G'day folks! The little story is still chugging along, and this time the plot is starting to
finally get moving. Buckle up!
Rise of the Silver Stars
Chapter 3: Removing a Weight
"Ugh, where is it?"
The room was a mess. Crumpled paper covered most of it, including the still-buried Knives. The side of the room that wasn't covered in paper was instead covered with clothing and bedsheets. She had managed to find just about everything Vash had discarded last night, but couldn't find the only piece she had brought in on her. She may have let him see her as she was in both mind and body, but everyone else wasn't going to.
"It's just a nightshirt, it can't have walked off!"
A bit of a giggle from the bed called her attention back to Vash, who had his real arm out from under the covers and was wiggling his pinky... up? Following the gesture, she finally spotted her nightshirt hanging off the ceiling fan. "Of all the places..." She jumped up a few times to try and grab it, but it remained just ever so slightly out of range. Her attempts were cut short when a series of whistles from Vash made her realize just what she'd been doing in front of him. She reddened as he began to chant 'more, more!' while waving a double dollar in his hand.
"You could be a gentleman and get it for me."
"Okay, though I think you might want to change professions- you'd rake in the cash!"
Her eyebrow twitched. "Did he just..."
¤ ¤ ¤
Outside, a lone fellow heard another loud "Ow! Wha'did I do?" emerge from the Stampede's residence, then saw one of his woman strut by an upper window with a bedsheet wrapped around her. The Stampede himself was close behind, and glanced out the window. "DammitdammitDAMMIT!" He dove for the corner of the next building, forgetting that he was getting his best suit dirty, and scrambled away as fast as he could. He said a quick prayer to be spared from the Typhoon's wrath, and vowed to never, ever go by that house again.
¤ ¤ ¤
As luck would have it, it was a Sunday, and that meant nearly everyone was off work including the residents of one little house. The mood was fairly light around said house, since relaxing was pretty good for lifting spirits, and so were admissions of love. Indeed, there was a danger of the whole place lifting off its foundations and floating off into the sky, if it wasn't for one spike that was holding him down. One that he intended to take care of at noon, when she got back from the later service at the local church.
He was sitting out on a rocking chair they had on the front porch, enjoying the creak it made while stroking the stray cat that sometimes stopped by. Meryl had wanted him to help with the housework, especially the massive mess in the boy's room, but he had other plans.
"I'm going to tell her."
That had been all it took to get him out of the housework. Now he was just enjoying the morning, waiting for Milly to return, while gently rocking back and forth. He had taken the tougher job, after all, and he needed to prepare himself for it. The bell finally sounded, and shortly after the congregation began to walk past. Well, only a few of the kids actually walked, and nearly everyone would turn to keep as much space as the street allowed between themselves and himself. It was just as well, if they did stop and chat he'd probably throw up his goofy mask and that'd make what was next a lot harder. He kept scanning the passerby until the one he was interested in appeared.
She was walking along with a grin on her face, sucking pudding from a can, with Wolfwood's cross slung across her back. As she got closer, he spotted a large blob of it on the side of her mouth, and got out one of the thirty-odd handkerchiefs he had brought. He breathed a silent thanks that he'd get the first one to her innocuously before the hammer fell.
"Hello Milly! You've got a bit of pudding here," pointing to the edge of his lip.
She bent over to look. "I don't see any pudding there. Are you trying to get a kiss Mr. Vash? What would Meryl think!"
"Err..." That wasn't how he expected things to start. "No, no! Same spot, your face!"
"Then why didn't you just say so?"
She took the offered handkerchief and wiped the pudding off, that grin of hers unchanged. He was going to hate himself for what he'd have to do next. He decided on the roundabout route for starters.
"So, what's with the heavy artillery?" he asked, pointing at the cross.
"Well, Nicholas was a priest, so it's only right I bring him to the sermon every Sunday." "She calls it Nicholas, how sweet... in a completely creepy sort of way."
