Review note: Yay you like it! So happy. Boo no-one has flamed me
yet...though the lovely Brit gave me an assurance that Milly and Meryl were
done ok. Oh well, I'll figure it out as I go along.
AN: This is the biggest part of the exposition to come along so far. Time to meet my OC. He'll be familiar. for some reason ;-).
Ch4: Green shoots after rain.
That very night after that somewhat tense dinner and a long wished for bath, Vash wakes suddenly from sleep, something calling him from slumber. Immediately he looks over to where Knivesu rests still on a twin bed of his, disturbed dreams twitching his expression. Then the disturbance happens a second time, and Vash knows it well. It's the keening of a dying Plant, the same one he heard out in the desert. His heart feels squeezed with sorrow. The plant is suffering a long death. He cannot put this aside to take care of his brother. It is too painful to turn away. He bows his head, letting his hair flop over his face, shadowed black in the moonlight.
By daybreak he is packed ready to go with his usual stash of gear. The familiar red coat and spiked hair are topped off with a black backpack of travel gear. The red coat is his spare, and it's tails are shot up, the right arm torn to shreds.
He had awoken Milly and Meryl and explained the situation, and both were standing outside the door wrapped in blankets, waiting for him to finish with Knives. Milly had given him her full trust of course, and as usual Meryl had reservations. She didn't want to have them. But she still did.
Vash kneels at his Knivezu's side. "Knivezu. I am being called away. A Plant is dying, and I must go. But if you call for me. I will run to be by your side. Please forgive me for leaving it, even for this short time."
Knives does not stir. Vash stands, and turns away, affixing his sunglasses in the predawn light. Just outside the door Meryl is standing, waiting for him to finish with Knives. "You're really going to leave us alone with him. What if he wakes up? This whole town could be obliterated."
"I don't think he will, and even if he does, he is wounded. He'd barely be able to walk."
"But Vash."
"I will take care of Knivezu, please help me. Goodbye Meryl, I'll be back soon."
With that, Vash leaves the house behind, leaving one grim situation for another. His sunglasses firmly in place, geranium red coat flapping in the wind, Vash once again leaves the insurance girls behind as he strides off into the first rays of sunlight.
.
The very next day Vash stands by the cracked and dusty bulb of a geo-plant, somehow still clinging to life after all this time. It is as he feared, the plant cannot be revived, and he drops to his knees and presses his hands and head against the dirty glass, crying silently. But he cannot give up, he breaths his life into the Plant, prepared to exhaust himself to save it's life, to give it more time, relieve it's pain, anything he can do.
Suddenly as Vash kneels there, hands pressed against the spidery glass he can feel the Plants' sad smile upon him, and it's very energy brushes against his mind. It speaks to him, in the way that only plants do, soft against his mind. "Can I ask for one thing?"
"Anything."
"Tell me about the one who you most wish had never left this world. Someone the world still needs."
"Wolfwood." Vash whispers aloud, his eyes snapping open in shock even as speaks. He surprises himself with his answer. But he knows well that he has put Rem's spirit to rest. It is the young priest who never got his chance at the redemption within his grasp that Vash's mind goes to. But Rem would forgive him for choosing another over her, she rests in peace.
"Wolfwood." The plant repeats, and to his surprise moves closer, inveigling itself deep into Vash's mind. Once there it begins to sift through every memory Vash has of the scruffy looking priest whose tarnished soul shone brightly if you looked from the right angle. It's as though the plant is searching for the very essence of Wolfwood, his very soul. Vash weeps pitifully as each memory, some painful, some happy, is brought to the front of his mind and examined to it's finest detail. Vash has not yet finished grieving for the young priest, and this experience is overwhelming him.
/Wolfwood,/ He thinks. /I loved you like family, you were a true friend. I didn't want to lose you... I couldn't save you. Why did it have to be like this?/
Finally the plant seems to find something it likes. "Ahhh. I knew you would have."
"Would have what?" Vash looks up at the plant with streaming eyes. She is holding something roiling in her hands. Vash doesn't yet understand why the plant wants to know about Wolfwood, and his pain is great, going through every single memory he has of a dead man that he loved.
