Early morning, some time around eight or so. Annette was frying up some food over the fire while Vash and Nick seemed to be practicing with their firearms about ten feet away. The last week had been quite interesting, what with the few revelations about Vash she'd discovered, and Nicholas joining their little band. She'd sent a report back to Verandil stating that this was indeed the real Vash, and that she was continuing her investigations into his past. He'd been grateful for her leaving out the point that he wasn't the original Vash the Stampede.
A gunshot went off, and then a scream. That sounded like Nick. "Damnit, watch it, kid! You almost shot me doing that!"
"I'm sorry!"
What now? "Don't tell me you two are trying to kill each other already?" she asked while turning. Vash was now kneeling down to pick up one of his guns while Nick was breathing heavily and clutching the side of his arm. Must have been a very near miss. "What the hell happened now?"
A accusing finger pointed to Vash. "That maniac just about shot my arm off!" Nick roared. "He starts twirling that gun of his, then drops it!"
"Hey, I said I'm sorry!" The boy weakly grinned and slipped the black automatic into its holster. "I still can't get spinning them like that right. When I'm pistol-whipping, that's a different story." Safeties on this time as he drew out both guns, tossed them in the air, and held them by the barrels, finger in the trigger rings. He quickly began whipping the two guns about as if attacking with them, holding them parallel to the ground instead of vertically.
Nick was still watching him cautiously, even with the safety switches on. "Just don't you dare try showing off like that again," he intoned while now picking up his own autos and slipping them back into the arms of the Cross Punisher. "How could you do that kind of fighting style and not be able to do a simple twirl, though?"
"It's always been like that," Vash replied. He was still practicing that rather odd form of fighting, guns held like clubs while he lashed out and spun them about. "Pops never liked how I could do this, yet I can't spin them like he does." He smiled and slipped the weapons back into their holsters again. "Guess it kind'a evens out."
Leave it to that kid to try some semblance of modesty. Really, Vash wasn't that bad a person once you got to know him, and what few bits about his predecessor he'd divulged indicated that the original Humanoid Typhoon wasn't much different. Apparently, however, the first Vash was a hopeless womanizer, chasing after almost any pretty face with a pair of legs and a set of breasts. It seemed that such was one of the traits this boy had not picked up in stride, instead being a sweet talking little hellion. He had a sugary tongue, that was for sure, and his attentions seemed firmly planted on her instead of every girl who walked by.
That didn't help those odd fantasies she'd been having at all. What the hell was in that coffee she'd chugged down back in Remnal? She'd been having the weirdest dreams about Vash ever since, and that one when they'd stopped in Greenriver had been...well, she wasn't so sure she'd wanted to wake up from that one. Thank god neither of the guys had been around, because she'd found her own hand down in her pants. Not something you can explain away easily, not after you woke up panting and covered in sweat. Dear god, did she not want to explain that one.
What was that smell? Was kind'a like...burning eggs. "Shit!" she hissed, now remembering that she was the one cooking breakfast. She quickly pulled the pan away from the fire and scooped the eggs onto a large plate before breathing with relief. A bit crispy, but hopefully she'd save the food. "Uh, breakfast is-" And now she was left blinking as Vash ran over with a dust cloud trailing behind him, those same eggs gone in an instant from the plate. Damn, he was fast. "Hey! That was supposed to be for everyone, you hog!"
"Whoops." He lazily smiled and scratched the back of his head. "Sorry, but you know how hungry I get. I'll get you guys something to eat in the next town."
That's all they needed; Vash blowing his money on them again. Come to think of it, where was he getting all this cash? Certainly, he wasn't doing odd jobs, since how does one get a job when you're moving to the next town within a day or less, and your name is "Vash the Stampede, aka, the Humanoid Typhoon"? And he wasn't knocking over any banks, that was for sure. How did he always have this money on him?
