Half
Disclaimer: Trigun and all characters therein are ©Yasuhiro Nightow. All original characters are mine.
Prologue
30 years earlier.
He stood, his back turned to the only man awake in this world that was older than himself, his arms crossed over his chest in a patient manner, his face calm, gaze set firmly ahead, muscles relaxed; waiting. The tank he stood before cast a light that reached even the farthest corners of the room, reflecting off the metal walls, playing over the cool surface of the large computer consoles, putting their feeble glow to shame. This light, stained a translucent blue, illuminated the man's features; it paled his skin, lengthened the shadows that had drawn over his face. It grew shallow in the glacier hue of his eyes, and highlighted his platinum hair. The older doctor behind him shifted slightly, frowning as potential problems with this flooded into his mind. He paused, stepping to the left of the taller man, following his gaze to the tank, and focusing on the being inside it. Metal supports had been installed within the thick glass walls only a week earlier, to support the form of a child who had been held within there, healing for the past 3 days. Her once blond hair had, in that time, turned a dark black, and had grown. Now long and abundant, it fell over her small shoulders and back, reaching to her waist. The skin of her naked form was light, almost pale, and the glow contrasted sharply against her. They would have dressed her before putting her inside, but it wouldn't have made any difference. The blue light that carressed all their forms and the walls so peacefully, was in actuality, energy. Beyond the glass walls, to them, it appeared simply as light, but inside... Inside, it was nothing but pure, concentrated energy; an intense force that would have eaten through the fabric of whatever she wore and left her nude anyway. The energy had only one purpose; to heal, to regenerate, and it wasn't going to work around the artificial material tha was clothing, just for the sake of decency. The doctor had been slightly startled, when the platinum-haired man beside him spoke. His voice broke through the room's peaceful quiet (aside from the monotonous hum of the computers), calm, set, and commanding. In control, in utter control.
"She's ready to join us now, Conrad."
Conrad blinked, looking at the child doubtfully, before turning his gaze to the man beside him. She'd only been in the tank for 3 days, and he personally would rather that she stay for another few. But... the decision was not his own. Without a word, he turned and walked to one of the larger screens, tapping several keys over the huge console, his eyes lifted to stare at the screen. He punched in the number of the tank, accessing it's command center. Typing in the last of his orders, he tapped a larger key to his right, and turned to face the tank, which had begun to process the entered command. The blond hadn't moved from his spot, arms still crossed over his broad chest, gaze still focused on the young girl, as the energy withing the glass began to drain.A small pipe had opened, and it took only seconds before the level of raw energy within the tank had dropped to zero, the room no longer so brightly lit. Conrad flicked a small switch, activating short-energy lights overhead, and turned to enter the next command. The sleek supporters began to retract, lowering the girl's form to the ground, where she lay quite peacefully. Finally, the taller of the two men moved, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he snatched a bundle of clothes that he had brought down earlier, reaching and entering a code that only Conrad and himself knew, into the keypad beside the large tank, triggering a small metal door to hiss open. He retrieved the little girl, nodding to the doctor once he had brought her out and set her on one of the larger tables that were in the room, Conrad, in turn, proceded to shut down the tank, as the tall blond dressed the girl. The outfit, was identical to the one's that he and his brother had worn as children. Conrad didn't know the entirety of his plans with the girl, but he had an idea, a generalized outline of it all. He frowned and turned to another console, this one smaller, pressing large touch-pad and glancing to the large moniter above as the screen flashed several windows, he typing in a password and command for each, until finally he accessed the tank's database. It gave him a list of various subjects it had held, and he waited until it showed him what he was looking for.
M:ARK//T164... STATUS: EXP188
ID TAG: 005963728
He stared at the readout for another moment, before a small smile twitched at his lips, and he began to delete the girl's ID TAG that filed her into their database. For several seconds, the cursor blinked in the blank space, and his smile grew fond as he changed her status, and entered her name.
M:ARK//T164
STATUS: SUBJ
NAME: MILLIONS, JACLYN
Tapping the large pad again, the window that had dominated the screen flashed.
SUBJECT REVISED.
The screen went blank, and he turned back to the other two. He still couldn't help but wonder...
"How do you know that he'll find her?"
