capeandcowllogs | Oh lord, won't you buy me a colour TV

Oh lord, won't you buy me a colour TV

WHO: Vash, Elisa, open I guess
WHERE: Somewhere in the City
WHEN: Wednesday night
WARNINGS: none
SUMMARY: IDK Vash is homeless, Elisa's a cop, and the City's the same as it ever was.
FORMAT: Whatever. Paragraph to begin with, but we can switch to whatever's most convenient.

Vash's home these days was a cardboard box. When it was dry he would unfold it and sleep on top of it. When it was wet he would fold it up and use it as his roof. He'd sneak into the YMCA and take a shower thrice a week. It was a hard life. In many ways it was worse than his life in his world. There were ways, however strange and unpleasant, to survive a hike through the desert. Here you had to root through dumpsters. You had more choice. But a choice between indigestion and food poisoning was not a choice Vash wanted to make.

At the moment Vash was wrapped in a blanket, trying to go to sleep.

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Elisa was on break, and was walking down to the little diner that Nygma had pointed out to her. It was farther than she would have liked, but at the same time, it was one of the only places in town that actually served real coffee. Totally worth the walk, at any rate, and it helped her develop a bit of a beat.

As she walked past an alley, something drew her eye. Her cop instincts, ever present, told her that this was something that needed investigation. Drawing her gun, she crept down the alley. A large black cat with big green eyes meowed at her as she past. When all she saw was a homeless man, she lowered her gun. "Hey, buddy, you okay?"

"I'm okay." said Vash wearily. "Just trying to sleep." He shifted in the blanket, trying to get a little comfortable. He missed the sand.

"There are better places to sleep," Elisa replied, but not unkindly. "We have shelters and refugee camps still up from the earthquakes and the monster attacks. Come on, I'll take you to them."

"Are there?" Vash stifled a yawn and untangled himself from the blanket. He stuffed it in his back and then stood up. He was a tall man. Though not ridiculously so, he loomed above most people. "I guess it beats staying here. Lead the way." he said, his customary good-natured smile plastered on his face.

He was far more cheerful than she would have expected from a homeless man. Most of the ones she had encountered in her years of policing were either crazy, addicts, or the unfortunate combination of both. "You didn't know?" she asked, surprised by his height. And his hair. "What's your name, pal?"

"Didn't even know there were such things. Where I come from, it's every man for himself. And if you get on the sheriff's bad side, so help you. Say, you sound familiar. I'm Vash the Stampede. Have we met before?" He was smiling when he was chased out of town too. Smiling was his way of dealing with it all. There were those who had called him crazy.

Elisa blinked in surprise once the homeless man gave his name. "Wait, you're Vash? And you got ported here?" She frowned. "What the hell are you doing living on the streets?!"

Vash picked up his bag. "In the early days we weren't allowed to leave the City. But I decided to do it anyway, so my tags deactivated and I lost access to my apartment at the MAC. And I haven't been able to find a job since I got fired from Dunkin' Donuts." he explained. "I guess I could leave, but I feel sort of responsible for this place."

Elisa stared at him in surprise for a few moments. "You got fired from Dunkin' Donuts," she repeated blandly. "How did you manage that? You didn't steal from them, did you?"

"I dunno. Save them from a bunch of Joker Toxin-infected people, you'd think they'd be grateful." Vash shrugged. "I guess they figured I attracted trouble. It wouldn't be the first time someone told me that."

"You did? Then what the hell are you doing living in a box?!" Elisa was livid. That was no way to treat heroes, especially people who worked against the Joker. She scowled, deeply. "This entire City attracts trouble like flies to honey. Don't take it personally."

She paused for a moment, considering. "So... you're unemployed. Wanna change that?"

Vash had lived the last twenty seven years of his life on the run. When everyone knows you're wanted for 60 billion double dollars, even the friendly people didn't want you in their town. "You could say I'm used to it. Not the living in a box, but the people not being nice to me. I don't blame them."

Elisa asked him if he wanted to change his employment status, his grin widened. "Would I?!" he exclaimed, clasping his hands in glee.

Elisa just shook her head in amazement. "Some of you people here have far more patience than I do. People aren't nice to me, fine, then I go and find someone who is. You seem like a decent guy, why shouldn't you blame them?" She looked at him askance. "Unless you're one of those people who tries to martyr themselves at every opportunity. That can get kind of old pretty quick."

He certainly seemed earnest. "How about coming to work for the cops? McClane might be able to do something about your tags, and we'll definitely get you a shower and lodgings." She paused. "Don't screw up."

Vash chuckled. "I'm no martyr. But they're just looking out for their own. That's what people do." And that's what Vash did too. He just had a broader definition of 'his own' than most people.

The prospect of working for the cops was a sobering one, though. He'd probably have to keep the whole 'most wanted man of No Man's Land' thing a closer secret even than he had so far. Then again, these weren't the same people, and this wasn't the same world. And a treacherous voice whispered that it would be nice to sleep in a bed again.

"I'll do it!" he said.

Elisa snorted. "In my experience, martyrs tend to wind up getting themselves killed. I'd rather have a live cop who was a little more concerned with self-preservation than a dead martyr, any day of the week." She started walking again, motioning for Vash to follow her back to the station. So much for coffee. "So, where'd you come from? Not some place with seasons, if I remember correctly.

Self-preservation was not one of Vash's priorities, to tell the truth. His scarred and maimed body was a testament to over a century of putting other people's lives before his own. Somehow, he had survived by virtue of his species, and a combination of faith and obligation.

