notabluesbro: ([Smile] Pretty girls be linin up)
[It's been a while since the... Well, since the draft. On the most outer part of him, Wolfwood looks like he's faired well enough—but a lot of that is just show, as it's always been. Vash went and died, Sanji's been distant, Nami's gone... The place was so tense, it was impossible to even cut through the thickness at a certain point. But then the New Feather's came trickling in, and with that comes his best performance, best attempt at making it seem like this whole thing didn't bring everything he's stepped toward crashing down over his head.

In terms of finding him...? Well, he's been volunteering to help at the Cloud Nine (has been off and on, but times have been pretty shakey, haven't they? He'll even have a drink or two before he leaves--nothing too big. It's still daylight and he's not a big drinker nowadays, even if he really, really wants to be.

He goes home, takes his turn to watch Noah. He takes the time to talk off and on, maybe write something to a question or two; usual business.]


Welcome, welcome. Hope you guys didn't have a rough landing. Literally—how many of you fell out of the sky, got stuck in trees, the usual? I know the guide answers plenty enough, but hell, I got something else I wanted to offer.

If any of you want lessons on how to shoot a gun—how to take it apart, put it together, reload, just lemme know. Around here? We have plenty of reasons to have a gun. Especially if a bad shift hits. Or if we get assholes throwing dangerous temper tantrums at everyone else.

[When he stuffs the journal in his back pocket (it sits halfway out, like a newspaper in a paperboy bag; like he cares), he plops down beside the six-month-old baby and offers him a hand to grab It's about 30 or 40 minutes after his initial written message, and on par with the usual luck, sometime during his less guarded time with Noah the journal drops behind him on the floor—audio picks up a voice just distant enough to hear despite the muffling of the blanket.]

—geez, you really do got your mother's eyes, I swear. Lookit you, kiddo; we got pretty good genes for blending, huh? [A soft coo; he's probably wiggling fingers at the baby's face. Wolfwood's clearly gotten too used to this.] Lookit that. Hey there. Hey. You got your mama's personality, too, don't ya'?

[Noah giggles. There's a snort.]

Let's hope you got everything from her, huh...? Wolfwood's aren't known for their luck with... anything, I guess. Maybe one or two things, but they don't mean much. [A baby noise, and he let's the boy hold on strong to his fingers, off-screen.] You're strong though. In the way your mother is—not like me. And you won't ever have to worry about anyone treating you wrong while I'm around... Got it? No kid should ever have to feel like they don't belong; I know... I won't let it happen. Not again.

[A shuffle, as he picks Noah up, leans him against his shoulder. He closes his eyes. It's quiet for a long pause.]

Just... don't end up like papa. I've done too much to go back.



The feed goes quiet.
 Answers to that won't show up for a good ten minutes.]

notabluesbro: ([Worried] Well that's a giant lightbulb.)
[Wolfwood's not at his best today. Maybe it's because Katie has flipped her marbles more than usual. There's a cough, a sniff, a heavy rhythm of breaths; the small image on the screen is tilted awkwardly, showing a bloody chin and the edge of a mouth that's grimacing. He'd bother to cover it so there's no images to his voice, but he's sorta trying to recollect his bearings after dealing with echoes that he was not at all thrilled to see. He wipes at the blood that was dripping from his nose, looking more like he'd been in a particularly harsh fist fight than with any guns or swords. Or hit by a car. Yeah, maybe that one.

In other words, Katie is a dick who likes to flick things at his face. And make him see things that causes him problems.

But something's not right about it. Why—? She didn't seem that way before, not in the least. He knows she has an eye on him, but this...

No, something was definitely wrong. He leans back against the tree he's decided to sit under, ribs aching.]

I'm alright, before anyone asks; I mean, alright as in none of this is about to kill me just yet... Get to the clinic eventually, but Katie's lost it—nngh.

[Maybe shifting over that way isn't helpful. He spits some blood from a cut in his mouth. That was probably from the tree log she threw at him.

Don't worry, the log had a safe landing.]

The hell is going on with that kid? Anyone notice something's off with her? This isn't like her at all. Shit... If anyone can tell me anything, I'd be damn grateful.

[... He drags himself to his feet, the journal dangling in one hand while he fishes for a cigarette. There's the faint sound of him complaining behind a smoke:]

It's always me getting into this kinda' trouble...--
notabluesbro: ([...] Well I don't have any.)
 Well, isn't this freaking fantastic?

