Here's the second chapter: read and enjoy. ((I command you! Muahaha!))
I don't know how you like this, but I would like to know, so, if you read and review, I'll give you cookies! And your pick of one Trigun character...((Points to wall, where entire cast hangs from chains)) Ta-da!
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I've got nothing, to gain, to lose
All the world I see before me
Passing by...
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Morgaine Blackrain had been twelve years old when she had first met Knives, standing on the roof of her house and playing out with her fiddle and bow, having been an exceptional fiddler even that early. He had come, with the blue-haired amber-eyed Legato Bluesummers at his side, and had taken the child with him after promises of being able to eliminate the world of people like her brother, the one she had ran away from to pursue her dream of fame with her music. She had found out later that, by eliminating those people, he meant to eliminate the whole human race.
"Kill the spiders to save the butterflies."
Through painful training and "lessons" from Knives the once fiery, determined girl turned into a loyal, obedient, individuality-less woman, only coming back to her old personality trait of a quick temper and a hot-head when she was out on missions for her new Master. A few days earlier, Knives had sent out his most loyal servant, Legato, to take care of Vash the Stampede. Morgaine found out later that by "taking care of" the Master's twin brother, Legato was killed by Vash, to cause eternal suffering for the weak, pathetic Humanoid Typhoon. Suicide, basically, but at the orders of Master. Morgaine would never consciously admit it, but she had been half in love with Legato. He had helped her when Master's torture had been too much to bear, had been the one who stitched up her wounds and cleaned away the blood, had made her feel at least a little bit more alive.
Now she was being sent out after Vash, to try and eliminate him. She was certain she was going to die, either at the hands of the Stampede or, after failing, dying at the hands of a Gung-Ho Gun. But she didn't care. Death was a freedom Master would never grant her at the end of her torture sessions. She used to think that if she was a bit more insubordinate, a bit more fiery to the Plant, that he would kill her, but all it caused her was more and more pain. Eventually she had come to believe that her only escape from life would be her mortality. But now, going after the Typhoon, she was almost happy to know that she would be able to die, at last.
The tall twenty-year-old, raven-black-haired, ivory-skinned, onyx-eyed woman exited the compound where her Master lived, and knew where she was going, a bag in her hand. Master had given her all the information she needed to seek out his brother, and she knew he would be stopping at the town of Warren, which wasn't too far away.
Morgaine Blackrain, also known as Morgaine the Fiddler, sped up her pace, slinging her bag over her shoulder.
The faster she got to Vash, the faster she got to Death.
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---POV switch---
The bartender glanced up at the three sitting in the back of the room, the three that had been there for some time, but he simply shrugged and continued polishing his glass.
"How long are we planning on staying here?" Meryl Strife, the smallest of the three, asked.
"For a while, and then we'll move on," Vash, also known as the Humanoid Typhoon Vash the Stampede, answered.
"No, I mean, how long here, in this bar?" she said.
"Oh, uh, we can go now, if you want," he answered. "Do you want to, Milly?"
The third person in the party, the big girl Milly Thompson, nodded sleepily. "Yes, let's get back to our apartment." They were in Warren, a small town with a comfortable, all-are-welcomed atmosphere. Vash's mind was clearly elsewhere, but both girls could guess where; he had been forced to commit the ultimate sin against his personal beliefs, and that was to take another person's life. That person had been a servant of his brother, evil in most considerations, but he had still been a living, breathing, thinking creature, and Vash could still hear his words echoing in his mind, still see that handsome face with one amber-golden eye visible, the other hidden under a wash of silky blue hair. He hurt deeply inside, but for the girls, he pretended to be cheerful.
"Maybe we can pick up donuts on the way back," he said with a smile. Milly laughed, but Meryl watched the blond-haired, aqua-eyed man carefully, sensing a hesitation within him, a feigning of cheer. She smiled blankly when he caught her gaze and glanced her way, and he stared at her a moment, then looked away.
When they reached their apartment, Vash headed nearly immediately to the bed, slipping off his boots and coat, and flopping down on the mattress, hearing the springs creaking under his bodyweight. He stared at the ceiling, then glanced towards the door, making sure it was closed, then he closed his eyes, breathing a heavy, trembling sigh. The pain within him, his chest, his entire body, his mind, his spirit, it was all too much. There had to have been another way, something I didn't see! He fought with himself mentally, until his weariness finally allowed him to drift to sleep.
Meryl peeked around the doorframe of the room, checking to make sure Vash was asleep, then stood there, staring at his sleeping form. He could be such a foolish goofball at times, seemingly the stupidest man on Gunsmoke, so gullible it was a surprise he was still living. Then he could be somewhat harsh and cruel, though not to any great extent. And lastly, he was bitter, mournful, in such a sorrowful grief that she could tell it hurt him to fake those smiles, act like a dork, though inwardly ashamed and angry at some action of the past. The woman sighed at the indiscernable man, then turned for her own bed.
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You like, my friends? Well, tell me!
((Cookiesand Trigun charries are awaiting you!))
-Wolf