A comforting failure (Open, Grounds)

[serrulata.livejournal.com]

He's never been very good at taking advice. Even from the people he'd grown close to, even from Kusuriyuri, he's just never been able to take someone else giving him pointers, no matter how necessary, on how he might make his life a little bit easier.

But he recognized the necessity, and decided to supplement good advice with doing something he sucked at even more.



There were still targets set up near the lake from the last time Yukimura had arranged an informal archery butt, and Kurama was there now, with knives, shuriken, two different kinds of bow, and what would have been too many arrows for some people, but he knew his weaknesses well enough to know half of them would get broken or lost, and the other half he'd set on fire or throw into the lake when he was done.

He chose projectiles for two reasons. First, and more important, because his aim was 100% accurate with anything that wasn't a bow and he needed the assurance that he at least could brag (internally) about something. Second, he needed to recalibrate his vision to make up for the lack of his right eye. He could feel it growing back slowly, an aching itch in the socket he longed to scratch at, which annoyed him even more that he couldn't.

The knives and shuriken sailed far off target for the first few tries, but after a little while the closest target was almost black with them. Satisfied, he set them aside for now. Working on a target only 50 yards away was, to say the least, rather humiliating, but he supposed part of this exercise was to learn actual humility and not the mock-humble face he put on when he was really just sublimely pissed off.

I'm two thousand plus another half Gods damned years old, he thought furiously, the arrow he'd loosed falling pitifully to his feet less than a yard away. He grabbed another, which sailed wide over the target. The third he had to dodge at the last second before it went right through the top of his head.

It was going to be a long day.


_{((OOC: Hecklers and cheerleaders would be most welcome.))}

Comments

[junkyard-hunter.livejournal.com]

Bobby grimaced, rotating his shoulder. He was gonna pay for that one in the morning. "Thanks. And I'll send over an owl to see if he has some he can spare."

"Thanks. A demon posessed my wife, Karen. I knew a little, but not enough to save her. I had only done low-grade exorcisms, cleaned out vampire nests, things like that. I hadn't handled a powerful demon. I.. she.." Bobby flung the knife again, this time with even more force. "She died. Since then.. it's all I've done. I learned everything I could about Devils' Traps, hex boxes, all the more powerful stuff."

He walked over to the target this time, retrieving the knife. "So what's got you so damn edgy?"

[serrulata.livejournal.com]

Kurama picked up one of the shuriken, twiddling it between his fingers.

"I'm stagnating. I killed one of my enemies - that's how, you know," he gestured vaguely to the eyepatch, "and now I don't know what to do. It was a stupid move to go after him, for one thing, but he was something to obsess over." He flicked his wrist and the shuriken went flying, landing with a satisfying thunk in the center of the target. Those, he could manage. "I've lived in this body for thirty two years, and I still don't know how the hell you humans do it without going insane."

[junkyard-hunter.livejournal.com]

"I thought as much," he said.

Bobby carefully picked up one of the shuriken, turning it over between his fingers. He gave an experimental fling. It glinted in the light before bouncing off the target and laying in the grass. He swore under his breath.

"Mm. I know the feeling. Look, you took the son of a bitch out. Now you focus on the important stuff. Loved ones, family, things like that. Another fight is always around the corner."

[serrulata.livejournal.com]

"Adjust your stance a little," Kurama handed him another shuriken, "and throw from the elbow. The trick is getting it to spin fast enough that at least one point will hit the board." He demonstrated, his hand down and close, flicking another shuriken into the target.

"It's the getting used to having important things that's the issue," he said, toeing at the grass a little. "Loved ones and family have only been important for less than half a century out of about two and a half thousand years. It's weird."

[junkyard-hunter.livejournal.com]

He took another one and copied Kurama's stance and the angle of his arm. The next one landed shallowly on the target and he grunted.

"So the issue is that it's something new. I can't speak to a timeline like yours, but I can tell you from experience that you gotta hang on to them." The shuriken thunked into the target a little straighter this time.

"Like Sam and Dean. They're not mine, but damnit I love those boys like they were. They got me.. through a pretty rough patch." He wasn't quite ready to admit he was suicidal while stuck in that wheelchair.

[serrulata.livejournal.com]

"Human or Demon, it's the same." He picked up the bow again, took careful aim, and loosed. This time it almost made the center. "We all have things we regret, and don't want to admit we regret. Even the most amoral pit dwellers will wish some things had changed. Do you know why demons go after humans so often?"

[junkyard-hunter.livejournal.com]

Bobby flung another shuriken. Not bad at all for an old fart.

"I'm guessin' you mean your kind of demon and not the black smoke and posessing kind I'm used to running up against. No, no idea."

[serrulata.livejournal.com]

Kurama's smile was a bit on the grim side. "I can't speak for all of us; Kitsune have better relations with humans as a rule anyway, but the kind you fight I've met."

Another arrow, next to the most recent shuriken. "And, aside from a control group Reikai puts out to make themselves look good, we tend to go after you because we're jealous."

[junkyard-hunter.livejournal.com]

"Jealous?" The next shuriken went a bit wide. "Of what?"

He picked up the knife again. "I thought they went after humans because of good old fashioned hate."

[serrulata.livejournal.com]

Kurama looked at him for a moment. "Hate is spawned by many things, Bobby. We hate humans because all this," he gestured, the world at large falling under his hands, "this planet, these lands, were ours long before humans were more than walking lunchboxes. Imagine what would happen if cows suddenly gained sentience and prayed long and hard enough to get all of the humans banished to an infertile, apocalyptic other realm while they proceed to raze forests and pollute seas and build cold, dead cities."

Another arrow went singing into the target, this time just on the edge of the bullseye. "Only a few demons are fallen angels. The rest of us were the original babes of the earth, crawled right out of the mud of creation."

[junkyard-hunter.livejournal.com]

"There's only one fallen angel we've been worrying about back home," he said, letting the knife fly. "Lucifer."

It was a fairly radical departure from the nature of demons as far as Bobby was concerned; but if anyone would know the real nature of demon history - it would be a damned demon.

"You ever had anyone come here from your world, someone you knew?" Something had been troubling him about Sam, and if Kurama had been around the school long enough, he might have some insight.

[serrulata.livejournal.com]

Kurama pulled a face. "He's such a pretentious dick," he said of Lucifer. At least where he was from, Lucifer was little more than a laughing stock. "And yes, a few, ally and enemy alike. Though there's only one now, and he's thankfully in the former group." Losing Hiei still stung, but supposed the little fire demon had other plans.

[junkyard-hunter.livejournal.com]

The expression made him chuckle.

"Any of 'em come back a little ahead of you time-wise? Sam came back.. one of the boys.. and he gets awful quiet when I ask him about what happened. The kid's got a terrible poker face," he noted, fiddling with another knife.

"I get the feelin I don't get outta this one alive."

[serrulata.livejournal.com]

What an awful thought. "I've been in the reverse position, an old partner of mine came here a year after I did; he'd been dead almost two centuries." he considered a moment. "If you really want to know when your time is up, you could ask Ryuk. He's a horrible excuse for a Shinigami, but bribe him with enough apples and I'm sure he'd be glad to let you know."

[junkyard-hunter.livejournal.com]

He smirked, "That smart assed son of a bitch showed up in the Sorting Room. I've got a feelin' he'd opt to be more difficult about it than come right out with the truth."

Bobby let out a breath. "Sam's a good kid. He's had a damn rough go of it lately. I should just tell him it's ok and be done with it," he pulled a face, "But I ain't never been good with stuff like that. And Hunters aren't exactly known for their long lifespans."