Legato |
-----DISCLAIMER----- General Disclaimers Apply.
-----AUTHOR'S NOTES----- Lynda: Heya bebe! Kuroneko: ... Mya?! =^O_o^= Lynda: Waaaa... Lotsa feed back for the last chapter! I guess you were
waiting a long time for it, eh? ^^;; Big 'Author's Notes' here, coz I'm not going to have much after. Hopefully this will explain much of what I rant on about in this story. While (god willing and please o please) staying within character. Well... Here we go!... ... ... This is going to be HUGE.
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It sat between them, looming despite it's size, menacing despite it's
appearance. It had come with this morning's paper, discarded by the
Living who couldn't see it, found and evaluated by the Angels who didn't
like what they saw. In the dawn quiet, the small apartment designed
for Meryl Stryfe and Milly Thompson was oddly mellow and morbid, no
sounds of breakfast being made, no panicking and late Insurance Workers,
no carefree and easy going Angels. 'It's a trap.' Wolfwood noted. He glared down at it harshy, accusing it of everything that was transpiring. 'I know.' Vash replied, equally stoic. 'But you're going to go anyway, aren't you?' 'Does it look like I have a choice?' 'Yeah... We can ignore it.' 'That's just plain stupid.' 'Hey, it was worth a shot suggesting. Maybe you'd think twice before waltzing into your own slaughter.' There was a pause. Both pairs of eyes returned to the object laid on the table. A broken and bent piece of scrap metal which was all that was left of Sylvia the Saxophone lay mangled before them, a short and very to-the-point message scored deeply into the once shiny surface. More specifically, an invitation to a meeting. For Vash the Stampede from Legato Bluesummers. There was, judging by the expressive tortured saxophone, no room for dispute. 'I have to go.' Vash said firmly, true to the message and it's implications. 'Run from him this time and it never ends. I've tried it before; it didn't work.' 'I just don't like it, Tongari. Meeting Legato under his own terms is like suicide. And you strongly dissaprove of suicide, remember?' Wolfwood muttered in mild vehemence. He glanced up. 'You worried?' Vash asked, grinning from ear to ear. 'Like hell I am! I just don't want to baby sit your Guard again!' the priest snapped. 'If you'd like to recall how well that worked the last time?!' That silenced them both. And, in unison like obscure mannequins, two heads turned to the tea drinking pair of Living. Both were muted and slow, both seemingly burdened by the morbid ambience that had seeped into the apartment with the morning light and paper. Both trying hard not to initiate a conversation that might prod at a subject better left alone. 'So much for being artful and skilled. I can't believe you let them see me.' Vash muttered, finding, despite common sense, that he was kind of glad it happened. On a darker side, however, it was mildly painful when his Guard's gaze swept around, over and through him. Locked virtually everywhere but at his own eyes. Invisibility had never been so depressing. 'I was detained at the door.' Wolfwood replied. 'What's that supposed to mean?' 'Nothing to you.' the priest said simply, finally. He then levelled a very heavy gaze on his companion. 'So here's the deal. Legato's just demanded you show up at a dust bowl of a dune about 30 iles from the outskirts of town. That's about 40 iles from your mentor, his Guard and your Guard. So if you stuff up royally, which is highly likely, no one's gonna be there to drag your sorry butt back to safety.' 'Who said I was going to stuff up?' Vash demanded in affront. Wolfwood gazed back steadily. After a healthy period of silence, he continued. 'And even if you don't die a horrible and painful second death, this guy is in league with who knows how many Demons and your psychopathic brother. Do you honestly think that they wouldn't have everything you do planned and accounted for?' 'I know.' Vash replied quietly, his eyes falling down to bent and mangled
Sylvia. 'But if I don't go, people are going to die. No, probably worse
than that. Who knows what these Vault things actually do? And you don't
