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inbox @ comesailaway
( shiptalk | direct messages | group messages | action )
( shiptalk | direct messages | group messages | action )
( shiptalk | direct messages | group messages | action )
( shiptalk | direct messages | group messages | action )
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I didn't ask for one either. But it doesn't feel like we can turn our noses up at more bullets, so, yes. Let's absolutely shoot at something.
You busy tonight?
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Let's shoot at something.
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Sounds good. Pencil me in if you can, and meet me on deck. The aft.
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[And he will be there, wearing a blanker expression than usual because he's that stressed out.]
( OOC: we can thread it out/handwave/whatever works for you, I just thought it'll be fun )
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You look thrilled.
( clarke still has absolutely no capacity for levity while aboard this ship, but there's something... almost nostalgic about shooting lessons. she'd never been on the side of the educator, and doesn't know how useful she'll end up being for natsuno. but the more their deep dives into the mystery of this cruise liner cross over, the more she likes not being alone with all her worst thoughts. maybe it's too early in this camaraderie to start throwing around words like loyalty and friendly — but if they ever found themselves in a situation where they had to shoot their way out, she'd like for him to be prepared.
and survive. he doesn't deserve to die twice.
and thus he's greeted with the closest thing clarke has to a smile. it's sort of a tight press of the lips until her skin blanches white, and a nod. she's at the railing curving along the back side of the ship, and had been watching the rippling wake of the serena eterna as they cut through league after league of ocean — without ever really seeming to go anywhere. but he's here, time to get down to business. )
Can I see your gun?
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I brought the bullets too. I don't think it's loaded.
[But he hands the handgun over carefully, barrel pointed away from them, not touching the trigger. It's a Glock 19, unloaded indeed.]
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and it's a glock, so it's familiar in clarke's hand. her own is a 22, just a fraction of an inch bigger and fires larger bullets. she can tell just from the weight that it's unloaded, but pulls back the slide just to be sure, then discharges the magazine and holds her hand out for the bullets. )
This — ( pointing to the series of numbered dots along the back of the magazine ) — is your round capacity. So this thing holds 15 bullets, plus one in the chamber. The number at the top is the ammo type you'll need, it won't fit just any kind of bullet. If you're really expecting to have to shoot your way out of a situation, it pays to have a second magazine loaded and ready to go in your pocket.
( if he obligingly hands over those 9mm's, she'll go a step further and show him how the bullets get pushed in the top of the magazine like a reverse pez dispenser. clarke will do about three or four, before handing bullets and magazine back to him. )
Here, you finish it.
( then onto the frame, pointing as she goes. ) This one has a trigger safety, so this little pin here has to be fully depressed before you can pull the trigger back at all. These are also pretty reliable not to fire if you drop them, but just... try not to drop it. You can never be sure.
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He readily hands over the bullets - she's the expert here, after all - and loads the rest of the bullets into the magazine. Not exactly like carving stakes with his father's tools or stealing a bunch of dynamite.]
And here I thought to try juggling with it. [...] Understood. And then... it goes here?
[He slides the loaded magazine into the magwell.]
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she watches him slip the magazine into place, and gives a nod. ) Yeah, now pull the slide back to chamber a round.
( this is the point in which clarke will reach behind her back and pull her own gun out of the waistband of horrendously floral ship-brand boat shorts, and racks the slide in time with him. there's something oddly satisfying about the slnilk - click sounds. )
It's really not hard. Point and pull, like you said. But there's recoil, and the first time is always a bit of a ( rush ) surprise. Let's get you used to that and then we can work on aiming.
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There's recoil alright, but what startles Natsuno the most is the noise.]
...it's loud.
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It is. There are silencers that attach to the barrel, but even those don't muffle the sound completely. Guns are very effective weapons, but you do have to accept that you'll almost always call attention to yourself by using them.
You did good with the kickback, though. Don't lock your elbows, but yeah — keep your arms straight. Don't hold it too high that the slide comes back and cuts your hand, that's a slow wound to heal. Want to try again? Try two or three in a row.
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If I ever have to use it, it's a given that I'm not trying to be stealthy.
[Right, loosen the elbows a little and watch for the slide. He'd need to be extra careful with gun safety if he doesn't want to explain how his injuries disappeared. Natsuno adjusts the hold and fires three more shots. His eyes wince at every crack, but he doesn't recoil this time.]
What if I'm inside the ship? Bullets can pass through walls, or ricochet.
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( this would almost be teasing, if not for the absolutely dire circumstances they've somehow managed to land in. clarke takes her turn shooting into the pitchblack water past the aft of the ship now, three rapid succession shots that might have all hit a target dead center if she'd had one in mind. the scent of burnt gun powder mixed with the salty spray of the placid ocean is a new experience, a thorough reminder of how far from home she is.
in a tone wrought with homesickness and nostalgia, but prying for deeper secrets about her ally: )
I don't think I asked yet... Have you ever killed someone?
