Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ Gossamer Wings and Sweet Tasting Things ❯ Meryl ( Chapter 5 )

-----Gossamer Wings and Sweet Tasting Things-----
---A Trigun Fanfiction---

-----DISCLAIMER-----

I do not own Trigun. This is purely from the world of FANDOM.
**Starts singing the national anthem of Fandom**
Dum dee dum. Pleeeeease don't sue me. La lee laaa~

-----AUTHOR'S NOTES-----

Lynda: Mwe heh. I suppose I lied. This came out pretty damn quick, considering length and my current lifestyle.
Again, thank you for the reviews! ^__^ It is encouraging. ;_;

CardMistress Sakura, I'm sure I'll come up with a silly excuse to strip our Wolfy down eventually. DESPITE ratings. ^^;; This fic is just ridiculous, so it couldn't be that out of place... O_o

Kuroneko: Mya.

-----*+*-----

The room was splashed with eerie contrasts. The luminance from the window was a night-time blue, while the light from the bedside lamp cast a warm orange glow across approximately half of everything. Vash blinked in the scant light and made a quick survey of the room. Against the opposite wall was a bed, the obscene amount of blankets rising in a big warm and snug mountain. There was a small desk beside the bed on which sat, dominating the wooden bench top like a crouching and malevolent animal, a typewriter. Scattered around it on the bed and all over the floor were screwed up bits of paper and used tissues. Hordes upon hordes of tissues. Rather like sad and mangled looking victims of the typewriter.

Other than that, the room was pretty dull. It was a very sensible room. There were no posters or personal touches, no little reminders that this was home for someone. In fact, the only colourful object was a vase of bright yellow desert flowers beside the evil typewriter, but Vash had the vague notion that Wolfwood's girl was responsible for it.

The mountain of blankets moved slightly and Vash froze. Layers of material were shoved angrily away and someone emerged, pulling themselves into a sitting position and running a hand through disheveled black hair. It was a girl.

'Well, she's too little to be scary.' Vash murmured, squinting in the scant light and sighing out in relief. The aforementioned girl winced slightly and picked up a mug from the bedside table. She'd been pretending to be asleep... Vash thought, frowning slightly as she took a sip and grimaced.

'Too much honey, Milly.' she said, gagging slightly. She reached over and pulled the evil typewriter into her lap, feeding a bit of paper into it.

'Ok. Target confirmed.' Vash noted, wandering over and peering down at her. She looked young. Short raven black hair messily framed a very pale face, locks falling over forehead loosely. The hue to her skin was obviously due to illness, fatigue adding dark circles under her eyes and tissue overuse tinting her nose red. Vash leant down further, tilting his head to see her face better. Eyes. Despite being sick, she had clear grey eyes. In the scant light they looked slate blue. The gunman grinned.

'She's not scary at all! She's just a kid!' he exclaimed, straightening and grinning with relief. By the way Wolfwood was acting, he had been expecting a short fused woman with a strange disposition for work. The girl adjusted the paper and Vash looked down at the contraption below her hands. It looked just as malevolent up close. She began typing and the gunman found her quite skilled at it. Fingers flew over keys in scary familiarity and he jumped at the small bell that sounded when the reel reached its limit and slid back. Somewhere in the proceedings the paper snagged on something, the smooth actions grinding to a halt. The small girl cursed and fiddled with the writer, inquisitive fingers digging into cavities and twisting bolts. Vash leant in to get a closer look.

Ha. This was Guardian Angel territory, this was. He could fix this easily, thus executing his first helpful act as an Angel. Vash cracked his knuckles and reached into the contraption, seeking a flaw.

There was a series of quiet clicks. The girl blinked and slowly took her hands away, hope clearing her features. The blonde grinned. See? This wasn't so difficult. Vash's fingers found something and he pulled. The typewriter exploded.

