abraxaslogs | [ dec / open ] what even is the point of december without christmas presents?

[ Julie's instinct is to protest again, to insist that she shouldn't have said anything, let alone everything. The world she was brought up in taught her that the worst possible thing to be is reliant on others, to put your struggles in the open and ask for help. Unless it is a matter of life or death, you keep your trap shut, put your nose back to the grindstone and pull yourself up by your bootstraps. It's the American way.

But she gets the distinct feeling that this situation is a parallel of when she'd insisted that helping Geralt was not burdensome, that she would never have turned him away. That Ciri wouldn't turn her away. So she shuts up, just squeezes Ciri's hand back, then smooths down her skirt before she looks over at the fence.

The way Ciri describes the cans make her laugh a little, a single chuckle halfway smothered by the still-very-crushing weight in her chest, but it's there all the same, with the smallest of smiles. ] You mean the beer cans? They're pretty much just... jars, I guess? Except lighter and cheaper to make. I have no idea where people got the idea to use 'em for target practice, but it's how a lotta kids where I'm from start out learnin' to shoot. Line 'em up, knock 'em down, keep repeatin' until you run outta either cans or bullets.

[ Reaching into the box of seemingly endless ammo, she pulls out two shells and holds them up in one hand, her rifle in the other. ] These are bullets. Well, really these are shells. Inside, there's a bullet, gunpowder, some buckshot. Basically, this thing is a tiny explosion waitin' to happen, and this [ she holds up the gun ] is the spark. The explosion sends the bullet, a lil' metal thing, forward at high speed, to hit whatever you're aimin' for. Think about how much power you can put into an arrow, then multiply it by a million. It can go straight through a skull and out the other side, so you never aim at anythin' you ain't willin' to shoot. It's not like a bow, where you can change the power at the last second. Once you pull the trigger, it's done.

[ As she talks, she loads the new shells into the rifle, showing Ciri everything she's doing. ] This is a shotgun, or you can also call it a rifle. See, guns aren't just one kind of weapon. It would be like callin' every knife a sword just 'cause they both slice. There are lots of different ones, you use 'em for different situations and targets, but it's all the same basic idea, aim and shoot. Not much different than an arrow, but usually you're shootin' at things that are further or faster than you would use a bow for, so you take different things into account. Is this makin' sense?

[ Julie's assessment is correct, though Ciri isn't exactly good at explaining it; even if she didn't owe Julie (despite Julie's protestations), Ciri considers them friends now. Allies who watch each other's backs.

She hasn't had a great many friends, in all honesty. Trust isn't to be taken lightly.

Ciri smiles, letting go of Julie's hand when they both shift their attention to the gun, and Ciri encourages the distraction by paying close attention and nodding when appropriate, watching Julie's hands. Now and again, she offers a soft noise of understanding, a grunt or a hum, taking in the explanation with genuine interest that's not just because her friend is the one going over all this. ]

Of course. I understand. [ Julie's comparison is logical. There are many things that fit under a certain category but wouldn't necessarily be accurately called the same. ]

If you can't control the speed or force behind the shot, isn't it less precise?

It can be, but you make up for it in speed. A bullet moves so much faster than an arrow that you're more likely to hit any part of a target. All you need's one hit to slow 'em down, then you can fire again, more precise. With a shotgun like this, you try to stay within a certain range, and after that, you're losin' precision. There are other guns better for long-range shooting. There's also what we call shot. See, inside the shell, there can be a bunch of real little lead balls that fire out, too, so it's like a spray that can hit the target. Birdshot are teeny tiny balls, for birds, buckshot is bigger and heavier ones for game. Smaller guns, pistols and revolvers and stuff, they only fire single slugs at a time.

[ She opens the shotgun, loads the shells in and then closes it again. Pointing out the different parts of the gun, she watches Ciri to make sure that she understands. It's not that she thinks Ciri is incapable, it's just literally that she's never been this close to a gun. ] Stock, grip, barrel. Trigger, safety. Safety should always be on unless you're actually firin'. Dominant hand holds the stock at the dip, like you're shakin' hands. Index finger on the trigger when you're ready to fire. Non-dominant hand holds the grip and pumps, which loads the shell into the chamber. Swing the gun up, stock pressed back into your shoulder. If you put it under your arm, you're gonna get a lotta kick, so you wanna absorb it with your shoulder instead. You line your cheek again the stock, like notchin' an arrow, then aim.

