asthehawkflies | [#000] Appointments

People have changed the world over dreams. It's not that strange.

[He gives a brief nod at that. She puts it much more eloquently than he could.

And then she's swearing and he can't help but grin at that. Considering last time they'd talked, she'd spoken about how swearing was beneath her.]

It does. Feeling like you're a burden, like you're unwanted. It's pretty fucking crap.

Now you sound like my father.

[The thought pulls a faint smile from her. A little bitter, mostly sweet.]

It's shit is what it is. Being told from day one during my stay in Paris that I'm only weighing my sister down, and then proving them right, more or less? There will be no living with them anymore. I do not look forward to the phonecalls I'm going to receive over this.

[She pitches her voice in a mocking falsetto.]

"You should have worked harder- drilled more." Fuck that. If I wanted to lame myself, I would have. I happen to like being able to walk.

Better than sounding like mine.

[He says it in a low voice, muttered and bitter, more talking to himself than to her.]

So don't live with them. There any way you can leave?

[His idea about how to live on your own are vastly different to most people.]

Walking is helpful, yeah.

[He glanced around the set up of the room, the barre and the mirrors.]

You want to shoot this place up?

Mm?

[It fit a bit with what he'd muttered that one time. There was a story here, one she might know later. She wasn't sure.]

...Robert an I can afford to get a flat. I think. He has some money in savings and I can earn a bit on the side playing piano I suppose.

Shoot it up?

[She quirks a brow and looks around. There was still that simmering resentment. It could be cathartic.]

I like the sound of that.

[He's smiling instantly. He hadn't said anything, really. Nope. Just your imagination.]

That's good then. You'll figure something out.

[He positively grins when she agrees and goes to call up some weapons for her to use.]

What's your poison? Bow? Guns? Grenades?

A revolver?

[What, they were the classiest sort of gun.]

Actually, why not all three?

All three it is. Lady after my own heart.

[It takes a few moments to get the computer to simulate a selection of weapons for her perusal. Some handguns and revolvers, a couple of machine guns, a bow and, as promised, a selection of explosives.]

Take your pick.

[It never ceased to amaze her how easily this system works.]

I'd always wondered what I would do with a holodeck or something similar. Shooting up a practice room wasn't on the top of the list, though I really think it ought to be.

[She peers over the selection available before selecting a modest revolver. She handles it carefully, checks the cylinder with a measure of some familiarity, gauges the weight of it before nodding to herself.]

Well, you get to add it to the list and cross it off all at the same time, right?

[For himself, Clint chose his typical sidearm, automatically checking the clip despite it just being a simulation. He smiled at Adele when she chose.]

Good choice.

Well, since this is your simulation, please, ladies first.

How very efficient.

[She huffs a soft laugh and picks a point along the far mirrored wall, sliding into the firing stance her father taught her. One foot slightly behind, firing arm slightly bent, supportive arm perpendicular to the ground and bent. She takes a slow breath, squeezes the trigger and adjusts for the recoil of the revolver while the miror cracks in a large spiderweb from the bullet.]

[The mirror makes a really satisfying noise when the bullet hits it. It feels kind of like a movie, just shooting up a random place because... well, because they can. It's not necessarily the healthiest thing, but just once can't hurt, right?]

Nice shot.

[For himself, he takes aim at the barre itself, hitting close to where it attaches to the wall and leaving splintered wood behind.]

[Catharsis is always healthy. Just. As long as it's constructive. This is hardly constructive but Adele really can't care about that right now. She's too busy giggling at the splinter of glass and the sudden crack of a bullet against wood.]

Not exactly bottles on a fence post, and this is a bit more powerful than my father's revolver, but the basics are the same.

[She lines up for a second shot, this time trying to aim at and hit the chain of one of the vaulted lights above. It's off by a bit- so the bulbs shatter instead.]

[There is actually a certain satisfaction in the wanton destruction. No worrying about targets or scores or whether someone would get hurt, just watching glass shatter and wood break.]

Military and Police issue Smith and Wesson Model 15. It's a decent gun. And you're a pretty good shot.

[He laughs at the rain of glass as it falls and takes aim at the chain that she'd just missed, and fires, taking it down easily.]

I think his is...a Manurhin MR 73, I think. My father's revolver. He is the one that taught me to shoot.

[She shrugs and adjusts her stance, taking a crack at the other mirror in the center- the sharp shatter of glass is very satisfying.]

He did a good job. Maybe you should become a marksman.

[He switches out the gun for a knife and tests the weight before hurling it towards one of the windows. It makes a satisfying crash as it breaks.]

Can I truly make a living doing that?

[She checks her cylinder, picks a far mirror yet unshattered and takes her last three shorts in rapid succession, managing a tight little grouping. Glass splinters and falls and she can't quite muffle her faint giggle. The gun's set aside and she pads back to the table, running her fingers over the bow.]

I do.

Wouldn't recommend following in my footsteps but there's the military. Good marksmen are hard to find.

[He doesn't bother collecting the knife, but follows her over to the table.]

You want to try it out?

I don't know about that. We haven't had any members of the family in the military before...or the police force. We don't tend to take violence well.

[She drums her fingers on the table, rolling the idea around in her mind. It required discipline, mental and physical. Technical proficiency. It wasn't so strange an idea.]

I would.

First time for everything. And you're not really supposed to take violence well I don't think. It's more... being able to accept that it happens and work around it.

[He nods when she says she wants to try shooting it.]

It's a recurve bow. Hold it in your off hand.

I am not certain how well I would be able to- but then I have never attempted to think on it very long.

[She nods, picking it up with her right hand and getting a feel for the weight of it. He walked her through this a few years ago, to her mind. She remembers how it ought to feel.]

That's good to hear. That's how it should be.

[He watches her pick up the bow, and he's glad she's remembered, even if it was only a couple of days ago for him.]

Remember your stance. It's your foundation, where you draw strength from.

[A long while- but once a stance is learned, she can always find her way back to it. It'll take time, but she'll find it. Adele pulls an arrow from a quiver on the table and knocks it, settling into the stance Clint had taught her. She has to shift her feet and spend some time adjusting her shoulders before she actually lifts and draws back, and spends a few more seconds adjusting her aim until it all felt right.]

Like this, yes?

[He nods approvingly, only pausing for a moment to tilt her arm up slightly.]]

Good. That's good.

Always remember, once you've drawn, there's little chance of going back. Make sure you've picked the right target.

[She makes the adjustment as bid, takes a slow breath and releases it while she focuses on her target. The record player in the far corner. A beat, she looses the arrow and watches it fly- and fall short by a few inches, embedding itself in the hardwood floor.]

Merde.

Edited 2012-11-17 23:57 (UTC)

[He doesn't watch the arrow. That's not relevant once it's been loosed. He keeps his gaze on her stance, her position.]

Not bad. You're... remember to breathe. Take your time with it. Own the shot.

[#000] Appointments

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

Re: [Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome

[Action] November 11th, Battledome