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EA-LEC: Aiming For Better Things

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Mory’s eyes lit up as he eyed the large amount of items that was being set in front of him outside of the Heroes’ Hideout. After finding out about the various amount of objects that had been appearing out of the portal, he just couldn’t resist going over and examining each and every one of them.


He decided to bring around Jean and Jazz, seeing that they may be interested with the foreign objects as well. They too stared in awe at what was unfolding in front of them.


“Can you believe it, guys?” Mory asked. “Not only do we have people from different worlds here but we also have OBJECTS from different worlds!”


“I’ll say!”Jazz said, adjusting his shades with a grin. “There is a lot of sweet stuff here! I still can’t believe someone would just throw all of these stuff away!”


Jean, on the other hand, frowned as he looked around. “Indeed…”


Mory quickly got on to Jean’s lack of enthusiasm. “Indeed? Indeed, what?”


Jean crossed his arms, looking at his friend. “Don’t you think there is a good reason that people threw away all of these seemingly in-condition items?”


Mory paused for a moment before looking at the large amount of items. “Now that you mentioned it, it DOES seem a bit strange.”


Jean shook his head. “Sometimes I don’t think Bogus has put enough restrictions on this league. Allowing potential murderers to enter it and now having these… items here where anyone could just go up and grab it, claiming it for their own.”


Mory was listening to Jean’s skepticism and even mentally admitted to himself on how potentially dangerous this situation was. Jazz on the other hand was so busy looking around just like a kid in a candy store that he didn’t bother listening to his friend’s concern.


In fact, his focus had locked onto one particular item. A pistol laying on top of a crate among several other items. It didn’t looked that different from other pistols except for one noticeable feature. It was in a shade of blue.


“Ooh, cool gun!” Jazz said reaching out for it. Jean and Mory immediately jerked their heads towards the saxophone player with their eyes as wide as saucers. Jean wasted no time leaping forward, smacking Jazz’s hand away.


“THIS is why I am against the whole thing!” Jean snapped as he and Jazz glared at each other. “Any imbecile could just walk up and take an item for their own no matter how dangerous it is!”


“Aww, I just wanted to have a look.” Jazz whined, rubbing his hand that got struck.


“You just wanted to have a look.” Jean spat. “It is very easy to misfire a gun if you are not careful. What if you accidentally shoot yourself or somebody else?”


The blue-haired young man immediately was appalled. “And what makes you think I won’t be careful?”


“Um, because you are you.” Jean said matter-of-factly, making Jazz growl.


Normally, this would be the part where Mory would play the peacemaker and break up the fight, but he had just noticed something strange about the gun besides its odd colour. He raised an eyebrow.


“So this is it.” Mory mused getting the two’s attention.


“So what’s it, Mory?” Jean asked.


“This gun.” The brown-haired youth said, picking it up. “I actually wanted to claim it for myself.”


Jean and Jazz’s eyes bugged out to the fullest when they heard the words coming out of their pacifistic friend.


“What!?” Jazz exclaimed.


“But I thought you hated violence!” Jean said.


“I know.” Mory said, still examining the gun.


“Then why do you want to wield such a lethal weapon?” Jean asked.


“Because it ISN’T lethal.” Mory corrected.


Jean and Jazz blinked twice in confusion.


“Huh?” Jazz asked.


“Yeah, Al told me about it after he was testing it out. Apparently this particularly gun could only shoot small bursts of energy.” Mory noted.


“Really?” Jazz asked. “Cool! You get a super laser gun, then!”


“Yes and no…” Mory mused. “The power of the actual shots aren’t that strong. Al even described being hit by it is on the same level of being struck by a little boy with small rocks and a slingshot.”


Jean blinked twice for a moment. “Why would ANYONE make such a weak gun?”


“I don’t know but I DO know this.” Mory said before narrowing his eyes. “I need it.”


Jazz tilted his head to the side. “Why?”


Mory let out a deep sigh before looking down at his feet.


