Better Than Booze [pg13]

[ωΘĿƒ]

White ambled into the Cafe, A lot more slowly than was per usual. Why? His head didn't hurt damn near as much as it usually did. Must have been all the blood. Quick fix for everything, blood. It was like alcohol, but he was pretty sure it was better for you.

Well, better for him. White grabbed a barstool instead of manning the bar itself, grabbing what he needed from behind the counter and pouring it all into one nice big glass of assorted alcoholic painkiller. He downed the studiously made drink in one very large swig - also unusual for him - and set the glass down with a sigh.

What was he forgetting again...? Oh. Right. Ivy. White pulled up another glass without thinking, but instead of filling it up he reached over the bar for a refill of his own drink, sipping at this one a bit more slowly.

After about half the glass was gone, White decided on lighting up the night's first cigarette.

Hmmm. He should do that more often. There was a lot less hangover crap to deal with when he was nice and fed. Actually, he might not even need a refill tonight.

Looking over at the door to one of the back rooms, he wondered a bit.

Nah. He'd last.

[Iƪƪia]

Already digging into her pockets for a cigarette, yet coming up with nothing but several flakes of tobacco, Ivy stumbled into the cafe, noting how natural it felt to her. It was like a second home. Or a home for that matter. In the past she had moved around a lot, so she was never really able to settle anywhere. It was actually kind of a nice feeling to know that she didn't have to leave this town before dawn broke. Nicer still to know that her "home" was always stocked full of liquor.

Sucking on her thumb, trying to get the last, little bits of tobacco out from underneath her fingernail, she walked behind the bar, acting as if she owned the place. Well, White didn't seem to mind, so it was just fine with her. She grabbed several bottles that looked interesting enough and set them on the bar before uncorking one taking a swig. She didn't bother to move to the front of the bar and take a seat. There was more alcohol behind the bar. Also, it was kind of fun back there; like she was the bartender.

Once she'd taken several drinks out of the one bottle, she decided that it was clearly not the best they had, and so she opened another to give that one a try. It was good, though it could be even better. Of course, she didn't usually choose alcohol based on how it tasted. Sure, that added to the experience, but mainly she chose her alcohol based on how drunk it could get her. That being said, one drink that tasted like **** but had her seeing stars when she was finished would win out over a good-tasting drink that only got her moderately drunk.

Setting the second bottle down again, she examined the others, licking her lips as she did.

"So, what're we doin' today, Cap'n?"

There were somethings that she'd never get bored of, like alcohol and various other drugs. However, it was doing the same thing while she was getting drunk or high that got kind of boring. Since coming to this world, she hadn't seen much other than the inside of this bar and the cabaret. Not that she was complaining, it just got tiring.

[ωΘĿƒ]

As White nursed the last of his glass, he watched Ivy rummage around through the various bottles of alcohol behind the counter, not really giving a damn that she was test tasting them and ill using them as he slowly worked his way through his cigarette.

Remembering her previous search for one - he could hear her feel through her pockets even though she was behind him at the time - he took his pack out and held one out leisurely her way.

"Here."

He crumpled the empty box, tossed it, then fished a new one out from behind the bar too. He always kept extras back there, and now it was a good thing he would have some with him. He felt like a little trip today.

"Hmm?" he looked up, trying to think through both his immediate need to go do... something, and what Ivy had asked him. As it turned out, those things were related. He knew what he was overdue for: some shooting. He'd barely touched anything fireable in nearly a week.

Well; except for that one last night... but that didn't count. Tucking the new pack of cigarettes into an inner pocket in his jacket, he quickly flicked the ash off his own cigarette and got up. He downed the rest of his glass.

"Right. I think we should do some fire practice."

He really doubted she understood the term that he used, but she would follow along anyways. She seemed bored, not that she was hiding it or anything. Any kind of distraction would do, and he hadn't shot with a friend in a while. Why not revisit old times?

And hey... he even had hunting dogs with him this time. He really didn't know what he'd do with the damn things he shot...

Oh well. Maybe the dogs would want them.

"Grab a bottle, miss," White said, now moving behind the counter himself and opening a drawer in the fine cherrywood bar. Inside was a pretty big canteen - about the size you would take camping with you. White grabbed it, then scanned the impressive line of bottles in front of him carefully, eventually stopping at a nice dark-looking one.