know Knives. You don't know what he's capable of.' 'Are you alright, Sempai?' Milly called out worriedly, looking up from her breakfast. Without turning, the shorter replied, 'Fine. I'm fine. I'm... Just going to get some work together and then I'll be ready.' This, apparently, wasn't a satisfying answer. 'Are you still upset about what happened at the Average's?' the brunette asked innocently. There was the tiniest hint of tension drawing across her brow and knitting it inwards. Meryl promptly froze at the hallway door, one hand on the frame and the other contracting into a fist slightly. 'Milly, what have I said about that?' she asked firmly, again without facing her partner. Milly's lips parted in a futile gesture of communication, but she gave up the endeavor and instead dropped her gaze down at her tea. 'I'll be out in a minute.' Meryl said simply, then continued down the hallway. Two Guardian Angels watched her go. Then exchanged a glance. 'There's gotta be another solution.' Wolfwood muttered. 'Well, I can't think of it.' Vash replied, eyes slipping back to the hallway and lingering. 'You... You just have to wait here with the Insurance Girls.' 'Like hell I will.' Wolfwood snarled. 'The Small Girl is your responsibility. Going off to save the world is not an excuse to shirk that onto me!' 'We can't both go!' Vash retorted stubbornly. 'Then don't! You're pushing your luck too far. It can get you out of only so many situations, y'know.' 'Geez, your so gloomy! Have a little faith in me, would you?' the blonde Winger whined, chin retreating down to tabletop level in a strange form of submission. Wolfwood eyed him, eyebrow raised, tendrils of smoke snaking through the air from the limp cigerette balancing precariously from his lips. Finally, with a huge breath of air and fumes alike, the Winger groaned in resignation. 'Fine. I'll watch her. But you better come back, dammit, or so help me, I'll hunt you down and kill you myself.' he acknowledged, grimacing. Vash let out a slow, shaky breath and straightened. 'Thanks, Wolfwood.' he mumbled gratefully. 'Don't thank me. It's like you said, we ain't got any other choices.'
the black haired Angel muttered in reply. He fell in a chair by the
table, all the while glaring at Sylvia heatedly. The conversation, apparently,
was over. Vash lingered by his partner slightly before sighing and moving
away. With one last glance into the gloomy and dark kitchen, taking in the
slightly oppressed distance in Milly's eyes and the brooding hunch Wolfwood's
shoulders had adopted, Vash made his way to his Guard's room. He slipped
through the door distractedly, mind elsewhere, hands buried under the
tails of his long coat and eyes lowered. He hated leaving on such terms.
But he had to. With a heavy and burdened sigh, the 60 Billion Double Dollar Man looked
up, steeling himself to rattle off a hasty goodbye to unhearing ears.
But Meryl, instead of sorting through paper work like she'd suggested,
was sitting on her bed, eyes out the window, focus even further. She
took a huge breath. The words travelling to his lips died, falling unbirthed in his throat
and dropping to his stomach as a dead and leaden weight. Talking to
her was ridiculous. She couldn't hear him, see him, glare at his lies
or berate him for his irresponsibility. The things Vash had been intending
to say were worthless falsities designed in the guise of confidence
he didn't have, and indifference he certainly didn't feel. Vash lowered his gaze sorrowfully and turned to leave. A throat was cleared. Meryl stood and her focus drifted back to a more visual plane. She
walked over to the door, opened it, glanced guiltily down both ends
of the hallway, then closed it and retreated back to the foot of the
bed. Vash watched her suspisciously. 'I'm making such a fool of myself...' she muttered under her breath. But, regardless, she raised her voice and snapped, 'Are you there or not?' One Winger near died of shock. A highly irritated Insurance Worker plunged on. 'I have no idea what you are exactly, but it has become increasingly apparent that you going to persist in following me around. My partner seems to think you're an Angel, but she's easily misled.' she said simply, eyes remaining very and inexorably shut. 'Well, whatever you are, I bet it was you that's been causing all that trouble these past couple of months. I hope you feel guilty about the hell you put us through.' Vash the Stampede was fumbling for coherency in thought, speech and actions. He wasn't suceeding. He was clinging to every word like a starving child, shock slackening his jaw. 'I suppose that was your intention, was it? Sending an innocent woman insane by putting ridiculous thoughts in her head?' Meryl continued, seemingly irked at her own idiocy, 'I've had dreams ever since the Millions escapade. I thought I was losing my mind, seeing this strange person in my mind.' Meryl took a huge breath. Her shoulders lowered from their hunch and her frown loosened as the expression dominating her features softened. 'You weren't there that day at the Medium's.' she noted ruefully. 'I felt like an idiot constantly looking over my shoulder. It was... barren.' She winced and smiled weakly. 'And don't ask me how, but... I know you're leaving now.' As simple as that, was it? She stood there, head lowered, eyes shut.
