#Vash learns more about what life is like on Earth

[chocoloom]

Might be an unpopular opinion, but I need more crossover fanfictions in my life man there like. My favorite kinda of fic.

I like seeing characters getting thrust into wildly different situations and conflicts than what they’re used to. I like seeing characters react and compare differences between the world they’re from and the world they’re in. I like seeing characters with similar struggles getting to interact when they wouldn’t otherwise because they’re from two different worlds. I like seeing characters from different media clash with each other because they have differing perspectives on something, or seeing characters from different media learn from each other by interacting. I just feel like we need more of those, for funsies y’know?

For example, what if Edward Elric ended up in Dungeon Meshi. How would he react upon witnessing or discovering Falin’s resurrection and finding out that it worked. Other than absolute anger (which is a given with Ed’s temper), would he be jealous, just a bit, because Marceille succeeded in bringing back the one she loved? Why did she succeed while he and his brother failed and said failure has horrifically impacted their lives? How would learning about a SUCCESSFUL resurrection impact the actions he takes in the future? Would he relate to Laios, as both of them are dedicated older siblings who feel responsible for their younger siblings? Especially considering both of them feel directly responsible for their siblings becoming horrifically altered due to their actions. How does he interact with Senshi? Do they bond over similar views on seeing humans as small, but vital parts of the world’s ecosystem? I bet Senshi would love Ed’s appetite, what with him having a bottomless pit of a stomach (due to human transmutation shenanigans).

I dunno, I feel like there’s a lot of untapped potential in crossovers, both in terms of angst and in terms of just, general chaos and comedy. Like, imagine Sailor Moon in one of the Souls games like Elden Ring. Or putting Kirby in Disco Elysium? Can you imagine the insanity?! Cuz I can, it’s hilarious.

[meguwumibear]

A Night Out Dancing

Tomorrow your party will reach JuLai. Tonight Wolfwood wants to dance.

thank you @/firein-thesky for commissioning this piece for the @ficsforgaza collaboration

The sky above No Man’s Land is inky and starless. The air stale and still. Despite the hour, the world around you is oppressively warm and dry. Nights in the desert are usually bitterly cold. You’re not sure what’s gotten into the weather today.

Vash at least doesn’t seem plagued by strange temperature, but then Vash can sleep through anything, including Meryl’s jerky driving, so the comparison isn’t fair. Meryl’s fast asleep too, tucked neatly into the driver’s seat. You watch her toss and turn for a while, wondering what she dreams of. Someplace nice, hopefully. Somewhere lush and flourishing and green.

Even Roberto seems to have found sleep, albeit at the bottom of a bottle. He’s snoring gently in the passenger seat, mouth wide open, empty liquor bottle still clutched tightly in his hands.

Seems everyone’s immune to the hot desert night but you.

There’s a chance it isn’t the heat keeping you up. It’s possible you’re making excuses, blaming the external world around you for your insomnia so you don’t have to turn inward, so you don’t have to confront your building anxieties about what the future holds for your little traveling party. It’s going to crack and splinter apart, isn’t it? Like that land mass you once read about in a book that spoke of some far away planet called Earth. Pangaea. A supercontinent forced apart by shifting tectonic plates.

Tomorrow, you’ll reach JuLai, and everyone will drift away from you. You’ll spend the rest of your life trying to remember what it felt like to be whole.

Fuck it. If you’re not gonna get some shut eye, you may as well make yourself useful.

Wolfwood is perched on a sand dune, resting against his cross shaped gun, lit cigarette in hand, nearly burnt down to the filter. He takes one final drag of it as he sees you approach, then snubs the thing out in the sand.

“I’ll take over the watch,” you tell him, eyes drawn to the little ‘o’ shape his mouth makes as he lazily releases the final dregs of smoke.

“Not your turn yet, sweetheart,” he replies. “Go back to sleep.”

If only you could.

“Haven’t been able to. Too much shit on my mind. No sense in my staring at the back of my eyelids when I could be doing this instead.”

Wolfwood stares at you through tinted shades he hasn’t bothered to remove despite the darkness of the night. The glasses are a part of his costume, of his carefully crafted mask that even after months of travelling together he’s still hiding behind. He told you he’s an undertaker, but he dresses like a priest. On a runaway Sandsteamer, you learn he is an orphan. You’ve learned nothing since.

“You should take better care of yourself,” he says, as if caring for yourself is easy.

“You’re one to talk,” you reply, eyes giving him a quick once over. It’s been a few days since you’ve spent the night somewhere with a working bathroom. Without a mirror or razor, the stubble on his chin has grown more and more pronounced. The hairs suit him, you think. Your fingers itch to run along his jaw.

“You’re staring,” he observes, mouth crooking into a smug grin because the undertaker or priest or whatever the fuck he is knows how handsome he is.

“Am I?”

Wolfwood stands slowly, brushing beads of sand off him as he does so. You try to keep your eyes on his face, on the slope of his nose, the dimples on his cheeks, but they wander anyway, along his broad shoulders, down his tiny waist. You’ll miss him when this is over, you decide.

“Wanna dance?” he asks suddenly. The question throws you off kilter. How long has it been since you’ve done something so mundane? Will you even remember how? Is it appropriate to dance given what tomorrow may bring?

“What about-”

“Needle-noggin and the lot are out like a light. No one will notice if we steal a few minutes for ourselves.”

He closes the gap between the two of you and links his right hand with yours, fingers interlocking. His hands are large and calloused from lugging around that heavy gun of his. Briefly, you wonder just how strong the guy really is.

 “But there isn’t any music,” you protest weakly. Wolfwood is frustratingly good at sapping away your resolve.

“Don’t need any. We’ll make our own,” he insists, slipping an arm around the small of your back and pressing you close, closer, and closer still.

This close to him, you can see deep into his eyes. There’s fear in them. Sadness too. He’s trying and failing to mask the emotions with a smile, with this dance. It must be so exhausting, you think, always having to pretend.

“One dance,” you surrender, relaxing into his embrace. He smells sharply of tobacco and nicotine, though you note hints of something a bit earthier underneath. Sweat, probably. It’s been a while since any of you have showered. “Then bed. Unlike you and Vash, some of us need our beauty sleep.”

A lopsided grin swims across his handsome face.

 “Aw, think I’m beautiful, sweetheart? That’s nice.”

There’s a biting remark on the tip of your tongue that never fully forms. Yeah, actually, you do think he’s beautiful. You’ve thought so ever since Meryl slammed the news van into him all those months ago. The impact should have killed him—it would’ve killed you—but Wolfwood simply rose up from the sand as if rising from an interrupted slumber. Beautiful, even with rivulets of blood trickling down his face.

“Shut up,” you hiss, cheeks heating as you think a bit too intensely about his sturdy body which is now pressed flush against your own. Has Wolfwood always been this tall? This large? His giant frame engulfs you as the two of you sway together, in tandem with Wolfwood’s quiet humming.

You rest your head against his sternum, listening to the sound of his heart beating quick and urgent like the wings of a bird. His chest vibrates as he hums his tune. You can’t seem to place the song. Likely, he’s making it up as he goes, the tempo slow and somber like a dirge.

“Where’d you learn to dance?” you ask him, conscious of the way your two left feet have nearly tripped him up twice. Lucky for you both he’s not just a hulking lump of muscle. He’s got a great center of balance too.

You chalk your awkwardness up to the loose, shifting sands and not to the odd sensation forming in the pit of your stomach. More unfamiliar than unpleasant. You swallow a few times in an attempt to settle it.

Wolfwood shrugs, spinning the two of you round and round in circles. “It’s not all that different than fighting.”

There’s truth to that, you suppose, remembering the fight on the Sandsteamer. Wolfwood refused to talk about the stranger you all watched disappear into the open maw of the sand ocean, but it was obvious the man once meant something to him.

“You’re thinking too much,” he says. “Just follow my lead.”

So you do. You let him whirl you around the desert dunes for what feels like hours, grinning up at him through thick lashes when you manage to step on his toes. Again. He laughs, a little too loudly, and you have to remind him that if he’s not careful he’ll wake your sleeping companions.

“What are you going to do if everything goes well tomorrow?”

For the first time all night, it’s Wolfwood who stumbles. The misstep is small, slight, if you weren’t so entangled, you may have missed it, but you are entangled so you feel everything. You feel his feet stall as the question leaves your lips. You feel the rise and fall of his belly as he takes a deep steadying breath.   

His hand travels up the length of your spine, coming to rest at the nape of your neck. He thumbs across your vertebrae and you recognize the ministration for what it is: a silent plea for you to let the topic drop and just enjoy this moment the two of you managed to carve out for yourselves amidst all the chaos of the world.

You let your head drop once more, tucking it beneath his collarbone, right above his heart, still rabbiting in his chest. He isn’t humming anymore. There’s nothing to help the two of you keep time as you continue to sway together, now gliding across the sand like worms.

Around you, the clouds begin to clear and bright, twinkling stars start to peek out from behind them. A soft breeze kicks up around you, and the sand particles scatter with it. Wolfwood—Nicholas—keeps you pressed against him as the temperature mercifully begins to drop.

Your mind still wanders from time to time, curious what tomorrow may bring.

Who cares, you decide. It doesn’t matter.

Tonight, you’re content to dance.

[lost-technology]

Weird-Ass Trigun Dreams

I have them, yes. So, this morning, I woke up from dreams I was having about finding an entire alternate Trigun manga in a bookstore. The strangest thing about it was that it wasn't created by Nightow, it was more like an official fanwork created by some other mangaka and ran parallel to the Trigun Maximum timeline as an alternate universe. I distinctly remember pages involving Vash drawn as an anthropomorphic cat. - So, something like a Trigun / Lackadaisy crossover? It was somewhat in that style. Vash was a very fluffy tabby-type, by the way... a floofy orange cat, but the image was in black and white, I just could tell the type of cat he was supposed to be. And then I had another dream about Vash and Knives in modern times and they were getting into some kind of trouble in a suburb tearing ass in a minivan down a street with Vash on top of it with a baseball bat trying to evade cops or something. And then there is another dream that I recall that happened at some other time involving an entire alternate anime and manga that had continued somehow - in my dream, Nightow had revived the manga at some point after its official ending and I had been OUT OF THE LOOP on fandom for so long that I had years of backlore that I'd MISSED! Gasp! And there was all this funky Plant-lore (although I can't remember exactly what it was, something about origins, I think) and stuff about Vash's early life, wandering days. I picked up a tape? DVD? of this new anime predating Stampede and done in the old Trigun style and the first episode featured Vash saving a town and getting hurt and being cared for by a lady and feeling guilty and depressed about things he couldn't talk about and that she pried about, and it was very sad as he had to leave town after taking care of the bandits that were threatening it and couldn't stay lest he put the town and the friend he'd made in danger. There was a real feeling of he'd finally made a close friend, but couldn't risk it. And in the alternate manga, there was an entire arc about the SEEDS upbringing in which Vash and Knives, prior to learning about Tesla, learned what Plants really were and their origins and Knives was afraid because of how humans use Plants, so he hijacked a shuttle and went to a different planet (than the one we see) and it was kind of gaseous, like there was a surface to stand on, but everything was gassy and Rem and Vash had to go get him back and deal with some reconciliation regarding the Plant and Human relationship. I think this stuff also had some Plant-lore, too, like some alien origins of Plants, but I am not certain. I just remember there being an uneasy feeling to this whole arc. I seem to recall some pretty cool spacesuits and helmets involved, though. And then @somereaderinblue reminded me of one I'd shared with them that I'd forgotten about that I now remember: I dreamed that there was a Trigun anime - a new one, that was different from Stampede that was set on a world that became like Earth. Independent Plants were born later. The Plant kids were still Plants. Rem had managed to save Tesla and was raising her along with the boys. They'd made planet-landing and terraforming and city-building was underway. A better planet, a better future. About when the kids were 12-14, Tesla was called away by Conrad to do a few tests - which she thought were going to be just blood tests and stuff. The season of the show ended with her being shown to a suite she'd be staying in for a couple of days and a door sealing behind her. She realizes that it has been sealed and she can't get out. She says "Dr. Conrad? Dr. Conrad?!" We all knew what was coming. End of Season 1.

