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trigun maximum (da) nicholas d. wolfwood

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[The wrapped cross hits the 'ground' with a loud clang and Wolfwood squats next to it, unzipping his bag and laying out supplies - gun oil, cleaning rags, various brushes, a black cat - hey wait, since when did a cat get into his bag? - and other odds and ends of a gun cleaning kit. Grumbling under his breath about wind and sand damage to his baby, he unwraps it and takes it apart, cleaning each piece and laying it out.]

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[Raises eyebrows.] So it was a gun? ...A very large gun.

Even a priest needs some fire power 'gainst th' bandits an' worms. [blows smoke and peers at a screw]

[Smiling, looking the gun over.] I like the metaphor. Righteous justice and all that.

She's full o' mercy! [grins and puts the screw in place, wiping oil-coated fingers off on a rag] Th' only thing is she's hell t' clean in a room.

[pops up] What's that?

...why's there a cat in your bag?

[Laughs.] I can imagine a gun of that size would be difficult to manage. I'm surprised you can even carry it...her.

Nah, it's not that heavy, really. [can say that with a straight face since it really isn't heavy to him, even if others complain about it]

This here's my traveling companion. [is now working on the gritty spots in the ammo coils]

Dammed if I know. Thing's keep on poppin' up wherever I go. [looks at the black cat who meows and goes crawling back into his bag]

You must be pretty strong then. [Is wondering in what kind of world one would need a gun of that size.]

I s'pose so. I never thought 'bout it really.

[Pondering.] The fact that it's shaped like a cross...are you some kind of priest or something?

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