bridgescribble | It's that one where you have to give a speech to a crowd of bears and wasps again

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It's that one where you have to give a speech to a crowd of bears and wasps again

You're having a nightmare, and you aren't alone. Someone is here with you in tonight's strange, dark dreamscape--for better or for worse.

Chased: Bears, tentacly monsters, giant vengeful wasps. You need to escape from it but you can't find a way.
Trapped: Elevator, sinking ship, cave. You're in and you can't get out.
Performance: It's often quoted that people fear public speaking more than they fear death. You don't know the script, you've never seen this Powerpoint, the teleprompter is blurry as hell... forget falling, you're about to die on stage.
Hated: You know those dreams where everyone you know accuses you of something terrible and they all hate you now? Yeah. It's that one tonight.
Disaster! You're on an island and a volcano erupts! You're next to a river and it floods! Never mind how geologically, climatologically, or physically likely it would be in this location in real life, it's happening now.
Haunting past: Your bad memories are just waiting for you to let your guard down, and what's more unguarded than sleep?
Wildcard: There are infinite nightmares in infinite combinations... why not put together your own?

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[ What's happening. Vash would laugh if it were the slightest bit funny. The heat beneath his skin pulses and swells, and feathers erupt from the exposed skin on his face and throat. Some are starting to worm their way out from beneath the hem of him shirt, the cuffs of his pants, threading through his hair. ]

Knives. [ It's a curse, and a plea. He has to be close. Wherever his body is, whatever real is for him right now outside of this dream, this illusion, Knives is close. An image -- a memory? -- breaks free, and he suddenly thinks of a tower, a temple, a steel cage the size of a coffin. Is that now? Is that where he is? ] It wants him. [ But there's no difference between himself and the thing inside him, is there? ] I want... [ He shakes his head, trying to deny the patently obvious truth -- he doesn't want this, he doesn't! But 'Vash' is just the interface, the user-facing side of the great machine his skin is wrapped around, and that machine is being summoned. It wants to connect with the broader network, sync up with the master system and do what it was designed to do. ]

[ There's feathers in the corners of his eyes when he finally looks up, his expression bleary, pained... and so confused. His other self is glowing like circuitry, and it's a metaphor Vash doesn't want to accept right now. ]

Why are you here? What's your purpose?

[ Around them, the smoke is growing thicker, choking out the air in the room. There's a distant explosion, the shock wave ripping through the bedrock beneath their feet, and one of the far walls crumbles, letting in starlight, dust, fragmented screams. The air isn't any fresher than the smoky mess in the cellar, but Vash gulps it in with the desperation of a drowning man. ]

A hundred thousand people. How many more, Knives? How many more are you going to make me kill? [ There's tears, rolling down the feathers in his eyes. ] I don't want to do this anymore.

[ It comes as no surprise that his brother is the cause of... whatever is happening to his other self. Vash might not understand what 'it' means — what his double is even referring to when he says that — but just hearing the name his brother chose for himself is enough. He knows it can only mean bad things for himself (both of them) and humanity at large. Horrifically, the transformation just keeps going, as if the feathers bursting from within his other self's body are trying to overtake and consume him whole. It's incredibly disconcerting to watch and his heart hurts seeing the state his doppelganger is in when he lifts his head to meet his gaze. ]

I don't know...

[ He admits, feeling as helpless and small as he's currently appearing. Unbalanced as he is with only one arm, the ground suddenly trembling in the aftermath of an explosion nearly sends him toppling to the ground. It's only because he has enough sense to list to the side and throw himself against a nearby wall to catch himself that he manages to stay somewhat upright. When one of the far walls crumbles as a result of the shock, Vash becomes acutely aware that this isn't Ship Five in its death throes. Not that he can ponder that fact much when his attention is snared by his older self who goes on to plead to a brother that is not here and, even if he was, would never even listen.

Is he talking about the Great Fall? Not that it matters, Vash understands the despairing sentiment behind the words all too well. They're like a dagger to his heart that's being twisted. 'I don't want to do this anymore.' They never wanted any of this from the start. Just being with Rem and Nai as a family had been enough; all he — they — needed to be happy and content.

It looks like his older self might be losing himself to the nightmare as the place starts to come down around them and he can't bear to just keep watching. He doesn't know if he can help this Vash the way he can help his sisters when there are some very stark differences between them, but he decides he has to try. They have to get out of here before they get crushed or the smoke suffocates them first though. It's getting far too hard to breathe.