“In the circle of judges, I am the weakest link. Boss DeLuca is a Death Angel who works similarly to a mob boss. The Time Traveller is a… Well, an expert on time travelling. Auntie Di is the reason why we have enough money for the league. Even Queen-Gwenevere is a ruler of her own realm.” Mory said.


Jean paused wanting to call Mory out on Queen-Gwenevere’s status of a queen but he decided to stay quiet and let Mory continue.


“Me. I am just some computer guy who gets queasy at the sight of blood.” Mory muttered looking down. “Sometimes I wonder if I am actually still a judge at all.”


“What do you mean?” Jazz asked concerned.


“I never liked fighting and I am near-useless in a fight of my own.” Mory said. “At least YOU guys have your powers.”


“That we rarely use.” Jean admitted.


“Even still, that is better than nothing. I need to have a way to defend myself.” Mory said shaking his head. “Otherwise, the others may see me as deadweight.”


Jean’s eyes widened at this. “What? That is preposterous! If that is the case, Bogus wouldn’t kept you for so long!”


“And even if he did fired you, you are still technically part of the league so worst-case scenario, you don’t get to judge any matches.” Jazz said crossing his arms. “And considering how battle-happy those guys get, it is not much of a loss if you ask me.”


“I appreciate it, guys but still, I want to do this…” Mory said with a deep sigh. “Honestly if I wasn’t here, what would change?”


Jean and Jazz paused for a moment, looking concern. They never seen Mory like this. They just assumed that despite Mory being the weakest link, he didn’t care as long as he was able to help. But in truth, he was really upset that he couldn’t do more.


“So what now?” Jean asked.


“Hm?” Mory asked turning his head.


“That gun? Is it permanent or are you just using it for practice?” Jean said, expanded on his question.


Mory paused looking at the gun. “Good question. Even though I am willing to use a gun, I wouldn’t know the first thing other than I have to pull the trigger to shoot.”


Jazz paused for a moment feeling bad for Mory. Suddenly, he had an idea.


“Ooh, I got an idea to help you!” Jazz said, slamming his fist in his palm.


“Really? What is it?” Mory asked.


“Why don’t you ask Bob?” Jazz suggested.


Jean’s eyes widened. “Bob? As in that lazy coyote, Bob? Please don’t tell me that you are suggesting for Mory to get shooting lessons from HIM?”


Jazz raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Why not? He fights with a pair of pistols! He is the perfect person to go to!”


“Skill means nothing if you don’t have the dedication for it.” Jean said narrowing his eyes. “I don’t trust someone as lazy as Bob to teach someone how to shoot.”


“I don’t necessarily agree with that.” Mory said before looking to the side. “But…”


“Then what are we waiting for?” Jazz asked before making his way to the entrance of the Heroes’ Hideout. “Let’s go get him!”


“Now stay where you are!” Jean snapped. “Bob may be alright with playing hooky, but the others are not!”


“Don’t worry, he is a waiter! And it is his job to serve us!” Jazz grinned before going inside.


“That’s NOT how waiters work!” Jean shouted angrily before it was too late. Jazz was already mostly out of the Frenchman’s shouting range. Jean groaned before crossing his arms and looked at Mory.


“So what did you wanted to say, Mory?” Jean asked. “Before Jazz rudely ran off on you.”


“Well, it is not that I don’t think Bob would be an unreliable teacher.” The bespectacled youth said before looking down. “But it is just that he seems emotionally preoccupied with something else.”



Inside the tavern, there were quite a number of league members hanging out at the dining hall while the workers were walking around, taking orders and serving their food. It seemed like the usual Heroes’ Hideout atmosphere, but only a few would notice that something was off.


Anybody who knew the coyote canine waiter, Bob, would notice that his mood today was different from usual. He may be the slacker among the workers, but he was usually lively and love to chat with those he was close. Yet, he was…


...working.


