Nicholas D. Wolfwood [Trigun Stampede] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lupusxylem) wrote2023-12-06 11:15 pm
lupusxylem) wrote2023-12-06 11:15 pm
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sticksandbones
I will not make this look pretty later, don't believe me it's all a lie
====
INVENTORY:
-The Punisher: Wolfwood's cross gun, normally covered in wrappings.
INFO from the mods on use so I don't forget: The cross-gun will be able to fire regular bullets (regains of these can be handwaved; silvered bullets can be purchased in the bonus AC store) just fine, without any special nerfs. The laser feature will be usable a max of 3 times a month.
-4 Vials of his Drugs(tm)
Info from the mods on use so I don't forget: Wolfwood can start with up to 5 vials of his Lab Drugs. More of these can be regained for the price of a Small Item (a maximum of 5 at once), but they will not work on other player characters for obvious reasons. Their healing ability will also be slightly nerfed to not heal anything instantaneously, but rather over a few minutes.
3/7: All Vials have been used. Will need to purchase replacements if he wants to use them again.
???: Forgot to put the date here but he's purchased more Vials, one has been used to he has 4 currently.
-A lighter
-A carton of cigarettes, more can be purchased/handwaved
-A winter coat that Heimr bullied him into purchasing
-A matching pair of boots for the coat
-A little knit wolf with sunglasses from Elsword.
-A blanket from Livio.
-A handgun with a wolf engraved on the handle.
-A black husky named Angelina
-A belt pouch to carry his regeneration vials with a cross emblazoned into the leather.
-Authentic rosary beads, with beads made from black glass and a heavy, silver cross pendant
-A black leather choker with a silver cross pendant, similar to the rosary
-A whole church(tm)
-A wool knit cat plushie from Pure Vanilla
-3 tomas chicks that currently live in Kiera's barn
-3 londonites
-Wolf skull shaped cufflinks
-A dagger for his "birthday" from Gnosis
====
INVENTORY:
-The Punisher: Wolfwood's cross gun, normally covered in wrappings.
INFO from the mods on use so I don't forget: The cross-gun will be able to fire regular bullets (regains of these can be handwaved; silvered bullets can be purchased in the bonus AC store) just fine, without any special nerfs. The laser feature will be usable a max of 3 times a month.
-4 Vials of his Drugs(tm)
Info from the mods on use so I don't forget: Wolfwood can start with up to 5 vials of his Lab Drugs. More of these can be regained for the price of a Small Item (a maximum of 5 at once), but they will not work on other player characters for obvious reasons. Their healing ability will also be slightly nerfed to not heal anything instantaneously, but rather over a few minutes.
3/7: All Vials have been used. Will need to purchase replacements if he wants to use them again.
???: Forgot to put the date here but he's purchased more Vials, one has been used to he has 4 currently.
-A lighter
-A carton of cigarettes, more can be purchased/handwaved
-A winter coat that Heimr bullied him into purchasing
-A matching pair of boots for the coat
-A little knit wolf with sunglasses from Elsword.
-A blanket from Livio.
-A handgun with a wolf engraved on the handle.
-A black husky named Angelina
-A belt pouch to carry his regeneration vials with a cross emblazoned into the leather.
-Authentic rosary beads, with beads made from black glass and a heavy, silver cross pendant
-A black leather choker with a silver cross pendant, similar to the rosary
-A whole church(tm)
-A wool knit cat plushie from Pure Vanilla
-3 tomas chicks that currently live in Kiera's barn
-3 londonites
-Wolf skull shaped cufflinks
-A dagger for his "birthday" from Gnosis
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But then he finds himself in this place, where the problems of home- while not entirely gone- are in a strange sort of limbo where he can compartmentalize them in ways he never could before. Vash is here, Livio is here and alive, and...it's all nearly too much for Wolfwood to handle. It's part of why he'd tried to just leave on that first day, hoping that maybe he would walk long enough to snap himself back to reality, only to wake up to himself dying in the desert or something. It would track that this whole thing ended up being a dying hallucination.
