come_sailaway | Pack it up, pack it in,

CHARACTERS: Darcy, and YOU?!
DATE: First half of September prior to the event
LOCATION: Sports deck
SITUATION: A pirate-sponsored fight club for the sake of ~~beating the shit out of each other~~ bettering each other
WARNINGS: It’s a fight club. Violence is to be expected.

I came to win

Fliers go up around the ship, as they so often do. This time put up with a reasonable amount of tape and written in a much less flowery hand than people would expect, the announcement ‘FIGHT CLUB TUESDAY EVENINGS SPORTS DECK: MAKE FRIENDS AND THEN HIT THEM’.
Anyone going to the sport’s deck after 7pm for the Tuesdays before the excursion will find tennis court set up for an impromptu fight club. There’s a notebook with a pen off to one side as a sign-in sheet, and a small list of rules written in the same handwriting as the fliers.
-No killing or dying
-Respect tapping out
-If you’re learning, respect your teacher/s
-If you’re teaching, respect your student/s
-Cause problems, get kicked out

Off to the sidelines, Darcy can be found supervising, keeping an eye out for any issues.

Battle me that's a sin

In one corner is supplies for fencing and swordplay. Three protective jackets, mesh masks, and blunt training sabers in a loose pile, plus whatever weaponry people themselves supply. There’s a circular arena drawn out on the ground, with a narrower fencing piste drawn through the middle of it.

I won't ever slack up

For those more inclined to hand-to-hand combat, a couple of the punching bags from the gym have been dragged out onto the court, along with focus-pads and a couple of long strips of bandages bandages to wrap one’s hands with. An arena has been drawn out, about the right dimensions for a boxing ring.

Punk you better back up

Over on the furthest side- deliberately angled to face off the ship- there’s a makeshift shooting range consisting of a bunch of water bottles and some mannequins from the Tommy Bahama laid out as targets to shoot at. A line has been drawn on the ground, presumably to stand behind when shooting.

Try and play the role and yo the whole crew'll act up

Right in the middle of everything is an arena marked out for no clear purpose, with no equipment nearby. It can probably be presumed that this is somewhere for people to spar, or more likely, show off in front of everyone.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Sure thing--can you manage a headshot on the mannequin in the back and left?"

He doubts that'll even be hard, but it's still a nice challenge to start with. And watching an expert in their field is never boring.

"Easily, I think." He chambers a round and takes aim. The first bullet just grazes the dummy, but the second hits squarely between the eyes.

"Hm. I'm a bit out of practice."

"Well, isn't that the purpose of this session? Getting in practice? We'll have you back up to speed in no time. Now, do you see those two water bottles on the right? Can you line up a shot that hits both of them?"

He knows he'd stand no chance of doing that himself.

"Yes. But, as it's been pointed out before, I am a creature of pride." And it is currently a little bit wounded.

He's a lot less cocky setting up this shot. He takes his time, and pulls the trigger on a careful exhale. Both bottles jump in quick succession. It's not a dead-center hit, but he did get them both.

"That's a little better."

"Well done. Better than I'd have been able to do, certainly." He's perfectly content to bolster that wounded pride, still impressed with the shot even if it isn't perfect.

"And we're both creatures of pride, and that's hardly a flaw in us."

"Some may not agree, but I think every man ought to have his pride." There is such thing as too much of a good thing, but that's beside the point.

"Are you so sure you couldn't line a shot up that way? Why don't you try it?"

He frowns thoughtfully. "Pick the targets and I'll give it a try."

He's actually not sure if he can or not, but pride.

Number 6 decides to go just slightly easier. He points to two cans that are already close together about midway between the front and back.

"Those two cans in the center."

Johnny loads his revolver, takes a deep breath and fires. He barely manages to hit the first can, and is wide on the second. And his stance could really use some work--stiff elbows and shoulders to overcompensate for recoil, feet not even. Help him out?

"Hm. I think I see the problem. May I touch you in places, to guide you?" See, he can learn.

"right now, you're far too stiff and your stance is not wide enough. Put your dominant foot slightly forward and lean into the shot, not away."

"Go ahead and touch." He nods, moving his foot as directed--or at least trying to. Guidance will get him there eventually.

"I know this will feel awkward at first, but you do need your feet much further apart." With permission granted, this gets a lot easier. He uses his own foot to tap at Johnny's until he's gotten his stance good and wide.

"Now, relax your shoulders and roll them forward. It's acceptable to tilt your head slightly to get a good straight look down the sight. You want to use that to help line your shot."

Johnny slowly moves into the position, leaning into the revolver and taking a deep breath.

He lines up that shot again, and this time the bullet pings between the two cans he's aiming at, easily.

"There you have it," Number 6 says proudly.

"Now, try those three cans on the back row. Start to the left and work in." He wants to see if Johnny can keep that stance while switching targets.

Back row. This will require more concentration, but he tries anyway. The first can goes down easily, but the second shot ends up hitting a bottle closer to the firing line at an awkward angle.

"Ah, it's going to take more practice, to get used to this. I fear one afternoon's work won't be sufficient. Care to make this a regular thing?"

"It does take a while to train your muscles to hold such a position consistently." Even Number 6 is finding his muscle memory beginning to fade. All the more reason to take Johnny up on that suggestion.

"Certainly. I would be delighted. Shall we say once a week?"

Johnny nods. "And...would you care to keep the Beretta? I can deliver the ammunition I have for it to your room sometime. I think it's a net benefit to the ship and its passengers, for you to be armed. And I'm more familiar with the revolver, anyhow."

"Yes, thank you. That's a very generous offer." He glances over the gun in his hand, nodding as if to mentally accept it now as his.

Much as he does try to avoid resorting to violence, the events at the diner made him sorely regret not having a means to defend himself. He won't have to leave anyone else at a disadvantage if he comes prepared. He won't let it happen a second time.

"You can trust that I will not use it recklessly."

"I wouldn't have offered if I thought there was a chance you would, Smith."

Johnny clears the barrel of his revolver, shutting his ammo box.

"I'll reach out to see when is convenient for you."

Pack it up, pack it in,

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