OPEN OPENESS FOR THE MASSES

[snickerdoodled]

OPEN POST!
For general shenanigans! Throw your people at my people, using existing verses, or hey, let's get crazy and come up with new ones. It'll be a party. 1, 2, 3, GO.

Comments

[fathersfootsteps]

Of course. [readies it without missing a beat, then tucks it into his belt for an impromptu holster] Prefer arrows, though.

[ofafeather]

Too bad I'm not your dad. [She gives him a wry smile.]

Just don't shoot me, okay, kiddo?

[fathersfootsteps]

[he just gives her a LOOK]

[ofafeather]

[And she gives him one right back.]

You have to do everything I tell you to. If I tell you to take cover, you do it.

[fathersfootsteps]

I know the procedure, mom. You're lead; you call the shots. Can we go now?

[ofafeather]

[....ugh she's not a fan she's not a fan.]

Fine. Let's go.

[fathersfootsteps]

Good. [AND OFF HE GOES]

[ofafeather]

[Ugh, Francis. Bobbi is too worried about watching you right now that sure, she's going to go ahead and get into a fight with the person who's setting the bombs, but she can't focus.

But she's still kicking major ass.]

[fathersfootsteps]

[and Francis is right there as backup, trying to get a good shot in to incapacitate the dude because Bobbi, your moves are sort of shit]

[ofafeather]

[BECAUSE SHE'S WORRIED ABOUT HER KID DYING OKAY. Keeping an eye on Francis and trying to fight are not easy things to do at the same time. Normally she's a million times better than this, ask anyone.

Anyway.

Bobbi is losing, for obvious reasons, and she knows it. She already knows she's going to need either a doctor of someone with a really, really amazing first aid kit.]

Francis, baby. Shoot. I don't care if you get me, too, just shoot.

[fathersfootsteps]

But mom-! [because now that he's in this situation? yeah. he is afraid, and he understands why there aren't on field assignments yet.

but Bobbi's getting thrashed and so he takes a deep breath, pulls out the gun, and aims like he's been taught. lets the world go still around him, listens to the sounds and feels the vibrations in the air. Francis takes a deep, slow breath, eyes locked on the target, and shoots, praying Bobbi doesn't move wrong and get in the way]

[ofafeather]

[You asked for it, Francis.

She keeps the shot open for him, mostly. As open as she can, anyway. The bullet grazes her side, but it does the job, injuring the target enough that she can knock him out.

And then she'll just smile a little at Francis.]

Nice job, kiddo.

[fathersfootsteps]

[he's clambouring over to her, worried about her side and completely ignoring the bomber]

No it wasn't. Dad wouldn't have hit you.

[ofafeather]

He's done it before.

[Mostly in training, though. But still.]

I'll be fine, see? Just a graze.

[fathersfootsteps]

[UNCONVINCED but he knows she's stubborn, so instead he focuses on the bomber guy, kicking him in the shoulder]

Recognise him?

[ofafeather]

Nope. Cops should be here soon, though. He's not going anywhere.

[And Bobbi's going to find a place to sit until then.]

So. Learn anything from this?

[Because, even though she's injured because she made bad choices, she'll still try to parent.]

[fathersfootsteps]

[he follows her obediently] Yeah. Guns suck.

[ofafeather]

Nah, they don't. You just gotta learn how to use them, that's all.

[fathersfootsteps]

You can't feel them like you can a bow. I don't like it.

[ofafeather]

They serve a different purpose. But your dad thinks the same thing.

[fathersfootsteps]

I kind of agree with him.

[ofafeather]

I think it's because he's been shoving a bow in your hand since before you could walk.

[fathersfootsteps]

Does that bug you?

[ofafeather]

Why would it bug me?

[fathersfootsteps]

I dunno. Maybe you would have liked it if I was into guns like you, instead.