nomans_land | In and around Octovern -- later

In and around Octovern -- later

0. A message on Radio Plant
It's not heard, exactly, telepathy doesn't work with the ears. It sounds like Knives - one of them anyway, threaded with a weariness he can't hide like this, and echoed with the feminine reverberation and power of a sister plant. He doesn't have the power to do it himself, but whether she's just signal boosting or if he'd taken the step to merge with her the way he did so many others ... is unknown.

Every plant will hear it, if all goes well. Including the very one Vash had headed out to try to confront..

Vash the Stampede, one of you, has decided to go to Octovern and reignite the conflict with my younger self in spite of it being quiet these past weeks. I know there's at least three more of you out there; I would appreciate it [irony etches that 'voice' briefly]if you could collectively make sure this doesn't go the way it did in the past. If I have to come out there myself, I'm going to make it everyone's problem.

So let's make sure it doesn't go that far. I am certain that together, all of you can find a way to resolve this with no further pointless misery for our own kind.

1. Just outside Octovern
The sour-faced young Wolfwood who picked Vash up only a few hours into his hike to Octovern hadn't been in the mood to talk. He was heading for December, he said, and didn't want to hear anything from any fucking Vash about why he shouldn't go there. Vash had tried to explain to him that Melanie and the kids weren't there anymore – they'd been taken away by Brad to the ship days ago, but Wolfwood didn't want to hear it. He needed to see the place for himself, and Vash, on a similar mission, couldn't argue the point. So Wolfwood drove in silence, and Vash was able to close his eyes and get some real sleep – only occasionally interrupted by strange dreams, including one where his brother tried to warn him about heading for Octovern! Aren't dreams strange? – for the first time in what felt like weeks.

The cliffs around the city – and the remnants of the ship that had crashed there – made for an excellent vista point, so that's where Vash headed first. From the top of the cliffs he could see the whole city, and clear signs of a fight that had to have happened several days ago, perhaps longer. There's scorch marks on the cliff face, craters around the city, military vehicles mixed in with the refugee vans and trucks... but the city itself seems pretty peaceful. It looks like Knives was right -- the fighting is already over.

2. Main St and Market, downtown Octovern
Given the state of the rest of the planet, walking into Octovern is a delightful surprise. There's people here, more people in one place than anywhere else on Noman's right now. Refugees and locals, crew from the Earth ships and local military police, they're all mingled together in one big, bustling town. The streets are full of vendors, cars, people, all talking and shopping and arguing and laughing as though the terror of the last year never happened.

There's some excitement at the end of the block, though, raised voices and a lot of movement... and then, startling the crowd, sudden gunfire! Out of the crowd comes a single man, wearing a red coat and with spiked up black hair with a blond streak, running as fast as he can, and behind him? Behind him are a lot of people – bounty hunters, a couple local feds, people waving guns and autograph books, a whole mob of folks, all hot in pursuit, all yelling: “It's Vash the Stampede!

Help?

3. Out in the desert, heading back to July
He's escaped the mob, but given how many people are looking for him now, it seems best to take the long way back, and avoid any additional attention. His brother, this world's Knives, and this world's Vash, have both vanished. The war is over, the plants have been rescued, the Earth leaders are meeting with local government... and he's not needed at all. It's a relief – of course it is! – but he's spent so long dedicated to this fight that he's not really sure to do with himself now that it's over.

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He likes that look! If he thought he could get away with hair dye he'd probably give it a go, at least until he found out what it means when a plant's hair starts turning black. But it's definitely noticeable, and makes him look just like the guy on the wanted posters; Vash gets away with it by virtue of looking like he's fifteen or so, not in his twenties. And it's going to be some years yet before that changes.

Hand set on his hip, he considers the hair, the diatoms, and the lack of a handkerchief, weighing options. "Maybe it'd be enough if it just isn't sticking up," says the kid who's hair would definitely be sticking up in exactly the same way if he were cleaner, "And don't put this on me, it's not my fault I don't want you to get shot up." Well, it is, since he's the one wanting it, but that would be too sensible. "I know a place you can keep the coat, but we'll probably have to stay out of the suns if you burn easy." HE burns, presumably every plant can burn, and this one's wearing stuff nearly head to toe so maybe he has sensitive skin.