That would be something to inquire about later. Right now, though, they needed to get to the nearby town and get some real food, not to mention a nice shower. Yes, a shower sounded really good right now, after three days of tromping through the desert. That and a real bed to sleep in. That would probably work wonders after all the desert camping they'd done.
His hand was still wrapped in bandages as he bowed before the man who sat on a raised dais. "We definitely have confirmed his location," the man named Tremil stated, trying to ignore the pain in his hand. That boy was one insane marksman, having shot the voodoo doll right from his hand like that. It was only natural considering his teacher, and his traits. "He's on his way toward Old July from our calculations." A pause. No doubt, his master knew about the interference. Better to find out what his orders were in regards to those interlopers. "What shall we do about Legato and his Renegade Guns should they be encountered?"
The man, rising to stand almost six and a half feet tall, had nearly white pale blonde hair that was short cropped, icy blue eyes, and a beauty mark under his right eye. Dressed in a black and red body suit which was marked by numerous pieces of machinery, he clenched his left fist and stepped down from the dais. "Legato wishes to regain my favor," he stated while walking past Tremil. The man was still kneeling; good. He gestured for Tremil to rise and walk with him. The human did as ordered, then took his place about a step behind his master. He knew his place in the world well, that was assured. "Vash should be disgusted with what the humans did, using his blood and what remained of our sister." He paused at a large tube chamber, noting the creature that was growing inside of it. His creation, designed and bred to be a living weapon.
Those eyes flashed back to Tremil, who quickly lowered his gaze so as not to meet that of his master. "I'm surprised that this child has the gall to wander about using his name. Surly, Vash told him about me, considering I want the boy dead." A pause again as he continued down the corridor. Another large chamber, this one more resembling a medical lab than a growth area. "How goes work on the virus?"
Tremil hesitated for a moment before deciding to answer. "We have as of yet not had much success in the life time of the virus, though it is efficient enough in the original tests." He glanced over to the rows of computers that furiously calculated formulas and engineered the deadly bio-weapon that they were creating. "There seems to be an odd reaction to the DNA of Arc Angels, however," he added as they came to one set of monitors. He tapped on the keyboard to bring up the needed data. "So far, every time we apply the virus to Hybrid DNA, it seems to mutate the gene sequences to make them almost on par with a Freeborn."
His master did not look happy at that. Considering the original purpose of this virus, he would not be happy at all with the setbacks in development. "It reacts with humans as intended, however," Tremil quickly added, once more tapping the keyboard to bring up another set of data. "The mutation side-effects seemed to happen only to those with Hybrid DNA, and there's only one person on this entire planet who is an Arc Angel."
Those cold eyes narrowed, but he nodded. "Waterman," he whispered while examining the data. His work would soon be done, and the abomination that was this imposter Humanoid Typhoon would soon be dealt with. Honestly, he was surprised that Legato's own attempts had failed so badly. But, Legato was merely a human, inferior to him and those beings he created to replace the old Gung-Ho Guns. Tremil, to be sure, was also human, but he served well his purpose more so than Legato. And unlike Legato, Tremil was not the leader of the new Gung-Ho Guns. That would be one of his creations; his children.
A hand pressed against one of the monitors. "Poor Tessla," he whispered while his eyes frosted over. He'd lost the ability to shed tears, instead now creating a layer of thin ice over his eyes. "This bastard child they bred from the blood of your womb will be returned to the scum he came from, and then Vash will see that I am right." A smile now, and Millions Knives actually began to laugh. "And then, this world will become a haven for all our kind."
God, that shower felt good. Having a spare set of clean clothes would have been even better, but, since he didn't have a spare shirt, Nick settled for just his pants and sent the rest of his clothing to the wash room of the inn. He glanced at his back, noting those large scars that ran across like a large vicious creature had clawed him. Eternal reminder of that encounter with the Gung-Ho Guns.
"Nick, you done with the shower?"
