oi there, this is my fist fan fic that i'm gonna upload. partically because it has more written...wait..i think my 82 page story of suikoden is much more than this... o.o;; ah nevermind .
but all characters featured in this story, besides the obvious ones that are my own, belong to the author, and creater of Trigun. (the name escapes me at the moment.^^;;) oi, feel free to take a gander and tell me what you think, and what i should improve upon. but i'm gonna warn you right now, that i'm not the 'best' speller so.....don't comment on that part...anywho, enjoy!
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Name: Wolfwood Thompson
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Occupation: Wanderer of Truth
DoB: November 22
PoB: December
Bio: She has the attitude of her late father whom died the day after she and her siblings were conceived. The youngest of 6, twin to her brother Nicolas (born out of sixtoplits, they are all the same age). She has found interest in mechanics since she was a child and often scolded by her kind but goofy mother. Born with aim, she can shoot a can off of a fence a mile away. That was a talent that she has kept to herself, along with her abnormal strength for her gender. She has taken it upon herself to clean up her father's old weapon, and weild it just as he once did. In the name of Truth. One thing she honors most is honesty. From which her mother taught her. Her mother, Milly Thompson, is a kind, goofy woman, with a sharp intellect. She can tell the moment you sneak out your window, she is there waiting for you. She has taught all six of her children honoring the truth and the need to survive. Nicolas, Wolfwood's twin, is considered the favorite of the bunch, he has that same intellect as his mother but with common sense. He has an air of love, and kindness about him which everybody is drawn into. But their mother has always pointed out how much he looks like his father...exactly alike, uncanny. Dee is the second oldest of the bunch, she married and moved away when she was 17 and has 2 children. Always there to offer advice in the next town over. Martin, the oldest, also married lives in the same town as they, works as a master gunsmith. Has a passion for the old technology often there to scold Wolfwood for her ideals and relishes in it. Vahn, the third oldest is a true priest, he never fails to amaze his siblings with his insight and optimistic views. One of Wolfwood's favorite brothers. Jasah, is the 4th oldest he owns a saloon in New Oregan. Not much is known about this distant brother. Wolfwood's father, along withe her other siblings, was Nicolas D. Wolfwood the traveling preist that sarifiieced his life in order not to kill. From this Wolfwood has become like her father, but from not actually from her mother nor anyone she has become the personality he once had. But with that one thing that her father learned in his last moment of life....there is another way instead of taking another life in order to survive. and she intends to use that. in search for her father death, her mother's secret past, her Aunt Meryle, and her mysterious cousins, Vashia, and Veron. (females).
Style: Her style consists of a black trench coat, black pants, black dress shirt. Her hair tied back in a black ribbion. Also riding a motorcycle that seems to break down from time to time.
Weapon: She weilds her father's Cross, in which she took from her mother's shed, she and her brother Martin cleaned and supplied ammo for. She weilds this weapon with enormous strength and grace, it doesn't wear her down at all. Seems as if she was ment to weild the firing Cross.
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A normal blistering day in the desert as suppliers are arriving into the new town of New West, that was established 15 years ago. As the suppliers are delivering their cargo to the local merchants a rather dark haired woman steps into the streets from the shade offering a hand to the merchants.
"Hey fellas, need a hand?" she offered. One of the gruff men replied, "Who do you have in mind?" The woman smirks and winks, "Me, of course." she held out her hands to level the heavey box they were shaking with. "Ha, seems the sun has gotten to you. This requires pure strength to lift." the man replied and went down the wagon with his partner that was shaking with the weight of the box.
"Maybe we could use her help boss, I mean we can't be too careful with this ammo. Or else it'll go off if we drop it." He looked weak. "No, we can..." the gruff supplier's knees were shaking.
"Wolfwood," someone called from the back. "Help the men, even if they reject it. Can't have that amunition going off in the town." the gunsmith owner from the door called to the woman.
"Well boys, looks like I'm up." she steped onto the truck and bent to her knees and placed her hands on the crate and with ease, lifted it off the ground and stepped out of the truck and walked to the gunsmith's.
"You shouldn't carry it all." the shop owner said to her.
"Martin, they would have dropped it, and you wouldn't want that now would ya?" she walked inside the gunsmith's shop.
"Thank you gentlemen, but I think my sister and I can handle it from here." the man named Martin closed the doors to the shop and followed the woman, Wolfwood in the back.
