Vash The Stampede (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
doubledollar) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kaisou2023-05-06 02:39 am
doubledollar) wrote in kaisou2023-05-06 02:39 am
Entry tags:
SeeD 4 - Pour Another One
WHO: Dante + Wolfood + Vash, maybe an appearance of Libra
WHERE: vASH'S cottage out in the woods, on his farmgarden
WHEN: Some time after Vergil's BearLog
WHAT: Dante shows up at Vash and Wolfwood's place needing to loosen the brain a bit. Three idiots get drunk.
WARNINGS: Alchohol, probably a lot of flirting. Three idiots getting drunk and having a good time, whatever that might entail. Might have some violence at the start? The three of them love guns.
[ it hasn't gotten super late yet--late enough that the single sun was setting, leaving the sky a somewhat orange-greying hue as he and at least one of his roommates sit with him next to the river out back behind the cottage. There's a bit of a rocky beachlike area next to it, and since Vash has come to live there, he had made it one of his first personal projects to dig a sort of fire pit down there. Surrounded with rocks and close enough to the water to be easily put out--he and Wolfwood are sitting together on a big, fallen log that he'd dragged over some weeks ago to sit on.
There's some roasting sticks put over a crackling fire that's going in the pit--with a half dozen gutted river fish hanging over it, as well as some silvery wrapped vegetables from the garden thrown directly onto the embers under the live flame. Dinner prep for people who don't have electricity, go.
Between them there's also a few bottles of amber-coloured liquid, and as they're cooking dinner, they've cracked into a small drink. Nothing wrong with a bit of whiskey before dinner.
They aren't exactly expecting a visitor so late, but. It's not like Vash will be opposed when Dante does show up--but for now he's focused on idle chatter with his friend. ]
Yeah, no, worms in this world are pathetic. They're like, single-bodied tubes that wiggle around in the dirt. No eyes, no wings, and they're slimy, too.
I met a real good kid in town a few days ago who taught me how to fish, so. While we can't really keep fresh meat out here, you can probably try some of this to see if it's to your taste.
[ no fish on noman's land, who knows if wolfwood would like it. ]
WHERE: vASH'S cottage out in the woods, on his farmgarden
WHEN: Some time after Vergil's BearLog
WHAT: Dante shows up at Vash and Wolfwood's place needing to loosen the brain a bit. Three idiots get drunk.
WARNINGS: Alchohol, probably a lot of flirting. Three idiots getting drunk and having a good time, whatever that might entail. Might have some violence at the start? The three of them love guns.
[ it hasn't gotten super late yet--late enough that the single sun was setting, leaving the sky a somewhat orange-greying hue as he and at least one of his roommates sit with him next to the river out back behind the cottage. There's a bit of a rocky beachlike area next to it, and since Vash has come to live there, he had made it one of his first personal projects to dig a sort of fire pit down there. Surrounded with rocks and close enough to the water to be easily put out--he and Wolfwood are sitting together on a big, fallen log that he'd dragged over some weeks ago to sit on.
There's some roasting sticks put over a crackling fire that's going in the pit--with a half dozen gutted river fish hanging over it, as well as some silvery wrapped vegetables from the garden thrown directly onto the embers under the live flame. Dinner prep for people who don't have electricity, go.
Between them there's also a few bottles of amber-coloured liquid, and as they're cooking dinner, they've cracked into a small drink. Nothing wrong with a bit of whiskey before dinner.
They aren't exactly expecting a visitor so late, but. It's not like Vash will be opposed when Dante does show up--but for now he's focused on idle chatter with his friend. ]
Yeah, no, worms in this world are pathetic. They're like, single-bodied tubes that wiggle around in the dirt. No eyes, no wings, and they're slimy, too.
I met a real good kid in town a few days ago who taught me how to fish, so. While we can't really keep fresh meat out here, you can probably try some of this to see if it's to your taste.
