Too Personal For Strangers


magnes_icon.gif ryans_icon.gif

Scene Title Too Personal For Strangers
Synopsis Ryans meets Magnes and the former Company agent learns more about the kid then a stranger should have to.
Date January 21, 2010

An indoor shooting range

With the cold of the winter in full swing, there isn't a whole lot of people going to the outdoor ranges. The older gentlemen that is in the process of shrugging off his thick brown duster, is not an exception to this. It is far too cold for his joints and the thought of being out in the crisp cold makes his left knee ache just a touch more. No amount of working out will repair the years of damage caused from years or hunting the worse of the evolved, not to mention those times he jumped out of a helicopter with his swim fins into ocean waters.

Catching his coat on the hook to hang there, Ryans adds his scarf, leaving him in a dark navy blue shirt with yellow trimming the neck, arms and hemline. A gold logo on left breast is proof that it is a standard issue blue and gold that the SEAL instructors wore. He pats cold hands over the back pockets of the wore pair of jeans he's wearing, frowning a bit. Pulling out a cellphone which buzzes he glances at the screen and looks a bit annoy. "Kids and their texts." His voice rumbles softly, even though he murmurs "She will just have to wait." The cellphone is tucked into his front pocket this time, before he moves to the variety of weapons on his bench.

Mostly, hand guns and a few old rifles with their wooden stocks looking more like something you'd see in an old war movie. The man seems to be an enthusiast at least. Glancing round, he starts loading a small revolver.

When Magnes arrives, he's carrying a hard black sniper rifle case, wearing a black denim jacket with a black t-shirt under it and a large white Venom symbol wrapping around the entire thing. He takes a seat on the bench, opening the case so he can start carefully putting the rifle together. He seems a bit young, at least for someone in the city, to be messing around with a rifle.

Anyone who watched TV at all two months ago would have seen his face plastered on the news, especially after the Glenn Beck radio thing. He looks up at the older man briefly, but goes back to meticulously putting his rifle together for now.

You can take the agent out of the Company, but not take the Company out of the agent. Blue eyes narrow some, making the crows feet at the corners of his eyes stand out more, as he squints over at Magnes. The young man seems familiar, the former agents steel trap mind latching onto that fact, and as he snaps the cylinder back into the gun and gives it a twirl it starts trying to figure out where. A pair of noise dampening headsets are picks up and pulled into place. Another curious glance goes to the young kid, he hasn't seen the sniper rifle just yet though.

A small shake of his head, Ryans turns towards the target, as both hands come up one is wrapped around the butt of the weapon, the other helps steady it for a moment. When he's ready to fire, the extra hand drops away and after a moments hesitation, the old navy man empties all six rounds into the target .
Once Magnes' rifle is pieced together, he watches the older man shoot. "That's really good. You're in the Navy?" he asks, taking note of the man's shirt. His voice is pretty distinct, and if one listened to Glenn Beck, that'd be familiar too. "After the last month, I'll be happy if I never see a boat again."

"Was.." Comes the deep voiced response from Ryans as his head turns a little to look at the kid. "Been… lord…" He turns thoughtful as he has to mentally count the years. A thumb pushes a button and the target rolls towards him, the grouping is good, but not great, but the target would be dead if it was real. "… more years then I want to count really." He plucks the target off and sets it aside for another. "So.. what is such a young kid as yourself doing with a sniper rifle?" He doesn't even look at Magnes as he asks it."

Those clear blue eyes turn towards him, they a sharp and calculating as they study him. "Not planning to go up on a clock tower and start shooting everyone?" A small tug at the corner of his mouth, is a hint towards it being a joke…. sort of. The new target is sent out, "But it is unusual to see a kid with something like that. Your what? Nineteen? You look about as old as my girls."

"I'm twenty-one. I just resigned from the NYPD to go to college, and I guess you could say my life is complicated. But, seeing as how I'm a man today and all, I figured I'd come out and shoot something. And I practice with my rifle 'cause you never know when you'll need one." Magnes says this in a deadly serious tone, like someone who's been in a war, then hunches slightly as he gets into position, looking through the scope, and fires one round through the nose of the target, and another through the top of the head. He has pretty poor grouping himself, but at least he can hit the general area he's aiming for.

"I'm better with a handgun, and an AK-47 or M-16, but with those you don't so much as aim as you're making sure you don't accidentally shoot someone else, or lose control and accidentally shoot yourself." He had to use those on the mission. "But I don't plan on going to a clock tower and shooting people, hurt myself lifting too many choppers to lose it and go out on a killing spree now."

Thin brows lift on Ryan's head, creasing his forehead. "Twenty one? Is that right?" He sounds almost like he doesn't believe it. And only a man today? And he has a sniper rifle? Those question run through the former agents head, but thankfully don't pass his lips. "Well, okay." he can't help but question the hiring practices of the New York Police department.

