the human weapon

“hmph” -- van helsing

pulled straight out of steampunk london (wtf is a Cell Fone)

not overly sociable but he’s okay when you get to know him, I guess

dual wielding shotguns?  fuck yes.  can also somehow reload them with one hand because the two shotguns alone wasn’t cool enough

don’t let him cook for you because his version of edible is not for everyone

fought in the vampire war, killed some vampire friends unwillingly, now he sort of just wants someone to put him out of his misery

will take a bullet for his friends any day of the week, but good luck getting him to admit you’re friends aloud 

shoot first, ask questions later

People in the lobby of his condo had been frantically warning others not to stray into the mists.  They were raving about apparitions, perma-death, and other nonsense; he didn’t stick around long enough to get the full story, but the gist was: stay on the paths, and don’t go outside at all if possible.

Van Helsing didn’t care to heed their warnings as he wasn’t particularly worried.  His shotguns had finally been returned to him and he’d been stocking up on ammo -- whatever was out there was going to rue the day it ran into him, if such a thing happened.

He was heading out for his daily run -- guns strapped firmly to his back -- and dove into the mists without care.  The worst part was definitely the less than optimal field of vision; he wasn’t worried, but it was definitely annoying.  As Van Helsing jogged around a street corner as he came across a grisly, familiar scene.  He nearly tripped over his own feet as he came to a sudden stop; it was hard for him to formulate a single coherent thought as the memory played out in front of him.

His mother and younger brother were sprawled on the ground outside his childhood home.  Both of them had their heads bashed in to the point that their faces were barely recognizable.  Someone had also taken the opportunity to gut them like fish; their entrails hadn’t been removed by human hands, but clearly animals had recently been picking at the corpses.  Van Helsing looked up to see his past self entering the scene from the thick mist; he took a few staggering steps towards his family before collapsing on his knees.

Van Helsing regained enough senses to quickly back out of the scene, but he could still hear his own anguished screams echo through the fog.  He felt ill as he slowly walked away on wobbling legs.  That same memory played in his head most nights before he fell asleep, but something about seeing it -- it looking real -- seemed to shove years of repression to the side.  It was a new, gaping wound again.

His eyes were glazed over as he attempted to lurch back home; he unwittingly bumped into someone in his fugue-like state.  Van Helsing blinked as his vision cleared again; oh, he knew her.

He can’t help but smile at that comment. “Overcompensating? I’m inclined to agree.” The joke immature as it was, was funny. Mouri appreciated the empathy either way. The era of fighting him was a difficult one. Not many people appreciated his effort. Unbeknownst to most though, some of that  was kind of on him. 

Mouri nodded. “I see. You seem respectful. I would have enjoyed working with someone like you.” He would win every fight with him under his armies belt. That made him smile a little more. Aki’s prosperity would be ensured so long as he  was alive. 

To see he was tricked though.  Ah he wouldn’t ever do it again? Of course. God forbid it be easy for him when he got back home. He sighed and brushed his hair back. “I see, I’m sorry to hear that.” He said simply. “What you have to offer will be valuable here though at least.” 

He clarified. “I was a warlord, to be transparent with you. Mouri Motonari is what they called me.” One of the main ones during the warring states era in the 1400′s to be correct. 

“Warlord?  Now that’s a phrase that doesn’t get thrown around often.”  He must be from a time far older than Van Helsing’s own.  “Motonari is Japanese, correct?”  Learning the techniques of past military ventures had been part of their curriculum while he had been in school with Twilight.  Both Japan and China had a long history of various warlords fighting one another for control of their countries.

“I don’t fault people for partaking in war themselves.  It can be necessary; mine was a false war, but not all of them are.  Especially if you’re fighting tyrannical government powers.”  Which he would be doing himself had he not ended up here.  “There’s honor in fighting for what’s right.  I can’t make judgements one way or the other.”  Van Helsing didn’t know what sort of warlord Mouri might be, so he attempted to tread carefully.

“My name is Abraham Van Helsing; most simply call me Van Helsing.  There are few in my life who called me by my first name.”  He wouldn’t call it a privilege.  Actually, he was fairly sure that people were afraid that he would be upset if he were addressed with his first name.  Formalities didn’t really matter to him anymore.

“ Oh yes. The previous world I was in was the same so I do understand. “

Kingdom of Romani was also rather technologically behind, perhaps due to magic. He couldn’t say they washed the clothes or if they used spells or if it was a mix of such things however.