By the way she drank, White could tell Ivy was a heavy drinker only. She didn't so much care for the taste as she did the effects. White leaned the other way himself. He liked the different flavors very much - almost as much as the actual getting drunk part. Besides, he owned a goddamn bar. He could get ****ed drunk later, and usually did. Early night was for lighter stuff. Then came the more fun drinks.

White flipped the cap off and dumped the whole bottle into the canteen, whistling as the steady "glug glug" sound grew higher and higher until it finally was just a nice, soft fizz and a heady smell in the air. White capped the canteen and slunk it over his shoulder, then went through the door he'd just come through, navigating down the halls into his most favorite room.

The gun room.

[Iƪƪia]

Having found her favorite out of all the bottles she had lined up, Ivy wasted no time in her attempt to empty the bottle, draining half of it in one gulp. It only burned halfway down her throat, and it didn't leave much of a lingering sensation. Needless to say, it wasn't the best, but it was better than the others, so it would be the first to go. Also, it seemed to be doing a good enough job of getting her drunk. Maybe. Actually, she couldn't really tell anymore.

Setting the bottle down for a moment, she gasped with a mixture of surprise and relief as a cigarette was offered to her. She took it, offering a few drunken words of appreciation, then lit it and took the first draw, immediately feeling relaxed. Or at least even more relaxed than she had felt previously. Leaning against the bar, she proceeded to alternate between inhaling a bit of smoke and a bit of alcohol, and occasionally both at the same time.

When Cap'n spoke up again, it reminded her that she had, in fact, asked a question. However, the response she got was... Confusing at best. What was this about fire practice? She wasn't familiar with the term. Practicing setting things on fire? Did anyone really need practice? No, that couldn't be it. Well, it didn't matter. Sounded cool. After all, in the end, she liked fire, and she liked practice... Practices... Some practices... Of... Nevermind.

Having been told to bring a bottle with her, she nodded enthusiastically and began the difficult job of selecting one to bring. Perhaps her favorite? But that was less than half-full now. Although she did want to finish it. Maybe bring two? No, no, not that either. She didn't want to carry two of them. Difficult... So very difficult.

Then, an idea.

She removed her empty flask from her pocket and proceeded to fill it up with her favorite one, pouring the clear liquid in all the way to the top before capping the flask and putting it away. She then finished off the last of the bottle and slid it down to one end of the bar. Then she grabbed one of the other, fuller bottles, and ambled after him, following him down the hall and wondering if she should question what they were doing or where they were going. As she took a swig out of her bottle she decided she wouldn't bother at the moment.

[ωΘĿƒ]

It was beautiful. It could make a grown man cry. Well... not him. Someone else. Many other people, actually. Lots of people that saw this room cried a lot. But then again, there were other reasons to visit the gun room than for a hunting trip. It was a gun room, and he did more than store them here. There was a tarp against the wall symbolizing just that, but he hadn't used it in a while. It was bleached down and waiting for another crying grown man.

Other than that though, the room was pretty impressive. It was about the size of a warehouse, which was interesting because it was as tall as one too. Not magic. Good building. The room was sunken several meters underground at floor level. Made it both secure and cooler to house all his favorite things in the world. The walls were painted a thick white and covered top to bottom with cases, racks, holsters, storage containers. Anything really that could hold a gun. Most of the collection wasn't even displayed, but the stuff that was could only be the best of it. And there was the funny part... It wasn't just weapons for staring wars. Anything that could fire a round form any time period since the invention of guns was in here.

Ah yes. He liked this room. Even the air smelled explosive. Probably because of that keg of gunpowder to the left but still.

Quickly remembering himself, White tapped the ashes out of his cigarette, turning around to look at Ivy while strategically blocking the entrance into the fairly explosive room. In a very clear and steady voice, he said, "Don't touch anything."

It wasn't a request. Nor was it even a command. The simple fact was, Ivy would not touch anything inside this room. Far be it of him to say he didn't trust her... but he didn't trust her. Not with his life. Not with a room full of firecrackers. He flicked the lights on and started down one of the many gun-rack made aisles, looking for something with enough aim to snipe and enough firepower to take down an elk. He'd need both for what he was int the mood to hunt.

[Iƪƪia]

Having been forced to stop just in front of a door, Ivy looked at him curiously as she was told not to touch anything. What was that about? He didn't trust her? Well that was a damn shame. Of course, she couldn't really blame him. It would be stupid for anyone to trust her. She was an opportunist, first and foremost, even she knew that much.

