sticks and bones. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sticksandbonesmods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sticksandbones2024-01-05 07:59 am
sticksandbonesmods) wrote in sticksandbones2024-01-05 07:59 am
Entry tags:
EVENT & TDM 008
LET IT GO
WAKE UP
It’s strange, how as the dawn of a new day finally arrives, coinciding with the howling winds dying out, classic, adorable snowmen seem to have popped up all over the Grove overnight. The fog wall has yet to surround the barren remains of a town that once was, but it’s visible once more in the great distance.
Not that you can see it immediately. Something covers your eyes, and you can feel something heavy and frigid wrapped all around you. As you struggle more and more, the crunch of snow echoes through your ears as you step free- and when you turn back to examine their prison, you’ll realize one of the snowmen was you.
Meanwhile, old residents will get to deal with more and more people popping out of snowmen like daisies, and must remember that this is just their life now. It’s just another day in Aldric’s Grove.
Though, maybe you ought to help them before frostbite sets in.
Not that you can see it immediately. Something covers your eyes, and you can feel something heavy and frigid wrapped all around you. As you struggle more and more, the crunch of snow echoes through your ears as you step free- and when you turn back to examine their prison, you’ll realize one of the snowmen was you.
Meanwhile, old residents will get to deal with more and more people popping out of snowmen like daisies, and must remember that this is just their life now. It’s just another day in Aldric’s Grove.
Though, maybe you ought to help them before frostbite sets in.
MIRROR, MIRROR
The quiet couldn’t last forever. You should have known that something would happen, especially with the fog beginning to make itself known again. And this time, it’s something quiet. As you wake up one morning, there is a mirror on your nightstand — it’s silver and round, able to fit comfortably in your hand and wreathed in crystalline snowflakes.
And as you look into it, your reflection twists into something still undeniably you, but… have you a temper problem? Too many lies? A sadistic sense of humor? All of your worst traits are dragged out and reflected on the mirror, and no matter what, it keeps ending up wherever you are — and whoever else looks into the mirror will see this awful, terrible you, too. All of your worst characteristics, all the things you try to hide, unable to be hidden.
Maybe you keep trying to hide it. Maybe you let it stay wherever it keeps turning up, following you like a particularly terrible walking salesman, or maybe you break it. Regardless, nothing seems to happen… for now.
And as you look into it, your reflection twists into something still undeniably you, but… have you a temper problem? Too many lies? A sadistic sense of humor? All of your worst traits are dragged out and reflected on the mirror, and no matter what, it keeps ending up wherever you are — and whoever else looks into the mirror will see this awful, terrible you, too. All of your worst characteristics, all the things you try to hide, unable to be hidden.
Maybe you keep trying to hide it. Maybe you let it stay wherever it keeps turning up, following you like a particularly terrible walking salesman, or maybe you break it. Regardless, nothing seems to happen… for now.
WITH SHARDS OF ICE
“For now”.
Late into the night, everyone wakes up to a sudden, terrible chill. When you open your eyes, you’ll find that you aren’t in your inn room or home, but instead within a giant castle made of ice. It must be a ballroom of some sort, a grand hall glittering in the moonlight — but looking out the window shows that the world beyond the castle is but a frozen wasteland of more blizzards and nothing else. Though you’ve been granted some of your gear — weapons and some supplies, and coats if you’re lucky — you’ll find that the temperature is dropping steadily, while something approaches…
Peek out the door to the main hall and you’ll see what’s coming so noisily. An army’s worth of hallowed ice knights with all sorts of weapons are marching to the door, intent on slaying the intruders. Should they get close, they’ll attack; should they land the killing blow, you’ll instantly freeze into a solid block and shatter.
And if you broke the mirror that haunted you? On top of all of this, you can feel yourself gradually growing colder, physically and emotionally, and your magic, if you have it, takes on an icy flair that you may find difficult to control. Maybe it's your feet that start to turn to ice first — maybe it's your fingertips. But as the night goes on, you’ll steadily freeze solid, and like any fairy tale, only an act of true love could possibly save you. Good luck figuring out what that actually means. True love’s kiss? A genuine compliment? A hug? What could possibly save you from your fate?
Those of you who survive until morning, who don’t become solid statues of ice or die within the castle’s walls, will be lucky enough to witness the sun coming up through narrow windows the size of your forearm. All around you, the castle starts to melt, dripping freezing water onto your head. For as much as you try to run before you, presumably, drown terribly…
…your eyes will close, and you’ll wake up in your bed, drenched.
Late into the night, everyone wakes up to a sudden, terrible chill. When you open your eyes, you’ll find that you aren’t in your inn room or home, but instead within a giant castle made of ice. It must be a ballroom of some sort, a grand hall glittering in the moonlight — but looking out the window shows that the world beyond the castle is but a frozen wasteland of more blizzards and nothing else. Though you’ve been granted some of your gear — weapons and some supplies, and coats if you’re lucky — you’ll find that the temperature is dropping steadily, while something approaches…
Peek out the door to the main hall and you’ll see what’s coming so noisily. An army’s worth of hallowed ice knights with all sorts of weapons are marching to the door, intent on slaying the intruders. Should they get close, they’ll attack; should they land the killing blow, you’ll instantly freeze into a solid block and shatter.