The worm would have been easier to eat. "...You can have the donuts anyway if you want them. I won't be eating them." Maybe in a few weeks he'll give another one a cautious try, but the idea alone of trying again made his stomach roil.

[ One offer of donuts he could refuse, with great effort. Two offers? It would be rude to just leave them here to dry up and get dusty, wouldn't it? ]

Well, maybe just one. [ He could put away the whole box in under five minutes, but his younger self doesn't need to know how much of a glutton he is quite yet! Besides, they're going to go get lunch. If he's got salmon sandwiches in his future, then he doesn't need all those pastries. ...He wants them, he just doesn't need them. ] And you don't need to worry about me! I don't burn easily.

[ The box was over here on this rock, wasn't it? Vash heads over, combing his hands through his hair as he goes. The mess really doesn't want to lay down -- it's going to take water to flatten it out, and he doesn't want to waste what little drinking water he has left on this disguise. Looks like rock dust might be the solution after all. ]

And a good thing, too. I figure I've walked the whole circumference of this planet ten times by now!

[It would be TOTALLY rude to just let them go to waste! What else could eb done with them besides leave them to the worms, at this point? Taking them is just the reasonable thing to do!]

I think there's.. maybe six or seven. I don't want them to go to waste, I just can't ... actually eat them.. yet.

[Homeless, lonely donuts in need of proper appreciation. He trails after the older plant, making a couple half-hearted attempts to clean himself off a little. Thankfully his bandage is still firmly in place and he wouldn't have to put up with any uncomfortable stump-washing, just a changing of the outermost wrappings.

Don't think about it long. Move on, before it brought up memories of--]

Ten times? How fast do you go?!

[It's not a small planet! And as far as he knows people have only been here about eighty years, walking the entire width of a planet would have to take a good chunk of that, never mind multiple times!

... Maybe it's an exaggeration. Maybe that heavy looking jacket kept the worst of the sun off, even his face didn't look that tanned.. but that could be a plant thing, for all he knew. Maybe that's why he just burned instead of tanning. Should he get a big jacket? Vash frowns faintly, brow furrowing. Jacket, and layers. Hm.]

Hey, what's your name anyway? I'm Vash.

[LIEK THE WANTED POSTER. But he's too small and coincidences abound.]

[ It's a bit of an exaggeration... but only a bit! Walking an average of, oh, ten to twenty miles a day, over a hundred and fifty years... the miles add up! He did the math once, , years and years ago, and really, it's a wonder that his boots have held up as well as they have.

He just shrugs at the comment about his speed -- he goes as fast as he goes, as fast as the terrain and the weather and his mood and his being-pursued status allow! -- and leans over the donut box, humming with indecision. They all look so good! How can he be expected to pick just one? That's like picking only one puppy from a box of strays -- it's simply impossible. He might have to take one for the team, so to speak, and eat them all. Yes, the longer he thinks about it, the more he has to accept the sorry truth -- every one of these donuts needs to be eaten. They were made to be eaten. They want to be eaten! He's merely the agent of fate, an avatar of a great cosmic hunger that seeks to balance the scales between emptiness and pastry. This is his destiny. He must...

...wait, what did he say?

Vash turns to Vash, confusion written all over his face. ]

What do you mean? I'm you. [ Although, given the vagaries of time travel and multiple universes... ] Or I was you. Or I might have been you, if you weren't brought here. Probably. [ Did that clear things up? ] There's a lot of us here! Vashes, I mean. [ Sorry, is this a lot to take in? He waves, a tiny gesture with just one hand. ] Hello! I'm also Vash.

[It would be a terrible waste of all the effort either a person or a plant went into to make those donuts, so it's just right and proper they be consumed by someone who will fully appreciate them.

It's still hard not to be a little bit envious. The last time he'd had a donut, before the most recent incident, it had been just fine and delicious and NOW.. now he's stuck with bland boring things and vitamins because it's healthier. A pox on all healthy things, he wanted horribly unhealthy fried things and sweet things and everything that would probably make him terribly ill.

