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[detectivewonder]

Who: Crew of the First Breath & Visitors!
Broadcast: Video: First Breath/ Open To The Fleet!
Action: On the First Breath!
When: Right after the shuffle.

[First Breath Only]

This is your captain speaking. Apparently. I'll try not to give any orders you don't want to follow - key to a good commander, right?

We should establish a chain of command. Talk about goals. And maybe see if we can manage fancy uniforms as a ratings stunt.

[Fleetwide]

So. How seriously am I supposed to take my new rank?

Comments

[treasureling]

[ It's easy to mold him; he's obedient, he listens to every word she says. ]

All it takes is pulling the trigger?

That seems... easier, than a sword.

[proteusmoon]

Well, you have to aim and hold it properly too. With a sword, you have complete control over the killing part. With this? Not so much.

[ She lets him holds the weapon on his own, stepping away to grab the cup that she was previously drinking tea from. She sets it up on the desk nearby, making sure nothing but wall is behind it, then walks back over to stand beside him. ]

Use the sights to shoot the cup.

[treasureling]

A sword takes strength. It has a balance to it. It has to have harmony with the arm and the body.

[ He knows an awful lot, for not being a warrior.

Somewhat reluctantly, he takes aim. In squeezing the trigger, he is tense; the shot goes wild. ]

[proteusmoon]

[ Thankfully the gunshot doesn't ricochet. ]

Here--

[ She reaches out again to guide him. She shakes his wrist a little in the universal gesture for him to loosen up, then rearranges his arm so that it's outstretched, but his elbow isn't locked. ]

Relax. Try taking a breath and firing as you hold it. Try again.

[ She's quick to mention the obvious. ]

For someone who doesn't know how to fight, you awfully know a lot about the philosophy of wielding a warrior's weapon.

[ She sounds impressed and approving. ]

[treasureling]

I'm a blacksmith. A swordsmith, in particular.

[ He focuses again. Can't help tensing up, against the recoil, but he fires again, and again, and he starts to get used to it. The shots drift a little closer. ]

[proteusmoon]

Better.

[ She laughs softly in disbelief when he tells her he's a blacksmith. ]

That's amazing— and it explains your knowledge.

[ This time she takes a step behind him to lead his aim, correcting little things about his stance here and there, helping him set up the next shot for him before moving away to let him hold the stance and pull the trigger himself. ]

[treasureling]

[ He draws in a hint-too-sharp breath when she gets close to him. He's controlled, if not exactly tense, when she's close. Maybe a caution that he can't quite turn off. ]

It isn't so amazing.

[ The next few come decently close. ]

[proteusmoon]

[ She is obviously pleased by the progress, nodding in approval and smiling too. She doesn't ask about how he tenses up immediately when she gets closer to him. ]

Good, good.

And how can you say that? It takes dedication for one who is not a fighter to understand a swordsman's perspective. Smithing is a sort of art form. To a warrior or a soldier, their life depends on the sword and the crasftmanship of a good weapon is both appreciated by its wielder and meant to take credit for his or her survival. You should take more pride in your work. It is a valuable skill.

[treasureling]

It is an art.

But I take more pride in the beautiful things I've made than the deadly things.

[proteusmoon]

A sword can be beautiful. It doesn't always have to be used for killing. Some are used for protecting, some are used for decorum.

Have you made other things besides weapons with your skills?

[treasureling]

A sword is a weapon. I can give it a beautiful blade or a jeweled handle, but it won't stop being a weapon.

[proteusmoon]

[ Hm. Not a perspective she disagrees with, but it is something she didn't expect from someone who agreed to training with a much more easily abused weapon. She gently stops him from trying to hit the cup anymore and tries to take the firearm from him. ]

How do you feel about the probability of us having to fight against a threat at some point? Truly, honestly. And I don't mean against rats.

[treasureling]

[ He surrenders the gun without trouble. ]

I think I don't want to be helpless. And if a weapon is what it takes, then that's what it takes.

[proteusmoon]

And you're not simply doing this because I suggested it?

[treasureling]

I don't want to be helpless.

[ He repeats those words.

No, he's not doing it because she suggested it. He gives off the impression of that kind of obedient - he's worked at it, in fact, in the past - but in reality he fits poorly into that mold. He wishes he fit better. ]

[proteusmoon]

[ She seems to believe him— or at the very least, chooses to trust him. She relinquishes the firearm to him again. She doesn't help him with his stance or his grip on it this time, interested in seeing if he's remembered how she placed him herself earlier. ]

Hit the cup and you can go. Then meet me back here every day at six in the morning. Same expectation applies— you'll stay here practicing until you hit the target.

[ The softness of her tone is almost entirely gone now, replaced with the firm and serious mannerisms of an old instructor who's taught many students before in her life. In spite of her young age, she is entirely accustomed to this role. ]

[treasureling]

[ He does remember. He settles into that position carefully, someone who is very aware of his body and how he has to use it. Posture can change the strength of a strike, after all.

He aims.

This time, he grazes the edge of the cup. ]

[proteusmoon]

[ That makes her smile with just a little bit of pride. ]

[treasureling]

I liked - I liked the doorknobs.

[ He glances to her, knowing it was a little random. Smiles a little, tentatively. ]

The really rich women on Poleimachmanei - and their husbands - liked small, ornate touches. They didn't mind if the doorknobs were strange shapes, or were inlaid with leaves or geometric patterns. They thought it was a delight if the handle were a cat's paw, and the cat curled up against the door.

That was my favorite.

[proteusmoon]

[ It is a little sudden, but then again so was her question about his feelings on them having to fight. She listens to what he has to say attentively, remaining quiet until it's clear he's finished. ]

Why anyone would mind something so pretty is beyond me.

[treasureling]

You don't know how pretty they were.

[ But he's smiling a little, because, in a way, she does know. She's seen a little bit of what he holds inside himself. Only a little. ]

[proteusmoon]

[ She chuckles softly herself, glad that he seems to be growing comfortable around her. Come to think of it, that's the first genuine smile that she's seen him really make. ]

Maybe we'll find some place with the right tools so you can show me.

[treasureling]

I hope so. [ These words are a little more serious; he really doesn't know what to do with himself if he can't craft. ]

Thank you for the lesson.

[proteusmoon]

You're welcome. Tomorrow, we'll start again of course.

See you at dinner.

[treasureling]

[ He makes a little bit of a face, thinking of the paste and solid format that dinner will take. ]

I'll see you then.

[ And he ducks out, leaving the firearm to her. ]