#punisheye 15

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@punisheye

Ultimately, it had been Vash's idea. His fault, too.

He'd ambushed the other Wolfwood on short notice, catching him just as he left the house for the start of an errand run. Eager to help, and to walk around the Ward while being snowed on with a friend, he'd decided to tag along with a spring in his step.

Vash is bundled up and then some, his layered and patchwork outfit prioritizing warmth over fashion. His typical shooting glove is covered up with thicker, warmer gear instead; his lost-tech hand stays uncovered, but the pauldron's been left at Home.

He's in the middle of blabbing on about some anecdote set in the entrance town of Umber when his arm cuts across Wolfwood's chest to indicate something amazing. There's a pristine, snow-filled stretch of an empty lot on the other side of the sidewalk.

Like a child, Vash cheers, zipping straight across the empty street, unheeded by any shouts of protest from Wolfwood—and carelessly runs into the undisturbed field of white. Assuming it would act more like sand, his hubristic pace only slows to a halt when he finds himself nearly waist-deep in, evidently, less compact snow than anticipated.

"Wolfwoooood. Wolfwood." Vash's croaky pleas are only slightly muffled by his blue scarf.

Arms lifted up, dramatically awkward and stiff, Vash now tilts his snow-glove back to the priest, making pathetic grabby hand motions at him. His eyes are watery, line of his mouth wobbly with regret. He is very cold.

"…I'm stuck."

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Vash's laughter breaks into a yelp of surprise once he's noogied and grappled with, momentarily a whining flurry of limbs and snow. The moment it seems Wolfwood truly has the Typhoon pinned, however, the laughter returns; low at first, until a sudden eruption of cackles underscores his use of superhuman strength to turn the tide.

"AAAHhh hahahaha HAAAA!!"

He rises up from the snow, impossibly pushing upward to lift the priest above his head, as though the man weighs nothing. With the rush of momentum, Wolfwood's body even jumps a bit in the air before landing back onto the unforgiving clutch of Vash's hands.

The Typhoon tilts his head up sharp to look right at his catch. Even near-unrecognizably smeared with snow and dirt and twigs, he's grinning like he wants to show off all his teeth at once.

"How's about a punchline, Wolfwood?"

And he pivots to make them both face another section of undisturbed snow.

He should have seen this coming. Of course the little shit is going to make this as difficult as he can for him, even after he'd so kindly cushioned his fall!

Snow hits him in the face and he splutters, scrambling for purchase in the cold white around him. The snow is deep, so getting back up is harder than he thought it would be.

"Fuck you!"

Maybe it's the annoyance and horrific embarrassment that finally gets him to his feet, a black shape against the white, snow stuck in his hair and clinging to his coat. Wolfwood stomps over to the cackling menace, slings an arm around his shoulders, and then traps him in a headlock.

Knuckles dig into the top of his head, further rumpling already messy golden hair. He's not actually angry, but he won't let this go so easily.

"You think yer funny, do ya?! Then I'm about t'be hilarious!" Followed by him throwing them both down into the snow, wrestling Vash down and using as much of his weight as he can to pin him.

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The rascal's quick to get back on his feet after being shoved off, a sudden show of reflex and grace that betrays his behavior just the moment prior. No longer at the priest's mercy, wicked excitement bubbles up in Vash's chest.

The answer to Wolfwood's question starts with a devilish grin from the Typhoon, hand reaching out as though to help the other man up—then snapping out to the side, relentlessly spilling clumps of snow onto him instead.

Vash is too busy laughing maniacally to construct any proper response, but at least he sounds like he's having the time of his life. In other words, 'not a damn thing'.

Okay, so, initially he'd kind of been planning on just letting Vash do an ungraceful belly flop right into the snow, but something makes him change his mind last minute. Probably because he doesn't want to have to listen to more wailing... or because he'd just feel bad. Guy's obviously in panic-mode over a situation he got himself in.

Wolfwood's arms open as Vash's shadow is cast across the snow.

See, Wolfwood has an incredible sense of balance built up over years of combat training and having to haul a machine gun just as heavy as him around (it took a lot more time to hone his balance without it, since the lack of its weight had thrown him off for the longest time). Walking around in the sands, where there's barely any chance at even footing, requires some degree of coordination.

