[Hard not to, when Frank's ego is as thin as bone china.
He inspects the rifle with the deft ease of someone all-too familiar with high-powered weaponry and Evelyn won't argue if he refuses to take a shot with the thing. Judging by his commentary about its age he might assume the thing would go up in his face as soon as the bolt drew back.]
I will, thank you.
[She says crisply, retrieving the magasine and snapping it into place swiftly, efficiently. The last time she used this rifle in combat she hadn't the luxury of taking extensive loading time. Stepping behind the table she settles the butt against her shoulder, sighting down the length of the barrel to the targets at the other end of the field, leaning her cheek against the stock to maintain the line.
Upon exhale Evelyn executes the ten-round version of a mad minute: the bolt is palmed smoothly with every casing that springs from the gun immediately following firing, quick enough that the crack of each shot runs into the next one until the magasine is empty. The deafening silence that follows when she lowers the rifle to look down the range again portends successful patterning and a trained aim.
no subject
He inspects the rifle with the deft ease of someone all-too familiar with high-powered weaponry and Evelyn won't argue if he refuses to take a shot with the thing. Judging by his commentary about its age he might assume the thing would go up in his face as soon as the bolt drew back.]
I will, thank you.
[She says crisply, retrieving the magasine and snapping it into place swiftly, efficiently. The last time she used this rifle in combat she hadn't the luxury of taking extensive loading time. Stepping behind the table she settles the butt against her shoulder, sighting down the length of the barrel to the targets at the other end of the field, leaning her cheek against the stock to maintain the line.
Upon exhale Evelyn executes the ten-round version of a mad minute: the bolt is palmed smoothly with every casing that springs from the gun immediately following firing, quick enough that the crack of each shot runs into the next one until the magasine is empty. The deafening silence that follows when she lowers the rifle to look down the range again portends successful patterning and a trained aim.
Evelyn says nothing. She just looks at him.]