He was actually working and not slacking off somewhere. He has been taking orders, serving food, and cleaning up tables since morning. Of course, Toms, the siamese feline waiter and Bob’s friend, noticed the bizarre behavior of his friend right away. Bob was not very energetic and talkative like he normally would and he hasn’t taken one break from work today. The coyote seemed to be in a melancholy mood and barely talked to anyone. It was like the coyote was trying to block people out while still doing his job.


The siamese feline had no doubt what caused this strange behavior and tried to help his coyote friend out of worry. “Bob, are you sure you won’t take a rest from work? You are not yourself today.”


“I’m fine, Tommy. Just stop yer worryin’,” Bob said while not looking at Toms as he was carrying a tray of empty plates.


“You have been working since morning without taking a break… once! This isn’t like you at all!” stated Toms, while ignoring the nickname he loathe so much since this wasn’t the time for him to be annoyed.


“I thought ya want me to work more. Now ya complainin’ I work too much?” Bob finally stopped in his track and gave the feline a cold stare.


“I have no complaints for hard work, but not when you are doing it with a foul mood like this,” Toms said worriedly.


“Why dontcha just stop botherin’ me and mind yer own business,” snapped Bob before walking away, fuming.


Toms froze in shock from Bob’s angry retort and didn’t try to follow him. Never has Toms seen the coyote in this foul mood before and he didn’t know what else to do.


“Just let him cool off,” Yuki suddenly walked up to him without the feline noticing. “He just needs time to get himself back together. Working most likely helps keep his mind busy so he doesn’t think too much.”


“I guess it’s like his way of coping,” agreed Toms. “But it’s still worries me nonetheless to see him this down.”


“Give him time and you should get back to work too,” told Yuki. “Suzie is already shock from seeing Bob working. If she sees you slacking off, she’ll think the world is ending.”


“You’re right, Yuki. I just hope he gets back to being his lively self again.”



As Bob was busy wrapped up with clearing out a table, he didn’t notice a small group of people was walking up to him.


Mory, Jean and Jazz was making their way over to the coyote waiter. Or rather Jazz was with Mory and Jazz following, trying to get the saxophone-player to at least slow down.


“I STILL think we should wait for a couple of days before asking.” Mory muttered.


“Nonsense! He will love the idea!” Jazz said before looking at Bob. “Yo, Bob!”


Bob’s ears perked up upon hearing his name being called and the coyote waiter looked up at them. “Yeah? Ya need anythin’?” wondered Bob, giving them a curious and confused look. It took Bob awhile to recognized two of the three men as league members. The last one, Bob immediately recognized as one of the judges. “Howdy, Mory.”


“Um, hey, Bob. How is it going?” Mory asked. He then quickly realized that Bob had only addressed him. “Oh, I don’t suppose you have ever met my friends, Jean and Jazz, have you?”


“Seen them ‘round, but never really talked,” replied Bob, whipping out a damp white rag to wipe the table. “Howdy,” he greeted them with a nod.


“Hey!” Jazz grinned waving his hand.


“Hello.” Jean said with a small bow. Normally, he would speak with a less-than-happy tone towards Bob for being a lazy worker but it was then he remembered that he actually haven’t heard any complaints about Bob shirking his responsibilities recently and he IS more or less working right now.


Jazz on the other hand decided to cut to the chase. “So Bob, could you do Mory here a BIG favour?”


Then the coyote stopped with his cleaning and looked at them with a raised eyebrow, giving them a strange look as he crossed his arms with suspicion. “A favour?”


“Yeah.” Jazz said grabbing Mory by the shoulder and pulling his friend close to him. “You see, Mory here is going to be claiming that blue gun from the large pile of items from the portal. I think you may have seen it right?”


“That pile of junk in front of the portal? Yeah, I’ve seen it,” confirmed Bob. Then he looked at the gun in Mory’s hand and said, “Didn’t think ya were a gunman, Mory. Ya know how to use that?” he pointed at the firearm.