He moves towards his older self and mercifully, with the next step he's suddenly his actual self again, the heavy weight of Brad's handiwork by his side a very welcome comfort. Having his gun, two arms, and being of similar height as his double will go a long way to make things easier for him. He approaches with his hands held aloft, palms up, non-threatening. (Albeit still weirdly glowing.) ]

I- I think I can help you. But we have to move first, it's-

[ He cuts himself off when the need to cough becomes too great and the ground shudders beneath his feet again. More of the wall comes down and Vash realizes he just doesn't have the time to try and calm his other self down. With an impatient noise he darts forward to grab his double and start booking it again. He's at least mindful to catch hold of the prosthetic arm since the process of sprouting all those feathers looks painful and he doesn't want to hurt his older self any more than he might already be hurting. He has no idea where to go, but he tries to follow the sound of distant screams coming from outside and whatever glimpses he can catch from the night sky as he pulls the other Vash along through the increasing rubble. ]

[ Vash moves along dumbly where he's led, not really aware anymore of the other Vash's presence. Somewhere in the waking world Knives's gate is singing to his, a low, hypnotic drone that's drowning out all other sounds, and it's taking everything in him to keep his own gate from responding. ]

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

[ The route out of the cellar isn't any easy one -- the stairs are long gone, buried in debris, but with a little determination, a path appears. The city above... well, there's no city above, not anymore. There was a city here once, but it's been blown clean off the map. Skeletal buildings dot the landscape as far as the eye can see, charred and smoking. Debris is everywhere, piled high, making the city streets a maze of death and ruin. Nothing in intact. Nothing could have survived this. July Dry Goo-- announces one heat-blasted sign, the letters barely visible in the starlight.

There are no bodies, not really, although the stink of burning flesh warns that they're not far off. ]

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!

[ Between his unfamiliarity with the space and all the debris everywhere, it feels like a frustrating maze. His other self isn't being particularly helpful either, merely letting himself be towed along in his wake while murmuring a litany of apologies. Fortunately, Vash is nothing if not determined once he sets his mind to something and at least his double isn't resisting. His persistence eventually pays off when he finds a suitable route essentially created by the rubble itself and he wastes no time climbing up, desperate for fresher air. He thinks, due to the smoke and all-too-familiar scent of destruction and death, that he's prepared for whatever lies above.

He's not.

Nothing could have ever prepared him for the utter devastation he finds once they emerge from the cellar. The destruction of Jeneora Rock pales in comparison to what his eyes perceive here and it stops him dead in his tracks, gaze darting everywhere as his mind struggles to comprehend what he's seeing: the full annihilation of an entire city. There's a niggling sense of recognition. Or perhaps, more accurately, he feels like he should recognize where this is. Only he can't because it's just too destroyed, there are no landmarks remaining to help guide him. His eyes land on a half-scorched sign nearby and despite the rising dread, his feet carry him closer to it as he squints to try and read it. He feels his heart sink down to the very bottom of his soles when the letters start making sense. ]

This is... July...?

[ The litany of apologies returns stronger now and something clicks in Vash's mind. His doppelganger's words down below, the constant apologizing... He lets go of his older self's hand and turns to face him, face pale and eyes wide. He doesn't want to ask yet the words slip out before he can stop himself. ]

You did this?

[ There is no accusation or judgement to the words, there's only the abject horror of his dawning realization. ]

[ Welcome to his nightmare, Vash. A hundred thousand dead, blown to pieces in the rubble of July City. ]

I couldn't stop it.

[ His doppelganger pulls away, and Vash stretches his face into the best semblance of a grin that he can manage. He'll never run from what he's done here -- that's part of what makes it such an effective cage. The hum deep beneath his ribs shivers a moment longer, then begins to fade -- Knives has no interest in revisiting Vash's anguish over July, again. The silence leaves him shivering and gasping for air as the feathers retract back into wherever they live beneath his skin.

He's in July again? ...Okay. Okay. ]

I killed them.

[ The city around them wavers as though in a heat wave, or like a mirage, the horrors settling away into the rough red soil beneath them. When it refocuses July is still destroyed around them, but it's some time later -- the fires have been extinguished, the bodies claimed or buried by the drifting sands. It's a ghost town, and they're the ghosts.

Vash's feathers have fully vanished, but he still holds his right arm tightly over his chest, the fingers of his prosthetic gripping bruises around his other wrist. His smile is a rictus mask. ]

But you know this, if you're supposed to be me.

