Relent or Resist

[oleaeuropaea]

Who: Vash the Stampede and YOU
What: Something strange is happening to Vash
When: Mid April to Mid May
Where: Throughout the grove
Warnings: Transformation horror/trauma. Finger/nail trauma in prompt 2, please be mindful!
i. You're the Pulse in my Veins — Mid April

[It starts as aches in his joints. To him, it feels not unlike the growing pains in his early years. Aging rapidly over the course of several years was, in a word, painful. It leaves him wondering if this is just another phase of that plan. The only other Independent he knew, aside from his brother, had met an untimely end. Anything else he knew had come from strictly lived experience. Grappling with the strange bumps and curves along the way had just become second nature.

Hence why, at first, he thinks nothing of it.

For his loved ones, the changes likely aren’t noticeable at first. His ankles have always shown a little in his pants, after all — though now he’s coming scandalously close to showing a little calf. He’s also always looked lanky, even if it’s not quite the case. So if his waist seems just that little bit narrower, who’s to say? Plus, he’s always changing out outfits now. The boots he’s wearing probably just gave him that extra few centimeters.

For others, ones that don’t see him every single day, the changes might be more obvious. He looks taller, more willowy. And as he bends over in the middle of town to rub at an aching knee, you might just catch the way his ears have grown just the faintest bit pointier.

Of course, if caught staring, Vash might just wave with a bright smile. Did his teeth always look so sharp?]

Is something wrong? Have I got something on my face?

ii. You're the War that I Wage — End of April, CW: FINGER/NAIL TRAUMA



[Vash is sitting in the Inn, eating breakfast when there’s a tink upon the table. There’s no warning, nor is there any pain. When he looks down, blood drips gradually onto the table, circling where the nail of his middle finger has fallen off.]

Uh - that’s new. [He laughs, a fluttering noise that sounds only a little nervous at the edges. He stands quickly, aiming for the paper towels. The less mess he makes in a public area, the better, right?

Unfortunately, by the time he reaches them, the ring and index fingers have suffered similar injuries. It leaves him a hell of a sight, right hand now streaked with blood, as he tries to frantically wrap his hand and clean up the mess.]

Bad time for the doctor to be gone! Way to go, body!




iii. Can you change me? — Beginning of May

[By the time the middle of the month rolls around, Vash looks altogether different. The height has become more obvious. The nails on his hand have been replaced with sharp claws. And yet somehow, someway, Vash just keeps smiling. Those that know him know just how false the grin is — it’s too wide, showing off sharpened teeth — and it never reaches those now alien looking eyes.

The changes aren’t just physical, either. With the shifts in his vision, the world has begun to look a lot different. It leaves him stumbling into doorways, or tripping over otherwise obvious objects. Every time, he’ll look up with a sheepish smile and wave off any concerns, even as he sits with his face in the grass or wipes away the blood from a busted nose.]

Oh, don’t go worryin’ about me! It’s all okay.

[He’ll probably try to walk away after that. And then promptly trip again.]

iv. From the Monster You’ve Made Me — Mid May

[Despite doing his best to bluster through whatever changes have begun to consume him, there comes a point where he simply can’t do so any longer. Namely, it happens one day when he’s working on Ourania’s statue. He strips off his jacket, aiming to lay it carefully over the Moon Goddess’s lap. Unfortunately, with his altered depth perception, he’s been dropping things more often than not lately, and it winds up splayed out against the ground.

No matter. It’s simple enough to bend down and pick it up, right?

Unfortunately, as he does so, a horrific tearing sensation rips itself along not one, but both shoulderblades. The bulge of fabric will become immediately obvious as something begins to wrench itself out from beneath his skin. And taken by surprise as he is, Vash can only scream as the pain erupts through him.

He collapses in that instant, crumbling to his knees as the waves of pain radiate through him. With each agonizing inch, fresh nerves seem to tear and come alight. He tries to reach back and rip at whatever seems to be attacking him, because surely that’s what it is, but to no avail.

He’ll have to wallow in the dirt on his face until someone comes to help, it would seem.]

