#cyor 2024

[deathreversed]

It had all started with a new flower appearing in Nier's garden. They didn't quite match the aesthetic she was aiming for, and so she removed them and thought nothing of it. But it hadn't taken long for her body to start itching and for roots and stems and petals to start sprouting from on her limbs. It had all happened so suddenly, Nier's only thought was The Island Stars, again...

And now it hurt. It was like something was clawing at her insides, something that wanted out. And if Nier opened her mouth too wide it felt like it might slip out and ruin everything for her. So she huddles in an alleyway, far too far from the safety of her home, tearing at the flowers that cover her in the hopes that it will provide any relief at all. Ripping them off doesn't hurt that much- she's felt far worse before.

The sound of footsteps behind her makes her head whirl around, revealing her wide, bloodshot eyes. "S-stay away..." she mumbles, looking away from the new arrival. "Get away, I don't... You need to leave before something bad happens..."

@hanabisays

[bitemedotmp3]

This feels right. Powers, wings, regeneration; even though the [NULL] command still isn't totally restored, it's nice for Uzi to be able to sort through her own code without seeing the BLOCKED BY USER: [UNKNOWN] popping up when she tries to do cool stuff. That's really all it takes for her to side with NULL (didn't even think about the names matching!), a couple of cool gifts and a middle finger raised towards the Island Stars. Call her shallow, but eh. She's in high school, what do you expect?

All she's gotta do is keep the cables intact. No one told her if it had to be all of them or not, but she's taken up post inside one of the underground parts of the city, where a thick length of rubber and wiring snakes its way through the dirt. And the best part about being a drone is that she can do this all day, literally.

Perched upon a rocky outcropping, Uzi watches the only way in or out of her chosen station. It's only a matter of time before something happens, right? In the meantime she's playing Bubble Bobble.

Wait, there's footsteps. Time to get to work.

With a wave of her hand, a chunk of rebar dislodges itself from the wall and sails through the air, embedding itself in the floor right in front of the new arrival. "You're good there!" calls Uzi, not descending. "Right where I can see you, yeah? Don't want you getting any ideas!"

Hold on, she recognizes this one. "Oh, hey Jersey! Sorry about almost turning you into a kebab. Just kinda a hectic time. Can't be sure who you can trust, right?"

@indomitableblackdragon

[deathreversed]

Worker drones were made to obey humans. Of course, this particular command line had long been excised, rendered useless by the sudden lack of humans on Copper 9, but somewhere deep in Nier's programming, there is a desire to be wanted. To be needed, to be necessary. To do well and be kept around, maybe even rewarded if she performs exceptionally. It was a process she was gently and not-so-gently reminded of repeatedly by her parents until their untimely demise. If Nier were a little more introspective, she might think that this severe-looking woman reminded her of her mother.

"Oh, um I-I should be okay for a few more hours with that, so long as everything stays normal..." She doesn't expand on what 'normal' means, as she's been told that oversharing is just as bad as undersharing. "It's just... Something happened, and it affected my consumption rate. That, um... Happens, sometimes."

The lack of dust doesn't help with that; when she can't afford oil, Nier can usually scavenge some from a dumpster or scrapyard, but she's been having difficulty finding any lately. Things like that simply happen sometimes, the city is always shifting in ways she can't predict, just like her own self. She looks up at the woman with wide eyes, because while a bottle of oil is already a dear kindness, offering even more makes Nier's core thrum in her chest. It's something she's still not totally used to, how kind the people of this city are compared to the inhabitants of Outpost 13.

"I-I'm Nier!" she says, more loudly than she intended. Her cheeks color as she holds a hand to her mouth, and then bows her head again. "S-sorry, I didn't mean to shout... But you'd really do that for me? You really don't need to, but... thank you."

And now she smiles, a soft little thing on her lips as her body finally relaxes. Whatever happens, she's being taken care of now, even if it means traveling into the intimidating upper levels of Fibonacci. Some part of her thinks it's not appropriate for her to be there, but in the company of this woman, surely it would be fine.

She steps a little closer, wringing her hands before her chest. "I'll just follow you, then... Don't worry, I'm faster than I look..."

