Disclaimer: I obviously don't own Trigun, if I did the series would be quite longer :P
"So, wha'd'ya need?"
"Two crossdraw holsters on a belt for large guns."
The leatherworker looked at the young man across the counter from him. "How big?"
"Well," the man said, shuffling through a small rucksack. He pulled out a pair of large revolvers, one colored silver, the other a dull black. "This big."
"Where'd you get those? I've never seen weapons like these before."
"Well, funny you should ask that," the stranger said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "I found them out in the desert a little while back, lost my way, and literally stumbled across them."
"You were walking through the desert?"
"No, but my Thomas tripped and broke his leg..."
"Oh, I see. The holsters will probably ready in a couple of days."
"Thanks, see you then."
With a wave over his shoulder, he left the small, stifling building. He fingered the twin of the black gun, which he had been carrying in a makeshift holster, lost in thought. When he found them, the guns were buried under a good layer of sand. The black one was empty, but the sliver had one bullet left. He surmised that there had been a gunfight, but who won, and why would the victor leave his gun as well?
He stopped, suddenly realizing that he didn't know where to find a hotel. Casting about, he gave up and asked a passerby. Stepping out of the sun, he ran a flat hand across his hair, pushing the sweat-soaked, brown locks into a slight V in the back of his head.
"Hello dearie," a buxom redhead with graying hair called from behind a small desk. "You need a room?"
"Um, yes, thank you."
"Can I have your name please?"
"Yea, I'm Kessen Palin."
"Cost comes to $$20 a night," the woman said, handing a numbered key to Kessen. "There are a few places down the street to eat. Have a nice night."
"Thank you." he said, walking down the hall, and entering his room.
Dropping his bag and a rifle next to the simple bed, he cleaned himself up before tossing himself onto the bed. Groaning as he landed on the gun at his right hip, unbuckling the belt, he checked the loose, uneven stitching on the enlarged holster. Deeming is still intact, he tossed the belt onto his small bag and drifted off to sleep.
Review please, and if you could, please include the cities that Vash was in (and what he did in them).