fandomhighdorms | Shooting Range, Sunday Afternoon

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Shooting Range, Sunday Afternoon

It had been brought to Wesley's attention by a number of parties that teaching Kenzi how to shoot a pistol was inadvisable at best. Teaching her how to shoot something long-ranged like a rifle, though? That was probably a biiiit dangerous. You know. A bit.

And yet.

He waited for her to show up and practiced on the target, relishing the kickback slightly more than usual. While he generally preferred pistols for a variety of reasons, after the disaster that had been yesterday's phone call with his father, today he didn't mind hurting his hand in the name of relieving some tension.

[[For she he's waiting for, though it's an open range! ETA: And let's call all talk of Faith NFB, please!]]

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After a bit, and text message of, Will B there soon, sorry late, Kenzi arrived.

Rocking on her toes. Grinning a little. Looking... fairly disreputable. "So! Guns today. Yay. I really need to shoot something."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm actually waiting for someone," Wesley said, turning to the source of the noise. "There are a number of other targets just down there."

What? She didn't look like Kenzi! Granted, he'd talked to Kennedy last night and learned about the genderswap thing, but since Kenzi hadn't said anything...

Kenzi blinked, then beamed even harder. Tooo easy. "So I should just pick up a gun and start shooting? Awesome!"

Wesley squinted at the guy. He really could be phenomenally dense sometimes.

"Er, no," he said hesitantly. "Are you, ah, familiar with how to operate a gun?"

Wes. Look at who you're talking to. Note the enthusiasm. Draw a conclusion.

"I have friend who showed me a few things." Kenzi was getting far too much of a kick out of this now. She picked up one of the practice pistols, carefully loaded it, undid the safety, and aimed at a target. Middle-stomach shot, a little off, but at least within the body silhouette.

Wesley sighed.

"Kenzi."

See how awesome he was? He could recognize you by your shot, Kenz. Keep trying.

"Damn." Kenzi was momentarily disappointed, then back to grinning. "What gave me away, the shot or the stance?"

"Bit of both, really," he said mildly. "That and the, er, enthusiasm. Most of the others on island practice because it's a necessity rather than for fun."

"It can be both," Kenzi said equitably. "I think it's fun, though." She got in position again, and added sideways, "This is so weird from five inches taller," before shooting and hitting the target in the shoulder. "Also, why are you still taller? That sucks."

Hey, it wasn't his fault he was ~~disproportionately tall given the height of a certain former co-star turned wife~~ pushing 6'2", Kenzi. Sheesh.

"I'm sorry?" he offered. "Though I suppose the balance would be off, given your, ah, change of form. Perhaps you ought to try with the pistol for a while before we move up to the rifles. Although I suppose the added, er, bulk can only be to your advantage. They're really quite heavy."

"Practice first, then the rifle, yessss." Kenzi's happy dance looked completely dorky on a guy. Then she straightened again and took another two shots. "Hands are different. Balance. Height. Why couldn't I just be a taller, more buff girl for the weekend? The rest of it's only good for impersonating people."

"Well, I suspect it has to do with hormones," Wesley ventured thoughtfully as he came up behind Kenzi to try to correct her grip. Yep, that felt like a totally normal thing to say, to him. "Looser, there," he advised.

"Though I suppose it's interesting, from an observer's perspective, that it seemed to have little effect on your personality as a whole. If the island altered physiological hormones, one would think it would have some effect on the neurological hormones as well."

...yes, Wes, you were a giant dork.

Kenzi gave Wes a sardonic look, and adjusted her grip, smirking a little at the easy entendres there. "Geeeeek. And you say that like this hasn't happened to you. Yet," she added, making the right adjustments. "I'm still me! I just... have a different perspective." And stolen shoes!

"Well, yes, that's what's so interesting," he said thoughtfully. He thought her stance might be slightly off as well, but he drew the line at telling her to spread her feet apart. No, thanks. "You see, it does seem to say something about the distinction between one's physiology and one's inner self. Quite interesting, really."

