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Post by Deleted on Mar 24, 2017 11:05:15 GMT
"I don't know why I'm surprised anymore..." Jason inspected the gun in his hand, though it really couldn't be called a gun anymore. Nor was there much to inspect. The thing had been butchered beyond recognition and he wasn't even sure how this guy even managed to do it. He must be a pretty powerful wielder to be able to pull that off. Either that or he had very little control over what he was doing. "Seriously, you're lucky this hasn't blown up in your hand yet. Has it?" He looked up at the white-haired boy before him, who just smiled sheepishly and held up a gloved hand. "Nope. Still flesh." Jason shook his head. "You're lucky." He repeated the words a little more firmly as he held the gun up by the barrel, eyeing it cautiously as if the thing could explode at any moment. Given that it still held a faint white glow around the chamber, it was a strong possibility. "Can you maybe like, stop breaking your shit. You need to learn to control that gift of yours better."Ehris shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, my teacher said the exact same thing. He also said that you have incredible patience to keep fixing it so..." The weaponsmith sighed and shook his head and made his way over to his desk, unceremoniously dropping the butchered gun on his desk behind the counter. He turned and leaned against the counter, facing Ehris again. "Anything else you've butchered that you need me to fix?"Ehris pondered the question for a moment before shaking his head. "Pretty sure that's all." Jason raised a brow. "Pretty sure?" "I'll come back when I break something else." "Get out and go to school or I won't be repairing anything."Ehris grinned and turned to leave the shop. "Yes, yes. I'm going." "Come back this afternoon. Should be done by then."There was a quiet murmur of acknowledgement from Ehris as the door shut behind him, and Jason sighed, walking around the counter to sit at his desk. "Goddamn kids can't keep their shit in one piece for a week..."Katya Kanazaki | WORDS: 359
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Post by Katya Kanazaki on Mar 24, 2017 12:17:39 GMT
精神病の愛 You knew the game and played it, it kills to know that you have been defeated, I see the wires pulling while you're breathing. TAG @jason WORDS count here NOTES say something nice | Just go to town, a tiny voice in her head whispered. A little air, here and there compare to the stale one her room had was all she needed. It insisted, just get away from the bright screen blaring from her laptop from one of the games she’s been preoccupying herself on. Final fantasy… the latest game she had been busying herself ever since she got curious enough to try it. Steam sales does have it uses when boredom comes calling.
Though for a girl whom…. Long began her collection of games. To think she’d be bored enough to abandon one game for another. Who was she kidding herself. Of course it was bound to happen once she realized it can no longer amuse her as well as it did before she got it. A soft gust left the child’s lips. Exhaling the chill she managed to breathe in from taking a deep breath of the cool noon air.
Spring… how the child scoff at the notion. She spotted no signs of it around her. She still saw ice encrusted on the side walk, piles of small rocks after the ground got salted to keep people from slipping on the frozen ground. At the very least she was thankful for was there wasn’t anymore snow storms. She sighed in relief at that. Passing by on the sidewalk, literally weaving through a small train of people also walking along the same path. The girl took her time to look around. Eyes as blue as the clear sky lazily roamed towards the collection of tiny specialty stores dotting the sides of the street. One had Asian goodies in stock, a note formed in her mind to go back there on her way home. And then…another that literally made her stop once her eyes connected to a finely crafted Japanese katana, clearly forged by a mix of steel and carbon, the way it shone as if reflected her face made the child wonder if her brother would be interested. She never had a reason to be interested in weapons. Even after…that debacle back home at her former school. The child merely shook her head, weighing her options she decided to humour it by walking inside.
Weapons… it was a weapon shop after all, dotted the walls and shelves. Her inner curiosity urged her to walk over to the gun area. In which she did, practically right over to a black tinted sniper rifle. “PSGI….” The young ‘boy’ mumbled to herself.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 25, 2017 1:01:25 GMT
Jason had pulled apart the ruined weapon, the pieces lined up neatly on the surface as he just glared at them as if it would fix itself and Ehris would stop blowing it up if he did so for long enough. After a few moments, he just sighed and got to work, straining his eyes to hopefully make it a little more durable against Ehris' destructive tendencies. He has been working for perhaps a half hour when he heard the gentle bell chime of someone opening the door to the shop. He didn't need to look up from his work to know where they were in the store. His heightened hearing had told him exactly where they were, even before they muttered the name of a gun. A German sniper rifle in particular. "Looking for anything in particular?" He said from behind the counter, still focused on the half repaired gun before him. "Or have you already found it?" He looked up from his work to focus on the boy standing by one of the walls displaying the formerly mentioned rifle. "You look a little young to be handling a gun, though."Katya Kanazaki | WORDS: 192 |
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Post by Katya Kanazaki on Mar 25, 2017 10:20:21 GMT
精神病の愛 You knew the game and played it, it kills to know that you have been defeated, I see the wires pulling while you're breathing. TAG @jason WORDS count here NOTES say something nice | Since she was a young girl Kat found an interest in all manner of range weaponry. Bows, guns just to name a few from the top of her mind. Her gaze lingered on the rifle for a few more moments until a voice broke her out of it. She blinked, craning her neck over to the counter where a man with shockingly white hair worked. The first thing that caught the child’s eyes was the man’s platinum colored hair next was the scar lingering on the man’s eye. It didn’t look like a scar made from a wound. It was too…flat for that. Like it was printed on his skin instead of having a weapon rake it through.
