Ah, back in the saddle again... It feels good, real good to be able to surf the net again!
...I'm bored...
Disclaimer: Things seem much cooler when you don't have them.
Rise of the Silver Stars
Chapter 9: A Quick Tune-Up
A sand lizard's life was usually one of long quiet times interspersed with moments of supreme panic. It was actually rare for one to die at the hands of a predator- their little hearts would simply quit before a killing blow landed. However, ever since the sky was streaked with lights many seasons ago, a new threat had arisen. Large, fast moving creatures that would barrel down upon them in moments to smash them between the ground and their curious round feet. Much like that one that was barreling down at this particular lizard that just wanted to warm up for some midday hunting. It was too fast to dodge, as the information began to work through its small cluster of brain cells. However, this time the inevitable 'thump-squish' was averted as the massive creature dodged aside at the last moment, instead merely spraying a shower of sand over the lizard that had just realized it should be panicking. Then the large creature was gone, and it went back to sunning itself, forgetting about the whole incident.
This is how fate works.
¤ ¤ ¤
"You nearly wrecked us over a lizard."
It was in the form of a question, but the speaker wasn't one to ask questions, so it was merely a statement. It was a shame really, if you didn't ask, how could you learn? Maybe if he asked questions more often, he would have turned out better. There was a lot of work to be done before he would understand...
"Well, I couldn't just run the poor little guy over!"
Milly backed him up. "That's right! I'd feel just terrible if I ran over something."
Knives let his frown deepen as he glared back at Milly through the small rear window of the truck cab. "Well, if you do it again, try to swerve a little harder. Maybe we'll lose some useless baggage."
Milly either missed the implication or just let it roll off her back, just as she had the last five times Knives alluded to dumping her in the middle of the desert. Meryl would have gotten into a shouting match with Knives hours ago, but with the only human around being Milly, Knives' barbs lost their point. That didn't stop him from trying. It was probably the right time to reveal his own set of barbs.
"You know, you sure do act a lot like Meryl."
"How dare you compare me to them!"
Ooh, good snarl. He'd have to poke that spot a few more times. However, something else came to notice that required a slight shift in topic. "So, brother-"
"Be quiet. You make a fool of yourself every time you open your mouth, so you ought to leave it closed."
"But this might be important..."
Knives shut his eyes and let out a measured sigh to indicate that it had better be of importance. "Speak."
"Why's the steering wheel like that?"
Knives glanced over at the offending piece of equipment, and appraised it silently. "You warped the steering or suspension with that stunt of yours. Stop so I can assess the damage."
He brought the truck to a standstill, noting that it wobbled like a drunkard as he slowed. That couldn't be a good sign. Knives was soon under the truck, so he sat on the driver's seat with the door open and his legs splayed out towards the ground. The suns were cut off as a large figure leaned over the cab with a sandwich in hand. "Eat up Mr. Vash! Meryl would have a fit if she found out that I wasn't taking care of you."
He took the offering with a smile and thanks. Mmm, salmon... He took a huge bite out of it, then began to choke on it when he tried to swallow. Luckily, the canteen was already dangling down from above. "Really now, you should chew your food thoroughly. Pudding?"
He accepted both with gratitude. He let the hand with the pudding cup dangle down while he cleared the blockage of fish and bread with the canteen. Unfortunately, the mass got stuck again further down, and he dropped the pudding while pounding his chest to get things moving again. He peered down, but the cup was gone. Come to think of it, so was Knives.
"I don't see why you make such a big deal over this. Low nutritional value, and the taste is unrefined."
Knives was on the other side of the truck, pudding in hand and half eaten. That prickling feeling that he got whenever trouble was about to start was back. Milly stood up in back, frowning as she got a bit puffy. "That's not for you."
"Well, brother had difficulty maintaining his grip, and I was curious. Besides, I do not take orders from a human."
Milly hopped out and glared at him. Knives moved back a few inches, then returned the glare with redoubled intensity. Milly didn't budge. "Mr. Knives... You are not a nice person!" She then turned and strode to the back of the truck with arms crossed and nose up. Knives twitched slightly, then his frown became twisted with anger and he reached after her. "I did not dismiss you yet!"
At that point, a series of events took place. The truck wheels dug a little more into the sand on one side, causing a change in the tilt of the truck bed. This in turn caused the various items stowed there to adjust their positions to form a new equilibrium with the downward acceleration. One item didn't regain an equilibrium, instead just growing progressively worse as it tilted further, gaining momentum. It then met the retaining wall of the truck, but a combination of height and a high center of gravity caused it to flip over the wall instead of being retained. The end result of all this was that Knives ended up with a Cross Punisher on his foot.
"Ahh... It hurts!" Knives fell onto his back, clutching his foot. "It hurts! It hurts!"
