On The First Day

[nml_mods]

It had been months.

Months of terror, of families ripped apart, refugees racing against the Ark in the sky, against the Plants that had once been their only source of survival on the world and had now been turned against them, raining lightning and death down on them like the hand of a vengeful God. Humanity pushed to the brink, fleeing their homes and communities, waves of refugees fleeing across the sands as more and more towns and cities fell to the reign of destruction that had been biting at their heels every step of the way.

And then, as the last descendants of the survivors of the Big Fall clustered in the city of Octovern, spiilling out into the streets, every available, livable space filled to capacity and beyond, what felt like the final days of humanity began. The sounds of artillery fire filled the air, the sight of the Ark and its grotesque ruler loomed overhead, and in the distant sky high above, the previously-inconceivable reinforcement ships from Earth took up orbit around No Man's Land. Throughout the night, explosions lit up the sky, thundering with deafening reports through the air, and yet the civilians below had settled into a still, terrified, anticipatory silence. They couldn't see, from their perspective, the figures atop the ruins of the Earth's space destroyers that had already fallen to the ground, locked in battle for the future of the people far below. But the sight of Millions Knives high above, terrifying and grotesque with the power of the Plants he had absorbed, was omnipresent, a never-ending threat, the harbinger of doom, biding his time until he could make good on his promise to wipe every last one of them off the face of existence.

And then something had changed.

Electrical currents rippled through the air above the downed ship, carrying screams on the wind. To the people below, Millions Knives' massive form had shifted, writhing, bellowing with unholy rage and pain and despair. And then it begun to unmake itself, shredding, crumbling, tearing itself apart at the seams and floating to the ground in tiny, shining, white particles. Tiny, white feathers drifted on the wind, closer and closer before, one by one, they began to settle to the roofs of the buildings, to the tops of cars and to the streets, and to the heads and faces of the humans staring up from below.

The instant that contact was made between feather and skin, a connection was made; between Human and Plant, between each person standing side by side, minds thrown open in bursts of light and expanding consciousness, and through the doors sprang multitudes of memories spanning hundreds of years. Suffering, laughter, pain, sorrow, joy, enslavement, death, pride, love. The Plants had made the connection to their creators - their keepers - that they had been silently pleading for since their first containment, and with it every man, woman, and child on the surface of the world began to see and feel and hear their stories and their cries for help. They did not want this war, they did not want this destruction. They had seen the promises of vengeance and a paradise for their kind atop the bones of humanity offered by Millions Knives and they had felt the hopes and dreams carried by Vash the Stampede of a kinder, more loving world, and they had made their choice.

Of course, but...what would he do at a time like this?

I wonder if he'll laugh again

I wonder if he'll follow his ideals again.

I see. You all know him as well. That young man with a gentle smile.

Little Red Brother.

Let there be love and peace in this world.

In the chaos that followed, as the bodies of the Plants began tumbling to the ground in a writhing mass and the screams of shock and confusion began to rise from the sea of humanity below, something rippled in the air, a last gasp of those silent voices before the connection was lost.

Help Us. Help him. Please.

This was...different. New. As if reality had taken the distraction caused by the calamity below to shift itself sharply to the left, and then snapped. It started at the core of the mass of angelic bodies as men and women began to rush to their aid, a shockwave in the fabric of creation that rumbled silently in the atoms of the world and ricocheted outward, along the ground, through the air, until it had enveloped the entire planet. Time froze for an instant, and to the eyes of all who had the capacity for sight, that leftward shift became manifest, the world doubling on itself as the ground shook beneath their feet.

Wails of confusion and fear rose into the night sky, and for a brief moment, it felt as if the world were about to unmake itself on the molecular level. But then, just as suddenly as it had come, the distortion snapped back into place with a loud, ear-splitting CRACK, and in the stunned silence that followed, only one thing could be certain; things were not the same as they had been mere moments ago, as if everything and yet nothing at all had changed, all at once.

The world of No Man's Land was as it should be, but all across the surface of the planet, pockets of reality had split open, sending the inhabitants of mirrored existences tumbling through wide, unseen rifts. People and places outside of time and space found themselves staggering to their feet in a world that was both foreign and familiar at the same time, found themselves face to face with their own reflection made flesh, tossed about by the pleas of a race reaching across the fabric of creation for aid in putting a stop to a war that had been fought time and time again, across reality after reality, without fail.


Thus began the new chapter in the history of No Man's Land.


[Wherever your character was, whatever they were doing, when the rifts in reality opened, they will have found themselves rocked by a massive earthquake that lastes a few short seconds before settling with a loud crack, like thunder. While no damage will be left in its wake, the characters themselves will realize that though the planet appears to be the same, it will quickly become evident that they are in an alternate reality of the place they call home. Are they standing in the rubble of a once-destroyed city now remade whole? Is the bar they had been taking refuge in suddenly gone, leaving them tumbling to the sand with nothing but their drink in their hand? And what of the friends that had been standing by their side seconds before? This is where your stories begin.]

Comments

Location: the orphanage outside of December

[love_and_peace]

[ When he opens his eyes, the ark is gone, and so is Wolfwood. The orphanage behind him looks the same, the courtyard blasted and filled with rubble, but the doors and windows are sealed, and when he looks closer he realizes that the blood on the ground has dried, and been mostly covered by sand. It's as though he blinked, and a week passed. How is this possible? ]

Is there anyone here?

[ Did he pass out? Did something happen with his gate? The ark had attacked, he remembered that much, and he'd raised a defensive dome over the orphanage to stop it from being destroyed, and then...?

