oleaeuropaea | [Ryslig] INBOX

[Ryslig] INBOX

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, NEEDLENOGGIN FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 018.07.154.55 * NEEDLENOGGIN has joined 018.07.154.55 <needlenoggin>hiiiii you've reached vash!. <needlenoggin>** i'm probably sleeping or eating right now so leave something for me and i'll get back to it!

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

[This message is sent the day after the event ends. After Pure Vanilla wakes up and has horrible memories of a dream like quality that he, nonetheless, feels is real. His hands, colored in crimson, digging into Vash. Settling around his throat.]

My friend, forgive me if this message is unwanted, but I have... memories, of the last week. I am unsure if they are real, they feel like a dream almost, but they cling in a manner that tells me they are not.

I fear I hurt you. Terribly so. I

May I speak with you? Someplace public, over coffee or tea. I would like to ascertain you are all right. If. Ah. If you would allow it.

Edited 2023-09-25 15:22 (UTC)

[Perhaps Pure Vanilla will think the worst, when Vash takes another day respond. Like Pure Vanilla, he has vivid snippets of what happened between them. The new scars on his body, namely those focused against his ribs, confirm the story his faulty memory tells.

But more than that, he recalls what led up to their meeting — of the lives he himself had taken. That, more than anything, has haunted him as he tries to recover.

Part of him doesn't want to respond. He wants to forget whatever happened during that week. But the idea of someone out there carrying the memory of those sins without some kind of explanation sits even less comfortably with him.

So eventually, a response comes through.]

you're not the only one that should be apologizing.
what you saw, the things i did...

right. in person.
doesn't have to be public, maybe i'd prefer it not be.
but after what you saw, i wouldn't blame you if you'd rather be somewhere safe.
with witnesses.
there's just... a lot i should tell you, after all of that.
things i'd rather not have other people hear.

but it's your choice.

[For a moment, the silence seems to confirm that Vash would rather avoid him. Then the message comes in, and it's enough to lift a tiny weight off him. It also touches his heart that Vash had the exact same idea as Pure Vanilla. A public place, in case the other felt uncomfortable being alone. It makes him smile, even if its a touch sad.]

Private then. I trust you, and I am glad you trust me, despite

[He lifts his finger from the speech to text button. Despite his fingers digging into the body beneath him. He feels ill.]

Do you know the Grapevine? It is my residence and my room is quite private. Sparkling Cookie will be asleep until night time, and will not bother us, and Clotted Cream Cookie has his room in the basement. It should only be us. If this is all right?

[Vash should be saying the same thing. People had died because of him. And he'd relished in it.

But if he focuses on the details, his mind won't go out of control with doubt, with fear of judgement from someone he just barely knew.] ]

i've visited, yeah.
is there a second entrance?
don't want to go knocking on the main door and waking everyone if it's all locked up.

either way.
i'll be there.

... thank you.
for trusting me.

There's the back entrance. I will be waiting for you.

And no, my friend, please. You never harmed me. I will meet you when you arrive.

[Text can't catch the hitch in Pure Vanillas voice.

And true to his word, when Vash shows up, Pure Vanilla will be sitting outside the back entrance. He's wearing a thick sweater to stave off some of the chill of the September morning, and his fingers are nervously plucking at the fibers.

He looks different, as well. His hair is paler, no longer burnt at the ends, and the faint clinging scent of burnt vanilla has faded to a softer scent. Just normal vanilla, woven in with him. His ears flick back and forth, swiveling to pick up the sound of the others approach.]

[Like his companion, Vash comes dressed for comfort. Granted, that comfortable attire isn't all that different than his day-to-day wear. Whether Pure Vanilla remembers or not, the rustle of Vash's clothes sounds far more muffled. He's more padded up, as if protecting himself from something. The tight thermal at least has been switched with a sweater of thicker yarn, though it still pulls up to beneath his chin. His jacket, bright red and familiar, is zipped tight and pulled around him. This very jacket had been missing during their last encounter, its weighty thud not joining the mess of fabric that Vash had discarded before their session.

Which, speaking of thuds, Vash lands not far from the back entrance. With the weather clearing up, and his confidence in his ability to fly with just three wings increasing, he's able to make the journey quickly. Still, he doesn't want to plop right down at the entrance. The sounds of his boots approaching will announce him to anyone trying to hear.

Which would mean Pure Vanilla.

