I Will Be The Last

#livio the double fang #look #they got time to get him 'right'#im patient XDD #;;queue

He’s just a sapling

#;;big boy’s headcanons #;;queue #rennyrose #im crying this was so funny

i read trimax because i got rlly curious from your art and the entire time i was like wheres the guy. wheres livio and then he showed up and i was clapping and cheering and also immediately took emotional damage 👍thank you i don't think ill ever be the same again trimax changed me as a person

Good things come to those who drive on

#;;big boy’s headcanons #;;queue #rennyrose

Some Liv expressions-

I like to imagine that it actually takes quite a lot to get him to yell/explode in anger- very much a disappointed dad vibe or extremely grumpy when he's pissed

Wolfwood doesn't do more than watch and listen as Livio speaks about his story—particularly about his Vash. Black hair? The tired eyes and age make sense, kind of, but Blondie isn't Blondie without the blond. Weird.

But yes, he and his Vash are essentially on their own in this reality. The only thing he can think of is whatever that doctor on Ship-03 did must've had some kind of effect on him... well, it's that or the independent is genuinely fatigued from...

—anyway.

"Guess for now we just wait for him to wake up before making any judgement calls," Wolfwood shrugs, rapping his fingers on the surface of the table, "Why don't you go get us some grub for lunch? S'what I sent Needle-noggin out to do before all this happened. I was about to go check on him, actually."

He stands up, then hovers over to where Vash is lying down. Nonplussed, Wolfwood gives the man a couple of light slaps to his cheek—not too hard, more like gentle patting.

"Oi, gonna take back the money I gave you," he gives Vash the fair warning, even if he's still unconscious, then slips a hand into one of his jacket pockets to scrounge for the twenty double-dollars he lent him. If he takes a few more so that Livio can get something to eat... no one needs to know.

Successful, Wolfwood steps back to where Livio is sitting and hands him about thirty double-dollars.

"I'm gonna go smoke. Get whatever you're hungry for; they like their food spicy around here, so watch out if you're sensitive to that stuff."

(... Because he is definitely sensitive to 'that stuff,' not that his brother needs to know that...)

#familiar stranger;;forgivenpunishment #l/r (ic)#the young star;;orangetintedglasses #(aaand hand off to Vet's blog )#( lets gooo)

| L/R |

Why does it feel like all they can do is wait? Whatever happened, whoever did it could be watching them, and Livio's still convinced it was Knives. A Knives, if there's a possibility it was more than one... And he was about to voice that sentiment when Wolfwood spoke next.

Something for him to do, even if it only helped in mundane ways, was better than nothing. He watched the interaction with Vash's unconscious form, another squeeze at his insides, watching him. It's not too late in this world to make sure he survives. He wanted to make sure that happened. Even if its not supposed to.

In his eagerness to do the task, he launched upright from the chair hard enough that the legs scraped the floor a bit. Jaw clenched in an 'oops' expression, he gently set the chair on its feet and sighed. At least it didn't break.

"I can do that," he nodded, concentration making him look so serious it might have been a little funny. "I-I don't eat spicy stuff, mostly. I want to be able to taste what I'm eating, not burn my tongue out of my mouth..."

But he understood the point the other danced around, it made sense and he tried not to grin too big as he gave him a thumbs up. "I'll just knock when I come back, yeah? Won't just barge in, cause that seems unwise."

Livio picked up his hat where he'd let it fall earlier, and slipped out the door without another word, and only one last glance at where Vash lay. The errand gave him time to think, wrangle his emotions better, and allowed the same for Wolfwood.

As he exited the inn, he looked at the money he was given and had to chuckle. Some things done change, at least, between worlds. That was good, he had some money on him, too. Maybe he could bring back a little more than just food to help out.

#;;sinday #this seemed appropriate for sinday #rennyrose #;;queue

Once again, it is Shitpost Sunday

"You don't know the half of it. It was one hell of a test," Wolfwood scoffs to the side, as if this man in front of him is not, in fact, his brother. In a way, he isn't; this is not the crybaby that he had grown up with. But he is a Livio, so he's... more of an estranged brother? Not that Wolfwood can even fathom what that's like. Even an opportunity to live in a non-nuclear family was taken away from him before he had any say in it... all based on some fancy bloodwork and phony standardized tests.

The undertaker can only scratch the back of his head at Livio's line of questioning. It seems more bashful than vexed, like there is an answer, but he sure as hell doesn't like it.

"Eh? Shortstack? I haven't seen her in months. Almost a year. No clue who you mean by 'big girl' though. Shortie is... short." Petite, he can hear her saying. Blegh.

"There is... one place we could take him, but..." Wolfwood hesitates, as if speaking about the place is an open wound—and it kind of is. "We didn't leave on good terms. Well, Vash did. I wasn't so lucky, unfortunately, heh."