Nothing. There's a hole in his memory. Where Knives and the ark have gone, where Wolfwood has gone, and Livio, he has no idea.

The last he remembers the ark was moving west. He'll worry about the lost time laster. For now, frantic that he's too late, Vash starts off in that direction as fast as his legs can carry him. ]

[littleblades]

[ seated underneath his favorite tree in the gardens, nai had planned to spend a few hours reading. he slides an index finger between the dog-eared pages where he had last left off when a tremor shakes the ground beneath him.

in the time it takes to blink, the familiar greenery aboard the ship is gone and replaced by the uncaring heat of desert and rock. the tree he had been seated under was now replaced by a broken wall that cast a measly shadow over him. nai stares ahead, reality slowly sinking in as his grip on the book tightens more and more.

his head jerks up when he hears a familiar voice calling out in the distance. heart pounding, nai rushes to stand with the book tucked to his chest and heads in the direction he heard the voice coming from. if it's who he thinks it is...

nai doesn't call back out, not until he can see who the voice belongs to first. instead, he scurries around the building and the rubble that littered the surrounding area, only stopping short when he catches sight of a very familiar red coat running away from the building. ]

Vash!

[ nai screams the name until the air in his lungs gives out. there's no way he could catch up to his brother's running, but if he's loud enough to grab his attention, then that would be enough. ]

[celestialcrybaby]

[It had been so many months since Octovern. Almost a year. Long enough that Vash had recovered and finally made his way back out into public and had managed to shake the people who'd been following him. And he might have just continued to wander aimlessly, only...there was one place he had to see, first. One person he wanted to look in on, though he knew he was far beyond the need for care or worries or concern, now. But the weight was still heavy on his chest, and there were still feelings he was struggling to make sense of now that he was gone. So he wanted, just once, now that things had settled and he might have time to process it all, to go back, sit down, and have a proper good bye before disappearing back into the desert before anyone knew he'd been there and could disturb the grave.

Which was why, when the shaking started and the thunder cracked inside of his head, he was walking East, towards the orphanage, his coat tucked inside of his rucksack and a simple shirt and pair of pants in place of his leather gear in the hopes of avoiding detection for as long as possible. He was climbing over a pile of rubble in the path when the voices filled his brain, and for a second he thought he was having a flashback, and he stumbled as his foot caught on the stone and sent him lunging forward into the sand. This was different, though, not the same, but close enough to the cries for help that he'd heard in Octovern that it left him dazed long enough for the rumbling to start. And then he felt the world shift on a molecular level, so close to the way it felt to use his own powers but on such a grand scale that he had a moment of panic before a clap of thunder sent it all crashing back down to reality.

When the fog began lifting from his brain, he found himself whole despite the momentary fear that he'd lost control of his own powers that the event had caused, and he crouched in the sand for a moment, letting himself get reacquainted with reality before a distant, strangely familiar voice managed to bring him out of his daze. He dragged himself to his feet, taking a moment to dust himself off and then glanced up just as the sound of feet racing through the sand reached his ears.

That was the moment he had the second biggest shock of the day, and he visibly recoiled at a figure he'd only ever seen in the mirror, running toward him from the direction of the orphanage. Only the hair on the man in front of him was much lighter than the hair he'd seen in the mirror that morning before checking out of the inn he'd stayed at.

Startled and confused, he dropped into a defensive position, raising his left arm, palm outward in a warding gesture as he glared out through bewildered eyes.]

Woah hey, no, that's close enough, friend!

triple trouble, an indeterminate time later

[dontdeserve]

[ There are no Plants here, either. No Dependents, at least. Vash sighed softly to himself and kept going. There might end up something useful to know, and the fact that there were Independents, somehow, was confusing, but there was only one way to find out what it meant.

Once he had come close enough to brush not one but two presences, he'd withdrawn his senses, politely. It felt rather rude to observe from a distance. But that also meant that when he reached the city, he had no idea where to look for them.

So of course, now he was walking the city. Looking. ]

Hello?

lost july

[nohumiliation]

[the city of julai is gone and in its place is the largest crater knives has ever seen. he'd spent a good few hours canvassing the rubble and leftover destruction for some kind of answers, but frustratingly, came up with nothing that could explain what had happened to the city he had intended to make his base of operations.

there was no doubt that the tremors he had felt earlier were the cause, or at least related to whatever nightmare this was becoming for him.

while he thinks, he walks along the border of the crater. occasionally he leans down to pick up stones to throw into the depths. the one he has now he rolls in his palm, rubbing his finger pads over the sharp edges until the skin breaks and bleeds, smearing blood over the stone's surface.]

[planttech]

[The rumble of an engine is a very slowly growing sound, disturbing the otherwise desolate quiet. Some sort of cobbled together thing the way most vehicles out here are, albeit less rusty than usual, the approach the slow cautious sort one might expect from "gee whiz, there's a hole where a city used to be!"

With the cloth top pulled down, the passenger on one side's standing, eyes shielded with one hand to squint in the direction of where Julai.. should be, the not-Jeep slowing to a crawl and then stopping entirely. A second form joins the first. And then one of them points in Knives' direction before the vehicle starts up again with a sputtering growl and turns to follow the edge of the crater in his direction.

A survivor! A survivor that surely won't survive much longer out here on his own. They are obligated to see to this survivor.

And one that looks awfully familiar, the closer they get. The two in the vehicle look ... awfully like the one on the lip of the crater. A little older, dressed far differently, but.. even they seem to notice the similarity by the way the driver jams on the brakes, nearly tossing his companion right over the hood. There's a brief argument, just barely low enough to be little more than noise, before once more they proceed.

