(open) DID THEY SEND ME DAUGHTERS...

[chittybang]

Date & Time: January 6th through January 11th
Location: Training Room
Characters: Asami Sato, open
Summary: Asami doesn't have a vehicle readily available, so the next best thing for stress relief is her routinely visit to the training room.
Warnings: Violence

This had been an eventful week. Wanda was the first person she'd developed a relationship with who disappeared without a trace, and furthermore she was almost certain Yuna had gone as well. Maybe Asami was supposed to be filled with a little extra hope knowing that the Transports really did serve their time and didn't have to stay forever, but instead she felt a surreal emptiness. Almost everything about the Initiates felt so arbitrary, and she was finished with uncertainty. But while new friends were leaving, old friends were coming in; Mako was among the fresh leak of Transports transferring in, and that left a mess in her chest all on its own.

Thankfully she had her routine. Training was her time to ease out frustration and confusion, because she was determined not to let anything get to her otherwise. Exertion was too gratifying to let her home life or her romantic life interrupt her wellbeing. The more she accomplished on her own, the more likely she could look upon her friends with easy eyes and still feel a sense of gain, not one of loss. It was even more important to prove her worth to her father should he ever arrive.

Asami was especially diligent throughout the week in the face of an old problem. She trained by herself when she wasn't training with other people. Her currently fried hair, which was undergoing treatments with conditioners after a recent mishap, was pulled out of her face and loosely braided throughout the week to disguise the texture; and while she might've been serious about improving, she was never one to skip out on accessorizing. Flair made her feel a little more like herself, others' doubtful impressions be damned.

(ooc: Hey everyone! I'm actually pretty sick tonight, so my tags might be coming in slowly at first. Thanks for understanding! )

Comments

[chargethesebatteries]

Tamora shared Asami's affinity for using training as a method to unwind, and having an apt pupil certainly helped. She was quickly discovering that while Rinoa was a bit hesitant and didn't always have confidence in herself, she definitely had a lot more potential than she seemed to think.

Today Tamora decided that Rinoa had shown enough promise to get a lesson in marksmanship. Er, well... with a gun, versus her Blaster Edge. Admittedly, Tamora was fairly impressed with the weapon, which wasn't unlike a crossbow. She had to figure it definitely took some skill, and Rinoa was quite adept with it.

"So the first thing you need to know, really, is the anatomy of the handgun," she said, seated at a wide table in the corner of the training room with her police-issue pistol in front of her. She had removed the magazine and put it in her pocket, just to make certain there were no accidents. "You seem to have at least a basic grasp of firearms--you mentioned having worked with a sharpshooter, right?" She offered Rinoa the butt of the gun. "Name as many parts as you can."

She wasn't expecting her to know the intricate details, but there was really no sense repeating what she already knew. Efficiency was key. Once Rinoa knew the breakdown they would head over to the firing range to see how she fared, but this understanding was paramount.

[unlikelyrebel]

Rinoa was so used to comparing herself to well trained professionals that she just tended to disbelieve in her own abilities out of habit. She's not a soldier, she's just a girl who's had to learn how to fight on the battlefield, in her mind that left a lot to be desired. So what if it wasn't necessarily true?

There's no denying that training with Tamora was good for her. She still wasn't completely confident in her abilities, but it was helping. Not to mention she hadn't even begun training with her actual Initiative enhanced weapon yet so there was a long way to go.

Leaning over the table, she stared at the pistol intently for a moment while listening to 'her Sergeant's' instructions. What she actually knew and the amount of parts the gun really had were another matter, but she would at least try. "That's right. He's a total flirt and kind of a brag, but he's a good friend." She fell silent for a moment before accepting the gun that was handed to er.

"Let's see." Carefully she turned the pistol over in her hands before she started to slowly point out the parts as she got to them. "Muzzle, barrel, trigger, hammer." Sure it wasn't like Irvine's shotguns or rifle, but the parts had to be close to the same didn't they? Which lead her to one question about the grip of the gun. "This is where the stock would be on a shotgun or a rifle, what's it called on a pistol?"

[chittybang]

The punching bag kept Asami busy for so long. The one she'd been working with was packed with dents and scuff marks, and lotion wasn't working on her knuckles the way they used to, even with the tape. She was fixing her braid during a break and let her eyes wander for ideas of something else to work with, when eventually her glance fell upon two girls working with a gun in the distance.

She wasn't familiar with guns before arriving to Exsilium, but she'd seen them around and became interested. Her hesitance came with the lethal damage they were obviously capable of dealing, but she convinced herself that the lure had to do with the technology. Although she couldn't hear a word of what they were saying, she could tell they were working slowly, so perhaps it seemed like an opportune moment to approach.

So she did, wiping her cheeks with a towel and sipping a bottle of water on her way. Her eyes fell on the gun before she made out their faces. She smiled at them as she began to introduce herself.

"Hey! Sorry if I'm interrupting, I just couldn't help but notice you guys were working with a gun. Is it okay if I sit in on this?"

[chargethesebatteries]

Tamora snorted a laugh at Rinoa's assessment of her gun-toting comrade. "Sounds like a couple of the guys I work with back home," she said. They were all a bunch of mutton-heads, but they were good guys and they all watched each other's backs, and that was what mattered.

Watching as Rinoa correctly identified the main components of the handgun, she reached for the handgun and ejected the empty magazine.

"The bullets for a handgun are kept in a magazine that locks into the grip here," she said, flipping the cartridge in her hand and then extending it to Rinoa so she could look at it. "So it's definitely a bit of a different setup than a rifle--there's no stock to brace, you just have to compensate for the recoil with your hands." She wagged a finger. "Luckily the kickback on a handgun is significantly less violent than a rifle, in most cases, so it's nothing to be too concerned about."

She paused and looked up when a shadow crossed the table. Another girl stood there, her long dark hair pulled back in a braid and tape wrapped around her hands. She glanced at Rinoa, then figured her pupil was much more of a people-person than she was and likely wouldn't mind the company. Tamora was always prepared to discuss firearms with another interested soul.

"Sure, grab a seat," she said, gesturing at all the open space left at the table. Then she stuck her hand out to make an introduction. "Sergeant Tamora Calhoun, Space Marine Corps and Exsilium Police Force," she said, and then nodded toward Rinoa. "Just giving Miss Heartilly here a quick n' dirty Firearms 101--you an enthusiast too?"