[ It's unsettling to watch even though Vash knows full well why he would smile even in a situation like this while admitting something so terrible. Having it be turned on himself makes him understand Meryl and her perturbed reaction a little better though. At least his other self seems coherent again and it's a slight relief to see the feathers recede back into his body as he feels his own resonance fade. His double won't be needing Vash's particular help then. That's good given that he doesn't even know if it would work in the first place.

His horrified gaze is drawn away from his other self back to their surroundings as they shimmer and shift to settle into something later. It's a small mercy to no longer be smelling scorched flesh and smoke, but it does little to make him feel any better when he knows how much life must have been lost in the destruction of such a big city. ]

No, this didn't happen.

[ Yet?

... No. No, this is just a bad dream. Nothing here is real and it's probably just his fear of what happened in Jeneora Rock happening again elsewhere being manifested. Whenever he and Nai meet, death and destruction tend to follow. But he has little choice in the matter, he made a promise and he needs to get the Plants back. If he doesn't, people will die. He won't let this — whatever this is — scare him off from chasing after his twin. He'll stop Nai, somehow. Something like this won't happen.

His expression hardens with his resolve when he looks back at the other Vash, determined. ]

July is where I'm going.

[ Ah. So this didn't happen yet. He's just looping forever, then, eternally cycling through deaths: Rem dies. Knives takes his arm. July. At least this time some of the details were different -- maybe Legato is getting tired and his control over Vash's memories is fragmenting.

Or maybe he's been trapped here long enough that he's going mad. ]

Next time we're back on the ship, if I'm not me, will you tell Rem I love her please? [ She'd said it to them this time, more directly than she had when it really happened, and for all the wrongness of that version of his life, those words had been so good to hear.

A petty thought occurs to him, something that he's sure will be a burr under Legato's skin. ]

And next time, don't forget. You get to shoot Knives before he takes our arm.

[ Petty. So petty. Not a good memory at all, but to hell with good and bad. He just needs to survive this, until he can escape, or... Or. Or whatever comes next. ]

[ Vash isn't entirely sure what his other self means with "if I'm not me" but it's such an earnest and easy request that he doesn't hesitate agreeing for even a second. The words are practically out of his mouth before he's even fully considered them. ]

Yes, of course.

[ Rem had often told them how much she loved them and, in hindsight, it doesn't feel like he got to express the sentiment back to her nearly enough. If he continues to have any agency in the dream at all — even if he still can't do anything to save her — then he'll content himself by being able to tell her at least that much. That's hardly an ask at all when it's something he desperately wants to do himself if given the chance. He'll tell her next time, if he can.

The next statement coming from his double makes... much less sense. Vash's brows furrow in his obvious confusion, head tilting to one side as he considers his other self with puzzlement. ]

What do you mean?

[ Yes, he'd been given ample opportunity to shoot his twin when Nai had first pressed the gun into his hands, but he never would have done it. He'd been too shocked and scared, frozen to the spot until his brother advanced on Luida and the threat to her life had finally spurred him into action. That's unlikely to change in the dream. Besides, it would make no sense to shoot Nai then because... ]

He took our arm to save us.

[ If he had managed to shoot Nai first then his brother likely wouldn't have been able to cut his arm and Vash would've been consumed by the gate he'd unintentionally opened. He'd felt the pull, had been getting more unsteady on his feet as it gained strength and started drawing in everything with the increasing intensity of a black hole. To this day, Vash still doesn't fully understand what happened, but he knows that what Nai did saved him and everyone else remaining in that room. There's a lot he's upset about when it comes to his brother, but the loss of his arm isn't one of those things. That the other Vash brings it up like this is strange to him to say the least. ]

He killed that town to save us!

[ This whole dream has been a reimagining of his past, and he won't deny that some of it was kinder than the life he's led, but those are still his memories! There's no way he's going to allow this puppet of himself to change what he knows to be true. Around them, the ruins of July sink further into the sand, slipping beneath the surface until only fragments remains, like the ruins of a much smaller city. ]

He didn't...! [ His gesture is cut short by the shackle around his wrist and a jingle of chain. Vash stares down in horror at the restraint, and then at the much younger wrist its locked around. He's a teenager again – although it's more accurate to say he's eighty again, in worn canvas trousers and an undershirt, chained to a piller in the center of a dusty bandit's town.

His arm is returned, too, and he swallows hard at the realization that it's only present because this scene hasn't played out yet. Knives is still coming. ]

He didn't have to do it, [ He repeats, forcing himself to speak slowly, clearly. Trying hard to pretend that his heart isn't rabbiting away in his chest, his child self terrified of what's still to come. ] There were children in this town, he could have cut the chain and we could have gotten away!