The man that hangs out the passenger side could have been Vash, in any other life. And he beckons with whole arms, expression one of surprise.]

Hey! You there! Are you alright?

[It sounds like Vash too. The driver though, looks rather like Knives himself, if Knives ever deigned to wear human clothes.]

[brightening]

[ how long has he been walking? the desert seemed to go on and on, and every time he looks back he can see smoke and wreckage - ships crashed into the sand, fire and burning, bodies, so much death...

he can't keep track of time anymore and he can't tell if the heat has finally worked its way into his bones or if the despair of being completely alone here on this burnt up planet has finally started sinking in. he thinks, at first, he hears nai laughing again - wide-eyed and utterly pleased with himself atop the wreckage.

he hasn't looked back in hours, hasn't noticed that the sky overhead changes color, the sand a little hotter underfoot, and that if he turns the smoke and wreckage of the crash will be gone, lost years and years and years into the dust. he's tired, thirsty, and as he finally comes to a stop at the edge of something horrible - a crater - he wonders if this is where he will finally wither up and die. ]

It's so hot...

[ he closes his eyes against the sun just as something rustles nearby. a stone rolling down the steep slope of the hill. panicked, he looks around frantically, but there's something else on the air. a feeling. and then he sees the figure, hooded, and the blood smearing on his fingers. fear sings through him. ]

Hello? Who's there?

the orphanage outside December x2

[graveresemblance]

[One moment Livio's surrounded by laughing children, his eyes on the horizon, but always on the sacrifices before him that made it possible for him to be here, scraps of fabric floating in the wind--

and the next there's a crack of-- thunder? and for a moment he thinks he's back on a very familiar moment of awakening. and maybe he is. Because when he opens his eyes and everything settles, he's surrounded by rubble, and blood.]

Hey...hey, where is everyone? Kids?

[celestialcrybaby]

[Vash had been on his way to the orphanage, to pay a visit to Wolfwood's grave, to try and settle some of the lingering weight in his chest that he knew would never really go away but had hoped would ease somewhat, if only he gave himself a chance to have a proper moment to process everything now that things were all said and done. Give himself a chance to say a proper goodbye, without feeling rushed and panicked, with the threat of annihilation hanging over the heads of everyone who was still alive.

He should have figured that the place wouldn't have stayed empty forever, of course. It had been almost a year since Octovern, and the children still needed a place to live. But he'd still been surprised when, as he neared it, the sounds of children laughing and playing began to filter through the air, and he'd quickly decided to stay out of sight until nightfall. It had warmed his heart, still, to see Livio amongst the sea of children in the distance as he tucked himself into a nearby ruin to nap and wait for everyone to go to bed.

He had only gotten settled for an hour or so before the sound of voices, Plants, his sisters had filled his mind, repeating words in his memory so close to what he remembered that it was like a flashback, and yet just different enough that it was almost more of a shock to his system than the voices themselves. It was enough to make him scramble to his feet before he was staggered again by the rumbling of the ground below him and shocked into a bewildered stupor by the sound of thunder cracking through his head.

Everything went silent afterward, and it almost felt as if the sound had deafened him before he heard a familiar voice in the distance crying out. He moved on instinct, rushing out to help before he registered that the place was strewn with fresh rubble and blood, and the children who had been here only moments before...were...all gone.]

Livio! What happened?!

[Probably not the best way of announcing that he was there, no, but he was rattled and not quite thinking clearly, and people needed help. He was never great at making quick decisions when people were in danger.]

surprise

[climbedup]

That is a very good question.

[ She was in Octovern, taking care of the children and trying yet again to help with all that had assaulted their young, battered minds, and now she is not, and the sight is familiar and not both. And she can feel blood draining from her face as she sees the destruction.

She knows Miss Melanie and the kids under her care got away. But ... clearly not everyone did.

Jasmine rubs the sweating palms of her hands into her pants and then turns around to see who was asking in the first place, and her expression relaxes a little. ]

Oh... hey.

oh hi

[cowgoesmoo]

[ Just when Vash is sure he can't walk any further, the heat lines raising off the sands form themselves into a big building, with a funny tower in the middle. The promise of shade, and maybe people, gets him to slog the last mile or so, the heavy cross-body bag weighing down every step. The thin (and too big) jumpsuit at least has kept him from the worst of the sun, but his very pale face is pink and sweaty, and his spiky blond hair dark with sweat... well, sweat and sand. He fell down once or twice, don't make a big deal out of it.

But now he's here! Wherever 'here' is. ]

Hello? Hello, is there anybody here?

On the outskirts of a two-tomas town, in a bar

[mercifullyheavy]

The day had honestly been going smoothly, miracle of miracles. They'd managed to get into town unnoticed, Blondie's distinctive flash of "Look At Me!" red and mop of fluffy hair hadn't gotten him recognized yet, and they'd actually been able to find a table in the local bar to settle and get something to eat for the night. All in all, that was a major win in Wolfwood's book, and they didn't always get those very often!

So, of course, that just meant the universe had to decide to up and fuck them over one more time, right? It was around the time he was lobbing another snarling retort across the table to "Nico" after the 15th time he'd called him an "old deadbeat" (Hah hah, you little fuckin' twerp!) that he felt the world underneath them begin to shift, not even the shaking of the planet under his feet enough to disguise the very distinctive way the world shifted that made him heart drop right down into his stomach before the sound of thunder cracked in his head.