She entered the room after him, looking around at the walls and shelves in the huge room. It was filled with... Those things. Those things that made the BANG noise. Whatever they were called. Her memory was foggy, but she knew basically how they worked. Their practical application, however, was beyond her. Whatever their purpose was, though, they sure did look cool.

She approached one that was hanging on a shelf near her. It was longer than some of the others and had two barrel-shaped pieces instead of one. After peering down one of the holes in curiosity for a moment, she reached out to touch the handle, but quickly caught herself. Right. She wasn't supposed to touch anything, and for some reason she decided it would be in her best interest to listen.

Walking away, she began browsing the rest of the insane collection. Did anyone really need all these? What was the point? Oh right... He had some weird fetish, didn't he? Well, that was understandable. Having looked at many different types of these things, she, herself actually wouldn't mind trying to use some of these for her own... Personal reasons. It might be rather painful, though with some of them. And if you were to make a slight mistake during... Although she did like to gamble.

After having stared at one with a very smooth bore for awhile, she decided to go look for Cap'n in the hopes that he'd sate some of her curiosity. Trotting down one of the aisles, she continued gaze upon the rest of the collection as she began to rattle off whatever question popped into her mind.

"So what're these things anyway? What're they for? Where're we goin'? These're weapons right? Why're all weapons so phallic? I mean ya got these things, and swords, and arrows... But a'least these uns aren't sharp. Oh, why does that'un have two levers? Whatcha lookin' at over there? Hey, can I have one?"

Stopping next to him she all but forgot what questions she had just asked and didn't really give a damn about getting an answer to them. Except the last one. Yes, she'd like one of these things. Preferably a long one.

[ωΘĿƒ]

White was deciding something - something very hard to decide. Should he bring a scope...?

He knew if he brought the damn thing he'd never use it, but hell if he didn't bring it then he knew the perfect target practice would be too far out of range to hit. Not that he couldn't operate pretty much anything without a scope. Vampire. Good eyesight. However, he was also planning on being drunk, and that did make it harder to hold a rifle steady long enough to aim and fire at something a few hundred yards away.

Crap... It always came down to this, didn't it? Play it safe or risk not carrying the damn thing. He stared at the several lines of different scopes before him, and eventually he made a decision.

**** it. He'd leave the scope.

After that was decided, it wasn't hard at all to gather up what he needed. He didn't organize the guns, but he had a pretty good idea of where each one was and what it did. Actually, he knew where every single one of them was, but that was more a time and age thing than anything else. He wasn't going to track all of them...

Unzipping a long black canvas case, he took out two heavy-set rifles before zipping the canvas bag back up and rooting around in a case nearby for fitting slings. He did a quick check over the condition of the guns, grabbed a box of ammo, and before he could forget, he picked up a scope for one of them.

He wasn't going to take care of a scope, but he doubted Ivy could hit anything unless she had one. He was actually considering letting her care for the instrument made mostly of glass when she came over babbling something.

...to which he only replied, "Sure. Outside."

So saying, he slung the two firearms over his canteen shoulder and half guided half shoved her out of the room. They were burning moonlight, and he didn't much want this thing to turn into a morning hunt.

Making his way up to the front of the bar again, White navigated through the light crowds out of the Cafe and then picked the least strenuous way to where he would be going. After which, and only after which, did he decide to say anything more.

"Let's do this quick," he began, holing up what would be her gun as he talked. "This is a gun. It's used to kill stuff. See that long, narrow end? Sharp beads of metal called bullets shoot outta there, and they damn hurt when they hit you. The smaller one from last night was a handgun. That could kill a man. This one could kill an elk."

Wondering if she even had elk where she came from, he instead used a different sense of firepower.

"Big thing. About five times my size that'll gore you if you miss. That's what the scope is for." He pointed to the telescopic lens resting on the back of the weapon. "You look though it and shoot whatever I tell you to."

So ending the world's shortest gun explanation slash usage course, he handed her the gun, safety on, and repositioned his own rifle so he could carry it more easily. They were hitting forest now, and they would be within range of the unfortunate target animal within only a half hour. In the meantime, he decided squirrels were a good enough target for starters.

Stopping to take a swig of the canteen, White looked around for anything brown and furry. A few trees over, he spotted one.