And if you broke the mirror that haunted you? On top of all of this, you can feel yourself gradually growing colder, physically and emotionally, and your magic, if you have it, takes on an icy flair that you may find difficult to control. Maybe it's your feet that start to turn to ice first — maybe it's your fingertips. But as the night goes on, you’ll steadily freeze solid, and like any fairy tale, only an act of true love could possibly save you. Good luck figuring out what that actually means. True love’s kiss? A genuine compliment? A hug? What could possibly save you from your fate?
Those of you who survive until morning, who don’t become solid statues of ice or die within the castle’s walls, will be lucky enough to witness the sun coming up through narrow windows the size of your forearm. All around you, the castle starts to melt, dripping freezing water onto your head. For as much as you try to run before you, presumably, drown terribly…
…your eyes will close, and you’ll wake up in your bed, drenched.
FOOTPRINTS IN THE FRESH SNOW
The morning after that dreadful night, things… settle, again. Aldric’s Grove is quiet, and clear sunlight glistens across the snowy plaza and radiates off of frosted trees. Even now, the apple tree and blackberry bushes are unfazed by the cold, though the fruit may taste crisper and chillier than usual. Those that died within the castle return to life, feeling colder than normal for the rest of the day, but there seems to be no lasting damage. And, everyone who participated in the castle “game” receives a mysterious gift: A wooden coin with a sigil on it, resembling a clock with backwards hands behind a shield, attached to frosted pinecones, red berries and sprigs of mistletoe. It feels warm and protective.
You go outside. It’s been some time since anyone’s seen anything from the woods, let alone something that doesn’t want them dead — so imagine one’s surprise when a small family of deer can be seen walking amongst the trees. Birds alight to the branches on rare moments, and it’s surely a sign of something, that life has begun to return to the forest despite the deep snow and deeper chill.
Never mind that one of the deer has an extra set of antlers and another has three eyes. Never mind that the birds sound like people. Never mind that the rabbits have blood on their maws.
It’s just another day in Aldric’s Grove.
You go outside. It’s been some time since anyone’s seen anything from the woods, let alone something that doesn’t want them dead — so imagine one’s surprise when a small family of deer can be seen walking amongst the trees. Birds alight to the branches on rare moments, and it’s surely a sign of something, that life has begun to return to the forest despite the deep snow and deeper chill.
Never mind that one of the deer has an extra set of antlers and another has three eyes. Never mind that the birds sound like people. Never mind that the rabbits have blood on their maws.
It’s just another day in Aldric’s Grove.
SPARK NOTES
CLICK TO EXPAND!
WAKE UP
Good day, new arrivals! You are now a snowman. Hopefully people who have been here a bit longer are willing to give you a blanket or ten.
MIRROR, MIRROR
A mirror appears and starts following you around, reflecting what you think are your worst traits or worst version of yourself is. Other people can look into it and see the awful you, too. You can break it and it'll leave you alone, or you can let it stalk you all month.
WITH SHARDS OF ICE
Welcome to the ice castle! It's cold, but you have your stuff with you, and it's not unlivable. Well, until the frozen army of knights starts marching in with the intent to kill everyone inside, anyway. One lethal hit from them will make you shatter into pieces. For those of you who broke your mirrors, you'll gradually grow colder both physically & emotionally, and eventually start to freeze solid. Don't worry, though, you can be saved through the power of love.
FOOTPRINTS IN THE FRESH SNOW
Dawn rises on the Grove and the dead come back to life. Everyone who participated in the castle game receives a magical charm, though they don't know what it does so far. Animals come back to the Grove as well! ...why do they look like that?
OOC
Happy January! TDMs are game canon as a reminder, and if you'd like to plot with people for this event, head over to OOC plotting. While it is not known to player characters at this time, the charms granted as a reward for the ice castle can undo one future negative effect (i.e. a major death). They are a one-time use item. As for how characters discover this information... idk, we'll see how y'all decide to utilize those. :)
UPDATES
❖ None yet!
no subject
But this is different than that was. Vash hadn't spoken to Rollo in years. He and Wolfwood, in contrast, have made leaps and bounds of progress in terms of personal growth with one another over the last month, and that's to say nothing of the kind of relationship they're in now. It only figures that something like this would happen to disrupt their tenuous peace, for however long that lasted.
It. Kindof makes him wish he'd pulled Vash back in that morning, when he felt him get up to leave for the day. If only to have just a few more minutes, if he could have known.
He says nothing. He wants to answer Vash, to say I love you back, but he can't move his mouth. The rapidly creeping ice has reached his neck now, and it's quickly taking hold of what little unfrozen parts of his body still remain. He can't even draw breath, because his lungs have frozen over too. He can't even return the embrace. He can't do anything.
...
Until suddenly, he can.
