violence is always the answer

[r3f4c70r3d]

Who: Angel (r3f4c70r3d) & Rocket (beatupgrass)

What: Guns!

When: Current date

Where: Rockets apartment

Warning(s):violence?

[ The package arrived less than a day after her request, wrapped in leather and twine and sitting neatly on the pillow of a bed that she barely slept in. There was only one person in this city Angel would trust both with the information of her gift...and with teaching her how to use it. Angel raps lightly on the door of Rockets residence, using the toe of her boot since she's clutching the bulky parcel in both arms. ]

Rocket? Are you home?

Comments

[beatupgrass]

[Since Rocket is the member of this household who isn't keeping a steady job, the knock drags him out of his latest project- a project that seems to involve some red paint judging by the splatters in his fur when he opens the door.]

Where else am I gonna be since I'm a freeloader now?

[That's not entirely true- he makes money. Just not... legally. Or in excessive amounts. He's a little grumpy about it.]

[r3f4c70r3d]

[ Angel smiles down apologetically at him when she notices the red paint. Don't worry Rocket, on Pandora most people made money by killing or grifting. Or both. And she may have been told to be judgmental of that for a long time, but she won't be.]

Apologies for interrupting. May I come in?

[ Then, peaking past him a little and into the apartment ]

There's no one else home, is there?

[beatupgrass]

Nah. Quill's flirting his way to the bank and Mantis is playing nurse. I'm just finishing up something.

[He keeps the door open as he wanders inside. The living arrangements, as pathetic as they are, seem to favor Rocket more than they do anyone else. And this isn't even all of his stuff. The workbench he's haphazardly shoved in a corner seems to be boasting a cybernetic arm that's been decked out with pale plating with a red stripe winding from the upper arm to the wrist.

His drunk notes were detailed about the dumbest things.] What's up, Angel?

[r3f4c70r3d]

[ Angel follows him inside while takin a quick look around of the apartment, searching for a good surface to place the package down on before settling on the kitchen table. (She does spy the arm in the corner though, that's looking pretty cool.)

With care, she sets the package down and begins untying the string that holds the leather around what was inside, unwrapping until she reveals the gun  it was protecting. ]

I need you to show me how to use this.

[beatupgrass]

[The second it's fully unwrapped, Rocket's eyes go wide and he moves closer, so he can put his tiny people-hands on it, without so much as asking for permission, his expression reverent. ]

A shotgun. Heh. [He can't tell the make or model- which is a damn shame- since it's not from his galaxy, but it looks like a nice piece of killware.] Most broads start small when they go for the guns, but this... This is a beauty.

[r3f4c70r3d]

[ Angel wrinkles her nose a little at being called a broad, but ultimately lets it go, gesturing to the piece in front of them instead. ]

One of Hyperions finest...

[ It would be poetic irony, to ward off Jack from one of his most beloved weapons with another, Angel figured. That, and it really was an excellent gun. ]

It seems others have begun to wake up and I want to be prepared. I figured, considering your knowledge of both weapons and my history, you would be the best choice for training me.

[beatupgrass]

[Rocket's ears lower, teeth bared just in thought of her stupid dickbag dad showing up. It's not sentimental, really (so he says)- it's just that a guy who would do that shit to his own kid is bad news.]

You came to the right place. [He leans casually against the table.] Given the people around here, you probably wouldn't have found a better teacher, especially not with a gun like this.

[Also he wants an excuse to shoot it just once.]

[r3f4c70r3d]

[ Angel nods in agreement ]

I only have so much ammunition for now, and I highly doubt the city authorities would allow us to practice freely, but there were some open areas between here and the western outpost that could serve as decent shooting ranges.

[beatupgrass]

There's apparently a shooting range here, but my weapons are way too fancy for that shit. Woods are better- and quieter.

[He scratches his next eyeing the weapon up with the same kind of scrutiny men give to curvaceous women, though with, thankfully, less of the appetite.] I probably can't do anything about the ammo right now, but I might be able to make you some blanks for target practice later.

[r3f4c70r3d]

[ She nods again as she re-wraps the shotgun, clear and determined. She doesn't know what she's going to do if or when Jack awakens but having this will at least bring her some comfort, she hopes.

Once the shotgun is all wrapped up again she gathers it back up into her arms. ]

No time like the present.

[beatupgrass]

[He waves her on ahead, so he can lock up behind her, and doesn't speak again until they're on their way and their conversation is muffled by the bustling crowd.]

So what made you get that? [He squints up at her. The Orbiters didn't leave anyone unarmed, as far as he knows, so if she didn't have a weapon to start with, she never had one or, perhaps, hadn't needed one. Which means something could have changed.]

Bein' jealous of mine is a good reason, so don't feel ashamed if that's all it is. [It's such a loaded question that being flippant is his way of softening the blow. He doesn't give everyone that kind of grace.]