[ She does all of it in one smooth, practiced motion, but doesn't fire yet. Instead, she looks at Ciri from the corner of her eye, over the stock. ] Got it?

[ Ciri pays close attention. As soon as Julie starts explaining, she's there every step of the way, watching, listening, taking stock of the different parts of the gun and the different types of ammunition as they're explained. She doesn't necessarily understand all of it at once, but she does understand most. A weapon's a weapon; it's not so different from a bow and arrow in its overarching purpose, or perhaps a ballista, but smaller.

It's also, frankly, a relief to see Julie coming back to herself after all that. Ciri understands the feeling intimately. Sometimes, it just makes you feel better to swing a sword at something; in Julie's case, it's shooting a gun. ]

Got it. [ She nods, waiting for Julie to fire, observing her closely. She just has one question. ]

What do you mean by "a kick"?

[ Ciri absolutely does not need to understand most of it -- Julie only knows this much because she spent her life surrounded by the "come and take them"-style gun culture of deep red America. But the contents of a shotgun shell, all the technicalities, these aren't things that really matter. All that matters are the basics, and Julie has no doubts about Ciri's capability.

Julie thinks for a moment about the best way to explain, then rolls her shoulder against the butt of the gun to illustrate the idea of absorbing the impact. ] All right, so "kick" is just another word for recoil. The force that pushes the bullet out also pushes back toward you, and if you don't take it right, it can knock you back. The bigger the gun, the bigger the kick. There are guns so strong that we hafta mount 'em, 'cause no human could take that much force. Anyway, takin' the recoil in your shoulder lets it go through your body to the ground. If you just tuck the stock under your arm or somethin', the recoil doesn't transfer anywhere, so it'll push you backward.

[ She cracks her neck to one side, then realigns her cheek before she pauses. ] You might wanna cover your ears. [ Julie is used to the noise, and she figures her hearing is already shot to hell from years of loud music and gunfire anyway. Plus, it's not real, but Ciri wouldn't know to manifest it at a lower decibel.

She fires twice, pumping the grip in between, and after each bang, there's the tinny sound of impact against the cans. ]

We have projectile weapons like that, but much bigger. They're loaded up with stones or metal bolts, like enormous crossbows.

[ The shape of Julie's weapon is different, but the concept isn't foreign to her. A crossbow is similar in many ways. She pays attention, watching Julie line up the shot and where she rests the butt of the gun. Swords don't exactly have a recoil, but momentum has to be accounted for, the force of the swing and the movement and the opponent's opposing force; again, Ciri can easily apply her understanding to this situation.

Honestly, it makes her curious.

She covers her ears as instructed, already having heard the bang from further way. It is even more unpleasant up close, and she winces a little, but she keeps her eyes open. ]

How long have you been practicing with this type of gun?

[ She asks when Julie finishes her round of shots. ]

Oh yeah, like a catapult! Wait, maybe it's a trebuchet? I don't know the difference. [ Her voice is very bright now. This is absolutely a woman who has been at a harvest festival where pumpkins were catapulted. ] Anyway, yeah, we have those! They don't use 'em now, but see, from what I can tell, your world is a lot like mine was about... six hundred years ago? Somethin' around that. We never had monsters or magic, but otherwise it seems about the same. Abraxas too, it's like my world hundreds of years ago. So we had that stuff, they used it all before guns and bombs were invented.

[ Shifting her gun to hold it over her shoulder, Julie offers Ciri her hand, where there is now a pair of pink tactical earmuffs. She knows that she should theoretically wear them too, but there's a ton of stuff she should do and never does. There's a pause while she replaces the spent shells, one where she thoughtfully rolls her eyes to the ceiling as she goes through her memory. ] Mm, lemme think. I got my first bow for my birthday when I turned four, which means I was still four when I got my BB gun for Christmas... my first shotgun was... two Christmases later? So I woulda been six when my daddy started teachin' me to shoot. So... nineteen years? Ish?

A trebuchet is a type of catapult. Bigger, with longer range. [ Ciri explains without even really needing to; it's just sort of automatic. She doesn't necessarily know a lot of details about weapons like that, but it's fairly common knowledge. Julie's explanation earns a thoughtful nod. Ciri had gathered something similar over their various conversations, the things she knows and how Julie keeps mentioning things being outdated or old-fashioned. ]

Really? [ Ciri blinks, impressed. ]

That's quite a bit longer than I've been holding a sword. No wonder your aim's so good.

