Welcome to the Eye of Michael

This is an Independent Role-Play Blog for the Trigun manga-only character, Chapel. Also making appearances is Doctor William Conrad. Both are Post-Series timeline-wise. [Askbox Starters and Memes] M!/Anon is greenlit.

[rhyssedlightning-archived]

[?] Jack in. Jack off. (Accepted)

For the love of God, I hope someone responds soon… 

Although it had only been an hour since Rhys sent that bounty board across the ECHOnet, a mission that didn’t sound too hard on paper. Yet his nerves were skyrocketing, unknowing if anyone would heed his call for help. He paced back and forth across Atlas, biting his thumbnail repeatedly. This was becoming a problem for him – for he could be much more productive, but the thought of the escaped A.I. plagued his mind. 

Why should I even care ? He should be glad that Jack was finally out of his hair. And frankly he would get back years back to his life without him there. But he couldn’t. He’d never admit to it – but the A.I was important to him financially. Unlimited potential was at his fingertips… that and he felt somber for him. All the damages he done,  all that trauma. Not only was he financially invested, there was an emotional aspect to it as well. 

BEEP!

Finally…! 

❝Yes – hello! G-Great, uhm. Y-Yeah, I copy. So I’m assuming you’re here for the uhm… bounty? Name’s Rhys. Where are you at the moment?❞

[nevergreen-chapel-blog]

To be plugged in, not for diagnostic testing, but for boosting power felt...incredibly strange. He was certain he’d get scoded for it it Chapel ever found out (they’d never dared attempt it), but Conrad and sister both had managed a consistent stability for nearly a year. Also, whatever Chapel didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt him. Barring Conrad and sister didn’t suddenly become unstable and oh, say, vaporize the entire hunk of ship they lived in. In any case, it felt much like static sounded: little pinpricks and jolts--nothing painful, but all the same quite different from any other sensation he could name.

Either way, this was contact, REAL contact with the outside! For those who wanted off the planet, it could mean rescue! For those intent on eking out a living, it could mean trade resources! The prospect of both was utterly mindblowing considering their centennial-plus spent in isolation.

“Rhys! Hello!” Now, with an audio link between them, his excitement doubled. “Ah, please excuse my enthusiasm. It’s been some time since someone reached out to--ah,” The locals called it No Man’s Land for it’s desolation, or Gunsmoke--for it’s violence. He wasn’t sure what others would know it as.

He cleared his throat, suddenly a bit sheepish. 

“Well, I’m a bit stranded at the moment. Bit of a case of ‘a funny thing happened on the way to the forum’. But I’m still more than happy to help your case of missing A.I. I’m just, well, lacking a way there. You should be able to track my signal back. We’re a rather lackluster place. Forgive the reference, but have you ever heard of Tatooine?”

[thedoublefang-deactivated201608]

“Make a stand? Oh — I don’t plan on fighting. Not now anyway. I have bigger things to worry about, Chapel.” He looked through the brim of his hat, as relaxed as ever. Livio showed no urgency, and absolutely no sense of motivation. Mostly it was on purpose, out of spite, but other than that Livio was just confident with his own abilities to horde off whoever got in his way. “My stuff’s already in the shed out back, I just get ‘em, and I’m headin’ outta town. You’re makin’ it sound like it’s a pretty big round up if even you’re worried… I got a small feelin’ there’s a bit more you ain’t tellin’ me, but that’s not important now.” Hands in his lap, and feet crossed, he’d articulate his plan. “Right before sundown, there’s one moment of silence. One hour window. From there you’re only able to skim through this crowd, other hours it’s crammed with moving cars and the streamers. So. If a big force decides to come in, then they’ll have to wait for that window. I doubt they’ll want to cut through everyone guns blazing. That draws attention and expends unnecessary ammo. The way I see it, is we have two options. Get a vantage point, fire off a missile and bolt, and keep doing so until there’s manageable numbers, then cut them off from behind. Or … We just leave now. Which I am pretty keen on doing, to be honest. I’m not much up for the bloodshed anymore, and I don’t want you dragging me back into it because you want to cause trouble.” 

“So, what’ll it be, you gonna head out with me or not? Or did anything else I just said peek your interest?” Livio may have been lax, but he definitely hadn’t lost his touch. That sense of lasting paranoia always had its effects that stuck around even in the most tranquil of moments. He had this place’s traffic, movements, and faces down to an exact science. “Be quick. Times-a-wastin’.”

[nevergreen-chapel-blog]

Leave? He was just planning on leaving? The idea turned his stomach just as much as the revelation that his biggest flop of a student had leashed his ace pupil into a giant disappearing act. Here Chapel was, with no proof that Livio’s precious orphan dumpster would be made into hostage material to draw him out--only speculation, and to boot, no authority over the young man to make him stand his ground and act!

How many more humiliations was he expected to suffer through today?

But...why couldn’t he leave? With Livio and Razlo, he’d certainly have the added muscle to survive indefinitely in the wasteland. But there too, he lacked the proof that they wouldn’t turn on him for everything he’d put them through during their training. And then there was....there was...

Research. His research.

Everything he’d come to learn about his new condition, enlightenment, abominative state--whatever label he could but to it--all of his research now existed in this one town, buried beneath the city like a forgotten time capsule. He couldn’t possibly leave that. Then there was...

His little ‘base’ itself. Right.

Every city had a Plant. Some lucky ones had a few, all still connected and attached to a shred of a broken hull. Underground, unable to remove without threatening some kind of structural collapse, a few of theirs still worked. Those were priceless feats of engineering and...and--

Rooted in place, he refused to face the obvious. Instead, he spat out his response.

“You’re pathetic. If you’re going to run for the rest of your life, I sincerely hope you enjoy spitting in the face of everything I taught you.” Except that was the twist of it, wasn’t it? The lessons he’d learned growing into the man he now was, the lessons he’d impressed upon Nicholas, then Livio and Razlo, was how to survive. Period. If running kept them alive another day, Chapel would have succeeded in imparting them his knowledge. He was just too proud to admit that now, simply because Livio’s plans did not coincide with his own.

“But fine. You enjoy yourself. I--” He moved for his Punisher, hefting it back out of the ground. “--will deal with this myself.”

[thedoublefang-deactivated201608]

Continued from here with @nevergreen-chapel

The knock at the door was a surprise, even more so at this time of day. The church hardly ever got visitors, so it took just a moment more to answer the door as Jasmine checked her hair at the mirror by it. Finally, it came open, and to her surprise it was a man bearing gifts. Someone actually saw the donation posters and brought things. 

“Oh, wonderful!” She’d turn to shout out a few names. Jimmy, Johnny, and Sam. Older boys who came front to take the gifts and go put them by their respective places inside. “Thank you so much! I was beginning to think that no one would bring anything this year, you’re the first one! Is there anything I can do to thank you, sir?”

[nevergreen-chapel-blog]

It was a bit of a relief to get rid of the old effects. In one way, it helped others--that alone brought a smile to his face, but at the same time, it helped clear the air of old ghosts for him. Some of the memories of life on the ship had begun to fade, some of the faces beginning to blur--but some details he held with sharp recall.

Like the tang of the coffee, always too bitter for his taste that one of the Plant engineers insisted on brewing. Or the Assistant Navigator awake during his shift, and the photos of her family--awaiting her in Cold Sleep, sitting at the corners of her console. He’d made sure to keep Rem’s things though. Just in case. He’d sworn for certain he’d seen her come through the town--a miracle made real...but Chapel had never laid eyes on the woman. Conrad however, shied away from the worry that he could have hallucinated the entire ordeal. She was simply missing.

Just like Ms. Carter.

...where could they have gone?

His eyes tracked to upward as he thought--a reflex more than anything, and he caught sight of the mistletoe again. He coughed to conceal a chuckle--the idea of Chapel’s unfortunate ingestion of the decorative plant springing to mind. He pushed it from his memory and decided perhaps instead of waiting passively, perhaps it was time he did something on his own.

“Actually, I was wondering if you’d seen some people in the area. Three actually. I know one is fairly well known around these parts--a tall man with blonde hair--” he gestured with his hand, a height just a bit taller than he was. “--usually in a red duster. And there’s two women we’re mutual friends with. One with longer black hair and a second with short blonde hair.” He could only assume the woman knew Vash--it was hard not to around these parts, but wasn’t sure if she knew him by a pseudonym or not. As for the others, “--the women go by Rem and Samantha.”

It was a long shot, but he hoped nevertheless.

Reblog with a gif of what Pokemon your muse would be

[nevergreen-chapel-blog]

Chapel: Genesect

Originally posted by phantomvile

Old as fuck, scientifically modified fighter? Oh yeah. No regrets.

Conrad: Porygon2

Originally posted by willfosho

Sciencebaby, made for space and learning? All the yes.

[rhyssedlightning-archived]

[?] Jack In. Jack off.

  Synopsis: Help a young CEO out by recovering a lost A.I in the shape of an asshole. 

Description: Hey – Rhys here, just a budding CEO of an old company and – u-uh, yeah      sorry this is actually the first time I’m calling out to people off a bounty board but. A-Anyway.    I’ve lost one of my valuable A.Is that’s more or less essential to my company’s success.        He’s caught a malicious virus that’s basically making him go awry. Currently, he’s shifting    around computers and appliances all over Helio’s Ruins, so you gotta be quick. Oh and…      don’t be alarmed with how the A.I looks. You’ll probably recognize the mask and the                condescending speech patterns, but I assure you it’s practically harmless. I DO need him    to be intact if you want your reward though. It’s a brand-spanking new Atlas prototype SMG,   and it’ll be yours if you bring it back here. Thanks. 

Level: 50                                                       Difficulty: Varies 

  Rewards: 75,000 + Atlas SMG (Epic Grade)          EXP: 1000

// Note: The A.I in question is @handsomejackhoney

[nevergreen-chapel-blog]

He’d had a rough time, even after draining the airlock. His suit hadn’t needed to be depressurized, but to strip out of it fully would have taken up too much time--time he didn’t have. So he shuffled as fast as he could to the command post he and Chapel had wired together, uncoupling and yanking off his gloves--his hands dry underneath where the rest of him was still dripping water everywhere.

“Where were you--”

He could hopscotch back in the direction his lost little signal had come from, but came to disappointment that it hadn’t been Chapel and relief that it came off-world. It couldn’t be Knives.

But it also wasn’t from the direction of earth...

And as he scanned as many open frequencies as he could, where he didn’t find the original message, he found something different instead.

“An....AI? How does one misplace an AI?” He couldn’t speak for what of wherever Helios was either, but zeroing in on the location of this new message, he--

No, wait. It was far out, too far out for a half-broken ship to get a signal to. So stepping back, he began to shuck out of his spacesuit, pushing the body of it down around his hips. Then reaching for a thick bundle of cords, hooked each in turn to metal port grafted onto his lower back, each plug sliding in with a sharp hiss from him. 

There. Now he was cooking with gas. He’d make sure his response came through of his own power, literally.

[SEEDS Ship 0015 Hailing. I’ve received your inquiry RE: Missing AI.

This is Doctor William Conrad of Project SEEDS. Do you copy?]

[nevergreen-chapel-blog]

Mixed Signals

The moment he'd cleared the airlock completely had been the most tense. Once out into open water Conrad slowly let out the breath he'd been holding, his DPV taking him five meters out, then ten, the twenty. The lights on his helmet only illuminated as far ahead as his arms could reach, each hand clasped tightly at the sides of his vehicle. It's headlights shone further into the blackness, but not far enough to catch against anything.

Though there was nothing he could discern in the darkness, fear and exhilaration found him in equal parts. No one else had done this. This place, wholly uncharted and unknown and here he was--

His sister perked, pushing at his thoughts. He smiled, correcting himself. /They/ were here first.

"When the reporters come," he joked, "What are they supposed to call you?"

She reminded him of a bird call, something bright and curious. She didn't know.

"We'll have to find you a name then, won’t--” He cut off abruptly, confusion and concern winning out. He’d heard something inside his helmet--a blip, a noise, something--

Killing the engine of his DPV, Conrad scrambled around, trying to check a readout panel of the forearm of his suit. Something had tried to come through, but what it was, he couldn’t tell. The message ended too abruptly. Worry rose to panic. Could it have been Chapel from the outside, trying to find a way in? Or worse, Knives?

No one on the planet had that sort of technology, spare for a few isolated locations. So...what if it were an Earth ship?

He immediately switched the engine back on, veering around and hauled ass back to the ship. 

[gufyresthere]

*** TRIGUN CHRISTMAS CALENDAR ***  

Day 12   Tesla, Knives and Vash love to put shiny things around the house, poor Rem.

offered by hurricaneclaire and gufyresthere! Day 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 /12 / next

[nevergreen-chapel-blog]

All of Conrad’s favorite blonde kiddos. RIP, Tesla.

[athelynge]

MOONS on NO MAN’S LAND by Athelynge

[nevergreen-chapel-blog]

Exit, Pursued by a Sandworm

Apparently, there was only so long Conrad could stand under threat of indefinite lockdown. Fed up with the radio silence between he and Chapel, Conrad ran a final few tests of both spacesuit and DPV, donned the former (checking his air supply first), took up the latter, then promptly did what could have possibly been the brashest thing he’d ever done, short of keeping Vash and Knives as his and Rem’s secret: he shut himself in the airlock and opened outer doors.

Of course, being designed to snap open and shut against the vacuum of space, there was little he could to prepare himself for the wall of water that rushed in, slamming him back against the sealed lock behind him. Brash, yes. Dumb, yes. But science and sentimentality waited for no man. With the airlock filled and the way ahead clear, Conrad fumbled with the controls of his suit, switching on the lights built into the helmet, then again with the DPV, turning on its much brighter headlights and engine. With hours worth of charge and only up to go, he kicked off and let DPV do the work, ferrying him out into the darkness.

[lixnheart]

My world is reduced to a single instinct: Survive.

Max, Mad Max: Fury Road. (via lixnheart)

[nevergreen-chapel-blog]

Not so much  headcanon...

...but more of an amusing story from life beneath December, with Chapel and Conrad.

In the hunk of underground ship they live on, much of its systems are shut down, spare for the areas they live in. One of the exceptions left on throughout the ship are some of the emergency systems, such as overhead sprinklers or automated fire extinguishers in case of something sparking and catching alight. Chapel smokes pretty heavily.

I’m sure you can imagine how well this went over in the early days of their cohabitation.

In any case, when Chapel discovered the old emergency fire systems were still functioning, Conrad in return found the other drenched and about as sour as a half-drowned cat.

[nevergreen-chapel-blog]

sparklyscion:

bold any fears that apply to your muse!!! italicize what makes them uncomfortable!!! (and add your own if they aren’t listed)

Chapel

the dark | fire | open water (sea/ocean) | (any) deep water | being alone | crowded/enclosed spaces (agoraphobia) | confined spaces (claustrophobia) | change | failure | war | being controlled/lack of free will | prison | blood | drowning | suffocation | public speaking | natural animals (any kind) | supernatural monster/animals (any kind) | heights | death/dying | intimacy | rejection | abandonment | the unknown | the future | not being good enough | scary stories | talking to new people | poverty | loud noises | being touched | powerlessness | failure of senses/ability to orient self

Conrad

the dark | fire | open water (sea/ocean) | (any) deep water | being alone | crowded/enclosed spaces (agoraphobia) | confined spaces (claustrophobia) | change | failure | war | being controlled/lack of free will | prison | blood | drowning | suffocation | public speaking | natural animals (any kind) | supernatural monster/animals (any kind) | heights | death/dying | intimacy | rejection | abandonment | the unknown | the future | not being good enough | scary stories | talking to new people | poverty | loud noises | being touched | powerlessness | failure of senses/ability to orient self

[rpmememaker]

Send me a ¥ and a command and my muse has to obey.

Take advantage of this…….

[derringer-merylstryfe]

sidenote: feel free to angst this up or use it against my muse in any way

[nevergreen-chapel-blog]

Chapel only. Conrad is currently off on business.

[nevergreen-chapel-blog]

Plant Abilities: Given Form

In Trigun, during a confrontation of Vash and Knives, Knives scolds Vash for having kept the scars he’s received from his time among humans. From this we can gauge that Independents have some control over their given form, as Vash--while he has healed, refuses to allow even his gnarliest of scars to fade away.

Of course, there’s a limit to this--you can’t just regenerate out of nothing. Knives learns this the hard way and literally has to be rebirthed from a bulb Plant (seriously Knives, wtf I don’t care if it saved your life, that was fucking weird). 

Another point in form, is you see the spontaneous and immediate growth of wings, baby parts, etc from both Vash and Knives. (again wtf with the sister parts, Knives, I know you’re running around absorbing them but what the actual fuck pay attention to what you’re doing)

So from this, it’s not a hard jump to say they have power over their ability to change their altered form. When Knives puts in less concentration to shape and more to power, he makes freaky arm-cannons and sprouts people parts where they shouldn’t be. On the other hand, Vash has control over his healing so tightly that his scars remain as they were, quite possibly from the day they stopped bleeding.

For this incarnation of Chapel, when he was fused with his sister Plant, as he battled for control of their conjoined body, his transformation, fueled by the raw fear that failure would mean a more permanent death--took about a week and was extremely painful. Dually noted, in his recent [scuffle with Elendira], he triggers an immediate change when his subconscious begins to relate his run from her with trauma from his childhood.

He’ll eventually change back, but for the short term, he’s stuck.

[nevergreen-chapel-blog]

“...”

Thanks to a panicked confrontation with the Crimsonnail, he’s now physically eleven, a house fell on him, his pants don’t fit, and his favorite (and only) pair of sunglasses are ruined. This really couldn’t get any worse.

[sanglantyeux-deactivated2016050]

What a situation Chapel had just gotten himself into. Fixed in a state of utter confusion from his unstable biology, and now he’d just pissed off the wrong person. His maneuvers had just pissed off the wrong person. She didn’t bother giving an immediate chase, only worried about blocking his onslaught with a wave of her suitcase. Following him was ungodly easy considering the amount of noise he made getting to his spot. The people whom he’d fired off on were panicking and some even attempting to fire back, but they were cut short once Elendira stepped into the streets. Commotion was cut down by a nail from the sky, others were drawn quiet by the sight of her, and soon the entire town had been drawn to a dead silence. 

The air was starting to thicken up, temperatures colder. Much colder. She was furious and she wanted to make sure chapel felt it. Finally, she made it up to his hide out. Struggling to keep a calm tone, she’d speak out to him. 

“You made me break a  f҉̥̦͕̞͉̜͈͔̘ṳ̡̦̩̞̱̪c͉̪͔̯͘k̷͖̫͕̬͞i̲̫̤̖̼̬̫͘͞ń̶͈̣̠g̤̺͚̜̭ nail, Chapel. This could have been easy but you once again screwed everything up.” You brain dead sacks of meat are all the same, once you’ve gotten past your use you’ve absolutely become complete garbage. So I’ll dispose of you just like one.”

Her actions were quick, very quick. She saw through the opening of the door, and a wall that would lead her right out the back. So, one nail was fired, and soon hundreds more would rain down on top of the house. Elendira was safe from harm however, due to her taking the path of the first nail out through the hole it made. Once she was out the back, she’d send another barrage of nails down, twenty more, through the house. The counter attack had only taken a good minute, and already it was over. The house littered with nails that fell right through the roof to the floor. Whether it hit chapel or not didn’t matter, because the house soon collapsed inward. Elendira, confident in her work, was ready to take her leave and go look for Livio. Wherever he was. 

“Rest in peace, fucker.”

[nevergreen-chapel-blog]

Her bitter monologue, short as it was, was not lost on him. The sharp bite of her words found their mark deep, but he held his ground, tucked away and silent. But then came the sounds of her briefcase opening and expanding, weaponizing itself not unlike his own Punisher when-- 

Oh...oh no.

She certainly wasn’t called the fucking ‘Crimsonnail’ for nothing.

The first round had already begun its descent by the time he’d lunged forward, scrambling to hide himself beneath his Punisher, already across the floor, waiting from where he’d hauled it up the damaged stairs.