[Hey guys. Guess who's upside down and stuck to his ceiling? Everything else is in it's normal gravity and positions, of course, so this isn't exactly the best shift he could have picked. Even worse, his journal is stuck on Blingee Mode, and it's not going away.

cut for a hideous blingee gif. you're welcome. )

Not that he's aware it's ruining is perfect grumping face. Stupid shift week. It's ruining his fatherly duties here. And uh, maybe it was his turn to feed the stupid animals, he's not sure.]

Anyone have any interesting tales they've got from this one? I've heard of people's hair turning into brooms--go ahead and ask Vash about that, but I have pictures if he denies it. Maybe I'll make a few medals for 'weirdest shift of the week' for someone. Maybe then you'll feel a little better about walking through a door and ending up in the middle of the ocean, or something.


Kuroneko skutters across the ceiling, right behind Wolfwood.

He sighs and gives up hope that he'll be getting down today.]

Looks like the lights are my only friends up here.
notabluesbro: ([Smile] Well whaddya know...)
[Well, it was three months in the making. Literally, making. But it's over, and Wolfwood's never been so relieved in his life; it was a bunch of paranoid, silly thoughts, ones that he was able to shove aside when everything had a good ending. It was good to know the Wolfwood lineage wasn't eternally damned when it came to healthy births and decent parents.

After he stays with Milly and the baby for a while, he supposes he should put up a quick mention that, y'know, everything went smoothly. While Milly's sleeping, he fidgets with the camera and let's the journal capture a picture of a little fella who looks something like this. Yes, this kid has a lot of hair. He totally gets it from his daddy. Of course, had he had his eyes open, people would have noticed he got a little of his mama to him, too.]

Looks like it's a boy, born 5:30 PM on the dot at a whopping 9 pounds, 7 ounces. [There's a sympathetic twang to his words, because wow; poor Milly, that is just... awful numbers, right there.]  Definitely a healthy kid. Milly's doing good, at least. Nothing bad to report... save for a broken thumb, but I think that's a fair trade for the dad.

[His thumb, yes. He waggles it in front of the journal, but whatever. He gives no fucks to the injury that his wife caused during the birth.]

We're thinking Noah's a pretty good name. Something cute that he won't be embarrassed about when he's older, right?


Noah Wolfwood. It's not a bad name.

[It's kind of surreal, actually, having someone else with your name. Not just a marriage, but an actual honest-to-god chunk of lineage. Now this little triforce is complete.]

Anyone got particular baby advice they wanna hand down? I'm sure Milly'd appreciate it, and frankly, I haven't helped with a newborn in.... well, a hell of a long time. I'm all ears.

[Orphanage, he misses you. There was maybe one occassion they'd dealt with a newborn, but the others who helped run it were a little more skilled at it than he was so he let them swoon and take care of her.

In retrospect, maybe that would have been good practice for him. AW WELL.

People're allowed to visit now at least, once Milly's awake and content with company (which she always seems to be). There are also the usual people working the clinic checking in to make sure everything's going well enough. Law gets his props for being on the ball and good at this sorta' thing.]

((ooc: there's a log up here for visiting after the baby's born, but if you want to visit here it's coolio, too! mainly just leavin' it open for you to do whatever your heart wishes. visiting logs will also have milly involved as well!))
notabluesbro: ([Vash] WRESTLED FOR THE LORD)
[When the voices suddenly come on, the entire screen's black--prooobably because someone's ass is crushing the journal. Maybe Wolfwood's. Of course, he's too busy not noticing because-]

Iiii don't think that's right, needle noggin.

What? That's what the instructions say! You're just being stubborn because you got it all wrong...!

[there's the sound of waving paper] Ha, very funny, you being right.

I am right!

It's upside down, you idiot.... Why did I ask for your help again?

[...mumble mumble] There're so many steps...

[grumble grumble] It's a demon crib; it just won't let us build it. She's going to have a baby and we'll be stuck in the front mashing crib legs together--and could you get those damn cats outta' here! They're distracting!

Aww, what? They're just hungry! Maybe if someone fed them like a decent preacherman.

That's not my job! I don't want cats--!

[... Are you two married or something. Milly would wonde--CRACK]


... A-aha. Yeah?

Did you break it.


