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Jorge sighed as he stared across at the target with the grouping of shots in the very center. He had to admit that he was a little surprised with himself that he had managed to get the grouping he did. After all, it had been a piece since he had actively practiced and while on the job he relied more on his mutation if anything. After all, a surge of water was less liable to get the man trouble than a gunshot wound. But that was just his opinion.

Still though, it was good to know that his skills were not as rusty as all that. But the detective was a skilled marksman so he doubted he could easily lose any of his talents. When he was in the academy, he always had high marks in his marksmanship training. It was a conscious choice on his part. He knew that when the situation arose and he had to use his gun, he wanted to make damn sure his aim was going to true. Too many times people got hurt or died because of someone who did not take the time to learn to shot properly, to aim and make their shot count.

He had already lost someone due to accident. And he was not going to be the one to force someone else to go through that as well.

After he set the empty magazine aside, Jorge began to ready the next one when he heard a voice call out from down the way…

>> "Anyone mind if I advance on my target?"

Jorge heard a few mumbles from the rest of the people gathered. It was then that he noticed the man that had stepped out onto the dirt. He was of average height but he had a strength about him that Jorge simply had to respect. As he looked in his direction inquiringly, Jorge simply nodded his head to give him the go ahead.

So that was the guy with the excellent aim. He looked younger, but the detective was respectful of the talent the man already displayed. With that last thought, though, he turned back to his own target.

Jorge sighed as he slipped his glock 19 into the holster attached to his belt. One breath followed another as he attempted to bolster his focus and drown out the rest of the world around him. Quietly he slipped on his safety glasses, as well as placed a pair of earplugs in his ears. As he did so, all fears melted away, thoughts about work, about the X-Men, they all vanished as he pared down his attention so that it was squarely on the moment; him, a target, and his gun. Gently he cracked his neck to the side to ease that tension as he moved into a weaver stance, as he opened his eyes and eyed the target ahead of him.

But even as the detective watched the target and slowly prepared himself, he could not help but hear some of the gunshots echo through the layer of the plugs in his ears. He had to admit that it was quite a loud gun. Shot after shot rang out and Jorge, curious, glanced down the rest of the range. It was there that he spied it, the target that now had its center completely eaten away by bullets.

“Impressive,” he mumbled to himself before he turned back to his own target.

Standing comfortably, Jorge eyed the target closely as he began to count down in the back of his mind, reading himself to test his own skills.

3…2…1…

In a flash the detective move. Slipping subconsciously into the weaver stance, Jorge pulled the firearm from its holster and raised it up, the barrel aimed directly at the target. With each squeeze of the trigger, a round fired and decimated a spot on the target. Over and over again bullets flew, straight and true while the detective did not waver in his position. Once the last round was fired, Jorge carefully moved his finger away from the trigger and glanced down the range.

A nice grouping in the center of the bullseye. He nodded as he prepared to load the next magazine…

((OOC: Sorry for the wait, Ranger. Hope this is okay, especially since I know nothing about guns! ))


Detective Jorge Cervantes was on the road to the outskirts of New York City. Driving in his black, ’67 Chevy Impala, the officer sighed as he kept glance at the road signs, looking for his correct exit. Dark brown eyes hidden behind his glasses, the man mumbled along with a tones and beats of the song that poured out from the speakers. It filled the interior of the car with a joyous sound that the detective could not help but grin to. This was the music his youth, tied to the good memories that made him the man he was today. They didn’t make music like this anymore.

Peering out the window, the man finally found his exit and turned. He was on a mission today. He had been trying to clock in time to work on his marksmanship back at a precinct range, but he found himself either too busy or always going when there were too many people. Quite frankly, the detective preferred peace and quiet when it came to his training, not the riotous jokesters of his precinct.

So, after some careful day planning, Jorge found the time to go to his favorite range…Straight Shooters Pistol and Rifle Range. It was his secret from the precinct since the last thing he wanted was to run into the guys at this place. He hoped he could get in some good shooting. It felt like it had been far too long since he worked out on his aim.

After he pulled up to the range, Jorge removed his gun case from his trunk and casually made his way to small building where he was pay for his time and targets. The sounds of gunfire echoed from the range and he sighed a little; it felt good to come back.

Once money had exchanged hands, Jorge moved on to the range. He passed another person or two, but the majority of them seemed happy to content themselves with their own firing. Once he was settled, target set-up, Jorge placed his case on the counter and pulled out his police issue glock 19. Also in the case were a pair of magazines, each housing their fifteen count, 9mm rounds.

Letting out a slow, breath, Jorge closed out the rest of the world as he set loading his first magazine and eyed the target that was stood 50 yards away. The detective was a damn good marksman and it was not a talent he wanted (or could allow) let slip into obscurity.

Now, Jorge was not like your typical man. He knew how to clean, he knew how to keep his living space tidy and neat. But lately he just didn’t have the time to do so. Things at the precinct had been hectic as much as Jorge wanted to keep everything nice and neat at home, it was simply far too easier to just flop down on the couch and nap. Unfortunately that never lasted long because he was always called in to another case or some emergency down at the precinct.

Today though, today was going to be a day off. With only a couple of errands to run, his plan was to clean up his apartment once he had gotten home for the evening. But then Gemma beat him to the punch.

