driftfleet | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Who: Vash and you
Broadcast: None
Action: A catch all for the Planet!
When: Any time until the drift starts happening again!

Twin Roses

[Your co-captain hasn't been sleeping much. Usually up at all hours when he's not visiting the planet or working at The Space Bar. Pouring over some of the maps he's been attempting to keep of their travels. Watering the planets on the ship. Playing quietly with the animals. If it's not in the middle of the night he'll practice his harmonica. Basically doing anything he can to not fall asleep.

But sleep eventually will catch him. Catch him as he's sprawled out sideways in the arm chair with his legs danging over the sides of the armrest. One arm draped over his face and the other limp on the floor. He may look like he's peacefully sleeping, but approach with care - it's not a pleasant dream he's currently having and his gun is still on his hip. Although the safety is on for those with keen enough eyes to notice.]

Le...go... [Comes the occasional mutter.]

Inside The Vault

[Those who know how important life is to Vash may be surprised to see how unemotional he is at finding all the bodies. There's just an unsurprised, yet disappointed sigh as he takes glasses out of his pocket and slides them onto his face.

"Here we go again." Is the thought that crosses his mind. He knows better than to touch or move the bodies. Back home he would dig a mass grave when he would come upon scenes like this, but not this time. Instead going one by one next to them. Stopping at each to say a small, silent prayer for them and bowing his head.]

I'm so sorry, that you were locked away and forgotten.

In the Desert

[This place has been a painful and constant reminder of the challenge he must face back home. It's also an excuse to blow off some steam, but out in the desert Vash can be found shooting his gun over and over. He's strung up a bed cloth with a crude target painted onto it. It flutters now and then in the breeze. He's chosen to use his old fashion revolver. Again and again there is the crack of gunshot and bullet casings litter the ground by his feet.

Yet the bed sheet seems to have only one small hole in the middle of it. Maybe he's just that terrible of a shot? Can't hit the broad side of a sheet.]

The Space Bar

[Catch Vash here while he's at work and he'll have a friendly smile and the food is decent as always. When he's not working, but not ready to go home he sits and drinks quietly at the bar. Thinking things over. He won't say no to company as he slowly nurses his drink.]

A Bar - Later - Locked to Anders

[Now Vash does want to be alone. He's found himself a bar on the planet that he thinks no one else will visit. He drinks himself to a point where he thinks he can sleep without nightmares, but it doesn't work. He wakes with a start and nearly falls from his bar stool as the empty bottle of whiskey falls to the floor and shatters.] Aw hell...

[He was going to have to clean that up. Even here he was cleaning up messes caused by his brother. Even if he was just in nightmare form that time. No... wait... he doesn't need to clean that up. In a few hours it will be like it never happened. Like nothing mattered here.

Nothing mattered. Nothing mattered. Nothing mattered. NOTHING MATTERED!

He grabs his empty glass and chucks it into the bottles still standing behind the bar. They shatter with a satisfying sound. He's never had a real outburst like this and he had to admit it felt good for the moment. He picks up a bar stool and smashes it over the bar with a scream and just keeps going from there.

Eventually he runs out of energy and sits quietly again with his drink on one of the few reaming bar stools. No, he does not care that his one fist is bleeding or there's a cut just above his eye where some glass hit him. He actually didn't even notice the second one.

He plans to sit there in the ruined bar and make sure everything reverts back to normal before he leaves. Surely no one will come and interrupt him here.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You saved us. What will I ever do to thank you? [She smiles at him and walks past to get a better look at the sheet.]

I'll give you concerned.

[She looks it over, finding only the one hole.] Show off. [She's pretty sure she knows what that means.] It's more impressive with arrows though when they start splitting down the middle.

[Vash opens his mouth to argue that missing shouldn't be impressive, but she's seen his memories so he shuts it again. Instead he chooses to shrug.]

Is it showing off if I thought no one would be watching? [Said the reality TV show contestant.]

Hmm...you make a good point. [Heading back to him instead of standing by his target.] I swear you never used to do that. [Smirking at him.]