“ There’s no reason you can continue to handwash them but in the long run washing machine is much handier. . “

There’s no need to confuse the man with the introduction of all the types so Seiichirou grabs the liquid detergent. Two of them - for coloured and dark clothes while continuing to glimpse the man’s clothes.

“ Organize the clothes according to the colour. The only thing you need to remember not to do is to not mix of light clothing. The darker ones may dye lighter shades. “

“ As for washing temperatures…. “

Seiichirou pauses, tilting his head in contemplation. The issue of wash tags… With no machines such things wouldn’t be attached. 

“ Perhaps low temperature could do. That suit jacket however requires dry cleaning so you should find a service for such things…..”

He turns to the man.

“ Keeping up? I’m keeping it barebones since you can always read further into it. “

He had attempted to find washing boards to handwash at home, but they couldn’t be found in antique malls in rather...rough condition.  It seemed wiser to ‘get with the times’ since he didn’t know how long he would be stuck here.  It was a relief to hear that the other man was at least slightly understanding of his struggle.

“Don’t mix colors -- makes sense.”  Even back home they at least washed the whites separate from the rest.  Van Helsing didn’t want his dress shirt to turn green or brown from the colors mixing in the machine; although it was quite annoying that this was a problem in the first place.

He quirked an eyebrow at the mention of washing temperatures -- that hadn’t occurred to him yet.  “I suppose I used warm water for washing, but the water doesn’t stay warm for an overly long period of time...low temperature is probably ideal.”  At least until he understood what the different temperature settings even meant.

“ Hmm…  Well, if you don’t mind then I’ll take it but…“ he says, pausing in contemplation.

“ I see.. So you’re not familiar with them. “

Thinking about it even in the kingdom of Romani there were no washing machines, so perhaps this man came from similar world. It’s no surprise he’d be lost on the countless options. Admittedly in Japan he only had loungewear and suits to clean but he still had a good grasp of it all.

Seiichirou glimpses at his clothes. He wouldn’t feel comfortable just letting him do whatever, that suit jacket definitely requires dry cleaning.

“ Um. If you don’t mind I have some time… If you need help that is.  “

The appraising look wasn’t lost on Van Helsing.  Ah, perhaps he was in worse shape than he originally thought.  He wasn’t the type to ask for help, but when the man was offering...it probably wasn’t wise to turn him down.

He let out a small sigh.  “It’d be foolish of me to refuse help.  Where I’m from, washing is mostly done by hand.  I’ve yet to find similar machinery that I’m used to so I’ve quickly realized I needed to learn how it’s done here.  Apparently it’s quicker, at any rate.”  Van Helsing looked at the wide range of products laid out before them.

Ah yes. He doesn’t know the context. “His real name is Oda Nobunaga. We called him the Demon King due to his cruel nature, horn like helmet, his tendency to drink from human skulls and of course…him often boldly declaring himself as such.” 

He nods. “I see. Those would have been useful.” Shooting an enemy in a head before they became an issue. That would be best, he thought. Mori nodded looking down at his own cell phone in his front pocket. “It’s a relatively straight forward mechanism for the most part. Just a few eccentricities. I’m amazed we come this far as time wears on.” 

This was one thing he liked about Isola. When you knew where to look there was always something new to learn. Knowledge, his other favorite thing other then tactician work. War plans and the like. It was the Inter Webs that was more complicated. So many contradictory answers. He stopped trying a week after he arrived.

Mori watched his final move and looked over his shoulder. “Sounds like an easy way to stoke the flames of conflict, yes…” He looked back at me. “You seem to understand. Tell me, are you some sort of war general?” he asked. He definitely carried himself that way. 

“Drinking from a human skull?”  He snorted as he held back a laugh.  For some reason he could almost picture Finis doing that himself.  “I suppose if you’re attempting to look as intimidating as possible...but I think that sounds just a bit stupid.  Someone that refers to themselves as the Demon King is very obviously compensating for something.”

Maybe it was just him, but he found it hard to believe that people who actually had military prowess would need to do that much convincing to get others to believe in their might.  Or maybe things were just that much different where the other man was from; it seemed to be quite hit or miss as he’s learned from conversating with others.

Van Helsing froze as the man asked him if he had been a general.  He pondered it for a second; he meant no harm in asking.  What could he possibly know about the Vampire War.

“Not a general per se...although they did consider me a war hero.  I was a very important player in a war that occurred back home; I’m the reason it ended early.  I was part of an elite branch of our military that didn’t exactly have specific positions, but I was considered to be one of the best -- I suppose.  After they awarded me for ending the war, I left.  It had been a farce the entire time, but I didn’t know until it was too late.”