That would be Vash. Coat off but still dressed in that odd dark blue body suit and those boots. Did he ever take that thing off? "It's all yours," he intoned, heading off to see if his clothes were done yet. Odd, it almost looked like Vash's eyes were glowing for a moment there. Come to think of it, he'd noticed it last time he'd seen the boy without his sunglasses on, but he'd assumed it was just a trick of the light. And since he seemed to wear those things even at night...
Definitely odd now that he thought about it. The shower was going again, meaning Vash was in there. He'd left his sunglasses out here in the room, though. Maybe he'd get a chance to see them and what they could do. Damn, those lenses were like golden mirrors; you couldn't see into them, but put the sunglasses on, and it was like having the perfect set of light filters. No wonder the kid wore these things. But how did he work them? Nick knew that Vash had to have several extras built into these things.
It could wait until later, he supposed. He was hungry, and Annette was probably finishing up her own shower before heading down to the diner for lunch. Maybe he'd join her for something to eat. Hm, a nice salad and a burger sounded good right about now.
Moments after Nick left the room, Vash walked out of the bathroom, still dressed in his body suit. "Curious I'm sure you are," he muttered before grabbing his sunglasses and heading back into the shower. Now peeling off the bodysuit, Vash slipped the sunglasses on and tapped a switch in the frames. After a moment, a tiny mic-piece flipped down into place. "Hey, pops," he said as he heard a squelch of static over the tiny speaker. "I know you don't take that comlink earring off, so just answer the phone."
"You need to work on your manners." Yep, that was the Old Man alright. Still a bit of a drama queen even after all these years. "I heard about what happened to Frank. Believe me, I know you wish you could change what happened, Aaron."
A grunt as he hopped in the shower. Good thing all the electronics in his sunglasses were waterproofed. "The person with that name died fifteen years ago, pops. I'm Vash the Stampede now, just like you said." A smirk, even though he knew his mentor couldn't see it. "Hell, they even upped the bounty because I showed up in Felnarl. I'm sure you heard all about that nightmare." He certainly remembered it. Three groups of bounty hunters had gone after him, itching for that sixty billion, only to tear the town up. Sadly, he got blamed for the whole thing, and the bounty was thus after at a hundred billion. Amazing what happens when Vash the Stampede vanished for two decades.
There was another squelch as he started scrubbing with the soap. "Don't think that it was over with there. You know that the Gung-Ho Guns are going to be trying to hunt you down and use you to find me." A pause as static resumed. Vash frowned. He knew well that his proverbial father had every right to be worried about that point. "We both know why Knives tried to kill you fifteen years ago."
He grunted. Vash had long known those reasons. A bit of shampoo, wash the hair... "I'm a freak of nature, pops. Neither human nor Plant Angel, and Knives wants me dead because I'm everything he hates." Humans becoming like Plants, a being Knives was trying at all costs to prevent from existing. Like hell he was going to pull it off. "But I'm a freak who wants to live."
There was a consenting sound from the speaker while he rinsed his hair out after a minute. "So, how much had you told them about us?" he asked. A fair question, and thankfully, it would have a short answer.
"Nick and Annie only know that I'm not the original," Vash explained while now shutting off the shower, stepping out, and drying off. Damn, nineteen, and he still had the body of a fifteen-year-old boy. One would expect him to be rippling after everything he'd been through, but all the muscle he had barely showed itself. At most, he was toned well, with a baby face and those bangs that made him look like a child. Never could lose that look, and he couldn't scar. It took months sometimes, but his body always healed everything perfectly. Never a scar or anything left behind...except those three on his face, and that was only because of what had given them to him.
Pulling the bodysuit back on, Vash ran a hand through his hair and found it went right back into that distinctive style. He couldn't help but look like a child, despite everything he did to change that. "I'm probably gonn'a need another boost in that trust fund."