"See that?" he asked, then without checking to see if she had, he unlocked the safety, swung the gun up on its sling, took aim, and fired. Something a long way off made a splatter sound and disintegrated into a bloody mess... which is what happens when you hit a squirrel with a big game hunting rifle.

"You get the next one."

[Iƪƪia]

After she was given a short reply to one of her questions - she wasn't sure which one anymore - she was basically shoved out of the room then out of the cafe. It was almost as if he didn't want her to stay in that room any longer than they had to. Strange. But at least she knew where that room was now. Maybe she could slip back there one day by herself.

Once they were outside, she was lucky enough to get a better explanation of what these "guns" were. Although, since he was holding up her gun she only half-listened as she smiled deviantly at the weapon, already reaching for it like a child with candy. She did manage to pick up the most important parts, though. It was used to kill people and animals. Though why anyone would want to go out and shoot an animal with one of those things was beyond her.

When she finally received her weapon, she inspected every inch of it curiously. Right, it was easy. You just pulled the trigger and whatever it was pointing at died. Simple.

.. Wait a second... If that was how it worked then shouldn't Cap'n be dead right now?

Only now did Ivy really begin to realize that this guy probably wasn't human after all. It was all still hard for her to get used to. The people here still looked like the people back in her world, but she had to remember than at anytime one of these people could transform into a giant, poisonous lizard.

Well, that ****ing sucked. So guns weren't good for killing everything. For example, she couldn't just shoot Cap'n in the back and then leave with all of his weapons.

Already thinking up other possible ways to kill these freaks, Ivy suddenly realized that they had stopped. Looking up, she watched as he aimed at some small critter in the distance. She was only able to make out its form a fraction of a second before it exploded. Having been told to shoot the next one, she held tightly onto her gun and began looking around for something else small and furry.

Finding a target not 10 feet away, she held up her gun, and after having found the proper way to hold it, she looked through the small, glass circle on the edge of the gun, took aim and fired. There was a scattering of bark as the bullet buried itself into a tree about 3 feet to the left of her intended target.

Cursing loudly, she looked for the critter again, but found nothing. Assuming it must have run off after the tree next to it exploded, she began to look for another. It wasn't long before she found one and, once again, took aim and fired, only for the bullet to once again land about 3 feet away. Cursing again, she yet again scanned the trees for yet another target.

This time, however, she was prepared. She first took aim at the creature, though before she fired, she moved so that she seemed to be aiming to the right of her target. This time when she fired, her aim was dead on as the creature ceased to exist in a small explosion of red and brown.

Thrilled with her newfound skill, she held her gun close to her body as she looked for words to sum up how she felt about this situation.

"This is ****in' sweet."

[ωΘĿƒ]

Watching with only a mild interest as Ivy figured out how to use her gun, White decided to work through some of the weight of his canteen, quietly grimacing as she missed a few times, and eventually getting how it worked with a fair aim and a chunky mess on the side of a tree as proof.

When Ivy summed up her experiences in practice shooting pretty damn accurately, White just nodded.

"Wait until we get to big stuff."

And what exactly was "big stuff?" It was a bit of a well-kept secret, but it wasn't all that ****ing hard to find out, if anyone ever cared to. The gun they were using was a good, big game rifle, but it was also overkill for the example animal that White had given Ivy. Elk? Something smaller than a .338 Magnum would do plenty to even a bull elk...

But elk were smaller and slower than what was deeper in the woods. They were not as smart either, so it made it more fun to shoot the things down. That and, it was more dangerous than elk hunting. Call him a glutton for danger, but he liked shooting at things that could fight back.

And speaking of which, he had noticed something since explaining the gun to Ivy. Something that he really had to clear up before they got too deep in the woods. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem, but hell, she didn't even seem to know what a squirrel was... It need be said before she tried any stunts with the incredibly powerful rifle she was clutching at like some kind of toy, and might as well be now.

"Listen," White said, grabbing the unused strap of Ivy's gun and turning her towards him. Girl had a listening problem, so it was better to make eye contact than risk getting gunned down from behind.

"You can kill a lot of things with that gun, but I ain't one of them, no matter how you use the thing." He took the chance to start on a new cigarette, not really making an effort to keep his warning constant and threatening.

He didn't mean to threaten anyways. He was just making her aware of another of his facts.

"But if you try - and I know the thought crossed your mind - then I promise I'll find you a caliber big enough to stop that body you're in."

