Shoot Her Conscience

Shoot her Conscience

An RP between Milli and I.

Milli was covered up, dark goggles covering both her eyes now, a hefty bag over her shoulder to conceal herself. She sidled up to her own house and knocked hesitantly. She knew Tia should be there, Syrean, too. The two women had promised to teach her to shoot. And with a lull in the work with her sister, Milli had figured this was as good a time as any.

The door opened with a pouty Syrean on one side and Tia behind the door opening it, glaring at the girl.

"It would’ve been f-." "No." Tia said flately to Syrean as she clutched a large rifle. She was so set to open the door with the rifle pointed at Milli but Tia didn’t think Milli would appreciate the joke.

Once the door was open Tia took Milli’s hand and tugged her inside, offering a kiss to the lips that had been intended for her cheek. She missed.

The sudden affection startled Milli, warm and tender. “O-oh.” She blushed as she pulled away, pressing her lips together to taste. Then she shook her head. It was an accident, of course. “I was…um.” She was clearly flustered. Though the few days with her sister and her sister’s mate had helped settle the woman significantly. Her eyes no longer held that haunted, lost look.

She looked down at her hands. New gloves, courtesy of Ravern, and one of Tsuu’s old coats. A bit too big for her. It helped conceal her. And seeing her hands helped her focus. “Shooting lessons?” she asked finally, looking between the two women.

"Right. Shooting lessons. I found a cave that is relatively open, so no rickashays and such but then… Syrean insisted we had the money to hop gates which I completely hate. So you get to decide. Gate, or a field out in Queensdale?" 

Syrean had brought a large satchel full of rifles and pistols and was packing them away now after cleaning each and every one. She looked positively ecstatic, which was surprising because battle normally made her wither.

Milli nodded as she listened to them. “I’d rather be far from here. Far from anyone who might…know me,” she said quietly. “I just don’t want to be noticed for a while.” She said the words in an embarrassed sort of way. Like she expected Tia and Syrean to look down on her. She hoped otherwise, but despite what Tia said, she knew she was running from her problems.

"So the gate, if we could?" Milli looked ready to help Syrean with the guns if she needed them, though she’d brought her own set of pistols and a borrowed rifle just in case.

"Alright," Tia said with a smile, her best attempt at reassurance. She was certain Milli knew her opinion on running, but Milli also respected the fact that Milli wasn’t her. Everyone had their own way of dealing with things and Tia’s wasn’t any healthier than running.

Tia ventured out of the house as the two finished collecting the arsenal, the heavy bag needing Milli’s help to carry. “Milli…” Syrean said softly. “I don’t know if what I’m doing is right anymore,” she said in regards to the cause. She couldn’t tell Tia, but something about Milli made her believe she could confine in her.

Before the woman could respond, Tia was ducking her head inside the door and ushering them on. “It’s clear. Lets head out.”

Seeing Syrean’s pang of conscience, Milli frowned. “What? You’re…” She reached over and squeezed the woman’s arm. “You can tell me,” she said softly. Then Tia interrupted and they were heading out.

Remaining unobtrusive on the way to the gate occupied all of her thoughts. She kept her head down, letting the hat hide her face. Once they were at the gate plaza, she figured one of them would ask her opinion, so she offered it up first. “I’d rather to go to Hoelbrak or Rata Sum, unless you have a preference.”

"There’s some dumb height tax in Rata Sum. We’ll go to Hoelbrak, we’re all dressed in jackets and less concern over gunfire," Tia muttered. She stepped first, followed by Milli and then Syrean. Each step of the way Tia played guard to Milli and Syrean just played the life of the party. This was Tia’s birthday present, agreeing to help Milli.

Nodding, Milli followed. This would help, she kept telling herself. One more step to being in control. Not having to be so afraid all the time. She’d learned to wire a security system with practice and training, learned how to make acid, and how to place poison into a tiny compartment without harming herself. She could learn this, too. She just had to concentrate and practice.

Once through the gate, Milli slowed down a bit and let Tia get a few steps ahead. Knowing their guardian would soon stop and wait for them, Milli whispered to Syrean, “If you can get her to back off a bit, we can talk, alright?”

"Okay," Syrean said softly, smiling at Milli like a sister. If she was family to Tia, she was family to Syrean too. Tia ended up taking up the bag Syrean was lugging, assuming thats why they were slowed down. "This good Syrean?" she asked after a half hour of walking. They arrived at an open area with rocks in the horizon. Boulders really, but the norn felt they were only rocks.

