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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
God...
Nai mentions the other Vash, and he manages to tear his eyes away from the child in front of him, to look towards Wolfwood, only to catch that Fuck and. Somehow, somehow that managed to give him something to hold on to in the whirlwind that was his ind right now. He breathed out, and when his eyes returned to Nai, the tears had finally dissipated, and his gaze was marm and kind, the sadness always there but much less dominant.
And then he rubbed the back of his head a little sheepishly, as Wolfwood's words kept coming and actually helped settle him back into reality, away from the whirlwind that was threatening to drown him even worse than ever since they had found themselves in this place. ]
He's not wrong, Nai. [ He reached to nudge the bridge of the shades up the tiny, familiar nose. ] I don't take well or easily to losing anyone.
[ Although if the Vash that had been with Nai really was the one that Wolfwood had been missing for that long - the one that Vash knew that he loved - that would not be exactly like losing him. Not if he could come home, at last. ]
And such things are far too easy on this planet. Especially as it is right now - the plants that were in these towns were taken away, so everything is dangerous. So I'd kind of like to find them, too, since I think they are the ones that brought us all here.
[ He could not be sure if Nai would pay that much attention to Wolfwood's arguments. But the plants being in danger enough to take action, that was likely to catch his attention. And, also... ]
... they asked that we all help them, and help the other Vash. That's... also what I've been trying to find more about.
[ He did not know what Nai had already been told, but this much he might be able to tell for himself - about the taken plants, that was, whether or not he had caught the message from them. ]
no subject
nai's smile drops when the priest moves closer, brows pinched even as he listens to the man speak. now he remembers the name, one his other vash had mentioned in brief passing. was this really the same guy his brother called a friend? he keeps his expression flat and distrusting, fighting the urge to step away and put more distance between them.
just in case.
his attention is refocused on vash when his brother slides the glasses back up his nose. the tips of his ears tinting pink. ] I don't know where he is right now, but I'm going to find him.
[ one brother found, another lost. unfortunately, this brother had a straggler hanging onto his coat... not much nai can do about that for now. his gaze falls then, thoughts turning over their sisters. held in captivity and unable to protect themselves from both the humans and... whoever it was taking them from the towns. he starts to worry his lower lip with a sharp canine and catches sight of his brother's artificial arm. reaching down, he plucks his brother's hand with both of his, rubbing his thumbs along the greenish-tinted material. ]
It's been a long time, hasn't it? [ the thought of his brother being harmed is a slice to his heart, an aching pain. the glasses start to slide off his nose again as he's looking down, but he doesn't seem to care. ]
no subject
He bit his tongue, though, puffing awy on that cigar as if things were just as fine as they could be, now that they had found the kid.
Unfortunately, watching the way those tiny hands held onto Vash's prosthetic, the way the sight of it seemed to effect him in a way that he was trying to hide, just reminded him of how much a child could be effected by things they'd experienced and the horrors they'd seen. How much it could change them. Just like Livio. Sweetest kid, timid and shy and lonely and just wanting someone to take care of him. And how the things he'd lived through had twisted him, made him seek out a monster of his own making if only it would keep him from ever being hurt again.
Despite himself, the realization hit him hard, and it hurt. The whole thing fucking hurt, and everything in him wanted to despise the person cowering in front of him.
He gave a deep sigh, shifting so he could sit, properly, the smile on his face turning sad before fading completely as he stared at those tiny hands grasping around green, shining metal.]
You know...[What had he called him? Not Knives.] Nai? It kinda has. The guy who took the plants...he's really been tryin' his hardest to hurt your brother for a really long time. I haven't known Vash for many years, really, but...the entire time I have...[He could tell this whole thing was balanced on a razor's edge. He could also tell that Vash had been attempting to be vague about what he told his brother. And honestly, he got it. So how exactly did you talk someone down from letting themselves become their own worst enemy, without making things worse?]
