When the fire turns cold, who's here?

[saccharinesugar]

And there is a Misa in all her blond hair and existential angsting and oh gawds why is she holding a gun.

.... hm, wait. This is the shooting range after all. This room practically legitimatizes a person's right to wield firearms.

She's holding a compact semi-automatic and staring at it like she's never seen one before.

Well.

She hasn't.

[Private to faithinthefire.]

Comments

[faithinthefire]

[Mikhail goes to the shooting range several times each week, so that he won't get out of practice. It's usually empty. He comes to halt with ingrained military precision when he steps in this time and sees that he's not going to have it to himself.]

Miss Amane. I will let you alone, if you prefer.

[saccharinesugar]

[She regards him with a flat look.]

... if I prefer? Really, Mikhail, I have no preferences. But if you don't want to hear my moralistic preaching about death and philosophy, then by all means - just tell it to me straight.

[faithinthefire]

You may preach about anything you wish. I owe you an apology.

[He's itching to correct her grip on the gun, but stays by the door.]

[saccharinesugar]

[Misa almost _gapes_. That was... highly unexpected. Then she reconsiders. She and Mikhail had to have different train of thoughts here.]

Apology accepted. You shouldn't have left me alone in the sewers as I could have gotten eaten.

And you ruined my brownie, so now you must bake me a new one.

[Yes.]