[ open ] and between the wasteland and the sky

[underbluesky]

Who: Vash & YOU
What: Vash has been hermitting, and Trench decided that it's been quite enough of that
When: Early November
Where: Sleeper farm


starters in the comments! if you'd like to plot something, hit me up on plurk @ goodluckmodes

Comments

cw: gore, organ removal, mercymorn

[acidjail]

[Ten thousand years of near invulnerability. Ten thousand years of every insult to the flesh and bone and spirit sloughed off contemptuously to leave a body still frozen perfectly in time, inviolate and incorruptible.

Pain is nothing. She has known worse pain than this. It is the temerity that vexes her most, the utter and unmitigated gall of these people to put their hands upon her in violence and to disassemble her like a fatted calf on a ritual altar. It is the fact of her weakness, of her fragility, of her smallness-

She is unrecognizable when a familiar voice intrudes on her incoherent, bloodless seething, the furiously burning outrage at her core more of what's kept her heart beating than anything else. She is a Lyctor. Even at her most debased, she can take more, give more, and they took from her in buckets and bundles. The inverted Y incision visible through the rent front of her nightshirt is proof of that, as is the green and reeking blood that soaks her head to toe. Her nose is broken badly, so she breathes through her mouth, her eyes swollen to slits. She slumps into his shoulder by necessity, not choice, once he's disconnected her from the net of tubing and the straps to the elevated table they left her on.]

No, it won't.

[She hisses like a dying radiator, digging the fractured fingers of her left hand into the back of his jacket, and this is how he'll know her: no one but the Saint of Woe could manage to still sound so pettish in the midst of all of this.]

Not when I am finished.

[underbluesky]

[There is a certain level of bitter, twisted irony. One of their earliest conversations, she had said nobody is going to just tell you they intend to abduct you for sinister ends, are they? She'd tried to warn him against being too trusting, that even she was someone who preferred to be on the end committing the sinister ends as often as possible -- all the while staying in a space where he was easily vulnerable every night, and remained unharmed the entire time.

To see anyone in such a horrifying state would steal the breath from Vash's lungs, but it's when he hears that voice that he really freezes, goes stiff-silent. For the first time she's known him, the smile fades entirely, for a good ten seconds. Drips of salty water splash on her hand before he smiles through it again, even as his own blood mingles with hers--it smells of desert flowers and feels cool against her skin like aloe.]

Don't worry about that right now. [he half-whispers, voice soft and gentle, as though he were trying to urge an ill child to sleep. he can try to talk her out of some kind of revenge scheme later. when she can sit upright and breathe through her nose and focus her vision.]

Let's escape first. Can you hold onto me?