Mory looked to the side. “Um, no. I don’t.”


“Which is why we are here!” Jazz grinned. “Mory wants you to teach him how to use this gun!”


“Me?” Bob pointed at himself, surprised. “Aren’t there others ya can ask? There’s a bunch of gun happy folks in the league who are way better than me. Not to mention, I’m workin’ here. Why dontcha asked them?” He said with a slight bitterness in his tone. Especially, at the ‘way better than me’ part.


Mory, Jean and Jazz all shrank back completely, surprised by Bob’s cold response. Jean and Jazz had expected Bob to use this as an excuse to ditch work and show off his gunslinging skills but instead, the opposite happened.


Even though Mory knew that Bob was under the weather, he too was shocked by his reply. Perhaps this emotional problem he was going through was greater than he thought.


“Um, well, I just thought that it will be okay seeing well… You ARE a waiter.” Jazz said poking his fingers together not feeling so confident in his plan anymore. “And um, aren’t the waiters here supposed to, um, serve us?”


It seemed that the last comment didn’t sit well with Bob, because he gave an annoyed glare at them. “Serve? Now see here! I may be a waiter, but I’m not a servant. We waiters only serve customers in the tavern and do what we were paid to do within the contract boundaries. And giving lessons is NOT one of them,” growled Bob. “Now if ya would excuse me, I have work to do.” Then he went back to working on the table.


Mory, Jean and Jazz stood absolutely thunderstruck at Bob’s response. Jazz was now visibly shaking as if Bob was an actual quadruped coyote snarling at looking for his next meal.


“I… I expected a reaction like that…” Jean said softly. “But not from HIM.”


“Me neither…” Mory said softly. “S-So what now?”


Jazz looked at Mory as if he was crazy. “What do you mean what now? You will find some other teacher! Ask ANY crazed gunslinger around here! Or just read a book! Because I don’t want to bother Bob again!”


Jean cast Jazz an exasperated glare. “I love how much of a fairweather friend you are.”


The blue-haired man was about to retort but then he realized that Jean was right. Here he was determined to find Mory a good teacher in shooting, but in the end, he backed out to his own cowardice. He then let out a deep sigh before making his way back over to Bob, much to Jean and Mory’s surprise.


“What are you doing?” Jean asked.


Jazz looked back at Jean. “Trying to prove that I am a FOULweather friend.” Before Jean and Mory could correct him on his huge grammar error, he looked back at Bob. “Um, Bob?”


It took Bob a second before he turned to glare at him coldly. “What? Didn’t I say I didn’t have time to give yer friend any shootin’ lesson.”


Jazz winced wanting to run off and hide behind Jean but he swallowed the saliva in his mouth and decided to speak.


“First off, I am sorry that I pissed you off.” Jazz apologized. “But really, I feel better knowing that Mory’s teacher is well… Employed. You know… Someone who has a day job and work for a living instead of some random stranger.”


“A nice recovery, I suppose…” Jean mused though he wondered if that would be enough.


Bob stared at the blue haired man for a little while before he sighed. “Well, my apologies for blowin’ up at ya. I’m just down in the weather right now.” Then Bob gave a quick look at Mory before back at Jazz again. “I guess I can spare some time to teach him. Tommy boy over there has been buggin’ me to take a break from work so I guess this counts.” He pointed at Toms, who was working on the other side of the tavern and oblivious to what was going on on this side.


At first, Jazz wanted to question the fact that Toms had to pester BOB to get a break but after hearing Bob’s agreement, his eyes lit up behind his shades.


“R-Really?” Jazz grinned. “Oh, thank you! You don’t know how much this means!”


Mory on the other hand frown before stepping forward. “Bob, if you are truly under the weather, then you don’t have to force yourself to teach me.”


Jazz’s eyes widened before looking at Mory. “Hey! What are you doing?”


“It’s fine, Mory,” assured Bob, his dark mood seemed to lighten up a bit now. “A change in environment and fresh air would be good for me.”