He's made a lot of people hurt Vash, a whole lot. Your brother doesn't like to talk about it a lot, an' that's ok. Sometimes things hurt too much to talk about, an' it's ok if he doesn't feel comfortable rememberin' all those things just so we can hear his story. But...I've seen things happen to him 'cause his-...enemies, the people this guy's been sendin' after him, want to do everything in their power to take away everything he cares about. It's why they're takin' away the plants. They say it's for other reasons, but...everything I've ever seen them do has just been to try an' hurt Vash...they even try an' make other people help do it, like...
[He chewed on his words for a moment, glancing over at Vash, really debating with himself whether it was a good idea to say what he felt needed to be said. Trust went a long way with kids who had trust issues. If they found out you'd been lying, it could fuck up the entire thing. He would know, he'd been one of those kids.
Oh well. In for a penny, in for a pound.]
Like me. They wanted me to help hurt 'im, they threatened the people I cared about to make me do it. He's too sweet, though. He makes you feel like you're his best friend. I couldn't do that to 'im. That's...how we got separated. Do you know what an orphanage is? A home for kids who's parents died or couldn't [Wouldn't] take care of 'em? Those guys found out I turned on 'em, so they went lookin' for the kids at the orphanage where I grew up. I knew your brother needed to take care of the other people that guy was hurtin' to get to him, though, so I left to help the kids on my own, an' got into a really bad fight. Your brother came an' helped, he saved all those kids...but I still got separated from 'im when it happened.
That's why I wanna help 'im, now. An' why I need to find the other Vash, to make sure he's ok. A lotta people really look up to your brother, you know? He does everything he can to make other people happy, an' he's real important to 'em. People are real worried about 'im, but it's not safe out there, with that other guy doin' all the things he does just to get to 'im. We think that's what that rumble might'a been about, the one that happened a few days ago? I couldn't hear the voices like you guys can, but it sounded like people were worried about 'im and askin' for help so he'd be safe.
no subject
[ It's been a long time, hasn't it? Nai's words made Vash's lower lip tremble just once. He caught the shades, as they fell, slipping them on his own face effortlessly, the green fingers wrapping gently around one hand holding them as he tugged, just a little. If Nai followed, he would get hugged with Vash's right arm, gently but closely. So he could listen to it all from right there. Or not. As he chose to.
As Wolfwood's words kept coming, Vash had to bite his lip to not come close to tearing up again. He could fill in the gaps that Wolfwood was leaving, at least some of them, and thought how horrifying that must have been. For both of them. And how Knives--
God.
He took a shaky breath, then let it out slowly. ]
Before you think all the wrong things... my arm was cut off to save my life. Back then, I got... very upset, and my Gate opened, from my left hand. But unlike for most plants, my gate is not one that you can take out of. It goes the other direction. And since I could not control it at all, it started sucking everything in. It was cut off so I would not be sucked in, or worse. It has been a long time, but not all of it has been bad.
And... the one that Wolfwood is speaking about. He isn't attacking me because I'm an Independent, he comes after me, or the other me, because he wants to destroy humans and leave only plants. And I - I don't want anyone to be destroyed. Humans, plants, Independents, Worms... I think we can all live in peace.
no subject
he can read between the lines, as much as he's done his best not to for his own sake. maybe if he hadn't already been told these things earlier, hadn't already broken down in frustration and bubbling anger, his response would be more than this subdued, heaviness that covers him. he pulls vash's prosthetic hand close to his chest, holding it there with a tight grip. his shoulders twitch when vash brings up his gate - a surprise that he can't help but feel a little proud.
his little brother... could it be? nai never felt better than vash that he had powers that seemed unreachable for his brother, instead taking it as a call to action. it was his birthright to use these abilities to keep his brother safe.
yet it seems in that area he had failed. another frustrating pang of hurt lodged in his chest. best to shove that down as far as he can. ]
I can't really help you, can I? [ he turns his head just to keep his voice from sounding muffled. ] I don't know where he is now. [ frustration laces his tone, he lets go of vash's hand to throw his arms around his brother's neck. ] Vash...
no subject
[ Vash jumped down from the pile of rubble he'd been standing atop, scouring the city for any signs of his very small, very missing, brother. It was possible -- probable, even? -- that when he'd vanished he'd returned to his own time, but enough strangeness had happened today that Vash wasn't about to take any chances. Octovern can wait -- if little Kni is here somewhere, Vash is going to find him.