[r3f4c70r3d]

[ Angel lets out an undignified snort at that, before lowering her voice to a hushed tone. Even with the crowed drowning them out, she can't risk being overheard. ]

Do you mean this model specifically, or in general?

[beatupgrass]

Both. Most people go in for the easily concealed ones first, unless they're overcompensating, like extravagance, and really, really wanna make somebody dead.

[Rocket is all three of those.]

[r3f4c70r3d]

[ Rocket was right, going for something smaller would have likely benefited her better, in a lot of ways. But Angel wanted to make a statement. Jack was never about subtle, so she wouldn't be either when it came to him. ]

That's the plan.

[ Or at least she wants it to be the plan. She flits back and forth in her fantasies where he finally wakes up, between killing him brutally on sight...and him magically becoming the she wants, the dad that he was. She knows only one of those holds even a modicum of realism. Having the gun is a statement, but it's also a reminder. ]

[beatupgrass]

[He gives her an appraising look, and then looks down the path that leads out of Olympia proper and into the untamed wilds. God he misses real cities.] It's about that scumbag dad of yours, right?

[r3f4c70r3d]

[ Angel hikes up the gun as it slips from her arms a little, to the average gun slinger the piece is probably on the light side, but still heavy for her.
She smiles wanly, but keeps looking ahead toward their destination instead of down at Rocket. If she speaks about the issue of her father casually, she won't have to start that steep downward spiral about how awful it actually is. ]

The one and only.

[beatupgrass]

Good. [He nods firmly, staring straight ahead now, clearly satisfied.] That means there's not another douchebag that needs killing around here.

[He's a simple man with simple tastes. And would prefer that, while he has to lay low, people who need to die stay away.]

[r3f4c70r3d]

I'm sure there are plenty of... people, like that around.

[ They've been walking down the path out of town for a little while now, finally near one of the clearings Angel was thinking of. ]

That area up ahead should work well.

[beatupgrass]

Eh, probably. But I gotta be discerning if I don't wanna add another prison to my list. Only the top tier assholes'll do.

[He gives the space an approving nod once he notices it.] Gotcha. Hang on.

[He runs ahead, picking out a tree at the edge of the clearing with the thickest looking trunk and starts to claw some of the bark away with his hands.] You're gonna need a target.

[r3f4c70r3d]

You would be doing a service, not a crime.

[ Angel kneels down, setting the gun on the ground and unwrapping it again before hefting it up and taking what she thinks is a good aiming position, trying to imitate what she's watched on her feed hundreds of thousands of times. ]

How's this?

[beatupgrass]

[Rocket looks back once he's gotten a good chunk of bare tree to serve as a target- ideally if she's off the mark, she'll be scraping the bark off the sides, instead of boring a hole through the middle.] Ehhh. Maybe for a dude lookin' to show off, but it ain't practical for combat.

[He runs back over to her, moving on all fours and then back onto two legs seamlessly when he arrives. Score one for cybernetics and their useful traits for speed. Once he's beside her, he adjusts the way it sets against her shoulder.] Ideally, you want it where the kickback ain't gonna dislocate anything, so you need it more here. I learned that one the hard way. I got reinforced shoulders, but that don't mean I can't throw something out.

Teaching myself how to shoot was a lot of trial and error, lemme tell you.

[r3f4c70r3d]

[ Angel lets him maneuver her into a better stance, holding it once he's done and planting her feet as firmly into the ground as she can before squinting down the sight at the target on the tree. ]

It is a good thing I have you, then.

Ready.

[beatupgrass]

All right. Ready... Aim... [He takes a step back so he doesn't get knocked in the face by the kickback himself.] Fire.

[r3f4c70r3d]

[ Angel aims squinting down the sight and measuring her breathing to steady her shot before finally pulling the trigger and...

The kickback hits her like an oncoming train, butt of the gun slamming into her shoulder and for as hard as her feet were planted into the ground it makes no difference and she goes toppling back.

There's good news though: she didn't totally miss the mark. It isn't dead center but there is a smoking hole in the debarked wood.

From the ground, Angel sits up ]

Ow...

[beatupgrass]

[Rocket waits until she sits up to start laughing. That as close as friendship gets you to a not-dickish response.] Oh maaan. Yeah, that's gonna happen for awhile, 'til you learn to brace yourself, but, hey! Nice aim, at least.

[Look! There's even a compliment as he... continues to snicker about her landing on her ass.]

[r3f4c70r3d]

[ Honestly, Angel isn't all that upset at his laughing at her, no doubt her getting knocked back looked pretty comical. And (luckily) it's not like she's hurt beyond a couple bruises.

She shakes her head a few times, trying to dislodge the loud ringing sound before looking up at her handiwork and smiling triumphantly. ]

Thanks!