milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Ramon's in the bar early, despite wishing he was still upstairs. But, things to do, and there are reasons why it's not a good idea to have weapons in his room right now. Something to do with the company.

Anyway, he's cleaning three pistols, a rifle and his sword. Bit tricky when one arm is virtually out of action but hey, he's got time and nothing else to do right now. Distractions would be welcome though.

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A little grin.

"Ah. You were the one to get him drunk."

'Yeah, I guess. He thought he was a big man and could handle it.'

He eyes Melehan languidly.

'Why, you want to try now?'

"Not really, I was just commenting." Melehan is the sensible twin, clearly.

At least where books, revenge and rebellion are not involved.

Books make Ramon yawn. Revenge and rebellion he's all good with.

'Taught him how to shoot a gun too. He tell you about that? He was round earlier, we got talking again.'

Strangely, he quite likes the kid. Judgement is being reserved on his brother for the time being.

"No, I haven't seen him - just walked in, and I saw the sword."

A long pause, and his dark eyes flick to the pistols and rifles.

"They guns?"

He gestures to the seat opposite.

'Sit if you want to. And yeah, these are guns. I suppose you never saw any before either.'

Very slowly, very stiffly, the lanky boy sits, wincing a little as his shirt catches on his whipped back.

"No..." His eyes move over the guns, studying them intently. "Missile weapon, I'm guessing? Although I wouldn't want to get hit with one, either." Oddly enough, he sounds younger. Younger, and a bit more like his brother.

Ramon pulls out a bullet and sets it on the table, just as he had for Melou.

'Small missiles - well, projectiles, yeah.' The boy's stiffness doesn't go unnoticed but he doesn't comment for now.

'And no, you wouldn't want to get hit with one. It only takes one to kill you.'

Strange really - they look so similar, these boys, but there are differences evident already.

He reaches over, and picks the bullet up.

"One anywhere? Like, does it shatter once it hits?"

'Depends what kind of bullet. One like that, no, it'll go right through if it doesn't hit anything hard or you get a fairly thin part of the body.'

He taps his shoulder lightly. 'I got hit with one the other day. Right through, no real bother. But you can get ones that explode outwards when they hit - they're messy as hell. One in the head will kill you 99.9 percent of the time. One in the heart - hundred percent, just because you won't stop the bleeding and repair the hole quick enough before you die. Other major organs - well, you'd have to be lucky but you've got a chance.'

He doesn't feel bad about educating the kid. He'll never see these at home.

Softly, with a little smile,

"Cool."

Ramon raises an eyebrow with a small smile of his own.

'I suppose I should let you shoot one too, seeing as I let your brother. But I'm a bit out of action at the moment and it's dark anyway. Some other time though, if you like.'

"And I probably shouldn't move my arms too much at at the moment." He says, regretfully.

"Some other time..."

He stays quiet for a minute, then internally sighs and just asks.

'What happened?'

"Got caught sneaking a book back into the library, monks caught me, uncle pulled out the whip. So, move my arms, it stretches the skin and such on my back." He sounds matter-of-fact not because he's aiming for sympathy, because he's not (Melehan couldn't give a damn, really), but because it's just something that happens.

Even though his brother gets upset.

'They hit you for putting things back?'

Well, stands to reason, he thinks. If the kid's putting things back, he must have taken something in the first place.

'Why not just leave the books where they are? Or just read them in the library.'

Reading. Yuk.

"Unspoken rule is that I'm not supposed to read the military history."

'Why not?'

Obvious question perhaps. Rmaon grins though.

'I bet they think it'll give you ideas. Going to be King aren't you, if you have it your way?'

"Well, it's my throne. And everybody else wants it. So, if I am to have a chance when I'm older, I have to know what I'm doing. Uncle...has ideas, though. So, yeah. He thinks it'll give me ideas."

A bit late, says the boy's tone.

He glances around the bar, and catches sight of his brother.

"Should go, though. I'll try and find you with that gun."

'Fair enough. I'm usually around and the guns are always with me.'

He gives a one shouldered shrug. Throne's not yours if you're not sitting on it, kid.

He holds his tongue. 'See you around Melehan.'

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