[ no fish on noman's land, who knows if wolfwood would like it. ]
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Shit, [ scars say a lot about a guy and vash is littered with them, with bits of metal, and it makes dante almost feel... sad. maybe it's the whiskey, maybe it's the fact he knows intimately the sort of violence that inflicts scars like that, maybe it's the fact that vash isn't the kind of guy to hurt a fly. but his chest aches slightly and dante unconsciously tightens his grip around wolfwood's waist. ] I don't know what you were talking about, Vash. You look perfectly fine without a shirt on, chicks dig scars you know?
[ he attempts to inject levity back in his voice but it doesn't quite work, the smile on his face doesn't quite reach. ]
If you're cold you can always shift closer, I always run warm.
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He's gonna sit like a petulant child on the log with his shirt missing and frown loudly about it because not only did the man steal his sweater but he now has the audacity to wear the goddamn thing.
It does soothe his metaphorical wounds when dante does offer him that sort of compliment though, giving a goofy sort of laugh as he presses his knees together, arm shooting down to try to grope out wherever it was he dropped his shot glass. ]
Idunno, I think the gentle eyes of most ladies would be pretty put off, but it means a lot to hear you say that anyway.
[ it's always a point of embarrassment to him, he doesn't like the horrified look some people give him when they see the mess on his skin. ...Maybe he'll press up against dante anyway, because maybe he is cold!!! it's only early spring, but also. Dante's leather coat is nice and warm. His cheek is gonna squish right up against the man's upper arm as he gives an annoyed sigh. ]
Another demon thing, huh.
Do you get scars when you heal up like that?
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Wolfwood does take a moment to really look at Vash now that he has him peeled--once again, noting the differences between the man he knew and the man in front of him. no matter how many times Vash says that Wolfwood is Wolfwood, how many times Vash says something and he sounds just like Wolfwood's lamb to the slaughter, there's just enough things that are... off. Different.
the titty grate is new. The scars are also a lot deeper and more jagged, bitten into Vash. he wonders if he still has the implant on his spine, but he can't see it from this angle. Vash muses about women as Dante reassures him, and Wolfwood peels his tongue from behind his teeth. ]
Does that make Dante chicks.
[ deadpan and flat, helping nobody in the conversation as Dante holds him both steady and hostage; so he lays one of the sweater sleeves overtop Dante's head as he kind of leans on it with a sway. ]
C'mon, Needlenoggin. If a girl can't look at you and keep it together, she's not gonna be able to keep up with you. The way you look is the least of your problems.
[ he's helping? and kind of slipping off Dante please don't go anywhere arm you're his only hope ]
Is this the part of the night where people's clothes come off so ya'll can compare scars?
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[ dante doesn't seem to mind when wolfwood leans on him, trying to shift the sleeve that falls in front of his vision with a short puff of breath - it works just enough for dante to be able to see vash. he won't lie that looking over him does make dante wonder about the story behind the scars, each one would have a story after all and he can tell from here that they are varying ages. some look old, some a little newer. ]
He's right you know, if a girl or guy can't get spooked from just this? Then they're just not worth it. Someone who really cares won't give a crap if you're covered in scars of missing ninety percent of your limbs.
[ vash does shift up against him, his natural body heat seeping through shirt and coat. dante shifts a little to make a little bit of space, his other arm lazily draping around vash's shoulders as wolfwood starts to slip a little. even with his mind somewhat muddled by the whiskey dante is quick to pull wolfwood back in, securing the hold he has around the other man's waist. ]
Not really, heal too fast for a scar to settle. [ if he didn't then... well he'd be as covered in scars as vash is. ] Who knows, maybe, but I've got my hands full right you two so maybe later?