[trigunsbbygirl]

I loved your writing! And I just loved the Vash isekai reverse, could you make a do knives too? How would he react to staying on earth and also some headcanons

lol I said I was gonna draw, you know, like a liar. I saw this and my brain said I must write- but!! thank you!! I'm glad you liked the Vash one!!

I mention trimax but there's no spoilers since I've never read it, just thoughts and analysis from twt. and so! this is stampede Knives I'm talking about!

also talk about the last episode of tristamp so spoilers for that!

•Knives is really confused when he first arrives on earth. and when you first met him he kinda??? just goes along with your flow because he really has no idea about what's going on.

•you're worried about this man, he looks dazed and confused and you don't know if he's been drugged or had a stroke or something cause he's also asking where he is. you ask if he needs to go to the hospital or has anyone you can call, but then he asks what planet this is when you really take a look at him.

•and it hits you that oh, this man looks a lot like Million Knives. you had been so caught up in worry that you just glossed over his appearance.

•Knives is waiting for you to answer and he notices that you've all of the sudden gone timid in body language, voice nervous when you answer 'Earth,' then ask for his name.

•your, what you hoped was just a delusional theory, is confirmed when he answers that his name is indeed Millions Knives.

•he's kinda amused seeing your eyes widen in fear, but he's also curious, is there a version of him here? or did life somehow prevail on earth and his name is known? why do you act like you know of him?

•you stumble over answering that, how's he gonna react that people read/watch a story that involves him for entertainment?

•and so you just vaguely say, "well, there's this story and you're in it, but like, you don't actually exist in the real world.."

•Knives just raises an eyebrow at that. that just gave him more questions. and so, he demands that you show him what you mean, and sure enough, that's himself he's looking at on your phone.

•ngl I'm a little torn on how Knives ends up living with you? I suppose it would be him being like, "human, show me how this world works" or something like that, and you're like "uh? okay? but where are you gonna stay?" and he just responds, "you'll be housing me."

a bit of a crack way to put it, but yeah, he just forces himself into your house because there's no way he's living out on the streets, and well, he has no fucking idea where to go so.. congratulations! you've got a roomie!🎉 (also, if you live in the city, the noises are lowkey overstimulating him)

anyways

•angry little man doesn't know what to do at first. there's no plants like him, there's no Vash, so, he can't exactly chase after that utopia for plants..

•but he is pretty upset seeing the state of the world and how a lot of people aren't really doing much or just don't care.

•kinda still wants to do that whole, killing humans thing, but there's almost 8 billion people here, and a bunch of militia and weaponry, and he doesn't really wanna deal that. plus if they bring out the nukes on him, Knives thinks that would just cause way more harm so, he decides to just try and enjoy the world Rem talked so much about.

•although, if he sees someone litter, he has to hold back on his murder rage. Knives has learned that his actions have consequences here, and again, he doesn't wanna deal with that. but! he does throw the litter back at them and chews their ass out.

•going into learning, Knives forces you to take him to a library, and later on, teach him how to use your laptop. but after that, he kinda refuses to ask for help with learning about Earth. Knives does catch on and thread how everything works and entertwines pretty quick though.

•he finds natural disasters very fascinating, however it makes him wonder why humans continue to live in places with reoccurring disasters. well, he doesn't actually care, neither the answer, it just makes him think of how humans continued to live on Gunsmoke despite the harsh environment. no matter what planet humans are annoyingly stubborn he supposes.

•it takes Knives a long time to actually warm up to you, and even longer to start exploring hobbies.

•you had gotten Knives a keyboard piano once. it's not that big and it doesn't sound as good as he wishes it could, but considering your small house and that money is an important thing, he'll make do with it. Knives never did say thanks or show you any appreciation, but he does play it often.

•Knives might even start getting into composing music with more instruments later on too. he found the composing side of YouTube after watching a lot of orchestra videos and he kinda got interested in composing with more than just a piano.

•he again, demands you take him to the library and he reads a lot about music theory and how to write his own music before trying it himself. Knives actually gets really good it and you joke saying he should upload his stuff to YouTube and Spotify. he just brushes it off(he won't admit he's happy that you like his work.)

•Knives is really fucking good at mobile and arcade rythym games. he saw you playing on your phone once and he kept watching until you asked if he wanted to try. it took a while, but he got the hang of it pretty quickly. (you're a bit jealous of just how quickly he got it lol)

•he doesn't play them often, especially early on, even though he starts to enjoy playing. some of the songs like faster paced ones kinda overwhelm him or bothers his ears.

•I didn't put this on the 'things that confuse him post' but, Knives doesn't understand objects like figurines, plushies, charms, stuff like that. what purpose do they serve? when you answer that you just like the character and wanted to show support for the show/game, Knives still doesn't understand. he thinks it's a waste of money</3

•he especially won't understand spending money on gacha games. Knives will make you budget yourself if you aren't already. he thinks it's a bigger waste of money, especially if it's a gacha where you just pull for cards, you can just save them onto your phone no?

congratulations! you're free of gacha addiction!/j (do not show him how people have spent thousands on gachas or how some have sent death threats over pulls)

•Knives keeps your house spotless. he refuses to live in a dirty house. but he won't do the dishes, your laundry or clean the toilet. those are your responsibilities and Knives makes you do them daily and weekly respectfully.

•I feel like, overtime once you two are together, Knives gets into cooking. now he doesn't really eat much, but he does enjoy the process (and he wants to make sure you're eating good)

•he forces you to hike with him or go to the park every week. he loves being out in nature and observing everything. sometimes when Knives comes across certain plants or animals, he'll make a little comment or bring up a fact he read about.

•loves when it rains, he finds it really soothing

•Knives tried to read trimax once, he got curious one day, but he couldn't finish it. it sent him into a panic attack. likewise, I don't think he could watch the last episode of tristamp, watching himself burn like that would freak him out a bit, whether he went through that or not yet.

•he gets into painting! it kinda started as him just sketching plants he finds in the wild to drawing landscapes. you gifted him paints one day he's been enjoying using them

•I think he'd like using gouache paint. he usually only draws close ups of plants and landscapes. Knives got a small kit and artbook, and he takes it with him when you two go out for your weekly walk.

•he has secretly drawn you once, but you didn't hear that from me-

[annaofaza]

Inspired by this funny post about exactly what Knives would have done with multiple Plant babies had his plan succeeded. Warning: this fic is considerably less funny.

After everything, Wolfwood finds himself defaulted to child-minder.

This wildly amuses Zazie—who pops in and out of Eden with their swarm—and pleases Legato, who seems to think Wolfwood's bought the company line after seeing "the glory of Master Knives' power." He doesn't know if the news has gotten back to the Eye of Michael, whether the lucky few laugh behind their hands at the thought of the Punisher essentially being a babysitter, but Wolfwood doesn't give a damn what anyone thinks.

Less blood on his hands, he'd mused one night. You've always wanted me to stop killing, tongari; it only took... His tongue then crept into his throat, and he trained himself to never think of it again.

There's no denying that Knives isn't exactly happy about a human being around the "chosen," but there's no denying he didn't plan anything long-term for multiple Plant children, and Wolfwood—the faithful, compliant Punisher who made the miracle possible with his betrayal—can be entrusted, or at the very least, bent to his will. After all, his contract with the Eye may be over, but he doesn't trust Knives to trot out the old threat about the orphanage.

And when it comes down to it, the kids are better off with as little interaction with Knives—and Conrad and Elendira and Legato and the Eye—as much as possible. Maybe, Wolfwood thinks, he can spare at least one life if they’re around him enough, that they learn that all humans aren't monsters.

Despite the circumstances of their birth, he knows Vash, if he were here, would have treated them kindly, and really, it isn’t in Wolfwood to act otherwise; some kids back in Hopeland had similar terrible beginnings, and God knows it wasn't their fault.

But he takes one day at a time, playing tag in green grassy fields that are almost a pleasure to fall on, cajoling them to eat another bite of the terrible nutritious slop Conrad cooks up for them, retelling the same bedtime tales Miss Melanie used to recite to the younger ones. Even when they howl like kestrels (with Castor slicing up several packs of cigarettes), when Elendira waltzes in to pinch and prod and taunt (Orion can’t speak for days afterwards and Capella still won’t go near any humans besides Wolfwood), when he’s so tired that he can’t slip his shoes on (sometimes he barely manages to button his shirt), Wolfwood makes it work.

Add the fact that half of the Plant bunch didn't seem to have powers, and while that didn't guarantee them a short life being poked and prodded in Conrad's lab—Wolfwood had heard a hissed exchange, something about a Tesla—Knives seems more detached from them all the same, despite his initial proclamation of "Look at Vash. We thought the same of him. Leave them be, and they might turn out useful."

It had taken all of Wolfwood's strength that day not to punch him.

He tries not to think beyond that. 

The kids are growing fast, though. He fears what will happen when Knives takes an active interest in them, but does the best he can, teaching letters and numbers and colors and bits of Earth history. They all resemble Knives—light-colored hair and marble-blue eyes—yet already have a startling variety of personalities. Izar, for instance, is sharp-tempered and prone to bursts of throwing the nearest objects at walls; Ursa and Adhara cling together all the time, but Regulus and Vega prefer to be on opposite sides of the room; Perseus is an utter clown, making his siblings burst into giggles every chance he gets; and Aster... out of everyone, Aster is most like Vash: protective, kind, and tender in a world that, especially now, takes advantage of stomping anything sweet out.

One day, Wolfwood’s perched underneath a tree, watching the kids play another round of hide-and-seek and occasionally glancing down at Pollux as he devours another anthology about flowers, when Aster plops right into his lap.

He smiles. “Don’t feel like joining them, Aster?”

“No,” Aster says, and yawns widely, showing off his baby teeth.

“What’s up, kiddo? Didn’t sleep last night?”

“Sort of...” Aster looks up at him, seeming to hesitate before saying, “Do you dream, Nico?”

Nico still reminds him of Livio, but Wolfwood never has the heart to correct them. “Sometimes,” he says, hoping Aster doesn’t ask of what. “Did you have one?”

Aster wrinkles his nose. “It was different than the others.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Like...” Aster prods his cheek with his tongue, thinking. “Castor said it was stupid.”

