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

[cons]

Yeah, your thing. You're one of the good guys. Kittens in trees, remember? [ yeah, she did ask. mostly because these are the things that make him real, to her, little details she can't just make up in her head as reasons to write him off or whatever. and if he's going to look at her, she won't look away. they're not close enough for the eye contact to feel too weird, so. ]

Okay, okay. So. Do you trust your instinct? Every other time, every other thing, do you trust your gut?

[learnedtosmile]

[Blake just shakes his head a little.] In an investigation, sometimes I act on a hunch. But this is different. I have no frame of reference for it.

Maybe it's my thing to feel remorse about ending a life, whether it was the right decision or not.

[cons]

Ehh. [ not the dismissive kind of ehh, but she's trying to think ] I think there's a difference between... feeling remorse and not being able to forgive yourself for something. Of course you should feel like crap about it, but not forgiving yourself is like asking to be weighed down by it for longer than you probably should be. [ she's scratching the back of her head now while she talks, and yep that's definitely an awful habit she picked up from Brendan, so she cuts it out immediately. ] To me it's like one of those things you gotta kinda... take in and deal with and not move on from, but. There's a word for it, uh. Carp- Compartmentalize! What if something like that happens again? You can't be worried about- You can't hesitate. [ uh oooh, somebody's worrying over you, Robbie ]

[learnedtosmile]

[Blake just watches her, almost fascinated as she speaks - it's weird hearing it from someone younger than him. It's not bad advice per se, though it's exactly the sort of thing (if a little less eloquent and canned) that always pissed him off as a kid, hearing it from adults in his life. Move on, it sounded like deal with it and forget them. Or at least, it had always sounded like that to his twelve-year-old self.

But here and now, Blake doesn't get angry, he doesn't yell at her that she doesn't understand, none of the things he used to do. Instead, he aims and fires again, neatly shattering another plate.]

Don't worry. I'm good at compartmentalizing.

[cons]

Are you?

[ skeptical is a strong word, but there is a lift to her voice with the question, a little bit unsure. she's finally walking back over to his side of the room, intent on taking a few more shots. maybe shortening the distance between them to make this conversation feel less subjective, more personal. but personal was a strong word too, wasn't it? when she picks a place to set herself, it ends up being about two yards away from John now. ]

This place is a nightmare. [ she's staring down the plates though, hesitating now because she's not sure if she even wants to continue on this topic. but, there it is. ] I mean, sometimes it literally is. This one time some of us got hit with this crap in the air - people were calling it fear gas. Made you see all kinds of weird shit, made you freak out an panic. It's like, the ship finds ways to take what we know and twist it all around just so we can ever seem to get a solid footing. My world sucked and all, but at least there I never felt like I didn't at least have a fighting chance. This place? [ she just shakes her head, takes another two shots. the first misses, the second hits. hn. ]

I'm not saying I don't think you can handle it, we wouldn't be here talking if I thought that, I'm just saying it to say it. [ she'll even look at him again, just for a second, chews the corner of her lip before looking at the row of plates again. ]

[learnedtosmile]

[Blake watches her, almost surprised. Not really about what she knows, or what she's saying, but why she's apparently saying it. Saying it to him.

It's like she's concerned about him.

That's a strange feeling for Blake, really. He's not used to it. Back home, in Gotham, his life is pretty carefully divided up, between the force and the kids. It's his job to protect, after all. His job to go in, possibly take the hit. He's not afraid of that.

But how does he respond to this? Friendly concern? He studies her for a moment, then glances back down at his gun, checking it even though he's already checked it.]

I know what fear gas is. [He points that out, like it makes any difference.] The guy who invented it came from my world. [Apparently, Blake is going for the 'ignore' option.]