Boys with toys >D

[shotgun_allure]

It had been a very long couple of weeks, or even months, since Yazoo had first arrived. Mostly, it had been spent healing his own wounds - it had been... disconcerting, how quickly they had closed up, but he put it down to the overdose of materia still doubtless boiling in his bloodstream - and making sure Kadaj didn't know how badly he had been

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[devils_handbook]

After the little run-in with the woman who apparently now lived at the shooting range, Hiruma had decided to make his own. It wouldn't do to fall out of practice, in shooting as well as football, and he approached it with the same fervor that had made him a quarterback in the first place, even when he'd started out woefully unqualified.

Target practice was a fucking blast, though. And it was cathartic, which was always good with Hiruma, with his constant buildup of violence. And something that anyone might notice, walking by, besides the blonde hair and the devil's grin, was the tendency of his shots to hit dead-center of where he wanted them to.

He felt that he was being watched, but didn't turn or address whoever it was until he was done, and paused even then, slinging his gun over his shoulder and looking at the target in satisfaction. It was a good job.

[shotgun_allure]

Yazoo saw. There wasn't much he missed, as much as people might think so with his hooded eyes and haughty ways. He looked the other up and down, once, before speaking. "Not bad."

Very high praise.

[devils_handbook]

Hiruma turned to look at him with that grin. "Good to hear you think so! You want a go?" It didn't take him long to take in the gun that the man carried, after all. And it was always good to learn good things about people.

reposting because I is dumb ;P

[shotgun_allure]

He tilted his head slightly to one side, then drew Velvet Nightmare. Without requesting that the blonde move out of the way first, he unloaded her at the targets from where he stood.

To the unobservant eye, it might have seemed that he had missed completely, but a sharper one would have noticed that each of the bullet-holes in the centre of the targets grew a little wider with each shot fired. The corner of Yazoo's mouth twitched up in a satisfied smirk. He hadn't lost his touch.