“Let me be the judge of that. What was it?” He hopes it’s not another nightmare about bugs; Zazie showing off the worms to the kids always gives at least one of them the creeps. Aquila still can’t look at an earthworm without bursting into tears.

“I thought I saw... I saw our Father,” Aster says, “but he was different. He had these strange clothes on, with... glasses on his face? Like yours, but they were orange. And round."

Wolfwood’s heart jolts in his chest. It takes all of his control not to leap up, to keep his smile steady, to ask calmly, “And?”

“I felt... safe. Like I do around you. He was in a room like this, but with these bundles of red flowers. Geraniums, like Pollux told us about the other day.” Aster tilts his head, watching Ursa and Regulus tackle each other, shrieking with laughter, as Castor complains that no one’s paying attention to the game at all. Aster shakes his head apologetically when Capella tries to wave him over. “And this word came to me, too, in the breeze. Vash?”

Wolfwood lets out a shaky breath.

“He’s the other angel, isn’t he?” Aster asks. “The one on the windows and paintings and everything.”

Wolfwood’s throat tightens. “Yeah,” he manages.

“Our Creator,” Aster continues, plucked from the familiar spiel Knives gives them on days where he feels like the kids aren’t appreciative enough. “But he seemed sad. Why would he be, if he’s in Paradise?”

“Who told you that?” Wolfwood asks, a bit too sharply.

Wolfwood swallows and looks up, trying not to show any emotion. “I... I don’t know if I can answer that question.”

"I thought you knew him?”

Aster flinches a little, but answers, “Zazie.”

Wolfwood inwardly curses. He’s going to beat their ass. What the hell possessed Zazie to do such a thing? “I did. But it was a long time ago.”

“Can you tell me about him?”

“I...” Wolfwood trails off. He doesn’t know if he’s allowed to, but more than that, how can he? I loved your father, and I betrayed him. He wasn’t like the Knives you all hero-worship, distant and cool and powerful. He was... he would have...

He remembers the vines swallowing up Julai. The screams that lasted for days, weeks, afterwards, along with the sucking bursts of breath and blood. The strangely beautiful purple blooms, their scent that still lingers in the walls. The endless litany of a piano playing that same damn song, over and over.

The howl that burst from his lips when he saw Vash, encased in stone, lips rounded in a silent scream.

“Nico?”

He stares into Aster’s earnest face, glad that his sunglasses are hiding the moisture building underneath his eyelids. He has kind eyes. “Yeah?”

“I think he wanted to talk to me, but couldn’t. But you can, Nico. Right?”

“Have you told Kn—your Father about this?”

“No. Should I?”

Wolfwood shakes his head. “I don’t know if that’s necessary, Aster.” He doesn’t know how Knives will react, and refuses to think of more than Vash is dead. You’ve known this for years. He doesn’t dare. Hasn’t even looked in the room where Vash is as good as a statue, arms stretched by the same knives that rise from his shoulderblades like wings.

But he looks at Aster. Vash’s son. Doesn’t he deserve to know him? Doesn’t Vash deserve more than to be a story?

"I called your father tongari," he begins, closing his eyes, "because of his hair. It stuck up in spikes, like this—" he gently arranges Aster’s into pointed tufts. "He was blonde, like you, but a shade darker than your hair. And he had eyes like yours, as blue as the desert sky. His favorite treat in the whole world was freshly-baked doughnuts, sprinkled with crystals of sugar, and when he laughed, it was like the sun coming out. He was a quick shot, too, but could never hurt anyone..."  

[triplesilverstar]

Rating: G

Pairing: Vash X F!Reader

CW: Mentions of pregnancy, Aliases 

Word count: Roughly 1. 5K

A/N: So the second of my Dad!Vash drabbles/blurbs which seem to keep getting bigger and bigger… Gee I wonder why. Anyway enjoy some nice ice skating fluff with some more interactions from the reader this time as they watch Vash and Rei learning how to skate. Or in Vash's case, falling on ice.

Failing limbs and a soft cry and Rei’s skates got caught up in his feet once more as he pitched forward to land on the slippery surface. Only to stop as he found himself in the air, the clear blue ice replaced by a head of dark hair planted against the cold sheet. “Papa!” 

Looking up with his hand around Rei’s middle, Vash smiled trying to hide the wince as his cheeks hurt from the impact. “We gotta be careful, can’t have you getting hurt.” Keeping Rei in the air, Vash pushed himself back up to his knees before placing Rei back down and holding his hands out for the boy to get his balance on the thin blades under his feet. “There we go buddy. Ready to try again?” 

A short little nod from the little blond as Rei’s fingers gripped his fathers long digits tighter through his little mittens and tried to push himself forward again. It had been an afternoon of chilly delights as father and son tried skating for the first time. With Rei quickly learning that while he might not have been very good at pushing himself across the frozen water lining the space, he was better at it then his Papa was.

It was a new concept, one put on by the Earth forces that both you and Vash think is to try and convince the inhabitants of the planet that they’re there to help. Neither of you fully believe it, and you certainly know attempted good will gestures and public relations stunts when you see them. The whole reason they were going around different towns and setting up the skating arena for a few days was to show what they could do to improve the lives of the inhabitants of the planet, if they were the ones in charge of the government and how the natural resources were used. The people of Noman’s Land hadn’t survived this long to hand it over so easily, but when Vash had gotten word that one of the units was coming to the town nearest to your little ranch he had sat you down and pleaded. 

“Mayfly, we both know it’s an attempt to sway the population and I’m still wanted but I don’t want Rei to miss the chance for something so wholesome.” With this best puppy dog face on as he smiled softly with a hand over yours as his thumb brushed your knuckles. 

All you could do as he kept those eyes on you with his adoration and pleading you dragged a hand down your face before setting him with a hard stare. “I’ll think about it.” 

There wasn’t that much thinking on your part as every chance he had Vash was whispering in your ear how amazing an experience it would be for Rei and never voicing how you knew he also wanted to go. Unlike you Vash had never seen ice, sure he’d felt cold like that at night but to see a building with the floor covered in the clear frozen water. 

It also didn't help that Vash had help in his pleading and pestering, with Rei asking just as much as his father even if he didn't fully understand the reasons why you were so hesitant. So while you internally warred with yourself and both males in your life acted like whining puppies left out in the harsh conditions of a sandstorm. 

Eventually you caved. Vash and you sit Rei down and put a series of rules in place to make sure your little family wasn’t found out. Then once Rei was in bed you set down a set of rules for the grinning madman to make sure he didn't reveal anything about your identities either. 

On the day of and the moment you and Vash stepped through the door with Rei held up in his fathers arms, his growing limbs wrapped around his scarfed neck as he looked around you knew it was worth it. Seeing the awe spread on his little chubby cheek as his face was split with a grin and he let out a happy little squeal of delight he was quick to try and hide. The look on Vash’s face had been just as wonderful to your eyes and seeing the slight puff of vapors past his sun chapped lips and the tip of his nose already turning pink. 

You’d taken to walking around the edge of the sheet of the frozen surface as Vash and Rei donned skates and stumbled their way out to the ice like so many of the other townsfolk. It was sweet how many times Rei would fall, or almost fall only to be swept up in his fathers arms before it happened. Vash of course wasn’t so lucky and the evidence of those rescues was starting to become apparent. Covered in bruises and his face red from the ice it kept being wedged against, yet he never gave up trying to help Rei skate along and while he wasn’t getting any better Rei certainly was. His little legs pushed him farther and farther as he grew more comfortable on the thin metal strapped to his feet, calling out for his Papa to catch up to him. 

An afternoon of laughter as Rei started to skate circles around Vash and tried to help his father grow more comfortable. At this point though you were certain Vash would never improve beyond his stumbling and wobbly short glides.

Eventually though from even your place at the edge you could see Rei let out a yawn and his own pale cheeks were starting to turn red from the cold. Making a motion for your husband and son to come towards you and Rei made it about halfway before he fell back on his butt and laughed too far ahead of his father to be caught this time.

Giggling like mad when Vash arrived to help him up and Rei instead pulled his father down beside him. “It's weird to be chilly and warm at the same time Papa.” You could hear from your place at the edge as his voice carried, making you shake your head. 

“Well, I for one am ready to be warm Rei.” Vash answered before scooping him and slowly making his way towards you with a somewhat sleepy looking sprout in his arms. “Did you have fun my little Rei of Sunshine?” A wide smile on your face as you took your little boy from Vash so he could work on taking the blades of his feet as he plopped down beside you. 

“Yes Mama. So much fun.” Letting out a little laugh before yawning and snuggling against your chest as you sat beside Vash and starting undoing Rei’s and slipping his own shoes back on his smaller feet. Once his feet were once more protected from the cold, you turned towards Vash as he pulled his own shoes on, his breath wafting up in little clouds along his black hair. 

“How about you Sunshine?” Holding back the chuckle rising through you at the look he gives you. 

“My face hurts, but this was worth it.” Reaching up to rub at his jaw before his shoulder froze. “For Rei.” Tacking on at the end before pushing his fingers into his bruised flesh, only for you to place your palm over his and rubbing into the chilled flesh before giving it a pat. 

“Come on Eriks” Using the alias since you didn’t know who was around to overhear you speaking. “Let's get you and our baby home to warm up.” Standing up with Rei in your arms as best as you can, the boy getting to be almost to big for you to carry comfortably in your arms as you once had. 

“I'm not a baby Mama.” A broken complaint from the boy in your arms rubbing at his eyes,sending a smile at Vash as he made a motion to take the boy back. 

With a bit of maneuvering you passed Rei back to him and heard a mumble of “tell Mama I'm not a baby Papa.” Followed by a yawn. Taking the skates from Vash you headed back to the little kiosk you had gotten them from near the door before drifting outside to find Vash already atop his tomas with Rei in front of him and the reins for your own mount in hand. 

Climbing into the saddle and a brief thank you to your spouse, the two of you turn towards home and begin the journey back. Taking notice of Vash still rubbing his cheek you let out a short laugh. “Once we get home and get Rei settled I'll kiss all those boo-boos better.” Giving him a wink and you see the red rising on his cheeks for a different reason than when you had been inside the frozen arena. 

“You know, I've been thinking.” He drawled on, his grin growing wider and more lecherous. “I think I want another one.” 

“Not a baby.” Both you and Vash erupt into laughter at his sleepy tone. 

“Not in front of the baby, but we'll talk about it.” You roll your eyes and a smaller voice pipes up.

[nanomooselet]

Episode Ten: Humanity

Toot toot! Emotional pain train leaving the station. No stops between here and the season finale.

I left off Meryl's kidnapping last ep because it feels more appropriate to discuss it here, because here's where we learn it wasn't actually part of the plan. Knives didn't order Zazie to abduct Meryl so she could be used as bait for Vash - Vash was already on his way. He's fully committed to confronting Knives over the Plants even though he'd really rather not. I don't blame him. I, too, would rather be anywhere but on the same planet as his brother, and I'm not the one who lost a limb to the fucker.

(...Sorry, Vash. I'm glad somebody loves him, but your brother is an asshole.)

Zazie is not loyal to Knives. Perhaps, confident in his superiority, Knives assumed that he could rely on a non-human collective entity, but Zazie isn't here to work for him. Zazie's just here for a good time! And incidentally to decide who to entrust with the fate of the world in whatever struggle ensues. Having already gone on at length about Zazie, I'll go with another thought: why did the weird bug do this, and why Meryl?