Go to a bar, he'd said. If we're separated, go to a bar and use their radio to call Luida. That would be his first step -- every bar, tavern, inn, restaurant in December that wasn't boarded up or currently on fire was about to get checked, and thoroughly. ]
Kni, where are you!?
no subject
And then Vash's voice came again, only from behind, from a distance, and he blinked, in bewilderment before realization slammed into him like a blow to the head.
His head whipped around to the entrance to the bar, his sunglasses clattering down crookedly on his nose from where they'd been sitting atop his head, and he was clambering to his feet with a strangled "No fuckin' way!" before scrambling through the swinging doors.]
Needle-Noggin!!!
[And there he was, just down the street, obviously looking frazzled and like he'd seen better days, his hair streaked darker than he remembered it looking before. But it was Vash, the Vash he remembered, and suddenly he felt like he couldn't breath. Fuck! What the Hell did he say? "Oh, hey, long time no see?" or "Nice hairdye, spikey, think you missed a spot!" or even "Where the Hell have you been???"
None of it felt right, not after the last memory he had of him. No jokes, no greetings, none of it sounded right in his head. So he just stood there awkwardly for a moment, cigar hanging dangerously low in his mouth.
But oh. Wait. He'd been looking for the kid, hadn't he? He'd been calling out for his brother. Yeah, no. That made sense. He gestured at the doors of the bar weakly, straightening up and trying to regain his composure.]
Uh...hey. He's...the kid's in here. With, uh...with another you...
...Hi.
no subject
I'm here, Nai. It's all right. And of course you can help. You're here, too. We'll figure out what needs to be done and who gets to do--
[ Then there was another voice calling, for his brother, and Wolfwood was rushing away from his side, and a part of Vash's heart just sank, another loss, even while the rest of him was utterly and completely glad that those two found each other again. ] -- what.
And here, see? It seems the other me has found us. It'll be all right.
no subject
his head lifts when he hears that voice calling his name from outside. wolfwood rushes outside first, surprising nai with how fast he moves. slowly, nai disentangles his arms around vash's neck and reaches for his hand again to hold tight in his own. a heaviness sits in his chest that even vash's words of comfort can't dispel. it isn't alright. it just isn't.
he tugs at vash's hand, wanting to guide his brother outside with him. ] Let's go.
[ seeing vash outside, looking as frayed around the edges as he did the last time he saw him, nai breathes out. the idea of letting go of one vash to rush to another feels wrong and right and wrong - why does he have to choose? ]
Vash, I'm here. [ and surprisingly, he smiles in vash's direction. ]
no subject
But his hand hasn't even grazed the grip of his gun before the face in front of him registers, and everything just seems to stop. The wind whistling through the empty streets fades away, the frantic pounding of his heartbeat dies into nothing, even the words the man is speaking don't have any sound, because that man is dead. He watched that man die barely an hour ago. He sat next to that man and waited with him while his heart gave out. He listened to his last breath rattle through him, he watched him die, that can't be... ]
...Wolfwood?
[ His voice is so quiet he's not even sure he spoke aloud. There's some commotion behind the man, and two more people emerge from the bar. On another day, watching himself walk through a doorway would be mind blowing, but today the other Vash barely even registers. Kni, at least, gets a relieved smile, but Vash can't keep his attention away from the other man for more than a second.
It's not possible. He takes a hesitant step forward, hands flexing at his sides. It's a ghost. It's a vision. It's a hallucination, it's Legato's work, he's finally gone mad, it's a miracle, it's a miracle. His breath shudders painfully in his throat, and he claps one hand hard over his mouth to stop whatever foolish thing his heart was about to make him say.
He's alive. How, he can't begin to imagine, but god, thank god, somebody heard him. He's alive. ]
no subject
Hey, hey, it's alright, Spikey, you're alright.
