[ She's glad she left the safety on for the moment, but she'll show him shortly at the homemade range she has out back. Far enough away from the little pond-lake she'd dug for Sharpedo, there's a little set up of hard metal plates and body outlines that seem to be hand drawn and not filled in. The wooden fence is short there and there's some small haystacks for comfort. ]
You're full of shit, Guzma. [ Jill laughs when she says it, bordering teasing but not quite enough to get him to react. ] I dunno. Chris still has a pretty hard recoil with a grenade launcher and I don't and he's a huge guy. Just depends on how you can deal with it.
[ There's a visible difference in his attitude even if it means that he'll avoid talking about what's up, it might be better. Jill is quick to aim and shoot, hitting right in the middle of the forehead of the drawn figure. ]
First remove the safety. You'll want to use both hands and your arm to help you aim.
[Had she not left the safety on, that could have been a potential disaster, but at least one of the two has some foresight. Even if that same person finds it acceptable to hand Guzma a gun in any capacity, but it'll be fine. Probably.
He only offers her a smirk when she calls him out, the teasing not bothering him in the slightest. The next part he gives a half-shrug to.] I'm sure I can figure it out.
[When Jill aims and fires, it catches Guzma's attention. So much so, that he visibly jumps, and drops his beer in the process.]
Shit!
[He doesn't get much time to think about the mess, before she's telling him to remove the safety. Good thing he just freed up his other hand, huh? Looking the gun over, there's clear uncertainty on how to remove the safety. However, he seems to figure it out after a few minutes, he wasn't kidding about his inexperience here.
Following her instructions, he holds the gun up with both hands, however his hand placement is not the most stable. His right hand being his dominant hand holds the gun itself, while he uses his left to cup the butt of the grip, and the bottom of his other hand's palm.
Not an entirely bad guess, but certainly not right either. Unfortunately Guzma's quick to jump the gun, so to speak, and he fires off a shot at the target. He hits the edge of the plate, but its far from the drawn figures on it. However, that hold didn't help him brace the recoil of the handgun as much as it should have been. It smarts and gets an annoyed hiss from him. He lowers the gun, pointing it at the ground as he shakes his left hand, which took the brunt of the recoil's force.
[ She's hopefully that he won't go firing it off all willy-nilly, but accidents happen.
Either way, she enjoys his reaction, twisting the AR in her arms to hold it like someone might a pet or child. Ease and comfort, like it's an extension of her body. She won't make him clean up the bottle, but what a waste... maybe she'll mess with him about that later. Big and bad? Feh. What a cutie. ]
Heh.
[ She doesn't have much time to laugh about it -- even if it's still a little funny -- and she swerves behind him with a gentle hand, guiding both of his up while he holds the gun along with her. ]
You want to let your body take it in. Think of it like any physical activity. You have to aim in a way for your body. Know television and cops and all make it look cool and easy, but that first time is pretty rough. [ She helps to stabilize him and presses in to help keep the brunt of the recoil spread between them. ] Slow and easy, don't just shoot. Enjoy it.
[His face gets hot with embarrassment at his fuck up, but that pales in comparison to how his face reddens with Jill sliding up behind him. Her hands guiding his back up, holding the gun properly. This of course means that Jill's pressed against his back, and he can feel his throat getting dry.
It helps nothing with how she describes handling the recoil. He's not entirely sure if this is on purpose, or if she's completely unaware of how she's making this sound. The intent doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things, and he finds himself more distracted by her proximity to him, and the innuendo behind her words, than the actual advice they're meant to be giving him.
Even as he aims the gun at the target, his mind is buzzing with thoughts completely unrelated to anything to do with shooting this handgun. He's begun to sweat, and mere moments feel like eternity as he tries to focus his aim despite everything distracting him. Jill may notice a certain stiffness to his stance, a rigidness that's not usually there. It's fortunate she's behind him, at least.
He swallows thickly, and finally pulls the trigger. The recoil much better managed this time, and with Jill's assistance he does indeed hit the target. Square in the chest of the drawing, even! A miracle shot, considering, well... everything.]
[ Jill naturally doesn't notice anything out of the ordinary. Instead, she just assumes it's gun jitters -- which she definitely understands! She is just being direct about it all rather than skipping around as some might. As an instructor she can be both beneficial and detrimental due to her directness. She'd much rather be straightforward than loop around a few times and tell anecdotes where they're unnecessary. To her, there was no innuendo and just flat-out advice, naturally.
