Disclaimer: Please keep your hands and feet inside the tram at all times, or the psychopath will add them to his collection.
Disclaimer's bigger, meaner sibling: Things are nasty in this one. Parental guidance recommended.
Chapter 32: Aftermath
There was an eerie silence across the mountain. Not a true silence, mind you, as there were some sounds. But these sounds were not of living things. The whistling and moaning winds, the clack and clatter of falling pebbles, those were the sounds of the aftermath. The mountain had become a place for the dead, their lives cut short by malevolent hands. It was into this blighted land Roy walked, eyes sweeping over the bodies, seeking a certain face with near desperate urgency yet hoping not to see it with a grim caricature of death drawn across it.
He wasn't alone. There were others with him, moving up the mountain slowly. They could go no faster- they had to check every body, to try and find any that hadn't quite lost the spark of life. If one was found, there would be a shout and a flurry of action as the closest medic would zip over to coax the spark back into a bright glow. That knowledge just made the not-quite-silence all the worse, for it meant that death's scythe hadn't missed a single mark.
He would look up from time to time but just as quickly looked back down. The entire way ahead was speckled with crimson, dark and foreboding, at times forming short streams before the parched ground sucked it in, at other times pooling upon solid rock. The corpseweeds wasted no time with such a bounty- the tips were already starting to protrude, and he carefully avoided stepping on them. No need to gain more bad luck today.
Seemingly years later, he finally spotted something. He broke the line as he rushed up to check it. The polished barrels of the stungun laid across two bodies, neither hers. He glanced around as he hefted its empty weight, expecting to see her sprawled out nearby- she never let her stungun get far from her.
A sudden rasping wheeze came from his feet, echoing once about the slope. The noise of something alive was so sudden he nearly dropped the gun right back on top of the people it had pinned down. Faces looked up from all across the search line, a profound relief spreading faster than sand in a storm. One of the prone forms rose to a sitting position and began grappling with the mask they wore. He helped it off, revealing a man haunted by what he had seen. He looked up unsteadily, squinting heavily in the light as his gaze wandered. It eventually fell upon the other fellow that had been trapped under the gun's weight, and he began to pull at the other's dust mask. A medic ran up ran up and began to check them both over, meaning he could go back to looking. Sparing a glance upwards, he could see the red splatters ended a little further up, and beyond that someone walking around. The person was nobody he knew, but just knowing there were more living yet to be found raised some rather dismal spirits.
In a shallow bowl a little below the peak, Brilliant Dynamites Neon was working up a good angry rage. What had started out as a good day had quickly gone downhill. First, the Cavalry had obscured most of the opening act with their little attempt at snatching the stage, but that was just part of the play- you had to be able to ad-lib when things didn't go by the script, and that was a mark of the showman. All in all, nothing he couldn't work with. Then Knives had brought in some real performers. That one hurt- they stole the spotlight and kept him in the dark, and that was something nobody did. He had expressed his displeasure by pumping a full clip into the back of one of the big things that had come clawing their way out of the ground, but all it resulted in was a backhand slap that left him with a pretty good bruise across the face. It stung something fierce, but his pride hurt more. They had added insult to injury by completely ignoring him afterward. Even when he brought out his big noisemakers they ignored him. That just made the current situation that much more galling- one of the big things was still here, standing just across the bowl, sparks still flying from the remnants of the 'arm' he had blown off.
Yeah, that pissed him off quite thoroughly. He had gone through all his ammo save for the last clip in his little shinys, and considering that the thing was either all metal or nearly so meant he couldn't do one damn thing more to it. Whatever it was knew that too, and even lacking a true face he could practically see it smirking. That was the third insult of the day- it had just been standing there, right across from where he sat, doing a whole lot of nothing while it sparked and he fumed. That brought him to the fourth reason for him to get a good rage brewing- what the mechanical monster and him were both watching over. It also just happened to be the guy he was supposed to do the grand finale with. Vash was keeled over in the very center of the bowl, sleeping like an overgrown baby. They were supposed to be finishing things, but no, the Humanoid Typhoon just had to get some beauty sleep. He couldn't even give the red-swathed dolt a wakeup knock, because the one thing that did get a reaction out of "Reasons to be Pissed #3" was approaching Vash. It just swung that big arm around to block any attempt to get closer to the snoring idiot.
