paradisa | ♫24

Entry tags:

grencia mars elijah guo eckener

♫24

[Going to the gun range is always a decent way to kill time and clear his head from time to time, and even occasionally blow off steam. Thankfully, that didn't happen too much, but even the even-tempered Gren needed to shoot something now and then.

Today his aim is just recreation, but minutes after arriving, he realizes something is very very wrong. What normally feels almost as natural as breathing becomes an actual struggle. He can't keep hold of the gun at all. The trigger seems to twitch of his grip every time he tries to squeeze it, and when he even manages that, he can only fire wildly off course where his arm used to be deadly accurate.]

What is going on?

[He sets the gun down with a heavy thud, not realizing his journal had fallen open at his feet, as he presses a hand to his face in actual frustration]

-----

[written and filtered to anyone who has gained a second loss or had a loss change]

[Later, once he turns back to his apartment in town, he opens the journal and hesitantly writes a message]

To anyone that has ever gotten a different loss, what prompted the change for you? How did you know anything was different?

Because I think I might have a second one, but I'm not sure why. Got knocked out for a few weeks, but I didn't die. Not sure if the castle would punish me for something it made happen in the first place.

I just need to make sense of this.

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Yeah. I got my second one during that period where wishes were buggering up. The price of overindulgence, I suppose. Anyway, no unconsciousness for me on that one. Just something that happened.

Best not try to overthink the castle too much, there lies only pain and suffering.

[Well, none of that sounded good. Which, given everything that'd happened around the castle lately was perhaps not a surprise]

Problems?

[It's sort of a rhetorical question, though, as he's already heading in Gren's direction]

As if the loss wasn't enough. How many pieces will it take away until I'm no longer me?

So it isn't just dying here that will do that. [Great]

As many as it pleases, by the looks.

Nope, anything can set it off, really. We're all slaves to the castle's whims, when you think about it.

Not really the news I wanted, but thanks for being honest

[Hearing this voice elicits both a feeling of relief and a twist of anxiety. He doesn't want Vicious to see him vulnerable again, but naturally it would only be him that would care...in his way.]

You could say that. [There's a twist of anxiety there that hasn't been there for awhile]

I died and my old loss stopped being a loss anymore. Pretty good indicator.

No point in lying about it.

You can show me in person.

[Because it will only take him a minute to get there]

[He remembers Brock mentioning this, and he feels bad for the deception here, but he's not sure he wants this information getting out if Spike can somehow see this]

Was it something that was immediately obvious or did you have to test it to find out?

Some people might be afraid to share that kind of information

Fine. [And that's maybe a bit more terse that is normal for him]

Don't be long. I'm not sure I want to hang around here much longer.

The more you try to keep something to yourself, the more likely the castle is to bring it out to the public, I've found. Often in the worst way possible.

[The terseness doesn't bother Vicious much, since it's pretty much his way of life. He doesn't bother responding, but shows up a few minutes later looking about as grim as usual]

What's all of this about?

[Because he's really not sure, though it doesn't seem good, regardless.]

[Gren takes Vicious' expression in stride, of course, but he does look a bit more frazzled than he has in awhile]

I can't shoot, Vicious. It's like there's something fighting me every time I try.

[Maybe it's just a jab at the anonymity, but it hits home in other places without Crowley realizing he's done it. Maybe.]

Maybe. I might just have to take my chances.

Besides, you don't tell everybody all your secrets, do you?

And it's not the gun?

[He trusted Gren to know a misbehaving firearm when he held it, but it still bore asking]

[He doesn't, probably, anyway.]

If course not. But I like living life on the edge.

[Brock is actually pretty blasé about it, so it wouldn't really bother him if he knew.]

Well, my old loss was an object -- a weapon. When I came back from the dead, I had the weapon again.

I guess that's kind of a giveaway. Do you think your new loss or your old loss is worse?

Good luck with that.

[He'd had time to go get another gun to check this theory out while Vicious made his way there, so he picks it up - this one a rifle - and turns towards the range with a frown]

No. Unless every gun in range plus my own has gone insane. Watch.

[He sights down on the target, which is fairly close considering he's still on the pistol range, and fires.

Nothing happens.]

Don't need any, but thanks.

[He narrows his eyes at the weapon, as if he doesn't trust it]

There's one way to rule out that possibility.

