Sarah Connor is cursed to be ever vigilant (ever_vigilant) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2012-06-11 17:59:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !complete, clint barton (hawkeye), neena thurman (domino) |
I was more thinking, you know...
Who: Neena Thurman/Domino, Clint Barton/Hawkeye
What: As promised, Clint stops by Dom's shop. Also, she's sooo hungover.
When: Backdated to Saturday afternoon, after that Pete/Dom waking up log
Where: Lucky Shot Guns
Ratings/Warnings: PG-13 ish, language and weaponry/implied violence?
Status: Complete!
The shop opened at 12 on Saturdays, which was great, because Dom had spent most of the morning drunkenly sleeping in her bed. There had been some awkward hungover conversations with her drinking partner when they'd finally both risen from the dead long enough to acknowledge eachother, which hadn't really made anything better where she was concerned.
She was grateful for the fact that the shop existed, mainly for the reason to have an escape. But now that she was here, with a gigantic tankard of coffee, she wanted to be just about anywhere else.
Gun shops and hangovers. What was she thinking.
Clint finished up his inventory of things for the range, checking it out against the classes and demos he was scheduling for the following week, then jotted those down on a halfassed spreadsheet type document he kept print outs of, even though the forms were a little difficult to understand for anybody else. Then he gathered up the paperwork he needed to actually pick thngs up and so he didn't look like some kind of freaky serial killer, including his documentation to carry concealed, and headed off the the gun shop where he could stock up.
Dom polished down all the counters and readied the gun range, then checked the time. It had only been a half hour. Seriously? It felt like it'd already been 3 hours. Today was going to be the longest fucking day. Ever.
She headed back out to the front of her shop, found her big old coffee, and took out a bottle of aspirin. There was probably some kind of warning label on it about how many you were supposed to take in a certain amount of hours, but Dom never cared about that stuff. She took a few more and put sunglasses on. The sun was spewing into her shop via the large front windows, even though she'd drawn all the blinds. She wanted to turn it off, but sadly, the sun didn't have an off switch.
She was pondering sleeping on her counter when a guy came into her shop, holding a whole lot of paperwork. She waved, "Welcome to Lucky Shot. Don't mind the monotone, I'm trying not to make the headache worse."
"Been THERE." Clint kept his voice pitched low as he came up to the counter with his list in tow. "Clint Barton. We talked on the net thing briefly and I'm up for some restocking." He didn't remember the last time he'd actually done the whole drinking/hangover bit, but that was a good thing at least as far as the second part of it was concerned. "So I brought along my permits and copies of everything relevant. Nice place, by the way." he added, looking kind of like a kid in a candy store.
"I don't usually end up there, but a friend's in town," Dom admitted with a sheepish grin. She took another long sip of coffee and spread the paperwork out across her counter a bit so she could look at it properly. She nodded a few times as she looked it all over, especially in response to his comment about how nice her shop was.
"I take a lot of care to arrange things and make sure it's neat and easy to find what you're looking for. Well, mainly it's just set up the way I'd want it if I was in her buying. This all looks in order, nice bit of documentation you've got here." She sounded grumpier than she felt. It really was nice to get compliments about her shop and its setup.
^in here buying
"Why thanks." Clint smirked at that and patted his document stack fondly. It wasn't often that he got a lot of call to show it off, so when he did, well, the specializations had been sort of like his baby. He didn't admit it to anybody because it made him sound violently unhinged, but he kind of missed the days when he was behind a scope just shooting things for real. But again, not something you really shared. "Well hey, that works as well as anything else for a setup. "
If he did share it, he'd find in Domino a kindred spirit. She greatly enjoyed sniper rifles and their various uses, though to not blow her cover she'd probably come up with some other stories as to why they were so fun. He hadn't brought it up, though, so she moved on to why it was he was there.
"What sort of lovely weaponry can we hook you up with today? Something in that stack looked like a list, but customers hate it when I presume." She managed a grin.
"Well I'm here for ammo mostly." Clint admitted, grinning back. "I've got some boyscouts swinging by the range this week for a demo and practice so I'll need lots of it for them to practice killing my decoys. And, your ad said something about other weapons? I'm not ready to commit but crossbows are looking pretty appealing lately."
"We can definitely accomdate any of your ammo needs. Plenty of arrows in stock in the back." Dom picked up her coffee cup and made her way out from behind the counter, where mostly it was just pistols on display. Behind her were the rifles, and it was easy to mistake her shop for only a shop that sells guns.
"Crossbows are awesome. We have a pretty wide selection, as those things go. I'm sure we can find something that tempts you and is in your price range for later. Come on in the other room with me," She said, as she motioned to a doorway that lead into another part of the shop. Then she started heading in that direction without waiting to see if he followed, "Heh. That sounded like a proposition. Sorry about that."
Clint snickered as he followed along behind. "I dunno. " He said, eyes glinting as he followed. "Could be a shot gun proposition. Which, you know, not all that much fun, really."
"Hah, no, those really aren't." She sounded like she spoke from experience, but didn't really elaborate, "I was more thinking, you know. 'Come with me in my van, little girl', except in a gun shop, by a very hungover shop owner."
This area of the shop was lined up with dozens of cases of arrows on display, shuriken and various other kinds of throwing knives, with an entire 3 cases dedicated to other kinds of knives. The bows were all lined up along another counter, and an island in the middle had crossbows on display. She headed behind a display with arrows, and unlocked it, "You buy them by the box, but I like to have the arrows out so that you can see the different kinds, test their weight. We take custom orders for feather colors, too."