“Well, if you insist…” The bespectacled youth said with a small smile. “Thank you very much for accepting.”


“No problem,” Bob waved casually. “By the way, can I see that gun of yours real quick?” He asked with his hand out for the firearm.


“Of course.” Mory said placing the blue gun in Bob’s hands. “I should tell you though that I think it is some kind of practice gun because it only fires small blue shots.”


Bob examined the gun as he flipped it around in his hand. “So no ammo, but still fires something. A type of energy bullet, I’m guessin’. Looks like a KAHR K9. Not lethal by nature. Usually, firin’ bullets would send a certain amount of recoil, but energy bullets varies dependin’ on the power of it. Ya won’t mind if I test this thin’ first, would ya?”


“Of course not.” Mory said shaking his head. “Though I have to ask. Have you ever used an energy gun before because you sound like you have.”


“Yeah, I tested them out a few times before. Though, I prefer more physical bullets over energy. Had my fair share of larger firearms too, but I’m better off with smaller ones like my pistols. Easier to carry and doesn’t weigh me down,” explained Bob. “Anymore questions?”


Mory paused for a moment wondering if there was anything he needed to ask besides on how to handle the gun which he could learn at the actual shooting lesson.


“Nothing for now.” He said finally.


“Alright then. We’ll practice behind Heroes’ Hideout. Lots of stuff to use for target practice there and nobody to distract us during the lesson,” told Bob.


So Bob lead them outside to the back of Heroes’ Hideout where there was an open area of space and a pile of trash next to the kitchen door. Bob began to stack some empty wooden crates to get a variety of height ranges and grabbed several objects to use for targets like cans, jars, and bottles. He placed a can on the crate first to test out the power of the bullet.


Bob stood a good distance from the target before he took a firing stance, aimed the gun, and fired. A ‘pew!’ sound came out as a blue energy bullet came flying out of the gun and knocked the can off the crate with a loud ‘clank!’


Then the coyote canine went to pick up the can and examined the damage of the object. It seemed that the bullet wasn’t lethal just as he thought since there was a dent in the can, but no hole.


“Looks like yer energy bullets aren’t meant to kill anybody. Just enough to give a bruise for defense or escaping. It’s like getting shot by a pebble,” informed Bob. “The recoil wasn’t that strong so it should be easy to handle for a beginner like you.” Then he handed back the gun to Mory before proceeding to stack some cans and bottles on the crates for the judge to practice with.


“Um, all right.” Mory said waiting for Bob to finish stacking the cans and the bottles. Once the cowboy was done, Mory breathed in a deep breath trying to calm himself down. Jazz watched grinning like an idiot on caffeine while Jean watched in mild interest.


It was then Mory aimed his pistol at the set of cans and bottles. He knew that the gun was far from dangerous, but he also knew how easily he could take a life if it was lethal. Because of this, his hand was shaking a bit.


Pew!


Pulling the trigger on the gun, he fired a blue shot at a can. However, not only did he missed the can by a long distance, his aim wasn’t anywhere near any of the cans and bottles, leading the energy bullet to harmlessly zoom away.


Jean and Jazz may be just as newcomers to the world of guns as Mory, but they saw the main flaw with Mory’s attempt aside from his obvious inexperience.


“Well, looks like I have a lot of work cut out for me,” Bob said cooly. “First off, ya need to get into a proper stance. There are variety of stances used by professional shooters, but the two most popular stances used by gunmen are the ‘weaver’ and the ‘isoseles.’ The weaver is basically standin’ with one foot pointed forward while the other foot is placed considerably backwards and pointed slightly off angle. Raise yer gun arm straight like this while grippin’ it with both hands. Don’t place yer non-gun hand at the bottom. It won’t help with the recoil at all. Place it at the front like this,” he demonstrated the stance while he explained it and used his own pistol to demonstrate the grip as well. “The other stance, isoseles, is basically placin’ yer feet parallel to the firin’ line and holdin’ yer gun pointin’ forward with yer arms in an arrow position. Try out which position is more comfortable for ya.”


