|The Student, The Typhoon, and The Closet
Author: Scarlet Rurouni PM
ON HIATUS What happens when I open my closet one day, only to be knocked to the floor by Vash the Stampede himself? Well... read and find out! Did I mention how shameless selfinserts are fun? :Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Humor/Romance - Chapters: 13 - Words: 28,836 - Reviews: 128 - Favs: 28 - Follows: 5 - Updated: 04-25-04 - Published: 11-11-03 - id: 1597204
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: Alright. I know, that title sounds awfully familiar to some of you. Well, that's because this is a spin-off of Thestral1's fic, "The Student, The Wizard, and The Closet". No, I am not stealing her idea, I give her full credit for coming up with the premise for this little shameless self-insert of mine. actually, I have full permission from her to write this… so sit back… and watch what happens when Vash wanders off of Gunsmoke, and into my closet…
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Trigun, or McDonalds for that matter. Hell, I don't even own tater-tots! And should the respective owners of these… er… things decide to sue me, all they'd get would be a box of old assorted crayons… and maybe an Altoid or two. (don't own Altoids either… ~_~x;;)
The Student, The Typhoon, and The Closet
It had happened again. He had wandered into a perfectly normal, nice little no name town in the middle of nowhere, and now he was running for his life from irate townsfolk.
"Why does this always happen to me??" he cried as he ran into an alleyway in an attempt to escape the current mob of business owners who were chasing him, rifles and shot guns in hand. Because you're 'Vash the Stampede' idiot, he mentally answered himself. Skidding to a halt at the end of the ally, he decided to try and talk this out with the townspeople rationally.
"Hey! Can't we talk about this?" he asked, wearing his best friendly grin.
His only answer was a barrage of gunfire as he expertly dodged the bullets that were once again flying all around him. "That wasn't very nice!" he chided even as he ducked into a nearby building, jumping over a box of French fries as large as a couch. Tripping over a stray McDonald's chicken nugget, Vash….
"A stray chicken nugget? WHAT THE HELL??" I immediately halted my frenzied typing upon reading what I had just written.
"Man, I must be getting hungry…" Almost as if it were separate entity, my stomach rumbled in response. "Alright, alright" I muttered to myself. "Geez, Mom and Step-dad go on vacation for a few weeks and you forget to feed yourself! Liz no baka!" Shaking my head, I wandered aimlessly into the kitchen, intent on fixing myself some sort of microwavable meal for dinner. After turning the microwave on, I quickly walked back to my room, hoping to finish at least that last paragraph before taking a break to eat.
His only answer was a barrage of gunfire as he expertly dodged the bullets that were once again flying all around him. "That wasn't very nice!" he chided, even as he ducked into a nearby building, seeking some form of temporary cover. Spotting what seemed to be a back door, he took a split second to weigh his options…
Through that door, or…looking around him, he could see no other way out than the way he came, and that was currently being surrounded by the mob that had been following him.
"Aw crap!" he muttered as a fresh round of gunshots began to tear through the door behind him. Running as fast as he could, he crossed the room in a manner of seconds, nearly ripping the wooden door off it's hinges as he tore it open, running through and slamming it shut behind him….
"And then he…" I muttered to myself. "Dammit! I hate writer's block!" With a heavy sigh, I got up and walked across my small room, deciding that for the moment, this little ficlet of mine would have to wait. Just as I was reaching for the handle, the closet doors to my left burst open and I was knocked to the ground by a very large, very red… person?
"Oof!" I hit the ground rather hard, landing with this very heavy person on top of me, in such a way that all I could see was a face full of… red leather? What the…
"Look buddy, I don't know who you are, or what in the name of Kami you were doing in my closet, but would you do me a favor and GET THE HELL OFF ME??" I shouted, though I suppose it came out rather muffled, as I found it kind of hard to talk with a person on my face.
"Huh? OH! Sorry! Didn't see you there! Here, let me give you a hand…"
"Thanks" I muttered taking the offered leather-clad hand, boosting myself off the floor. Brushing myself off, I was about to give this weirdo a stern lecture on why people don't hide in other people's closets, when I suddenly found myself looking to the eyes of… "Vash… Vash the Stampede??"
For a split second, I swear I saw fear cross his handsome features just before he said, "Crap, are you trying to kill me too?" He swiftly scanned my room, seeming to look for a possible escape route, though the only one that I could see was through me, as I was standing in front of the door.
