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(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

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.

Noooo! [Vash cries out in mock horror.] Not mister happy! He was on his way to the hospital because his wife went into labor! [He falls to his knees as he shakes his fists at the sky.] IT WAS TWINS! TWIIIIIINS!

[Twins may be on his mind at the moment as he tries to twists his thoughts into something silly.]

[She flicks the safety back on and lowers the weapon, just shaking her head at him and his display and sighing.] Is this part of the lesson? I think I want my money back.

[But she is watching him curiously because the twins choice is...notable.]

Firstly. You didn't pay me. I'm pretty sure you actually used a form of blackmail? Or well, something like that.

[His voice is casual as he jumps back up onto his feet.]

Secondly. I suppose it is a sort of lesson? Although likely another one you won't really need, but an important to remember when you squeeze that trigger and take someone's life? It's not just their life that you're taking.

But it's okay. Mrs Smiley was having an affair. She'll get over it. [Maybe if she had been someone else he would have argued more about how no one has the right to take the life of another instead of trying for a joke. Only it wasn't someone else, it was Kitty, and for some reason he didn't really want to start that argument up more than he already just did.

A possible first for him.]

[This may have been Vash lite, but it still hits her more than she'd like it to.]

Vash, you really don't need to explain the gravity of taking someone's life to me. Just because I've made that call doesn't mean I've made it lightly. [And she had to make it a lot and as much as she knows it was the only way to survive and the only way to protect there she still thinks about the cost. About what that makes her. And so hearing someone even brush the subject—someone whose opinions are starting to matter to her—is hard to take.]

Except when it was a smiley face on a sheet because sheets aren't alive and if they were that one was dead before I got to it.

[She offers the gun back to him, not so eager to continue lessons.]

I know you wouldn't make it lightly. [He feels bad that he's ruined the mood now as he takes back the gun. He just can't help himself after over a century of sprouting his ~~unattainable~~ ideals.]

Of course, now I'm picturing a planet full of sheet people. What do they use to sleep on at night? Do they get too warm? Too cold? Do the babies come from sewing machines? Do they judge age by thread count? What do they throw over themselves to pretend to be ghosts? A table? [He rattles these thoughts out loud in an attempt to lighten the mood a bit.]

[Maybe not so unattainable in some worlds. Better worlds than theirs. Then again, maybe not.]

Do you?

...Know that I wouldn't make it lightly. [Because yes, she's kipping all the banter as her mood fails to lighten even with all the effort. She keeps her eyes forward instead of looking back at him.]

Of course I do. [Vash notices that she's not looking at him. So he tries his best to put his full sincerity behind his voice as he gently puts a hand on her shoulder.] Because I've gotten to know you and you're a good person who cares about others. Someone like that could never make choices like those lightly.

If you believe that then why the lecture over the sheet? You don't have to think I'm a good person. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't. [It's not really something she expects from people. She can only barely get it from herself.]

Hmm. [There's a pause for that first question.] I guess, because I've been saying things like that for so long I sometimes don't know when to stop. [Or how to.]

Of course I don't think you're a bad person. You've seen the things I've done. [The only person in the Fleet who saw and knows of his darkest memory. Where he took the life of another.] Do you think I'm a bad person because of what I've done?

Vash... [She sighs, because she hates admitting this to him when he thinks of her as a good person, because surely it will change his mind, but it's the truth.]

The only thing I saw wrong in that memory is that you didn't do it sooner. [That he risked all those innocent lives for a man who not only didn't want to be saved, but actively wanted to harm others.]

Edited 2018-05-06 02:57 (UTC)

[There's a small bitter smile that spread across his face.] You know, my best friend back home probably would have told me the same thing. [Except for the part where he's dead.] Just because we wouldn't agree didn't make him or you a bad person.

[He was a complicated person.]

[Well, she's kind of dead if you want to be technical about it. But she's also standing here very much alive too, so what are technicalities?]

What's he like? Your best friend.

He was here. Really briefly. [And Vash is honestly really bitter about that.] Did you get a chance to meet Wolfwood at all?

No, I didn't. When was that? [Pretty sure it was while she was busy being in a coma for two months.]

Actually, you may have been in a coma. [QUICKLY MOVING ON.]

He's a priest. Sort of. He's kind of a terrible one.

[Ah, that would do it. Though she feels bad now missing out on meeting his friend.]

Terrible how? Because he'd advise you to kill people?

Well, his religion did tend to preach that thou shall not kill line.

Around the wrong people the turning the other cheek thing just leaves you with no cheeks.

Violence only leads to more violence. By showing people there is always another way is a way to end it.