"Taken a picture of his soul." The plant explains, once again becoming just a soft presence against his mind. "In a hope to understand it, I see. But, Sweet one, you could not hope understand anything about him from it. You could only see it, not enter it."
The plant has all it can know about Wolfwood, it has found Wolfwood's very spirit, as Vash saw once, the impression of a mental tapestry that he had no hope of understanding.
And then the plant. calls. It feels like a blinding light, both overwhelming and attractive, tugging at Vash to enter it. For a brief instant Vash can feel something more, some /thing/ here with the plant and him. Something almost ephemeral, like a breath of smoke. Then it's gone and Vash's attention is captured once more by the plant.
The plant speaks to him then without words, just images and their attached emotions, telling a story. The plant wishes to be reborn, it's life is failing, and it wishes for a child to carry itself on. So it wishes to be reborn into the human world, as someone that the world misses having. Vash has finally allowed Rem to rest in peace, and so, his first thoughts were of Wolfwood. The plant taking every memory it can about him from Vash allows her to become Wolfwood. To make a new life from her spent one.
And then she opens her eyes and speaks once more with her feather soft voice against his mind. "I am dying. Will you have this child with me?"
"Why?" Vash asks, sitting bowed to the ground in exhaustion, asking a hundred questions in one.
The plant answers succinctly and with clarity. "You are taking care of Knives, and now this planet can begin to grow."
Vash pauses in shock. The plant's answer speaks volumes to why this is happening, now, not before, not later, and most definitely not by chance. All the plants of this world had been waiting on Vash to keep his promise, to set aside other concerns, so they could finally achieve the purpose they were built for. And this one broken geo-plant had been biding her time, crippled and alone, waiting for humanity's scourge to be cleansed, so that her one little life could be born in peace. So that the whole of the planet could revive from a dusty slumber. And they never spoke a word. The century long wait was done in silence.
"You waited all this time.."
"Yes, it was worth waiting for."
"I'm so sorry."
"I had the gift of a long life, lived close to this planet. I don't regret it."
Vash feels overwhelmed. "I will have this child with you. My answer. is yes."
The plant glows with joy and reaches through the glass binding it, taking a breath of essence from Vash. It feels like a kiss made of sunlight. He reaches out to embrace it, holding the plant to him with a tenderness and love overwhelming. The plant revives, absorbing essence from Vash, combining it with the memories of Wolfwood, swirling the energies together in a blaze of light, binding them into one single entity, before taking the whole glowing mass of energy deep into itself. And then the plant opens it's eyes, and makes a new life out of three old ones.
With it's final act complete, the plant dies, dissipates, and is reborn, a tiny baby, alone and crying, nestled into Vash's arms, like the plant was only a moment before. A baby like Vash was, only alone, with no twin beside him. But, like Vash, with a protector, to nurture, watch over, guide. Just like that, Vash is a father, a human wish that may never have been fulfilled otherwise.
The baby cries the first cries of a newborn, confused and uncomprehending.
Vash looks at the child in his arms, and gingerly reaches out to touch his cheek. His son. Careful to hold this tiny baby gently, he takes a soft cloth out of his little backpack and swaddles him with reverence. And like countless times in his life before Vash shelters a child. But it's different this time. This time, the child is his own. Precious above anything Vash has ever held before. And more than this, the child is a symbol of renewed life, of the Plants, the planet, and through that, all life, all humans.
Vash smiles, almost unbelieving of what is now wrapped up in his black and white flannelette pyjamas. This is just a tiny baby, but already the hair is a dusting of almost black. and the eyes. Oh the eyes. Newborns have slate blue eyes, unfocusing and wide. This baby does not. Instead a pair of dark grey eyes, crystal bright, look back at him. Wolfwood's eyes. Except for one small thing, they have touch of green in them, they're a touch too pale and blue, and resting on the cheek just by them, is a small blemish, a mole. Marks of his parentage.
The ghost of a memory of the plant drifts by him. "What's his name?" Vash's eyes never leave the mewling bundle in his arms. "Nicky."