"Ummm… no?" I said, slightly confused, "does it look like I have any weapons on me?"
He seemed to notice me for the first time, looking me up and down, as though using some sort of x-ray vision to tell if I was concealing anything that I could use against him. "You don't smell like gunpowder…" he muttered, looking just as confused as I'm sure I must have looked to him.
I smacked myself upside the head. Liz, you're talking… to a freakin' anime character!!!!! He doesn't exist in this world! For a moment I thought that maybe I was hallucinating because I hadn't eaten anything yet, and that if I closed my eyes and counted to ten, he'd be gone.
…8…9…10!Cautiously, I opened one eye, expecting to see nothing more than my closet doors, but no such luck. "Maybe I should eat something…" I muttered, turning and walking out the door.
As I sat down the kitchen with my now fully cooked TV dinner, I heard footsteps heading towards me from the direction of my room. Great, now you're hallucination's following you!
Vash… no… my hallucination sauntered over to the kitchen table where I was currently seated, and plopped down in the chair opposite from me, staring at me as though he were the one hallucinating. "Are you real?" he asked.
I nearly choked on my tater-tots. "Of course I'm real! You're the hallucination!"
"What?" he started, looking even more confused than before, "Hey! If I'm the hallucination, why don't I know you're name?"
Now I was even more confused myself. "Huh? What do you mean?"
"Well, if I'm just a figment of your imagination, wouldn't I know you're name? I mean… it would only make sense if I was somehow created by your subconscious." He smirked, "But since I don't know you're name but you seem to know mine, that's means that you're the hallucination!" he finished with a triumphant grin.
I groaned. Great Liz, now you're hallucination thinks you're the waking dream. You really ARE insane! I shook my head. Maybe if I can convince him that he's not real, it'll get rid of him or something… I sighed, it was worth a shot. "Come on, I'll prove you don't exist, well, not here anyway…" I muttered as a dragged both him and myself over to my video collection. He feels awfully real for a hallucination… NO! Don't even start that! Shaking my head once more, I selected a few of the "Trigun" DVD's I owned and popped them into my player. "See? You exist on television, in an anime show, which is made of ink and paper. You're not a part of the real world!" even though it'd be lots of fun to have you around for awhile… I said stop that!!!
He looked utterly perplexed by the scene on the screen, which happened to be one of my favorites. It was the part in the show when was running up a flight of stairs, crying in French to "maman" asking why people were always chasing him. "That's me… I remember that…" he muttered in utter disbelief.
Well, this was going nowhere fast. "What's the last thing you remember before showing up in my closet?"
"I was being chased through a town by lots of people."
I snorted. "Vash, that happens everywhere you go, can you be a bit more specific?" He opened his mouth as if to say something, but quickly shut it. Oh… I wonder if it's about Knives, and he's not sure how much to tell a stranger… "Vash… have you found Knives yet?" I asked carefully, unsure of what he would do.
He simply stared at me shocked, as though he didn't know whether to run, or… I sighed. removing the current DVD, I swapped it for the last one in my collection, and played the last half of the final episode. Pointing to the screen, I said, "Do you remember that?"
His eyes went wide, just before he looked down at his feet. "I remember it. There's more though…"
I smiled sympathetically. "Look, why don't we get some sleep, and maybe by tomorrow you'll be back where you belong." Yeah, and maybe tomorrow I won't be hallucinating anymore!
He grinned, seemingly relieved that I hadn't asked him to explain what he meant by there's more… "Okay."
I sighed, at least he seemed to trust me a little, though I couldn't quite figure out why. Suddenly, my stomach grumbled again, having been deprived of dinner for the second time tonight. "Er… how about some food first?"
He immediately perked up, the mere mention of food seeming to brighten his spirits. "Got any donuts?"
I turned to look at him, and burst out laughing. "Well, if you really are real, you're definitely the Vash I know!"
He looked confused. "But I still don't know who you are…" he said, almost shyly.
I grinned. "My name's Eliza Brookson." I said, offering him a friendly handshake, "but you can call me Liz."
He smiled. "I like it."
"Come on Vash, lets get you some food…" I said taking the gunman by the hand and leading him into the kitchen.
Yup. Tomorrow was going to be interesting, if he was still here that is…. And for a moment… I almost hoped he would be…