He really only does remember snippets of what happened to him. In there, he remembers carefully guiding Pure Vanilla along. He'd never outright said that he was blind in that moment, but from the pieces he's gathered, Vash goes with the assumption. Thus, he clears his throat gingerly as he approaches, though his hand still lifts in a wave on instinct.]

You're - [He falters here. The man he had met before had insisted on Vanilla. Yet the online moniker his companion had chosen would have indicated otherwise. He errs on the side of caution after a second of hesitation, opting to go with the name that had been spelled out for him.] Pure Vanilla, right?

[He tries to inject his usual cheer into his speech. However, the tone winds up falling flat, even coming dangerously close to morose.]

[He doesn't get to his feet until the voice reaches his ears, unsure if the person approaching was Vash or not. There's relief on his face, half that he showed up and half that he sounds fine (if a little uncertain). It sounds like the other is bundled, even more so than before, and understands it.

His own robes have returned to normal, but he doesn't know that. He's stashed them in the back of his closet, loathe to touch them.]

Yes... Pure Vanilla Cookie. You're... Vash, correct?

[A name in the memory. Spilling from his own lips as he cajoles the other into screaming. He exhales, hard, and his expression tightens a little. There's a lot he wants to say, but Vash requested privacy. He turns a little to open the back door.]

Please, come inside.

[He begins to hold out his hand, the gesture familiar from their last encounter, muscle memory. Then falters mid-way, letting it drop, unsure if he should, before stepping aside to let Vash into the door.]

[That hand stretches out, and Vash reaches for it. Maybe it's a mercy, that Pure vanilla can't see it. Or maybe the sound of his jacket quickly ruffling, then settling back down into place, is evidence enough of what he'd tried to do. He feels guilty for even trying. He knows what his own hands are capable of, after all.

(Some part of his brain reasons that Pure Vanilla, too, is capable of this. But that part is sounded out by the screaming self-loathing that encompasses most of his mind.)

As it stands, Vash waits until they're thoroughly indoors before breathing a sigh of relief. There's something about being in the public eye right now that makes him uncomfortable. He doesn't want to be recognized for what he did, even if he looks so different than he had over the course of that week.

There were so many new faces. And now he'll be — even if only partially — remembered by those deaths. Pure Vanilla is no exception, despite the brief conversation they'd had over the network previously. But at least now he had a chance to rectify that.]

Thank you... for letting me come here. If you're uncomfortable at any point, please tell me. I know what you saw me do was... pretty terrible. But I promise I'm not like that.

[He can get into the details later, but this must be said first.]

[The way Vash's clothes shuffled before, when he extended his hand, has him silent for a moment, as he closes the door behind them. The words from the other wash over him like they're incomprehensible. And maybe, to Pure Vanilla, they are. Because he simply can't imagine Vash apologizing to him.]

Oh... my friend, no.

[Impulsively he reaches out again, his hand blinding seeking Vash's until he can find one to take hold of. He gives it a tight squeeze, then uses it to lead the other up the back stairways to the second floor.]

You do not need to apologize, though I know your heart will not let it rest until you have.

[Because they're the same, and Pure Vanillas heart aches in the need to beg for forgiveness.]

These events that this world puts us through warps us to our very core. And sometimes there is simply no manner in which to fight it.

[The walk down the second floor hallway is quick, before he stops in front of a door. Twisting the handle, he pushes it open, then quickly sticks his leg in the way to prevent a small cakepup from barging out. The tiny thing barges into his leg, grabs a mouthful of wool to yank it vigorously back and forth, then turn and run off, giving Pure Vanilla room to open the door the rest of the way and usher Vash in.

The apartment is rather sparsely furnished, due to Pure Vanilla not needing a lot of things due to his sight, but what he does have looks comfortable and obviously made for relaxing. A couch with thick cushions, an equally squishy looking chair which the cakepup is currently standing in, a toy clamped in his tiny mouth, his eyes fixed on Vash as his tail wags away. A record slash radio player, a desk scattered with books and papers. But mostly? Plants. Herbs of various types. Most of them are medicinal, or used for teas. The only few that stand out are orchids with a center that looks suspiciously like a closed eye, and a ... well. Tubers that look like mandragoras if mandragoras could look entirely too pleased about being fat and healthy in their pots.]

Please... sit. Make yourself comfortable. We can talk at length once you have made yourself at home. Would you like something to drink? Please excuse Lavender, he loves people.

[Vash regrets offering his hand the moment those fingers close around his own. Whenever he closes his eyes, he can still recall the dim picture of the children he had slain. Once, he had sworn that he would never tarnish his hands again. Now they were bloodier than ever. Accepting any sort of gesture, let alone one like this, feels inappropriate — no one deserves it less than he.