"Wolfwood, you shouldn't get so carried away like that." he cleared a spot for the crate to be set. "I mean, you never look at all the views that people have to offer. Think of how the men would have felt if a woman showed them up."
Wolfwood rolled her eyes to the back of her head and set the crate in the cleared spot martin had provided for her. "So your saying that I shouldn't be myself, even though people refuse to accept help." she took a crobar from the corner and eased it into the crease of the lid. She paused for a second to look at her brother. "Is that what your saying?" she popped the lid open.
It was Martin's turn to roll his eyes. "You read too much into things." He removed the lid t find the ammo still in one piece. "Did you clean the cross like you said you would?" he looked back at Wolfwood, whom had her arms crossed looking out the store window.
"Yeah, I'll bring it by tonight. Don't want mom to catch me with it. You know how she is, when it comes to weapons, especially that 'one.' " The two looked at each other with mutual respect. "I'll go see if any other suppliers need help."
Martin smirked to himself. "Lets see if they'll take it this time."
________________________
While Wolfwood was carrying the cargo of the baker's truck. An outsider was just walking into town. People could see him from a mile away, from the red coat he wore, and the spiky blode hair and the glint of his glasses. From what the towns people could see was that he was carrying a duffle bag behind him.
As the stranger walked through town he eyed every store, but then he caught the sweet smell of the bakers shop that seemed to have something that enticed him. But the baker was just making, donuts? The man in red immeditally ran for the shop.
Wolfwood was just coming out of the bakery when she was struck dead on by a man in red.
"Ow ow ow ow, watch it you oof! If you run like that your bound to break something!" She held her head as she rolled onto her side and stood up, she offered a hand to the stranger. "Are you alright though?" the man took her hand and was helped up.
"Yes, thank you." He smiled. The stranger looked back at the shop. "Donuts!" Wolfwood made a confused face and walked into the street.
As she wandered outside her brother's shop she decided to pick up a few loaves for her mother before she went home. The bakery was only cross the street. The red stranger walked behind her and sliped into the shop.
_____________________________________
"Hello?! Hello?! Customer!" the man yelled.
And from the back room emerged a gruff man, of average height, but with a fierce blue eyes. "What can I do for you?" he asked the stranger. "Is there some sort of ammo you would like to purchase?"
"No no, nothing like that. I would like to have my gun repaired. I heard from the folks in town that you were good." The red stranger felt nervous in front of this man. He glanced around the room seeing that the showroom that he was in was indeed well stocked, and the scent in the air was that of gunpowder.
"Thank you, I'm Martin Thompson. Let me have a look see at your piece." The shop keep set down the hand rag he was using to wipe his hands of grease from other parts. Martin took the piece from the stranger and examined it from a profile view, and slipped the cover off the gun. "This is a nice piece you got here. Custom?" he asked the stranger.
"Yes, my brother made it." his glanced shifted around the room. "The aim is alittle off, I was wondering how much it would cost to have it repaired." The stranger looked out the window to the bakery across the street.
The gunsmith set the piece down on the counter and brought out a pad and pencil, seemed that he was doing math. "It won't cost much, if its just the aim that you want fixed, but I suggest you have the broken barrel repaired also if you don't want to blow your hand off." he looked up to find the new customer eyeing the bakery.
"Yeah, I guess I would like that fixed also."
___________________________________________
Meanwhile Wolfwood was exiting the bakery with a few loaves for her mother when a band of children ran around her.
"WOLFWOOD!!! You promised to play with us today!!" a chubby brown haired child exclaimed.
"I know, I know. but the merchants needed help unloading the cargo, and you know if i didn't help then there wouldn't be any treats in the stores for your mom and dad to buy." ^^;;;; she was hoping this excuse would get her out of the children's grasp.
"We know..." a blond hair girl stood next to her. "But we like playing with you." sniffing could be heard from the girl.
"ehhhhhhhhhh...oh ALRIGHT! but no crying!!" Wolfwood set down the bag of baked goods. and the children proceed in dragging her to the street to play, "Vash the Stampede Story."
__________________________________________
The red stranger was watching as a woman was being bambared with little children argueing over who should play the role of Vash the Stampede.
"What are they talking about?" the stranger pointed outside. "Oh, looks like the children are acting out the Vash the Stampede Story, and Wolfwood is caught in the middle again. hahahahaha" The gunsmith owner laughed.