It wasn’t that she had anything against him for being a person of military status, it was more of the mention of war, really. War wasn’t something she hadn’t really liked thinking about, especially since she was personally dragged into one herself, although Jinako supposed there’s a big difference between the one he was talking about, and the one she’s been through.  “… Oh, I have nothing against you doing that– I just don’t like the idea of warfare… or war in general. It’s a touchy topic.“ For a lot of good reasons, but she could understand what the man had been going through. In a lot of ways, she could say the same for herself, although… she really joined the Moon Holy Grail War, for merely selfish reasons.

… The option to go back to in time, huh? Wasn’t her wish for the grail to redo her life? Yikes, there’s too many similarities, right now and she’s very much not liking it. “… Guess so. You at least got skills in the first place and be able to use them, in the very least.“ Ugh, this was depressing and now she just wants to go home. She stands up from her seat. “Alright, I’m leaving. What about you?“

It was a touchy subject for him too -- at least, the Vampire War was.  Her rather vague response in regards to his skills was intriguing; the implication that she too had been involved in something, but without proper fighting skills was something that he found interesting.  Although it occurred in the back of his slightly inebriated mind that it wasn’t a smart idea to bring it up.

He glanced at the group of men at the pool table and clanked his water back on the bar after taking a huge swig.  “Yes, I think I’m ready to go as well.  I don’t think I can listen to them for much longer without being driven to insanity.”  Van Helsing stood up as well and shouldered his BB gun; he double timed it to the front door and instantly sobered up the moment the cold air outside hit his face.

“Er, no. Thanks for offering, but no thanks. I don’t want to cause more trouble than necessary.” By this time, she’s already finished drinking more than a few, but she’s still seemingly okay. Nothing seems to be bothering her that much, and yawns.

Sure the men were a bit noisy and annoying, but they aren’t bothering her in particular. If anything they just ignored her. Which was fine.

She turns back to her … unfortunate companion and stares, while turning back to her empty glass. “Oh, I see, you’re a military man.” Jinako doesn’t say anything more than that, but it did seem like her facial expression was grim than before. 

The displeasure was practically rolling off of her despite her otherwise muted reaction.  The bartender had apparently decided that Van Helsing needed a water and plopped a glass next to his hand that was laid on the counter.  He took a drink without looking.

“I didn’t do it out of love for my country.  I needed money -- the military pays decent enough, so I could send money back to my mother and brother.”  He glowered at the men playing pool as he gulped more water.  “I left shortly after they...passed away.  I had no reason to stay, and I found I could make money other ways.”  He folded his arms in a slightly childlike pose.

“Was it that obvious?” 

He takes another shot. He wants to see if he can get more. Though part of him is kind of trying to do it, he doubts he’ll be able to beat the marksman. Guns were not commonplace where he was from and he was at a disadvantage. 

“Guns are not the most common where I’m from, no. Only Oda Nobunaga and a few others have brought them into the field. It’s normally frowned upon. Considered a cowards move, especially in the Demon King’s case.” He calls the other by his old nickname. 

“I’m not entirely inclined to call it a cowards move, though. If I had them, I’d use them. So I’m also out of the technological loop.” He shoots again. “Though I’m not proud of it. I’m catching up. Quickly.” He’s sure to let the other know that in case he thinks he can get over on him. Old war mentality and all that. 

“...the Demon King?  Interesting nickname.”  Van Helsing looked down at the two darts he has left then back up at the wall.  He needed to be a bit more tactical with the last two balloons.  “Firearms are just more a significantly more powerful bow -- it’s easier to take out a target from a distance, and usually more safe as well.”

He popped another balloon.  As he picked up the last dart, he quirked an eyebrow at the hidden implications behind the others words.  “If it’s any comfort, there’s many people who are just as clueless about the strange technology here.  I can’t fault you for attempting to catch up.”  He was also trying to catch up; he’d yet to master the Inter-Net after it had been unlocked on his Cell Fone.

His last dart arced beautifully.  The rather bored looking teen running the booth smacked on the bubble gum in his mouth as he handed over a shoddily made teddy bear.  Van Helsing handed it to the child to his left that had been desperately trying to pop a balloon throughout his conversation with the other; the kid immediately scampered off with a grin on his face.

“No, I think it’s going to get better.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s how it was for me. At first, I was so unhappy, but I didn’t even know it. The only thing I cared about were my grades, because I never had friends to show me how to care about anything else.” 

