|Eriks (stampeded) wrote in clockwork_rp,|
@ 2008-01-11 21:33:00
|Entry tags:||bridge::butteryranger, vash::stampeded|
Motto of Life [ Complete ]
Who: Vash (stampeded) and Bridge (butterytoast)
What: Crying Plants and disgruntled Rangers that Need a Hug.
When: Late evening. After Bridge's "emo" exchange with Vash.
Where: Room 321, B.
Warnings: Sappy cheering up progress? :|
The Stampede slumped down in front of his computer, looking rather like a defeated puppy. The wall had repaired its self when he hadn't been looking, but a room in one piece didn't make up for what he'd just 'learned.' As in. Well. Alright. So, apparently, there were worse things people could do to themselves than a bullet to the brain. (Given, that was horrible, too, but still. Drawn out, scarring pain. Yuck.) It was rather depressing - and while the more hardened side of his mind was scuffing like it always did when he got moody, the more dominant other half was wailing its metaphorical head off. He wasn't quite sure where Bridge had gone too; but he had to come back sooner or later, right? It /was/ his room, after all...
Bridge opened the door, peeking in with a smile. His fluffy hair is even more disheveled than normal, sticking out in every which direction, and his eyes have a tiredness in them that sleep can't cure... but his smile is back, that huge grin that defines him. He's wearing his uniform, and has his laptop tucked under his arm. "Hello?"
Vash hadn't been looking at anything, really, and he had been expecting Carson to show up - but he still managed to look startled when the uniformed man walked in, straightening his back and turning to the Ranger quickly(a little much so, for a human). "Bridge! You're not dead!" Such comforting first words, huh? He took in the tired man's stature, his smile turning down just slightly ino a frown, but it went right back soon enough.
"Of course I'm not dead," Bridge chirped, coming in and setting his laptop on his desk. "I told you I wasn't going to do that! But most people who heard about emo kids from my time would have assumed I was going to hurt myself, if they took me seriously, which I didn't expect you to, but you did, so... Sorry."
Was he -? Why, yes, he was - somehow - tearing up a bit. "Life's not something to joke about," the gunman and supposed murderer of thousands enthused sincerely, and if the tone was slightly whiny, well, don't blame him. Curses or not, it seemed like the Hotel was /helping/ his mind get put back together, whereas others would've (or did) break in this sort of situation. Kidnapping, that was.
Bridge frowns. "Eriks, cutters don't kill themselves," he notes. "They just hurt themselves. Repeatedly." He walks over to his roommate. "But I was just reassuing you that I wasn't doing that. I mean... it probably looked like I would, with the walls."
"That's better?" Now he was sounding either affronted or utterly puzzled, though it did sucessfully distract him from the last comment Bridge gave. The Stampede's infamous mood swings happened once more; he blinked owlishly at the Ranger, curious dispite himself. "Why wou-- well, ok, attention, but that's just..." Vash actually flinched. "As bad as suicide, y'know?" Nasty. Period.
"Yeah. Which is why I'm not doing it." Bridge frowns.
"That's good," The Plant nodded, smiling for a moment. ... And then he spoke, sounding slightly suspicious. "... So what helps sad people get happy again?" He knew, of course - but if Bridge's people cut themselves, who knew what else they did?
Bridge offers a huge smile. "I always pretend that I'm happy!" But his eyes are still sad.
The Stampede started to frown himself. "So you're never happy?" He sniffed, looking once more like the metaphorical kicked puppy.
Bridge shakes his head. "No no no no! Sometimes I'm genuinely happy, but when I'm not I pretend to be. And eventually I forget I was ever sad."
Vash puzzled over that for a moment, scarily reminded of... well, someone. Not himself, of course - he could barely recall what being sad felt like. But after figuring out exactly what Bridge had sad, the Plant was on his feet and right in front of the Ranger, tears starting to build once more. "That's no way to live! This emo stuff doesn't sound very nice, either." The last part was mumbled as an after-thought, though still audible.