Amidst the whirring of a system that is seconds away from shutting down, it was hard to tell what that robot had replied with, but she could make out just about enough to tell that it wasn't an ambush, thankfully. At the very least, she doesn't need to be too concerned of bad company showing up while she is distracted with this… upon closer inspection, rather human-like robot, especially as it plead for her not to leave. Huh. The wonders of radial island.

While she wasn't surprised to see the flip in demeanour over the offered oil, it did surprise her a tad to see just how swiftly the bottle vanished from her hands, as the stranger consumed it — with the packaging. "Ah." That's certainly one method to prevent public littering.

Interesting, was it, to observe not just the warnings fading out, but the parts she previously found strange for their non-metallic attributes, now retracting, too. She was staring attentively, and — was that eye-contact she'd make with the tail? Strange. "Seems like you've run out of oil, but I lack any further details."

Jay stood up when she did, dusting off her shoulders in an unperturbed manner while waiting for the poor drone to regain her balance. "You have not," she'd confirm. "No need to thank me."

What an apologetic little girl. Jay may not have an issue with it, but surely enough, no one starts off this anxious; it raises the question of what caused it in the first place. Not that such kind of information is any of her business, let alone of importance— but even a woman like herself cannot help but be curious about the little things, sometimes. "Not so fast. First things first; how much time did the bottle supply you with? I'd be surprised if one alone somehow matches your usual, expected quota."

If she intends on finding out anything from this girl, she'd better first guarantee there'll be no encore; her briefcase only carried one bottle. "What is your name? Let's get you out of here. We'll get you more oil at a business on a floor higher up."

It'll be a quick find. Jay had long familiarized herself with the businesses in level 1, in the interest of her… side-hustle in trade. Where you can find weapons and machinery, oil couldn't be much further. "Don't worry about dust; it's on me."

[blankticket]

@punisheye

The door was open.

Or, more accurately: the door had ceased to exist. Strange, delicate mists had crawled in from the side of it, eating away at what was physical a moment before. Where an unimpressed guard had sneered down at Vash, now there was the swirling unknown.

Without hesitation, he pressed on past where he was confined. His body had moved before he can think to note how scary this all is, before he could have the good sense to fear how the mist could be endless, his world eroded. Vash hasn't quite come to accept this complete upending of the laws of reality—it's just that he can still hear the Plant screaming for help, somewhere out there.

Turning his head this way and that to find her, Vash nearly bumps his face right into a wall of black. Instinctively, his hands come up to prevent the collision, although they're awkwardly successful by the restraints around his wrists.

The little boy winces, totters back a step, looks up at Wolfwood. His cuffed hands pull defensively toward his chest.

"Ah…" Now he's getting scared.

Wolfwood doesn't look familiar in any helpful way—he's clearly not a part of SEEDS, or a face he recognizes from Ship Five's cold-sleep registry. But he's also the only adult around… The only being around, besides his Plant brethren.

The assumption he'd be brought back into confinement by this man makes tears bead up in the corners of his eyes. He's got to be brave for her sake.

Vash's face wrinkles with effort, tiny lungs gathering air for his demand: "Let me meet the Plant!"

[punisheye]

It's cold. It's really cold.

His thin black shirt and shorts do little to protect him from it. The chill seeps through the tight fabric and into his skin, right down to his bones. The fog is dense. He's never seen anything like it before. Just read about it in books. Their planet didn't have water to evaporate and then bring back as rainfall, or to cover the sands in a haze.

It makes him feel damp. He wishes he was at home, away from this. Maybe it's just another test from Chapel. Maybe that old man is watching him, somewhere out of sight. If he could figure out what the test is meant to be then he won't be as likely to walk out of here with bruises on his ribs or a bullet in his gut.

His hands grip the gun too big for his body tight. He's shivering.

And then he hears footsteps. The boy jerks his head up, eyes wide and alert and—

Oh, it's just... some guy. He doesn't recognize him. Well, he kinda looks like him, but maybe he's just got one of those faces. Maybe he's part of the Eye, too, and they just never crossed paths. Nico had learned to keep his eyes down in the presence of the adults there, so that's what he does.