Were she to be making a joke or teasing him, she'd be incapable of avoiding a few chuckles. Regardless, she is careful to guide him and aim from where she's at. It's no small feat, but she's hardly a novice. Although her abilities are certainly more well-rounded than unparalleled, Jill definitely knows what she's doing.
She waits until the release to let go and shuffle back with a small, delighted clap. ]
See! There you go. Personally I prefer a machine pistol but that one's been with me more than a decade. It's special. [ Which means she's not giving it to him, alas! ] Just keep going. Like I said, it can be cathartic.
[Guzma's still stiff (HEH), but he's holding the pose even as Jill backs away from him. He's quiet too, not even acknowledging anything she says, or even that little clap. There's too much buzzing in that head of his, and the only thing that seems to get through is her suggestion to keep going. To keep firing, and at this moment it feels like it's about the only equivalent to release he's going to get, and so he does just that.
Pulling the trigger again and again, handling the recoil pretty decently now that he's been posed correctly. His shots all hit the drawn target, mainly in the torso, but honestly Guzma wasn't caring for accuracy here. He clicks the trigger a few more times when the clip is empty, before he near mechanically drops his arms down, refusing to look at Jill. There was certainly a catharsis to it that he might otherwise have enjoyed if not for...
He honestly just wants to head back inside right now. For all this was meant to be awesome (and it truly is), there's a whole different issue at hand here. His silence is a bit telling that something is up, but dear Arceus he does not want to say.]
[ Jill is just proud, really. It's not an easy feat and it's something she forgets the intricacy of despite commentary along the way and ease of it for herself. The accuracy naturally leaves something to desire, but this is apparently his first time. Who is she to knock it? She'd needed Chris to help her hone her sniping even after the army.
Her arms are folded as she focuses on his hands, on the target and stares it down like she can will it to perfection. She studies him and his posture and hums in near-delight. ]
Not bad, not bad. You get used to it in time, you know?
[ She assumes he's just uncomfortable after bragging about how he'd be just fine here. It's still impressive for a first go to her, although she's not really sure what she would compare it to. Her mind's still entirely professional, albeit friendly. It doesn't occur to her that there's any funny business. ]
Unfortunately, I don't think you're quite ready for a rocket launcher. But nothing beats the adrenaline rush of using one.
[Finally, he glances at her from over his shoulder, trying his best to calm himself. He's never been good at that, and now isn't any different. If he was good at self-pacification he wouldn't do half the shit he does.]
—Yeah?
[He figures he's acting odd enough as it is, so he's trying to act more casual. The less he can bring attention to himself, the better. He's just trying to figure out a way to abscond from this without making it too weird. The less she knows what's going on the better.
She'd never let him live it down.]
Maybe another time then, huh?
[Of course he's doing a piss poor job not acting weird, considering how confident he was earlier. Sure, maybe it's the fact he humbled himself fucking up the first time, if this were a perfect world, that'd be the case. It is indeed not, though.
He holds the gun out to his side for Jill to take, elbow bent. He doesn't turn to face her, letting his broad back hide him in any capacity it can.]
[ She stands nearly proud, her hands on her hips and beams a little in his direction with a wide, toothy smile. It's clear that her bottom teeth in particular are crooked right about now, but she doesn't seem to mind. ]
I do happen to have one with me here, you know. Can't think of a better reason to make use of it.
[ She doesn't want to believe it'll be a big fight that's worthy of using one. Just something friendly and nice, maybe. She assumes his discomfort is tired to his lack of experience and skill, especially tied into that very first shot and before she's feeling generous, it's not brought up from her.
She sidles up beside him with her assault rifle and manages to take careful, small shots despite it being on automatic; single bullets even though it's easy to let two or four out at once. ]
Guess I'm a little predictable, huh.
[ Jill makes a soft sound while she carries on, making sure to draw the line around the silhouette. ]
[That smile helps nothing, but he forces himself to keep looking at her. Eyes taking in all the details of her face, even the slight crookedness of her bottom teeth. There's something endearing about the imperfection.]
Don't think we might need it for somethin' else? Can't imagine they got the ammo for it here. Not that I'm against blowin' shit up.
