realityshifted | (no subject)

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trigun maximum (da) nicholas d. wolfwood

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[Two men appear sliding along the 'floor' of the Astral Plane, one clad in black and the other in red. They look like they're hugging each other as they rolled for a few more feet then come to a stop, their wake marred with bits of stone, wood, and the strong smell of gunpowder. The priest in black ends up on the bottom and lays there sucking in air, a cigarette still some how managing to stay glued to the corner of his mouth.]

"Th' fuck!"

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Can too!

[erks as he is pulled along with Vash, some of the red coat tangled around his limbs]

Yeah. Figured it would be better than smackin' inta a brick wall.

...Hey! Get off! [pushes at him, frowning]

Get your coat off of me! [tugs on said coat and nearly elbows Vash in the ribs]

Get off my coat first! [pushing at him a lot harder now, wincing as he tries to scoot back from him]

[rolls over and lays there limbs all akimbo and breathing hard, cigarette still firmly lodged in the corner of his mouth]

...I think I've got a busted rib.

[groans, slowly pushing himself up to a sitting position]

You should get that wrapped up before we go back. We still have to deal with the rest.

We wouldn't even need t' be here if I hadn't left m' gun at home!

[pushes himself to a sort of sitting position, pressing a hand against his side] Help me with th' ribs an' I'll check your back.

That thing's far too conspicuous!

[gives a shake of his head, scooting around to face him] It's not that bad. It can wait until later.

My baby ain't that strange! What 'bout those goons' an' their spiked shields?

[frowns at him and tugs off his jacket, and unbuttons his shirt] You might have somethin' stuck in it.

I didn't think they'd have any weird shields like that.

[shakes his head again, looking a little more stubborn] It feels more like it'll be a bruise.

I thought they did.

[frowns at him and manages to get his shirt off without jarring his ribs too much] An' you'll know that. C'mon, help me with this so we can get goin'.

[scoots in closer, feeling gently along Wolfwood's ribs to see which are broken] Let me use your shirt for this, I don't have anything on me.

[hisses as he hit the ones that were sore, handing over his shirt] Damn well better buy me a new one.

It's not like it's my fault they fault they had a bomb!

[taking the shirt, he scoots around to behind Wolfwood as he begins to tear it up into strips, slowing as he sees the scars on his back] ...

Yeah but you're still ripping my shirt up.

[blows smoke and frowns, turning his head to look at Vash, ready to rip into him before catching the look on his face] ...He doesn't have 'em?

... No. He doesn't.

[solemn now, he ties the ends of the strips together before starting to wind them around his ribs, keeping enough pressure to hold the broken ones in place]

Outside, inside, it don't make any difference.

[he grounds out the cigarette butt and raises his arms for the first couple loops and then helps with trying to keep the wrappings tight] Don' worry 'bout 'em.

[stays silent until he finishes with the makeshift bandages, tying it off tightly] How's that feel?

[tries a few deep breaths, nodding to himself as his ribs don't jar so much and he can still breath fine] It'll work. Thanks... [turns to look at Vash and stops talking, just looking at him instead]

[stares at him for a moment before pulling his arms back, scooting back from him as well] Then maybe we should get going.

[blinks, grabs and shakes off his coat and tugs it back on and checks his .45] Yeah. Let's chase 'em outta town.

[climbs up to his feet, checking to make sure Wolfwood's ready before disappearing back off the Plane]

[moves a tad slower than normal as he gets to his feet and poofs back to town]

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