VASH 🌱 (
procreation) wrote in
nomans_land2023-06-11 10:37 pm
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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.
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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You... were right.
[ Not a person, not a person. Just his brother's tool. Nai. Fuck, why... why is he still so scared that he isn't here with him? He's going insane, isn't he? He can't concentrate, he can't think, every time he tries to focus all he sees are faces of people he has killed... and how is Wolfwood here? He's dead, he killed him, he tore him apart and liked it.
Monster. He deserves no mercy.
Even so, he's repeating that cluster of thorns again, all focused around him like the organic iron maiden with himself in the middle. Not yet. He can't be allowed to die yet. ]
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Not again. He's running before he realizes it, charging full speed toward Blondie, and the holstered gun at his side. Vash won't shoot that thing, can't kill it. But Wolfwood doesn't have that problem.
He's not gonna watch it kill Blondie, too.
AS soon as he's close enough, he's gonna grab that gun out from beneath Blondie's coat and empty the whole clip into that thorny fucker's face. Vash can be mad at him all he wants, so long as he's alive enough to be mad. ]
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NO WAIT STOP, THERE ARE KIDS. INSIDE. THERE ARE KIDS INSIDE HIM???
[ This is going swimmingly. And he isn't even sure what is going on, but this part has to matter, right? ]
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Before he reached up, slapping the top-break loading mechanism so that it would pop open and eject any bullets that might have been in the barrel before they could be fired.]
KIDS! NICHOLAS, HE'S GROWING KIDS INSIDE OF HIM! BABIES, HE WAS SCARED I'D HURT THE BABIES! STAND DOWN, WE DON'T WANT 'IM GOIN' BERZERKER MODE AGAIN!
[Did he know that would happen? No. But if the thought of hurting innocent children wasn't enough to make the other Wolfwood stop, maybe the threat of making Vash go back on his murdering bullshit again if they were threatened would.]
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The soft praise of his older brother in his ear. ]
Please... they're too young, they won't survive. Do whatever you want afterwards. [ He's not begging for himself. He never would, he deserves it and so much worse. No, he'd welcome death, especially when it's the man that he's killed twice... didn't he? Vash can still remember hot blood on his cheek from tearing Wolfwood in two and he's still here somehow. God, he's really losing it.
Haunted, near-empty eyes look straight to that barrel and then up at the man holding it. Maybe if he shot him just right, he'd be harmless until the children are ready to be born. ]
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...and then Blondie jumps in his way and that fucking asshole dead Wolfwood pops the goddamn gun open, and they're both yelling something about... ]
Kids?
[ Look, he might be a nobody from nowhere, but even Nick Wolfwood knows what fucking pregnancy looks like, okay? And okay, plants are weird, but unless he's hiding those babies in his thorns? There's no goddamn kids here. ]
What the fuck are you all talking about? [ To Blondie: ] Get out of my way! [ And, snarled, in the other direction where he can only assume that asshole ghost is: ] And don't ever touch my fucking gun!
[ It's not his gun at the moment, but it's the principle of the thing! Now, will somebody please let him shoot Thorns before he kills them all? ]
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[ There is actual bile at the back of Vash's throat, making his voice thick, his eyes a little dead. If it's early enough, they wouldn't show, you know?
And no, he's not moving aside. He's not grabbing at the gun, his mind shorting out far too much for any sensible action, but. Standing between others and death, that's the one thing he's got, isn't it? When it comes down to it.
And he's not exactly terribly good at it, either. ]
Vash. You might want to explain a bit more.
[ And he is positive he doesn't want to hear what that explanation will be, but he must. A deep breath, and a very, very quiet, ]
I'm sorry.
[ To Wolfwood. Both of them. To the other Vash. ]
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The anger the other him lashed out with snapped him back out of the brief stupor he'd found himself in, though, and he snarled, turning back to look between him and the Plants. Because of course Vash wouldn't risk children being hurt. He was still honestly just surprised that the other Wolfwood was still so eager to pull the trigger.
But it dawned on him; Vash was talking as if they'd spoken to him before. Wolfwood had intentionally run him over.]
You guys've met before...!
[He only let himself be confused for a moment before he reached up, grabbing the latch that kept the gun cocked open and unloaded.]
Or what, pendejo? You gonna shoot me? Just wait a fuckin' minute so we can figure out what the fuck's goin' on first!
[He leaned in close enough that he could whisper right in the other Wolfwood's ear, hopefully so that the Vash who had put himself between the barrel of the gun and the other man wouldn't hear it when the words hissed out through his teeth.]