[Everything he felt coming off of him was like a wire stretched dangerously taut that threatened to snap without a moment's notice. Normally, when he sensed that kind of energy coming off of him, shit was going to get messy. Normally, he was the one to get the messiest, because he knew he was going to have to be the one to make all the shots that actually finished the job.
This was different, so, so different. Not that he was surprised. He really wasn't. Unless this was another Vash from a reality that had gone differently than his own, then it was obvious by the color of his hair alone that Vash was...later? than he was. Had lived longer than Wolfwood had. Because of course he had. And he'd known when it happened that he was going to be leaving a lot of hurt behind when he was gone. That was just the way Vash worked. Especially with his friends. And at least for Wolfwood, he had absolutely been a friend. Closer than.
He gave a shaky little smile, reaching up and pulling his askew sunglasses off of his face so that he could hold eye contact with him as he stepped closer, letting his hands lower slowly so that he wasn't still warding off a defensive attack but still holding them out in front of him. Not touching, not yet, but there was an implication that he would reach out if he needed to, if Vash gave any indication that he needed the contact.]
It's just me, Vash. You're fine, just breath for me, ok? [He gave a soft laugh, his voice barely more than a whisper when he spoke as he began walking slowly closer, so slowly, silently cursing the way his hands suddenly wanted to shake and the way his eyes burned.] Don't start cryin' on me, ok? It's...been a Hell...a Hellova time. You might get me started, too, an' nobody wants that. I'm an ugly cryer when you get me goin', probably put you to shame!
no subject
It was all he did, as the air between those two got changed ore and mare heavily with all that was and had been lost.
After few moments, making sure that was steady and his own emotions bundled up tightly - when he was comforting a plant, letting his own fear break through never could help - he looked back down at Nai, smiling slightly even if his eyes were sad, behind the shades. ]
They might need a little time. It has been over two years for Wolfwood and I'm not sure how long for the other me. It's all right, we'll be right nearby and he won't worry when he can focus on anyone else again. [ He squeezed his brother lightly. Two years might be more than Nai's entire life. Or nearly twice as long, even. And even with Vash's own distorted scale, it was a long time to miss someone.
Someone you loved. ]
All right?
no subject
... but ]
Vash!
[ he calls out, holding up his index finger. ] You can have one hour. [ to have his catch-up chat or whatever. he thinks he's being very considerate here! ] Don't even think about leaving town, got it?
[ and for good measure, when he looks to wolfwood, nai sticks his tongue out with a comical blehh before turning back around to let vash led them away. ]
no subject
Vash! Kni’s voice breaks through the haze of loss and what-ifs and snaps him back into reality. He turns to his brother with a jerk, body moving long before his mind realizes what’s happening. His vision is a blur, Kni just a smear of light next to something familiar and red, and Vash scrubs at his eyes with the back of his hand until he can see again, because his brother needs him. Because no matter what happens, no matter what miracles he gets to bear witness to, his brother will always be his first priority. Always.
But all Kni needs is his attention, and his promise. You have one hour! he commands, standing there somehow holding another Vash’s hand. Don’t leave!, and Vash, still dazed, nods in agreement. There’s another him. He won’t leave, no, he’s already promised that he wouldn’t, but there’s another him. Wolfwood is alive, and there’s another him? But then Kni sticks out his tongue at Wolfwood, and the tension breaks so thoroughly that Vash sways with it. His relieved laugh sounds a little unhinged, and little too loud, even to his ears, but he can’t bring himself to care. It feels like approval, of this human who Vash can’t tear his eyes away from. It feels like acceptance.
He smiles hesitantly at the other him, with the strange coat and the beautiful green hand -- hello, friend -- but Kni is already leading that other version of himself away. Giving him space. Protecting him, even now.
And then it’s just him and Wolfwood. …Or is it a Wolfwood?