For a moment, Wolfwood felt himself almost disconnect from reality, his eyes going wide and his glass slipping out of his fingers as his memory flashed back to the last time he'd felt the same sort of jolt in the fabric of the air around him, and when he came to, the bar around them was already in a mild state of pandemonium. Voices were shouting, people were standing and rushing out into the street, expecting perhaps to see burning rubble where a nearby building had once been.

He looked up, strangely short of breath as he pushed away from the table to stand, looking from Vash to-...

Nico's chair was empty.

"Wh-where?" He looked around them, trying to see where he'd gone so quickly before looking back to Vash. "Where'd he go? What was that, you felt it too, right? What was that???"

yelp

[dontdeserve]

Help Us. Help him. Please.

The familiar, though not quite, voices' echo faded in his mind on the heels of the crack, and for a moment Vash was just trying to reach out, but the call must have been incredibly strong, because they were so, so far away.

And then he was focusing around himself again, only to find, to his dismay, that one of his companions was not there, and he froze.

Did I do something? Was this my fault?

He swallowed down the questions, and the guilt twisting his guts, to shake his head at Wolfwood.

"I... don't know. There was a call for help... from plants. Many of them. With a- an image. Not unlike me, but also different. Hair standing up a lot more." He chewed on his lip, eyes scanning the bar in case there was someone in need of help. Nico...

His voice lowered a little more, but he had to ask, because there was something in Wolfwood's eyes. "Are you all right?"

Location: just outside of Some Rando Town

[aplantandherboy]

[Things have gotten a bit weird lately, haven't they?

Settlements appearing. Entire cities disappearing.

Delphinum and her boy suddenly popping in where they definitely weren't a few minutes before, just on the outskirts of some random little town she didn't recognize, is as disorienting to them as it was to anyone in any of those displaced cities. In the late sunset light, a towering muscular brown hulk of a man (who might be somewhere in his early twenties by his scarred face, youthful and sweet in a visibly easily distracted sort of way) sets down his burden, a rather small plant bulb somehow dwarfed by the human who'd carried it, the plant inside looking around in obvious surprise.

Across her bulb are a series of wires and little touchpads, a speaker bolted to the top. She's not the glowing-lined sort of plant, she's got too many limbs and too many bodies for that, but even at a distance the movement in the little bulb is awfully deliberate and aware, long fingers tapping the little touchpads. The voice that comes out of the speaker is tinny and artificial.]

Where is this?

[The bulky young man rubs a hand through his dark hair, frowning.]

Don't know. I'll look for a sign.

[And then off he boldly goes, tromping towards town with a determined look on his face. There's a static squeal from the speaker as several buttons are mashed at once, but he's fast enough that by the time the plant manages a coherent sentence he's already out of easy hearing range.]

Don't leave

Tom!

[Well. He'll be back, but by the way she crosses two sets of long, thin arms, alien expression set to mild annoyance and frustration, this is ... not even remotely the first time this has happened. There's a moment's long hesitation, and the speaker's volume is carefully ratcheted up bit by bit. Staying out in the hot sand, even with the suns working on setting, wasn't going to be comfortable soon.]

Hello?

[graveresemblance]

[This is all so strange. The further he traveled, the more things seemed to be...even more not right. At least trying to help others who had been yanked from who knows when and where is about par the course for him, even before all this--

He hears a voice among the rubble, something....strange, unfamiliar, not quite cold, but.]

Yes? Hello, is someone hurt? D'you need help?

[celestialcrybaby]

[He really had not expected his "retirement" to be this...weird. Not that he could really call it a retirement, anyway, but it was as close to one as he could ever hope to achieve. His week had already been the weirdest, though not really the worst, he could say he'd ever had, and he still wasn't sure it wasn't all some kind of weird fever dream.

Given his encounter with his younger self, he hadn't been able to keep himself from heading back to Octovern, even if it was going to be the big hotspot for people who were on the lookout for him, now that the Earth Feds had taken over running the show as much as they could. But Octovern was a good way away from December, and his legs may have been long, but they were only so long, so still he found himself traveling between towns when he heard a strange, electronic voice calling out.

He glanced up and around, his eyes catching on the glimmer of the twin suns shining off of a reflective surface yarz away, and he turned to walk in the direction before finally coming close enough to tell what he was seeing.

While she was undeniably different in her bulb's construction, the sight of one of his sisters was unmistakable, and the second he realized what he was looking at, his feet picked up speed, rushing him over to the Plant before dropping his rucksack to let himself press his hands to the glass.]

You're a long way from home, sister! [He reached out with his mind at the same time he spoke, already making the mental connection on pure instinct alone. Why was she out here? Where had she come from? What were the devices attached to her bulb? So many questions tumbled from his mind, though he was used enough to sisters that had trouble communicating even when one did have the ability to connect telepathically with them that he didn't expect much of an answer. Already, he was glancing around, wondering if he had missed a caravan or something similar that might have dropped her on accident.]

outside the crater that used to be July (vanilla/canon vash)

[dontdeserve]

[ vash was heading towards julai with wolfwood, when voices and images flooded his mind, and then a crack and - instead of the city busy with life, human and plant, singing its own song, of cacophony and harmony, there is silence. And one that seems to have settled over years and years. Other than that, it feels like the same place.

And that is terrifying.

He knows he needs to find the plants that called out, he needs to find out how to go home.

But let him mourn for a little while, for people who were alive and different and kind and rough and happy and sad and everything in-between. ]

[nurturing]

[ She's been looking for what feels like days, frantic yet hopeful at the same time that the boys were okay. Alone in this heat, frightened and possibly hurt? She should have gone with them in their escape pod rather than taking her own later.

...but then again, a lot more people would have died in this mess. This... old mess that didn't make sense. Nor had the cry of voices begging to save a red brother.