"Wolfwood!?" the man exclaimed out loud. and looked back outside. then grabed the man. "Wolfwood!?"
the gruff merchant pryed his customers hands off of him. "Yes, Wolfwood, thats the woman's name. I should know after all she is my baby sister. The youngest of sixtoplets."
"But why is she named Wolfwood?!" he grabed again. "WHY!?" again martin pryed his hands off.
"Hey pal, whats wrong with you? Come on, lets take a seat in the back and I'll tell you the story of our family." The gun smithy took hold of the stranger's shoulders and led him to the back and took a glance back at Wolfwood being jumped by the children, and silently chucked to himself at the sight.
_________________________________________
Martin sat the man down at a table in the back of his shop and gave him a glass of water while he seated himself. "Well, first off, lets start with your name stranger. It would save me the trouble of calling you stranger. hahaha"
The blond man looked up. "My name is Vash the Stampede." and took a sip of that water that was given to him.
"Hmmm, well this will save me lots of trouble of explaining to you then." Martin stopped to look at him. "As you know my name is Martin Thompson. I am the eldest son of the sixtoplets of Milly Thompson. You should know her."
Martin stopped again to look at Vash but there was no reaction. "Yes, I know her." Vash looked up at him. "but why the name Wolfwood?"
the smithy owner laughed to himself. "Because that is the name of our father. Our mother named us after people she knew, or our father you see, I'm Martin, after my mother's freind, Meryl. there is my sister Dee, she is the second, after our father's middle name. and the third is Vahn, hes a preist here in town. He was named after you. There is Jasah, I don't know who he was named after, my mother has her reasons. then there is Nicolas and Wolfwood. they are the only twins in the bunch of us. and my mother saw papa in they're eyes when they were born."
Martin leaned back into his chair. "That is why, Nicolas D. Wolfwood, the minister in black, was our father. Do you understand now?"
Vash leaned forward abit and came up with a smile. "I guess I should've kept contact with Milly." Martin nodded, "You should have, she told the story to the children, the little buggers love her."
there was an akward silence between the two, "Say, why don't you come over for dinner? Aunt Meryl is riding into town with her twin girls, and i might say they look alot like you." Martin smiled. Vash lifted his head in a rush and droped his jaw...."w..what?"
but all characters featured in this story, besides the obvious ones that are my own, belong to the author, and creater of Trigun. (the name escapes me at the moment.^^;;) oi, feel free to take a gander and tell me what you think, and what i should improve upon. but i'm gonna warn you right now, that i'm not the 'best' speller so.....don't comment on that part...anywho, enjoy!
***********************
Name: Wolfwood Thompson
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Occupation: Wanderer of Truth
DoB: November 22
PoB: December
Bio: She has the attitude of her late father whom died the day after she and her siblings were conceived. The youngest of 6, twin to her brother Nicolas (born out of sixtoplits, they are all the same age). She has found interest in mechanics since she was a child and often scolded by her kind but goofy mother. Born with aim, she can shoot a can off of a fence a mile away. That was a talent that she has kept to herself, along with her abnormal strength for her gender. She has taken it upon herself to clean up her father's old weapon, and weild it just as he once did. In the name of Truth. One thing she honors most is honesty. From which her mother taught her. Her mother, Milly Thompson, is a kind, goofy woman, with a sharp intellect. She can tell the moment you sneak out your window, she is there waiting for you. She has taught all six of her children honoring the truth and the need to survive. Nicolas, Wolfwood's twin, is considered the favorite of the bunch, he has that same intellect as his mother but with common sense. He has an air of love, and kindness about him which everybody is drawn into. But their mother has always pointed out how much he looks like his father...exactly alike, uncanny. Dee is the second oldest of the bunch, she married and moved away when she was 17 and has 2 children. Always there to offer advice in the next town over. Martin, the oldest, also married lives in the same town as they, works as a master gunsmith. Has a passion for the old technology often there to scold Wolfwood for her ideals and relishes in it. Vahn, the third oldest is a true priest, he never fails to amaze his siblings with his insight and optimistic views. One of Wolfwood's favorite brothers. Jasah, is the 4th oldest he owns a saloon in New Oregan. Not much is known about this distant brother. Wolfwood's father, along withe her other siblings, was Nicolas D. Wolfwood the traveling preist that sarifiieced his life in order not to kill. From this Wolfwood has become like her father, but from not actually from her mother nor anyone she has become the personality he once had. But with that one thing that her father learned in his last moment of life....there is another way instead of taking another life in order to survive. and she intends to use that. in search for her father death, her mother's secret past, her Aunt Meryle, and her mysterious cousins, Vashia, and Veron. (females).