"Do you have candy or is it like an ice cream man molester tru...Oh, you have something even BETTER." Clint's eyes gleamed as he got a look at all the toys. Uh weapons. Arrows probably weren't toys to most people. "Oh that's really cool." he said at the colors bit. "I've been trying to teach myself fletching mostly but good for pinches to have the kind that someone who knows more than attending a couple archer's academy weekend workshops'll get you."
It really was like the candy and pervy ice cream truck store, for adults. If you crossed that with a toy store, too. Dom thought it was even better than a brookstone as far as 'adult toy store' categories went.
"You get a lot of people who compete, or schools who have an archery program, that kind of thing where custom arrow feathers is really going to be important. That's pretty neat, though, about the fletching. I had no idea there were workshops for that in the area. It doesn't take long for them to get shipped in, either, but you'll want to select an arrow type first."
She pulled out one of her favorites, "This one here glides through the air really nicely. But it's light, and not great for when you've got to worry about high winds. It's my favorite for target shooting with controlled conditions."
"Oh yeah, defnitely." Clint nodded at the colors bit. "The idiot I'm coaching to a comeback buys most of his stuff. I haven't been able to convince him of the wonders of making a huge mess with feathers yet." He confided, eyedarting. "Actually, I've only been trying since I found out you can get special services awards that way. Contributions to the field of historical archery. God knows I'm never taking on an archery student again. I'm starting to learn that almost everybody seriously into it is secretly an asshole. Self included."
"It's okay if you're secretly an asshole," Dom quipped, while setting the arrow down on the counter so he could pick it up himself, "All the best competition shooters are. I won't even tell, the secret is safe with me."
She snerked a bit at the mention of never taking on an archery student again, "All students are trying. I don't think I could teach anyone like that, I have a hard enough time teaching people basic gun maintenance. It takes more patience than I care to have to get further than that."
"See, my gun classes are normal." Clint paused a second. "...Okay that sounded slightly worrying. But I mean..." He eyedarted a little. "There's something still slightly more stable about them. No matter the age." Unless the problem was that he was stuck cleaning up someone else's mess as far as Roy was concerned. But still. He picked up the arrowhead, testing it, and getting a feel for where that might land. "Mantenance classes are kind of funny for me." he admitted. "Not easy but...you just start out by making a dummy with one of those jello brains, then you blow them out first thing. Great visuals there. Stick with you."
"Ballistics gel? That's not a bad idea, actually." Dom leaned on her counter a bit, and pulled up her sunglasses so she could see the man a little better. Sizing him up along with the things he kept saying, she had the idea he was more than he appeared to be.
Not that that was any of her business, really.
"I wasn't aware that one kind of shooter had more attitude problems than another. It sounds like you've got some stories."
"Oh like you wouldn't believe." Clint shook his head, almost fondly. "Guns, well, the appeal is a bit more everyman. People bring more of a Let's Play Army aesthetic into it. Which I can deal with. Who didn't secretly at one point or another want to go all badass with a gun? The archers...I'm pretty sure it's because every Robin Hood ever was a sarcastic dick."
At that, Dom couldn't help but laugh. It hurt like so many things getting stabbed directly into her brain, but she laughed all the same, "He really was. I enjoy archery, though. Aiming with a bow comes from a different place inside you. Or I always thought."
She shrugged, but agreed with him on the whole 'lets play army' thing, "Yeah, the thing about guns makes sense. And a lot more people consider owning and operating a gun to be a survival thing. If you're only shooting bows, it's kind of more about showing off what level of badass you are."
"Definitely." Clint grinned. "And I PREFER the archery so that probably says a lot." He sounded almost proud of the fact he apparently went around like that. "And yeah, I agree with you there. There's different things you've got to have in place. Well, obviously but...I'm startiing to see how you can't fake it with a bow the way you might be able to do it with a gun."
Dom nodded, "Completely different ballistics. Harder ones, and harder to aim, too. Or that's my take on it."
She respected people who preferred the bow over the gun, truth be told, mainly for that very fact. The only thing higher on her list were the kinds of people who could do crazy flips and things through the air and still hit things with accuracy. She wasn't about to reveal what level of skill she was at, personally. Generally she just liked sounding as knowlegeable as was appropriate to do the job at hand.
"We've got some heavier ones if you like a good thunk when they hit, but I wouldn't reccomend them for student use. Then there's your standard practice ones. I've got a few that are graded for hunting, since you've got the permit."
"Could be useful." Clint didn't add the part where he was going to keep them around for the sole purpose of sending Oliver Queen a photo as a sort of 'never go into my kitchen again' warning. Probably. Or well, they struck him as necessary for other purposes too, but he couldn't tell what they were. "Thunks are satisfying too." Probably nothing he could use in a competition these days if he checked the handbook but...
Dom didn't want to know and knew better than to ask. That was like an unwritten rule in the world of selling weaponry and firearms. It kept things easy if the police ever ended up coming by later, since she could truthfully say she'd never heard of any attention to do anything aside from training and hunting with the ammunition she sold.
Well, and he seemed like a pretty stable guy with a stable job that it made sense to have a range of arrows for. She wasn't really all that worried. "We have a range in the back if you want to test out how they feel."
And well, it'd be HUNTING of a sort. That technically wouldn't be a lie. So there was that. And yeah, Clint was pretty stable. Not exactly sane most days, but society was willing to pretend otherwise. "That? Sounds great." For some reason, he found himself wondering about places in the range that he could try striking down from above on. Wait. What?
"Well you're going to love this, because I'm about to say 'come along in the van' again." Dom snerked, and put the arrows back into the case to lock them away, "But let's head back to the range. All the arrows are back there for you to test, and you can have your pick of bows, too. It's a great place to test out some crossbows while we're at it."
"Sounds excellent." Clint grinned and turned to follow her. "Let's see what kind of candy you've got waiting."
And with that, Domino lead him off to the candy van shooting range!