The .338 Magnum was a bit small for Illia's carcass. He'd need to get something used in the Savannah. Maybe a Rhino caliber? Or he could try some of the big cat sizes... She did look a lot like a cat. The fur was nice too, but it wasn't a Savannah cat color. It was one of those odd Chimera fur colors - probably one of a kind considering how inconsistent Chimera morphs were. Must be valuable if-

...Realizing he was thinking about this instead of saying it, he took a draw of the sweet, aromatic smelling smoke and cleared his throat, trying to remember where he'd left off talking.

"Oh right, and I'll stuff you too. Glass eyes and everything. You'll look nice next to that slimy snake thing that tried to drown me last Summer. Bottom line, don't **** with me."

White exhaled a haze of fumes slowly, savoring the smell as well as the taste in comparison to this damn clean mountain air.

"Right. So let's look for birds next."

He continued walking, now more of a hike as the forest grew thicker and the hills sloped more steeply away from the center of the thick expanse of tree life.

Let's see now... about three more miles before they got to the good hunting? Sounded about right, but you never could tell. You could get pretty turned around out here if you weren't careful.

[Iƪƪia]

Smiling like an idiot, Ivy's head snapped back and forth, scanning the trees for any other small, defenseless creatures to shoot. Although when White mentioned something about bigger prey she decided to put her desire to shoot something on hold for awhile. Shooting them little squirrels was fun and all, but they only exploded. She wanted a body as proof of her victory.

Nodding to herself, she then bent down to retrieve her bottle from where she had set it upon the ground after realizing that firing a gun while attempting to drink was a bad idea. She looked over at the tree she had hit the first time as she took a drink, wondering with a mild curiosity if it was possible to topple a tree if you shot it enough times. That was when she felt a tug on her gun strap and was then forcibly turned to face him.

She didn't say a word as he spoke, though her eyes continued to trail from him to a squirrel racing along the branches in a tree behind him and back again. Most people seemed to think that she had a very short attention span and, well... They were partly right. Although, despite her inability to stay focused on many subjects for too long, she was more aware of her surroundings than people realized. Though her eyes wandered, she heard every word he said, and when he was finished there was only thing she had to say.

"Dude... You can read minds? That's ****in' awesome!"

Much better than the freak powers she had. Well, the ones she knew she had, at least. She was pretty sure there were more, but she didn't know what they were or how to use them. She was pretty confident mind reading wasn't one of her powers, though. She could hear a lot of weird voices in certain areas and at certain times, but she was fairly certain those weren't other people's thoughts. There hadn't even been any people around at some of those times.

"So that means you are one of them freaks. Huh. Who'd have thunk it."

Of course in retrospect, she always did have a suspicion about him, but she never did care enough to actively try to figure out if she was right. Besides, she was always too busy getting drunk or high. That's what he was to her, after all. A drug dealer that she didn't have to pay. Whatever his personal life was like was his own business. Unless she was curious about something. Like right now.

Obviously, he knew what she was thinking right now, so she might as well say it out loud and hopefully get an answer.

"So, Cap'n, can you die? Like, at all? In anyway? Not tha I'm gonna try anythin'. Just wonderin' is all. I mean I may be a lil' rash, but I'm not stupid."

Ivy only cared about a select few things. Not dying was one of them. That happened to her once, and she didn't really want to go through that again. Death was no fun, and she doubted whatever afterlife she'd end up in this time would be anymore fun than the last time. When she died this time it'd be because of an accidental drug overdose. It sounded like a nice, peaceful death. And maybe that high would carry over to the afterlife with her.

As he continued to walk, Ivy hurried to catch up with him. Taking another swig of her bottle, she nodded at his next words.

"Good idea! Birds. I hate those ****ers. Always taunting me with their powers of flight."

Now more than ever. That other cat form she could change into now had wings, but she sure as hell couldn't use them. That made birds an even more attractive target. Damn graceful, flying bastards.

[ωΘĿƒ]

The cigarette did help with the fact that he had to ****ing hike to get to the place he wanted to go, but like it always did, the clean, fresh, healthy air in any wilderness area sucked away his cigarettes faster than his own dingy, smoke-filled bar air. Made a hike nearly unbearable, as you can imagine. Also made it very obvious that if anyone were ever to run away and at any time White were to be compelled to chase after them, he just wouldn't.

