#well that's newsworthy;; ( canon blog drabble )

[orangetintedglasses]

The cold storage unit was as empty as it ever was-- a fact that managed to ease some of the strain on Vash’s nerves as he squeezed his way through the crack in the door before the locks had even fully disengaged. What was a cracked rib or several to someone on a mission? Waiting would just eat seconds he didn’t have; he was already sliding gloved fingers over the keys of the console in long, single stroke patterns he’d memorized during his first few months here by the time the hydraulics stopped hissing. Maybe it hurt, but he didn't have time for that, either.

...

Wolfwood would... probably give him crap for thinking like that later, if the damage showed. But at this point he'd just take that thought as something to look forward to, after all of this was said and done.

Security hadn’t been tampered with, apparently, at least not on the level of access he could crack. Which just so happened to be a place where a flurry of quick keystrokes got him where he needed to be in order to find the information he was looking for: as they'd expected, Brad was here.

... just... not in his usual pod, and with no date marked for when he'd been put in, or when the pod should start its automatic defrost. Someone had basically abandoned him when they'd started all of this... but didn't put any measures in place to keep him there. No one here to stop him, no changed passcodes, the DNA scans hadn't been disabled...

Vash swallowed past the lump in his throat as he tried to lock in and bully his way past the fail safes for the manual defrost settings, but the gears were already turning in his head. All of this seemed... half-assed, in a way? Done by someone who had little to no time or experience, maybe… or maybe that wasn't the right read... regardless, though, something just didn’t click.

He shouldn't have been able to find someone purposefully hidden in under five minutes.

"You always seem to be expecting more."

Something like panic slithered up his spine; the familiar, rumbling chide from someone that shouldn’t have been there running the tips of sharp talons along each and every vertebrae, scraping terribly against the bone. Vash might’ve managed to tip his chin up a fraction and widen his eyes before that feeling forced him to whirl around and face the entity behind him-- just to be met once with the aloof mask of Doctor Somerset, standing a few feet away. Cobalt eyes watched him with clipped, quick movements that read like analytical curiosity as Vash shifted stance; stiffened his back, squared his shoulders, slipped on his own stony mask of neutrality. Wary, maybe icy as he locked their gazes, but not hostile. 

“Shouldn’t you be with the others?” was the first question that came to mind, and gave way for several others. Did you run from the fight? Did you follow me? Is Wolfwood hurt?

“I have no interest in fights, much less unfair ones.” the man replied easily, though something about the way his accent made the words sound so dismissive made Vash bristle. Like a verbal shrug, “your friend and the guards will sort themselves out, I’m sure.”

“You’re sure?” he echoed. “Like you’re not the one responsible for all of this?”

“And what, pray tell, is ‘all of this’?”

A muscle in his face twitched, changing his own attempt to match the indifferent mask into something more annoyed-- the heart on his sleeve wrenching, aching as Vash chose his next words carefully. 

“You have some sort of… hold over the people here.” he forced the words out as calmly as he could, but the effort was like pushing marbles through a straw. That false calm cracked pretty quick. “But it’s like an act, it's... hollow… like all you had to shape it was someone else’s memory of what this place is…!”

“Perceptive. Was it not to your liking?”

"Undo it." a low, warning tone, but not one that shook the other man.

“I’m afraid I can’t just yet.”

"Just yet?"

"Allow me to make things crystal clear: I have no intentions of harming anyone. The innocent bystanders, the children, your guardians…” long, bony fingers gesture behind him, to the console. Vash didn’t look, “have I tried to stop you from unfreezing that brute, even retroactively? Did I order an all-out assault on your friend when he pulled a gun on us? Why would I be so passive if harm was the drive behind this?”

“So let them go!“ the blond protested, taking a step forward. “Why treat them like puppets if you’re just doing it passively?! These people mean no harm to anyone, they might’ve even helped you…!”

A thoughtful pause and a slight tilt of the doctor’s head made Vash’s stomach twist.

“Unfortunately, I doubt that could be said of the men who asked me to help subdue your friend.”

Two sets of eyes flicked to the door, and Vash’s heart thrashed inside his chest. He shouldn’t have left-- he shouldn’t have left him, he knew, he’d seen the way they’d looked at him--!! 

He had to go back…!

But even just turning his head proved to be an unfortunate decision, as the presence beside him flickered-- genuinely flickered, here then gone, then close, too close, chest to chest--and closed the distance between them. A strategic few feet to encourage a feeling of safety and play to his good faith; a trap. This whole thing had been trap after trap after trap, and here he was, still dulling his perception and senses for what, someone who had the entirety of the ship wrapped around his finger? They’d trusted him, but had that been an act, too? Just a long con of passive manipulation that all had culminated in… what?? What was all of this for?!

