Nicholas D. Wolfwood (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fullofmercy) wrote2007-05-17 10:55 pm
fullofmercy) wrote2007-05-17 10:55 pm
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You know who the best damn person to have in a Quick Draw contest is? The guy who's known everywhere as the sharpest gunman in the world: someone who stopped the Nebraska family with six shots, someone whose name alone can send the population of a city into a panicked frenzy.
And if it happens that this same guy happens to be a soft touch for a little kid, a beautiful woman, and a good cause...well, then, that's just some good luck right there.
Honestly, he's a little amazed at how quickly Vash was won over by his little plan, but maybe he shouldn't have been. After all, this is the guy who jumped out of a moving bus to help save a little girl in the desert--hardly the monster everyone seems to think he is.
It was a piece of cake, really.
...Right up till the part where it turned out that Vash had signed him up for the damn thing, too.
"What?!?"
Goddammit.
Should have just turned the idiot in. Oh, jeez. $$60,000,000,000 would have been more than enough, hell, she just needs a few thousand to get back on her feet.
The suns are bright in his eyes, and they glint off the dusty bottles balanced on the remainder of someone's old house or bar here on the outskirts of town. He huffs a sigh. Off to his right, he catches a flash of red and he can see that big girl's waving hand from behind Vash's pointy head.
"Tch." For love and peace.
Yeah, right.
One, two, three, four, five: it's hardly an effort at all to break a few stupid bottles, even using someone else's gun. This can't be worth the trouble. It isn't as though Vash isn't going to win the damn thing anyway, after all.
And once he gets back to the sidelines, that insurance girl won't stop squealing in his ear. It's giving him a headache. "How come you're so good at that?"
Well, at least someone's happy about this whole mess. "We live in a dangerous world. It's for self-protection."
She claps her hands together, suddenly enough to make him jump. "Maybe you're an ex-gunman!"
He can feel Vash watching him, and even his snarled "Get real!" doesn't make the sensation go away.
It doesn't make her shut up, either.
"You guys are pretty good."
They both look up. It's hard to see the man's face at this angle with the suns behind him, but it doesn't matter. He's just got a message for them. "But your spree is at an end. You're not up against no liquor bottles this time around."
Wolfwood squints at him. There's something funny about the way he walks off...a kind of shuffle in his stride...
"What?!?"
Uh, that's not so good.
Vash, looking panicked, practically has him by the throat, and Wolfwood loses the other guy in all the shaking and noise. "What did he mean?"
What...
He can feel his own eyes widen. "You mean you didn't know? Listen, you dragged me into this..."
"Live one on one combat?!?"
Ow. What a decibel level.
He wrenches himself free, and sits back in his chair with his arms crossed. "Look, this is hardly my fault."
It's another four rounds before Vash decides to talk to him again at all.
And if it happens that this same guy happens to be a soft touch for a little kid, a beautiful woman, and a good cause...well, then, that's just some good luck right there.
Honestly, he's a little amazed at how quickly Vash was won over by his little plan, but maybe he shouldn't have been. After all, this is the guy who jumped out of a moving bus to help save a little girl in the desert--hardly the monster everyone seems to think he is.
It was a piece of cake, really.
...Right up till the part where it turned out that Vash had signed him up for the damn thing, too.
"What?!?"
Goddammit.
Should have just turned the idiot in. Oh, jeez. $$60,000,000,000 would have been more than enough, hell, she just needs a few thousand to get back on her feet.
The suns are bright in his eyes, and they glint off the dusty bottles balanced on the remainder of someone's old house or bar here on the outskirts of town. He huffs a sigh. Off to his right, he catches a flash of red and he can see that big girl's waving hand from behind Vash's pointy head.
"Tch." For love and peace.
Yeah, right.
One, two, three, four, five: it's hardly an effort at all to break a few stupid bottles, even using someone else's gun. This can't be worth the trouble. It isn't as though Vash isn't going to win the damn thing anyway, after all.
And once he gets back to the sidelines, that insurance girl won't stop squealing in his ear. It's giving him a headache. "How come you're so good at that?"
Well, at least someone's happy about this whole mess. "We live in a dangerous world. It's for self-protection."
She claps her hands together, suddenly enough to make him jump. "Maybe you're an ex-gunman!"
He can feel Vash watching him, and even his snarled "Get real!" doesn't make the sensation go away.
It doesn't make her shut up, either.
"You guys are pretty good."
They both look up. It's hard to see the man's face at this angle with the suns behind him, but it doesn't matter. He's just got a message for them. "But your spree is at an end. You're not up against no liquor bottles this time around."
Wolfwood squints at him. There's something funny about the way he walks off...a kind of shuffle in his stride...
"What?!?"
Uh, that's not so good.
Vash, looking panicked, practically has him by the throat, and Wolfwood loses the other guy in all the shaking and noise. "What did he mean?"
What...
He can feel his own eyes widen. "You mean you didn't know? Listen, you dragged me into this..."
"Live one on one combat?!?"
Ow. What a decibel level.
He wrenches himself free, and sits back in his chair with his arms crossed. "Look, this is hardly my fault."
It's another four rounds before Vash decides to talk to him again at all.