☠ 049

[molotov]

[Cross leaving was a blow that Molotov really hadn't anticipated, as foolish as it was to forget the castle's whims, and she's spent the past few weeks in a bad place. Well, bed isn't such a bad place, but it is when you're there sleeping and drinking off a depression. She's managed to slowly begin incorporating herself around the population of the castle, for small periods of time, but today is the first day that she's managed to actually stay out and function like a human being.

As long as that means being buzzed and shooting targets at the gun range. Where she can be found, basically all day.]


[filtered to Ezio]
Come to the shooting range. Bring your gun.

Comments

[nihilo]

Will there be a bet involved?

[molotov]

What?

[nihilo]

I prefer gallery rifle, myself.

[molotov]

I do not even know who you are.

[nihilo]

Is that necessary?

[molotov]

[She sighs. She's too intoxicated and tired for this.] What do you want? Either shoot your gun or leave.

[nihilo]

[ She does eventually wander over to check out the guns. ]

Isn't it terribly boring to shoot guns at a dead board? I only wanted to make it more exciting by adding in a prize.

[molotov]

It isn't boring. It is practice. Besides, I do not have anything to bet.

[nihilo]

[ She picks a double-barreled shotgun. ]

What are you practicing for?

[molotov]

Fun.

[nihilo]

[ Alice shrugs and takes the stall beside her. ]

Good enough.

[molotov]

[And with that, Molotov starts firing again.]

[samson]

[Brock obviously doesn't go to the shooting range, like, ever. He has a little target set up by the cabin for throwing knives or shuriken or whatever, so he doesn't need to come here, even for the things available for non-guns.

But Molotov has been out all day, something that's pretty unusual, since for the past few weeks, she'd always wandered back to bed after a few hours. And Brock, being the doting sort of guy he is, wants to make sure she's alright.

He's kind of relieved she's here.] Hey.

[nihilo]

[ Alice doesn't, yet, leaning on a post to watch her hit the targets instead. ]

[molotov]

[Molotov pauses when Brock speaks, looking over at him and then taking a swig from a... bottle of vodka she has at her feet.]

Hi.

[molotov]

[Molotov is destroying her target, her jaw set even though her focus is a little off from being watched.]

[samson]

[U h h h...]

Should you be drinking while you're doing that.

[molotov]

's fine.

[samson]

But you're slurring ...

[Slurring people shouldn't be handling guns ...]

[nihilo]

[ She chuckles a little, which might be drowned out by the shots, and weighs the shotgun before taking aim. One shot, barely off the bull's eye. ]

[molotov]

[Molotov, intoxicated and testy, watches the other shot, then shifts slightly and hits the bullseye of Alice's target.]

[molotov]

No'm not.

[nihilo]

[ Alice will never admit to jumping out of her skin at that sudden shot, snapping her gaze at the woman. She's angry first, before turning amused. ]

I was wondering if you could even aim.

[samson]

That. [POINTS.] That's called slurring.

[molotov]

It's not slurring.