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Maybe everyone should dig scars. [ he grumbles with some small amount of childishness to it. He's got his shot glass in his hand again, and he's probably looking to get it refilled, but--he squints at it, noticing that its brief time in the beach sand got it all gritty on the inside. lame. time to abandon it, he supposes. ]
Talk about a confidence boost, though. [ he actually, legitimately feels uplifted? weirdly? by the fact that both wolfwood and dante are saying something like that? it isn't long before he's gone back to grinning like a goon as ... dante's arm comes to settle over his shoulders.
His eyes widen a bit and he blinks. Looking up at dante a little like a deer in the headlights.
...It's been. Years? Since he'd gotten a hug? When was the last person? ...His whiskey-addled brain can't? actually remember when?
So
uh
dont
mind if he
leans right into it
he's just cold
yep
hes just cold. ]
Hmm. Both of you with your fast healing. It's not fair, you know. If Demons can can heal that fast, so should I, yanno. [ he isn't about to be rude and rip dante's shirt off though WOLFWOOD you jerk.
there's a crime about stealing someone's nice leather jacket. ]
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[ Wolfwood is squinting a little as he tries to focus while he imparts his sage wisdom from the depths of his ill-begotten hoodie. And hey, Vash, I thought having your blanket stolen totes wasn't a problem? Where was all that bravado in this moment, where Wolfwood has acquired three layers of torso clothing to your none. ]
Scars are a story, ain't they? Who you are, where you've been, what failed to take you out. Why you're makin' that everyone around you's problem, since God hasn't managed to take you out yet. [ Wolfwood's idea of compliments for people who are not children are probably... a little weird. He's a little focus-brained on the concept of survival, of doing whatever it took to make it to tomorrow so you could get your goals squared away.
He's also very, very drunk. He catches Vash's pout at his shot glass and briefly looks around for his own, likely lost in the forward dive to get Vash's sweet hoodie, and decides that the shot glass belongs to the streets now. He makes a move with Dante's sturdy help, getting his legs stretched out so he isn't kneeling all of his weight directly into Dante's tree trunk of a thigh, moving to sit on it instead, the arm that'd been on top of his head hooking around his neck instead as he goes on a mission.
a bending mission. he comes up successful with the mostly empty bottle of whiskey and it's sexier, fuller twin. ]
Anybody wanna call dibs on the last swig from the first bottle? [ he is a kind and benevolent bottle overlord, still squinting to make his eyes work good.
also that's coward shit, Vash the Wimpede--just as children crave the mines, Dante craves to be shirtless. set him free. ]
I mean if you wanna shoot me a little right now, I'd scar if it healed. I could be your new twin. My murderous tendencies are on a much more manageable scale, I feel.
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his fingers lightly dance across one of vash's scars as wolfwood talks, gaze flicking up toward the man he can't properly see. ]
Exactly. They're stories. Some good, some bad, some hilarious. [ dante has his fair share of those, more than he can properly count. ] They're proof you're still kicking, that you're strong─ woah.
[ he cuts himself off as wolfwood shifts on his lap, his weight moving from the specific spot on his thigh to stretching out across his lap. he shifts a little, and adjusts his hold on the other man as he bends down to retrieve the bottles of whiskey. oh, yeah, he had almost forgotten they were down there. ]
Give it here. [ because frankly he deserves it. ] Might need some help though. [ though in truth dante could easily let go of one of them to take the last swig from the bottle, but he's frankly comfortable and doesn't exactly want to let go of vash now that the other is leaning against him. so please, oh kind and benevolent bottle overload, do a guy a solid.
though before that can even happen dante is screwing up his nose, giving wolfwood an almost dead pan expression. ]
No one else is getting shot tonight, not with that gun. I don't feel like digging a bullet out with my teeth tonight.
[ which is to say dante would definitely dig a bullet out with his teeth if he had to. ]
Healing fast isn't all that it's cracked up to be, honest. Makes drinking a pain in the ass.