Hairline fractures suddenly blossom from the points where Vash kissed along his jaw. The ice breaks audibly with awful, high-pitched ringing sounds that echo off the ice surrounding them. Wolfwood's eyes flicker over to meet Vash's, frantically. He can't move still, not yet, but surely he can see it...right?]
no subject
And yet -
Given their proximity, it's impossible to miss the way the ice cracks. He isn't warm where it breaks, but there's still heat there. It brings to mind his embrace with Nai, the way he'd freed him. He'd assumed that it was only a matter of plant biology but - ]
Shit -
[He shifts to the side, straddling those frozen hips. He grips Wolfwood's face between his hands and leans forward, catching his lips in a half-frozen kiss. It makes his lips ache, and his body shivers given the proximity, but he doesn't shy away. The only movement he does offer is shifting downward, trailing kisses down his throat, over his chest and shoulders, any where he thinks might make a difference against the ice.]
Stay with me. Please, stay with me.
no subject
He's still stuck prone as Vash quickly moves around him, pressing their lips together in a kiss that he's unable to reciprocate. His entire body aches in a way he never thought was possible, his chest burning with the need to breathe despite the fact his body has frozen through. Yet, somehow...somehow, it seems like Vash has the right idea. Every point of contact, everywhere he's kissed suddenly breaks and begins to rapidly melt away. It seems the strongest where he kissed him on his lips, because where once he couldn't even move his jaw, now he finds that he can turn his head entirely, it lolling forward against his chest as the rest of him follows suit.
The instant his chest is no longer encased, he heaves on a breath, choking and coughing. Sensation has yet to return, and the cold that's overwhelmed him is thorough and horrific, but he isn't dead. Not yet.
He's thawing because of Vash. Just like his brother before him, he's healing him.]
no subject
Keep breathing, Nick. Please don't leave me.
[His own face feels colder, the longer he presses his lips to whatever he can reach. His vision blurs. Some part of him wonders if he's taking it into himself. He wonders if it's only a matter of time until he becomes ice instead. To him, it doesn't matter, it's a sacrifice worth making.
It always has been.
But no, as he blinks hard in an attempt to clear his vision, he realizes that it's not his own impending doom, but a film of tears. He's been crying for who can say how long, streaming wetness down his neck and onto his chest. No wonder he's freezing.
He can't bring himself to give a damn.]
Nick. Nicholas. You can hear me right? You're still there?
no subject
Instead of coming to alone in the sand at buttfuck o'clock after an attempted hit gone horribly wrong, his vision blurs back into focus to the tune of Vash's face hovering over him, his cheeks streaked with tears and a look on his face like he just saw him die. Or, he very much thinks he did.
He hates seeing it. He really does. So he tries to sit forward, even though his entire body aches and the cold still hasn't fully left him. But even as Vash lets up on the affection, the warmth in it is still working. The rest of Wolfwood's frozen body rapidly thaws out, his legs falling limply into a loose stretch ahead of him now that they're no longer stiff.]
Ye...yeah. Yeah...m'here.
[Groaning, Wolfwood turns his head towards Vash's chest, his hair flopping into his eyes.]
What the fuck.
no subject
[He doesn't. He knows that this magic exists on some level, having already witnessed it, but he couldn't explain how it worked. And what did the truth matter, when at least Wolfwood was alive. Somehow, Vash had managed to reach for him as he started to slip beyond the veil and pulled him right back.]
It doesn't matter. It doesn't.
[Because Wolfwood is still here. He buries his face in his hair, to hell with how wet and cold it may still be. The residual fear still races through him, and it won't abate until he's managed to touch every inch of his skin. Only once he was certain that the cold wouldn't come back will his mind be at ease.
Which... might be some time, considering that they're still trapped. It's only a matter of time until the knights come back through. Even as one arm remains tight around Wolfwood's shoulders, the other slips down to his gun. He can only do so much — what they needed was a way out.]
I'm sorry, I know you're tired. I know it's probably a lot to get up, but we have to keep moving, Nick.
no subject
A small blessing, and perhaps some relief to Vash's already addled mind, is the way Wolfwood is actually able to move his arms slightly to return the gesture. One arm is still around his shoulders, but the other one he can sort of reach around his torso to squeeze, gently. Just that much more affirmation that he isn't slowly freezing to death, still.
As if on cue, the moment Vash tells him they have to move, the ground around them vibrates. Stomp. Stomp, go the feet of the knights just a room away, causing Wolfwood to grit his teeth and curse harshly under his breath. He's lucky he thought to buy the boots he wears now from Heimr, because it makes it easier for him to gain traction on the ice as he braces himself against Vash, struggling to try and get to his feet.]
There's too many. Every time I shoot one, t-ten more takes its place.
no subject
[Vash hasn't fired his gun, not yet. He'd been hesitant to do so at first, out of fear that there was something human deep within. Coming across the so-called carnage Wolfwood had left in his wake, however, has changed this. There's no blood, flesh, or even bone left behind. Whatever created these creatures, they didn't seem to have done so with a human base at the core.
It'd make it easier for Vash to fire on them, if nothing else.]
We've gotten out of worse before, haven't we? [This, admittedly, had nothing on a Sand Steamer barreling full speed toward an orphanage, with no discernable way to stop it. Even if the windows are small, there's still a world out there beyond them. They just have to find it.
As Wolfwood rises to his feet, Vash keeps a tight grip on his waist. He tells himself it's just to make sure he remains balanced. Yet he isn't so sure that's entirely true. Part of him just doesn't want to let go, for fear that something else might try to snatch him away.
The footsteps of the knights grow louder, draw closer. His free hand draws his gun.]