Mory paused for a moment wondering which pose he should take. Both of them didn’t seem too hard to do, but obviously one had to be better for him than the other. He decided that the isoseles stance was slightly more beginner-friendly and slowly get himself into the stance Bob was demonstrating.


“Alright, now make sure ya grip the gun correctly. Make sure the grip pressure is front to back, not side to side. Don’t put yer palm below the gun or do any of those stupid grips ya see in movies. Most of them aren’t right. The grip is to help with the recoil and steady yer sight alignment,” Bob demonstrated the grip hold while watching Mory follow his example. “Then ya make sure that the ‘front sight’ and the ‘rear sight’ are on the same level of yer sight. It’s the piece there on the front muzzle of the gun and the back part of the gun where ya can look through it. Make sure those parts are aligned so the bullet hits its target.”


Mory gave a small nod even though he was not confident with himself. Breathing in a deep breath, he tried to align both the front and rear sight with each other. However, he found it more difficult than he thought as his hands were still shaking a bit even though he knew for a fact that being perfectly still was a rule that shouldn’t be explained.


“Don’t be too stiff. Try to relax a little. I don’t want the recoil to hurt yer wrist. Take a breather if ya feel ya need to calm down,” advised Bob, noticing the man’s nervous shake. “Once ya steady your gun, see that you have the proper sight alignment, then steadily pull the trigger.”


Once Bob finished that, he pulled the trigger of his own gun and fired. There was a loud ‘bang!’ and the bullet flew right into a bottle and shattered it.


“Right, relax, relax…” Mory repeated trying to keep himself taking in deep breaths to calm himself down. How could he learn how to fire a gun if he can’t keep his hands from shaking like maracas.


He then took notice at a particular bottle lying down on a crate. Giving in one more deep breath, he aimed at the bottle, trying to ignore all nervousness, and pulled on the trigger, firing a blue shot forward. Again, he missed the target, but the shot was definitely closer this time.


“Gettin’ better,” complimented Bob. “Ya might’ve jerked the trigger a little, so that might’ve caused the accuracy to go a little off. Happens to nervous beginners. Wanna try that again? And like I said before, relax.”


“All right, I will try again but first I probably should ask what is probably a strange question.” Mory said before looking at Bob. “How were you able to wield weapons that seriously maim or kill somebody so easily? Not on a skill level but on an emotional level.”


Bob gave Mory a thoughtful look before asking. “Not a strange question to ask. As a weapon user, not all weapons were made to kill or seriously hurt people. It’s how ya use the weapon and for what purpose. Since the day I chose to wield a gun, I have never killed anyone. Injure, yes, but never kill. If ya train yerself enough to have good accuracy, ya would most likely still injure, but not in a fatal or serious kind. Maybe enough to stop yer opponents or escape, but they can still be able to heal. Not to mention, where I grew up, defendin’ yerself is important. Injuries here and there are quite common.”


“But even with my experience, I’m always careful with my gun. Once that trigger is pulled, ya can’t take it back. One mishap and it can ruin someone’s life. That’s why ya have to have enough trainin’ and skill to be confident enough to use a gun and be mentally and emotionally stable to use it, or any weapons in that matter. Fortunately, for ya, yer gun doesn’t do as much harm as a gun with real physical bullets have. But remember that if ya ever aim a gun at anyone with the attention to fire that bullet, always expect that bullet to hit and be prepared for the consequence,” Bob said with a serious tone.


Jean was overhearing the whole thing and he was genuinely impressed and surprised with Bob. He had never expected such a serious and mature life lesson from the coyote. Not only was he teaching him how to shoot, but he was also giving lessons on the responsibility of wielding a gun.