Bridge suddenly moves to take Vash into his arms, although he's careful not to make contact skin to skin. "It's okay, it's okay. I'm fine," Bridge lies reassuringly. "Sadness is just a part of life, and I'm better now." That part, at least, is not a lie.
The Stampede blinked, limp for a moment before reacting like a mother would. That was, a crushing hug returned to the light one Bridge had given - and with the hieght difference, if the Ranger was taken off the ground, well, at least he could still (hopefully) breathe. "Liar," was muttered softly in an undertone, though with the way the Plant had a happy grin on his face, it could've just been some trick of... wind. "So no more cutting~?" Sing-song, of course, though he still hadn't let go.
Bridge gasped and choked a bit, flailing. "No more, none!" he insists, squirming like a cat who doesn't want to be picked up.
"'Kgood," The Plant piped in one word, though it took another moment and tight hug until he let go, floundering backwards with an all-too-cheery grin. "You should just remember the words of life, my friend~" A nod and folding of the arms, as though the little 'hug' hadn't happened.
Bridge stood for a second, as if trying to recover his bearings. Then he blinked and nodded. Then he paused again. "Wait. What?"
Peltted: The Stampede stayed with his tear-free face and All-Knowing stance. "The philosphey of life."
There was a pause. A stare. And then, finally, in a you-should-know-this voice. "Love and peace, Bridge. That's all you need. Really."
Bridge grins, and it reaches his eyes just a little more than before. "Love and peace. That's it, alright."
"Exactly," The Plant professed, raising one pointer finger and acting as though /he/ were the preacher. "It works! Even in the middle of gunfights." The way he was talking, it was like he was about to hand out phamplets, too.
"I"ve never had ti work in the middle of a gunfight," Bridge notes. "But you seem to be a lot better at stuff than I am, so..."
"At /that/ stuff," The Stampede corrected with emphasis, shrugging his shoulders awkwardly and glancing to the side. "But, yeah, haha... You could say I've gotten into more than a few..." If the ten pounds of metal holding him together was any measurement, at least. A sheepish laugh, and Vash glanced back, taking a step back to lean casually on the wall. "Sooo." Pause. "What's your favorite color?" Hey - roommates were supposed to know this stuff! And what better time, right?
Bridge blinked. "Haha, someone who didn't just assume it was red just because I always wear it!" Bridge grinned. "Blue, actually. Favorite color is blue. But I like Green a lot too. I'm just a primary kind of guy."
Well, what do you know. Someone who knew his primary colors of light. Earth was all too educated compared to Gunsmoke. "Blue's real nice," The Stampede agreed, smile toning down to a pleasent grin. "- Have you ever owned any pets?" Random, maybe, but at least they were being more than just two people in the same room.
"Yup! I had a couple dogs before I joined academy." Bridge sat down, smiling, and took off his uniform jacket. "What about you?"
It was rather funny; the Stampede could still wear his giant trench coat when most had already shed down to two layers after the heat had kicked in. "Pets?" He thought for a moment, before saying with a slight hitch in the middle, "A cat followed me around a lot. ... Maybe a few - butterflies and spiders, if you can count them." Another nervous 'heh,' before he jumped right into the next, utterly random topic. "Night, day or inbetween? - Favorite time, I mean."
"Oh, day, definitely! But not morning. Ick."
"Same here~ Everything's a lot brighter in the day." And moons with giant craters didn't show up, either. Now he had to think for a moment - common questions that could spur up a good friendship were either about the local herd of tomas, how good of an aim you were, how many cities you'd gotten too and what type of gun you preferred. And scars. Sadly, those didn't seem to be appropriate. "Did you do anything besides be a Ranger? For a job."
Bridge shook his head. "That is my job. Hey, have you eaten?"
"Never a paper boy, huh?" The Stampede grinned, before shaking his head. "Nope. It's..." A quick glance at the clock and holy. "Way past dinner! Is the cafeteria even open?" Hysteria, meet Vash.
"Yeah. Wanna continue this over dinner?"
"Why not~? You're payi-... Oh. Yes please!"
The ranger laughed. "Come on, roomie. Let's eat!"