Amity sighed. “Then, I met her, and things changed. I was feeling a lot of weird feelings, and I wasn’t acting like myself anymore. A lot of that was happiness, and I didn’t even know it.”

Maybe he was going to meet someone who made him feel that way too. It was a much better fortune than constant misery like he and this city predicted. 

Amity’s heart pounded as she drew the next card. She breathed in relief as she placed it down and saw the picture of the blooming flower.

“Yes! That’s fantastic!” She grinned. “That’s a really good sign. I think love is closer than you think! Come on, you must have details you wanna share? Even if it’s just in a diary—try writing them down. You don’t have to tell me.”

Amity stared at him wide eyed, wishing very much that he would tell her. 

Her story was maybe a little too familiar; it almost made him laugh.  Amity definitely reminded him of himself at the same age.  Although he did have the feeling they would absolutely detest one another if they had met.  Van Helsing nodded sagely as she mentioned her newfound happiness.

“When you’ve rarely been happy in the past it feels very strange to experience it constantly.  I’m glad your...friend has helped you.”  He had an inkling that they weren’t just ‘friends’, but he didn’t want to put her on the spot.  “I assume she’s also here?  I have a feeling you wouldn’t be in such a good mood if she weren’t.”

She seemed anxious but excited as she drew the next card from her handmade deck.  Van Helsing was glad to see if was a good card; that clearly negated all the negativity from the previous pull.  As she insisted she didn’t need to reveal his love life to her, it was very obvious she was hoping he’d tell her anyway.  He thought about it for a moment; gossiping about each others love lives in the library felt very teenagerish to him -- although she was a teenager, he supposed.

Former place of work, Yggdrasil echoes with a nod, then scrutinizing the portrait. The woman bears herself regally, her extravagant dress and her place on the throne making it all the more apparent. Neither the older nor younger man flanking her show familial resemblance. 

Yggdrasil cants her head and looks the man beside up and down, assessing. Strong constitution, no visible weapons. But she thinks that he is poised for something. You worked for royalty? she inflects in question. What sort of work did you do? A pause. Her smile grows sheepish. If it is unpleasant to recall, you need not answer.

As her eyes steadily comb through the portrait again, she chuckles like wind-chimes, Whether or not it is worthy is not for you alone to judge… even though you are likely more knowledgeable than anyone else in this city when it comes to this. 

To the primal, it’s just a portrait. Pigments organized on a canvas, like many other works hung on this wall. Different from the storybook in her skirt, from sculptures, from film. She can’t begin to wonder at the museum curator’s choices, unversed in art as she is. Her brow furrows for an instant, before smoothing into her usual genial look. Then: What makes the others worthy?

“In a manner.  You could say I worked for the state, which requires I work for royalty.”  He mused whether he could -- or should -- continue with his answer, but in the end decided it didn’t matter one way or the other.  Van Helsing lightly sighed.

“I was in the military, although I was part of an elite group within the military.”  He pointed at the young boy in the portrait.  “That is Finis; despite appearing young, he was in charge of Twilight.  He and Queen Victoria,” he shifted his focus to the woman in the center of the portrait, “did many terrible things; things I couldn’t agree with anymore.  So I left shortly after they crowned me a war hero.”  He winced at the thought.

“The portrait doesn’t hold many good memories, for me and for thousands of people they harmed.  But they’re not here.  As far as I’m concerned, this place is safer than home.”  He finally folded his arms and shrugged.  “As far as portraits go, it’s very accurate.  But I don’t believe it has much artistic merit, I guess.”

When she posed her next question, he became quite contemplative.  Perhaps she was right, and others who came here to see artwork from their own home would feel the same as him.  “I don’t think any of us get to decide what’s worthy and what isn’t.  It’s the same back home; the curator decides what should be shown to the public.”  Van Helsing tilted his head as he looked at the painting next to the portrait; it was quite different in subject matter, but he wondered if it held the same painful memories to someone else trapped here.

“Often some people like being alone while drinking and not be judged for what they do in said places.” She gives a cold look, seemingly annoyed. She considers ditching this place and move on, but she watches anyways.

Well, that was quite a show, she’ll admit that – and he did have great skills, for this trick-shot. However, the glass broke, and she couldn’t help but feel sorry for the waitress.

Jinako claps.

“Wow, amazing. You broke a glass!” She remarks. “I’ll hand it to you, you do know your stuff.”

He decided to ignore the obvious sarcasm in her voice and take it as a normal compliment.