[Guzma's far more a pessimist than an optimist, so while he'd be down for blowing shit up randomly with it, he can't help but wonder if it might be a waste. The thought it struck from his mind immediately as she approaches him, standing next to him. His breath catches in his throat—but then she begins firing. Unable to take his eyes from her, he continues to watch.
It's almost a little much, and he doesn't even fully realize how much he's staring at her, his eyes tracing over her features, taking in everything...
Where the hell is HIS emergency exit when he needs it??]
[ Jill is, naturally, still oblivious and delighted about shooting. She's a little red-faced, but it's more due to the light wind and slightly cool weather than anything else. It's just enough that she seems all the more content with the moment. ]
Oh, definitely. It's why I've got two stashed. Although I've been working on a missile for it, I'm not sure if it'll work well. Don't usually carry them around because they're so cumbersome, so I've never made anything for 'em.
[ She makes her own ammo overall, really, if possible even if she's feeling a bit lazy. There's something satisfying about it versus paying someone else to make them, especially considering they're not native to this world. ]
I think I told you, but I joined the army when I was still in my teens. I lived in the midwest -- kind of middle of nowhere in the country I lived in.
[Guzma feels like he needs to swallow again, but his throat is so dry it feels impossible. He needs a drink, is what he needs. Maybe not just a drink of water, but his options are limited here.]
Yeah? Well, then maybe we oughta blow some shit up!
[Yes, focus on destruction and explosions, not how hot Jill is right now. Finally, he tears his eyes away from her, looking at the target she just finished shooting up, his tongue darting over his dry lips to wet them. There's certainly a warmth radiating from him, that's doing a good job to combat the cool air.]
Midwest? [he looks back at her, eyebrow raised.] Was your country so big that the normal directions weren't enough?
[ Sucks that he chucked that beer. Maybe in a few moments she'll fix that, but for now she's not doing much to sort that out. ]
Ah, a man right after my own heart. I mean I'm not against it. Just gotta find the right spot...
[ She probably shouldn't be encouraging it, but it's a subject that she's comfortable with obviously. The AR is used borderline like a walking stick to lean on now, which were she anyone else might seem dangerous. ]
It's pretty big, yeah. One of the biggest, though I've been settled down with my partner in norther part of the continent for a while now. Well, before... I... [ Died. It's unspoken, yet somehow clear. ] Don't even know if there's anything left to go back to. Been considered KIA -- killed in action -- for the past three, nearly four years. Not the first time I've started from nothing. Just...
[It's Jill's fault for making him drop it in the first place!]
You know me, I'm always down for a little destruction!
[That comment about being a man after her heart, however, does leave him a little awkward because it's... not wrong. A normally inoffensive and playful saying getting weaponized against him by his own stupidity. What more of a Guzma thing is there, really?
As she talks about the country she's from, Guzma grows a little silent. His question wasn't meant to make this conversation go grim, but that always seems to be the case. It's not really his fault, nor Jill's, it's just bound to happen when your past isn't a happy one.]
Startin' over ain't the worst thing. Life is full of losin' shit and things not turnin' out how you think it oughta. But at least you got another chance—even if it ain't the best.
[He finally adds. He cannot imagine the amount of loss she must be feeling, which helps nothing when he's not the best at comforting people as it is. And when it comes to family, at least biological family, he's a mixed bag on that subject and wouldn't know where to start with empathizing.]
Heh. That so? I get the feeling that's not entirely true.
[ Messing with stuff is one thing, but being... well, she thinks more of him. It's not the first thing that comes to mind, let alone the second or third. Jill likes him. ]
I mean I did it back when I was twenty-three. Entire city was nuked, so... it's not new. Just would be nice to come back to familiarity, right? It was a long time ago. More than a decade, but it feels like it was yesterday.
[ Don't let it slip through your hands, she supposes is what she means to say, but avoids saying. She cares. Not just about her life or the life of friends of her family, but the people she knows here. The people she cares for here. Loves, maybe. ]
I'm not complaining, of course. What matters is they're alive and they managed to survive, regardless. You know that, right?
[ It's not that Jill is sacrificial so much as she loves ferociously. ]
[He likes breaking shit, it's cathartic, and destruction was indeed his go to coping mechanism for a long time. This would be contained destruction at least! A harm to basically no one.