Oh look, you can see the two of them now! Wolfwood is very sweetly bending Vash's leg at an impossible angle in the middle of a sadly wilted crib that VASH RUINED GODDAMMIT]






[[ooc: ... dual-post. enjoy two idiots.]]

notabluesbro: ([Asleep] HARD DAY AT THE OFFICE)
[Two days after he's tried to murder his best friend, Wolfwood finally feels the after-effects of the drugs in his system fading out. He's been beyond lucid the last 24 hours, but god did he feel the headache of it all after the fact. More importantly, he's been lying around in his bed thinking. Always thinking, this one. First thinking that shit, man, that was close, and then thinking holy shit Milly is pregnant. She's been pretty much attached to his hip since he started coming down from what was in his system, and they've had plenty of hours to talk about everything while he's settled under blankets with her. And of course, he's full of concern and doubt about himself and a lot of things.

It's not that he isn't happy. It's just all a big gray unknown spot in his future and hers that he worries about frequently. And now he worries for... their kid. Their kid. It's like he's in the twilight zone. He doesn't even know how to start. But he's by no means unhappy.

Whatever happens... it happens, he tells himself. That's all there is to it.

Well... first things first. He hasn't seen Vash since their unfortunate encounter on the 29th. So he pulls on his white button-up, skips a shave, and seeks him out. Of course, he feels gross from sleeping too much, but whatever. Moving's the only cure for that shit.]

[Filtered to Anyone Involved with Feb. 29th's Events // 30% Hackable]

Hey... Thanks for the help. Back there. I'm sorry I was so out of it, but you know how it is around here... Full of shitty surprises. I'll have to make it up to you guys sometime.

... [A sorta' half-hearted smile. He's too overwhelmed for complete snark.] Well, maybe not to Sanji. He clearly owed me for bumming my cigarettes.

[Once he finds Vash, he's off for an easy walk to get his blood pumping; he needs more cigarettes, after all. So there's the store to go to, and then he heads to the item shop and smithy to see if he can replace lost ammunition. Yeah, he comes out with a box under each arm. Gotta' keep on top, even if he almost shot people to death the other day. :|

... And yes. Of course you can find him at the bar. Duh. He really really wants a glass of sturdier stuff. But before that, he hobbles goes back to the forest and starts collecting any shells he can find; sue him, he feels bad for wrecking some of the place. It's a workout for sure, but it also gives him something to do while he straightens out his own mind. At the end of the day he's going back home to crash in a warm bed with his gal. This week has sapped the life outta' him, man]

[[ooc: Backtagging is very welcome, just for ref! People involved in the plot don't have to tag immediately, but I just wanted to get it out of the way!]]
notabluesbro: (Default)

[Yeah, nice to see you, too, village; Wolfwood here is just frowning at her return-outfit. 

... Wait.

Yeah, that's right, Nicholas has become a Nichola. Not that she really... knows this, because she's always been a woman. Obviously. She's at least grateful to find they left her a complimentary box of cigarettes for her troubles in the malnosso's camp. At any rate, she's stuck in one of her casual white button-ups, which leaves little to the imagination, chest-wise; typical for her, but —]

Y'know, I'd really love a decent pair of pants right about now; complaint number 1,460 from me, I know, but I can be picky when I wanna' be. Anyone know how long I've been out? [a puff of wispy smoke, followed by cold breath] Wait. Don't tell me.

Journal's pointing out I've been thrown right into the middle of a New Feather cycle...

[a click of the tongue, as she clasps her smoke between her fingers]

Huh. Well, welcome to Luceti, amigos. Hope you enjoy your stay... for whatever that's worth.

[Better start moving, Wolfwood, before your feet go frostbitten. And she should probably... address her absence. But honestly? When you're gone for the umpteenth time thanks to the Malnosso, you start getting even more casual than usual. Is this a good thing? Of course not. But it's a Thing.]

Hope my cross is still in one piece back at the house, anyway? Insurance girls, needle noggin? Amelia? You guys around? Looks like their crappy experiment on me finally wore off.

[She's hardly shy as she journeys back through the forest, into the village. First stop—pants. Need them. Black ones'll always do. Black coat. A decent pair of shoes. She'll be at the clothing department, wandering toward the trigun house, or make her way through the forest. Maybe drop in on the bar once she's got her clothes on for a quick drink to dull the headache that sometimes comes with a return.]

