shatterverse | (no subject)

Rachel scowls at her, annoyed at the interruption.

But she still lifts the rifle and squints down the sight again.

"Better." Is too amused. Even dry.

She knows Rachel isn't following yet.

Rachel makes a noise. It may have been a growl. The human throat isn't really made for it, but she does a good job with what she has.

Another shot rings through the air. She scowls at the result but is already shifting to reload.

She waits until just before the next trigger pull.

"I meant being a teenager." Completely casual.

Her finger stumbles on the trigger and doesn't quite pull.

Jo's getting another blue-eyed glare. But Rachel doesn't lower the rifle.

"I lost twenty pounds and had to go shopping all over again. That the 'everything' you're talking about?"

"Guess I missed where this was just binge dieting?"

"Besides that, nothing else has changed," Rachel snaps, angry. She starts to turn toward Jo, combative and defensive.

And stops herself, taking the stance again and glaring fire at the target.

Before Jo can answer, she snaps off a shot. It's wild, but it makes her feel better.

Jo doesn't believe it.

But she might have smiled.

Rachel continues scowling, taking clips to reload, firing off again.

Nothing's different. Part of that is the problem. She's back in her own, original skin, the same Rachel that died, and everything. is. exactly. the same.

That shot is closer.

"That's shit."

Cartridge.

"I'd be better if you weren't distracting me like a jerk," Rachel growls.

"You'd be worse in the long run."

Is honest. "Load."

"You'll be worse in the short if you don't shut up," Rachel grumbles.

But she loads, aims - adjusts her stance - and fires again.

"Then shoot me."

"Don't tempt me."

Softer and maybe a little hesitant. It takes a little longer for the next shot to fire, too.

She knows.

She's too sharp, too precise.

She knows what she just shot Rachel with.
She doesn't need a gun to hit the bullseye.

"Then say you don't want to talk about it, but don't lie to me."

Rachel can do it later. Not here. Not on the range.
When Jo's back to lying to herself and everyone, too.

Rachel - stops.

She's not annoyed. She's not irritated. When she drops the gun to her side and turns to Jo, she's angry.

"I didn't lie to you."

Even if, sometimes, she'd like to.

"Two years isn't nothing."

And even if it's for the better, "It's still a change."

Rachel frowns at her.

"What the hell do you want me to say? You want me to complain about how hard it is to look this way? You just said not to lie to you."

Jo who's the queen of not answering.
Or of choosing answers that don't tell.

Until she can't talk and people can't not notice.

She shrugged. "Easier and better is not a wrong answer."

Frown turns to scowl very easily.

"If it isn't easier it's not harder. It's how I look Jo."

And since when has that ever been important?

"And it's new for everyone looking at you who is not Tobias."

Should we not mention the fact they have classless friends?

Rachel blinks, surprise flitting over her face. And her anger, her scowl, covers any possible hurt.

"If it bothers you so damn much, don't look at me."

Certain classless 'friends' are never, have never, and never will be at the forefront of her mind.

Except wherein they matter.

They wouldn't even come to mind if they didn't.

"If I cared you wouldn't be here." And she wouldn't ask.

This isn't helping Rachel's frown. And anger is always easier than... well, anything else.

"Then what do you want?"

Talking, explaining, without having to answer specific questions... that's also a lot harder than anger.