The girl coughed weakly, waving away the smoke and running a hand through her ash coated hair. She pushed away the now smoking and mangled piece of machinery resolutely to her knees, distancing her face from the smoldering wreckage. Vash whimpered and salvaged his fingers from the pathetic looking hunk of contorted apparatus.
That wasn't fair. There was nothing in there that was explosive so how did that happen?! Vash knew he had a strange contradicting streak of luck; oddly bad yet irrevocably good, but this was going too far. Either Luck had a very strange sense of humor, or she had turned into a pyromaniac. Either way, it was bad news for him.

Vash shrugged. It was only a typewriter after all. And didn't the chief want her away from it? So he had just inadvertedly conducted a good deed. Yeah... That was it... He backed away from the bed sulkily and sat himself down on the floor, sighing.

'Now what?' he wondered aloud, yawning... He could always try to work that little hunk of metal thingie...

Vash pulled out his Meta-Kard and pressed the only button he knew worked. The screen flickered into life and a little sentence blinked several times.

Good evening Angel#8062 Vash the Stampede.

A little screen blinked on with a really bad picture of him and a great deal of his personal information. Vash winced and shook the Kard several times in case it was possessed. It was bad enough people knowing his name, but inanimate objects with that much knowledge of his intimate details shouldn't be allowed. Anywhere. Ever. He wondered if this was Lina's idea of payback. After some panicked button pressing another screen sprung into life.

Stop that. the message blinked quickly; one could almost say frantically. Vash gazed at it, his thumb poised. The incessant flickering slowed slightly. Vash pressed the button again experimentally.

Stop that. Irresponsible handling will void warranty. the new message read. Ok, there was no denying it.

'Are you talking to me?' he asked the metal card, flinching at the sound of his own voice in the silence. Vash shot a look to the girl in her bed, her typewriter perched on her knees, eyes staring out the window blankly. Satisfied he could speak without bringing attention to himself, the gunman returned to the metal in his hands.

No. came the reply. Vash thought about this suspiciously.

That was sarcasm. it informed him after the long silence, blinking steadily in a delayed manner. Rather like someone speaking slowly to an idiot.

'Oh. Um... Hi. I'm Vash. Who are you?' he asked it, pushing the button for every syllable in a Morse code effect. Who knows? It might work that way...

Your Meta-Kard. it replied.

'Pleased to meet you? ...Er... Say, do you know what I do now?' Push, push, push. Press, press, press.

Will you PLEASE stop pressing my buttons? My circuits are shorting.

'So-Sorry.'

What would you like to know?

'... Can I leave? I'm bored.'

No.

'Oh. Are you sure?'

Yes.

'So, under no circumstance am I to leave? What if meteors fall from the sky causing wide spread panic?'

Currently, the only other option for Reneged Duty is Heiloz demotion or Indecent Behavior arrest .

'...Arrest? You mean I will go back to those three nutcase sisters?!' He pressed the button again subconsciously in his abhorrence of the idea.

I SAID stop that!

'Ok, ok! Geez. So, any idea how long I have to Guard this girl?'

Duty completes in event of one's Guard's death.

'That long?!' Mulling over this sadly, another thought occurred to the tall gunman. 'Well, what should I do now?' he asked, returning his gaze to the small screen.

I'm only a Meta-Kard. I haven't got room for a brain, how should I know?

'...Any suggestions?' the Humanoid Typhoon asked, whining more than a little.

Research. came the reply. Vash thought about this. Fair enough. It might be wise to find out more about his surroundings and Guard. Goodness knows he was going to be here for a long time and he didn't know a thing about the girl.

'Ok, where do I start?' he asked the Meta-Kard enthusiastically, pressing the only button in his excitement. The screen went blank and there was a very electronically frosty silence. Then,

You pressed my button. Again. What did I do to deserve such treatment?!

'Sorry, accident.'

For your incessant harassment, I shall not help you.

'What? Oh, come on! It was an accident! I dunno where to start, help me!'

Leave me be.

'Please? I won't do it again! What's your problem anyway?! You belong to me!' Vash snapped, shaking the card about in his hands. The screen went blank again. Vash clapped a hand over his mouth.

