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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.]
continuing the body horror
Ribs reform with a glowing light to shield her lungs again, and the happy murmurs and soft coaxing from the plants continue as their wings are healed, the bloody rip from Tessla breaking free stops bleeding... it's a shared rejuvenation.
A small heart is given a shield by a sternum reforming to protect it, and several feet of guts no longer has to drag in the sand. The spine needs more time, slowly reforming to connect with her lower half. Once the pieces meet with a pulse of light, Tessla gasps and clings tighter to the feathers around her. She can't really physically feel it, but just knowing she's not half a girl any more brings back more of that fragile hope.
However, just like Knives predicted, Tessla does have a very fractured sense of what she is supposed to look like, even without the addition of the many-limbed strange normality for the plants. One arm is finally restored to what could be considered normal, while the one that had been in a separate tank is still having some issues. It was connected to a wing in the attempt to save her, just like her eyes, and there's some difficulty for them all to put it back right.
The eyes are simpler and not at the same time; a face is easier to understand, and there are spaces for them in her mutilated face. The wing that assimilated them wrap around her head like a blindfold, using both the healing and the shifting form of gestalt to try to transfer them.
It does mean that Tessla is blind for a while, but that's okay - she's been blind a lot of times back when they did experiments on her.
All through out this, the feather cocoon is shrinking slowly. ]
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[As long as things worked, pain free and easily, did it matter if Tessla shared a look with her clustered sisters instead of starkly human? Knives didn't think so, a plant was beautiful no matter how many eyes or limbs she had. The outline Vash offers of a different kind of sister, without multiple torsos and dozens of limbs, is strange and unfamiliar, but they too are beautiful. He could force the issue, sever things not quite lining up and reattach them -- but he doesn't. That's unnecessary trauma added to already enough misery, so he simply tugs with a thread of Vash's power to try to lure the wayward arm (and wing..) in the proper direction, properly oriented. Any debris left of sand and stone should be burning in earnest, sloughed off and discarded as unworthy and useless into the ground.
He still had her hand, the intact one that hadn't gone on its own little journey, but he lets go with one of his own to tap lightly against the blindfold of wing. These eyes belong in a head, not a wing, move on, little blue eyes.
And an alternative, silently offered: simply grow more and leave those ones where they are, is there harm in more than two eyes? It's not part of the plan, of any kind of sister or a humanlike form, but if she felt more comfortable with it, that mattered more.]
Try to take a deep breath, and try to speak. Does it still feel, hm, rough?
[An important thing to know, before muscle closes all of that up and would require cutting to re-arrange. Easier, to encourage flesh to knit together in other places, across her mutilated hips and mending guts, mend all the small pinpoints of damage hungry little worms had begun. With some encouragement, she should at least have a strong pulse, if her lungs worked right then that was the fuel muscles needed and he could begin with the process of crawling skin layer by layer over the damage that had otherwise been stitched back together, crisscrossing angry red muscle and a thin layer of fat with skin that has the pallor of never having seen daylight. It'll flush, when the blood vessels connect.
There was more delicate work to do, to hunt for and if found repair the tearing in every throat that can happen from too much screaming, too much pain.]
Please reach out with the arm I'm not holding. Flex your fingers if you can. Little brother, if you can reach her feet, we need to be sure sensation's returned there. Touch should be plenty.
[Things were well enough along to test range of motion and returning strength, sensation and reflexes before everything was put back together so much that it would need to be rebroken to heal another way.]
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If anyone expected Vash to comment or complain about her appearance not matching the human form, they might be disappointed. He would like her to not be in pain, to be whole. She can't go back to untouched by here those who hurt her, but she can be new kind of whole. He does watch the shrinking of the cocoon with some alarm, but for now that means his wing can wrap around more of her/them, and he'll take that. Knives did warn that sacrifice must be made for her to get healed. This. Was better than the alternative that his brother had outlined.
His own offering doesn't waver, for whatever they are not certain about.