And once again, a sigh goes up from the planet: It has begun.
--- AN: and indeed it has. Well. what do you think of my little OC here?
AN: This is the biggest part of the exposition to come along so far. Time to meet my OC. He'll be familiar. for some reason ;-).
Ch4: Green shoots after rain.
That very night after that somewhat tense dinner and a long wished for bath, Vash wakes suddenly from sleep, something calling him from slumber. Immediately he looks over to where Knivesu rests still on a twin bed of his, disturbed dreams twitching his expression. Then the disturbance happens a second time, and Vash knows it well. It's the keening of a dying Plant, the same one he heard out in the desert. His heart feels squeezed with sorrow. The plant is suffering a long death. He cannot put this aside to take care of his brother. It is too painful to turn away. He bows his head, letting his hair flop over his face, shadowed black in the moonlight.
By daybreak he is packed ready to go with his usual stash of gear. The familiar red coat and spiked hair are topped off with a black backpack of travel gear. The red coat is his spare, and it's tails are shot up, the right arm torn to shreds.
He had awoken Milly and Meryl and explained the situation, and both were standing outside the door wrapped in blankets, waiting for him to finish with Knives. Milly had given him her full trust of course, and as usual Meryl had reservations. She didn't want to have them. But she still did.
Vash kneels at his Knivezu's side. "Knivezu. I am being called away. A Plant is dying, and I must go. But if you call for me. I will run to be by your side. Please forgive me for leaving it, even for this short time."
Knives does not stir. Vash stands, and turns away, affixing his sunglasses in the predawn light. Just outside the door Meryl is standing, waiting for him to finish with Knives. "You're really going to leave us alone with him. What if he wakes up? This whole town could be obliterated."
"I don't think he will, and even if he does, he is wounded. He'd barely be able to walk."
"But Vash."
"I will take care of Knivezu, please help me. Goodbye Meryl, I'll be back soon."
With that, Vash leaves the house behind, leaving one grim situation for another. His sunglasses firmly in place, geranium red coat flapping in the wind, Vash once again leaves the insurance girls behind as he strides off into the first rays of sunlight.
.
The very next day Vash stands by the cracked and dusty bulb of a geo-plant, somehow still clinging to life after all this time. It is as he feared, the plant cannot be revived, and he drops to his knees and presses his hands and head against the dirty glass, crying silently. But he cannot give up, he breaths his life into the Plant, prepared to exhaust himself to save it's life, to give it more time, relieve it's pain, anything he can do.
Suddenly as Vash kneels there, hands pressed against the spidery glass he can feel the Plants' sad smile upon him, and it's very energy brushes against his mind. It speaks to him, in the way that only plants do, soft against his mind. "Can I ask for one thing?"
"Anything."
"Tell me about the one who you most wish had never left this world. Someone the world still needs."
"Wolfwood." Vash whispers aloud, his eyes snapping open in shock even as speaks. He surprises himself with his answer. But he knows well that he has put Rem's spirit to rest. It is the young priest who never got his chance at the redemption within his grasp that Vash's mind goes to. But Rem would forgive him for choosing another over her, she rests in peace.
"Wolfwood." The plant repeats, and to his surprise moves closer, inveigling itself deep into Vash's mind. Once there it begins to sift through every memory Vash has of the scruffy looking priest whose tarnished soul shone brightly if you looked from the right angle. It's as though the plant is searching for the very essence of Wolfwood, his very soul. Vash weeps pitifully as each memory, some painful, some happy, is brought to the front of his mind and examined to it's finest detail. Vash has not yet finished grieving for the young priest, and this experience is overwhelming him.
/Wolfwood,/ He thinks. /I loved you like family, you were a true friend. I didn't want to lose you... I couldn't save you. Why did it have to be like this?/
Finally the plant seems to find something it likes. "Ahhh. I knew you would have."
"Would have what?" Vash looks up at the plant with streaming eyes. She is holding something roiling in her hands. Vash doesn't yet understand why the plant wants to know about Wolfwood, and his pain is great, going through every single memory he has of a dead man that he loved.