Knives simply smiled, satisfied, down at the girl, pushing dark bangs from the child's face. He gathered her sleeping form into his arms, and turned to leave. Only as he passed the older man, did he give his answer.
"He'll be drawn to her, as she will to him. Afterall, he's the one who killed her."
Ch. 01 -- Insight
LR
'I will never doubt you, your ability. Your decision. It was your choice; but that's not to say I can't disagree with your conclusion.'
The suns were becoming weary in this late hour of the afternoon; the shadows that they cast over the time-worn sand didn't consume everything in sight, but they did not shrivel and shrink into a grain beneath the foot; thereby making the day in a point of which it was neither evening, nor was it noon. It was a fascinating time though; the bright yellow rays turned into a pulsating, murky orange, so rich in color that the light seemed to reflect off any of the blunt and jagged forms of stabbing bedrock, cliffen heights, and the sand itself. To truly stand back and look at the sight, the unpopulated landscape, the raw beauty created by rock, atmosphere, and suns; it was enough to put one into a numbed state of awe. As if the suns were a mother, the atmosphere reflecting her beauty, and the rocks absorbing her melifluous lullaby; you the child she cradled in her arms and sang to sleep. A sight, a feeling to be treasured, but for some only on a subconcsious level.
The twin suns' lullaby seemed to have drawn in-full over the city of LR, cooing their silent, sweet notes to the buildings and residences within, hushing them, calming them. A momentary bout of peaceful quiet, with only the gentle murr of the folk who patrolled the streets during these fading hours of the day.
'It's too late for me to think I could convince you otherwise; the damage has already been done. I still don't think it's fair. The girls didn't deserve to have been lied to like that. Especially the big one. I had just barely been able to break the news, had been so close to giving in and telling her it was alright. It's not fair that I had to lie to them for you, had to bare the sobs that wracked their bodies, and resist comforting them. Not fair, that I had to do that, knowing that you're still alive. And just walk away.'
A stranger walked among the late patrons, his gaze shielded by the duel lenses, wired together with black; the glass tinted orange. They matched the skyline, and reflected the soft tune there.
'You said to me: "Lie to them, Vash. Tell them I passed, I was hit too deep, I lost too much blood, I had been blown unconcsious and died in that state. Tell them I've been mangled and picked at by a mutant chicken for all I care, damn it. Just don't tell them I'm alive."'
'"Meet me in LR. We have to talk, without them, Vash." You said.'
"Well, ChurchMan, I'm here -- So where the Hell are YOU??" Muttering with a tinge of accusation threatening in his voice, Vash huffed, an exaggerated sigh of irritation exhaled, bowing his golden-spiked head in frustration, those glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose slightly. Chewing with an annoyed air at his bottom lip, he tipped his head up again, his left hand tightening its grasp on the rope that bound his travelling pack; the bulky dark pack itself slung over his red shoulder. Boots stopped him several yarz from the city's center, his half-revealed gaze roaming over the area.
Of course. It was just like Wolfwood, to fake his own death, demand that Vash meet him in some city iles away, to speak of his brother, no less; and to give the Outlaw not a damned clue as to where he was supposed to find him. Typical.
He stood there long enough to have acquired several casual, curious glances from the random passer-by, all of which he smiled brightly to and tipped a hand in salutation.
Finally, closing his eyes and knitting dirty-blond brows in defeat, he sighed heavily, allowing the weight of the pack held over his left shoulder, to put off his balance a bit. He leaned to his left, extending his right arm out to the side; looking as if he were trying to achieve some state of acrobatic euphoria. "God damn you, Priest." He mumbled distractedly under his breath. Great. Now he was going to have to wait. Apparently the travelling priest wasn't quite as up-to-par with his beloved Angelina tin-can-on-wheels as he had originally theorized.
Tilting his head to the side, his glasses perched unbalanced over his nose, the corner of his mouth turned down into a way-ward frown, which contradicted the grin he also seemed to be attempting to sport at the same time. Standing in that awkward yet, apparently, satisfying pose, he eventually finalized his decision and turned on his booted heel, that battling grin-frown turning into a rather lopsided smile, as he began to march back down the street, the way he had come. He had spotted a rather interesting-looking place a while back; it was like some weird hybrid of business, but he had gotten the distinct impression that the building provided everything he needed: Donuts, beer, and beds.