"Well, speaking of Nicholas... I have something to tell you." His smile dropped with his tone. Her own smile faded too, and she set 'Nicholas' down against the wall and leaned back next to it. From behind her hair, now obscuring her face, she startled him out of his planned speech.
"You're going to tell me he was a Gung-Ho Gun, aren't you?"
"You knew?!"
Her voice was very quiet. "He told me that morning... Then he made me promise to stay inside. He said that he had to fight you, and that only one of you would come back... And you came back. Nicholas didn't."
The silence was oppressive as it stretched on. The first sound he heard was a teardrop hitting the wood planks of the porch. As if that was a signal, she turned to him, looking at him with pain filled eyes.
"I have to know, Mr. Vash... Did you fight him?"
He met her gaze, glad that this was a answer where truth would hurt less. "No. We never fought. He pointed his gun at me, and I said that I'd let him kill me, if he'd promise to never kill again after that. He lowered his gun, and then saved me from a sniper's bullet with that very cross. He resigned from the Gung-ho Guns with that act."
She smiled a bittersweet smile and turned away. "I'm glad."
There was another long silence. A gust of wind passed by, as she dabbed at her eyes.
"Then how did it happen?"
"I don't know. He said there were two Gung-Ho Guns. I went after the sniper, Cain, while he faced the other one. I don't know what happened to him after that, just that somewhere along the way he was mortally wounded. I never found the other Gung-Ho Gun, so they must have gotten away."
"So I'll never know..."
"There is one left who might know. Knives. My brother."
"The one upstairs, right?"
"Yeah."
Another silence. This time, he broke it.
"So, what will you do?"
"I'll ask him when he wakes up. Then I'll just go on. It's all we can do."
She turned, and opened the door to go inside. "Could you get Nicholas? I don't feel very strong right now..."
"Milly, you have no idea how strong you really are..." He picked up the cross, and followed her in. Meryl was there, supporting Milly as she took the stairs up one by one. He shut the door walked up after the girls, placing the cross in front of the window in their room just how she liked it.
¤ ¤ ¤
Later that day, he dropped a large package in the town's mailbox. He had added a little extra to the contents as an afterthought before bundling it up. The stamps had been personally licked by Milly, who had been overjoyed when he asked her to do it. He knew she liked it- it was probably the main reason she wrote each family member individually instead of sticking it all in one big pouch. As for himself, he wasn't exactly feeling happy. Remnants of feelings from the earlier confrontation dogged him, as did drudged up memories. However, he did feel more at peace, and considered it to be a good thing in the long run. There was one less weight on him, and even thought it was only a psychological one, it did feel a whole lot easier to walk. Then again, the face he could see on the porch waiting for him also made his steps lighter. Then a thought struck him. "Oh man, when am I going to propose? I'll need a ring, but I can't afford one now! I'll have to get a job, but nobody'll hire me around here... Well, maybe at one of the places the girls work at, but that'd be awkward, not to mention whoever's in charge will probably be looking over my shoulder the whole time. Maybe a quick trip to a town where I've got a bank account would-"-THUD-
He remained upright for a moment as the foreward velocity died down, then gracefully tipped back to fall flat on his back while the support post for the porch silently mocked his attempt to pass through it. The stray cat hopped up on his chest, looked him in the face, and meowed a rather smelly comment on his situation all of two inches from his nose. It hopped off as Meryl reached down to pull him up. "Thinking much, are we? You shouldn't try to do that and anything else, that poor brain of yours can't handle the strain."
"Meryl, you're so mean..." he whined as she pulled him up.
Dang, Fluff to Angst in the span of one chapter. I'm exhausted. At least I got a bit of a plot budge here. I figure one or two more chapters worth of character development, then things pick up in a big way. I've got plans for the insurance girls, big plans. Yes, plans indeed... /evil cackle/
Reviewer Responses
Sorian: Ask and ye shall receive!
