2011 06 12: This Is My Rifle

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Mission Name: This Is My Rifle
Date of Mission: June 12, 2011
Locale: Division - Training Area

Argyle gives some recruits a lesson in gun handling, which is also attended by seasoned gun handler Crewe. Jezebel stops in to watch, and later Lance makes an appearance. It's a mixed bag of nuts!

Argyle Crewe Jezebel Lance

There's a line of recruits standing in front of stainless steel tables, the guts of rifles in front of them. They're blindfolded and it's easy to tell the fresh meat from those close to graduating. The frosh fumble with the weapon components and drop things, while the more seasoned recruits move on muscle memory. Overseeing this excercise is Argyle, who paces the length of the table, examining the recruit's work.

Jezebel has suited up in a Division tank top and pair of Division issue shorts, along with the same kind of sneakers. She has a bruise on her right cheek that seems to say 'I'm here for training'. The agent seems a trifle confused when she walks in on the blindfolded recruits, then smiles with recognition. She seems to remember this exercise well. Jez watches Argyle for a moment before stepping back to observe the recruits with a scrutinizing eye.

Recruit. Frosh. Vet. Crewe. Some fumble and drop things, that's true - sucks if they forget the firing pin or the recoil spring, for instance - but none, not a one, looks like they're particularly enjoying this exercise. Well, one, but she hardly counts as a recruit…seeing as how she not only brought her own blindfold but her own rifle as well. And a smile. Not a little one either, but a big, Happy Birthday smile. Click, click, snap, click, and before you know it, her baby's in one piece again.

A third of the recruits finish their puzzles. The rest? Argyle barks, "Time!" and all activity ceases. They pull off their blindfolds. "Roger, Tina, Alissa. You're dead." Three recruits who barely got half their weapon assembled. "Chun, if you had fired this…" he picks up the weapon, "…it would have blown up in your face. This is not IKEA…" he holds up a pin, "…there are no extra pieces." Then he addresses the group at-large. "All right, kiddies. That's it for now. If you want extra practice, sign up on the schedule. For some of you, extra practice is not a suggestion. You know who you are."

When the lesson ends, Jezebel sides up to Argyle and nods her head toward Crewe. "Who's that? I haven't seen her before… at least I don't think so. That isn't exactly a recruit-issued rifle, is it?" Jez asks Argyle. She watches the recruits beg off, waving to them almost teasingly before going back to looking at the blonde — turning away hopefully just before the other woman looks and sees her.

With supermodel flare off comes the blindfold, and out shakes the blonde hair. "Gee teach, how'd I do?" Crewe asks of the instructor. She does just what any good student would do, setting the rifle down flat on the table and standing up from the seat, far enough away to not be a threat for inspections. This is a practiced routine for her, coming from chow, cell inspections, and the like.

"A big kid who's sitting at the kiddie table," murmurs Argyle to Jezebel. He clears his throat, then moves down the line towards Crewe. "Inspecting this would be like checking a chef's stock. Did you decide to sit in just to intimidate the newbies? You can't feel like you need the practice," he says wryly.

Jezebel stares at Crewe. particularly the blonde's eyes. Even though she did try to discreetly turn away, it would seem that she's just… unable to stop her staring. She finally clears her throat and looks to Crewe, listening to his words. "I was hoping that you would actually work with me soon. Even just pistols. I'd take rifle training too though, but I'm more of a close up and personal kinda gal… hence my love for the knives and not the rifles. I'm not as talented as your friend here."

Crewe gives a little huff, feigning looking hurt with the best of them. "And here I was, thinking I was doing you a favor! This is my rifle, this is my gun!" she singsongs with a false little highstep, arm-swinging march in place. Before you know it though, she's sliding back into the seat, getting her face right next to the gun, running her fingertips along the barrel. If you thought the eyes before were captivating, just look at them now, as Crewe stares back up at Argyle and Jezebel, smiling from ear-to-ear. "But really, this is my gun. Isn't she pretty?"

"I've seen prettier," Argyle retorts. He is a connoisseur of all things gun. The lab full of heavy machinery isn't just for show, after all. He glances to Jezebel. "Sure. Sometimes my schedule's a little tight with recruit tutoring, but thankfully this lot is doing better with the firing of the weapons than the assembling."

"Sure thing. I'm not picky about the time, so long as it doesn't interfere with coffee-serving and arson." Jez grins briefly at Argyle before looks over at Crewe and blinks at the woman, noting especially how she touches her gun. It looks like there's a comment on the tip of her tongue that she's biting back by the hair of her chin. The woman's crazy eyes and even crazier smile make Jezebel smile too — and edge closer to Argyle, while she checks the waistband of her shorts for a bladed weapon. ..And there isn't one, of course.