Looks down, looks away. His hands hold the gun tighter. He waits for the man to leave.

@punishercross

[sunliteve]

Sunlight poured into Café December, casting a healthy glow on vibrant plants, books, and patrons alike. At one of the tables near the wall, Hiyori held a soothing cup of chamomile tea to his lips. Beside him was a cup currently ignored, the one who had ordered it browsing away amongst the books.

When the door pushed open, Hiyori's eyes snapped over to examine the new arrival. His already racing heart picked up speed, and he eagerly waved Constantine over to their table.

"He's here," he said to Nagisa over his shoulder, bringing the other's attention back from the worlds bound between the covers. Nagisa shelved the book he held at the moment, red eyes joining Hiyori's on the newcomer. He smiled softly.

That expression eased Hiyori's nerves. As much as he'd wanted this meeting to happen eventually — and he had called Constantine about this almost immediately — he hadn't been prepared for it now.

"Good morning~ Thank you for coming to join us so quickly!" his cheery greeting hid it better than his tightly-crossed legs. With a gesture to his companion with his free hand, he continued: "This is my dearest friend and family, Nagisa! I may have mentioned many things about him, but it doesn't measure up to the real thing, does it? ♪"

Nagisa bowed his head. "...Yes. My name is Nagisa Ran. You are Hiyori's partner, I've been told."

Hiyori's face reddened a bit, but he held his tongue.

Still wearing that warm smile, Nagisa took his seat at Hiyori's side. A distinctly ethereal feeling emanated from him, like an angel playing at being one with humanity.

@uwps001

[punisheye]

"Sorry?" Wolfwood echoes, because he can't even begin to guess what Vash would be sorry about here. They've been over this so many times: Wolfwood's end was not his fault, what Chapel did was not his fault. Even if everything led back to that one single moment in time where ships fell from the skies like stars, how would anyone ever know what it would lead to? "You got nothin' to be sorry for."

Vash had been there, had saved him. He's got mud caked onto his face and in his hair, he looks a damn mess and wants to find his way back home and clean the muck off, but Vash is shaking and there's tears rolling slowly down his cheeks — Wolfwood can see them even if Vash won't turn completely to look at him.

"Thank you," he says. "For savin' my skin there."

It'd been so quick. In a flash Vash had made himself a barrier between Wolfwood and the old man. He's… so strong, the strongest person Wolfwood's ever known. The bravest, too.

"We should g—" He's cut off by hazy movement in the mist. His head jerks in the direction of it, just a little ways in front of them both.

"Spikey," a voice, his voice calls, but it's not from his mouth. Two figures materialize in the mist, dirty and blood-stained but alive. The mist turns into colorful confetti, raining down on them like snow. "Spikey, you—"

He watches himself, clothes torn from bullet holes and collar stained red and shoes tracking blood, reach out to grab the phantom of Vash by the shoulders.

"You didn't haveta come all the way out here, idiot, yer brother's still out there, you—"

"And leave you to fight all on your own? Not a chance!"

They did it together.

They're going to make it.

No tragic end, no wailing of grief, no dirt under nails from digging a crude grave. No, it's a what if. What if Wolfwood hadn't run off alone, what if Vash had gotten there earlier. What if. What if.

"Vash," he says, voice quiet as their echoes bicker and then stumble into each other in a tight embrace, as the phantom Wolfwood (alive, heart still beating strong, not dying; in love, happy, warm) laughs, tears streaking down his cheeks. "Vash, let's get out of here."

★ --;; The hand on Vash's shoulder can definitely feel how he's shaking all over as soon as it lands, adrenaline and horror that had already been rising as he'd stood there between master and pupil now crashing into him like a wall. The hand that had remained steady regardless now joins the rest of him with it's trembling, sights falling as it lowers and his finger pulling back off the trigger.

The sunglasses he's been wearing in replacement of his own, the ones Wolfwood had given him, don't serve to be as much of a shield as his old ones. When the mist clears, even just the bit, it's easy to see how wet they are Each word out of that corpse had been just as piercing as one of his own bullets, acid dripping through his ears and burning all the way through him.