Too young… she wanted to retort that. She wished she heard back home, right before that incident in her former school happened. Still she carried fond memories of that place even from because of it. An eyebrow rose, tilting her head to the side as carefully thought of a reply. “I was just…looking…” She hesitantly answered. She wasn’t about to state she knew how to handle one, who in their right mind would believe a child could handle a weapon made for soldiers? Grown men and woman whom were trained to fight in the army. Certainly not her. Shaking off the thought she hesitantly raise her gaze to look at him again. “…I was wondering about the katana you had on display by the window..” She didn’t have any reason to own a gun. She couldn’t find one, but still the child missed handling the cold steel on her fingertips, and hearing the satisfying thunk of bullet burning through a marked center.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 25, 2017 11:36:13 GMT
[nospaces] [attr="class","dna2"] [attr="class","title"]
I'm tired of trying to justify
Every decision that I make
[attr="class","posty"] [attr="class","posttext"]
The boy said that he was only looking, and Jason made a small sound of acknowledgement before going back to the disaster before him. Though he didn't get very far when the boy spoke again, asking about the katana displayed in the window. He blinked and looked towards the window where the aforementioned sword was displayed. Oh, that katana. He had actually forgotten that it existed. Since most of his customers were after firearms of some description, anything else tended to go unnoticed, and as such, he usually forgot about them and they ended up collecting dust until someone brought his attention to it, or he tripped over it in the storeroom.[break]
"That one?" Jason put down the piece of what used to be a good quality gun down and stood from his desk, willing his senses to function as normal once again. He walked around the counter to the front of the store, stepping around a shelf to get to the window display. He hesitated for a second before taking hold of the blade's hilt, assuring himself that he wouldn't be assaulted with any nasty memories from something that he himself created a few months back and hadn't been touched since.[break]
He stepped back out, testing the weight of the blade in his hand before offering it to the boy. "I actually forgot that it existed, to be honest. Most people come in looking for firearms so I don't usually dabble in the art of forging blades."
[attr="class","harjacredit"] harja[newclass=".dna2 *::-webkit-scrollbar,.dna2 *::-webkit-scrollbar-track,.dna2 *::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb"]border:0;background:transparent;[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2 *::-webkit-scrollbar"]width:3px;[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2 *::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb"]background:#ececea;border-radius:10px;[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2 *"]box-sizing:border-box[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2"]margin:auto;width:450px;height:350px;background:#212121;position:relative;overflow:hidden;z-index:2;font-family:'open sans';font-size:10px;color:#212121;[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2::after"]content:'';position:absolute;top:0;left:0;width:100%;height:100%;background:url(https://s30.postimg.org/b4mks48kx/jason_450x350.jpg);z-index:-1;transition:.5s;[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2:hover::after"]opacity:.7;[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2::before"]content:'';position:absolute;top:250px;left:-40%;width:160%;height:100%;background:white;border-radius:100%;box-shadow:0 0 3px white;transition:.5s;[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2:hover::before"]top:90px;[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2 .title"]position:absolute;bottom:0;left:0;padding:10px 15px;text-transform:uppercase;transition:.5s;height:70px;transform:translatey(0);font-family:'raleway';[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2 .title b"]font-size:25px;display:block;letter-spacing:-1px;[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2 .title i"]font-size:12px;font-style:normal;[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2:hover .title"]transform:translatey(-265px);color:white;[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2 .posty"]position:absolute;bottom:10px;left:10px;width:430px;transform:translatey(230px);transition:.5s;text-align:justify;[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2:hover .posty"]transform:translatey(0);[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2 .posty b"]color:#6c9fbe;[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2 .posttext"]height:220px;padding:10px;width:330px;overflow:auto;[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2 .notes"]position:absolute;bottom:10px;right:0;width:90px;text-align:left;[/newclass] [newclass=".harjacredit"]text-align:center;font-size:8px;font-family:arial;text-transform:uppercase;[/newclass] [googlefont=Open+Sans:400,700][googlefont=Raleway:400,700] |
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Post by Katya Kanazaki on Mar 25, 2017 12:07:24 GMT
精神病の愛 You knew the game and played it, it kills to know that you have been defeated, I see the wires pulling while you're breathing. TAG @jason WORDS count here NOTES say something nice | Until it gathers dust… the idea brought about a wince from the child. A shame really, she might not have an interest in the art. But she still came from a family who were fond of it. Examples were her father and grandfather respectively. Then add her brother as well in the mix. Nearly all the men in their family grew attach to their swords. It was after all a noble art spanning so many generations in her homeland of the rising sun. But still the young girl understood how so many of her modern day generation prefer fire arms than towards weaponry that can sliced off a man’s arm. A bullet is far faster than a sword as the saying goes.