Comments

i

[sesa]

Ah, Vash. It's good to see yo-

[...Sesa blinks as Vash stands back upright to his full height, which is now- incidentally- taller than Sesa. Whether or not he's taller than the tallest part of his horns is up for debate, he just knows that his resting height is such that he has to look up a little at Vash, which certainly wasn't the case before.

And his teeth. They're pointed and sharp, just like his own.]

No, it just...you seem like you've. Grown, since we last spoke? Does your kind grow at a rapid pace?

[oleaeuropaea]

Grown? [He looks down at himself, brows pinching. There is just the faintest bit of breeze on his calves now. His pants no longer cover his long socks, but he figured it was just his clothes shrinking. Maybe Ydalir accidentally magicked the laundry or something.]

Naw, that can't be right! I haven't grown for at least a century and a half. [He pats his own arm. But now that Sesa's saying something, Vash is keenly aware of the difference. He had never been able to look down on the man before.]

You sure you didn't shrink?

[sesa]

I'm fairly certain I haven't, no. I may not be centuries old, but I stopped growing a long time ago!

[He's a big boy now.]

Hm...do you have different shoes, in that case? With taller soles, perhaps?

[oleaeuropaea]

[There's a bright chirp of laughter! Maybe if Sesa isn't paying too close attention, it'll sound real. Like he isn't nervous as all hell right now.]

Oh, that must be it! I'm breaking in a new pair of shoes, see!

[The boots are new, and there is a bit of a heel but... Not enough to justify the change, most likely.]

[sesa]

[Vash is damn lucky that Sesa is the way he is, otherwise he might have caught on straight away. He's a lot more clued in to peoples' emotions than most might give him credit for, but still...Vash is a master at covering his tracks, so it's more difficult when he seems so positive all the time.]

New shoes, hm? I see...

[Does he? Does he though.]

What of your teeth, then? I wouldn't think your shoes would have anything to do with that.

[oleaeuropaea]

Teeth? [Vash... can't exactly look at those, even if he tries. He goes briefly cross-eyed, squinting hard, before ultimately giving up. Instead, a simple shrug is offered up.]

I don't know what you're talking about! I've always, uh. Looked like this! It's normal for people like me. [It's really not. And it definitely hasn't always been the case.]

You worry too much, Sesa! It's sweet, but don't get so worked up!

[sesa]

[Vash honey you have a tongue, just feel them with your tongue-]

I'm not. I am perfectly calm.

[He blinks, slowly. If anything Vash is the one getting worked up, hmmmm.]

I suppose I could just be misremembering...? But I could have sworn...

From the Monster You've Made Me

[lupusxylem]

[Whether the others are being polite, and not directly pointing out Vash's weird changes and behaviors, or asking him about it directly, Wolfwood has sure as hell noticed them all. It's hard not to when you live with the guy, and see him every morning and night. The changes are subtle enough so as not to seem all that serious, but Wolfwood knows better. It's likely he's brought it up to Vash by now, asked him how he's feeling and whatnot, only for it all to be brushed off that "he's fine". "It's okay", when it very clearly isn't.

He's seen the corruption first hand, and what it does to people. He's damn lucky himself to have avoided it in his confrontation with Elsword, and some days he wonders if being killed meant that he stemmed the first of what could have potentially been an actual spread. It's hard to say, given that he doesn't have all of the details of what transpired while Vash was in the woods while he was gone. Just that there's someone out there...someone corrupted that he encountered.

By now, Wolfwood has spent the better half of the start of the month practicing with the new prosthetic limb that Gnosis built for him. It's advanced far beyond anything he could have hoped for since it had been based on Vash's arm, meaning that it functions more-or-less the same as his leg had before, just with the hurdles of having to grow accustomed to the phantom pain, the concept that his limb isn't there any longer. It's rough going at first, and initially he doesn't even try to walk without his crutches. It's gotten better over time though, and by now he's limping without them. He's even been able to wear his shoes properly again, the only indication he's even missing his leg being the glinting blueish metal that shows where his bare ankle would be.