And even though the body had been blown away, crumbled like the sand it had been left to rot upon, whatever had taken the place of its blood still remains there, an oozing, stark black mess on the concrete, an unignorable neon sign of what he'd done.

Staring down at it, the damn cracks, a spiderweb under the pressure of it all. A hiccup of a breath, a hard sniff, mouth in a crumpled line and the first stubborn tear rolling down his cheek, past the dark circles beneath his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he croaks, audibly trying to keep himself together through the wobble in his voice. He shouldn't cry. Shouldn't be crying. It's not his place to; that man hadn't hurt him like he'd hurt Wolfwood, his family. And Vash had failed him, too; had been too slow when he'd been needed most, when Wolfwood had gone on without him, all because of what Vash had done.

It had been what he wanted, hadn't it? For Wolfwood to understand that love. And then Vash had gone and been late. Had nearly been so here, too, hadn't he?

If he speaks any more, he'll break completely-- not able to even explain himself. All the anger has drained out of him entirely; he just feels string out, even if he can't be right now. Can't even get himself to turn.

[witchoftrinity]

CYOR 2024

Throwing Mika into Shore Event! Because BA won't get her a summer episode. She's going to have a terribly wonderful time on Foss Isle trying to enjoy herself while trying to avoid getting Jurassic Park's by the natural wildlife! All while still handling her issues every normal high schooler has.

Since its getting closer to the end of the year I'm gonna cap it at 2! I'll also probably send a DM your way if we haven't interacted before to get an idea of how your muse is handling it.

[revivalbeast]

Her breath comes in deep heaves as she sprints through the mist, her new clothes and shoes muddied and and torn as she keeps saying "No, no, nonononono-" This place was supposed to be safe and they shouldn't be coming for her but they seem to be coming for her as though she's him but she's not him and that's somehow worse than fighting them.

They're glitchy and they scare her because it's wrong and she's not supposed to be under attack and they shouldn't be working with the people who want to shoot her but they are and the mist hurts and she feels the bullet rip through her one after the other and she falls over in front of the nice fox she met.

She gets up, blood coming from her mouth as her head reforms.

"...I don't like that." She mutters, shaking her head. His name...

She can't remember, but she spits out a tooth as it grows back.

"That's embarrassing. They shot me in front of you. That's really embarrassing." Her hair grows back and her forehead reforms and the bullets are pushed out of her chest as the giant bugs and men with guns surround them.

@soulsbelow -> CYOR 2024 -> Mistified

[bitemedotmp3]

CYOR 2024 Info

For Choose-Your-Own-Rerun 2024, Uzi will be headed to Security Breach Pt 1! She thinks both sides are lying, but she's not so much pro-GPU and NULL as she is anti-Island Stars. She's fine with risking erasure, and is mostly looking to just inconvenience the Stars as much as she can while she can. In other words, she's trying to prevent people from cutting the tubes!

So it could either be a fight scene if your character is allied with the Stars, or they can have a philosophical discussion if your character is also with GPU. Either way, like this post for a starter! Cap of two!

[smithysouled]

The doors had been shoddy work, if he's being entirely honest. Annoying, although much of this is annoying, but at least it's farm more comfortable now than it had been previously. While he was grateful it seemed to be winter even prior to the blizzard, but the blizzard made this place quiet, and while he was lonely without his company and kingdom, at least the loneliness of the tundra was something he could handle.

The butcher's section was lovely and deserted, and he could feast in peace. At least, until he hears a familiar voice.

Scoffing, he rolls lazily toward an aisle, large form obvious even with the snow coming into the store.

"You again."

"I will not eat you, yet." A joke, but he doesn't know if it comes across that way. "Plenty of meat in here. Plenty of food, still, too." He picks up a piece of meat in his claws, waving it, full from his own "hunt".

"You look cold."

His breath smokes out of his mouth as Till allows himself a brief moment to gaze at the dazzling array of lights in the sky. Many of the defining moments of his life seemed to be marked by meteorological events and he can't help but wonder how he will look back on this astrological spectacle.