[ Are there bodies now, hanging out of windows and collapsed in the alleyways of the town around them? Vash doesn't want to look. He doesn't want to see them, not again. He keeps his gaze on his doppelganger and wills his voice not to tremble as he speaks. ]

I won't deny that he saved me, but it didn't have to happen like this!

[ Town? Vash is about to echo the word aloud in his confusion until the shifting scenery distracts him, making him avert his gaze from his double to watch the buildings sink into the sand. The result is yet another place he doesn't recognize, but given everything they've seen so far, he's already feeling a sense of deep foreboding. One that only increases exponentially when the cut-off sentence and the jangle of chains draws his attention back to find his older self now looking younger and whole, chained to a pillar. He looks so small and scared. Although Vash has no idea what he's talking about, he knows he's upset his doppelganger without meaning to and that's led to... whatever this is.

It's becoming clear that they're the same, but also not. Beyond the differences in their appearances, the memories are different, too. Vash has no idea what that means, if this dream is trying to tell him something or if this is even a dream at all anymore and not something else entirely. He has no answers, he can only go along and hope something will make sense at some point or he wakes up. ]

I'm sorry.

[ It's all he can offer as he watches this teenaged other try to be brave. He can smell the iron scent of blood in the air and as tempted as he is to look, he's seen more than enough death already and so he staunchly keeps his eyes on his other self. He moves closer to the pillar, reaching for the chain to see if he can interact with it in the hopes of freeing the other Vash. His voice is soft and apologetic as he continues to speak. ]

This never happened for me.

[ Young Vash yanks again on the chain, harder, but the links are solid and the cuff holds. His other self approaches, looking like he's going to try and help, but without the key to the shackle, what can he do? ]

I hate this memory. I don't want to be here!

[ He can't control the tremble in his voice, or stop the tears that are beginning to well up. This is a child's memory, with a child's feelings, and he's trapped in his younger self as much as his younger self is trapped in this dusty town square.

For all his sneering a moment ago about getting to shoot Knives first, now that the moment is playing out again, there's no win here. There's no victory. They'll have their old argument -- Knives threatening to kill every last human on the planet, Vash begging him to stop, and then?

No. No, he doesn't want to think about it. ] Help me! [ It doesn't matter if his other self is an avatar of Legato or not -- stuck in this memory version of himself, he doesn't even remember Legato exists. But his older self is here.

Vash claws out, frantic, grabbing at the other version of himself wherever he can reach, holding on for dear life. ]

I wanna go somewhere safe. I wanna go home! [ He can feel Knives approaching like a thunderstorm on the horizon, and his voice cracks as he begs. It'll take him days to get free of the shackle with only one arm, he'll have to break his own hand to do it, don't make him live through this again! ] Please, I want to go home!

[ Upon first glance, Vash can tell that whoever chained his other self up in this nightmare-memory did an excellent job of making sure that it'll be exceedingly difficult to free him without a key. The chain looks sturdy and new, no rust or weak points to exploit that he can spot. His now-younger self's wavering voice cuts right into his heart, filling him with urgency and empathic anxiety as he hastily considers his options. Try shooting the chain despite the lack of weak points and hope for the best? Find a way to shoot the cuff without hurting him? That would be very tricky, but—

The other Vash's frightened pleas encroach on his thoughts and he's further distracted when small hands catch desperate hold of his coat. There's no time, he realizes. He can hear the approaching footsteps behind him that bring a sense of mounting dread. Whatever horrible thing happens here that leads to his double's loss of his arm, he doesn't want the other Vash to re-live the moment any more than he wants to see it happen. He moves without thinking, not even sparing a single glance to what's behind him as he shifts and positions himself to be fully between his other self and the approaching figure. He reaches out and pulls the young Vash close in a tight embrace, pressing his young self's face against his chest even as he sinks to his knees and leans over his other's much smaller frame as if Vash can protect his double from what's coming with his body alone. ]

It's okay, I'm right here.

[ He whispers fiercely even as his own heart beats a frantic staccato in his chest. He doesn't know if he can even do anything here, if he can influence the other Vash's memory in any meaningful way or if this is going to play out no matter what he does, but he resolves not to budge. Whatever happens, he won't let his other self go through this alone. He's not going anywhere.