Nothing is immediately said to the confused look or the revelation that follows, just a slow rise of eyebrows. This isn't actually the first time he'd heard about something like that, he'd just completely tuned it out the first time mostly thanks to being in terrible shape and decided it must have all been a really bizarre fever dream.

The younger of the two makes a move that looks like it had been intended to be crossing his arms before he gives up on it. This could also be completely true, but it could ALSO be complete bullshit.]

Uh huh. How many is a lot? And if everyone's Vash, where's our brothers?

[This recontextualizes an earlier bit of conversation, when he'd asked basically the same question, but it's in a way disappointing. Knives might consider the wisdom and experience of an older plant, but probably not if that older plant is him.

An older him who can't catch a worm either, which didn't really bode well for his chances for getting enough protein in the near future.]

Edited 2023-07-12 00:04 (UTC)

[ Vash nods -- of course he's concerned about Knives. A bunch of Vashes is funny, strange, potentially explosive, but a bunch of Knives? That could be truly dangerous, especially given how fresh that injury of his looks. ]

The plants in Octovern, all our sisters just over there? Somehow they brought us here to help the fight that just happened a few days ago, with this world's Vash against his brother.

[ For all the good it did -- they'd spawned across the face of the planet, far too far away to be of any help. Or at least, all the Vashes he's met did -- maybe there were more! Maybe there were dozens of them, and their combined strength was the reason that the plants had been returned and Knives was missing. Getting real information from their sisters was complicated, and the little he'd heard from the humans in Octovern had been confused, to say the least. All he's sure of is that Knives was right -- the fight they were brought here for is over, and now that their sisters are no longer joined together, they don't have the strength to warp spacetime and send them all home.

Given the ratio of Vashes to Knives, that means that there's several worlds out there now with no one to stand against their brother. He's trying really hard not to think about that, and what it means for the people in those worlds. ]

There's six of us so far that I know of, including you, and only two of our brother, one of whom is still a child. [ His smile grows fond. ] He goes by Nai, not Knives.

[ It's a lot to take in, he knows! And there's more yet to tell, but a little at a time is probably best. ]

There's a house out by Lost July where they all seem to end up, if you need a place to go.

[It had been. Longer. For him. Long enough to burn in the suns, long enough for meat to rot. Maybe it wouldn't have been so long if he hadn't been brought anywhere at all--

Don't think about that.]

'Nai'? ..That sounds a little like Knives, I guess.

[He's still recontextualizing, everything he'd said and heard from this plant since they encountered each other, and then further back. He HAD been told, Wolfwood and the other Vash weren't leaving him high and dry, it just didn't stick. Not their fault.]

I don't know if ... if my brother is here. If he is he's probably badly hurt. I.. .. w-well if you're really me you know why already. ...And probably you know if he's okay.

[Vash shot first, and shot without bothering to aim good enough to guarantee a nonlethal injury. He can't even be sure if he was shooting to kill or not, but everything that followed had simply been retaliation.

He stops for a moment, right on the edge of where sand becomes good solid packed earth and very deliberately chooses to not think about any of that right now. It's interesting, it's potentially super relevant, and! He is so not ready to process any of it.]

I have somewhere to go right now, in the city. The people who picked me up have given me a space. I don't know if I should stay or not what with all the.. [he wiggles his remaining hand in the air, fingers flexed.] .. Complete lunacy going on attached to my name!

[ A few days, a few weeks... time is strange here. Those portals that keep popping people around the planet's face must have a temporal component, moving people in space and time. It's the only explanation he's come up with so far for why time is passing at a different rate for him than everyone else.

That, or he's just finally gone nuts. Hopefully it's the portals! ]

I'm sorry about the lunacy! [ He'd like to argue that it's not all his fault -- this isn't even his world, apparently! -- but there's still the occasion shout or gunshot coming from Octovern after he riled everyone up, so that argument doesn't exactly hold sand. ] And I'm glad to hear you've got somewhere to go!

