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The guy who went AFK for a few months
[ *  *  * ]
"Alright, I'm just going to open the door so we can see each other properly, ok? No potshots now, or I'll return fire."

With this, Will carefully pushed open the door, letting out a groaning creaking noise as it swung open into rusted hinges. He waited a few seconds, then poked the snout of the revolver around the doorframe, and then his head, eyes searching for the boy who had responded.

The kid was crouched behind a desk, looking at the door, and by extension Will. The kid wasn't one he knew at all, one of the many faces that he passed by in hallways without properly registering them in his mind, just another face in the crowd.

In one smooth motion Will drew up the revolver and aimed it at the kid. Short of a bullet, there was no way in hell he was taking the shot, but the kid didn't have to know that. And besides, hadn't it been a Lord who had said "You get more from a kind word and a gun than you can from just a kind word?"

Or maybe that had been Al Capone.

Either way, this would make everything easier, for him at least, the boy was probably crapping himself, but that was how life went he supposed. His thumb roasted lightly on the hammer of the gun, and his arm was rock-steady, despite it's rather heavy weight. He had held rifles and shotguns, this was no different. Except for the human on the other end of the barrel, and not a deer, fowl, or pest. There was that.

"Let's start with names, shall we? Will. Will McKinley."
You don't win the game of death by dying first. The name's a little misleading.

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