"Taken a picture of his soul." The plant explains, once again becoming just a soft presence against his mind. "In a hope to understand it, I see. But, Sweet one, you could not hope understand anything about him from it. You could only see it, not enter it."
The plant has all it can know about Wolfwood, it has found Wolfwood's very spirit, as Vash saw once, the impression of a mental tapestry that he had no hope of understanding.
And then the plant. calls. It feels like a blinding light, both overwhelming and attractive, tugging at Vash to enter it. For a brief instant Vash can feel something more, some /thing/ here with the plant and him. Something almost ephemeral, like a breath of smoke. Then it's gone and Vash's attention is captured once more by the plant.
The plant speaks to him then without words, just images and their attached emotions, telling a story. The plant wishes to be reborn, it's life is failing, and it wishes for a child to carry itself on. So it wishes to be reborn into the human world, as someone that the world misses having. Vash has finally allowed Rem to rest in peace, and so, his first thoughts were of Wolfwood. The plant taking every memory it can about him from Vash allows her to become Wolfwood. To make a new life from her spent one.
And then she opens her eyes and speaks once more with her feather soft voice against his mind. "I am dying. Will you have this child with me?"
"Why?" Vash asks, sitting bowed to the ground in exhaustion, asking a hundred questions in one.
The plant answers succinctly and with clarity. "You are taking care of Knives, and now this planet can begin to grow."
Vash pauses in shock. The plant's answer speaks volumes to why this is happening, now, not before, not later, and most definitely not by chance. All the plants of this world had been waiting on Vash to keep his promise, to set aside other concerns, so they could finally achieve the purpose they were built for. And this one broken geo-plant had been biding her time, crippled and alone, waiting for humanity's scourge to be cleansed, so that her one little life could be born in peace. So that the whole of the planet could revive from a dusty slumber. And they never spoke a word. The century long wait was done in silence.
"You waited all this time.."
"Yes, it was worth waiting for."
"I'm so sorry."
"I had the gift of a long life, lived close to this planet. I don't regret it."
Vash feels overwhelmed. "I will have this child with you. My answer. is yes."
The plant glows with joy and reaches through the glass binding it, taking a breath of essence from Vash. It feels like a kiss made of sunlight. He reaches out to embrace it, holding the plant to him with a tenderness and love overwhelming. The plant revives, absorbing essence from Vash, combining it with the memories of Wolfwood, swirling the energies together in a blaze of light, binding them into one single entity, before taking the whole glowing mass of energy deep into itself. And then the plant opens it's eyes, and makes a new life out of three old ones.
With it's final act complete, the plant dies, dissipates, and is reborn, a tiny baby, alone and crying, nestled into Vash's arms, like the plant was only a moment before. A baby like Vash was, only alone, with no twin beside him. But, like Vash, with a protector, to nurture, watch over, guide. Just like that, Vash is a father, a human wish that may never have been fulfilled otherwise.
The baby cries the first cries of a newborn, confused and uncomprehending.
Vash looks at the child in his arms, and gingerly reaches out to touch his cheek. His son. Careful to hold this tiny baby gently, he takes a soft cloth out of his little backpack and swaddles him with reverence. And like countless times in his life before Vash shelters a child. But it's different this time. This time, the child is his own. Precious above anything Vash has ever held before. And more than this, the child is a symbol of renewed life, of the Plants, the planet, and through that, all life, all humans.
Vash smiles, almost unbelieving of what is now wrapped up in his black and white flannelette pyjamas. This is just a tiny baby, but already the hair is a dusting of almost black. and the eyes. Oh the eyes. Newborns have slate blue eyes, unfocusing and wide. This baby does not. Instead a pair of dark grey eyes, crystal bright, look back at him. Wolfwood's eyes. Except for one small thing, they have touch of green in them, they're a touch too pale and blue, and resting on the cheek just by them, is a small blemish, a mole. Marks of his parentage.
The ghost of a memory of the plant drifts by him. "What's his name?" Vash's eyes never leave the mewling bundle in his arms. "Nicky."
And once again, a sigh goes up from the planet: It has begun.
--- AN: and indeed it has. Well. what do you think of my little OC here?