A laugh now over the speaker. "Been finding yourself a little too generous around that girl?" came the inquiry. Vash found himself wishing he hadn't informed his predecessor about that point. "I'll give you this, you're a smooth one, even if it is expensive. I'll have the money in your dummy account by tonight." There was a pause again. "So, you think you might have found someone?"
Vash gave a snort while pulling on his coat. "As if," he stated, hands fastening the buttons of the flap. He picked up his guns, slipped them into the side holsters, then headed for the door of the room. "You couldn't even tell Meryl Stryfe how you felt about her, you expect me to be making the moves on a girl like Annie?"
"Well, from everything you've told me about her, she's the perfect girl for you." Now there was a laugh from the speaker. Vash wasn't sure if he should find it funny or not. "Feisty, knows how to take care of herself, and has a taste for drinking buddies. Don't let her get away."
Again, he snorted, now heading down the hallway to the staircase. It was bad enough he couldn't help but flirt with the woman, he didn't need the Old Man encouraging him. "Like you're one to talk," he retorted. That wince on the other end of the line made him smile. Score one for the young one. "I've gott'a go, I'll call you later when I have a chance." Tap. God, sometimes he wondered why he hadn't ended up a hopeless womanizer like his mentor.
Down the stairs and into the lobby, his coat furling about as he walked toward the inn's diner. He got a chill then stepped aside just before someone ended up running into him. "Sorry about that," he said as the woman blinked at him, almost as if she recognized him. She was clutching that suitcase rather tightly as well. Come to think of it, her face did spark a memory. "Have we-"
"I'm sure not," she stated while straightening the little pillbox style hat on her head. "If you'll excuse me."
Rude woman. While she walked away, Vash shook his head. Why had he gotten that chill though? She'd been holding to that suitcase a little oddly, and there was something about her that sparked a memory, but he couldn't quite recall it now.
Better to find his companions and get some lunch. Man, he was hungry already. He had enough money to last him today, and thankfully, his new supply of funds should be in his accounts by the night. Hm...they were about a day by sand steamer to Florentine. He'd wanted to treat Annette to a fancy dinner sometime. Granted, that meant following the advise of the Old Man, but at least he wasn't letting any libido do the thinking there. Okay, maybe a bit, but he didn't indend to do anything more than enjoy a nice evening with her.
Vash quickly slid into a seat while his two companions were waiting for their meals. "So, what do you guys have planned?"
Sip coffee. God, this stuff tasted bad. It was more like colored water than real coffee. "Keeping an eye on you," Annette replied bitterly. "What else am I going to do?" Where were those pancakes? She wanted to eat now. "Which means I should be asking you what your next destination is."
How to make this seem as natural as possible. "I'm thinking Florentine City," Vash replied while looking at the menu, then setting it down after a moment. "It's only a day or so by steamer, plus it'll give me a chance to make plans for going after the Gung-Ho Guns."
She went stiff as her food finally arrived. For a minute or so, Annette couldn't move until Nick finally tapped her shoulder. "Huh, what?"
"Food's here," he said not getting to work on eating his own meal. "There something about Florentine you're worried about?"
Had Vash really said he was going to Florentine? Her hometown, where the Verandil main office was? He might actually be...no way, he couldn't know about that restaurant, and there was no way he was thinking about treating her to that kind of meal. Sweet as he was, there was no way anyone raised by the original Vash the Stampede could be romantic. But so far, he'd defied that logic completely. Was it possible, in being raised by Vash, this boy had become someone else, something different from the Humanoid Typhoon?
"You work out of there," Vash intoned while making his order. "Don't you?" Once again, a huge meal, and on top of that, about a dozen donuts on the list. What was with this guy and donuts? It almost seemed like catnip to him. "You might know some good places to eat then."
Did he just...oh god, he really was planning something! No, no, this was nuts! It was like that daydream coming true, but she didn't know what to do about it! "Uh, yeah," Annette sputtered finally while smothering her pancakes in maple syrup. "I know a few." Calm down, calm down! Her heart felt like it was running at several hundred iles per hour! Shove down pancakes, trying to distract self.