It was obvious she didn't need or expect an answer. Vash finally remembered how to move again and used his recovered knowledge
to step forward. One boot after another until he had navigated himself
into the proximity of the small woman against the bed stead. Not for
the first time, he wondered why. Why he was utterly cut off from the
one person who might need contact most; even on those fundemental levels
others took for granted. Speech, vision. They didn't even give him that. Concentrating to the point of blindness, two hands, gloved and apparently
his, reached forward. She was right there. Planes or no, Living or not,
in the tapestry of existence, this was the place that they were. Meryl jumped initially. The arms crossed at her chest suddenly tightened
into a rib constricted self embrace. Then she let out a short and incredulous
laugh. Which died quickly as a confused frown tugged on her brow. Time passed, thoughts flitting through fuzzy minds, lungs demanding slightly more oxygen than was necessary. And Vash suddenly remembered that he was supposed to leave. To go to, in Wolfwood's opinion, his probable demise. He simply didn't want to anymore. What flimsy resolve he had gathered was crumbling rapidly... But after the huge and empty silence, Meryl shuddered and rolled her
shoulders as if to dislodge the sensation that continued to linger.
The shrug was as final as the staple in one of her reports; the bell
at the end of the typewriter's measure. It was over. She had handed him a moment of acknowledgement; against common sense, logic and her own chagrin. The slackening in her stance and the relaxation in her eyes indicated that Meryl Stryfe was satisfied with it. Vash wished that he was. A great deal of time later, the Winger managed to pull himself together. He took one last glance around the room before slipping through the apartment wall and out into the December streets, carrying a great deal more of emotional baggage than he had before. And finding that, for the first time in his very long existence, he was struggling with the weight.
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With a thump, Rem slapped a few sheets of paper in front of her Hellish counterpart. 'Where are they going?!' she demanded. Black Jack flitted through the documents, chewing stressfully on the pencil in one hand and clutching a fistful of obsidian hair with the other. 'I-I don't know! We're losing them completely!' he replied heatedly, glaring up at her like a foiled child. 'How the hell is this happening?!' 'If we keep the system running, souls are going to continue to leak and we don't even know what's happening to them! Rem exclaimed, panicking slightly as she began drowning herself in her own paperwork. 'What are you suggesting we do?' Black asked her suddenly, an incredulous expression displaying that he already had a clue. Rem stared back steadily.
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The suns had trekked a good way across the sky. Even more conspicious
in the journey, in fact, because Vash was under their full and merciless
glory. He had to conceed that, yes, indeed, this was a dust bowl. There
was an old and derelict shack a few yarz away, but it was in no condition
to shade against the energy sapping suns. And besides from a strange
and mutated cactus thing to his left, the rest of the scenery consisted
of sand. And heat waves. 'All right, come OUT Legato!!' the blonde shouted angrily, panting as breath was a lot harder to recover from the activity than initially presumed. Typical that nihilistic jerk waited until the blonde Winger's brain was half frazzled by heat stroke before deciding to show. 'A wise decision. I was wondering whether you would decide to join me or not.' Legato noted. His voice was caught on the wind and drifted past the Winger from over his shoulder. Vash turned slowly. Legato gazed back, standing alone and alienated on the sandy earth. 'You didn't give me much choice.' the blonde replied pointedly, inclining his head slightly so the double suns reflected blindingly off the tangerine lenses of his sunglasses. If the retina assaulting flash was painful, Legato didn't show it. He didn't reply either. After the long pause, Vash endeavored to break the stale mate. 