He jumped up, but Milly was faster. By the time he had rounded the truck, she already had his boot off and was inspecting the limb for damage. "It looks okay, but let me-"
"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Knives practically yanked his foot out of her hands and scrambled back. Milly just froze, her expression moving from surprise to concern to sadness. She picked up the cross and placed it back in the truck bed, then walked around to the other side without a word. "What are you doing brother, get over here now!"
He jumped back into the moment, and went to check the foot himself. Nothing was broken, though it would undoubtedly be tender for some time, and a bruise was forming. He said as much to Knives, who had propped himself against the front wheel.
"Be faster next time. You did break the suspension, so we will need to stop at a service station, the sooner the better. We don't have the materials for a repair without undue energy use."
"Ah man... Where are we going to find a town out here?"
"That way," came a voice from above.
"Huh?"
Milly was pointing off to the left of the way they had been heading from a vantage point on top of the cab. "I can see a plant over that ridge."
Leave it to Milly to do something as simple as climbing on top of a truck to try and find a town, and then actually find one. Her voice lacked its usual cheer. He slapped up his happy mask and announced "Well then, we had best be off!" Inside, though, he couldn't help but think that Knives had finally managed to get to Milly. His brother was going to need a lot of help, and the true magnitude of the effort was starting to manifest. However, right now, he'd just have to coax the truck into town before something important fell off. A few bounces and door slams later, they were skidding over the sand in the direction of the town.
¤ ¤ ¤
"You know, I think I've been here before."
"With how you wandered about with the spiders, I'd think you'd have been to every nest by now."
"No, I mean recently."
"Well, the sign says Warrens City. Any information you can recall would be helpful."
"Warrens... Warrens..." He remembered, and a grin spread. "Yeah, I have been here! The people know me, I'm something of a local hero. Stopped a bank robbery and got a real party going!"
"So you stopped a spider from feasting off its fellows and your act of generosity was so astounding to their minds that you were elevated to a position of worship. Fitting."
"Aw, Knives... You're not even trying."
"But I am. They are still alive, aren't they?"
"Yeah yeah, big thanks for not searing them with a magnifying glass."
He left out one little detail about his last visit. Knives would go ballistic if he knew about how he had lent his angel arm gun to the local gunsmith for a tune-up. He could already hear the screaming about irresponsibility and foolishness, which would only make his just-formed plans to get both of the guns tuned up send the screaming to a new level of cacophony. Therefor, he would dump Knives at the local inn where he could remain happily locked up in a room until his own end was finished getting everything fixed up.
It actually went even more smoothly than he had hoped. Knives practically jumped at the chance to spend a while cooped up in a room by himself, having snatched the key out of his hand and vanishing up the stairs before the proposal was finished. Than left him and Milly with the run of the town. First things first- he was going to gorge himself silly at the bar. He burst in with Milly in tow. "Grandma, bring on the grub!"
A loud clang halted his latest quest for the perfect meal, as his head stopped rattling from the flying pan that had impacted it. "I mean, could I please have the house special ma'am?"
"That's more like it. I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever come back." Her gravely yet friendly voice was bemused as she set out a plate for him. He noted that the gun she had mounted on the wall was still well polished. A nice pile of steaming, er, something was set out before him. Whatever it was, it smelled great, so he dug in without further ado as the old barlady got another plate read for Milly. "Goodness, are you a traveling priest now?"
"Oh no, I'm still in insurance! I just take it with me."
"Well, just so long as you aren't still getting mixed up with bank robbers. We had someone with a cross just like that pass through about a year ago. That wasn't a man you'd soon forget, especially since he was carrying around your friend's gun."
"Yeah, he wasn't someone you'd ever forget..."
Being a barkeeper, the old lady knew every sign of a sad story being dug up, so she let the matter drop and returned her attention to her other customer. "So, It's been what, nearly three years Vash?"
He choked on his food. He pounded his chest a few times to get it moving again as the old lady laughed and bent over to find something under the bar. She came back up as the food finally went down, and plopped a book in front of him- his book. "You never gave your name, but it wasn't too hard to figure out after reading about your meeting and thoughts with Marlon in here. For the record, that coward of a bank robber was more a legendary outlaw than you'd ever be, at least as this lady sees it."
He resumed his gorging, speaking through the food. "Uh, thanks, I guess. Was that a complement?"
"Take it as you will. So, I take it you're back to see Frank Marlon for yet another tune up?"
"Oh yeah! I need my guns in the best shape possible. Wouldn't want a stray shot hurting anyone."
"Well, let me say that you've got your work cut out for you. Bounty hunters the world over are heading for Inepril. There's been a nearly nonstop flow of them through this town, not to mention what it's like on the steamers."
