Too sober for this shit

She'd always listened intently to when others would share their worlds with her. No matter how low her spirits were, those stories lifted them up high into the sky itself.

" Wait! Are you from a desert? " Suddenly her eyes lit up with a wild excitement seemingly from out of nowhere. " Oh, I have always wanted to visit such a place! Well, at least since Sir Badou told me about them. "

" What's it like seeing an endless beach? I do love worms, however. They are fun to watch in the rain- " She gasped lightly upon the realization of something else, however.

Can't help but remember where that whole situation got them, afterward. 'Eyes of a good guy', ugh Vash. And the kids though he was the corny one.

The smile fades quickly though.

"Had. Had a daughter. She was younger than you when she was killed. My son was a little older. Wife too." The sigh he gives is of an old man who's spent many years trying and failing to outrun his grief.

He's not sure he can hold himself from shattering, but why? Why was this praise be so impactful? Why does he feel one huff and puff away from his straw house falling apart?

Red finds brown and he whines, sinking into him to nibble his lip then kissing away the slight spark of pain.

"You have a treat to eat and we have places to be. If you want me to show you all... Then you better be ready to participate along the way, my love. Making things together... It brings me a joy I never had before." The tapestries taught him that. Yes it was their meanings, sure, but the power of watching them make something together...

He want's it everywhere in the home.

One more kiss and he pries away, clearly reluctant as hands raked down his chest, but he forces himself to his drink, setting down the small warm snack of a sandwich.

"Don't expect me to know what to do if you hand me pretty rocks and candles that smell funny," he chuckles, taking the moment to squeeze the vampire before he slipped away and took his sweet kisses with him. "But sure. I can follow directions well enough. If you explain nice and slow for poor old me." He winks and settles to eat the sandwich his love was so kind as to make him.

"We'll have to find some other things to make together then," he hums between bites. "Back home, that's basically the only way you had much of anything. You paid out the ass for something shipped from a big city, or you took whatever you could find and made something yourself. Gotta be some more things we can add around here together. Maybe when it comes around again we can add onto the tapestry too."

That would be good, though it wouldn't be until that festival came around again that anything would come of that idea. In the meantime, he's sure there's plenty of things they can make together, on top of whatever projects Astarion has in mind with his new spiritual stuff. Time for thinking about that later though. The sandwich doesn't last long but Roberto makes sure Astarion is finished with his drink before they head out again.

Gunsmoke, no matter where you may look at them from, never had stars as pretty as the ones here. Because of the mass swarms of worms that coated the skies on any given night seeing a clear view of all of them was near impossible. So as any star stunned person would, he’d been taking almost every night to stargaze. Little or small he spent hours studying them on the nights he couldn’t sleep, learning what little he could on the phone he was quite frankly struggling to learn.

On this night in particular he’d stopped because of the other onlookers. He wasn’t one for socializing, especially at night when drowse was slowly but surely overtaking his body, but the opportunity was one he deemed too good to give up. It could work his way if he was just careful! He’d just stand at the back, off to the side, and slip out and just…

Then someone spoke. Spoke to him. Great.

Turning to look at the older man his eyes narrow behind his slightly tilted sunglasses. Unlike the tone Roberto had used, he doesn’t meet him with that same friendliness. Nor does he respond to the first comment verbally. All he has to offer is a confused and slightly irritated gaze.

There was some truth behind it even though he didn’t voice it. He was stood there wishing for someone. As far as he knew (until he mentioned his name), this guy was just some old hag with a screw lose.

Just because Vash had been right (and Roberto had said things just as inane and goofy about all bits of a certain vampire) doesn't mean he didn't still think the comment was ridiculous.

"My Undertaker. My Nicholas D. Wolfwood claimed he was an undertaker when we met him first. Still don't think he even tried a little bit though." Roberto watches this more grizzled Wolfwood with a sharp gaze, far from an old drunk as he flicks out his lighter and touches the flame to his own cigarette before offering it to the other man.

"Guess I'm the only other Gunsmoke native you've run into then, huh? Ah well, there's worse. Your Vash told me he never met me before coming here, I suppose that means you haven't either. Long story short? Seems there's two versions of our world's story and they run into each other a bit in this place. My Vash and Wolfwood are here, and your Vash was, though he's gone now. Hundred Spoons and Bluebell are around, somewhere." A long breath has smoke floating around his face for a moment.

"Crazy sounding, I know. Especially coming from some old guy you don't know. But hey, at least you won't have any Eye of Michael after you here, and Spoons is more anxious ball of feathers then blades. Something about being convinced dying made Eden happen." Probably too much at once, but Roberto wants to be sure, by dropping the Eye mostly, that this Wolfwood takes the time to listen to him before writing him off entirely. If Roberto is lucky, he'll be more interested in questioning how the hell a random guy knows about the Eye and Wolfwood's connection to it and less interested in either bolting or trying to put Roberto through the nearest wall.

