TRAINER VASH SPOTS WILD TWINS. PREPARE FOR BATTLE.
A place like this was not something Vash the Stampede could accept.
If anyone looked hard enough, they'd find not dead 'mindless soldiers' but coma-ridden men or women, unconscious but not dead. Never dead. If anyone from the Hotel paid close enough attention when they ventured around Vash's 'command area,' they might have noticed the people they killed weren't quite killed enough. Sure, the soldiers were rather... dull when it came to strategy (rushing in and fighting was not a plan), but a stray bullet could sometimes do a lot more damage than a dead-on one.
Not that Vash's bullets were anything but dead-on. Then again, he didn't use his own Colt often; it swung from his mechanical hand as free as anything, but the chamber was practically full. Redirecting attention was what Eriks was after, and that was... what he did.
Until he happened to run into a group of four people he knew fairly well.
"Ah! Is lunch over already?"
The tone was sheepish, stumbling blood-stained through the wreckage to the posed girls, back bent like an old man and gloved hand rubbing anxiously at his neck. He was careful not to step on any bodies, missing heads or not, eyes squinted behind yellow glasses to the point it was a wonder he could even see where to go. His head was a'buzz, hurting for some reason (it'd started hurting ever since day-one, and the numerous deaths weren't helping), and the fall in his own reaction time- in his "Plant side's" power- had been noticed right away. Something was hindering them all. Not enough to keep Cloud and Nero from doing what they seemed to enjoy, or the twins from bouncing around like a beachball between two Sand Worms. But, still. The 'war' made it seem all too much like Gunsmoke.