all i wanna do ( bang bang bang bang )

[cons]

CHARACTERS: Wichita and YOU.
LOCATION: an unused REC ROOM.
WARNINGS: GUNS! ..yeah that's it. people will likely hear gunshots from the hallway, but nobody's getting hurt or anything.
SUMMARY: Wichita is having a little target practice of her own, because it's better than sitting around waiting for the next Horrible Thing to happen, heh.
NOTES: here is the accompanying network post. safety first! it really is OTA, if anybody just wants to tag around with Wichita I'm cool with that too. come one and all!


[ it took a while to set the whole thing up, but Wichita's managed to turn one of the recreation rooms into a bonafide shooting range. maybe not so much 'bonafide' as it is 'makeshift'. it's just like home! kind of. not like there were shooting ranges they could safely practice at in Zombieland, so they had to make due with what they had. abandoned barns, warehouses, sometimes big houses. any place with enough room to shoot and not worry about getting hit with debris. and this place does the trick!

she's got a few mats propped up against the back wall for stray bullets with enough buffer room to avoid putting dents in the hull, set up behind her intended targets, which are plates and cups and random things from a couple of the kitchens on the upper floors. things they've got enough of on the floors that actually have people living on them. that's her justification anyway; they'll be fine without a few plates.

it's been about twenty minutes since she finished the room and sent out her transmission, but she hasn't actually fired any shots yet. instead she's just leaning back against the wall on the opposite side of her targets, checking over her gun for the first time in a while. she almost always carries it on her, but actually firing it? it's been a while. like, not once since she got here. weird. but whatever, that's why she set this all up, so she could practice, get comfortable using it again. like hell was she going to get brainwashed or whatever because she couldn't defend herself. no, nobody would be getting the better of her like that again.

it's not long before she's lining up her first shot, not aiming for a target, but just a spot on one of those mats. it feels weirdly natural, holding her gun again. like now that she's doing it, it doesn't feel like it was that long ago that she was back home, running for her life and shooting down zombies. going for the headshot, sometimes actually hitting it, though mostly ended up getting them in the chest. whatever. whatever. she'd get better now, that's what this was about. so she breathes. and shoots.

blam, blam, blam.

yeah, she'll be fine. ]

Comments

[sebasher]

[ Even several floors away, Moran practically tunes in to the gunshots. He can't actually hear them, of course, but he knows they're happening and where gunshots are happening, that's where Sebastian Moran has to be.

Granted, Wichita's video message calling him out might have more to do with it than actually sensing it, but he doesn't care. Rifle or no rifle, he's keen on showing off his shot, so he loads his revolver and takes off for the eleventh floor rec room. He finds the targets are disappointing, but he can't be picky, can he? He'll just have to imagine Jim Moriarty's face in each and every one of those plates. Bit of mental payback for the couch.

He manages to slip in quietly enough, but it's not quite the entrance he's going for. In the spirit of things, he announces his presence by firing one shot into the air. ]

[cons]

Whuh!

[ whipping her gun that way now, towards the door, eyes wide, shoulders tense-! and then she's SIGHING the most annoyed sigh that has ever been sighed, cocking her gun back before dropping her hand to her side. ]

I said knock. For a reason! [ she doesn't sound angry so much as she's just uppity from being surprised like that, and then her eyes are peeking up, checking to see what kind of damage he caused. weirdly ( or maybe not ) the shot only left a small dent in the ceiling, from what she can tell, the bullet embedded in the middle of it. at least now she knows she's not going to cause the ship to implode or something if she misses the mat. good to know! ]

[sebasher]

Did you?

[ Moran chuckles and cranes his neck toward the ceiling to see the damage done. It was a pitifully wasted shot, but it made the effect he was going for.]

My heartfelt apologies, miss. [He taps a fist against his chest, putting on the most sincere expression possible. So sincere that it doesn't actually come across as sincere at all.] No one ever said the manner in which I should have knocked.

[ She had mentioned knocking, of course, but after the words "shooting range" had been uttered, Sebastian had all but tuned out of the rest of her video post. With a smile, he turns to inspect the targets.]

I see you haven't captured the turkey.

