nomans_land | Somewhere between July and December

Somewhere between July and December

1.
[ It wasn't the fastest car he'd ever driven, but it made better time than the old man's shitty station wagon had, and it was definitely faster than walking across the desert. None of the maps he'd found tucked under the seat had Hopeland on them, which was worrisome as all hell, but on one of the maps there was an orphanage marked, just off of a city called December.

The ghost he'd talked to on that mountaintop had told him he'd die in December, but that ghost had also ruined his last cigarette, so fuck that guy. If he died, he died, but first, he was going to make sure Miss Melanie and the kids were okay.

The sedan hums its way across the desert, kicking up a dust cloud that can be seen for miles. ]

2.
[ With a shudder and a hard jolt, the car comes screeching to a halt, the dash going dead as the engine seizes up. Wolfwood swears, punches the dash, then swears again when the solid dash nearly breaks his hand for his trouble. He'd managed to get the car hotwired, but apparently cars in this messed up version of Noman's were more different from the ones he knew than he'd realized. Is it out of oil? Out of charge? Not like he can do anything about it, whatever the problem.

Please ignore the man in black, standing next to a very dead car in the middle of absolute nowhere and screaming at the sky. It's therapeutic profanity, and it really is helping. ]

3.
[ Sunburned and exhausted, Wolfwood crests the hill and finally, there before him, sees the building that his map identifies as the December Orphanage. Even from a distance it's clear that the chaos that's affected the rest of the planet hit here, too -- there's clear bullet holes in at least one side of the building, walls that have collapsed, and the whole place seems as deserted as everywhere else he's been.

But he's here now, so he might as well have a look around.

He really wishes he still had his Punisher, though. ]

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[ That smile is confusing as all hell, and for a moment the confusion is written all over Wolfwood's face. Who grins like that when faced with the threat of the kind of violence Stampede knows he's capable of? He's already beat the asshole to the ground once today, so why's he grinning like that?

Is it because he's trying to get a rise of of Wolfwood? Has all this bullshit about guilt and blame just been Stampede here needling his way into getting a reaction? Wolfwood's been saying this whole time that he's not like the dead version of himself, but he's been treating this asshole like he's a Vash, like there's something the same in all of them. But maybe he's been wrong about that.

Maybe this guy's just cruel in a way Wolfwood hasn't encountered before in somebody with his face. ]

Oh, Needles... [ His chuckle is icy cold. ] What am I gonna do with you?

[ He can't kill him -- he could kill him, probably. Maybe. But he's already responsible for the death of one of these bastards, and for reasons he doesn't want to dig too deeply into right now, he doesn't really want the blood of a second idiot on his hands. He can't beat the asshole into pulp -- apparently Needles here is into that. He can't leave him behind -- they both need to keep heading for the nearest town before they run out of water and die out here, and he's not mad enough to sacrifice himself just to hurt somebody else.

No, they're stuck together for now, until they hit town. After that? Well, he'd better not see this guy again.

Wolfwood -- no, the Punisher -- glares daggers at Needles a moment longer, then turns on his heel and, once again, starts off on the path again. But this time, as he turns, he leans over and scoops up a a couple walnut-sized stones. They'll give him something to fidget with on the walk, and give Needles a surprise if he feels the need to keep talking. ]

[The confusion he saw on Nicholas' face was...unexpected, and confusing for him, his smile dropping to a bewildered, questioning stare. What was that for?

Had he been doing the face-thing, again? Not reacting the way he should? Maybe. Shit. Great. As if he wasn't uncomfortable for the man to deal with as it was. He gave a little shrug at the question, as if it wasn't a thinly-veiled threat, the bewildered look lingering.]

I dunno. If you figure it out, lemme know. I, uh...don't really know what to do with myself half the time, either, if I'm being completely honest.

[The look on his face morphed into, surprisingly enough, something of a wounded expression as he watched him turn and snatch a could of stones off the ground on the way out. It was a real expression, not something he was doing for an affectation. That glare, an unspoken threat if he ever saw one, and the obvious action of arming himself with the one thing that had set Vash off not long before were completely impossible to misinterpret, and something about that obviously upset him as he slowly began following after him.]

Hey, I meant it earlier, alright? Hit me if you want, but...just leave the...stoning for scared townsfolk. Please.

[He was probably asking too much, after the obvious frustration he'd put Wolfwood through. He wasn't there, he didn't have the very unhappy memmories attached to the event now rolling around in his head, and he might have even argued that it wasn't much different than Vash poking at emotional wounds the way he had.

Part of him wanted to argue even before it had started that it was different. The other part of him figured it was about exactly what he deserved, as much as the idea was already making him visibly cringe.]

