I discovered the Perspective Transform tool and all the issues went away. :P This is a result of Om and myself sharing brainwaves without knowing we were.
HAHHAHA YES CHARLIES ALL LISTENING TO ZEN, or at least one of Matt's playlists, and Matt's all "And then the HT said this and I had to say this and OF COURSE it went to hell, and now Frank won't stfu about the whole thing.."
At this rate you're going to end up seeing the entire epilogue before I get it posted. Anyway.
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They meet at the firing range in the FBI basement a few times a month. Matt's a faster shot, but Charlie's better with a firing pattern, makes his bullets count for more. They're not competing, but the crackle of it is there, the potential that reality could come down to this, that they might depend on knowing how to take a life, either for themselves or for each other.
Charlie tries not to imagine the possibilities of missing a shot. He listens to music that Matt gives him, whistles along as a distraction and a comfort and a way to center himself. And frequently he comes out of a daze of aim-exhale-fire-reload-aim-exhale-fire to find that Matt has been trying to talk, to tell him something interesting or important or neither. Matt talks to fill silences, spaces that make him hope for-Charlie doesn't know what Matt hopes. He doesn't know how to ask.
Once I actually read your fic (we'll have internet on Tuesday, allegedly), I will be able to READ IT and I hope to have lots of manips inspired by it. If I have appropriate bases, anyway.
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Perspective tool is MADE OF WIN. JUST LIKE THIS MANIP OMFG YOU HAVE THEM MASTURBATING DOING TARGET PRACTICE TOGETHER.
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In my head, Matt is ranting and raving about something and doesn't even know Charlie put on the iPod. LOL.
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They meet at the firing range in the FBI basement a few times a month. Matt's a faster shot, but Charlie's better with a firing pattern, makes his bullets count for more. They're not competing, but the crackle of it is there, the potential that reality could come down to this, that they might depend on knowing how to take a life, either for themselves or for each other.
Charlie tries not to imagine the possibilities of missing a shot. He listens to music that Matt gives him, whistles along as a distraction and a comfort and a way to center himself. And frequently he comes out of a daze of aim-exhale-fire-reload-aim-exhale-fire to find that Matt has been trying to talk, to tell him something interesting or important or neither. Matt talks to fill silences, spaces that make him hope for-Charlie doesn't know what Matt hopes. He doesn't know how to ask.
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I maybe sort of needed it for an illustration for the epilogue.
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Once I actually read your fic (we'll have internet on Tuesday, allegedly), I will be able to READ IT and I hope to have lots of manips inspired by it. If I have appropriate bases, anyway.
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