[ He made it to the table without falling over, success! ...For a given definition of success, anyway. On his one side, Vash looks almost as stressed as he feels, curled up tight around himself... and no wonder, given what he's got planned after this little drinking party. On his other side, Wolfwood is acting like he's waiting for the ground to open up beneath him, and from the way he keeps shooting glances at the bandage around Vash's arm, there's no question what he's thinking about. The whole mood is dark and miserable, and it's making Vash want to take his bottle, crawl under the table, and not come out again.
But that's not a choice he gets to make, so! Vash first, then Wolfwood.
Silly smile firmly plastered across his face as reminder to himself to keep his shit together – the others won't believe that dumb grin for a moment, but it's not for them – Vash reaches out and takes Wolfwood's hand in his own, threading their fingers together securely before turning to Vash with a nod. ]
Thanks for the meal!
[ Beneath the words, he sends gratitude/family/support, bare emotions rather than words, the way he usually speaks with the plants in their bulbs. With Knives, it's always words, usually after being pulled into his gate to have a talk, and it's never a pleasant experience. With the other plants, though, communication is easy, dream-like, honest feelings passed back and forth like a caress. Whoever is in the ground back in the orphanage, whatever secrets they're going to go dig up, it's not going to be easy on any of them. He's not sure he'd have the patience to wait here if it was his Wolfwood potentially buried in another man's grave. He's not sure he'd be able to be this calm.
Still holding Wolfwood's hand, Vash grabs the fork and digs in to the can of vegetables like it's the tastiest thing on the planet. His stomach revolts almost immediately, but he's had more than a century's practice at ignoring his body's complaints, and right now he needs the fuel. Once he gets half the can down his throat, he'll chase it with whatever's left in that bottle. ]
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But that's not a choice he gets to make, so! Vash first, then Wolfwood.
Silly smile firmly plastered across his face as reminder to himself to keep his shit together – the others won't believe that dumb grin for a moment, but it's not for them – Vash reaches out and takes Wolfwood's hand in his own, threading their fingers together securely before turning to Vash with a nod. ]
Thanks for the meal!
[ Beneath the words, he sends gratitude/family/support, bare emotions rather than words, the way he usually speaks with the plants in their bulbs. With Knives, it's always words, usually after being pulled into his gate to have a talk, and it's never a pleasant experience. With the other plants, though, communication is easy, dream-like, honest feelings passed back and forth like a caress. Whoever is in the ground back in the orphanage, whatever secrets they're going to go dig up, it's not going to be easy on any of them. He's not sure he'd have the patience to wait here if it was his Wolfwood potentially buried in another man's grave. He's not sure he'd be able to be this calm.
Still holding Wolfwood's hand, Vash grabs the fork and digs in to the can of vegetables like it's the tastiest thing on the planet. His stomach revolts almost immediately, but he's had more than a century's practice at ignoring his body's complaints, and right now he needs the fuel. Once he gets half the can down his throat, he'll chase it with whatever's left in that bottle. ]