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[ he wobbles as Dante is pushed and manhandled around a bit by wolfwood looking for the extra booze. He's squooshed right up against Dante's side, so he's pulled along for the ride a little, bracing an arm around the man's middle to try to keep himself from wobbling right off the log. digging his heels into gritty riverbank sand, he's gonna laugh a little loudly with a lift to his shoulders. ]
I only got one arm but here, I'll help, givvit. [ He's gonna wiggle that arm up that was bracing Dante for a second, reaching to snatch that mostly-empty bottle in his hand. Tipping it up so he can drip the rest of it down into dante's mouth with a grin on his face. ]
Mmmmn, no shooting. No more shooting. I don't like it when my friends get shot.
I don't even have my feathers to protect you so you can't go getting shot anymore.
[ he drops the now empty bottle down onto the sandy riverbank, dropping his chin onto his palm. ]
Oh noooo. Wait does that mean you'll need more to even get a bit more drunk.
Got another whole bottle at least...
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Vash reaches for the mostly empty bottle and Wolfwood gives it easily enough, leaving the blond to his devices as he feeds Dante the last of that bottle's booze as Wolfwood dedicates all of his own pretty, sodden brain to opening the other, untouched bottle.
he's momentarily distracted when both men deny him his fun scar adventure, pouting a little--and giving Vash a Look when he mentions feathers, having not even the foggiest idea as to what that's supposed to mean, and that's a problem for like, three days from now sober Wolfwood to contemplate. there are more pressing things.
like Dante not being as drunk as he and Vash are. ]
Well, that's no fun. You gotta catch up to us, big D.
[ and Wolfwood, being the giver that he is when he thinks it'll be funny to do, peels off the cheap wax and conquers the twist-cap to free the next bottle of booze, the whiskey immediately making its way to Dante's face hole, ready to pour. ]
Open up. You get the in-inaug-innagural-you get the first drink off this one. Go 'til you stop or die, whatever happens first.
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wait, feathers? like feather feathers? ]
Hang on, what do you mean feathers?
[ but then wolfwood frees the next bottle of its cap and his mind jerks, torn between the curious need to figure out what vash means by feathers and the destructive urge to consume even more whiskey ─ he can't be blamed for the latter, there's something comforting about the burn of whiskey going down his throat and how it settles nicely in his guts. and the whole reason he sought them out was for comfort, right? he had no idea they had planned on drinking the night away, but he did know he found some measure of comfort in their presence.
so he tears his gaze from vash to open his mouth again, the fingers around wolfwood's hip squeezing. ]
1/2
Honestly, it's a good idea. And in watching it, he almost misses dante's question.
He does a bit of a double-take as he lifts his head from where he has it hanging, tipping his head a bit left, then right. ]
Yyyyeah I mean, it's not a big deal. You said you were a demon and you looked all. Carapace-y when you showed up, right.
So I got to thinkin' like. It's kind'a cool that I got friends who are like that, too.
'cause if people knew I was what I was they'd get all weird about it normally but here, it's probably okay? Like. Iunno.
It's not like I can go all angel-mode here anyway, my powers haven't even started to come back, it's why I said you were lucky. Look. Nothin'.
2/2
[ ...however, not this time. No, as he sits here, next to dante and wolfwood, dozens of little feathers--white, waxy, almost fluffy-looking feathers start to burst out from his skin, out of his face, from his back, around his arms--
and vash just sits there, blinking in confusion as those soft, but somehow solid feathers curl and flow around his friends.
....huh.
....ah.
....Oh. ]
They came back.
...
Shit, I'm sorry.
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and then Vash is gonna bring up and do something weird, because he can't just do one or the other, so Wolfwood has to focus on that as another inconsistency--three days from now Wolfwood's problem--crops up, and he almost wants to laugh because Vash actually has the angel imagery this time around.
the laugh turns into a startled noise as feathers come bursting out of Vash the Stampede, white and waxen and encasing the three of them in their own private little bubble as Wolfwood's brain short circuits, the hand on Dante's next releasing the man long enough to reach out and brush his fingers over the feathers, disbelievingly. ]
Why are Plants so fucking weird, [ he hisses a little under his breath, and decides that he deserves the second pull off the whiskey bottle, helping himself to it as he tries to put together his internal Pepe Silva board of weird shit Plants Can Just Fucking Do. ]
So like. When do the vines happen?