[[ooc: wanted to get this out of the way! replies will come tomorrow, once my icons are set up; replies will be from [personal profile] notabluesgirl  XD]]

notabluesbro: ([Awwww] Beat puppy look goes here.)
Sagittarius (End o' November):
• Being unique just means you don't fit in. 
• RUN! For gods sake, run! 
• Your usually dominant manner is replaced by a coy submissiveness today. Go with it. 
• It will rain tomorrow. Guaranteed.

[Action | Monday]

[The good news: he foresaw misery for his week. But then, it really doesn't prepare you for the shit that happens anyway. `_`

Case in point: You can find him running. And he can't stop. He will not stop. If he talks to you? He'll be jogging in place, because he cannot even control himself thanks to this FUCKING HOROSCOPE. And even worse, the running is 24 hours long. That's right, for all of Monday he is running up a storm. Catch him running to the Trigun house with a brown paper bag (probably booze, come on), or find him smoking outside of the bar (hello I'm running in circles), or you can find him running trying to stop himself. That is, he's holding onto a tree branch for dear life while his legs are still moving.

But it gets worse. So much worse. When he finally can get himself to stop one day later, he wakes up next to Milly with a really bad problem. That is... the coy submissiveness comes rolling in. He can't even fight the damn thing. He hops up naked and drags the blanket over him flustered red. Shit shit shit. Y-you're naked and I'm naked and this is just... eeeeeh.

..... This is going to be a bad day. And the sad thing is? He can't even tell just how bad yet. He sneaks downstairs once this whole affair with Milly is done with his gaze focused to the floor. And. Makes some food. And you know what he does? He pets Kuroneko. Like, in a sort of cautious way, with a worried frown. There, there, you crazy cat.]

[Voice | Tuesday]

S-so... [... He itches his nose.] We're... having a shift. I wouldn't be worried about it; it'll go away in a matter of time. They don't keep 'em running for a whole long time.

[No eye contact with the journal, and the voice is considerably low and polite.]

It'll all blow over, don't sweat it... Right? I think so, anyway...

notabluesbro: ([Smile] oh wut.)
[Upon waking up, Wolfwood figures two things: one, that he was taken by the droids for a short period of time, and two, that checking his journal would be the wisest choice. So he proceeds to flip through the journals and low and behold, he finds exactly what he considered a possibility. With great anguish, he facepalms.]

Raaaah, not again!

[So it goes. He manages enough priestly swagger to get to the kitchen (why did all of his kidnappings end in something akin to a hangover?), makes something to eat, eats it, and then crawls right back into bed for the next three hours. And then he smokes himself a cigarette—maybe two—and goes out in the usual outfit, sans the jacket. It felt good without one. But before that:]


Apologies to anyone I annoyed while I was miniature. It wasn't my intention when I got taken this time, I swear it; these things just seem to really love happening to me. I think I've got everything in memory now—something about... uhhh, a weird shift turning everything upside down? I distinctly remember an annoying, perverted frog hopping around trying to kiss ladies.

I wonder how many people around here've been turned to kids. A raise of hands?

Bar Stuff! Pouring a drink for you guys. )
((OOC: Replies in the morn'! You can find him walk to or at the bar, or at the Trigun house. Sorry for the lateness of this; I lost track of it after my internet was being crazy awful two days back. :|;;))
notabluesbro: (Mini! ○ See me in a crowd)
[Wolfwood had been taken Sunday night, but surprisingly, they didn't keep him for long. Monday afternoon spat him right back out onto normal Luceti grounds. And to what? To being miniature again. Four years ago, Nicholas had ventured Luceti, looking unkept and nervous. Now, he's still unkept, but in a way that seemed to just be a lack of caring—clean now, free of dirt, but still carrying the bruises of struggle. Where they were once from running amuck on the streets of Gunsmoke, they were now marks of success or failure during training.

His hair is always a mess, of course. Who needs brushes. :|

But that's the least of his concerns! He's more occupied with his cross. Yes, that big, hulking cross, you know. The one Wolfwood could carry without any difficulty? Well, Nicholas has his, and he's busy with huff-puffing across the forest with it. It's on his back, but he's not the usual straight, dignified 20-something. No, he's hunched and might as well be relabeled The Little Engine That Could.

... time for a break. He sits under the trees near the lake, careful to keep away from it, and runs a hand across the journal. He remembers this place... though he never thought he'd be back. Four years may seem long, but really, it's hardly any time at all, is it? The 12-year-old opens the book up and looks at the set-up, remembering.