Finally, she spots a hint of blonde at the edge of a massive crater and her heart jumps in her chest. When she gets closer, however, it's still not either of her twins. ]

Are you alright?

Finally getting around to posting my idiot - Also at the December orphanage CW Alcoholic tendencies

[celestialcrybaby]

In the grand scheme of things, less than a year was not a lot of time to get over losing someone. He knew this, he'd been through this more times than he could count. It was never easy, and after he'd left Dr. Bond's house and managed to shake the girls - and the small mob of bounty hunters and EFS soldiers - he'd told himself to just give it time. He knew the process, he knew how to take the pain and roll it up into a ball and sit on it until the sharp edges had worn away, until he could unravel it and finally be able to look at it again without cutting himself to shreds.

But this one, he couldn't sit on. He'd been trying, doing his best to at least remember only the happier moments - what few they had been allowed - and to keep putting one foot in front of the other, continuing on for both of them, now that he was gone. But the pain wouldn't let up, the memory of cigarette smoke, the sound of the church bells ringing so loud but not loud enough to disguise the sound of his final exhale of breath, the weight of his body in his arms as he'd reached to lower him into the ground and then been unable to let go until he'd sat with him for hours; all of it plagued his thoughts at every moment he wasn't forcing himself to think of something deliberately not in the shape of the hole his absence left in his chest.

There weren't many, perhaps not any aside from Rem, who's deaths had hit him as strongly as this.

So, less than a year after he had laid him to rest, dressed down in a simple button-down and slacks with his normal gear hidden in his rucksack to avoid detection, Vash had found his way back to December. It was still so empty and desolate, the population only now beginning to fill back into their houses and shops. He'd bought a bottle and a couple of glasses at the bar when he'd checked out of the inn that morning, the same brand and everything, though he knew it had been the drink of choice simply because it had been the only thing available that had any real kick and not because it was particularly a favorite. And he'd walked the few short iles to the orphanage, reaching the empty building around nightfall.

It was strange, seeing it as empty as it was, but he preferred it this way for now. He wouldn't have dared risk the visit if the children had returned, it wasn't worth drawing any danger to them just so he could have one final visit. He knew eventually, they'd come back with Miss Melanie, and that the yard surrounding the home would be filled with the sounds of children again. But tonight, he would give himself a chance to properly sit without the unending panic of knowing the world had been tossed into a chaos only he might be able to stop. He would try to give himself the chance to properly say goodbye, even if part of him felt like he'd waved that right when he'd told Wolfwood not to do just that when he was still alive.

Even knowing why he was there, he couldn't quite form the words - any words - when he first arrived. He busied himself with putting his bag on the ground not far from the grave, taking out the bottle and the glasses, and moved to sit beside the stone that covered it. He cracked the seal on the cap of the bottle, pouring a full glass of the stuff and setting it gently on top of the stone, poured a separate glass for himself. And then he sat, drinking from it (something he hadn't allowed himself to do the day it happened) and just...let himself feel.

The alcohol, honestly, was probably a bad idea. He'd known that when he bought it. But by the time he had finished off the bottle and his tears had finally begun to slow down, the fog in his brain was at least thick enough that he didn't feel like he was locked inside of his own head, inside the horror of what had happened. He was able to sit, one of his knees pressed up against his chest so he could rest his head against it and stare at the stone next to him, and he was able to think about what it meant, who it protected just below the surface, without wanting to scream until his voice was so raw that he could taste the blood.

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. I should have, I know. I'm glad to see you're still safe." The fingertips on his right hand were brushing across the sandy texture of the stone, his nerves alcohol-addled enough that every bump and crack in the surface felt magnified tenfold, but it was soothing, grounding him, his mind latching onto the cold surface and imagining Nicholas inside of it. Closer to the surface than he was, close enough that maybe he would know he was there.

It was a silly thought, but it helped.

"I made sure Livio made it out ok, by the way." Fresh tears clouded his eyes, stinging sharply. "I couldn't-...You...Everything you'd said. They were going to-..." He dug his fingertips harder against the stone, hard enough that the texture hurt, before pressing his palm flat to the surface. "I'm sorry, Wolfwood. I'm sorry I called you a coward. I'm sorry I-...I'm sorry I didn't let you say good bye. I'm sorry I didn't tell you how much I cared."

He buried his face in his knee when the tears overwhelmed him again, rocking unconsciously as he wept. He'd thought he'd gotten through the worst of them, but they wouldn't stop, and it felt like his heart was breaking inside of his chest. It was too much, it hurt too much, every nerve in his body felt like it was burning up and his head felt like it was crammed full of shards of glass, and it hurt!

It was almost enough that, when the voices of his sisters cried out and the ground began to shake underneath him, he almost didn't even notice it. It wasn't until the distinctive, baffled sound of metal grating against rock ground out in front of him that he looked up, eyes wide as he finally registered what was happening, finally noticed that the shaking was coming from outside of his body and had rumbled enough that the sand beneath the Punisher cross had shifted and allowed the thing to begin tilting.

"Oh no, no, don't-...!" He lunged forward, bracing the massive gun on his shoulder and clung to it as he felt the air around him shifting, leaving him feeling distinctly sick to his stomach, and then the sound of thunder clapping inside of his head made him jump as everything suddenly came to a standstill, as if nothing had happened.

The world was still for a long, tense, quiet moment as he tried to process what had just happened, tried to grasp onto the fading memory of the psychic cry for help that was so familiar, and then he finally began to pull himself up, shifting the cross back to its proper standing place with awkward, fumbling fingers.