"Aw man..."
"Well, it's not like you weren't asking for it. Marlon's got a new place- he's gone back to being a gunsmith, but he won't make them for just anyone like the old days. He's been asking every customer what they intend to do with what he makes them, and if he doesn't like the answer, then it's a no-sale. You can find him on the west side of town."
He nodded thanks, having just stuffed his cheeks so full that there was hardly any room for breathing, let alone words. A mighty gulp later, he was finished and turned to go. "Alright! That really hit the spot! Thanks for the food ma'am!" The frying pan came down again. "Not so fast. Twelve double dollars."
"But I'm the town hero!"
"Yeah, you are, one of the heroes out of nearly the whole town. And since we're all equals in heroism... Twelve double dollars."
He fished out the money and paid the lady. "There truly is no such thing as a free lunch."
¤ ¤ ¤
Business was so-so. Plenty of customers out for a legendary Frank Marlon Special, but not a one actually worthy of having one. Dang bounty hunters. Some of the offers had been beyond generous, but money was no motivation for him. If anything, it was a discouragement. Desire for money had taken something important beyond words from him, and he was thus immune to the allure it held for so many men. Happiness can't be bought, nor could souls taken by the reaper. It was the rare man that walked in and could walk out with one of his guns these days. Thus, he was putting a lot more care into the few that he made, trying to make the weapon almost a part of the one who carried it. He had a small collection of news articles of events where his guns had been used to protect people, to help the innocent. A fair number came from one couple that had gone on to join the Cavalry and make quite a name for themselves with heroic deeds and general do-goodery- it was in part payment since they hadn't been able to offer much when they first came. But he had see it in their eyes, the desire to make the world better, so he let the price slide. It was a good deal, as far as he was concerned.
The door opened just as he leaned back to bask in the mid-day sunbeam from the skylight. He heard two clunks on the table. Good lord, were they upping the ante to whole sacks of money? If it was those damn McDougal brothers again, he's throw them out on the street with their filthy money. He opened his eyes, and through the glare noticed that it wasn't money on the table. It was a pair of guns, one of which was quite familiar. He leaned foreward, out of the sunbeam, and grinned as he saw the face on the other end of the table.
"Hey Vash. It's rude to have a friend not tell you their name, only to find out who it is in some book."
"Heh, so you've read it too?"
"Yeah. You weren't very flattering about me, but I figure I deserved every word."
"Well, we can't all be perfect."
"Ha! You're one to talk." He started to examine the two guns. Pretty good shape, this would probably be a quick fix. "You've made some whoppers."
"Yea, I sure have... which actually raises a question. Even knowing what I've done, all the misery that I've caused, why are you helping me? I heard from grandma that you were rather picky these days about who you did business with."
"Well, that's true. You have done some horrible things, but I don't feel that its your fault, or if it is, that you deserve to be blamed for it. We all make some bad choices, but it's what we do afterward that's important. And from what you've done, I think you just might be able to bring peace and equality to the world. Heck, you brought me out of my own private hell and made me start living again. Anyone who would do that for any man deserves another chance. Life is funny that way- it's so easy to lose, but when you think you're dead and really not, it seems miraculous to realize that you can still live. Kind of feels like I owe you my soul."
They both laughed at that. The silver gun was done, the ruddy black one was next. As he poked at it, noting that it really needed some work, he noticed that someone had come in with Vash. She was a bit plain, but there were two features that really stood out about her. One was the giant wrapped cross across her back, and the other was that smile she had. It held no secrets, it just radiated pure happiness, a direct line to the heart. If she was a customer, she was getting a sidearm. "So Vash, did you find yourself a woman? Didn't notice anything in the book."
He was treated to a sight of Vash the Stampede, one of the most feared men in history, blush and stutter like a shy teenager asking a crush out on a date. If he hadn't been involved in such delicate work, he'd have busted out a few whoops right then and there as the humanoid typhoon stared down at his fidgeting fingers. "Well, yeah, she's really quite nice once you get to know her. It actually took a while for us to get together, it kinda took writing that book for me to work up the nerve to ask her, and- ooh, it's embarrassing!"
The lady patted Vash on the back. "My big big sister always said there's nothing to be embarrassed about when you're dealing with love. It just gets in the way of happiness."
"Well, I'll wish the two of you the very best."
Their heads swiveled around, a look of shock on Vash and a look of curiosity on the lady's. Vash spoke up first. "You think me.. and her?" His gaping mouth looked bigger right then than the crater on the fifth moon did. The lady's smile got bigger and she laughed, almost more of a loud giggle and downright musical. "Don't be silly! He's in love with Meryl, not me."