I was bringin' 'im to you guys cuz he wanted me to kill 'im, but I literally can't, and wouldn't, if there are kids involved. We figure that out, I won't argue if that's what's decided, an' I'll even take 'im "home" once hes on this side so you don't have to worry about him followin' you around for the rest of your miserable life. And hey, you'll even be rid of me, too! Two for one sale, how does that sound?
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I... he wanted to use me all along. He said everything he did, the Fall, everything was for me, but then... then he needed my gate for his plans. I tried, I tried to fight but he took over my mind and I forgot everything. Everyone. T-the dead one, he... now I remember everything again.
[ Dirty hands find his hair once more, grasping at the mess of golden strands. ] Nai wanted more independents and he used me to make them. Over and over and over and I can't, I can't let them die. They're innocent.
[ His nails dig into his scalp, and he can't look at anyone, he can't stand it. ] I'm sorry. I'm sorry I killed you. I'm sorry I killed you again. I killed everyone and I liked it, I liked it! Why?
[ Vash lets out a mad little laugh, somewhere between hysteria and grief. ]
He named one Rem. I didn't even remember her and he still did that.
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But then Thorns says he used me to make them and everything starts slotting into place.
He doesn't know a thing about plant biology, couldn't point to a gate with both hands and a flashlight, but he sure knows where unwanted kids come from. The details don't really matter, do they? He doesn't need to know the details. ]
It's okay.
[ He's just staring, stunned, unable to accept what he's hearing and only barely aware of what he's saying. ]
It didn't take.
[ Knives named one Rem, god. He's going to be sick. ]
I thought they... You said kids, and I thought... I didn't know.
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His understanding of gates is still incomplete, but he understands in some visceral way the horror of what Nai has done, which goes beyond the obvious. ]
You tried to fight it, you did your best, all right? This... this place, it brings people here, from different versions of our story. But not everyone. So far, not very many of him, so I think for now you are all safe for him.
But sometimes, it pulls people from other times, also. Rem is here. And Tessla... Some sisters were holding her together, and with their help, she is whole again. Not in pain.
So just breathe as much as you can for now. Apparently, in this place... people who die return again. At least... at least Wolfwood did, earlier. [ This last part also an explanation to the ghost. But also, oh, he knows how efficiently he is killing his other self's hope right there. ] We'll have to figure out some other way to help you.
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Instead, he snarled, growled, a sound that he didn't even intentionally make audible but still somehow rippled through the air, distorted and inhuman in a way he didn't know he was capable of.]
Change of plans. While we wait for the kids, we find that fucker an' we make 'im pay. Or just me, can't kill what's already dead, can you? Drag 'im to Hell myself if I have to...[He didn't know if he was intending to be heard or if he was just venting his rage out into the air, but it was audible nontheless, and for all of the dangerously-calm tone, even his speech was coming out strange and warped with malice he wasn't quite present enough to register.
It may not have helped that as soon as Nicholas had stopped trying to fire the gun and had fallen into his own shock, Wolfwood had had to step away, cracking his knuckles uselessly and pacing against the unbridled fury, so that his voice must have seemed to travel formlessly across the dunes, untethered from reality.] Then...then we just...decide what to do afterward. Get the kids somewhere safe and...and...
[The thought "put the poor fucker out of his misery" died on his lips, but it didn't leave his head, and it only made his rage stronger, the thought that that would be the kindest thing for him, for Vash of all people, amplifying his need to lash out and hurt someone. It would be a mercy, it would be a kindness, the words repeated through his head in a long-forgotten cycle of justification that did its best to stem the flow of disgust and horror he felt over what he thought was both the best and most horrific option, the only right one to make.
And even still, he felt like this might be what broke him.
The miserable, hysterical little laugh was what finally seemed to break through the fury, though, and he blinked, looking over as if slowly becoming aware of his surroundings again, and suddenly the rage was mixed with guilt and sadness. He must have thought Wolfwood's blood was on his hands. He was blaming himself for his existence. And he hadn't exactly discouraged that misconception, had he? He stepped closer, crouching down into the sand so that it was obvious he was speaking to the broken man ripping his own hair out on the ground.]
No, Vash, no, it's ok, look, I'm not him. I'm not the one you knew, I lied about that, I'm sorry. I'm not your fault, you don't have anything to apologize for, Mijo, it's... [What? He trailed off in bewildered shock, looking up at the other Vash, up at the other Nicholas. What?
Fuck. Fuck. No wonder the other him was so quick to pull the trigger. Fuck.
He couldn't dwell on that right now, he couldn't get sidetracked. There was a story there that he desperately needed to hear, but he couldn't think about that right now. That would have to come later.]
...It's ok, I promise. I'm not mad at you, we're ok, he is ok, see? You just relax, nobody's gonna hurt your babies, you're gonna be ok.
