Ah, such sweet reviewers! Sadly, the way I've got the plot planned, things will be taking
some much more serious turns from the lighthearted beginnings.
Disclaimer: Trigun not mine.
Disclaimer's disclaimer: Neither is grammar.
Rise of the Silver Stars
Chapter 1: Borrowed Things
Breakfast was over and done with. Well, from the time, you'd probably have called it lunch, but according to his own personal clock, it was breakfast by merit of it having been the first meal of the day. With the rumblings quieted from both within and without- assuming he hadn't done anything else to upset the raven-haired one -he headed back in to check on his brother.
Ah, his brother. The psycho nutcase as Meryl would say to him, who had been rendered temporally harmless by five bullets and a lot of lost blood. Unlike a human, what with all their person-to-person differences, the two of them would recover on a precise timetable, as predictable as the sunrise. He had one month, two days, and five hours until Knives woke up after this damage, give or take a few minutes. He had that long to think up a good argument- no, an ironclad argument -to convince Knives that humanity was worthwhile in the grand scheme of things. If he couldn't, he didn't know what he'd do next. Would he have to face him in another duel, this time for the kill? Would he have to go so far to save the humans? Could he actually do it with so many unknowns?
"Oh, I am so in trouble!"
"Mr. Vash?" came an inquisitive question from the base of the stairs.
"Nothing, nothing, just remembered something that will probably earn me another lump on the head."
No sooner had he said it than the gentle click clacking sound drifting out of the girls' room stopped, to be replaced by the heavy thudding sound of boots headed his way, probably to dispense another round of blunt force trauma. All of a sudden the town's bar seemed like the perfect destination, though before he could turn and sneak out she had him in view, eyes flashing, shoulders set, and mouth turned down in an ever so cute frown.
"What did you do this time?"
He rapidly motioned with his eyes towards the room with the closed door. Her features softened instantly. They had set a policy of no talking about Knives around Milly for her sake, especially considering how he had been involved in the greatest trauma of her life. Despite their efforts, she was picking up the vibes anyway. Knives radiated malice, and their own reactions whenever she asked about him were only reinforcing her doubts. He'd have to explain it to her sometime, a task he wasn't looking foreward to at all. The shadow that was just starting to creep out of the girl's room seemed to make a physical point on all the troubles he had to deal with, and the consequences therein.
Meryl followed his new gaze to the spot just behind her, and sighed as she reentered the room to pick up her report work. He walked past to the other bedroom that he shared with his brother, pausing to look in after Meryl. The click-clacks resumed as she started typing, while Wolfwood's cross maintained its vigil as it stood silently before the window, the sunlight glinting off it. He kept going, and made it to the boys' room.
There was the source of all his troubles, looking about as dangerous as a dishrag. Well, if you ignored his face. His face was chiseled into a frown, and it wasn't a cute one like Meryl's. Oh no, this frown held nothing but bitterness at nearly all that existed, making him appear to practically extrude hatred all over the room. When those eyes above that frown finally do open, that hatred would be focused with laser-like intensity, enough to sear whatever they lit upon.
He practically collapsed into the chair set up by the bed. Knives on one hand, Milly on the other. He had his work cut out for him. He needed some way to organize his thoughts, so he decided to look at the ceiling in the hope that the answers had been miraculously carved upon it. Sadly, all that was up there was a new crack in the plaster. He stared at it anyway, until he finally had to blink. More of the click-clacks drifted in from the doorway, and he kept his eyes closed, just enjoying the loose rhythm they made. A little voice spoke up in the back of his head, putting foreward an idea. He opened his eyes and pondered it and the crack. "Well, at least it's an idea. Hopefully it'll lead to more."
He got up and took the few steps to the girls' room, knocking on the open door with the back of his hand. Meryl's head looked up from her report and she sighed at his visage. "What do you want now?"
He put on his best smile. "Well, I was wondering if I could borrow your typewriter for a while. I may need it for a few days."
"I suppose you can... but you better not break it, or you'll be getting me a new one." There was just enough edge in her voice to inform him that if he did break it, he would be getting her a new one no matter how far he might try and run.
"Thanks Meryl." He reached for it, only to have his hand slammed down by hers just inches short of his goal.
"After I'm done, that is." He grinned at her with his 'Oh, perish the thought!' grin, and she let him see one of her rare smiles.
Milly choose that moment to walk in. "Oh, I'm not interrupting anything am I?"
Their heads turned as one to the door and its smiling occupant, then they noticed that they had come into physical contact. They both did a sharp intake of breath, yanking their hands apart as if the other had just become poisonous while cheeks began to take on red hues. Milly just kept that simple smile of hers going. "I wanted to tell you I'll be getting started on dinner, now you two behave until then."
They both turned redder. He stumbled out after the departing Milly, stammering out "It's not what you think!"
"Whatever you say, Mr. Vash," she replied as she strode down the stairs. "Now you be good to her!"
He just put his hand behind his head and laughed while he rubbed his hair sheepishly. Meryl had stuck her head through the doorway, and when he turned to her she just let her head drop into her hand and sighed. "Even after all the time we've been traveling together, she still gets these crazy ideas."
"Yeah, but it could be worse. She could be right."
¤ ¤ ¤
Outside, a lone soul out braving the heat heard a loud "Ow! Wha'did I do?" emerge from where the Humanoid Typhoon was staying. "Man, for a notorious outlaw, he sure does get whupped by that woman of his." He shook his head at the thought, then hurried on lest his own woman show him why that despite all the outlaw had done, it was still nothing compared to what a woman scorned could do.
Well, looks like Vash is up to some new tricks these days. Are we about to witness the founding of the Gunsmoke branch of FF.net? Can he come up with a good reason for Knives not to go spider-squashing? Will Monica tell Joey that she really loves Phil? Tune in next time!