My initial, biased reaction would be not to trust Knives as far as I could throw the combined mass of the entire universe - regardless of what points he makes or doesn't make, he's not open to compromise with anyone. With Knives, you do it his way, you're forced to submit to his way, or it's a million knives for you. But I'm not Zazie.

Knives would probably be pretty appealing to open an alliance with purely on the strength that unlike humans, he doesn't eat - so he's not out there hunting and eating Worms. And if what he said about Earth is the truth, there's every chance we won't learn, using up No Man's Land as well. I won't defend us as a species on those grounds: yes, we're prone to forming power structures where a few on top benefit by hollowing out the rest. With our short lives experience is lost upon death, so it takes us time to learn or change.

Nevertheless there's one line Zazie has that ended any inclination I had towards thinking Knives is just morally outraged about the use of Plants in general: Meryl asks if the collection of red Plants is going to be used in a Last Run, and Zazie says something like, "It's better than letting them go to waste." If there's some way to read that which isn't "Knives will initiate the Last Run as long as the resultant energy surge benefits him and not humans," I can't find it. So my feeling is that Zazie is starting to detect the contradictions and logical errors in Knives's arguments, and noticing that despite his noble declarations he's not really interested in defending the rest of the universe. Knives really only cares about one thing.

So, says Zazie to Meryl, what do you think? Is Knives right? Will you chew up all the Plants, and our planet, and find another world to consume? Would we better off if you all came to an end right here?

So why Meryl? Why not one of the others? It can't be Vash; apart from the fact that he's not human, there's another reason (more on that for the finale). Wolfwood is too enmeshed in the Eye of Michael's bullshit to be trusted as an unbiased source and doesn't really like Zazie either. Same's true for any of the other individuals working for Knives. Roberto might work, but he's got a pretty rigid mindset - demonstrated by the fact that he fires on Zazie, taking them to be hostile. The people of Home are too secluded. Anyone else isn't in the position of having recently witnessed the contrast between life in the cities and on the edges of what passes for civilisation

Meryl, however, also has one thing arguably no other character on this show but Knives has.

Agency.

(With a couple of exceptions. Again, for the finale.)

Sounds odd, doesn't it? She's so tiny. She's not armed. No superpowers. Half the time she has to be hauled out of danger before she gets her dumb ass killed. She's ignorant of the world, naïve, even a little bit of a priss. All in all pretty silly. But she still has agency, because agency isn't just the capacity to commit violence or to be taken seriously; it's the ability to take action. It's the power to choose your course. Meryl was initially just pursuing the story for Bernadelli News, but every single one of the choices she made took her further away from that course. She was the one who chose to let Vash down when he was hanging in the desert, then because she was thirsty he led her to the diner. She misdirected the July police while she was at it, then lassoed Vash herself - laying a claim. At the diner she noticed the water was cloudy, so Rosa asked Vash to fix the water Plant. Then her outrage at (but fear of) the July police spurred Roberto into convincing them to duel. It was Meryl who wanted so badly to help Vash that Rosa gave her the bullet. Meryl came up with the plan to take down E.G. It was Meryl who tried and failed to help Tonis as Jeneora Rock fell. It's Meryl who drives the car, Meryl who damn near flattens Wolfwood, Meryl who nearly runs into the Worm that Monev killed and drew them to Rollo's village. Roberto keeps trying to convince her to just leave, to be safe, but over and over and over, Meryl is the one who demands that they stay.

And having observed them from the very start, Zazie has taken notice. And Zazie is intrigued. So Meryl's the one who gets to know the truth.

Unfortunately that means also learning truths you'd rather not learn, such as what this piece of shit's been up to.

I don't have much to say about Dr. Conrad, except that while I'm actually a little sceptical over whether he participated in [redacted], if your plan has, as step one, "Abduct poor and disabled children because otherwise they'll live purposeless lives," find a better plan.

And here's the other thing about having agency.

It means the consequences are yours to bear.

What's great about Roberto, though, is that despite being blatantly doomed to die from the moment he stepped into the show, he still had a character arc. He went from grumbling over Meryl's principles to making his own moral stand (which I just typed as Meryl stand, appropriately enough) by cutting right through Conrad's delusions and telling him exactly what he really is. At the heart of this evil, Roberto de Niro had no interest in excuses or garbage about the big picture. Conrad kidnapped and tortured children. He doesn't get to claim the moral high ground.

And with that, Roberto bows out with astonishing grace: absolving Meryl for his death, telling her this wasn't her fault and joking to the last. And along with her signature derringer, as Wolfwood guides Vash to the point of no return (still trying to justify himself, but also to push Vash to make the choice Wolfwood knows Vash would never make with his brother) Roberto gives Meryl one final gift. She still has a choice. She can run, if she wants. But she won't.

Also, Knives is still a fucking drama queen, if we needed the reminder.

[vashbug]

Dropped into No Man’s Land Ch 3

Summary: Vash fixes your phone and wonders about your life on earth. The two of you travel through the desert. You run into an old friend.

Notes: I’m having such a good time writing this. If you want more extensive notes, you can find them on AO3. :)

First Chapter: Here

Second Chapter: Here

Read on AO3: Here

***

Vash thinks his new companion is a little strange. Well, a little might be a bit generous. He thought, at first, that this stranger he picked up in the desert was... quirky. Wearing clothes that looked far too clean and traveling way too light, but innocent-looking enough that he didn't spare a second thought about helping them.

Now he's wondering if he's going to regret that decision.

He sits beside them now, watching them flash through an incomprehensible range of emotions as they practically slam their fingers down on a set of ancient keys. He wouldn't have believed they were a being from another dimension if it weren't for the strange old computer and the pristine coat and shoes. He watches them cautiously as they let out a manic laugh and run their hands through their hair.

He's not going to ask them what they're looking at; most of what he can see on the screen is text and tiny boxes arranged neatly in rows and lists. It's not really his business, and although he's dying to know, keeps his mouth shut.

As his new friend is staring into the glowing screen of their computer, Vash decides to tinker with the strange little brick of technology in the firelight. He flips it over, examining the edges, the buttons, the charging port. They called it a phone, which he thinks he remembers from Rem's stories. At least, the name is familiar. He thought phones would be bigger.

He doesn't ask for permission before he decides to pry it open. Laying out the cloth and tools he uses when he cleans and repairs his gun, he pops the screen off with little effort. The inside has wires and circuits he's never seen before. If he didn't believe this person was from the past before, he certainly believes them now.

He notices that a few wires are loose, probably from their accident. It doesn't take long before he's carefully reconnected everything and snapped the screen back into place. He presses the buttons on the side of the phone, mimicking what he had seen them do earlier.

The screen comes to life in a similar way the computer's did. "Hey!" He laughs and hold the phone up in their direction with pride. "A master gunman and a genius. Who knew?” But his friend is too engrossed in whatever they're looking at to notice, and Vash is disappointed when they don't acknowledge his handiwork. His disappointment is quickly replaced with curiosity when he sees the phone's screen. The background is a picture of the stranger and someone else, bringing their hands together to form a heart. He touches the photo, only to be surprised that it responds to his fingers. It's so interesting how this tech is so similar and yet so different from what he’s familiar with.

He slides up on the screen and the home page comes into view, revealing more neat little squares organized into rows.  He taps a few of them, surprised to learn that each one is it's own program. One of the last ones he taps opens a program that is rows and rows of photos, photos he knows he probably shouldn't look at without permission, but he's too curious and they're not paying attention. He glances at them, and with a mischievous grin he decides it's fair game if the thing didn't even have a passcode. 

He looks through them carefully. A large portion of them are photos of an animal of some kind. It looks like a cat, a very fluffy cat with pointy ears, but he's sure it's not (later he learns from them that this is an animal known as a Pomeranian). Many of the photos are of them with other people, hugging, laughing, and sometimes posing together. His chest aches as he looks through the pictures; he hadn't really thought about how many people were missing them on Earth. Just how many people had they left behind? You're so far from home, he thinks, looking at their face in the dim light. He knows the feeling all too well.

He comes across a sequence of photos that, for some reason, stirs something deep within his chest. They are all photos of the stranger, candid photos of them somewhere surrounded by books. They're leaning over a few scattered journals and texts, a pen balanced gracefully in their hand. Their face is peaceful, almost bored. His heart stutters at that expression; he doubts he will ever see it in person.

The next few photos are taken immediately after, in which they realize their photo is being taken and they reach out for the camera, first with mock anger and then with unrestrained laughter. He looks at the one where they're laughing for a long time. They hadn't said much about their own life on Earth, cautiously sticking to broader subjects. Who were you? Who are these friends? What was your life like? Did you have someone special to you? Did you have someone you love? Suddenly, he wants to know all the details.

He puts his tools away and gets up, phone in hand. He sits across from them and gently taps the top of the computer screen to get their attention. Their head snaps up at him, and he can see in their eyes exactly how tired they are.

"Hey, I uh, I fixed this." He hands them the phone sheepishly. Their eyes light up as they take it from him, navigating the controls on the cracked screen with practiced motions. He watches them swipe through the photos he had just looked at, a mixture of relief and sadness plain on their face. He thinks, briefly, that with the right voltage he could probably manage to keep the small device running for a while…

His thoughts are interrupted when he feels arms wrap around his shoulders as his companion throws themselves at him, tightening their grip around his neck as they pull themselves into his lap for a clumsy hug.

"Thank you," they mumble into his neck, their voice hoarse. "I thought it was broken. You have no idea how much it means to me... I was worried I would forget what they all look like.”

This alone nearly breaks him, and he returns the hug, holding them tightly against him. He can feel their pain in the way they breathe—short, hitched breaths that shake their entire body. He lets them stay like that until they're done crying again, and they settle neatly into his lap, cradled between his legs like a child. They go back to looking through the photos before turning the device off entirely.

"I need to save the battery," they say. They look up at him with watery eyes and tear-stained cheeks, and he does his best not to break down crying himself. "Did you look?" Their voice is flat, as if they already know the answer.

He's knows he's not in trouble, but he still feels like a child caught in a lie. "I saw a few of the photographs. You have a lot of friends. It looks like you were always having fun with them.” He's smiling, but he can't mask the sadness in his voice. They smile at this and look at their own reflection in the blank screen.

"Yeah, I guess... I did." They lean their side into his chest, curling up against him. “They’re not my friends anymore, though. I don’t have any friends now.”

"You still have friends, they're still your friends," he says softly, gently taking the phone from their hands and placing it with the computer. He’s quiet for a moment. “I’ll be your friend. Your first friend on No Man’s Land. Then you won’t have to be alone. Okay?”

They sniffle and smile weakly. “Thanks, Vash. I’m glad it was you who found me.”

He watches their face as they close their eyes, exhausted. They look so much smaller than before, and he has a hard time believing he ever doubted they were innocent.

He takes in their features in the soft light of the fire, memorizing the shape of their nose, their eyes, everything. He knows what it's like to lose your home, to find yourself stranded on a strange planet. He knows what it's like to have to leave the people you love behind. And what’s worse, it seems like they left behind a happy life, where people really loved them. He looks at them and he feels… Responsibility? Pity? He can’t pin down the feeling, but he knows that he wants to protect them. He worries that this experience will hurt them beyond repair, in the same way he hurts now. He’ll do whatever it takes to keep that from happening.

