nomans_land | Tragic Ends VS Bad Ends, Trigun Flavor

Tragic Ends VS Bad Ends, Trigun Flavor

CW: mildly Plantcesty bc of canon end events but mostly toxicity, mindfuck, extreme codependency and.... co-parenting?

Somewhere in the sands is a tall person traveling on bare feet, a cloak of galaxies and roots covering their face from the sun. Vash moves slowly, not because he's tired or struggling, but because he's not really in a hurry. He doesn't get tired anymore, or hungry. Just weak, sometimes, but he's always been weak, hasn't he? That's why his brother has to protect him.

So this place couldn't be bad, because Knives would never leave him somewhere bad.

He stops briefly to collect a bleached skull left in the sand, picking it up with the roots and wisps of shadow and then holding it with the curiosity of a detached scholar rather than a compassionate man. Human, by the looks of it. Not killed by one of their brood, just unlucky in the desert.

Shrugging, Vash lets it drop into the sand again like an unwanted piece of trash and lets all those roots and glimmering energy unfold around him. He makes a little seat for himself, black flowers with shiny blue specks acting as cushions as the rest of his cloak peels away for a canopy. The dark undersuit is an echo of his brother, including the sturdiness of four perfectly fine limbs.

No memories were left, physical or otherwise. Sometimes you just have to remake your little brother to make him understand your point of view, and Vash... doesn't really know any better, anymore. It's fine, all he needs to focus on is making new Independents.

The roots continue to stretch over the sand, slithering over the area to see if they can pick up anything other than old bones of a doomed race.

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He almost misses it. The suns are in his eyes, his water's nearly gone, the radio hasn't picked up anything but static for over an hour, and there's something wrong with the front right wheel that's making the car vibrate in a concerning way. Wolfwood's half watching the desert in front of him, half scanning over the map spread out over the steering wheel, checking for any town between here and December that might be big enough -- or intact enough still -- to have fuel, water, cigarettes, because this car is about to die, and he's got no plans to die with it.

It's just a flicker on the horizon, and at first he thinks it's just more rocks. But the color isn't right -- it's not the dark brown-red of stone in shadow. It's black, and very few things out in the desert are black during the day. Is it a person, out there wearing all black in the desert heat like some kind of idiot? He's grumbling as he turns the wheel, but he can't just leave them out there, can he? With his luck, it's another him, out here skeletonizing in the middle of nowhere.

And then he sees the roots, and everything slows down. He knows those roots. He watched them climb out of the tower in Julai and destroy the town, roots the same color as the wing Stampede had sprouted when he fell out of the sky. Roots that crushed everything in their path. Roots that are now stretching out across the desert, with a human-sized shape in their center.

He should get back in the car (when did he get out of the car? Suddenly he's standing beside it, mouth agape, with no memory of stopping) and drive away as fast as he can. He should flee... but he has to know. He has to see it for himself.

"Blondie?"

Edited 2023-06-12 15:42 (UTC)

[ The sounds and glint of a car in the distance catches Vash's interest, blue eyes following it as it turns in his direction. Did Nai send Legato to pick him up? No... it's some other pathetic creature. A lost human, he thinks at first, roots starting to curl up more protectively around him, shielding himself in the hood of darkness and starlight.

Then it comes out and stares at him like an idiot, so Vash cocks his head a bit to the side, a too-wide, sharp smile on his lips. Blondie, is it? Not my Lord, not Angel, not even Vash. It's insulting and a little funny at the same time, to be addressed like that.

It seems like it knows who he is, though... and instead of fleeing, it comes to gawk at him. Humans have such bad self-preservation instincts sometimes! ]

Yes~? [ Vash finally replies, a little bit sing-song to his tone as he looks at Wolfwood with no recognition in his eyes, just slight amusement. ]

[ Every instinct is screaming at him to run, to start shooting and not stop until his clip is empty, to pray. The roots and flowers are bad enough, but that expression doesn't belong on Stampede's face. He's an idiot, not a monster, and this thing here? This thing is monstrous, just like the creatures that climbed off Priest William's slab.

Is this even really him? Is it really the Stampede? Wolfwood doesn't approach any closer -- he's not that stupid! -- but he raises his hands to show Blondie here that he's unarmed. Just here to help, pal, please don't bite his head off. ]

Are you doin' okay over there? You look a little... [ He gestures broadly at the pile of vines at Stampede's feet. ] ...stressed out.