Yet he twines their fingers together nonetheless, his long, bony digits fitting between the other monster's. He holds tight as he feels he can as they make their way up the stairs. He doesn't dare argue the words that Pure Vanilla offers, doesn't feel that he can until he's had proper time to explain everything.. Only then will he accept whatever judgement Pure Vanilla offers, if he chooses to offer any at all.

At least there are a few things that fail to surprise Vash as he enters Pure Vanilla's apartment. The Cakepup is at least something of a familiar sight — he'd met Cheesecake and Fuji when he'd last visited the Grapevine. The plants that are growing there are all largely unfamiliar. He makes a note to look closer, if he had the chance.

Luida would love them.

For now, he finally allows himself to let go of that hand, in favor of pulling his boots off at the door. He isn't sure if that's a rule Pure Vanilla would prefer, or if he's making himself far too at home, but he'd rather err on the side of caution. Once he's got his boots pushed against the wall, he makes his way over to the couch and settles down. After a moment of thought, he pulls his kneels up to his chest and hooks his chin over them.]

Is tea alright? Or coffee. Whichever you prefer.

[In the meanwhile, he holds a hand out for Lavender to... sniff? Is that a thing a cakepup does? He's still getting used to this.]

[It's easy to track the other as he takes his shoes off - which earns him a smile - and sits. The couch.]

Tea it is. Please, give me a moment.

[Something... soothing, he thinks. Chamomile and lavender. He moves into the small adjoining kitchen to begin doing just that. Lavender, the cakepup, meanwhile, decides instead of sniffing Vash's fingers - after flopping off the chair and scrambling up onto the couch to investigate the new person - to ram his head right into them. The headbutt is vicious but it doesn't seem to do any damage to his icing.

Then he drops the toy and begins to frantically try to lick the fingers, going into a full body wiggle wag, before flopping onto his side and rolling onto his back. Scratches. He demands it. Look how cute he is? He will whine if you do not.

At least Pure Vanilla won't leave Vash subjected to the whims of the puppy for long, the scent of chamomile and lavender growing strong while Lavender entertains their guest, and soon Pure Vanilla returns with a tray with two cups and a tea kettle. He sets it on the coffee table, before reaching out to pick the pup up so he can sit down in his place. Puppy in lap, he pours them tea, gesturing to the additions.]

Milk. Sugar. Salt, if you've got a mineral craving. [Like Pure Vanilla does. Ah, to be a sheep.] And the small bottle is... ah, gin. In case you'd like something stronger.

[His voice is wry because he understands what they're about to discuss is going to be rough.]

[Vash winces out of sympathy as the little creature slams full force against him. It wrenches out a laugh at least, soft and only with the slightest of hitches. He kneels off the couch once the creature goes belly up, focusing on administering only the choicest of belly rubs and scritches.

By the time Pure vanilla returns, Vash will be fully on the ground, absolutely enamored by the little thing. Sugar and animals make everyone feel better, and it would seem that the Cakepup has managed both in spades.

He does sober as his companion scoops up the little pup, knowing that it's only a matter of time before things take a turn. It's nice to have been able to enjoy a moment of reprieve. He just wishes that Pure Vanilla could have enjoyed it too, rather than trying to put Vash at ease.]

Thanks. [He gives a nod, then takes the tea. He doesn't put anything in it right away — with how unfamiliar most of the flora in Ryslig are, he's perfectly content to drink things straight and savor them.

Perhaps he remains in savor mode a little too long. He leaves the cup near his mouth, breathing in the vapor that pours off of it. His eyes close. He knows he should open his mouth at some point, say something about what they're here for. He can't put it off forever.

Instead he leans forward and takes the small bottle. He pours a generous helping in, though still leaves plenty for Pure Vanilla to enjoy should he need. It's only then that he allows his gaze to settle on the other man.]

Honestly, I'm not sure where to start now that we're here.

[Oh, don't worry. Being held wont stop the pup for long. The moment there's a lapse in Pure Vanilla's hold on him, he promptly darts over to Vash again. Shoves himself onto his lap. Tries to stick his head into his tea cup. Syrupy tongue going a mile a minute. And he does it as quietly as he can so Pure Vanilla can't scold him.

Which doesn't work as Pure Vanilla makes a noise and Lavender flops dramatically against the Faerie. Fine. He will lay here and grow mold!!

