( closed )

[shrinkage]

Who: Ray Palmer & various
Where: Various
When: Late September-November
Rating: PG13
Summary: Planned threads; follow-ups; request fulfillments; flood prevention; PM for a starter!
The Story:

--dig them up; let's finish what we've started. dig them up, so nothing's left untouched.

Comments

[wildwest]

If he thinks Doc's in his element now, he should make an effort to get stuck with him the next time there's a zombie hoard to fight off or anything of that sort which allows his particular skill set to flourish. Doc holds back a good portion of the time, and it's only in situations like Alexandria's zombie apocalypse does he allow himself to really let loose.

"You forget," he says casually between shots. They hit the target dead on with almost inhuman precision, one after the other. "I am not most people. The social atmosphere of your time is not what it was in mine."

Which is a nice way of saying that he finds a lot to be desired in the company millennials have to offer. He doesn't get them and they don't get him. And he's fine with that.

[shrinkage]

"Forget? If anything, I've never even considered it like that," Ray replies. And while Ray often brushes off moments when the offense is intended, Doc's words tend to stay with him to be thought over and earnestly considered. Yes, including potentially offensive ones.

His first shot nears the center of a target, but the next two land toward the edges. Serviceable, and with marked progress since they'd started, but still far from an expert. His training with Oliver had been largely focused on close combat, for the times a target got in close past his automatic long-range capabilities. Were this boxing, he'd maybe not look so inept.

"In the business world, you need to learn to look like you enjoy all of the boring things the old guard enjoys. Golf, and coffee, and sports teams. I guess it's easy to lose yourself in all that..."

[wildwest]

Ray's shot is improving. It's not what it could be, but it's getting there, and it's good that he's learning to rely on the sharpness of his own eyes and not whatever gizmo was ensuring that his shots would make their targets in that suit of his. It sucks that it's gone now, but one doesn't necessarily need a fancy suit of armor to protect or defend themselves.

"Business world?" A scoff. "I'm a doctor, not a lawyer. My interests are far more refined, and I would much rather lose myself in a good vintage than any of those so-called great American pastimes."

He also does not get the appeal of sports, especially the modern definition of.

[shrinkage]

"Hey, I'm with you. I prefer water and video games," he laughs. And while it's a joke to him, it's not actually something he finds to be funny. He'd had to mold himself to survive. Sometimes he wonders what he could be had he chosen not to.

A few more average shots, and Ray's switching targets again.

"At the time, it felt like what I was supposed to do. It took time travel and befriending a criminal to start appreciating my status as an outsider..."