[ It's smarter than he thought, to keep its ground and make a show of hands. Still being awfully familiar with him, though... like he's supposed to know who it is. It's not like Vash can remember every underling they have, they usually get replaced so quickly anyway. Only the Eye of Michael remains somewhat useful in their fanaticism, if so only to raise the first generations of their brood. Not even Vash can be a doting enough father to five hundred or so by now. ]

I'm not stressed. I'm just waiting for Nai. [ He starts, roots lowering to a more relaxed state. The way he says his brother's name is close to religious in its absolute trust, far too creepy for the standard sibling love. ]

Or did he send a useless toy here to pick me up?

[ Now those eyes narrow, the pretty blue turning so very cold. A split second, and then sharp roots have embedded themselves deep into Wolfwood's knees. ]

[ No version of Stampede, in any universe, should talk about Millions Knives with that kind of... of reverence. He's made a mistake, Wolfwood realizes, a big big mistake, and he needs to get away from this Vash immediately.

But before he can take a single step, before he can even start to move, those roots snap forward and then there's nothing but blinding pain. He screams, and falls to the ground, legs unable to support him, hands going instinctively to his pockets to find a vial. But he doesn't have any -- hasn't, not for months. He can't heal. No vials, no gun... no kind of luck. ]

I work for him! [ It's a desperate gamble, but what other option does he have? He tries to keep his hands raised and visible, for all the good that did him a moment before, his voice tight with pain. ] N-- Knives, Millions Knives, I'm one of his! I serve him, don't...!

[ Humans make so much noise when they break. Vash watches with a bit of aloof curiosity, pulling the desperate little rat closer with his bloodied roots. It screams about working for his brother and Vash huffs a little. He hasn't seen this one around at all... completely forgetting that he killed a ~~friend~~human with that face a long time ago.

It was just vermin. You don't have to remember the faces of trash. ]

That's okay! [ Vash says with a pleased, twisted little grin. ] Nai doesn't mind if I teach you some manners.

[ The great Millions Knives spoils his adoring brother too much. ]

[ The roots stabbing through his knees drag him toward the dark Vash, and Wolfwood grits his teeth until his head throbs from it to not scream again. If there's a way out of this he sure doesn't see it, but like hell if he's going to die begging for his life. ]

I'm sorry.

[ This isn't the Vash he wants to apologize to, but he's the only one here. Congrats, you thorny bastard -- you get Wolfwood's deathbed confession, such as it is. ]

I'm sorry about Julai. I'm sorry I didn't stay with you.

[ He can't imagine what tortures Knives must have put Thorns here through to break him this badly. Maybe he couldn't have done anything, maybe Knives would just have splattered him into a wall and still taken Vash, but he should have tried. He shouldn't have just walked away, he should have at least said something. Anything. Anything other than slinking off like a coward. ]

[ That's a little more impressive. Taking the pain like that. Keeping screams in as its dragged over the sand by its bloody knees, tissue and kneecaps fucked up beyond repair. Even if Vash didn't kill it personally, the human would die in the desert anyway, unable to walk.

He doesn't stop until it's a broken thing next to his dais, apologizing for Julai for some reason. Why? ]

Julai... huh. [ He hasn't though of that place in a long while. ] Mmm... oh, that's where Nai fixed me. I didn't need humans to stay with me and our children back then, so your apologies aren't really the right ones.

[ Another root, sharp and lightning-fast, spears the delicate in-between of bones on Wolfwood's lower arm. A strange callback to the odd bones in a discarded crystalline prosthetic. ]

We are your gods. Let me hear some praise.

[ He's ready for the killing blow. Any second now, Thorns is going to stab him, or pull him apart, and he's ready. He's ready. If he's got any luck left it'll be quick, but even if it's not, he's made his peace. It'll be okay. The kids will be okay. Stampede -- Blondie -- is back at that other town with his mom and brat brother, he'll be okay. Knives's puppet will see how a man dies, and it'll be okay. He's done.

But then Thorns says something about children, our children, and it breaks Wolfwood's concentration enough that the spear through his arm makes him cry out. ]

Children? What...? [ He can't move his fingers anymore, but that doesn't matter. All that matters is the kids, and the only kids he can think of that Knives would be calling ours are the children from the orphanage. The children he sacrificed the man in front of him to save. ] What children? Don't hurt them, they're just kids, please.

