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

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.]

[graveresemblance]

[somehow he isn't crying his eyes out, but they are desperate and wide as they settle on Vash-- Vash, who he hadn't seen aside from on tv in-- awhile.

he clutches at Vash's arms--]

Vash, where the hell have you--

[that'll come in a second. more importantly--]

I don't know...we were all here, and then-- there was this noise, like when-- [Nick died] before. And now it's almost like everything's the way it was then...

[celestialcrybaby]

[He couldn't help the small amount of flailing he did at the question, pointing at the little ruin he'd been trying to nap in and then back at the orphanage, feeling a bit embarrassed for himself.]

I was just-...I didn't wanna-...[No, but then Livio was redirecting himself away from that question and back to Vash's, and his own eyes looked around frantically as he spoke, trying to find any sign of the small herd of children and caregivers who'd been there just moments before.

When Livio's words sank in, the unspoken implications dawning on him, he froze, his own memory of that night flashing back in his mind, and his already pale skin blanched. No, he remembered the noise he spoke of. How could he not, he'd been at the epicenter of it when it struck. And he was right.

The blood on the ground - so much, in massive puddles, trails, flecks that muddied the sand all around them - and the piles of rubble and bullet shells and rocket casings lay scattered about, now that he was conscious enough to really look for them. And he felt sick.]

How-...What-...??? [Words were catching in his throat, refusing to form and frustrating him, but he knew himself well enough not to fight the little spell until it had passed. He was normally so verbose, but sometimes, sometimes, words were just hard.

He glanced up at Livio, reaching up to clutch back at his arm with the one he was holding and even to grasp the hand on his own arm with his free hand, an attempt at offering grounding reassurance. At the very least, the feeling of another person's hand under his own helped give him something to focus on when a horrifying thought crossed his mind and his attention snapped back in the direction he knew a broken, old couch had stood amongst the rubble of an old house.]

Nick...! [The name rasped out of his lungs before he was tearing off around the orphanage, hoping and praying the weird sense of being thrown out of time was just a figment of his imagination.

Shouldn't he have been more concerned with the missing children? A part of his mind that was still calm enough to have rational thought suggested as much, but the panic of the moment had already gripped onto the entire reason he had come back to December, latched onto the grief that had been clawing at his heart for months, and didn't feel inclined to letting him go until he had appeased its morbid, painful curiosity.]

[graveresemblance]

[he appreciated the gesture, holding him up because if Vash hadn't grabbed him there's a good chance Livio would've been on the ground. unable, unwilling, to keep going. because if the blood here is--

but then Vash is leaving him everyone leaves him, tearing off, Wolfwood's name on his tongue-- and horror chokes Livo, horrified at what he might find. the big man tears off after Vash, desperately--]

No, no, nonono, VASH! Wait, don't-- WAIT!!

[celestialcrybaby]

[He heard Livio trying to stop him, shouting out for him to stop and the sound of his footsteps as he ran behind easy enough to pick up, but it only made him set his jaw, shake his head, and run harder.

If he was-...

If Wolfwood was-...

He had to check! He had to know, he couldn't bear the guilt if he let himself be stopped because it was the rational thing to do and it turned out that crazy little idea had turned out to be true, and he'd just left him out there! He could handle seeing him again, even if-...even if he was-...

When he finally rounded the corner and scrambled to a stop amongst the pile of rubble where a house had once stood, the sight of the old, unoccupied couch filled him with both immense relief and horrible grief. The bright, red stains of blood that coated one side of its surface did little to help matters, especially when his feet carried him closer and he could see that the blood...it was drying, yes, almost completely faded to a dark brown. But it was still fresh.

He swallowed around the lump in his throat, felt a wave of dizziness hit as he looked slowly down and around. At the bottle of whiskey on the ground, alcohol dripping from the neck, boot prints that matched his own in the sand leading away from the sofa and dug deeper in the sand than the ones he'd just made, as if he had suddenly weighed twice his normal weight when he'd finally walked away from the couch.

Carrying his body.

When he turned to look in the direction of the orphanage where he knew there should be a grave, he felt as if he were moving through quicksand, movements sluggish and dazed. And when he began walking in that direction, his steps were much less rushed.]

[graveresemblance]

[oh god, oh god, Livio has to catch up, has to stop him, to grab him and tear him away from this-- this--

the big man spots the bloody couch and almost collapses. he knows, he knows he's the last person Vash wants to see, that he should see, but he's the only one here...he's the only one who can stop him.

so he hurries after the plant, shouting, reaching desperately, until finally Vash slows, walking like he's in mud. Livio catches up, and gently places his hands on his shoulders]

It's okay. Let's just go. This is taken care of. You already-- he's already taken care of. We don't have to go there, okay?

[celestialcrybaby]

[He almost shrugged Livio off when he felt his hands on his shoulders, but the words managed to break through the fog, and the reality of it hit him again. It's okay. He's already taken care of. He was. He took care of him, himself. He had to, he couldn't just leave him there. Nothing could hurt him, anymore, he was safe, he even covered the grave to-...!

He gave a small, humming sound as he came back to reality, shaking his head and covering his face for a moment to hide the way it crumpled, the way his lip trembled. He hummed again, soft little noises that weren't quite whines and weren't sharp enough to be crying. Trying to build up to being able to form words again, before finally he found his voice, soft and miserable as it might have sounded.]

I...came to visit...wanted to visit him. Didn't think...didn't think anyone would be back yet. 'S...why I was hiding. Didn't want to bother you guys, some creepy old man just...lurking by the orphanage. Just...wanted to...come and say good bye an' then...and then leave again. That's all.