Once he knows for sure they're asleep he picks them up gently and places them under his jacket near the fire. They groan a little, then curl up, pulling the jacket around them. Cute, he thinks.

He gets up and moves to the other side of the fire, watching it for a while.

And then he allows himself a moment to break. Fresh tears roll down his face as he remembers everything--every moment, in detail. He wonders, as he does often, if this is a curse. A life doomed to losing everything and remembering everything. He finds small fragments of comfort in his memories of Rem, in the kind people he's met, the children he's played with. And now, in his strange new companion who fell from the sky.

After a while he settles down near them, close enough that he can see the details of their face in the firelight. He thinks about their stories of Earth, the sound of their laugh. The photos.

He doesn't sleep.

*** You wake up to the sound of metal clinking together. The soft light of the rising suns is not yet hot enough to make you sweat. You sit up, groggy and still sore, but in better shape than you were the day before.

Vash is sitting three paces away, dismantling his gun and cleaning each part with care. You watch as his hands delicately move the pieces under a cloth.

“Well, well, look who's up. Good morning, sleepyhead.” He has his usual disarming smile. You almost forgot how beautiful he is. You grumble at him and flop back down, pulling his jacket over your head. You hear him chuckle at this. “Not a morning person, are you?”

You answer with another groan. You’re still not used to seeing him, here in the flesh, and you’re embarrassed about what happened last night. He’s seen you cry twice now. And you even sat in his lap. Your face grows hot at the memory and you take a moment to sit under his jacket and compose yourself. It doesn’t help that the coat smells exactly like him.

Last night you were able to read about half of what you had left of the fan fiction before you were interrupted by Vash. As the story goes, he will be in Octovern soon, where he’ll run into Wolfwood earlier than he expected. The two of them fight off a group of mercenaries that are terrorizing one of the local taverns in search of information on… something not really specified by the writer. The important part is that Wolfwood is injured, and Vash blames himself, then tends to his wounds, and…

Your heartbeat picks up as you recall Vash and Wolfwood spending an intimate night together in a room with only one bed. It’s cliché, sure, but it never gets old. The writer didn’t spare any details, either. Thinking about it makes you tense up, and you feel warmth in the pit of your stomach. Get a grip, you think, you’ve read a dozen of fics of them together. The problem is, none of them have ever come true. You’re scared to even look at Vash, worried that you’ll start thinking about it. Come on, you’re an adult. Behave like one.

Either way, you now know the name of the tavern, and that you’ll be seeing Wolfwood soon. The thought of meeting him makes you nervous, like you’re about to meet a celebrity. Which, in your case, is sort of true. You are a little worried that you’ll become a third wheel, and wonder if you should try to stay out of the way to maintain the plot. You’ll decide later, when you’re in the city.

Finally, you gather the courage to sit up again, just as Vash begins to clean up his equipment. He notices you and smiles again. “Did you sleep okay?”

You look at him and your face gets red immediately. What happened to behaving like an adult? “Yeah, thank you for lending me your coat.” You hand it back to him with some reluctance, hopeful that he doesn’t notice the blush on your face.

“I’m happy to help,” he beams, slipping his arms into the sleeves and fastening the protective plate back onto his left arm. You feel a little disappointed that you can’t see that tight-fitting turtleneck anymore.

You turn your attention to your laptop. When you flip it open, you find that you drained the battery while reading last night. You’re not surprised in the slightest. “It’s dead,” you say nonchalantly.

Vash looks concerned. “Did it break?”

“No, it’s just run out of battery. I have a cable for it,” you say, pulling it out of your backpack. “But it’s going to need electricity. I doubt you guys have any adapters for American plugs here,” you say with a laugh. Vash gives you a puzzled look. “Ah… never mind.”

“We can find a way to charge it, it should be pretty easy when we get to Octovern.” He looks at you with your laptop in your hands as though he wants to say something.

“What is it?”

He realizes he's staring and looks away. “Sorry, it’s nothing. We should probably eat something.” He walks over to his bag and pulls out a few rations. They look sort of like candy bars. “I usually only carry meal bars when I’m traveling. Perishable things don’t do well in the heat,” he says, handing one to you. “It’s enough for one meal, which should be enough to hold us over until we get there.”

You take it, your eyes wide in awe. You flip the small bar over in your hand, looking for the nutrition information out of habit. So cool, you think. I’ll finally know what this tastes like.

Vash is watching your face as you study the bar, peeling the wrapper off his own. He laughs. “You look like I just handed you a priceless artifact.”

Your face flushes a little. “Well, to me it is. I never thought I would get to try one of these.” You tear the package open carefully and bite off the corner of the small, pinkish bar. It tastes like styrofoam. “Ew.”

Vash laughs again. “Sorry, it’s not very good.”

You eat the rest without complaining, washing it down with a bit of water. You put the wrapper inside your backpack for safe-keeping. If you do ever get home, you’ll want to show your friends every little bit of your adventure. Vash watches you do this with an amused look on his face, but he doesn’t tease you further.

“Okay,” Vash says, standing and dusting off his pants. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah,” you say, shoving your belongings into your backpack. “How long will it take for us to walk there?”

“Oh, probably only about… three or four hours?” Vash says casually. “We’re pretty close.”

You try not to look too upset about the idea of walking that long through the desert. It isn’t hot yet, but it will be soon. You wish you had worn more comfortable shoes. If only you knew you'd be dying yesterday.

Vash notices you look at your feet. “If you get tired or your feet hurt, just let me know. I’ll carry you.”

He’s doing this on purpose, you think. “I’ll probably be fine. I walk all the time.”

You follow Vash into the great expanse of sand, determined to get there without a complaint. Your determination runs out after about two hours of walking. Walking on pavement or on a hike is one thing; walking on sand for hours is exhausting. The heat from the suns isn’t helping.

Vash notices you grow quiet as your pace begins to slow down. “You okay?” He stops to look at you.

“I’m… fine…” you pant. “I think… I need to sit down.”

Vash doesn’t hesitate to take your backpack from you and sling it over his chest. He positions his own bag so it hangs off his prosthetic arm and kneels down, his back facing you. “Come on,” he says. “You’re probably not used to the desert. I can’t have you passing out on me again.”

You aren’t in a position to argue. Feeling ashamed at your neediness, you climb onto his back. He hoists you up, careful not to jostle you too much. Much to your relief, he seems entirely unaffected by the extra weight.

He smells faintly of gun oil, a smell you’re beginning to find comforting. You let yourself lean into the back of his neck and close your eyes. He hums a little to pass the time, and you can feel the vibrations from his voice. You think you might be getting used to being around him, although you’re positive he can feel your slightly elevated heartbeat through his back. You hope you can blame it on heat exhaustion.

“What were your friends like?” Vash asks out of nowhere. His tone is soft.

This takes you by surprise. “Uh…”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Vash says quickly. “I’m just… curious about what your life was like on Earth. I mean, you told me a lot about Earth, but you didn’t tell me much about yourself.”

His interest in you makes you feel shy, and you’re glad he can’t see your face. You tell him about your friends, about your family, your job. It feels a little silly to talk about your comparatively easy life on Earth, knowing what he’s been through. But as you talk you can tell he’s hanging on to your every word. He sometimes asks follow-up questions, but mostly he listens intently.

He’s quiet for a while after you finish.

“I’m a little jealous,” he laughs softly. His tone strikes you with guilt, but he keeps talking. “Not in a bad way. I’m glad you’ve had such a peaceful life so far. It must be why you’re such a good person.”

You bury your face in his neck and say nothing.

“Earth sounds amazing, even with its flaws. I hope No Man’s Land is like that someday. I’m going to do my best to make it that way.”

“I think you will,” you say. “I mean, the book never said if you do or not. I just think that you will. If anyone can, it’s you.”

He laughs. “Thanks, but I won’t be able to do it without everyone’s help. I can be pretty useless on my own. The only reason I’m even still alive is because others always help me out.”

How can someone be so arrogant and so modest all at once, you think, chuckling softly.

“That’s true. You’re a walking disaster,” you say, pressing a finger into his cheek.

“Hey! Only I get to make fun of me,” he laughs, and it’s bright and warm. “I supposed you know me better than, well, almost anyone.”

Oh, that’s definitely not true, you think. “In No Man’s Land, maybe.”  You pause. “But it also feels like you’re… somewhere hard to reach. It’s hard to explain. I know a lot of things about you, but you’re a stranger to me, and it feels like it will always be that way.”

You’re worried you were too honest with that last part, but he hums thoughtfully.

“We probably won’t ever be able to fully understand each other; it’s always like that. I know I’m a plant, and I’ll always be strange to you. The only person who knows what it’s like to be a plant is Knives.”

You can feel him holding back. You know that he is trying to tell you that he is dangerous, far more dangerous than you can imagine; that he has powers even he doesn’t understand. You know this is a younger Vash, one from before… everything. But you think about what he said during the Fifth Moon incident. Maybe we should never have been born. Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest.

“You know a lot about me, though. More than any other human I’ve met. So,” he adjusts you on his back. “I don’t think we’ll always be strangers.”

You smile into his neck. “Yeah, I guess.” What about Wolfwood, you think. But it’s not the same. They’re partners, something beyond lovers, sharing the kind of bond you can only share when you go through hell with someone. You won’t take that from him. You’d never want to take that from him.

You think of the couch and quickly push Wolfwood out of your mind. You don’t want to think about that right now.

Vash carries you on his back for a while longer, and you tell him more details about Earth. In exchange, he tells you things about No Man’s Land. He talks about how the days are a similar length to yours, how the planet takes less time to travel around the suns so they have to measure the years in days, not orbits. You tell him about American units of measurement, and the idea of measuring things in ‘feet’ makes him laugh. You keep the topics light, exchanging the mundane parts of your lives.

You begin to see the city in the distance about three hours into your trip. You insist that Vash put you down for the rest of the way, too embarrassed to be carried into the city. Still, he asks you several more times on your way there if you’re okay.

When you arrive, you’re surprised to see how normal it looks. There are homes and shops, children running and playing in the streets. In the distance you can see what you assume is the tower housing the city’s plants.

Vash buys you each a surprisingly normal looking sandwich, and you eat while you walk.

“I think we might want to get you some new shoes,” Vash says, looking down at your feet. You can’t argue with him, and silently wonder how Wolfwood is running around in loafers.

You find a pair of sturdy black boots that have a bit of a platform, and Vash manages to haggle the price down to something reasonable. As you focus on lacing them up, you feel something wrap around your shoulders. You look up to find that Vash is knelt down and reaching around you.

It’s a cropped jacket with a hood, made in your favorite color. It’s clean and new, and looks well-made. You look at Vash, your eyes wide. “The boots were already enough, I can’t accept this…”

He chuckles softly at your expression. “It’s not much, but it will help keep you out of the sun. Think of it as a welcome gift. Plus I couldn’t help it when I saw the color.”

Warmth blooms in your chest as you slip your arms into the sleeves. Somehow he guessed your measurements, because it fits perfectly. The material is soft but durable.

