Jacket (PR RPM)
Apr. 12th, 2011 05:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
estiroseI've had this on Ghostly for a bit, but I thought I might post it here.
Jacket
by Estirose
c 2011
He ran his fingers over the jacket before him. It had been delivered earlier that morning, but he’d been too busy training to notice.
It was like the others’ jackets, black leather, but his had dark green on it, in the stripes on the sleeves, in the stylized “4″ on the back, on the piping, on the small patch that indicated that he was part of Project Ranger and that he was Ranger Operator Series Green. He remembered running his fingers over Dillon’s, still amazed he was able to get something so close to awesome, and dreaming of wearing the jacket himself, even as he knew he’d never remotely meet the qualifications for any morpher.
He thought that the shade they’d chosen was funny, because his suit was light green, but in some ways the darkness fit him. His shirts were the same dark shade, but that was his own choice. Doctor K had said something about biofields and the advantages of wearing green at all times, not that it made much sense.
In any case, the jacket was as much his as the morpher. Both reminders of what he’d chosen in that moment of decision, chosen what would cause him a lot of pain, but still, it was also incredibly cool to be a Ranger even as it meant that he’d probably get himself killed trying to do the Ranger thing.
But, as he ran his hands over the leather, over the black and the green, he felt he was starting to belong. That he’d found home, that he’d found his place, that he’d found what he should ultimately be a part of.
He slipped on the jacket, grinning like an idiot he was sure, but grinning still. He matched. He belonged. He was part of something now, something good.
Admiring himself once more in the mirror, he went to join the others.
Jacket
by Estirose
c 2011
He ran his fingers over the jacket before him. It had been delivered earlier that morning, but he’d been too busy training to notice.
It was like the others’ jackets, black leather, but his had dark green on it, in the stripes on the sleeves, in the stylized “4″ on the back, on the piping, on the small patch that indicated that he was part of Project Ranger and that he was Ranger Operator Series Green. He remembered running his fingers over Dillon’s, still amazed he was able to get something so close to awesome, and dreaming of wearing the jacket himself, even as he knew he’d never remotely meet the qualifications for any morpher.
He thought that the shade they’d chosen was funny, because his suit was light green, but in some ways the darkness fit him. His shirts were the same dark shade, but that was his own choice. Doctor K had said something about biofields and the advantages of wearing green at all times, not that it made much sense.
In any case, the jacket was as much his as the morpher. Both reminders of what he’d chosen in that moment of decision, chosen what would cause him a lot of pain, but still, it was also incredibly cool to be a Ranger even as it meant that he’d probably get himself killed trying to do the Ranger thing.
But, as he ran his hands over the leather, over the black and the green, he felt he was starting to belong. That he’d found home, that he’d found his place, that he’d found what he should ultimately be a part of.
He slipped on the jacket, grinning like an idiot he was sure, but grinning still. He matched. He belonged. He was part of something now, something good.
Admiring himself once more in the mirror, he went to join the others.