"'S ok, it's safe! No harm done, look!" He was too drunk for this. Or maybe he wasn't drunk enough? "It's fine, this is fine, I'll just...needa put a base under it or something...! I didn't think to do it before, that's my fault, I'm sorry, I'm-...I..."

The cross settled back to its upright position, he settled, hands still resting against the tattered rags that still clung to the thing after the last few months exposed to the elements, and finally glanced around himself to realize that the place looked...different somehow. Subtly so, but it was there. As if the damage that had erupted from the fight that had claimed Wolfwood's life was fresh.

"What just happened...?"

What this funeral needs is sad music.

[doubletimefeel]

He hadn't noticed the way the air shook, the way the ground trembled, even the cry for help had been nearly drowned out by the echo of gunfire and tinnitus-like whine in his ears that muted almost all else. Almost. Help us, help him.

He wasn't the sort to help people. Wasn't part of the job, the opposite actually. And where had that gotten him? Shot through the damn lungs, Hopperd's howl of fury a distant and rapidly fading thing, the smells and sounds and sights of a frightened and battered city dimming in time to his own weakening pulse. It really was just his luck, wasn't it? Nothing else to lose, now.. not even his life.

Why not try a different road.

By Midvalley's best guess, the reverberations of whatever the hell that had been were quickly fading to little more than bewildered memory, and the buildings not far away were not at all the close packed town of a few minutes ago. This was not where he'd been shot; the red still soaked his once nice clean white suit, it still burned and stabbed when he inhaled too deeply but he knew the difference between a death wound and one that merely hurt to an inconvenient degree. He hadn't dreamed it. Hadn't dreamed the feathers, Legato's arrival, Beast somehow still being alive .. and he wasn't dreaming being somewhere where he shouldn't be, amongst the empty wilderness between towns. Gingerly he shouldered his saxophone and begun walking. There were voices ahead-- no, just one voice. But voices meant population, which meant maybe some bandages and a good stiff drink, and he had at least a little currency to pay for both; it'd give him time to sort out what the hell that just was, where he was, and more importantly what he was going to do now. His one chance to get rid of that maniac was gone, returning wasn't an option, being hunted very well might be..

These thoughts derail suddenly when he recognizes the somewhat slurred voice ahead, and the outline of a man. Not .. quite right, he's fairly sure the Stampede's hair had not been quite that dark not too long ago, but it's enough to slow his own footsteps to stillness, the crunch of pebbles quieting as he considers very, very carefully what to do nex: in theory one devil was behind him somewhere, and another devil in front of him.

No feathers.

And that looked ... awfully like Chapel's weapon.

Actually that looked awfully like a grave. Midvalley's a bit lost on a lot of things right now but he's pretty certain he hadn't managed to kill that durable bastard, nor would anyone have been able to stuff him in a hole and make a gravestone in the last handful of minutes either. This ... looked like a warzone already, but not the one he'd just been in. Some other fight. Was this the power of the plants? Was he ... teleported, or something?

Vash's question of what just happened doesn't really get an answer, because he doesn't know. But there is a response. "Is that Chapel?" A pause. What had that girl called him? "Wolfwood."

His tone is neutral. There's no attack, his saxophone still slung across is back, his posture as very deliberately casual as he can make it in spite of the sudden spike of adrenaline. Everyone knew Vash the Stampede didn't attack unless attacked first. But who knows what would be considered an 'attack'; if there was one thing Midvalley the Hornfreak is certain of, it's that he's wildly outmatched by these monsters. Even when one is possibly thoroughly pickled.

"Thought maybe this was your doing. Guess not, if you're as confused as I am."

december, an empty bar

[littleblades]

[ the sounds of a piano ring out through the quiet streets surrounding a just-about abandoned bar with a broken swing door.

inside sits nai at an old piano that has certainly seen better days, his fingers moving across the keys as he plays. he still isn't tall enough to reach the pedals, the tips of his boots just barely scraping the scuffed floorboards. as he plays, his face scrunches in irritation when he hits an untuned key, but he keeps at it until the song is finished. it's expected from a piano that had been covered in dust and debris until nai had discovered it during his explorations.

but out-of-tune keys or not, when nai finishes the song he straightens with a huff before starting all over again. as a perfectionist, he'd play this over and over until his fingers bruise and bleed. without vash here beside him, he'd learn to play both sides of the duet meant for them alone. ]

there he is the smallest babyest man in the world

[graveresemblance]

[the sound draws him like a moth to a flame, or maybe like a small child to the pied piper in the middle of the night. who could be playing classical music in an abandoned city ineed.

his path takes him to the empty bar, pushing open the door slowly, praying it doesn't creak (it does, loudly), and the back of a little bowl cut.]

Oh. Hey, what are you still doing here?

A few days after arrival; feel free to use it as a backdrop for other stuff or with meee

[doubletimefeel]

The town outside December still had a population, or at least was reclaiming one, and it's there Midvalley has stayed for now. A population meant food, shelter and company, and more importantly paying customers.

Not of the sort that had brought Knives' attention; an assassin Midvalley certainly was, and he absolutely would and did kill for money, but ... maybe not so soon. Not while he was still recovering, but as far as he's concerned killing is a secondary skill, the primary one is music. And to a confused populace, some coming out of a living nightmare, others just beginning before being uprooted and tossed here, an evening spent with music to enjoy is a better evening than usual, and it seems they're willing to pay for it. The number of people who've turned up at the bar he'd taken up with was growing evening by evening, mostly adults but some not, and the proprietor seemed quite happy to pay his fees with the business that was turning up.

