Who:
deceptive_lulz aaaand
whip_the_foolsWhen: Backdated like a BOSS to December 12th (because god I was lame, during the holidays), during the morning.
Where: Sector 5, one of the forests in the area.
Summary: Sarina believes that no one should ever be left defenseless, so she takes it upon herself to teach Franziska the art of shooting.
Warnings: SHOOTING...things of an
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“Not at all, Ms. - ah - Von Karma.” Her own words came out in an anxious matter; she wanted to appear friendly, but she was so inexperienced with dealing with people that she typically defaulted to responses she learned from her occupation of waitressing. Being a master of observing people and mimicking them, she was able to program the necessary responses within her mind, though she typically had a hard time actually feeling the proper emotion behind the words. Even if the woman was young -- younger than her even (though she wouldn’t guess it) - Sarina put herself in the habit of addressing people of higher authority in a respectful manner. It was a habit she picked up from the military, though she was far more used to code names.
“I hope this location is suitable for you,” she continued, pausing to let out an impulsive giggle. “I’m not sure if there was any other place you’d prefer, but at least this is away from most wanderers, huh?"
She then glanced down at Franziska's hands, giving a curious tilt of her head as she noted her whip. Her brow furrowed as she mused on the possibility that perhaps the woman wasn't entirely trustful of her either -- though it would take a hell of a lot more than a whip to subdue her. However, she calmed herself down at the more likely scenario of it probably being the woman's way of feeling safe. Sarina could most certainly relate to that need for security.
"So - uh - what kind of gun do you have, if you don't mind me asking. I'm not sure if I asked you the last time we spoke." Shifting to a sheepish look, she continued. "Either that or I forgot."
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Anyway, so perhaps it was still a nervous habit -- but in reaction to what, precisely? Was this the right type of person to be teaching her how to shoot a gun? These thoughts were the main factor behind her politeness when she spoke, more prevalent than it usually would be. "Ah, no, I don't believe we discussed it -- y-we ought to have, but I can answer your question now. Give me a moment." With that, she took the bag she had slung over her shoulder off and placed it on the floor, settling her whip neatly beside it. After a few moments of searching through the contents of her bag, reaching inside a smaller bag to retrieve the aforementioned gun, a semi-automatic pistol. She took it out, holding it somewhat gingerly as though she fully expected it to explode in her hand. Realizing what her expression must look like at that moment, she did her best to school her features into passive neutrality.
"Here it is," she announced, then immediately felt foolish for mention something that was completely obvious; that was something other people did, not her -- but it was to make the other woman feel at ease, wasn't it? If she did it for that purpose, then she supposed it was necessary. Best not to dwell on it, so she distracted herself from that non-constructive line of thinking. "I should probably mention that I favor my left hand."
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"Left-handed?" she marveled. "Wow, even I haven't seen too many of those around -- left-handers, I mean." Not that she had really paid much attention to what hand people were using to fire guns at her, but she knew that it was a rare sight to see anyway. She supposed that it wouldn't be too hard to modify the lessons though; she'd just have to kind of think backwards?
"I think that should be an easy enough weapon for you to handle; although I guess I brought the wrong kind of gun to demonstrate with." She laughed timidly, edging a look at her rifle. "You'll have to forgive me; it's all I have available to me, at the moment. But - uh - to start things off, have you any experience at all with shooting?"
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Franziska eyed the rifle with a certain degree of wariness; it seemed somewhat like overkill to her, but if that's what the other woman felt most comfortable with, indeed, was the only weapon she owned, then she could not complain about anything. After a pause, she added, "Left-handers are statistically less common, yes; however, I can both whip and write proficiently with my right hand." She chose to, for now, not to elaborate on those particular circumstances -- this was no time to reminisce on the day that Miles Edgeworth had broken her arm.
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"So you're ambidextrous?" she asked, lifting her eyebrows in an impressed fashion. Not even very many soldiers had that capability -- hell, even she herself wasn't too skilled with her left hand. "That's pretty impressive, really. You already have an advantage over a lot of people. At least I think so."
"Um...would you like to start out by aiming at a tree?" she continued after some thought. "Or do you need me to show you how to handle your weapon?"
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