VASH 🌱 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
procreation) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
nomans_land2023-06-11 10:37 pm
procreation) wrote in nomans_land2023-06-11 10:37 pm
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.
no subject
[ It's an amazing place, and Vash realizes that he's been sulking in his loneliness when he could have gone out and explored a city of free independents more thoroughly than resent them all for not being his children.
It's not Eden, not yet, but... it's the closest thing to it. ]
I do like the defensible location. We would be difficult to reach if an attack would come from fools with guns. I heard that there are people from Earth in ships, though. That might be more of a problem, so they better know to stay away rather than trying to leash a whole city.
[ He sips his juice again, mostly drinking to socialize since he stopped needing to when made 'perfect'. Sleeping, though? Yeah, Vash's... doing that a lot more these days. ]