avenir
[av(ə)niʀ}
"The future"
Avenir is an Unnamed from the dystopian society of Marseille who is doomed to a life of hardship after experiencing a tragic event at the hands of the Marseille police force. Once she discovers a chance to better her...
"No. Your right hand goes here, Avenir. There, you would blow your fingers off."
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I grunted, cocked the rifle, quickly aimed, and impatiently fired a shot. It hit the sandbag we used as a target square on. I stared.
We were in a field a two hours's carriage ride away from the heart of Paris.
June 2, 1832.
Enjolras had lent me his shotgun for some practice, and one handful of grapeshot.
Enjolras paled. "Ok, deadly aim...let's try swords, and then we need to be getting back."
"That's it? All I get is one shot?"
"Avenir, what did that sandbag ever do to you?
I rolled my eyes and set myself back up in position. "Just a circle around the target is all I ask. Just a nice little design."
"Fine," he huffed, rolling his eyes right back at me.
I eagerly aimed once more, and fired.
*BANG*
(Reload)
*BANG*
(Reload)
*BANG*
(Reload)
*BANG*
I won't bore you with the rest - reloading took me forever - but the end result:
A perfect circle, each shot equidistant from the center shot, my first bullethole.
"Satisfied?" called Enjolras.
" 'Course!" I called back, watching with satisfaction as Enjolras dragged forward a new sandbag.
"My turn," he said with a smirk.
I quickly sat down, excited, and THEN -
*BANG*BANG*BANG*BANG*BANG*BANG*BANG*BANG*
His reloads were a blur of motion, his fingers were effortless. When the smoke cleared, I fell over backwards in the grass, laughing. The bulletholes formed the shape of a perfect heart.
"YOU SHOW-OFF! I knew you were crazy, but never this crazy," I said, gasping.
He smirked, then said, "Come on, help me stuff these back in the sack before the carriage comes...we're supposed to be 'gardening,' remember?"
"Just leave the sandbags, come on, you promised me one sword fight."
He rolled his eyes, but I caught the excitement in his eye as he drew out the two rapiers from the sack.
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