nicholas d. wolfwood (
tinico) wrote in
nomans_land2023-07-13 10:55 am
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
a new arrival
i. december
- Nicholas was out for errands, a shopping bag slung over his shoulder with things that he'd been sent to buy, and he was almost back to the orphanage, smile already on his face to be returning to the shade. Then there was an odd shake of the ground, making him stumble, and when he looked up, everything was very different. Where buildings had been standing, now there was much damage, his familiarity the only reason he could recognize them anymore. Where people had been wandering around, laughing or yelling or just going about their business, there was... nobody. Only silence. And there was a strange smell in the air, like something wet had been spilled a while ago.
Nicholas's smile faded, eyes going very wide, and he ran towards his home, only to find the worst of the damage to be around it. He was calling out names - Miss Malanie's, everyone's - but there was only silence. Soon, he could see that there were signs that someone had been holed up in the basement, and then upstairs also but those were more recent.
And nobody was answering. Nobody.
- Everyone had left. So he had to go somewhere else. He had no idea where, but. He'd managed to find a wide brimmed hat, and had added to his shopping bag whatever supplies he had. And he was walking to the next town he had seen on the maps. Which he'd also taken. There would be someone somewhere, right?
- Luckily for him, before walking in the desert could become too much for him, there had been another earthquake - and then he was among people again. After many, many hours mostly alone, other than some random encounters, he kind of needed a moment to lean in the shade and close his eyes in relief. He had not been to this city, but at least it was alive. He would take that.
Then he squared his shoulders, and went exploring. Even if he knew nobody, he should be able to find people who needed help that he could earn a living with, right?
- ooc: have another idea? he'll pop up there! brackets and prose all good, will match.
no subject
Then he let out a long breath.
"You don't hafta smile for me when y'feel like cryin'. I'm not small enough that I'll start cryin' when you do." A pause, and then he carefully added, "I won't ask if you don't wanna talk about it."
He would be curious. He already was. But there were things that people wanted, or needed, to not say.
He also would have assumed that people close to him were hurt in the fighting he was talking about, but he seemed grow calmer rather than more upset talking about it, so Nicholas had no idea how to help.
After chewing a little bit on his lower lip, and a little bit on the sandwich, he manages, mouth a little full. "Thanksh. 't makes shen-- 'mean, thank you, it makes sense. It was... kind of hard to make sense of anythin'." He knew things were being left out, but Vash was not making an effort to hide that, and Nicholas could appreciate that. He didn't need to know everything, and knowing something was a start.
"A little bit of fightin's okay, but the kind of big fightin' that seemed to've happened in December, that can't be good. So not finding those two to make'em fight's probably better."
It seemed reasonable to him, to avoid more destruction.
no subject
Apparently Wolfwood's ability to read him like an open book had been a lifelong thing, then? The mask he had tried to keep up cracked just a bit harder at that, and he let it fall away willingly, just a bit. He wasn't going to lie to him, when he could already tell he wasn't alright, but he was still a bit guarded as he gave him a watery little smile.
"I know. I just...don't like to worry people. It's easier if I smile, you know? That's just how I manage. But thank you." For not asking, but that felt a little too much like confirming there was something in particular that was upsetting him, so he didn't say it.
The smile on his face tried to settle for a bit, when he nodded, and thinking about how things must have seemed for him in a general sense, detached from the specifics of who he was and what had happened, let him relax just a little bit.
"I can't imagine any of this was easy to make sense of, no. People had a hard enough knowing what to do when it was happening. But...things should be safe, now. Or, well, as safe as they usually are." Maybe a little safer, even, if people actually took what the Sisters had tried to achieve to heart. He wasn't sure how well that had been going back in the reality he was from, but at the very least, some seemed like they had been trying.
And that was a good thing, right? These things took time. In the early days, things had been even worse, the fighting even more intense between the survivors. But eventually, they'd settled. Not perfectly, no, but life had been possible, people had even been happy, in their own way. So he knew that if change were going to happen, it would just be a matter of time. And sometimes hope was hard to come by, but he'd always been able to find at least a little, when it came to people.
But then the mention of the fight in December made the smile fall, and he glanced away, his brow furrowing as he stared out into the crowd. Of course he would have seen the damage. Had he seen the grave? He hoped not. He hoped he never had to learn it was there, or who was in it. Let him grow up and live his life never knowing another man with his name was buried outside his home.
"The fight in December was...very bad, yes. The fighting here was worse, but...I think December was scarier, at least to the people who saw it. It's good you weren't there when it happened."