'I'm sorry.' he immediately apologized, patting the metal reassuringly. 'I didn't mean that.' More digital silence. Then, in a strangely antipathetic font, the screen read,

Do you always talk to inanimate objects?

'What? You talked to me first!'

Sorry, I'm an inanimate object. I cannot communicate.

'Aww, gimme a break. Can't we just let bygones be bygones?'

Why do you talk to cards? Beep.

'Come on, help me!'

Beep.

'What?! Hey, you can talk, don't pretend you can't!'

BEEP. came the message, managing to look as smug as text is capable of. Vash began shaking it again, pressing the button repeatedly.

'Don't make me melt you down!' he threatened, rapping the metal on the floor roughly.

Beeeeep. the screen read, managing, despite spelling, to look very much like a swear word. Vash swore himself and threw the card as hard as he could out the window. It beeped all the way out. It was approximately 25 seconds later when Vash realized what he had done.

'COME BACK!! I DIDN'T MEAN IT!!!' he shouted, running to the window and leaning out desperately. Wolfwood would kill him. A Guardian Angel's Meta-Kard was their key to the afterworld... And he had just thrown it over-arm out into the wilderness. He couldn't find out about his Guard without it. 'IF YOU COME BACK I'LL GIVE YOU A MICROCHIP OR WHATEVER IT IS YOUR KIND EAT!!' he bellowed, scanning the street for metal. He didn't find it. There was a sneeze behind him.

'It's too cold in here.' The girl muttered, advancing to the window and slamming it shut. Slamming it shut, that is, with Vash still dangling into the street.
He screamed... Then realized that not only was he unhurt, but the window was completely shut. The glass passed through his midsection seamlessly, as immaterialistic as fog. Meta-Kard momentarily forgotten, Vash blinked and looked behind him at the situation. His stomach tingled, but other than that, he was perfectly fine.

'Well, what do you know.' he murmured, moving to wave a hand through the glass... And hitting solidity. Trying not to panic, Vash tapped on the glass again. Yes, it was very solid.

Uh oh.

Taking a deep breath and praying like hell, Vash placed his hands on the window sill and pushed backward. He failed to move. Not bothering to hide his panic, the gunman pushed back again. Nope. There was a huge lack of ghost like immaterialism here, and he was officially stuck in a Vash's Waist shaped hole in the window. There was some electronic sniggering below. Looking down Vash found his Meta-Kard resting in an old milk bottle crate. The screen was illuminated green so the text could be read.

Ha. Ha. Ha.

Vash swore and tried to reach it, straining down, trying to stretch his already lengthened arms to secure his fingers around the smug hunk of circuitry. The gunman continued his useless thrashing and equally futile stretching for quite some time, pausing only when a small black cat wandered over and began to watch him lazily. He watched back in slight trepidation. The cat blinked it's lime green eyes, yawned, rubbed its back against the milk crate and picked up the Meta-Kard in its mouth.

'Um. That's mine. Mine. Understand? Not your's- No don't- Hey, come back! Don't walk away!! HEY! DON'T TAKE THAT!! COME BACK HERE!!! THAT BELONGS TO ME!!!' Vash shouted as the black cat sauntered away, Meta-Kard held possessively between its teeth. It strolled around a corner and out of view. This turn of events sparked another series of useless thrashing. Not only could he not pass through the glass, but he seemed unable to break it. That didn't stop him from twisting, pushing and pulling like a crazed lunatic, legs dangling off the floor in the room and torso emerging horizontally from the window into the night air. Things just seemed to get from bad to worse in these scenarios.

There were obviously some things about being a Winger that he hadn't been taught yet... Like, how did he pass through the glass initially if he was unable to do so again? Very confusing... The girl in the room behind him coughed miserably, blowing her nose and returning to the snug sanctity of her bed. Vash twisted, trying to look behind him at her.

'Um... A little help?' he asked, hoping that if he wanted it bad enough, he could communicate. Apparently not. She moaned in ill misery and dived under the covers, mangled typewriter discarded. Vash watched the bundle of blankets rise and fall with breath and sighed. He was here until morning, apparently.