As long as we're together, right, Nick?
[He turns his head to face the man, offering a quick wink.]
no subject
What a joke.
The longer he's on his feet, the more feeling starts to creep back into his extremities. It hurts like a bitch, but he forces himself to flex his hands a bit to encourage the blood flow to them, watching as Vash reaches for his gun. In turn, Wolfwood unceremoniously lurches forward- just for a moment- and uses the side of his heel to kick the Punisher back towards himself. Vash might have to grab it off the floor to get it into his other arm, but soon enough he'll be back to his full range of motion, and then it will no longer matter.]
Right. [The way Vash winks like that, no doubt to try to lighten the mood, makes Wolfwood hate him in that moment just as much as he loves him. Jesus Christ.]
I've got your back, needle-noggin. These things...they don't get back up, after.
[He gets his fingers set into the holes of the skull of the gun, finally able to change its firing mode now that his fingers are no longer frozen solid.]
Let's clear a path.
no subject
It's the first time he's actually let go of Wolfwood. He doesn't like it, but it has to be done. Consider it earning their next tomorrow with one another.
It's a cold comfort, if you pardon the pun, that the monsters coming their way don't get back up. They're better than humans, in that regard. The admirable human instinct to survive at all costs can be a detriment for someone like Vash, who never shoots to kill.]
Right.
[He breathes out a steady exhale the moment the first Knight rounds the corner. Even at a distance, the first shot rings true, shattering it into little more than shards of ice. The next to come around meets the same fate. He picks them clean for as long as they both need for the Punisher to fully rev up.]
no subject
The moment the Knights start to emerge, he brings his gun up level with his shoulders, the entire length of it splitting open to reveal the hidden chamber within. Vash buys him just enough time to get it ready, one goes down, two, and then the entire battalion they've managed to attract follows suit.
With the cross humming beneath his hands, he lets loose.]
Eat shit!!
[Instead of a barrage of bullets, the gun fires one of it's very limited laser blasts, a beam of concentrated energy that actually blasts a small shockwave back at both Wolfwood and Vash as it fires. It doesn't so much connect with the first Knight as it simply melts it on contact, along with several that were standing right behind it...and probably part of the castle wall they were just coming around, uh, maybe it's a good thing he can't do that one more than three times-]
no subject
It feels good to let some of the pressure out. It feels good to watch something else crumble instead of him. And as much as he hates it, it doesn't stop him from firing on the few stragglers that come through after the burst.
Vash fires until his gun is out. It's only then that he slides back, letting Wolfwood take the forefront and cover for him as he rifles through his pocket to find the next chamber to pop in.
His fingers alight on one just as he hears the clanking of iced over boots. He thinks, at ifrst, that it's just another member of the batallion in front of them. It's only once his gaze flicks upward at the sight of movement that he realizes his mistake.
One lone knight, a straggler has crept up behind them. ANd as vash looks upward, he realizes that the pike he wields is being thrust forward. There's no time to reload and shatter him. He has just scant seconds.
And so he throws one arm wide, clapping Wolfwood on the back with a fully metal limb. It's hopefully enough to knock him forward, even if only by a few stumbling steps. This happens over the course of one pump of the heart. In the second he throws himself forward, straight into the path of the coming weapon.
He feels the ice more than anything as it penetrates deep into his torso — penetrating straight through the solar plexus and sticking out the other end. It's... not quite a killing blow, by some miracle, but only because the ice of the weapon freezes the arteries in their place, in addition to cutting off the flow. He can't bleed out, if the blood doesn't flow, right?
A croak leaves him, a noise of surprise as he stares down at his skewered form. He's been shot. He's had his arm severed, but he's never been impaled. Maybe he's just a little impressed. But that feeling can only last so long. The knight is still alive, and he only has so long before the knight makes its next move.
He twists just a little, though not so much that it wrenches the pike out from his chest. Just enough to catch the broad line of Wolfwood's shoulders in his periphery.]
N-Nick -
no subject
It was easy enough to get separated from his wayward sibling in the first place. Vash has too many people he wants to save and too much love in that foolish, too-big heart of his. Nai, for obvious reasons, did not follow after. Vash has survived entire cities exploding before, countless times; a frozen legion wouldn't stop him. Nai's confidence in his brother's abilities to survive like a cockroach in a nuclear explosion are as extensive as his twisted affections for him are. That confidence...
...it doesn't stop him from making his way toward the sounds of battle anyway. After all, there's that secondary, genuine part of Nai that thinks to himself: "Vash is important to me. That's my goddamn brother.
If anything happens to him I will kill everyone in this castle."That part is the part that cries out when he, a split second too late, is unable to stop the ice-knight from running Vash through. It is, in that single moment, when his abilities choose to malfunction; a sharp tendril lashes out to swipe the knight's head clean off, revealing nothing but an empty suit within, but the strike isn't quick enough.]
Vash!!
[It is not the scream of a sibling scorned. It is a hollow, broken noise, so unlike Millions Knives that it ever so briefly shakes him out of his own anger just enough to realise it. It's the shout of someone who, not hours earlier, got his first hug from his twin in over a century.]
no subject
He manages to get his gun swapped over to its normal firing mode right as Vash needs to reload, meaning that the assault on their adversaries does not let up for even a second. They're being mowed down by a machine gun now in essence, and Wolfwood has no intentions of letting up on the pressure. They can't know just how many Knights are coming after all, so they have no choice but to keep firing until they stop coming.