Though... If this Wolfwood is as fresh as he seems, Roberto might be able to handle him. Might. If he absolutely has to.

Well, it's a gamble either way.

As Roberto got up, Vash held on tight, burying his head into the shoulder of the older man who fought his way to the couch; long, spindly legs clinging to his waist and his arm tucked helplessly around his neck- he was determined not to go anywhere for a while, the comfortable cushions of the couch pressing against his side, the stump-for-an-arm aching in memory.

Besides, Roberto knows a mirror when he sees one. He's spent years doing the same damn thing.

So now, he just holds the Plant firm against his chest, one hand combing through fluffy hair as he tried not to think about why parts were significantly darker now. As long as Vash wants to sob into his shoulder, he doesn't mind. He'll be right here.

"Don't be sorry for me, kid," he hums as Vash pulls back to turn those huge, watery, blue eyes on him. A flick of his wrist has his jacket's sleeve down enough he can use it to wipe some of the wetness off Vash's cheeks. Not that it'll help much, but it's the gesture that counts here.

"I knew my luck was going to run out at some point, and I'd rather it did to keep one of you three safe than not. I hear Meryl went and saved you after anyway, which makes it worth it. As for your brother..." Roberto sighs. "Your brother's a monster. But he's got his reasons for being that way, doesn't he?" Not that Roberto really knows what made Nai into the monster he became, but there were reasons. Otherwise, the other one wouldn't be the way he is now.

Capping at 3, castmates and family exempt. Drop a message in the comments, on discord, or in my DMs if you've got a specific idea!

Where the old man will be poking around:

╰┈➤ AEVUM ISLES :: DECEMBER FESTIVAL ❂

Throughout the month of DECEMBER is HEARTHS RISING, a festival celebrating truth, unity, and new beginnings. Although the isles are blanketed in snow and carry the cold of the northern winds, residents of Arcanus City can be found gathering from Fanalea to the shores of the Lunar Seas.  Please refer to the ARCANUS ISLE COMPENDIUM for creature and plant references.

His coat was missing, his arm was missing- it was like he had been stripped of all that made him 'Vash The Stampede', and the lack of identity weighed on him like cement blocks. It's not like this was awful- but he had lost it all, and now he couldn't figure out what he was.

The soft words given to him tore his eyes back up, lip quivering as he rushed to close the gap, arms wrapped around the thick shoulders of his friend and he clung, refusing to let go as sobs tore from his throat.

Vash was never one to be painfully emotional- how he subtly showed it in many different ways, how he'd cry when he felt he needed to- but never as loud as he was now...maybe once before for pity points from Meryl.

"Nai...JuLai. Roberto, it was all my fault." He whined out, slowly sliding to the floor as his legs caved beneath him, clinging to the familiar jacket he could have sworn was rattier the last time he saw it...it didn't matter, he was just relieved HE was here to live and breathe to his inevitable end of his given lifespan as a human...the one pain he could not avoid, even if he ran.

The downfall to Vash was how reliant he was on others company.

His darkening blonde hair, near black had a feather like consistency now, probably due to the nature of the angel arm- he had taken a heavy hit from that untapped well that had been forced dry, and the transformation had only worsened how exhausted he looked- how fatigued his body felt and how shallow his skin looked- he was at his worst.

The dam cracks apart so, so easily, when before Vash was usually able to smile through anything. This isn't the same though, this is pure and complete devastation. Destruction of the city and himself on a scale that dwarfed Jennora and anything else Roberto knew of. Grief and pain flows off the kid as thick and fast as tears and Roberto follows him down to the ground to wrap his arms around the kid and pull him tight against his chest.

His shirt is going to be very wet, but he doesn't give a damn. One more of his kids is here and suffering, and he's going to do what little he can to try and ease that. One arm around Vash's shaking shoulders, one hand cradling the back of his head. He just lets him cry for a moment before looking up and around, frowning a bit. They're right outside the front door, in full view of anyone on the street. That won't do.

"Come here, kid, I got you."

It's surprisingly easy to scoop Vash up and hold the lanky form against his chest. A little awkward, given the kid's height, but no worse than carrying Astarion around in the end. Vash is worryingly light, and Roberto can't help but wonder if his arm was the only thing providing weight to his body. Is this natural for him, or a result of the way he knows Vash punishes himself by not eating?

Either way, it's easier than he'd have thought to stand up, the older human grunting a little with the effort and the protesting of his joints, and carry the kid inside. The door is summarily kicked closed, and Roberto wastes no time in carrying Vash to the couch. At the very least, they can be a little more comfortable during this breakdown.

He doesn't let go of the kid when he gets settled, just sits down and holds Vash as much in his lap as the long limbs will manage.

He looked like utter hell.

Sharp eyes catalog the differences between how the Plant looked now and when Roberto had last seen him... waving with a little closed eye smile as the elevator doors closed. Roberto trying to hide the nail in his gut from the other two, and knowing he'd probably failed, Vash definitely aware that this was all a trap for him.