[cons]

Easy mistake, I definitely could have meant knocking on the ceiling with a bullet, you're right. [ SIGH. again. a literal heaving sigh because he is so strange, but the fact that he's so strange makes him seem pretty harmless, so she'll just continue on encouraging him. oops bad call she rolls the last bit of her nerves out of her shoulders, finally turning to face him properly with the most even expression she can manage, even stopping herself from rolling her eyes at him. ]

I didn't want to break any targets before you got here, considering we've got a pretty limited supply. [ her eyes narrow a bit, but it's only because she got a thinky-thought. well, and she's still judging Moran like, a lot, but. mostly the thinking thing. ] How should we do this, then? Best out of five? Not that it's a competition. [ it is. ] I figure we should limit how many we break just for the sake of showing that I could kill a turkey if I wanted to.

[sebasher]

Best out of five it is.

[ And, surprisingly, he holsters his gun and steps aside with a smile to offer Wichita the full shooting range. ] Ladies first.

[ It's an act in every way. He's no gentleman, but sometimes it pays to turn the proper manners on. This is a competition to him, as most things are, and he knows that people who aren't aware of his record as one of the best shots in India are often very quick to write him off based on his behavior alone. Letting Wichita go first gives her the opportunity to get comfortable, and gives Sebastian the opportunity to see what sort of aim she's capable of. It will also allow him to show off a bit when his turn comes up. Just a bit. ]

[learnedtosmile]

[Blake waits a while, why, exactly, he's not quite sure. Maybe just to reduce the chances that a bunch of people will be around to see him carrying his gun. He hasn't exactly been forthcoming about the fact that he has it - mostly to discourage people from trying to steal it from him.

And he hates using it, but even he has to admit, it's a viable tool for self-defense, particularly in the close quarters of the ship, with, well. Werewolves roaming around.

But he hasn't fired it in months, hadn't been able to carry it around back home since Bane took over, and he's out of practice. So he follows the sounds of shooting, his gun and the spare magazine inside his jacket.

He knocks firmly on the door, because safety first and the last thing he wants is Wichita firing at his head or something.]

[cons]

C'mon in! [ pretty good timing on his part, because she needs to set up more plates anyway. there's a mess on the floor under the table they're all lined up on, but it's all against one wall so she figures it's not so bad. still, she's careful as she makes her way over there, grabbing more dishes off the stack she brought in and moving to line them up. ]

[learnedtosmile]

[Blake enters, and removes his jacket before checking his gun once more - safety first, and the safety needs to be off before he can fire it.]

Haven't run out of plates, yet?

[cons]

Nope! [ she may or may not have left to grab another stack from the kitchens, but we're not telling anyone that. they can deal with it after the next jump, if the plates aren't replaced somehow by then. ] People must have snagged more before they came to shoot.

[learnedtosmile]

[Somehow, Blake doesn't really care too much about the plates on the ship. So no lectures today.

He sets up a plate of his own, carefully, and when she's out of the way, he shoots it. There's maybe a minute almost-flinch when he fires, and his mouth is set in a grim line, but his tone is conversational.] Where did you learn to shoot?

[the_infiltrator]

[Cameron doesn't need to work on her targeting. She does, however, need to see what weapons the other residents on the ship have, so she heads to the shooting range.

And enters without knocking.]

[cons]

[ luckily, by now Wichita can recognize the swunf of the door opening even over the sound of gunshots, and she gives the new occupant a nod over her shoulder before she steps back from where she'd been shooting. the boundaries of the room are all pretty vague, but they're clear enough judging by where everyone's standing while they shoot, where they leave their things to reload, where it's okay to just watch. not that the room is packed, but there are enough of them now to make her feel less weird about stepping away and talking to the new people that come in. ]

Hey, I'm Wichita. [all casual and normal, trying to give off the right impression - I'm in charge here, I can handle this. her gun's too hot to tuck into her jeans, so instead she just holds it loosely at her side, locked, the comfortable stance of somebody that isn't weirded out by guns anymore ] Do you've a gun, or are you just here to watch?

[the_infiltrator]

I have a gun. But I thought I'd watch. [She looks Wichita over, committing bits of information to memory, superfluous or not. The important thing is that she seems very comfortable in her own skin, unlike most people Cameron met back home. The gun just seems an extension of the girl, which is impressive.]

Why did you learn to shoot?

[cons]

Why? Long story short, zombies. [ but then she remembers; ] Um, started as a virus that spread too fast for anyone to try and cure. It turned people into angry, hungry, killing machines. Had to learn to shoot in order to survive the world after that.

[the_infiltrator]

You must be very good at surviving. Where did the virus come from? Do you think it's a threat here?