Disclaimer: Trigun not mine.
Disclaimer's disclaimer: Neither is grammar.
Rise of the Silver Stars
Chapter 1: Borrowed Things
Breakfast was over and done with. Well, from the time, you'd probably have called it lunch, but according to his own personal clock, it was breakfast by merit of it having been the first meal of the day. With the rumblings quieted from both within and without- assuming he hadn't done anything else to upset the raven-haired one -he headed back in to check on his brother.
Ah, his brother. The psycho nutcase as Meryl would say to him, who had been rendered temporally harmless by five bullets and a lot of lost blood. Unlike a human, what with all their person-to-person differences, the two of them would recover on a precise timetable, as predictable as the sunrise. He had one month, two days, and five hours until Knives woke up after this damage, give or take a few minutes. He had that long to think up a good argument- no, an ironclad argument -to convince Knives that humanity was worthwhile in the grand scheme of things. If he couldn't, he didn't know what he'd do next. Would he have to face him in another duel, this time for the kill? Would he have to go so far to save the humans? Could he actually do it with so many unknowns?
"Oh, I am so in trouble!"
"Mr. Vash?" came an inquisitive question from the base of the stairs.
"Nothing, nothing, just remembered something that will probably earn me another lump on the head."
No sooner had he said it than the gentle click clacking sound drifting out of the girls' room stopped, to be replaced by the heavy thudding sound of boots headed his way, probably to dispense another round of blunt force trauma. All of a sudden the town's bar seemed like the perfect destination, though before he could turn and sneak out she had him in view, eyes flashing, shoulders set, and mouth turned down in an ever so cute frown.
"What did you do this time?"
He rapidly motioned with his eyes towards the room with the closed door. Her features softened instantly. They had set a policy of no talking about Knives around Milly for her sake, especially considering how he had been involved in the greatest trauma of her life. Despite their efforts, she was picking up the vibes anyway. Knives radiated malice, and their own reactions whenever she asked about him were only reinforcing her doubts. He'd have to explain it to her sometime, a task he wasn't looking foreward to at all. The shadow that was just starting to creep out of the girl's room seemed to make a physical point on all the troubles he had to deal with, and the consequences therein.
Meryl followed his new gaze to the spot just behind her, and sighed as she reentered the room to pick up her report work. He walked past to the other bedroom that he shared with his brother, pausing to look in after Meryl. The click-clacks resumed as she started typing, while Wolfwood's cross maintained its vigil as it stood silently before the window, the sunlight glinting off it. He kept going, and made it to the boys' room.
There was the source of all his troubles, looking about as dangerous as a dishrag. Well, if you ignored his face. His face was chiseled into a frown, and it wasn't a cute one like Meryl's. Oh no, this frown held nothing but bitterness at nearly all that existed, making him appear to practically extrude hatred all over the room. When those eyes above that frown finally do open, that hatred would be focused with laser-like intensity, enough to sear whatever they lit upon.
He practically collapsed into the chair set up by the bed. Knives on one hand, Milly on the other. He had his work cut out for him. He needed some way to organize his thoughts, so he decided to look at the ceiling in the hope that the answers had been miraculously carved upon it. Sadly, all that was up there was a new crack in the plaster. He stared at it anyway, until he finally had to blink. More of the click-clacks drifted in from the doorway, and he kept his eyes closed, just enjoying the loose rhythm they made. A little voice spoke up in the back of his head, putting foreward an idea. He opened his eyes and pondered it and the crack. "Well, at least it's an idea. Hopefully it'll lead to more."
He got up and took the few steps to the girls' room, knocking on the open door with the back of his hand. Meryl's head looked up from her report and she sighed at his visage. "What do you want now?"
He put on his best smile. "Well, I was wondering if I could borrow your typewriter for a while. I may need it for a few days."
"I suppose you can... but you better not break it, or you'll be getting me a new one." There was just enough edge in her voice to inform him that if he did break it, he would be getting her a new one no matter how far he might try and run.
"Thanks Meryl." He reached for it, only to have his hand slammed down by hers just inches short of his goal.
"After I'm done, that is." He grinned at her with his 'Oh, perish the thought!' grin, and she let him see one of her rare smiles.
Milly choose that moment to walk in. "Oh, I'm not interrupting anything am I?"
Their heads turned as one to the door and its smiling occupant, then they noticed that they had come into physical contact. They both did a sharp intake of breath, yanking their hands apart as if the other had just become poisonous while cheeks began to take on red hues. Milly just kept that simple smile of hers going. "I wanted to tell you I'll be getting started on dinner, now you two behave until then."
They both turned redder. He stumbled out after the departing Milly, stammering out "It's not what you think!"
"Whatever you say, Mr. Vash," she replied as she strode down the stairs. "Now you be good to her!"
He just put his hand behind his head and laughed while he rubbed his hair sheepishly. Meryl had stuck her head through the doorway, and when he turned to her she just let her head drop into her hand and sighed. "Even after all the time we've been traveling together, she still gets these crazy ideas."
"Yeah, but it could be worse. She could be right."
¤ ¤ ¤
Outside, a lone soul out braving the heat heard a loud "Ow! Wha'did I do?" emerge from where the Humanoid Typhoon was staying. "Man, for a notorious outlaw, he sure does get whupped by that woman of his." He shook his head at the thought, then hurried on lest his own woman show him why that despite all the outlaw had done, it was still nothing compared to what a woman scorned could do.
Well, looks like Vash is up to some new tricks these days. Are we about to witness the founding of the Gunsmoke branch of FF.net? Can he come up with a good reason for Knives not to go spider-squashing? Will Monica tell Joey that she really loves Phil? Tune in next time!