Nicholas D. Wolfwood (
notabluesbro) wrote2011-01-12 01:11 pm
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15th Confession [Action/Emo]
[Well, things were better. Meryl was back, after all, and he was relieved to know it.
But... Wolfwood always has been a thinker. And since the incident with Legato and Kaori, he's unable to find solace in much. Did he really do what was right? He—he tried what he could to do what Vash tried to force into his head: tried to find the route where no one died. But in order to do that, he had to become some sort of shitty dog in Legato's shadow. He knew the son-of-a-bitch hoped for it, planned for it, loved every second of tugging that leash.
He's avoided any real talking with anyone, really. Stayed in the apartment, avoided any real contact with Vash, did the usual Wolfwood trait of solitude: shutting yourself away from people when you have a thought that won't let you go. He'll bounce back from it, he surmises. Things will clear up for him later. He has to force himself to think that, in the end, it won't impact him. But still...
"Tell Legato that Rem was wrong—tell him that there is no worth in people, or in the illusion of peace."
"... whether that's true or not, you're worth something right now, okay? You don't ... You don't have to be useful by some guy's definition to be important."]
[Wolfwood's out and about today, albeit the shade around him suggests he's not much for enjoying the day, whether he means to look that way or not. Right now, he's frustrated with himself. And it shows. He decides to spend a few hours at the battle dome—takes his pent-up aggravations out on imaginary evils. He's not going to bother masking his weapon from anyone, because really? It's almost starting to feel like his trying to hide that part of him from this place. Every shot is precise and deadly. Mechanical and automatic. All what he learned, years ago, all denying the basic fundamentals of Vash's way of life. But he feels it, in his fingertips. He hesitates so minutely that he KNOWS he's doing it, regardless of how smooth his motions are.
...Dammit all.
Then he goes by the clinic, to see if Kaori's still there. She should be, he's thinking. But if she's not, then maybe that's even better. Maybe it means she was healed up and isn't miserable. And then, after that... after that nervous bit of deciding to check on her. He's going to a bar—hell, any would do—and when he does, he opens his journal and looks over that entry he'd been avoiding since he came back.
"How d'you prove you're worth something?"]
...Ha, you little moron.
[When he decides to finally return home, he's decidedly drunk, but like he hasn't done that in his lifetime. He's just more graceful than Vash—
ACK, my knee, that was a coffee table—
Maybe not so much.]
((Replies in a bit!))
But... Wolfwood always has been a thinker. And since the incident with Legato and Kaori, he's unable to find solace in much. Did he really do what was right? He—he tried what he could to do what Vash tried to force into his head: tried to find the route where no one died. But in order to do that, he had to become some sort of shitty dog in Legato's shadow. He knew the son-of-a-bitch hoped for it, planned for it, loved every second of tugging that leash.
He's avoided any real talking with anyone, really. Stayed in the apartment, avoided any real contact with Vash, did the usual Wolfwood trait of solitude: shutting yourself away from people when you have a thought that won't let you go. He'll bounce back from it, he surmises. Things will clear up for him later. He has to force himself to think that, in the end, it won't impact him. But still...
"Tell Legato that Rem was wrong—tell him that there is no worth in people, or in the illusion of peace."
"... whether that's true or not, you're worth something right now, okay? You don't ... You don't have to be useful by some guy's definition to be important."]
[Wolfwood's out and about today, albeit the shade around him suggests he's not much for enjoying the day, whether he means to look that way or not. Right now, he's frustrated with himself. And it shows. He decides to spend a few hours at the battle dome—takes his pent-up aggravations out on imaginary evils. He's not going to bother masking his weapon from anyone, because really? It's almost starting to feel like his trying to hide that part of him from this place. Every shot is precise and deadly. Mechanical and automatic. All what he learned, years ago, all denying the basic fundamentals of Vash's way of life. But he feels it, in his fingertips. He hesitates so minutely that he KNOWS he's doing it, regardless of how smooth his motions are.
...Dammit all.
Then he goes by the clinic, to see if Kaori's still there. She should be, he's thinking. But if she's not, then maybe that's even better. Maybe it means she was healed up and isn't miserable. And then, after that... after that nervous bit of deciding to check on her. He's going to a bar—hell, any would do—and when he does, he opens his journal and looks over that entry he'd been avoiding since he came back.
"How d'you prove you're worth something?"]
...Ha, you little moron.
[When he decides to finally return home, he's decidedly drunk, but like he hasn't done that in his lifetime. He's just more graceful than Vash—
ACK, my knee, that was a coffee table—
Maybe not so much.]
((Replies in a bit!))
[Action]
Except for the fact that he's quiet. No loud, obnoxious hello, he just calmly and quietly orders his drink for now.]
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[Action] Darn! I thought I had an icon of them clinking glasses in the manga b4 Wolfwood's death!
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So sorry if she's noticeably jumpy, the girl is still paranoid about her current situation.]
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[ actiony placeholderish ]
By night, she's not doing so well. Unwilling to lay awake at night, she's taken to extending her practice sessions, to the point of working herself to exhaustion before stumbling home. It's now past ten o'clock at night, and it doesn't look like she's showing any sign of stopping. There are crumbled rocks all around her, the ground is nearly swept free of snow - if soaked, and she is in the process of brutally slamming a dozen foot-long ice spikes into the rock that remains.]
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