[ action - the quad ]

[dumpsterdives.livejournal.com]

[ She's supposed to be in class.




Oops.

Oh well!

Instead, Kiden can be found the quad, enjoying the sun--yes, she actually does enjoy nice days!--and people watching. It's obvious by the constant twitching of her fingers that she's either bored or itching to be somewhere else.

She actually doesn't have a cigarette; instead, she has a large notepad open in her lap, but only half her attention is on it. In it are her WTR101 notes; it's the only class she won't skip and probably the only one she really cares about. Outlined inside are the properties of a variety of weapons, as well as sketches; they're not very good, having been made quickly, but they're clean...and noticeable.

Come bother her, she'll be grateful insult you, probably. Or find her later, if you're the instructors whose class she's skipping.... ]

Comments

[dumpsterdives.livejournal.com]

[














what

just

what ]

I'm real happy for you, Juliet. You seem to find this stuff pretty inspirational.

[redcinemareel]

I do~! [Grins] Now, what shall you look at today?

[dumpsterdives.livejournal.com]

Handguns, I guess...? I don't really know what I'm looking at.

[ They've looked at projectile weapons and firearms in WTR 101, but that's a general class. Seeing all of them lined up, polished charcoal-black, makes them look indentical. ]

[redcinemareel]

They all look so similar. [Hums softly, looking over to Kiden.] Something you can hide on your person may be best?

[dumpsterdives.livejournal.com]

Something small, huh?

[ Kiden picks up a Desert Eagle. This is the one in all those movies, right?




HOLY FUCK ]

Jesus, this thing weighs like a ton!

[ Lmao Kiden this is GUNS not teddy bears you can't just PICK ANY ONE. Putting that back!!! She turns to Grell for help. ]

I have no idea what I'm doing.

[redcinemareel]

So WHY are you touching things? [Takes the gun with ease. Gosh, it's not that heavy! Grell just...tosses it aside. The shop keeper says nothing. They know better.]

Try this one. [The gun isn't very small, but most of the guns here wouldn't get much smaller unless they traveled to a different town.

[dumpsterdives.livejournal.com]

Ooooh, a pistol.

[ Kiden nabs it, testing the feel of it in her hands. ] Kinda cowboyish, don't you think?

[redcinemareel]

At least there is some sort of familiarity? You can always get it custom designed.

[dumpsterdives.livejournal.com]

[ Kiden looks over at Grell, startled. ]

Wait a sec--I thought we were here for you. I'm not even done with weapons training, I'm not gonna just buy a pistol for shits and giggles!

[redcinemareel]

Hmm? Why not? [Because clearly, Grell saw no reason not to buy a weapon, no matter how crude it is.] You should actually get a weapon so you can practice with it in and out of class.

I already know what I want. [She saunters over to an area not so far away and picks up a small dagger. She walks back, twirling it between her fingers with a grin.] This precious gem caught my eye when we walked in earlier~.

[dumpsterdives.livejournal.com]

Because I don't even know where to start. I don't even know if I want to use a gun long-term. They're teaching us about fucking poleaxes.

[ She watches as Grell gets what she came for, and blinks. ] Is that a throwing knife? How many weapons do you know how to use?

[redcinemareel]

I didn't realize we were in a place resembling Valhalla. [Shakes her head] There's nothing wrong with more than one option.

I'm not sure what kind of knife it is, but it will serve it's purpose. [As long as it cuts people, she doesn't care.] Bladed weapons, dear. [Even her chain whip has a bladed end. She'll work on making it poisonous later.] I LIVE on the edge. [Snickers at her bad joke.] I also have a DEATHSCYTHE.

[dumpsterdives.livejournal.com]

Maybe they want us to be prepared for vikings. You never know.

[ You really didn't, in a place like Garden. ]

You know, before coming here I always thought guns would come out on top in a fight. It's pretty much all we use, back home. I mean--people who aren't superheroes or mutants.

[ But coming here, and meeting not just Grell but others, like Snow, who seemed content and confident in taking on machine guns with sowrds and fists, she's beginning to realizes there's more to it than firepower. ]

[redcinemareel]

Guns are the least of your worries. [Raises an eyebrow.] Mutants?

[dumpsterdives.livejournal.com]

You know, mutants. [ A noncommital shrug. ] People with like, eye lasers and shit.

[redcinemareel]

I don't follow, Kiden. Are they mechanical beings?

[dumpsterdives.livejournal.com]

No, just freaks. [ There's a note of hardness in her voice. ] People whose genes are fucked up. They have something--the x-gene--that...manifests in weird ways, I guess.

[redcinemareel]

[Notes the harshness of that word, but doesn't point it out.]

Getting down to genetics? No different than usual, except now proven with science. Just GRAND. [Now Grell gives her own shrug.] People fear what they cannot control. Meaning, it shouldn't be controlled, perhaps?

[She waves her hand dismissively.]

Such a derailment from our current venture is just a waste. [GRINS] In such a place, no less~.

[dumpsterdives.livejournal.com]

[ To control, or not to control mutant populations. It's a hot-button issue and Kiden, as one of the world's last remaining mutants and a member of the capekillers' hit list, it incredibly aware of it. Grell has a very strong point, though. Too much talk about strange powers and they might not get to come back here.

Kiden turns her attention back to the rack. She narrows her eyes, recalling the last time she had a gun in her hands. She'd stuffed it into a man's mouth to get some information out of him. She remembered that moment, the feel of the metal in her hands, the power of it, how she could so easily dominate a man a hundred and fifty pounds larger than her.

She puts the pistol back, and her fingers trace lightly over the grips. She searches, searches, until she finds it. A single-action, 9 mm semi-automatic handgun. Simple, efficient design, one she knew well. Her daddy had used something like this, on the job. He'd been gunned down with something like this, too.

It would do. ]

I'll take this one. Let's get out of here.

[redcinemareel]

[Grell watches her, curious. Although she could care less about such weapons, she does wonder what made Kiden chose that particular one. An inquiry for the return home.

The reaper strides to the counter, giving the clerk her choice and paying for it. She also picked out a thigh band to keep the dagger on her person. Oh yes. It will never leave her body. While Kiden is paying for her wares, Grell will marvel at how the metal brushes against her skin.]

PERFECT.

...'single' should have been 'double', wow I am tired /)_(\

[dumpsterdives.livejournal.com]

[ Kiden is...not used to paying for things, haha! She'll probably pickpocket some sucker(s) once she's no longer in good company. For now, she blows a chunk of the allowance she's saved up thanks to her five-finger discounts and hurries out after Grell. ]

I take it you're not having buyer's remorse?

I...did not notice!

[redcinemareel]

Fates, no! Although I do wish I bought another. Perhaps next time.

[Glances over to Kiden.]

Any particular reason for your selection?

[dumpsterdives.livejournal.com]

[ She looks down at the package in her arms--the gun had come with a holster and a host of other peripheral things Kiden hadn't really thought about. ]

...not really. I thought pistols looked cooler than revolvers, that's all.

[ Grell will have to earn a lot more trust to get that kind of story out of Kiden. ]

[redcinemareel]

[Yes. That's all.]

We have such VARYING tastes. [Shrugs softly] Perhaps I'm a bit old fashioned. It's also a bit difficult to play Russian Roulette, however, with a pistol.