Now that Vash can breathe again, now that the initial whirlwind of grief and shock has passed through him, he can finally see the little differences between the Wolfwood he last saw an hour or so ago, and the one standing before him. This Wolfwood didn’t just come from a fight. His suit isn’t pockmarked with holes and stained with his own blood. He’s not… it’s not the same. Wherever he’s from -- whenever he’s from -- he’s not the man Vash just watched die. Is he? Just like Kni is his brother, but different, just like that other version of him isn’t him, this cigar smoking Wolfwood is Wolfwood, but he’s also somebody else. He’s somebody else’s.
But he’s still alive.
Vash would never insult Wolfwood -- any Wolfwood -- with one of his fake smiles, but real anger? It’s that or tears, and if he starts crying he’ll never ever stop, so anger it is. ]
Nicholas D. Wolfwood, I am so mad at you!
[ Leaving in the middle of the night to go and get himself killed! What was he thinking?! ]
OK HERE WE GO after dozing off at my desk FINALLY FINISHED IT
When he saw him swaying on his feet, he almost shifted to close the gap, worried he was going to fall, but then the sound of Knives shouting out from behind was enough to make the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, and he turned when Vash did, staring back at the kid in wary bewilderment. He realized dimly that the two of them intended to leave, and he felt a jolt of worry lance through him; No, Vash - the other Vash - couldn't leave yet! They had to find Nico, he needed to make sure they were both safe! He didn't want to just let him wander off, out of his life, even if he'd found his way back to the man he had known longer!
But he realized dimly that no, Nai had no intention of letting either of them go, and he settled down again slowly, before givng a bemused look at the kid when he stuck his tongue out at him, not even feeling the least bit ashamed when he returned the expression like the mature adult that he was.
He hadn't even looked away from the two as they walked off when Vash turned his anger on him, and his eyes widened slightly as his attention jerked back in his direction. It took him a moment, just looking at him, feeling the emotion coming off of him, before his own expression softened again, falling into something somewhat more neutral. Something apologetic.]
...Yeah, alright. I deserve that.
[His mouth twitched in what wanted to be a conciliatory smile, but it was gone before it could fully manifest. Two years. He hadn't seen him in over two. Fucking. years. And God, now that the shock of first seeing him was over, he found himself caught in a similar state of shock that Vash seemed to have been in moments before; unable to look away, studying every little difference, everything that was the same. The things that made him different from the other Vash, that his brain had started blurring in his memory the longer away he was and the more time he spent with the other one.
He gave a small, sharp exhale, an attempt at a laugh, as he reached up to flick at his own fringe, a gesture that was meant to draw attention to the little black tufts of hair that now hung down in Vash's face.]
Nice hair, Needle-Noggin. 'S a good look on you.
[Only it wasn't, was it? That was supposed to be bad, wasn't it? He wasn't sure what had caused it, but he knew that it wasn't a good thing, and he had never felt comfortable asking. So he felt like an asshole just as soon as the words left his mouth, and the attempt at a good-natured bit of ribbing ended just as quickly as it had started.]
Hey, Vash-...I'm...[His voice cracked, and he frowned, clearing his throat.] I'm sorry. I...I know you didn't want to hear it...I don't think I even knew how to say it...back at the orphanage...but...I am. I really fucked up. I didn't-...
[Ah, Fuck. Suddenly, it was like those two years hadn't happened, like he was finding himself suddenly awake and alive after feeling his heart stuttering and stopping in his chest and letting the darkness swallow him up, only this time it wasn't a man with a different-but-not face sitting next to him, looking lost and frightened for him and bewildered. He clutched at his shirt with his free hand, his heart hurting for an entirely different reason than it had then, but still hurting nonetheless.]
I didn't wanna distract you. You had more important things to worry about, but I was dumb. I shoulda known you wouldn't...You wouldn't...just leave me to-...[Fuck. Alright. He didn't have alcohol and post-regenerative fog clouding his thoughts and making it easier to say things he would never have said otherwise. And he didn't have the luxury of thinking he was hallucinating a man who was close enough to the one in front of him in his final moments that he could give his thoughts to freely. He shook his head, gritting his teeth against the hurt he felt, knowing how much pain he'd caused with one idiotic decision.
