Cling and Clatter

[Khaki]

The smelting iron made a hissing spitting noise as he shoved it in water, the bubbles roiling angrily because of the sudden heat invading its home. A man stood, holding one end with a heavily gloved hand and wearing a full welder's mask to keep himself safe. He wore a pair of jumpers, with a tank top beneath it An armband on his wrist was the closest thing to the metal and, it had a red and black star. His hair was long, tied back at the moment in a ponytail. It would have been in the way otherwise. And god forbid he lose any of it. He put up the mask, sweat trickling down his face as he swore heavily in French and stuck the metal back in the oven, where a fire was roaring.

Even though it as the middle of summer he was still working. His slim hand came up to rub at his forehead and he sighed faintly, his tongue sticking out in frustration. "Mon dieu." He huffed slightly, pulling his protective screen down and tugging another long piece of metal from the fire. Placing it on his anvil, he raised a huge sledgehammer, slamming it on the metal and squishing it in five solid twak twak twaks. His project would be done soon, and then those White bitches would be off his ass right?

[Pepper]

<sub>Watching through the doorway, a Red agent smiled approvingly, listening to the clang of metal from the anvil. She fingered the Glock handgun that lay concealed beneath her crimson blazer, comforted by its weight before rapping on the doorframe with her knuckles. Her target was occupied with his work... it should be a quick task, and she could go back to enjoying the cuisine of this beautiful land. The clean white shirt she wore was splashed with red shadows from the forge. Such a beautiful thing, metalworking. It was almost too bad to have to eliminate the man who stood within.


"¿Me excusa, está usted abierto para el negocio?" she asked, before realizing she'd spoken her native Spanish. "I'm sorry, I meant to ask, are you open, monsieur?" Unsure exactly how to ask for what she was 'looking for', she simply stepped inside.</sub>

[Khaki]

The man raised his protective welding mask again, and glared at her. "Do I look open?" He huffed, his French accent trilling happily through all his words, annoying the pis out of him. His sledgehammer stilled weighed heavy in his hand, hovering above the perfectly straight iron bar that was now starting too cool, which only served to piss him off worse than before. "Is there somethin' I can help you with?" He managed, still a bit tersely. This was a bad time to interrupt him. Right in the middle of a big project and everything.

[Pepper]

_{Ooh, cranky cranky. He didn't seem too happy that she'd interrupted him. Must be a big project... or a deadline. Dead being the operative word there. "Eh, nothing much... just looking for a new... candelabra." The woman looked around the shop, seemingly considering, as she brought her gun out slowly from its holster. "Don't suppose you do the... fancy work, Monsieur...?" she made the last word a question, as though asking for his name.}

[Khaki]

His eyes caught the movement in her coat and he lifted the sledgehammer onto his shoulder only slightly casually. He was pretty good at swinging it, and a hard enough blow would splat her brains on the ball. "Oui, I do fancy work." He pointed at the ceiling, "Got a few, not for sale though, désolé." He apologized, his eyes not leaving his guest however. "If you leave an order, I will get to its later." He winced at the extra s on it, but hell, French was his native tongue, not English.

[Pepper]

_{"Sí, muy bien," she nodded, seeing him lift the sledgehammer to his shoulder. It was a close-range weapon, but she had the gun. So long as she stayed out of his reach, this wouldn't be any more difficult... so she hoped. "I will... how do you say it... take an order with you." Her gun came up, aiming for his forehead. "Véale en infierno, usted el cerdo blanco," she smiled, her voice and expression completely at odds with her words. Pulling the trigger, she cursed as her hand trembled, jerking the shot towards his right.}

[Khaki]

Flint moved just as fast, feeling a searing pain in his right eye. Ignoring the blistering mind numbing pain he lashed out with the sledgehammer. Hitting women? If they deserved it yeah. This one was obviously someone's agent. And not a White one either. So she was only trouble. And she was making trouble at his shop, on his turf, and it seriously pissed him off.

[Pepper]

_{The blood on his face startled her, and she jumped, avoiding the worst of the swing but taking some of it to the ribs. "¡Usted perro repugnante!" she hissed, clutching her side and leveling the gun at his face once again. "¿Por qué usted apenas no muere?" Another shot, the sound echoing off the walls of the small shop. Damnation, but that hurt... she wouldn't be surprised if she had at least one broken bone. He had power behind that swing... she had to admire it, just a little.}

[Khaki]

This time she got him good, he stumbled back, managing to pull his own gun from under his desk, even as he bled profusely on the floor. Cursing in, worse than a sailor mind you, heated French. His .35 caliber was lifted and aimed, and he shot. Being without one eye greatly impaired his range of vision and judgement. She would be lucky, still, if he missed.

[Pepper]

_{Swearing herself at the heat of the bullet as it tore into her shoulder, she clapped her hand to the wound, feeling blood ooze through her fingers. "Fuck... You ruined my best blazer, you ass!" Aiming once more, she felt her hand shake and tremble, trying to hold it still long enough to blow his head off. "Stand still, pendejo..." growling, trying to distract him from the fact that her fingers didn't want to stay steady.}

[Khaki]

"You took my best eye, bitch." The Frenchman snarled, ducking behind his fire cavern. His gun peeked around and he fired. There would be no way he as going to lose a gunfight to a women. Especially in his shop, he had work to finish and crap to do. This injury was going to set him back, and if White said a damn thing he'd castrate the sonofabitch.

[Pepper]

_{"If you hadn't moved, I'd've taken your head! Although I doubt it is the one you think with!" she spat, hearing the whine as the bullet ricocheted off the wall behind her head. Dodging, she rolled to crouch beside the tank of water that the man had used to quench the metal he had been working with. "No es nada personal, señor, but you already knew that, I think." Her pistol aimed for where his had been, hoping to disarm him. "I should have gone for the sniping," she groused under her breath.}

[Khaki]

"My dick has nothing to do with this, Spanish pig." He sneered, feeling lightheaded from a mix of pain and blood loss. She'd definitely taken his eye out, the whore. He snuck around the side of his heater, and then fired at her again. "If you know what's good for you, you'll leave now." To be honest he wanted her to leave so he could get to a hospital. Dying of a wound after the fact was humiliating.

[Pepper]

_{"My apologies. It must be very small to be so insignificant," she snorted, then gasped as the bullet sliced through the skin of her cheek. "Fuck me," she grumbled. "I'm not going to leave until you're dead, usted perro francés," although her own blood loss would soon be more than enough to make her woozy. "Madre de Dios..."}

[Khaki]

"You'll never know, Spanish boars like you won't ever see it." The Frenchman jeered, very protective of his manhood. Even when bleeding profusely and seeing double. "That's alright with me, give me plenty of time to kill you too." And he aimed, fired, and pulled back, feeling way too dizzy, his eyes crossing briefly, before he closed them tight.