The musician might need to take longer breaks than usual between sets to catch his breath and drink away the fatigue, but he's good at what he does, and the mellow, easy sound of baritone saxophone is easily heard through the open windows and doors for the scattering of tables and chairs just outside.

Stay a while and relax. Peace never lasts, but there's no harm in enjoying it while it does.

glances at DID THEY...OFFICIALLY MEET...well at least liv knows about a horny man

[graveresemblance]

[if there's anything that's resolved, or organized, after a disaster, even a world ending one, it's entertainment and shelter. they come hand in hand once things either settle, or there are enough people to gather resources and huddle together like little mice in the rain.

Livio had been here in December initially-- after everything. He knows a few of the people who have gathered everyone together, knows one of the semi-bars around here. Had heard about a certain musician, and wanted to check it out.

He has a vague feeling.

that town at the end of the anime but also this could be anywhere because of shenanigans

[stungunmilly]

[Milly's hard at work when you-know-what happens. It's pretty scary at first, being underground during a sudden earthquake. She stays still, trying not to worry as she breathes out and waits for it to pass. Once it does, she climbs back up, sticking out of the well in an almost comical way.]

Please don't worry, I'm alright! Could someone find Mery-

[But there's no other workers there!]

Hello? Helloooooooooooo!

[Maybe it's a joke! They're all playing hide-and-go-seek! Oh, or maybe it's a surprise party for her since she's been really helpful these last few days! That would be fun! Although it doesn't really make sense that they'd do that in the middle of an earthquake. Milly then reminds herself that they wouldn't know an earthquake is coming, but still! Once it happened, you think everyone would come out to make sure she was fine! Now she's getting a little angry, if they're really all being so careless about each other's lives like this.

She shakes her head, shaking away all these imaginary situations too. The only thing that mattered was what was actually happening, although... she didn't know what that was either.

Milly pushes herself up out of the well completely, brushing herself off as she stands.]

Hm... Is anyone around? You can yell surprise now! Or wait, am I supposed to be surprising you?

[graveresemblance]

[it's been
weird. being in one place one moment, only to pop up somewhere else, somewhere rather unfamiliar in this big wide desert world. this place is rather empty, wherever this is. this had clearly been a town, maybe even recently.

but it's quiet, except for--]

...Hello? Where are you?

[that. a woman's voice. could be a trap, but what's the use of standing here like a boob?]

Somewhere Out There

[nyctinasty]

That cry for help is familiar in the worst way.

It brought back memories.

Not so much the earthquake or how everything goes nauseatingly sideways with a sound that makes his ears ring terribly and sets off a headache he could really do without. Nor how it's suddenly daytime, and it was evening about thirty seconds ago.

And his house is missing.

... His entire house is missing.

AND HIS FIG TREE IS GONE.

Knives Millions, scourge of humanity decades upon decades past, stares blankly at where there should have been an adobe structure and now was just rocks and dirt and no sign life had ever been there at all. Replacing the tree was out of the question, as was replacing the home. He squints balefully upward at the ever scorching suns, then takes a slow look around and picks a direction. If he recalled correctly, some iles in that direction would be a town. As much as he'd rather not deal with humanity at all, there might be some answers as to what the hell that was and where his house had went.

And who had cried out in a way that tore at memories he'd rather leave in the past with sharp claws of urgency.

For anyone familiar with him, he still looks recognizably "Knives", but the devil is in the details; black hair and not blond, a chapped weathering of visible skin as if much time has been spent in the wind and sand, a fine tracing of wrinkles of all things - nor does he look like the mid twenties young adult he in theory 'should'. He could pass for pushing forty, not helped by the subtle limp in his stride. Even his clothes have seen better days, faded and careworn but comfortable, once possibly fashionable but now merely serviceable.

While his pace isn't particularly hurried, it is relentless. Somewhere in this direction is a town, and they better have the answers he wants.

oh brother

[dontdeserve]

In the distance, there is a dot of red.

It's the wrong kind of red, probably, but it's moving... perhaps a little more erratically but just as steadfastly in the end. And if Knives is using his plant senses, there may be a gentle but repeated call in a voice that might or might not be familiar. The absence of Plants is disconrecting him in many ways, so he keeps... trying.

Vash spots the other person far, but he also does wait until he is within calling distance befor etrying to communicate, given that he doesn't expect this to be an Independent.

"Hey! Are you all right? It's dangerous out here on your own!"

Vash, you're doing the exact same thing-- it's not the same!

Outside December

[plantussy]

[ Faceplanting in sand isn't something you expected when you were just on a bus, nor was the weird screaming about a red brother(?) Vash briefly thinks he's blacked out and woken up in the desert somehow, and the fact that he has no bars on his phone could be proof of that.

...however, he's pretty sure there were never two suns on Earth.

Was this another stupid scheme to mess with him? He almost prefers being stabbed by one of his brother's lackeys than being dropped off at...whatever this is.

He's limping a bit towards what looks like some form of settlement, hoping they have a phone he could use. Vash doubts this excuse would work on his professor, but maybe he can take his finals again. Why did this have to happen today?

So there's a Vash heading towards December, with no link to Plants and lacking the sturdiness of his other selves. Completely human and endlessly confused. ]

three-way thread coming your way....

[climbedup]

[ they have finally found a vehicle and stocked it up as much as they can. and are heading out. with the vehicle.

jasmine is curled up peacefully in the passenger seat, ready for the trip which is going to be on the long side. then she sits up. ]

Livio? There's someone walking over there!

[ ... which. he can probably see the figure, but she only just now spotted it. ]

+1 More El Woowoo, Spooky Flavored!

