#bybullets

@bybullets sent: is all of that necessary?

"I DUNNO, ARE YOU OKAY WITH HAVING YOUR SKIN MELTED WITH CORROSIVE SALIVA? I didn't think so." Without elaborating further, Mari sets down another barrel bomb at the edge of the cavern wall. The barricade they had created to hold off the Deviljho outside could only remain for so long, and she could hear the thunderous roar of the monster, ramming its head against the other side. It was hungry. Deviljho are always hungry.

She had been in the middle of trying to figure out if they had enough funds for new supplies, whatever question she'd been meaning to ask the blond fizzling out on her tongue as he spoke up. There was some inkling that the heat blankets in the van needed tossed and replaced, Roberto desperately needed some better cleats for the damned ice patches that had about taken the old bastard out yesterday.

Hell she wanted to grab Vash some as well but it's forgotten to stare owlishly at him for a hot second.

Two.

Five.

It wasn't ever very difficult to rile Meryl up.

This was no different, he barely even looked smug as he said it. Her face warmed and she sputtered briefly at him, tossing up her palms and quickly burying herself back in the ratty basket she'd been digging through.

"Ugh- of course I am! Somebody's gotta be the best in this mess- what was I... ahh, hells..." Oh she hated his dumb cute face. Cheeks puff out as she squints back at him. No telling if he was being sincere or not.

It's combined protest and amusement, needled teeth flashing behind her lips with a struggling laugh, push and pull and lighthearted bickering.

"Cheating-!" She hissed once caught and held aloft, her palm pushing up on his chin. There wasn't much effort to hide the entertainment, they both had been 'cheating' in their little game, it was fair. Squirming didn't get very far, a few kicks, aimed away from him didn't fair much better, about as much as pushing which was moderately easy to just nudge off or twist away from.

A defeated huff could be considered a reward, grumbling and and going dramatically limp as if she could simply melt free. Dead weight in familiar grip. Granted, it wasn't much weight.

Happy New Year Smooches!

They don't get to bask in each other's company every change of the year, but when they do it is a soothing event in numerous ways. No restrained contact, no limitation on her end once she had knowledge she'd have his company for the celebration, hell, even more than just his. Not that she'd told him, extra jobs for a little extra spending money to account for the treats and drinks they all could enjoy.

Background laughter and bickering has a duo purring, listening, curled up in a warm nook. Twice now they've been lovingly scolded for the way their eyes reflect back at a peeking gaze and Fenix chortled quietly.

The jeering and counting and fussing of loved ones in their proximity is pleasant, cloying on the senses, blanketing most worry for the majority of the night.

The words he exhales against the curve of her jawline earns a humming return, ear flicking beneath semi recovered hair that's been off and on preened for the better part of a few hours.

Happy New Year Smooches!

Short or long, each little touch of affection like that tended to make Meryl's brain short circuit. Doesn't matter how cold bitten their lips are, wind worn and chapped from the icy onslaught outside. It's warm, enough to make her start to lean after him at the short-lived contact before her face blooms in embarrassed red, sputtering.

Long enough standing has her reaching forward to wrap her arms around his middle though, tucked under his, chin nestling on his sternum with a huff up at the offending outlaw. Perhaps it's partially to leech the warmth from him, just as much as it is to impart hers as diminutive as she is.

The nails poised over her scalp are sharp, vaguely curved, dark rooted into the quick of her fingers. As animalistic as the odd strands of hair she's bracing herself to tear apart yet again. It's hair, long and flexible and yet it is feather. Sleek, pristinely sectioned that with a correct edge could be separated and shredded to better resemble human locks. It isn't the happiest task, habit of nasty treatment over the years to avoid unwanted attention. Some could be excused for accessory, but too many built up plumes was enough to call working on.

But those digit's don't end up making contact, a grunt of protest and a low, dramatic whine of the outlaw's name reverberating more through her chest than her throat as she's tugged down. It's not easy to pretend to be upset with him, nor to hold onto it when the contrast of warm and cool arm coils about and settles her diminutive frame in firm place, barring her from the upsetting job. The awkward placement of her arms eventually dropping along his shoulders in rather easy defeat for the time being.

"...Sap." She rasps in absent exhaustion, the eye closest to his affectionate point of contact closing, the striping and spotting pattern along her facial features rippling down in a bio-luminescent pattern, delightfully visible from recent wash and just as little desire to conceal with procured makeup.

Invested, focused, it's a mans work some would complain, the display of a massive vehicular engine suspended for her inspection. He seems to have never cared about such trivial things, it's pleasant. With Vash being the only one in the borrowed workshop with her, visible claws pause at the break of white noise, radio static music droning on somewhere in the background.

A curved scrap of metal is tugged free, her nose turning up at the copious amounts of rust in it's interior and she tosses it in a bin, sweeping a gold green gaze over her company in amusement, wiping her striped hands clean of the reddened residue.

"Do I look good covered in grease and sweat too?" Playful edge ripples her tone, a good mood permeating her last task of the day as she retrieves a new part to replace the old.

No you wouldn't.

But she hoped he never would have the chance to prove himself right, or her wrong. It wouldn't be deserved, for him or herself. Enough had happened to him, she herself was fairly lucky in this life. Stars only knew how much she wished she could give him a stroke of that mundane calm for just a little while.

So his statement made audible in hushed privacy is met with a small smile, a tick of self control keeping her from shaking her head and instead reaching up to thread her fingers through that mess of sunny blond strands, drawing his head down to her shoulder.