It does occur to him that, even though he might not be able to change the memory with his presence, he might be able to do something else. They've been bouncing between each other's memories and therein lies a possible solution. If he can't affect the other Vash's memory of this event, then maybe he can simply pull him into one of his own. Vash could give him what he's asking for: home. It's the only other thing he can think to do as the footsteps get ever closer, he tunes out his growing panic and fills his head with only thoughts of Home — Ship Three, his room, the pictures he used to have hanging above his comfortable bed of himself with various crew members as they worked. It doesn't even cross his mind that it might not be what the other self thinks of as home, it's just the first thing that springs to his mind and it's safe.

He can see some of the sand start to bleed into a familiar floor pattern and with a surge of hope, he squeezes his eyes shut and wills them to be Home with all his might while he murmurs reassuringly to his child self: ]

Don't be afraid.

[ With his face buried in the other Vash's shoulder, Vash doesn't notice when the dream morphs around them again, or when he's back in his adult body again. All he knows is that, for once, he's not alone. So many of his memories are the same -- the monsters come, and then there's pain, and grief -- but this time, for the very first time, there's somebody else there. Someone warm, and strong. Someone safe, to stand between him and the bad things, even if just for a moment.

It's only the emotional regulation that comes with being back in his adult form that finally lets Vash realize that something's changed. The sounds around him aren't the wind across the clay brick houses -- it's the regular hum of machinery, like what you'd find inside-- ]

--a ship?

[ With an embarrassed sniffle he extracts himself from the other Vash's embrace, rubbing the back of his hand roughly across his face to wipe away all traces of his crying jag as he sits back on his heels, not entirely trusting his legs to hold him up just yet. July had been a trauma that rocked him to his very moral center, but losing his arm had nearly killed him. Knives had nearly killed him. ]

Where are we this time?

[ Vash is so focused on recalling his room — grasping for every single detail he can think of, every inch of the walls — that he doesn't even realize right away that the surroundings are changing or that his arms suddenly feel much fuller than before. There's a bit of a delay before he registers that he can no longer smell the iron scent of blood on the wind; that there's no wind at all. The relief that hits him when he opens his eyes and sees the familiar confines of his room is overwhelming enough to make his eyes sting just a little. It worked.

If it weren't for his double — now fully grown again — pulling himself out of Vash's arms and reminding him of his presence, he might have let out a delirious laugh. He contains it to a warm smile instead as the other him works on regaining his composure. Vash stays put where he is, kneeling on the floor, even though he wants nothing more than to fling himself onto his bed and bury his face in his pillow like he's a child all over again, feeling giddy with the sheer relief yet utterly drained by the intensity of the emotional whirlwind they've been going through at the same time. It would be rude to his 'guest' and he doesn't think he can quite pick himself up from the floor just yet anyway.

Although he might just be vaguely contemplating listing sideways and becoming a graceless heap on the floor until his other self's question surprises him. Does he not realize where they are because from where he's seated the room looks like any other standard one on the ships or because he doesn't have Home at all? (The latter Vash can't bear to think about, it's too sad.) ]

This is Home. Ship Three.

[ He nods towards the bed behind his double, the wall plastered with photos of his time on this ship as well as traveling with Brad, helping other survivors with their plants, and in the middle his oldest photo of Rem together with him and Nai. It's his room as it looked when he was young, the collection of pictures will be safely tucked away and only the single framed group picture on his table will remain later on. It's the childhood comfort he'd been craving.

There's a pang of something akin to guilt that he didn't think of their original home with Rem back on Ship Five, but he knows this is for the better because... ]

It's the safest place I could think of. Nothing bad should happen here.

[ There's only the moment where Luida and Brad thought he was deceiving them, leading up to the loss of his own arm, but nothing horrible happens within the walls of the ship itself. His idea of safety and belonging in this place remains intact, untainted by trauma, its sanctity in Vash's mind untouched by his brother. Nai has never set foot in this space and so they should be safe from their twin here. It's a space where they can finally (hopefully) catch their breath if it holds. ]

Home.

[ He's never called the ship that, not out loud, but he knows immediately what his double means. The ship that didn't crash, the safest place in the entire world, yes, floating above the dryness and death of the planet below.

His double nods to a wall covers in pictures and, granted permission, Vash gives in to his curiosity. That last memory left him feeling shaky and drained, and he wobbles a bit in getting to his feet. But he lost his arm half a lifetime ago -- that pain is old, dulled with time, just one more nightmare to shove to the back of his mind and try very hard to ignore.