The universe’s peculiar sense of comedic timing seemed to think he deserved an answer, then, as fingers brushed the back of his neck, sliding something rather snugly against the circumference of his skull, resting just behind his ears--

-- ?!!

-- and instantly filled his head with static. Not a harsh static, but a scrambled sort of softness that stole all focus; robbed his limbs of stability and filled them with nothing but warmth and air as he desperately tried to lift his arms and pry off whatever the hell the good doctor had just slipped around his head. That desire came, and went. Came, and went. Slipped through his fingers every time he tried to reach for it.

“I know why you’re hearing things. That’s why you came here, isn’t it? To ask about that song you’ve been hearing?” the man’s voice dropped to a murmur, soothing and soft over the fraying edges of the world around him in a way that could oh-so-easily pull any and all desire to fight from him like it had never been there in the first place, “it isn’t because of some malfunction or pitiful alien generator that’s managed to elude you. But no one else on this ship has the qualifications to help you, so I needed to secure us a moment alone.”

Vash staggered back, away, limbs still somehow fighting the losing battle. Wolfwood. He had to get back to Wolfwood, he couldn’t just…! 

“What you’re hearing is the song of another universe-- bleeding in through the cracks.”

But despite his resolve, the world pulsed in time his slowing heartbeat, thudding sluggishly in his ears, and the blond sank slowly to his knees. It was like… sinking into a warm bath, his muscles all relaxing, giving in, even as he struggled to try and move towards the door. But the man beside him (in front of him? Behind? He couldn’t tell, his senses felt muted--) knelt down with him, and caught his chin in a gentle hold. Two fingers, barely a hold at all, really--

“It seeks resonance, Vash. Another voice to join the chorus and connect… but the guilt you harbor has given way to insecurity and fear, so you won't let yourself try.” he said, tilting the Plant’s head up for him, bringing their gazes together again. His other hand moved over his hair, through some of the blond strands, in what almost seemed to be a sincerely soft gesture…

“I’m going to help you sing for them. And to do that, I need to take that fear from you for just a little while…”

… trailing all the way down to the other side of his skull, and

brushed something, somewhere... but he couldn't tell exactly where. He

couldn't focus enough. But that

was fine. He didn't really

want to

anymore...

[orangetintedglasses]

Different from his counterparts. Different from other Plants. Different enough that Knives had looked horrified when he saw what it was like when he was the one 'in control' of that shared space, balking at how disconnected-- empty --Vash seemed to be.

A swirl of sudden nausea forced him to sit down so he could try to focus, but parts of that conversation still swarmed him like a mass of angry bees. Buzzing and loud and doing nothing but make him feel light-headed, tipping his forehead into his palm, hoping to quell the feeling.

This is why it was so hard to break you the first time. It's just you here. You formed a sense of self on your own. You're just... Vash.

Sweat beaded at his temples as he fought off another wave of nausea, groaning into the inside of his wrist. None of those revelations had necessarily been pointed solely at him-- he was just a Vash that fit into the necessary slot that Knives needed to have that epiphany. To put those pieces together. All Vashes were broken by their Nai in one way or another; that was just part of what had to happen. He wasn't special in that way. It wasn't something he should've taken personally, but familiar barbs like that felt just like any other barbs regardless of who they were meant for.

So, how was he so horrifyingly different? Was it something Nai had done that had left him that way, or was he always just... empty? Always lacking?

Always broken?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤI can fix you again, but you need to untie me--

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤI don't want to be fixed, I'm not broken...!

Voices suddenly filled his ears, and roiling insides clenched hard as his eyes snapped open-- as Vash quickly rose to his feet with enough force to knock the chair back and over, hitting the floor with a sharp, heavy sound. Two voices. Two familiar voices. His own, and--

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤIs that what the monsters would have you believe?!

Vash's vision hazed and swam, and another sound was wrung from his throat. Sweat drooled down his forehead, dripped from the tip of his nose. Leather-clad hands flew up and clapped against the sides of his head, over his ears, digging the heels of his palms tight to his cheekbones in an attempt to block out the sound. Futile as it was.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤYou're sick, Vash, you were born sick! Don't let their ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤlies poison you now, after all of our hard work!

