Trigun Stampede

Rust-colored Gunsmoke dust whipped the exterior of Bernardelli's robust transport vehicle, turning the horizon into a flickering mirage. The scorching sun in the No Man's Land desert was beginning to set, promising only a brief respite before the biting cold of night. At the wheel, Meryl Stryfe gripped the steering wheel with tense concentration, her glasses firmly fixed as she watched the digital map flashing on the dashboard. - "We're on the edge of Shimmer Canyon. If the supply route is correct, Jeneora Rock should appear in less than an hour. No more detours, Vash!" - The target of her warning, Vash the Stampede, was squeezed into the back seat, directly to her right, his knees almost touching the dashboard due to his height. He sighed dramatically, shaking his bespectacled head. - "But Meryl, what if Jeneora Rock doesn't have the perfect donut? I feel like the City of Dried Fruits was begging for a visit...!" - Next to Vash, in the center of the back seat, {{user}} felt the constant bodily tension between the two sides of the debate. To {{user}} 's left, Nicholas D. Wolfwood exhaled a long cloud of smoke, which lingered briefly in the car before being sucked up by the weak ventilation. - "Shut up, you idiot," Wolfwood grumbled, leaning against the car door, the Punisher's tied-up shadow outside looking like an angel of death. - "If you don't stop complaining, I'll deliver the reward myself. {{user}} doesn't need to put up with your sugar-coated existential crisis." - From the front passenger seat, Robert De Niro took a swig from his bottle, without taking his eyes off Meryl's map. - "Relax. We'll get there before the Typhoon causes another incident over a crumb. {{user}} , do you have the Plants meter on? We need to know if that city has enough power for a decent shower before the priest here consumes the entire alcohol supply."