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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It had been enough days, and he really didn't think it was going to do any good, but Wolfwood couldn't help journeying out into the desert where he'd found himself after the earthquakes hit, hoping to find any sign of the Vash from his home. He really should have left Rem's place ages ago, but he hated to leave, now that her and the other Vash knew he was there. He knew they would worry, as pointless as it was to worry about a guy who'd been dead for who knew how long, but they would regardless. So...he stayed, and he watched the deserts for any sign of the man he was supposed to be following, and he waited, hoping that nothing happened to him in the meantime.

Which was how he found the figure that morning, a couple iles out from what was supposed to be JuLai (July? It was hard to be sure, he'd never seen the city in his childhood, so he had no way of knowing how alike the two cities were to know the difference) and approached quietly.

It was obvious it was Vash, regardless of the weird thing he was wearing, walking around barefoot in the fucking desert, and looking...looking as if he didn't know what the fuck he was seeing as he picked up some poor son of a bitch's skull and then just tossed it like a piece of garbage.

Something was wrong, here. Very, very wrong. And he didn't know that he was the best person to address it. But...he didn't want to just leave him out there.

So when the man sat, perched on those weird branching vines that seemed to be the form his..."feathers" took, Wolfwood sat, too. Not far away, watching him and waiting. But not talking to him, no, he had been making an ass of himself with that too much, lately. Back to silent and watchful it was.

He reached out gently as one of those vines slithered by, flicking one of those strange, black flowers with his fingertips, mildly curious as to why some versions of the man manifested their powers like something out of an illustration from the old testament, while others ended up manifesting these strangely beautiful flora. And why this one in particular seemed content to manifest them in seeming perpetuity. They were a sign of stress, weren't they?

"Surprised you're not losin' your shit right now. If Spikey had this much power showin', he was a fuckin 'wreck. Maybe just another one'a those differences, I guess?"

[ Vash wiggles around a bit in his seat, finally settling in a lazy lounge almost on his stomach and staring at the horizon with a bored look on his face. Any attempts to change location wasn't working, so maybe he wasn't pulled into his head at the moment, but actually in the desert.

Huh.

It seems a bit weird that he was left out here, because he was barely even allowed to leave his room any more because of his overprotective brother. Vash can't remember if he was bad lately, so it couldn't be a punishment..? Then something flicks on of his flowers and the blonde frowns, withdrawing the vine to look at it. It wasn't a bug bite or anything, it looked completely fine. ]

Naaaai, this is a weird game....

Oh, of all the people-...The fact that he could apparently feel when one of those little flowers was touched was one thing, but had he just called him by the name his brother used to have? He is not Millions Knives, thank you very much!

"Oi! Have a little respect for the dead, dumbass." Not that he really expected him to know any better, but he was still going to say it. He reached out and flicked another flower in a tiny, petty show of retaliation. Still silent, though, still letting him be blissfully unaware of the dead man sitting right next to him. "And maybe get out of the suns! You're pale enough, you're gonna sunburn just as red as your stupid coat."

Now he was just being childish. He couldn't remember a single time he'd seen the man take any damage from the suns. He was probably the luckiest SOB on the entire planet, especially considering how pale he was. Anyone else with that complexion would have burned up into a shriveled little husk, even with the shade those vines were giving him overhead.

[ Sadly Vash is none the wiser about his ghostly company, even if poking his flowers is weird as shit and he withdraws the next one as well with a confused squeak that... at least sounds a little more like the normal goofy Vash. It fades pretty quickly, however and he's now looking around with a little more wary expression.

Sadly he doesn't know anything about a red coat to compare his nonexistent sunburn to. It's all body suit and weird cape here, what do you mean he used to be less eldritch in his fashion style? Or full of damage? Nai had healed all his wounds after some time of being good, so the only leftover is a tear at his ear where the earring used to be, no little gold ring glimmering in the sun. ]

Zazie? [ That's the only one left he can think of that would play with him like this, and could use some insects to poke his flowers. ]

Nai's gonna be reaaaaally mad if you disturb the babies.

[ He sounds so unlike himself, no guilt or grief, just a slightly spoiled attitude and mild amusement. ]

The dumb little squeak he gave got an amused snort out of him, but it was short lived. There was just...far too much about this that felt...off. And none of it has to do with the fact that he's currently sporting all of his limbs, though a little voice in the back of his head tells him that that has to be related, somehow.

And then he made his own indignant squawk, his mouth hanging open as he stared up at him with a look of utter disbelief.

