#thr 7 plantfell

[deadlydevotion]

Gold eyes are so wide the orbs themselves might just fall out and roll away and Legato would bless the loss of vision. He wouldn't have to stand here helpless and watch as the corpse of his friend - the one he shot a hole straight through, the one who's blood is sticking to his skin - wraps fingers around the throat of the man he loves more then anything. The fingers on his own neck, wrapped around the front and back to keep him still and limp in the way only he himself knows affects him this way, tighten.

"Watch. You did this. I have to protect him." His own voice hisses in his ear.

'Take care of yourself,' Knives tells him and the scream echoing in his head tries to tear free of his throat. Its caught and held by the hand blocking his airway and only a faint wheeze escapes but he does his best to scream along with Stampede.

He can see the twisted logic of the Revenant, the need to protect his Master from anything that could taint him. He can see how his other self would see him as eroding that which makes Knives so far above them. He can see it and he hates that he understands even as Knives' eyes roll back in his head and tense muscles twitch before stilling, going limp and quiet in the corpse's grip.

And then Stampede charges, slams into them both, taking all three of them to the ground with another explosion of feathers and wings. Breath suddenly finds its way back to his lungs only to get slammed out again as he's thrown against the ground but those fingers are off his neck so he shakes off the back spots at the corners of his vision and kicks out, trying to free himself from the mass. It's not nearly as effective as he'd like, not while his whole body is shaking violently, not while he's half blind by tears.

The Colt is still in his hand, cord attached to it digging into his arm and the limb below the elbow has long gone numb.

He kicks again, struggles against the hold, grabs the cord hanging from his arm and yanks.

"Gun-" he wheezes, then reaches his threads into himself, forces a full breath. "Your gun!" He all but shrieks, batting aside the threads that try to wrap around him. There's no one left for him to protect now, only himself and Stampede against the undead monster. How long will it be before he tears them both apart too?

"Yes Vash, your gun! You've killed me once, what's one more time?" The Revenant laughs, equally as pinned, equally as unable to fight his way out of the feathery pin. He's hardly even trying, just enjoying the horror he's wrought. "What's three times even? Kill both of me, it would be a mercy! Why leave the pathetic pretender to suffer while his little friend and Master are dead? Put us out of our misery! Two more shots to the head while we're pinned! Scatter our brains across the pavement!"

"Shut up!! Shut the fuck up!! You're not me!! I won't be you!! You killed them!!" Legato screams and claws at the feathers to try to get at his undead doppelganger, gun in his hand immediately forgotten in his grief-terror-rage. If he can just kill it, smash that face as easily as putting a fist through a mirror, maybe he won't have to be that. Maybe he won't see this thing he'd become in his dreams. Unlikely but he can damn well try, if only Vash would let go-!

@amoirsetpacis @punisheye

Even with Little Vash's abrupt exit, there's still almost too much going on, or maybe it just feels that way because Knives is avoiding processing the crumpled pile of of red on the ground or thinking about why Legato and his brother are now covered in so much crimson. His heart torn between taking solace in Spirale's unique form of reincarnation and the younger plant's warning to not trust it's reliability.

For better or worse, the Revenant's rant ends up being an anchor for Knives to focus on. Each word is a dagger in his heart. None of it is unjustified, and the plant finds himself at a loss for words. A state made worse by the living Legato's quiet pleas whispering in his mind. He has no apology sincere enough for the dead, and no way to aid the living.

Then that pile of red begins moving. It stands, and staggers towards him with no will of it's own. Even if he'd realistically never arrived early enough to save the younger plant, guilt and frustration still causes his guts to churn uncomfortably. If only there had been something he could do. But, there wasn't, and now there was nothing he could do to stop his quickly approaching end.

As slowly cooling fingers wrap around his throat, his gaze shifts past the corpse's blank face to the living Stampede, and a choked noise of despair bubbles out of his throat and forces it's way past the unfeeling hands. The plant knows that look intimately. It isn't quite as violent as a Last Run, but it is unmistakably the decay that threatens to come for all of them. How long does his brother have left? Hours? Minutes? Either way his twin is far past the point of no return.

I should have stayed in bed, Knives thinks to himself, but immediately regrets it. Even if, objectively, his attempt at interfering was only ever going to result in providing another corpse for the pile.

His end almost certainly guaranteed, Knives spends his last moments smoothing out the edges in any way he can. Hoping the living Legato is still listening, Knives directs a few stray thoughts his way with a glance. 'I'll be back,' he promises. 'Take care of yourself, I'll be back in a day.'

Then his attention turns back to his decaying twin. Given the lack of reply earlier, he's not sure how much of a connection they still hold with the state he's in, but Knives doesn't dwell on it. Instead, he spends his last few fading moments shouting reassurances down that tattered mental link. Vague statements promising that everything will be okay, and that they'll recover from this.