Argyle's comment seems to hit Crewe like, well, a bullet. She recoils from the rifle and looks hurt for real this time, gasping and holding a hand over her heart. When she moves to stand up from the seat once more, it's fluid and quick, and she's standing to attention in her jeans, tanktop, and sneakers. "It's okay. He didn't mean it. He just doesn't understand your quirks the way I do."

Argyle looks at Crewe like she just grew a second head. He blinks. "You off your meds or something?" He grabs up a cloth and wipes down the stainless steel table. There's other workers to do that, but sometimes he likes things done his way. "Don't think anyone understands your quirks, lady," he drawls. He shoots a sidelong look at Jezebel.

"I think it's a nice gun," Jezebel adds lamely, perhaps not wanting to get executed where she stands with it. She looks at Argyle with wide eyes and then back to the other woman, biting her lip. "Soooo, yes. About those lessons. What are you doing Wednesday, per se? I have the day off and I can be here a little early." She looks back over to Crewe and licks her lips contemplatively. "Quirks are good…"

"I'm not on any meds. And I resent the implication that I am!" Crewe spits back at Argyle, complete with finger-pointing action. There's a huff, a flip of the hair back over her shoulder, and a spin back towards her gun. "I'm just…I happen to like guns. Which is weird, because I started by using a knife, you know? But they're just so sleek and powerful and deadly. It's a weapon all about control," Crewe continues, and then squints her eyes and sets her jaw seriously. "…and I like to have control."

"I agree with you. That's why the crime that got me put on the map and pinged by Division was the small arsenal in my garage." Argyle shrugs and scratches the back of his neck then, "Well, not /small./" Throatclear. Then to Jezebel. "Recruit drills end at ten. I have some time between then and lunch."

Jezebel pauses as she regards Crewe. "Really? I wouldn't have guessed that you like to be in control." The woman says in a tongue-in-cheek manner, looking back to Argyle with a nod. "Alright, sounds good. I'll be here, as long as I can use one of the trainee guns. When I left, Division was smart enough not to give me my own." Jezebel's interest perks spectacularly when Crewe mentions knives, but dies down once more. The woman remains somewhere between inquisitive and ohmygodwhotheFUCK.

"I don't know if I should say why Division pinged me. It's bad enough that it was in the papers. But they said it was alright and then they let me learn to shoot and all was good. Purpose is good. Don't worry, knives are fun too," Crewe adds, tossing Jezebel a bone. "I just don't have much use for them, you know? If it gets to that point, I'm probably fucked anyway." First she shrugs, not really bothered by the idea it seems, then reaches under the table to get the rifle case and start taking things apart.

"All righty. Wednesday at 10. We'll do some shoot'em up." Argyle gives Crewe a sidelong look, then tosses the cloth into a bin. "For now, I have to get back to work on my latest baby. Ladies." He tips an invisible hat and heads for the door of his lab.

The ding of the elevator arriving on the floor echoes down the corridor followed by footsteps. Lance steps into the training area, the sound of his whistling announces his arrival before he does. He pauses in his steps and whistling as he notices others. He lowers the duffel bag from his shoulder to rest at his side, looking over those present in turn. Finally, he raises his free hand in a slight wave and speaks. "Hola. Hope I'm not interrupting anything." His accent is predominantly American with a slight French accent on a few words.

It's clear that Jezebel has no real idea what to say to Crewe, just reaching up to rub at the back of her neck with some vague sense of confusion and… waitasec, did Crewe just make Jez feel bad unintentionally? Perhaps ala mean girl in a high school movie? Uh oh. She coughs a little bit and licks her lips again as if she can't seem to wet them enough. "Okay, see you later, Pie Man. Thanks, by the way." She watches Crewe with some vast expression on her face.

Lance steps into the training area, the sound of his whistling announces his arrival before he does. He pauses in his steps and whistling as he notices others. He lowers the duffel bag from his shoulder to rest at his side, looking over those present in turn. Finally, he raises his free hand in a slight wave and speaks. "Hola. Hope I'm not interrupting anything." His accent is predominantly American with a slight French accent on a few words.

Old habits die hard, and so, is it a shock that when Lance arrives the rifle that was going back into the case is conveniently pointed at him with the stock resting on the table? It's just a moment of course, but yeah, it just happened. "He's interrupting bedtime, that's what he's doing! Coming down here and agitating and getting everyone all worked up. It's alright, it's okay. You get the day off still," Crewe says to the gun while nestling it into the foam of the case.

