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 Posted: Mon Feb 14, 2011 9:21 pm
 Once again, Isadora's personality morphed, and she returned to her doctor mode, while still retaining some pent-up rage within it. "Whaht I suhgesst..." she began. She stopped herself, though, pondering for a moment. "Whaht I suhgesst is thaht you stohp f'r a mohment. Stohp an' think. Dohn't y' think thaht there would be sohme people who'd be vereh sahd if you died? I know Claihre would, an' I know I would." Isadora gestured her hand towards herself, then let it fall back to her side. "Youh're a kihnd an' forgihvin' man, Luhcas. Buht whaht y' hahve t' do is forgihve yousehlf. I behlieve tha' is th' first step." Isadora smiled a smile that was genuine in its kindness. "Youh're noht alohne."
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Posted: Mon Feb 14, 2011 9:40 pm
Lucas for all the world felt the part of the crestfallen child obediently listening to a lecture after being caught in the aforementioned crime of cookie theft. As instructed, he stopped and thought, and he shook his head slowly. "Claire would--" She'd understand, right? She might be sad for a time, but she would move past it and return to her daily life. Death wasn't exactly out of place in a crime syndicate, after all. "Claire's got no place to worry for my sake. Neither do you, for that matter." He could understand the want to preserve a life, but to become deeply attached to an existence? It had been years since he had felt that sort of attachment, and he had no intent to return to it.
The only forgiveness he could seek, Lucas knew, was that of the individuals who had perished at his hand, and they were forever beyond voicing such thoughts. He had no will to argue, though, and merely leaned backwards against the wall. When he spoke again, the words came as a murmur, his gaze remaining distant.
"...Did you want to try finishing off your clip?" A brief shrug indicated Isadora's waiting gun. They were, after all, mid lesson.
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Posted: Mon Feb 14, 2011 9:57 pm
Isadora refused to speak any more on the matter of meaning to existence. She had learned something long ago, back in her school days. It was something taught to her by an old teacher of hers, one that had taught her much about life and learning. From that teacher, she learned that one person's life has no meaning - none at all - until that person contributes something to another's life. From that, both people's lives have meaning. She supposed that those words might be wasted on Lucas at this particular moment, so she kept the anecdote to herself for the time-being. Perhaps another day. The doctor chuckled at Lucas's offer to finish their lesson, and she nodded. "'Ell, why noht?" With a much more serious look about her, Isadora grabbed her gun from the table and repositioned her safety glasses and earplugs. The safety clicked off and, while hardly even pausing to see where her shots hit, Isadora fired one bullet after the other in succession. Fourteen bullets left the gun, and once they did, she brought the gun back and blew the smoke from the barrel. In her mind, Isadora would bet that she looked pretty damn cool right then. A few seconds passed, and the doctor looked at the firearm in her hand, a broad grin on her face. Her periwinkle eyes seemed to shine as she looked back to Lucas. "I lihke this guhn!"
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Posted: Mon Feb 14, 2011 10:11 pm
He clenched his fists tightly at the first shot but maintained his place, watching each bullet as it tore its clean hole through the target. It was useless for him to work with armaments if he couldn't tolerate the sound of gunfire, and so he stood stone-faced and attentive while Isadora unloaded the clip. The enthusiasm with which she spoke when she looked to him elicited a faint smile in reply. "I can make you one like it, if you want." It might have been an empty offer made out of some sense of obligation as a member of the weapons development team, or it might have been some effort towards apology. Either way, he was sincere about it. "I can imitate the style pretty easily and maybe make it a bit lighter." She had had some obvious difficult holding the gun earlier, he had noticed, and adjusting the weight wasn't so harrowing a task.