Just as you are about to thank him, you hear gunshots ring out from down the street. You and Vash exchange worried looks before taking off in the direction of the shots.

You come to the tavern just in time to find three mercenaries brandishing their guns. Vash puts a protective arm up in front of you instinctively.

Across from the mercenaries, standing in front of the cowering patrons, is a single man. His shoulders are broad, and his eyes are shaded by a pair of dark frames.

He is holding a massive cross under his right arm.

He looks in your direction when you enter, and his mouth cracks into a wry smile.

“Well, well. Fancy meeting you here, needle-noggin.”

[smokeygrayrabbits]

vash knows all the constellations. he knows their stories, he knows the names of the stars that make them up, he knows which ones are distorted by the different position of gunsmoke compared to earth. he knows how to navigate by them. how they're made and how they die. he points them out to wolfwood on quiet nights, when they're laying on their coats in the sand or sprawled out on the top of meryls car.

he whispers their legends like he's telling the story of a lost friend, of someone held dear but is just out of reach. a piece of his heart never to be seen again. vash will whisper about neutrons and and nebulas and fusion. once, after a few too many drinks and a few too many silent tears, he told wolfwood about supernovas. about the death of something so ancient and bright and giving, a final push, a final gift of energy and substance and life. a last run.

wolfwood doesn't know the stars. he doesn't know about particles or gravitational forces or radiation or ancient legends. no time for learning when theres mouths to feed. wolfwoods never seen the stars up close, not in the way he suspects vash has, but he's seen vash, and isnt that close enough? this ancient being, so bright and powerful and endlessly giving. who shines light on all the planets people, warming their lives, giving life. watching over them all, here long before they were and here long after they're gone. what else does one need to be a star?

wolfwood can't help but think the typhoon moniker is wrong. his angel is more of a star than anything. ancient and bright and giving and just out of reach, so incomprehensibly far above them yet still visible, still gracing their lives with his light. wolfwood can't help but think vash has the gravity of a star too, pulling people linto his orbit and letting them bask in his radiance.

wolfwood might not know the constellations, but he knows vash. he can lay next to this cosmic beauty and trace patterns in the sky, not the traditional ones of the tales of an old world lost, but of the stories carved into the skin of an angel. he traces the galaxies visible in the desert sky at the same time he traces the lines that map across vash's skin. vashs markings always look particularly radiant under the starlight, shimmering as if in greeting to the heavens this angel came from.

[the-and-sign-anon]

The Third Independent: 4

Word Count: 1,793

Series Masterlist

Thirty Years Post-Fall

It wasn’t easy to be alone again. You’d managed for the first three years after the Big Fall, with only the bugs for company. After Vash left and everyone went into cold sleep though, it felt crushing. You’d spend most days wandering around the ship cleaning everything, ensuring not a single surface or object got too dusty. 

When you would finish with that, you’d start reading the files on the ship. Luida had given you the access codes to anything you wanted to learn. You took a liking to reading up on flora and fauna from Earth, finding yourself wishing you could have seen the planet before it was stripped bare. While it left you with conflicted feelings, it was a pretty good distraction.

Now that you thought about Vash constantly, you needed a distraction every day. 

More and more often, when your eyes burned from staring at screens, you went out to the Worms. They would lift you up, spin you around, and glow brightly in the air above the ship. Your soul sang with them. In the end, your mind always drifted back to what you lacked, what you once hadn’t known you were missing. 

“Hey, Mayfly.”

You looked down from your perch atop the ship where you’d been watching a swarm of Worms and leapt down immediately to greet him. 

“Dove!”

Your arms wrapped tight around him as he tucked his face into your neck. His toma was looking aged, tired from the years of travel. He looked the same as always, except for the shine in his eyes. 

“You made it back!”

“Of course I did. Couldn’t leave my Mayfly to the Worms forever, could I?”

You grinned so hard your face almost hurt. His little nickname for you had evolved that tiny bit over the last few years. It was a small change, but incredibly important. It was the best he could do to tell you how he felt when his words failed him. He still hadn’t managed that three word phrase since the night you first shared a nest.

“Okay, you have to tell me everything. For the logs, of course.”

“Of course.”

You were keeping logs of everything Vash found in the years he was gone, trying to help Luida plan for how to expand the flora once it was ready. That, and you loved hearing Vash talk. 

He sat down in your room as always, settling on the edge of the bed while you held a tablet on the floor. He told you about each town he visited and the people there, watching you rapidly scribble down notes. He always paused at the right moments to let you catch up with what he was saying, then continued when your eyes flickered up to him.

This was his favorite part of his return trips to Home. Most of the time, Luida and Brad were still asleep, so he’d only see you. Not that he minded, considering you were the best part of Home anyway. After updating his logs, which gave him time to admire you in your intense focus, you’d bring him back to the dome to show him the progress made with the flora. 

You always regarded the dome with such reverence. Vash had been lucky in his childhood to see the greenery Rem kept on Ship Five, but it was all new to you when Luida started the project. You would step slowly into the grass, barefoot as always, feeling each blade move around you. Vash would follow close behind, watching every slight motion with complete adoration. 

Next, you threw yourself down, letting out a small ‘oof’ as you hit the ground before sprawling out to feel as much of the grass as possible. Your hands reached out at your sides, caressing a fresh bloom of bright red. Some of the first flowers you’d managed to coax to life so far. 

Vash joined you, much more slowly, and laid on his stomach, supporting his face with his hands. He didn’t allow himself many luxuries, but he couldn’t help admiring you at every opportunity. Your eyes reflected the false sky, your chest moved slowly with your steady breaths. You were perfect. 

“You’re doing a great job with this, Mayfly.”

“It’s all Luida’s instruction. But I have to say, this does feel better than that cold room.”

You were always more open about your feelings than Vash. While you certainly hadn’t addressed the state of your relationship, he did know how you felt. You didn’t shy away from telling him you missed him, or that your nest suddenly felt a little empty when he was gone. 

He hadn’t had the nerve to tell you he’d begun nesting on his travels. He wasn’t very good at it, in his opinion. He didn’t know how to make it as cozy and comforting as yours, with firm bedding to act as a foundation and soft, worn materials to wrap around him and keep him warm at night. He knew the real problem was that he didn’t have you.

“When did they go to sleep last?”

“Last time you were here. So… about seven years ago. They need their rest, so I try not to wake them up unless it’s an emergency.”

“The Worms still hang around, right?”

You nodded softly as your eyes traced the support beams of the dome. Your friends were just beyond it, always gathering outside Home to see you. You still sang together often, but it all just felt a little emptier. Vash had certainly done a number on you, him and his humans. You didn’t like to be alone so much anymore.

You remained in the dome for hours. The artificial sky darkened eventually, set on a timer Luida created to mimic day and night. She explained to you once how the plants could use a break from constant sunlight, when you asked why it wouldn’t just make them grow faster. 

The colors changed from blue to violet, pink, and orange; then faded to midnight. The only light you could see from here were the small ones on the door, always reminding you this wasn’t real. You weren’t outside, you weren’t just relaxing with Vash on a normal day. This was a little bubble of fantasy. You hated knowing it was bound to pop.

“Do you… miss this place…?”

Your voice was low, soft, more so than Vash was used to hearing. It surprised him every time, how your rough edges could smooth out when you got nervous with him. You were rarely so gentle with anyone else.

“Of course I do, Mayfly. You’re here. Luida and Brad are here.”

“I know, but you always miss people. I mean,” You turned your head to face him as he looked up at the artificial stars, “do you miss this place? Home? The ship?”

He was quiet for a while. You wanted an answer, but not if it made him uncomfortable. You were about to apologize and retract the question when he answered in a soft voice.

“I miss having a place to stay all the time. Don’t get me wrong, I love the towns I get to see, and the people I can help. But it’s not easy to go back to scrappy little motel rooms at night. It’s not easy to look at all those humans and know that, no matter how much I try to pretend, I’m not like them. I’ll outlive them, and their children, and their children, and maybe even the towns they’re building.”

Vash shuffled to lay on his side and look at you. 

“I miss being around someone like me. I know Luida named this place Home, and I’m glad she did. But more than this ship, you are what feels like home to me. So… to answer your question… as much as I care about this place…”

Vash was already backing down, getting nervous and letting his eyes drop to the grass. You gently reached out and held his chin in your hand, guiding him back up to you. 

“Go ahead, Vash.”

“... I could leave it behind in a heartbeat if you didn’t want to be here anymore. Wherever you decide to go, that’s the only place I really want to be.”

You wiggled closer and pressed your forehead to his. You wouldn’t let him shy away this time. Your Plant lines began to glow, tracing through your body from your eyes to your toes. Vash locked his gaze on you and began to glow as well. Everything in the dome seemed lighter, more lively; not that either of you saw anything in the moment but each other. 

“I love you, Vash. This place… it isn’t home without you. I’ll wait as long as I have to, but please promise you’ll stay someday. That you’ll stay with me.”

“Anywhere you want to go, Mayfly. I’m all yours.”

You smiled in the light of your shared lines. You knew he couldn’t stay. Not yet. There was too much to do. Too many people and Plants to help. And Knives was still on the loose. Tonight though, all that mattered was you and him, your hands intertwined in the thick green grass of Home. 

Neither of you could make yourselves move for hours. It wasn’t the most comfortable place to rest, but it was as if you’d pulled each other into a trance. 

You got him for two months that time. Every single night was passed in each other’s arms. Every day was spent tending to the flora, running around with the Worms, and wandering Home. Your schedule hardly changed, but having Vash there made all the difference in the world. 

With each day that came and went, you dreaded hearing him say goodbye again. Every time he did, you had a harder time letting him go. It would be selfish of you even to ask, and he’d already promised to come back when things were over, so you held your tongue when he slipped his bright red coat back on and headed for the door. You sealed your lips when he climbed back up on his toma and let his hand slip from your grasp. You furiously wiped away your tears when he disappeared on the horizon and turned to go back inside. 

He’d come back someday. He’d stay someday. The promise he made, whether he could truly keep it or not, was all you could ask of him. All you could ask of a Plant who’d long since cuffed himself to humanity and thrown away the key. A promise you forced yourself to believe in as you burrowed into your nest and sobbed so hard you fell asleep to the comforting calls of your sisters.

[orcelito]

Hm

Something that kinda bothers me with trimax vs tristamp is the framing of Choice

In tristamp, it's framed as this whole big thing where he has to choose between humans and plants. "Who's side are you on?" Repeated over and over again, & he continues to not give an answer because he doesn't WANT to choose. Which in and of itself, I think this is narratively interesting, but like...

Then I think about what the big Choice is in trimax, & it feels kinda cheap in comparison.

Bc see, the Choice in trimax is over whether he should ever take a life. Wolfwood says it, Legato forces it, even fucking Nebraska Dad says it. Someday, Vash is going to have to make that choice whether he wants to or not. He spends over a hundred chapters running from this, REFUSING to choose one life over another, citing that all life is sacred... he really, truly believes this, and he really, truly wants to live by this.

But sometimes in this hell of a world, you really do have to make a choice. And in the end, he's forced to make that choice. One Time, he chooses to kill in order to save someone else's life. It happens only when his hand is really truly forced, but it Happens. He kills someone, and it nearly destroys him.