The pictures aren't familiar, but they are. The people, the parts of the ship he can see, even the plants aren't the same, but he still knows them. He recognizes locations, systems... and he's pretty sure that one guy has Brad's hair. ]

This is where I came... after. [ He rubs at his left shoulder, just above the implanted circuitry that allows his prosthetic to function. ] After I got free, they found me in the desert and brought me back here. My version of here.

[ He turns, then, regarding his double with a considering gaze. ]

You're not Legato, are you?

[ Legato might stir up his memories and make him see different versions of his past, but there's no way he would have spared Vash from losing his arm just now. Not after that crack about shooting the glorious Knives. ]

I don't understand what's happening here.

[ He thinks he hears some recognition in the other Vash's voice and he's glad when he gets confirmation once his other self has gotten a look at his treasured pictures on the wall. The thought of not having Home is, frankly, unbearable. He can't even imagine what his life might be like without Luida and Brad in it. Even more bleaker, he's sure. If he would have survived at all without their help in the first place. It sounds like that's the case for his double as well except that it happens later. Much later. Even without the gesture of his other self rubbing his shoulder, he understands what he means and it's... all wrong compared to his own timeline. How did he survive on his own for so long?

Vash wants to ask, but the other Vash is turning towards him and saying the same name he said before. He shakes his head in response to the question, answering with an honest admittance. ]

No, I don't even really know who that is. I'm just Vash.

[ Whatever it means to be just 'Vash' when there's two of them. He has no idea what's going on and hearing his doppelganger give voice to that sentiment gets a wry, sheepish laugh out of him. They're very much on the same page here. At last, it feels like. ]

You and me both. I guess we're alike, but... different? I came here right after— well, the crash.

[ He doesn't think he'll have to elaborate that he means Ship Five, that part of their history seems largely the same. It's one more thing that's similar yet so different between them. Vash finally pushes himself up onto his feet so he can take the few steps necessary to close the distance to his bed where he proceeds to take a seat on the edge of it. Definitely having taken notice of the other him's understandable case of the wobbly legs, he pats the empty space next to him as an invitation to sit down comfortably. ]

I don't know what any of this means. I've never dreamed like this before.

We call it the Big Fall.

[ He accepts the offer of a seat with a small smile, but still takes a seat as far down the bed away from his double as he reasonably can. It's nothing personal -- it's just caution. At any moment this might turn into another fight, after all, like it did the last time he was home.

If this version of Vash falls apart into puppet pieces -- or, worse, turns on him smiling with his gun drawn -- Vash doesn't want to be sitting hip to hip with him when it happens. ]

Legato works for... for our brother. [ He doesn't have any reason to believe that saying Knives's name will summon him, or change the dream in any way, but again, after that last memory, he's feeling cautious. ] I think that's where I am right now, on his ship, under guard.

[ His attention keeps coming back to the picture in the center of the wall, where an eternally smiling Rem poses with two little kids, and Vash can't help but swallow back his jealousy. What he wouldn't give to have a picture just like that. ]

That's what I thought you were at first. Another one of Legato's illusions. [ He turns back to his double with a feeble attempt at a smile. ] But Legato wouldn't have brought me here.

[ Vash takes no offense when his other self opts to take a seat on the bed as far away as he possibly can from him. After everything they just went through, he understands the need for space. Especially from "himself". It should probably be unsettling to sit with some distorted mirror of yourself, but here Vash can't help but feel at ease in the safety of his own room. So far the other Vash has done nothing to indicate he might mean to harm him either. Hence why he doesn't share the wariness despite how weird the entire situation is. He sticks to his corner of the bed respectfully, merely listening to his double explain. Perhaps avoiding speaking Nai's name is rather silly, but Vash appreciates it all the same when he desperately wants to them to stay in a space that's safe for them.

The other Vash's explanation goes on to raise as many questions as it answers. (His brother has a ship?) At least he knows who Legato is now and that goes a long way to help him understand the hostility from before and the continued caution now, putting into perspective things said and the cautious distance kept. ]

Sounds like a troublesome person.

[ To say the least. He shudders to think what actually facing someone with such a power would be like. There's... a lot he would like to ask and he has to take a moment to consider where to start and how to go about treading lightly for fear of the dream changing again. To buy himself some time, he throws out a casual: ]

You can take it if you want.

[ Because the lingering look at the photograph didn't go unnoticed and so Vash motions to it. It's a dream and so it might not mean anything and disappear again, but it's the thought that probably counts, right? He hesitates briefly before he presses on, posing his first question. ]

Why is he keeping you there?

