Vash Laric, from The Multiverse, a roleplay on RPG

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#2012-11-02 17:26:32, as written by Jag

The look in the young woman's mantis green eyes showed that he'd finally managed to do something he'd been unable to do in every encounter leading up to this one -- catch the girl off guard. For the time time since they'd crossed paths, Gil had done some truly unpredicted.

Vash opened her mouth to fire something back, but instead sat and watching the young man turn away. He seemed taller now than he had a few seconds before, maybe his shoulders a little wider. Vash quickly downed the rest of the beer and placed it on the table, forgetting for the fleetest of moments about her headache.

"Yeah, god forbid you drink, god knows how terrible that ended up for you last time," she muttered into the empty glass under her breath.

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Gambit's Bar

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#2012-11-02 17:47:02, as written by Jag

As much as she'd pushed him toward it in just about every encounter they'd had for months, Vash wasn't entirely sure that she liked this assertive side of Gil. All this time and she still hadn't made up her mind about the boy. Then again, he was one of the few that hadn't eventually made his way around to trying to kill or arrest her, so he still had that going for him in the plus column.

"Maybe you should check that fancy computer of yours, then. That was a pretty nice little camera," she said to his back, flirting with the idea of a smirk that seemed to drive away a headache for a moment before sliding out of the booth and heading for the door. Hangover or not, Ava had a job for her and the woman didn't like to be kept waiting.

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#2012-11-08 01:41:25, as written by Jag

The hood of the white sweatshirt almost contained the mess of fiery red hair, but a few rebel strands managed to fight their way through and edge out in the space between the white fabric and the cream skin of the young woman. The only adornment to the sweatshirt was some strange foreign symbol and ran down under a deep dark blue pair of jeans hugging to the young woman's figure rounded out the look with a cut just above a pair of sneakers. Still comfort, but cries and cries above the hangover look she'd sported her last trip to the bar.

Vash stretched slowly as she entered, arms above her head pulling the sweatshirt up enough to reveal a flash of smooth midriff for a fleeting moment before the young woman abandoned the stretch and approached the bar, pulling back the hood and shaking loose the head of hair that stood in stark contrast to the fabric surrounding it.

"I'm thinking...beer," she said. Whether it was too herself or someone charged with actually fetching the drink remained to be seen.

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#2012-11-08 01:53:24, as written by Jag

Just as Vash allowed herself to pull up and slide down comfortably -- or as close to comfortable as anyone could possibly be on a bar stool -- the lump of drama with a topping of red hair to her right allowed his head to slump down to the table as he reached up, either to ask for God to smite him or for a drink. Either way, Vash couldn't help but tilt her head to the side slightly as she watched. Weird.

The declaration of affinity for barley and hops was apparently for her own benefit as surprisingly deft fingers found their way to a pad to order her own drink. She thought about the day. She thought about the upcoming night. She thought about -- Okay, what the hell is this guy doing?

"You...okay there, hoss?" She leaned over closer to him like a child leaning towards the glass of an aquarium, waiting to see if she was going to get in trouble for tapping the glass.

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#2012-11-08 02:08:10, as written by Jag

The burning smell caused her to close mantis green eyes for a moment. The lingering sensation of smoke and the invocation of fire and smoke triggered in her mind to the point that she almost felt her coughing reflex rise for the most fleeting of moments. So the guy was collapsed on the bar and smelled like he belonged splayed out on the grill in the back.

And then he started talking about kid arsonists.

"If that's a riddle or a pick-up line," she said, adjusting in her seat by pulling back but turning her body to face him with one arm sliding into the front pouch of the sweatshirt, "I'm going to need another drink before it's not...well...ya know...really creepy."

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Gambit's Bar

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#2012-11-08 02:24:21, as written by Jag

If there was one thing Vash took pleasure in, it was saying or doing something to take someone off guard and knock them out of their comfort zone for a moment of reality, for a moment to see that they were really alive. Ironic, yes, but true all the same. For a while it had been joyous to watch Gil squirm in just about any social situation, but that had grown stale. Now, BurnBoy was looking like fun for now. Anything to keep her mind off...well...nevermind.

"I will drink anything you order me so long as it is wet, cold, and not laced with drugs that will cause me to wake up in a basement and or warehouse," she said, flashing a smirk before jolting her head to the door at what she perceived to be the sound of someone entering. False alarm.

"Unless you were planning on burning this place down, in which case like...a two-minute warning would be fantastic."

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#2012-11-08 02:37:41, as written by Jag

Talking to the red-haired boy was like watching a horrible wreck. As gruesome as the pile-up may be and as much as you want to turn away, you simply cannot avert your eyes from the carnage. Only in this case it wasn't steel and flesh but words. Still, it was a wonderful and terrible wreck all the same. Vash adjusted herself in the seat and pivoted the stool away from the boy for a moment, fishing in the pouch for the pack of cigarettes she swore she'd brought with her. No joy.

