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Who: Elsa and Sanzo
What: Hashtag god-and-shinki problems
When: IC April 2
Where: The library in Menrva's temple
Warnings: will add as they come up

Communication is an important part of every type of relationship.

And Elsa needs to be sure Sanzo won't smoke indoors again. The smell of his cigarettes is starting to fade from all the books in the library, but it's still there, a ghost haunting them all, which is why she is opening the windows where she can. Some fresh air will do the whole room some good.

It'll do her good, too. She's been resting since the incident with Gojyo, even when two days later saw her almost fully recovered. The quiet of the temple (except on class days) has been a nice reprieve from their current reality, and a welcome distraction from the memories of the excursion to Yomi-no-Kuni.

"There," she says when she opens the last window, putting her hands on her hips and giving a nod. "Much better." She shuts her eyes and breathes deep. Yes, this is nice, and just what she needs.

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Communication is a pain in the ass.

Sometimes, it's a necessary one. Sanzo is happier avoiding it altogether, especially given whatever nonsense Hakkai and Elsa are working through, but they don't exactly have the luxury of time. It's unlikely, at least, from what he'd learned about the situation as it was.

He finds her in the library, and approaches quietly as he tucks away his reading glasses. His voice is soft but as steady and inflexible as always when he greets her, "Elsa."

Even though Sanzo spends a lot of time in the library, Elsa wasn't expecting him. Still, she turns to face him with a smile.

"Sanzo. It's good to see you. Don't you think the fresh air is nice?"

There's the slightest bit of bite to her voice, to remind him that airing out the library is not a green light for him to continue with his smoking indoors habit.

Sanzo doesn't want to dignify that with a reply. He knows scolding when he hears it, and he's not the sort of man that takes it well. Not answering, however, wouldn't help his case with her, and he's got more important things to talk about.

"Suppose so." He's getting used to this far more quickly than he'd have expected, but then both Hakkai and Elsa are cut from a similar cloth in many respects. Indirect, outwardly polite, and no doubt dangerous to the unwary. He sighs, resisting the urge to rifle through his robes for his depleted stash of cigarettes. "You have something to say?"

She might as well get it out of her system.

"No." She says that with a smile too. They're clearly on the same page here, and that's all she wants.

"Do you, though?" Elsa is learning that it's best to be direct with him. She and Hakkai speak a similar language, but Sanzo takes a different approach. It's nice, actually. It'll probably do both her and Hakkai good. (Certainly it will help Hakkai, at least, given their friendship in life.)

"Yes." He isn't comfortable with this, but his feelings on the matter aren't something that need considered here. Crossing his arms in a gesture more defensive than he intends to project, he leans back on his heels somewhat as he meets her eyes directly. There's a challenge there, but it's not directed at Elsa.

He doesn't have to know why to realize how it feels all wrong to submit in any way to someone else, but he has to put that aside for the sake of sheer practicality.

"We're going to have to work together, so let's figure out this shinki bullshit."

That's a shame, because she wants him to be comfortable, to know that he can trust her. That will take time, though. Trust is earned.

His posture doesn't intimidate her. Many a brash high schooler tried that with her and failed miserably at obtaining the upper hand. Sanzo, at least, is more of an equal than any student would be, and he's also not trying to get out of any trouble.

Is he?

No. He just wants to cut through this tenuous beginning to their working relationship. Good.

"All right. We should start with finding out what your vessel form is. Indoors or outdoors?" She gestures to the door. She has no preference, so she'll take his into account.

There's nothing personal about it, for all that Sanzo clearly fails at expressing himself in a constructive way.

"Out." It's the practical choice. Neither of them could predict exactly what they were dealing with until it happened, and he makes for the door with an even stride without another word.

Honestly, she thinks as she follows him, she appreciates his directness. It makes this quicker and easier. Once they break the ice, it'll be better for them both. Elsa can prove that she can be trusted, and Sanzo can show her if he's just as focused in battle.

Outside, in the back courtyard, she stops when he does, staying a good few steps away, and nods. "I'm going to call your vessel name. The moment you want to stop, you tell me and I'll revert you, all right?"

She pauses for a moment, waiting for any indication that he's changed his mind. When she gets none, she holds out her hand palm up and says, "Youki."

The first response he has to the call isn't the right one, and he's entirely aware of it. That doesn't change the way Sanzo actively resists on instinct, holding firm against the pull even though it's distinctly uncomfortable. It lasts the span of a few heartbeats before he sets his jaw, and forces himself to just let go.

It's disorienting and strangely claustrophobic. A revolver appears in her hand, and he really just needs a moment to get his head on straight because there's a budding edge of panic intruding on his thoughts. Focus. That's what he needs right then. He just has to focus.

Somehow, it feels like dealing with an enemy might have been easier. Deliberately giving up control is so much worse.