Finally, he removes his sunglasses and sets them on the table, revealing his startlingly white eyes—pearl on pearl, only the vague outline of irises hinting at anything surrounding his currently pen-tip sized pupils. If it were a simple lack of color, his eyes would be more gray or blue... but no, he had to get fucked up by another group of malicious doctors.

Wolfwood makes eye contact—is this the first time that he's done it without glaring?

"I don't think you're lying. If you were, you'd be able to get a sentence out without blubbering through it," he smiles, but it's hollow, "Still, I can't trust you enough to take you on a meet-n-greet with everyone we know. Not that we can really access any of 'em."

Getting antsy, Wolfwood leans over to check on Vash from a short distance, "How did you meet Blondie, anyway?"

He pauses, then rolls his eyes, "This Blondie."

#familiar stranger;;forgivenpunishment #l/r (ic)#the young star;;orangetintedglasses #(these poor boys oh my)#(we should probably do some plotting for where to take this next?)

| L/R |

So Meryl wasn't glued to them like she had been, the way Vash had always mentioned them... And the other one, the tall girl he couldn't remember her name--She wasn't here at all? This were very different indeed, then. That left them with very little help, and Livio didn't like that at all.

The hesitation was noted silently by the big guy. He can tell its a topic with open wounds, just by his words and reactions. Then he saw the eyes and cold dread spread across his Livio's skin. That gaze was eerie, unsettling, even set in a somewhat familiar face. That it was the first time he wasn't pointedly glaring eased some of the surprise, but...

"That's not really the point--" he said in response to trying to find someone to help, because it was true. As long as Wolfwood was able to, with or without him, he hoped he'd still try. "You don't have to--to take me with you wherever it may be, I'm just..."

Breathe. Don't fight about it. "I only hoped there were options you could go to, anyone that would know what's happened to him, why, if there's something that would help but..."

Livio ran a hand over his short hair, a sign of defeat and frustration. "Clearly we're both shit out of luck and don't know what we're doing. I don't know how I ended up here, I was traveling in the desert before I walked into this town and met him, but I didn't know I'd stumbled into another world..."

A short silence passed, and then, "I ran into this Vash a couple of days ago. I-I thought he was the Vash I knew, except once I was up close to him, he was..."

The big guy made a gesture with his hand to suggest a shorter height. "The Vash I know is taller, looks... older, somehow. You can see it in his eyes, sort of heavy and tired."

Sadness crept over his expression, then. "Like he'd seen too much, felt too much, and was still soldierin' on because he had no choice. And the thing with the b-black hair, b-but I don't think... Well, his hair's mostly black, the last I'd seen him.. Anyway."

He nodded to the bed, a worried glance at the blond who lay there. "It was like this one was just, more alive, younger, different. Different coat, kinda different hair. He explained I must've been looking for a-a different Vash and the conversation was just as confusion to me then as all this has been now. Didn't expect to run into him again so soon, just... I wasn't gonna leave him just lying there. I'll f-figure out how to get back to 'my world' i-if that what it is, after all this..."

'Been a while since someone's called me crybaby.'

'The Vash I fought beside against Knives and Legato.'

A few things are adding up for Wolfwood and he's not enjoying what the sum of them all is. It seems they're both mourning, because he's sure as hell that there isn't a single 'other world' out there where he'd leave Vash's side. Maybe it's an unspoken 'and you,' but it's more likely that he's...

"... Stop lookin' at me like that," he sighs again, re-holstering his weapon, "Blondie never told me about any of this shit, but there's a lot of stuff I don't know about that he'd probably try to hide from me anyway. You look and act like Livio, but not my Livio, so I guess the story adds up."

Wolfwood shrugs, then pulls out the two chairs from under the room's table. Both of them are a bit too large to sit normally at it, so instead, the undertaker just leans back in the chair with his legs outstretched.

"You sure say some weird shit though," he hums thoughtfully, letting his gaze wander over to Vash to make sure he's okay. Then Wolfwood recounts that final moment of hope when he'd finally broken through to his brother before he...

"Right... so..." he clears his throat, searching for the right place to start with the events on the sand steamer, "They sent you—Livio—after me while we were riding a steamer to JuLai. We fought, he made me dose up a few times, then Needles convinced me to try breaking through to him. Broke his weird... regulator... thingy... and then—"

Wolfwood's tone and body language slumps to something morose. Defeated.

"Looked like everythin' came rushin' back to him too fast. He offed himself, then fell overboard. I couldn't—I didn't stop it. Can't even go find the body, since... it's in the middle of the Sand Ocean, somewhere west of Hopeland. If the gunshot didn't kill him, the steamer probably tore him to shreds."

He scratches at the back of his head awkwardly, trying not to remember the despair he felt in that moment. Despair that he very quickly had to dispose of in order to focus on his job.