Now it was his turn to blush and stutter, and nearly drop the bullet cylinder. "Aw, I'm really sorry ma'am, I just thought that when you came in with him that you two were, ah, you know..."
"Oh no. I'm just keeping an eye on Vash the Stampede for the Bernardelli Insurance Society. Meryl got called back, but we should be meeting up again when we get to Inepril City. Until then, I have to keep Mr. Vash under twenty four hour surveillance. It's very important!"
"Ah. Then I guess you're not here for a gun?"
"That's right, though if you have the time, I do have one I'd like you to look at, if you aren't too busy."
"Well, for someone like you, I can make time. Just set it down and I'll get to it right after this one, Ms... Uh..."
"I'm Milly Thompson!" She thrust her hand in his face. "And I'm Frank Marlon. Pleased to meet you." They shook hands, or rather he thought he had- it felt like a vise had just clamped his hand. She had strength, that much was certain. After the 'handshake', she brought the cross down and it hit the floor with quite a thud. One tug at a strap, and bindings on it all came off. "It's a little unusual, but I would like to keep it in the best shape possible."
"Er... I just do guns, I'm not much for church stuff, even such detailed items..."
"But it is a gun. It's called a Cross Punisher, though I don't really like that name." She swung it up, and he nearly dropped the parts again as the long end neatly slid apart to reveal a heavy caliber machine gun barrel.
"Well I'll be... And you can use that?"
"Well, no. I don't like to hurt people, so I use my stungun instead. However, he always kept it the best condition. He never let it out of his sight, it was always by his side, even when he..." Damn. He knew that look from years of staring into a mirror.
"You needn't say another word. I'll fix it up good as new, though it looks very complex- it'll probably take me all night."
"Oh, time's not a problem, we've got a bit of trouble with our transport, so we'll be here for a while," offered Vash.
"Then it's settled! Thank you Mr. Marlon!" She grabbed his hand and shook it again, making his own smile a bit forced as he winced.
"My pleasure... Anyway, This one should be done shortly, so feel free to look around."
Vash and Milly began to do just that while he worked on the ruddy black gun. Vash poked at some of his equipment and the gun collection, while Milly found his article collection pinned up on the wall. He re-bored the bullet chambers then worked on balancing the weight along the gun barrel. A sudden exclamation from Milly brought his attention back to his guests. "I had one just like this when I was little!" She was holding up his daughter's favorite doll, and the look on her face... It brought tears to his eyes. That was the exact way his little girl had looked when he got her that doll. He grabbed a nearby rag and blew his nose in it. When he brought it away, she was smiling at him just a foot or two away.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you sad..."
"It's okay, it just happens from time to time. Sometimes old wounds will start hurting, it just happens."
She nodded and moved off. He set himself back to work, and finished the repairs on the other gun Vash had brought in. "All done Vash. I hope you can use them as you intend to." Vash picked them up and gave them a twirl before cleanly holstering them both. "Thanks buddy. Want to go get a drink?"
"Nah, I don't do alcohol anymore. I want to remember who I am, even if it does hurt sometimes. Besides, I've got another gun to work on."
Vash and Milly nodded, and said their good-byes. After they left, he turned his attention back to the Cross Punisher, only to notice that his daughter's doll had been left on top of it. It smiled up at him, the frayed stitches that formed it showing signs of age. He sighed and picked it up to place it back on the shelf, but stopped before letting go.
"What do you think? Would you be happier with her?" It didn't answer, of course. He just shook his head and moved to place the Cross Punisher on his workbench, when he found that it was a lot heavier than it looked. It took some serious heaving to get it up, and it threatened to break the supports that held it up so he could get at all sides of it. How could she possibly carry it around? The answer was simple, really- love made it light for her. It was still a shame though- left with her beloved's most important possession, and she wouldn't use it because someone might get hurt if she did. That just wasn't right.
He sighed as he started to dismantle the outer casing, revealing the complex innards. Whew. Three different weapons in one, ten if you counted each handgun separately. As he poked at it, an idea began to form. He considered it for a time while he oiled up the joints, wondering if it was a good one. He turned to the doll- it only smiled at him. "So, think I should do it?" A clattering at that moment brought his attention back to what he was doing. A support had been knocked loose inside the gun, thus the handguns had all fallen out of the Cross Punisher to lay in disarray underneath.
Ooh, a longer chapter this time around. We're sticking with Vash & company for now, so Meryl will be left hanging.
Knives: From the gallows, I hope.
Fourth wall, Knives! See that nice horizontal rule up there? You can't go past that!
Reviewer Responses
Sorian: Er, yeah. Pain is fun! ¤drops a Legato plushie, walks away while humming¤
coffeetin: I think it's pretty good proof that not only do bad things happen to good people, but the bad things are quite obstinate in making sure they get to said good people.
