#familiar stranger;;forgivenpunishment

[bigboylivio]

| L/R |

Why does it feel like all they can do is wait? Whatever happened, whoever did it could be watching them, and Livio's still convinced it was Knives. A Knives, if there's a possibility it was more than one... And he was about to voice that sentiment when Wolfwood spoke next.

Something for him to do, even if it only helped in mundane ways, was better than nothing. He watched the interaction with Vash's unconscious form, another squeeze at his insides, watching him. It's not too late in this world to make sure he survives. He wanted to make sure that happened. Even if its not supposed to.

In his eagerness to do the task, he launched upright from the chair hard enough that the legs scraped the floor a bit. Jaw clenched in an 'oops' expression, he gently set the chair on its feet and sighed. At least it didn't break.

"I can do that," he nodded, concentration making him look so serious it might have been a little funny. "I-I don't eat spicy stuff, mostly. I want to be able to taste what I'm eating, not burn my tongue out of my mouth..."

But he understood the point the other danced around, it made sense and he tried not to grin too big as he gave him a thumbs up. "I'll just knock when I come back, yeah? Won't just barge in, cause that seems unwise."

Livio picked up his hat where he'd let it fall earlier, and slipped out the door without another word, and only one last glance at where Vash lay. The errand gave him time to think, wrangle his emotions better, and allowed the same for Wolfwood.

As he exited the inn, he looked at the money he was given and had to chuckle. Some things done change, at least, between worlds. That was good, he had some money on him, too. Maybe he could bring back a little more than just food to help out.

Wolfwood doesn't do more than watch and listen as Livio speaks about his story—particularly about his Vash. Black hair? The tired eyes and age make sense, kind of, but Blondie isn't Blondie without the blond. Weird.

But yes, he and his Vash are essentially on their own in this reality. The only thing he can think of is whatever that doctor on Ship-03 did must've had some kind of effect on him... well, it's that or the independent is genuinely fatigued from...

—anyway.

"Guess for now we just wait for him to wake up before making any judgement calls," Wolfwood shrugs, rapping his fingers on the surface of the table, "Why don't you go get us some grub for lunch? S'what I sent Needle-noggin out to do before all this happened. I was about to go check on him, actually."

He stands up, then hovers over to where Vash is lying down. Nonplussed, Wolfwood gives the man a couple of light slaps to his cheek—not too hard, more like gentle patting.

"Oi, gonna take back the money I gave you," he gives Vash the fair warning, even if he's still unconscious, then slips a hand into one of his jacket pockets to scrounge for the twenty double-dollars he lent him. If he takes a few more so that Livio can get something to eat... no one needs to know.

Successful, Wolfwood steps back to where Livio is sitting and hands him about thirty double-dollars.

"I'm gonna go smoke. Get whatever you're hungry for; they like their food spicy around here, so watch out if you're sensitive to that stuff."

(... Because he is definitely sensitive to 'that stuff,' not that his brother needs to know that...)

[bigboylivio]

| L/R |

So Meryl wasn't glued to them like she had been, the way Vash had always mentioned them... And the other one, the tall girl he couldn't remember her name--She wasn't here at all? This were very different indeed, then. That left them with very little help, and Livio didn't like that at all.

The hesitation was noted silently by the big guy. He can tell its a topic with open wounds, just by his words and reactions. Then he saw the eyes and cold dread spread across his Livio's skin. That gaze was eerie, unsettling, even set in a somewhat familiar face. That it was the first time he wasn't pointedly glaring eased some of the surprise, but...

"That's not really the point--" he said in response to trying to find someone to help, because it was true. As long as Wolfwood was able to, with or without him, he hoped he'd still try. "You don't have to--to take me with you wherever it may be, I'm just..."

Breathe. Don't fight about it. "I only hoped there were options you could go to, anyone that would know what's happened to him, why, if there's something that would help but..."

Livio ran a hand over his short hair, a sign of defeat and frustration. "Clearly we're both shit out of luck and don't know what we're doing. I don't know how I ended up here, I was traveling in the desert before I walked into this town and met him, but I didn't know I'd stumbled into another world..."

A short silence passed, and then, "I ran into this Vash a couple of days ago. I-I thought he was the Vash I knew, except once I was up close to him, he was..."

The big guy made a gesture with his hand to suggest a shorter height. "The Vash I know is taller, looks... older, somehow. You can see it in his eyes, sort of heavy and tired."

Sadness crept over his expression, then. "Like he'd seen too much, felt too much, and was still soldierin' on because he had no choice. And the thing with the b-black hair, b-but I don't think... Well, his hair's mostly black, the last I'd seen him.. Anyway."