It's probably a good thing he's out walking on it today, otherwise he may not have made it out fast enough the moment he caught the sound of Vash's screaming in the distance.]

Blondie! The fuck- where are you-?!

[He's got his hand hovering near his gun until he finally happens to come to the courtyard, finding Vash sprawled in an agonized heap near the statues there. Though his guard doesn't drop, his search for danger is immediately abandoned as he rushes to Vash's side, reaching for his shoulder as he comes down on his good knee beside him.]

Hey- hey, what's wrong-??

[oleaeuropaea]

[Since Wolfwood is reaching for his shoulder, he'll undoubtedly see the way Vash's thermal has begun to bulge outward. Though it's hard to see through the fabric in its current state, something is attempting to puncture through. The same can be said on the opposite side, though it seemed to be struggling substantially more.

Of course, he would have only a few seconds to truly take this in. The moment he makes contact, Vash violently twists away. The whole upper half of his torso feels like it's been set alight. Even additional contact, gentle or not, was too much to bear.

It's hard to say if Vash even notices who's beside him. His eyes go from being squeezed shut to open and darting around wildly. His fingers continue to desperately claw at whatever feels like it's attacking him, pulling at the fabric of his thermal as if it might somehow dislodge the assailant.]

[lupusxylem]

[He's seen Vash in pain before. He's seen him take awful looking falls and be pummeled or shot, but he's never shown agony of this caliber. It's...actually scary, as much as Wolfwood is loathe to admit it.

What is he supposed to do? How can he help? These are all questions he doesn't have the answers to, and there's no time for him to go find somebody who can help.

The way he jerks away from him prompts Wolfwood to draw back, watching as the Independent struggles as if trying to pull off his thermal. And he can see now, of course, that it's bulging.

Unnaturally.]

...a'ight, you're gonna have to forgive me later.

[Because he's reaching for the bottom of Vash's thermal to try to pull it off of him, to get a better look at what's happening underneath. He won't rip it unless absolutely necessary, but...that may not matter, shortly.]

[oleaeuropaea]

[At first Vash flinches away, the sudden motion and feeling of fabric rubbing against already irritated places an extremely unpleasant one. The backward motion benefits them both, as it gets him out of the thermal that much quicker. The cold air helps as well, caressing over agonized skin. He collapses under the short-lived reprieve, and swiftly finds that he doesn't have the energy to push himself back up.

Likely, though, Wolfwood will not benefit from similar relief. Unlike Vash, he has a clear view of what's happening to him. Twin gashes have opened themselves up against Vash's back, and from them slips something both delicate and gruesome. Through some of the gore, Wolfwood might be able to make out the thin membrane of wings, perhaps even flashes of iridescence. Maybe it'd look pretty, if not for the fact that it's coming out of Vash's back.

For better or for worse, the process is hastened now that the wings are being held back by fabric. Vash whimpers as the wings press out all the further, expanding to a length not much longer than the span of Vash's arm. Now free, they flop wetly against Vash's back, twitching in the slightest as they try to dry themselves.

Limply from his prone position on the ground, Vash reaches up as if to swat at it. His hand goes wide and lands just as uselessly on the ground as the entity he'd tried to assault.]

[lupusxylem]

[Well, getting the thermal off is at least helpful in the respect of giving Vash some relief from the strain. Everything else, though? Awful. Terrible. Wolfwood wants a refund on today jesus CHRIST

He actually falls back with alarm at the sight he's presented with, landing heavily on his ass as he watches Vash's back open up in front of him. Wolfwood is no stranger to blood and gore, particularly gnarly stuff involving not just people, but the bugs that exist on their home planet. But somehow, seeing it come from Vash is particularly nauseating. He's left dumbfounded as he watches a pair of wings unfurl from the gashes, bloody and messy and terrible, clearly insectoid in appearance despite the fact they haven't yet dried.

What do you even say? He can't just leave Vash here, but he knows good and well he wouldn't be able to lift him and drag him back home in his current state, not when he's still getting used to his leg. So...he opts to make the decision to stay on the ground where he is, not wanting to touch him again right now for fear of making it worse, but also unwilling to leave him like this alone.]