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[ It's okay, Wolfwood says, like Vash didn't tear him into two pieces because he was bored. Like he didn't watch his corpse in his other self's arms and saw nothing but trash. Like he didn't kill Wolfwood once before, while the man screamed for him to wake up.
...and the other Wolfwood too, talking to him like he deserved any comfort, any kind of salvation. His other self sinks the nail into the coffin and Vash sinks his own nails into his flesh, tearing at his scalp. No death. No death. That's what he deserves, isn't it? Endless horror, endless torture for all the things he's done.
He can't recover from this. There's no way. He can't even try to atone because he's already doomed everyone, already started the tip into humanity's extinction and he can't stop it. All the independents, all the children he was so happy to make, now felt like the deepest of violations.
Nai. Nai did that and he was supposed to be his brother, he said he did it all to protect him. When did they become so different? When? When did he decide a tool was better than a brother, taking everything from him?
...then more words sink into his damaged mind and Vash's breath speeds up, panic flooding his veins until he thinks they're going to rupture. Rem. Tessla. The breathless sounds of agony quickly turn into another scream, curling up in the other him's lap.
He's shattering, he's shattering and he can't think. ]
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If there were any bullets in the gun in his hand, he thinks, looking down at Vash's piece, he'd do it himself, and the other two could be mad all they liked. But fate's not that kind. ]
Blo-- Vash. [ He holds up Blondie's gun by the barrel, then tosses it over. If Vash doesn't catch it, it'll land neatly at his side. ] Hit him. Knock him out.
[ Unless his gate is in the back of his head, it won't hurt any babies he might be carrying to be unconscious for awhile. ]
He doesn't need to be awake for this.
[ What they need is someplace to put him under and keep him that way, for as long as required, until... well, until. There's no hospital that Wolfwood can think of that he'd trust with a plant though, not on the best of days, and this world sure isn't doing its best right now. Someplace like Home, then, where they're familiar with plants and could be trusted not to cut him open and play around with his insides.
But even if he knew how to get to this world's version of Home, he wouldn't risk bringing Thorns there. If the conditioning kicked back in he slaughter everyone on the ship, and Wolfwood won't be responsible for that.
The idea of Home sparks an idea, though. What if, instead of taking him to Home, they brought Home here? Luida's in Octovern, that's what the radio said, and surely it's the same Luida. Surely she can help.
Turning his back on the two Vashes, Wolfwood drops his voice low, hoping that the other Wolfwood is near enough to hear him. ]
Hey. Asshole ghost. How fast could you get to Octovern?
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He's your brother, it's okay to love him. You did not fail, he failed you.
I'm sorry for all that you were through, and all that will happen yet. But rest, now.
[ His hit on the temple is aimed perfectly and with enough strength to do the job. Then the gun gets holstered and his fingers go back to soothing even though it matters less now, trying to heal as much as he can, shoulders sagged. That scream keeps echoing in his mind, over and over again. He can hear what Wolfwood is asking, but for a moment any words are little more than static around that scream. ]
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The question made him glance up, and he chewed on his tongue as he thought. How long would that trip have taken, before? Days, right? Maybe a week? He wasn't sure. But he didn't need to stop for sleep, for food, for any of the things that kept a human body safely functioning and comfortable, and he'd been pretty good at neglecting a good few of those when the need arose, even when he had.]
Quicker than you could. Unless someone else is driving, it's still just foot power for me, but I can walk all night if I have to. I'm assuming you have a plan.
[How he could possibly help with that was another question entirely, but he knew he wouldn't have asked if he hadn't already been thinking three steps into whatever it was he was cooking up in his head and had already worked that part out. And, honestly, it was better than Wolfwood could process right now. There were too many thoughts rolling through his head, too many things he'd tried not to think too heavily on since he'd been thrown onto this version of a dustball that were demanding his attention now that this fresh new Hell had decided to drop into their laps, and too many questions about what had just happened. He needed a moment to process all of it.]
I need to know what happened, with you two. Call it a...well, can't exactly call it a professional curiosity, but a personal one. 'Cause you start talkin' about death not takin', and I'm sure you'll understand just why that has me a little fucked up right now. Whadda you mean, exactly?
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There's nothing to tell. [ Nothing that he really wants to share, anyway. ] I died, then I came back. It's a fuckin' miracle, say hallelujah.
[ Shit. They can't keep hitting Thorns in the head, they can't take him anywhere that he might wake up and kill everyone... what's that leave? Where could they go? Who can they trust?
He doesn't know. ]
As for Octovern, I was thinking about getting Luida to help. I figure there's nobody on the planet who knows more about plants than she does, and she's trustworthy. But we've only got one car, and there's no way I'm takin' him into the city.