He nodded to the bed, a worried glance at the blond who lay there. "It was like this one was just, more alive, younger, different. Different coat, kinda different hair. He explained I must've been looking for a-a different Vash and the conversation was just as confusion to me then as all this has been now. Didn't expect to run into him again so soon, just... I wasn't gonna leave him just lying there. I'll f-figure out how to get back to 'my world' i-if that what it is, after all this..."

"You don't know the half of it. It was one hell of a test," Wolfwood scoffs to the side, as if this man in front of him is not, in fact, his brother. In a way, he isn't; this is not the crybaby that he had grown up with. But he is a Livio, so he's... more of an estranged brother? Not that Wolfwood can even fathom what that's like. Even an opportunity to live in a non-nuclear family was taken away from him before he had any say in it... all based on some fancy bloodwork and phony standardized tests.

The undertaker can only scratch the back of his head at Livio's line of questioning. It seems more bashful than vexed, like there is an answer, but he sure as hell doesn't like it.

"Eh? Shortstack? I haven't seen her in months. Almost a year. No clue who you mean by 'big girl' though. Shortie is... short." Petite, he can hear her saying. Blegh.

"There is... one place we could take him, but..." Wolfwood hesitates, as if speaking about the place is an open wound—and it kind of is. "We didn't leave on good terms. Well, Vash did. I wasn't so lucky, unfortunately, heh."

Finally, he removes his sunglasses and sets them on the table, revealing his startlingly white eyes—pearl on pearl, only the vague outline of irises hinting at anything surrounding his currently pen-tip sized pupils. If it were a simple lack of color, his eyes would be more gray or blue... but no, he had to get fucked up by another group of malicious doctors.

Wolfwood makes eye contact—is this the first time that he's done it without glaring?

"I don't think you're lying. If you were, you'd be able to get a sentence out without blubbering through it," he smiles, but it's hollow, "Still, I can't trust you enough to take you on a meet-n-greet with everyone we know. Not that we can really access any of 'em."

Getting antsy, Wolfwood leans over to check on Vash from a short distance, "How did you meet Blondie, anyway?"

He pauses, then rolls his eyes, "This Blondie."

[bigboylivio]

| L/R |

Too trusting. Just like that, even though Livio was ultimately grateful, it was too easy. If he really were bad and planned to get up to something, it was too easy to get Wolfwood to put that gun away... It reminded him of the Vash he knew well, who had fall asleep in his presence even though he'd just witnessed that fatal fight a day before... Too trusting.

Livio pushed his hat off his head and scratched at his short hair with both hands for a second, just, releasing the tension and trying to refocus himself. What a bizarre turn. But nothing with any of them was ever ordinary, was it? He took the offered chair, and straddled it, bracing his arms on the back of it with a sigh.

Once Wolfwood had started talking about what happened though, Livio wasn't sure he wanted to know... because its like being told you're dead, but you're sitting right there--Right. And there he was sitting right now, alive, when he knew his own brother in spirit was dead, too. Just two war machines, unable to stop the fates of those around them, huh?

Livio's expression settled into open surprise and confusion while he listened. So many things he doesn't understand. Regulator? And back then, he... he never would have gone after Wolfwood...

/Pffftt YEeeaaHH OKAY, like that woulda killed us, huh? He's got no idea! I bet Master Chapel's got'em back already.

Shaking his head, trying to clear it, deny Razlo's bullshit at the same time.

"No, I ... don't blame you. I wouldn't trust me either, as much as that sucks to say because--" He just shook his head again, rubbed a hand down his face, rubbing tears from his eyes before they could fall. Is there a world anywhere where they could fight side by side and trust each other, not be thrown against each other senselessly?

"Th-They have to have done it to--to test you. Sent him after you to, be assholes, or just to see what would happen. I can't even begin to understand it... I was isolated the entire time I devoted myself to.. To the Eye. I didn't see him again until... Well, until Knives started his crusade, and M-Master Chapel had other priorities at the time."

Wait--was that too much? If he talked too much, wouldn't that mess something up somehow? How was all this supposed to work, anyway? The histories didn't line up, so, does that mean their future might be different, too?

"E-enough about that, though, there's more important things!" he said, waving off the moroseness with a forced note of determination. "Is there anything you know to do to help Vash? Anyone we can ask? I'm surprised Miss Meryl and the big girl aren't on you guys' tails... They seemed particularly devoted to sticking around and doing their part, too..."

'Been a while since someone's called me crybaby.'

'The Vash I fought beside against Knives and Legato.'

