"Yeah I sure wasn't, but if I did my job right the recoil should chamber the new round almost on its own. Make it work with the user instead of against them..."
The author here would like to note that he is perfectly aware of why revolvers in the real world are the way they are; River's undying hate for them as a design has to do with how they don't work with bullets as she knows them and instead seem like they were designed for some other kind of ammunition, which, you know, they were.
She runs into the forge the moment Watson starts firing and thrusts a metal rod - it was to be a sword, eventually - into the flame to create a crude torch so she can see properly. Bullets, bullets - there, the spares she's already finished. River slaps the crate onto the ground and kicks it Watson's direction, and it slides thickly.
"That's about forty rounds ready to fire right now, and I've got sixty more I can etch if you can buy me time. Aim for the stars, those are the bones."
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The author here would like to note that he is perfectly aware of why revolvers in the real world are the way they are; River's undying hate for them as a design has to do with how they don't work with bullets as she knows them and instead seem like they were designed for some other kind of ammunition, which, you know, they were.
She runs into the forge the moment Watson starts firing and thrusts a metal rod - it was to be a sword, eventually - into the flame to create a crude torch so she can see properly. Bullets, bullets - there, the spares she's already finished. River slaps the crate onto the ground and kicks it Watson's direction, and it slides thickly.
"That's about forty rounds ready to fire right now, and I've got sixty more I can etch if you can buy me time. Aim for the stars, those are the bones."