Janie's got a gun~~~

[chargethesebatteries]

Date & Time: Sunday, 28April, buttass o'clock in the morning.
Location: Riku's apartment > Practice Range
Characters: Riku (limitstorm) and Sergeant Calhoun (chargethesebatteries)
Summary: Riku wants to learn how to shoot. Tamora decides to see if he's worthy of being her pupil.
Warnings: Probably nothing. Maybe Riku shooting dislocating his shoulder due to rifle kickback.


As far as Tamora was concerned, kids these days were way too worried about how they were perceived by others. Riku had asked her on more than one occasion if she would teach him how to shoot, and she had agreed every time, figuring the kid had more than proven himself capable of handling training with a dangerous weapon. But each time she had tried to take him aside to do so he had shied away, complaining that there were other people around the training facility and he didn't want anyone to see him. No matter how many times she assured him that nobody was even going to be watching, no matter how many times she told him that even she'd stunk the first time she'd fired a rifle, he wouldn't relent. It seemed he was adamant to learn to shoot, but just as adamant he learn when no one could see him learning.

Which was why Tamora had risen at 3:30am on a Sunday and had every intention of dragging his scrawny teenaged butt to the training facility to show him how to fire a rifle before anyone else could show up and remind him that he was apparently a very sensitive and self-conscious flower. Dressed in civvies and with her pistol at her hip and her rifle over her shoulder, she strode down the hall to Riku's apartment, lifting a hand and rapping sharply on the door.

If his roommates got upset about being woken up so early, well... she was armed. She figured they would probably get over it pretty quick.

Comments

[limitstorm]

Riku didn't have nightmares as often; every time he did, however, he found himself doing the same thing John had, except he was alone. Usually, the army doctor would steal up here or they'd go downstairs into the small kitchen and they could talk--about nothing, about everything, about one little insignificant detail in particular, and everything would just wash away. Sometimes, about each other's respective nightmares. John had learned a lot about Riku's world that way. Ever since he'd disappeared back to his home world, however, Riku had been hesitant to open up to anyone in that same way.

He just hung out in his living room and had tea to himself and reminisced, nowadays. It was important to keep the ones you loved alive in your memories. Sometimes he'd silently work on bits of magic to keep himself awake, to not fall asleep again. He was starting to get better at demonstrative magic... maybe one day, he'd be able to piece together a model of Destiny Islands out of air and light. Sometimes he'd imagine John's world. Ranka's. Rika's.

His head jerked up from constructing small steps to what he tried to imagine Hero Knight's world looked like as he heard a sharp knock to the door, and stood, bundled up in sheets, peeking open through the door. And, upon seeing familiar blond hair, he opened the door fully. He still had quite a bedhead on him, but he was clothed... and slightly hunched. "Sergeant?"

[chargethesebatteries]

She hadn't expected him to answer so quickly, least of all wrapped in a sheet. She knew that haunted look in his eyes, though; she was no stranger to nightmares herself. She also knew better than to bring that up, and so instead she just went with her original plan and pulled her tablet from her jacket pocket. Pressing a button on the screen, she held it out toward Riku as it played a recording of reveille.

"Up and at 'em, cadet," she said with a little less volume than she'd initially planned to. "You didn't want anybody to see you practicing, so we're hitting the training facility in T-minus ten minutes. Nobody's gonna be there at oh-dark-hundred, so go get your butt in gear."

[limitstorm]

He looked shocked by the recording playing, like the notes shook him out of his almost-sleep. With a groan, he stepped back and narrowed his eyes, before they softened. In this case, he had no one else to blame but himself. Served him right for being so self-conscious, if he really wanted to learn how to shoot. He gave a sigh and bowed his head for a brief moment. "Right, right," he muttered, and glanced over his shoulder. There were a few mugs of tea that'd been drained right beside the couch; he ditched the sheets.

"I'll be... right there?" Or did she want to come in to drag him off?