Shadow of a Bullet[Natasha, Orion]

Natasha considered herself a master of keeping her true emotions concealed from the watchful eyes of others. Exceptionally so. Yet, it wasn't wholly difficult to read her if one was perceptive enough, and the midnight assault in Africa made it an exceedingly difficult task to maintain the typical composure she was commonly familiar with. As it was, the stain of defeat still held significant weight over her soul. Like a lingering frustration that bothered her to no end, she couldn't erase the thought from her head. No matter how many times she replayed the scenario in her mind, Natasha adamantly placed the lion's share of fault on her shoulders. Fault with her ability, fault with her current level of skill. An idle mind repeating useless questions.

If she had been a little more aggressive, would it have changed the result? If she learned some special technique like Volstandig or Letz Stil, would the tides have turned in their favor?

These were the worst types of questions, though. Hypotheticals without answers. Even so, the regret hasn't worn on her soul to such a degree that she's lost her will to go on. For every problem, there is a solution, right? Whether in the interim or long term, something would present itself if she persisted long enough. To solve her current solution, or pursue an avenue to release her frustration, she has made the conscious choice to touch up on her techniques rather than stew in frustration. Choosing a familiar gun range recalled from memory, a place that called her back out of curiosity for one man. His words are recalled at random, the result of an idle mind operating at peak capacity. They were mostly complimentary in nature, of course, but there was something in particular that kept her curious.

Your eyes are too pure, Ms. Miller. I do not doubt your ability, but I can tell you're nice. Your glow would be ruined by my shadow.

What about that bothered her? She wondered. Was she overthinking it? Finding fault to explain her inability to win? In the end, she concluded reckoned that all of this was far too introspective for her tastes. Right now, she'll busy herself with training. Rather than sticking to stationary targets, she has chosen a simulation filled to the brim with virtual enemies dancing around her in constant motion. Forming a pair of spirit pistols within the palms of her hands, Natasha settles into a rhythm of Hirenkyaku and gunfire as several shots of reishi eliminate the silence in the air. A welcomed distraction from her thoughts.

The mood around the Vandenreich's been pretty pitiful, but that's to be expected after the humiliation it faced. The Gotei's an organization that's able to bounce back from a loss due to still having powerful assets. The Vandenreich's not as resourceful. The weakest of the two bodies, what it had during that battle was pretty much all it has. That means there's nothing to fall back on but the efforts of those who've gained the will to grow stronger. Well, guess something like this has a benefit underneath all the destruction.

Orion, for what it's worth, found himself a bit of desire to grow. His capabilities are already specified however, so all he's able to improve is general usefulness. That means he needs to make sure he never misses a shot, never lets an enemy escape, and always know what to do next. The only way to ensure his usefulness is constant practice. Already a stickler for keeping his aim true, this is but a simple rendezvous to his usual spot. He should have known someone else would be there.

"Natasha," He muttered to himself, remembering the woman as he stepped into the area and noticed her. She's taking on moving targets this time, but he can easily the aggressiveness of her every move. Something's wrong with her, but remembering that she was a soldier on the frontline, it's easy to assume the issue here. It's not everyday Orion wields his Spirit Weapon, but his blue musket materialized in his hand and with a quick lift of his rifle, he shot his shot at one of the moving targets, leaving a hole in its body.

"Hi," He plainly greeted. "You're moving too sharp, each step full of misplaced energy. You're also distracted by something. Remember conflicted thoughts are pointless on a battlefield."

The sound of a familiar voice and a gunshot from an alternate direction proved pertinent enough to draw Natasha's attention away from her current distraction. She had settled into a routine rhythm, but as Orion noted, there was a certainly a lack of refinement to it. There was the natural finesse she always displayed as a gunslinger, but it all felt so remarkably rushed that she simply slowed to a halt, gazing in his direction. Despite her less than ideal state of mind, his advice hardly falls on deaf ears. If anything, she certainly agreed with his critique.

"Howdy, Orion. Guess I can't say I'm too surprised to see you here. Nor can I disagree with ya. Mind's been mightily out of sorts after what went down in Africa. I thought I'd made a plethora of significant improvements, but I got embarrassed out there."