"Good call, Burn Unit." The young woman seemed pleased with the impromptu nickname, grinning to herself as she glanced about the room for a moment.

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#2012-11-08 02:53:28, as written by Jag

Vash leaned forward slowly until the length of her fiery red hair fell forward in front of her. The others hated the red. It was unnatural to them, a break from the organic order and flow of the world. Now that was irony. Still, Vash liked been unique. Looking different, acting different, being her own person.

Burn Unit didn't seem too sure of her compliment-type-thing. Neither was she. Lifting her head up quickly, Vash jutted her bottom lip out and blew upward sharply to blow the hair from her face, although a few rebel strands remained to play at her face, namely sticking to her lip.

"Okay, it's either that, one of about a dozen other horribly insulting and humiliating names I'm going to come up with over the course of the evening, or you can give me a real name. I haven't decided what I want my name to be tonight."

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#2012-11-08 03:04:29, as written by Jag

Vash cupped the chilled glass with both hands and brought it to her lips eagerly. She wasn't keeping pace with Chris, but an impressive gulp of the glass knocked down at least a third of the brew before she placed it back down on the table. A respectable showing, she reckoned before wiping her lips with the sleeve of the white sweatshirt.

"Chris...Maxey..." She allowed the name to roll off her tongue and across her lips for a moment, rocking it back to the other side to take in the full flavor. "Maxey." It was clear now that she was racking her mind for something. A recollection, maybe. It was like trying to remember a dream -- there was definitely something there, but the harder you tried to remember, the fuzzier it became.

"All right then, Chris. You're buying me beer, so I guess that makes you the love of my life for the next however-long-the-drinks-keep-coming. And for that, you can call me Vash," she said, pulling back the sleeves of her sweatshirt, raising glass to lips again with the left hand while the right extended across the open stool between them to Chris.

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#2012-11-08 03:16:09, as written by Jag

Clicking her tongue on the top of her mouth with a pause, Vash slowly withdrew her right hand and took another sip of the beer, the intial chill of the glass gone thanks to the warmth of her hand and the rapid consumption of the cold wonder that sloshed inside.

"I'll...be right back," she said, sliding off the stool and fighting the urge to take one more drink. She didn't need it. That bad.

Wheeling around the corner of the bar, Vash manuevered past a few loose chairs and found her way to the restroom tuck away to the back of the bar. The place wasn't the cleanest and the mirror was warped to distort any image projected, but she still saw enough to lock into a staring match with mantis green eyes of the woman in the mirror.

"Just a job, Vash."

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Gambit's Bar

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#2012-11-08 03:27:10, as written by Jag

With the door locked -- not that she trusted that lock against a decent breeze if someone left a window open in the main bar -- Vash shed the white sweatshirt and stood before the mirror again, lifting her left hand to her face. It didn't take a trained eye to see that it was shaking. Slightly, but shaking all the same. Hidden beneath the white shirt was a black tank top shirt, a short runner of lace dipping beneath the collarbone and a matching runner rounding out the bottom of the shirt. Immediately, the cool air against her skin cause the young woman to chill, breathing in sharply before one more glare in the mirror.

"Re. Lax."

Sweatshirt tucked under her arm, she quickly rounded the bar and table and and hopped onto the stool, finishing the beer in one long swig.

"How's about another, Bur-- err...Chris?"

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#2012-11-08 03:45:21, as written by Jag

"...and you're back to the whole head on the counter thing. Okay, that's...that's cool," Vash said, rolling her neck back in a circular motion slowly to release the underlying pressue. Even hidden beneath the sweatshirt, the left hand had stopped shaking for now. That was a blessing -- if she believed in blessings.

"Here, I've got an idea," she said. With a flash, she was wheeling around the corner again, this time coming to stand behind the bar. The place was like a ghost town anyway and she didn't feel comfortable going this long without getting in some sort of trouble. Immediately, she dove beneath the bar and slammed a glass down in front of the boy's ducked head. Bottles and ingredients began to fly about as she put together a drink. If she had a plan, Vash was doing a good job of hiding it.

"There, it's..." Vash paused, tilting her head to the side to look at the two glasses in which she'd poured her creation. "It's...blue!"

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Gambit's Bar

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#2012-11-08 03:58:47, as written by Jag

The amusement of her creation and the energetic approach she'd taken to the moment bled away as she glared at Chris from behind the bar. Chris sat at the bar, eyes crossed and tongue sticking out as if he feared that Vash had somehow stolen it from him when she wasn't looking. Arms rose to cross over the chest as she continued the glare. Somehow, this guy was managing to make Gil look normal and that...that was no small feat.

"Oh. My. God." Arms fell down from her side as she leaned forward across the bar. "Just for that, you get to sit this round out," she said, grabbing a glass in both hands and downing each of the shots one after another, a deep breath between the two of them.

Her own eyes went cross-eyed for a moment from the strength and strange combination. "Holy fuck..."

Vash Laric

0 · 533 views · located in The Infinite Void

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Jag

So begins...

Vash Laric's Story

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