"Yeah, we can set up targets on those," Syrean said, pointing to the boulder-rocks.

"Alright. I’ll go set up the targets and you unpack the weapons." Perfect, Syrean thought! She watched as Tia took the satchel of jugs and jars of various sizes and set them up on the rocks carefully.

"Yesterday… Lady Brennan was accidentally shot," she whispered to Milli, still paranoid that Tia could hear everything. She couldn’t. "My heart stuck in my throat, my stomach was in knots. It was one of her members, a magic bullet, I don’t know what caused it but it wasn’t intentional. When I first saw her, though, laying there on the ground… I thought for sure it was one of us. I thought… I thought it was my fault and I … I wanted to be punished. Even when I found out it wasn’t, because it could’ve been."

Milli walked close to Syrean, both for the shared body heat — it was damned cold in Hoelbrak in the fall — and so the other woman would understand she was willing to listen. As they began setting out the weapons and Syrean unloaded her fears, Milli nodded in understanding.

"I know how you feel," she said quietly. "I’ve seen the things my…work has caused. And it’s hard, sometimes, to know that. I try to just see it differently. To understand that if I didn’t give those people those weapons, someone else would have. As for the Cause…" she sighed. "I honestly don’t care much either way. I support the organization. Because they support me. And what they do…it’s not about me. And me being a part of it or not being a part of it won’t change things that much. That’s how I live with it. How I live with myself."

She looked up at Syrean as she adjusted her eyepiece back on her face. “We all have to learn to deal with our wrongs, the ones done to us and the ones done by us. Sometimes that means walking away. Sometimes it means sticking to your guns. I wish I had better advice for you, Syrean, but the world is too utterly grey for that.”

Syrean’s brow still furrowed, and as she nodded she still felt conflicted. The Cause was fighting to right the wrongs done to her by those who had stolen her parents, Tia’s son… But she didn’t understand what Lady Brennan had to do with any of that. She only housed a charr guard and only recently. She had to push all of that aside for now, and focus on the task at hand.

"Alright… What do you know about guns so far?" the lithe girl asked Milli as though she was a hardened hunter. The crunching of the snow warned of Tia’s return and she was surprisingly comfortable in the cold.

Milli nodded to the rifle in Syrean’s hands. “I know how they work. I know how to make them work better. I can aim and fire, but my accuracy is poor.” She tapped her eyepiece. “It’s difficult to adjust this thing while firing, especially with moving targets. I can load and fire the weapons quickly if need be.” She listed them off like she was checking them off on a sheet of paper in her head.

She smiled at Tia as the woman approached. “And I know that I need to be better with them so that I’m not so vulnerable anymore.”

"We’ll start slow. Wont happen all at once, but this is how I learned. Non moving targets first, then the moving ones. You really only need one eye to be honest… So lets see if we can’t get you set up to rely on your good eye only. Look down the scope with it, focus on the bourbon jug. Take deep, slow breaths until you’re able to steady the sight on the jug, then pull. Only put your finger on the trigger when you’re ready to shoot, never before." Syrean began as though she was an old man in a milita. She had channeled her father and it was obvious that Tia was proud of her. She excelled in this, and thats why Tia encouraged her to be the one to teach Milli.

Chewing on her lip, Milli did as instructed. She stood very still, holding the rifle carefully against her shoulder, a firm grip. She focused on the bourbon jug, nothing else. She let the sounds of the wind and snow fall away. She lined up and between one breath and the next, pulled the trigger.

The rock just to the side of the jug chipped in a pinging whine echoed around them. Milli shrugged. “Close. I just take a while to get lined up right, I guess.”

"It’s fine. You gotta practice, you’re doing great! Line it up and try again. After this you should rest your shoulder though. Ensure it doesn’t get tired." Syrean noted she was standing, but would wait until the next round to suggest a kneel.

Tia stood quietly observing, a soft smile on her lips as she watched. She was happy with her girls, helping like a mother or a sister should.

The next shot did in fact hit the jug, and Milli beamed. She took Syrean’s advice and rolled her shoulder a bit. “I suppose I should see if Tsuu and Ravern will let me set up a shooting range in their backyard so I can practice a bit more every day. Seems like a skill that requires fairly constant usage to improve.” She always spoke this way, as though people were machines that had specifications and requirements rather than animals with needs and urges. It was why she had such a hard time understanding others so often.

She reloaded and looked to Syrean. “Again? Or farther away? Or moving?”

"I would! Start with the jugs, and when they aren’t a challenge, you set up moving targets. Dad threw plates in the air, or he’d take me rabbit hunting. You’re doing a lot better than most! So I think you’ll pick it up easier. I find it liberating myself," Syrean continued rambling on.

