Fandom High School

"Okay, either grab your bow from last week, or if you completely failed that class, you can grab one in the corner of the sim."

It was a mildly frazzled Atton showing up in class today, though if anyone accused him of being worried about his roommate, he'd just glare at them until they went away. Anyway, they were in a nice, forestal location in the middle of the Danger Shop, and there were bows, yes.

"So bows take a little more work and upper body strength than a gun, but it's good to know how to use them, in case we get dumped somewhere ass-backward again," Atton said. "Now, I want you to forget everything you've ever seen in movies. Those people don't know what they're doing."

He picked a bow up off the table. "You want to shoot one of these, like with a gun, the stance is important. Stand upright, keep your feet apart, and stay at a 90 degree angle from your target. Now put your hand on the grip and turn the bow horizontal, like so." He held it level with his chest. "Put the arrow on the rest. Look for the little shelf part, like here." He tapped it.

Then he tapped the back of the arrow. "When you string it, you make sure the nock of the arrow sticks between these two points. Bring her back around..." He turned the bow vertical. "...then put three fingers on the string while you get the arrow into position. One above the arrow, the other two beneath. Now, when you pull back, you wanna make sure you put your back into it, not your arm. Keep pulling until you can feel your finger up against your chin."

He pointed the arrow at the target up ahead. "Look down the arrow to see your target-- then let go. Gently."

The arrow whipped through the air. It didn't quite hit bullseye, but it was close.

"Now I'm not an idiot," he said, "So instead of hitting up the sim I set up for you, today, you get to practice first. Safeties are on. Pick a target and a partner. Help each other. That's it."

"Blasters are kind of like your guns, but better," Atton said. He held up one of his own, custom-made blasters. "They're lighter and the recoil isn't half as bad, just to start with. The same safety rules still hold: don't point them at anything you don't want to shoot and don't scratch your head with them no matter how old-school your animation cycles are, always check if they're charged or not, and keep your stance firm."

He gestured at the gun range behind him.

"Blaster shots won't go on almost forever like bullets do, but they do leave scorch marks," he said. "So I set up some panneling for the occasion. If you use them again in the future, try not to destroy the furniture of anybody you like."

Beat.

"That's it. Go."

Today's class took place in a room that looked like it was someone's weird, enormous back garage; the room had a low ceiling and looped around like it was C-shaped, separated from a small square starting room at the east side by twin doors. Atton waved them into the square room. It had various shotguns lying around.

"We're testing how good you guys are with a shotgun," he said. "Now, a shotgun is a close-range weapon. You'll still need some accuracy, but that's not really what it's for. When working with one of your Earth shotguns, keep in mind that you use the right ammo, 'cause they come in a whole bunch of sizes. Don't blow something off by using the wrong bullet."

He picked up a gun, demonstrating quickly how to put a shell in. And then a few more. Finally, he pressed a button and pumped the slide of the gun. It gave a clicking noise.

"You'll want to brace yourself and use both hands when you're firing this thing. No one-handed cowboy crap, because you won't hit what you want and you might just throw your whole arm out of the socket," he said. With a quick motion, he got the shell back out of the barrel.

"Today, we're doing a little time trial," he said. "Each one of you has to step into that room. A bunch of targets will appear. Whoever gets the most targets before the time ends - or they reach the end of the course - wins. Go."

"Okay, kids, today we're talking about different kinds of firearms," Atton said, "Because they all require their own kinds of strategy. Today, we're doing introduction on two of the most basic cases of 'these two weapons do completely different stuff'-- the shotgun and the sniper rifle."

What they were seeing on the table were not actual rifles. They were laser weapons, meant for the ensuing game of laser tag.

"The shotgun gives a short burst in a big spread," he said, "but the range is terrible. The rifle can take down enemies at great distance, but it takes precision and a good eye to hit anything, let alone your target."

Beat.

"We'll go into the technical stuff next week," he said. "This week, we're playing laser tag. Pick your choice - shotgun or sniper rifle - grab a harness, and head into our dungeon of doom."

Which mostly just looked like a regular laser tag arena. There were even unnecessary smoke machines involved.

It was a frazzled Atton who showed up in class five minutes late.

Sorry, class.

"I have no excuse, so I'm not giving you one," he said. "Today, I want to run you kids through some more practice with the handgun. Now, I'm not going to make you try running and gunning - usually a bad idea anyway - with a live gun, which is why we get this sim."

He waved at the extensive maze of broken-down buildings and walls before them.

"You'll get a simulated gun that acts like a handgun in every conceivable way possible," he said, "Except it doesn't shoot bullets and nobody can get hurt. Your job is to make it to the other end of this gauntlet without dying. Sometimes that's going to mean shooting something else." Beat. "Nobody give me any looks, they're made of cardboard. Still trying to shoot you, though, so I suggest not standing around like an idiot when you see one of them."

He eyed the class.

"That's it. Go."

"Today, we're shooting stuff," Atton said.

He looked at the class expectantly.

After a moment, he said, "By which I mean, grab your ear- and eyeguards, and pick a target. Any target. I mean, they're all the same anyway, so it doesn't really matter. Remember the rules we discussed on week one - they're on a plaque here somewhere too. Everyone gets twelve rounds, twelve shots, so take your time."

He gestured behind him. "Go."

"Right," Atton said.

They were standing in a classroom. A regular, nice, simple classroom that wasn't going to turn into something weird on Atton unexpectedly. "Welcome to How To Shoot Straight. We learn how to shoot things here. That's it. No weird philosophical angle or anything."

He waved at the table in front of him, which supported an impressive arsenal of... nerf guns.

"Today, I want to know how much you people know about aiming," he said. "Give me your name and a drawing of someone you'd like to shoot in the face. Then shoot them in the face. There, that's your assignment, go."