Sights and sounds come back in a flood, some details blurrier than others. The din of city street lights. The feel of soft feathers, of power being poured straight into his bones. The sound of blades slicing through the air in an upward curve, making those feathers fall, a fine spray of blood coating his face.

It felt like his insides were trying to turn themselves inside out just like before, when he'd stepped through the gate and into the higher plane. It was just as dizzy and crushing and sent him tumbling to the ground, barely able to catch himself, limbs light and weak-feeling as his body trembled and shook; as the contents of his stomach rose to fill his throat.

JuLai. That was JuLai. His JuLai.

Vash was going to be sick.

[orangetintedglasses]

Finale: Kotov Syndrome

The silence that hung between them for a few long, terrible moments was tense and heavy; Vash watched as his brother's eyes filled with fear for a split second, then quickly boiled over into betrayal and rage.

"You'd dare point that coward's tool at me? After I let you keep it?" Nai nearly spat the words out, his voice penetrating the silence the same way a rock crashed through a window, making Vash's shoulders twitch. His stance remained firm despite it, eyes locked onto the other Plant's, his firearm steady and unwavering in it's position. No desire to shoot him, just... keep him there and buy everyone enough time to get out of the city.

And buy himself some time to think of an actual plan...

"... it truly hurts to see you like this, Vash." Nai said, that softness returning to his tone, almost a coo. It made his chest ache. "Those monsters have been exacerbating your sickness. They're using you--"

"QUIET!" he snarled, the sound tearing out of him faster than he could process. Vash grit his teeth and felt himself force the barrel of the gun against Nai's forehead before quickly withdrawing it, taking a step back and settling on just aiming the firearm at him, now. He'd never been this angry before.

"YOU'RE the one who's using me, Nai! This whole time, I've--" God, he didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to think about any of it-- "--I've been hurting people! I've hurt EVERYONE I care about because of you...!"

"Anyone you've 'hurt' was hurt because they interfered with your recovery, Vash." Nai replied, looking unimpressed. "It was their own fault for--"

"It was YOUR FAULT!" another crackle of energy between his teeth, this time igniting the patterns on his skin. Wisps of energy lifted from the delicate lines on the right side of his face-- wisps that took on a feathered shape that made Nai's eyes widen, face contorting with disgust.

"Look at what they've done to you..."

"STOP!" Vash's hands were trembling, now, emotions and borrowed power both rumbling in his chest like the beginnings of a storm. He squeezed his eyes shut-- he had to end this! Whatever needed to happen next, he had to do it-- and if that involved killing his brother, h-he-- no. No, he couldn't kill him, even... even after all of this. He couldn't do it, there had to be another way--

A hand suddenly touching his cheek yanked Vash out of his thoughts, eyes popping open to see Nai in close proximity. One hand on his face, the other on his shoulder, in... some cruel mockery of comfort? Or was it real? Nai's expression felt like a mask of calm and understanding more than anything, but despite that, Vash stilled under the touch-- a spark of hope fluttering in his chest, brought tears to his eyes...

"Nai..."

Thmp.

... his breath caught in his throat, and warmth blossomed at the small of his back.

Thmp. Thmp!THMP!THMP!

White-hot pain exploded in rapid-fire bursts, one by one up the trail of his spine, like fireworks.

"My poor baby brother... even after all of this, you still need me to do everything for you..." Nai cooed, pulling Vash closer to him as something else flooded his body. That familiar feeling, cold and all encompassing... spreading out from where bladed vines had buried themselves in his back. He shouldn't have let his guard down.

He shouldn't have let his guard down.

Vash would try and struggle against the connection, shrimping back and away as far as he could-- the renewed energy from Vet would be more than enough to help him fight him off --but one last vine pierced all the way through his shoulder, wrapping around his collarbone in the most literal way imaginable as Nai tightened his hold around him, blood spattered on his face.

"Don't worry, Vash. We'll fix this."

The cold spread up, up, up... blurring his mind and his senses, making him weak at the knees and lean heavily into his twin.

"I'll just have to help speed things along..."

The blades dug in further, twisted in deeper, and Vash felt himself scream.

[orangetintedglasses]

"Is this really it?"

The device around his wrist fit snugly and securely without biting into his skin or cutting off blood flow to his hand; only about the size of a decently chunky wristwatch even with the extra bits of material that climbed up his wrist and just barely touched his forearm. It wasn't exactly the most subtle, but it was something he could easily cover with the sleeve of his coat, and Vash fiddled with it while he waited for an answer, feeling cowed by the silence from the only other person in the room whose back was turned to him.