Style: Her style consists of a black trench coat, black pants, black dress shirt. Her hair tied back in a black ribbion. Also riding a motorcycle that seems to break down from time to time.
Weapon: She weilds her father's Cross, in which she took from her mother's shed, she and her brother Martin cleaned and supplied ammo for. She weilds this weapon with enormous strength and grace, it doesn't wear her down at all. Seems as if she was ment to weild the firing Cross.
_______________________________________________________________
A normal blistering day in the desert as suppliers are arriving into the new town of New West, that was established 15 years ago. As the suppliers are delivering their cargo to the local merchants a rather dark haired woman steps into the streets from the shade offering a hand to the merchants.
"Hey fellas, need a hand?" she offered. One of the gruff men replied, "Who do you have in mind?" The woman smirks and winks, "Me, of course." she held out her hands to level the heavey box they were shaking with. "Ha, seems the sun has gotten to you. This requires pure strength to lift." the man replied and went down the wagon with his partner that was shaking with the weight of the box.
"Maybe we could use her help boss, I mean we can't be too careful with this ammo. Or else it'll go off if we drop it." He looked weak. "No, we can..." the gruff supplier's knees were shaking.
"Wolfwood," someone called from the back. "Help the men, even if they reject it. Can't have that amunition going off in the town." the gunsmith owner from the door called to the woman.
"Well boys, looks like I'm up." she steped onto the truck and bent to her knees and placed her hands on the crate and with ease, lifted it off the ground and stepped out of the truck and walked to the gunsmith's.
"You shouldn't carry it all." the shop owner said to her.
"Martin, they would have dropped it, and you wouldn't want that now would ya?" she walked inside the gunsmith's shop.
"Thank you gentlemen, but I think my sister and I can handle it from here." the man named Martin closed the doors to the shop and followed the woman, Wolfwood in the back.
"Wolfwood, you shouldn't get so carried away like that." he cleared a spot for the crate to be set. "I mean, you never look at all the views that people have to offer. Think of how the men would have felt if a woman showed them up."
Wolfwood rolled her eyes to the back of her head and set the crate in the cleared spot martin had provided for her. "So your saying that I shouldn't be myself, even though people refuse to accept help." she took a crobar from the corner and eased it into the crease of the lid. She paused for a second to look at her brother. "Is that what your saying?" she popped the lid open.
It was Martin's turn to roll his eyes. "You read too much into things." He removed the lid t find the ammo still in one piece. "Did you clean the cross like you said you would?" he looked back at Wolfwood, whom had her arms crossed looking out the store window.
"Yeah, I'll bring it by tonight. Don't want mom to catch me with it. You know how she is, when it comes to weapons, especially that 'one.' " The two looked at each other with mutual respect. "I'll go see if any other suppliers need help."
Martin smirked to himself. "Lets see if they'll take it this time."
________________________
While Wolfwood was carrying the cargo of the baker's truck. An outsider was just walking into town. People could see him from a mile away, from the red coat he wore, and the spiky blode hair and the glint of his glasses. From what the towns people could see was that he was carrying a duffle bag behind him.
As the stranger walked through town he eyed every store, but then he caught the sweet smell of the bakers shop that seemed to have something that enticed him. But the baker was just making, donuts? The man in red immeditally ran for the shop.
Wolfwood was just coming out of the bakery when she was struck dead on by a man in red.
"Ow ow ow ow, watch it you oof! If you run like that your bound to break something!" She held her head as she rolled onto her side and stood up, she offered a hand to the stranger. "Are you alright though?" the man took her hand and was helped up.
"Yes, thank you." He smiled. The stranger looked back at the shop. "Donuts!" Wolfwood made a confused face and walked into the street.
As she wandered outside her brother's shop she decided to pick up a few loaves for her mother before she went home. The bakery was only cross the street. The red stranger walked behind her and sliped into the shop.
_____________________________________
"Hello?! Hello?! Customer!" the man yelled.
And from the back room emerged a gruff man, of average height, but with a fierce blue eyes. "What can I do for you?" he asked the stranger. "Is there some sort of ammo you would like to purchase?"
