( It sure would be nice to be able to say this is the first time Karen Page has ever pointed a gun at his face. There's something distinctly funny about the first five seconds of this scene — the whirl of a barrel, the dark and imposing shape that is Frank, Karen's slender figure at arms and her hands entirely too steady, Frank's own hands coming up to hover placatingly in the air. Not because he couldn't disarm a civilian easier than breathing, but because right now, he doesn't have a reason to. That pistol pointed at his face barely a pea-shooter compared to the heft of the rifle hanging from a shoulder strap at his side.
He's out here for the same reason as her — that scream, that woman's voice, carrying through the silence of his dark and empty bedroom with the kind of terror that suggests victim. He's not the hero type, but he's also not the type to sit back while somebody takes advantage of a woman within shouting distance, so here they are.
Only now, his eyes have adjusted, and he can finally make out her face through the darkness. His hands drop instantly as he rasps out an incredulous, )
POWER OUTAGE; this never happened tho.
He's out here for the same reason as her — that scream, that woman's voice, carrying through the silence of his dark and empty bedroom with the kind of terror that suggests victim. He's not the hero type, but he's also not the type to sit back while somebody takes advantage of a woman within shouting distance, so here they are.
Only now, his eyes have adjusted, and he can finally make out her face through the darkness. His hands drop instantly as he rasps out an incredulous, )
Karen?