capeandcowllogs | Lose it in a minute

Lose it in a minute

WHO: Millions Knives (

returntoeven) and Vash the Stampede (

plantpacifist)
WHERE: The beach.
WHEN: After this.
WARNINGS: Knives and his...particular brand of psychosis. @_@
SUMMARY: Vash is aware there's been a disturbance in the ~~Knives~~Force so he comes to investigate. He doesn't find what he was expecting.
FORMAT: Para since we're tl;dr fiends.

The sun was gone, descended below the waterline in a brilliance of crimson. The air had cooled, the water lapping calmly at the shore just as it had hours before. For all intents and purposes, everything appeared to be the same, the lengthening shadows casting a veil over the landscape.

The gouges in the sand, however, told a different story, as did the spots of glass left over from a heat that could only be called radioactive. Rocks were shredded, the nearby trees had all been torn down, and there was a faint stench beginning to rise from where birds and other small bits of life had fallen, ripped to pieces by an avenging blade. He barely even noticed it, his stare fixed on the subtle sparkle of the waves before him, the stone he was leaning against cutting into his back.

The roughness didn't bother him. Not really. If anything, he appreciated it, somewhat comforted by that fact that he could still feel even though everything else had drained away. He felt nothing, just that he was hollow, and that he needed to stay that way - to avoid the brokenness he knew was just around the corner. If he didn't, then -

No, he bristled. He wouldn't accept that. He couldn't. The consequences were too terrible to think about, and whatever others thought of him, he was not a mindless creature of destruction. He never had been, and so long as he lived, he never would be.

So why, then, did it still hurt?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Vash had been caught up in the Wrath-riots early enough in the day that he hadn't initially been aware of the larger significance of the event. He was understandably pissed that, having found a nice, comfortable cardboard box to sleep in, he'd been awakened by a mob of crazed, angry citizens. Couldn't a guy nap in peace anymore? Nooo, they have to chase after him with rakes and leaf-blowers, just because he was an import and he happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. God only knew how they had found that out. As he ran, he tuned into his comm and found the cause; this raven chick was doing something with her 'brothers' what was this?

That misguided, selfish little brat!! It was senseless! He just wanted to- in his mind he daren't even articulate what he wanted to do. He'd told Raven it wasn't about the darkness in everyone's heart, it was how they controlled it, and by God he'd controlled his own darkness for 154 years and he wasn't about to stop now.

He'd finally evaded the crowd. He caught his breath, he calmed himself down. And then he sensed it. Vash could always sense Knives' presence when they were both in the City. It was a weirdly comforting feeling; he supposed that was because, when all was said and done, they were still brothers. And now he sensed that his brother's immense power was becoming erratic, that it might soon elude control. Something bad had happened to Knives, and Vash dreaded that the City might bear the brunt of his brother's mad rage. He started running.

Crunch. Shards of glass broke under his feet as he approached his brother on the beach. Strange to thing that what had been three years for Vash had been only a few months to Knives, when they had met here to settle a score that had already been settled. Huh.

"Knives." said Vash, not knowing what else to say.

He sensed his brother before he heard him, the periodic crunch of glass merely a confirmation. They'd always been close, even when they were at each others' throats, the bond they shared as brothers and plants keeping them linked at all times. That's why it didn't surprise him that Vash had come; he always did. But that didn't mean he wanted him to, or anyone else for that matter. Something had happened to him on a fundamental level - something that had only happened once in all his 154 years. It had been dire then, and it had the potential to be dire now. That was why he was still here. He hadn't dared to leave, knowing what lurked around the corner.

However, even knowing what had happened before, he couldn't stop himself from smiling, the expression empty and opaque all at once, an echo of childhood days long since past. It had been fake then, and it was fake now, only this time it was that much more obvious - a mask to be penetrated for those who knew how.

He didn't look at his brother, merely continued to stare out across the shifting waters. The smile stayed.

"Vash."

The beach was a mess. It hadn't been at all like this the last time he'd been here. Of course, it had also been covered in snow, but there weren't any trees where there ought to be and it looked like someone had made a bonfire the size of a city block on the sand. Vash only hoped no sentient being had been in the area while it was still burning.

That fake greeting, that tone of voice so full of forced joviality would have clued Vash in even if had had somehow missed the completely destroyed state of the beach. Besides, Knives hadn't been happy, hadn't even pretended to be happy ONCE since he'd arrived in the City. To suddenly look cheerful could only mean that something dire had occurred. Contrary to appearances, Vash wasn't stupid. He walked up and sat next to his brother and stared out at the sea with him. He said nothing for a long while.

"Must have been some party last night." he said finally. "Broken glass everywhere."

He didn't move when Vash approached, didn't even look when his brother took a seat next to him. His expression didn't change either, the look of faux contentment and peace fixed on his features, as though chiseled from stone. The silence didn't bother him - he'd been here alone for at least an hour before Vash had shown up so it was something he was used to. Still, something about his brother's presence, familiar as it was, did put him more at ease.

"A little over an hour ago, actually," he said, scooping up a handful of sand as he did so. Moments later, he threw it, the motion loose and easy as he watched the grains alight upon the waves. "I'm surprised you missed it."

Edited 2009-08-04 18:11 (UTC)

"Yeah, well. Traffic was murder. You know how it is." Vash had much more practice with insincere smiles than his brother. "So what happened?"

His smile tightened, his fingers curling around yet another handful of sand as he continued to stare. A shadow passed over his face, but it was brief. Knives still looked content, unnatural as it was.