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wait, no, they're not actual feathers.
whatever they are is enough for dante to finally take his hand off vash to mirror wolfwood's own hand, reaching up to brush his fingers over them. they soft, he notes, despite how they look and remind him of down feathers you'd see on a baby bird. ]
What are you apologizing for? [ another laugh pushes past his lips, the sort of laugh one makes when in awe of something amazing, something─ ] They're beautiful.
[ okay, maybe he is a little drunk. ]
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He looks up at wolfwood first. raising an eyebrow as the man mentions vines. He has no idea what that means, and slowbrain is just going to assume its something that Wolfwood's other "vash" could do. He just shakes his head as the man opts to call him weird, reaching out to touch some of the big feathers as they curled in, around. They twitch a little, when touched--almost leaning into it, protectively, curling around wolfwoods fingers ... like a vine.
And then his head almost spins when Dante speaks next. Scolding him for apologising is one thing, he's oddly used to that. But the next word, the
man called him beautiful?
he's not cold anymore as a reddish, ruddy hue starts to run up his neck, along his cheeks.
feathers branching and splitting like a hydra when Dante's fingers brush over a large feather, like a branch of a tree splitting off into more long, waxy feathers. ]
Eh...
[uh uhm
hes gonna reach for the whiskey bottle, and its time to laugh, kind of like the big idiot that he is. ]
I think that's the first time in my life someone's called me beautiful.
You can't take it back, that's mine now.
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he wants to go into detail about them, to lay the stress and terror of watching the great edifice of black and purple plant material back at Vash's feet because Wolfwood's still--still not sure what he's doing in the wake of all that, having done his job perfectly and then come back to regret it, saving his own skin and then unsaving it to come back for the girl, to see just how outclassed he was in the middle of Vash and Knives' violent dance.
Vash refuses to be mad at him about the betrayal. no matter how mean he is, no matter how much he pushes back against the blond's ideals, he's not giving Wolfwood anything to fight with that has any sort of substance, that holds him to any sort of standard or level of accountability, and sober Wolfwood nurses guilt like a wound and builds anger like a wall.
drunk Wolfwood, at least, sees the vines at the corner of his eyes, feels the way the feather splits off to coil around his fingers, and words get stuck on his tongue--about how Vash is beautiful, but in the biblical sense of something being beyond human kenning, terrible and beautiful and the cause for much weeping; but Wolfwood doesn't cry, at least. he's not a devil, after all. just a deeply dysfunctional human being*.
*humanity variable, may not qualify in certain circles.
Blondie's so happy in the wake of the compliment that Wolfwood just... doesn't find it in him to cut in, to cut down. he releases the bottle of whiskey easily when Vash has a good hold on it, leaning on Dante's shoulder and peering over it, sort of draped on his side of the man as he reaches out an empty hand to touch the bigger feathers again. ]
The texture on these is wild, Spikes.
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I'm mean, [ he pulls his gaze from the feathers to vash, the corners of his mouth curving upwards almost slyly. he can feel wolfwood leaning on his shoulder, his fingers idly squeezing the other man's hip as dante leans his head back a little. ] You're a good look guy, honest, would even go so far as to say you're fucking gorgeous. The feathers are a bonus, I like them.