...it all feels so real, though. He's drunk sure, but he's plenty sober enough to be aware of what's going on. Vash is holding him like one might a lover, and he's not compelled to jerk away and push him off like he might have been in the past. In fact, the longer they embrace, the more that bitter sorrow wells up in his chest, that realization that this isn't something he deserves. He can't...really have this.
Wolfwood exhales a second time, and this time he can't hold himself together any longer. He blinks hard, feeling the tears he was fighting back from earlier spill over into the collar of Vash's jacket. Even when he was being held prisoner and fighting for his life, he never cried. Not from the misery, not from the pain.
But right now, where only Vash can be privy to it, he heaves a sob into his shoulder.]
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They're two sides of a coin, in that regard. The people they are back home, the paths they've chosen — those don't allow for others to walk beside them. Yet somehow, this world had broken not just Wolfwood free, but Vash as well.
It was dangerous. It was going to end in disaster in someway. But Vash can't deny that he feels right holding Wolfwood like this. There's always been an attraction, an idiotic desire to be close no matter what. He's always admired Wolfwood's willingness to throw himself into things, his conviction when it comes to protecting others. And as a result, he's grown used to swallowing down those feelings.
But not now. Not as Wolfwood cries into him, and Vash feels himself weep in kind. It's okay, he tells himself, that he's shedding a tear. They aren't for himself, but for the man coiled within his arms. He repeats his words like a mantra, a whispered chant just to remind Wolfwood that he isn't fighting alone, that Vash hasn't given up or written him off.]
I've got you. I'm here.
[The words are thicker now, slurred with both the tears he's shed and those that he's biting back, but they still carry the same strength of resolve as before.]
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But in this world, other than Livio, Vash is all he's got. He's the only person who knows him now inside and out. There's really very little left to uncover, save maybe the fact that Vash isn't the only one feeling like he doesn't want to let Vash go. Not just now, but...ever.
He's unable to speak for a little while, simply weeping against him like he never thought he'd be capable of. It sort of just bleeds out of him uncontrollably, and he knows later he'll be ashamed of it, but right now he just simply lacks the energy to care. It seems that Vash is in the same boat, though whether his own tears are sympathetic or something else entirely...well. That's not for him to speculate, he doesn't think.
It hurts so much. He truly wishes things could be different, yet it feels like ever since he was first born, he's been predetermined to be miserable. He isn't meant to be happy, because that wasn't the kind of world he was born into.
For right now, he lets Vash hold him. He holds Vash. And when he does finally find his voice again, it's terribly thick and muffled and he wouldn't be blamed if he didn't actually hear what Wolfwood was asking of him, but nevertheless...]
...stay. Will you...?
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At least this was different. Together they'd lanced a wound that had been festering for Wolfwood, and now it was finally being purged. And while Vash couldn't help the process, he would provide whatever support he needed. It was no different than when they fought together, watching one another's backs as their guns blazed.
Admittedly, he doesn't understand the words that the Punisher offers, but at least he's pretty sure he gets the gist of it. The hand in Wolfwood's hair slides back down, finding the span of his jaw and cradling it. He tilts the man's head up just enough, so that their eyes may meet. His own still shimmer with tears unshed, but he finds strength nonetheless.]
I will. I'll stay with you. Promise, Nick.
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The look in Wolfwood's eyes is deeply sorrowful, more than even he himself realizes. His face is streaked with tears and he looks like a mess, but to his credit he isn't trying to hide it. It's there for Vash to see, warts and all. And then Vash's hand is touching his face again, and like a feral cat reluctantly accepting affection, he leans into his palm.
It's okay to want this. It's okay to just...let it happen, he tells himself. Maybe he'll feel differently when he's sober. Maybe he won't.]
Thanks.
[He mutters lowly, sniffing loudly. God, he feels disgusting.]
Sorry. M'fuckin'...gross.
[And now Vash's beloved jacket is very much slightly Damp.]