[ The people who picked him up. Could he mean Luida? Or is he living with a couple humans? He'll ask in a bit, he decides, fishing another donut out of the box. ]

I haven't had a whole lot of luck with pseudonyms myself, but you could adopt one? Otherwise, I bet if you just avoid wearing red and doing your hair up, you'll probably be fine? [ Probably? ] Nobody's looking for someone your age anyway!

[ He heard that question about Knives, and he's going to answer it. Just, you know... one thing at a time, right? ]

At least, they weren't. [ But having multiple Vashes the Stampede show up in town might change that, huh. Crap. ] But now that there's a lot of us, maybe you should go by a different name? Just to be safe?

[There's a lot about this he's unprepared to think about for long. Potential time travel, alternate realities, multiple alternate selves, possible multiple alternate Knives..es.. and adult ones at that. On one hand that definitely means he didn't die when Vash shot him, which is great, but on the other hand an adult could probably do a lot more damage. Maybe he got better eventually!

Yeah he's.. going to hang onto that thought, because it was at least a potential bright spot.]

I.. don't really want to change my name. [Even temporarily! Rem gave it to him! It's almost all he had left of her, a lot of ideals, and a name.] I'll be alright, I'm too small anyway. I'll probably get yelled at for taking the name of such an infamous outlaw! [This comes with a wide, broad gesture and a briefly fierce expression, but it fades right back to normal quickly.] Which I can blame on my nonexistent dad, I have this worked out.

[He doesn't, at all, he's making it all up as he goes along.]

...If anything, having all of you around is going to make me a lot safer, because they're never going to look for someone that looks like a kid. [Vash, you ARE a kid. Being eighty means different things to plants.] Just.. just, um, don't get shot or something, okay?

[ He might be making it up as he goes along, but it's a good story! Sorry to that non-existent dad and his terrible ideas about baby names, but it's not a bad idea at all, Vash thinks, nodding in approval. The kid's right that nobody is going to be looking for somebody his age, especially not if he avoids looking too much like the wanted posters.

And besides, if things get too hairy, Vash can always draw attention to himself and away from the kid. It's a flawless plan! ]

Don't worry about that! I hate getting shot.

[ And he's not the only one. With all the alternate versions of himself floating around, Vash has been spending a lot more time than usual thinking about the past, about Knives, and all the ways they failed each other over the years. There wasn't much good in dwelling on the past before now, but with Nai's future in the balance, he can't afford to keep putting the past aside.

Shooting Knives in that town all those decades ago had been pure accident, panic and fear and unthinking action. If he'd been able to keep his fear under control then, he can't help but wonder, how would their lives have been different? ]

He lived, by the way. Our brother. I didn't see him again for a very long time, but he recovered fully.

[ The damage to his body recovered, anyway. The damage to his mind, and to their relationship, had been permanent.

Lost in memories, Vash shrugs out of his coat -- this is as good a spot as any to leave it. He can bury it at the base of one of these rocks and come back for it after they eat -- and rolls it up in a tight little ball. ]

Let me hide this, then we can go?

[He's absolutely CERTAIN there were people out there who idolized all kinds of whackos and would absolutely name their kids after some kind of global terrorist!

But it did put things in perspective a bit, now that he thought about it. He knows he'd never do horrible things for entertainment, therefore there had to be a whole lot of exaggeration in those stories if it was some other him.

Unless the Mirrorverse is real and there's Evil Hims out there! He was going to have to keep an eye out for goatees. If reality was as cliched as mirror universes it would likely follow all other cliches too.]

..Oh. Good. .. I.. I know he's, I mean if he did, if he kept ..keeps, doing that to people, then it's really bad but I still don't want him to die, you know?

[How to put it in a way that doesn't sound like childish stumbling around? He doesn't like the way his voice doesn't want to be nice and steady and calm, instead wavering between octaves awkwardly. He clears his throat and kicks briefly at a bit of sand before setting to try to pat off more of his dust with a bit more determination.]

You can put it in the box if you want. It's not like it has anything else in it now.

[Not even a LITTLE worm.]