The clink of the bottle makes him huff the softest laugh. Yeah. He figured. For himself, he doesn't yet, instead picking up a few salt cubes to dissolve into his tea.

And the statement makes his brow furrow.]

I... [Hm. He cradles his cup with his hands.] I know you will disagree you deserve it, because I feel the same way and I believe we are two similar hearts about certain topics, but I must apologize. I only vaguely recall what I did to you, but I recall enough to know I hurt you terribly. That... that is not me. I love, yes, but to harm someone...!

[His fingers tighten, the cup creaking a little dangerously under them.]

I cannot even hunt to feed myself...

[He sounds close to tears. Lavender whines and scoots over to lick at his elbow, getting a hand down to pet him.]

[The little pup is a pleasant distraction, but it can't keep Vash from the subject at hand forever. He's grateful when Pure vanilla opts to break the silence — at least Vash doesn't have to be the one to ruin the moment. He listens quietly as Pure Vanilla speaks and -

nearly chokes into his tea.]

You can't hunt?

[Through the haze of his memories, he recalls feeling a kinship between "himself" and "Vanilla." They'd shared a burden of duty, as they called it. But for all the differences in that world, Vash would have expected that there were no similarities to speak of in this one. He and Pure Vanilla were just as likely to be night and day to one another.

And yet...]

When I first changed, I did everything I could to resist. I fed piecemeal from humans, thinking it would sustain me. And for awhile it felt like it was working.

Until it wasn't.

[The concept of frenzying doesn't need to be explained. Vash lets the silence speak for itself as he takes another sip of his tea.]

Before here, I had promised I would never take another life. And for a long time — a real long time — I kept to it. Until here. Until that day.

[The question makes him shake his head, reiterating his words silently. He listens as Vash describes his own experience with hunting and the hunger. And they're alike there, as well. Feeding bit by bit. Luckily for Pure Vanilla his needs are meat, and though he only takes from the food banks what he needs to quiet the rising frenzy, he never takes more than that.]

This place...

[He sighs, lowering his cup to reach out, fingers gliding along the tray until he finds the small liquor bottle. The amount of gin he adds is only a small bit - he's horrible with holding his alcohol - before he puts it aside, sips his drink. Lets the steam from the tea bath his face.]

I am a healer... From love brings growth, renewal. I shield those around me. I vowed to make lives better for everyone, to ease their pains... Not cause them.

[Lavender looks between the two, sensing the solemn mood, and gets up to fetch his toy. It squeaks ridiculously as he jumps back up, to deposit it on top of Vash's foot, then lay his head on top of it. Comfort.]

I eat from the food bank. When the urge to hunt becomes overwhelming, I seek out a farm at the end of the city and... and headbutt the farmer into the ditch. Then free his sheep, and run off.

[He sounds ashamed a little, his cheeks red. He's never told anyone that.]

I have only killed once, before this event. The Fog Gods followers were free from their town, and like ghosts, were passing through us. They caused many of us to frenzy. But even then... the death was quick.

[Claws to the throat, opening the jugular. Not the faint memory of screaming and begging, while mushrooms grew around them.]

This world is built on misery, and forces us to be our worst selves... and I'm sorry. I'm sorry you're caught up in it, that you walked a similar path as I, and were forced to break your vow. I understand how it feels, and I wish I could take it back for you, my friend.

It's not that altruistic. Not for me.

[He glances up at Pure Vanilla from beneath his lashes. There's a radiance about the man, even in this monstrous form. Vash had thought to compare the two of them, but he can see that he's far beneath the man before him. His hands were clean in his previous life, and remained nearly so in this world.

Unlike Vash. He'd maimed and murdered several times over, even outside of the influence of the strange events in this world. By his hands, nearly an entire civilization had crumbled. There was a reason why he was called the Humanoid Typhoon — it only made sense that the title followed him.

He'd thought to compare the two of them, once. He'd felt as if he could confide in this soul. But now, in the face of how Good Pure Vanilla is, Vash can't help but wonder if he'll be condemned.

His hand shakes just slightly. The teacup rattles against the half-metal of his palm. A glance is cast down toward the cakepup, a half-hearted smile offered, before he glances back toward Pure Vanilla.]

When I was younger, I caused... something terrible to happen. Tens of thousands of people lost their lives. And countless more were condemned to lives of suffering. I just... wanted to be better than I was then.

[The moment he hears the jitter of the teacup against metal, he sets his own down to reach out. Gently, carefully, he takes the metal hand in his. Holds it with both to steady it, offer Vash reassurance.