...Sure. To him.

"I'm Kenzi." She was definite about that. Same way she was definite that Evil Mafia Chick wasn't her. "And mostly my inner self is mad that trying to be cute at officers of the law doesn't work as well when you're a guy.... although then again, I didn't try it on any women." She considered that, then shot the target again. "Although, for the database you call a brain, Toby's still way cute."

Aren't you glad you asked, Wes?"

Oh, yes. Thrilled.

"Better," he said, indicating her shot on that one. "Honestly, the psychology of all this is fascinating. It does seem to lean toward the idea that personality is crafted by influence rather than by genetics, though I suppose there's always the thought that the shift only altered some of your genetics and not all. Still. Fascinating."

Pause.

"Try aiming a bit lower next time."

Kenzi was following this, although there was no way she'd be as fascinated as Wes. She shot lower. A good bit lower. Muahahah, take that, guy parts. Then she winced. "Not as funny as usual.... so you're saying it's all nurture, no nature? I mean. I'm still cute. I still have the same eyes. I'm not any dumber, even with a penis."

"Well, of course," Wesley said. "I wouldn't say all nurture. After all, there are countless studies of children with high-performing parents who themselves experience some... difficulty achieving the same tasks."

Uh. Awkward little clearing-of-throat there.

"But if your physiology's been changed with little effect on your personality, it does seem to indicate that there are other factors at play besides your genetics, wouldn't you say?"

"Well, that one's easy. Too much freaking pressure, or saying 'screw it' and doing something else because your parents are so intense," Kenzi said, not looking at Wes. Mind ticking over that clearing-of-throat, though.

"Hunh." She was out of bullets, so she put the pistol down, studying the rifle. "Isn't your memories? I mean, I'm almost seventeen. I was a girl all that time. That's a lot to get wiped just by a change in genitals and some facial stubble." Which she rocked, by the way.

"Oh, yes, certainly," Wesley granted. "That unquestionably plays a role. But what constitutes memory other than your prior experiences? Or, in another word, 'nurture'?"

BAM.

"How often I got hugged?" Kenzi hazarded. "Or how often I got hit on by guys? Or how guys are stupid around girls giving them big eyes?" She shrugged. "Why, what would you call it?"

He really was good at that. Taller and a better shot. Thank God Wes was a geek, or Kenzi would have to be jealous.

"Well," he said, handing over a slightly more intimidating rifle for her to practice with, "as far as I can tell, those experiences simply make up one's mental store of information, which seem to have the primary effect upon shaping your personality. At least if this weekend is any indication."

Kenzi carefully examined the rifle, finding the safety, and said, "So if I had my memory wiped and woke up a guy, I wouldn't be me?" She considered it, then shrugged. "Maybe? Or maybe I'd be me, and just not remember why I'm me. Petra would be a good one to ask on the male/female thing. Although she'd probably think it was rude." She put the unloaded rifle to her shoulder, and checked. "Like this?"

Edited 2011-09-25 20:53 (UTC)

~~Well, that was something she was better off asking Topher about.~~

"Petra? Oh, is she...?"

Huh. Not judging. Just, yeah.

"Yes, that's about right," he said, though he did adjust the placement of it slightly. "Now, you'll want to look through the sight -- just there. Line your shot up with the center, and brace your left hand against the barrel. There'll be a recoil," he cautioned, "but if you keep your hand firm it won't hurt quite as much."

"Yeah, she's transitioning." Kenzi had looked up the terminology when it came up, and wasn't completely sure about all of it, but that part was simple. "Definitely a girl inside her head, though. At least, I dunno." Kenzi frowned. "We have girl-girl conversations and it's just clear. I guess."

She followed his directions with the rifle, and sighted through the focus, bracing her arm. Then put it down, loaded it, and re-did it. "Okay. Steady hand, and--"

Bam!

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