[ He doesn't want to get pelted with stones, huh? Wolfwood pockets most of the rocks, but keeps one in hand, tossing it up and down to make sure Needles here sees it. ]

You gonna keep telling me who I am? [ Toss, and catch. Toss, and catch. ] What I've done, like you were there instead of me, and how I'm supposed to feel about all that shit?

[ A higher toss, and a catch with a satisfying smack against his palm. This rock's got a bit of weight to it. ]

Because you sure couldn't hear me when I was just using words. Can you hear me now?

[He opened his mouth, wanting to argue that he hadn't been trying to tell him who he was, he wasn't trying to tell him his feelings weren't valid, just that he might not have all of the important information, and he hated seeing him hurting over things that were out of his control, but...he stopped. Closed his mouth again and just stared at him before his face fell to something a bit sadder but also resigned.

He sighed, his gaze dropping to watch the path in front of his feet and gave what mostly came off as a full-body shrug. Arguing with him was just going to make things worse. The Nicholas back home had slowly begun learning not to blow up quite so violently at him over time, but he'd still been just as prone to violent outbursts, in the beginning. He shouldn't have been surprised.

Even if that was, again, comparing this man to the other. In his defense, the similarities were still clear as daylight if one knew what to look for, and his brain was just trying to latch onto what was familiar, what was safe, when the entire situation was more than a little uncomfortable, for both parties.]

I just hate to see people hurting. Doesn't matter who it is, I just feel the need to help. It's how I've always been.

[It helped make it feel like he wasn't completely useless, like his existence wasn't an unnecessary burden and danger on everyone and everything around him. If he could just help people be a bit happier, then maybe that would make things a little bit better, right?

But he doubted Wolfwood cared to listen to his reasons, and with him already ready to start flinging rocks, the less words said, the better.]

Well fucking stop it.

[ I need to help, he says, like that excuses anything. It's just another way to say that he thinks his way is the right one, and everyone else is wrong and needs to be fixed. It's the same line of bullshit Wolfwood's been hearing all his life, only worse -- the Eye didn't pretend to care about him when they told him what to think and how to act. Their violence was honest -- they were remaking him to be a servant and soldier of the new world.

Needles, though? Who knows why he's doing any of this. Is it arrogance? Stupidity? Wolfwood doesn't know, and honestly doesn't care. ]

You're bad at it.

[ All he knows is that it's really getting under his skin. He doesn't have the time or the inclination to give a shit about anybody, and he's even less interested in anyone giving a shit about him. ]

...Yeah. I've noticed.

[He'd been told so many times how wrong he was, how foolish he was, how little the world worked the way he hoped it would. But honestly he didn't care. But it only made it worse, every time something went wrong. He refused to give up on the hope, though, no matter how hard it was sometimes or how often people pointed out the logical flaws.

He was quiet for a while before he looked up again, gauging something with the position of the two suns and then squinted in thought before glancing back over at Wolfwood.]

So if you want to head to Octovern, we'll need to start heading more south-easterly from here. It's up to you. I'll follow where you decide.

[Wolfwood had said he should head to Octovern if there was no on in December, but he seemed intent on being contrarian about everything, and Vash was increasingly too tired to argue with him. Whatever he decided, it made little difference to him in the end.]

[ Needles opens his mouth again, and Wolfwood braces himself for more stupidity. Thankfully, though, this time all the idiot wants is to talk about their route. That's acceptable. ]

No can do.

[ From his inside coat pocket Wolfwood holds up a metal bottle of water, just under a liter in size. ]

This is all I've got on me, and last I looked at the map, Octovern's more than a day's walk away.

[ He can go longer than a day on that much water -- he's gone much, much longer than that on less before -- but walking across the desert with a swollen tongue sucks. ]

I thought you were leadin' me to someplace closer than that.

[ Or was that a lie? ]

[He was mildly confused, before the small canteen was held up, and for a moment he actually opened his mouth to chirp out that he had more than enough water to get them at least that far, before the little accusatory quip made his mouth shut again with a small snap, and he gave him just a bit of a glare.]

No, I meant-...I was just-...[He groaned, running his hand down his face in frustration.] I thought you knew where you were going! You started walking so determined in one direction, so I started following you!

[So ok, they were both a bit idiots. He sighed, his head rolling back to stare at the sky.]

Look, if you keep heading towards December, even when you reach the next town over, it'll put you that much farther away from Octovern. I've got enough water to get both of us to the next stop either which way, so just pick a direction.

[This was not helping him shake the "contrarian just to be contrarian" allegations.

Really, he's spent his entire life wandering this desert. He knows how to safely navigate all of it, even better than he knows himself. He's not that much of an idiot, Wolfwood.

Though, if the other man chose a vastly longer route to take than was necessary, he wouldn't be opposed to a few "I told you so's" once the inevitable complaining started up. He's letting you make the decisions here, but he's not above a little petty snarking if he felt like you'd made a choice just to spite him and it bit you in the ass. Even if that meant it was also biting him in the ass, too.]

