Bone and Guns
Edward Bone liked guns. There was really no doubt about that. He loved the way they felt, he loved the sound they made, he loved the results that followed.
Ed stood, his dark blue eyes focused on the target in front of him. WIth a quick check for ammunition, he leveled the gun to the target, his muscular arms being able to deal with the recoil easily. "'Ere we go..." His accent lilted off of his tongue, and he closed his eyes, the comfortable feel of the CZ-75. An alarm rung out, and he began, pulling off a few shots his eyes focused on the target.
His muscles tensed as each shot ripped through his body, her eyes never leaving the target, never worrying about anything else but the feel of the metal in his hands, growing warm with the constant fire. He didn't really use protection of eye or ear any more, he noticed that once you got accustomed to a gun, you shouldn't really worry much about it malfunctioning.
Six shots later, he lowered the gun, looking at his handiwork. Six neat holes were in various places in the target. One between the eyes, one dead center to the jugular, another aimed at his heart, two neat holes where his lungs would be, and a final hole dead center of the face, where the nose would be.
He gave a small shrug, leaning against one stall of the range, fingering the gun. It was good...but he was a couple centimeters off of the last one. He se about cleaning one of his favorite guns. 'Bonny Lass' inscribed in the handle, and dismantled it, cleaning it and rubbing it down with oil, and drying it properly, before storing it back in its holster. He looked at the large rack he'd made, each slot handcrafted for each particular weapon. Each permit was delicately tucked away in the small case adjacent to the gun where a full magazine for each gun was stored. Ed hated being sloppy when it came to guns....
That really didn't transfer over much into his personality, unfortunately. Wearing only a dark grey wife beater and dark denim jeans, both stained with oil from both maintaining the car that got him, Marisela, and Katie from place to place, but also with the fine oil that he used to clean his guns with.
Whistling he closed the door to the range, soundproofed, and started into the kitchen, where Marisela was speaking quickly through the phone. Ed winced waiting for the subsequent destruction of said phone.
"Yes yes, I got you, we'll be in Barrow within the week...yes, yes..." Marisela grew impatient. Every moment she lingered on the phone would be another second she'd be liable to destroying it. "Yes, we'll bring all of our tools sir. Thanks..."
As Katie popped in, the phone fizzed and the line went dead. Marisela only growled, throwing the phone on the ground. "Este tecnologia es estupida..." She muttered, nudging the faulty device with her foot.
"I just fixed that, 'Sela." Ed said goodheartedly, picking up the phone. "Where in all the green of the Earth is Barrow anyways?"
"Barrow's in Alaska." Katie said easily. Wearing bright pink and purple, the smaller teen tried her best to stand out from the crowd when not working. Her shoulder length mousy brown hair was currently up in pig tails, pink ribbon falling all over the place.
"Yes...Barrow is in Alaska...they've got some haunts that we can get paid a nice sum for."
"Ey?" Ed said ,looking at the dossier that she'd constructed. "When do we leave?"
"I got us first class tickets for tomorrow morning, bright and early at 6." The blond Scotsman groaned.
"Selaaa..."
"Shush. You'd better be glad I'm GETTING on a plane...we remember what happened the last time I tried it..."
Katie shivered. They'd nearly gotten the plane crashed before Mari could work out a levitating spell. Fortunately, this time, she'd made a salve to temporarily suppress her powers, and, therefore, the Mojo Effect, as Ed had coined it.
Ed nodded grudgingly, and went to pick which guns he was taking with him. He absolutely HATED flying...
Ed hurried down stairs, and started fingering guns....
At least he had his Bonny Lass...and grumbling, he began to pack.
Ed stood, his dark blue eyes focused on the target in front of him. WIth a quick check for ammunition, he leveled the gun to the target, his muscular arms being able to deal with the recoil easily. "'Ere we go..." His accent lilted off of his tongue, and he closed his eyes, the comfortable feel of the CZ-75. An alarm rung out, and he began, pulling off a few shots his eyes focused on the target.
His muscles tensed as each shot ripped through his body, her eyes never leaving the target, never worrying about anything else but the feel of the metal in his hands, growing warm with the constant fire. He didn't really use protection of eye or ear any more, he noticed that once you got accustomed to a gun, you shouldn't really worry much about it malfunctioning.
Six shots later, he lowered the gun, looking at his handiwork. Six neat holes were in various places in the target. One between the eyes, one dead center to the jugular, another aimed at his heart, two neat holes where his lungs would be, and a final hole dead center of the face, where the nose would be.
He gave a small shrug, leaning against one stall of the range, fingering the gun. It was good...but he was a couple centimeters off of the last one. He se about cleaning one of his favorite guns. 'Bonny Lass' inscribed in the handle, and dismantled it, cleaning it and rubbing it down with oil, and drying it properly, before storing it back in its holster. He looked at the large rack he'd made, each slot handcrafted for each particular weapon. Each permit was delicately tucked away in the small case adjacent to the gun where a full magazine for each gun was stored. Ed hated being sloppy when it came to guns....
That really didn't transfer over much into his personality, unfortunately. Wearing only a dark grey wife beater and dark denim jeans, both stained with oil from both maintaining the car that got him, Marisela, and Katie from place to place, but also with the fine oil that he used to clean his guns with.
Whistling he closed the door to the range, soundproofed, and started into the kitchen, where Marisela was speaking quickly through the phone. Ed winced waiting for the subsequent destruction of said phone.
"Yes yes, I got you, we'll be in Barrow within the week...yes, yes..." Marisela grew impatient. Every moment she lingered on the phone would be another second she'd be liable to destroying it. "Yes, we'll bring all of our tools sir. Thanks..."
As Katie popped in, the phone fizzed and the line went dead. Marisela only growled, throwing the phone on the ground. "Este tecnologia es estupida..." She muttered, nudging the faulty device with her foot.
"I just fixed that, 'Sela." Ed said goodheartedly, picking up the phone. "Where in all the green of the Earth is Barrow anyways?"
"Barrow's in Alaska." Katie said easily. Wearing bright pink and purple, the smaller teen tried her best to stand out from the crowd when not working. Her shoulder length mousy brown hair was currently up in pig tails, pink ribbon falling all over the place.
"Yes...Barrow is in Alaska...they've got some haunts that we can get paid a nice sum for."
"Ey?" Ed said ,looking at the dossier that she'd constructed. "When do we leave?"
"I got us first class tickets for tomorrow morning, bright and early at 6." The blond Scotsman groaned.
"Selaaa..."
"Shush. You'd better be glad I'm GETTING on a plane...we remember what happened the last time I tried it..."
Katie shivered. They'd nearly gotten the plane crashed before Mari could work out a levitating spell. Fortunately, this time, she'd made a salve to temporarily suppress her powers, and, therefore, the Mojo Effect, as Ed had coined it.
Ed nodded grudgingly, and went to pick which guns he was taking with him. He absolutely HATED flying...
Ed hurried down stairs, and started fingering guns....
At least he had his Bonny Lass...and grumbling, he began to pack.