[ You can take it, the other him says, and the generosity of the offer makes Vash's heart ache. Silently, smiling his gratitude, he shakes his head no. Even if it's a dream, he can't take something so precious. He's got his Rem in his heart, and that's been enough for a hundred and fifty years. It'll be enough for as long as it needs to be.

The next statement, however, is harder to address. ]

He's... different than the one you know, I think.

[ Sure, he watched this Vash's Knives trigger the Great Fall, an unforgiveable act, but... Tessla's death was unforgiveable too, wasn't it? And Knives was always so sensitive. Vash doesn't want to excuse his actions as the rash impulse of a child, but really, in so many ways, isn't that exactly what it was? And besides, this Vash is adamant that Knives took his arm to save him. Their relationship is so different than the one he has with his brother, different enough that Vash has no idea how his words will land. ]

He wants this world to be just for us. For us and our sisters. [ And really, Vash thinks wryly, it'd be a planet just for Knives, with Vash and the rest of the plants held hostage to his whims. ] I tracked him down, and confronted him about it, and he...

[ Well. There's no easy way to say it, is there? ]

He's holding me until he decides to kill me.

[ Vash has no qualms giving away the picture when he has that same exact photo tucked safely away in his inner coat pocket, always resting over his heart. It feels like the least he can do to provide some sort of comfort after dragging his other self through his worst memories, but the other Vash shakes his head and he decides not to press it for now. He gets too preoccupied hanging onto his double's careful words regarding his brother, the statement that they're different in some way more than enough to pique his curiosity.

He doesn't sound so different at first when it appears they have the selfsame goal — a paradise meant only for them and the plants where humankind has no place — but the more the other Vash goes on, the more uneasy he feels. Tracking him down and confronting Nai is exactly what he's doing at the moment and he has to wonder if he'll end up in the same position.

Except his other self goes on to say something that he can't comprehend his own twin doing and it bleeds out into his expression, making him look as stricken as he feels. ]

Mine wants the same, but... I don't think he would ever kill me.

[ He almost asks his double if he's sure that's truly what his brother intends to do. The only reason he holds his tongue is because of what he was about to witness mere moments ago. From the bits of context given, their twin didn't cut off the other Vash's arm to save him, but to— what? Punish him? Vash doesn't dare ask when the thought alone is enough to make him feel ill.

He doesn't think his Nai could kill him any more than he can kill Nai. They're both desperate to sway the other to their side, to make each other see what they consider to be reason, and so they keep going in circles with no end in sight. He knows Nai will never listen to him and yet there's nothing Vash can do but try to talk to him. Despite everything, he loves his brother and Nai loves him. To think Nai — any version of him — would give up on him and decide to get rid of him instead... it stings more than a little. All he can think to say is: ]

I'm sorry.

Mmm.

[ It stings a lot, Vash would agree with that. For all that's happened, after everything their brother has done, he still loves Knives dearly. He can't imagine there's anything that would make him stop loving him, and he thinks Knives feels the same way, but he's seen enough of humanity to know that sometimes it's the ones you love who hurt you the most. ]

He only has three options, you know? [ He leans back a little, taking in all the details of the room as he speaks, concentrating on remaining in the here and now. The last thing he wants is for this conversation to drag them both onto the ark. His double's seen enough of his tragedies already -- he doesn't need to see Vash's cage. ] He'll never change my mind, and he knows this. So he'll keep me restrained as long as he can, but... [ Unconsciously, Vash rubs at a scar at the base of his right wrist -- a souvenir of that shackle. ] ...I always get free eventually. [ And that only leaves one option. ] And I won't stop trying to stop him.

[ This room didn't come of out his imagination. It can't have -- look at the detail! Look at the differences! More than that, look at the similarities! That guy in that picture is Brad, he's sure of it, but here he is on the ship years before his Brad was even born! What's the point of this dream, if not...?

The idea hits him like a shot in the back and Vash stiffens, the realization overwhelming. He's turning to the other Vash and speaking before he's even really thought things through, but as he speaks, something about his words sounds right. It sounds true. ]

I keep thinking this is my dream... but what if it's yours? [ Dreamers sometimes know they're dreaming, but do dreams know they're dreams? ] What if I'm here to warn you about him? About what he's capable of?

[ What if I'm not real? ]

[ It makes perfect sense what his double goes on to explain and Vash knows, deep down, for it to be true. Both he and Nai are far too stubborn to ever back down from their beliefs and they'll remain in a stalemate until something finally gives. Between the two of them, Nai is the far more decisive one and it'll likely be him who will cut his losses and change tacks. Logically, he understands that this is the road they're on and it might not be such a terrible stretch of the imagination that he'll end up just like his doppelganger, and yet... In his heart, he just can't see it, can't believe Nai would decide to eventually just kill him.