This button, right?]


Oh hey, mini-Wolfwood.

This thing's working, right? Is this really Luceti, or am I just having a weird dream? Feels real enough... but... I didn't—I mean... I didn't remember it. Why didn't I remember anything? [He runs a hand through his hair.] I shoulda' remembered something like this... even just a little, I definitely woulda' remembered.

[... Hm.]

Say, anyone knows if there's a kid here with long blonde hair? Blue eyes? Name was Vash. Did he make it back home, or...?

... Guess I should find a way back.

[And so he goes, with some effort at the 250+ lbs on his back! And he's a little lost, because while he remembers Luceti, he doesn't remember it that well to know his way through a dense forest. If anyone'd like to help him out or run into him, that'd be super duper. Otherwise, when he finally does get back to the village, he's hitting up the bakery after walking around to recollect his bearings and memory. One may find him in said bakery with his crazy-ass cross that's still an entire head taller than him, munching on a plate of sweets.

:|;;; it's so tasty okay

And of course, he'll give the strawhat kitchen a visit. He remembers you, Sanji. Very well. You and your shitty kitchen. Hmm... Challange accepted. He'll consider this task training, too. CAN HE GET PAST ANY OF THE OBSTACLES?! CAN THE FRIDGE BE OPENED WITHOUT DOOM AND DISCORD THIS TIME?!?!]

((ooc: all replies coming from [info]notpunishingyet ))
notabluesbro: ([Confused] You kicked who?)
[Wolfwood was happy to see the ugly scratch on his forehead was gone, and most of the flexibility of his good shoulder had returned to him. The soreness that would have dragged itself along in the days to come have long since passed, but he's far more annoyed at the sling he was forced to wear on his arm. Immobile. Unable to really carry his Punisher around (and that's just one of those weaknesses, on casual days, isn't it?).

Not to mention, with Milly on him about keeping rested and not getting into anymore trouble—just imagine the finger wagging and the never-ending questions about this and that and do you need new bandages?—he can finally wander out without feeling like a kid sneaking out of a window. But what is this? A few... confused, unfamiliar faces?

New Feather Time. Wonderful. Time to find a spot to sit and crack open that journal of his to check in on everyone. Everyone.]

[Voice//Filtered from Legato]

Sounds like we have some new people falling in. Or swimming in. Or climbing down. At least you don't have to worry about getting stuck waist-deep in desert sand here, now that that's all gone; I showed up there, and let's just say it's a doozy trying to get back to village life.

... But showing up in the middle of the ocean would have been pretty bad, too.

[He rubs his chin.]

Ahhh, shit, has it really been over a year?

[One extra year of living. He's pleased to consider it.]

How many people share a year here with me, huh? Felt pretty short.

Anyway, the name's Wolfwood; if you have any questions, I wouldn't mind answering them. Though I suggest the nice little list in the journal about anything and everything. Now that the draft is behind us, we might just have a moment of peace around here for settling down...

[If you want to run into him any other time, go right ahead. He's at the plaza, but he'll also stop by the weapons shop and walk out with a huge box under one arm. Despite the weight and the old wound on that arm, it's pretty effortless. Don't mind the kitten with the donut-shaped mark over its eye following him. That's just Vash's kitten. :|

He's a creeper like his mother. Can't shake him off.]

((ooc: if you signed up for a kitten (or want one, since there are still a few untaken), there will be an ooc post and an ic post by milly-mun about picking them up from the house! They're all ready to go.))
notabluesbro: ([Surprise] What's your name again?)
[It's been a fairly normal time in the Trigun apartmenthold. They were planning on moving soon thanks to Vash scouting out a new abode from Sanji, and then they had a new lady in the group, to boot. That meant until the move, Vash was probably on a spare matress in his room. Siiigh. So much for keeping a room to himself, he pines as he opens his closet door; how is he and Milly supposed to—


Oh. A familiar noise. Wolfwood looks down at the floor of his closet, stares... stares... and then...

quietly shuts the door.]

Holy shit.


Say. Just wondering, how many kittens should a cat have? Because I think we overstepped the normal count. Yeah, needlenoggin: when I said we needed her spaded? This is a pretty good reason why.

[Is that the sound of kittens in the background? Perhaps.]

Damn, and I really liked that jacket, too.