"I felt that." Elsa winces a little. "Your discomfort."

There's a brief pause as she draws back her hand, fingers closing around the weapon, index finger settling on the trigger. Of course he would be a gun. She's read how many articles on helping prevent gun violence in schools? And now she gets to fight with one.

At least she'll be responsible. At least she'll only hurt ayakashi with it.

"Do you want to stop? It's fine if you do. We can try some other time."

Now that is galling. He has to remember that there's no privacy here. The frustration that unfortunate fact inspires clears his head somewhat, forces back the jumble of disconcerting emotions.

"Shut up about that. I heard you the first time." Stranger still is being able to talk in this form, and his tone is rough. "Now take your finger off the trigger."

Innately, he's starting to think he could prevent her from firing altogether, but he's not entirely sure. She's no steady hand with a firearm, that much he can already tell, so he's not going to take chances.

She shouldn't laugh -- none of this is funny -- but his bossiness even in vessel form amuses her enough that she has to stifle a chuckle. He is stubborn like some students Elsa has worked with, and even some faculty, so this isn't wholly new territory. Except, of course, for the fact that she is talking to a revolver who is actually the soul of a dead person.

"Right." She does as he says, and examines the weapon. "The only thing I've ever shot before is lightning bolts. From a sword. This will take me some practice, but with your help, it shouldn't be that long before we're able to fighr together."

It's important to her that he understand they will be fighting together, even if she is the one holding his vessel form. They are a team, unable to fulfill their mission without each other.

"So. Target practice." The sprawlong backyard off the porch where she spoke with Gojyo is as good a place for that as any. "Hakkai and I practiced on falling petals, for precision. That seems a little advanced for a novice, though. Where do you suggest we start?"

It comes naturally to him for one reason or another. It's easy to command, to order, and simply to assume that others will follow in his wake as he took the lead. Yet, he's not terribly offended by her amusement. As long as she can perform adequately, he'll let that go.

"Petals still on the tree." The reply is followed with the impression of an almost rueful snort. If he's joking, he doesn't bother giving any indication as such.

At that, she does chuckle. "That might actually work. Sure, they're small targets, but with both of us aiming, we should be able to hit a few, right?"

She has no idea how good a shot she is. The lightning had been magical, and she'd had much larger targets than she will here. Ayakashi will be bigger than petals, but like with a sword, she wants to learn to be precise, wants to develop sharp reflexes that'll work with her escape intuition if need be.

Keeping her finger off the trigger, she aims the revolver at the nearest tree--it's just off the edge of the courtyard, leaves and petals swaying a little in the gentle breeze. "Tell me when you're ready."

"Like hell I'm firing now. Not with that hopeless grip."

Congratulations, Elsa, you're dealing with the pickiest gun in the history of man.

"Dominant hand goes higher- put the backstrap in the web of your hand. Thumb goes under the cylinder release. Support it with your off-hand."

Elsa physically bites her lips to keep herself from laughing again as she follows his instructions. Of course she'd be bad at even the basics of this. She's never fired a gun in her life.

Okay. Time to be serious. She takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly as she brings up her off hand to support her dominant one. "This feels better already."

And since they're at the very basics anyway, she may as well ask questions. "How do I aim?"

It's an improvement. It's a good distraction, too. Being forced into this subordinate role conflicts with his nature, but this gives him some level of control. And, oddly, it takes some effort to put together how to explain it all when it seems to come to him as easy as breathing.

On his first day, Gojyo had pissed him off and he'd picked off the cherry of the man's cigarette with split second timing. It's perhaps not unfitting that his soul expressed itself in this way.

"Breathe slowly, regularly. Pick your target and line the top of the front sight dead center," he orders, speaking slower and softer as he goes on. He'll let her get that far before he continues. It's almost meditative, calming even for him. "Shift the front sight centered in the valley of the rear sight."

Another pause, waiting and surprisingly something like patient.

"On your next exhale, keep it steady as you squeeze the trigger."

As his voice changes and becomes almost rhythmic, Elsa relaxes. Meditative is how she'd describe it too, a nice change that mutes the undercurrent of anxiety she feels at holding a weapon whose power she to take lives she is so acutely aware of. Breathing steadily is soothing, helps her focus, lets her hear her thoughts when she reminds herself that this is going to save lives.

For their target, she chooses a large leaf in the tree across the courtyard from them, lines up the front sight, shifts it as Sanzo instructs. She breathes in, then out, and pulls the trigger.

For a few seconds after she shoots, she holds her stance, frowning at her target. Then, coming out of it, she looks down at the revolver, then back at the tree. "Well, I think I hit the tree, at least."

It could be worse. She had hit the tree, but that hadn't been what they were going for. They? That wasn't right, not really. She. It wasn't what she had been going for.