"A desert planet." he replied. "We see actual rain once in a red moon."

"Huh," Elisa replied. "My father's from Arizona. Native American. We never really spent much time out west, but when we did, I'd always hate how dry it was. I'm not sure I could do too well on a desert planet. How did you all survive with no rain?"

"Badly." replied Vash shortly. "We had advanced technology to provide us with food and water and energy, but even so the living was hard. No one could live out in the desert. They all lived in towns and cities."

"Hmm," murmured the detective. "Sounds like it." What else could she add to that? It was an awkward conversation to have, and Elisa began to wonder if he had been living on the streets for a reason. Still, she had asked, and she probably should just give him the benefit of the doubt.

"So, what're your skills?"

"I'm the best marksman you'll ever see. I have other abilities, but they're not very relevant to police work." The truth was Vash didn't really have any marketable skills except for the preciseness of his shooting, and maybe some proficiency with technology. He would never sell the former, and he wasn't sure what to do with the latter. The fast food industry had given him a chance, and then it had spat him out again as soon as he hit a hurdle. He'd spent most of his life on the run or on the move. How could he become a 'productive member of society' in such circumstances?

"I guess the best way to describe what I do is that I'm good at resolving situations non-lethally."

Sniper, Elisa began to catalogue as he talked. Hesitant to describe himself, too. Perhaps a colored past? Well, they were a bit too desperate for manpower to reject a good marksman. Her ears pricked up noticeably at his last statement. "Really," she said with interest. "And how do you do that?"

Having a negotiator would be a damn good thing right about now.

"It's less complicated than it sounds. I just interrupt whenever I see someone about to be killed, with words, with a well-aimed bullet, with whatever is handy at the time." A negotiator Vash wasn't, or at least, not necessarily. And it wouldn't work against psychos like the Joker, or people like Legato who had a personal grudge against the world in general and Vash in particular.

Elisa seemed suspicious, which was just as well. Vash had always avoided talking about himself, in case it came up that he was THAT Vash, the Humanoid Typhoon. Here he hadn't really had to worry, until just now. Oh, the irony.

"I see," Elisa replied neutrally. "That seems... pretty foolhardy, actually. How many times have you gotten hurt because of it?"

It sounded more like the guy had a deathwish, but his intentions seemed good. Maybe if they trained his bad habits out of him? No, she was thinking like she had a full precinct at her back. She missed having manpower. Still, they needed bodies, and if he was as good a sniper as he was claiming, then she'd take him.

"I guess it does look pretty foolish." Vash had a strange expression on his face just then, a little sheepish, a little pained. "I've gotten hurt many times. But I've also lived for a very long time. There was someone I had to stop. And I made a promise, long ago, never to snuff a single human life."

And there was a hint of irony in that statement, if Elisa could catch it. Vash regretted killing, but he didn't regret killing Legato nearly as much.

Elisa looked up at him sharply. "How about inhuman?" she asked. Being a pacifist was all well in good in theory, but there were times when it came down to you versus them. Every cop knew this. Had to know it, really, otherwise they'd be a dead cop. "Not sure all of the baddies in this City would count as 'human'. And how long have you lived, exactly?"

"That wouldn't be honoring the spirit of the promise, now would it? I'm 150 years old, and I'm not human either. Neither is Knives." Vash was smiling his usual smile again.

"Knives?" Elisa asked in sharp surprise. "You mean, the Knives who gave us the antidote for the toxin?"

"Yeah. We're brothers. He doesn't make any secrets of the fact that he's not human. He doesn't like them much." Vash stopped himself there. He didn't really want Elisa to pursue that line of thought further.

"So, how about this police job?"

"Yeah, that I gathered. But he still made the antitoxin, and he didn't have to," she countered. So long as this Knives wasn't killing people in the streets, he could dislike people as much as he pleased, as far as she was concerned. "So, we're going to take you back to the precinct, give you a shower, then bring you up to Chief McClane. I gotta be honest, Vash, we cannot afford to have a negotiator that gets shot up. There are so few cops working in the city as it is, any one of us laid up for a week or so is a serious blow."

"That's true. I think he's changing for the better. Just don't tell him I said that." Vash chuckled. "I'll be careful."

Elisa chuckled as well. "My lips are sealed. I'm good at keeping secrets, don't worry."

The walk down to the station was passing remarkably quickly. "So, would you be fine with arresting people? Knowing the law and upholding it?"

Mmmmm. Vash recalled a time when he saved a man from hanging. But this was no small town, and lynching was against the law here, wasn't it? "I'll be fine with that, sure." It would just be a little strange to be on the other side of the law, for once.

Elisa laughed a bit. "I'm glad to hear it. We'll give you a crash course, too. There are enough of us to spare that, at least. No more walking into dangerous situations without proper backup though, got it? We really can't afford dead cops."

"I have no objections to that either." replied Vash. "Actually I did have a partner once. He saved my bacon more times than I can count. He was a great man to have at my side."

"Really?" Elisa asked. "He sounds like the best kind of partner to have. Was he a cop, then?"

Edited 2009-09-01 23:14 (UTC)

Vash shook his head. "There wasn't much in the way of law enforcement back home. He was a lousy priest but a good friend."

"...I think that church where you come from must have been quite an expereince!" Elisa blinked in amazement.

"Huh. Yeah." Vash chuckled.

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Oh lord, won't you buy me a colour TV

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KURONEKO SAMA!

YES

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