And we see this during the time where the earth forces have gotten the order to bomb Gunsmoke to combat Knives, Despite people telling them that they've got plans in motion to combat him without killing a great many people. Bc the people on earth many many miles away are more concerned with risk avoidance, so they're willing to accept killing a Lot of people in order to remove the uncertainty & risk to a great many more.

Zoom back in on Vash. He literally passes out from the mental agony of it & goes into a fever dream of all the people he knows that has died. The man he killed was an awful person, caused so much harm to both Vash and many many more people. Objectively, it should not have been a hard decision.

But for Vash, it was.

And that's what really gets me about it all. Vash is a staunch pacifist. He sticks to this despite people telling him over and over again to give up, to just accept that he has to kill people sometimes... And he eventually learns that they were kinda right in the end, but Even Still, after all is said and done, he STILL refuses to give up on any life he could possibly save.

This framing of the Choice is really, truly moving to me. It's a key part of what really made trimax Hit for me.

So tying it back in with tristamp's framing of choice... idk, it just feels kinda cheap in comparison. In trimax, Vash never really has any doubts about the plant vs human thing (aside from when he was a kid, post-tesla). He knows he's a plant. He knows a lot of humans wouldn't accept him for that. He knows a lot of humans would Fear him for that. But he still loves them and never once wavers in his pursuit for love & peace.

Overall, I just really enjoy the framing of moral questions in trimax more, I guess.

[heavensmortuary]

Was sent here by @enigma-absolute

What is Trigun about and especially what do you like the most about it?

Howdy!!

To quickly summarize, Trigun is a post apocalyptic scifi space western about a planet where humanity has fled after earth becomes uninhabitable. Unfortunately for them though, Gunsmoke (the planet) is an empty desert, and life cannot be sustained without the power from angelic beings called Plants. As people try to survive the harshness of their new world, and the many gangs that terrorize the towns, they have another objective on their mind: get the bounty for Vash The Stampede; a terror of a gunslinger who leveled an entire city in one night, destroying everything in his path. Bam

Unfortunately for him, Vash isnt who they think he is, being a kind and often lonely man who is trying to bring peace to the communities wherever he goes as a wanderer. Now, Vash is on the run, and while humanity hunts him down, and his sins chase him down as well, he is trying to stop his twin brother from killing the last remaining population of humans, all while trying to maintain an impossible dream in a place that demands violence; kill no one.

There's many things I love about it, but I think I simply love the characters. They're some of the most compelling lil guys I've ever read about, I love them a lot and Vash is one of those characters you read about and you're like 'damn. I wish I lived like that'. It's funny, it's heartbreaking, it's beautiful. I haven't even mentioned the Christian imagery and themes that are the very bones of the series (Yasuhiro Nightow, the mangaka, is a Catholic, and I wasn't surprised to learn this after reading it aha)

So! Depending on what you like, there are three versions. I always recommend reading it (the entirety is over at @ trigun-manga-overhaul ! Can't recommend enough) and watching Trigun: Stampede along with it. The 98' anime is good, save for some bad characterization and it's way more goofy than the manga. (Stampede gets some characters wrong too, but if the manga is read, the full picture comes into view). So yea! I love this series, it's dear to my heart. Thanks for asking and apologies for this wall of text

[ihadtoposttrigun]

Who's ready for sad fan theory??

All aboard for some sad TriMax feels, spoilers ahead!

Trigun Stampede did a tidy job of cleaning up a few plot holes left behind by Mr. Nightow, esp. the one that bothered me a lot-- how the devil Conrad never died of old age. See figure 1 and figure 2 below, Conrad when he first meets the twins (a bit of hair) and at the time of his death (no hair)

Looking pretty good for a 200+ year old guy. He went from a balding man clocking in his 30s, to IDK, late-40s (or however Nightow feels like drawing him in any particular frame lol). How? Let's inventory what we can be sure of:

Conrad was born and raised somewhere in outer-space, perhaps Earth, perhaps not.

He is an accomplished space-stuff engineer, and a top crewmember of SEEDS, he's brought in and out of cryo sleep for emergencies

Somehow he survived the same crash that killed Rem, and made a comfortable life under the name Count Revenant Vasquez

Knives just shows up in his living room one night to recruit him

However, it did take more than 80 years for Knives to mature into an adult. Eighty! See Figure 3 below, from Vol 12 Ch 5, he still has a relatively boy-like countenance. Don't worry about what he's up to in this scene, shhhhh, it's fine.

So guessing that Knives finished maturing into an adult, found his favorite space fashion, and learned how to manspread on a couch (See Fig. 5), that must have been another 10-20 years, maybe?

Conrad was definitely at July before and after its destruction. He helped Legato pull Knives out of the rubble. That means we have a minimum of ~25 years. So the window of time for entering Knives service is 60-25 years. I'm going to spitball that at the start of the story, he spent 110 years as the Count, and then 40 years as Knives's subordinate. Math: I did it. You're welcome.

He only looks like he's aged 30 years (max) from start to finish, though.... It's somewhat plausible that he could afford to pay for more cryosleep as Count Vasquez on and off for 110 years, but would Knives also let his top scientist cryosleep as much as he wanted for another 40-ish years? (This is not accounting for any special treatment from obvious daddy issues because Knives kept Conrad around as a secret father figure.)

Figure 6: Pictured: Proto-Knives, Definitely

Would it even be that practical for ship survivors/Knives/anyone to just sit on that kind of knowledge/experience for years at a time, in a desperate place such as this? Or maybe... he just wasn't aging. He's a space person who was genetically modified to keep Project SEEDS going for as long as possible. And The Count was an alias created after it became obvious he wasn't getting older.

But you know who was also a top crewmate. Someone who would been also modified to ensure the best possible odds for SEEDS...

It's likely Rem would have also had Conrad's dubiously long lifespan. Rem, and Vash, and Knives (and maybe even Conrad, even though he's a lame ass loser) could have been a family for 150+ years. Or, if I'm totally wrong here, she could have similarly been afforded the same privileged treatment Conrad managed to secure for himself (in the middle of century-and-a-half long crisis, no less).

All this time... they might have been happy. And Knives? He's no dummy. He knew.

What's he supposed to say about people he's not supposed to care about?

[lost-technology]

Red Sauce

Trigun fanfiction Trigun, Trigun Maximum, Trigun Stampede - loose continuity, post-canon, canon-welding.   Spoilers Genfic / No pairings Vash & Food Slice of Life, Worldbuilding (Inspired by my visit to a nostalgic eatery).   Summary: In his attempt at a long rest after his adventures and agonies, Vash the Stampede seeks out a nostalgic lunch of “good old crap.”  Some of Noman’s Land’s budding post-contact gourmands would not understand, but sometimes something cheap can give you a perfect moment.   Also on Ao3 Reviews appreciated.  

Red Sauce   People who got to know Vash the Stampede found themselves surprised by what the man would put in his mouth. He had just the kind of appetite one would expect on a skinny guy adept at dodging gunfire (high metabolism, feed-me-please!), but his love for…food of varying quality could catch a friend off-guard.  Perhaps what surprised people most about him was the simple matter that one as dedicated to peace as he was, one who abhorred killing would, indeed, eat meat sometimes.   Vash could be found apologizing to an egg he intended to have for breakfast, but he also ate shavings of preserved tomas on long journeys as most people did and would not turn down a roast rib of sandworm if it was offered to him by desert nomads who made their living by hunting the beasts.   It wasn’t like any other food on the planet came “guilt-free.”  Vegetables and grains came from flora, which were created by Geoplants.  They, in turn, had to be carefully managed.  A few patches of land could be coaxed to grow hardy crops, but, again, Hydroplants were involved.  Every Plant was worked very hard on this world and while the Electricity Plants were the most often overtaxed into Last Runs, it could happen to any of them.   So, no… there really wasn’t much of a flesh-eating vs. vegetarianism ethical divide in Noman’s Land.  Anything that kept anything else alive came from some other living thing, more often than not sentient and conscious.  Even with the native beings of the planet, the worms – the base of their food chain was mysterious – no one had figured out whether there was photosynthesis at some point in their life-cycle or some kind of mineral-fission for nutrients from the sands, but after whatever starting-point they had, it was all a series of various larval-stages eating other larval-stages until the adults ate them all; Worms all the way down.  

 After Pieces of Earth came to this world, new technologies and cultural ways were introduced to the people of Noman’s Land.  Such ways were usual and even tired and old to Earthlings and various colonies that had a seamless landing and transition, but to the people of a sandy planet born of an apocalyptic event, these things were new, wondrous and strange.   This included the food-ways.   Vash would always remember the first time he’d seen live fish.  He remembered turning over and over again in his brain how Wolfwood would have been freaked out by them had he gotten to see them.  He had been informed that they were a type of creature from Earth and of kinds that had not been driven to extinction.  He’d watched them swimming in glass tanks in an Earth Forces City (blending into a crowd on a tour) and learned their species-names; tilapia, bass, salmon… Salmon sandwiches were one of his favorite treats, but, of course, those had been made of canned cat food.  Quite a lot of food post The Big Fall had been cloned from preserved sources, including sources not originally meant for human consumption, but for that of adjacent animals, pets included.  Cats had become surprisingly abundant – and all traced from a single family of ancestors as shown in their fur.  Most of them were pure black with the occasional orange marking showing up here and there.  (And they were good for keeping the larval worms that invaded people’s homes and barns in-check).  Some towns used them as a source of food but Vash was quite fond of them and, for all his gluttony, would never, ever eat a kitty.   Many Earth-animals and flora that Plants could sustain with minimal effort were being introduced to the land.  Now that humans and Plants were working together in harmony with the former gaining a greater understanding of the latter, equilibrium of sustainability was gained and various technologies and systems introduced by the Earthlings were easing former strains or eliminating them altogether. In other words, successful terraforming was beginning (with plenty of areas left wild, to the sands and to the worms).   This meant that Vash got to meet his namesake (vache, vaca, vas… cow / cattle) and he got to meet those freaky fish. The books and SEEDS computer records he remembered reading in his childhood didn’t prepare him for meeting the real thing.  They were a source of wonder and delight, like any living thing he’d met. In short order, they’d become a major source of food.   (There were, as yet, no rivers to free them into, although there would be, in time).  