SapphireWhiteTiggress: Was this sufficiantly fast? (Yet still so slow...)
Disclaimer: Things seem much cooler when you don't have them.
Chapter 9: A Quick Tune-Up
A sand lizard's life was usually one of long quiet times interspersed with moments of supreme panic. It was actually rare for one to die at the hands of a predator- their little hearts would simply quit before a killing blow landed. However, ever since the sky was streaked with lights many seasons ago, a new threat had arisen. Large, fast moving creatures that would barrel down upon them in moments to smash them between the ground and their curious round feet. Much like that one that was barreling down at this particular lizard that just wanted to warm up for some midday hunting. It was too fast to dodge, as the information began to work through its small cluster of brain cells. However, this time the inevitable 'thump-squish' was averted as the massive creature dodged aside at the last moment, instead merely spraying a shower of sand over the lizard that had just realized it should be panicking. Then the large creature was gone, and it went back to sunning itself, forgetting about the whole incident.
This is how fate works.
"You nearly wrecked us over a lizard."
It was in the form of a question, but the speaker wasn't one to ask questions, so it was merely a statement. It was a shame really, if you didn't ask, how could you learn? Maybe if he asked questions more often, he would have turned out better. There was a lot of work to be done before he would understand...
"Well, I couldn't just run the poor little guy over!"
Milly backed him up. "That's right! I'd feel just terrible if I ran over something."
Knives let his frown deepen as he glared back at Milly through the small rear window of the truck cab. "Well, if you do it again, try to swerve a little harder. Maybe we'll lose some useless baggage."
Milly either missed the implication or just let it roll off her back, just as she had the last five times Knives alluded to dumping her in the middle of the desert. Meryl would have gotten into a shouting match with Knives hours ago, but with the only human around being Milly, Knives' barbs lost their point. That didn't stop him from trying. It was probably the right time to reveal his own set of barbs.
"You know, you sure do act a lot like Meryl."
"How dare you compare me to them!"
Ooh, good snarl. He'd have to poke that spot a few more times. However, something else came to notice that required a slight shift in topic. "So, brother-"
"Be quiet. You make a fool of yourself every time you open your mouth, so you ought to leave it closed."
"But this might be important..."
Knives shut his eyes and let out a measured sigh to indicate that it had better be of importance. "Speak."
"Why's the steering wheel like that?"
Knives glanced over at the offending piece of equipment, and appraised it silently. "You warped the steering or suspension with that stunt of yours. Stop so I can assess the damage."
He brought the truck to a standstill, noting that it wobbled like a drunkard as he slowed. That couldn't be a good sign. Knives was soon under the truck, so he sat on the driver's seat with the door open and his legs splayed out towards the ground. The suns were cut off as a large figure leaned over the cab with a sandwich in hand. "Eat up Mr. Vash! Meryl would have a fit if she found out that I wasn't taking care of you."
He took the offering with a smile and thanks. Mmm, salmon... He took a huge bite out of it, then began to choke on it when he tried to swallow. Luckily, the canteen was already dangling down from above. "Really now, you should chew your food thoroughly. Pudding?"
He accepted both with gratitude. He let the hand with the pudding cup dangle down while he cleared the blockage of fish and bread with the canteen. Unfortunately, the mass got stuck again further down, and he dropped the pudding while pounding his chest to get things moving again. He peered down, but the cup was gone. Come to think of it, so was Knives.
"I don't see why you make such a big deal over this. Low nutritional value, and the taste is unrefined."
Knives was on the other side of the truck, pudding in hand and half eaten. That prickling feeling that he got whenever trouble was about to start was back. Milly stood up in back, frowning as she got a bit puffy. "That's not for you."
"Well, brother had difficulty maintaining his grip, and I was curious. Besides, I do not take orders from a human."
Milly hopped out and glared at him. Knives moved back a few inches, then returned the glare with redoubled intensity. Milly didn't budge. "Mr. Knives... You are not a nice person!" She then turned and strode to the back of the truck with arms crossed and nose up. Knives twitched slightly, then his frown became twisted with anger and he reached after her. "I did not dismiss you yet!"
At that point, a series of events took place. The truck wheels dug a little more into the sand on one side, causing a change in the tilt of the truck bed. This in turn caused the various items stowed there to adjust their positions to form a new equilibrium with the downward acceleration. One item didn't regain an equilibrium, instead just growing progressively worse as it tilted further, gaining momentum. It then met the retaining wall of the truck, but a combination of height and a high center of gravity caused it to flip over the wall instead of being retained. The end result of all this was that Knives ended up with a Cross Punisher on his foot.
"Ahh... It hurts!" Knives fell onto his back, clutching his foot. "It hurts! It hurts!"
