She shot me, she shot me, bang bang she shot me [ open ]

[shootingshields]

who ; Peggy Carter and yooooou
what ; Target Practice! With a shiny future gun... thing!
where ; Garden Zone 04
when ; A day or two or three ago or something.
warning(s) ; I know jackshit about guns? Oops.

Comments

[checkthetapes]

"Wouldn't you prefer a moving target?"

He's just suddenly there, leaning against that mess of logs she's been shooting at. Arms folded, his posture both cocky and completely relaxed. And yes, Peggy, he's examining his nails.

[shootingshields]

She doesn't even bat an eyelash at his sudden appearance, taking one brief glance at him before continuing in adjusting the weight of the gun in her hands. "Of course it's ideal, makes for better practice. But I'm quite used to not having that option."

[checkthetapes]

He doesn't pay any overt attention to the firearm, but he's wary of it regardless. Naturally, he can outrun bullets, but he still doesn't quite trust her.

But he trusts Rogers. And Rogers, damn the man, does. Pietro can hardly rely on his judgment in one respect and disdain it in another. He doesn't have to respect her - nor does he imagine he can - but he might as well make an effort to play nice.

So. Give him a moment, Peggy, he's going to just. Go make a quick trip to the junkyard. It doesn't take him very long, and after a few moments he's back with a box which he dumps unceremoniously beside her. It's full of things. Shootable things. And maybe one or two genuine clay pigeons.

"It wouldn't do for you to get rusty," he says, actually managing neutrality instead of snarky condescension for once. "I'll throw them. If you think you can keep up."

[shootingshields]

She's... surprised. Definitely surprised, but it doesn't show on her face. She peers down into the box, lifting a foot to move some of the items inside around to get a better look.

"I don't get rusty," Peggy says before kicking the box back over towards him. "The weapon isn't designed for long range. Keep them at the appropriate distance, or the practice is pointless."

[checkthetapes]

He doesn't answer her verbally. Instead, he picks out one of the targets (it's a small earthenware jug, already cracked) and throws it.

So maybe it's a little out of her range.

But only a little.

[shootingshields]

She fires at it, despite recognizing it's slightly out of range as soon as he throws it. All guns had range, of course, but it wasn't like she always let that stop her from trying.

A bullet manages to chip at the jug anyway, and it falls to the ground flatly. But she frowns at Pietro. She could have shattered it completely had it been thrown right.

[checkthetapes]

And he's just going to pretend not to notice that frown, shall he? Honestly, he's impressed that she was still able to hit it at all. She's no Hawkeye -- not his Hawkeye, anyways, the one who hit the Hulk with an adamantium dart while hanging out of a helicopter in the rain -- but she's...

Not awful, either.

His next throw (a plate) is a little more precise.

[shootingshields]

Peggy fires again. It doesn't hit dead center--she's still new to this particular gun, after all--but this time the plate does shatter on impact.

She's grinning on the inside, but not on the outside. The MA37 was quite different from other similar guns she was used to, but she suspected it wouldn't take long to adjust to it.

[checkthetapes]

"Congratulations, Agent Carter," he says dryly. "We've established that you at least know which end to hold."

Assault rifles aren't precision weapons, nor are they meant to be used as such. He's heard S.H.I.E.L.D agents in the field refer to them as armaments of the 'spray and pray' variety. But accuracy can be the difference between life and death, for people who move and think at a rate somewhat less than the RPM of a conventional AR.

He fishes another target out of the box - a teapot this time - and after a moment tosses that into the fray as well.

[shootingshields]

Her mouth draws into a tight line. But she knows now most of the time Pietro is just an antagonistic jerk. It's not an excuse, oh no, and she won't let it be one, but at least she's got better control of her temper. "I think we've established more than that, actually," she replies sharply. "Not that I need you to tell me."

And she fires at the teapot, again not hitting the center but still managing to break it.

[checkthetapes]

"Would you rather I compliment your aim?"

He watches the little ceramic shards of teapot fall. It may as well be in slow motion. Then again, nearly everything is.

"The truth is, you could be doing better and we both know it."

To demonstrate, he'll just chuck one of those pigeons into the air, shall he? It's practically a discus, so he tosses it with a bit of an underhand, so that it'll spin properly for a shot.

[shootingshields]

"I'm quite aware this is not my best. Unfortunately I'm not used to this particular weapon just yet."

Yet being the keyword, but now she's determined to hit his next throw as close to center as possible. So when it flies through the air, she takes extra careful aim, holds the gun in a slightly different position, and fires.

And finally, her shot hits the middle, and the pigeon shatters. Much better.

[checkthetapes]

He dusts his hands off and stands, arms folded, completely at ease.

"That's more like it."

[shootingshields]

There's a slight eyebrow quirk, because that sounded a lot like legitimate praise, not masked in some biting comment. But she's pleased with her shot nonetheless, so he gets a nod. "I expect it will continue now."

[checkthetapes]

"Then you've no further need of me." He takes a moment to clear the debris from the field - no sense leaving it scattered about when he's more than fast enough to see to it.

"Good-day, Agent Carter."

It's only the slightest bit dry this time around.

[shootingshields]

She watches him clear the ground as best she can, and then nods at him again.

"You have my gratitude for the assistance." Because professionalism equals politeness when called for.