[Don't mind him, household, he's just got his torso half-in the closet like a goober, monitoring the situation for these youngins. Not that he cares, or anything. They don't even have their eyes open yet, but at least they're all in good shape... :|a]

((ooc: replies in the morn'. Err. Later morn'. 8|))
notabluesbro: ([Curious] Ohohoho is that so?)
[Wolfwood's annoyed. Vash was snatched up just as things were getting calm, so to appease his gnawing aggravation over needle noggin's surprise vacation, he took to the lake more often; shockingly, he was getting pretty good at it, and as the days wore on, he was clearing more distance without stopping for a breather. Not to mention, staying stationary in Luceti meant losing muscle mass, and he had no room for losing the ability to tote that heavy son-of-a-bitch gun.

Of course, that talk with Sanji a few days back had him thinking. Always thinking, this one. He sits under a tree by the lake, still wet from the swim, with pen in hand. The question really takes him back. Reminds him of Vash and the girls, and of himself.]


Hey, a question—how many of you were nomadic? Traveled from place to place, not really labeling one single town or house as a home?


And what d'you think of being stuck in one place?

[Afterwards, he starts back home after practicing Fire and his just recently sought-after wind magic (he spends a great deal of his time dealing with the spirits, now, because getting better and stronger was important; protecting people was important). Catch him on the way back if you want, or out training in the fields, or prior, at the lake. Whatever floats your boat.]
notabluesbro: ([Headpalm] Urgh... you idiot...)
Ow, ow, ow, ow!!!

[This morning is starting off excellently, Wolfwood. Just peachy.

Ugh, what a headache. What a bodyache. They didn't have to be so rude about kidnapping him. Once the drugs have started to wear off and he can walk in a straight line, he'll retrieve the journal slung open against a tree and speak up into it, now that he notes it's recording anyway. Whelp, at least the journal was trying to offer an act of kindness. Even if it did squat... Nah, right now he was too worried about a.) Amelia's problems with Legato, b.) Vash being a dumbass while sick, and most of all, c.) how Milly's doing.]


Looks like I'm back. How long did they have me this time? [He makes a fist and presses his back grumpily; they also managed to give him back his clothes. How sweet.] And I think I actually got it good this time; no problems as far as I can tell...


Did I miss anything? Please tell me it was at least peaceful around here.

[Because we don't all have to come out of this annoyed, right?]


[You can catch him fully clothed and walking through or out of the forest. Maybe he'll stop by the restaurant or the bar. Gotta refuel myself, ya' know. Little does Wolfwood know, he's actually effected by his shitty luck mallynap: he can't answer any question untruthfully. Won't this be just good fun for a certain spikey-headed bastard. Otherwise, he's doing just peachy. B|]
notabluesbro: ([Bye])
[Fine, he tells himself—he might as well check out the journal; while he's normally on top of things (you never know what crazy shit's gonna go down), he's been pretty laid back, he'll admit. It's been calm, despite the last event. He's managed to just relax and take it as a small vacation, or some sort of half-assed blessing. Yeah, he'll go with that.

And now, to pester the new people.]


Welcome to Luceti, all you new people out there—do I have some samurai out there? Gunslingers? How about the ever-popular pirate? I swear, I've never seen so many in one place before. [Granted he'd never seen a pirate in his life prior to Luceti, but eeeeh, whatever.] I'm starting to notice this place has just about every type of person around. Well, except for people the size of mountains. I imagine it wouldn't be very comfortable being around this rough terrain, actually.

[a thoughtful hum] I imagine some of you are from the usual interesting places... space? The desert? Worlds full of dragons or monsters or swords that're way too big to be lugging around?

[and a beat]

And don't forget to speak to your local spirit, around here. Just avoid the fire one—he's a real bastard.


[So it goes, things feel a little more normal again. He prefers it; the days where his cross sits unused in the corner of his room are pleasant ones, to say the least. Granted, poor Amelia's stuck in there house now thanks to the hideous hand she'd been dealt in the last shift. He makes sure to check in with her in the apartment to see if she's settling well enough, before giving himself a breather outside on the path with cross in hand. As much as he enjoys the whole 'not using it' thing, he's gotta keep himself sharp.

You never know, right?

By the time he's done at the battle dome, chipping away at the usual horde of 50 or so moving targets that totally look like bandits, he's ready to get on home and hit the hay. Uneventful, for the most part. It's one of those times where the clock seems to be at 7 in the morn' one moment and then 11:30 at night the next.