A few things are adding up for Wolfwood and he's not enjoying what the sum of them all is. It seems they're both mourning, because he's sure as hell that there isn't a single 'other world' out there where he'd leave Vash's side. Maybe it's an unspoken 'and you,' but it's more likely that he's...

"... Stop lookin' at me like that," he sighs again, re-holstering his weapon, "Blondie never told me about any of this shit, but there's a lot of stuff I don't know about that he'd probably try to hide from me anyway. You look and act like Livio, but not my Livio, so I guess the story adds up."

Wolfwood shrugs, then pulls out the two chairs from under the room's table. Both of them are a bit too large to sit normally at it, so instead, the undertaker just leans back in the chair with his legs outstretched.

"You sure say some weird shit though," he hums thoughtfully, letting his gaze wander over to Vash to make sure he's okay. Then Wolfwood recounts that final moment of hope when he'd finally broken through to his brother before he...

"Right... so..." he clears his throat, searching for the right place to start with the events on the sand steamer, "They sent you—Livio—after me while we were riding a steamer to JuLai. We fought, he made me dose up a few times, then Needles convinced me to try breaking through to him. Broke his weird... regulator... thingy... and then—"

Wolfwood's tone and body language slumps to something morose. Defeated.

"Looked like everythin' came rushin' back to him too fast. He offed himself, then fell overboard. I couldn't—I didn't stop it. Can't even go find the body, since... it's in the middle of the Sand Ocean, somewhere west of Hopeland. If the gunshot didn't kill him, the steamer probably tore him to shreds."

He scratches at the back of his head awkwardly, trying not to remember the despair he felt in that moment. Despair that he very quickly had to dispose of in order to focus on his job.

"So you can understand why I put a gun to you when you showed up, you big lug. Was only fair, since that's the way 'you' greeted me when we last saw each other. That and... Vash, he..."

Another sigh.

"We've been through a lot this past week and a half or so. Can't trust anyone anymore."

[bigboylivio]

| L/R |

Something about the care and worry Wolfwood put into checking Vash warmed Livio. A bittersweet hurt and comfort to know that even with what they have been put through, he could still care for someone so much. More tears glossed his eyes and he cleared his throat, taking a breath. Relearning emotional regulation was especially not easy when in situations that made it even harder to hold onto his tears.

Wolfwood's tension at the mention of Legato and Knives also had Livio tense, waiting for his response, his reaction. Wondering if this was the turning point from wary conversation, to possible hostility--

My brother is dead.

Numbness hit him and spread through his frame like cold rain. The tears halted their threat to fall in the shock of the muttered statement.

My brother is dead. I killed him.

The big man's lips parted, but nothing was forthcoming. Even Razlo seemed shocked into silence, and yellow eyes stared, wide, at the other. He was dead in this world. And maybe, somewhere deep inside, he knew and understood, maybe that was a mercy. Better than what he tried so hard not to recall with vivid and cruel clarity everyday, every time he slept. Livio's hands curled into fists, drawn in against himself as if trying to hold himself together.

My brother is dead.

It repeated over and over, nothing else had room to exist, even when Wolfwood spoke again. He took a sharp breath, like he'd stopped breathing for those heartbeats between. What he said began to penetrate the numb, but not before Wolfwood had turned to take Vash away--

Last chance to turn around and walk away, crybaby.

The nickname startled a laugh out of him, that turned into a choked down sob. Stray tears did break free then. Crybaby, indeed. And whatever Wolfwood thought of this situation, he was giving him a chance to 'talk business' as it were. To help. To put himself to good use, rather than roaming aimlessly as he'd done in recent history. He hoped.

My brother is dead.

He turned, seeing that Wolfwood had stopped, waiting. No way was he going to turn away. This Wolfwood's Livio may be dead, but he wasn't gone, in spirit. Not while he was here and willing to do his best.

Livio followed, still putting caution into his movements. A large fellow aware of his size and strength and trying to tread carefully. Wanting to acknowledge the unspoken realizations, but not sure how, he fumbled for anything to say.

"You know, its been... a while since someone called me 'crybaby'."

Wolfwood quickly takes Vash from Livio's strong arms, and it's not hidden at all the way he frets over the unconscious blond like something precious. Not spotting any marks or injuries suggesting foul play, he takes a thumb and gently lifts one of Vash's eyelids.

He frowns as he checks Vash over, content to (attempt to) ignore the phantom that handed him off—but then the ghost keeps talking.

The undertaker freezes up, tension flooding through his muscles like wet cement. He perks at the mention of Legato and Knives, re-furrowing his brow in... confusion? Fear? A mix of the above?

Who is this guy?

There's a long pause after Livio finishes speaking; Wolfwood couldn't un-clench his jaw if he tried. He's sure he misses a breath or two. This man is real. This... Livio...