[vindicating]

[Despite what Jay told Wichita when they spoke, he wasn't exactly unfamiliar with using a gun but it wasn't something he advertised much. His situation back home has taught him he needs to be more cautious with who he can even trust and though logically he probably had nothing to worry about people recognizing him for other reasons, he could never be too careful.

It was easier to say he would just watch instead when Wichita offered, so it wasn't until a bit later that he headed over and knocks on the door]

[cons]

You may enter!

[ because it was getting really boring, just saying 'come in!' to everyone that knocked. so yes, she had to do a very ridiculous impression of Queen Elizabeth. or at least, what she thinks Queen Elizabeth might have sounded like when she was allowing someone entrance into her throne room. ... Why is she thinking about this so much?! she breaks her stance to laugh a little bit, turning to see who she's just weirded out with that ridiculous introduction. ]

I'm not completely insane, I promise. [ he's not even all the way in the room yet and she's kind of sheeepish ] Who said it was okay for me to carry a gun, I mean honestly. [ and now her eyes are on the floor, head dropped forward. this is a look of defeat, can you tell ]

[vindicating]

[okay, he had to laugh a bit too hearing that impression as he entered further inside]

Hey. I didn't think that you were— [there's a pause as he looks at the set up of the room with all the targets around] So how is your practicing going?

[cons]

Eh! It's alright. [ probably more dinks in the mat behind the plates than there should be, missed shots, but she's not about to bring attention to it. there are a lot more broken plates than misses, and she's not out of bullets yet, so. whatever. she's not worried. ] Only a little bit rusty.

[vindicating]

It seems like you're doing pretty good to me.

If I were to try I'd probably be a pretty lousy shot. [That part isn't too far off from the truth at least]

WOW THIS IS LATE hope you don't mind?

[bottlearum]

[He's drawn to the sound of shooting.

He caught sight of Wichita's message on the feed and finds himself quite curious to see how well other people are at shooting. He brings his gun with him--as though it's not already on him full time--and makes his way to the shooting range.

He doesn't bother to knock when he enters the room, just pushing open the doors and walking in, watching her take a few shots. She addresses her when she's finished taking a few.]

Not bad, luv, not bad.

[heterophobe]

[ he doesn't—

give a shit,
care about her,
worry that she'll shoot her own eye out because that's not fresh out of a crackerack box, pops

—know what the fuck he's doing here.

he pulls a face that he has to establish it, to himself, within the safety of his own mind. and drags himself out of his bedroom with five o'clock shadow and hair that's messy and growing out but somehow still manages not to look fluffy, although, it's also nowhere close to flawless. unacceptable, to be frank. he hasn't even bothered to dress up, jeans and a shirt. but. he is making an appearance in the first place and anyone that knows Brian Kinney knows that he doesn't do anything he doesn't want to do, come hell or high water. he makes it high on his priorities not to meddle in the lives of his employees but with a fist on the door she's shooting rounds off in, he's pissing that away. namely because it doesn't sit well. guns. practicing for self-defense. or worse. he's not sure which it is, with Wichita but he knows it makes him uncomfortable for more than one reason.

it's her business, of course, to do whatever the fuck she wants. just not at the expense of being a loose canon, and maybe that's it. why he's here, why he's rolling his lips in his mouth and staring up at what he supposes classifies as a ceiling, waiting for the go ahead to enter. ballsy as he may be, he prefers his face not split open. ]

[cons]

[ Wichita's actually sitting on the floor across from that row of plates, all broken up under the bench, save two, and she's too damn lazy to go pick them up or stack up more. her head kinda tips when she hears the door knock, cocks her gun back so it's not so obvious she was taking shots from the floor. yeah, super safe. ]

It's open!

[heterophobe]

[ he strolls in like he wasn't waiting on her call, her permission, or anyone else's cue. he surveys the room first; criticizes the mats, the dishes, whatever she's currently calling targets. Brian tries to pull something from it, something about her. failing that, the silent but not necessarily cold gaze turns on her finally. ]

You crazy kids and your hobbies. [ hello, next time, might also be suitable. he moves, winds over her legs where she's seated, hip pressing into the wall because he hasn't decided if he's staying. if he ought to sit on the floor with her. ]

[cons]

I know, I know. [ like she's at all bashful or ashamed of the fact that she's comfortable handling a gun. she peeks up at him through her bangs, scrunches her nose ] Pop a squat, bossman. The floor's clean enough.