nomans_land | a new arrival

Finding his way back from the little cabin Knives had holed up in, after he'd been so unceremoniously pulled there from across reality, had taken more time than he'd liked. He'd barely been able to make it back before the room rental he'd paid for for a few days had been up and he'd lost all of his belongings, and honestly, that had been scarier than the fact that he'd been thrown across the world to who knew where. He didn't own much, never had. But the things he did own were his, and after so long, and living with so little, he had become rather attached to them.

Still, it meant that he hadn't had time to really look around the city properly, to try and get in to where the Plants were being held and try and talk with them, and he was out of money for the room.

It wasn't an uncommon occurrence; truth be told, he probably spent more nights sleeping under the stars than actually in hotel beds, anyway, which didn't exactly help his back aches. But when you lived your entire life on the road, traveling from town to town without any real job to speak of, money was tight, and modern conveniences were even tighter.

So he'd been wandering around town, his coat stuffed in his duffel bag and his hair styled down, looking for odd jobs that he could do that would get him some money for food. It was easier to get lost in a large crowd, and Octovern was if nothing else, for the past year, one giant sea of people. Still, he didn't want to take any chances.

For the past few hours, he'd been helping to wait a tiny cafe, and by midday, the morning rush had died down and the owner was talking about closing up for the evening. He was listening quietly as she counted out the tips when he saw, through the front windows, a small form taking shelter under the awning. They had to have been very young, dark haired and clothes that looked like they'd seen no small amount of wear and tear, and he couldn't help but watch with growing concern.

Where were their parents? Were they one of the refugees? What were they doing wandering the crowded streets like that?

He was so worried that when the owner called back out to him again, he didn't immediately respond, and gave a start when he felt her tugging at his arm.

"What? Oh, Sorry! You said something?"

"I said here's your wages, Val. Are you ok?" He gave an embarrassed sort of laugh and scratched the back of his head, turning to glance at the child by the window again before looking back at the cafe's owner.

"Oh, yeah, sorry! I just...have you seen that kid around here before?"

There was a soft hum as she glanced over, and then shook her head.

"Not that I can remember. Why?" He shrugged, his gaze lingering on the tiny form. "Well, maybe he's one of the refugees. It's hard to keep track of everyone, these days. Here you go, sweetie, and go ahead and take one of the leftover sandwiches out of the cooler display when you head out. Will we see you again tomorrow?"

He turned, blinked at her a little owlishly before smiling and taking the small handful of bills she held out to him, and shrugged again.

"Sure, if you could still use the help. I think I'm gonna be here for a while."

"Honey, we're always in need of a helpin' hand. Just come on back in the mornin' around 7, and we'll get started."

He waved at her as he walked towards the front of the store, chirping out a friendly "Sure thing, see you tomorrow!" before he paused to glance down at the sandwiches that hadn't sold for the day, selecting a simple ham and cheese with lettuce and tomatoes and tiny nuts and seeds in the bread. And then he turned back to the door, happy to see that the kid was still leaning under the shade of the awning, and walked outside the door to join him.

"Hey. You hungry? I had a lunch earlier, so I'm not really hungry, and it seems a shame to let it go to waste." He slid down to sit on the sidewalk against the front of the cafe and, with the sandwich held out in his hand, turned to look up at the kid, now that he was close enough to see him properly. Strangely, something in the back of his mind twitched, some tiny bell of familiarity ringing out. Had he met him before? Had he seen him wandering through town? Or had he been in one of the refugee ships he'd seen sailing in back home? It was an unusual sensation, and he was usually pretty good at remembering everyone's faces.

Nicholas startled at being addressed, shoulders going up defensively, but then he glares.

"Have you spiked it or somethin'?"

He'd heard enough about strangers offering kids food.

He looked a little shocked at the question, blinking owlishly with his big, sad eyes, and oh, his accent was familiar. Someone from the December area, and...puzzle pieces seemed to shift in his head in an uncomfortable way; he had about the right eye and hair and skin color, the face shape was pretty close. He shunted the thought off before it could get planted too firmly in his mind, though. He couldn't think about that, not right now.

"No, it was made this morning. If it makes you feel better, I'll take a bite first. You can even choose the piece."

Such a sad assumption for someone his age to already be accustomed to worrying about. What had his life been like, where that seemed like the thing he needed to expect from a simple sandwich?

Nicholas glared, because those big blue sad eyes were simply unfair and he had no idea why they were so sad and it wasn't his business anyway. Except there was far too much sadness around and he huffed.

"... might help." He rubbed the back of his head, looking away. Thanks. There's a lot of refugees and I'm still looking for a job." And looking for people.

Melanie and the kids are in Octovern, the sad bastard had told him. Wolfwood wasn't entirely sure he could trust a word that came out of the man's mouth, Vash or no -- he's never met somebody with as much of a self-sacrificing death wish as that guy. But even if it turns out Needles was wrong and Melanie and them aren't here, a populated town is still a populated town. There'll be work, if he decides he wants it, food that isn't entirely worm-based, maybe even a chance to connect with the Eye again, to get an idea how many of them are left and get himself invited to their hideout. It'll be much easier to kill them all in their hideout.

