[ open ] swift as the coursing rain, with all the force of a great typhoon

[flashbanging]

CHARACTERS: McCree; Koltira; yOU
DATE: First few weeks post-arrival in Perdition's Rest
WARNINGS: somebody might hit somebody else
SUMMARY: TRAINING DAY(s)



MCCREE

[ McCree's set up near the northwestern border of the town. He's constructed a line of targets--six flour sacks tied to poles, facing the expanse of desert beyond--and he's spinning his revolvers in his good hand. He's got a mess of other guns piled on top of a nearby barrel, some borrowed from Riza Hawkeye, some purchased from the local munitions shop. Attached to the barrel is a sign:

SHARPSHOOTING
(OR HAND-TO-HAND)
HERE. ]

KOLTIRA

[ Koltira's on the southern outskirts. Anyone conducting business in the town proper can see him just beyond the edges of the last buildings, giant sword in hand, black coattails fluttering behind him as he paces. He has no targets, and no sign, either. He has the sword in his hand, the knives on his belt, and a scowling expression on his face. ]


[ OOC: TRAINING, with either Koltira or McCree. Obviously, totally separate from one another--I just combined the log so as not to spam the community needlessly. If no actual training was discussed on record, but you'd still like to have your character learn something, feel free to handwave that discussion.

McCree offers: sharpshooting; brawling.

Koltira offers: weapons training; magic if you're capable; hand-to-hand also.

McCree is a friendly and patient teacher.

Koltira is not.

Of course, if you'd just like to bother them while they are holding deadly weapons, that is also fine. Please comment to either subheader below for a custom starter! Please specify what you're here for! ]

Comments

[respired]

It was. You strike with ferocity, and little more is needed versus a single ghoul.

[ Unholy magic swirls around Koltira's fingers as he turns his hand palm up, palm down, and back again. ]

I cannot create anything with true sentience, if that's what you mean. Not without a sentient body. Ghouls and wights and so forth--I conjure them from the dust and bones of the earth. They are simply constructs. But some are hardier than others.

[secondnature]

But they uh—that is all they are, right? [While Keith may have a more vicious streak than most of the Voltrons, he's been forced to become more aware of it in recent history. He knows his limits, so setting them instead of realizing that he might want to set them after all, is generally a good idea.]

[respired]

[ He jerks his head at the remains of the ghoul--it's already dissipating, turning to back to dust and tendrils of green magic. ]

Like an automaton made of flesh. There is no spirit or heart.

[secondnature]

... That's good. [Relief isn't always palpable with Keith, but it is here.] I'm fighting a war back home, and I know what that entails. But ... I guess things here have changed it a bit.