Fire at Will (Felicien, Fritz)

Old threads from the BLU base.

Fire at Will (Felicien, Fritz)

Postby Bartholomäus Fritz Brotmarkel » Sun Sep 11, 2011 1:37 pm

The first thing Felicien had done when he arrived at Swamp Rat was to mark his territory; his things were now resting upon his bunk, and they had better not be disturbed when he returned. He had gone to the Bulletin Board just to make sure he wasn't missing anything. Perhaps he'd go see the Medic, more so for the doctor's sake than his own. The last time he checked, he was still clean. Physicals could be so intrusive.

He stepped into the shooting range and picked up a revolver from the racks. Felicien strode up to the counter and touched the BLU button labeled 'START'. Targets shot up and began weaving along on rails. He scoffed and lifted a single arm, firing three precise rounds. All of them struck the bull's eye, perfect headshots. He'd make a Sniper envious.

"'ere I am, new to zhis place, and no one bothered to welcome me. Instead, I am forced to entertain myself, shooting at pathetic targets. Zhe nerve!"


Fritz was still wandering around, still trying to get used to this place. It wasn't a very big base, it was just... Slightly confusing, for someone like him. He had lived a good portion of the latter half of his life in house arrest you know, new surroundings would take some getting used to. "Okay, so I zhink I have zhe first floor down.." he told himself. "Let's start on zhe second floor!" He eagerly ran upstairs, wanting to explore and find out what was up there. He walked by the storage. "Boring." The Library. "Hm.. Must check zhat out later. Gott knows if I go in zhere now I von't evah come out again.." More storage. "Eh." Some guest rooms, an infirmary of some sort, and training equipment. There was one more room at the end of the hall, and it happened to be the only one lighted as well. "Shooting range... Eh, I might have to pay zhis place a visit.." Fritz was a horrible shot. He pushed open the door and stepped inside.

Felicien lifted his arm and swung it back, pointing the barrel of his gun at the intruder. Slowly, he turned his head, noting the color of the man's attire. He huffed and tossed his head back, golden locks bouncing against his shoulders. The man had made far too much noise to be an enemy Spy. With a charming - bordering on seductive - smile, Felicien lowered the revolver and snapped open the chamber. He tossed in a few more bullets and snapped it closed.

"Bonjour, docteur. 'ow are you?" he asked, veiling his true intentions behind a neutral tone. Yet he couldn't quite hide the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Were you 'oping to 'one your skills? Zhis range won't do much for you. --unless I've hit zhe wrong setting." Felicien gave a slight pout.


Fritz froze, a deer caught in the headlights. A gun in his face? That was the last thing he had expected. Well, maybe not the last thing, it WAS a shooting range after all.

After the gun had been retracted from his face, he blinked a bit, and stared at this new fellow. He was very handsome, Fritz was a sucker for long blonde bouncy hair. The man smiled at him, and he could feel a blush creeping onto his face. This stranger's smile was so... Nnngh. He gave a smile back. Aside from the gun pointing, he seemed nice so far. "I'm doing vell, zhank you. Und ja, I vas hoping. I have horrible aim you see..." He looked down and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "Most likely because I cannot see in zhis" he pointed to his right pupil, "eye." He looked back up, showing the man what was wrong with him.


Oh dear. Freezing up at the sight of a gun? What a greenhorn. Felicien hid his disappointment behind a veneer of amusement, however. He wasn't the sort to whine unless it had to do with his own vanity. A few battles would snap everyone's backbones into place.

Felicien frowned out of pity. A lack of depth perception could be deadly out on the field. "Oh. Well, zhere are ways to compensate for your--condition." His frown curved into a sympathetic smile. And although it marked Fritz with an impairment, Felicien actually thought it rather... pretty. Funny how one could find beauty in a lack of sight. "Would you like me to 'elp you?"


"Yes, bitte!" he failed to hide the eagerness in his voice. "I vould appreciate it very much!" Realizing he had not yet introduced himself, he stuck his hand out for a hand shake. "I'm Bartholomäus, by zhe vay. It's somevhat of a mouthful, I realize, so you may address me by my middle name Fritz if you vish. It's vhat most people do, anyvay. Vhat do you go by?"

Felicien smiled in as much earnesty as a Spy could muster. It felt good to be the center of admiration. Or adoration. He knew men who taught better than he did, but he wasn't the sort to give false praise or hope. If something was wrong, Felicien was quick to correct it. "Very well zhen."