His arm was gone, which was worrisome. Hell, Vash looked a lot like he had after the Rollo incident; exhausted, beaten, drained. Scared.

Roberto himself looks different, but only in the details. Still scruffy, but in a subtly neater way. A familiar jacket, but better made and better material. A leather sachel draped over his shoulder and the familiar small bulge of his derringer in his pocket.

"Oh kid," Roberto sighed and took a step forward himself. "What the hell happened to you, puppy?" He reaches out, slow enough Vash could duck or step away, to carefully ruffle that blonde mop of his. Only to freeze when he noticed something.

There was a chunk of black in Vash's hair that hadn't been there before.

Roberto might not really talk to the Knives he knows much, but Astarion sure does. Roberto knows what that chunk of blackness means.

"I had wanted to change the window to something more dramatic..." He leans into his sweet human, thinking it over slowly. "If you're sure, I think it would look lovely." He turns his head, seeing the door and weighs it up.

"Not immediately visible upon entering the home but will be when you are welcomed in." A personal private space whilst being open to the home. "And I am trying, darling. It's... Hard to beat two centuries of conditioning out." Especially after both moss and Sonare.

"It's why I asked you, my lovely voice of reason, and warned you what my silly choices would have been." He knows it's stupid to hide and suffocate himself, but it was hard not to think it and be unable to think beyond it.

"I'll leave the decorating up to you, as usual. I'm no good at it, obviously. This is why you're the one making pretty clothes for rich people and making off with all their keys for your hard work." He wants to be distracting and cheeky, but they are on a time limit and he really does need to keep that in mind. If they miss their appointment because he decided to flirt instead, he's going to be very annoyed with himself.

Still, he can take a minute to be a little appreciative of his very attractive and very silly boyfriend.

"Mi alma, I don't want you to hide. This is your house, take up all the space in it with whatever you want and I'll sit here and admire your taste. If you think there's any point in which I don't want to see you, you've forgotten that I'm very aware that I have the most clever, talented, amazing, and extremely gorgeous boyfriend on the whole island." He punctuates each description with a kiss to another part of the elf's face and jaw.

A drink is welcoming, though the subject of journalism is one the older man probably never thought was an eggshell.

Though honestly, if he's reading Badou's tone right, his straightforward answer probably won't provoke one.

"Having a business of my own and not just selling articles to whoever will buy them is nice. Journalism doesn't really make that much, relatively speaking. Astarion's raking in so much I feel like a damn sugar baby." He snorts and shakes his head.

There were things in the world that humans probably weren't meant to explore, and he was content with that.

Worms are at least a much easier subject.

"I think the people who named them saw the big, long ones in the sand at first and called those ones Worms. Probably didn't realize they were all the same species at first. They're just different stages of the same thing, and they get even smaller, too. When they spawn, they look like an aurora for all the glowing little dots floating in the air." He leans back and sighs, stretching out his side again.

Strange that something dangerous and terrible, at least from Roberto's description of them, could be beautiful like that-- but terrible things were often beautiful after all. Or at least... to judge whether something was dangerous merely based on how it looked wasn't wise. Still, he can't say he'd mind seeing it. Or just a regular aurora, since those weren't known for eating humans, as far as he knew.

He wondered if there were any here in this world. The books talked about them... maybe if he went to the right place at the right time.

Ah-- there his mind went, wandering off again. He pulled his attention back.

"Apparently, yeah. Don't know if it's all the small Worms that can do that or just that group, but apparently, they're a whole hive mind, so it's probably all of them if I had to guess." He glances over and smiles a little at the note-taking. Good habit to be in, that. Roberto had most of his notes in his head, but that was mostly from long practice. He did still carry his notebook after all.

Writing by hand was more familiar and comfortable. Phones were still not the most natural thing for him.

"I felt the wind when they flew past me, so I don't think it's an illusion. They made the little tiny ones form up into shapes and change colors, so I'd say it's probably something like the bigger ones forming the bulk of their body and the tiny ones making the details and outside form. Or something. At least the Worms just kidnapped us, though one of the big ones did swallow us up before. If I had to guess, that was probably to get Nicholas with our group at the time." He hadn't exactly pulled all that over properly since. Not a lot of time between finding out about where Wolfwood came from and dying and coming here. But now that he's thinking about it, it makes sense.

"I'm not making any promises, but I'm not one of those people who run right for danger either. I do try to keep out of trouble. More than some other people I can name." Honestly, most of the trouble Roberto finds himself in is because he got dragged there by someone else. It's not his fault his kids and boyfriend are trouble magnets!

"Well don't be dumb, then," Badou finishes.

A drink....he straightens just a little.

Damn his kids for slamming straight through his walls. He blames Meryl, specifically.

A drink is just what he needs. Maybe three.

"Good. I need one." Off he slouches, heading for the nearest bar. Quality doesn't matter so much, just nearness. They need a distraction.