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nomans_land2023-05-02 05:02 am
nml_mods) wrote in nomans_land2023-05-02 05:02 am
Entry tags:
On The First Day
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.
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.
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.]
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.
[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.]
no subject
They shot the kids?
[ This world isn't a good one at all! He takes a step back, just retreating from the whole situation, but where can he go? Rem is miles and miles away, and he doesn't know where Knives is. ]
I don't want to be in here anymore. Can we go?
no subject
[someone important was gone. sacrificed his life for them. he raises his hands in surrender, in mercy, mercy he won't ever get in this life--]
But we can go. Okay?
no subject
That's a lot of holes in all these walls for nobody to have gotten hurt. ]
Okay.
[ In fact, he should probably head back out and keep looking for Tessla, but he can tell Mr Livio that after they're outside. ]
Aren't you scared? Being here after everything that happened?
no subject
tossing one last thing into his own bag, a can of-- something edible he hopes, he rises to his feet]
I'm scared. But I can't let it rule me.
no subject
Rem says that's what bravery is, when you're scared about something but you do it anyway. [ It's hard to imagine somebody as big as Mr Livio being scared of anything, but if he can be small and brave, then Mr Livio can be big and scared, right? ] When I'm done helping T-- my friend, I should bring you to meet her. You'd like her! She's really nice.
no subject
[like Miss Melanie is. and she'd be right, too. in theory he knows this, but it's hard...]
I hope your friend likes me, I don't want to scare her-- or make her mad.
no subject
[ He wouldn't survive meeting Tessla! ]
She is really wise. Maybe she knows how to find the kids you're looking for?
no subject
[she did sound scarier than Livio could ever be]
She could, you're right. Or point us in the right direction.
no subject
[ It sounds like Mr Livio and Rem have to meet! But what if Vash gets poofed somewhere new again, and he can't find his way back here? He'll have to tell Mr Livio how to find Rem then, in case he has to get there on his own. ]
C'mon, I wanna show you how to find her!
[ Let's go! Back outside, as fast as Vash can move with that big bag, and he points to the horizon in the direction of December -- specifically, to a particular rock that's shaped like... well, a big rock, okay, but a distinctive big rock! ]
Rem's that way, way out by an old city that got knocked down. If we get split up, you can go there!
no subject
Hm. That looks a little familiar, but not that much. [that's definitely December, though]
If we split up. Think we'll do better with two heads, though. I gotta ask...what did Rem think about you going out here without her?
no subject
I think she wanted to come with me, but I told her she couldn't. [ He's actually a tiny bit worried that she suspects who was hurt, but if she did, she didn't say anything. ] If I'm not back in a day or so she's gonna be really worried, though, so I can't stay here too long.
no subject
[Melanie would have tanned his hide if he'd done that. but at least she put that boundary for him to do what he needs to do. and probably will tan his hide eventually]
I guess we better start going, then, huh?
no subject
He grins at the stubborn comment. It's true! ]
Yup!
[ All directions are good directions when you don't know where you're going, so let's head out... this way? ]
My brother says I'm stubborn too! Except when he says it, I think he means that I don't let him get his own way all the time.
no subject
if Vash thinks this direction is good...might as well take it]
If there're two of you, you gotta at least get your way half the time. Is he older or younger?
no subject
[ At least the ground in this direction is more rock and less sand? Walking on sand is so tiring, especially for little legs that are used to flat spaceship floors! ]
He's smarter than me, but if he tries to get his way too much I can kick his butt.
no subject
[his smile hopefulllyyy isn't frozen-- this is definitely the Vash he knows, because who the hell else would have a twin named Knives??? someone without taste, also. and is that possible? no]
You're stronger than him, then?
no subject
Uh-huh. And I'm faster, and I can hold my breath longer, and I don't get sick in the zero-g room.
[ That heavy bag gets shifted to the other shoulder. ]
But I can't remember stuff as good as he can, and he's much better at music and painting and all that school stuff than me. We compliment each other! [ That last bit has the sound of something he's repeated -- or had repeated to him -- often. ] I love him a lot, even when he's a jerk. Do you have a brother, Mr Livio?
no subject
[he has nooo idea what the heck that is, kiddo. but he'll go with it. even if he's secretly freaking out!!]
You guys are two peas in a pod. [a pause, and his smile turns sad] I didn't have any siblings...I grew up in an orphanage, but we were all like siblings.
no subject
Oh. [ He grew up so big and strong though, so maybe his orphanage wasn't as bad as the ones in those old movies? ] Well, you don't have to have the same mom and dad to be siblings, right? Me and Knives don't even have a mom or dad, not really! And all the other plants, they're our sisters, and they definitely weren't born the same time we were!
[ He hasn't learned yet to be secretive about who and what he is, and it's just so nice having somebody to talk to! ]
If you loved them like they were your family, then they were your family, right?
no subject
a lot to unpack, alright. yeah, he can't deny this is the Vash he knows-- or a smaller version of him. best to again, not unpack that!!
he offers the boy a tiny smile]
Exactly. They were my family.
no subject
[ Everybody should have family, no matter where that family came from! ]
Hey, Mr Livio, if you're here in the future, then do you know, where is everybody? There's two big cities I saw so far that are knocked over and covered in sand!
[ His last memory is on a spaceship headed to a lovely green world, so where the heck are they? ]
no subject
no subject
His vision gets blurry, and, embarrassed, Vash scrubs at his eyes with the back of his hand, hoping Mr Livio didn't see him crying like a baby. All though people, though! ]
Where did they go?
[ Did they all die? ]
no subject
Not sure what city. But they made it out just fine, I saw them with my own eyes.
no subject
Wh-where? Where did they all go?
[ Some of them, he can't help but correct himself. They didn't all go anywhere. Some of them made it out just fine, like Mr Livio said. Some of them, though, didn't.
He doesn't like that feeling, the feeling of thinking about people having to leave their homes about people dying. It makes his stomach hurt. ]
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