[ he doesn't know what to expect when he starts this. Resonating with plants was something that was a second nature to him--they all had a hivemind of a sort, just being close with them allowed them to feel, hear, and think with an energy they all shared--resonating with a human would be an impossibility as well; garrett isn't a plant, humans aren't plants, but.
As his fingers touch the very edges of garrett's ghostly hands, there's something that sings back to him. Something old; impossibly so, and it immediately makes Vash think of other Plants--but older, bigger; harder to understand, like the smallest minnow swimming in front of the world's biggest whale; in a moment he's faced with something that is daunting and yet
he isn't afraid
he isn't afraid, because it doesn't threaten to swallow him, but instead, it sings back. lines being drawn through his mind like the soft edge of a paintbrush, drawing emotions that are thoughts, memories that aren't whole. His chest aches as he runs through the song as it plays in his ears--the start of it a discordant, unhappy tune that laments the tale of a place as barren as his home desert and yet densely populated. there's no hope, and it makes his stomach feel empty.
the feeling doesn't last long as there's a crest to the song, a light in the dark, and this is the moment where the first tear runs down his cheek, springing forward and followed by another, and another as the emotions that fall out of that light are so kind they're wordless and gentle, like a mother's embrace; a thank you that's said without using any sort of communication to say the words and yet he knows. He knows, in this moment, that he'd been doing the right thing.
He blinks again, and he's almost pulled back to reality--having not realised that he'd closed his eyes to try to hang on to every note of that sad, baneful song that the creature had drawn behind his eyelids, and his fingers move, to tightly grip Garrett's hand.
Long, light feathers curl and circle the handshake of sorts, and his second hand--the mechanical one--comes to cup over the back of the thief's hand--as if to protect it, a warm smile moving over his face.
I'll take care of him. His thoughts are just his thoughts, he isn't a telepath, and the music is slowly fading--but he can at least make this promise, and hope that whatever is hiding behind Garrett's eye can hear him. I promise, so long as I am here, he will never be alone.
His fingers squeeze, and even if Garrett's hand feels brittle under his fingertips, he keeps his grip light as if to prove it's still there. ]
There you are. See? Everything's gonna' be alright, weird as this whole thing is.
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As his fingers touch the very edges of garrett's ghostly hands, there's something that sings back to him. Something old; impossibly so, and it immediately makes Vash think of other Plants--but older, bigger; harder to understand, like the smallest minnow swimming in front of the world's biggest whale; in a moment he's faced with something that is daunting and yet
he isn't afraid
he isn't afraid, because it doesn't threaten to swallow him, but instead, it sings back. lines being drawn through his mind like the soft edge of a paintbrush, drawing emotions that are thoughts, memories that aren't whole. His chest aches as he runs through the song as it plays in his ears--the start of it a discordant, unhappy tune that laments the tale of a place as barren as his home desert and yet densely populated. there's no hope, and it makes his stomach feel empty.
the feeling doesn't last long as there's a crest to the song, a light in the dark, and this is the moment where the first tear runs down his cheek, springing forward and followed by another, and another as the emotions that fall out of that light are so kind
they're wordless and gentle, like a mother's embrace; a thank you that's said without using any sort of communication to say the words and yet he knows. He knows, in this moment, that he'd been doing the right thing.
He blinks again, and he's almost pulled back to reality--having not realised that he'd closed his eyes to try to hang on to every note of that sad, baneful song that the creature had drawn behind his eyelids, and his fingers move, to tightly grip Garrett's hand.
Long, light feathers curl and circle the handshake of sorts, and his second hand--the mechanical one--comes to cup over the back of the thief's hand--as if to protect it, a warm smile moving over his face.
I'll take care of him. His thoughts are just his thoughts, he isn't a telepath, and the music is slowly fading--but he can at least make this promise, and hope that whatever is hiding behind Garrett's eye can hear him. I promise, so long as I am here, he will never be alone.
His fingers squeeze, and even if Garrett's hand feels brittle under his fingertips, he keeps his grip light as if to prove it's still there. ]
There you are.
See? Everything's gonna' be alright, weird as this whole thing is.