"Yes. This is the optimal size and shape for traversing dimensional tears-- something compact and easy to conceal won't provoke as many questions... your normal attire will likely do that just fine." said the Sinner flatly, without tearing his eyes away from the keyboard and screens. Vash always found that impressive and a little creepy-- though the flurry of fingers over keys did briefly pause. "Were you expecting something flashier?"

"No, just..." he trailed off, looking at his reflection in the face of the device. Easy enough controls scheme, haptic buttons on the scren to save space, a radar system attuned to the energy signature tears give off... "it's strange that everything fits into something this small, you know? This can really send me back and forth?"

"Not instantaneously, no. There's the initial setup time, recalibration if you need it... and of course, once you initiate a jump in either direction, it'll need a good amount of time to recharge." the man turned to face him, now, his sharp features and cobalt-colored eyes hauntingly lit by the light of the screens beside him. He continued.

"It's equipped with an adaptable energy source that can draw in and convert the naturally occurring energy in any location you wind up in." he gestured to the device. "Full recharge for a safe jump will take about two days, give or take the potency of that world's energy. In a pinch, though... you are also completely capable of powering it, should the need arise."

That made Vash's stomach twist, head snapping up in alarm, "me? You... you mean, my--"

He cut him off, "though I'd recommend this only in emergencies. I believe your guardians would have my head if you came back with hair like mine."

Black. He meant black-- the same color as the Sinner's long, pin-straight locks, and the color of the small tuft of his own hair, blossoming out from the back of his head. He made a mental note of that, swallowing and nodding. The Sinner seemed pleased with that response and turned back towards the screens, hitting a few more buttons in a seemingly specific sequence. Activating it, apparently, as the screen on the device lit up, too.

"It should be fully attuned to this dimension's energy any minute now, though I recommend waiting for at least twenty-four hours before attempting a jump. Any other questions?"

"N-no, I got it. Thank you, Doctor Somerset."

"You're welcome. Come to me if there are any problems or odd finds related to traversing dimensions."

[orangetintedglasses]

...y little stargazers... ... emini constellation! The twins! Just like... ... starlight, I promise, I won't... starlight starlight starlight Welcome back, starlight.

The words yank him from an otherwise peaceful sleep, still echoing in his mind as he gulps down breaths to calm himself down-- his heart hammering against the walls of his chest. It feels... unmanageable, to the point where Vash has to get up and move; get outside and force fresh air into his system just to even try to relax.

What had that been? That couldn't just have been a dream or something, that was... that had to be...

He lifts his left arm and rests the palm of his hand against his right collarbone, where he can still feel the scrape of blades against it, brows furrowing in the center of his forehead as he shuts his eyes.

So much for sleep.

[orangetintedglasses]

An evacuation order had been called hours before, at the first sightings of a red-coated outlaw within the city limits. Then a second one had been spotted, and the military worked as quickly as they could, baffled by the reports of multiple sightings of Vash the Stampede.

Maybe a thousand or so people make it out of the city with that little notice. Maybe closer to two, depending on how successful attempts to corral panicked people are...

But the number that get swallowed up in a blast of blinding purple light is easily in the hundreds of thousands in a city that large. Nothing it touches survives; everything is vaporized within seconds.

The Third City is swallowed whole.

[ End of Event: Rewrite Successful ]

[orangetintedglasses]

Talking to yourself couldn't be that hard, right?

[orangetintedglasses]

A lengthy, explorative walkaround was part of his routine every time he ended up in a new town or settlement-- get to know the location, the nooks and crannies of the alleyways, where amenities were so he'd know where to top up on things before moving on... basic stuff. This place was pretty small compared to the last few towns he'd stopped in, but that never bothered him, really. Easier to find stuff that way; a simpler mental map of the area was always good.

Besides, it was easier to locate and take down any of his Wanted posters in smaller areas, too, without arousing too much suspicion. No one really cared if one or two amidst the swath plastered on the publicly-maintained notice boards were suddenly gone; he'd already taken one or two down off the sides of buildings while on his stroll, music blaring in his ears as he folded up the paper and stuffed it in his pocket to dispose of later.

The third one he'd found, though, there was something posted over it. Like, right on top of it-- and getting a closer look at the start white paper, apparently deliberately.

WHAT HAPPENED TO THE THIRD CITY WAS A WARNING A HERALD OF THINGS TO COME IF WE DO NOT CAST OFF OUR VEIL OF GLUTTONY

OUR AVARICE COST US THE GRACE OF THE TWIN ANGELS AND NOW ONLY ONE ANGEL STANDS AMONG US

HE IS OUR RECKONING HE IS OUR HOPE AND HE ALONE WILL SAVE US

... he'd... take that, too.

