Ten Guns, Two Roses
Chapter 5 - Hornfreak
Author's Note: Well, what do you think thus far? Please lemme know by giving me a review. ::cute eyes:: C'mmon.... I won't be offended if it's a bad review... just let me know that people are actually reading this fic, and I'm not writing it for no reason.
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Wolfwod didn't answer. He couldn't. Not only was the last person he wanted to see in his one moment of weakness there, but Midvalley mocked him somehow by calling him Chapel. As if reaffirming that Nick was a monster who let his best friend die alone. And so, the dark-haired male continued to nurse his drink, all the while ignoring Midvalley. And the sax player noticed this. Looking somewhat put out that his former friend hadn't answered, Midvalley leaned on a section of the bar next to Wolfwood and stared at him.
A frown crossed the Gung-Ho Gun's lips, and then he spoke, "C'mmon Chapel... at least acknowledge I'm here."
"S'Nick," the priest drawled, his winter-gray eyes rolling up slowly to meet Midvalley's. If there was one thing he wanted right now, it was to denounce any ties he had to the group of people that had killed his best friend. And so he wasn't about to let the dark-haired sax player call him by his Gung-Ho Gun name...
Midvalley, however, didn't seem to care. "I like Chapel better," he replied simply, sitting down on a rickety stool that stood next to Wolfwood's.
"Fuck -off-, Midvalley," the dark-haired priest snarled in a low, menacing voice as he stood suddenly. He didn't need this... he didn't need someone he really didn't want to see sitting down next to him, all the while pretending that it was alright... and calling him by a name he despised. Maybe if the sax player had shown up before he had let Vash run off and get killed, he would have allowed him to call him Chapel. But not now - not with the burden he was carrying. Not when he knew somehow that he was supposed to die back there, not Vash.
And this outburst seemed to piss Midvalley off somehow. "Look, Chapel - Nick - what the hell ever you want to be called. I didn't come here to take this shit."
* Good, then maybe you'll leave before I have to, * Wolfwood though bitterly, as he reached into his jacket pocket for a cigarette as he waited for Midvalley to leave. When the sax player didn't move, the dark-haired priest moved to instead, only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder.
"Wolfwood... just hear me out, ok?" Midvalley asked, his voice suddenly soft again. And had the priest been looking, he would have seen a certian softness to his companion's eyes... something that hadn't been there for as long as Nick could remember. Something like fear... and pleading.
"Make it quick."
Midvalley inhaled sharply and held the breath in for a moment before letting it out. "I'm here because I want to talk to you about something," he said finally, and Wolfwood grunted making it clear that he was listening. "I..." A pause. "I want to get out of the Gung-Ho Guns." And as the sylables fell from Midvalley's lips, the priest's eyes flew to his face searching for signs of deception. And he found none.
"You want out?" Wolfwood demanded, still trying to decide whether or not he thought the sax player was sincere.
A nod, and Midvalley replied a little defensively, "Yeah, is there something wrong with that?"
"I guess not."
"And I came here, hoping to find a friend. I mean, I know you Cha - Wolfwood. I know that you're not with the Gung-Ho's anymore... I don't think Legato knows - he's not to keen when it comes to those sort of things - but he doesn't know you like I do. So, I came here hoping you could impart whatever small knowledge you used to get out of the group to me."
Wolfwood shrugged, and replied, "There is no knowledge." And at this the sax player looked a little put out, but the priest quickly added, "But you've got a friend in me, Midvalley - I won't let another one of my best friends kick the bucket because of me."
Now confusion flooded the dark-haired other's features. "What'dya mean?"
Grief smashed into the priest's chest like a blow from a sledgehammer. "Vash's dead."
"Knives, right?" Wolfwood nodded. "I'll help you get him, Nick... so help me God."
Chapter 5 - Hornfreak
Author's Note: Well, what do you think thus far? Please lemme know by giving me a review. ::cute eyes:: C'mmon.... I won't be offended if it's a bad review... just let me know that people are actually reading this fic, and I'm not writing it for no reason.
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Wolfwod didn't answer. He couldn't. Not only was the last person he wanted to see in his one moment of weakness there, but Midvalley mocked him somehow by calling him Chapel. As if reaffirming that Nick was a monster who let his best friend die alone. And so, the dark-haired male continued to nurse his drink, all the while ignoring Midvalley. And the sax player noticed this. Looking somewhat put out that his former friend hadn't answered, Midvalley leaned on a section of the bar next to Wolfwood and stared at him.
A frown crossed the Gung-Ho Gun's lips, and then he spoke, "C'mmon Chapel... at least acknowledge I'm here."
"S'Nick," the priest drawled, his winter-gray eyes rolling up slowly to meet Midvalley's. If there was one thing he wanted right now, it was to denounce any ties he had to the group of people that had killed his best friend. And so he wasn't about to let the dark-haired sax player call him by his Gung-Ho Gun name...
Midvalley, however, didn't seem to care. "I like Chapel better," he replied simply, sitting down on a rickety stool that stood next to Wolfwood's.
"Fuck -off-, Midvalley," the dark-haired priest snarled in a low, menacing voice as he stood suddenly. He didn't need this... he didn't need someone he really didn't want to see sitting down next to him, all the while pretending that it was alright... and calling him by a name he despised. Maybe if the sax player had shown up before he had let Vash run off and get killed, he would have allowed him to call him Chapel. But not now - not with the burden he was carrying. Not when he knew somehow that he was supposed to die back there, not Vash.
And this outburst seemed to piss Midvalley off somehow. "Look, Chapel - Nick - what the hell ever you want to be called. I didn't come here to take this shit."
* Good, then maybe you'll leave before I have to, * Wolfwood though bitterly, as he reached into his jacket pocket for a cigarette as he waited for Midvalley to leave. When the sax player didn't move, the dark-haired priest moved to instead, only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder.
"Wolfwood... just hear me out, ok?" Midvalley asked, his voice suddenly soft again. And had the priest been looking, he would have seen a certian softness to his companion's eyes... something that hadn't been there for as long as Nick could remember. Something like fear... and pleading.
"Make it quick."
Midvalley inhaled sharply and held the breath in for a moment before letting it out. "I'm here because I want to talk to you about something," he said finally, and Wolfwood grunted making it clear that he was listening. "I..." A pause. "I want to get out of the Gung-Ho Guns." And as the sylables fell from Midvalley's lips, the priest's eyes flew to his face searching for signs of deception. And he found none.
"You want out?" Wolfwood demanded, still trying to decide whether or not he thought the sax player was sincere.
A nod, and Midvalley replied a little defensively, "Yeah, is there something wrong with that?"
"I guess not."
"And I came here, hoping to find a friend. I mean, I know you Cha - Wolfwood. I know that you're not with the Gung-Ho's anymore... I don't think Legato knows - he's not to keen when it comes to those sort of things - but he doesn't know you like I do. So, I came here hoping you could impart whatever small knowledge you used to get out of the group to me."
Wolfwood shrugged, and replied, "There is no knowledge." And at this the sax player looked a little put out, but the priest quickly added, "But you've got a friend in me, Midvalley - I won't let another one of my best friends kick the bucket because of me."
Now confusion flooded the dark-haired other's features. "What'dya mean?"
Grief smashed into the priest's chest like a blow from a sledgehammer. "Vash's dead."
"Knives, right?" Wolfwood nodded. "I'll help you get him, Nick... so help me God."
