[ Vash is babbling a mile a minute, but Wolfwood's only barely listening to him. No, what he's focused on instead is what the rest of the idiot is doing -- what his body is saying, instead of his mouth. He's in pain -- not bad, but present -- and there's no mistaking that scent that's getting stronger every time Vash winces.
The man glows. He's a human battery, impossibly old, capable of feats of strength and speed that even the Eye's prize monster can barely keep up with. So maybe he lays eggs too? Who's Wolfwood to say otherwise?
(Does this mean that Millions Knives lays eggs? Oh he's gonna drink until he wipes that thought out of his head, after this is over!) ]
Fuck.
[ Wolfwood runs a hand through his hair, still unable to believe what he's... what he's about to believe. His life's been so damn strange since he joined this band of lunatics! ]
Fuck, alright! Alright.
[ A broody tomas will kick the memories right out of your head if you get too close... but Wolfwood hasn't been afraid of those big dumb birds since he was a kid, and he's never going to be afraid of this sad soggy bastard here. Muttering under his breath -- he did not sign up for this, this is not in his job description, the bill for his services is going to be so goddamn high -- Wolfwood shoves his jacket sleeves up to his elbows and starts rolling his shirt cuffs up too. If it's eggs, there's going to be mess, and there's now a little flush high on each cheek as he tries hard not to think about what that sweet scent indicates about the source of that mess, and what's about to happen here.
Eggs. The man lays eggs. ]
So what do you need, a nest? How're we doin' this? Gimme something to work with here.
[ Yeah, he said 'we'. Don't make a big deal out of it. ]
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Date: 2024-11-04 04:44 pm (UTC)The man glows. He's a human battery, impossibly old, capable of feats of strength and speed that even the Eye's prize monster can barely keep up with. So maybe he lays eggs too? Who's Wolfwood to say otherwise?
(Does this mean that Millions Knives lays eggs? Oh he's gonna drink until he wipes that thought out of his head, after this is over!) ]
Fuck.
[ Wolfwood runs a hand through his hair, still unable to believe what he's... what he's about to believe. His life's been so damn strange since he joined this band of lunatics! ]
Fuck, alright! Alright.
[ A broody tomas will kick the memories right out of your head if you get too close... but Wolfwood hasn't been afraid of those big dumb birds since he was a kid, and he's never going to be afraid of this sad soggy bastard here. Muttering under his breath -- he did not sign up for this, this is not in his job description, the bill for his services is going to be so goddamn high -- Wolfwood shoves his jacket sleeves up to his elbows and starts rolling his shirt cuffs up too. If it's eggs, there's going to be mess, and there's now a little flush high on each cheek as he tries hard not to think about what that sweet scent indicates about the source of that mess, and what's about to happen here.
Eggs. The man lays eggs. ]
So what do you need, a nest? How're we doin' this? Gimme something to work with here.
[ Yeah, he said 'we'. Don't make a big deal out of it. ]