But honestly, the conversation's emotional shift is certainly heavy, and Guzma feels out of place for it. More and more he and Jill have had these deeper conversations, and on one hand he's grateful. He likes getting to know her more, to feel trusted like this, but on the other he feels like a fish out of water, flopping ineffectively on the ground in these unfamiliar social landscapes.]
Yeah, I get you. Even if you're familiar with doin' it, havin' been there before, it don't change how hard it is. Especially dealin' with everything you knew being gone.
[Y'know, like what could have potentially have happened to Alola!]
Got that damn straight. Not that I dislike things being neat and tidy or anything like that.
[ She definitely can agree to that. She ran on hatred and vengeance for so long. She might've acted justified and righteous and as if it was for the greater good, but a lot of it was there to quell the heat that fired through her veins and made her feel like she'd burst at any moment. It had to be let out some way.
Jill finds it to be frank and honest more than heavy. It's certainly not easy, but she'd be just as happy to hop to another subject and laugh. It's not so important that they stick around on it and address all points or that she feels that she needs to be comforted. It's fine the way it is. ]
It's crap. But I traveled the world after that, just packed up and took off with Chris -- sometimes Barry, but he had two little girls, you know? -- and we worked as mercenaries for a few years.
[ She's glad things seemed to have worked out for him, at least. They took longer on her end to work out but they eventually did. ]
Nah. I'm selfish and selective. I like the cards in my hand is all.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
golisolation) wrote2010-07-17 11:01 am
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You're full of shit, Guzma. [ Jill laughs when she says it, bordering teasing but not quite enough to get him to react. ] I dunno. Chris still has a pretty hard recoil with a grenade launcher and I don't and he's a huge guy. Just depends on how you can deal with it.
[ There's a visible difference in his attitude even if it means that he'll avoid talking about what's up, it might be better. Jill is quick to aim and shoot, hitting right in the middle of the forehead of the drawn figure. ]
First remove the safety. You'll want to use both hands and your arm to help you aim.
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He only offers her a smirk when she calls him out, the teasing not bothering him in the slightest. The next part he gives a half-shrug to.] I'm sure I can figure it out.
[When Jill aims and fires, it catches Guzma's attention. So much so, that he visibly jumps, and drops his beer in the process.]
Shit!
[He doesn't get much time to think about the mess, before she's telling him to remove the safety. Good thing he just freed up his other hand, huh? Looking the gun over, there's clear uncertainty on how to remove the safety. However, he seems to figure it out after a few minutes, he wasn't kidding about his inexperience here.
Following her instructions, he holds the gun up with both hands, however his hand placement is not the most stable. His right hand being his dominant hand holds the gun itself, while he uses his left to cup the butt of the grip, and the bottom of his other hand's palm.
Not an entirely bad guess, but certainly not right either. Unfortunately Guzma's quick to jump the gun, so to speak, and he fires off a shot at the target. He hits the edge of the plate, but its far from the drawn figures on it. However, that hold didn't help him brace the recoil of the handgun as much as it should have been. It smarts and gets an annoyed hiss from him. He lowers the gun, pointing it at the ground as he shakes his left hand, which took the brunt of the recoil's force.
Good job, idiot.]
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Either way, she enjoys his reaction, twisting the AR in her arms to hold it like someone might a pet or child. Ease and comfort, like it's an extension of her body. She won't make him clean up the bottle, but what a waste... maybe she'll mess with him about that later. Big and bad? Feh. What a cutie. ]
Heh.
[ She doesn't have much time to laugh about it -- even if it's still a little funny -- and she swerves behind him with a gentle hand, guiding both of his up while he holds the gun along with her. ]
You want to let your body take it in. Think of it like any physical activity. You have to aim in a way for your body. Know television and cops and all make it look cool and easy, but that first time is pretty rough. [ She helps to stabilize him and presses in to help keep the brunt of the recoil spread between them. ] Slow and easy, don't just shoot. Enjoy it.
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It helps nothing with how she describes handling the recoil. He's not entirely sure if this is on purpose, or if she's completely unaware of how she's making this sound. The intent doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things, and he finds himself more distracted by her proximity to him, and the innuendo behind her words, than the actual advice they're meant to be giving him.
