nomans_land | On The First Day

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introduction

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.

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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ 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. ]

[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?

[ his fingers slip on the keys, startled by the sound of the door creaking and subsequent voice calling out that certainly did not belong to vash.

he spares a glance back before suddenly booking it for the back rooms of the bar, the bench scraping loudly as he shoves it back in his attempt to abscond. ]

[ooop-- he wasn't expecting the little guy to take off, but really he should have. Livio is kind of huge and scary looking]

Hey, wait! I'm not gonna...I just want to make sure you're alright. It's kind of dangerous here.

[ nai is already distrusting of humans, even with vash's continued insistence that it's really okay - but livio's size and appearance don't help either.

he runs into the back room, slamming the door shut. it's only then he realizes the room he's in now... doesn't have another exit with only windows that are boarded up tight. nai clenches his fists, breathing harder. ]

G-Go away! Or I'll hurt you!

[ his blades are half formed at best, certainly nothing that could do extensive damage, but if it comes down to it... ] I mean it!

[he approaches the closed door slowly, and sighs]

Okay. I won't come any closer. You're safe from me behind that door. My name's Livio. What's yours?

[that sounds non-threatening, right? he might find kids not annoying anymore but that doesn't make this any easier]

[ maybe if he uses his blades he could try and claw the boards off the windows...

the human - livio? - sounds much closer now, right up to the door. he looks like he could bust the door down with ease if he wanted to, hardly a comfort. nai picks up a broken, metal pipe to hold as a weapon. ] What are you going to do if I tell you?

[ he moves away from the door to the windows to start trying to pry some of the boards off. ]

december, an empty bar

there he is the smallest babyest man in the world

here he is!

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