"You went high," he points out. It seems important to clarify just who was at fault there, as he's quite sure his sights couldn't need adjusted. "The trigger pull isn't going to be as heavy this time, so keep that in mind."

He's starting to wonder how much influence he could have over this. It's not the right time to experiment, though he might be moved to in a few more shots. For now, she needs to get the feel for the weight of the weapon, the pull-through of the trigger, and recoil.

"Don't hesitate. Adjust your aim and fire until you take the leaf off the tree."

There's so much more to this than just...pulling a trigger. It shouldn't surprise her, but here she is, resuming her stance and taking aim again. With every shot, she keeps in mind Sanzo's instructions, adjusting her aim until she hits the branch from which the leaf hangs. It's not quite what she'd wanted, but it's better than she'd expected. More importantly, she feels more comfortable with the revolver, and she and Sanzo have found a way to work together, even if only for this one instance.

"I'm glad you know how to use a gun. I couldn't do this without you." And for all that he's grumpy most of the time, he's a very good teacher. "Sanzo."

It's just as strange to be released as it had been to be confined to that other form, but he manages to keep his expression shuttered and flat. Sanzo shifts his robes as if to settle everything in place, as finicky as a cat. His fingers linger briefly on the edges of the sutra, unnecessarily as he tries to bring his thoughts together in some semblance of order.

It'd been disconcertingly easy to settle into that rhythm of aim and fire with her. The calm he'd held when he'd been giving her instructions had fractured, but he didn't want her to know that.

"Stick with Hakkai for now. You're a long way out from being able to use me in battle."

He does a better job this time of keeping his feelings to himself. Nothing is strong enough that it registers with Elsa, so she lets herself believe the first thing that comes to mind: he must still be in that calm space they'd found together.

"No argument there." She is always going to be more comfortable with a sword, in part because she also likes using a sword -- compared to using a gun, anyway. "At some point we'll need to find out what special ability you have. I'm not sure if it first manifests in battle, though." And aside from that quiet mental space they'd managed to reach, she isn't sure what his ability might be.

"How did you figure out what Hakkai could do?" he asks as he occupies himself with pulling his revolver from his sleeve. He holds it left-handed at an angle entirely unlike how he'd coached her, taking aim casually at the tree that she'd been shooting at. It feels natural with its worn grip and comforting weight, as if it were an extension of himself, and maybe it's not a surprise that his vessel form expresses itself so much in the same way.

He could make the shot without a problem, but doesn't. Instead, he drops his arm and thumbs the cylinder release so he can unload the weapon.

Elsa draws in a breath, holding it for a moment as she watches him take aim. "It was on the day the poisoned chocolates were handed out." A day no one who was there for will ever forget. "There were some very aggressive ayakashi attacking us, and he just-- found it, I guess. Suddenly there were vines coming from his vessel form, grabbing the ayakashi before it could cause damage."

Before it could hurt her. She remembers that moment clearly, remembers thinking she'd be dealt a nasty blight in the face. "I'm not sure if we need to be in a rough spot to uncover it, but it seems to help."

"Figures." Do or die would be the kind of thing to inspire some unusual power. Bullets vanish to be secreted away in his robes before he holds the unloaded gun out to her, ignoring the odd twinge of possessiveness that rises up within him.

It's just a gun. A weapon. An object.

Then again, that's what he was. But, no, he's not attached. Just a weapon, he reminds himself. She wouldn't be even a half-decent shot in one day, but he wants to try something. "Your aim went off on the trigger pull. Try this one."

Oh gosh, she'd thought she was done handling guns today. The surge of emotion in Sanzo actually helps snap her out of that. Elsa takes this gun with all the care it deserves -- because it's his, and it's precious to him, clearly -- and takes aim.

"The recoil is going to take getting used to." All of it will, but that part stands out the most.

Again, she follows his instructions, pulling the trigger on an exhale. It clicks, and she jumps, if only because she was expecting to shoot. "I can't seem to relax when I do this. Practice should help, though."

"Then practice. If you're going to kill, it should be as easy with a gun as it is with a sword."

He couldn't say he could understand her aversion, but he's probably the wrong person to be the judge of that. The truth was, however, that she's dealing with a killer in a monk's robes, and he's not willing to die because she's tense and jumpy. Maybe all it'd take would be practice.

But maybe not.

"In the end, what matters is that you'll still be alive. Not how."

"Killing ayakashi isn't the problem." Though he does have a point. A sword can be just as deadly as a gun in the right hands. "It's just-- knowing how many senseless deaths have been caused by someone with a gun. It's a little difficult for me not to think about that when I'm standing here with one myself."

It's just a tool, though. Just another weapon to use in the fight against the ayakashi.

"It's easier with you, though." She turns to face him and holds the gun out for him to take. "Maybe we should get blanks for this one."

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