All Vash lets out is a squawk as hes bent in odd angles. The plant doesn’t even fight it, letting the psychic twist him into shapes no humanoid body should be twisted into. He deserves all the human’s anger, he really does, especially after how badly he’s hurt Knives. Vash almost wants to encourage it, goad the bluenette in some form of self destruction as twisted as the human could make him, would make him.
But, even without the influence of wires making him tongue tied, he can’t speak. doesn’t even know what to say. He hadn’t meant it, didn’t want to hurt his only brother and leave himself alone in the world. He didn’t even want Knives dead, no matter how often he’d told himself and others the opposite. “I-” he even didn’t think this would’ve happened. This was all another instance of Vash not knowing his own strength and the consequences in the aftermath.
“He-” Vash wouldn’t even be able to justify to Legato why he’d even thought of strangling his brother in the first place. The human worshiped Knives like a god, and even then, Vash’s reasoning for hurting his own brother was flimsy and horrific in its own right. What kind of Monster hurts his only family when they’re at their weakest, anyway?
What he does manage to get out is frantic and quiet “I didn’t mean to.”
“SHUT UP!” His power lashed out in his anger and distress, causing Vash’s limbs to jerk painfully in a way that would shatter most bones, but also caused a ripple to pass through the psychic’s body as the threads holding him together convulsed unnaturally. He was going to kill this man. He was going to do it slowly and painfully, perhaps even find Chapel and make HIM do it; if Master wasn’t alive, then there was no use for the damn traitor or this DEMON any longer-
No. Wait. He could feel it, slow but it was there. A heartbeat. His master was still alive. Another wave of emotion hit him, causing his control to waver and his body to twitch again with a soft whimper. It welled in his throat, but he swallowed it back down. He didn’t deserve to shed his putrid tears over Knives, he’d learned that, so he simply continued to use his power to assist his master in breathing until he felt the muscles begin to work on their own.
Legato turned back to Vash now, his expression turning cold.
“....’Didn’t mean to’? Is there another with my own abilities I’m unaware of? Were your hands moved against your will, Vash. The. Stampede?” The psychic hissed as he forced Vash back upright enough to look him in the eyes, and he walked closer. There was murder in his gaze still, venomous eyes locked onto Vash like a snake with it’s prey.
“Know this. If it wasn’t for your brother’s mercy in wishing you remain alive, I would have already skinned your ungrateful hide with your own fingernails. Despite the pain you’ve caused him, he still cherishes you, yet you throw it back into his face, no better than the scum you defend... But he didn’t say anything about your friends, did he?” Another tug of the threads pulled Vash closer, the plant beginning to feel the beginning painful tingle of nerve endings being forcefully stimulated.
“He didn’t say anything about your ‘friends’. Should I wrap your hands around their throats? See how much you ‘don’t mean it’ then?”