"What." Jezebel simply says at Crewe's words, looking over to Lance with some wariness. "Hello, Lance. I didn't know we were all going to bed, but apparently…" Jez murmurs, watching Crewe with mild fascination. It's the same kind of look one might wear while watching a NatGeo special about deadly predators. Awe, but fright mixed in. "You give your gun the day off?" She asks the other girl quietly.

Lance raises an eyebrow as Argyle departs, offering him a nod of his head in greeting and farewell. He looks back to Jezebel and moves towards her. "We are? Shit. Since when did we get a bed time?" He asks, an eyebrow raised slightly before he looks to the new girl as Jezebel asks her question. He looks her over for a moment before he waits for the girl's answer to the question.

"What? And you don't?" Crewe replies cheerily after nestling the rifle into the case and snapping the latches shut. "Everyone needs a day off. Even me. Saves ammunition, anyway." Sans gun, Crewe is almost normal. The crazy look in her eyes even fades a little!

Jezebel just shrugs her shoulders at Lance helplessly. She reaches up to run her fingers through her hair before taking in a deep breath and looking back to Crewe. "Yeah, well. You don't really get a day off here… You just kind of… I don't know." Jezebel considers it. "It's, uh… well, it's not elective. Some days you just don't have to kill people. So, what's your name?" You know, so Jez can avoid her later, or ask for intel about her.

Lance smirks at the talk of guns and days off. "Yeah, after you leave here, you have to find days off for yourself. Otherwise you're always undercover." He adds in his little bit before he looks to Jezebel, offering her a smile. As Jezebel asks the other girl her name, he once again looks to the other girl to wait for the introduction. Best to get their name before giving your own.

"Didn't they tell you? I'm nobody. I'm a specter. I'm a figment of you're imagination. I'm here to help people smarter than me deal with, ah, certain issues. But, if that's too much to remember, you can call me Crewe. Jessica Crewe. And don't go digging around on the damn internet about it. Lying's too much damn trouble," she grumbles, having presumably given a real name!

"Uhhh. Don't worry, ma'am. I only use my Internet connection for porn and illegal downloads." Jezebel says to the other woman, looking to Lance before she grins. The fresh bruise on her cheek seems to say that she's been through training recently. "Speaking of days off, I have to go and check into work. Don't know how I'm gonna explain this to anyone. Maybe I'll tell my co-workers that my boyfriend hits me." A sidelong glance is thrown to Lance before she waggles her fingers at them both. "Ciao, bellas."

Lance raises an eyebrow slightly at the response from the girl, glancing towards Jezebel, a smirk playing on his lips. "Amanda is going to love this one." He chuckles softly before he looks back to the other girl. "How long ago did they get you?" First thing he's doing when he gets home is go on Google. He moves to set his bag down against the closet wall. He glances to Jezebel as she raises an eyebrow at the mention of her boyfriend hitting her. "I don't know. That'd involve the police and I don't think Division would like that very much." He says before he offers a wave to her.

"About four years ago? I guess? Time kinda slows down and speeds up when you're locked up. But they send me out and back and out and back. I keep coming back for that cookie, you know? It's really not so bad. They keep saying the work agrees with me." Crewe cracks a grin now, and slides the case off the table…and nearly looks overwhelmed by the weight of it.

Jez makes a dismissive hand motion at Lance's worrying over the police as she heads for the door, looking last between Crewe and then back to Lance with a shrug. You're on your own, bub.

Lance nods his head. "Ahh.. Explains why I haven't seen you around before." He says as he glances towards the case, but says nothing about it. He just looks back up to her before he looks back towards Jezebel before he disappears, returning his attention back to the other girl.

"What are you looking at, bub? Haven't you ever seen a woman carring a sniper rifle before?" Before she moves off on her own for the night, she makes sure to take a step away, then turn back and jerk her head and shoulders toward Lance. "Boo!" she cries out, giving her head a shake to make the hair frizz up and move all over.

Lance raises an eyebrow at the girl. "Not one that almost falls over when she carries it." He says in response to her, a smirk on his lips. As she tries to either scare or intimidate him, he stands his ground. He's faced people a lot more scarier than her. "Right." He says before he moves towards the bag he sat down, picks it up and moves towards the shooting range.

Meeting adjourned! Back to the dorms Crewe walks, hefting the case back up in her arms. All along the way, she's humming a chipper tune, strolling along the hallways without a care in the world…for the moment.

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