He took a deep breath, his face pulling into a frown, and when he spoke again, it was in a rush through clenched teeth as he physically forced the words out of his mouth before he could second-guess himself.]
I thought it would be easier for you, if I was just...gone. I couldn't leave the kids to die because've me, but you had more important things to worry about than dealing with the consequences of my actions. But I was stupid, I wasn't giving you enough credit, I should've known you...[And he'd lost steam again. He glanced away, his jaw flexing as he tried to keep his composure.] You've always been a better man than I ever could be. I'm sorry I...[Left you behind. Hurt you. Got myself killed. All of the above, and none of them he could force out into words, not yet.]
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They've seen enough black-haired plants by now, seen enough death, that surely Wolfwood knows what the black hair meant? Surely he'd made that connection, between Vash's hair and the hole in the fifth moon? Why would he say something so... mean?
But, a moment later, the shock fading, Vash has to admit to himself that maybe Wolfwood doesn't know what his hair meant. He's never come out and talked about it, that much is true, and there is so much they don't know about each other, even after all the time spent traveling together. So much that they pointedly haven't said, even when they should have. Even when it was something the other needed to hear, like black hair means my life is running out, or I care about you very much. They've never needed words, for so much of what they've been to each other... and for the rest, as Vash knows only too well after today, putting words to the thing just makes it real.
But Wolfwood keeps talking, for once saying things that need to be said, and Vash finds himself hanging on every word of what starts off as an apology, but then becomes just, well. Foolish.
You've always been a better man than I ever could be, Wolfwood finally says, and that's the last damn straw. Vash has heard enough. Before Wolfwood can wind himself up for another round of bullshit and self-pity, Vash swings on him, aiming to crack him right in his stupid, stupid mouth. ]
You thought I wanted you gone?! [ His voice is a hiss, even angrier than before. He can't even begin to imagine where Wolfwood would have gotten an idea like that! ] You came, and you risked your life for me just a week ago, when I was... [ He pauses, quickly glancing over at the last spot he'd seen Kni and the other Vash. They're nowhere to be seen, whichg probably means they're out of earshot, but just to be safe he drops his voice for the next bit: ] ...when I was on the ark. You came and you saved me. You saved my life, and you almost died doing it! [ His voice hitches, but he's not ready to break down yet. He's still got one more thing to say. ]
How selfish do you think I am, that after all you've done for me, with all those kids in danger, that I would turn my back on you?
[ He'd seen the look on Wolfwood's face when they'd heard about the ark moving toward December, he'd known what that meant, and he's been waiting for Wolfwood to feel recovered enough to come get him! And then one morning - this morning! – he'd woken up and the man was gone, not a word, not a note, not a goodbye. Just vanished. Gone to fight against who knew how many of Knives's super-powered army, all on his own, because he didn't want to be a distraction?!
That hurts. That may hurt worse even than Wolfwood's death had. ]
I thought we were friends.
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It also meant that when the hit came, he was unprepared, and it immediately sent him stumbling back, his cigar landing on the ground nearby and his sunglasses very nearly joining it when his hands shot up to press up against his mouth in shock. He was left legitimately reeling for a few good seconds, pulling his hand away to see the blood on his fingers as he worried at the split in his lip with his tongue. Shit. Vash clocked him good on that one. That didn't happen often. Especially not the later they'd known each other. And had it been any other moment in the entire time he'd known him, Wolfwood might have retaliated. A part of him even wanted to. They'd gotten into enough actual fights with each other over the years that it normally wouldn't have even registered as out of the ordinary. Hell, a darker part of his soul might have even kind of enjoyed it.
But this wasn't one of those times, and things are definitely not the same as they used to be. Even as he gave himself a moment to recover from the blow, even as he kept his face turned down and his body half turned away, he simply listened. Took in every single word, unconsciously biting at the split in his lip when those words hit him in a completely different way, when the crack in his voice made him feel physically ill.