[ Vash pauses, coat a tight knot in his arms, as young Vash stutters through his feelings. The memory it evokes isn't Knives running away, bullet shot, or any of the times they met up after that. Instead, he can't help but think of the very old version of his brother living out by Chisler's Hill, the Knives who'd stayed alive out of spite, and lived long enough to have a house full of rambunctious kids. The Knives who'd given him nothing but good advice, in his own way, and who had been very clear about his desire for Vash to survive, and return.

His coat creaks as he squeezes it, his eyes burning. With a dry laugh he blinks the prickles in his eyes away, and turns to the nearby boulder, dropping into a crouch and digging at the soft sand at the base of the stone. ]

Thanks, but I think I want to hide it, just in case anyone comes by.

[ His prosthetic hand makes quick work of the sand, shoveling it aside until the hole is nice and deep. ]

You know, that was half my lifetime ago that I got this new arm? [ Half a lifetime of aches and poor coordination, of fearing his brother in an entirely new way. Of hunting him, hating him, and making so many mistakes. But it all worked out, didn't it? ] He's still not... [ Kind is the word he wants, but it doesn't seem right here. ] ...easy. To love.

[ The coat disappears into the ground, and the red vanishes beneath the sand as he fills the hole back in. ]

But we've got a second chance here, all of us. [ Well. Those who were brought here, anyway. Their sisters apparently decided that there were very few Knives who were worth the effort to bring, and he can't deny that that stings. There'd be more fighting if they were here, but shouldn't they have been given that choice? ] To finally maybe understand each other a little better.

[The younger of the pair watches. Not just for the flickers of changing emotion, but what he's doing as well, especially with the left hand. They had similar experiences, which had to mean that too was a prosthetic, which explained some of the metal that didn't quite look right for a glove.

Confirmation follows. A new arm.]

But he's still family, and I did shoot him. If he's less friendly because of it, it's not too hard to guess why.

[That's important, isn't it? Even if he cut off an arm, it wasn't until after Vash shot him, and could have outright killed him with a child's crappy aim and emotional responses.

Maybe the prosthetics would be better if they had a lot of tools worked in. Like a small spade.]

It might be different, if I .. if anyone can find him. We were alone for so long. But now there's more of us, and well, at least some of you are all grown up, and that means things must have worked out eventually!

[No it didn't.]

When I still thought you and the others were .. actually different people, I thought it was wonderful. He might not listen to me, but adults? And our own kind? Would it be mean to just not tell him, if I figured maybe just all boy plants looked the same, the way our sisters do, he might too. It could work!

[And then there's no reason for fighting anymore!]

Edited 2023-07-18 20:31 (UTC)

[ What a neat thought! A whole bunch of plants that looked just like them and their brother, just miles and miles of family, all with the same face. What a different life that would have been! They never would have been alone, ever. ]

I haven't seen any other versions of our brother aside from the very old one, who lives out by Chisler's Hill, and the little one who lives near the ruins of July. But if he's here, he'll show up sooner or later!

[ With both hands, he combs his hair down roughly against his scalp, trying to get the mess to lay down. It really doesn't want to, but he'll keep at it for a minute or so and see if he can beat it into submission. ]

I don't think he'd listen to anyone at the age you are now, me or another plant, or even R-- rrremarkably enough, the independents who came from Earth! [ Whew. Almost messed that one up! ] If he does show up though, maybe he'd listen to himself? The old Knives... I won't say that he can be trusted, but these days he's only attacking with words.

[ That's not ebntirely fair -- his words clearly hadn't been meant as attacks, but just like Vash can't help taking blame, Knives can't help casting it. Maybe that's something they can change, now that they have time. He can hope, at least. ]

I know you've got a place to stay here in the city, but you've got friends out in July, if you need them.

[ If he said hey, Rem's in July! and then she'd vanished by the time he got there? Vash doesn't want to think about how he'd feel. Better to let it be a surprise, for all that he wants desperately for this version of himself to know she's alive and well. It'll happen. They'll get there. ]

[And it made perfect sense! All their sisters look alike, he looks like Knives.. or vice versa, or whichever way it went, therefore maybe all male plants looked that way! He may never find out since apparently every plant out there literally was himself or Knives.]