Even if the words don't make it through, he hopes that their warmth will at least leave an impression on the other plant, and provide some comfort in Vash's last moments. If nothing else, they let Knives feel like he contributed something as his consciousness fades and his body slacks until he's just as lifeless as the corpse strangling him.

[deadlydevotion]

Legato is covered in blood. His coat is soaking it up greedily like a dying man who's found an oasis in the desert, pristine white blossoming red like the petals of a flower. His ears are ringing and a distant, detached part of him isn't sure if it's the shock or the fact he just fired a very heavy gun in an enclosed alleyway.

He can't scream. He can't even breathe, every muscle of his body feeling frozen solid in a sheet of ice. All he can do is watch the thin trickle of smoke rise from the barrel of Stampede's gun as Vash- his friend, that was his friend he'd shot and killed him so close so close his blood was all over Legato it was never coming out-- falls to the ground with an unceremonious thud.

He's killed so many people. Watched as he forced them to kill friends and family, to rip their own hearts out of their chests, twisted them up into complicated knots just to see how they'd break. He's killed people he knew were entirely innocent, contenting himself with giving them the escape from life that he'd been denied.

Their blood never burned, the sight of their body never imprinted itself on his retina, the empty thud of their corpse never stuck on a loop in his ears.

His hands are steady in the hold of the monster as he lowers the gun, the ache in his arm from the cable cutting off his circulation is a distant hum. He's not sure if the screaming he hears is someone else or the noise he's making in his head. He doesn't even register the hot tears that spill down over his cheeks.

Feathers erupt and bat him away, to be caught by the grip of the creature as they back away from Stampede. The Revenant's face is gleeful, delighted as he watches the reactions to his handiwork. It's only when his gaze shifts to Knives that the manic smile drops away, replaced by a wide eyed, wild stare.

"My loyalty, my devotion... it meant nothing to you. Nothing at all. I am no less a vicious spider among butterflies then any other human. Why... why does he have what I was never allowed to reach for!? Why now when it is so far too late!? I am dead and gone, body rotted away and eaten by worms! Why do you see him!?" A hand reaches up to wrap around the living Legato's throat, squeezes a faint wheeze from lungs only just remembering they need to draw air. "Why does he deserve what I never did!?"

'Knives,' comes a small, utterly broken voice in the Plant's mind, Legato not left with the will to manage more of a flex of his power then that. 'Knives please...' Legato doesn't even know what he's begging for, only that Knives is the last safe bastion in a world that's ripped itself apart in less then a minute and like a child he wants for nothing more then to run and hide in the only arms he feels safe in.

He wants to go home. He wants to wake from this nightmare back in bed, let Knives soothe it away with his weight and warmth.

Why did he even wake up this morning? Or any morning? Why did he make Knives spare him in that moment he thought he'd given up all will to live? If he'd died there like the rest of the tainted vermin this wouldn't have happened at all.

Movement catches his eye as red shifts and stands, red like flowers, red like blood, red like the coat the corpse is wearing. There's a hole blown clear through his chest, shattered ribs and minced organs visible as empty eyes turn to Knives. Legato lifts his new meat puppet and has him advance.

"Don't worry Master, I'll save you from the taint of this filth. No unworthy hands will touch you again." The monster focuses all his will on the two, letting his hold on Legato fall in favor of fingers pressed into places on the back of his neck that instantly evokes limp obedience, too well-trained to immediately resist and too far in shock to manage his powers. Even Stampede is released in favor of holding Knives still so Vash's dead fingers can wrap around his throat and squeeze tight.

"It's alright, you can join me Master, let me bask in your presence again."

@plantfell @blankticket @amoirsetpacis

Everything happens so fast. It's almost like being in the eye of a hurricane, everything happening around him, but not quite touching him. It's so damn frustrating. Even after almost five months, only a fraction of his power has been returned to him. Barely a fraction. In the grand scheme of his life time, it wasn't that long ago that his mere presence would have been bring the fight to a standstill. Now all the pawns continue to dance around him, almost all ignoring his presence.

All of them, except Legato.

Both humans call out to him, new and old mixing together in a nauseating harmony. It reminds him that the bloodied doppelganger, though he may not be the Legato he's come to be so intimately familiar with, he's still the one he created. Raw power isn't necessarily what he needs to bring to the fight.

Or maybe there's nothing he has to offer. Before he can fully form a thought on what to do or say next, he feels the tug of wires pulling at his limbs. As he painfully resists the control, an almost forgotten anger flares up in Knives' chest, and the plant glares at the Revenant with the rage he failed to call upon when he first arrived. How dare a mere human so flippantly take away his agency. How dare that human be one supposedly loyal to him! Biting words bubble up in Knives' throat like bile, but they die in his throat as the gunshots pull his attention to Legato, his Legato, and Little Vash. Two reminders of the fact that his rage and indifference is the root cause of this horrible play. It's not the solution.

