[open; here there be catch-all!]

[cmdreffingshepard]

Characters: Commander Shepard, Arthur, Booker and YOU! Yes, YOU!
Date: Throughout November.
Location: Various locations.
Situation: Various. This is a catch-all log for all three of these characters. I'll post at least one open starter for each (plus some pre-determined closed threads). If there's something specific you'd like to set up, feel free to PM any of my character journals or pp me on plurk @ frodabaggins!
Warnings/Rating: Pre-emptive warning for some discussion of violence-related trauma in Booker and Elizabeth's thread. Will update this as necessary.

Comments

[washitaway]

"Not sure that's something I'd need to teach you," he pointed out with a slight smile and an unconscious rubbing of his temple. "You handled yourself pretty well when we got ambushed."

Just because he was screaming in pain from that knife through his hand didn't mean he didn't see what she did to that guy who tried to grab her.

[beunbroken]

She shrugged, a faint blush rising on her cheeks. "It's not anything I'm proud of. But from you? That's a huge complement. Thanks, Booker." She nudged him softly with her shoulder.

[washitaway]

"Nothing wrong with havin' good instincts," he pointed out with a shrug. "No one should ever lay hands on you without your say-so." Mostly he was thinking about those things Comstock was doing - or planning to do - to her.

"If you want, I could teach you to shoot," he suddenly offered. Might as well give her a fighting chance, right?

[beunbroken]

"I don't plan to let them. Ever again." She'd fought them, once they'd gotten her inside. But he was right.

Wait. "You... could? You'd want to?" She didn't know if she should agree, or tell him no way in hell. She hated violence. But... She'd already killed someone. She'd seen him kill. She knew that violence, as much as she hated it, was going to be a fact of life.

[washitaway]

He sighed. "I can't say I much relish the thought of you wieldin' deadly weapons, but... Thing is, I may not always be able to look out for you, for whatever reason. Might be best for you to acquire some of that skill."

He paused, trying to figure out how to word what else he was thinking. "Shooting's... easier than stabbing," he finally said. "Lets you keep your distance."

Makes it even easier to take a life, he might've pointed out, but he didn't want to get too far into that.

[beunbroken]

It was strange, hearing all of this from Booker. She wanted him to be there. Always. They both knew she could take care of herself, and Booker tended to stick with the wet work. But...

She looked down, practically able to feel Daisy's blood on her. "I... guess that makes sense." She chewed on the inside of her lip.

"You're right. I should know. Just in case." Hopefully she wouldn't ever have to use it.

[washitaway]

"Then we'll get you started," he said with a nod. "The basics're easy, it's mostly a matter of practicing until you do it without thinking. And aim, aim is tricky. But you've got a good eye, I don't imagine you'll have much trouble."

It was like talking shop - easy to talk about when he was half-drunk, and avoiding issues like weapons and killing. It was all mechanics. Impersonal. He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced back to the broken tea cup. "I gotta sleep this off."

[beunbroken]

"If you think I can do it... You'll just have to be patient if I'm not an ace shot like you right away." She gave him a side-long glance, a wry smile twisting itself on to her lips.

She followed his eyes and nodded. "Yeah. Go to sleep, Booker. It's too late for any nightmares tonight. Drink some water." She stood up, gathering their tea cups. "I'll talk to you in the morning. Good night, Booker."

[washitaway]

"Good night, Elizabeth," he murmured, flexing his right hand absently.

[beunbroken]

"Night. I'll talk to you in the morning." With one last look over her shoulder, she disappeared into her bedroom for the night.