[ it's cute how red he is, how the blush spreads from his cheeks down his neck, dante's fingers twitch slightly against the feathers as he contemplates tracing vash's blush with his fingers. he's not drunk enough to act on it, whatever sense left to him stopping his hand from abandoning the feathers. ]
no subject
His gaze flicks between Dante and Wolfwood as his feathers start to curl in again, against himself as that red colour on his face spreads more, turning nearly the colour of his coat. What the hell?? ]
--Well, I'm. Not sure if they're actual. Bird feathers, more than they're? Like. Plant. Leaves. The texture is kind'a odd, I know-- I don't know, I don't really have a clear picture on what... [ what he is.
but those words are stolen from his mouth as dante hits him with a second punch, the word gorgeous making his head ring as he covers his mouth with his one hand again. huh
what is happening
wolfwood and dante have just devolved into full-handedly petting the splitting, curling feathers and while the instinct is to pull them back in, he doesn't??? want to disappoint his friends?? and hes kind of paralyzed in place otherwise.
What if he just wraps the longer wing-like feathers from around his head and face around him so he can't be seen? press in closer against dante's side, hide out of sight. that's a solution. ]
C, come on!! Now you're just tryin' to get me going! [ he's getting flashbacks to the first day he and dante went for pizza, and how the man flirted with the waitress, and he's dying a little more. ] It's cheating using -- ladykiller tactics on a guy with no defenses!
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like a Plant's vines. Vash turns the color of his coat and Wolfwood is still very busy petting him, all but laying against Dante's chest, head on his shoulder as he listens to Vash try to words good and fail. ]
Can you fly with'em, though? Or are they like shitty tomas feathers that aren't even good for stuffing pillows with.
[ he blinks when the feathers move away, move in, and Vash gets particularly whiny about it--squinting as the man cries at Dante for being nice to him, and so Wolfwood decides to be the arbiter of punishment, reaching out to snag the bottle of whiskey because it's his turn to drink. probably? ]
Well maybe you should consider yourself lucky, Blondie. Uncle Scruffy's just trying to help you toughen up so you don't get done in by every smooth talker in the five mile radius. [ Wolfwood says, as if he didn't turn to mush everytime someone said something nice about him, the hood of Vash's sweater moving as his ears wiggle underneath it. for emphasis. ]
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It isn't cheating if it works, [ he'll abandon the feathers for now, if only to reach down to the one vash is trying to use to hide his face from them. ] Come on, angel, don't go hiding on us now.
[ his voice is just on the side of low, just on the side of sultry, as if he's trying to make vash fluster even more ─ as if he is trying to flirt with the guy. and maybe he is, maybe he is on the side of drunk to talk but take no action. because talking is easy, flirting is easy, and dante realizes he adores the way vash squirms.
don't think you're off the hook, wolfwood. he tilts his head to look at the dark-haired man, treating him with that same sly grin. ]
You need a bit of toughening up too, Wolfy. Can you honestly say you wouldn't crumble if I told you I thought you are breathtaking?
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if only everyone back on Noman's Land thought the same way dante did, maybe he wouldn't have half as many scars. But. Once again he's reminded, through the whiskey-dizzy mess that is his brain--that he's in a place far from home. the people here are unaffected by the horrors of that crash 150 years ago--and the coward in his heart wondered that
maybe it'd be okay to stay here. with wolfwood, with dante--if it was cowardly to want to stay in a place that was softer. where he could feel happy like this, after something so simple as a compliment about his appearance--about his more monster-like form he normally hid from the world. ]
A, angel! [ he almost squawks, the nickname making his head come up, thereby giving dante a perfect oppertunity to yank the small wing away from his face. He darts his head from side to side at his companions, trying to regain the two braincells in his head that bounce off each other now and again. ] I'm not hiding, I'm just! I said I was cold, right? Um. Flying, yeah. I can fly. I don't do it often, though so I'm really outta' practice on that front... [ people tend to treat you like a fucking weirdo when you fly around like a bird in a place where people don't generally fly.
he's absolutely being flirted with here--mostly by Dante, but he can SEE that look in Wolfwood's eye as he teases him about toughening him up--and oh, the demon just put in a perfect opportunity to rib the other. turn the situation around?? absolutely, he can do that, let's do that. ]
His sunglasses fell off, too. Normally he hides his eyes behind them, but it's probably because he's got really nice eyes, see.