Shit...shit.

[His bedside manner is terrible though, sorry for the speculation there Vash-]

Just...just don't move, okay? Don't try to touch anythin'. I'll let you know when it's stopped.

[When what's stopped you can't just say it like that]

[oleaeuropaea]

[Maybe it's a good thing that Vash is in no state to ask questions. It's hard to say if he even hears what Wolfwood says. It's a bit like a dog — he hears the words but he doesn't know what they mean. All that matters is the gravel of his voice, familiar even if it sounds upset. He isn't alone, and that's far better than he was just a few minutes ago.

For awhile, all that Wolfwood is presented with is the faint sounds of ripping skin and the much louder clamor of Vash's frantic breaths. He hurts, no doubt about it. But even then, the tearing steadily begins to abate, and the pain begins to fade. It's not gone by any stretch, but the agony settles into a dull ache.

He doesn't move. Not until minutes bleed into what feels close to an hour. He twitches every now and again, as if considering the option, but fresh waves of pain remind him that whatever's happened, it's still fresh. In that time, the strange wings fold themselves outward, stretching out to take in the sun and begin to dry.

Somewhere in that process, Vash finally seems to become aware of something having changed. His brows pinch together, and while the rest of his body doesn't move, his head lifts. He looks to Wolfwood, wherever he's wound up.]

Nick?

[The questions linger in the tone of his voice. What happened? How bad is it? Are you okay?]

ii

[purevanillacookie]

What about a healer, my friend?

[ Vash wasn't the only one who had come to the Inn to grab food, though Pure Vanilla was there for ingredients more than an actual meal. He had been aware of the other there, but content to let the man eat in peace. Uh, until this.

What on Earthbread is going on here?

He holds one hand out for Vash's, looking a little bewildered to the fact Vash is just dropping fingernails like their pinecones on a windy day. ]

slaps an extended cw for nail stuff on here.

[oleaeuropaea]

[The moment he hears another voice, Vash's first instinct is to hide his hand behind his back. He winds up looking like a child hiding a broken toy more than anything, with a sheepish look on his face to match. It's a scene that hardly matches the gore currently spreading across the kitchen.]

O-oh, you know! Slammed my finger in a cabinet! That's all.

[He doesn't extend his hand just yet. The last thing he wants is to draw more attention to the way his body seems to be waging war against him. People are going to worry, and they already have so much on their minds. Especially Pure Vanilla.]

If you give me just a few minutes I'll get everything cleaned up in here! Promise!

sir yer fingies just falling off

[purevanillacookie]

[ The defiance is funny and Pure Vanilla, feeling better now that Clotted Cream is home again, quirks his eyebrow up in an amused gesture. He makes a point of tilting his head in a manner that makes it look like he's "looking" around at the blood Vash is leaving behind.

Like little guilty trails that say "it's worse than a slammed finger!" ]

Vash [ -the Stampede. Scolded. ] Let me see? Do not worry about the mess. Injuy first.

listen! the fingies are still there! probably!

[oleaeuropaea]

It's not an injury! Really!

[He just... doesn't know what to describe it as. There'd been nothing to precede it. If he could blame it on slamming his hand somewhere or jamming his thumb into something, that would be one thing. He's had enough injuries over the years to not let them phase him.

But this came from nowhere. And given everything else that had been happening - ]

It's nothing. [Is he saying it for his own benefit? Or Pure Vanilla's? Hard to say. At least he isn't still trying to clean up his mess at this point. He just stands there, hand cupped within a wad of paper towels.

Perhaps if he moved them, it would be back to normal? Just some trickery from the Forest.

His hand doesn't budge an inch.]

(x)

[purevanillacookie]

[ Well, if Vash won't let him see it, far be it from Pure Vanilla to continue to push. Instead he hums softly and steps closer, reaching out before pausing, hand stretched. ]

Pardon me, I am merely going to touch your cheek.