Before moving to grab another firearm, Felicien accepted the hand that was offered. "Zhat eez quite zhe mouthful. Fritz eet eez." He chuckled and debated whether or not to be honest. "Felicien eez my name, but you may call me Fefe."


"Fefe? Hehe..." he couldn't help but giggle. Fefe was an adorable nickname. "Vell, velcome to zhe base Fefe! I'm quite new here as vell, so ve're kind of in zhe same boat. Alzough I've somevhat gotten used to vhere everyzhing is, so I could at least give you a tour after zhis if you vish." He watched as his new friend reached for the other weapons on the table.

Felicien held a smug grin as his little petname was echoed. He knew that he was adorable, and he used that to his full advantage. It was just one of the many things you did as a Spy. Nothing was without a purpose. "Merci bien."

He rubbed his chin. A little tour while tagging along with his teammate might foster a healthy working relationship. He'd have plenty of time to check things out on his own terms later. "I'd like zhat. Yes. Why don't you show me around after I show you 'ow to 'andle a gun, hein? Eet sounds like a fair trade."


He could feel himself getting red in the face again. Fefe could've meant for that to be a completely innocent comment, but with the way he said it.. Fritz couldn't help but thinking inappropriately. It wasn't the first time someone had used that line with him, and memories flooded back suddenly. Oh, nonono, he just met this guy! Even if he was extremely friendly, he should watch himself. "I zhink.. I zhink zhat vould be nice." He smiled at him again. "So.. How should ve start zhis?"

Oh how he loved making men blush. Women were too easy. Felicien tossed Fritzle a suggestive wink before saddling up behind the Medic and urging him towards the targets. His hands roved from Fritzle's shoulders, down the man's arms, and stopped at the wrists; Felicien lifted the Medic's arms and reached behind himself, grabbing a gun to practice with. "Like zhis. 'old eet steady."

He really didn't have to be so close - he was practically flush against Fritzle - in order to guide the man's hands, but Felicien never settled for second best.


Fritz's face was now completely beet red. Curse this darned blushing of his! He hadn't had time to react to the wink before the man had already slinked up behind him. He didn't completely freeze up this time, but he wasn't relaxed yet either. The other had started moving his hands about him, leaving a trail of goosepimples in their wake. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to figure things out. He felt the hands close on his wrists, unintentionally bringing the man closer to his backside. Fefe was practically hugging him at this point. It was beginning to feel real warm to Fritz, and he opened his eyes when he felt the cool metal of the gun Fefe had led his hands to. His friend spoke, and Fritz could feel the tingle of his breath against the back of his neck. He was only three inches taller than the man, but it was enough to put his mouth directly at neck level. Surely, he MUST be doing this on purpose, right? No, no, Fritz was probably just overreacting. He hadn't had human contact like this in a long while, and his body just wasn't used to it anymore. He decided to deal with it, and gave Fefe the benefit of the doubt for now.

If and when Felicien did something, it was filled with intention. In this case, his intentions ranged from boredom to a genuine desire to help his team's Medic. In his mind, it only made sense that he have a little fun with his lessons. A teacher's greatest desire may have been to see his student succeed-- but no one ever said anything about the road traveled between Points A and B. Felicien would make this a fun and eventful journey for Fritzle. That was just the way he rolled.

"All right. Now look at zhe target," he practically crooned in the other man's ear. "Ease your finger against zhe trigger." His own digit rested upon the Medic's.


There were more goosepimples forming as the man spoke next to his ear, and he could feel the hairs standing up on the back of his neck. His ears, ooh, those were his weak points. His hands had been shaking ever so slightly as well, but now they seemed to relax as the other put his own around them. Alright, no time for fooling around now Fritz, time to focus. Even though focusing was somewhat difficult due to the hot distraction behind him. He sighed, and stared down to the target, not too extremely far away from them (yet not close enough, Fritz secretly thought). He started easing his finger on the trigger, just like Fefe said. He was doing anything Fefe was asking of him at this point actually, not giving a second thought as to what it was.

It was like melding clay. Felicien smirked to himself, trying to remember the last time he whipped up a fellow so quickly. "Steady..." And then the shot rang out. He saw the gunpowder markers where the bullet struck. "Second ring from zhe bull's eye. Hmm, methinks you were nervous and twitched." A soft lilting laugh spilled from his lips. He was definitely enjoying this.