It also means that he has no idea that they're being approached from behind. He has no reason to think they could be. Their backs were to a safe place, or so he thought. And never mind that...Vash has his back. There's no way he could be taken by surprise.
And, well. Truly, he isn't.
Wolfwood startles as Vash suddenly grabs hold of him, managing to connect with that arm hard enough that it does knock him a relatively far distance thanks to how unsteady he still is on his feet. He skids on the ice, just barely keeping himself from falling flat on his ass as he wheels back around to bark at Vash for shoving him, looking back over his shoulder just in time to watch as he's struck through the chest with an icy spear.
They say time slows in times of crisis. People are capable of doing things they might not be able to, otherwise. Great feats of strength, unimaginable acts of bravery, split-second decisions that save peoples' lives. But here? Wolfwood has never felt more helpless. He can only watch as Vash stands there, turning to look back at him with his eyes wild and desperate with pain. He doesn't actually hear him say his name so much as he sees his lips moving, because his ears are suddenly ringing with the voice of another.
Wolfwood staggers back another step, and this time, he can't keep himself upright. His boots skid across the ice as he falls flat on his ass, looking up now at the chaos as Nai seems to just appear out of thin air, one of his tendrils taking off the head of the offending Knight a second too late. The body soon collapses once its been dispatched, but it doesn't matter. It doesn't fucking matter because Vash just took an attack meant for him.
The Knights are still bearing down on them from a distance, yet they may as well no longer be a presence. Wolfwood is forcing himself back to his feet, having dropped the Punisher entirely as he throws himself towards Vash, partly afraid to touch him, but also refusing to pull back when he's obviously- obviously-]
Hey! Hey!!-
[In the end, he makes a grab for his shoulder, then tries to angle himself so that he's in his periphery so he doesn't have to turn to look at him. His one regret may be forcing Vash to see the wild terror in his eyes as he struggles to comprehend what just happened, what to do, if this is even...
Fixable.]
no subject
Somewhere, he hears his name. It doesn't come from Wolfwood, who he hasn't taken his eyes off of. Vash thinks he the sound, thinks he recognizes the agony, and it just makes it so much worse. If he could just turn his neck enough, he'd see his brother, know that in these very last seconds, he wasn't alone on either side. Instead, he stares at Wolfwood, trying to find -
what? Something to say? A witty comment to keep them all optimistic. He knows what's happening, he's not stupid. Maybe back home he could have survived something like this, but not here. His healing is slowed, there was no way his body could patch up the wound before the blood loss was too great. Even now, he tastes copper in his mouth to a degree he never has before. He coughs, and it spews across Wolfwood's shoulder in a near cascade.
But maybe if he finds the right words, it'll make it better. Not for him, he knows his life is already forfeit. But if he can choke the perfect string out, maybe it'll keep both his lover and his brother from carrying the burden as they moved forward toward their own tomorrow.
There would be no more for him.]
Nick- [His knees start to give out, and he pitches forward.] Look at me, yeah - don't go cryin'. Smile for me - one last time? It's better when - when you do.
[His strength wanes quickly now. A chill grips him, deeper than he's ever felt before. It sets his teeth chattering, making it all the more difficult to finish what he has to say. Even if he doesn't finish what's meant for Nick, it will have to be enough. He can't see him, but he knows Nai isn't far now. If this is his last moment, and he knows it is, then he has to offer something more.]
Help him. N-nai. He needs -
[But if there was anything else he wanted to say, it doesn't come out. Though the blood had melted the ice earlier, the rapid onset of the cold both inside and outside of his body was rapidly undoing that. Suddenly, it isn't his own fluids that are pouring out of him, but frost. At follows the course of the blood, only to spread s out further. Unlike with Wolfwood, who had fought it for hours, it's immediate. In one second, Vash breathes. In the next, his chest is gripped with ice itself.
He can't breathe. His heart stops. He can't even move his fingers to try and hang onto Wolfwood that much longer. For a terribly cruel second, he wonders if he'll be stuck like this until his brain finally runs out of oxygen, frozen in place and left to suffer.
And then there's the sound of cracking. Unlike before, it isn't high pitched and on the surface. From the exact epicenter of his wound, deep, terrible cracks spread outward, large at first, then fragmenting into microfissures. One by one, the pieces fall away, tiny bits of the whole that was once Vash the Stampede.
Once, but no more.]
no subject
These are not thoughts that he voices, strangely unable to force the words out, like they'd been ripped from his lungs and dissolved into aether. Nai's egotistical, self-serving side slips off the metaphorical cliffside and into the churning, frozen waters below, left to drown alone. The side that Wolfwood knows exclusively, all of that, for the moment, is gone. What remains is that of a child in a man's body, wanting nothing but himself and his brother to be fine, for them to have their imagined utopia (well, Nai's, but he'd like to think Vash will see the light some day), for them to get out of here and go home. There's the need to throw a fit, to "fix" things in the only way he knows how, to wretch his brother from the Punisher's grasp and hold onto him, because no one else in this damn universe should have the right.