[ Which he does. He needs to touch skin for small injuries. Just a brush of his fingertips lightly across the curve of his cheek bone. Vash will feel tingles in his fingers (and quite possibly anywhere else if he's injured) - a soft rush of warmth that spreads and encases the nail beds, easing away any possible pain and gentle knitting the flesh together to stop the bleeding. ]

Allow me to help you clean up, then?

[ He doesn't really give Vash an option on that one, smiling sweetly at him and putting his staff off to the side to begin looking around for more paper towels. ]

[oleaeuropaea]

[Vash doesn't even have time to flinch backward before it's said and done. He feels the tingles sure enough, but doesn't bother to look. For all he knows, it's something worse rearing its ugly head, and he really doesn't want to juggle that while also trying to figure out how to dissuade Pure Vanilla.]

It's really not that big of a deal, you know.

[Vash follows after him, bending under a cabinet or two in order to find proper cleaning supplies. A pair of gloves are found at least, which he gratefully plucks up. The paper towel is carefully peeled away, and his hand shoved into the latex, all without looking. The longer he avoids the sight, the better.]

You could just keep me company while I work?

iii

[livlaughlove]

[after the long nightmare that was march, livio doesn't blame vash for pretending everything is back to normal. (as "normal" as things can be, anyway.) in fact, he feels the same -- desperately wants to pretend that things are okay. but vash's... state has gotten to a point where ignoring it not only is impossible, but could also be dangerous. for vash, and everyone else in the grove.

livio follows after vash trips over his own spindly limbs in the grass a second time. offers his hand a second time, whether or not vash took it previously or takes it now, regardless of the very obvious claws that have grown in. he doesn't bother hiding the deep worry lines on his face, but he keeps his voice soft and level.]

Vash. We gotta talk about this.

[oleaeuropaea]

[It isn't a surprise that someone sees through his act. Vash hasn't exactly been subtle about any of it, even if he's wanted to be. Tripping and stumbling about as he had been had become unavoidable, and covering it up wasn't exactly viable either. Even still, he's desperate to save face, cling to some sort of normalcy.

And hell, can you really blame him? With Livio's prying will come worry. It's the last thing Vash wants. He'd been through enough the last month and a half. Now that Nick was able to move around again, they could at least pretend to be back to normal.]

Talk about... what? [He tries to fake a smile. It's less convincing than ever.] C'mon, I've always been clumsy!

[livlaughlove]

[for a time, he just stares into vash's eyes, hand still extended in offering. his unblinking gaze is uncannily steady, but there's no judgment in it. in fact, he's mulling over how to approach this with the least amount of distress to vash.]

We can go inside, if privacy'd make you more comfortable.

[oleaeuropaea]

[Thankfully, Vash at least reaches out to take his hand. Yet even still, his head cants to the side in seeming confusion.]

Since when is my clumsiness a private matter?

[Despite his act, though, there's a note to Vash's voice. It's not one of irritation, but of desperation. If they start peeling away at his facade, then what is there for him to hide behind? He doesn't want to face the reality. He doesn't want to upset Livio and Nick further.

Why can't he see that Vash is trying to protect him.]

[livlaughlove]

[he's over here trying to be nice, and vash is being Like This. okay, fine. liv will make it less subtle, much faster.]

You got fangs, Vash. Claws. Flyin' worm eyes.

[despite the bluntness of the words, his tone is level. the same can't be said for his furrowed brows, though.]

And you're taller. Used to come up to my shoulders. Now you're at my chin.

[oleaeuropaea]

[He tries his damnedest to smile through it, but the reminder of his teeth kills the attempt before it gets any further. He tries to fiddle with his fingers to keep himself distracted but, no. The claws are yet another reminder of what's happening. Every lie, every excuse, every attempt he makes to dodge Livio's accusation is cut off at the pass.]

How do you know it isn't some freaky Plant thing, huh? [His voice is softer, less fight in his words now. He glances down at the dirt for a second, then squeezes his eyes shut. If he hides his hands and keeps his mouth shut, maybe then Livio will think him normal.]