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[This isn't just his bleeding heart seeping through. This is something worse. Affection wells up, undiminished by Wolfwood's teary-eyed state. Almost as if oblivious to the mess, Vash leans in to briefly brush their foreheads together, before he finally seems to realize that maybe, this was too much.
But only for now.
When he does pull back, it isn't far. He casts a glance down at his attire, steadily becoming aware of just how moist the fabric had become. To his credit, Vash isn't at all bothered by the state of his jacket. They both know that it has seen far worse than tears. The hardest part about caring for it right now is the fact that he has to draw his hands away from Wolfwood. From there, he simply sheds it and folds it up, treating it as delicately as one might handle glass. It's set aside, and Vash turns his attention back to Wolfwood once more.]
I can grab some tissues from the bathroom? If you want, I mean
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...yeah. That'd be great.
[Please, Vash, he is so moist.
Meanwhile, you know what mercifully is not moist? Wolfwood's bed, which has been spared of having whiskey dumped all over it. He managed to just sort of drop the bottle in such a way that it leaned up against the wall, so as long as one of them grabs it before they kick it over, it should be saved. Theoretically.]
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The least he can do is splash some water on his face, then paw it off with the sleeve of his thermal shirt. He makes sure that he looks slightly less stuffy and emotional, before finally collecting a roll of toilet paper to do the trick. It's not the best tool for their situation, but what can you do?
Returning to the bed, Vash hands over the roll with one hand, then reaches down for the whiskey bottle with the other. It's carefully capped off and set aside for the time being.
Only then does Vash allow himself to settle on the bed once more. He politely keeps his gaze averted from Wolfwood, waiting until he gives his permission before he looks back. They might have just cried themselves out on one another, but now that the moment was over, he doesn't want to disturb the intimacy.]
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He's not sure, actually. He sure does feel, though.
Wolfwood takes a minute to clean himself up upon Vash's return. Wipes his face, blows his nose, the works. He almost cannot believe he did that, but again, the whole weight of the situation isn't going to sink in until he's sobered up later and Vash is probably in his bed??? Since he asked him to stay, and that likely means "until morning". Not unless Vash plans on sleeping on the floor, which...........unlikely, after the moment they just shared.
He tosses a wad of toilet paper into the trash, pushing himself upright with a heavy sigh before regarding the little bags scattered on the other edge of the bed for a moment. After some consideration, he reaches into the one with the lollipops and pulls out one for himself, squashing that rising urge to smoke with something a little less offensive.
Vash can have one too, if he wants.]
I, uh. [...] ...sorry. About that.
[Maybe he doesn't need to apologize, but he feels like he should.]
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It's only a matter of time before it does, however. The blizzard outside has only continued to rage on. The Inn, already struggling to stay warm and keep its fires lit, was growing colder by the minute. And with only a handful of blankets to spare between them, their only option would be to hunker down together.
But all that would come with time. For now, Vash just shakes his head. The smile he offers is both tender and reassuring. Wolfwood, of all people, would know just how different it looks compared to the goofy grins Vash offered the rest of the world.]
You don't have to apologize. I'm glad you could let it out. [He plops down on the bed, shaking his head at the offer.] Those are for you! 'sides, I'm more likely to keep talking and accidentally swallow one whole.
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He'll take the bag back, then, pulling it closed and tossing it aside so he can focus on working that sucker around in his mouth, resisting the urge to just bite into it with his teeth instead of letting it dissolve like a normal person. The sugar helps, though he is definitely still woozy. The room isn't staying still no matter how still he is, and every time he blinks his eyes feel unusually heavy. At least he isn't seeing double, he isn't that far gone.]
Mm. Yeah, well. ...guess you know everything, now.
[Or, as much as he thinks Vash needs to know. There are other anecdotes he could tell of course, about his life of ruthless killing, but...he doubts Vash wants to hear about that.]
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I guess I do. [Which... now that he thinks about it, he realizes just how little Wolfwood knows about him. Surely he was provided with a fair bit of information by his employers, but Vash could only guess how far that went. Maybe, maybe he knew more than the average person, but it still wouldn't be by much.] Sounds like it's my turn to do the talking next time.