Thus, he was steaming while it was sparking, and neither of them had been doing much for nearly an hour. A few of the bounty hunters had woken up and stumbled across them, but turned tail and fled. He should have shot the damn cowards in the back, but he needed to save what ammo he had left, and he certainly didn't need any more corpses lying about contributing to the stink. The day stunk enough already. Suddenly, the thing's demeanor changed from confident to cautious, and he caught sight of a new shadow across the bowl. He waved without bothering to turn around as Rai-Dei walked down. The samurai stopped beside him and looked across at the machine-man.
"Gray the Ninelives."
The name hovered there, not quite leading to anything. The now named machine seemed indifferent, if anything. It made him wonder if it could talk at all. In any case, it seemed there was little to say or do... and come to think of it, two could play the "I don't care about you" game. He laid back and squinted at Rai-Dei out of one eye.
"If anything happens, scream or something. I'm taking a nap."
And having said as much, he did.
He stirred slightly, and instantly regretted it. Moving had spooked a Thomas that had somehow lodged itself in his head, and what now bashing against his skull to try and get out. He groaned and brought a hand up to calm it down, but found that he couldn't stick a hand in his own head. Rather unfair that a Thomas could find its way in but his hand couldn't...
"Mr. Vash!"
He groaned again. "Not now Milly, Mr. Vash has a hangover."
"But I can't find Meryl anywhere!"
"Probably went to powder her nose in the ladies room..."
"I can't find Mr. Knives either!"
Really now, did she have to shout everything at him? It was scaring the Thomas even more, and it wasn't like they were fighting or... anything...
He jolted upright as the memories finally came to him. He mentally shoved aside the pain and began to /look/ for Meryl and his brother, but couldn't find a trace of either. He staggered to his feet and took a few strides forward before he tripped over a rock in the dark and fell down flat. He scrambled back up and was about to set out again, when he realized he didn't have a clue as to which way to go. Knives could disappear when he wanted to, and tracking him down would be next to impossible without being able to look for signs of which way he had left... Come to think of it, why was it dark?
"Milly, what time is it?"
"I'm not quite sure, but I think it's around three o'clock."
It was three o'clock? But it was way too dark for it to be... "Oh no..."
"I've been out all day, haven't I?" He dropped his head into has hand and rubbed at the throbbing pain. The battle had started at sunup yesterday, and even with a few delays it couldn't have been much past seven when Knives left communication range... That meant Knives had nearly a full day's head start. The trail was definitely way past cold by now. He sagged down, still clutching his head. Everything had gone wrong. Knives was gone, Meryl was gone, hundreds had died, and he had let two of his brother's minions right in without suspecting a thing. Good lord, he had blown it royally this time. He never should have taken Knives back to the girls, he never should have voiced his true feelings towards Meryl, he never should have trusted anyone that hung around Knives...
His brooding was cut short when Milly hesitantly began talking to him. "We tried to wake you earlier, but Mr. Gray wouldn't let anyone near you..."
"The Ninelives." He had never directly met that particular Gung-Ho Gun, since Wolfwood dealt with him up in Sky City. He had seen the remains, but evidently Ninelives' name was to be taken literally- including the one destroyed in Sky City, that totaled eight of the destruction machines he could account for. The thus far unseen ninth likely held a whole new bag of tricks he'd have to deal with when the time came, and that time would likely come sooner rather than later- to get to Meryl, he'd have to get to Knives, and to get to Knives he'd have to go through all his underlings just like before. That was probably why one of the Ninelives' lives had stayed- Bro had undoubtedly left him a signpost, and it was just like him to use someone for that purpose when an actual signpost could have done just as well.
"Where is Gray the Ninelives?"
Milly looked to the side. Just as he turned a pair of inhuman eyes lit up like the twin suns and bore down on them both. Milly stumbled back a bit in the sudden glare, but he was in no mood for little psychological tricks- not that glowing eyes would impress him one bit. He brought his gun up slowly and asked the question.
"Where's Knives?"
Gray stood there motionless.
"Tell me where Knives is!"
After a few seconds, Gray began to move. There was a good deal of creaking as it slowly dropped to one knee, then the one arm still on this form of Gray poked a finger into the ground and began to drag it through the stone. It lifted it one once, then set it back in to break through more rock. Once Gray was done, it looked down and illuminated its answer, carved into the very rock itself.
"NO"
Well, this minion wasn't one to waste words. He doubted he'd be able to get much of anything out of it if this was how it talked. He'd have to be careful in what he asked it- both not to reveal too much of his thoughts, but also in order to get answers short enough for it to inscribe. Now, what was the best way to approach this...