When he had gone silent, Nicholas remained quiet as well as he tried to process what he'd said, for long enough that he began to feel uncomfortable. He couldn't change what had happened. He couldn't take back the things he'd done, and saying the things that initially crossed his mind were probably only going to make things worse. Vash deserved a response. He deserved an apology that would wouldn't make him hurt worse. Wolfwood...didn't know that he could give him one.
Finally, he shook his head, his brow furrowing both at something he'd said and at the sight of the blood on his hands suddenly spreading, diluting, dripping off his fingers to the ground before he realized there were tears mixing with it. Not that it did that much good; without the serum, his body had been healing less and less quickly over the past couple of years. And he'd refused to even look for more of the shit, not after what he'd done the last time. It wasn't worth risking even one. His lip was making a pretty nice little stain on the white of his shirt collar and the cuffs of his sleeves, dripping steadily down to the ground.]
'S not what I meant, Vash. I know you didn't want me gone. [No matter how much better for him it probably would have been if they'd never even met. But he knew that was the literal worst thing he could have said at that moment, so he held his tongue.] I just...I knew you'd want to come with me. I knew...convincin' you not to would take an act of God, and...
[And what, Nick? What brilliant idea did you have in your head that made you think it could end any other way than it did? It was the million-fucking-double-dollar question, wasn't it? What could he even say to the man that wouldn't dig the knife in even deeper than he already had? That he'd had every expectation of meeting his end when he faced the rest of the Eye? That he hadn't wanted to make Vash go through that? He had wanted the last thing he did for the man to be a mercy, taking the choice out of his hands so that he didn't have to watch someone he cared about be murdered, giving him the chance to do what he needed to without having those memories in his head. He knew the truth would just make him angrier, and Wolfwood was torn between wanting to keep from pushing him any harder than he already had, knowing how strongly he felt and how much he cared even if he'd never said it, and almost needing to push, to egg him on until Vash finally snapped and hated him as much as he deserved. The way he'd tried to do with the other Vash a couple days ago, when Nico had gone missing and they'd both spiraled into their own worst thoughts.
The thought of actually pushing him that far, now, though, hurt. It was what he deserved, it would have been so much better for Vash if he didn't care, if he hated Wolfwood as much as he knew he should. But now that he was here, now that the thought of seeing him again wasn't something he'd told himself was an impossibility and the thought that Vash hating him would mean he wasn't somewhere out there mourning his death was a moot point, the thought of pushing him away terrified him.
His face crumpled, a sob choking out of his chest before he even knew it was happening, and still, he couldn't look at him.]
You-...you said...you said a week? [It was the easiest thing to tackle, and probably the least important, but it was what his brain latched onto as he struggled with his words.] Vash...that...December was over two years ago for me. I've been stuck here-...wherever...I don't even know anymore...for over two years, now. Every fuckin' day, I've just...been...tellin' myself...it would've been better if you didn't care. I knew you were out there, somewhere, hurtin', an' I know that's my fault. I can't...nothing I do will ever make up for that!
[He glanced in his direction out of the corner of his eyes, his head still hanging low between his shoulders so that his eyes could only go as high as the straps on the tops of his boots, and mindlessly tried to wipe the blood off of his hands. It just smeared it further, and he grimaced. Fuckin' poetic ass bullshit.]
Heh. Freinds. Fuckin'...friends. Vash, you were legitimately the only fuckin' person who gave a damn about me in fuckin' years. Monsters like me don't get to have friends. Look at what I did with the only one I had. [He threw his hands up weakly, letting them fall back to his sides and not even caring that he was getting blood on his trousers. They were black, anyway. It wouldn't be the first, nor the last, blood stain that was hidden in the darkness of the fabric.] If it makes you feel better t'hit me, I won't stop ya. I've given you enough grief over the years, you're entitled to a few good licks, that's for damn sure.
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Two years. Two years of grief, two years stuck... here? Or somewhere, he'll ask about that later, but two years of being alone. Two years of feeling all this guilt, and pain, god. If this is the price of a miracle, it's too much.
