handleyourshit | TLV Inbox

This is Rosita. I'll hit you back when I can.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

Sounds good.

[And she does turn up, hair pulled back under a cap and a notebook in one hand, a tape measure stuffed in her pocket. It isn't, as they both pseudo-predicted, that difficult to get someone to let them in, and then there's the matter of the setting.]

You pick this time.

Astarion nods his understanding and thinks for a moment, then makes a request of the control panel and opens the door. They appear to be stepping from a mechanical elevator into an endlessly vast subterranean space, illuminated by various bioluminescent plants and glowing crystals. Natural pathways curve up and down, and huge fungi of all shades and shapes are everywhere.

"Welcome to the Underdark, darling."

By and large, it's easy to believe that Rosita's sense of curiosity and wonder has been completely beaten out of her at this point; she regards most unknowns, both people and situations, with suspicion at best and open hostility at worst. But every now and then something hits that combination of so alien that she has no point of reference for it, and nothing overtly threatening enough to put her on guard immediately.

This is one. She doesn't answer right away, looking around with eyes slightly wider than necessary as they adjust to the level of light given off by the fungi, trying to take in as much as she can, as quickly as she can.

"I've never seen anything like this," she admits, and there's obvious surprise and interest there - but she still waits for him to step out first before she follows. "We have caves where I'm from but nothing this big or... alive."

"I only knew it from second or third-hand accounts for most of my life," Astarion says. "The Underdark is vast - a territory unto itself. Entire races build their cities down here. Fortunately I only encountered a handful of them, since they don't care for surfacers," he drawls.

He lifts a second bow and quiver from the small armory he asked the Enclosure to make available, offering them to Rosita.

"I'll tell you which of the mushrooms explode on impact, don't worry."

"Oh good, some of them explode," she answers, practically. Of course they do.

But she does trust him to tell her, anyway, so she just bends the notebook to shove in her pocket and reaches to accept the weapons handed to her.

"Did you leave those races out of this scenario?"

"Gods, yes. All the local fauna, actually - we're here for target practice, not to get charged by a minotaur or disemboweled by a Hook Horror."

It was a very fun time down here.

"A hook horror," she echoes, shaking her head.

"I do learn fastest under pressure, but it's nice not to have to. Talk to me about these."

She shoulders the quiver for now, makes a few experimental pulls on the string. She's not completely lost holding it, but not as comfortable, either, as he's seen her with her knife.

"Alright. There's not much to know mechanically," Astarion says, holding up his own bow to show her. "Limbs, grip, string, nocking point, arrow rest. Do you know which is your dominant eye?"

"I'm assuming it's the same as my rifle," she answers, glancing over his to see how it's different, if it is, from what he gave her.

"It will be. Whichever side is dominant, you use that hand for nocking the arrow, drawing the string and taking aim. The other holds the bow, as so."

He takes the bow in his left hand to show her the correct grip.

This part, she's at least not unfamiliar with; her hands, too, are steady.

His grip is a little different than she's learned, though, and she's quick to make adjustments to match, her hands arranged the same as his.

"Okay. Got it."

Astarion looks over at her hand and nods approvingly.

"You do. Now the arrow -"

He demonstrates, showing her how to nock an arrow and line up the fletching. Then he draws.

"Bring your arm horizontal - it'll feel unnatural at first," is he remembering that? Has he overheard other people say it while teaching, more recently? He has no recollection of learning how to do this. "You get used to it. Aim down the shaft. At longer distances you'll have the arc of the arrow to think about, but that can come with time."

It is not, in the end, so different from her rifle; figuring for windspeed, distance, gravity. For movement of the target, and imperfections in the material. The calculations will be much different and she has no idea how to do that yet, but the mechanics are the same.

She levels her arm, draws back the arrow, and sets her sight line. She asks, "Do the purple ones explode?" and lets fly at one accordingly not too far away, large enough not to miss, close enough she's sure of that.

Astarion shakes his head; the purple ones do not explode. And she doesn't do badly for a first shot with a new weapon, skimming a chunk out of the fungus.

He nods his approval.

"Very nice. If that was an animal, you'd have at least annoyed it."

"That's what I do," she chuckles, "Annoy, at the very least."

She pulls another arrow, sets it up from memory this time and tips her hands towards him for approval on her grip before pulling the string back again for her shot.

"How many different kinds of bows can you use?"

"Longbows, shortbows, and hand crossbows - though I prefer the former," he admits, holding up his own weapon. "This was a gift, actually. It has the Belmont crest etched into it because that bloodline is cursed to think they're funny."

"Ah," she answers, sighing emphatically. She shoots again though, swinging wide the other way this time.

"Richter?"

"Richter," he confirms. Trevor gave him a sword? Very strange. "Did he give you a deadly weapon, as well?"

He nocks an arrow and aims high, spearing through a narrow stalactite and sending it plunging into the darkness.

"Yeah," she admits, "He did. He -"

She pauses, listening for the stalactite to hit, lips curving slightly.

"I've been annoyed with him though, and it took a while to make it to me. Deadly weapon and all. I haven't tried to talk to him about it."

"Is this about his collusion with - ugh, I don't know his name. The annoying self-righteous one with the hair."

"His name is Zack. And yes."

She's too used to focusing past annoyances so her aim doesn't go wide, but she does fire sooner than she might have.

"He was being an ass. But he did eventually seem to at least listen for a second."

"Just a second, though. I've chosen to limit my dealings with Richter to baiting his ancestor by threatening to sleep with him," Astarion says lightly, and aims his next arrow at an orange mushroom. This one does explode, and sets off a bit of a chain reaction with those around it, but it's far enough away that it just looks impressive.

She doesn't jump - doesn't startle - but the explosion has her attention immediately, catching her by surprise and putting her on alert. When she connects the dots though she's able to just watch and appreciate both the distance and the chain reaction.

"Nice," she mutters, and shares her head. "Was that decision made before or after he gave you a bow with a crest on it?"

"I honestly don't remember. It wouldn't have made any difference, anyway, I'm not that easily bribed."

Not that he sounds in the least bit offended - or like he can't be bribed at all.

"And you're still using it," she points out drily. She's not precious enough to clutch pearls at a bribe, nor keeping a useful resource, so she smirks.

"I need to talk to him about the sword. We'll see if what I said before stuck, but. Hoping is how you let people disappoint you."