It was a lie, though - the smile, all of it. He was on the verge of doing something terrible. The facade was merely his way of hiding it - an attempt to reassure himself that everything was all right even though it wasn't - and it showed in his voice as a hint of ugliness enter his tone.

"Gluttony."

"What's Gluttony?" Strange. Knives didn't look any fatter than usual. It wasn't as though Vash paid much attention to the comm these days. He'd only had time find out the bare bones of the current situation, which was that Raven was laying waste to the City by stripping its inhabitants of their inhibitions. He hadn't seen Gluttony's post. He didn't know about the Sins.

Under normal circumstances, a question like that - so oblivious and completely out of touch with reality - would have really pissed Knives off. And yet, right now, he couldn't bring himself to feel anything beyond the ache inside, a hollowness that could never be filled.

He didn't answer for a long moment, that empty smile still distorting his features despite what he was feeling. He couldn't seem to get rid of it, just as he couldn't find the words to articulate what he felt.

A small tuft of feathers sprouted from his fingers then, soft and nonthreatening. He didn't say a word; he merely turned to face his brother and pressed the ivory at his fingertips to his brother's forehead, letting his memories and knowledge of the Sins pour from his mind into Vash's.

He hid nothing - what had happened, his feelings, nothing. He didn't speak throughout, letting the recollections speak for themselves. Then, when he'd shared everything, he withdrew his fingers and turned away once more, still smiling, but unable to hide the betrayal he felt - the same heartbreak that had doomed them to 153 years of strife.

Edited 2009-08-04 19:31 (UTC)

Wow. That was... It was hard to describe or even think about. That method of telepathy was always very intense, and to be honest Vash felt rather moved that Knives had shared so much with him. He didn't trust himself to speak at first.

Wishful thinking accomplished nothing. He couldn't kiss it and make it better. Vash had long since lost track of the number of times he'd turned the events following their discovery of Tessla's fate over and over in his head, wondered if only Rem had done this or if Knives had only not fallen unconscious. Humans would not magically unanimously see the error of their ways, and Knives would likely be messed up forever. But Vash had never taken the easy way out, and he wasn't about to start now.

"Knives. You are what you choose to be, you do what you choose to do. With all our powers, we're still not God. That we have these impulses in us, greed, pride, sloth, wrath, that's normal. But we don't have to let ourselves be ruled by them."

Knives listened but didn't really, his fingers curling around a handful of sand as the slightest tremor shook him. Vash was right, of course. Everyone had those impulses, and he'd as much as admitted that just over an hour ago even if it hadn't been in such clear terms. He knew what set him off, just as he knew he would always hate the humans who had used and abused his sisters. It was just something he accepted because, really, he didn't have regrets. If given the opportunity and resources, Knives would have attempted to wipe out humanity again; there was just no point to it here, and he really had tried to control his own murderous tendencies.

When it came right down to it, though, it wasn't what had been said so much as who had said it. It was one thing to be called a monster by those who knew nothing about your situation. But Robin - Knives had actually dared to trust him. To ask for the help he couldn't even ask of his own brother. He'd given him a blood sample and allowed the teen to see him at his very worst, only to have it thrown back in his face.

He bowed his head, the smile distorting his features almost painful now as his fingers dug into his palm. His voice was quiet - breaking.

"I trusted him."

Vash picked up a nearby piece of driftwood and drew aimless circles in the wet sand. The lines stayed, indelibly bound by the dampness. Though the wind might pick up, only the rising tide would wash them away. "That wasn't him. You know that."

That was a fact. It had disturbed Vash just as much to hear Gluttony's words coming from Robin's voice. Why had it taken so long for he and Knives to start speaking like this? They had led such different lives. They had learned such different lessons.

He started over. "Whenever you trust someone, you run the risk of that trust being betrayed. But never trusting people, that's no way to live." Damned if you do, damned if you don't. Vash's own trust had been betrayed more often than not, and he had the scars to prove it. And Knives. Here's a 153-year-old man, asking his brother to make sense of the world like a child wondering why God abandoned him.

He did know that. He'd so much as told himself that the exact moment Gluttony had spoken to him. That wasn't Robin, and when Robin finally did return (as Knives was certain he would), he would regret it - every word, ever deed that he had committed as Gluttony.

Rationally, then, none of this should have bothered him. He should have been able to move past this and dismiss it from his mind.

He couldn't, though. He couldn't, and that was why he was hurting. Because in spite of all the things he'd done and how long he'd lived, Knives was still a child. The shock of finding Tessla and the perceived betrayal of humanity had warped and prevented any normal maturation he might have had. He couldn't deal with these things like others could, the hurt and pain he felt twisting about inside him until it morphed into something devastating and destructive. It was all he knew, and yet, he didn't want it. Not here, and nor for this.

He squeezed his eyes shut, grimacing more than anything as both hands dug into the sand, curling into fist as though desperate for an anchor.

Then, in the same hoarse tones as before: "I can't."

Edited 2009-08-08 18:47 (UTC)

Dammit, what was he supposed to say? He couldn't kiss it and make it better. He only wished it could be so easy. Knives had always been the one with no tolerance for pain.

"What can I tell you? It hurts, and in time, it'll go away. There's no magic solution for that kind of pain. I mean, you could get drunk. I like bourbon and scotch, but that doesn't always help, and anyway it's only temporary."

Vash hesitated for a moment, before putting his arm over his brother's shoulder in a one-armed, manly hug. "That's just life, brother."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Lose it in a minute

I miss my icons

orly

Aww, thanks.

83 you're welcome~

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

You are not a gun

What about a knife?

Knives are used for more than killing

Re: Knives are used for more than killing

no subject