Even as he aims the gun at the target, his mind is buzzing with thoughts completely unrelated to anything to do with shooting this handgun. He's begun to sweat, and mere moments feel like eternity as he tries to focus his aim despite everything distracting him. Jill may notice a certain stiffness to his stance, a rigidness that's not usually there. It's fortunate she's behind him, at least.
He swallows thickly, and finally pulls the trigger. The recoil much better managed this time, and with Jill's assistance he does indeed hit the target. Square in the chest of the drawing, even! A miracle shot, considering, well... everything.]
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Were she to be making a joke or teasing him, she'd be incapable of avoiding a few chuckles. Regardless, she is careful to guide him and aim from where she's at. It's no small feat, but she's hardly a novice. Although her abilities are certainly more well-rounded than unparalleled, Jill definitely knows what she's doing.
She waits until the release to let go and shuffle back with a small, delighted clap. ]
See! There you go. Personally I prefer a machine pistol but that one's been with me more than a decade. It's special. [ Which means she's not giving it to him, alas! ] Just keep going. Like I said, it can be cathartic.
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Pulling the trigger again and again, handling the recoil pretty decently now that he's been posed correctly. His shots all hit the drawn target, mainly in the torso, but honestly Guzma wasn't caring for accuracy here. He clicks the trigger a few more times when the clip is empty, before he near mechanically drops his arms down, refusing to look at Jill. There was certainly a catharsis to it that he might otherwise have enjoyed if not for...
He honestly just wants to head back inside right now. For all this was meant to be awesome (and it truly is), there's a whole different issue at hand here. His silence is a bit telling that something is up, but dear Arceus he does not want to say.]
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Her arms are folded as she focuses on his hands, on the target and stares it down like she can will it to perfection. She studies him and his posture and hums in near-delight. ]
Not bad, not bad. You get used to it in time, you know?
[ She assumes he's just uncomfortable after bragging about how he'd be just fine here. It's still impressive for a first go to her, although she's not really sure what she would compare it to. Her mind's still entirely professional, albeit friendly. It doesn't occur to her that there's any funny business. ]
Unfortunately, I don't think you're quite ready for a rocket launcher. But nothing beats the adrenaline rush of using one.
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—Yeah?
[He figures he's acting odd enough as it is, so he's trying to act more casual. The less he can bring attention to himself, the better. He's just trying to figure out a way to abscond from this without making it too weird. The less she knows what's going on the better.
She'd never let him live it down.]
Maybe another time then, huh?
[Of course he's doing a piss poor job not acting weird, considering how confident he was earlier. Sure, maybe it's the fact he humbled himself fucking up the first time, if this were a perfect world, that'd be the case. It is indeed not, though.
He holds the gun out to his side for Jill to take, elbow bent. He doesn't turn to face her, letting his broad back hide him in any capacity it can.]
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I do happen to have one with me here, you know. Can't think of a better reason to make use of it.
[ She doesn't want to believe it'll be a big fight that's worthy of using one. Just something friendly and nice, maybe. She assumes his discomfort is tired to his lack of experience and skill, especially tied into that very first shot and before she's feeling generous, it's not brought up from her.
She sidles up beside him with her assault rifle and manages to take careful, small shots despite it being on automatic; single bullets even though it's easy to let two or four out at once. ]
Guess I'm a little predictable, huh.
[ Jill makes a soft sound while she carries on, making sure to draw the line around the silhouette. ]
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Don't think we might need it for somethin' else? Can't imagine they got the ammo for it here. Not that I'm against blowin' shit up.
[Guzma's far more a pessimist than an optimist, so while he'd be down for blowing shit up randomly with it, he can't help but wonder if it might be a waste. The thought it struck from his mind immediately as she approaches him, standing next to him. His breath catches in his throat—but then she begins firing. Unable to take his eyes from her, he continues to watch.
It's almost a little much, and he doesn't even fully realize how much he's staring at her, his eyes tracing over her features, taking in everything...
Where the hell is HIS emergency exit when he needs it??]
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Oh, definitely. It's why I've got two stashed. Although I've been working on a missile for it, I'm not sure if it'll work well. Don't usually carry them around because they're so cumbersome, so I've never made anything for 'em.
[ She makes her own ammo overall, really, if possible even if she's feeling a bit lazy. There's something satisfying about it versus paying someone else to make them, especially considering they're not native to this world. ]
I think I told you, but I joined the army when I was still in my teens. I lived in the midwest -- kind of middle of nowhere in the country I lived in.