He might listen. Weird new situations require weird new responses! And maybe you'll have a lot of influence by reason of you're.. like, twice as tall as we are. Bigger is better, right?

[And this entire situation definitely counted as 'weird'. But in fairness he's not half as tall as the older Vash is, he definitely has some growing to go.

It's all noted anyway, he won't forget it, and would have some questions sooner or later for someone. Whatever the older Vash is using to keep his hair up, it's definitely way better than what he's using, he'll have to ask about that too, and he's pretty sure that's a safer question.]

The people in the city say July's gone. I'm not sure there's any friends there anymore.

[July is so far away! And it would be a ... very. Very long walk. As it was things were a struggle, would he even be able to find enough food and water to take with him?

After a moment, he reaches up his lone grimy hand and wiggles fingers. He can tame that hair! Except it's going to get utterly saturated in sand and diatomaceous earth..]

Want me to give it a try?

[ Kniveses, in general, don't listen well to anyone. Vash just shrugs at the thought -- it'd be worth trying if the situation arose, certainly. He'll always try, always be first in line to talk to their brother and see if this time he can hear another perspective. But he's past the point of expecting it to work. The best he can hope for at this point is a kind of companionable distance -- they don't try to hurt each other, but that's in part because they don't get close enough to.

It's lonely. He hates it. But what other options does he have? ]

Hmm?

[ Sorry, he was miles away! But that raised hand makes younger Vash's intentions clear just a moment later. With a wince -- sorry, he knows it's the right choice, but ugh he's going to be grimy for days -- Vash nods, and drops into a sit right where he's at so young Vash can reach his hair. ]

Thanks. And you're right, July's... it's not there anymore, but there's still people living nearby. A couple more of us, for one!

[ There really are a ridiculous number of Vashes on this planet now. How in the world will the world survive that many typhoons? ]

[That's the fate of the adults, locked into their habits and ideas, but maybe it'll be different when younger people are involved. He didn't know how bad things would eventually get, but there was something about this older self's bearing that didn't exactly strike a lot of confidence that everything turned out sunshine and roses.

He's careful in how he works on flattening down the other's hair, starting from the bottom and working his way up. It won't be perfect, but it's better than absolutely nothing and matched his disarray better.

And his dirt levels. At least it's not gore filth, or slime, or muck. He missed access to showers.]

Are we.. the only ones that's happening to? What about everyone else?

[ Dirt does smell much better than gore or filth, it's true! As much as he's not excited about being dirty, it's better than any of the alternatives... and he won't lie that it feels kind of nice having somebody doing his hair, even if it is just to rub dirt into it. It makes him think about Lina.

When he has the chance, he reminds himself, he needs to find out if she survived. ]

It's mostly us, as far as I can tell. There's a human... [ Technically two humans, but he doesn't want to bring her up yet. ] ...a friend of mine, who showed up here as three versions of himself so far, but other than him? [ He half-shrugs, not wanting to jostle whatever young Vash is doing to his head. ] There's a lot of Vashes here now! All sizes, all shapes, all ages. Something for everybody!

[Why them?

Why not the countless people who surely deserved it more? Why not Rem, didn't she deserve it? A life here wasn't exactly the best ever, but it was something worth having. And instead it was ... a lot of himself. And one human, apparently connected to him. Some power out there either had a terrible sense of humor, or didn't really like anyone else, and he's not sure what to think about that.

He gives a stubborn bit of black hair a pat, and it refuses to cooperate. There's no blond at the roots, so either it was dyed recently, or at some point his hair changes color.]

I wonder why. I can think of a lot of people who'd be better to ... copy and put everywhere. No offense.

[He's kind of useless, and he knows it. That hair is just.. going to have to do what it wants, it's not cooperating and he lacks anything to really get it to behave with, like super iron hold hair gel.]

... I think that'll be good enough for a while. It's not like the pictures anymore at least, and you can ... probably pass for a brunette if someone's got bad vision.

[That and the lack of red coat will be enough to prevent shootouts right?!]

