fandomhighdorms | The Range [Sunday afternoon]

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The Range [Sunday afternoon]

Triela had slept terribly again. She kept waking up to imagine sounds, and whenever she closed her eyes there where odd images waiting for her. It was very disconcerting, and it was taking its toll on her, too.

Someone didn't know what it was to dream.

So she was at the range. It always helped her relax. Except that now that she was there, and had her weapon laid out and ready, she found that she was feeling a bit dizzy. She knew you should never handle a gun if you weren't in full control of yourself, but she'd never been anything but, so she wasn't exactly sure what to do.

She was standing there, frowning at the shotgun as if it was somehow responsible for the tiny little termors that were running through her body.

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"I'm fine," Triela waved easily. "Just distracted."

Which was rather unusual in and of itself.

Set at ease, Scully nodded, then considered the shotgun in front of Triela as she re-loaded. "New gun, or old one?"

"Old," Triela answered fondly.

Then she scowled. "Hilshire keeps telling me I should get something more modern."

"Hilshire?" Scully tilted her head, waiting on another round while the conversation continued for the moment. "And why not? Or is this one your favorite?"

So odd, to be talking about favorite guns with a teenager. But Triela didn't exactly qualify as typical.

"My handler," Triela clarified. "And I like the M1897." Hilshire had given it to her years ago. "It was designed without a trigger-disconnecter, which makes it a lot better for rapid fire than a lot of modern guns."

But, mostly, she was just fond of it. And a creature of habit.

Scully shivered, getting a sense of what they were talking about, Triela's experience with guns, and studied the shotgun again. Rapid fire. She hook her head. "So why does he think you should upgrade?"

Triela shrugged. "Modern weapons are easier to maintain and replace. And most of the new combat shotguns use box magazines." More ammunition was pretty much always useful, after all.

Scully took a moment to think over that as she emptied another half-clip at another target. Turning back, she asked, "Do you think your handler knows his guns?" Do you trust him, in implication.

"Hilshire's okay," Triela shrugged. "But he's a bit... by-the-book, you know?" Which was fine.

Really.

Scully pulled a small smile out of somewhere, then hesitated, and finally said, "I'd stick with what you're comfortable with. Even if you learn the other for back-up." She shrugged. "He might be right, but not by enough to make a difference if you're reluctant. That's my experience, anyway."

"I know," Triela nodded, sounding just the tiniest bit snippy. She didn't need Scully telling her how to handle weapons-selection. After all, Triela was clearly better at it.

"Then why are you still staring at it?" Scully asked patiently.

And emptied another half clip at the targets, to give Triela time to consider an answer.

Triela didn't need time. Or, rather, she didn't take it. She'd never responded well to anything she thought might be criticism, and she'd found that she was having a hard time keeping herself under control recently.

"I'm not," she snapped, grabbing the shotgun and pulling to her shoulder.

Scully's eyebrows rose at that, but she kept shooting, head, heart, shoulder, shoulder, knee, knee. Then turned to watch Triela, face impassive.

It took Triela a second or two to make the target stop seeming to sway. And then another couple of seconds to get the almost imperceptible tremors in her hands to steady.

Well, to steady enough to shoot, anyway. She pulled the trigger and worked the pump, moving through the entire magazine as fast as she could in order to get it done before she lost control again.

Something was off. Scully wasn't familiar enough with Triela's shooting style to say what; the other girl was fast, and accurate. But... She frowned, and checked the target at the end of the shooting alley.

It was always hard to tell how accurate someone was with a shotgun, but the pellet patterns seemed... a bit spread out. Especially for someone who claimed as much expertise as Triela did.

Maybe she just wasn't as good as she said...

Maybe. Maybe it was the gun, after all? "Are the sights adjusted correctly?" Scully asked, wondering.

Oh, yeah, that was going to make Triela happy.

She shot Scully a scowl. "Of course." It was an insult even to ask.

And if that was an insult, what would asking something's wrong. What is it? be?

Scully's frown deepened, and she studied the gun instead of Triela, thinking. "I'm not familiar with the specs of this kind of shotgun. I apologize." And still wonder what was up.

"It's fine," Triela said tightly. Because it was. She could shrug off that kind of mistake really easily.

Usually.

But for some reason it was making her... uncomfortable. Angry?

By way of slightly more apology, Scully re-loaded and said slowly, "So. Hilshire? How long has he been your handler?"

Give her time to settle, if she needed it.

"Since I joined the Agency. He's the one who gave me my name." Not her code-name.

Hilshire was... a part of her in a way.

Scully's eyebrows went up in surprise. "Triela isn't the name you were born with? Or do you mean your surname?"

"Triela's the only name I have," she explained. "No one knows what my parents named me." Or even where she was from.

But that was just normal for her. Why did she feel like it meant something was missing today?

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