"Zaz-!? Why in the Hell would your brother give two shits about a bunch of baby worms??? You have got to be the weirdest Needle-Noggin I've met so far! Is this what you woulda been like if you hadn't gone through the Big Fall??? What the Hell?"

He reached both hands out, holding them over a couple of vines, and then furiously ruffling two whole lines of flowers right where he could see them, like a petulant child.

There was only so much one ghost could do when he wanted to act out, but didn't actively want to hurt or upset someone. Normally he would go for the little things that amused him. This was just too weird for even that, and he had to do something.

[ The lounging blonde continues to not really pay attention to much... until the flowers are touched again. Instantly, two-feet thorns erupt from their center, like sharp spikes striking outward towards the touch. Vash turns his head with a too-wide smirk that really doesn't suit him, and honestly looks a little disappointed when he doesn't strike blood. ]

Aww. Miss?

[ Nai doesn't really play with his enemies. Too serious. Vash had always been more sociable and playful twin, and when 'fun' now means doing anything you want with your human toys, you end up with twisted, playful cruelty. After all, what are humans worth? Nothing, Nai says, and Nai is always right.

This wasn't a human, though. None of them are invisible. ]

I was sure I was going to at least nick something...

The last thing he was expecting was for Vash to lash out, for massive thorns to shoot out, straight through his body, drawing a gasping, garbled scream from his throat as he felt his entire body seize up, lightning jolting through his mind and blanking every thought in his head until he collapsed and tried to make his body work well enough to scramble away.

What the fuck? What the actual HOLY FUCK?

Vash, it's me, stop, Vash, holy shit, what the fuck!

He stumbled to his feet, focusing all of his energy on manifesting in front of him from a distance, his arms held up placatingly. He's not armed, he's not a threat, it's just Wolfwood! Screw trying not to upset him, there was something seriously messed up with this one, he'd rather upset him and get him to calm the fuck down than be a good, polite, quiet spirit like he always was!

[ Oh, there's the screaming. What a weird voice, coming from out of nowhere - and then there's a suddenly person there. Just... appearing out of thin air. That's really interesting, because humans can't do that, and Vash does bother with non-humans.

He likes Zazie well enough. You know, for a bug.

Leaning on his arms and half-draped on his galaxy tree dais, Vash watches the new thing, with absolutely no recognition in his eyes whatsoever. No fear, either. Just mild curiosity. ]

What are you supposed to be?

Edited 2023-06-12 18:13 (UTC)

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...

That right there, the blasé, weirdly detached demeanor this guy has, how wrong he seems after having just done something that would have outright killed Wolfwood if he'd still had a life to lose, was the first time in a long, long time that he'd suddenly remembered what it felt like to be afraid of Vash. To remember that he wasn't human, that he was powerful, and if he weren't such a good person, if he didn't keep such a tight control over his powers, he could be unfathomably dangerous.

He's not even alive, and he's terrified of the guy.

It doesn't help that there doesn't seem to be any recognition in his eyes whatsoever. He knew Zazie, he knew Knives, but he doesn't recognize Wolfwood? Was he from a world where they never met? Was he from a reality where he had gone along with Knives' awful plans? The thought of a Vash that had been just as murder-happy as his brother felt so wrong.

He needed to warn the others. At least this time, he knew for a fact that this was Vash, and wasn't making a massive misidentification.

...And yet that thought, remembering how he had read Tessla so wrong, and that she was apparently doing better, now, made him pause when he had been ready to dematerialize and run back to Rem's home.

"'S just me, Needle-noggin." He kept his voice as nonchalant as he could. "Still Wolfwood, just...less livin' than you last saw me, that's all." Play dumb, get him talking, figure out what the Hell is up with this guy and then go from there. It wasn't like he could do him any actual harm, anyway. If anyone were going to fuck around and find out, he was the best one for it. "Turns out dyin' doesn't really mean everything just stops, so that's good, right?"

[ 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. ]

[ There's still no recognition in those cold blue eyes, not even at the mention of 'Wolfwood' or the old nickname. Just a little bit of annoyance hinted at his features from being called such a disrespectful thing. ] What is a Wolfwood?

[ Nothing about this thing makes sense. It sounds human, looks human but is... dead? Dead is dead, it's not supposed to become invisible and walk around. Vash doesn't like it, it feels like some kind of trick. ]

Dying means everything stops. That's the point of it. It's not good at all. [ If the dead walked around, there could be millions of invisible things like this one. ] ...but I wouldn't put it past pests like humans, I suppose.

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Tragic Ends VS Bad Ends, Trigun Flavor

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