 Debates were exchanged between the merits of living Earth animals, cloned flesh – which new technologies also provided and that which Plants had always provided.  Plants, of course, could generate a wide variety of things, including “meat” from tissue and DNA samples provided to them, data fed into them.  That was how it had been for over one-hundred years.  Every salmon sandwich, every plate of spaghetti with some kind of meat in it and every slice of pizza-toast that Vash had ever eaten on this god-forsaken world had been generated by one Sister of his or another.  And, of course, unlike his brother, he had to eat – he’d been “built like a human” in that manner.  Apparently it was his nature as a “draining-Plant,” able to take away pain and heal, to rebalance, but not a conventional generator.  There was an equivalent-exchange issue going on.   Most of the debates that Vash overheard in his travels about newfangled Earth-food wasn’t about ethics, but about taste.  Taste, texture… the cooks of the taverns hotly contested it – what they’d grown up with and had worked with all of their lives versus new things, that which was “fresh” and so forth – the textures of things that had actually lived and moved over what had been grown on a robot-chassis over what had been wholesale generated; the flavor of fruits and vegetables generated under the care of a Geoplant over some Earth-fleet hydroponics garden.  By Vash’s observations, most gourmands tended to favor Plant-grown tomatoes, but beef and fish from once-independently-living sources.   And it was this very debate-thing that brought Vash to the town of Avon, a tiny little village out in the boonies between Inepril and what was once Jenora Rock.  It was nothing more than what was known as a Plant-Station, a “two-Plant town.”  Vash knew them by name – or rather nickname – their “true names,” as it were, being unknowable to humankind.  The people of the town had nicknamed the local Plants “Mona” and “Matilda.”   In the last several years after the Earth forces came to try to “tame the land,” Avon became one of the few havens left where, food-wise, Vash could find the “good old crap.” He didn’t wear the red coat anymore, except when he found himself in the deepest parts of the desert and in need of its weather-resistant properties or if he was involving himself in a fight and in need of its ballistics-shielding.  It was best to try to be inconspicuous, so he carried the thing stuffed in his duffle bag and wandered right through the center of Avon dressed in jeans, cowboy boots, a button-down shirt and a vest and a stupid, stupid bolo-tie. Casual fashion.  A bell on a door jingled as he entered a place called Edvard’s.  He smiled at the arcade machines along one wall – still there, still broken.  The vinyl-padded seat lining plastic tables looked as sweaty as ever.   By God, it had to have been at least twenty years since he’d been here and the place hadn’t changed a bit!   Good, nobody at the counter seemed to recognize him.  Vash was dismayed that he didn’t see old Edvard back in the kitchen and wondered idly if something had happened to him.  He also wondered, with a sinking gut, if it was one of those things that had been his fault.  The dizzying dance between him and Knives had taken a lot of lives in the end.  Then again, people were prone to succumbing to the most random of things…illnesses, heart attacks, cancers, simple wear and tear from old age…And sometimes the institutions they founded lived after them, stubbornly refusing change just as his own body had… Vash the Stampede, beaten and broken and scarred, but still standing, stood waiting for his order in an old restaurant where the only thing that had been replaced was some new vinyl covering old seats and where the arcade machines remained along one wall, broken with a sign warning patrons that they spent their money to try to play them at their own risk.

A paper tray with three golden, salt-encrusted rectangles and cut fries slid across the service-counter.  It was accompanied by a generous cup of bright red sauce.  Vash took his order and sat down at one of the tables, across from the machine that he recognized as “Galaga.”  Some static blips across the screen and a few flickers in the lights told him that Mona had sensed him and was saying hello.  

Mona was the town’s electrical-generator. She doubled as a Hydroplant, but she was wired up to do tandem – one product generated the other.  This was rather rare.  Matilda was a dedicated food-producer – part Geoplant for crops and part cloner.  Vash had seen the dubious lumps of flesh that came out of her produce-chute, sometimes beef-based, sometimes pork-based or other mammal-based, sometimes poultry, sometimes fish – almost always gray and rather slimy, but the people were grateful.

Both of the Plants in Avon had always been well-cared-for.  The engineers here had an excellent understanding of the Sisters, even though, like other humans on the planet, they never knew entirely what they were working with.  The people of Avon were the kind of people who were content with little.  Some might call them poor, but they were never ambitious enough to try to become a large city.  The town had sprung up around the Plants, as most cities in Noman’s Land had, but unlike a large ship-crash where several Plants had been grouped together, Mona and Matilda had been flung out upon impact.  It was a miracle that they’d survived.  The people who’d discovered them knew their fortune and guarded it carefully. The town remained hard to find, was not listed on most maps and was far, far away from any sandsteamer stop.  They – the people and the Plants - were all lonely together.  

Mona and Matilda were among the few Plants that had, for over one-hundred years, truly felt safe among

their

humans.  Vash, himself, had made good on ensuring the continuance of that with visits every now and again.  He’d come out of nowhere to help train new engineers even though most of them gawked “Who the Hell are you?” at him and he never gave them his real name.  The older workers called him “Lex” and just accepted him as “Some kind of Plant-doctor.  He does wonders.”  

Vash dunked a crispy rectangle (it was fish –fried fish) deep into the cup of red sauce and took a hearty bite.  The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Matilda was still making it like she used to and so were her humans.  

The new gourmands of the busier cities would no doubt complain about Vash’s lunch.  It wasn’t “real fish,” not “swimming fish,” just reconstituted, minced up fish, possibly mix-and-match species-base, all made from the slimy lumps that came from the back-chute of a Food-Generator Plant that was kept on conservative power and thus was never forced to make something fancy or “quality.”  It was fried in too much generated-oil and covered in way too much salt.  It needed a sweet and spicy red sauce – something of a mix between ketchup and pepper sauce to give it flavor…

But WHAT flavor!  

That sauce!  Vash mused about the sauce…and the fish…and how apart they may have been nothing special, but together they made for an absolutely PERFECT marriage.  It was a taste he’d experienced nowhere else.  

He had to take a once in a decade or so trip to check on a pair of well-cared-for Sisters who never actually needed his help to get this flavor, this crunch, this spice, this moment.

Nostalgia hit him like that bomb a bounty hunter lobbed his way one time fifty some-odd years ago (he’d dodged the explosion, narrowly and had scars along his left leg from the flying shrapnel).  

He sent a silent communication of thanks to Matilda.  

Vash wistfully thought of the people he’d never shared Edvard’s with.  He’d never brought Wolfwood here.  He’d never gotten the chance.  Avon had never been on their way.  They’d been to many hole-in-the-wall joints together and Vash had shared many of his favorite things with his friend (almost every donut-shop in the Seven Cities, for instance, while Wolfwood had groused that he could barely taste anything, anyway due to his experimentation wiping out half of his taste-sense and his cigarette-habit wiping out the other half).   Vash wondered if Rem might have liked fish n’ chips.  What little he could remember of their meals on the SEEDS ship, they were fairly basic and generally Plant-generated vegetarian, with fruits such as apples rare and precious treats.   She probably would have liked the potatoes, though – and the red sauce.  Honestly, someone could put this on a boot and Vash would eat it.  

Maybe he could bring the girls here – when he saw them again, out of the limelight.  

Avon was special, in part, because it was one of the few places that he wasn’t recognized.  Take off the red coat, muss up his hair and people here didn’t see him or maybe they did, but they just did not care.  Who cares about the Humanoid Typhoon when they’ve got their quiet lives to live and little dingy fast food joints to run?  

Vash savored every bite as he watched the blipping arcade machine.  He did not know when he would eat like this again.  

___________________

END.  

[redundantz]

YESSS It feels SO GOOD to see Vash th3 Stampede and Nicholas D. Wolfwood in action together again! But... I think this episode is the one that highlights my first complaint about the episodes. I don't mind that they're doing things in a different order, I actually really liked that they're introducing Knives and his cult so soon since in the OG Manga and even the show they feel like they came sort of out of nowhere at times... but it's coming at a very high cost that I don't know if I like.

Also Spoilers down below for anyone who never read/watched the OG

A huge part of what makes Wolfwood's character so compelling in the OG animation and Manga is that we don't KNOW he's an assassin up until right before he dies, much less his connection to Knives. He was just a priest who certainly act or feel like a priest and while nobody thought he actually was just a priest he did also take his cover seriously as well. He'd carry a mini confessional around and charge people for confess, share food with passing children, even send his earning back to his church for the orphans there. He actually looked and acted the part of a kindhewrted priest who just happened to have a massive machine gun in his cross and a pessimistic view on life. He was the PERFECT foil for Vash's more lighthearted and naive outlook to challenge him on bis pacifistic views and the best friend Vash could hope for. Which is why the reveal that Wolfwood was working for Knives the entire time and that he was hired to trick Vash and lead him straight to Knives was such a shock. It was why, when Wolfwood sacrificed himself to save Vash's life and they sat down for that final drink together, it hurt so goddamn much and left us all bawling...

I don't see that in the new Wolfwood. I like what I see, don't get me wrong, but it feels like he's missing something and after a lot of thought I realized what it was. Roberto. It feels like Wolfwood was split into two separate characters, withthe more down to earth, pessimistic side we love so much about Wolfwood expressed in the form of the new character Roberto while the more devilish side of him, the side we see when he shows his true face as an assassin and the side of hin that's seen when he and Vash are fighting alongside each other and such, shows up in the form of Wolfwood. That, coupled with the fact Wolfwood was revealed to be an assassin from the get go, makes we worried if that'll take away form the single most complex and compelling character in the series next to Vash himself. If it'll make Vash's one true best friend's eventual sacrifice less impact full as a result

Hello! Yeah, I agree i am really enjoying myself but I was pretty put off by the lack of mystery and how open Vash is about everything so far. a huge part of the appeal of the original anime/manga imo. Especially for Wolfwood like you said. It's basically a major part of his whole character and story! I also agree about Roberto! I actually started to really like him this episode but I totally agree it almost seems like he took some of wolfwoods personality. But I think Roberto might actually get killed and we will have a time skip where Meryl learns to use a Deringer and maybe Wolfwood also grows as a person too?? hard to say tho but i think we just gotta wait and see the whole thing before we pass to much judgments. Thanks for sharing your thoughts!!

[21loveatfirstsight]

Been on my mind for while now

In episode 8, Luida said that all Plants are replica of the original cell, which got me wondering: What is the original cell, or the original Plant? And what happen to it?

Please keep in mind this is more personal intrusive thoughts than theory, so there is no really solid based data or research, just recalled memory. And SPOILER WARNING!!

And you are welcome to discuss but I won’t be able to provide any data or any real answer.

Clearly, Plant are alien to human. I was thinking about maybe Plant is created by human at first, because how well they can manage and control Plant, and keep Plant alive inside the liquid glass. But then i quickly discard that, because how disater it can caused when Plant go into red mode (due to stress or overworking, i don’t know, but i call it red mode for now until someone provide me another term or the official term). And given the condition Earth is in in Trigun universe, which is dying, out of resource or the actual Earth become uninhabitable. So i think maybe while Earth is dying and human go out in the space to search for other planet to colonize, human discover Plant, an alien life form which produce massive energy that they can use.

So the next thing i thought of, is how Plant’s place is like. I used place because i am unsure it would be a planet or Plant just... floating around in space. Like they exist in a hive (just imagine a huge beehive in the darkness space), which made sense to me because how bee-like they behave, or i should said SHE behave. The Plant original place is a beehive-like place/planet, and human manage to observe enough to capture one, which is the original cell.

The original cell is not the highest life form of the Plant species, but a mere worker (like a worker bee). That is why she is useful to human. She produces the energy that human can harvest. And that is why she looks selfless, has little to no own consciousness of her own to human eyes (as in us, reader). For this, just imagine how you seperate a worker bee, modify it so it think you are the queen bee and it works for you, protect you, etc. Still unsure on if human manage to modify Plant. Worker bee Plant could just live to provide to higher life form of Plant species. Human probably have to study it. By study, i mean from peaceful learn and study, or go full nutcase mad scientist, pick your own poison. But they figured it out, and cloned it.

The chain of thought end here, because after this, it all gets messy and tangled with how Vash and Knives behave that very Plant-like despite their personality and everything else, but i can’t get it clear into a full sentence.