[ He doesn't put a hand up to feel what his hair's doing -- it's too dirty for that! -- but shaking his head back and forth lets him feel that at least it's laying down more, in places. So long as he's not spikey, it should serve as a good enough disguise! ]

Thanks! ...And for the record, I agree. [ Unfolding himself and getting back on his feet, Vash takes a second to slap the dust off his legs and butt. Just because his hair is encrusted doesn't mean the rest of him has to be, and besides, it's a pain and a half to get the dirt out of the seams of his leathers. ] If I was going to try and stop a war and help a lot of very scared people, the last thing I'd do is bring a bunch of us here!

[ This plant needs more engineers, more doctors, more kind people, and instead it's been bombarded with humanoid typhoons. The next few years are going to be awfully exciting! ]

But our sisters picked who they picked. Not much we can do about it, at this point.

[Direct implication: they start wars and scare people.

He'll have to find out why. ..After food. It's been a while, and now he was without a worm to last him the better part of a week.]

M..maybe there'll be someone who decided to become a doctor instead of a Bad Lad?

[Not him though, he'd only JUST stopped wandering around with his brother, and boy that went awry fast. But he's still pretty young based on his size compared to Vash's, so maybe.. maybe he should be looking into that.

And doctors had enough income to not worry about where they're going to sleep, or where food might come from next, alongside helping people. He's going to have to find out a lot more about where their trajectory normally heads, so he can figure out where he can shift things. If there's nothing he can do about BEING here, maybe ... maybe he can do something to make it worth having him there at all.]

Not that being a Bad Lad is awful or anything.. ... well it kind of is, you should probably quit, but in comparison to being a geologist or something..

[there's better things to be doing! Wait, no he needs to stop potentially insulting the person who'd maybe be getting him something to eat! That's a great way to getting nothing at all!]

But I'm sure it's taught you all kinds of useful things, so it's not all bad!! I bet you know a whole lot about surviving out in the wilds between cities! You should write a book about it.

[Yeah, that sounds good!]

[ They do, in fact, start wars and scare people. Never on purpose! But intent only matters so much.

Vash's entire posture crumples at the Bad Lad comments. He thought young Vash was over that idea! ]

Oh come on, how many times do I have to say it? I'm not a Bad Lad! [ Don't make him explain the hair! He doesn't want to have to explain the hair! ] I'm Vash the Stampede, humanoid typhoon, and I've never once worked for BD!. [ Holding his arms out, he does a little spin, expression still pouty. ] Do you see any neon?

That sounds exactly like something someone in a gang would say.

[And if even half the things people said about the Humanoid Typhoon were true, then being in a gang, or outright leading one, would be small potatos in comparison.] And since you're already hiding a jacket, it's pretty easy to say you hid the glowy bits somewhere else too. But don't worry, I won't tell anyone.

[After all, this person felt taking off his coat and flattening his hair was a disguise, so maybe he felt taking off a neon harness and leaving ON the red coat was a disguise too.

More importantly, he was going to have to figure out how to turn his future self away from a life of hedonistic crime. And that.. he wasn't sure how to even begin. He tugs at the hem of his shirt briefly, frowning, then brightens up.]

Aside from that, you mentioned sandwiches..?

[ He's not going to win this one, is he? ]

Are you sure you want to be seen in public with a known gang member?

[ Without his coat and its built in cooling system he's going to get hot, and fast. All this leather is great for support, for helping prevent minor injuries, and for pressure when he gets worse ones, but in the sun it's going to be like wearing his very own portable oven. The sooner they can get into the city and find someplace that'll take his money -- or barring that, his labor -- the better. He probably should have had some more water before hiding his coat, but it's too late now! ]

Your reputation is so clean and sparkling, I'd hate to steal that from you.

Not going to be a lot worse than what I've already been seen with.

[There was a lot of make-do happening, when small and alone. Finding the 'right' people to be seen with was considerably more difficult than simply doing what it took to stay alive and reasonably intact. A Bad Lad was in the great scheme of things a FAR better associate than the notorious Vash the Stampede! A more mundane threat, than the fury of God or whatever the newest line was.

He eyes his older self again. Bad Lads were definitely an improvement over the rumors.]

As long as I don't start dressing up and all that, should be just fine.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

In and around Octovern -- later

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a somewhat edit.

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