The same one she follows to a T which actually holds its point. A gun would kill a swordsman faster before he/she gets a chance to go within an inch. She respected that, the child casually eyed the man as he stood to walk over to the stand holding the very sword she asked.
Shame really, the craftsmanship was expertly made. She noted, hesitating for only a moment before she braved it to walk over. Nodding quietly to his query the child’s poker faced expression barely broke. But her eyes shone a keen form amazement upon seeing the blade up close. “Really?... it looks well made though…” The girl softly spoke, catching sight of the man’s split second hesitation before brushing it off. It wasn’t her face to comment on it. She barely knew the man. “…You made all the guns here?” She couldn’t hold back the curiosity masking her heavily Asian accented tone.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 26, 2017 0:56:18 GMT
[nospaces] [attr="class","dna2"] [attr="class","title"]
I'm tired of trying to justify
Every decision that I make
[attr="class","posty"] [attr="class","posttext"]
"Well, I'm glad you think so." Jason said, placing a hand on his hip. "Too bad that no one else really has an interest in 'em." When he asked if he had made all the guns in the store, Jason nodded. "A few are stock that I order in but yeah most of them I made." He said it as if being a skilled gunsmith at the age of 25 wasn't a great feat. He hadn't been told that such was a pretty incredible accomplishment in his past, so he never viewed it as such. "I'm usually commissioned for custom made firearms by...certain clients though." He chose his words carefully around this boy. He wasn't about to tell him that he was making magical guns -- for lack of a better word -- to some random customer. There was a chance that he came from the academy but there wasn't really any way to know at this point. "You seem to have a good eye for arms."
[attr="class","notes"] notes Shitty post -_-;;[break][break] Katya Kanazaki [attr="class","harjacredit"] harja[newclass=".dna2 *::-webkit-scrollbar,.dna2 *::-webkit-scrollbar-track,.dna2 *::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb"]border:0;background:transparent;[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2 *::-webkit-scrollbar"]width:3px;[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2 *::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb"]background:#ececea;border-radius:10px;[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2 *"]box-sizing:border-box[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2"]margin:auto;width:450px;height:350px;background:#212121;position:relative;overflow:hidden;z-index:2;font-family:'open sans';font-size:10px;color:#212121;[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2::after"]content:'';position:absolute;top:0;left:0;width:100%;height:100%;background:url(https://s30.postimg.org/b4mks48kx/jason_450x350.jpg);z-index:-1;transition:.5s;[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2:hover::after"]opacity:.7;[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2::before"]content:'';position:absolute;top:250px;left:-40%;width:160%;height:100%;background:white;border-radius:100%;box-shadow:0 0 3px white;transition:.5s;[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2:hover::before"]top:90px;[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2 .title"]position:absolute;bottom:0;left:0;padding:10px 15px;text-transform:uppercase;transition:.5s;height:70px;transform:translatey(0);font-family:'raleway';[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2 .title b"]font-size:25px;display:block;letter-spacing:-1px;[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2 .title i"]font-size:12px;font-style:normal;[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2:hover .title"]transform:translatey(-265px);color:white;[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2 .posty"]position:absolute;bottom:10px;left:10px;width:430px;transform:translatey(230px);transition:.5s;text-align:justify;[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2:hover .posty"]transform:translatey(0);[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2 .posty b"]color:#d351fc;[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2 .posttext"]height:220px;padding:10px;width:330px;overflow:auto;[/newclass] [newclass=".dna2 .notes"]position:absolute;bottom:10px;right:0;width:90px;text-align:left;[/newclass] [newclass=".harjacredit"]text-align:center;font-size:8px;font-family:arial;text-transform:uppercase;[/newclass] [googlefont=Open+Sans:400,700][googlefont=Raleway:400,700] |
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Post by Katya Kanazaki on Mar 27, 2017 9:45:35 GMT
精神病の愛 You knew the game and played it, it kills to know that you have been defeated, I see the wires pulling while you're breathing. TAG @jason WORDS count here NOTES say something nice | Honestly who could blame them? A bullet hits quicker than a blade does on a target. A samurai against a gunsman. It’s no brainer who would win, the guy would be dead before he/she could swing a sword against someone wielding a gun of all things. An old teacher once told her of a saying back in his country. ‘Never bring a knife to a gun duel’ he had a point in it. As funny as it sounded, a knife could easily be classified as any bladed weaponry. As for the gun it can go for any range… just like the numerous tempting weaponry displayed on each shelf.