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[Iwao Maeda, knocked out and thrown outside for the sun to do the rest. Tatsumi, killed in the same explosion that took Natsuno's life. And dozens of other shiki who were slaughtered because he helped the village doctor escape their influence and expose them for what they were. Their blood is on his hands.
He doesn't regret it. They all got what they deserved, himself included.]
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( a small sound of acknowledgement, devoid of any judgement. it's good to know, really — death looked the same after a while, no matter the instrument used to exact it, so this at least spares them the conversation about what it's like that first time. they've both already lived it.
but, she'd made a promise and here, out in the night air with a weapon heavy in hand, feels an appropriate time to follow through on it. )
Wanheda means Commander Of Death.
( a brush of her thumb along the backing of the slide, for emphasis. )
Sometimes like this, but not always.
( and if clarke looks a little dark-green around the gills for divulging that, it's because she hates the means, action of, and end result of earning that title. she regrets all of it, but if faced with those options again, would probably pull the same levers and triggers to get to where she has. )
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...the people who took yours hostage.
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( and if it wasn't abundantly clear how deep her well of shame ran in regard to those hard decisions and the blood left on her hands after they were made, clarke is very pointedly not looking anywhere close to natsuno. doesn't want to watch anyone else's face go from friendly to disgusted or scared at the sight of her. desperately wants to be understood, but doesn't want to push the topic.
clarke makes a heavy, wet sniff. )
I didn't want that reputation, but once I had it, I used it. ( with varying degrees of success, the most recent failure being brushed off by their most recent captor. )
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Better than running away from it.
[He looks back at the dark ocean, silent for a few moments.]
I knew people I cared about would get hurt because of my actions. [His father, losing his only son for the second time. Kaori, forced to kill her own father. Tohru, dead for good.] I did it anyway.
[Three more shots.]
Everyone makes choices. All we can do is stand behind ours.
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but at the same time, absolution has a certain draw to it. not that forgiveness from anyone other than herself would ever truly stick, and clarke is never going to give that to herself. it would cheapen the suffering she'd caused, and the dead deserved their pound of flesh.
for now, she'll take his response as a thin strand of empathy, and use it to strengthen her resolve that — yup. it was time to knuckle down and repeat hard choices and bloody choices all over again, as their situation would come to demand. )
Given the option, would you make those same choices over again?
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[Given the option, he'd avoid the situation that forced these choices in the first place - but that wasn't up to him.
The way Natsuno sees it, he made the choices he made because of the person he is. So he would do it again.]
Does it matter, though? No one gets a do-over. No guarantees the alternative would be better. We make our choices and live with them.
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( teleport her through time and space right back to the moment she burnt an entire army alive, or irradiated an entire population? no, clarke would not do a single thing differently. but those bloody moments had earned her the title of wanheda and sometimes she has to wonder — )
I get caught up, though. On wondering if I hadn't made those first few difficult decisions, maybe none of the rest of them would have happened. Or that maybe they could have been someone else's calls to make.
( she'd been holding her own gun at her side, running her thumb along the back of the slide in some unconscious attempt to ground herself in this reality, and not go spiraling into age old what if's and what could have been's. for a break from conversation, she levels her weapon out beyond the guard rail and fires three more times to match his cluster. the need to do something, to act out, to fight a little here — is overwhelming, but clarke comes back from it feeling none the more confident.
but maybe a tad more centered. )
Then the next one pops up, and it's just easier if I make the call. And I'm reminded, every time, that I'd do it willingly — over and over again — so long as it meant the people I cared about wouldn't have to bear that responsibility.
( the weight of it, it's soul crushing. )
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[His choices were more selfish. Death was the only option and he never let himself think of the what if's.]
I couldn't bear the responsibility, at first, but couldn't let anyone else do it either. [If you can't become a hunter, you'll have ti become a victim.] It only made things worse.
So I don't think it's as bad as you're making it sound. Making the call so they wouldn't... I think it's brave.
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likewise, if you can't kill you get killed. if you can't be the person driving the tank, you end up a body in the mound along the side of the road. dog eat dog, morals shift, atrocities happen — yet life goes on. until one day it just suddenly stops. )
I don't think it can be called bravery when it's a necessity and you hate ( yourself for ) it.
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[He sighs.]
Maybe it doesn't matter how you call it. [Arguing about semantics is hardly the point, after all, and Natsuno can't presume to know everything she's been through.] But... do you really have to carry that alone?
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The people who'd carry it with me are the ones I want to protect from it the most.
( none of us is innocent, maya had breathed out as she died. and that may be true, but not everyone needed to suffer guilt on top of their grief. this was leadership, shouldering the load and never putting it down. this is... not what she'd signed up for, but the role she'd willingly stepped into when they'd been left without any other options. )
I don't always get my way with that, but. I do what I can for them.
( read: i'd do literally anything for them. )
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