[ Really tough, this one. It seems to be just waiting for Vash to kill it. No struggling, no begging... until he mentions the little ones. He raises a brow, tugging Wolfwood even closer so they're face to face. ]

Why would I hurt our children?

[ He asks, looking confused and a little more at edge. They're the only ones that matter, after all. Humans don't even care properly for their offspring, so often leaving them to fend for themselves or die in the sands. So why is this one worried? Was it planning something? ]

They're all perfect. Just like Nai.

[ Something about the way he says perfect sends a shiver down Wolfwood's spine. Or maybe that's the blood loss? He is feeling awfully light-headed, and the pain, while still present, feels distant, like it's somebody else's injury. ]

Perfect.

[ Priest William liked to talk about making his monsters perfect, too -- perfect killers who didn't need to eat or drink, perfectly obedient, perfectly designed and replaceable. He was remade to be perfect too, and look how far that got him. There's nothing he can do, though, is there? Even if Thorns is talking about kids from the orphanage, even if they are building an army of tortured children, what can he do about it? He's already dead.

Were Vash's eyes always that blue? There's nothing on the planet that color. How come nobody ever notices that? They're so blue. ]

You're prettier'n he is. [ There's something wrong with his tongue -- it's getting hard to form words. It's kinda like being drunk, and oh, man, what wouldn't he give for a drink? Even just water -- he's so thirsty. ] Does that make you more perfect?

[ The man is painting the sand dark red, lifeblood flowing out, and all Vash does is watch with that detached amusement. So easily destroyed, humans. Just a clip of their delicate wings and they slip away, just like the beat of this one's heart. Struggling so hard to keep up with the lack of blood.

Making its head all fuzzy and soft. Cute, almost.

...and funny, how it remembers its praise now. Beautiful words fitting the way the angel of humanity's destruction. Even praising him beyond Nai is a little bit of a thrill, honestly. Of course, Vash knows he's not perfect. He needed Nai to fix him, after all. He was broken for so long, he could never be as perfect as his brother. ]

I am as he made me.

[ He says with a sweet, if soulless smile. Then another root spears through the human's midsection, puncturing the vital organs. Not an instant death, but it shouldn't be long, now. Vash just liked to watch the light leave their eyes slowly. ]

[ This is what he deserves, Wolfwood thinks, the idea drifting gently around in his mind, untethered to anything like guilt or regret. Just a simple idea: he led Vash to Knives, Knives broke Vash, and now Vash has killed him. He did a bad thing, and bad people get punished. That's how it should be.

His heart's pounding too hard, trying to move blood that isn't in his body anymore, and it's keeping him awake. That's not fair. Shouldn't he be unconscious by now?

I am as he made me, Thorns purrs, and Wolfwood shakes his head. Nah, he wants to protest, you were pretty before he got his hands on you. But something stabs into his guts before he can figure out how to get his thoughts into words, and oh. That's not a pain he can drift away from. That's hot coals in his belly, that's pain that he's only felt a handful of times, and it's always been followed immediately by the sick slide of bitterness down his throat and the nauseating feel of his body putting itself back together. Not this time, though. This time the pain stretches out until there's no before or after -- he's always been here, a bug pinned to a wall, while a nightmare he wanted to call a friend watches him convulse.

It would piss him right the hell off, if there was any room left in him for anger.

I am as he made me. The sound he makes might be a laugh. ]

Me too. [ Oh, there's the darkness. Finally. ] Think I got... th'better deal...

[ Vash is still not quite up to his usual self, but with Rem and Nai and having visiting Tessla to look forward to, he's less stuck in a fugue.

But all of that gets forgotten when he suddenly finds himself somewhere else entirely, to see Wolfwood going limp in the hold of... roots?

Before he can even take everything in, he's running towards them. ]

Let him go!

You didn't. [ Vash says, almost fondly ]. You made the mistake to be born a human.

[ Just as the voice is heard, just as the other Vash is running towards them, this Vash curls the roots inside his victim's guts and then rip outwards, sending two pieces of a forgotten friend to the ground.

Blood taints the sand even further. Vash wipes some off his cheek and doesn't give the body a second glance, instead looking at this... mirror running towards him. He cocks his head to the side again in that unnerving manner, briefly wondering if it's one of the first generation?