'Is there a reason why I'm here? Do we fight?' he asked, turning slightly, the tiny change in angle transforming his neutral position into one of poise. A small smile conquered the corners of the blue haired Winger's lips. 'The reason? It's simple really. By whatever means necessary, I am to convince you. A simple shattering of dillusions should suffice, but if you really insist, we can resort to violence.' Legato replied casually. His eye narrowed in mirth as the smile he wore slunk into a smirk. His face was lowered slightly, further more veiled by his blue hair. Well? he continued mentally, Do you want to draw? Vash glared back but made no move to raise his gun arm. As wind blew over the obscure reunion, the tiniest of chuckles tinted the air and danced across the breeze. 'I didn't think so. I doubt an Angel of your calibre would be interested in a hostile confrontation.' Legato said, smirking. He pondered the statement and managed a short laugh. 'A contradiction, of course. Angels are good for nothing but violence. Rather like Demons... Only with the audacity to hide their sins behind the corrupt mask of Justice.' 'You're not making sense.' Vash retorted heatedly. 'You honestly believe so? You'll find that I'm making perfect sense. If you were to examine the history of Angels, you would find that they are just as destructive as humans themselves. Nothing's changed. We are nothing more than twisted waste product of what's left of a homosapien after death... And given power.' was the reply. 'And what do these vessels of 'purity' and 'holiness' do with this power? Destroy.' Legato continued, raising his left hand, sword hilt gripped tightly in example. 'Th-That's not true.' Vash managed, emotion drawing the thin line of his already grimacing mouth back further. 'From what I've seen, we do nothing but protect!' 'And what do Angels safeguard? Humans? The very bile they were created from. And you will find that all else is abolished for that one pathetic end. What, Vash the Stampede, is holy about that?' 'You can't talk. You're one of us.' Vash gritted. 'This is my cross to bear.' Legato admitted, eerie smile still lingering on his lips. 'And Knives agrees with this?' 'Of course.' 'Even when he has a Guardian Angel of his own?' 'My service to the Master is beyond the stain of Angelic. My power is not wasted on the meaningless fate of one brief and pathetic human.' Legato responded simply, the dull monotone of his voice carrying on the breeze. Vash shifted his weight. 'What you use to help Knives. Your power... It isn't Angel.' he noted, raising an eyebrow. 'I can understand how you could talk into my brother's mind, but how did you let him see us? I knew it had something to do with touching him, because you shoved your arm into... Him and... He...Began... To...' It clicked. Vash jumped, wide eyed, and pointed an accusing finger at the slightly non-plussed Winger opposite before shouting incredulously, 'You Dissilated with him!' Legato blinked, then smiled. 'Yes, I Dissilated with the Master. Unfortunately my own powers couldn't allow him to see this new world of Planes himself. So I had to indulge in that tainted Holy power to achieve it.' he remarked, abhorrence evident on his face. Vash blinked, then promptly gagged. 'You Dissilated with my brother?!' he repeated, looking shocked and a little disgusted. 'That's- You- My brother- Dissilated- That's- That's just wrong!' Legato stared at him steadily in the closest expression to aggitation that the evil Winger was ever going to get to. Vash managed to eventually get over the detestable subject long enough to review the real magnitude of the claim. 'You... Dissilated with him?' he demanded again, this time with more bewilderment. 'Yes.' Legato said sharply, actually looking irked this time. 'But that's an Arch Angel ability.' Vash pointed out. His eyes widened. 'Don't tell me you're a-' Legato laughed. 'Apparently 'Angel' is a rank given to anyone. I am proof of that. I believe it takes a great deal more than your average being to be an Arch Angel... Am I right, Vash the Stampede?' he asked, smiling evilly. 