[ They could call her on the radio, maybe? But that's still a long drive, plus it'll put Rem and that brat Nai at risk. ]
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[ For a moment, he closes his eyes. ]
There are too many vulnerable people around Luida. And definitely not at Rem's. There is a place... but I need to be closer to ask if they will take him there. It's a town of independents.
If they will not, I'll find somewhere to hole up with him. Should be safer for me than anyone else.
[ He. Is hoping that makes sense. His mind feels sluggish, stuck in the echoes of what the other Vash has been saying. And his suffering. This... if this is his future... ]
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[What the fuck was this place doing to them? Why? And what the fuck did it mean for someone like him?
He shuddered, suddenly tense, and for a moment he let his grasp on the living world slip, turning his gaze behind him when he found himself in the void, and just like always, when he wanted to see it, the light was there. Calling to him, still. Inviting him home. But now, the thought sent a little tremor of fear through him. What if he tried, and it was shut off from him? Was it that their souls were held back from leaving their bodies, until something put them back together? The other Wolfwood, by all rights, should have been on this side right now, there should have been two of them sitting here.
He didn't know that it was a good idea to try seeing what it meant for someone in his position to cross the light. He didn't know what sort of weird fuckery messing with something like that could cause.
He shook the vision of the light out of his head, snapping himself back into the reality of the living world, where suddenly things felt...strangely safer, for now.]
Whatever you decide, I'll help. I'm the only one he can't hurt. The least I can do is be there in case he loses it again. We don't need to add anymore blood to his hands, he's already fucked up enough as it is.
[He had seen what having to kill Legato had done to Vash, all those years ago. This was magnitudes worse. The shock he felt that he'd been as composed as he had been now that they'd broken through his programming was not going to go away any time soon. One life had almost killed him, let alone...this.]
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Where's this town?
[ A whole town of people like Vash? Like Millions Knives? That sounds like the kind of place a guy like him should stay far away from, but Blondie can't drive, and the ghost is dead, so he can't tap out of this little adventure quite yet. ]
Guess I'm driving. Let's get him in the back.
[ They can't stay here, they can't go to Octovern, they don't even know where Home is... Plant City it is! ]
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Towards... towards Ablus Scutum. I will let you know when to stop, when I can get in touch with Delphinium. If they agree to take him in, I'll probably carry him the rest of the way.
[ Perhaps there is another way other than the rickety-seeming lift, but it doesn't really matter. It will be better if the two of them go alone. ]
I... thank you. Both of you.
[ And he's sorry, but Wolfwood's words from earlier, about blaming his other self, still sting enough that he does not say that. ]
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It also put him in a place he could keep an eye on Blondie as he sat in the passenger seat. There were thoughts rolling through his head, worries, questions. Things he felt would come to a head and need to be spoken about if he let them keep brewing in his head, and he wasn't quite sure where to start, or how. But it was things he needed to work out, regardless, with Vash specifically. Which made it even murkier, because he wasn't quite sure what the best way to broach the topic would be.]
Don't need thanks for this, Blondie. I couldn't leave it like it was, and it's better for everyone if you got someone he can't hurt, in case things go tits-up. It's fine.
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But that's fine. That'll keep him focused.
While the others settle, Wolfwood pulls out one of the maps that's stuffed under the driver's seat, the one with the road between July and December marked out. Albus Scutum is a hell of a drive, and he's only got that one jug of water Rem gave him.
Guess that means they need to get there quickly, huh? ]
Tell me the second that guy twitches.
[ And he floors it, and they're off! ]
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[ Vash will share what food and water he has on him, which, out of habit, is not absent, even if he was spending time at Rem's so technically didn't need to stock up. And by share we mean that he'll give it all to Wolfwood.
That said, he might not utter another word for a good long while, at least not unless spoken to. He has... a bit of stuff to process. And no idea how to process. it. ]
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[That was why he was in the back and not sitting between them on the center console, after all.
The silence that settled over the car after they sped off was definitely not comfortable, and it wasn't long before he began to grow listless. Not long after that, the faint memory of cigarette smoke began to fill the car, after he manifested another imaginary smoke, to give his hands something to do and to try and help settle his own nerves. Every so often, he glanced back at the unconscious form beside him, his chin leaning on an arm where it was propped up on the empty space on the seat near Vash's head.
Wait...shit...did his smoking count as second-hand exposure? Did unborn Plants get defects if their parent was exposed to that before they were born? That was something that could happen in human babies, right? Shit.
He shook the memory of a cigarette away not terribly long after he'd "lit" it, waving his hand in the air to try and disappate what wasn't actually there.]
Sorry, Spikey, my bad. [The guy wasn' even conscious, but he mumbled it anyway, just in case.]
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