[ Oh, there's no way he heard that right. Wolfwood jams the bottle of water back into his pocket and stalks over to Needles, murder written all over his face. ]

What the fuck do you mean, you were following me?! [ He thought Vash was leading the way! He was following him! ] Are you tellin' me we've been going in the wrong direction this whole time?!

[ This... this is why he doesn't trust people! This is why he works best alone! ]

Are you fucking kidding me?!

[Wolfwood can stalk up to him all he wants, he's certainly not intimidated by him. Though his irritation and exasperation are beginning to reach astronomical levels, because he cannot be serious right now.]

We started walking, in the direction your car was pointing, and you didn't tell me where you were headed until after we were well on our way. I just assumed you knew where you were headed and were leading me. [His voice isn't raised, but it was obviously on a tight leash, and he may have even sounded like he was speaking in nice, short sentences so they would get through his thick head.]

Why is everything an argument??? I'm trying here, I really am! You know I'm emotional, I've been trying not to be, I'm trying not to compare you to Him, I'm letting you take the lead so I don't step on your toes, but everything I do makes you want to fight me! [And now he's just getting upset again, the grief combining with his frustration, and he just wants the arguing to stop.] I didn't want to make you do this, I was happy to leave but you didn't want me to, but you won't stop acting like me just being here makes you mad, and even just trying to get you pointed in the right direction is making you lash out, so what do you want from me???

[He was crying again, near the limit of his patience, but now he was glaring. He wasn't sure what about the whole thing hurt the most. This wasn't fighting like he'd done with Nicholas, this was something deeper, and he supposed if Wolfwood blamed himself enough for death of the Vash he'd known in his reality, being around him was probably making his emotions as raw as his own were. But he'd gone out of his way to get him to come along, when Vash had been content to leave him with the stuff he needed to get to the next town, and now everything was a fight.

After a moment of just frowning at him, tears rolling down his face, he just gave a long, exhausted sigh, forcing the anger down and out of his face for something that was almost...a quiet, imploring sort of plea.]

Please, Wolfwood. I don't want to fight with you. I'm fine if you don't even want to be my friend. [Honestly, it was probably better for him, anyway. Safer, especially if he didn't have his Punisher or...those serums.] Just stop fighting with me every step of the way. I'm too old for this, everything hurts and I'm tired.

[ The snarling retort that was building to all of that bullshit dies in Wolfwood's throat at that last bit. Lord in fucking heaven but there's only so many times he can kick that sad-eyed dog before he starts feeling bad about it -- the man can't help being pathetic, can he?

This, right here? This is what friendship does to you. This is what caring about people does. It makes you weak, makes you vulnerable, puts you at the mercy of people who don't have a drop of love in them. Too old and tired, yeah, he hears that lesson, and trust that he's learned it.

He needs Needles here with him still. He needs the man's gun, more precisely, and they're a package deal. He needs the man's supplies too, since he's doing inventory -- if Stampede's right, and they've been heading toward December instead of anywhere closer, then the water he's got on him won't be enough. The only way he's getting out of this sand pit alive is with a miracle, or with this asshole here.

He is really, really starting to hate this version of the world.

Wolfwood glowers at Stampede for a long moment, considering all his options -- such as they are -- before giving in with a shake of his head. ]

Octovern's southeast from here?

[ I'm fine if you don't want to be my friend. This fucking guy. ]

[There was a perplexing series of emotions flickering across Wolfwood's face as Vash stood quietly and waited, and he had to bury the instinct to try and figure out what was going on in his head through sheer force of will, redirecting his thoughts as far away from the thought as possible. It was honestly a bit of a mercy when he finally did answer, and it was just a short, simple question to clarify the direction he'd given.

At the very least, it was enough to make him release a slow, quiet breath he'd been holding as he waited for the next snarled retort. His head bobbed in the affirmative and he grunted out a wordless answer, relaxing in fits and starts.]

Octovern's southeast, December is that way. [He gestured in the direction they'd been heading before his hands returned to the unconsciously-defensive curl they'd previous taken in front of his chest.] December is maybe a dozen or so iles closer, but there'd be no guarantee we'd find the supplies needed to restock when we got there, and continuing on to Octovern after stopping there would almost double the distance in the end. It's up to you.

[He let the information linger in the air for a breath before having to pull his gaze away, and he took the moment to try and center himself, at which point he finally seemed to realize he'd been holding the old lighter in his hand all this time. He grunted quietly to himself in mild surprise, patting down his breast pocket before tucking the thing back in its proper place and patting it down again just to reassure himself that it was safe and secure where it belonged.

And then, there wasn't anything left to distract him again, so he sighed, stuffing his free hand into the pocket on his hip, and looked back up at Wolfwood expectantly.]

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Somewhere between July and December

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