[ vash had remained in the army barracks for less than twenty-four hours, just long enough to get a meal in him and a solid six hours of shut-eye. he left the very next morning when the rising sun was but a mere suggestion on the horizon line, dying the expansive skies of the free cities a pastel mix of baby blue and lavender.
he hadn't exactly been on good terms with the militarized police of no man's land, so being in such close proximity with cadens' finest made him... itchy. enlisting was never going to be an option.
a young cadet had at least been forthcoming with information about other places taking in the freshly summoned.
vash pushes open the double doors of the sarstina inn-slash-tavern. this early in the day there's only a smattering of tired-eyed patrons dolefully spooning breakfast into their mouths or gulping down scalding hot coffee. his exchange with magmara ("you can call me mag.") had been brief and to the point-- she was an old hand at this by now. in exchange for labor and errands, vash would be provided for. ]
Need a top-up?
[ which is why he's armed with a kettle pot filled with fresh coffee in hand and a gamely smile. ]
> cadens - scrappy salvagers
[ folks lugging around hunks of sheet metal isn't surprising, especially when he'd heard talk of the inclement weather and seen the warning! keep out! signs posted on buildings that looked like they'd seen better days. the flooding and the storms had done a number on cadens.
but what does surprise him-- no, it worries him-- is the degree of which of those are children. unattended children.
he's about to try and stop a kid who can't be a day over six dragging a twisted piece of plumbing through the sand when he hears the caterwauling of another. between shuddering, hiccuping sobs they cry for help. it takes all of a few moments for vash to chase down the sound, at the full-tilt speed he runs towards it, and finds it's coming from deep within a bear trap of wreckage. he manages to drag aside a chunk of siding, thankful that the prosthetic arm they'd provided him at the barracks was a lot more sturdy than the one he'd had when he'd been summoned to solvunn, but realizes pretty quickly that he can't do this alone. it's not for a lack of strength, but a lack of hands-- moving the debris could cause the whole wreck to shift, crushing the precious cargo inside.
he crouches and sticks his head in as far as he can. ]
I'm here! You're going to be okay! Just stay still for me, all right?
[ then he turns his attention outwards, searching for anyone nearby that might be of some help. ]
> nocwich
[ he remembers this place.
vash had politely let the person who handed him his enchanted pendant give their three minute explanation about how portal magicks worked, where he was headed, and the days of the month that he could return here to pass through again, free of charge. then he'd stepped through with the confidence of someone who knew exactly what lay beyond the shimmering fog of the portal, and that they'd arrive in one piece and not horrifically discombobulated.
the riot of color and rich smells of oleuni square hit him twicefold-- both in the now and in memory. he really was back in abraxas. why?
money was a bit easier to come by in the free cities than it had been in solvunn, which means he easily covers the cost of a pair of skewers heavy with boar meat from the same stall he'd first tried boar at. he doesn't bother to see if the vendor working the till recognizes him. it'd just hold up the line.
he finds an empty bench to park himself, to eat and to watch the crowd intently to see if there are any more familiar faces milling about. he quietly hopes he does. ]
> wildcard!
(( none of my prompts doing it for you? hit me up with something better! also hi again sob ))
vash the stampede | trigun stampede | death
[ vash had remained in the army barracks for less than twenty-four hours, just long enough to get a meal in him and a solid six hours of shut-eye. he left the very next morning when the rising sun was but a mere suggestion on the horizon line, dying the expansive skies of the free cities a pastel mix of baby blue and lavender.
he hadn't exactly been on good terms with the militarized police of no man's land, so being in such close proximity with cadens' finest made him... itchy. enlisting was never going to be an option.
a young cadet had at least been forthcoming with information about other places taking in the freshly summoned.
vash pushes open the double doors of the sarstina inn-slash-tavern. this early in the day there's only a smattering of tired-eyed patrons dolefully spooning breakfast into their mouths or gulping down scalding hot coffee. his exchange with magmara ("you can call me mag.") had been brief and to the point-- she was an old hand at this by now. in exchange for labor and errands, vash would be provided for. ]
Need a top-up?
[ which is why he's armed with a kettle pot filled with fresh coffee in hand and a gamely smile. ]
> cadens - scrappy salvagers
[ folks lugging around hunks of sheet metal isn't surprising, especially when he'd heard talk of the inclement weather and seen the warning! keep out! signs posted on buildings that looked like they'd seen better days. the flooding and the storms had done a number on cadens.
but what does surprise him-- no, it worries him-- is the degree of which of those are children. unattended children.
he's about to try and stop a kid who can't be a day over six dragging a twisted piece of plumbing through the sand when he hears the caterwauling of another. between shuddering, hiccuping sobs they cry for help. it takes all of a few moments for vash to chase down the sound, at the full-tilt speed he runs towards it, and finds it's coming from deep within a bear trap of wreckage. he manages to drag aside a chunk of siding, thankful that the prosthetic arm they'd provided him at the barracks was a lot more sturdy than the one he'd had when he'd been summoned to solvunn, but realizes pretty quickly that he can't do this alone. it's not for a lack of strength, but a lack of hands-- moving the debris could cause the whole wreck to shift, crushing the precious cargo inside.
he crouches and sticks his head in as far as he can. ]
I'm here! You're going to be okay! Just stay still for me, all right?
[ then he turns his attention outwards, searching for anyone nearby that might be of some help. ]
> nocwich
[ he remembers this place.
vash had politely let the person who handed him his enchanted pendant give their three minute explanation about how portal magicks worked, where he was headed, and the days of the month that he could return here to pass through again, free of charge. then he'd stepped through with the confidence of someone who knew exactly what lay beyond the shimmering fog of the portal, and that they'd arrive in one piece and not horrifically discombobulated.
the riot of color and rich smells of oleuni square hit him twicefold-- both in the now and in memory. he really was back in abraxas.
why?money was a bit easier to come by in the free cities than it had been in solvunn, which means he easily covers the cost of a pair of skewers heavy with boar meat from the same stall he'd first tried boar at. he doesn't bother to see if the vendor working the till recognizes him. it'd just hold up the line.
he finds an empty bench to park himself, to eat and to watch the crowd intently to see if there are any more familiar faces milling about. he quietly hopes he does. ]
> wildcard!
(( none of my prompts doing it for you? hit me up with something better!
also hi again sob))