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Yeah? Well, then maybe we oughta blow some shit up!
[Yes, focus on destruction and explosions, not how hot Jill is right now. Finally, he tears his eyes away from her, looking at the target she just finished shooting up, his tongue darting over his dry lips to wet them. There's certainly a warmth radiating from him, that's doing a good job to combat the cool air.]
Midwest? [he looks back at her, eyebrow raised.] Was your country so big that the normal directions weren't enough?
[So asks the Islander...]
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Ah, a man right after my own heart. I mean I'm not against it. Just gotta find the right spot...
[ She probably shouldn't be encouraging it, but it's a subject that she's comfortable with obviously. The AR is used borderline like a walking stick to lean on now, which were she anyone else might seem dangerous. ]
It's pretty big, yeah. One of the biggest, though I've been settled down with my partner in norther part of the continent for a while now. Well, before... I... [ Died. It's unspoken, yet somehow clear. ] Don't even know if there's anything left to go back to. Been considered KIA -- killed in action -- for the past three, nearly four years. Not the first time I've started from nothing. Just...
[ It feels bare. And lost. ]
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You know me, I'm always down for a little destruction!
[That comment about being a man after her heart, however, does leave him a little awkward because it's... not wrong. A normally inoffensive and playful saying getting weaponized against him by his own stupidity. What more of a Guzma thing is there, really?
As she talks about the country she's from, Guzma grows a little silent. His question wasn't meant to make this conversation go grim, but that always seems to be the case. It's not really his fault, nor Jill's, it's just bound to happen when your past isn't a happy one.]
Startin' over ain't the worst thing. Life is full of losin' shit and things not turnin' out how you think it oughta. But at least you got another chance—even if it ain't the best.
[He finally adds. He cannot imagine the amount of loss she must be feeling, which helps nothing when he's not the best at comforting people as it is. And when it comes to family, at least biological family, he's a mixed bag on that subject and wouldn't know where to start with empathizing.]
Better than bein' dead, yeah?
[That's... arguable, but he's trying.]
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[ Messing with stuff is one thing, but being... well, she thinks more of him. It's not the first thing that comes to mind, let alone the second or third. Jill likes him. ]
I mean I did it back when I was twenty-three. Entire city was nuked, so... it's not new. Just would be nice to come back to familiarity, right? It was a long time ago. More than a decade, but it feels like it was yesterday.
[ Don't let it slip through your hands, she supposes is what she means to say, but avoids saying. She cares. Not just about her life or the life of friends of her family, but the people she knows here. The people she cares for here. Loves, maybe. ]
I'm not complaining, of course. What matters is they're alive and they managed to survive, regardless. You know that, right?
[ It's not that Jill is sacrificial so much as she loves ferociously. ]
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[He likes breaking shit, it's cathartic, and destruction was indeed his go to coping mechanism for a long time. This would be contained destruction at least! A harm to basically no one.
But honestly, the conversation's emotional shift is certainly heavy, and Guzma feels out of place for it. More and more he and Jill have had these deeper conversations, and on one hand he's grateful. He likes getting to know her more, to feel trusted like this, but on the other he feels like a fish out of water, flopping ineffectively on the ground in these unfamiliar social landscapes.]
Yeah, I get you. Even if you're familiar with doin' it, havin' been there before, it don't change how hard it is. Especially dealin' with everything you knew being gone.
[Y'know, like what could have potentially have happened to Alola!]
You got too big of a heart, y'know.
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[ She definitely can agree to that. She ran on hatred and vengeance for so long. She might've acted justified and righteous and as if it was for the greater good, but a lot of it was there to quell the heat that fired through her veins and made her feel like she'd burst at any moment. It had to be let out some way.
Jill finds it to be frank and honest more than heavy. It's certainly not easy, but she'd be just as happy to hop to another subject and laugh. It's not so important that they stick around on it and address all points or that she feels that she needs to be comforted. It's fine the way it is. ]
It's crap. But I traveled the world after that, just packed up and took off with Chris -- sometimes Barry, but he had two little girls, you know? -- and we worked as mercenaries for a few years.
[ She's glad things seemed to have worked out for him, at least. They took longer on her end to work out but they eventually did. ]
Nah. I'm selfish and selective. I like the cards in my hand is all.