drab
drab·ble (drab´'l) n. : a
story exactly 100 words long, excluding title
25.
Lessons
Finger jabbed into the book, facing
down his brother's glare, Vash drew breath - and Rem laughed, cutting him off.
Slightly sheepish, slightly shocked, he turned his attention back to her.
Philosophy lessons certainly were the
most raucous.
Smiling, she took up her lecture once
more, "I think that's enough of Aquinas and angels for today." Vash
immediately pouted, eyes glistening and lower lip trembling. She ruffled fingers
through spiky hair, skewing it, "We'll come back to it later.
"Knives, can you give me a
definition of existentialism?"
He pondered her silently a moment
before declaring with relish, "I alone exist."
26.
Unbent
Wolfwood stared, scratching his head,
"So . . . what is it?"
Vash's smile faltered for just a
moment, "What do you mean what is it?"
The priest's hand circled vaguely,
"What . . . is it?"
Exasperated, Vash thrust the object at
his friend once more, "What does it look like?"
Wolfwood shrugged.
"For Chrissake, it's a
cigarette!"
"Don't take the Lord's name in
vain," admonished Wolfwood. Vash rolled his eyes. The dark haired man
tilted his head at the cylinder, "Are you sure?" Vash growled.
Suddenly, Wolfwood snapped his fingers,
"I get it!"
He snatched the cigarette from Vash and
bent it in half.
27.
Mortality
Sitting next to him - in her memory
reliving that terrifying search, her panic in fading blue light - Meryl hated
the angle of his hair. Rubble had cut her hands before she found him, blood a
sacrament to her need. She hated that stain, the injured air of the once-city
sizzling above it.
She remembered and she sat - head on
his shoulder with ideal and impossible closeness. Not turning, not losing that
red edge she could touch, she asked about the blackness.
He laughed a little, fingers she couldn't
see reaching for his divided hair, "Why, to be more like you."
28.
Different
Knives stalked past the group in a
swift economy of motion. His hand compulsively smoothed blurred edge of maroon
and white as he eyed his brother's companions disdainfully. The jaded priest
and his vacant bride. It was almost worth a laugh. His brother and . . .
The lines of his body melted into a
sudden, rippling stillness. His finger glided along her unwilling jaw, touching
the tip of her chin to urge it upwards. Unwavering grey eyes flashed under
scrutiny.
Malice and wonder in his gaze, Knives
breathed to his brother, "She looks just like Her."
"No. She's much shorter,"
Vash defended.
29.
Sinister Manus
The wall - cool and flat - felt faintly
of worship, Legato knew. It was the rich taste of pain against his head as his
Master tested his faith, and knelt before him. He wasn't worthy of that pure
truthful man whose hands ran skillfully along his belt, tugging slightly.
He didn't deserve it - his Master
pleasing him. His Master debased in front of him and wanting it so badly. Legato
restrained a shuddering, tearful breath as His fingers brushed carefully across
. . .
And touched his hand, left. He snatched
it up, pressing a devoted kiss into it's palm.
"Don't cross your fingers."
30.
Brotherly Love
"What?" Wolfwood gaped,
hastily moving to snag the half spent cigarette that fell from his shocked
mouth. Blowing on finger tips that received the burning end, he asked again for
Vash to explain, "Say that again?"
"It's just as I said, it'd be
like sleeping with my brother."
"You think of me like a
brother?"
Vash shook his head, "No, I mean
it literally. If you're telling me the truth, Knives screws Legato, Legato
does Midvalley, and you're Midvalley's bitch."
"I wouldn't put it that
way," interjected the priest.
"If I slept with you, I'd be
sleeping with my brother."
notes: Oddly, I think I only have comments on one
this time around. You're all pretty much used to my Oedipus complex thing
and general strangeness. I presume everyone gets the history lesson
from the first one, but it doesn't matter if you don't. However, the title
to #29 needs a bit of explaining. It's a pun. In Latin. Why
exactly haven't you guys beaten me to death for doing this crap I'll never
know. Anyway. As you might guess, sinister means, well,
"sinister." It can be unlucky, or, more loosely, evil.
Manus means soldier. So one meaning is "evil soldier", an
obvious reference to Legato himself. However, sinister also means
"left" and manus also means "hand." Isn't Latin fun?
Sometimes sinister also means lucky, so you can mix and match on the meanings to
your heart's content.
And since I'm on a roll, I'll explain the last line of
#29. I don't care if you understood it. Just call me Inez, k?
Anyway, Knives tells Legato not to cross his fingers, a double reference.
Firstly, not to keep his hopes up. Duh. Secondly, not to act like
Vash. Seeing as how Vash's Love&Peace pose includes crossed
fingers. But I'll bet you already knew that.
Trigun is copyright (c) Yasuhiro Nightow and Young King Ours.
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