[ his brow crinkles for juuust long enough to make him look conflicted before he lets go of the greeting. something scratches at the back of his mind but he's so focused on making a good impression and getting to the task at hand, that it's easy to dismiss for now. ]
Ooh! Cause of the--? [ he gestures up and down his chest. ] Nah, it'll be awhile before public grants catch up to this level of tech. I had to buy out a company and then steal-- er-- borrow, proprietary information to get this baby working. But I'm no Quick Draw McGraw. The neuromorphic interface does a lot of the targeting work for me.
[ shrug. ray's got ego out the wazoo but he's pretty good about where it stops these days. ]
[ public grants...? quick draw who now? neruo-whatsit?? doc stares at ray for a second, as if the other man just uttered something in one of the languages he's not familiar with. ]
...I shall have to take your word for it. Black Badge has some interestin' gear, but nothin' quite like [ he gestures to ray's attire ] all this.
Black Badge, huh? You don't talk backwards or anything, I hope...
[ he chuckles to himself for that not-so-deep twin peaks cut, but ray's attention is again divided. he's used to blank faces in response to his rambled jargon, but this is something different altogether.
something's fishy. ]
But-- uhh-- seems like you prefer the classics, huh? What are those, Colts? Or maybe you're more of a Cooper man?
[ backwards? another furrow of his brow, barely concealed by the brim of his hat. missing the reference entirely, doc explains: ] It's a division of the US Marshal of which I am unfortunately associated with.
[ or was that fortunately? he was certainly going to milk his unwanted badge for all it was worth when it came to waltzing around this place with his guns on him. like hell was he disarming himself.
the smoothness of which draws that pistol from its holster is almost unnatural, and he holds the gun in his hand like it's an extension of himself. ] Forty-fives. [ he holds it out for inspection, if only because he's confident he could snatch it back. fast hands, after all. ]
he reaches forward and as the weight of the weapon rests solely in his hand, his face quickly shifts from bemused to full on awestruck. ]
Oh my gosh...
[ he's more delicate than most will ever witness ray be when he passes his other hand over the metal, tracing the lines and matching them against his own memory. his own brow furrows in plain sight when he lifts his eyes up to stare at henry without shame.
[ who is this guy? the way he handles his weapon is akin to someone holding a piece of fragile glasswork. doc doesn't quite know what to make of his reaction, holding a hand to take the weapon back — and promptly turns to shoot point blank at the nearest target, hitting the bullseye dead on. ]
[ this guy is currently an overgrown child in a very loud candy shop if the spread of his grin and the way his eyebrows seem to be trying to escape into his hairline is any indication.
wordless yet again, ray reaches over to the pad and punches in a few buttons, sending moving targets at varying distances back and forth across the range. ]
[ doc takes one look at ray, then draws out the second gun with the same fluid motion as before. he does remain in place, walking at an almost too calm pace as he moves from left to right, forwards and then backwards. not once does he stop firing, not until all the targets have been hit with expert precision. ]
[ ray nods, still too fast and forever too eager. he's full near to burst, and subtlety's never been a skill he could master. he nearly gulps down the urge to run back to the mansion shouting his discovery which makes his fingers twitch at his sides. ]
That. Was. Amazing. I mean, I have to say it's the older westerns I grew up on but you're-- you--
[ his hands flit up into the air to express his excitement and so instead of shouting, it comes out in a stage whisper: ]
[ please don't. wynonna is going to light his ass on fire for this as it is. do not announce it to the masses. he's super hard to kill, but that does not mean she wouldn't find a way. hell hath no fury like a ticked off earp. ]
I am from 2017. [ casual as he slips his guns back into their holsters. but he leaves it at that, as curious as he was with the woman on the network who came dangerously close to figuring it out. he waits, like a tried and true gambler, leaving the floor open.
[ there's no poker face to be had here. (the crooks on the waverider clean him out every time and he's still grateful just for having been a part of it.) his eyes narrow and his mouth drops open-- if ray was wearing a pearl necklace he'd clutch it in offense. but he can feel the challenge that's just been levied at him. ]
Yeah? Well, I'm calling your bluff. See, I'm a time traveler. And you scream 1870 to me. [ an inexact date, ray has a habit of leaning too heavily on his own experiences sometimes. ]
[ he shakes his head. his tendency to hone in on a single focus has always been a major setback for ray. when things don't fit the space he's cut out for the shape he thinks they are, he tends to lose footing.
ray looks over the targets again and thinks back over the now barely two conversations they've had. if there's one thing he can be sure of, at least, it's that immortality and magic aren't always a fun combo. ]
Oh. My mistake. It's just with all the crafty evasive answers and bizarre set of skills you seemed comfortably out of place. It's not every day you meet a dentist who can shoot like-- oh-my-god-you're-Doc-Holliday.
What? But you're so obviously-- [ his hands flit about, losing words (bravo) to fit the situation. ] --Doc. Gunslinging and smooth and poker faced. So poker faced...
[ ray, no. stop trying to build your box around this man. he is not here to be a statue for you to ogle in awe. (though ogling is sort of still happening. sigh.) ]
[ pffft. raymond, p l e a s e. but it's fine. the ogling doesn't seem to bother doc in the slightest. in fact, his only response to the intense scrutiny of his person is to pull a cigarette out of his pocket and light it. what? eternal health. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
he takes in a drag, blows it back out, shrugs. ] I am a professional card sharp.