Snow is a little bit of a different beast, though, and Vash practically flops right on top of him when he land in his arms, causing Wolfwood to stagger back before falling over with Vash still held firmly in his arms.

"—Cold!" He shouts. Freezing snow soaks his hair and bleeds into his clothes, some of it falling into his face, and he's shoving Vash off of him so he can sit himself back upright. Thick white flakes cling to the dark of his hair. He shakes his head around like an old dog. He's pretty sure he's getting snow where snow shouldn't be, so he works on standing back up.

Errands barely done, and he's already wanting to go back home and bury himself in blankets. Tch.

"Jesus. Fuck. Okay. What'd we learn today, Blondie?"

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The suggestion is so shocking that Vash's wailing stops at once, dumbstruck expression plain on his face even as the fence still wobbles him around.

Leave him?!

No way; he just promised! Surely any oath from a man of the cloth, however small, is meant with sincerity...? Eek. Better not to give him time to change his mind!

It turns out to be less of a jump or a fall, and more of a leap that he takes; limbs splayed, a flying squirrel the size of a grown man flings itself at Wolfwood's arms, open and waiting(, or not).

Vash has had to make more dire leaps before this, anyway!

"Catchmecatchmecatchm—"

Unimpressed, Wolfwood watches Vash perched on top of the fence like a little monkey—but without the actual grace and coordination when it comes to climbing. He's reminded a little of when Kuroneko somehow jumped into an open cupboard and climbed to the top shelf and couldn't figure out how to get down, resulting in her wailing so loud Wolfwood thought she was in pain and rushed to her aid.

"Cut the dramatics," Wolfwood grunts. "Come on now. Either ya get down or yer stuck up there forever, what's it gonna be?"

Snow must be daunting. When he first set foot in it he was equal amounts awed and terrified. Wet, cold, heavy. But really he just thinks Vash is being a little melodramatic. The distress seems genuine enough, at least, rather than trying to appeal to his emotions.

"Jump down and I'll catch ya. Sound good? Promise I won't let ya hit the ground." Just a simple trust fall. And if Wolfwood doesn't catch him, at least the snow will give a soft landing. "If not, well, guess I'll leave ya to figure it out by yerself..."

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"Hey. Hey!! I… I mean it," Vash threatens desperately, before sputtering in higher-pitched fluster as the big bad wolf approaches. "He'll—he's gonna give you hell…! F-for bein' so scary for no reason, and also!! VERY. Mean t'm—"

(Splat.) Snow scatters against the Typhoon's shoulder, wounding his pride enough into making him hang limp while pouting.

"Ug." Sniffle into dramatic sigh. His brow furrows, and he looks up to the other as though he's got more to shout out of petulant anger, but then he relents, begrudgingly: "I'll behave…"

The wire extends steadily, lowering Vash just enough to rest his boots on the top rail of the chainlink fence overseeing a snowbank in the yards between himself and Wolfwood. He seems unsure of wanting to retract the cord entirely just yet, clearly imagining that the other would simply throw him right back into the snow again, or pull him down into it. He's still flustered. How did this go so wrong?

"I dunno what landing in the snow is like! I didn't wanna drown or whatever! That's why, okay?!" He means to explain himself, but it comes out as an exasperated whine anyway. "Look, just… Just turn around and walk back, I'll—whoa! Nonononono. WAAH!!"

The slightest threat to his balance makes Vash crouch against the top of the fence, snow-gloved hand wrapping around the railing. His next poor decision, made by senseless instinct, is to retract the cord of his left hand to join the grip against the metal. The fence wobbles, aggressively shaking the snow off of it.

"I'M SORRRRYYYYY….!!" Vash wails at the sky as he helplessly wiggles with the fence, holding onto it for dear life.

An awful crow's cackle rips from his throat as Vash goes soaring through the air. He would have safely faceplanted in the snow if Wolfwood aimed right, but seems like he has other plants which involve slamming right into a brick wall.

"You woulda landed in the snow if ya just let it happen, dumbass!" Wolfwood stomps through the snow like some kind of ice giant. He's got snow boots on, but it's deep enough that it's starting to slip inside through the tops. Yuck. Cold.

He stops about three yards from where Vash is dangling and folds his arms.