Not, it looked too much like him. ]

No, stop!

[ and then his too late, familiar body broken in half, so much blood staining the sand and he's late, so late, again, like Knives told him.

Midnight hued wing spreads and he's flying, to the body, to gather the pieces and hold it, even for a moment. His eyes turn to...

Oh. He frowns, staring at the eyes that are and aren't familiar at the same time.

After a long moment, he sighs, closing his eyes, grief overwhelming. For Wolfwood, for his twin, whom he can feel over this version of himself so completely.

For this version of himself. ]

I... see Nai decided he doesn't need a brother. Just a tool.

[ It's... weird to see someone looking do much like himself dive to hold already dead pieces of a human. Like it was important and not just trash. Vash kind of wants to tut at him and tell him to go wash his hands, admonish him about getting himself dirty like that, but this wasn't one of their little ones making their first mess.

This is a version of himself made from nightmares or lost pieces of his cleaned mind, a still sick, incomplete Vash that hadn't been reformed yet. It's so pitiful, honestly. Someone with his face, not knowing how perfect Nai is. ]

A tool? That's crass of you. I'm the real brother. [ Frowning, he reforms his roots and shadows to cover up more, a mirror of Nai's strange organic coat. ] We're happy, while you're still sick.

[ Vash doesn't let go, his heart breaking. And he does what he does best at times like this.

He smiles. ]

You can't be a real brother if you're not a real person.

Pain is not sickness. It's being alive.

[ He's still holding that cooling body. Disgusting, to see someone looking so much like he did show such illogical affection. Maybe if it was still alive, he could see some childish affection for a useless pet, but it was dead. Done.

Vash sighs at the 'insult'. This other-him sounds so weird, and smiling like that? It made no sense. ]

I'm not a real person? I'm perfectly real, thank you. I know my place in the world.

[ it wasn't meant as an insult, merely a statement of fact. Vash is brushing bloodied hair out of Wolfwood's face, memorizing each line of his expression. ]

A person remembers. A person knows more than the place he's been assigned. A person. Aspires, rather than acquiesces.

[ Another small sigh. Then he looks back up. ]

And, more than that, you're Vash. I think that will mean something to you again.

[ Vash bares his teeth like he wants to snarl at this double. What did he know? Broken, flawed little thing. ]

I remember Nai. That's all I need.

[ It's all that's left, and only a hint of brotherly affection made sure he even remembered that. Vash is content with his life. He talks to his brother, he surrounds himself with the seedlings and he has everything he could ever need.

He doesn't even have to go out there and fight. Nai is too protective, saying he's too precious to risk. ]

I know I am Vash. It means the world to him.

Mm. [ the smile turns a little sad. ]

As you are now... He thinks it's what he needs. But it won't be enough. It won't be enough to take away his pain. Oh, for a while, certainly. But there will be more things for him to be afraid of. And when you are not fully yourself, but a shadow of Vash, moved only by his wishes, it won't be enough.

I know you won't believe me. But Nai, brilliant and amazing as he is, always forgets the simplest things that make the world different from the stark shadows that always threaten...

Us.

[ He frowns at that, roots and flowers rising like he's defending himself from the words. A shadow of Vash, the double says, like he isn't the shadow of him. Lost and broken. Sick. ]

What does a twisted thing like you know? He's happy, and I'm always there for him when he needs me. Plus he has our sisters and our children. Hundreds of them. There's nothing to be afraid of for any of us.

[ There's something wild in those eyes, like he's trying to convince himself, too. ]

It will always be us.

And there are Terrans here. [ he's not asking about the kids. he can't ask about the kids. not yet. ] They have their own independents. He'll have something to fear again. And he won't have a brother who thinks for himself. If they attack two places, he'll be afraid again.

What I know is that acting on your fears is never the right choice. You used to know that, too. He never learned it.

But you can teach him, can you not? He trusts you. But you need to be all that you are.

[ He doesn't know what Terrans are, but now he's listening more intently when faced with a threat. He'll ignore the needling points that Nai is afraid, mind bent into fanatic trust and love. His brother is perfect. He'll handle everything. ]

We'll outnumber any threat soon enough. Two generations are already adults.

[ Those cold eyes narrow, tired of hearing this sick shadow of himself telling him he's not enough. ]

I am everything I need to be. He fixed me, I'm better.

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