If it makes you feel better to hit me, I won't stop you, Wolfwood says, and something in Vash's chest wrenches sideways. He steps forward, right into Wolfwood's personal space, but instead of raising his fist again -- an action he's already regretting -- he puts his arms somewhat awkwardly around Wolfwood's shoulders. As far as hugs go, it's a pretty pathetic one, but he doesn't know what else to do. ]
Shut up.
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It was definitely a different way of seeking out affection than the other Vash did, though he'd known that would be the case all along. The younger-looking man asked first, refused himself contact unless he was given express permission, and then clung to him like a child desperate for comfort. This...this was so much more what he would hvae expected that it might have made him laugh if he didn't already feel spread too thin and stretched too tight. Of course it was awkward.
The awkwardness didn't mean it made his heart clench any less. He turned slightly, leaning faintly closer, almost sank his head down to rest on his shoulder before catching himself and straightened up just a bit so that he didn't press too close even as he turned more towards him. He wrapped his arms around his own middle, letting out a soft exhale, and held up on of his hands with his thumb up. This is him shutting up, Vash. This is him actually listening to you, for once in his God-damned life.]
Mmm...Yep. Will do. [He wanted to reach up and grab the sleeve of the arm around his shoulder, but the blood on his hands did him no favors. He'd long felt like his hands were too dirty to deserve this. It was literal right now. This was the most he would allow himself, even with as much as he wanted to just cling]
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sorry, nai. sorry.
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[ because he's grateful. that nai listened to him, that nai is willing to give them time. (he doesn't try to catch wolfwood's attention, and he does wave back at the other him, but he knows that he is not part of that story. their story. the intensity with which they belong together takes his breath away... and also makes him feel very, very alone. but that is normal, isn't it? he was always going to end up alone, even since nai chose--)
when they get safely inside, vash will settle with his back against a wall, then hold out his arms in offer for proper hug. it's not like he can offer food or something to drink as comfort, but there is himself. ]
Hey. You must have questions. Or commentary, possibly.
[ he's all yours, nai. until you turn from him, or turn against him, he's all yours. ]
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he returns his attention to vash as his brother opens his arms for him. nai had never been the overtly affectionate twin, but for his brother he'd make that exception. especially when he can see how much vash needs it.
nai throws his arms around vash's middle, the highest he can reach with how tall his brother was now. he huffs against his stomach, brows creased. ]
Your friend is strange.
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a huff of laughter leaves him at the word that do come. ]
He rather is, isn't he? When I met him he was a hair's breadth from dying, as my version of him and I were traveling. I think it surprised him that he didn't... [ quiet, but deep sigh. ] He's been missing his Vash and I'm pretty sure his entire world since then.
[ ... beat.
another beat.
then nai gets softly poked in the side. ]
But also when you compare them to me and you and Rem, everyone would be strange.
[ his voice only cracks a little at the mention of her name. ]
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No, even compared to you and Rem, he's still strange. I don't care for him at all. [ but he can see how much his brother(s) care about the man, so there must be something redeeming about him. ]
And, he smells bad! [ it's the cigarette smoke, but nai doesn't have a name for the scent yet. ] You do too, but I can accept it from you.
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But it is always, always for the sake of others. For the sake of protecting others.
And... he is the first person in a very, very long time to see me as me. As a person. As someone, not something.
[ And that applies to both Wolfwoods. ]
So it's all right if you don't care for him. You don't have to - he's a stranger, he's weird, he's loud, he yells at me a lot, his presence can be upsetting, he calls me unpleasant things. Just - don't go out of your way to really hurt him. It'll be nothing new to him, but - the other Vash had to watch him die already. More harm to him will only make that worse. All right?
[ Beat. But this is Nai, and leaving things unsaid has too much chance to make him distrustful. ]
And you know what is ... ironic? The future you sent him to me, as a guide. Both... in his world and in mine.
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he looks up at vash and releases his hand to cup vash's cheek with his palm. ]
I see you, Vash. Even if we're apart, that won't change. [ he brushes his thumb over the mole under vash's eye before bringing his hand back to playing with vash's artificial one.
he tsks. ] If he ever makes you cry, I'll make him regret it. Even if I did send him your way.
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