The revolver is set down and an old SKS is lifted from the bench, the wooden stock well polished and dark from years in soldier's hands. The old WWII weapon is checked over lovingly, obviously a favorite of the older gentleman. Then something the kid catches his attention. Getting a bit slow on the draw there Ryans. "Lifting too many choppers? Your that gravity manipulator I keep hearing about?" There is a flat quality to his tone when he asks that.

"Something like that. I'm trying to stay out of the news, get my life back on track. I'm sure something is gonna draw me back, there's always something, but I just can't be a cop, they're too caught up with PR and procedure and I feel like they lost sight of what's important." Magnes fires at a rough angle near the middle of the target's chest, then moves up a bit, tying to hit the shoulder, but the bullet only skims. "I fly and lift things, I leave everything else up to speculation." Suggesting that he's not one to confirm or deny what his ability is. "Right now I'm just deciding what to go to college for, and what my job should be while I do that."

"Of course they are caught up in PR." Ryans sounds a touch amused, "They have enough trouble getting people to see them as being the good guys. It's not like the fire department. Everyone loves them they save people." Setting a magazine into the bottom of the rifle and pushing it till it clicks, Ryans continues in that voice of his that seems to carry over the sound of others shooting even though he himself isn't exactly shouting. "Police help people, but they also have to protect the law as well, so people tend to see them as evil. It is one of the most thankless jobs really." Much like they use to the Company… or at least those that knew about it. "So can't blame them really."

"And college is a good choice." Ryans allows hefting the weapon. "My oldest is in college. I'm sure you would find something useful there. Computers for one, is a good field I hear." The rifle is set against his shoulder as he sets his stance. Then he silent as he fires the weapon, focus needed to hit the target.

"In a few years, I'm sure technopaths will put computer majors out of a job." Magnes' brows crease, trying to focus on one particular shot, and manages to get one right between the eyes. "Just two months ago I thought I had it all figured out. Great girlfriend, was trying to join FRONTLINE, thought I was on my way to being Superman. Now I'm screwing one of my best friends, I miss the previously mentioned girlfriend, which by the way is complicated, and I have absolutely no idea what I wanna do in life."

He sits up, starting to reload as he changes clips. "Life isn't bad or anything, I'm actually starting to feel pretty good now, I just feel kind of aimless too. Being a hero was everything to me, now it's nothing."

The butt of the rifle set against his hip while it's cradled in one hand, Ryans other arms rests on the partition between him as he asks. "Are you always this free with personal information when talking to strangers?" The old man looks like he's trying to figure Magnes out as he studies him. "You sound like one of those people on Jerry Springer or something." His head tilts to the side just a fraction of an inch.

"Being a hero is not something you aspire too.. it's something that happens. You'll figure it out either way. Though I recommend you don't be so flashy with what you are and can do." Ryans sets the rifle is set down gently on the bench. "It draws the wrong kind of attention. Acting like a normal person isn't all that bad. Look at me. I'm well on my way to being sixty and I have survived a normal life. Been through war.. dealt with dangerous people and here I stand."

One side of his thin mouth pulls up into a smile, "I don't have super strength, or healing, or gravity manipulation. I've done just fine." He gives a single shake of his finger at the kid, before turning back to his weapons looking like he is trying to decide what to fire next. "Sometimes keeping your head down will allow you to live longer."

"Why not, y'know? In all the time it takes to open up to people, we could be dead tomorrow." Magnes walks back over to the bench, removing his ammo clip to study it for a moment as he takes a seat. "Besides, easier to say things to a stranger, they don't know you well enough to judge. And, my life is more daytime soap than Jerry Springer, trust me. Actually, I don't think my life is realistic enough for a daytime soap. And, I don't think I wanna be a hero at all, unless I absolutely have to. Like the NYPD, it's a completely thankless job, and it's mostly filled with loss." He sounds vaguely bitter for his age, at least on this particular topic, leaning back on both hands with the rifle in his lap. "I don't very much feel like shooting anymore, maybe I should skate."

"You are too young to have to worry about being a hero anyhow." Ryans explains pick up that revolver again, flicking out the tumbler so he can work to load it again. "And you shouldn't be too free with personal information, because you never know what sort of person your talking too." He gives the young man a matter of fact look. "And people may not know you enough, but they will judge. Trust me." Magnes gets a smile, "And first impressions are everything with some."

The skating comment gets another odd look, his blue eyes dropping to the sniper rifle and back up again. The idea of that kid with that sniper rifle… and he skates. It just is rather unsettling for Ryans, but he stays silent. "Well, either way kid. Watch yourself.. it's a crazy world out there." Then he goes silent as he concentrated on shooting again.

He's always careful not to name names or slip secrets these days, so Magnes just sort of shrugs. Apparently when you've almost been exploded by a nuke, some things just seem… insignificant. "Guess I've been itching to spill my guts to someone too. But, I'm gonna get out of here, so I'll see you next time." He starts taking his rifle apart again, after having not really used it much today, then slides each part back into its space before closing and locking the case. After that, he stands up, and heads for the exit.

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