She had no reason to own one anymore. That chapter had long since ended ever since that day. Her throat suddenly tightened. Recalling a few glimpses of the past. Memories that she buried deep but managed to slip out of her guard. She pushed them back, refusing them the chance to slip through her carefully crafted mask. “I don’t blame them…” The child spoke, attempting to distract herself by letting a lazy gaze drift back to the weaponry on display. She half listened to his speak about special commissions towards his customers. It wasn’t her business to know who made their business from this place.
She really had no reason too. But still the custom made guns tried to call her, tempt her to wield it once more. To let her hands feel the welcoming chill of metal being pressed onto her skin. The sense of the trigger and the patience as her pray got within her sights. She honestly couldn’t blame those who crave for its thrill. Forcing her attention back to the man when he commented about her having an eye for them. She pressed down the urge to chuckle at the comment. If only he knew… she mused. But the young girl knew when to keep her secrets fully wrapped around her heart. “Ive…never met someone who dabbles in gun making before…at least guns that can actually shoot.” She tilted her head. Pausing a bit to think of a response to her having an eye for them. “One…of my former teachers at my old school knows his way around a gun… he tends to like talking about them….” She answered hesitantly.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 16, 2017 0:54:12 GMT
"I've been working around guns and weaponry for basically most of my life." He said, careful to leave out the part about it being his job to make them for the mafia. He shuddered at the memories that resurfaced in his psyche, and pushed them back down to the dark recesses of his mind where they belonged. His psychometry already caused enough trouble for him as it was when it came to nasty, sudden memories and visions, he didn't need his own dark past coming back to haunt him. "I can't say that I've really met anyone else that makes guns, either." 'Except my old teacher...' "It's not an art that's easy to find others putting their time and effort into. Weaponsmithing in general is a somewhat rare art, to be honest. Outside of massive corporations, at least." Jason had been approached by large companies on a few occasions, practically begging for him to work for them, which he patently refused every time. Such large businesses lack a lot of the care and individuality that he put in to his works. While their guns were certainly expertly and wonderfully made, he didn't want to commit himself to a cold and uncaring company. There was also that and the possibility that the mafia might run into him again within that company, and that was something that he didn't want. At all. WORD COUNT: 230 | TAG: Katya Kanazaki |
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'Let the darkness consume you...'
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Post by Katya Kanazaki on Apr 19, 2017 1:45:03 GMT
精神病の愛 You knew the game and played it, it kills to know that you have been defeated, I see the wires pulling while you're breathing. TAG @jason WORDS count here NOTES say something nice | Words often held second meanings hidden beneath the veil of harmless reply. The girl merely nodded, quietly assimilating his answer while at the same time trying to form her own reply. That’s how most conversations went. One person has to give and another has to respond. Until the kettle overflows with whatever information each party sought after. But Kat wasn’t looking much in terms of information. She wasn’t fishing for it per say, she excused this conversation as a way to satiate her growing curiosity. “Pity…. It seems a rare art like this one shouldn’t die..” She murmured, her gazed traced the fine details of the swords, drinking the fine vine pattern wrapping itself around the hilt of the blade before her gaze shifted over to pale haired man.
“….Not a lot of people custom make guns these days…” The child commented casually. More often than none it’s the larger companies that manufactures them. Huge names like Smith or Winchester, she shook her head. The wonders of what a year having to deal with that unexpected turn in her former school could do to change the child. Especially in teaching them new found skills. She shook her head. Filling away the memories back whence they came before it affected the mask she had on her face. “Most that do ends up working for the bigger companies…” That’s the problem with it, the more the work for bigger names the less chances there was to get a gun custom made for a person. Mass produced weaponry often lacked personal characteristics. Something she was glad this shop hadn’t forgotten. Not every gun on display was the same. That was like telling a da vin ci painting was the same as a Picasso.
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