[Not that he needed to explain, but it helped to reorient himself, get himself out of the weird headspace that had come over him. He gave himself a moment for the tears to hit, let himself feel them, process the panic he'd just had. And then he did his best to shove all of it back down inside of his chest, wiping at his face and readjusting his sunglasses, and then looking up at Livio with an apologetic grimace that tried to be a smile.]

Sorry, sorry. I'm fine. Your kids are missing, let's go. we need to look for them.

[graveresemblance]

[he was here the entire time??? Vash is never a creepy old man, just a sad, sad child who needs. who needs....well, Livio isn't quite sure, not always. Vash's mouth says one thing but his eyes always say another.

he keeps his hands gently, gently on his shoulders, soft enough to shrug out of the bigger man's hold if he wants.]

It's okay. If Melanie's with them, even a worm doesn't stand a chance. We can take a few minutes to just breathe. You shoulda come out, [said lightly] the kids love seeing you.

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.

surprise!! bet u thought u'd seen the last of me!! you will never

[graveresemblance]

[the voice has him starting, hands at his hips, where his Punishers remain, but they steady, and stay, when he sees Jasmine's face.]

...Jasmine? What are-- why--

i was certainly HOPING not to have seen the last of you!!!

[climbedup]

Also very good questions.

[ she purses her lips. ]

Why am I here, I don't know. What am I doing? Going back to Octovern.

[ her eyes soften, as she looks around. ]

Unless someone here needs any help, of course.

hehe no worries you NEVER EVER will i am everywhere like a stink

[graveresemblance]

I don't..I don't know.

[he's scared to look. he's scared to look and see what he'll find. he's terrified he'll go over and see Vash, and see Wolfwood's body, and-- he's almost as scared of seeing that as something happening to the kids]

The kids were here and then..they weren't.

yes GOOD. also do we do this after their texting or...

[climbedup]

[ it helps a little, to recognize his confusion and fear. she was used to seeing this. less in adults, because she was caring for kids and paid attention to them more. but it's easy to know what to do. she straightens and steps closer to him, a hand soothing on the back of his sleeve. ]

Tell me where to look and what to warn you about. I'm small and can sneak places unnoticed more easily.

yeah i think that'd make sense! or idk whatever you feel makes sense

[graveresemblance]

[he's trying, and failing clearly, not to show it. but he squares his shoulders and smooths the worry from his face]

No, don't worry about that. I don't want you to get hurt, or get stuck. I don't think they're here.

[if he's thinking this is what he's witnessing again, when he's witnessing]

yess

[climbedup]

[ she has experience with people trying to not show it, it's all right.

but she nods, coming to stand next to him, even if she finally realized what he is talking about. she can feel her hands go cold at the thought. ]

Oh.

Well, you're definitely not going to look alone.

[graveresemblance]

What? I wasn't going to-- I don't think anyone's here...but you're not going in there with me, either.

[look two can be stubborn here]

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?

eeeee hello hello!!

[graveresemblance]

[that-- is a person. a rather young voice. and instead of letting himself be dragged down by despair, hurries towards the voice, calling--]

Yes! I'm here! Wait right there--

[and when he turns the corner that-- is not any of the kids he's familiar with. and his outfit is-- hm]

Are you okay?

[cowgoesmoo]

[ There's somebody here! With both hands now on that heavy bag Vash hurries toward th-- okay wow that's a big guy! ]

Whoa.

[ He looks like a cowboy, from one of Knives's movies! That's so cool!

Vash drops his bag with a huff and leans over, hands on knees and breathing a little hard. He's been walking a long time! ]

Hi! I'm looking for somebody, can you help me?

[graveresemblance]

[a tiny, tiny smile curls across his face, but it's grateful, too. he looks okay-- it's good to see another soul]

Yeah, I can try. I'm looking for some people, too. My name's Livio. Why don't you set that down and take a rest?

[cowgoesmoo]

[ The bag didn't start off as heavy, but after a couple of miles it's like it filled itself with rocks! Vash laughs, a little breathlessly, and nods, hauling the thing up closer to the building so he can set it down in the shade. ]

Hi Livio! I'm Vash. Who're you looking for? [ From his pocket he pulls most of a peanut butter flavored ration bar, the wrapper folded down over the eaten end. His expression is apologetic as he holds it out. ] Are you hungry? It doesn't taste very good, but it's food.

[graveresemblance]

[Va--VASH??? he tries not to visibly look closely at the kid-- that isn't the most..common name, right? maybe he was named after....the little face is a little familiar as well...and the mole...

no, no, he isn't going to worry about it]

Nice to meetcha, Vash. Sorry it's under circumstances like this. I'm lookin' for some kids that were at an orphanage in December-hereabouts.

[oh, ration bars, he hasn't seen any like that before.]

No, I'm okay. You go ahead and have it. Are you okay? Are you hurt?

[cowgoesmoo]

[ His tummy been rumbling for awhile now, so, with an annoyed huff, Vash breaks off a bite-sized piece of that gross ration bar and pops it in his mouth, chewing and swallowing as fast as he can to try and avoid tasting the nasty thing. ]

Me? Nuh-uh. [ Whoops, Rem taught him better manners than that, sorry. He gulps down the gummy mess, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. ] Sorry. I haven't seen any other kids, except my brother, and I'm not hurt, but the friend I'm looking for is!

[ He points out into the desert, back the way he came. ]

Have you seen a big pile of feathers, bigger than a person? [ He considers that description for a second, and adds: ] It might be mean.

[graveresemblance]

[a big...pile of mean feathers. that's...well, huh. he's relieved this Vash isn't hurt, though, and he's got some sort of food. and he's got a...brother. coincidence...surely!!]

Where's your brother? Nearby?

[his gaze follows Vash's finger]

Like a Thomas? I haven't seen any yet.