Inbox for sticksandbones

[lupusxylem]

I will not make this look pretty later, don't believe me it's all a lie

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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

Comments

Intermission | January 10th

[lupusxylem]

[Aldric's Grove is calm once more.

Wherever the castle was that kept them all prisoner, whether it was in the Grove itself or elsewhere, now seems as if it were merely a nightmare, or a long forgotten memory. Ice makes for poor souvenirs, after all. It has a habit of melting away without a trace, leaving no evidence it ever existed. Yet, the beauty of it all is somewhat lost when that castle brought with it only death and destruction.

And yet, the Grove has the gall to be calm. Animals, previously seemingly a non-entity in the forest, now exist within its fringes, however strange they appear. So long as they do not get brave and try to attack the residents, though, they may remain as simple reminders that things are changing. Something strange is happening, yet Wolfwood doesn't have the mental bandwidth to think about what that might be right now.

He's up extremely early. So early that the sun has yet to even rise. No one in the Grove should be awake at this hour, and if they are, they'd simply be overlooked by him anyway as he sets off from the house by the river, leaving a peacefully slumbering Vash and Angelina behind. Vash, who had just revived earlier in the week, hadn't fully recovered from his ordeal. Slowly but surely the ice around his heart seemed to be thawing, but it's been made abundantly clear that it will never be as simple as surviving. Reviving. Existing, somehow, undying.

Wolfwood's boots crunch through the snow as he makes his way, Punisher slung over his back. It's been re-wrapped, tied up in cloths and belts to make carrying it on his back easier. He's smoking a cigarette that he seems to have lit sometime earlier, his gaze centered forward as he walks. It seems strange, that he would go for a nightly stroll with his massive cross, but maybe makes a bit more sense when you remember it's his weapon, and that anything can happen out here.

But then...perhaps it makes less sense, now that he has a brand new silver handgun glinting in a holster at his side underneath his blazer, with the other side of his belt holding a pouch with his last three vials inside. Neither of which he draws right now, even as he meanders towards the center of the Grove, past the Inn, the Lab, the Clinic...

He makes it to the forest's edge, and with his enchanted sunglasses, he disappears into it.

Wolfwood isn't thinking about the Forest's dangers right now, not particularly. He has somewhere he wants to be, and the glasses are there to ensure he at least makes it that far without getting lost. He has no interest in getting himself killed necessarily, but he doesn't seem to be acting in his own best interests in that regard, either. No, he simply...goes, the same as he might if he were traveling the sands of No Man's Land. Alone.

In the end though, he doesn't actually get as far as he wanted to.

Even with the permissible paths being lit up for him like beacons, he can't...quite remember the way by himself. He gets turn around constantly, to the point where he begins to notice landmarks that he crosses by two, three, four times as the moon shifts positions in the sky. He isn't sure how many hours he does this, endlessly wandering and avoiding the wall of Fog until it occurs to him that the wall itself has been causing him to chase his own tail the entire time. It's...infuriating.

Eventually, Wolfwood stops in a copse of trees still a considerable distance away from the Grove, far enough that he can't see any of the buildings behind him when he looks. A feeling of bitterness rises up in his chest, foul and angry, that he barely manages to tamp down before he can get the urge to be destructive. The last thing he needs is to rile up something in these woods and invite trouble he wasn't looking for. So, with no desire to keep wandering for nothing, his shoulders go slack as the Punisher slides off his back. He pivots just slightly so he can lift it up, hefting its weight up to his waist before plunging it down into a deep snowbank in the small clearing he's found himself in. In the wood where he can't see, a few deer and a stoat watch him silently as he sinks to his knees.

It isn't the church. But this would do.

With the moon at its zenith in the sky, the light casts long shadows that stretch beyond the confines of this little piece of the woods that Wolfwood has come to rest in, with the shadow from the cross bearing down on him with a sort of otherworldy finality that makes him feel like he's being weighted down. It makes him feel small and insignificant as he folds his hands in front of himself and begins to pray.]

I don't...come here often.

[His shoulders slump. Great start. He clears his throat, readjusting his hands, pressing them a little more firmly together.]

Maybe it's because I gave up asking for anything a long time ago. You sure as hell didn't come through for me when I was a kid, and I didn't have anyone else to turn to. I remember asking, "Why, God? Why is this happening to me? I'm going to die. I don't want to die. Someone, please, save me."

Now look where we are.

[The wind rustles the branches around him as he pauses, feeling the way the ice starts to melt under his knees, seeping into his slacks.]

So. It ain't about me. Guess it's part of the whole M.O. that I'd get an answer over someone else, first. [His brows furrow as another gust of wind causes the straps on the cross to thud against it, flapping in the breeze.] I don't know who...or what is out there, listening. If anything. But if there is a God...thank you. For saving him. I don't...

[...]

I've fucked up. I let this...stupid bastard get into my head. I've fooled myself into believing I love him. Funny, right?

...kinda complicates things. Here...back home. I don't really know what's gonna happen anymore. I can't let him keep fucking me up like this whenever something happens, but I can't help it.

[But it was like that back home too, wasn't it. He just never wanted to admit it. If he ever saw Vash dying there...]

He...needs to be here. Not just here, but here. In the world. I know he's going to do more shit that will almost get him killed. And maybe next time he won't be so lucky. But, just...

Thank you, for this one time. He deserves it...but I don't.

[He bows his head lower.]

Please keep Vash safe. And Livio. ...Elsword. Mizuki. N. Gnosis. Kreide...

[And lower, as he lists off the others living in the Grove that he knows the names of, until he circles to the ones that have been here from the beginning.]

...Ydalir. Heimr. The...Gargoyle. Moder. And Nene. ...and all the ones we haven't found yet.

[...]

...Nai. For his sake.

[After that, Wolfwood stays silent for a long time. It seems like he might get up and leave soon, but he hasn't yet. He merely listens to the sounds of the forest, though there eerily aren't that many.]

This ain't gonna be the last big catastrophe, I know it. Something else is gonna happen and it might be as bad as the castle was, or worse.

[Wolfwood unfolds his hands, and this time, he presses them flat into the snow. He's less bowed in front of the cross at this point and instead is crouched there on his hands and knees, his eyes opening to look into the ice beneath frigid fingers.]

...I always feel like I'm going to die. I've only got so many vials left, and soon enough it's not gonna be enough. So...please.

[His fingers dig into the snow.]

Please, Lord...don't let me die. Not here. I've never been closer to death than I was in that castle, and when it was happening I thought...that I was okay with it, but.

I don't want to die. I don't want to leave them. I have...too much to do. I can't.

Please. You couldn't save me from the Eye. You didn't save Livio, and I don't expect you to listen to me now. So don't...not for me.

Do it for the people who matter.

[And that's all.

Wolfwood finishes his prayer and rights himself, lingering in the snow for a while longer. Perhaps he feels the need to keep a quiet vigil out here as the snow falls and leaves a thin blanket over his neck and shoulders, but the reality is that he just doesn't want to make the long trek back home yet. But if he doesn't now, he won't make it before Vash wakes up and wonders where he's gone.

So, with an arduous effort, he pushes himself upright and pulls the Punisher from the snow, slinging it over his shoulders once more.

Perhaps next time, his prayers will be confined within the walls.]