Her pace is slower now, mainly to pay attention to any reply he might offer. She isn't expecting him to offer heartfelt advice or words to ease her mind. Though that would imply she had any intention to pass that burden onto anyone else to begin with.

"Improvements in what?" Orion asked before his spiritual weapon evaporated in his hands.

"With what I see, your mind's not on training. It's on letting out frustrations."

He started walking closer, examining her. Getting as close as he did broke the convention of personal space, but Natasha will be fine. Orion's eyes are too focused on examining her own for something like that to matter. He can see it though, her frustrations and such. She's like an infant barely keeping herself from throwing a massive tantrum. However, that's the first step to growth.

"That's fine. Let yourself be down. Get mad and make a mess. After you're done, clean yourself up and get to work. The enemy's not going to wait for us to feel better. You've tasted defeat for the first time. You've felt the need to survive and found yourself incapable of saving even your own life. There's no one you can help like this, but I guess that's why your eyes were pure back then."

Huffing, he took a step back and rubbed the back of his head. He didn't mean to come at her like that, but watching potential waste itself is frustrating. When he first saw her, he'd have preferred someone like her behind a desk, but they're past that now. She's been cut deep and having trouble healing. If anything, some advice will mend it a bit.

"Now you know what you lack, so instead of making more mistakes, focus on perfecting your imperfections."

"Phew. Yer about as blunt as I remember. Still, I reckon there ain't a single lie in what ya just said, but... before I humor this advice... can you answer a question?"

Natasha didn't pay any mind to the propriety of personal space at the moment, her gaze locked within his own, noting those examining eyes as he read her like a book. As though her pages were being explored, each word was no less true than the last. This frustration had grown difficult to contain yet Orion offered a casual solution that left her at a loss of words. Get mad? Let loose? The concept felt almost alien. For one who had always preferred holding all her cards close to her chest, she couldn't exactly say she had ever know what that experience felt like - to actually express her rage, allowing her emotions to emanate in the atmosphere for once. Casting her gaze down towards the ground, Natasha allowed herself a moment to ponder his words, namely that observation from the last time. Pure eyes. What does that mean?

"Orion... that's the second time I've heard ya talk about my eyes bein' pure. At first, I thought it was a compliment, but I've been thinkin' about that... And I want to know what you mean by that. What do I gain by breaking down when people need me at my best right now? I'm supposed to be strong. I'm a coordinator. So much is riding on me and I... what am I missing?"

Natasha maintained his gaze even as the man stepped back to afford her a moment of space. It wasn't a pleasant experience to indulge something like this, but she hasn't recognized any option that will truly set her soul at peace. Perhaps, in discovering what he means, what his point of view is regarding her as a warrior, she'll unearth something important. What other option did she have at this point? She couldn't let this fester forever.

"You're not missing anything. Everyone has the ability to do anything, but it's just a matter of putting the pieces where they need to be."

Watching her, he can easily tell that she's being eaten away by her inability to do what she wants, what she needs. He can understand that feeling. His whole life is nothing more than a race that he's always dead last in.

"You were pensive when we first talked. I could tell you were questioning your worth then and now you're no longer questioning it. You know exactly where you are, for better or worse. Your eyes were of those that wanted to help everyone, but you'd forgotten how to help yourself. Now you don't know what to do with everyone out for the count and only you left remaining."

He killed them. He killed his fellow test subjects to become the best. Any friendship he had was left dead in his quest to become what he needed to be. That's the thing that separates a murderer and a hero.

"Are you willing to forget them if it means becoming stronger?"

"I reckon that's the same type of optimism I should be adoptin' myself, but still..."

Natasha truly found herself at a loss of words here. His observations were pinpointedly correct. No marks were missed as he swept through her pages. Orion hardly knew her, to be certain, yet his words seemed to encapsulate the whole of her mindset. Natasha had never known defeat so crushing outside of something she left in her past. She had vowed to never feel the weight of inability again.

Of course, she wanted to protect them. These were peers that she would gladly fight for to her last breath, and she couldn't do anything to assist them in a way that kept them protected. And it drew her back to the past, the image of multiple bodies piled atop one another, the grotesque vision of her fellow soldiers dying a miserable death in the name of her so-called rebellion. What type of pieces did she need to avoid that fate again? There were various paths laid out before her, and none of them felt like they brought her any closer to a solution than the last.