But Melanie and the kids from the orphanage are his first priority, which means Wolfwood is skulking around the edges of the city, looking for any kids who seem lost. It's not the best way to go about his search -- in fact, he's starting to feel a bit like a creep -- but it's not like he can just march into downtown and start calling her name. He's keeping a low profile here! Or at least he's trying to.

So when he spots the dark-haired kid taking a nap in the shade, he figures it's worth the ask. The closer he gets, however, the more familiar the kid seems, until Wolfwood lurches to a halt, standing over his younger self.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!"

His nap is light enough that the words startle him awake, and he does his best to stay still and only open his eyes a little to see what the fuss is about.

His best, unfortunately, at this age, isn't very good. So he's squinting at the man in the shades who exclaimed. Who is also staring at him, which makes his skin crawl a little but, for some reason, he's not scared, not right now.

He sits up and glares. "What's your problem."

He's hot, he's unhappy because he has been walking for a while and he hasn't found his family yet. And the fear that they were killed in whatever happened at that time (somebody put a grave with a heavy slab and a big cross and it could have been one for a number of people) is far too real for him to be. Nice.

There's no question -- it's definitely him. Young him, before the Eye got their hands on him. Wolfwood doesn't know whether to start swearing or fall to his knees in thanks

"Kid, we don't have the kind of time it'd take to explain what my problem is." His words are snide, but he can't hide the relief in his voice... or on his face, for that matter. For all his habitual surliness, Wolfwood really does have one lousy poker face. "Do you know where you are?"

Nicholas just stares. This guy is confusing, but he doesn't seem to be trying to attack him, so the glare gets downgraded to a suspicious stare.

"Octovern. They say it's the only place where there's still a lot of people. Sure there aren't any in December." He grits his teeth and looks away. "Dunno about any other places."

Yeah, that makes sense. Of course he'd have checked December already. Seems like every version of him ends up there sooner or later, huh?

"They're right about that." If he hunkers down here in a squat, is he gonna get kicked? Or ditched? Play nice, kiddo, okay? Creepy big brother here doesn't mean any harm. "Pretty much the whole world's emptied out, and everyone's come here. That's why I'm here, anyway."

Has the kid guessed who he is yet, or does he need to be more obvious? Damn, he can talk a kid out of tears from a toma bite or bribe them into doing chores, but he doesn't have the faintest clue how to explain this whole mess. "I heard that Miss Melanie and the rest of the brats ended up out this way. Don't suppose you've seen 'em?"

Nope, though he might get kicked if he comes much closer, within an easy arm's reach. And he didn't choose to go to December, he was already there and then it was different.

However, as he hasn't yet gotten around to finding out about time shenanigans, he doesn't even begin to suspect who the guy is. So when he drops the name, Nicholas stiffens, fist clenching at his sides. But, of course, bad poker face. There is a glimmer of hope that was missing before.

"If I'd seen them, I wouldn't be here on my own." He chews on his lip for a moment. "Whoever told you would know? That they didn't-- it looked real bad, back there."

Damn. Oh well, it was worth a shot.

Wolfwood nods sympathetically in agreement. "Yeah, there was a hell of a fight there, huh? From what I saw, it's a wonder anyone got out." But they did, kid, don't worry about that! "The dumbass who told me they were here, he's a dumbass for sure, but sometimes he knows what he's talking about."

The place was shot to shit, but there weren't any bodies -- well, other than the buried one. Everyone got out okay. "I think they're all here, I just don't know where."

It's not exactly the kind of thing you think happens for real? So why would he think that?

Nicholas slumps a little, worrying at a frayed thread on the hem of his pants.

"That's... good. Why're you lookin' for them, anyway?"

It's not like he could know there was only one body. It's No Man's Land. Sometimes people get buried in the same hole. If they even get buried at all. This is the first confirmation he is getting that they get out, and, after days, the relief is making him a little dizzy. It's fine. They're fine. If they're fine, he can definitely find them.

Also, it's not like he's been to many cities, for all he's had time making do for himself, back before he was brought to Miss Melanie, but people here seem awfully... nice? Like they had some reason he didn't get to be friendly and helpful to each other. Even the ones who had to turn him down from getting some work actually apologized. It's weird. But he can't quite put into words what exactly feels too much.

So he has to ask.

He wasn't intending to lie. He was planning to tell the kid who he was right off -- there's enough falsehoods getting spun by all the Vashes already -- but the kid still doesn't seem to recognize him at all. There's so many questions he'll have to answer if he confesses his identity... and for the kid's sake, most of those answers will have to be lies.

Better to start with a big lie up front, and skip all the rest of the mess.

"Melanie's a friend." It's not a lie, not really. It's just not the whole truth. "I used to do some work for her, out at the orphanage. When everything went to shit I went looking for her, to see if she needed any help, but the place was empty." The best lies are lies of omission, after all. "I recognized you from your picture, the on the wall in her office?" She had pictures of every child that had ever come through, no matter how short or long their stay. As a kid, he'd thought it sweet, if a little stupid and sentimental. As an adult, he can't help but wonder how many of those kids ended up with the Eye. How many of them he killed, without ever knowing it.