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Posted: Sun Feb 20, 2011 10:59 am
Isadora's joy knew no bounds as the sound of Lucas's offer reached her ears. "R-realleh? You'd do thaht f'r me? Oh, thahnk you, Luhcas! Thahnk you so muhch!" She bounced on the balls of her feet in her excitement. Her first real gun! What a touching moment. After a moment, though, Isadora paused and looked over to Lucas. An apologetic look was on her face. "Uhm... Ih'm sorreh, Luhcas." With her free hand, the doctor rubbed the back of her neck. "Ahbout th' whole yehllin' at you an' all... I juhst get realleh angry sohmetimes. Tha' wahs my reahson f'r goin' t' therapeh." Isa pursed her lips and shrugged. Then she remembered the guns. "Oh! An' wit' th' guhn... Alohng with mahkin' it lighter and ahll... Could you pohssibly put sohme of those wooden engrahvements on th' side? Lihke... Oh, I dohn't know whaht their called..." Isadora frowned in thought. "Lihke... Lihke sohme sort of 1920s guhn. Thah'd be awesohme."
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Posted: Sun Feb 20, 2011 12:32 pm
He nodded, his shadowed smile still in place. There was something mildly disconcerting about the psychologist's enthusiasm towards guns. Firearms were, as he had so abruptly and completely recalled, instruments of death. They gave their holders the power of a god, however briefly: the power to decide who lived and who died. It was not a responsibility Isadora ever needed to bear on her shoulders.
Lucas shook his head slowly at her apology. "...I probably deserved it," he said, excusing her completely. He had deserved something, that was for sure. He could barely accept his actions himself, and were he a little less in shock he might have been quite angry too. The return to the subject of guns was a welcome distraction, and he nodded at her specifications. "I'm not great with decoration, but I can try." Especially if tracing the design was an option... He could trace like a pro.
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Posted: Sun Feb 20, 2011 12:59 pm
Isadora raised an eyebrow at her former patient and current spring-of-knowledge of guns. Yes, he did deserve it, she thought... But she shouldn't have had to resort to such measures to knock some sense into him. She was out of line. Also quite content to change the direction of their conversation, Isadora chuckled. "Oh, cohme now! Ih'm sure you'll do it perfehctly! Ahnd... Thahnk you agaihn, Luhcas." She smiled kindly. "I understahnd tha' it might not be your mohst fahvorite thing t' do at th' mohment, but I appreciahte you takin' th' time t' teach me."Isadora chanced a quick look at the clock on the wall, and she scratched her head, chuckling. "An' speakin' of tihme, I should be heahding back t' my ohffice. I guess..." She turned back to Lucas. "I guess Ih'll see y' lahter, then."
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Posted: Sun Feb 20, 2011 1:18 pm
"It's my job," he said with a subtle tone of resignation. Well, teaching wasn't necessarily his job - not anymore, anyway - but it went hand in hand with weapons development and he counted it alongside his other duties.
"Right. I'll see about drafting a design for your gun. Shouldn't be too terribly long..." Anything to give him meaningful work. The assignment, unofficial as it was, was a welcome relief.
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Posted: Sun Feb 20, 2011 1:22 pm
"Ahll right thehn... Lahter, then." Isadora took off and placed the earplugs and the protective glasses on the table nearby. She carefully placed the gun in her hand alongside the equipment, and turned to leave. Isadora walked at a comfortable pace down the halls back to her office, her hands deep in her coat pockets. Well now... Where would this lead them in the future? Who knew?
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Posted: Sun Feb 20, 2011 1:41 pm
A quiet sound of acknowledgment accompanied a slight wave as Isadora departed. He breathed a deep sigh, turning towards the booth's counter. As a member of the weapons development team - as a member of Team Rocket - there was something he needed to be able to do regardless of any associated trauma. Seating the remaining still-loaded gun in his palm, he sent back another target and raised his arm. The sights aligned, his expression steeled, and his finger pulled back on the trigger. Fifteen shots rang out in rapid succession, the target shuddering with each impact. The clip unloaded, he lowered the gun, staring out at the little cluster of holes at the center of the hapless mark. He stared momentarily, contemplatively, unmovingly, then turned from the booth and moved to put away the various equipment. The little Eevee followed cautiously a ways behind him, picking up her pace when he proceeded into the hall to leave.
A drink was in order. Something painfully strong.
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