Then, a simple question with chilling implications followed. Sacrificing something familiar in favor of attaining something greater. Strength. What did it mean to be stronger? Wherein lay the fundamental path for growth? For a moment, her gaze trailed off, staring at the floor. At the moment, she didn't have an immediate answer - only questions.

"Of course not. I care for every one of them. And yet, I wanna be strong. Strong enough to prevent somethin' like that from ever happenin' again. We already lack a firm sense of firepower as it is. I should be pullin' my weight by now, right? Yet... I just feel like a goddamn liability at the moment, and I hate it."

"Power is something that requires sacrifice: our bodies, time, relationships, and even lives. However, we decide what we sacrifice."

Orion found her will inspiring at least. He gave her a choice, and she choice the go the road that kept her together with everyone. In that case, the power she seeks isn't something that's hidden in some far off cave or forced out in life or death scenarios. She has the power she needs already. Now's the time to find it.

"Head up, soldier. You still have time. You have your life. You still have your body. Then that means we still have time to make you into something that deserves the friends by her side."

He remembers how he was treated when he questioned everything. It made sense to reenact the sentimentality. He was asked the very same question that he asked her. Orion understands. That is why he felt it right to place a hand on Natasha's shoulder, feeling awkward the whole time while trying to smile. Though, his smile came off as more of an twinge of his lips that had more of a cheesy smirk feel than anything else.

Well, Natasha probably gets it, maybe.

His heartfelt words certainly reached her, even if her current expression didn't display that firsthand. At the moment, she was dumbfounded. Orion in no way struck her as the type to expound such positive advice. Even so, it was precisely because of that that she was able to truly register them beyond the positive aspect. He was offering genuine support. He recognized her plight. The hand on her shoulder, the awkward smile, the encouraging words... these simple actions were quite endearing to a woman who, up until now, had currently questioned her purpose in all of this.

They had a meaning that didn't go ignored. After the initial dumbfounded reaction passed, Natasha smiled warmly as a soft sigh escaped her lips. Reaching upward to rest her hand against his own, the southern woman offered a glowing smile as she patted his hand. He was right. As long as she was still alive and breathing, there was an opportunity to move forward, to improve beyond her current scope of strength. More importantly, there was support. Men and women to offer their assistance. Reaching upward to pinch his cheek teasingly, Natasha chuckled as she felt that tension slowly eased in her soul.

"Reckon I didn't expect you to be the encouraging type, darlin'. Yer right... It's not over yet. I'm still alive and breathing. It'll be mighty difficult to get there, but as long as I keep on truckin', with all this support around me? I can grow stronger. A simple answer, definitely, but.... that was somethin' I needed to hear. Thank you kindly, sweetheart... I needed that."

Eh?

He only gave her a bit of encouragement that he knew others would give her. Is he really that weird that his words came off that differently? Natasha's reaction caught him off guard, but he'd be lying to say it did not lighten his mood. Is this how talking to a woman's supposed to feel? This was supposed to be a soldier helping another soldier, not what feels sentimental and bountiful.

Completely out of his element, his thoughts couldn't help but fall victim to the scourge of every man. His complete lack of female interaction made him all too suspectable to Natasha's happy face and soothing voice. Never in his life has he known a gentle touch either, so he's dumbfounded on what he's supposed to do or say.

The only real solution is to fall back on what he knows. Wanting to return to his stone-cold killer mindset, he'd try to move, but his cheek suddenly trapped between her fingers sent a shock down his spine. Immediately, his pale face began to redden at how incredulous this situation's proven. Everything he's learned is useless.

"Don't... mention it," Orion managed breathed out in a wry voice as his eyes shifted to the side. To say the least, he did not hate any of this. He's just so unuse to anything of the sort. Even his teacher, with his bearish comradery, couldn't compare to a woman, huh...

Is this what it means to be friendly? Will he have to endure more sentiments like this? The dear of being surrounded by more Natasha's is heavy, but maybe being out of his comfort zone is okay if it feels like this. Who knows...