And he's quiet as he listens to Vash explain something horrible happened because of him, his expression non-judgemental. Just sad.]

But you already are. The moment you looked upon what had happened, and said "I want to be better". And then you kept to it, did you not? You said you vowed to never take another life again. You may not see it, it is truly hardest to look at ourselves and see the good around what we believe to be flaws, but I feel you have lived up to it.

[He won't ask if Vash caused it deliberately, accidentally, or simply by existing. He refuses to judge someone. Instead he offers Vash a smile, an actual true smile, untainted with the twisted love of before.]

I do not know your entire story, I will not judge what this place made you do, but if your love was so complete that in this worlds way, taking them out of it to spare them misery was the only thing it made you do... Then I think you are a better person. More than you think.

[He didn't dig his fingers into someone, peel them open like grotesque candy wrappers, all while decrying that their pain was right and just if they wanted peace.]

[Vash almost draws back as he sees Pure Vanilla leaning forward. He can accept some amount of kindness and mercy. He was a fool to think that the man would condemn him, when it's clear he's so much better than that. He's unfairly good in ways Vash could never be. Pure as he is, he doesn't deserve to debase himself by touching the marred bone and metal of Vash's arm.

The only reason Vash remains still at all is simply not wanting to upset the man any further.]

Is it really that easy? [The question is more rhetorical than anything. He poses it into the empty air, then breathes out a sigh.] I still have to kill now. I can't... feed like other people. I can't even - [He does manage a small laugh here. He's not judging Pure Vanilla at all. He thinks it's admirable, if a bit silly, that he's found a way around his needs.] Headbutt someone and call it good.

[He sobers at the mention of that other self. Sure, he can see some line of logic there. But he was far more inclined to agree with those that had railed against his efforts. It was... cruel. An easy way out, rather than fighting to help anyone.

He shakes his head.]

I don't know what that - other me was thinking. [Which, speaking of...] You're not what I was expecting, y'know? Kinda thought there'd be someone a little more... imposing.

Not someone - [The words catch in his throat for a brief moment.] - just a little bit like me.

["But so much better," he barely resists adding.]

[Silence as Pure Vanilla listens, his heart aching for the other. Unfortunately, Vash is right. There's no availing himself of the food bank, not with energy. Does he have a secondary mouth? That may help... he will ask about it later, suggest it. For now, he simply holds the metal and bone hand tight, attempting to help anchor Vash in some way.

The 'not what I expected' makes Pure Vanillas eyebrows raise a little, and he sighs softly.]

I am not surprised, I believe my alternate self was...

[He shakes his head, not finishing the thought. Forward. Vicious. Commanding. Everything Dark Enchantress is. He doesn't want to think of who that was. It's not him. Instead he focuses on Vash, his eyes finally opening in reflex, gold and blue staring uncannily at Vash, but also seeming to look through him, beyond him. As if he could still see to the heart of someone, to see the truth of them.]

It is never easy, and continuing on the path will be a struggle. But you have people around you to help — hands to hold, shoulders to lean on — when the path gets rocky. Do not be afraid if you stumble. It's not a failure, nor a setback. And there's no need to run, for it's not a race. And my friend - Vash. Forgive yourself. Please.

[There are a number of things that Vash and his alternate self have in common. One of those things is the countless decades spent without positive contact. Even through the limited sensation provided by the sensors in the bulk of his arm, he’s almost overwhelmed — never mind how hypersensitive the bone itself is.

He squeezes, though the effort is careful for his own sake. And though he knows that Pure Vanilla can’t actually see him, he meets that gaze. ]

I wish it was that easy. [He shakes his head, setting his tea aside with the opposite hand. Once it’s free, he lets himself dare to cup Pure Vanilla’s with both of his own. He wants to feel someone with his real flesh, under the power of his own mind.

Call him selfish.]

You don’t need me to tell you that it’s hard, I’m sure. But I’m trying, I guess.

[Is he? He can at least tell himself as much, right?]

[The squeeze and then the other hand joining in makes Pure Vanillas expression soften. He won't deny the other the comfort of touch. He spent time in a void, deprived of his senses for so many years... he knows what it feels like to yearn for anothers touch. So he shifts to wind his fingers in with Vash's, takes a tighter hold.]

You are, and that's all I can ask of you for now. And I'm proud of you for trying. Because indeed, I know how hard it is to forgive yourself when you feel you've failed... everyone.