"Mr. Gray, what does Mr. Knives want us to do?"
"Great, nice going Milly." He about slapped himself. Of all the...
More cracking noises brought his attention back to Ninelives. It was writing its answer into the ground, this time engraving four letters in one short word.
"WAIT"
Well, that was simple enough, though troubling. If Knives wanted them to wait, then that meant he was preparing something and didn't want to be disturbed. He knew from grim experience that whatever was being prepared wouldn't be something he'd like. It also meant that taking Meryl must have been a part of Knives' plan. Knives had known full well that he could extract whatever information he needed from anyone left behind, so that meant Meryl was Knives' insurance that he actually waited. Bro had picked up a sick sense of humor for a pun like that... Of course, human life meant nothing to Knives- bro probably thought the whole thing was a light joke. He certainly wasn't laughing.
"Fine. Now you wait right there until you have something more to say." He turned and walked up the slope, out of the bowl, towards some flickering firelight. He was entirely capable of waiting however long it took. The only question was whether Meryl would last in Knives' clutches. One thing was quite certain- if Knives had harmed Meryl in any way, then brother would find out just how deadly a real typhoon could be.
What a day. Lina wanted to put a little more description than that into it, but it was hard to think. Her head had been buzzing all day and well into the night. It was hard to recall anything from earlier. Whenever she tried, disjoined images flashed through her mind. Masked faced, snarls of rage, shouts, screaming, a whirlwind, running figures, still figures... and crimson being painted, spilled, stagnating... And digging. A lot of digging, in hard stony ground. Just dig down a few feet then dig across as long as you could, there wasn't any time to think when you were digging, and that was good. She hadn't wanted to think of what was going on behind, in the already dug hole, of the soft lone murmuring voice that could be heard between the strikes of shovels and pickaxes. Just focusing on the dirt got her through the day, but her arms failed her sometime past dusk. That was when the memories began to surface.
Sometimes they would come in sequence, but mostly they came at random. She was, in turns, crying, quivering, and giggling like crazy. This would have been mortifying if not for the fact that quite a few others were acting just the same, scattered loosely among the various fires that dotted the summit. It was a crazy mixture of people now- it had started out with the Cavalry, soon joined by various surviving bounty hunters, and towards sundown infused with armored figures with a love for neon lights. It was a situation ripe for conflict, but none came. There was simply too much that had to be done, so differences were overlooked- an unspoken truce. They had to finish the digging. Even now she could hear them, the rhythmic ring of iron against stone oddly calming. Then there was the soft crunching of a pair of boots on the ground, heading her way. She looked up. A familiar face cracked an apologetic smile at her.
"Seen the elephant, I take it?"
"What's an elephant?"
Her voice surprised her. It sounded like she had grown old and grey in just a few hours. Roy shook his head and patted her on the shoulder.
"It's what the old timers always said to the new folks who joined the Cavalry, right after their first battle. I don't know what an elephant is myself, but I think it's something very scary the first time you see it. Then I think it's not so bad and kinda nice once you know it, or at least not so scary, or maybe it's just not a surprise anymore. Either way, the second time you see one is never as bad as that first time, because you know what you're facing. Battle is the same way, though I rather wish it wasn't. Maybe if it was always so horrible, people would be more keen to sit down and talk rather than fight."
She mulled it while staring into the fire. Yeah, that was some of it, but...
"There's more than just that... I also found out other things, I didn't want to know. I... I don't think I have any family anymore... I'm all a- a- alone..." She stared down at her feet, and the first sob of many began to work its way up. That was when the gentle touch on her shoulder abruptly turned into a viselike grip that spun her around. Roy looked her right in the eye, his expression so intense she froze completely, yet barren of anger. Not even the slightest hint of annoyance was in his face, just a twinge of sorrow, if anything.
"That's a load of manure if I ever heard one, and being a farmboy I know what that sounds like from twenty iles off. First, you do have family, and he's right over there, not two hundred yarz off!"
"But-"
"But nothing. Once you have family, they stay family, no matter what. Sometimes you learn things you wish you hadn't, and you'll have lots of disagreements, but you'll still be family. Can you tell me the exact moment when he first became your brother? ...Thought so. You can't because there never was any moment. It simply is. You can ignore it, or run away from it, but you'll never be able to break that bond of family. It's more powerful than death, and one of the greatest things we have in life, so don't think about it and just go to your brother."