I'll try not to make a habit of it so you can keep being the competent captain. [He bends and starts picking up some of the empty shells that are scattered around his feet. He's no litterer.]

Hey, I can rise to the challenge and out competent you on competent terms. Don't hold back for me, mister. [She drops down to help him, fingers brushing as they reach for the same casing. This is how meet cutes work, right?]

Oh yeah? So you want a challenge now? [He chuckles as their fingers brush. Feeling slightly embarrassed by how much he likes it when they touch. He tries to play it off as an amusing accident of two people grabbing for the same small item.] Ha, you can take that one.

[She can have that one? Ugh. That was awful. He moves quickly to another shell and tries to change the topic to cover over the stupid thing he just said.]

Although I don't think you'll like the competition if I was to completely competent the competent thoughts that I could competently about my competency!

[If he's even more confusing she probably won't notice.]

[The thing is, she kind of enjoys it too. It sends a little charge through her. A little charge that she's sure shouldn't be there because of reasons. Winn. Winn is the reasons. Still being in love with him. Not wanting to hurt him or someone else or herself by acting on impulse. Traitorous little charges should be no where near her fingers or any other parts!

She pulls the her hand and the shell away with a soft laugh.]

Even better than winning a prize at the fair.

[Luckily, she's pretty worried about her own reactions so his competent cover up actually works. More or less.] I'm getting you a thesaurus at our next stop with one. [Which is possibly this stop. She hasn't looked.]

Well, if you're that excited by an empty shell I have a bunch more you could have. [He knows she was being sarcastic. He just can't help himself.]

What? Worried I'm more competent than you at finding competent ways to use the word competent?

Maybe I will. I'll make a necklace out of them and scare my enemies who have never seen me with a gun. [It's been a minute since she's handled a firearm.]

Mmm...terrified.

Actually, a lot of people back home would do that. Only because pretty much everyone had a gun it wasn't all that scary.

I think it would be very scary on you! Or, it might be cute and you'll start a new fashion trend that will spread through the whole galaxy!

I don't know if I'm ready for that kind of fashion responsibility. [She looks amused.]

It's been awhile since I fired a gun I think. We had a range back in Marina toward the end where you could fire marshmallows. [She's not counting that.]

Marshmallows? I think I like the sound of those types of guns much better than the normal ones.

I don't think you can stop anyone with marshmallows, though I have to admit I'm surprised you use a gun when you don't want to kill anyone.

Well, I used it more as a deterrent than anything. It was harder to find someone who didn't carry a gun than one who does on my planet. Typically as long as I could draw faster than anyone else I rarely had to fire a single bullet. It's at least easier to make people second guess attacking me if I had a gun rather than if I tried to bring a sword to a gun fight.

Besides, if you get really good with any weapon you can use it without killing. [And he is really good.]

I guess I can see that. If having the gun on them first was enough to stop things, that's a pretty clean solution. I'd just think having to put warning bullets in non essential places would still have some potential future lethal consequences if they lost too much blood or it got infected. It didn't sound like your world was one with robust medical care.

No, I have to admit it's not. We could definitely use more medical advancements back home.

That's why when I say you need to be good with a weapon if you want to use one as deadly as this without killing?

[Without even a brief glance back at the sheet Vash fully turns his back to it as he speaks. Lazily he reaches his right arm up over his right shoulder. His gun still in hand only now being held behind his back. Even with the pistol behind his back and upside down he rapid fires at the sheet without looking. It doesn't sound like six shots, but nearly instantly that one hole becomes two and the remaining five shots dot a small smile under the two 'eye' holes.]

You have to be really good at with it.

[He doesn't usually show off like this. He will lie and tell himself that he wanted to prove to Kitty that he wants her to trust him in a fight.

But the truth was he also just really wanted to impress her.]