[His kingdom in ruins, his citizens dead or fled. He wasn't there when they needed him the most. He failed them. He failed her. He failed-

He swallows and shakes his head, squeezing hands together lightly.]

But I promise you, the people around you will help you lift the weight a bit. Seek them when you need reassurance, when you need a reminder you're doing well. Don't hesitate to lean on them. On us.

[He knows he's a hypocrite.]

Like I said... [He smiles, just slightly. That faint uptick is just barely present in the sound of his voice, but it is there.] We have a lot in common.

[He'd never want someone to walk the same path he had. He'd never want anyone to know the same suffering. But finding someone that wasn't unlike him has been a relief. Yes, he still thinks Pure Vanilla is miles better than him, but...

He knew what it was like to fail.]

And you know, the same is true for you. That you have people there for you. [He wouldn't live with Sparkling if they weren't close. Vash barely thought he knew the other cookie, but still he had been there when the faerie had needed him.] We haven't known each other long, and I'm... pretty bad at keeping people at an arm's length but. I'm here.

[It's the least he can do. And hell, maybe he just wants to have some inkling of companionship.]

And, uh... Thank you, for everything.

[A lot in common, and once again Pure Vanilla is pulled back in thought to the ideal that this world calls to like beings. Similar worlds, similar hearts.

Vash offering the same to Pure Vanilla makes the Minotaurs smile blossom more. Something that seems like it's more familiar on his face than all his softer half smiles and unsure ones. Like the man is more at home beaming and laughing.

Maybe that tiny bit of gin is finally soaking into the lightweight, and relaxing him, as well.]

There is no need to thank me, but if you insist, then please accept my thanks as well. I promise, should I have a need, I shall call on you. And I agree. When I say my friend, I truly mean it. I'm afraid there is no shaking me once I have decided.

[Maybe he's decided they should no longer dwell on the past. It will haunt them, forever. He knows this, and he can speak of forgiving themselves all he wants, but late at night, when it's just them in their beds and they're trying to sleep. He knows the nightmares will come.

So he's going to focus on the here, the now, on making this moment as friendly and pleasant as possible. He squeezes Vash's hands, and aims the smile like a sunbeam at him. Steer the conversation away from pain.]

And since I have deemed you my friend, please tell me more about yourself!

[Are the tips of his ears burning? Maybe. People have stuck to Vash despite his best efforts, but no one has ever so boldly announced that they're his friend. He can't even summon an argument against it. Unfortunately for him, Pure Vanilla has seen Vash at his worst — nothing else he could offer up would compare.

And yet he's still wanted? What is he meant to do with that.]

Friends, then.

[Has he ever used that word? It's been a long time, if he has. It doesn't feel so bad, though. The usual dread that comes from getting close to someone doesn't well up within his chest like it usually does. Maybe it's the alcohol? For all his years, he might have thought himself a little sturdier than all of that, but he won't complain.]

I - don't really know what there is to tell! I'm not all that interesting, honest! [He laughs, every bit as awkward as he feels. Which means it's a terrible time to realize he's still clutching at Pure Vanilla's hands.

He lets one drop, but doesn't let the other go just yet. He'll give his friend the choice to do so.]

I like donuts and pizza a lot. I'm pretty good with a gun, but I've never used to it kill anyone. Wait is that too morbid? Maybe, sorry -

[Vash not being interesting makes Pure Vanilla hm! in disbelief. But it's a good-natured sound, and is accompanied with a small little tail wiggle. Feeling his hand be dropped, he's about to pull them both back when he realizes Vash is still holding onto the other. And since he's quite comfortable with the contact, he doesn't see any need to remove it. So he just makes his hand more comfortable, fingers folding in with Vash's.]

That isn't morbid in the least! A good friend of mine was quite skilled with a gun himself, as though my world is mostly peaceful, we still have to fight off monsters, so it's quite handy to know how to use weapons!

[Reaching out with his free hand, he finds his tea cup to bring it back up to his lips, angling himself as he does to be a little more body facing Vash. He ends up kneeing Lavender, causing the cakepup to awaken with a start and give them both the most scrunked look a cakepup can give. He hops down and waddles off to find someplace else to rest. Rude.]

Oh, your food is similar to this worlds! Unless your pizza happens to be sweet pizza? Tell me of your world, if you are all right speaking of it?

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 3

[Ryslig] INBOX

<purevanilla>

<needlenoggin>

<purevanilla>

no subject

<purevanilla> - action

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject