#angelictyphoon

[heartinhands]

@angelictyphoon | vash and spike!

Spike's not stupid enough to go looking for a bounty that's high enough to have him set to retire for the rest of his life and play games with that kind of fire or the kind of man that's crazy enough to be worth that kind of cash, but he's also not going to up and just look away when the $$60,000,000,000 man himself comes into the bar Spike's hanging out in for the night and sits down right next to him without a care in the world.

Spike swirls his shitty whiskey around in a permanently dusty glass and glances sidelong at Vash the Stampede, the Humanoid Typhoon. How this guy can manage to afford a get-up that crazy is beyond him. How he can wear it in the desert and not overheat is even more beyond him. "Before you get too comfy, you know you're rubbing shoulders with a bounty hunter, right." Even though he keeps his voice low to not attract anyone else's attention, he's not sure why he feels compelled to warn Vash, but surely this guy knows he's got a crosshairs on his head at all times. They can do the bounty hunting part later. "I want to finish my drink first though." He takes a gulp to prove his point. See?

[forgivenpunishment]

❰❰ CHIN ❱❱ sender tilts the receiver’s chin with their weapon

⩥ @angelictyphoon || self-indulgent prompts

❰❰ CHIN ❱❱ sender tilts the receiver’s chin with their weapon

It's moments like these that remind Wolfwood of the sheer power lurking behind those sorrowful glass-green eyes. Even in their little game of cat and mouse, the Stampede was heads above him at every turn. Just when the preacher thought he'd lost the spiky-haired menace, there he'd be up on the rooftop with the sunset glinting off of those damn shooter's glasses—his gaze fixed directly where Wolfwood was hiding.

He's being hunted, and the competition isn't even close.

In a moment of drunken vigor, Wolfwood had mentioned that he'd be able to snake his way out of town without Vash catching him, and that he could easily do it before the sun set the next day. He was so confident that he bet on it.

He doesn't remember what he bet on it, but he bet on it. Hopefully it's not more than a hundred double-dollars or a few drinks—he doesn't have more than that.

Well, it's the next day. Vash gave him a head start, and though his now-sober self thinks the whole game is stupid (especially when he's nursing a slight hangover), here he is playing it. He doesn't even have Punisher with him, instead leaving it back in the hotel room in favor of bringing his concealed Grader with him. Such a stupid game—he may as well give himself any advantage he can.

... Not that any advantage matters.

Vash had his number from the get-go. It took little effort at all for him to find Wolfwood. No matter how many times Wolfwood hides, Vash is right there, waiting. The bastard even has the audacity to let the assassin reach the edge of town before accosting him in the twilight before dusk.

Which... leads Wolfwood to his current predicament.

"Your finger ain't even on the trigger, Tongari. Gonna need to try harder than that to scare me," he taunts as he's pinned hands-up against the brick wall with that damn colt right under his chin. Wolfwood can't even see the bastard's eyes through his glasses—but he can see Vash's trigger finger on the guard rather than the part that actually kills people. "The offer to kill me was a one-time deal, so don't go gettin' any funny ideas."

His throat clicks as he swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing with the action. Admittedly, Wolfwood is sweating—and it's not all from exertion. There's something inherently thrilling about being under the gun, especially when it's Vash tilting his head with that cold steel. His mouth is practically watering, and he's not exactly sure why.

Needless to say, he lost the damn bet—he wasn't ever in the game in the first place. Not a damn shot he would've gotten out, even on a good day.

"Alright you win, ass. Gonna have to remind me what I owe ya though."

Oh, he's so screwed if he lets Vash come up with a new bet on the spot. May as well entertain the idiot for now...

[millionsnife]

@angelictyphoon || hey vash lets go look at corn

He has no idea how the others all managed to plan things without a single one of them communicating said plans to each other and yet still manage to all coordinate leaving at the same time without any of them realizing they'd all went off at once and left their traumatized idiot behind.

It's the only possible explanation he has for how, exactly, they've ended up in a situation where he's suddenly responsible for a version of his brother where he'd clearly won.

"...Wanna go pick some corn?"

That was a safe activity, right? Corn. No one could get shot, stabbed or set on fire picking corn.

[nothinglikegod]

“Oh, quiet down, I’ve had enough.”

"Whad'ya mean, you've had enough?"

Wolfwood slumps over the bar, elbows heavy, and eyebrows askew. His fingers are curled around a full shot 'a whiskey because he thought this was what they were doing: having fun, shouting, laughing, bantering being obnoxious---- because being stupid was the best way to forget a bad day.

[eventheodds]

@angelictyphoon continued from [ x ]

There is a part of her that knows this will not last for as long as she'd like it to. She knows that, in what feels a matter of moments, this room will no longer be a safe haven for them. In a matter of moments, they will be pulled in different directions and will be made to do all that they can to survive these final moments.

Meryl desperately wishes they can just stay here.

It's safe here.

She looks at him as he takes one of her hands, her eyes closing for the briefest moment when she can feel the press of his lips against her fingers, and Meryl can begin to feel her heart breaking.

She's told him he's not alone, that he doesn't need to go at this alone, that she will be there--that she promises to always be there, even when she's scared, because she is, but even Meryl Stryfe, the Iron Lady, should not be making such promises because she doesn't know what tomorrow will bring.

Maybe it's just enough to be like this, to be here and not think what will happen once either of them step outside of this room. She's terrified of what he will have to face once he leaves, knowing that this is just temporary.

She's terrified of losing him.

Trekking across the desert of No Man's Land, trying to find shelter in the last safe place, had not been easy. She can still remember those hard nights and even more difficult days when the dual suns felt endless with their light and their heat; the nights where the five moons looked so cold and distant and uninterested in their plight to survive; the stars were more so distant and unforgiving, completely unawares of the plight of humanity to make it through the night.

Yet, somehow, she trudged on. Through the exhaustion and hopelessness she was feeling with each and every step, she continued on because she put her belief in someone that gave her hope.

However, now, the calm before the storm, feels like it is a goodbye for the last time.

She moves with him, accommodating him as he shifts so they both can be comfortable in what feels like their final moments. The tears she'd been holding begin to fall and Meryl does her best to not make a sound. She tells herself she needs to be strong because others will be counting on her.

She needs to be strong.

It is the hardest thing she has ever done--harder still than navigating that unforgiving desert and feeling lost.

"You'll come back, right?"

Her voice is soft, small, and it's clear that she sounds scared. Terrified.

Please, be strong.

[goldendivinewrath]

@angelictyphoon [From here.]

He wants to look, but he doesn't want to see. It's a familiar shape and a familiar voice, a familiar presence, but wholly separate. Not a reflection. Something, someone, he can and can't sense; but he knows better than to try too hard. It's--

Annoying. Frustrating. To understand that there are some things he might want to remain a mystery.

Particularly when the answer comes, and the smile that he can feel settling across his lips is tight. Forced. Tired. Maybe it doesn't show. Hopefully. He can't fool himself as well as he wants to. "I-- Yeah." That, even that, sounds slightly crushed.

He understands. And wishes otherwise. "I guess I've tried to stop thinking about it. Wondering. The...the point where it all..." He shivers. Is he cold? "I keep wondering, if it's all my fault, then shouldn't I be able to fix it..?"

Something in asking the question makes whatever's around him feel more solid. Maybe that's the wrong thing to do.

[bluesummxrs]

@angelictyphoon followed the sinner

He knows he shouldn't approach, he knows his anger would get the better of him. It was so unfortunate that Knives would not let him just end him. Things would be simpler if only Knives could let go...

"It's strange how much you look like him."

[astrcthesiai-archived]

@angelictyphoon :: from here

"Well, that does not look too good," Roberto observed the smoke from the dune buggy. It earned him a "No shit" from Wolfwood and a menacing glare from Meryl.

Roberto peered over at Vash as he reacted to his statement. He was not expecting a laugh, but he could not help but have a hint of a smile curve on his lips.

"Oh, I do, I put water in my flask 'cause I haven't gotten a canteen yet," Roberto answered the Human Typhoon. It just tastes weird because it has been mostly alcoholic beverages. "But nothing beats a good bottle of whiskey."

He glanced at the smoking dune buggy and the glares at Wolfwood and Meryl sent their way. "I should probably save my water," he said. Roberto turned to Vash. "Suppose we should help them? If we can't, we might have to wait till the evening and push the buggy to the next town."