Once glance at his apartment, which had steadily been on the decline, and Gemma made the decision, she was going to clean. Before he knew it, both he and Chase were ushered out of the apartment and where left standing in the hall as his door was closed and locked behind him. He had the key, but that would not do him much good if Gemma had managed to slide on the chain, which he was fairly certain that she did.

>> “Go bond…I need to clean.”

Jorge blinked at the command. Nervously he reached back and rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a little awkward about leaving Gemma behind to clean his place. After all, that was not her job and that was his home. But…he knew better than to argue with her.

>> “Um… Wh-what just happened?”[/color]

A sigh and Jorge smirked a little nervously as he glanced down to Chase.

“Um…I…think we were locked out of the apartment,” he said with a nod.

He knew that this was more than just a need to clean. Gemma wanted both Jorge and Chase to bond. The kid’s birthday party was fun and every subsequent meeting after that went swimmingly, but Chase and Jorge were never alone together. Gemma had brought this up before, that they needed alone time so that they could get to know each other better and bond. It seemed that now his loving girlfriend, and Chase’s sweet mother, had found the perfect opportunity for them to actually attempt some form of connection. Unfortunately…Jorge really had no idea what to do.

He smirked a little as he glanced at Chase.

“I…guess we can go and do stuff?” he asked. “You…want to help me run some errands? Then, I guess we can pick up some lunch?”

He really did not know what to do. He liked the boy, he really did, but he simply was not sure how Chase really felt about him. Sure he had gotten him a birthday gift, and they watched TV, and shared various other activities with each other but they were always under the Gemma’s watchful eye. Never had they really been alone. What if Chase was only fronting for Gemma’s sake? The detective guessed that today would be the day to find out.

A smile, and he nodded to Chase, waiting for his response. Today…was certainly going to be an adventure…

I figured I'd take a stab at it. Hope that it is okay, Sky. If you want any changes, just let me know.


http://i59.photobucket.com/albums/g299/JohntheSilver/Sigs%20and%20Avatars%20for%20MRO/skydancer1.jpg

Water. It was such a powerful force. A force that can never truly be contained because of the sheer volume and rage it can possess when it is provoked. But Jorge Cervantes, he knew water. He knew water because he felt a special connection to it. A connection that allowed him to bend it to his will but only in the most respectful of manners. Then that connection grew deeper when his powers evolved to the point that he could actually become that very element that he so trusted. It allowed him to perceive it in a way that he had never seen it before. He felt part of it, and it was part of him.

It was this mentality that Jorge took with him when he shifted into a being of pure water and let himself fall in the churning ocean below. It was madness to do such a thing since he still did not have full control over his power. Holding onto the water form and keeping him from falling apart was exceedingly difficult and that was just on dry land. Here he was throwing himself into a large, churning ocean where he could easily lose himself in his element.

But my some miracle or sheer force of will, Jorge managed to hang on. He held onto himself as he exerted his control of the wild element that surrounded him on all sides. It took control, it took mastery, but finally, Jorge managed to get enough of a foothold into the element to ask for its assistance.

Please…listen to me… he thought.

Whether he was talking to the water, to God, or just to his mutation, Jorge didn’t know. All he knew was that he needed to ask for help. And in the end, that was exactly what he had received. The water connected with him, and more and more of it began to listen to his heed. It was enough for Jorge to force himself to rise out of the water as a entity, a being of water itself. It looked as if an old god from the very dredges of the ocean was awakening from his millennia of sleep.

Towering next to the shore, Jorge, in his watery form, opened his eyes as he felt his mind connecting with the multitude of water that surged around him. Fists gripped, he caused as massive whirlpool to whip around him as he stared ahead. Through the watery veil in front of his eyes, he watched as the people slid down to the beach, cowering from the oncoming lava and marveling at the vision that Jorge made. But the detective did not just stand there, looking impressive. He soon broke into action.

Fists clenched, suddenly the water elemental raised his arms, in an almost praise-like way, and instantly the water of the very ocean itself sprang to the call. It swirled up and above, spinning around him in a massive wave that looked dangerous because of its fury, but released a riot of colors as the sunlight shined through each droplet.

With a thunderous road, Jorge suddenly shot both of his hands forward and the water from the ocean spilled onto the beach with a loud CRASH! People screamed and recoiled but soon they realized that the water was not coming towards them at all. Instead, thanks to Jorge’s manipulation, it skirted right past them and flew to the very farthest that he could push it. Once he was close to his limit, Jorge concentrated his hardest and swept out with both of his hands.

He bellowed, loud, in his watery form as he felt the strain of connecting with so much water but he did not shy away. Despite the exhaustion, despite the sheer pain, he fought through it pulled as much water as he could and raised it up so that it began to spin. It was slow at first, barely noticeably, but as the lava flowed closer, suddenly Jorge raised the water so that it formed a swift moving, defensively shield around not only the people on the beach, but the beach itself.

Limbs shaking, water droplets falling to the ground, Jorge spun and spun the tidal shield that he had managed to place on the land. Water churned faster and faster, protecting those people on land with a mist of shedding water and a kaleidoscope of color. The second the water met lava, an angry hiss filled the air. But Jorge did not stop. More and more water he pulled from the ocean as he kept the water spinning and the barrier up.

He was going to save these people…even at the cost of his life…