SapphireWhiteTiggress: Well, thank you, here's an update!
Rise of the Silver Stars
Chapter 3: Removing a Weight
"Ugh, where is it?"
The room was a mess. Crumpled paper covered most of it, including the still-buried Knives. The side of the room that wasn't covered in paper was instead covered with clothing and bedsheets. She had managed to find just about everything Vash had discarded last night, but couldn't find the only piece she had brought in on her. She may have let him see her as she was in both mind and body, but everyone else wasn't going to.
"It's just a nightshirt, it can't have walked off!"
A bit of a giggle from the bed called her attention back to Vash, who had his real arm out from under the covers and was wiggling his pinky... up? Following the gesture, she finally spotted her nightshirt hanging off the ceiling fan. "Of all the places..." She jumped up a few times to try and grab it, but it remained just ever so slightly out of range. Her attempts were cut short when a series of whistles from Vash made her realize just what she'd been doing in front of him. She reddened as he began to chant 'more, more!' while waving a double dollar in his hand.
"You could be a gentleman and get it for me."
"Okay, though I think you might want to change professions- you'd rake in the cash!"
Her eyebrow twitched. "Did he just..."
¤ ¤ ¤
Outside, a lone fellow heard another loud "Ow! Wha'did I do?" emerge from the Stampede's residence, then saw one of his woman strut by an upper window with a bedsheet wrapped around her. The Stampede himself was close behind, and glanced out the window. "DammitdammitDAMMIT!" He dove for the corner of the next building, forgetting that he was getting his best suit dirty, and scrambled away as fast as he could. He said a quick prayer to be spared from the Typhoon's wrath, and vowed to never, ever go by that house again.
¤ ¤ ¤
As luck would have it, it was a Sunday, and that meant nearly everyone was off work including the residents of one little house. The mood was fairly light around said house, since relaxing was pretty good for lifting spirits, and so were admissions of love. Indeed, there was a danger of the whole place lifting off its foundations and floating off into the sky, if it wasn't for one spike that was holding him down. One that he intended to take care of at noon, when she got back from the later service at the local church.
He was sitting out on a rocking chair they had on the front porch, enjoying the creak it made while stroking the stray cat that sometimes stopped by. Meryl had wanted him to help with the housework, especially the massive mess in the boy's room, but he had other plans.
"I'm going to tell her."
That had been all it took to get him out of the housework. Now he was just enjoying the morning, waiting for Milly to return, while gently rocking back and forth. He had taken the tougher job, after all, and he needed to prepare himself for it. The bell finally sounded, and shortly after the congregation began to walk past. Well, only a few of the kids actually walked, and nearly everyone would turn to keep as much space as the street allowed between themselves and himself. It was just as well, if they did stop and chat he'd probably throw up his goofy mask and that'd make what was next a lot harder. He kept scanning the passerby until the one he was interested in appeared.
She was walking along with a grin on her face, sucking pudding from a can, with Wolfwood's cross slung across her back. As she got closer, he spotted a large blob of it on the side of her mouth, and got out one of the thirty-odd handkerchiefs he had brought. He breathed a silent thanks that he'd get the first one to her innocuously before the hammer fell.
"Hello Milly! You've got a bit of pudding here," pointing to the edge of his lip.
She bent over to look. "I don't see any pudding there. Are you trying to get a kiss Mr. Vash? What would Meryl think!"
"Err..." That wasn't how he expected things to start. "No, no! Same spot, your face!"
"Then why didn't you just say so?"
She took the offered handkerchief and wiped the pudding off, that grin of hers unchanged. He was going to hate himself for what he'd have to do next. He decided on the roundabout route for starters.
"So, what's with the heavy artillery?" he asked, pointing at the cross.
"Well, Nicholas was a priest, so it's only right I bring him to the sermon every Sunday." "She calls it Nicholas, how sweet... in a completely creepy sort of way."