There's a fix. Nai knows there's a fix, because Vash fixed him when he was freezing to death, and yet he doesn't push Wolfwood away. Nai doesn't even try to get rid of the man, because right now, if the solution truly is something as simple as a damn hug, Vash needs all the hugs he can get.
So he rushes forward, and he encircles his brother in the tightest, warmest hug someone so cold and standoffish as Nai can manage. Never in his life did he ever stop loving Vash, for all of Vash's stupid antics, for his forgiveness where there should be none, for his compromises and running away. That utopia is going to be theirs. It was always their future.
...
The hug does nothing. The frozen surface of Vash cracks, shards falling like heavy snowflakes, and Nai's head snaps up to meet Wolfwood's gaze. His expression is pained. Horrified.
Do something, it says, because he knows that Wolfwood's love for his brother is true, too, even if Nai previously wished it weren't.]
no subject
This moment, watching as Vash bleeds out in front of them, struggles to gasp out his final words to both Wolfwood and Nai in turn, leaves Wolfwood feeling sick. He's never felt so violently ill in his entire life, as if he may simply pass out on the spot just having to see it all happen so close to him. In those last moments, Vash clings to him. He coughs up blood that seeps into his clothing, flecks against his face and rushes slick and uncomfortably hot over his hands were Wolfwood tries to keep a grip on him. He wants to say something, anything to interrupt Vash and deny the reality of what's going on, because unlike Vash being able to accept it as Wolfwood was ready to accept his own death...this here?
He cannot. He will not. Not him. Not FOR him.
There's no time to rail against reality. Not when Vash's wound very suddenly freezes over, reminiscent of what was happening to Wolfwood but worse. It's instantaneous, his entire body crystallizing into solid ice all the way down to the blood that previously slicked the icy floor all around them. And in a wild moment of mutual understanding, both he and Nai seem to think the same exact thing at the same time. Only, Nai gets there first.
...and Wolfwood, who had previously been clutching Vash's corpse like a lifeline, abruptly lets him go the instant Nai moves. One might assume it's fear of the Independent, who is capable of reducing a human body to slivers in nanoseconds, but that couldn't be further from the truth. Wolfwood doesn't understand what's happening with the magic that exists here, just that it's something beyond any of their control, even that of the Independents. It's spurred on by a deep emotional connection, it just hasn't managed to fire in his struggling brain what that connection was. What it's been the entire time.
Love.
It's baffling, watching the way Nai embraces the body, but he doesn't stop him. He fights to keep himself upright as it is, his vision swimming, blurring maddeningly as...nothing happens. In fact, it seems that the deterioration of his body only hastens, yet before Wolfwood can even think, Nai turns and meets his gaze. Their eyes lock, and Wolfwood feels every muscle in his face go slack at what he sees looking back at him.
A quiet, desperate bid for help. He can see it, somehow, glittering bright like steel in Nai's eyes. It is immensely sobering, and if Wolfwood wasn't already fighting back tears, he's sure his brain would have had an even more baffling response to it.
He does not hesitate. He surges forward and gathers what's left of Vash up in his arms, hands trembling as he cradles the back of his head. He doesn't say anything. He brings him forward, barely struggling with the now heavy-ice, and presses his lips to Vash's, slightly parted in death. He kisses the icy surface, heedless to the way his skin immediately tries to freeze to the surface, ignoring the way his own icy breath is blasted back into his face as he exhales harshly through it, desperate for it to work, it has to work it worked for him-
Wolfwood pulls back, his lips chapped and his cheeks frosted over by proxy, and presses another kiss to his cheek. His forehead. His hair. And as Vash's body continues to fall apart bit by bit, he feels his own soul beginning to fracture under the strain.]
Vash. VASH! Come on- come on!
[The left side of Wolfwood's body suddenly lurches forward, jostled to the side as Vash's good arm completely falls off. Another shaky inhale follows suit, knives in his lungs. He tries to kiss him again, but he's choking back a sob so hard that he can't keep his mouth closed for it, his teeth skipping painfully across the icy surface.]
Needle-noggin! [He couldn't say it, before. As he froze to death, he couldn't-] I love you. I love you, do you hear me? Don't-
[The Knights' every footstep as they march ever closer cause the walls around them to shudder ominously. With it comes the last disruption needed to force the rest of Vash's body to succumb under the strain as it falls apart in Wolfwood's grasp, shards tumbling like broken glass through his fingers to join the rest of what once was a recognizable body. Now, it's already difficult to tell what part is him, and what was merely here before.
Wolfwood screams. A broken, mournful, agonized wail that tears his throat apart.]
no subject
It would be better. Nai can handle Vash's ire at him, actually. He can handle the frustration, he can deal with their frequent disagreements, their fights out in the snow and their fights back home, so numerous they can't be counted on both sets of their hands. The quarrels aren't so bad, in comparison to the chilling realisation that there's no going back, there's no saving Vash, and there's certainly no chance at seeing his brother ever again, as far as he's aware.
