Target Practice [Ryan/Stoot/Ursula]

[hackanut]

OOC: So, I'm really lame and have had this thread idea stuck in my head for awhile. So, I'm going to make a thread for Stoot, Ryan and Ursula. It could potentially open up to others, but I just want to get the general idea out there before I do that. The glory of this: I don't have to feel bad about making people wait if I take awhile to post! Huzzah!
Oh, and this thread is set for OCTOBER, after the Whitefall Mishap. I'm going to go under the assumption we already have another job. we'll have to set that up soon!
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Ryan walked slowly forward, eyed his target up and down. The room was silent for a moment that felt longer than it truly lasted, before he quickly drew his pistol and fired it at the chest. Perfect. Right in the place where the heart should be. He holstered his gun and repeated the act a few more times, each time trying to draw a little faster, trying harder to hit the same spot consistently. To assure himself that he still "had it."

The man had turned the cargo bay into a makeshift shooting range, setting up a thick cloth bust in front of a steel strip. Their next job would be a little trickier than the games they'd played with Patience at Whitefall, and Ryan had to be in top condition. Ever since the war, guns always made him feel very weary and nauseous. He was trying to conquer this sensation by forcing himself to be around his gun as much as possible. His gun was his best friend, of course, but being shell shocked meant that it was a best friend who had probably done something very wrong in the past and it was taking awhile to forgive.

Again, he fired his gun at the target, this time not hitting right on target, but clipping the shoulder instead. "Damn," he muttered under his breath, retaking his stance. Ryan had been practicing for the past two days, no fail, for three hours straight before dinner. He practiced alone and liked it that way. No distractions.

Well...until tonight. He looked up to see someone observing him from the catwalk above.

[stoot]

Stoot heard the recently-familiar racket emanating from the cargo bay as he was preparing dinner. He was nearly done, the stew just had to simmer for another half hour or so before he started on toasting the bread. Not a fancy meal of any kind, but he made do with what the budget allowed.

Ryan was shooting again.

Ever since they had picked up that new job from Murdo, the captain had gotten out his gun and started mangling that old bust that was hanging out in a spare room on the ship. Stoot was quite amused with Ryan's new hobby, being one of the only people who knew of his little problem with being shell-shocked. He capped the pot of stew and went out through a few rooms before he found himself at the cat walk. He leaned against the rail, grinning broadly at the way in which Ryan took the simple act of shooting a gun so seriously.

Ryan noticed him, and Stoot waved at him. "I think you need'ta be shown how it's done, my good man!" he called, coming down the catwalk and descending the stairs into the cargo hold. "I might look like a fat idiot who can't shoot, but let me assure ya that I'm just a fat idiot." He grinned as he pulled his own pistol out from the waistband of his pants and cocked it. Turning this into a group activity was sure to annoy his friend, but he needed the lift in spirits. Ryan had been making himself somewhat of a loner lately, and Stoot felt guilty for almost condoning that, what with the time he was spending with Ari nowadays. He had been neglecting his emotionally unstable friend. While Ryan was perfectly able to take care of himself, Stoot still felt a certain responsibility that involved keeping him company. Not letting him get too lonely. Being a good friend.

He fired at the bust and left a black hole right between where its eyes would be, if any had been sewn in. He made a show of blowing on the tip of his gun, even though no smoke emitted from it, and spinning it around his finger a few times before returning it to his waist. "Come on, sharp shooter, quit aimin' for the easy part! Top my shot."

Stoot crossed his arms over his chest and grinned in a competitive way at his friend. "I ain't convinced y'know how anymore!"

[hackanut]

OOC: Oh I forgot about my own thread. yay me! xD
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Ryan glared as his best friend crashed his "party". "Stoot, ain't you got a dinner to cook?" he asked, exasperated. The failed shot to the shoulder was frustrating enough! And here Stoot was, coming down to show him how it was done.

Ryan was superior to Stoot in most aspects of life, or that's how it was perceived. Ryan saw it more as a good balance of personalities, but one had to admit that Stoot had an ability to make someone feel awkward. In any case, Ryan would never be better at sharp-shooting than Stoot. Perhaps that's why he was the manic-depressive and his friend was the one always wearing a smile. You should be happy if you've got excellent aim; you never have to worry about getting shot.

Stoot made a show of shooting the dummy between the eyes and Ryan sighed. 'Okay, I'll play,' he thought, some of the frustration lifting. His friend was only trying to help. He could understand that and deal with it. He had been kind of sick of being lonely anyway. He needed Stoot to show him up; it would make him try harder to top him.

"I probably don't," He replied to Stoot's remark, shooting down his challenge. "We'll see, though." He smirked.

Ryan took a shot at the bust's head and was a little sad to see that he'd shot just a little too far right; he'd clipped the side, but had it been a real person it wouldn't have killed them. Stoot clapped him on the back and it made Ryan cough; Danny-boy didn't know his own strength.

"Shut up," he said, before another remark could be made. "I's just warmin' up."

[stoot]

Stoot laughed heartily at Ryan's miss, and allowed him to take a second shot. He still didn't hit the same spot Stoot did. "I see what yer doin' wrong," He said, coming over. "You're makin' too big a show out of it. Try closin' yer less-dominant eye and lookin' down the middle of th'gun." Stoot raised his pistol and shot at the bust, not hitting the same mark directly but it was about a half-inch off. Still very close. "S'easy. You know how to shoot, Ryan, because you survived that war. You got it in ya."

Stoot observed his friend for a moment, a sly smile creeping up to his lips. "I bet your aim's off 'cause you got that part-a yer mind on other things." He could see the white form of a woman out of his peripheral vision, but apparently Ryan hadn't noticed yet because he hadn't started drooling and stammering yet. Stoot ignored her, not letting her know that he knew she was there.

"You still ain't over th'whore, ain't ya?" Stoot wasn't scared to call Ursula a whore. It's what she was. "Still pinin' and whatnot."