He jumped up, but Milly was faster. By the time he had rounded the truck, she already had his boot off and was inspecting the limb for damage. "It looks okay, but let me-"
"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Knives practically yanked his foot out of her hands and scrambled back. Milly just froze, her expression moving from surprise to concern to sadness. She picked up the cross and placed it back in the truck bed, then walked around to the other side without a word. "What are you doing brother, get over here now!"
He jumped back into the moment, and went to check the foot himself. Nothing was broken, though it would undoubtedly be tender for some time, and a bruise was forming. He said as much to Knives, who had propped himself against the front wheel.
"Be faster next time. You did break the suspension, so we will need to stop at a service station, the sooner the better. We don't have the materials for a repair without undue energy use."
"Ah man... Where are we going to find a town out here?"
"That way," came a voice from above.
"Huh?"
Milly was pointing off to the left of the way they had been heading from a vantage point on top of the cab. "I can see a plant over that ridge."
Leave it to Milly to do something as simple as climbing on top of a truck to try and find a town, and then actually find one. Her voice lacked its usual cheer. He slapped up his happy mask and announced "Well then, we had best be off!" Inside, though, he couldn't help but think that Knives had finally managed to get to Milly. His brother was going to need a lot of help, and the true magnitude of the effort was starting to manifest. However, right now, he'd just have to coax the truck into town before something important fell off. A few bounces and door slams later, they were skidding over the sand in the direction of the town.
"You know, I think I've been here before."
"With how you wandered about with the spiders, I'd think you'd have been to every nest by now."
"No, I mean recently."
"Well, the sign says Warrens City. Any information you can recall would be helpful."
"Warrens... Warrens..." He remembered, and a grin spread. "Yeah, I have been here! The people know me, I'm something of a local hero. Stopped a bank robbery and got a real party going!"
"So you stopped a spider from feasting off its fellows and your act of generosity was so astounding to their minds that you were elevated to a position of worship. Fitting."
"Aw, Knives... You're not even trying."
"But I am. They are still alive, aren't they?"
"Yeah yeah, big thanks for not searing them with a magnifying glass."
He left out one little detail about his last visit. Knives would go ballistic if he knew about how he had lent his angel arm gun to the local gunsmith for a tune-up. He could already hear the screaming about irresponsibility and foolishness, which would only make his just-formed plans to get both of the guns tuned up send the screaming to a new level of cacophony. Therefor, he would dump Knives at the local inn where he could remain happily locked up in a room until his own end was finished getting everything fixed up.
It actually went even more smoothly than he had hoped. Knives practically jumped at the chance to spend a while cooped up in a room by himself, having snatched the key out of his hand and vanishing up the stairs before the proposal was finished. Than left him and Milly with the run of the town. First things first- he was going to gorge himself silly at the bar. He burst in with Milly in tow. "Grandma, bring on the grub!"
A loud clang halted his latest quest for the perfect meal, as his head stopped rattling from the flying pan that had impacted it. "I mean, could I please have the house special ma'am?"
"That's more like it. I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever come back." Her gravely yet friendly voice was bemused as she set out a plate for him. He noted that the gun she had mounted on the wall was still well polished. A nice pile of steaming, er, something was set out before him. Whatever it was, it smelled great, so he dug in without further ado as the old barlady got another plate read for Milly. "Goodness, are you a traveling priest now?"
"Oh no, I'm still in insurance! I just take it with me."
"Well, just so long as you aren't still getting mixed up with bank robbers. We had someone with a cross just like that pass through about a year ago. That wasn't a man you'd soon forget, especially since he was carrying around your friend's gun."
"Yeah, he wasn't someone you'd ever forget..."
Being a barkeeper, the old lady knew every sign of a sad story being dug up, so she let the matter drop and returned her attention to her other customer. "So, It's been what, nearly three years Vash?"
He choked on his food. He pounded his chest a few times to get it moving again as the old lady laughed and bent over to find something under the bar. She came back up as the food finally went down, and plopped a book in front of him- his book. "You never gave your name, but it wasn't too hard to figure out after reading about your meeting and thoughts with Marlon in here. For the record, that coward of a bank robber was more a legendary outlaw than you'd ever be, at least as this lady sees it."
He resumed his gorging, speaking through the food. "Uh, thanks, I guess. Was that a complement?"
"Take it as you will. So, I take it you're back to see Frank Marlon for yet another tune up?"
"Oh yeah! I need my guns in the best shape possible. Wouldn't want a stray shot hurting anyone."
"Well, let me say that you've got your work cut out for you. Bounty hunters the world over are heading for Inepril. There's been a nearly nonstop flow of them through this town, not to mention what it's like on the steamers."
"Aw man..."