Tia wandered over to Milli finally, rubbing her shoulder as she leaned in to speak softly in Milli’s ear. “I’m proud of you,” she said with a soft smile. It’s something Tia had always wanted to hear but never had, so she assumed others would want to hear it too.

Milli blushed at the praise from both women. “Thanks,” she said quietly to Tia, then gave Syrean a bright smile. “Alright. I’ll give it another go.” She continued working along the row of jugs, stopping every so often to shake out her shoulder or rest her arm. Things seemed to slip away easily when she concentrated. Focused. It was like work…only different. But she could use the same concepts. If she could do this while in battle, she might actually be good at this.

The thought was far more liberating than she’d expected.

With something of fame, if not value, thought long lost.

Brainstorming

Lets have a brainstorming session. Reblog this adding onto the idea of the reblog before you and we’ll start it all out with this: A person from the past has come knocking. 

“Sink” from Dexten

She had no running water in her house, so any time she had dishes that needed washing or her clothes were finally too disgusting to continue wearing, Milli had to go to the inn next door and pay a few coppers to use their sink. She'd argued she should get it for free since she was renting the house from them, but the owner insisted that the sink fee was extra.

It was also a luxury that she could only take advantage of while the inn's kitchen was closed. So the nights not spent busy at her workbench were spent washing clothes and dishes.

She hadn't been responsible for such things for a very long time. Her adoptive mother, while completely out of it most of the time, still had enough of her mind left to keep the house clean and tidy, to wash clothes and dishes. Having to relearn skills at age 22 that she'd only begun to master at age six was disturbing and odd.

Washing also gave her time to think. This was sometimes good. Mostly, though, it was bad. She couldn't distract herself with her work because she couldn't doodle in her notebook. Sometimes thoughts of her lovers could distract her, but lately only one brought her any real pleasure.

So she was left with the worries and deep fears that attached themselves to one's mind and didn't let go. Fears of being taken again, kidnapped. Hurt and left to die. Becoming a burden to those she cared about to the point that they stopped caring about her. Being left alone.

It was the last, the deepest, that often sent Milli scurrying from the kitchen with a half-clean bucket of dishes, anxious for anything to distract her troubled mind.

Orange blossom - Havelock

From Livinia

If Havelock could pick his child's gender and appearance he would make it male, with a blend of his and Livinia's features. Dark hair and golden eyes, Livinia's pale, creamy skin, his own drive and need for power.

Three Things: Havelock from Dexten

“Bittersweet spite, words with spice, and bright blue eyes that are oh so nice”

Havelock Verdant

Wit

Charisma

Patience

Mix the first two thoroughly and dapple with dimples and seductive smiles. Cultivate the third properly, in the dark corners where there's nothing but time.

Keeping Watch

On swift paws he dodged boots and cart wheels, keeping up with Quiet Mews. He’d shadowed her home the night before after her encounter with one of her mates. And the mate had shadowed her, too. Widget wasn’t sure why he didn’t just walk with her like he usually did. But his pet was nothing if not unpredictable.

Now she was intently making her way through the throng of talls-without-tails and talls-with-tails and not heading toward home or her nest. And so it fell to him to protect Quiet Mews, because that’s what a good owner did.

He’d named her Quiet Mews early on because she was generally so soft when she made the strange trills common to her kind. And it wasn’t like she had the decency to speak and tell him her name. But he’d been left in her home to take care of her and he would be dutiful in that. Even if she never ate the birds and mice he left at her feet, urging her to gain strength.

She stopped at a place and scratched at the door. It was opened by another female, one he’d met many times before. Quiet Mews and Stompy Boots trilled at one another and there was some exchange of affection. The pair looked so alike, Widget had long ago decided they must be siblings. Or if not littermates, then at least children of the same parents.

When Stompy Boots opened the door wider, Widget took the invitation and darted inside. He needed to make sure the place was safe for Quiet Mews. It was indeed a nice place. Warm fire, plenty of space, sleeping platforms like Quiet Mews preferred (though he knew she’d never tell anyone she hated waking up at her bench, but he’d seen her frown all too often when she did). Widget went back to the main room and told her he approved, but as usual she just responded with a trill. One day, he would teach her to speak.

He twined around her legs a few times and when she sat down she pulled him into her lap. Widget preferred this position. He could keep watch on his pet. And really, it didn’t hurt that she tended to stroke him while he did so.

Oh, right there. Yes.