He still doesn't speak with his voice, but his emotions do resound with a soft, beautiful. She is not done still, but he means it. ]
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It feels... strange. N-not bad, but... [ Tessla starts, voice raspy and wet before she coughs and things even out a bit inside the mess of a raw throat and horror mouth. She has teeth again, weird and foreign when they return inside. ] I can feel everything moving... it's very new. [ Maybe that is rough in a raw, new way. Like things are newly born and not ready to face the world. Still, things seem to work without issue; nothing is coming in wrong.
Even it was... she's so young, she'd adapt anyway.
Skin is starting to cover her midsection now, guts nicely tucked away as vessels attaching to bring it from nearly death-grey to healthy and flushed. At the same time, there's a larger glow of light constantly gathering under her (and out of sight) where tissue clumps are disposed of; tumor after tumor cleansed from the remaining parts of her body. Scrubbing away all the damage the experiments left on a defenseless child. Tessla wasn't only in pieces, she was also very sick, and that sickness had to be removed or it would all be for nothing.]
Breathing isn't so hard any more. I can hear my heart. [ The young independent says with a weak smile as the wings embrace her further. The sisters really did want to remain a part of her, sharing everything and leaving pieces of themselves to guard her. Wings around her shoulders like a cape, around her hips, around her neck, by her eyes, on her head like a feathered halo. Blue eyes have returned to where they are meant to be, unseeing at first but then light returns to Tessla's world.
If there are extra eyes hidden behind the wings at her cheeks, well... her big little brother has good ideas. ]
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Good. It might take some getting used to again, how things are supposed to feel and move.
[Like having all of her teeth back, and how that alone can affect speech. With the bulk of the healing tended to, and certain the already set instructions would continue to be followed, he has one matter left that needed to be addressed.]
This here. [A faint touch, somewhere deep in her mind, all the places where a brain sensed pain. Important for the sisters to know, for Vash to know, in case someone else or they themselves ever needed it again.] These are the places that need to be stifled so you can't feel pain. When all the new skin is in place, you can let them reset back to normal, you won't want to leave it off forever, because pain tells us we're touching something sharp, or something too hot, and to pull away before we get hurt badly.
[As much as it would be nice to ... never have to risk pain again, it served its purpose in all life forms. But they'd know how to mute it if it was too bad, or caused by someone else's attacks. With that final note made, he carefully withdraws the thin thread of his own influence, certain that his instructions and the combined outline of mending would be followed until she was healed.He'd still be there, patient and alert for any signs of trouble.
Trouble was certainly not the shroud of comforting wings.
The smile returns, faint but a little relieved. There wasn't enough of a power drain to kill anyone, today was a good day.]
And if you'd like, you can finally sleep if you want. It's safe now. We can put you in the vehicle and take you with us.
[That.. that bit is a tiny amount of misleading, he intended to bring her wherever Vash was going. He didn't have somewhere to take her to, and settling in with someone as likely to up and die as he was, would be unnecessarily cruel.]
THAT WAS MY MISSING It oops
He takes a deep breath. ]
There is... Delphinium. She is a bulbed plant, but she can communicate clearly, with us and even with people, though that takes her more effort. She lives with humans, who will do what she tells them to, but more than that, beyond that settlement there is a city of plants. Of Independents. That might be a good place to get used to being whole again, for you. [ He means the entirety of Tessla as she is now, Independent and Sisters all together. ] Safe, and provided with anything you may need. Including food and water, if you need them.
[ And no humans. He thinks that will be an important part of recovery, to find herself again, rather than have to deal with that too soon.
It's mostly a question for Knives, if he agrees with his judgment on that, but also to Tessla, as much as she is still awake. ]
<3
Tessla tries to reach out inside and follow what her brother meant with that spot in her head, but it's terrifying to imagine all that pain back again, when she's been saved from it for less than a few hours. What if it will hurt just as much? What if it will always hurt? Yet another thing to feed her anxiety in the middle of all of this, despite the soft soothing from Vash.