"Well, it's not like you weren't asking for it. Marlon's got a new place- he's gone back to being a gunsmith, but he won't make them for just anyone like the old days. He's been asking every customer what they intend to do with what he makes them, and if he doesn't like the answer, then it's a no-sale. You can find him on the west side of town."
He nodded thanks, having just stuffed his cheeks so full that there was hardly any room for breathing, let alone words. A mighty gulp later, he was finished and turned to go. "Alright! That really hit the spot! Thanks for the food ma'am!" The frying pan came down again. "Not so fast. Twelve double dollars."
"But I'm the town hero!"
"Yeah, you are, one of the heroes out of nearly the whole town. And since we're all equals in heroism... Twelve double dollars."
He fished out the money and paid the lady. "There truly is no such thing as a free lunch."
Business was so-so. Plenty of customers out for a legendary Frank Marlon Special, but not a one actually worthy of having one. Dang bounty hunters. Some of the offers had been beyond generous, but money was no motivation for him. If anything, it was a discouragement. Desire for money had taken something important beyond words from him, and he was thus immune to the allure it held for so many men. Happiness can't be bought, nor could souls taken by the reaper. It was the rare man that walked in and could walk out with one of his guns these days. Thus, he was putting a lot more care into the few that he made, trying to make the weapon almost a part of the one who carried it. He had a small collection of news articles of events where his guns had been used to protect people, to help the innocent. A fair number came from one couple that had gone on to join the Cavalry and make quite a name for themselves with heroic deeds and general do-goodery- it was in part payment since they hadn't been able to offer much when they first came. But he had see it in their eyes, the desire to make the world better, so he let the price slide. It was a good deal, as far as he was concerned.
The door opened just as he leaned back to bask in the mid-day sunbeam from the skylight. He heard two clunks on the table. Good lord, were they upping the ante to whole sacks of money? If it was those damn McDougal brothers again, he's throw them out on the street with their filthy money. He opened his eyes, and through the glare noticed that it wasn't money on the table. It was a pair of guns, one of which was quite familiar. He leaned foreward, out of the sunbeam, and grinned as he saw the face on the other end of the table.
"Hey Vash. It's rude to have a friend not tell you their name, only to find out who it is in some book."
"Heh, so you've read it too?"
"Yeah. You weren't very flattering about me, but I figure I deserved every word."
"Well, we can't all be perfect."
"Ha! You're one to talk." He started to examine the two guns. Pretty good shape, this would probably be a quick fix. "You've made some whoppers."
"Yea, I sure have... which actually raises a question. Even knowing what I've done, all the misery that I've caused, why are you helping me? I heard from grandma that you were rather picky these days about who you did business with."
"Well, that's true. You have done some horrible things, but I don't feel that its your fault, or if it is, that you deserve to be blamed for it. We all make some bad choices, but it's what we do afterward that's important. And from what you've done, I think you just might be able to bring peace and equality to the world. Heck, you brought me out of my own private hell and made me start living again. Anyone who would do that for any man deserves another chance. Life is funny that way- it's so easy to lose, but when you think you're dead and really not, it seems miraculous to realize that you can still live. Kind of feels like I owe you my soul."
They both laughed at that. The silver gun was done, the ruddy black one was next. As he poked at it, noting that it really needed some work, he noticed that someone had come in with Vash. She was a bit plain, but there were two features that really stood out about her. One was the giant wrapped cross across her back, and the other was that smile she had. It held no secrets, it just radiated pure happiness, a direct line to the heart. If she was a customer, she was getting a sidearm. "So Vash, did you find yourself a woman? Didn't notice anything in the book."
He was treated to a sight of Vash the Stampede, one of the most feared men in history, blush and stutter like a shy teenager asking a crush out on a date. If he hadn't been involved in such delicate work, he'd have busted out a few whoops right then and there as the humanoid typhoon stared down at his fidgeting fingers. "Well, yeah, she's really quite nice once you get to know her. It actually took a while for us to get together, it kinda took writing that book for me to work up the nerve to ask her, and- ooh, it's embarrassing!"
The lady patted Vash on the back. "My big big sister always said there's nothing to be embarrassed about when you're dealing with love. It just gets in the way of happiness."
"Well, I'll wish the two of you the very best."
Their heads swiveled around, a look of shock on Vash and a look of curiosity on the lady's. Vash spoke up first. "You think me.. and her?" His gaping mouth looked bigger right then than the crater on the fifth moon did. The lady's smile got bigger and she laughed, almost more of a loud giggle and downright musical. "Don't be silly! He's in love with Meryl, not me."
Now it was his turn to blush and stutter, and nearly drop the bullet cylinder. "Aw, I'm really sorry ma'am, I just thought that when you came in with him that you two were, ah, you know..."