He's pulled from his internal struggle by his other self shifting like something important just occurred to him and Vash is instinctively straightening and turning more towards him in turn, blinking in surprise at the sudden question. What the other Vash says feels like it could be right. Wouldn't it make sense for his subconscious to conjure up something to caution him by manifesting all his fears into awful possible futures-to-be the closer he gets to July?

Still, this feels like going too far. ]

I— He wouldn't...

[ He starts feebly. Vash can't (doesn't want to) consider such a thing happening. He drops his gaze down to his hands where they're resting in his lap and steadily curling into fists, his shoulders hunching as though he's trying to retreat into his coat. Even back when Nai had saved his life by cutting off his arm and Vash had pointed the gun Nai gave him at his twin's head, Nai hadn't been angry with him. He'd just looked so hurt. It's an expression that haunts him.

With Vash now fully facing his other self on the other end of his bed, he has his back to the open doorway leading into the hall, meaning he's oblivious to the dull red light that's starting to seep into the hallway the more he lingers on the memory. His double might be here for the very reasons he's pondering aloud, but Vash sees little point to it because... ]

Would it even change anything?

[ The other Vash can warn him, but it'll do nothing to alter his course. He still has to go to July to retrieve the plants and he'll never be the one to decide to kill Nai. They both know that. ]

[ If he recognized that red light as a looming change in the dream's shape, Vash would naturally warn his double. But this ship is odd, and he has no frame of reference for what might be usual or unusual.

Instead, his gaze turns to the floor, as he wearily rubs at the back of his neck. ]

I don't know. I don't know what could change, I don't know what I could have done differently. [ Given how powerful Knives had become, any fight he might have planned was over before he even walked in. ] Part of it's revenge, but part of it is that, deep down, he's... he's terrified, really, that if the humans are left unchecked they'll do to us what they did to her.

[ He will not say her name. Not here. ]

I don't know how to stop him. I don't know what to say to make him hear.

[ Of course his other self doesn't have the answer when he himself doesn't. They're caught in an impossible situation that has no easy solution or even much of a solution at all with how things stand. In the face of his brother's powers and conviction, he knows he has little chance. It makes him feel as small and helpless as when he'd first reunited and faced Nai after the Big Fall; those feelings reflecting in how the dream reverts him back to that age, leaving him as his teenaged self in his ratty tank top suddenly taking up much less space on the bed. He makes himself even smaller by pulling up his legs to where he can hug them to his chest in the circle of his (whole) arms, still oblivious to the rotten red light intensifying in the hallway and how the floor there is slowly distorting to resemble a walkway.

It hadn't quite occurred to him before that Nai — the one with the powers — would be so terrified but hearing the other Vash say it makes it click in his head. Seeing what they'd done to her had broken something in his twin and Vash never realized until it was much, much too late. ]

I wish he would just listen.

[ Because he never really does. More than anything he wishes that he could make Nai see what he sees in humanity, that his brother doesn't have to be so afraid, that there is as much good as there is bad and that's the whole point, isn't it? The potential of them and the choices they make in their short lives. Every human deserves a chance and the opportunity to learn from their mistakes and do better. Like Rem. Vash knows they're capable of it, why can't Nai see it? Why won't he trust Vash? ]

[ Knives had always been the more sensitive of the two of them. He'd felt things more deeply, cried more readily, quick to laugh and quick to protest at any perceived wrong. As a child, Vash had simply been frightened for Knives when he'd fallen unconscious after finding her -- as an adult, Vash has often wondered if there had been a real change there, in Knives. In both of them. He'd tried to die, but Rem had saved him. Knives was trying to kill... and Rem wasn't here to help him. It was all on his shoulders now. ]

I don't...

[ He's on his feet before he's finished talking, gun drawn and moving between the other Vash -- the younger, so much more fragile looking Vash -- and whatever nightmare is seeping into the room. ]

Something's coming.

[ He holds out his prosthetic hand to his double, if he'll take it, eyes on the door. ]

I've got you.

[ Who knows how long it'll last, but for now, at least, they're not alone anymore. ]

It's that one where you have to give a speech to a crowd of bears and wasps again

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sorry, have a novel jkahjs

giant tags best tags! i love this so much

weh thank you, this thread was such a treat ♡

it was so good, thank you so much!

no thank YOU ;3;