The wind cuts through the coat he'd stolen when he'd ransacked that clothing store and he looks down so he can wrap his scarf tighter around his head. The beautiful lights make visible the empty, snow-covered street as Till shuffles in ill-fitting boots towards his destination.

The entrance to the grocery store is shaded in such a way so that Till doesn't see ruined doors until he's in front of them - glass shattered and metal twisted from it's holdings. Whatever or whoever did this is much stronger than Till - probably bigger too - but as he's wracked with violent shivers, Till knows he won't make it the two blocks down the street to the second closest grocery store. Grabbing one of the jagged strips of metal he holds it with both hands, the cold of the alloy biting through his thin gloves.

"...Hello? Anyone here?" He calls out, not really expecting an answer.

"...Anyone who doesn't want to eat me, hopefully?" He adds sardonically for the sole purpose of hearing someone (anyone) speak.

@smithysouled

[deathreversed]

CYOR 2024

Nier is having a very bad time in amogus A Crocus Among Us. She's got a lot of secrets to keep, things she doesn't want anyone knowing about. Although she has a very dedicated will, she'll reach her breaking point before long, and the truth of her past will come out. But she'll do whatever it takes to make sure it stays a secret.

So if you want to trade secrets and maybe get chased by Death, like this post! Cap of two!

[sunliteve]

"...Oh. Hiyori, I see stones in the window there."

"Do you? I've never looked in that store." Directed by Nagisa's focused stare, Hiyori drew closer to the display window of one of the shops along Fibonacci's surface. This one seemed to sell gemstones and accessories that prominently featured them. Led along by a green leash, Bloody Mary pranced up beside the two.

As he stood by the glass himself, Nagisa held a hand up to his chin thoughtfully. "...I would like to step inside, but I don't know if Bloody Mary will be allowed in."

"We can always come back♪" Hiyori noted cheerfully, and then his eyes caught on a low movement along the same path they'd been following. A golden retriever was approaching! And a well-dressed man, too, but the dog was what initially had his eyes going wide in appreciation.

"Wow~ You have a beautiful dog," he addressed the man with the golden retriever. Nodding confidently, he stated, "Well-groomed, certainly!"

Mindful of both his dog and the other's, he didn't move from where he stood. The little yorkshire terrier moved further behind him rather than any closer to the strangers.

@atroposqine

[deathreversed]

It's progressing so suddenly. Nier's usually good at managing her body's mounting needs, that craving for oil that ebbs and flows with her emotions, but so much has happened over the past few days that she hasn't had a chance to sate her thirst. And that's putting aside all the times she's needed to utilize her Solver abilities, so her only thought before conscious threads become background processes and hunting subroutines take over is I thought I had more time.

But even the single-minded instincts of a predatory drone are only when there's something to actually hunt, and it's only a matter of time before Nier is reduced to a shambling mess, with high temperature and low oil warnings hounding her HUD. Again? murmurs some unheard voice buried deep inside her programming. You really are bad at this.

"S-s-sorryyyyy..." she mumbles, voice laced with static. "I p-promise I'll do bet-tter..." Her body falls against a wall, leaving crimson streaks as she settles into a crumpled heap.

>[TEMPERATURE CRITICAL, SYSTEM FAILURE IMMINENT. NO OIL, MORON]

She can barely register the sound of someone's voice at her side, someone blessedly worried about her. Nier's looks up, her visor shifting between a multitude of warning symbols, her eyes, and a red, triangular glyph. "M-my fault-t-t..." she manages, her gaze drifting down to her shaking hands. "Messed u-up aga-ain... Pl-lease don't leav-ve me..."

Is she dying? Is this what it feels like? Should she be scared? She isn't scared, she feels... empty. Why is that?

But in an instant, her chemo sensors explode with notifications, and her entire body tenses as her head snaps up and her mouth opens in a wide, fanged grin. "Oil..." she echoes, tongue lolling. With a surge of energy, her body lurches forward, and she snaps the bottle out of the kindly stranger's hand with her mouth. No time to waste on maintaining her public image, she simply swallows the whole thing at once, her teeth cleaving the bottle into pieces as the precious liquid pours into her gullet. Once it hits her core, the organ begins to pump again, and in less than a minute the warnings vanish. A few wordless groans come from Nier's vocal synthesizer, and her wings retract back into her body with a lurch. Her tail does the same, but not before fixing the good Samaritan with a curious stare.

