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'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.

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In and around Octovern -- later

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