Nicholas D. Wolfwood currently has a very limited number he is certain of. They are, in order of importance: his profession (a priest, of course - he even woke up dressed for it), his name (though...not what the "D." actually stands for), that something is deeply fucked up (inarguable), and that he lives in the desert. He doesn't think it was this area of desert, but he won't commit to that as a certainty. See: the depths to which things are currently fucked up.
As he walks around the town again, trying to shake anything else from his brain, he finds one more certainty. He is starving. Happily, there appears to be a place where he can fix that.
He gets two pieces of pie from the counter - one cherry and one key lime - on the pretense that one is for his friend over there in the booth. Maybe it will be! Nicholas has no idea what key lime even is, it could be terrible, but he's willing to try it.
He sits down across from whoever is sitting alone in a nearby booth with both plates and a wide smile.
"Hi!"
2. press x to doubt (outside the diner, nighttime)
FORGET YOUR WORRIES
Nicholas stands outside, looking up at the sign with distinct suspicion. Look, he may be missing his memory, but he's not stupid. If someone is telling you to forget your worries, it's because they're up to something worrisome.
That's not very forgiving of a priest, he guesses. But maybe that just means he's not a stupid priest.
Nicholas sighs. He'd been hoping, in the midst of insomnia, that he might at least get another slice of free pie. But he's definitely not going in there now. He reaches into an inside pocket and grimaces when he remembers it's empty.
"Hey, you got a cigarette?"
3. eye don't know
Nicholas stands in the middle of the hotel hallway, staring at the wall in front of him. Or, rather, staring at the pair of pale brown eyes looking out at him from it.
"Hey." He turns to whoever next approaches, and points at the eyes. "Do you see this?"
Nicholas D. Wolfwood | Trigun Maximum
Nicholas D. Wolfwood currently has a very limited number he is certain of. They are, in order of importance: his profession (a priest, of course - he even woke up dressed for it), his name (though...not what the "D." actually stands for), that something is deeply fucked up (inarguable), and that he lives in the desert. He doesn't think it was this area of desert, but he won't commit to that as a certainty. See: the depths to which things are currently fucked up.
As he walks around the town again, trying to shake anything else from his brain, he finds one more certainty. He is starving. Happily, there appears to be a place where he can fix that.
He gets two pieces of pie from the counter - one cherry and one key lime - on the pretense that one is for his friend over there in the booth. Maybe it will be! Nicholas has no idea what key lime even is, it could be terrible, but he's willing to try it.
He sits down across from whoever is sitting alone in a nearby booth with both plates and a wide smile.
"Hi!"
2. press x to doubt (outside the diner, nighttime)
FORGET YOUR WORRIES
Nicholas stands outside, looking up at the sign with distinct suspicion. Look, he may be missing his memory, but he's not stupid. If someone is telling you to forget your worries, it's because they're up to something worrisome.
That's not very forgiving of a priest, he guesses. But maybe that just means he's not a stupid priest.
Nicholas sighs. He'd been hoping, in the midst of insomnia, that he might at least get another slice of free pie. But he's definitely not going in there now. He reaches into an inside pocket and grimaces when he remembers it's empty.
"Hey, you got a cigarette?"
3. eye don't know
Nicholas stands in the middle of the hotel hallway, staring at the wall in front of him. Or, rather, staring at the pair of pale brown eyes looking out at him from it.
"Hey." He turns to whoever next approaches, and points at the eyes. "Do you see this?"