"My brother is dead. I killed him."

It comes out a mumble. His distant gaze is cast downwards, analyzing each plank of wood underneath the man's boots as though they can tell him something. Then he sees the Double Fangs and—

"... If you want to talk about business, then follow me. Last chance to turn around and walk away, crybaby."

Without offering much else in the way of comfort, Wolfwood cradles Vash in one arm and picks up the Punisher with his other hand. His cigarette rests listlessly between his lips, and his sunglasses barely hide his expression.

Beginning to walk up the stairs, he pauses without looking back, as though waiting.

[bigboylivio]

| L/R |

Livio stepped cautiously closer as he was scrutinized by Wolfwood. A little further from the clerk who looked bewildered and concerned. His guns were visible that close, in their holsters at his hips, and though they were familiar, they were also… different. The shape and style the same, but the technology in them looked less advanced. A curious difference.

At the words to hand him over, Livio was prepared to do just that, closing the distance for Wolfwood to take him. He swallowed hard at the mention of... Someone. Yeah. He wasn’t used to this other version of people thing, not much anyway, but he couldn’t even begin to wrap his mind around there being… another version of himself. Later. Talk about that later. If there was a later.

“Th-There was some other weird shit going on, I dont know if it’s related—The radio near by cut out with static, the street lights popped a few times. I wouldn’t have realized Vash was there but he stopped so abruptly. J-just went ridged all over and everything went back to normal and he collapsed.” Livio’s voice grew softer, concerned about letting too many people hear the oddness happening could be connected to a seemingly normal person collapsing in the street.

“What if—“ Livio made a face, suddenly scared to voice the theory that occurred to him. “What if it’s Legato or—or Knives? I mean.. That seems to be a likely factor, doesn’t it?”

It was such a gamble to mention either of their greatest enemies, who they once worked for, Livio had no idea whatsoever how this world has played out, how different things were—He very well could have sealed his fate with this Wolfwood.

/Good thing you’re made of sturdier stuff, if he does decide to shove that punisher up your ass, dumbass.

The big man clenched his jaw at that mental comment. Not helping, at all, thanks. “Look, t-take him, go wherever you think is safest, b-but if you need help, I’ll be near by, yeah? Neither of them are going to be easy opponents.. I’ve—I’ve seen enough of what they’ve done to know that for certain.”

He swiped at a rogue tear that broke free, trying desperately not to remember who’s blood had been spilled to free him at last from the clutches of evil men like Knives, Legato, and their master, Chapel.

“I get there’s nothing I can say that means you’ll trust me—Can’t blame you at all, really. I just wanted to help. Making up for the bad I’ve done in my past, you know?” Livio’s expression took on a little stronger determination, a strength given to him by his own Wolfwood. Something he wouldn’t take for granted.

Yeah, okay. This guy is definitely one of them. Still, if he's trying to use Vash as a bargaining chip...

Ugh, if he was a bargaining chip, would he really be doing this in the middle of an inn? I guess this is the least likely place for things to get violent...

But why does this guy look like Liv?

Wolfwood can't help the way his glare softens into a concerned sneer of scrutiny. He can hardly keep his eyes off of the man—the way he blubbers is strikingly familiar. If this is some kind of... puppet, or... clone... or something—it's cruel. He wouldn't put it past the Eye but...

Can something like that even do something this... intelligent?

To the outside eye, he appears to be brooding—wrapped up in his thoughts, not sure how to process anything. They would be correct. He does not know what he's doing.

"Alright, well... hand him over then, I'll check back in and get him some more rest."

Probably at a different inn...

"Don't gotta tell me who you are. I get it," Wolfwood finally exhales smoke to the side, then holds his unoccupied arm out to take Vash, "You just remind me of someone who was—someone. That's all."

Looking at Vash more closely, it's even clearer how not-okay he is. The man might need more than some extra sleep, water, and food—he might need to go back to the ship and that is not happening.

...Unless it has to. But he really, really does not want it to come to that.

"He was fine this morning... what the hell happened to him...?"

[bigboylivio]

| L/R |

Lucky for him, he had another mind not cowed by the sight of Wolfwood looking the Punisher over, assessing if he was imminently about to be attacked for holding an unconscious Vash. That protective angry glare was so familiar he wanted to laugh and cry at the sight of it.

/Relax, dumbass, just answer him before he shoves that punisher through your asshole.

Right. Vash is the thing to concentrate on right now. Yellow-gold eyes turn down to the form cradled carefully in his arms. He really did seem childlike, so small seeming bracketed by Livio's beefy arms.