Next thing she knew, her head was leaning on a shoulder beneath a red coat. She recalled an impassioned speech from the senior Thompson, and the next vivid moment was right here, next to Vash the Stampede. The Humanoid Typhoon, wanted for sixty billion double dollars, leveler of two cities, and able to give a moon a black eye. Also, somehow, her brother. What a crazy, absurd, ridiculous, and generally mixed up world she lived in.
There is a place between sleep and the waking world where both overlap. In this place, nothing is as it seems, as both realms have sway over the person between them, and the mind is still dulled. Too much sleep can make a person become stuck in this state, as the body will only take so much rest before everything that can be refreshed is as good as it can be, and true sleep becomes impossible. This is a good sign that it is time to wake up and start the day. However, in the case of one Meryl Stryfe, there would be no waking until he decided it was time to wake. There was a dim sense that they had finished traveling, but that was it.
Then, quite abruptly, the fog that had been forced into on her mind was lifted. She came to rapidly, spurred along by the throbbing in her shoulder. The lighting in the room was dim, coming as is was from a single emergency light, and it left the corners in darkness. It was enough to tell that she had been left in a bathroom, which was somewhat fortunate in that she urgently had to use the facilities. That done, she began to take stock of the situation and what was available to her, which wasn't much. The light was a clear indication that this was a ship, though there was no telling just where she was inside of it. The room itself was small and sparse- the only items there looked to have been left recently, for her use. A towel, some soap, a washcloth, a filled bathtub, and a notepad left on the sink, one short command written on it- "Clean yourself."
She debated ignoring it, but there were two problems with that. First, Knives might just do it himself if she didn't, and awkward would hardly begin describe it. Second, one look in the mirror showed that she was still splattered with bits of blown up bounty hunter, and just having it on her was nauseating. Obstinance would have to wait until later, for cleanliness was the order of the day. A few minutes later the armor laid in a neat pile by the tub, and the survival suit was being given a critical examination. Considering all it had been through, it was in amazing shape. A washing would probably fix it up almost as good as new with the exception of its left leg, which had several nasty pieces of shrapnel lodged in the fabric. However, the light flexible material hadn't let a single fragment through, despite several impacts of such force that she couldn't pull the metal back out- all in an area without the extra armor. There was only one part she couldn't check, and that was doubtlessly because Knives had removed it before dumping her here. As if a taser could harm him- from what she knew of plants, a few thousand volts would barely tickle.
Having established that she wasn't slowly bleeding to death from an unnoticed wound, she tested the bathwater and grimaced. It was absolutely frigid. Blast Knives, a hot bath was evidently too pampered an amenity for her bruised and aching form. If he was going to make it freezing, he should have gone with just a bucket instead of an entire tub's worth. It wasn't like she needed a whole tub- water was still too costly for actual baths across most of the planet, so she made do with just soap and a sponge. At least she could dunk her head to get the dried blood off her face and out of her hair. She finished quickly, only to find that Knives had bungled on another detail- no change of clothes, though the towel was large enough for modesty. At least she still had the survival suit, and since it didn't seem to absorb water at all, a little dip in the bathtub might get it acceptably clean. In it went, and now she just had to wait.
A quick inspection revealed no methods of exit other than the door, which was quite stubbornly immobile. She plopped down on the edge of the tub and propped her head up with one arm. Her gaze wandered between the dark corners of the room while her other hand began to drum on the side of the tub. A slight feeling of dread began to spread through her. Something was nagging at her, and there was a certain familiarity about the room. Her gaze became uneasy, and the tension made her huddle in until the shifting caused her nails to strike the tub. The short clicks brought back an experience that felt like a lifetime ago, but had occurred only a month ago at best. The small room, the single unchangeable light, the door... This wasn't a bathroom, it was another damn jail cell! A chill came over her, and she began to wring her hands together. She had been getting the most atrocious luck lately...
As her fingers wiggled in unfocused worry, they brushed against something that gave her pause. Bringing her hand up, she stared at her wedding ring. It shined quite well for what light there was, and the glimmer, slight as it was, made the closing in walls rebound. Vash was right here with her, in spirit if not in body. He'd come for her, and he'd beaten Knives once so he could do it again, plus Knives was potentially still not fully recovered from their last fight. The odds were against Knives, so why had he restarted things now? What was the advantage that made him so confident of success?
It didn't take long to figure out. It wasn't what the advantage was, it was who, and she could see the who of the matter in the mirror. The dread returned. As long as Knives held her, Vash wouldn't be able to lift a finger, but she knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't stand by if Knives moved against humanity again. That meant her life was in grave danger, and her well being even more so. Yet despite the hovering sword over her head, her concerns all ended up focused on Vash. She was irreplaceable in his mind, so anything that happened to her would end up tearing him apart, even long after she was gone. She couldn't have that. Her hand reached over and snatched up the pad of paper and the pen underneath, and she began to jot down what came to her. In case the worst happened, he would need this.
The door suddenly screeched and shifted slightly. She grabbed the note and frantically looked for a place to hide it. It would have to be someplace Knives wouldn't look, but Vash would... Yet where would a megalomaniac human hater not look, but a doughnut scarfing ambassador of peace and love would look? The door groaned and began to open, so she grimaced, rolled up the note, and stuck it down her cleavage. It was quite a needlenoggined idea, but the only one she could come up with on such short notice. A hand appeared, and shoved the door the rest of the way open. She crossed her arms and glared at Knives as he stood in the doorway.
"Come with me."
"I'm not done yet, my suit is-"
"Now."
"I won't traipse about in nothing but a towel!"
"I do not care what your state of dress is. Now, you can either walk, or I will drag you by your injured shoulder."
"Fine! I'll walk. So where are we going?"
He didn't answer, instead turning and striding down the corridor, leaving her to scramble to keep up. He led her on a convoluted route through the ship, though from the looks of things it wasn't just to confuse her. The only lights were the same dull red emergency beacons, and the passages were strewn with debris. Panels hung at odd angles, there were collapses in some side passages, and scorch marks were evident everywhere. This ship had come down hard. It didn't take long for them to reach a cavernous room, the main feature of which was a large plant bulb sunk partway into the floor. A nest of cables sprouted from the top, but some of the twined lines looked decidedly out of place- mostly for how they didn't extend up and into the roof, but dropped down and led to some equipment by the bulb. It looked like someone had jury-rigged a medical bay in an engineering section, probably because they couldn't get any energy elsewhere in the ship.
While she was paused just inside the room, Knives had continued onward. He stopped and turned slightly, catching her in the gaze of one ice cold eye. She was getting a very bad feeling about this...
"Are you hiding something from me?"
Knives' voice had a dangerous edge to it, and suddenly she /felt/ him probing her mind. She slammed up the walls as Vash had taught her, but she was a bit too late to prevent him from finding out about some parts. He smiled in that sickly, twisted way of his.
"Ah, a note to brother? An important one too, and not meant for me to see? What could be so important, I wonder? Why don't you be a good spider, and turn it over. /Your mental defenses are merely annoyances, so you should save me the trouble of breaking them down./"
He had her and he knew it. Cheeks burning, she pulled the note out and shoved it into his outstretched hand. She shifted uneasily on her feet as he unrolled it and scanned the lines. Then he surprised her- by laughing. Not an ominous chuckle, or a crazed outburst, but a simple hearty laugh, as if he had just read an incredibly funny joke. It took her a few seconds to process it- Million Knives never laughed like that. Now she was well confused. He tossed aside the note and settled down shortly, but retained an actual grin.
"Oh, you silly creature! You're so far off the mark you hit a different target entirely. You are perfectly safe, a rather unique status for one of your kind. If I wanted a hostage, I'd have taken someone else."
Knives' statement gradually sank in, but it only added to her confusion. "If I'm the only one you won't use like that, then why the hell did you take me?"
"Because brother chose you. When I decided to crash the ships, I meant to let Vash take along his favorite to keep him company while we made our Eden. I actually had one too, but he proved flawed, just like the rest of your pathetic race. Still, because he had been such a help, I granted him a quick death. However, Vash's favorite ran off and died, and he never fully recovered from the loss. This time, I intend to see to it that his favorite will live, though let me assure you that I can make your life supremely painful if you try and use your status to oppose me. However, such a grace does come with a price, and because brother is who he is, you will have to pay it. I took you to insure it."
"I don't understand... What do you want with me?"
"You have absolutely nothing I want. As it is with you spiders, I am simply going to remove the worst and hope the remainder is tolerable."
A chill went down her spine as her eyes darted around the room again. The brightly lit and functional medical equipment took on an ominous note. "You took me because Vash would have never agreed to what you're planning..."
"Precisely. In his ignorance, he thinks your kind can be trusted, but I am not so unwise. To insure one of you does not do something, it must be made impossible for you to do. Now go lay down on the table."