Disclaimer: Trigun and all characters therein are ©Yasuhiro Nightow. All original characters are mine.
Prologue
30 years earlier.
He stood, his back turned to the only man awake in this world that was older than himself, his arms crossed over his chest in a patient manner, his face calm, gaze set firmly ahead, muscles relaxed; waiting. The tank he stood before cast a light that reached even the farthest corners of the room, reflecting off the metal walls, playing over the cool surface of the large computer consoles, putting their feeble glow to shame. This light, stained a translucent blue, illuminated the man's features; it paled his skin, lengthened the shadows that had drawn over his face. It grew shallow in the glacier hue of his eyes, and highlighted his platinum hair. The older doctor behind him shifted slightly, frowning as potential problems with this flooded into his mind. He paused, stepping to the left of the taller man, following his gaze to the tank, and focusing on the being inside it. Metal supports had been installed within the thick glass walls only a week earlier, to support the form of a child who had been held within there, healing for the past 3 days. Her once blond hair had, in that time, turned a dark black, and had grown. Now long and abundant, it fell over her small shoulders and back, reaching to her waist. The skin of her naked form was light, almost pale, and the glow contrasted sharply against her. They would have dressed her before putting her inside, but it wouldn't have made any difference. The blue light that carressed all their forms and the walls so peacefully, was in actuality, energy. Beyond the glass walls, to them, it appeared simply as light, but inside... Inside, it was nothing but pure, concentrated energy; an intense force that would have eaten through the fabric of whatever she wore and left her nude anyway. The energy had only one purpose; to heal, to regenerate, and it wasn't going to work around the artificial material tha was clothing, just for the sake of decency. The doctor had been slightly startled, when the platinum-haired man beside him spoke. His voice broke through the room's peaceful quiet (aside from the monotonous hum of the computers), calm, set, and commanding. In control, in utter control.
"She's ready to join us now, Conrad."
Conrad blinked, looking at the child doubtfully, before turning his gaze to the man beside him. She'd only been in the tank for 3 days, and he personally would rather that she stay for another few. But... the decision was not his own. Without a word, he turned and walked to one of the larger screens, tapping several keys over the huge console, his eyes lifted to stare at the screen. He punched in the number of the tank, accessing it's command center. Typing in the last of his orders, he tapped a larger key to his right, and turned to face the tank, which had begun to process the entered command. The blond hadn't moved from his spot, arms still crossed over his broad chest, gaze still focused on the young girl, as the energy withing the glass began to drain.A small pipe had opened, and it took only seconds before the level of raw energy within the tank had dropped to zero, the room no longer so brightly lit. Conrad flicked a small switch, activating short-energy lights overhead, and turned to enter the next command. The sleek supporters began to retract, lowering the girl's form to the ground, where she lay quite peacefully. Finally, the taller of the two men moved, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he snatched a bundle of clothes that he had brought down earlier, reaching and entering a code that only Conrad and himself knew, into the keypad beside the large tank, triggering a small metal door to hiss open. He retrieved the little girl, nodding to the doctor once he had brought her out and set her on one of the larger tables that were in the room, Conrad, in turn, proceded to shut down the tank, as the tall blond dressed the girl. The outfit, was identical to the one's that he and his brother had worn as children. Conrad didn't know the entirety of his plans with the girl, but he had an idea, a generalized outline of it all. He frowned and turned to another console, this one smaller, pressing large touch-pad and glancing to the large moniter above as the screen flashed several windows, he typing in a password and command for each, until finally he accessed the tank's database. It gave him a list of various subjects it had held, and he waited until it showed him what he was looking for.
M:ARK//T164... STATUS: EXP188
ID TAG: 005963728
He stared at the readout for another moment, before a small smile twitched at his lips, and he began to delete the girl's ID TAG that filed her into their database. For several seconds, the cursor blinked in the blank space, and his smile grew fond as he changed her status, and entered her name.
M:ARK//T164
STATUS: SUBJ
NAME: MILLIONS, JACLYN
Tapping the large pad again, the window that had dominated the screen flashed.
SUBJECT REVISED.
The screen went blank, and he turned back to the other two. He still couldn't help but wonder...
"How do you know that he'll find her?"