"Come on. I don't bite. Not unless you're into zhat." He waggled his brows, helping Fritzle curl his finger around the trigger again.
Bartholomäus Fritz Brotmarkel
 

Re: Fire at Will (Felicien, Fritz) <Archive>

Postby Bartholomäus Fritz Brotmarkel » Sun Sep 11, 2011 1:41 pm

The medic flinched the tiniest bit as the bullet fled from it's barrel. It's not like he hadn't ever shot a gun before, it's just that he hadn't done it often. But.. Second ring from the bullseye? He'd never been that close! He was a bit surprised at Fefe's laugh, but he kept quiet.

At the other comment, Fritz bit his lower lip. Oh yes yes yes, this somewhat innocent man was more into biting than the Spy would ever know. He wouldn't dare tell him this now though, he was too embarrassed. As innocent as he was, Fritz held some pretty deep dark secrets.


Felicien was so used to getting silence in return for his remarks. He brushed it off like rain and marched on. "Eyes on zhe target, not on me," he teased. Oddly enough, this exercise reminded him of an old friend of his, one who used to be rather helpless and hardly knew his way around. Nostalgia hit him like a wave. He let out a sigh and murmured, "I'm letting you fire eet zhis time."

Realizing he hadn't spoken for a bit, he responded with a short "R-right." Fritz would genuinely try to focus on the target this time. He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, hoping to relax a bit. It sort of helped. He stared at the target once more and pulled the trigger, hoping he'd get the bullseye this time.

Felicien hummed as the bullet flew through the sky. It grazed the bull's eye. Not bad. Not bad at all. "Well, zhat would register as a hit. Eetz good enough for me. Zhe problem with your needle gun eez... well, zhe needles fly in an arc. We'll 'ave to practice different techniques with zhat." He backed away, looking for a suitable practice gun.

With the man now comfortably away from him, Fritz could finally relax a bit (and possibly stop the next round of touchy touchyness from happening). He turned around, confused at the mentioning of the weapon. "N-needle.. Gun? Eh, I'm sorry Fefe, but I don't know vhat.. Er, veapons, I have, I barely know ANYZHING about BLU or vhat I am supposed to be doing here." He gave an apologetic shrug and sighed. "You see, I vas.. Put under house arrest for... A certain somezhing zhat I created. I used to vork for zhe government, und zhat is all I can tell you about it. I zhink BLU looked at my record or somezhing and my previous employers sort of just... Gave me to zhem, like I was some toy or somezhing.. Didn't ask me about it at all..." He looked down at the laces of his boots and sighed again. It wasn't exactly the greatest feeling in the world to be treated as an object anybody could just sell away. "Anyvay, I was placed here as a 'Medic', as you say. I know nozhing about zhe ozher.. Classes, I zhink it vas, und I might need a bit of help learning zhings.."

Felicien made a face. "You know nothing? Mon dieu..." He looked around for a moment, arms at lifted as if he'd find something beneath them. Nope, nothing. The Spy let out a sigh and reached into his vest for a notepad. He retrieved a pen as well and began jotting something down furiously.

"Your needle gun will be your primary method of defense-- You're rambling." Felicien gave Fritz a sympathetic look. "You don't need to explain anything to me. I'm 'ere to 'elp." He continued with his notes, making a quick reference sheet for Fritz. It was filled to the brim with terminology and the sort of equipment the man might come across, as well as which classes he'd want to avoid on the battlefield.

The Spy handed it to the Medic and murmured, "We should find your gear and practice with zhat instead."


"S-sorry, I tend to ramble a lot.." he quickly took the note from the other's hand, looking it over for a few moments before stuffing it in his coat pocket. He'd have to study it later. "Zhank you so much by zhe vay, Fefe, for helping me." He gave an apologetic smile. Knowing he would sometimes ramble, and that he wasn't very knowledgeable of where he currently was, Fritz was very greatful he had met someone like Fefe, so willing to help him out.

Felicien held up a hand in answer to the apology, dismissing it without a thought. He didn't want to hear that word, not when his comrade had done nothing wrong. (Whether or not he had done something right was another story.) "I can see zhat. We'll address eet in due time."

He hummed at the show of gratitude, however. It was so nice being appreciated. "De rien. We work as a team if we are to succeed." That notion should have came as second nature.


And that's where it ended. Still unfinished.
Bartholomäus Fritz Brotmarkel
 


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