HIGH ROLLER !

Bird of Prey [Part I End]

A heavy case drags in the sand, leaving a long trail. The sun glares from overhead, enough to make the strongest wither. Slow, melodic humming echoes. The tune isn't that catchy— probably just from a mix of memories getting jumbled up.

Rebecca Valentine is assumed dead. Most if not all were dead from JuLai. Hardly any survivors found. Less than thirty percent actually. She couldn't get many of them out with her warnings.

Had she not warned anyone, maybe there wouldn't have been survivors. No witnesses to Vash's destruction of the city, turning it into a meteor sized crater overnight. Then he wouldn't have a historically high bounty of sixty billion double dollars on his head. But if the Gambler was dead, who was tough enough to take on that threat? The military hated to admit they banked on her stellar capture and collecting skills. They'd been missing it for two and a half years, and now hauling criminals was a tougher show without JuLai military as well.

No, I'm not dead. I'm retired... sort of. I'm just not trying to get booked by crooks anymore, cause when I do in a bunch of outlaws it gets their enemies attention. That's tedious, and I'm bored of it. Not enough thrills when you know exactly what's going to happen. I have enough money as is. I could probably do some real estate. Or a Ponzi scheme. But I didn't finish my job.

My golden prize. Vash the Stampede. Was he trying to be altruistic, leaving me in the ashes of JuLai, hide a monster like himself? I personally found it pretty rude. A girl, with her clothes burnt off and one hundred metres in the ground in hell on earth.

Could have at least woke me up. Or dragged me out before parting ways. Or even left a pack of cigarettes! All he left was his tattered jacket— hardly any comfort at all. Honestly— to leave me alone in a place I can't even begin to describe. I don't even want to. It was hell on earth. I don't know why or how we lived.

Well, I can't blame him for grieving. His ideal of preserving human life, shattered by one city's destruction. It wasn't his fault but... Could it have been helped? We waltzed into Knives' plans, and no one won in the end.

I know the Eye of Michael still exists, but it's better if they think I'm dead and don't mess with my people for the sake of it till I hunt them and wreck their asses. Nicholas has inkling that I'm alive, but I'm trying to keep a low profile as to not get him wrapped up into more of my proxy messes.

I wanted to go on vacation. Somewhere where no one knows my face, no one will follow me. Even if I went and found him, I don't think he would entertain his sister rising from the dead and telling him we need to go on vacation. I will send him a post card.

Its probably best everyone is left alone. The effects of JuLai can be felt throughout all the cities, it probably is better to lay low.

I had met the elusive mayflay called Vash the Stampede once, and I couldn't catch him in my net no matter how hard I tried. I don't know if I'd tried hard enough. It's a blight on my record of greatest bounty hunter alive.

This time, however, he'll be mine.

I wander into one of those dead towns, overrun by overlooked criminal activity but relatively quiet life. It is a perfect place to hide out. A good balance of chaos. Don't stir up trouble and no one will bother you. Although, I have no established reputation here so I can't know how far that will get me. But then, it's perfect for vacation. And I haven't vacationed in a century and a half.

I meander around it before settling on the saloon for a drink. It has been a long while since I've had a drink. I need it.

A dissonant piano note plays. Two, back and forth, with no real direction, no passion, probably someone who doesn't know how to play. I don't really stop humming my tune as I finally pick up my case properly so it doesn't drag against the wood. My cowboy boots still echo, I cross my one arm across my chest to appear small even though my airy, mid length dress (it's my vacation dress, of course), and long double braids make avoiding the wrong attention harder in the wrong way. Yet there's no need, it is eerily empty. I tip my head down with my new hat, (I miss my old one) trying to hide my face as I observe.