[She winces ever so slightly at the loudness of the gun's report at this proximity, and there's no real visual way to tell, but she does phase for a moment instinctively. But her eyes stay open as she keenly watches the display of marksmanship. When she speaks it's a little louder than necessary as her ears work on adjusting again. There aren't many gunfire-heavy battles back home, but some mutant powers make loud sounds and she's certainly been around plenty of explosions, but all of that was practically a life time ago now too. And if not a lifetime at least three years—more if you account for the time weirdness in Marina.

Recent near deafening aside, she does look impressed as she looks back to the sheet and shakes her head as if he just told a bad pun and she doesn't want it to be obvious how much it actually amused her.]

Okay, well, I'm here now, so that was definitely showing off this time. No getting out of it. You owe me. [As if some bet had been placed on showing off which definitely never happened, and yet here they are. She taps on his chest for emphasis and hits...cloth covered metal? Bulletproof vest?]

[He grins. Clearly pleased with himself that he was able to impress her. But that quickly changes to confusion.] Eh?! [Her finger indeed taps against a bulletproof vest. Still, even for the protective armour hidden under his jacket his chest is still a bit more misshapen then one might expect.] I don't remember agreeing to that! But alright, so what do I owe you?

Oh, yeah, totally happened. [It didn't happen. She's not even sure where she's going with this, but she should probably go somewhere.]

Teach me something. [Nodding to his gun.]

Alright. As my single and only lesson as your teacher. Don't ever use a gun unless you can use it as good as that.

[He jokes with a wink as he opens the gun's chamber and dumps the spent shells into his hand. Those he stuffs into his pocket before refilling the six shots.

With a quick spin of the barrel he then shuts it.] Alright, first real lesson? Different guns, different recoils. And this one? [He gestures to his gun before holstering it on his hip.] Can be nasty for someone who's only shot marshmallows before but--

[He heads over to the travel pack he brought out here. Bringing out a much more modern looking weapon. A laser pistol that he's picked up along their travels.] This one isn't as bad. Or as loud.

[He holds it out to her to look at.] The safety on this one is located here. [And yes it is currently on as he offers her to take it.] Did you have any experience with guns back home? A brief breakdown of the parts is how most people should be taught. But most people just learn by shooting.

[Besides, when in his life has things gone the way they're 'suppose to?']

Wow, I have fired more than a marshmallow gun, sir. [She has to give him some sass, but that was a hell of a show and she does want to hear from him on it.]

Logan trained me on every weapon we could get our hands on which was a lot of weapons. Guns were in the mix—pistols, rifles, shot guns, semi-automatics, automatics, various laser weaponry, sonic canons, and one time a rocket launcher. And probably several I'm leaving out, but you can see where I probably [definitely] didn't have time to master any of them.

[The bulk of her intensive training had been parallel to his—hand-to-hand and the claws. And her powers too of course. She is the weapon. Everything else—gun, arrow, knife, her surroundings and even her opponent are just extensions of her as the weapon. At least, that's how it was for many years. She still trains regularly, but her lived experience is wildly different. She's not disappointed in that part.]

Anatomy of the gun and how to maintain it was part of he lesson. I should be a little past the 101 stage even if it has been awhile.

[Vash whistles at the long list of weapons that she rattles off.] That really is a lot of guns! I stand corrected! I'll skip the the intro lessens then!

I still think you might want to start with this one if it's been awhile. But if you really want to give my six shooter a try you're more than welcome to.

And it wasn't just guns. [All that passion for learning and dedication to dancing had to go somewhere.]

The little one's fine. Like I said, it's been awhile. [Not that she hasn't handled some of the ship's armory.]

Alright then. Show me what you can do! [He hands over the weapon and stands aside.]

[She takes the gun and checks it over for a moment just to familiarize herself. Then she disengages the safety, adjusts her stance, and aims the gun at the sheet before squeezing the trigger. The first bullet lands high and to the right of where she wanted it, so she refocuses for a second try. It's all much slower than Vash's earlier display, but this time a hole appears in roughly the same spot she'd hoped—above and between the "eyes"—killing Mr. Smiley Face.] Got 'em.