oleaeuropaea (
oleaeuropaea) wrote in
sticksandbones2024-05-03 12:02 pm
Relent or Resist
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.]
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!
[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.]

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'cuz if it was, you'd tell us about it, not try to sweep it under the rug.
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Why can't you let me have this, Livio?
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to his credit, his voice and face both soften, and he holds his hands out, palms up in a pleading motion. can't vash see he isn't pursuing this to hurt him, but to protect others?]
Because you could end up like Elsword. Now, we all know he didn't mean what happened, and we don't blame him. But Vash, it still happened.
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You think I'm a threat.
[It's... probably the worst thing Liv could have said to him, simply because it's exactly what Vash has been thinking the entire time.]
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To a degree, yeah. But so am I. I'm not tryin' to condemn you. Just sayin' we shouldn't pretend like it ain't an issue.
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You should go then. I wouldn't want you to put yourself in danger.
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Vash, hon, I know it's hard to hear. But I'm not attacking you. I'm not afraid of you.
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[His arms cross over himself, fingers pressing into his ribs at first, only to shy back as the nails cut into vulnerable skin.]
I don't know what to do, Liv.
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Somethin' inside of me wants to hurt him, too, and he still wants me around. So, for starters, y'need to not run away. Y'need to talk to him about it.
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I don't know where to start. [He lowers himself onto the ground, so that he can hold himself at the knees. The smaller he makes his body, the less the void in his chest seems to ache.] He was angry that I left. If he finds out about this... it'll just bring it all back up.
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he sits down as well. not too close to vash, in case he needs space, but not so far as to imply livio fears him.]
He's more resilient and more forgiving than y'give 'im credit for, hon.
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Maybe. [A shrug.] If... I say I'll try, can that be enough?
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Wouldn't be fair to ask more'n that of you.
[his thumb traces little circles over the back of vash's hand as he mulls over his previous admission.]
Can I tell you what I meant, before? It's a lot, so if you're not up for it, that's okay.
no subject
Nevertheless, after a few seconds:]
Yeah. If you're sure you're comfortable.
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[it's... hard, to talk about this, in general, but also specifically while he's touching vash. merely thinking about it makes livio want to curl up and disappear, and human contact, or something akin to it, is grounding in quite an unpleasant way.
but vash is making an effort despite his discomfort, so livio will, too. even if he may keep his gaze glued to the ground in front of him, and his voice takes on the flat, formal tone he'd had when he arrived in the grove.]
There's... another me. Razlo. He was... We were trained by the same Master as Nick, and Razlo hates that Chapel always favored Nick.
[he takes a deep, shaky breath, facade cracking.]
I knew Nick would die after the Forest attacked because the same thing happened back home. He had to take two vials to keep up with Razlo, and it... overloaded his body.
... I thought I had a lid on Razlo after that, but... Nick saw him in that heart-place. Razlo still wants to hurt him, even if I don't. You see? I'm dangerous, too, but... for some reason, he cares enough to keep me around anyway.
no subject
[Give him just a second here. Mostly, he's envisioning the Livio he knew, trying to search for the similarities there. But where the man beside him is vibrant and full of life, the Livio Vash had first come across was hollow. It was hard to imagine one identity being in there, let alone two.
But if Livio expects the concept to ward him off, he'd be sorely mistaken. If anything, it only endears him further. To that end, his hand tightens against the larger man's, while his heart seems to lurch. It was hard to imagine anyone loving Wolfwood more than Vash, and yet he knew that Livio had him beat. Thus, he can only imagine the agony of feeling an intrinsic part of himself want to hurt him.]
Guess... we can have that in common now. Kind of. [His thumb smooths over the back of Livio's hand.] Can't imagine what either of you — Razlo and yourself — went through.
no subject
Razlo -- [is a monster, he wants to say, but the words die in his throat. forget razlo. razlo is the reason nick died.
but it isn't just his fault, livio has to admit to himself eventually. he may not be ready to do so in such clear words, not even in his own mind, but...
he shifts uncomfortably.]
... I think you're too kind, sometimes.
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[There is a hint of playfulness in his tone, but his face is still serious. He can't imagine that whatever Vash Livio happened to know would have been that different. If he was, then maybe it was a good thing that Vash hadn't come from that reality.]
There's nothing wrong with offering kindness to other people. I'm sure you of all people know that, but... Maybe you still need to hear it. Just like I do. You and I are similar like that, I think...
[The smile he forces is a sad one.]
We'd rather give heaps of kindness to others than an ounce to ourselves, right?
no subject
he doesn't want to argue vash's point. after all, he wants just as desperately for vash to believe that he has worth as vash wants for him. unfortunately, he can't quite help it, as prone to despair as he still is. his shoulders slump and he turns his head away from vash in shame.]
... Some of us don't deserve that kindness.
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[That won't do. Vash shifts himself, practically clambering into Livio's lap. He reaches out, holding his face. He tries not to think about how much longer and thinner his fingers have gotten, or how freakish he's become. He's supposed to be focusing on Livio right now, after all.]
I don't think that's true. And I definitely don't think it's true in your case.
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How well do you know me, really?
[at least he makes the effort to lay a hand gingerly on vash's waist, so that the plant doesn't feel scorned. livio's touch is just the same as it's always been, with no indication that he finds the new features frightening or repulsive.]
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[He keeps Livio's face held firm, making sure Livio has effectively no choice but to meet his eyes.]
I'm a good judge of character. I know a good person when I see them. And that's all I've ever felt around you. Maybe I don't know the details, where you came from or what you've done. But I can see you've decided to pick a better path to walk. And that's all I care about.
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I don't agree that just wanting to do better in the future makes me a good person, but... thanks.
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[And then Vash laughs.] But maybe I'm biased. Because I do think everyone has the capability to be a good person. And that includes you.
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his free hand lifts to cradle vash's cheek, in that happy medium of both supportive and gentle. he maintains their eye contact, his own gaze searching and sincere.]
And you, right, Vash?
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