[And then he holds out a hand expectantly]

I dunno. Losing the weapon sucked, but this new one is just kind of annoying. [He could also be downplaying just how annoying it is, because that's how Brock is, but what can you do.]

[Gren doesn't even say anything, although he wants to. He just hands the gun to Vicious, grip first, and wonders whether he hopes more that it works, or that it doesn't]

[He takes the weapon and glances at it for a moment before adjusting his grip and firing off several shots which land perfectly on target]

It seems we have a problem.

[For some reason, the implication that's it's both of their problems makes his stomach give a little leap]

And what can we do about it?

There's no winning, is there?

[Vicious' reasons for including himself in the equation might not have impressed Gren much, given how utterly practical those concerns were, but perhaps the motivation behind it wasn't what mattered]

You'll need some other way of defending yourself.

I haven't had much success with my fists. [Granted, his usual opponent was Spike, who outclassed a lot of people in that regard.]

That's hardly the only option available.

[And even he preferred not to try it with Spike, when he could avoid it.]

What do you suggest? [His tone carries the unmistakable note of frustration. It's not that he doesn't believe Vicious might have a solution, but that this was yet another thing he had to offer taken away from him. It makes him feel a little bit petulant]

[Vicious chooses to ignore the tone in favor of reaching up one sleeve and drawing out a slender throwing knife]

It takes practice.

[More so than firing a gun, certainly.]

In Paradisa? Hell no.

[Gren blinked and touched the flat of the blade with his fingers]

You'd teach me?

You need to be able to defend yourself.

[For a multitude of reasons]

[Gren realizes this is a practical matter from Vicious' point of view. An ally that couldn't help to fight at your side when it was needed wasn't much an asset. The soldier that's in him knows this. The part that's more than that to Vicious is secretly touched.]

Okay. I'm not sure I have your skill for it, but it's better than nothing.

It takes some practice.

[He holds out the knife, offering it over, handle first]

But if you get close enough, it doesn't even take that.

[Not with a blade this sharp]

[He lets out a breath and takes the knife carefully. For a moment, his expression is recalls a similar moment years ago, when Vicious handed him a music box. And just like last time, because he knows his comrade doesn't care to hear it, he doesn't offer any verbal gratitude. Actions were almost always better]

Where do we start?

Watch.

[He bends to retrieve another knife, this time from one boot, before standing again. He's had enough practice that he usually doesn't bother with perfect technique--especially given it's general lack of usefulness in a real fight--but for Gren, he takes care to deliberately show his grip and his stance before he throws the weapon at one of the targets on the range.]

The only way to learn is by doing.

[Of course, he doesn't expect Gren to be able to copy him after one observation, so he's ready to correct his grip and stance as need be.]

[Gren watches Vicious carefully, just like he used to do back on Titan. Following his lead was more often than not the way to stay alive. It would have been foolish not to copy his example, just as it was now.

He does his best to mimic the grip and footing, sizes up the target a bit uncertainly, and throws. The knife flies well, but hits long-ways near the edge of circle. He cursed softly under his breath.]

Harder than it looks.

As I said, it takes practice.

[He walks out to the target and collects the knives, handing them back to Gren when he returns.]

Keep these.

[Gren took the knives, deigning not to ask whether or not Vicious had enough for himself. Weapons were hard to come by in Paradisa, which made him more, rather than less, grateful.]

I suppose you can take my gun in return, since I won't be getting much use of it now.

You shouldn't advertise that fact.

[But it's a fair trade, and while a gun that cannot be used still has a certain intimidation factor, he's well aware that it's not something terribly necessary here. There wasn't much threat of violence beyond certain known quantities.]

I won't. [Especially from the one person who was the most likely to exploit it]

[He curled his fingers around the handle of the weapons, careful of the sharp edges]

I'll a place to keep these.

[He nods slightly]

We can find someplace less public to practice later on.

[Maybe he's a little paranoid, but it's not like you need a whole formal range to learn these particular skills, either. And there was plenty of woods around]

Good idea. I'll see if there's somewhere near my place we can use.

[Not that he sounds all that cheerful about it at the moment. The whole thing still stings, and he kind of wants a drink.]

I'm sure we'll be able to find something suitable.

[And this was about where most people would offer some sort of comfort, but Vicious wasn't the type, and frankly, didn't even have the skill for it.]

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