And here came the donuts. "Ooh, custard!" he exclaimed before diving in. How could he sink one of those down in a single bite? "You guys want one?" he asked while holding up the plate. Nick shook his head politely while Annette tried to not pay attention to him. Vash shrugged and set the plate back on the table. "I heard there's a really nice one down there, fancy and everything, gets used a lot for graduation parties. The...I can't remember the name of it, something French I think. The Orlan...Orle-"
"The Orleans Rouge," Annette said, almost choking on her pancakes as she said it. Oh god, he did know about that place. But there was no way he could have known that was her favorite restaurant, it had to be a lucky guess. Wait, was he reading her mind! It almost seemed like it, but how could he!
His face gave a hurt expression. "Actually, I can," he said just before gulping down another donut. "Read thoughts that is. Not very well, though. I get bits and pieces, images and maybe sounds." Hm, she was quite shocked by that revelation. Nick was showing surprise as well. They hadn't figured this out before? "My kind are telepathic to an extent, nowhere as good as a Plant Angel." He growled and rubbed his left ear. "I can still hear them, though. It's like a bunch of kids sometimes, and a bunch of angry hateful maniacs who want you dead at others." All because of what I am.
Annette stared at him, a pancake in her mouth, then finally finished munching it down while Nick mixed a bit of egg yoke into his hash-browns and scooped the mixture up. "You lead a messed up life" the man stated after gulping the fried potatoes. "And you said 'my kind'. Care to expand on that?"
Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned that point. Hm, how to really explain it. "I suppose you could say," Vash started, paused while his own food was now arriving. Seconds later, he dove into the salad and sucked it down cleanly. Then he remembered he'd been about to explain things. "You could say that I'm not exactly human in the genetic definition of the term. I share a lot in common with Plant Angels, such as incredible reflexes, speed, healing factors, and intelligence. However, unlike a Plant Angel..."
He paused to start on his burger. After a moment, munching down some fries, Vash continued. "I don't generate a lot of energy in comparison. In fact, I actually suck in energy, like a siphon. That's why I eat so much."
"To generate that energy," Nick noted while munching down more of his hash-browns. Yes, that made sense, even with his limited knowledge in science. "I'm guessing you also take energy from solar power as well."
A nod while shoving a couple of donuts down. "Ecsactly," he mumbled through his full mouth. Vash gulped down and smiled. "I'm like a power collector, storing energy from any source." Down went the last of his burger, now starting on the ribs. Dear god, this boy could eat. "So I always have to keep a good deal of money on me. I'm sure you've wondered where I get it." A couple of nods. Annette was looking a bit worried. "Well, I can assure you it's entirely legal." Vash grinned while cleaning off the rib bones. "My Old Man has a huge amount banked up from all the years he spent going around before the bounty went on his head. He sends me about five hundred every couple weeks or so, which is enough for my expenses."
"Except not since we started traveling together," Annette chided while finishing her pancakes. From Vash's expression, he couldn't argue that point. Score one for her. "All this buying me food and covering my costs. I appreciate the chivalry, but you have been going overboard."
That actually hurt a bit. Vash was wincing as he rubbing the back of his neck, then decided on finishing his food before even thinking of a way to reply to that one. No doubt, she'd picked up on his plan, so no use trying to make a secret of it. However, he could still try and surprise her a bit. Hm...first time trying for a romance. Might as well, it would help take his mind off his current problems.
Best make the reservations for the sand steamer after lunch. Leave tomorrow after getting breakfast, and they'd be in Florentine the next day. After that, other than treating Annie to one fancy dinner, he didn't have else much in mind, other than avoid being recognized and having someone try to get that damn bounty on his head. That and try to avoid anyone from the Gung-Ho Guns while working to track them down at the same time. Did his plans ever sound screwed up at times, even to him.