"Well, speaking of Nicholas... I have something to tell you." His smile dropped with his tone. Her own smile faded too, and she set 'Nicholas' down against the wall and leaned back next to it. From behind her hair, now obscuring her face, she startled him out of his planned speech.
"You're going to tell me he was a Gung-Ho Gun, aren't you?"
"You knew?!"
Her voice was very quiet. "He told me that morning... Then he made me promise to stay inside. He said that he had to fight you, and that only one of you would come back... And you came back. Nicholas didn't."
The silence was oppressive as it stretched on. The first sound he heard was a teardrop hitting the wood planks of the porch. As if that was a signal, she turned to him, looking at him with pain filled eyes.
"I have to know, Mr. Vash... Did you fight him?"
He met her gaze, glad that this was a answer where truth would hurt less. "No. We never fought. He pointed his gun at me, and I said that I'd let him kill me, if he'd promise to never kill again after that. He lowered his gun, and then saved me from a sniper's bullet with that very cross. He resigned from the Gung-ho Guns with that act."
She smiled a bittersweet smile and turned away. "I'm glad."
There was another long silence. A gust of wind passed by, as she dabbed at her eyes.
"Then how did it happen?"
"I don't know. He said there were two Gung-Ho Guns. I went after the sniper, Cain, while he faced the other one. I don't know what happened to him after that, just that somewhere along the way he was mortally wounded. I never found the other Gung-Ho Gun, so they must have gotten away."
"So I'll never know..."
"There is one left who might know. Knives. My brother."
"The one upstairs, right?"
"Yeah."
Another silence. This time, he broke it.
"So, what will you do?"
"I'll ask him when he wakes up. Then I'll just go on. It's all we can do."
She turned, and opened the door to go inside. "Could you get Nicholas? I don't feel very strong right now..."
"Milly, you have no idea how strong you really are..." He picked up the cross, and followed her in. Meryl was there, supporting Milly as she took the stairs up one by one. He shut the door walked up after the girls, placing the cross in front of the window in their room just how she liked it.
¤ ¤ ¤
Later that day, he dropped a large package in the town's mailbox. He had added a little extra to the contents as an afterthought before bundling it up. The stamps had been personally licked by Milly, who had been overjoyed when he asked her to do it. He knew she liked it- it was probably the main reason she wrote each family member individually instead of sticking it all in one big pouch. As for himself, he wasn't exactly feeling happy. Remnants of feelings from the earlier confrontation dogged him, as did drudged up memories. However, he did feel more at peace, and considered it to be a good thing in the long run. There was one less weight on him, and even thought it was only a psychological one, it did feel a whole lot easier to walk. Then again, the face he could see on the porch waiting for him also made his steps lighter. Then a thought struck him. "Oh man, when am I going to propose? I'll need a ring, but I can't afford one now! I'll have to get a job, but nobody'll hire me around here... Well, maybe at one of the places the girls work at, but that'd be awkward, not to mention whoever's in charge will probably be looking over my shoulder the whole time. Maybe a quick trip to a town where I've got a bank account would-"-THUD-
He remained upright for a moment as the foreward velocity died down, then gracefully tipped back to fall flat on his back while the support post for the porch silently mocked his attempt to pass through it. The stray cat hopped up on his chest, looked him in the face, and meowed a rather smelly comment on his situation all of two inches from his nose. It hopped off as Meryl reached down to pull him up. "Thinking much, are we? You shouldn't try to do that and anything else, that poor brain of yours can't handle the strain."
"Meryl, you're so mean..." he whined as she pulled him up.
Dang, Fluff to Angst in the span of one chapter. I'm exhausted. At least I got a bit of a plot budge here. I figure one or two more chapters worth of character development, then things pick up in a big way. I've got plans for the insurance girls, big plans. Yes, plans indeed... /evil cackle/
Reviewer Responses
Sorian: Ask and ye shall receive!
SapphireWhiteTiggress: Well, thank you, here's an update!