milliways_bar | (no subject)

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[Out of Milliways: Major Briggs has a bad feeling, and Harry Truman gets bad news.]

His black eye is fading, and the cut just under his eye is healing. On its own.

Cooper has a chess set at a table, and he's brooding over it.

If, of course, by 'brooding' you mean 'eyeing it while he drinks his coffee'.

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He suddenly turns very much shifty. "Uh, just call me Vash. What's your name, sir?"

"Dale Cooper."

Lawman senses -- ENGAGE!

"Being Bound is a curse?"

"Well, that was the impression I got when I was first told about it. I tend to wander around a lot, and the idea of being stuck here made me pretty uncomfortable at first. but when they've got all you can need, and so many interesting people, what more can you ask for?" He leans back and puts his hands up behind his head, smiling contentedly.

"What more indeed." Cooper smiles, and raises his cup of coffee to Vash before drinking. "How long has it been?"

"Ehehehehe... a day or two, as far as I can tell. I just found what looked like a random bar along the road I was traveling, and whaddya know? Next thing, I'm here."

"Time gets a little loose in here," says Cooper wisely. "If nothing else this place is a great laboratory for exploring the nature of reality."

"I've had long enough to ponder that question. I switched over to nature of Good vs. Evil a long time ago, and how to create total harmony for everyone."

"What conclusions have you drawn?"

"Nothing yet. Still working on how just one can exist. But the only think I seem to have reached is that no matter how hard I personally try, everyone else has to work with me on the harmony thing."

"You wouldn't call yourself a Cartesian thinker?"

"Not so much... though it'd help if I knew what you were talking about."

"A French philosopher by the name of Rene Descartes, who postulated that you really can't prove the existence of others, and that the possibility that I'm dreaming you is one that should be considered. He was a skeptic."

"Huh. He might have been fro a really long time ago then. We don't have a lot of what's left from when we left Earth." Vash scratches his head. "Nah, my only real philosophy of any sort is basically that no one has the right to kill or hurt others."

"Seventeenth-century France," says Cooper, almost absently. "That's a good, solid groundwork." Beat. "You left Earth behind?"

Vash laughs nervously. "Well, I never really gopt to see it in the first place. I was raised on a ship carrying all humans away from Earth. They'd exhausted all the resources and basically killed the planet before they realized what they were doing."

"...really." Cooper seems mildly taken aback. "What year?"

"Well, the best guess I've got, it was sometime around 2600 or 2700 in Earth years. We kinda reset the calendar when we hit Gunsmoke."

"Marshal Dillon?"

"...No, I'm Vash. Or is that your name?" Vash blinks, obviously brutally confused.

"No -- a television show. Called Gunsmoke. It had a character named Marshal Dillon."

"Oh."

Heartbeat. "What's a television?"

"A dramatic production, recorded and broadcast to small machines that project the image of the players."

Barely a beat before the definition.

"Wow. I think that's probably somewhere amongst the ruins of the ships somewhere. We lost a lot of the tech we were going to use to settle wherever we ended up when most of the ships crashed."

Everytime he explains that, he's reminded why he's got to catch and stop Knives. He can't be allowed to roam free and dangerous to the people after what he did.

"Are you still on the rest of the ships?"

"Uh, no. Some of them landed safely. Those folks all set up towns and cities and all that civilization."

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tibetanmethod - 2006-04-11 07:43 (UTC) - Expand

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legendaryoutlaw.livejournal.com - 2006-04-11 07:52 (UTC) - Expand

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