'Then how-' 'I'm afraid given my current devices, the Dissilation was not complete. Far from it, in fact. But, as partial as it was, it was enough to pass on information and control Plane placement of the Master. And of course the after effects of Dissilation help somewhat. It was, after all, only an arm.' In demonstration, Legato hoisted the sword hilt onto his shoulder. And Vash noticed that other than the hand, not any other part of Legato Bluesummers touched the weapon. The white material of his coat flattened slightly from the proximity, but the hilt didn't lower to touch it. It stopped and wavered about 3 inches away. 'But that doesn't explain why you can preform Arch Angel abilities-' Vash began, eyeing the sword nervously. Legato laughed. 'That, I'm afraid, is just it. I am in possession of a small fraction of an Arch Angel.' he disclosed, smile turning into something malevolent. 'This arm, to be exact. Transplanted to me in the space of Neutral Territory, where there are no Planes. Not even the Master knew what doors would open giving me his brother's arm. But then, he didn't know his brother was an Arch Angel.' Legato observed, lowering the appendage so he could gaze at the hand affectionately. Vash was speechless. 'That's-' he croaked. 'Yes. The limb attached to me is your arm, Arch Angel. It is of great use to the Master and myself. Does that help to change your views; the fact that you are ultimately responsible for all that has and will transpire?' Legato asked. 'Then that sword...' Vash managed, eyes dropping to the hilt. 'Is yours, yes. I am unable to touch it, but your hand holds it comfortably. And it was your hand that slaughtered hundreds with this blade.' Legato replied. Vash, his thoughts an unintelligible frenzy, fought desperately to slot things together. He tried touching that sword in November... So that didn't work... Did it? With a start, the blonde realized that it did. He had tried to grasp the hilt with his mechanical arm. So it was true. He was an Arch Angel. 'An Arch Angel, huh?' he asked himself quietly, calmly examining the solidified revelation from all angles. 'I am afraid you are. Which is a bad thing for you, Vash the Stampede.' Legato contributed. 'Heaven doesn't deal well with your kind.' 'What?' 'Haven't you ever wondered why there are none left? Or why Chapel is so set against the idea?' the Winger asked. He smiled. 'No? Then let me enlighten you. There was, originally, one. Much alike yourself. He was awed, idolized, then eventually copied. Everyday Angels were given power like him in an effort to proliferate this breed. Only... Angels are flawed, and too much power on flawed beings is cataclysmic. They eventually outgrew Heaven, they began to question it and began expanding in ways not fit for beings under it's Law. Heaven, of course, slaughtered them. Culled, if you will. The original went missing, and no one knows where he went. But one thing is certain...' At this his smile broadened. 'That your kind are not welcome in this existence.' Vash was speechless. He wanted to doubt it. Desperately. But something deep within him knew it to be true. Legato stepped forward, smirking. 'Didn't you believe me when I said Heaven and Hell are the same? Did you doubt the truth in my words?' he asked loudly, eye widening. Vash backed up. With a dazzling burst of light, the thrumming blade sprung from the
sword hilt, severing air particles and the tip wavering a few inches
from the blonde's nose. Legato stood, basking in it's light for a few
moments. Then lunged with no warning. 'It's no use, Vash the Stampede.' he announced slightly maniacally,
eye wide to the point of inhuman preportions. 'This sword is yours.
Any power you summon to contradict it will only fuel it's energy. This
is the price you and Heaven must pay!' 'Don't you see? Everything Heaven does is tyrannical. These laws, these judgements... For what? A slavery of an existence if you pass their verdict, or damnation if you don't. They killed the Arch Angels because no one could oppose their law. Their authority. They are the whip, the slavers. We are nothing but Demons, no matter what mask we hide behind.' Vash threw his arm forward, already halfway through the unfolding then
fired in the same panicked heartbeat. With a graceful arch in the air,
the sword swatted the bullets to the sand, air wavering with the power.
