Guys will be guys.
PING
In a sudden flurry of green-colored paint, an aluminum pop can flew from its perch a top large boulder in the Nevada desert and landed some twenty feet from where it originally sat. Not one second after it had landed, the remains of a small plastic pellet dropped in the sand beside it.
Piffpiff
The rifle went off again, this time neither of the two remaining pop cans had moved.
The man behind the paintball gun lowered his rifle and frowned. A bead of sweat had formed at his temple, and with a swipe of his back hand, wicked it away into the stifling air. Hazel eyes turned to look skyward as a hand cupped itself over his youthful brow. The sun was starting to set, but it was still hot as Hell. He squinted and rolled his shoulders, turning back to resume his gaze on his aluminum targets several yards away.
A moments pause, and Elian cranked his neck to one side until he heard a pop, then over to the other. His sweaty palm ran itself down the back of his dark jeans to ready itself for a steady shot.
"Alright you Sprite-can bastard, your tin ass is mine."
Trigger finger clenched and the air powered gun fired not one, but four consecutive pellets. One managed to make contact, and a green painted can went flying in a small splatter of color. Its counterpart simply just fell over.
"Nice," was his only remark.
Elian stood with a smile and admired his handy work. His aim had gotten significantly better over the past couple of months. He hadn't ridden out here on his dirt bike every now and then explicitly to learn how to shoot things with a gun (lethal or not), but every so often he'd gotten bored and blowing stuff up was just a natural human male instinct. Guys will be guys.
At least, that's what Elian had learned in his several decades -pretending- to be one.
Then again, he'd gotten more practice at being a late twenty-something than well, everyone. He'd even got more time in than most of the undead sort, except Elian had a pulse and that was something he was grateful for. He was also grateful for being able to go outside during the day. Some folks who lived forever weren't that lucky.
But unlike vampires, who existed to feed off the living and perpetuate their kind, to breed chaos, darkness and evil, Elian served no purpose. As far as he was concerned, he couldn't create another like himself - he didn't have the power. He didn't have any power, for that matter. He was just.... there.
Elian knew, however, that having been given any sort of power would have been a luxury, a bonus. Sure, he was stronger and more resilient than a human male, but when he was ostracized to his corporeal body, the higher powers saw to it that he wouldn't have much of an advantage. Sometimes, when Elian felt down, he referred to his existence as Purgatory.
Searchlight seemed an appropriate place as ever to spend it.
Eyes craned toward the horizon as a plume of dust rose to the sky, the sign of a distant passing car. Elian stood and drank from his water bottle as he watched the cloud move slowly west before it disappeared. Thoughtfully, the left corner of his mouth perked upwards, and he turned back to look at the remaining toppled soda can. He raised his paintball rifle with his right hand.
Piffpiff---plink!
The can flew off its perch, and launched into the air spinning before hitting the ground. A wide, accomplished grin spread over Elian's face. "That's what I'm talkin' about," he announced to no one.
The rifle was slung over his broad shoulder, and Elian turned on his heels. He'd had enough can-busting for one day, and the heat was starting to get to him. It was probably time to go home and have a cold shower. It was getting dark, anyway.
His dirt bike was perched up against a large boulder a few yards away, Elian's boots crunched on gravel as he made his way toward it. Bungee cords snapped his belongings into place, his rifle strapped over his shoulder. Elian flung his leg over the seat of his bike and kicked it roaring to life.
With a crank of his right wrist, he steered himself back towards home. His back tire kicked up dust as his engine echoed its whine into the vast desert outside of Searchlight.
In a sudden flurry of green-colored paint, an aluminum pop can flew from its perch a top large boulder in the Nevada desert and landed some twenty feet from where it originally sat. Not one second after it had landed, the remains of a small plastic pellet dropped in the sand beside it.
Piffpiff
The rifle went off again, this time neither of the two remaining pop cans had moved.
The man behind the paintball gun lowered his rifle and frowned. A bead of sweat had formed at his temple, and with a swipe of his back hand, wicked it away into the stifling air. Hazel eyes turned to look skyward as a hand cupped itself over his youthful brow. The sun was starting to set, but it was still hot as Hell. He squinted and rolled his shoulders, turning back to resume his gaze on his aluminum targets several yards away.
A moments pause, and Elian cranked his neck to one side until he heard a pop, then over to the other. His sweaty palm ran itself down the back of his dark jeans to ready itself for a steady shot.
"Alright you Sprite-can bastard, your tin ass is mine."
Trigger finger clenched and the air powered gun fired not one, but four consecutive pellets. One managed to make contact, and a green painted can went flying in a small splatter of color. Its counterpart simply just fell over.
"Nice," was his only remark.
Elian stood with a smile and admired his handy work. His aim had gotten significantly better over the past couple of months. He hadn't ridden out here on his dirt bike every now and then explicitly to learn how to shoot things with a gun (lethal or not), but every so often he'd gotten bored and blowing stuff up was just a natural human male instinct. Guys will be guys.
At least, that's what Elian had learned in his several decades -pretending- to be one.
Then again, he'd gotten more practice at being a late twenty-something than well, everyone. He'd even got more time in than most of the undead sort, except Elian had a pulse and that was something he was grateful for. He was also grateful for being able to go outside during the day. Some folks who lived forever weren't that lucky.
But unlike vampires, who existed to feed off the living and perpetuate their kind, to breed chaos, darkness and evil, Elian served no purpose. As far as he was concerned, he couldn't create another like himself - he didn't have the power. He didn't have any power, for that matter. He was just.... there.
Elian knew, however, that having been given any sort of power would have been a luxury, a bonus. Sure, he was stronger and more resilient than a human male, but when he was ostracized to his corporeal body, the higher powers saw to it that he wouldn't have much of an advantage. Sometimes, when Elian felt down, he referred to his existence as Purgatory.
Searchlight seemed an appropriate place as ever to spend it.
Eyes craned toward the horizon as a plume of dust rose to the sky, the sign of a distant passing car. Elian stood and drank from his water bottle as he watched the cloud move slowly west before it disappeared. Thoughtfully, the left corner of his mouth perked upwards, and he turned back to look at the remaining toppled soda can. He raised his paintball rifle with his right hand.
Piffpiff---plink!
The can flew off its perch, and launched into the air spinning before hitting the ground. A wide, accomplished grin spread over Elian's face. "That's what I'm talkin' about," he announced to no one.
The rifle was slung over his broad shoulder, and Elian turned on his heels. He'd had enough can-busting for one day, and the heat was starting to get to him. It was probably time to go home and have a cold shower. It was getting dark, anyway.
His dirt bike was perched up against a large boulder a few yards away, Elian's boots crunched on gravel as he made his way toward it. Bungee cords snapped his belongings into place, his rifle strapped over his shoulder. Elian flung his leg over the seat of his bike and kicked it roaring to life.
With a crank of his right wrist, he steered himself back towards home. His back tire kicked up dust as his engine echoed its whine into the vast desert outside of Searchlight.