"The name's Roberto."

"Okay." That makes sense, at least. He's not quite certain, because of, well, the initial reaction, and also the way the guy stares at him, like Nicholas is missing something important, but those things would make sense.

"'m Nicholas. And if they are here, I'll need ta find 'em." Most of the anger has faded down, at least, and his eyes are bright and determined. He sifts to kick in the direction of the bag. "Some of the groceries I was sent out for're still with me, they can probably use 'em."

Yeah, that's why. Really.

He'll come around this spot every once in a while, just to make sure things are as they should be. Lately Melanie had been trying to decide what to do, to return, or to find elsewhere in the more populated areas where reconstruction was on the rise.

So Livio had volunteered to come check it out, self-proclaimed repentance, isolation, whathaveyou. It still looked the same--

--At least until the world had once again been upended into chaos, and now with the added flavor of more confusing things than plants talking.

And a little voice calling. A real one, not just the echoes of the children who had come through here.

"....Hello?" He calls back, cautious.

There is a voice. There is someone who is alive out here, and for a moment Nicholas just pauses and tries to catch his breath. It doesn't sound like any of the adults he knows, but it's someone.

It's also an adult and Nicholas is keenly aware that a can of beans can only do so much as self-defense, so he kind of crouches behind a broken wall. If it's a looter, he might well decide a kid is expendable. He might as well make ready to run.

"... who's there?"

Nicholas. It really is him. Wolfwood doesn't sigh and rub a hand over his face, but he's sure thinking about it.

"Okay, Nicholas, then how about you grab those groceries. Let's go see if we can find your folks."

This world's Wolfwood is dead and buried, and here he is, bringing an unsoiled and whole kid version of himself back to Melanie. If they're stuck here, like it seems they are, then this kid might be the first ever Wolfwood to grow up naturally. The first ever Wolfwood who doesn't have to sell his soul to become a killer.

Anyone tries to mess with this kid between here and the ship, Wolfwood decides, and they're gonna be picking their teeth out of the pavement.

"They've got to be here somewhere!"

He might not have to, if certain people make sure the eye of Michael stops using the orphanage as fresh blood source.

Nicholas stares at Roberto for a moment, his eyes a little brighter with unexpectedly renewed hope, before he nods and scrambles to his feet, shouldering the bag in a way that is very familiar.

"Yeah..." Beat. "And... thanks."

Miss Melanie does teaches them manners, even if Nicholas has decided only adults who are at least acquaintances deserve the benefit of those lessons.

Oh, he's going to track down and murder every remaining trace of the Eye in this world, don't you ever worry about that, kiddo. They won't hurt anyone ever again.

That look of hopefulness, however small and brief, does something funny to Wolfwood's heart. Was he ever really this small? And this friendly?

C'mon, kid, let's walk.

"So how'd you get here from December? That's a long ways." And there aren't any sand steamers or buses or anything. He didn't walk all that way, did he?

Oh, no, 'Roberto,' you were even smoler and arguably friendlier.

And anyway, you have earned the friendliness, for bringing news about his family. So yes, he's coming with, looking around with renewed sharpness, his gaze running here and there over the ground, to pick up any ankle-biters who might not have parents with them.

"I walked parta the way. I wasn't comin' here, just to check the next town over, and then the one after that. And at some point I was actually here, and had'ta ask about to find out where I am and why's it so crowded.

"It's uh-- it's me-- I mean..."

That doesn't help, the kids aren't all that familiar with him. Sure, some of them don't scuttle and hide when they see him, but the others are still reasonably wary. And not so much as to be that familiar with him. Sculking in the corner.

"Is Miss Melanie here with you? She ain't supposed to be, but things are weird."

Nicholas scowls, because that sounded like he's supposed to maybe know the man, but he has to look to figure out if that's the case. But then the question comes and he kind of curls in on himself a bit more, fists clenching.

"Nobody's here. I was just out to run an errand and then suddenly the whole city was empty!"

Beat.

"... you know Miss Melanie?"

Ah. So this kid had just left right at the wrong time.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I was kinda on an errand too, when this started."

Slowly, slowly, he's walking around the rubble, trying to pinpoint the voice and that location, but cautiously.

"I do, yeah. I spent some time here."

The responses are confusing. It still could be a looter, just someone who does know the orphanage, and the slow circling is setting his nerves on edge.

"Yeah? What's your name?"

Not like he's likely to know it, he only knows the ones who have been there while he's been there, but still.

He thinks he's pinpointed where the kid is, but again, Livio isn't going in for the kill-- the-- meeting. The boy is suspicious, and Livio doesn't blame him.

"My name's Livio. What's yours?"

a new arrival

III: Because Nick is a bit preoccupied rn and Ghostwoo would be very careful to avoid being noticed

awww but fair.

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Octovern

Re: Octovern

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sighs..........gimmie i

oh pls, he was panicking here

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poor baby boy

he's terrified which means he's angery

i dont blame him, i would be too!

... i mean, you have a point there

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