"Oh no. I'm just keeping an eye on Vash the Stampede for the Bernardelli Insurance Society. Meryl got called back, but we should be meeting up again when we get to Inepril City. Until then, I have to keep Mr. Vash under twenty four hour surveillance. It's very important!"
"Ah. Then I guess you're not here for a gun?"
"That's right, though if you have the time, I do have one I'd like you to look at, if you aren't too busy."
"Well, for someone like you, I can make time. Just set it down and I'll get to it right after this one, Ms... Uh..."
"I'm Milly Thompson!" She thrust her hand in his face. "And I'm Frank Marlon. Pleased to meet you." They shook hands, or rather he thought he had- it felt like a vise had just clamped his hand. She had strength, that much was certain. After the 'handshake', she brought the cross down and it hit the floor with quite a thud. One tug at a strap, and bindings on it all came off. "It's a little unusual, but I would like to keep it in the best shape possible."
"Er... I just do guns, I'm not much for church stuff, even such detailed items..."
"But it is a gun. It's called a Cross Punisher, though I don't really like that name." She swung it up, and he nearly dropped the parts again as the long end neatly slid apart to reveal a heavy caliber machine gun barrel.
"Well I'll be... And you can use that?"
"Well, no. I don't like to hurt people, so I use my stungun instead. However, he always kept it the best condition. He never let it out of his sight, it was always by his side, even when he..." Damn. He knew that look from years of staring into a mirror.
"You needn't say another word. I'll fix it up good as new, though it looks very complex- it'll probably take me all night."
"Oh, time's not a problem, we've got a bit of trouble with our transport, so we'll be here for a while," offered Vash.
"Then it's settled! Thank you Mr. Marlon!" She grabbed his hand and shook it again, making his own smile a bit forced as he winced.
"My pleasure... Anyway, This one should be done shortly, so feel free to look around."
Vash and Milly began to do just that while he worked on the ruddy black gun. Vash poked at some of his equipment and the gun collection, while Milly found his article collection pinned up on the wall. He re-bored the bullet chambers then worked on balancing the weight along the gun barrel. A sudden exclamation from Milly brought his attention back to his guests. "I had one just like this when I was little!" She was holding up his daughter's favorite doll, and the look on her face... It brought tears to his eyes. That was the exact way his little girl had looked when he got her that doll. He grabbed a nearby rag and blew his nose in it. When he brought it away, she was smiling at him just a foot or two away.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you sad..."
"It's okay, it just happens from time to time. Sometimes old wounds will start hurting, it just happens."
She nodded and moved off. He set himself back to work, and finished the repairs on the other gun Vash had brought in. "All done Vash. I hope you can use them as you intend to." Vash picked them up and gave them a twirl before cleanly holstering them both. "Thanks buddy. Want to go get a drink?"
"Nah, I don't do alcohol anymore. I want to remember who I am, even if it does hurt sometimes. Besides, I've got another gun to work on."
Vash and Milly nodded, and said their good-byes. After they left, he turned his attention back to the Cross Punisher, only to notice that his daughter's doll had been left on top of it. It smiled up at him, the frayed stitches that formed it showing signs of age. He sighed and picked it up to place it back on the shelf, but stopped before letting go.
"What do you think? Would you be happier with her?" It didn't answer, of course. He just shook his head and moved to place the Cross Punisher on his workbench, when he found that it was a lot heavier than it looked. It took some serious heaving to get it up, and it threatened to break the supports that held it up so he could get at all sides of it. How could she possibly carry it around? The answer was simple, really- love made it light for her. It was still a shame though- left with her beloved's most important possession, and she wouldn't use it because someone might get hurt if she did. That just wasn't right.
He sighed as he started to dismantle the outer casing, revealing the complex innards. Whew. Three different weapons in one, ten if you counted each handgun separately. As he poked at it, an idea began to form. He considered it for a time while he oiled up the joints, wondering if it was a good one. He turned to the doll- it only smiled at him. "So, think I should do it?" A clattering at that moment brought his attention back to what he was doing. A support had been knocked loose inside the gun, thus the handguns had all fallen out of the Cross Punisher to lay in disarray underneath.
Ooh, a longer chapter this time around. We're sticking with Vash & company for now, so Meryl will be left hanging.
Knives: From the gallows, I hope.
Fourth wall, Knives! See that nice horizontal rule up there? You can't go past that!
Sorian: Er, yeah. Pain is fun! ¤drops a Legato plushie, walks away while humming¤
coffeetin: I think it's pretty good proof that not only do bad things happen to good people, but the bad things are quite obstinate in making sure they get to said good people.
SapphireWhiteTiggress: Was this sufficiantly fast? (Yet still so slow...)