Once nail skimmed past his leg, slicing his pantleg as he curled himself underneath the frame of his weapon, hiding beneath it and hoping desperately the nails couldn’t puncture through the metal. It had been made from the scavenged remains of an old ship, but versus a preternatural ability, he wasn’t sure how well it would hold up.

The rest came by in a blur.

There was no trickle down of one strike preceding the next, like some kind of water torture--it was a full deluge all at once, piercing through the roof, some immediately cutting through the floorboards of the second story, others stopping partway, embedded all around him, some barely glancing off the side of his Punisher.

Then as suddenly as it had begun, there was silence and stillness. Chapel held his breathe, frozen in place, his body rigid underneath the body of the heavy cross, elbows tucked in tightly with his hands clasped above his head. When he tried to pull in a breath, he struggled, his body trembling. --except he wasn’t the only one shaking. The whole building began to groan, straining under the injury and weight the nails had brought.

And then another barrage followed, just as suddenly as the first. Unable to withstand the onslaught, the building collapsed, burying both Chapel and Punisher in the rubble.

[thedoublefang-deactivated201608]

Needless to say, Livio was speechless. His yellow eyes glared at Chapel for a strong second, and for that time it was like time stood still. Millions of ways to kill the man again ran through his mind. However, he promised himself he was a changed man. He wouldn’t fall back in the old habits, he couldn’t, he had far to much riding on him to screw up because one rotten bastard decided to raise from the dead. He struggled with the ideas, but he’d find it easier to hold it back. Now that things were at stake it was easier to keep the mind more occupied. 

“Okay.” He’d holster his guns. The comment over him taking care of the assassin wasn’t any of his concern, he could care less. “I’m a bit confused as to why you’d bring them here, thinking we’ll protect you?” Livio would give a chuckle, and shove him aside, going by his house to grab a lawn chair that was under his wooden porch “Fuck you” he’d say very clearly taking a recline in the chair after setting it up. A laugh came, it felt good to say that to him of all people. Livio wouldn’t fight Chapel, but that didn’t mean he’d be nice. “Well, I’m guessing you didn’t come here with that little of information. Any idea how many are coming? Better yet, when will they be here? Will we need to evacuate the people in this area?” Reclined, and in a rather lax tone, he still kept that sharp eye through the brim of his at as he stared at Chapel. Independance was a thing for him now, and he held it close and would maintain it. He didn’t need to keep the customs and courtesies in mind now.

[nevergreen-chapel-blog]

A certain kind of fury balled up inside of him--anger in Livio’s new, lax and lazy demeanor, anger in his disrespect--regardless of the send-off Chapel had given him, anger at his utter indifference to the situation. But from the former-most of those irritations, there was grace in that Livio had not attacked him. In the same breath that it drew ire from Chapel, so to was he thankful. He’d come with the hopes of as little blood as possible be spilled, but the utter lack of fucks to be given still unsettled him...

Without his sunglasses to hide behind and his patience to restrain his reactions severely limited, his scowl went unchecked, his brows furrowed. “I’ve run into two assailants, yours--busy fleeing from what I can only assume was his poor attempt at murder, annoyance perhaps, but not murder--and another, a sniper no less, that caught me on the edge of town. I find it extremely unlikely that they’d simply send in men to bother us like a neighbor looking for a cup of sugar--we both know better than that. But my circumstances are different than the last time we met and currently, so I have no intentions of returning to their ranks.”

He’d nearly said ‘custody’ instead, the difference in the two being worlds apart. He also conveniently failed to mention his trigger finger and how Livio’s assailant had died long before Chapel had considered asking about things like reinforcements. Oops.

Apparently two years was all it took to get sloppy.

“As well, if they truly want you, I’d reconsider your current--” Looking over the whole scene set before him with Livio kicked back in his chair, Chapel’s gut clenched. Disgusting. It was hard pressed to believe this was the child he’d trained. But was that more an insult to Livio or Chapel?

“--stance...on the issue. If you remember who I decided to target to bring Nicholas scurrying out like a rat from his hole, you’d be an idiot to think the Eye wouldn’t do the same. So yes--” he added curtly, “--you may want to stage some level of evacuation, or at least plan where to make a stand.”

So long as he could count on Livio to stage a counter offensive, Chapel could do the same alongside him.