He can't hide them, look. [ and just to make sure he doesn't activate wolfwood's defences, he's gonna sloop a feather down to snatch up aforementioned dropped sunglasses and sneak them away, out of sight. ]
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[ Wolfwood remains mercenary, out to help no one but himself--and it's a wise decision because both Vash and Dante turn on him and it is fuckin' rude. He watches the feathers go with a sort of... warm, lazy expression on his face, still couched on Dante's shoulder as if he plans to sleep there, though he's not ready to pass out just yet.
it always comes back to angels, doesn't it? but thankfully drunk Wolfwood is in no mental place to get hung up over the imagery of two men with one wing ripping their way through a city, catastrophic and bloody, contenting himself with thinking about angels instead.
be not afraid. it was hard to be afraid of Vash, especially if you didn't know what he was capable of--and if you did know what he was capable of, and knew who he was as a person, it was even harder to be afraid of him. the man was an idiot, and chose peace no matter how much it carved out of his ass, literally.
although he was apparently also an opportunistic little bitch. Wolfwood narrows his nice eyes at Dante, baring his teeth at the man in a feral little grimace. ]
Don't bring me into this! I'll show you breath-taking you mouthy-- [ and then he attempts the laziest strangulation anybody's ever seen, winding his arm around Dante's neck and kind of squeezing if you squinted? hell, a normal person would have a hard time being threatened by that--it was like Dante's over the shoulder bag had shifted up a bit too much more than a proper choke. ]
And you shut up! My eyes aren't nice! They're just eyes!
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he's glad he came here, he needed this. ]
Vash is right, you've got nice eyes. [ and dante has such a good view of them this close. the grip on wolfwood's hip tightens a little, fingers digging into the dip of his hip, as he leans in as much as the other man's stranglehold allows him. ] Could get lost in eyes like those, Wolfy. No wonder you keep them hidden all the time.
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he has the social grace of a worm in a glass of water, desperately trying to struggle to the surface but by the force of whatever divine being might exist, he's gonna do his best to get there.
Be Not Afraid of vash not because of his weirdly biblically accurate appearance, but because he knows how to weaponize words. He has 150 years of experience of getting out of situations by scrambling his jumpy ass around until he somehow got ahead of the situation. ]
He wears sunglasses usually, because of the light inside his heart bleeds out when they're not covered.
He wears them a lot more, here, I think, than he did back home, but. I think it's 'cause he's happy here.
It'll all just come out if he's not got his sunglasses on.
He's been a lot more light-hearted since he met you, too. Kind'a like me, Nico isn't used to having friends.
Unexpected as your visit today's been.
I'm glad you came.
And I'm sure Nico is, too.
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it's not hard to break his 'stranglehold' Wolfwood is holding on like the saddest crossbody purse in the world and his cat ears are folded like he's directing planes for landing, sputtering a little as he tries to lean away from Dante as the devil and the asshole rhododendron next to him make Wolfwood the victim of the nice words game
he does not know what to do when he is the victim of the nice words game; it hits him like a freight steamer and without his sunglasses it's just there, on his face, younger than he looks and definitely not used to kindness from most anywhere in his recent days. he turns it into his favorite emotion, the easiest one he knows: anger
but because he is very drunk he just sort of sounds like a whiny kitten when he tries to get the brass in his voice. ]
Both of you shut it! I don't--that theory about me is dumb, Blondie, and this was better when you were making him red as his coat!
[ he jabs a finger at Dante accusingly, giving his hips a little wiggle as he tries to break the absolute bearpaw of a hold Dante's got on him. ]
I've never been happy in my life, don't lie to people. Let me go, I'm going into the fire.
[ release him he belongs to the cinders and the flames ]
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