[ it was a hell of a mission. across the globe all different ways, using a compass that pointed towards whatever you most desired, and charming had managed to take a scary-powerful witch home with him as his russian mail-order bride, while emma couldn't even take away the compass, let alone a hint about where she might find her mother.
it's no wonder she's spending her time in the shooting range, going through boxes of ammunition as she practices (attack 15, 24, 16, 17, 15). the shots go off in clusters, and most of them land in or around the center of the target's chest, though one drifts up to go straight through the paper cutout's head.
she lowers her gun, exasperated with the few shots that didn't make their mark, and strips off her protective earmuffs, setting the gun on the counter in front of her and turning away. her hands find her hips and she paces. she'd rather spend time here than in the rest of the castle, and she'd certainly rather spend time here than in her room where she can just be reminded of the lingering bitterness about what she'd found there earlier this year. ]
emma swan • OTA
it's no wonder she's spending her time in the shooting range, going through boxes of ammunition as she practices (attack 15, 24, 16, 17, 15). the shots go off in clusters, and most of them land in or around the center of the target's chest, though one drifts up to go straight through the paper cutout's head.
she lowers her gun, exasperated with the few shots that didn't make their mark, and strips off her protective earmuffs, setting the gun on the counter in front of her and turning away. her hands find her hips and she paces. she'd rather spend time here than in the rest of the castle, and she'd certainly rather spend time here than in her room where she can just be reminded of the lingering bitterness about what she'd found there earlier this year. ]