Damn.

Vash sighed again and folded his arms, settling himself as much as his position allowed, trying to get comfortable enough to spend the next 12 hours there; half in the room and half out. He Materialized himself a donut and ate it in a bored manner. It was going to be a long night.

-----*+*-----

As the twin suns heaved themselves lazily onto the horizon line, birds greeted their arrival with the usual morning symphony of miscellaneous twittering and trilling. It was all very well and good to listen to, but not when it's been sung directly into your ear. Vash shifted and waved an annoyed hand at the birds. They hopped out of his reach and continued to sing noisily, possibly deliberately, being the evil little demons that they are. Vash sighed again and rested his chin on his hands. Elbows were resting on the sill comfortably and he had spent most the night in this resigned position. Sleep had evaded him however. Vash wondered vaguely whether Angels were allowed to sleep. Who knows? He was also wondering if his prolonged 90 degree angled position would be bad for his back. He had lost feeling in his toes a good 5 hours ago.

After a few more uneventful hours, Vash heard singing. He strained to hear. Not the noisy melodies of the birds, but a human's song. A woman's song. Vash shook drowsiness from his mind and craned his neck to see down the street. From around the corner emerged Milly, humming to herself amiably, all but skipping in the morning frost. Vash watched as she passed him and stood at the door, stamping her feet for warmth and blowing on her fingers. Turning back, the tall blonde waited patiently for the next person to arrive. Sure enough, a few heartbeats later, Wolfwood jogged around the corner looking slightly flustered and annoyed. He was lugging a giant clothe-wrapped cross over one shoulder, the black strap clutched firmly in one hand, the other hand struggling to button his shirt. He grinned when he saw Milly and completely passed Vash unseeing. Something clicked in the priests eyes. Doing an amazing double take, the dark haired man stumbled to a halt, backed up a couple of steps and turned slowly.

'Hello!' Vash called, raising a hand in an embarrassed greeting. Silence. Then, like watching an airborne house drop from a tornado, Wolfwood's cigarette fell from his mouth. It hit the dusty ground about the same time Wolfwood burst into uncontrollable laughter. The priest continued to laugh his head off, the intensity and insanity increasing steadily. Every time it seemed the mirth was subsiding, he would look up and see the blonde gunman hanging half out the window, thus causing him to break out again. Vash folded his arms.

'Go on, laugh it up. I've only been stuck here for 12 hours.' he snapped, glaring at his dark haired companion. This only caused Wolfwood to fall over his cross in hysterics, slowly sinking to the ground in a fit of shoulder shaking laughter. A fist thumped the ground repeatedly and Vash waited in agitation for the man to compose himself. It eventually happened, but not for a good while. Wolfwood wiped the tears from his eyes and pulled himself to his feet, an occasional post hysteric giggle wracking his breathless body.

'Sorry, Tongari, but how the hell did you end up like-' he paused to swallow the threatening snigger, -'like this?' Vash blinked, eyebrow twitching.

'Tongari?!' he demanded, struggling slightly in his prison. Wolfwood grinned and stepped up to him.

'Quit thrashing. Not a bad first night, eh?' he asked, placing a palm on the gunman's forehead. There was a strange feeling of displacement and Vash was pushed into the bedroom gently. The dark haired priest followed, slipping through the wall and window as if they weren't there, enormous cross in tow. Vash groaned and sunk to the ground in a spread-eagled position, twisting his spine into place.

'You don't know half of it.' he replied, rolling his shoulders and grimacing. Wolfwood leaned over him and raised an eyebrow.

'No casualties?' he asked, grinning. Vash winced.

'Um...'

'That,' the priest said quietly, 'was a joke. Don't tell me there was actually some ca-'

'Me, one typewriter and one Meta-Kard.' the blonde blurted, pulling himself to his feet and dusting off his coat.

'Wha-?!'

'The typewriter exploded BY ITSELF!! It wasn't my fault! I only pulled something. Admittedly I don't know what, but that's besides the point! Typewriters are not explosive, so it wasn't me, ok?!'