"You're right, Legato!" Knives shouts as he tears his eyes away from the terrible scene unfolding to give his attention fully to the Revenant. There's some doubt that he even still wants it, but if there's even the slightest chance that it might help, he'll give it freely. If not to completely stop the attacks, then to at least distract the ghost and provide time or an opening to the others caught in his webs.

"Your so called inferior reflection taught me that. He showed me the strength of your loyalty. I didn't see you before, but I see him now, and I see you, too. Stop this fight, and we can go home together! I can show you what we've built, what you've always deserved to have."

[deadlydevotion]

Vash yanks him off his feet and swings him around like a ragdoll and its only the Revenant's intimate knowledge of his- their body's lithe grace and range of movement that keeps him from tumbling entirely. He's moving again not of his own accord within a moment, yanked along like a puppet on their invisible strings.

He's not in control of anything here, he doesn't even have control of his own body and the thought is ice water in his veins, catches in his throat and makes him choke on his next breath. He's fought so hard for control over everything but the master he chose and now he's again no more then a doll for someone else to play with.

"Knives!" "Master!" Identical voices call as Knives descends, one cut off with the crack of metal to the side of his head while the other seizes the opportunity.

"I can't free more then one at a time," the living Legato shouts, explanation for his attack as quick as he can manage. A blow to the skull might rattle the Revenant but he doubts it will keep him down. He's proven right when he's yanked into motion again, darting between the blonde and the undead as Stampede finally moves. "Vash has a minute-!" He's cut off as his jaw snaps shut with an audible 'crack!' of teeth.

"You don't deserve to address our Master so intimately! You deserve nothing!" The Revenant shouts and grabs Legato by an arm, flinging him away-

Straight into the path of the cable attached to the Colt. Right arm outstretched, it snags and twists around his forearm with the force of the throw, digging in hard enough Legato winces even as he snatches the cable to reel in the gun. The Revenant turns and snarls, focusing on laying his threads thick in the air to catch at everyone, Knives now included.

Legato, still bound by the other's will, settles the Colt in his hand, pivots, brings the gun up and Vash is too close he's too close Legato hardly needs to aim and he can't even scream a warning with his jaw wired shut-

The gun fires, trigger pulled once, adjust for the kick, twice. Center of mass, lung shot, slow bleeding death, choking on blood, not quick, not instant, not clean. No no no nonono Vash he was trying to protect for once in his life he wanted to protect-!!

"Suffer! All of you suffer!! This is your fault Vash the Stampede!! Your doppelganger will die, this inferior reflection of me will never deserve my Master's name, Master will not choose you over me again!!" The Revenant shrieks wildly, yanking on threads to contort his victims violently.

@blankticket @plantfell @amoirsetpacis

It takes his brother's second attempt at contacting him for Knives to jump into action. Worrisome as it was to hear his brother call out, only to receive silence when he returned the call, there were plenty of ways to excuse the odd parts of Vash's first attempt at contact. Maybe he got distracted, maybe he misjudged how long he had to use his powers. His brother had his phone number, if it was important, there were ways to get in contact with him.

Excusing the strange distant quality of Vash's voice when he calls out wondering where Knives is the second time, is much harder to excuse. Within minutes, the plant is out the door and soaring through the skies above the wards looking for his brother. Periodically he calls out in hope of a response, but ultimately he finds Vash before he ever hears anything from him.

As high up as he is, it's difficult for Knives to fully discern what is going on. There's four figures surrounded by countless more figures. It's obvious that two of them are Vash and Little Vash, and Knives would recognize that blue hair anywhere. Except, there's two nearly identical heads of blue hair. The plant's heart sinks as he realizes what that must mean. It's a delicate situation, he needs time to think and come up with a plan-

Bang!

The skull on the shoulder of one of the Legato's shatters and he shouts something at the Vash that shot him. Then the other Legato lunges at Little Vash. For one short moment, Knives hopes it Legato coming to his brother's doppelganger's aid, but it's quickly apparent that's not the case. Damn it! There's no time to think, he has to act now.

Without another thought, Knives dives towards the ground and lands with a flourish of feathers which quickly dissipate as soon as his feet are back on the ground. Closer now, it's clearer that the situation is more dire than he knew. It's almost difficult to find one point to focus on. The gun pressed again Little Vash's chin, the state of his Vash, the state of the relevant Legato and his mutilated skull.

"What the hell is going on here?" Knives tries to find that part of him that found it so easy to berate Legato in their world. To project an aura of dominance and put an end to the conflict with his influence over the human alone. His words, however, lack bite. Oh, he still has a commanding, barking voice, but worry is the dominating emotion, not superiority. Still, Knives tries. "Stand down, Legato."

@blankticket @amoirsetpacis @deadlydevotion