Oh, like she would go and do that after hearing his scheme. While he rooted through a drawer, she rapidly backed away, hopefully to where the exit should be. Once in the passageways, maybe she could lose him in the maze... He glanced up at her. "Tsk, being difficult already?"
He abruptly vanished. Just as her eyes widened in shock at his disappearance, white hot pain ripped through her back. She collapsed into his arms, as her suddenly unresponsive body twitched about uselessly. "So that's where the taser went..."
He hauled her over to the operating table, casually flipped her on it, and began to secure her limbs in place. She tried to struggle, but between the aftereffect of the shock and Knives' own incredible strength, her efforts were ineffective. She could only stare at the top of the plant bulb, only a few yarz distant, and an overhead light while all the bindings were tightened. He snapped on the light then came around to her head. He propped it up so she was now staring down her illuminated length and into the bulb. A reflected beam of light caught him in the eye, and he glared down at the offending piece of metal. He grabbed her hand, and with a bit of tugging pulled the ring off. He spun it around in his grasp.
"Marriage... To one of you... I still can't believe it. You aren't worthy of this, so I'll give it to someone who is."
His words stung, but she bit her tongue. Anything she said would be worse than useless, so she just watched as he walked to the bulb and placed a hand on it. The core rippled and unfolded as the plant angel emerged. The form drifted close to the bulb wall, looking listless and... sad? She was too troubled to put names to her own emotions, let alone those experienced by something else entirely. Her ring dropped down from the hand he had pressed on the bulb, slowly sliding down the inside of the curved barrier. That was wrong- he couldn't just go and do that...
He came back and brought up a number of panels. One was a screen of text, another was a standard life function monitor, and others just appeared to be for holding the implements he brought over. "I'll need you to provide feedback as I work, as human anatomy is not a subject I've studied in much depth. Nothing complicated, just indicate if you feel anything unusual occur."
He shifted the towel up and to the side, out of the way, then swabbed down the exposed skin. He couldn't be that cruel... He wouldn't make her watch...
"I don't want to see..." Her voice was quivering. Tears began to track down her face.
"Just stop it!" He ignored her and selected a scalpel. He checked the text, then focused on her body.
"No, please..." She could barely whisper. The blade came down and began to cut.
"Please..."
¤rioters storm through the streets¤ Hmm... the weekly riot seems especially vigorous this time. Wolfwood, what did you tell them?
Wolfwood: Oh, I just showed them the horror you're orchestrating back in the living realm, nothing much.
Ah, I was wondering why they were brandishing rusty sporks while chanting "Pluck out his eyeballs!"
Wolfwood: Yeah, you just made yourself real popular. Too bad I couldn't bring my cross down here, I can't properly express my ire towards you without live ammo.
Pity, that.
hope-is-4ever: Horrible things, indeed- and it's still on a cliffhanger. Next chapter won't have a cliffhanger, or at least a much subdued one.
Blu: OW! ...you hurt my widdle head... And E.G. Mine is stuck down here with me- the definitely not-dead GhGs now include Zazie (yes, as the magna chick), Elendira, and Gray (though I've twisted the ol' midget carrier/robot into yet another form, different from both anime and magna).
betsytheripper: Glad the action was perky, and that visual is a bit tricky- try tilting the head back, and the line should become more obvious. Probably more painful, too. Elendira is not a nice person.
cjflutterbye: Dear me, I've made you wait way too long. That nyah obviously came back and bit me in the rear. Knives isn't exactly being the nicest of people right now, is he?
Baz: New person! ¤latches on like a leech¤
kitsune: Woah, I induced all that? Hmm, perhaps it's not so bad I've had a rash of slow updates, too much exposure to my work may cause endorphin shock.
Yma: I would have liked to include the Doublefang as well, but when I started I simply had no information on him, and I still don't have enough to adequately portray someone who's become a rather complex character. Elendira was a bit of a stretch, luckily more information became available as I wrote the sections that didn't deal with him/her. And here's a helpful visual equivalent of how Knives will be developed according to The Plan. ¤holds up a piece of Rigatoni¤
Zen Bohemian: Another new person! I will counter your assertion by saying that Wolfwood is no ordinary priest. Plus he seems to be sneaking out on occasion.
Next Chapter: Vash finally learns where Knives ran off to, and sets out in fast pursuit. But will he catch Knives? Are the Gung-ho Guns going to get in his way? And what happens to Meryl? There's only one way to find out, and you won't want to miss it!