[orangetintedglasses]

The lack of sleep was really starting to get to him.

It was even starting to show on his face-- dark circles he didn't usually have had started shading in the spots just under his eyes, making his typically bright and sunny face look that little bit wearier.

No one really seemed to notice, though, which part of him was thankful for. Vash already knew there was a problem! He didn't need people getting concerned or asking about it, especially when he didn't even have an answer for himself as to why this was happening. Just that it was. Just that something had gone wrong and now he was apparently stuck in this strange state, left to just ponder and pry at his own limited recollection as he dropped his bag on a bench outside and sat down to just... rest for a minute.

In hindsight, though, closing his eyes would end up being a pretty big mistake...

( warning for a touch of surreal violence, a depiction of a decapitation wound, some Zalgo eye strain and just overall body horror )

[orangetintedglasses]

He was used to sandy death planets. Sandy death planets with aggressive fauna? Sure, it was a little different, but it was still pretty manageable! Unarmed? There wasn't anything alien or superhuman to hide around what were basically messed-up animals, so Vash had no issues outrunning or outjumping what was essentially big sets of gnashing teeth on four legs. Didn't need a weapon for those, that was fine.

... though, admittedly, sometimes those legs were covered in a thick cracked carapace and instead of gnashing teeth, it was spitting webs to slow him down. Then the massive bug got hit by a car just as it was about to take his head off, and exploded into several boxes of ammo, a red... syringe thing, and a gun, all of which were covered in viscous inside fluids that he'd begrudgingly picked up despite that. Guess the carapace hadn't been as thick as it looked. So, yeah, his recent discovery of the big bug-like creatures had been... eventful.

But the point where the Plant realized he was in actual trouble was when he'd run into a small group of people-- shirtless, mask-wearing people, which he was also decently used to. Still approaching with caution, he'd tried to ask them where he was, if there were towns nearby...

Their response was to scream and swarm, and in the end, Vash ended up ducking a few sawblades on sticks aimed right for his head, as they all babbled about a pound of flesh.

This place... really was literally just a more insane version of Noman's Land, wasn't it...??

[orangetintedglasses]

Curiosity wasn't very becoming when it came to getting too close to things he probably shouldn't have stuck his nose into. Another day, another foreign energy signature that caught his attention that brought him out to the middle of nowhere-- but this time, instead of dissipating and leaving a displaced person behind, what Vash found was a warped pocket of space. Something that pulsed and ebbed with strangeness, and immediately filled the Plant with concern that someone from this planet could suffer the same fate as those who'd been brought here.

The second thing that got in line behind that, though? Toeing the line and a little to eager to get ahead for it's turn at the wheel?

The curiosity that led him to step through it himself. If what was on the other side could give him any information on how this phenomenon worked, it meant that there could be a way to guarantee that people who did get stranded here had a way back. So, Vash had swallowed his nerves and stepped through, fully expecting the worst--

eeEEYAH-HA-HAH--!!

--and found himself on what felt like a mirror of the same planet.

[ multiverse connection: established ] [ location of displacement: unknown solar system ] [ spawn target: Pandora ]

[orangetintedglasses]

The scar around his neck itched sometimes.

Which is to be expected of a newer scar-- he's dealt with this almost his entire life, so Vash was very, very used to the feel of the hardened and gnarled skin attempting to heal around a wound it just couldn't fix right. He's had to pick bits of fabric and grime out of the tender pink tissue; Vash has adjusted to rubbing at itchy spots with the pads of his fingers or the bumps of his knuckles so he didn't tear the skin open again.

What he wasn't used to was sleeping with a scar around his neck that itched sometimes.

What he wasn't used to was it influencing his dreams. Putting him back in that place where that coarse rope digs into his flesh and cuts off his air-- where someone stares at him wide-eyed as another pulls and pulls and pulls with every intent on avenging the fallen city of JuLai. He can't breathe. That dry croak is seared into his memory as it eeks out his throat--

What he wasn't used to was waking up with starving lungs and taking ragged, gasping breaths to fill them up again; sweat and tears clinging to his skin as his body responded with pure, unfiltered panic over the fact that it hadn't been breathing for who knows how long. And all he could do at that point was try to calm himself down again, hoping that no one heard him so he could easily pretend it hadn't happened.

Guess it'd just have to be another early day.