"Yer gonna tattle on me? Whaddya think he'll do?" Wolfwood seems entirely unconcerned, actually. He'd love to see the little guy run and tell his Vash just what Wolfwood did, as if this isn't just a normal night for him.

Wolfwood reaches down and scoops up a handful of snow. He begins to mold it into the shape of a lumpy ball and then hurls it at the younger Stampede.

"You just gonna hang there all day?"

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"Flatteryyy? No, nooo, that's just how it is! L-look, Wolfwood, I don't think now's the time to. Um. Humor any more impulses, so whaddya say we just forget this whole thing, and…"

"... I'll be nice to ya."

"(What does that mean)," Vash mumbles exasperatedly, mostly to himself if anyone, but his words barely hang in the cold air before he's sailing through it instead. The Plant's reflexes are more than capable of adjusting faster than any human could, but his environment doesn't give him much to work with.

SNAP-zzzzzzzzzzzt. There's a line—ejected from his outstretched wrist—makes contact with the adjacent building's wall, but it's a ways away—

—Then, (thud.), and "Yowwww!! ... Uff."

Vash had managed to crash against brick with the side of his lost-tech arm (along with that side of his face, too), and without the pauldron installed, the pain of the impact sings through his arm.

He's still bouncing against the wall a little. To remedy that, he grits his teeth, boots and other hand reaching out to brace himself steadily still—before pointing accusingly down at the guy he failed to properly prank.

"You're tryin' t'KILL me!!" The Plant narrows his eyes, other hand returning to stubbornly stick himself against the wall.

"I'm tellin' Vash."

"Flattery ain't gonna getcha anywhere with me." Wolfwood shakes Vash a little bit. Snow that'd been stuck to him falls off in little flakes as he does. Something tells him Vash was up to no good—but Wolfwood's clever. Mostly. Really, he's just good at sniffing out Vash's bullshit... either one of 'em.

So he's got Vash at his mercy. He could be so nice and just fling him over his shoulder and walk them back to the sidewalk, but...

Wolfwood is a nice guy, honest, he can just be a little devilish sometimes! Demon priest, terrorist priest, he's heard it all. He tilts his head, staring at the pink-faced Stampede in his hold. Contemplating.

"Naw... I'll be nice to ya."

He pivots in the snow, drawing Vash closer to his body, preparing to carry him back into the more shallow snow and up to the sidewalk again.

And then after three steps he spins back around and launches Vash clear across the lot.

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...Okay, so Vash had completely planned to flip Wolfwood into the snow the moment his hand was taken, throw snow all over him, and cackle until his lungs gave. Whatever fight in the snow that'd happen afterward, he'd deal with.

So he hadn't accounted for this move at all. Anticipating for Wolfwood to follow through with his own plans, Vash's lips are pinched behind the scarf, face scrunched, as if he'd licked a lemon.

"Uh."

His arms flail once, rather ineffectively, then stay limp.

"Aah! You could be cool about this, instead! I mean, you don't wanna do all thaaaat, ahaha!! Right? Right?? R-remember all the good times we've had...? Hey, I ever tell you about how you're an incredibly beloved pal o'mine, Wolfwood?"

Plans today, since he had the day off, were to go pick up some light groceries, cat food, and a bag of soil to re-pot a few of the inside plants that had grown a tad too big for their little homes. Everything he needs he can get in walking distance, so he wasn't going to bother with the motorcycle. A walk in the snow is nice, anyway.

And now...

They haven't even gotten to his first destination, and the little guy who had cheerfully invited himself along has already found himself in a bit of a predicament. As Vashes tend to do.

The very mean part of him considers just walking off and letting Vash figure it out himself, but he'd also feel a little bad if his friend caught a cold from being stuck out in the snow like that. And he's looking at him with those ginormous wet eyes, looking a lot like he's about to burst into tears.

"I told ya to slow down," Wolfwood scolds as he trots out into the snow. He's taller, so the sparkling white doesn't reach as high up as it did for Vash, but he still does sink heavily into it and his stride is a little awkward. But he maintains balance with ease and comes up beside him. "You couldn't just turn back the way ya came?"

Both hands scoop Vash from his armpits and haul him out of the snow. He holds him up in front of him, letting him dangle there, kind of like what he does with the cat when she's being bad. What did his own Vash call it? Air jail?

"I could throw ya back in. Thinkin' about it."