"So you can understand why I put a gun to you when you showed up, you big lug. Was only fair, since that's the way 'you' greeted me when we last saw each other. That and... Vash, he..."

Another sigh.

"We've been through a lot this past week and a half or so. Can't trust anyone anymore."

#familiar stranger;;forgivenpunishment #l/r (ic)#the young star;;orangetintedglasses #( ah and there's another wrench in the gears )#( Big Boy doesn't know Roberto and this WW doesnt know Milly )#(different timelines are so *fun* )

| L/R |

Too trusting. Just like that, even though Livio was ultimately grateful, it was too easy. If he really were bad and planned to get up to something, it was too easy to get Wolfwood to put that gun away... It reminded him of the Vash he knew well, who had fall asleep in his presence even though he'd just witnessed that fatal fight a day before... Too trusting.

Livio pushed his hat off his head and scratched at his short hair with both hands for a second, just, releasing the tension and trying to refocus himself. What a bizarre turn. But nothing with any of them was ever ordinary, was it? He took the offered chair, and straddled it, bracing his arms on the back of it with a sigh.

Once Wolfwood had started talking about what happened though, Livio wasn't sure he wanted to know... because its like being told you're dead, but you're sitting right there--Right. And there he was sitting right now, alive, when he knew his own brother in spirit was dead, too. Just two war machines, unable to stop the fates of those around them, huh?

Livio's expression settled into open surprise and confusion while he listened. So many things he doesn't understand. Regulator? And back then, he... he never would have gone after Wolfwood...

/Pffftt YEeeaaHH OKAY, like that woulda killed us, huh? He's got no idea! I bet Master Chapel's got'em back already.

Shaking his head, trying to clear it, deny Razlo's bullshit at the same time.

"No, I ... don't blame you. I wouldn't trust me either, as much as that sucks to say because--" He just shook his head again, rubbed a hand down his face, rubbing tears from his eyes before they could fall. Is there a world anywhere where they could fight side by side and trust each other, not be thrown against each other senselessly?

"Th-They have to have done it to--to test you. Sent him after you to, be assholes, or just to see what would happen. I can't even begin to understand it... I was isolated the entire time I devoted myself to.. To the Eye. I didn't see him again until... Well, until Knives started his crusade, and M-Master Chapel had other priorities at the time."

Wait--was that too much? If he talked too much, wouldn't that mess something up somehow? How was all this supposed to work, anyway? The histories didn't line up, so, does that mean their future might be different, too?

"E-enough about that, though, there's more important things!" he said, waving off the moroseness with a forced note of determination. "Is there anything you know to do to help Vash? Anyone we can ask? I'm surprised Miss Meryl and the big girl aren't on you guys' tails... They seemed particularly devoted to sticking around and doing their part, too..."

#;;big boy’s headcanons #;;queue #rennyrose

Mandatory de-stress Livio scribbs- just silly stuff, always silly, only silly

#;;big boy’s headcanons #;;queue #rennyrose

Plants and Part-Plants

With a reaction like that, Wolfwood is... slightly... more convinced that this is Livio. Somehow. He's not sure how, since Livio is worm chum in God-knows-where under iles and iles of sand, but... he seems to pass every check. Weird as hell.

After a turn and a click, Wolfwood opens the door to the room he and Vash had been sharing for a couple days now. It's in... questionable condition, if Livio looks too closely he'll find bloody towels and sheets soaking in the tub next to... other soiled linens (which Wolfwood has full intention of not letting him see). In general, the two seem to have left the place a mess. This Wolfwood has never been a fan of chores, and cleaning has never been his forte, unless it's his gun.

He allows Livio to enter first, perhaps against his better judgement—when else will he get the opportunity to be in close quarters with his 'brother' anyway? The only time he got to spend with Livio after getting taken away has been with Chapel or against one another. Sometimes both. This is ridiculous.

Wolfwood follows Livio in, then lies Vash onto the bed. He's not sure whether to give him a blanket or not, so for now he will just rest on top of them. The undertaker has a larger problem to deal with before things get ugly.

Stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray on the nightstand, Wolfwood shoots another piercing glare through Livio—right over the rims of his glasses.

The confusion doesn't let up. It's not right.

He drifts to the door again, this time locking it and placing the Punisher in front of it like a blockade. His hand rests on one of its arms as he contemplates his next move with a heavy sigh.

"Okay. I'm going to try this one more time," Wolfwood heel-turns and pulls a grader pistol from beneath his blazer. He keeps it leisurely pointed at the larger man before him—still unsure whether to attack or not. Notably, his trigger finger rests on the guard.

"My brother is dead. I watched him die. So who, or what, are you? How did you find me, how do you know him? What do you know about Knives or Legato?"

His face scrunches in frustration while he attempts to find the right question to ask.

"How much do you remember?"