Ava Anatalya Orlova (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
krasnaya_vdova) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
riverviewlogs2017-10-01 02:11 pm
krasnaya_vdova) wrote in riverviewlogs2017-10-01 02:11 pm
Entry tags:
[closed]
who: Ava and Bucky
what: Late-night meetings at a gun range. You know, the usual.
when: After the failed attempts at first aid
where: The gun range
warnings: I'll add if needed!
[Ava doesn't particularly sleep well, as a rule. Too many nightmares, too scared of her nightmares, of what they could mean for the people around her. So she sleeps fitfully, steals it when she can find it. And there are too many nights like tonight, where all that darkness gets bottled up in her throat and she has to do something. Sometimes it's sparring against shadows and dead ghosts, other times she ends up at the firing range.
She hangs the paper and then pulls the guns out of her duffle bag, checking them all carefully, setting them in front of her. She can't literally shoot the things that haunt her, but this is easy. One of the things that's all half-remembered muscle-memory and a link she'd never asked for. Finger on the trigger, that sudden break as she pulls, and her aim is deadly. There's hardly any variation in the groupings as she shoots, letting the gun drop at five shots, catching with her left hand, and her aim is still right on target.
She is a lot of things, but she isn't normal.]
what: Late-night meetings at a gun range. You know, the usual.
when: After the failed attempts at first aid
where: The gun range
warnings: I'll add if needed!
[Ava doesn't particularly sleep well, as a rule. Too many nightmares, too scared of her nightmares, of what they could mean for the people around her. So she sleeps fitfully, steals it when she can find it. And there are too many nights like tonight, where all that darkness gets bottled up in her throat and she has to do something. Sometimes it's sparring against shadows and dead ghosts, other times she ends up at the firing range.
She hangs the paper and then pulls the guns out of her duffle bag, checking them all carefully, setting them in front of her. She can't literally shoot the things that haunt her, but this is easy. One of the things that's all half-remembered muscle-memory and a link she'd never asked for. Finger on the trigger, that sudden break as she pulls, and her aim is deadly. There's hardly any variation in the groupings as she shoots, letting the gun drop at five shots, catching with her left hand, and her aim is still right on target.
She is a lot of things, but she isn't normal.]
no subject
[He hesitates a moment, but perhaps she stands more of a chance of understanding than anyone else would.]
Scary, though. Knowing that the choices you make are on you, that anyone who gets hurt really is on your shoulders.
no subject
I've made mistakes. I got someone killed. [Her voice is small for a moment, unable to even say his name outloud.]
Then I misjudged my ability to stay in control, and they're both-- my fault.
no subject
[She's not the only one, he's made those sorts of mistakes as well. Mostly when he had first been on the run, when his sense of Bucky and the Soldier were far more blurred than they are now.]
You have to make amends however you can, even if it feels futile.
no subject
[There's a slight shrug of her shoulders. She's started working out in the Abandoned City, trying to build something instead of tear it all down. It's a bit out of her league, but it's something. Effort.]
I'm just not sure, how to make it so it makes a difference.
[It feels like there's a difference. Between doing good things, and finding something that could possibly amend the mistakes. Even here, with the people she hurt? It gets under her skin. It doesn't stop her from trying, but it's a little too much, sometimes.]
no subject
You're trying to make a difference to the wrong people. You're never going to make a difference for the people you hurt or killed, they're gone, you can't change that. The difference is for other people.
[It's how he manages to keep going.]
I stop some kid getting mugged, maybe it doesn't erase that I murdered ten other kids like him, but it makes a difference to that kid.
no subject
Yeah. I.. think you're right. I guess the only people you can make a difference to are the living, in the end.
[There's a touch of a slightly awkward smile, but she's genuine as she looks up at him.]
Thank you.
no subject
You don't need to thank me.
[Aka, please don't.]
Just don't tell anyone that you've seen me, and we're even.
no subject
I won't tell anyone.
[A pause, an awkward shrug of her shoulders.]
And my username's redwidow. You can just ask me, if you want to track me down.
[Not that she thinks he will, figures part of the point was watching her as much as it was getting the drop on her with a gun in her hands. But it's permission, anyway. And there's meaning to the monicker, something she still holds onto.]
no subject
Username.
[It was the most anonymous thing he could think of for his handle when he arrived.]
Don't use it unless it's an emergency.
no subject
Alright. Only in emergencies.
[Which probably means she wont call him first, considering Ava's definition of an emergency is pretty high, but he offered it, and that matters.
She nods quietly and starts putting the gun and the clips in her bag, taking out her sketchbook instead. Her only real hobby, and she liked sketching the buildings at night without people around. Helped her get out of her head, made it easier to get to sleep, sometimes.]
I'll see you around.
no subject
He doesn't say anything else, there's nothing else to say, he just turns and walks away.]