****ing wasn't worth the energy...

Ivy's conclusion to his fact was... sure. It worked. She wasn't the conventional kind, was she? But she seemed like she listened enough to get the gist. He was also getting the fact that she was just about as motivated as he was. If there was an easy way to do it, then why not, but god forbid you put in the extra effort to make something happen.

Worked for him. He took another deep breath, inhaling the precious little toxic air that remained in the cigarette before he heard what she said next. And at that, he took offense.

"I'm not some shape shifting freak," the old vampire growled, more annoyed than truly angry. "I am what I am, and I don't change it just because some human walks into the room."

Odd as it may sound, White had never considered himself changed from his human state, although he had gotten into the habit of calling humans, well... humans. He wasn't different at all. Not one bit. He still felt the same, saw the same things, reacted to the same situations exactly like he did before. He just did all that better now, and he wasn't going to die of old age in the foreseeable future.

He hadn't changed at all in over five hundred years, really. And if he had even changed, it had probably been when he started drinking and doping himself up; but that was a given after a while. He was more friendly half buzzed out of his mind all the time. Felt much better than he did before. And hey, it wasn't like he could overdose and kill himself, and he'd tried too. Still here.

"Now you on the other hand," White picked the cigarette out of his mouth, pointing it at her and flicking the ashes off with a semi-smile. "I get the feeling you aren't used to being eight feet tall and two-headed. Probably normal before you jacked Illia's body."

How did he know this? Well he couldn't read minds like she said he could. Well... he could, but it wasn't fun to mess around with people's heads. Much easier to pay attention and figure things out on his own; and Ivy was pretty much a beacon of "I've never been a chimera before."

Returning the fount of sweet, calming smoke to its rightful place, he then listened to her question. What? Kill him? He really hadn't thought of that much before. Sure, he'd figured it out over time - immortality didn't come with a manual, sadly - but he'd never really quantified it down into a set of rules. The thought had never occurred to him. Yet again, an example of his having not changed.

Sure, he was a vampire. Sure, he drank blood instead of water when he was thirsty, but he still did that breathing thing and still woke up some days and nearly walked out the door without noticing he hated bright light. It was just one of those things you had to deal with, not much of a personality that went with being a spooky Dracula copy.

Let's see... movies. What did they do in movies?

"Ah... I don't get crispy in light anymore." he mumbled, half thinking to himself and half seeing if it applied to him at all. "Steaks still sting like a *****... And metal," the vampire shrugged. "Yeah, doesn't do much, except one of those more valuable ones. Forgot which one. Oh, fire might do it, but it's been a while since I burned any so that might be out too."

Not really putting in any effort anymore, he just threw in his most favorite classic vampire weakness, not caring how many of them she knew. Wasn't so hard to figure out anyways, and what was she going to do? Stake him? Right... He wasn't worried about it.

Like she said, she was rash, not stupid.

"Oh yeah, and I hate those damn religious ****ers. That's about it." Once again, he shrugged. "Small price to pay for being immortal, though the diet gets tricky."

He spotted a bird big enough then - a falcon or some other big hunting bird. Motioning towards it sitting quietly on a tree branch, White shifted topics easily.

"There's one. About twenty yards off."

[Iƪƪia]

Ivy looked all around her, still smiling as she continued to clutch her bottle close to her. A few swigs later and she was humming some cheerful tune that had just come to her. Everything was so nostalgic. Trekking through some woods with a bottle in hand. The only thing that was different was the weapon she was carrying. Where she came, walking was for the poor people, which was like, 80% of the world. So naturally, she had to walk to get to wherever she was going. Even when she had large sums of money, she'd use that for something more important like- well, you could guess by now.

Taking another swig of the bottle, she made an affirmative sound and glanced over at Cap'n. One of these days she should really pick up a book that listed all the freaks that lived around here. Of course, that was only wishful thinking. She knew she'd never be motivated or curious enough to actually do that. Instead, she'd just have to learn by experience. Like she always did.

"Mm, right. Normal," She was uncharacteristically quiet for several moments as she ruminated about her past life. Then another smile broke across her face as she shrugged off the question, "Yep. Th'only monsters in my world were of th'human variety."

It wasn't so bad being one of them freaks, though. Sure prancing around on four legs as a cat with a tail that told you the most sadistic stories was rather strange, at least her current form was one she was familiar with. Hence why she tended not to change into a cat at all. Although there were times when she'd accidentally change and then have a hell of a time figuring out how to change back. Yeah, she should really practice with her new powers sometime too. She should but she wouldn't. Again, not that motivated.