[Not tonight, though. Tonight is about taking care of Wolfwood. He eases a little further up the mattress, settling himself properly beside his companion. It's close enough that their legs touch, enough that Wolfwood could lean back over onto Vash again, if he wanted to.
He won't push it. But the offer is there.]
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He's a pawn in the game, nothing more. And once he'd outlived his usefulness, he- too- would be discarded, and he would just have to accept that. It's a necessity, if he wants to keep the people he cares about the most safe.
Vash has rejoined him on his bed, and there's a clear, silent offer to be close. Well. Closer. Closer than they would have casually.
...
Wolfwood shifts, a sort of shimmy against the wall, until he is leaning against Vash's side. There's no longer a big jacket to hide in, but that doesn't stop him.]
Bet you've got a hell of a story to tell.
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His own head tilts, angling so that he can rest his chin on top of Wolfwood's head. He hasn't felt so right — and so wrong — about a gesture in ages.]
I'm sure I do. [There's a hint of unsteadiness in his voice. He'd been asked to stay, but would that continue to be true if Vash told the truth? His background wasn't pretty, and his hands were far from clean. Would it make the Punisher think twice about him and the ideals he already seemed to detest?
It would be better for them if it never came up at all. Instead:]
You can ask me anything you want.
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Wolfwood breathes out slowly, so the sharp little intake of breath he gave just then is maybe not quite so obvious just as Vash is resting his chin against his head, and oh no the feeling is back. But it's not...a bad feeling, not by any stretch of the imagination. It's just new, and overwhelming, and he doesn't exactly know how to handle it. But as it's been doing for him this whole time, the whiskey has Wolfwood's back. It smooths over the nerves, gentle and forgiving, and before he really realizes what's happening, he's relaxing into what is most definitely an embrace at this point, one-armed or no.
Fuck. Fuck it.
He glances down, looking at the way they're now sitting together. Vash's legs are so long it looks silly with them halfway hanging off the edge of the bed.]
...you sure? I don't need to know right now.
[He knows Vash's past is fraught, and a lot of it isn't good. At least Wolfwood's could be summarized in a few words, but Vash...]
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Thankfully, he doesn't go anywhere. With a little adjustment, they're both settled in an embrace that's far more than one shared between friends. Likewise, Vash's own heart starts to thud as the gravity of their position settles in, too late for anything to be done.
It's fine. He can do this. Keep calm.]
Consider it an open offer.
[It doesn't have to be that night, not when they're both already raw. Vash just knows that the playing field is uneven at the moment.]
We don't have to do anything, really. Can just sit here and call asleep for all I care.
[It's about them that Vash realizes what falling asleep will entail. Hed only just talked about their shared rests together, but that had been for the sake of watching over one another at their worst. They were both in good health now, capable of agreeing (or disagreeing) to their circumstances.
And Vash didn't want to go anywhere.]
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Well. There really is only one thing that Wolfwood, personally, has been wondering even long before he and Vash ever met. He doubts it's something Vash can actually give a concrete answer to, but...perhaps he has a hunch. A hypothesis, at any rate. It won't require him to delve into details about his past or anything unsavory like that, at least not right now.
Not when Wolfwood is leaning in against him, savoring his warmth while also trying not to just vibrate right out of his own skin.]
I'll ask just one thing, then. For now. Might be...kindof redundant, but.
[He's also Kindof Drunk so words are hard.]
What...do you think Knives wants with you so badly? My orders...have always been to keep you alive, no matter the cost.
He could've just offed you a hundred times over to get you out of his hair, but he hasn't. I don't get it.
[Because...unlike what Vash may hope and pray for, Wolfwood doesn't think it's out of any sort of love or desire to see his brother again.]
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Absently, his gaze slides away.]