Unlike Wolfwood, Nai does not let out any more screams. He seethes, squeezing his eyes shut; his nails dig into the thick wool covering his arms, and he bites his lip until it bleeds. That blood gets wiped away on the back of his wrist eventually, warm and sticky and hot, much unlike the ice that poured out of Vash's wound. Part of him boils at the thought that Vash jumped in front of that hit for Wolfwood, who — by Nai's measure — certainly doesn't deserve to be protected. Another part of him bristles at the fact that, no matter what occurred, it was that knight that dealt the killing blow. This place, far from home, took his brother away from him.
This world can't be saved. He decides it with a note of finality, listening to Wolfwood's pitiful wails all the while. An agony he shares, no doubt, but his rage has twisted into something far more primal. For just a moment in their shared misery over the loss, Nai feels the brief flickers of his abilities wanting to cooperate with him, finally. He hears the legion coming, and wagers they have maybe thirty to sixty seconds before they're under attack again. Neither of them have been given a chance to mourn, to take a breath, to look at each other with a fleeting sense of temporary respect — and Nai is already moving.
No one takes things from him without retribution.
Six bladed tendrils unfurl from his back, shredding holes through the clothing Heimr gave him, but the chill that seeps through goes ignored. Four of those reach over Wolfwood and to his discarded gun, heft it, and...
Nai hands it over. The weapon that was turned on him not that long ago, he freely places upright at Wolfwood's feet.]
You're a man of vengeance, aren't you, Punisher? [There's a growl to his voice, not aimed at Wolfwood.] Take from them what they stole from you. From us.
["Us". Not a word Nai uses lightly.]
Raze it to the ground in his name.
[Nai's grip on his tendrils yet again wanes, and he's forced to put them away. This, strangely, is alright with him; the blades he conjures from his wrists still work perfectly fine, and if he's honest with himself, he wasn't going to spend time ripping the knights apart with those tentacles.
No, this is personal now.]
no subject
It's cold enough that his tears have already gone cold, near freezing over on his cheeks as he remains crouched in the remains, dizzy from the force of his crying. His ears ring. His body feels heavy. Despair grips him in a way it hasn't since he watched Livio die on the Sandsteamer.
He catches movement out of the corner of his eye, vaguely registering it to be Nai's knife tendrils. Under normal circumstances he'd be on high alert, jerking back to defend himself from a perceived attack. Instead, he remains just where he is, his head bowed with his hands now pressed flat to the bloody ice beneath him as it rapidly freezes over. He has no idea what Nai intends to do now, but he doesn't care. He should have died earlier. If he had, none of this-
None of it.
...Hearing the dull thunk of the Punisher against the ice is what ultimately gets Wolfwood to turn his gaze upwards, shocked to see that it is none other than Nai himself handing it over. Not raising it to shoot him, to destroy the source of Vash's ultimate demise, but to offer it to him in kind. His eyes dart over Nai's visage, as if trying to uncover some sort of hidden meaning there, like he means to use this to trick or manipulate him in some way...but he can tell that for once, that isn't the case. Nai's gaze reflects all of the bitter rage and hatred that now fills Wolfwood to the brim. Previously, it felt like he wouldn't be able to get up. There was a part of him that was genuinely ready to just let the Knights come and finish the job.
But with the Punisher now laid out before him, Wolfwood reaches up towards it. He uses the cross to pull himself up off the floor, blood and melting ice dripping from his face and hands. Breathing heavy, he leans against it for support, continuing to match Nai's gaze with one that is distant, hollow. Then, as their surroundings continue to shake, and Nai turns to face their encroaching foe with blades at his wrists, Wolfwood sees something left on the ground behind him that he stoops to pick up without thinking. He hefts it in one hand, brushing his thumb across the grip. Peacebringer, still fully loaded with a brand new chamber.
Smile for me - one last time? It's better when - when you do.
Wolfwood lifts the Punisher under his left arm. With his right, he brings Vash's pistol up, feeling the weight of it in his hand. Remembering how, just earlier that very same day, he'd been agonizing over whether or not to even buy more ammo for it. Now, he'll never have to worry about it again.
A smile, vicious and manic, breaks across his face as his shoulders begin to tremble with a laugh that bubbles out of him like molten tar. It's broken sounding, harsh with the way cold steam bursts through the gaps of his gritted teeth. And as the first new wave of Knights approaches, Wolfwood lifts Peacebringer and blasts off one of their heads.
Lethal. Perfect accuracy. No room for error. No room for mistakes.
The Punisher begins to rev.]
Don't let a single one escape.
no subject
[Vengeance must be wrought. The castle has to be razed to the ground, the empty armoured legion has to be obliterated, and then, Nai thinks, they can set their sights on whoever or whatever trapped them here. All of this is easier said than done, but logic is completely out the window. Nai sees red and only red, amidst the cool whites and blues of the castle.
The only thing that would make this more satisfying is if the monsters bled.
He doesn't think he needs to tell Wolfwood to aim wherever, however, and that he'll dodge it. Nai is too laser-focused to let himself get caught in the crossfire, dampened abilities or no. When Wolfwood fires, he dodges underneath. When a knight tries to swing down on him mid-dodge, Nai uppercuts it and uses the falling corpse as a shield to block another oncoming hit. It's a smooth dance between knights, weaving in and out of the legion while Wolfwood clears out the riff-raff in front and on the outer edges.