[ go on, lecture him. he will happily inform you of his inability to die once more. and yeah, maybe he shouldn't have been smoking back in the day when he actually had terminal tuberculosis, because that certainly... hadn't... helped matters... but there were many things the 1880s were unaware of. ]
Unfortunately, [ he says with tangible reluctance weighting down his voice. doc didn't ask to be black badge, but black badge didn't give a fuck about what he wanted. what any of them wanted. ] But that's more of a recent development. The deputyship that history records was a temporary affair in a time of need, something I immediately surrendered once it was no longer necessary to hold.
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Ooh! Cause of the--? [ he gestures up and down his chest. ] Nah, it'll be awhile before public grants catch up to this level of tech. I had to buy out a company and then steal-- er-- borrow, proprietary information to get this baby working. But I'm no Quick Draw McGraw. The neuromorphic interface does a lot of the targeting work for me.
[ shrug. ray's got ego out the wazoo but he's pretty good about where it stops these days. ]
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...I shall have to take your word for it. Black Badge has some interestin' gear, but nothin' quite like [ he gestures to ray's attire ] all this.
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[ he chuckles to himself for that not-so-deep twin peaks cut, but ray's attention is again divided. he's used to blank faces in response to his rambled jargon, but this is something different altogether.
something's fishy. ]
But-- uhh-- seems like you prefer the classics, huh? What are those, Colts? Or maybe you're more of a Cooper man?
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[ or was that fortunately? he was certainly going to milk his unwanted badge for all it was worth when it came to waltzing around this place with his guns on him. like hell was he disarming himself.
the smoothness of which draws that pistol from its holster is almost unnatural, and he holds the gun in his hand like it's an extension of himself. ] Forty-fives. [ he holds it out for inspection, if only because he's confident he could snatch it back. fast hands, after all. ]
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he reaches forward and as the weight of the weapon rests solely in his hand, his face quickly shifts from bemused to full on awestruck. ]
Oh my gosh...
[ he's more delicate than most will ever witness ray be when he passes his other hand over the metal, tracing the lines and matching them against his own memory. his own brow furrows in plain sight when he lifts his eyes up to stare at henry without shame.
he smirks, and holds it out, grip toward henry. ]
Well, now I reckon I should see it in action.
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wordless yet again, ray reaches over to the pad and punches in a few buttons, sending moving targets at varying distances back and forth across the range. ]
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Enough of a demonstration for you?
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That. Was. Amazing. I mean, I have to say it's the older westerns I grew up on but you're-- you--
[ his hands flit up into the air to express his excitement and so instead of shouting, it comes out in a stage whisper: ]
You said you're from 2017!
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I am from 2017. [ casual as he slips his guns back into their holsters. but he leaves it at that, as curious as he was with the woman on the network who came dangerously close to figuring it out. he waits, like a tried and true gambler, leaving the floor open.
your move, raymond. ]
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Yeah? Well, I'm calling your bluff. See, I'm a time traveler. And you scream 1870 to me. [ an inexact date, ray has a habit of leaning too heavily on his own experiences sometimes. ]
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1887, last I saw that side of history.
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What? No! I've got eternal longevity.
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You have what, now?
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Eternal longevity. Immortality?
[ for a guy covered in that much futuristic gear, you sure are slow on the uptake. ]
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[ he shakes his head. his tendency to hone in on a single focus has always been a major setback for ray. when things don't fit the space he's cut out for the shape he thinks they are, he tends to lose footing.
ray looks over the targets again and thinks back over the now barely two conversations they've had. if there's one thing he can be sure of, at least, it's that immortality and magic aren't always a fun combo. ]
Oh. My mistake. It's just with all the crafty evasive answers and bizarre set of skills you seemed comfortably out of place. It's not every day you meet a dentist who can shoot like-- oh-my-god-you're-Doc-Holliday.
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[ try not to look so smug, doc. it's not a good look on you. ]
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Are you kidding? You're a legend. [ hang on. ] But you already knew that, didn't you?
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[ how often did he have to correct the citizens of purgatory on their "knowledge" of wyatt earp? too often. ]
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[ ray, no. stop trying to build your box around this man. he is not here to be a statue for you to ogle in awe. (though ogling is sort of still happening. sigh.) ]
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he takes in a drag, blows it back out, shrugs. ] I am a professional card sharp.
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And an actual Marshall! Right? So, I mean, it seems like the books got it mostly right.
[ ever the idealist. also, ever arrogant: ]
You know, I was Sherriff in an Old West town for awhile.
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Unfortunately, [ he says with tangible reluctance weighting down his voice. doc didn't ask to be black badge, but black badge didn't give a fuck about what he wanted. what any of them wanted. ] But that's more of a recent development. The deputyship that history records was a temporary affair in a time of need, something I immediately surrendered once it was no longer necessary to hold.
[ doc eyes him. ] Were you, now?
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Ayup. [ ray. ] Cleared Salvation all outta riff raff. I couldn't stick around, either. [ ray pls. ] You know how it i--
[ aaand there's the coughing. doesn't seem likely to stop any time soon... ]
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