I know what I want it to be. And I also know what it's not. [It's as Wolfwood thought. Knives' desire to see Vash again didn't come back to familial love. Even admitting it to himself fills him with a bone deep ache. he lifts his hand to press down above his heart, just to keep the pain from radiating too far.]
I think he wants what I can give him. Power that I can't access. Not that I know how he plans to get at it.
[He'd never be able to predict what Knives was planning.]
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He looks over at Vash out of the corner of his eye, watching the way he keeps his gaze pointed elsewhere.]
But you're going to walk into his trap anyway. Just like that.
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[They've let down so many walls between each other, so what's one more? A note of defeat seeps into his voice, which comes out as little more than a whisper. He knows what Wolfwood will say. He could run into the sunset, forever and ever. The problem was that Knives would always follow him. In his wake there would be more Jeneora Rock's. More stolen plants. More sick and dying children.
But he doesn't say this, even if he's sure Wolfwood gets it. Instead, he offers:]
If there's a chance I can change his mind, to get him to return those plants, I have to take it.
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The only problem is, Wolfwood genuinely doesn't think Vash has what it takes to take him down, if it came to it. It's not even a matter of if he's literally capable. But...emotionally.
If he could dispatch Knives as easily as pulling a trigger...Wolfwood still doesn't think he would.]
...I don't know how you do it.
[He finally sighs, his voice just above a whisper.]
You've lived more than a lifetime of this bullshit. Me...I'd've probably gone insane by now.
...but I guess I didn't really have a conventional childhood, huh.
[Wolfwood didn't have one, period. He wasn't allowed. He never got a choice.]
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Only once he's done, does he lower his hand.]
I - we didn't either. Maybe none of this would have happened if we had. [Wolfwood has no idea just how deep that statement goes. Maybe if Vash is lucky, he never will. But even by admitting as much out loud, he's opened himself to another line of questioning.]
There are days where it's harder. Days where I wish I could give up. [Does he mean his morals, or entirely? Vash isn't saying.] But I don't get to have that luxury. Not when others have suffered more.
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And he does wonder. He wonders who Vash is, really. What was it like, "growing up" for someone like him. A Plant. What happened to bring things to this point? Everything- the Big Fall, their lives on this planet- it's all connected in some way. Even the generation of people born on No Man's Land such as Wolfwood know that.
He closes his eyes, letting those angry words die on his tongue. It's an incredible feat of self control for Wolfwood, who would sooner grab Vash by the collar and shake him until he started making sense. Maybe it's easier to relent when he feels the way he does right now. Tired. Hollow. Burdened with this ache in his chest that makes him feel like he's dying all over again.
There's a lengthy pause before Vash will feel a weight settle against his shoulder. Wolfwood, laying his head there. More like letting it thunk into it, but. It comes along with his hand coming up to tentatively touch the back of Vash's fingers on the hand resting on his hip. After a few false starts, he covers it with his own.]
Yeah. But you've suffered, too. A hell of a lot. That...matters.
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But the shoe never drops. Instead, warmth suffuses him as that tender gesture is offered. It makes Vash's eyelashes flutter, makes his stomach do flips powerful enough to make him feel nauseated. The back of his mind insists he should pull back, and yet -
His hand twists, just enough to thread their fingers together. His head angles just enough that he can bury his face within Wolfwood's hair. It isn't enough to diminish all of the pain he feels within his chest, but it does bury it for the time being. Enough, at least, that it makes laughing the rest of it away that much easier.]
Maybe it was all worth it. Gettin' dragged along by my hair brought me to you, didn't it?
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Wolfwood...snorts, chuckling suddenly under his breath when he feels Vash press his face against the crown of his head. Oh yeah he's definitely still drunk, but it's not the miserable kind he might get to mask his woes. He feels...warm. Warmer than he has in a while.
His hand is rough. His fingers are calloused, and his palm and fingers are lines with scars both old and new. His knuckles are a little hairy. It's not perfect, yet he holds Vash's hand all the same, his grip tightening for just a moment.]
Meeting me was worth it. Me. I think you've got a screw loose.
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