"What... What happened...?" she mumbles, pressing a hand to her head. "I thought... I should've been okay for a bit longer..."

Her body still trembles as she rises to her feet, bracing against the wall as she attempts to stay upright. Finally, she looks up into the face of her savior with vision unclouded by warnings or static, and her eyes hollow out. "A-ah, you... I didn't hurt you, did I? N-no, you... You saved me? Thank you..."

The memories come back to her piecemeal as her mind tries to put the distorted images together into something usable. "I-I'm sorry, I was just low on oil, so my body... It's not important, I guess..."

Nier gives her fingers an experimental wiggle, feeling full function come back to her body. A single bottle of oil isn't enough to put her totally out of danger, but at least she's back to normal operating levels now. So she turns to the human woman and bows her head, hands folded in a submissive gesture that's been browbeaten into her over and over. "I hope I didn't inconvenience you, but thank you for your help... Is there anything I can do to repay you? I don't really have much dust, but... I-If you need any help with anything, I'll try my best..."

When you think of the word charitable, surely enough, Jay - someone who speaks constantly about maximizing profit - will be the last one that'll come to mind. Those in partner- and enemy organizations alike know her to be ruthless and disciplined, just like a true member of the Port Mafia should be. While that perspective of her is accurate, it's not the full story.

That story is reserved for those within the Mafia. A ruthless lady who has zero tolerance for disobedience, yes, but one that is exceptionally loyal to anyone who finds themselves on the same side as her. While she'll never explicitly say as much, the organization - in particular her unit she's gone through thick and thin with - is family to her. She may fail in helping with concerns regarding emotional needs, and doesn't open up much about her own, but — she's sure to express her appreciation through actions of aid, even when the risks involved are high.

Now living in Spirale, she's still there for her subordinates if they need her, and counts on them for the same vice-versa, yes, but ultimately she now mostly just lives for herself as she waits, as there's no trace of the organization she's been loyal to within Spirale. That could change over night if she should return back home or if the executives founded the Port Mafia in this world, too, sure, but for now— she gets by as a finance manager.

…

That isn't to say she's now entirely uninvolved with the trade of sketchier products, though. In fact, it's why she's been traversing within the ground level of Fibonacci; a meet-up involving a deal that has already proven successful, and all that was now left for the day was for her to return home. At the very least, that was the intent.

As she turned a corner, the following sight— it was difficult for her to discern what exactly she is witnessing. It seemed to be a robot of some kind, writhing on the ground as all kinds of… error messages lit up in neon red, but that didn't match up with its batlike wings, that very much weren't metallic like the rest of its body. Was it in pain? In danger? Its surroundings were damaged; was it ambushed, or was it the robot's doing? With the only light source being the red LED, she couldn't tell whether it was some substance like oil that ornamented its surroundings, or plain blood.

Street smarts dictate to get out immediately, and if not, to at least pull out a weapon in preparation. Jay didn't do either. The robot wasn't someone she knows, let alone someone she'd care to help, and yet, she felt something tugging at her. There's no way in hell that thing has anything to do with her homeworld or the Port Mafia, and yet. and yet. Call it intuition, call it a hunch. Whatever the case, Jay couldn't brush off the feeling that it's related to that strange memory that has been plaguing her; the memory with all the wires and skyscrapers just like this sight.

It's not like her to ignore a possible lead.

"Are you okay? Have you been ambushed?" she'd attempt to communicate, checking whether it is responsive, as she hurries to the robot to kneel down next to it. Squinting, she could pick up at least one of the alerts warning about high temperature, and so she'd open her briefcase in a hurry to find something that may help to combat that issue. All she found was a bottle, which, perhaps - by dampening cloth - could help to cool down its metallic surface, but when she opened the bottle, all she received was the stench of disappointment. It was Oil. Why - pray tell - did she carry a bottle of MOTOR OIL with her??