He slips into his room after dinner, and smokes on a cigarette as he gets ready to end one day and start the next.]
notabluesbro: ([Shock] whatthefuck...)
[For the past two nights, Wolfwood'd been dreaming some pretty odd things. The first night consisted of... giant robot spiders... and—Vash, what the hell are you doing in his dreams? And why are we storming a place full of bandits? And his sister, he dreamed of her as well... He's never had such vivid images pass his vision before. Not just vivid, but so unusual. And then 'memories' he when he was a child...

No. No... Why would he ever dream of something like this?

The second night consisted of a lot of disjointed 'dreams', too, but the worst one—the worst one—woke him out of a dead sleep and kept him awake for most of the night; he took a calm, quiet walk around his apartments to calm him down, but what met his eyes wasn't entirely calming. A creature. He was sure of it. The outline was inhuman, and its eyes.... For a moment he was frozen in surprise, and then sequentially frozen in panic. But it just stared blankly for another moment and ran off into the dark.

He remained awake to keep an eye out. If there really was something unnatural in the forest, he wanted to make sure it didn't try anything stupid, even if he couldn't do much about it. As the morning sun hits Luceti, he runs a handful of hair through his fingers and decides he should bring it up. After all, everyone else seemed to be having dreams. He was curious, for their sake and his.]


Has anyone... seen anything in the forest? A creature. I think I ran into something in the night that definitely isn't a regular around here...

[a beat, and then, lots of questions for lots of people]

[Filtered to the family (aka anyone he would check in on)]

Hey you guys, are you all doing all right? Having any weird dreams lately, like the others?

[Voice//Filtered to Vash]

Hey, needle noggin. Can I speak with you for a sec?

[Voice//Filtered to Amelia]

... Amelia. This is Wolfwood. Can you spare me a little of your time, if you wouldn't mind?

[After he makes those calls, he returns to the church for post-festival cleaning up... and sighs, tired. Something just felt wrong—and he worried for what it all meant. Shifts in Luceti are usually aggravating yes, sometimes a hurtful pain, but... for it to enter dreams, it was a first for him. As he cleans everything up to the way it was, he thinks about all the images that burrowed into his mind. No, he's had a good family, and a relatively peaceful life. What's with that cross—??

Once again he goes outside for a cigarette, but he sits on the church steps with his elbows at his knees and his gaze downcast. Deep in his own thoughts. Same old Nicholas. Must've got it from his father...]

((ooc: Wolfwood quota all filled up @_@; Ian, Sayo, and Elicia might be posting to the log for dream/beasty-related stuff))
notabluesbro: ([Smile] Gun and Glasses BB)

[Well, it's at least relatively calm despite that shitty shift earlier. Which means he can go right back to helping with decorating the Great One Church for the festivities. If you guys wanna stop in and wish to the altar for the usual Great One blessings (there's always that fesitval traffic flood, around this time, man), come on in! Father Wolfwood'll be around to say hi. Or be in the front smoking after a few hours. E-eheh, there's no law against smoking priests, right?

And afterward, he will stop by family houses to make sure everyone's all settled. After all, people had a lot of stuff moved around lately, right? So expect an annoying preacherman to be on your doorstep; does he make himself at home? Pffft, if you're a brother or father, of course. Otherwise, he'll ask politely. Isn't he charming? B)

Then. He takes a nap at the lake. Because it's pretty nice weather out here, huh? And as he rests, dreams make his mind rest elsewhere—dreams of his wife, of course. It's hard to forget what those bastards did; when that 'third party' killed her in cold blood, and then almost killed him as well... The scars across his torso are proof enough. He can't thank the Malnosso enough... It's especially hard, when the festival rolls around. It was Rem's favorite time of the year. All that celebrating really got her happy. Hard to say whether or not he should be fondly cheerful, or depressed that she's really gone.

... Whelp, he wants to avoid worrying Milly over his own thoughts, so he'll try to stay quiet about it.]


Anyone have a memory about the last festivals that they're fond of more than others?

[Filtered//Written to Milly]

How would you feel about dinner tonight?