Knives simply smiled, satisfied, down at the girl, pushing dark bangs from the child's face. He gathered her sleeping form into his arms, and turned to leave. Only as he passed the older man, did he give his answer.
"He'll be drawn to her, as she will to him. Afterall, he's the one who killed her."
Ch. 01 -- Insight
LR
'I will never doubt you, your ability. Your decision. It was your choice; but that's not to say I can't disagree with your conclusion.'
The suns were becoming weary in this late hour of the afternoon; the shadows that they cast over the time-worn sand didn't consume everything in sight, but they did not shrivel and shrink into a grain beneath the foot; thereby making the day in a point of which it was neither evening, nor was it noon. It was a fascinating time though; the bright yellow rays turned into a pulsating, murky orange, so rich in color that the light seemed to reflect off any of the blunt and jagged forms of stabbing bedrock, cliffen heights, and the sand itself. To truly stand back and look at the sight, the unpopulated landscape, the raw beauty created by rock, atmosphere, and suns; it was enough to put one into a numbed state of awe. As if the suns were a mother, the atmosphere reflecting her beauty, and the rocks absorbing her melifluous lullaby; you the child she cradled in her arms and sang to sleep. A sight, a feeling to be treasured, but for some only on a subconcsious level.
The twin suns' lullaby seemed to have drawn in-full over the city of LR, cooing their silent, sweet notes to the buildings and residences within, hushing them, calming them. A momentary bout of peaceful quiet, with only the gentle murr of the folk who patrolled the streets during these fading hours of the day.
'It's too late for me to think I could convince you otherwise; the damage has already been done. I still don't think it's fair. The girls didn't deserve to have been lied to like that. Especially the big one. I had just barely been able to break the news, had been so close to giving in and telling her it was alright. It's not fair that I had to lie to them for you, had to bare the sobs that wracked their bodies, and resist comforting them. Not fair, that I had to do that, knowing that you're still alive. And just walk away.'
A stranger walked among the late patrons, his gaze shielded by the duel lenses, wired together with black; the glass tinted orange. They matched the skyline, and reflected the soft tune there.
'You said to me: "Lie to them, Vash. Tell them I passed, I was hit too deep, I lost too much blood, I had been blown unconcsious and died in that state. Tell them I've been mangled and picked at by a mutant chicken for all I care, damn it. Just don't tell them I'm alive."'
'"Meet me in LR. We have to talk, without them, Vash." You said.'
"Well, ChurchMan, I'm here -- So where the Hell are YOU??" Muttering with a tinge of accusation threatening in his voice, Vash huffed, an exaggerated sigh of irritation exhaled, bowing his golden-spiked head in frustration, those glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose slightly. Chewing with an annoyed air at his bottom lip, he tipped his head up again, his left hand tightening its grasp on the rope that bound his travelling pack; the bulky dark pack itself slung over his red shoulder. Boots stopped him several yarz from the city's center, his half-revealed gaze roaming over the area.
Of course. It was just like Wolfwood, to fake his own death, demand that Vash meet him in some city iles away, to speak of his brother, no less; and to give the Outlaw not a damned clue as to where he was supposed to find him. Typical.
He stood there long enough to have acquired several casual, curious glances from the random passer-by, all of which he smiled brightly to and tipped a hand in salutation.
Finally, closing his eyes and knitting dirty-blond brows in defeat, he sighed heavily, allowing the weight of the pack held over his left shoulder, to put off his balance a bit. He leaned to his left, extending his right arm out to the side; looking as if he were trying to achieve some state of acrobatic euphoria. "God damn you, Priest." He mumbled distractedly under his breath. Great. Now he was going to have to wait. Apparently the travelling priest wasn't quite as up-to-par with his beloved Angelina tin-can-on-wheels as he had originally theorized.
Tilting his head to the side, his glasses perched unbalanced over his nose, the corner of his mouth turned down into a way-ward frown, which contradicted the grin he also seemed to be attempting to sport at the same time. Standing in that awkward yet, apparently, satisfying pose, he eventually finalized his decision and turned on his booted heel, that battling grin-frown turning into a rather lopsided smile, as he began to march back down the street, the way he had come. He had spotted a rather interesting-looking place a while back; it was like some weird hybrid of business, but he had gotten the distinct impression that the building provided everything he needed: Donuts, beer, and beds.