Wait, no. That might be good. It's a robot, after all.

"Here-" she'd hold out the bottle to the robot while a drop of sweat would run down her neck. "It's Oil."

@deathreversed

[blankticket]

This Vash's given many pleas to Wolfwood, now; prostrated himself against the floor of his own home to unsuccessfully avert a vengeance so dedicated, it crossed worlds. He's demanded of Wolfwood to take control of his own second chance at life, to disentangle the shape of their childhoods. To rediscover his own faith in himself, in humanity; to let go of the constant and useless rumination on suffering. All of this sentiment—it's the same as what he's asked of his twin brother.

If Knives had disappeared that day, for good… Vash isn't sure whether he'd be doing any of this for Wolfwood's sake.

Of course, he's forgiven him; those earlier, candid words with Maria still ring true, still came from his heart. But Wolfwood's still as fearful as he had been since the last time they'd talked. Unwilling to lay the Punisher down, to reach his hand out to help or to be helped.

Yet he still led that child to the Plant. It's easy to imagine he showed that kid a great deal of kindness, even if that kid never existed.

People need time to change.

"…Don't let all your memories of me hurt you." The shape in the fog is fading, fast. "You still owe me a drink, anyway."

Vash keeps backing away from him, his whole body seems drawn tight, just from his silhouette. Is he scared? Has Wolfwood truly gone that far? Is there no fixing it? He died still thinking of himself as a monster and murderer, and that comes rearing its ugly head once more. The form of his friend shying away from him like this is devastating.

Devastating is an understatement, really.

The other wants him to have faith in himself and the people he loves. Wolfwood wants that, too; he's trying. But just this is making his resolve crumble. Does Stamps even really have faith in him, then? Acting like he wants to turn tail and run away, despite his words.

He can't help but think: does his own Vash feel similar? Is there still a flicker of doubt, or disappointment? Is he scared of what Wolfwood might do, too?

I know what you're capable of. Wolfwood doesn't know what he means by that. Isn't sure he wants to know what he means.

Both trembling hands move, palm up so he can look down at them. For a few fleeting moments he swears he can see blood staining them again, making his stomach drop. It's gone soon enough, but he still feels like he might crumple up and break apart like wet tissue.

What can he even say? The fight is quickly draining from him. Any argument dies before it can reach his tongue.

Heat builds behind his eyes. Wolfwood chides himself for turning into such a crybaby since he came to this place. It makes him feel like the little boy he scarcely got the chance to be.

...Wolfwood says nothing. He just tilts his face towards the ground and takes a wet breath.

[punisheye]

"Nico..." He repeats, trailing off. Well, he looks a little like him and they kind of have the same name, which is weird. Could just be a coincidence, though, but he's a little too anxious to really think about it. It's probably nothing.

Nicholas pulls the jacket on. It stinks of cigarette smoke and— something else right underneath it. Warm. Like another person lingering.

"Miss Melanie's still there. I never heard of you n' I was there for a long time 'til..." This. Dropped into the hands of... something he doesn't understand at all.

The boy swallows.

Did she know? Does she worry about him? He hopes she's okay. Her and his little siblings. Nico sniffles, but does his best to put on a brave face.

"They said we'd be fixin' up churches," he says quietly.

"Come on, I didn't toss ya that 'cause I thought you'd make a fashionable coathanger." The kid still retained that politeness he knew was drilled into them, so he'd need permission to be able to feel like he could actually wear it.

"Come on, this way. Desserts out here - not warm this time'uh day, but better'n this shitshow." He didn't know the mist would follow them, but he started to walk in the direction he'd hope would lead them out of there, listening carefully for anyone following them.

"My name's..." Complicated, to say the very least. "Nico, Nico Watanabe. I'm a bit ahead of ya, so I expect ya don't remember me at all, but," a pause.

"Got recruited from the same place you did. Miss Melanie hangin' in there last ya saw her?" Better to connect them with an adult the kid trusts, he thinks.

And he hopes Hanabi wouldn't mind him borrowing her name.