Mory, on the other hand, had a blank look on his face, taking everything Bob said to mind. If he pulled the trigger on a gun, he would never call the shot off. But if he trained himself enough, he could use it not to kill anyone, but rather to keep potential attackers from hurting him. It was a responsibility and a risk that he knew he had to take.


“Right… Be prepared for the consequence. I got it.” Mory said nodding his head with a solemn look on his face.


Noticing the look on Mory’s face, Bob sighed and asked, “If ya don’t mind me askin’ as well, why did ya decided to start usin’ a weapon? I know that yer not the type to like violence and even faint at the sight of blood. Yer probably the most pacifist out of all the judges, yet ya decided to take up arms now.”


Mory paused for a moment before returning the sigh. “It is BECAUSE of the most pacifist out of everyone that I wanted to take up arms. I am probably the most useless judge in the league.” He said before looking up. “You may had already know this but the league had recently got some dangerous members like Ykkz and Cassidy. What would I do to stop them if they go too far and try to kill their opponent. Nothing! That’s what!”


He then looked down at his gun.


“Self-defence is always welcome but I want more than that. I want a purpose in the league.” Mory said. “And learning how to defend myself could be more than a good start for me.”


For the first time since his depression started, Bob grinned. It was a small but satisfied grin. “Hearin’ that ya want to get stronger so ya can protect the league members from killin’ each other while not gettin’ yerself killed is good to hear. Bein’ the weakest of the judges, at least ya have the right mind. Can’t have incompetent judges runnin’ around and killed durin’ battles.”


Then Bob went to restock on the targets with some more cans and bottles to continue with the lesson. “Since ya want to use that gun, we better practice some more with that aiming of yers. Can’t go walkin’ around with a gun and not able to use it properly, right?”


Mory paused for a moment. He then smiled and nodded his head. “Yes, of course not!”


Jean gave a small smile at the conversation between the two. Suddenly, he felt something jab him in the side. Turning his head, he saw that Jazz was elbowing him with a satisfied grin on his face.


“Well, well?” Jazz smirked.


Jean groaned rolling his eyes before slapping the elbow away. “Yes, yes, this IS a good idea after all and yes, it was YOUR idea.”


“So how’s this idea sound? I can give ya extra lessons until ya feel confident that ya can use the gun. Ya can come to me whenever ya have the time and I’ll be more than happy to teach ya,” offered Bob. “Givin’ a judge some lessons would be a good enough excuse for me to get away from work and Suzie won’t strangle me about bein’ lazy.”


Mory’s smile had gotten bigger when he said this. Not only at the thought of extra lessons, but also at the fact that Bob was actually acting like his usual self again.


“Yes, I would appreciate that very much. Thank you, Bob.” Mory agreed.


So Bob and Mory continued with their shooting lesson while the other two men watched from the side. Bob’s mood was starting to lighten up more now compared to several minutes ago. Looks like a change in atmosphere helped the coyote more than he expected.


On the other hand, Mory was pleased that he was being taught on how to fend for himself so he wouldn’t be useless in case something went out of hand. Maybe some day he would actually be able to protect someone close to him.
Here is a collab entry for :iconea-lec: created by me and :iconscorpius02:. You see, some of you had already know but I had gotten the blue gun from the Weekly Prompt. I actually wanted to give it to Mory. He haven't had that much of an impact on the league compared to the other judges so I am trying to change that. That and the kid needs to learn to defend himself.

Also, Bob had recently been took a shot to his pride after he lost his gun-slinging duel with Neohs. Seeing that his pride in shooting broken, I asked Scorpius if he had anything planned to cheer him up. When he said no, I knew that this was a perfect opportunity for both sides by having Bob teach Mory how to shoot.

XP goes to Jazz for bringing up the idea in-universe and Neohs for tearing apart Bob in the first place. Wait...

Mory Atom, Jean Baroque and Jazz Reed belongs to me.

Bob, Toms and Yuki belongs to :iconscorpius02:

Exercitus Artifex aka the League of Extraordinary Characters belongs to :iconea-lec:
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