Let the man dual-wielding guns mow down the front row. Nai will take out the larger knights in the back, if he can get to them.]
no subject
And tear them apart he does. He is not holding back a single iota of firepower here. The muzzle of his gun flashes without rest, a guttural roar bellowed from his chest over the din of the bullets peppering the ice. In the rare moments that the gun needs to rev back up, he'll lift Peacebringer and start picking off the few shambling remains that feel the need to keep walking even though he's already put them down.
This isn't just about revenge. It's cathartic. It's necessary, he thinks, to keep his own feelings in check. If it weren't for this outlet, he would find some more destructively harmful way to get these feelings out, and what better place to expel them than this hell?
There is no mercy. Their surroundings aren't spared. And when Wolfwood gets the chance, he will charge up another massive blast from the Punisher that not only takes out another huge swathe of enemies, but also may very well blast someone else away nearby if they're not paying attention.
You may want to duck.]
no subject
Nai can hear the sound of the Punisher revving up a split second before that laser blast fires. It gives him the wherewithal to duck just in time, crouching low — practically crawling — as that laser slices its way through the front through midpoint of the cavalry, only blocked at the end by those larger knights he's working on murdering managing to take the blast dead-on. They're sturdy, that's for sure, and ordinarily Nai would've slashed a theoretical Achilles heel while he's crawling all over the floors like a weevil... if they had any. The gaps in their armour have nothing within to pierce, though, and the ice making up their constituent parts is a lot sturdier.
Sturdy enough to take a laser to the abdomen, anyway. If Wolfwood were closer, it might've been more effective.
There's still riff-raff in the back to dispatch beyond the five or six sturdier knights, he's noticing. They can likely take the larger ones out individually, but it'll require more coordination than what they currently have. Maybe...
Nai dodges a swing of a halberd and retaliates with, well, stabbing with his claws. There's no artful way to say it. The bigger knight who tried to hit him doesn't go down, expectedly, and he looks around the environment. The inner castle wall was cut by the laser blast.
He tries to make eye contact with Wolfwood from the mowed-down crowd, mid-dodge of another swing. If they can lure them further and bring the walls down on the bigger guys, it should be easier to take them out. Right? Please read his mind just this one time—]
no subject
And Wolfwood doesn't make mistakes. Not when it comes to this.
He draws the Punisher back after that second blast, the end of its gun barrel smoking, the metal within glowing red-hot. It's disappointing to see that the larger knights don't go down from his laser, but that's what Nai is for. But more frustrating than that...why are there still so many?!
The flow of knights seem endless. When one falls, five more take its place. It doesn't feel like they're covering any ground, or making much headway at all...he finds himself moving backwards, knowing that soon enough they're going to lose their advantage. They're already losing space to fight as it is, rapidly...at least without getting too close to...
...Wolfwood tenses briefly when he feels Nai's eyes lock with his. He wants to ask, what, until he realizes what it is Nai is doing. Nai is a lot of things, but what Wolfwood has never seen him do is retreat, and he's very much avoiding the Knights' swings in favor of getting their attention. Getting them to follow him, essentially, back towards...
He looks up, then grabs the dial in the center of the gun, turning it one more time. Nai's cue begins with the sound of the Punisher revving.]
no subject
It's for Vash. Vash,
who absolutely would not want this, y'all,his brother first and foremost, even despite their myriad disagreements and fights over the years. Vash, who neither he nor Wolfwood could save, despite the fact that something as simple as a hug had saved Nai earlier.This world will rue the day it ripped his twin out of his hands.
And so Nai carves a path backwards through this room, carefully eyeing that gouge in the wall. The outer walls may not break, but the inner wall where it was struck is melting away slowly. Without a second hit, it's likely to freeze again before it fully breaks. Which is why, when the cross-gun revs, Nai quickly accounts for multiple things: The trajectory of the beam, the specific way he has to dodge hits to get the larger knights at minimum in front of the wall, the path of escape. All of these are slotted into his mind, and when that blast finally goes off to crush everyone underneath the collapsing walls...
Nai ducks low and takes that path of escape as quickly as he can, using the slippery floors as a slide halfway through to hasten it before the ice crushes him, too.]
no subject
Somehow, some way, he and Nai are able to communicate their intent silently, and because of that, they work together to achieve a singularly common goal: blasting these motherfuckers into icy splinters. It's his last blast, and he makes sure to make it count as it razes through the ice hot enough to melt it, and while it doesn't destroy the wall on contact, it does fracture it enough to cause it to come tumbling down. It's heavy, it's solid ice...and the Knights that just so happen to be in its path do not stand a chance, even if they were somehow fast enough to dodge it.
Wolfwood lifts an arm to shield his eyes from the blast of icy air and mist that rushes off the debris as the ice crumbles between him and Nai, who he lost track of in the chaos. Since it was the Independent's idea to do this, though, he has to assume he got out of there alright. Not out of any concern for him, but because he knows that if Nai died right after Vash, he'd never be able to live it down, knowing he immediately let him down just moments after he breathed his last.
It's not all of them, but it's most of them, and with the Punisher hot to the touch and needing to cool before he can fire it again, he quite literally throws it down and takes to using Peacebringer exclusively for a bit, zeroing in on whatever's left for target practice.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)