milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

The door opens, and River wanders in.

She looks to be in a reasonably good mood; at least, she's looking around the room, rather than staring at the floor or the air, even if her gaze doesn't quite settle quite normally. It's the tall boots today, rather than bare feet, under a loose floral skirt, and a couple of shirts in layers.

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And after another moment: "You've fired a gun. How did it feel?"

She looks at the ceiling still. Now there's the faint shadow of a smile.

"No power in the 'verse can stop me."

She looks away again. "Scared Kaylee."

Roland doesn't know who Kaylee is. Doesn't care.

He's curious.

"Would you do it again, if you could?"

"No touching guns."

Her head is still turned away from him, gaze turned somewhere across the bar.

"Says who?"

"Mal. Captain. Recipe for unpleasantness."

"Not if you know how to use one, and when to use one."

"Just an object. Doesn't comprehend."

"The gun," says Roland, "ought to be an extension of your body. Use it as you would use your arm. It is a tool, as is your hand. You learn when to use your hand, and how. Is it not so?"

"Means what you want it to mean. Doesn't mean anything."

After a moment, she looks back at him, and nods. "With your brain."

He studies her.

"Your captain is not here." A pause. A long pause.

"If we were to go outside, would you shoot for me?"

She looks at the fire.

"Mal said."

It's not quite clear whether it's a yes or a no. Maybe she's not sure either.

Direct: "Would you harm me, River?"

There's a long pause.

Then she shakes her head, still looking at the fire.

"Then there's no danger in it. You'd not be shooting at living creatures. Will you do it?"

Roland is thinking: born gunslinger.

Stranger things have happened in Milliways.

Much stranger.

A very, very long pause.

She doesn't say yes.

She doesn't say no, either.

She looks up at him, back at the fire. Back at him.

Roland waits, calmly.

"He'd be mad."

It's not quite a no.

"If he knew, mayhap. No reason for him to know. And you're not where you came from."

"Shouldn't keep secrets." Pause. "Everyone does. Hides things. They think nobody knows. They're wrong."

She blows out a breath, still staring at the fire.

Then she stands up, and looks at him, head tilted.

After a long moment, she nods a little.

Roland stands, and goes to the bar.

Ten empty bottles in two bags.

He goes out the lake door, and waits.

She follows.

She casts a long look at the forest's edge, but no great black horse appears. She looks at the sky, the lake, and back at Roland.

Moon's out. That's a good thing.

It's a bit muddy as Roland sets up the bottles by the lake's shore. Five of them. He's got plans for the others.

He carries the second bag back over to River, and sets it down out of the way.

Slowly, he removes his gun from its holster, and takes one of the bullets out. Five left.

He holds it out to her, butt first. "Take a moment. Get used to the weight. Learn what you need to learn. Might be different from the ones you've seen. Ask questions, if you've need."

Roland is handing over one of the guns of his father. He's serious. Deadly serious.

She takes it from him carefully, curling her fingers around the grip. The barrel points out vaguely over the lake, with no particular target.

She looks at it, for a while. Touches the hammer with her other hand, gently, as if feeling the texture of it.

"Old," she says softly. She looks at him. "Manual."

Roland nods. "Very old, yar. You know how to work it?"