37th Confession [Written/Accidental Voice a While Later]

[notabluesbro]

[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.]

[Written]

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.

Just....

[... 

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

Comments

voice;

[fourteen]

[ ... softly ] I've never seen a baby before. It's cute. [ Xion don't call the baby "it." ]

voice;

[notabluesbro]

[It's a long while before he finally replies, and a lot of the confusion at the voice being so informal throws him off; he doesn't even feel that embarrassed at the surprise Feelings Show he'd had.]

He. Noah. [... Xion, you okay?] You don't remember him?

[You're Sanji's kid, you've seen this baby plenty. What's up?

The baby just makes a short, interested sound at the journal when he sees it.]

voice;

[fourteen]

[ ... ah. She looks dismayed. ]

... I guess I knew you before. I'm sorry. I don't remember anything. I think I left and came back.. I'm not really sure.

written;

[lorentzian]

Shooting lessons? [ A pause. ] I might be interested in that.

written;

[notabluesbro]

That's right, shooting lessons. Can't ever be too prepared, right? Especially since drafts are always possible and we could get dangerous visitors from time to time.

It pays to be ready.

written;

[lorentzian]

You know what? Count me in. When can we start?

[ I wonder if the guys would kill me. ]

akshun

[stungunning]

[Well, Milly's been doing the laundry while Wolfwood's been watching the baby and she's just carrying some up to Amelia's room when she catches her hubby cooing at him. That's nice, she thinks as she hurries upstairs, and then she makes it back past the door to catch the tail end of what the journal picked up.

Oh.

The baby's in Wolfwood's arms, and the bigger Wolfwood has that awful, sad look in his eye that she remembers all too well.

For a moment she stands by the door, unnoticed by her family, and watches.]

[notabluesbro]

[He doesn't notice her at first; it's incredibly odd for him, something he's barely used to—but for Milly and his family, he's often found his guard lowering... it's a bad thing. He shouldn't let it affect him like that, because he has people to protect. Instead, he just holds Noah close.]

It'll be tough. I know that... But no one in this house'll hit you. Treat you like shit. You'll be secure here. You'll be good. I know you'll be the best kid...

[He wonders how they're doing... All those kids at the orphanage.

Will they turn out... okay? In that place? He can only pray.]

[stungunning]

[Milly is rooted to the spot, listening to him talk to their son like that. He's been prone to bouts of thoughtful silence for as long as she's known him, and now to see him like this again...

She feels wrong for eavesdropping, so instead she comes quietly into the room and wraps her arms around his waist from behind, tugging him and the baby against her chest and holding them both.]

Of course he'll be a good boy, he's surrounded by people who love him, and so are you.

[Case in point, she will kiss his jaw to prove it.]

/nothing at first, then written

[all7seas]

[Jack will slowly close his journal after that feed cuts off. This was almost too much to bear, especially after the events of the last draft. His mother's eyes; all that protectiveness. Jack felt that way for Joyce, too.

Eventually, he opens his journal again:]

Wouldn't so bad if he came out something like you, Wolfwood. You're not a bad sort.

written

[notabluesbro]

Yeah, well. Appreciate the vote of confidence.

Would prefer his mother give him most of her good genes, though.

written

[all7seas]

Surely she did! No worries, now. You go on fathering the little bundle-like thing. All will be well!!!!

written;

[bluemikan]

[ She can do the bare basics, but this sounds like an offer for something more. ]

I'd be interested in lessons. I haven't used a gun in ages.

written;

[notabluesbro]

Ages is a pretty long time. But hey, even knowing a little goes a long way. I won't have to give you the whole 'don't point it at anything you don't plan to shoot' blah blah blah dialogue, right?

written;

[bluemikan]

[ for the past eight years having weapons had been a killing offense, so... ]

Yeah, I've had that dialogue before. [ Bellemere. ]

[goldenglasses]

[Can you feel that shifting in the air Wolfwood? That sense of spiky doom. Somewhere near the vicinity of your head? Above your head in fact.]

[notabluesbro]

[Sudden urge to protect offspring.

Sudden urge to kick something stupid in the head.

So why is it so easy for him to roll back, nestle Noah protectively, and kick this sudden blur of a person into the wall? Just like it's easy to aim his gun with Noah being rocked in his arms, crying in annoyance at the sudden rocking and thud.

WHO GOES THERE]

[goldenglasses]

[Who goes there is a twitching, gurgling, half dressed gunman. Vash makes no move to get up right away. It's a bit jarring to suddenly come into being to find yourself in free fall, only to be kicked brutally into a wall only moments after that.]


oo-OW!

[voice]

[generalflirt]

Oi, boss. I'll take you up on that lesson.

[voice]

[notabluesbro]

That so? Well, good.

[... Aren't you the kid that wanders around flirting with girls? Two years here and he totally keeps track. Sorta'. Kinda'. He really needs to pay more attention to his fellow villagers.]

What d'you know about guns, first-off?

[voice]

[generalflirt]

That you shoot people with them and you kill then. [Or hurt them or whatever. He says this lightly, deftly.] It's not that they don't exist in the world I came from, just that they're a biiit anathema.

[voice]

[250mhzwabl]

[Jack doesn't listen to the entirety of the second transmission. At least, he doesn't on the first go around. There's something uncomfortably intimate about the unintentional recording, something that's not meant for him and twists up in him in a way he doesn't have a word for.

Besides, he has enough to think about with that offer - and with the response he considers and re-considers before returning the transmission.]

I'm interested. And . . . strange request, probably, but I'd like to stay around as long as there's shooting happening.

[voice]

[notabluesbro]

Sure. Any reason why you wanna stick around for that long? Other than visual reference, I guess.

[Voice]

[voidseeing]

What type of gun?

[He's got a reason of his own for asking.]

[Voice]

[notabluesbro]

[... Voice, is it? He can roll with this.]

Depends on what you're looking for, what you're planning to shoot. I know enough about most guns, as long as they're not magically driven or something out of my world I'd be particularly unfamiliar with.