“Well there’s not exactly a lot of targets in a bar.  Unless you want me to nail one of the irritating men playing pool in the ass.”  They were being quite rowdy, and the noise was giving him a headache.  Or was it the alcohol?  Now he wasn’t sure.

     Anastasia neatly folded her hands in her lap and gave a pleasant smile to try and lighten the mood. Even if her shoulders slightly still shook from how unpleasant it was to see another gun again soon from beig shot.

     “They’re fun for anyone- even a boring late 20 year older or so.” The smile dropped to a more neutral expression. Was everyone unable to take a joke here?

       “Swords I dare say are much better than guns. You can see them coming unlike a bullet. They’re not as alarming and easier to get away from,”She quieted. “Is the city that dangerous you need two of them? Or are you just paranoid that some random bystander is going to duel you?”

He supposed her assessment on swords was correct, but he took fault with her assertion that they were ‘better’.  “If by better you mean that they’re easier to dodge, but I suppose you’re correct.  The point of a weapon is to protect oneself, and I’d say a weapon that is less easily avoidable is the better weapon.”  This wasn’t even worth arguing, but for some reason her ‘holier-than-thou’ attitude was irritating him.

This guys obviously looked like he couldn’t hold his drink and this wasn’t the position she wants to be in right now. She just wanted to drink maybe a couple of pints, not stuck with some guy who can barely tolerate… perhaps… like a glass??? Like man, this guy is going down, but he wouldn’t bugging her about the trickshots, so she might as well give in. Just to at least get him off her back.

“First of all, I wasn’t drowning my sorrows, I was enjoying my drink. Rude! Second of all, get on with it, buddy! Show your stuff, since you’re so eager to show me your trick shots!“

“If you’re at a bar without friends then you’re drowning your sorrows.  People don’t go to bars to stare at the wall and drink alone when they’re happy.”  He offered her a less than delicate smile as he whipped his BB gun out of its holster on his back.

“Observe.”  Van Helsing pointed to a lone glass sitting on an empty table.  “From off the ceiling.”  Without looking, he fired the BB gun.  The pellet ricocheted off the brick ceiling and shattered the glass; a waitress that was cleaning up a nearby table let out a loud sigh and shuffled off to the back.

      She was shocked at first for his approachment at the 10 minute mark. Although she definitely should have seen it coming- still the guts on this man. Her face moved to neutral rather from the burning stare she had momentarily. The closer he got the outfit he wore looked like that of a hunter.  

     “I apologize,I simply thought we were playing a game,” she paused a quiet giggle at her own joke. “A joke. I was wondering why one would need not one- but two guns out this early in broad daylight.”

Van Helsing quirked an eyebrow at her comment; he folded his arms and gave her an appraising look.

“A game?  Staring contests are usually reserved for children under the age of ten.”  He clicked his tongue at the second half of her explanation.

“The sun stands for peace, warmth, and happiness.” Amity recited, glad they had such a good one to start. She’d hate to draw either one she couldn’t recall the whole meaning to, or worse, one with a bad omen. 

She was feeling a tad more confident, flicking the corners of the deck up and down with her thumb before drawing the next card. She kept it face down, trying to infer its power the way her mother did, but she didn’t feel much. 

“A minimum of five cards for a fortune.” Amity said. “With an additional two able to be inferred upon at the end, if you still have answers you seek. Some people can take a solid guess at their fortune from the first three cards, but only fools run with that without seeing the final two, at least.”

Amity placed the second card down, blinking in surprise at the sight of the full moon card. 

“The moon? But—” Amity looked back at her deck. Had she done it wrong? No. “The full moon is a sign of misfortune or instability in the mental state. Looking at these two cards side by side, they seem like polar opposites, but I honestly think it makes sense, given where we are.”  

Van Helsing nodded politely at her explanation.  She -- at minimum -- took this fortune telling quite seriously, which he found a bit endearing.  Whether or not he was going to believe her was still up for debate; he was just along for the ride at this point.

He held back at snort at her affronted expression upon drawing the next card.  “Misfortune and mental instability?  Yes, I’d say that describes most people who’ve just arrived.  It’s a strange and unpleasant adjustment.”  For a moment he considered the two cards; he leaned forward and steepled his fingers.

“Perhaps the misfortunate will turn into happiness?  Or is it the opposite, I was happy and now I’m wallowing in self pity?”  It was only a half joke; he was still wallowing in self pity -- if just a little bit.  “If it’s a fortune about my love life then it’s not looking too great for me.”  A wry smile played on his lips for a moment.