Legato advanced again. He couldn't beat him. But a life time's experience of escaping trouble with anything but fighting, Vash sorted through his options. In the maelstrom that was his mind, only two things rose to his attention.Wolfwood's voice, loud and clear, 'You just have to trust His judgement. He knows what He's doing...' And a conversation with a Meta-Kard, so long ago. Currently, the only other option for Reneged Duty is Heiloz demotion or Indecent Behavior arrest. Of course. 'It... Doesn't sound like you have much faith in Him.' Vash managed, tattered and broken wings swaying painfully in the breeze. Legato snorted. 'Who? Your pathetic God?' he asked. Vash smiled grimly, waving the metaphorical bait. 'In fact, it sounds like you're denouncing him.' he continued, one hand clutching his shoulder as a substitute for his shattered feathery limbs. 'Denounce?' Legato asked, grinning evilly. 'I denounce your God.' He swung the sword, the blast throwing the Arch Angel backwards to land on what was left of his brittle and snapping wings. Vash cried out. But even in his pain, he didn't miss the streaks of black that were gathering in the shadows. 'I do more than denounce him.' Legato continued, impervious to the
gathering inky silhouettes. 'I damn his existence along with the filth
of imperfect beings that created him.' The blackness puddled at Legato's feet... Then whipped up in thin tendrils that snaked over a suddenly stock still body, roping around limbs and pulling. Legato swallowed his words instantly, freezing in amazement as he begun to sink. The blue haired Winger's eye widened in comprehension and he tore at the bonds, his shouts incoherent. He continued to be pulled downwards. 'Legato?' Vash asked, his eyes finding that of the opposite Angel. Legato managed to gaze back between his thrashing. Vash smiled. 'You're fired.' With one last blood curdling scream, Legato Bluesummers was dragged down into the shadow, the last thing to be seen being Vash's hand, finally letting go of the hilt. The hand was sucked in along with the rest of the evil Winger. The shadow seeped away into the sands as the still thrumming sword arched through the air. It spun in blinding circles, scything through the sky before dipping and plummeting again. It struck the ground blade first, the white glow sinking into the sand where the inky blackness had been. It stuck there, standing upright over the spot. Like an eerie tombstone. Vash stood, shakily, staring at it. Minutes passed. Possibly hours. Then, with a final glance, Vash the Stampede turned away. The sword was left there, pointedly ignored by the Arch Angel as he stumbled away silently in the direction of December.
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Vash rounded the last corner, near groaning in relief as Bernadelli loomed up in front of him. It was a huge and reassuring anchor in the world. Rather like a giant paper weight. But... It was dark. Or, rather, there something depressing and dank lingering over the bright sight. Something empty. There was a crowd at the steps to the building, and Vash slipped through most of them to reach the scene they encompassed. He reached the eye of the storm in a breathless huff, pausing by the edge of the crowd to rest on his knees and catch his elusive breath. Having effectively done so, he glanced up. And met Wolfwood and Milly. The Big Girl was crying. Hysterically; great fat tears rolling continuously down her cheeks as she clutched her own hands together to the point of bone breakage. She seemed unable to speak, but that didn't deter her from burbling away to herself, what seemed like co-workers holding her back. Back from what? In a daze, Vash turned his eyes to the focal point. Meryl, asleep on the ground and looking quite peaceful. Wolfwood, who had been leaning over his Guard with a hopeless expression on his face, glanced up. And met questioning eyes. An expression of utter guilt and grief flooded his features for a brief second, but he smothered it quickly with cool indifference. With one last glance at his Guard, the priest left her and advanced. 'Wolfwood?' Vash asked, smile plastered on his face and looking painful. Aforementioned Winger avoided the smile. Avoided eye contact. 'It was a trap, Vash.' he managed, puffing on his cigerette to the point of hyperventilation. 'What?' 'A trap.' Wolfwoof repeated. 'The girls?' Vash asked immediately, fear gripping his chest again. Pain lanced through the priests eyes like lightening in a storm. '13 Vaults.' he managed. '13. Had to take them on myself. I... Had to look after my Guard AND yours. Y'know. Milly. And the Small Insurance Girl...' 'Vaults...' Vash repeated. Then breathed out in utter relief. Another cursory glance around the scene brought cyan eyes on several empty bundles of clothes. But Milly and Meryl were still whole and unhurt. 'Listen, Vash-' Wolfwood attempted, brow furrowed like some great weight was dragging it down. Vash waved a hand hurriedly. 'It's ok, Wolfwood.' he breathed, smiling. 'You looked after my Guard. As long as she's ok.' Apparently, of all the things the Humanoid Typhoon could've said, this was the worst option. Wolfwood looked as if he had been slapped, then, in some sort of self preservation against guilt and pain, rage consumed. Eyes wide, the priest shouted, 'OK? OK?!? Vash, she's dead!!'
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-----AUTHOR'S NOTES----- Lynda: **slow evil grin** |