"I-I'm--" Did he reveal who he was, or try to lie?

/Lie to Nicholas? Can you think of something stupider to do? He's the one person that can always call your bullshit, crybaby.

"I-I saw him collapse from across the street," better to just speak what he knew, worry about the who he was part later, if he could avoid it for now. "I didn't see anyone around him, he was--he looked odd, blank, and fell out on the ground. I swear that's all! I wanted to make sure he got somewhere safe, not just laying in the street like that."

Livio bit the inside of cheek, holding in the tears he felt stinging his eyes whenever he spoke honestly, emotively. Regulating his emotions since--since everything that had happened with him was a work in progress. "Crybaby Livio" indeed. He wasn't sure what he was going to do if Wolfwood didn't believe him. He got the sense that Razlo might have a thing or two to say if he didn't keep a rein on himself in that case.

After the events that had unfolded a few days ago in Snake Rock, seeing Vash in anyone's arms, unconscious, pale... it immediately sets Wolfwood on edge. He was just self-conscious about the yellow-green bruises around his collar, but now there's a bigger problem on his hands.

Then he analyses the man holding Vash, and things go from bad to worse. With a furrowed brow, the undertaker opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. Wolfwood can sense the strength in this... stranger... knows that he's not right, shouldn't be here, but that's impossible.

Livio is dead. Worm-food. Taken out on his own terms, because the weight of guilt was never something he should have had to bear.

It's his fault—Nico's fault. Nico is dead, just like his brother.

Seeing this silver-haired man, even as bulky as he is compared to his string bean of a brother... there are far too many coincidences. The tattoos, his eyes, the way he stutters...

No. It's not possible.

Wolfwood clutches the Punisher's straps tighter, his fingers tense enough to tint purple. White eyes go ice cold as he makes eye contact with the large man in front of him, his brows lowered in an accusatory, distrusting glare.

"Who are you?" he asks through his teeth and a cigarette as calmly as possible (which is to say: not). "What did you do to him, and how did you find me?"

[bigboylivio]

| L/R |

As Vash remained unresponsive and limp in his hold, his concern for the Plant gnawed at him while unwanted commentary filtered from the back of his mind, he did his best to ignore it.

Livio turned back toward the inn, considering it IS what it is--that was a good place as any to ask about him, and anyone who might be with him. As headed toward and into the building, he went through a list in his head of who was... 'safe' that would be with or looking for Vash.

Miss Meryl was the first name to pop into his head, followed by Miss Milly, who was nearly always with her... They would be easy enough to spot, surely. It wasn't likely to be the people from the Home Ship, he wasn't sure how he knew, but that just wasn't likely.

When they met before, he'd mentioned meeting Wolfwood. A pang hit Livio at the idea of seeing him, even if it wasn't... HIS Nico-nii, alive. A bittersweet thing, but one he wouldn't ever begrudge this world. Maybe they would do what his hadn't.

The big man shook his head to clear those thoughts as he spoke to the clerk--explaining he'd found Vash passed out, asking if anyone had been with him, where they would be. The earnest concern Livio showed seemed to convince them he meant no ill intent, and as they were about to give answers to his questions, they spotted someone behind him. Instinctively, Livio turned, and tensed to see exactly who he'd hoped to find. (hoped, but hadn't been prepared for--)

"Y-You are--" he snapped his teeth closed at the stutter, knowing nothing coherent was about to come out of his mouth, and a judgmental snort echoed in his head. The Wolfwood he saw was both different and the same. He couldn't have mistaken him for someone else, but also the familiarity ended there, something about him was unique to him, and confusion tied the big man's tongue.

"I f-found--I was trying to--Vash needs help--!" Livio finally got out, knowing that no matter the struggle he was having, those words would make the most sense. He gently gestured to the armful of Plant he held.

@forgivenpunishment (passing the torch your way!)

Permanent location or not, the Plant was definitely a lot safer in the arms of someone with some familiarity with who and what he was (who was admittedly a quasi-stranger, sort of, but still! He was fond of him!) rather than the alternative of getting found by... well. Pretty much anyone else.

Vash's body was light and cold, even through the thick materials of his jacket... and with his complexion shocked white and an eerie stillness to his form, onlookers might've even mistaken the poor thing for a fresh corpse the larger man was escorting.

He was breathing, though. Shallowly, but actively. Alive.

His eyes had fallen completely shut on the way up into his current position, head now resting heavily against Livio's body. It didn't seem like he was going to be waking up anytime soon... which meant there'd be plenty of time to look around.

At least they weren't in the middle of nowhere, either-- seems like the blond had been on his way either towards or out of an inn when he'd been struck down...