Yeah, no foolin'. It's pretty common, where I'm from, for kids to start huntin' and fishin' around that age, 'specially the boys. My daddy wanted boys and he wasn't about to let the fact that he only had one girl stop him from doin' it too. [ Hunting had been the only thing Julie ever connected with her father over. If she hadn't been a natural shot, she's not entirely sure that her father would have even remembered her name.

She offers the gun, now loaded, to Ciri, along with the earmuffs. ] Here, wear these and give it a try. No sense in you blowin' out your hearin' too. Mine's long gone.

Mm. I see.

[ Ciri doesn't quite grasp that the acts of hunting and fishing aren't as necessary to feed their families where Julie's from as she's envisioning, but it makes her smile that Julie had proven herself despite her father wanting boys. That is an unfortunately familiar sentiment across their spheres, women being discouraged from weapons. Just as familiar is a woman's refusal to listen.

She takes the gun, holding it carefully, gauging the weight of it. The pink earmuffs get a look, but Ciri puts them on as bidden. Julie could have made them look less silly, but she doesn't point that out. She glances at Julie for confirmation as she tries to emulate her position, holding the gun up braced against her shoulder as Julie had. Right now, she's not trying to aim very seriously; she won't be able to judge that well until she can feel it firing. Anywhere out toward the targets will do.

Unsure how much the strange ear covers will muffle her hearing, Ciri decides to ask anyway: ]

How's this?

[ If it makes more sense, it's not that Julie hadn't grown up eating hunted meat. It's just more that her father wouldn't have taken her if she wasn't a crack shot from a young age. So see, Ciri? It's just good old-fashioned sexism, not modern conveniences. ~~It is also modern conveniences.~~

This is one of those times where Julie doesn't particularly care what someone who comes from before invention of the concept of safety thinks about the precaution -- on a range at home, Ciri would be in eye protection too, so Julie can't see anything to complain about. Julie just doesn't do it herself because she's a redneck dumbass and she's been going without since she was a small child

She gives Ciri a thumbs up and a smile, gestures for her to go ahead. ]

[ On Julie's go-ahead, Ciri does her best to line up her shot before squeezing the trigger. Her mouth drops open in surprise at the kickback, stronger than she expected, rattling her body and making her flinch. The bullet goes wide, hitting nothing.

After a moment, she takes a breath, braces herself more seriously, and fires again. Still no hit, but she handles it better this time. ]

[ Julie laughs at Ciri's expression, but cheers encouragingly anyway, clapping and whooping. That shock is familiar, appears on everyone whose first shooting experience is as an adult, but it's still very funny.

Julie grabs some more shells, gets ready to reload the gun for Ciri, but pauses after the second shot, making a vague gesture in the air with one hand as she speaks, slightly loud to counter the ear protection, her tone encouraging. ]

It's fast than an arrow, you don't have to compensate so much for wind drag. You can go straighter'n that and it won't go as wide as you think it will.

[ Ciri nods, expression set in concentration as she continues her practice. When it's time to reload, she lets Julie help her and watches, then tries again, each time learning a little more about how to fix her aim.

When she finally hits one of the cans with a loud ping, Ciri almost starts waving the gun around in her excitement. She bounces up on the balls of her feet, gesturing for Julie in a universal look! motion, pointing at the empty spot where the can had fallen. ]

Ha! I got it!

[ The furious, heartbroken feather duster is nowhere to be seen now, shut away in one of the mental boxes that Julie compartmentalizes pain into. Instead, there is now only a cheerleader, all applause and hollering, jumping up and down with excitement.

Is it healthy? Absolutely not. Is it what's happening? Sure is.

Still laughing delightedly, she cracks open a beer and offers it to Ciri. ]

There we go! See, ain't it fun?!

[ Compartmentalizing and choosing violence is the only way Ciri knows how to deal with her own heartbreak as well. Unfortunately, Julie's not going to learn any healthier coping mechanisms from her (and potentially less healthy ones, in fact). But as far as distractions go, Ciri has to admit this is a good one.

She grins back, taking the beer to reward herself with a long swig. For now, she slides the ear protection down to her neck as well. ]

It is. [ She sounds a bit surprised, but pleased. Not going to beat a sword in her book, but it's still pretty satisfying. ] Glad you showed me.

[ dec / open ] what even is the point of december without christmas presents?

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