Then finally, last stretch of her healing is nearly complete; a whole little girl, if a little bit peculiar. There are more fingers and toes that what is considered normal, because she couldn't really remember how many you're supposed to have, but they're all functional. Wings are still there, but she can pull them together to be out of way way, and her legs even briefly wiggle happily as she's slowly helped to sit up by a sister's wing.
The cocoon stays around her like a soft blanket, shrinking down even more to the point where it's more the size of a bed. It's no longer attached to her, however, and as the last of her delicate skin knit back together she briefly glows white and it all disappears, leaving just a feathery girl in the sand. A little seraph. ]
Wh-where did they go? [ Tessla's blue eyes look around a bit, and then curls her own wings around herself. ] I can still feel them...?
oops!!
... Later. Like so much else, later. He'd hoped his brother would care for Tessla directly, but it seemed that wasn't in the cards, and he was reluctant to just cut her loose and hope for the best.]
I have enough of a home that if you want to stay with me, you can. If you don't want to try this Independent city.
[But now that he knew another option was there, would he remain so close to humans?
It is a relief to see the last bits of mutilated flesh ease away into unmarred body, even if there wasn't ... quite .. the normal number of fingers, or if feathers and wings remained. She was whole, and if this was the new whole, then that was fine. It was better than the image that lingered in his mind even after so long of her corpse floating in preservation fluid. Infinitely better. Rare was it these days that Knives can simply be happy about something, but this was certainly one of those rare moments.]
They're still with you, just out of sight. If you need them, they're there.
Ah well.
She has the settlement there to protect the inner place from other people. If you choose that, of course.
[ Vash's attention is on Tessla, and even through the drying tears, he is beaming with pride, his self-directed disappointment locked tightly away other than the way he won't look up to meet either of his sibling's eye.
As the cocoon shrinks completely, his wing hangs useless on the sand for a moment, before starting to fade slowly.
He does shrug slightly in response to the surprise from Knives. ]
I only found them after we met. I think they came to this place about the time when I did.
no subject
She sobs, tears falling in the kind of bone-deep relief that comes with renewed hope, and she carefully (and very unsteadily) stands up, wobbling the few steps to Knives and burying her face against his thigh. It's all too big for a thank you, too big for words but Tessla is sure he can feel it. ]
I-I don't know what I want.
[ She's never had many choices, and doesn't really understand what they are in the first place. All Tessla knows is that she never wants to see a human again, and that her brothers are safe. She holds out a little hand for Vash as well, instinctively wanting to surround herself with her family. ]
I'm just... very tired.
[ Exhausted, body and soul. There's no pain, no healing, just calmness, and she's barely hanging on to Knives' pant leg. ]
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But the wave of feeling from the tiny gestalt is not aligned with a bad outcome, not those sparks of hope and gratitude. Of course it must be overwhelming, and he was stupid to not think so earlier. To go through that much pain, to have it mended, to have demands and requests shoved at her--]
Well. In that case.
[She's small, and she's barely holding on, to him or likely also to Vash given her extended hand. Vash would take it of course, and they could do what she was too tired to, and move her somewhere else.]
I know a place you can safely sleep til you feel better. And then you can think about it a while, and tell us when you're ready.
[And a glance at Vash, questioning, but not speaking it, or allowing it to leak through his thoughts and potentially upset Tessla - was Vash staying to hear that answer?]
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I would like to sleep. [ She says softly, almost as if asking final permission to do so. Her small, almost decorative wings droop a little, bigger ones tucking in closer around her. The little girl is going to need some clothes eventually, and some shoes, but for now wearing wings like some kind of dress is very suiting for a small angel. ]
You'll stay? [ Tessla then asks, worry laced in her questions as she holds her arms up to Knives - a seemingly universal gesture for little ones to be picked up by their older brethren. Maybe they can go somewhere and make a little pile to rest together, or however it works when more than one person sleeps in the same place. She never had a twin climbing into her bed every night. ]
no subject
We'll both stay.
[For a while. Always a while.]
Rest now. We'll take care of the rest.