[el_llorono]

It wasn't every day, when something in the physical world managed to throw him for a loop. He had mostly gotten used to being incorporeal, only able to really interact with things if he absolutely focused and simply spending most of his time chattering mindlessly at Vash as he followed behind his wandering footsteps. The man couldn't hear him, not that he really wanted to try, all things considered; he knew he could, in theory, he'd been able to make himself heard to Livio all those ages ago, and he knew that Vash's mental capabilities were far more metaphysical than any humans'. But he also didn't want to cause him any added grief, so his prattle was just that; quiet, filling the silence, feeling a little less lonely despite being always near his side.

So imagine his surprise when one day, as they were walking the long road to Home, they both found themselves shocked by the sound of voices, telepathic voices that even Wolfwood could hear, and the ground shaking in such a way that both of them stumbled in tandem. It was still instinct, to reach out to catch himself as he fall, his voice shouting out in surprise, and for a moment, the world almost seemed to move in slow motion as he watched Vash in front of him, jolting even as he fell, twisting his body and looking back in surprise.

Looking at him.

He shouted again, this time in confused shock as he saw Vash's eyes go as wide as saucers, heard his name ringing out in recognition at the same time he felt his hand impact something solid. Fabric over metal, a bracket where prosthetic was socketed firmly into bone, warmth of skin through a coat and from the suns beating down on his shoulders. He shouted out Vash's name as they collided, tumbling to the ground, and then all was still.

He lay face down in the sand for, honestly, he wasn't sure how long, before finally realizing that something had changed, something huge. And though he had made physical contact with the man, the first contact he'd had with anything living in actual decades...it hadn't lasted. He should have been under Nicholas. Or, more accurately if the world had stopped being fucking odd, should have been laying through Nicholas, and he'd accidentally shifted through people enough times in the past to know how uncomfortable it was if they were merely human. The few times it had happened with Vash, it had been like his entire, non-existent body had been elecrocuted, and he had worked very hard to be mindful of where they stood in relation to one another ever since.

But none of that was happening now. He groaned, lifting his head and glancing up at the desert around him, and despite knowing how futile it was normally, he couldn't help calling out when he found himself alone.

"...Vash? Needle-Noggin? Come on, Spikey, where'd you go?" Ahh, shit. He rolled to his feet, turning in place and looking all around him, finding no sign of him anywhere. "Damnit! Your mom's gonna tan my hide if I lose you, come on! How in the Hell did you disappear this quickly???"

it's time for woowoo II: son of woo

[louboutinjudas]

He'd been walking for two days without seeing another living person, and Wolfwood had just about reached the end of his rope. The towns he'd passed through so far had been desolate and abandoned, with clear signs that shit had been bad here for along time -- windows were boarded up, the streets were full of people's things, bags of clothing and nice stuff too, pictures and statues and all that rich garbage -- and the bodies left to rot in the side alleyways really drove that point home. Whatever happened here, it had wiped out everyone in the area, and without a radio, or a car, he didn't have a chance in hell of getting back to civilization before the heat and winds did him in.

So why fight it?

There was one cigarette left in his pack, one crumpled soldier that he'd been saving for more than a day. His mouth was so dry he could barely speak, and the cigarette would just make the thirst worse, but fuck it. For his crimes, this was exactly the ending he deserved -- lost, out in the middle of the wastelands, where all his strength and speed couldn't do a goddamn thing to keep him alive. Where, even if he'd still had a gun, the only person to shoot was himself.

Getting himself up to the top of the ridge took more effort than it should have, and he was panting by the time he dropped onto a rocky seat overlooking the valley below. The hike was worth it, though -- he'd never been much for the finer things in life, but even the most cynical asshole had to admit that the sunssets in this place were fucking glorious. It made a man almost believe in God.

Almost.

"Because if you are real, then you've got a fuck of a lot to answer for!" He tucked the cigarette between his lips and leaned back, flipping off the sky. He'd find his lighter in a moment -- for now, everything was quiet, the sky above red like blood, or the broken fashion sense of a too-trusting idiot, and with any luck, he could doze off here and not ever have to wake up again.

"You should've stopped me."

Somewhere, anywhere

[rejuvenation]

[ Anger is a poisonous thing, and rage is the end of the line. Somewhere, anywhere, the very air feels dense with anger, and the heated growling and shrieking is adding to the madness.

A large ball of feathers, some dipped in blood, can be found in the sand. Nothing can even be seen inside the twisting of wings, only the occasional feather-clad and clawed hand or foot, and the flash of glowing eyes. The horrifying sound, however, is reaching for miles.

Some realities are full of horrors that aren't named Millions Knives. ]

If it's fine with you, a Vash is coming along for the ride as a three-way thread?

[el_llorono]

[Of all the things to come of this whole debacle, shuffling through the desert after a man who was Vash but wasn't at the same time, who could perceive him more easily than he was used to being perceived in a very long time, was not one of the things he would have ever expected. But, though he really needed to find his actual Vash, the novelty of the whole situation was too good to pass up, and he found himself rather fascinated with the little guy.

So here they were, wandering towards the next abandoned town to try and scrounge up enough supplies for Rem and Vash to get by on (though the amount of ascetic undereating he'd noticed in this Vash was, frankly, a bit concerning) when Nick felt a strange tug in the air around him, a niggling in the atmosphere that made the energy that constituted his form tingle unpleasantly.]

Wh-...you feel that? What is that...? [And then, just on the edges of his hearing, a sound. Distant, foreboding. He tensed, focusing his energy so that he could be heard.] Vash, wait. Hold on. You hear that, too?