She did take particular interest in his weaknesses though, mainly because they were so weird. Steaks? Like the meat? How did one use that as a weapon? Metal and fire made a bit more sense, and that last one... Yeah, she could totally see religion being used as a weapon.

"Eh. **** religion. Yer entire life yer told to follow a certain set of rules an' if you slip up in th'slightest then yer condemned to an eternity o' pain an' sufferin'. But not by a god, no, by some delusional ****er with a knife."

Then that last part caught her attention. Immortal? As in, unable to die through natural means? That was... Actually, she had never thought about that before. She'd spent plenty of time thinking about her preferred method of death, but never dying at all never even occurred to her. Now that it did, however, she had to admit it would be pretty sweet. Though her thoughts were cut short when Cap'n stopped and pointed to a bird a ways off.

Nodding enthusiastically, she swung her gun around and aimed at the creature - well, a little off, of course - and fired. However, instead of the bird falling to the ground like she was expecting, it jumped back and hurriedly escaped in a flurry of feathers. She took that to mean that she'd missed. This confused her for a moment before she remembered that she'd drank more after she shot that squirrel. That must have put her aim off even more.

"I'll get the hang of this," She muttered under her breath, looking through the target-glass-thing.

Right, it was just like drunken sword fighting. Only with a smaller margin of error.

[ωΘĿƒ]

White listened to Ivy's rant on religion with a bit more interest than he usually had. Not much really interesting these days. Used to be everything was kinda important or relevant to somethin' or another; but as time went on he found that sucked.

****ing nerve wracking. Better to be medicated to the point of indifference than really give a crap about your surroundings. Worked well enough for him so far. And hey, he wasn't such a sour bastard s he was before either.

An yet, religion is one of those things you can't drink and smoke away. Still had that old sharp edge to it, and he wasn't one to notice that **** either. Very forgiving. Probably the horrible fiery death that did it for him. Yeah... probably.

He picked out the words "****er wit ha knife" from Ivy. Hmmm, sounded similar to somethin' he knew. ****, what was that again... some guy with a faggy robe and made of bones with a spear or something.

Oh right. The Grim Reaper. He hadn't thought about any of that stuff in a while. Why bother? Didn't apply to him. Used to be he knew all the stories about that guy and his sickle. Kinda a theme for the time period he guessed. Lots of death. Lots of sickness. Lots of famine and plague. Buncha wars and religious persecution. Oh yeah, Death was a superstar. ****er had songs written about him. Definitely more important than god. He was the reason ya wanted to be good with god - so ya didn't end up on the wrong end of the guy's pointy farm equipment.

But yeah, soon after he figured he wasn't dying any time soon he forgot most of those songs. Now he was sure he couldn't remember a verse of "please don't kill me Death" to save his life.

"Yer getting too drunk," he said, chuckling. Spying another squirrel, he made the same simple motion and shot the sucker dead. He then took another long guzzle from his canteen. "See, I don't have to worry about that. 'Nother perk."

That, and he'd had some more practice.

Still smiling to himself nonchalantly, he almost didn't hear the sound of all the little animals start shattering again. See, when you shoot there's supposed to be silence. If ya keep shooting yer not going to see anything for about a half hour - hence the moving around. Made the wait time less.

But when animals start getting all happy again? That's a sign that you're done walking.

"Quiet," he whispered, holing an arm up so she'd stop too. Quickly, still canning the treeline he reloaded the bullets he'd used in his target practice and motioned that she did the same. Wanted to have a full barrel about this time. Come in handy for when things get tricky.

"Now yer gonna see something big," he continued, in that low, simple tone that really didn't explain all that much the seriousness of what they were trying to do. "Don't shoot it. Don't move. Don't breathe too hard. Gotta wait until it gets closer."

They waited there for about five minutes. The birds chirped and the squirrels ran around cheerfully. Nothing really payed attention to them. Why? Well they weren't all that scared anymore. Right now they were the second biggest thing in the woods.

Then he saw some movement about a hundred yards off. Blended into the trees real well, but it couldn't hide the bow and arrows it was toting.

White tapped at his gun, using the pads of his fingers so he wouldn't make any sound. Then he slowly pointed it at the thing, more showing her where it was than aiming. He pulled the gun down after just a second, ready to go.

Centaurs were gonna be ****ing ****ed, but it was worth it. They were the best game out here.