[His vehicle still waited in the distance, not so far away, the rumble of its engine still a low and steady sound. He's pretty sure the back seat could be laid down, it would.. do, for the moment, softer than the sand and hard stone. There might not be room for all three, but it would be enough for two. And then one driver, himself. As Knives turns and heads across the sand, he keeps his voice low. Should Tessla drop off to sleep it shouldn't wake her again.]
Your ... wing looks like it'll make a good blanket for her. Do you mind staying in the back with her?
[Vash had a way of being comforting that Knives couldn't hope to match. If anyone could soothe her to a deep, restful sleep, it'd be him.]
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[ Vash chirps immediately to confirm, then hums softly in response to Knives. ]
I'll stay in the back with her, yeah. And I'll try with the wing.It came out for her in the first place, after all.
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She's safe for the first time in her life, even the sisters quiet since they know her brothers will protect her. Instead she has the kind of dreamless, bone-exhausted sleep that her body has denied her for who knows how long.
She's a tiny little thing in Knives' arms, and will probably sleep for a long time unless disturbed. Her mind needed just as much rest as her body. ]
no subject
[Had he thought ahead he might have stolen something with a quieter engine. It'll do, though. It's a bit awkward to maneuver a child and wings into the back without jostling her too much, but eventually there's a somewhat beaten up but serviceable seat.. and enough space for Vash as well. Just not much more than that.]
.. When I first saw it, I thought you were going dark, albeit in a bit of an unusual way. I've never seen a plant with galaxies in their feathers before.
[Still quiet. Waking her JUST WON'T DO, and he's got a driver's seat to get back into, somber. Of all the things to have to contend with, just at the end of his days, not when he would be able to give her a better life..
There would be a rocky outcropping nearby, somewhere. Enough to park in the shade and wait out Tessla's bone deep exhaustion. Bringing her to town, even as on the outskirts as his own home was, would be needlessly risking human interaction.]
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[ but he very deliberately focused and eventually made it appear, though his eyebrows were scrunched at the end.
A blanket he could make. Whatever his own thoughts, for her, he'd do much and more beyond his normal ways.
Before they arrive, even more quietly, ] is it all right by you? That I'm staying?
[ his eyes scan ahead when they stop. ]
Shall I keep her wrapped up? I don't think she'll wake up. But still.
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At the most, she makes little content sighs now and then. ]
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[Shade's better than sun, and it would have to do for now. That town, wherever it was.. he was going to have to find out where it hid itself, and see about moving his little tree.
It might be nice, having company he didn't almost instinctively find repulsive.]
I never mind your presence, Vash. I never have. ... If you both are comfortable, I'll leave what you do with your wings to your discretion. We .. may have a while to wait. I'll find supplies if you grow hungry or thirsty.
[It'll mean a bit of a walk to keep human buildings out of sight but so be it. Otherwise, he's going to settle in to biding his time. She might sleep for quite a while.]
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And he breathes out, slowly. ]
All right. It's... been a while since I was actually welcome. Other than at Home... that's Ship Three. And now with Rem. I had to ask. Thanks.
And I can go for the supplies, if it will be easier on you. I don't mind at all.
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[It's very bluntly stated, in a tone that brooked no argument. Knives had never been good at making anyone feel better. Vash, on the other hand..]
If she woke up frightened I don't know that I could soothe her.
[Were either of them really welcome anywhere? Knives knew he had to carve out a place for himself if he chose a location, and there were never happy locals there to greet him. It was the way of things.]
It's been a bit of a day for all of us. Get some rest too. We'll see how she feels when everyone's awake again.
no subject
Not finished: just about anyone who tries it likely better at soothing Wash than Vash is.
One hand caresses gently a bit of golden hair visible through his wing. ]
Thanks. I'll be here, and you try to get some rest also. Even if your needs for it are different.
[ Vash means to curl up next to Tessla when they reach a bed. He's not sure his wing will stay if he sleeps, but at least he himself can be right within an arm's reach. ]