[[ooc: So Wolfwood's a widow in his AU—Rem (yup, the one from Trigun |D) is his AU dead waifu, and Milly's the gal who's helping to heal his broken heart, poor fella. Aaand in one particular fight Rem was killed and Wolfwood was almost killed, so he's a little bitter about his inability to protect her. Wolfwood'll be busy with another post later on in the event, but have at him here, too, while he's in a decent mood. 3:^)]]
notabluesbro: ([Surprise] Ahaha... my bad...)
[March 31st, 2011. Thursday, 3:00 PM.

He thought maybe the Malnosso'd let him off the hook. Because they do do that sometimes, right? But no, no. They decided that just wouldn't be a very viable option for Wolfie here. While he's lazily walking around the grocery with a basket in arm, he reaches for something on the shelf and finds—to his horror, dear lord no—his hand passes right through the shelf. Not a moment later, the basket slips right through his paling arm and clatters loudly to the ground, sending a few jars to splatter out in glass shrapnel.

Basically, his mind consists of JFDLGKJDFLGDFG;F;GDFG;DF;GFGKFD, and so on.

... Fantastic. Fantastic. Their humor cannot be any worse. This is fuckin' diabolical.

He hovers in a frenzy out the door, transparent—so much so that his legs from the thigh down aren't visible at all.

This... is going to be difficult to handle. He really doesn't want to go home and freak anyone out, so... he'll just, uh. Hover into the outskirts of the  forest and wait for the experiment to end. He'll just say he was kidnapped. Yeah! They came along and droid-nabbed him. This ghost will just be circling one spot in the forest, looking deep in though. Funnily enough, he feels less depressed about this than he should be. Meh.


... I wish I could drink something strong right about now.

[You can catch him in the grocery store, hovering with haste out of the village, or hanging around the forest in the day (or night). :|b

But eventually, he does decide to hover back to the apartments. And he'll just... float through the front door, after floating through the apartment and up the stairs. Helloooo, anyone home? >_>]

... Needle Noggin? Meryl? Milly? Anyone here?

((ooc: Icons aren't changing. |D Imagine a gray-ish transparent Wolfwood and you'll do mighty well. also WHOOP EDITS 1,000 TIMES.))
notabluesbro: ([Smile] Why yes--it is a heavy cross.)
 [Aaaall right, so it's been pretty eventful lately. With Amelia and Milly popping up, like most people, out of nowhere, Wolfwood's busied himself with being shell-shocked at the latter and humored at the former (it really is all true, Amelia, promise). With Knives and Legato still MIA (perhaps they'd left entirely? but he's not one to hope on that), not to mention, he's found himself just a little more relaxed than usual. And hey, the injury on his arm is just about healed up, to boot. Nothing much but a few stitches that were about ready to be removed. Of course he knew it was only a matter of time before something crazy happens again buuut... he'll take it one step at a time.

Firstly, he stops by the weapons shop to see if any ammo came in for his guns, because you can never have enough lengths of bullets for your machine-gun-cross. He also goes off to the forest to practice his fire in the forest, because he honestly hadn't done so in quite a while and heard the damn fire spirit's nagging voice every time he passed by the usual spot.]

Insult me all you want, it isn't going to get this fire any taller. Hell, I'll probably just make it smaller to bug you.

[And suddenly, a coat sleeve on fire. Whoop.]

Geez, geez, it was a joke! [patting it out, and then a beat] Fiery little bastard.

[He's been focused on just this one element for a while now, and the progress is felt in the explosion of fire he's able to make. When he was a kid, it was just a little fire at the end of a stick, but now--he's at least able to create fire as tall as he is.

And after that he'll go ahead and stop by the bar for a drink--even at Sanji's bar, maybe, despite the fact that curlybrow was going to give him A Look over the recent developments. It's overcast with murky clouds, but that hardly puts a damper on anything; Wolfwood rather likes the cool, muted look, himself. He also sights a little something at the item shop while he's out.]

So, Luceti. I've told a ton of people about my crappy little desert planet, but I'm curious--what's the landscape of your worlds like? The weather? Anything that you miss from it, or anything that you're glad you're not dealing with? It's been biting at me lately to ask.
By the way, welcome, new people. The name's Wolfwood, and I hope you have a fairly uneventful stay here--though, 'hope' is a very key word. But if there's anything you guys need, there's plenty of help around, myself included.
[after a beat--]
[Filtered to Milly]
Heeey, I think I found something of yours at the item shop.
[a big, violent gun-related thing. :|a]


notabluesbro: (Default)
Nicholas D. Wolfwood

November 2012

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