(no subject)

[hasthehighground]

A guy dressed in black jeans and a worn purple t-shirt opens the door, and takes a half-step in. One foot over the doorway, and one foot in his world, he glances sideways to use his peripheral vision. Yep, apartment still there.

Huh.

"... Sure, why not," he says. He steps in, hesitating for the briefest of moments before letting go of the edge of the door so it closes behind him. Clint rubs his hand over the short hair on the back of his neck, and steps to the side of the door so he's not blocking it. He realizes he stands out, but a door showed up in his apartment. He's pretty sure it'd be weirder to not be confused.

[OOC: Clint has been re-set with a new mun! Hellooo. He is post-Thor, pre-Tesseract babysitting duty. Please don't spoil him re: the future.

Catch me in crackchat at the moment as TLvop, or check out the contact post in his journal -- I'm prone to slow, but slowtimes are A+ awesome :)]

Comments

[3nanashi]

Trowa's amusement is barely visible, but it's there.

"No."

Sports has never, ever been the context for guns in Trowa's experience. Even just on the range.

"It's not archaic," he clarifies, in case that's the source of the confusion. "That's just the namesake. Neo-Glocks are pretty standard for military and law enforcement use."

There's nothing cutting-edge about it either. Trowa saved the fancy weaponry and upgrades for his mobile suit, back when he had one. The Neo-Glock Aerie series are standard military handguns: stolid, plain, and utterly reliable. This particular model is a little slimmer and easier to conceal than most, that's all.

Not that there is any military anymore. What organizations there were have been disbanded, or folded into worldwide law enforcement, or remade into various reconstruction and relief organizations. But.

[hasthehighground]

"That's actually kind of a relief," Clint says, expression slowly shifting into a grin. "Though if everyone was... living in spaceships," he waves a hand, with a look on his face somewhere between the future? and that's pretty unlikely. "I could see shifting to lower velocity weapons."

Backstops are important.

When your backstops are what is protecting you from space, they're even more important. And frangibles can't account for everything (or maybe that's just a distance shooter's elitism talking).

"My main handgun is pretty standard for LEOs," is what he says, instead.

[3nanashi]

"The parameters for colony arms are really strict," Trowa agrees. "And ship-board."

There are political reasons for that too, but politics can sometimes be sidestepped. Laws of physics, in an enclosed habitation surrounded by hard vacuum, really really can't.

"I spend more time on Earth, though."

Not a lot more time, and he's licensed to carry this same gun (with very specific ammo) in space too. A Preventers ID has its uses.

"What's yours?"

His answer will also answer the question: is it a type Trowa knows at all?

[hasthehighground]

"A HKP30. Heckler & Koch." he says. "It's a .40 cal -- 10 mm Short. Secondary's a Sig Sauer P226, same ammo."

One of those has got to be familiar, right? The idea of both Heckler & Koch and Sig Sauer being unknown but Glock being familiar is almost painful.

(Also, Natasha would be unbearably smug.)

[3nanashi]

Sure! They're both Neo-Glock model names.

Mr. Nils Betrand was catholic in his nostalgic naming, if not his historical accuracy.

Trowa's face doesn't betray any familiarity or lack thereof, but he nods at the end. The ammo makes sense to him; he didn't really expect to have a clear mental picture of Clint's 21st century guns, but he'll remember their models anyway.