'Me...ta-Kard...?'

'Um...'

'What happened Tongari?!'

'We got off on the wrong foot and there was a... Misunderstanding. I didn't even find out what my Guard's name was!'

'Stryfe. Meryl Stryfe. Now what happened to your Kard?!'

'I threw it out the window and a cat carried it away.'

'WHAT?!'

'It was being immature and IT STARTED IT!!' Wolfwood looked ready to murder.

Luckily for Vash, Milly chose that time to burst into the room with all the jocularity she could muster. There was much singing and "Good morning Sempai!"s and so on. It was so cheerful it hurt. She promptly walked up to the bed and literally ripped the covers off, only to blink when she realized the occupant wasn't in there.

'Milly, what are you doing?' a voice asked sharply from the bathroom door. The tall brunette spun and a grin broke out on her features.

'Oh, there you are Sempai! I came to wake you up! We have a big assignment when you're feeling better! In fact, you look as good as new now!' she exclaimed picking up the vase of yellow desert weed and rearranging the flowers slightly. Wolfwood and Vash turned to the bathroom door. 'Meryl' was standing there, fully dressed and looking a great deal more healthy than last night.

'I do feel much better,' she admitted, then raised her eyebrows. 'What's this about an assignment?'

'There is a property dispute in Carcasses! The Chief wants us to handle it because the situation has gotten pretty rough. So I've already packed my bags ready to leave when your better!' she chirped, proceeding to make the bed.

'Carcasses? That's iles away!'

'I know, it's going to be on of those big assignments! Aren't you excited?!'

'I think we should get moving as soon as possible. The situation may worsen in our absence.' Meryl noted. Vash blinked.

'Hey, she's pretty sharp for a kid.' he said, turning to his spectorial companion.

'Kid? She's as old as my Guard.' Wolfwood snorted, pulling out a limp cigarette and lighting it. Vash near choked.

'Well, lets get going then! Have you got your typewriter ready?' Milly asked, making her way to the wardrobe and pulling out a suitcase. Meryl flinched.

'I don't know how, but my home one exploded last night.' she replied, waving to the pathetic looking hunk of machinery.

'How did you manage that?' the tall brunette asked incredulously, packing bags and humming cheerfully. Wolfwood glared at Vash who had the decency to look embarrassed.

'I guess I'll have to pick up a portable one at the office on the way out of town.' the shorter of the women sighed, beginning to pick out clothes to put in the suitcase. Wolfwood winced, but turned to Vash.

'I don't know what kind of luck you're in, good or bad, but it looks like you're gonna have some on-the-job training.' he observed, picking up his cross and slinging it over his shoulder. Vash blinked.

'On the job?'

'Oh, hell yeah. This is going to get messy. Hate to throw you in the deep end, but then we don't really have a choice. It's the reason why I dragged this along.' the priest replied, motioning to the enormous cross he was lugging.

'Is someone going to die?' Vash asked, remembering that Wolfwood was indeed, despite appearances, a priest.

'Who knows?' came the enigmatic reply, laden with all the right tones to make Vash wonder if they were thinking about the same concept.

'I don't like the sound of this.' Vash whined, watching in fear as more and more clothes were packed away.

-----*+*-----

-----AUTHOR'S NOTES-----

Lynda: Eheheheh ^^;; LOOOOOOOONG chapter! And, um, that was quite a messy chapter too. The Meta-Kard escapade just fell from my fingers, seriously. I started typing and it just turned out that way. But now it's done, I've fitted it into the story line. O_o;; Ah, well. No biggie, right?
And I kinda hedged around Meryl looking strangely young for her age in the chapter somewhere. It's noted in the anime, I have the same problem so I thought it would be cute to use it for once. **shrugs**

Kuroneko: Mya! =^;_;^=

Lynda: **referring to the cat beside her** What are you whining about? You got your scene.

Kuroneko: MYA.

Lynda: O_o;; Oookay. Anyway, onto the next chapter!! Tra la?