"No no, nothing like that. I would like to have my gun repaired. I heard from the folks in town that you were good." The red stranger felt nervous in front of this man. He glanced around the room seeing that the showroom that he was in was indeed well stocked, and the scent in the air was that of gunpowder.
"Thank you, I'm Martin Thompson. Let me have a look see at your piece." The shop keep set down the hand rag he was using to wipe his hands of grease from other parts. Martin took the piece from the stranger and examined it from a profile view, and slipped the cover off the gun. "This is a nice piece you got here. Custom?" he asked the stranger.
"Yes, my brother made it." his glanced shifted around the room. "The aim is alittle off, I was wondering how much it would cost to have it repaired." The stranger looked out the window to the bakery across the street.
The gunsmith set the piece down on the counter and brought out a pad and pencil, seemed that he was doing math. "It won't cost much, if its just the aim that you want fixed, but I suggest you have the broken barrel repaired also if you don't want to blow your hand off." he looked up to find the new customer eyeing the bakery.
"Yeah, I guess I would like that fixed also."
___________________________________________
Meanwhile Wolfwood was exiting the bakery with a few loaves for her mother when a band of children ran around her.
"WOLFWOOD!!! You promised to play with us today!!" a chubby brown haired child exclaimed.
"I know, I know. but the merchants needed help unloading the cargo, and you know if i didn't help then there wouldn't be any treats in the stores for your mom and dad to buy." ^^;;;; she was hoping this excuse would get her out of the children's grasp.
"We know..." a blond hair girl stood next to her. "But we like playing with you." sniffing could be heard from the girl.
"ehhhhhhhhhh...oh ALRIGHT! but no crying!!" Wolfwood set down the bag of baked goods. and the children proceed in dragging her to the street to play, "Vash the Stampede Story."
__________________________________________
The red stranger was watching as a woman was being bambared with little children argueing over who should play the role of Vash the Stampede.
"What are they talking about?" the stranger pointed outside. "Oh, looks like the children are acting out the Vash the Stampede Story, and Wolfwood is caught in the middle again. hahahahaha" The gunsmith owner laughed.
"Wolfwood!?" the man exclaimed out loud. and looked back outside. then grabed the man. "Wolfwood!?"
the gruff merchant pryed his customers hands off of him. "Yes, Wolfwood, thats the woman's name. I should know after all she is my baby sister. The youngest of sixtoplets."
"But why is she named Wolfwood?!" he grabed again. "WHY!?" again martin pryed his hands off.
"Hey pal, whats wrong with you? Come on, lets take a seat in the back and I'll tell you the story of our family." The gun smithy took hold of the stranger's shoulders and led him to the back and took a glance back at Wolfwood being jumped by the children, and silently chucked to himself at the sight.
_________________________________________
Martin sat the man down at a table in the back of his shop and gave him a glass of water while he seated himself. "Well, first off, lets start with your name stranger. It would save me the trouble of calling you stranger. hahaha"
The blond man looked up. "My name is Vash the Stampede." and took a sip of that water that was given to him.
"Hmmm, well this will save me lots of trouble of explaining to you then." Martin stopped to look at him. "As you know my name is Martin Thompson. I am the eldest son of the sixtoplets of Milly Thompson. You should know her."
Martin stopped again to look at Vash but there was no reaction. "Yes, I know her." Vash looked up at him. "but why the name Wolfwood?"
the smithy owner laughed to himself. "Because that is the name of our father. Our mother named us after people she knew, or our father you see, I'm Martin, after my mother's freind, Meryl. there is my sister Dee, she is the second, after our father's middle name. and the third is Vahn, hes a preist here in town. He was named after you. There is Jasah, I don't know who he was named after, my mother has her reasons. then there is Nicolas and Wolfwood. they are the only twins in the bunch of us. and my mother saw papa in they're eyes when they were born."
Martin leaned back into his chair. "That is why, Nicolas D. Wolfwood, the minister in black, was our father. Do you understand now?"
Vash leaned forward abit and came up with a smile. "I guess I should've kept contact with Milly." Martin nodded, "You should have, she told the story to the children, the little buggers love her."
there was an akward silence between the two, "Say, why don't you come over for dinner? Aunt Meryl is riding into town with her twin girls, and i might say they look alot like you." Martin smiled. Vash lifted his head in a rush and droped his jaw...."w..what?"