Master of Sound

"Before that, mind tellin' the rest of us here who the hell you are?" He growled. "It's clear you two know each other, but I got a hard time believin' a version of me would be so cozy with anyone on that side."

... still, though, he relinquished some of the burden when the undertaker took to supporting him, letting himself relax a little. Any other time he wouldn't have, but...

"I dunno if it's a g-good idea to ask about that right now..." he huffed, leaning against the undertaker a little heavier than he really meant to, nearly hanging off of him. "Other Vashes... w-were pretty concerned about telling me too much, before JuLai... and if this is someone we meet later..."

Aside from maybe a name, wouldn't learning too much about this guy and his relation to Wolfwood be kind of bad, right now...?

"I'm Midvalley the Hornfreak, Master of Sound, number seven of the Gun-ho Guns. Cha- er, Punisher? And I were partnered up for a while after I got personally forcefully drafted by Millions Knives. I'm willing to do just slightly shy of anything at all to get the hell out of here." He taps his nails idly on the brass of his instrument.

"I haven't met another me that might match up with you two but if he's like me well... I don't want to be here but I'd very much like to continue breathing."

It certainly seemed like the younger Wolfwood was far more on Vash's side then Knives' so... fuck it. Maybe another him had better luck, gods knew he sure didn't.

He did, however, shoot a glance at Midvalley as he spoke, not entirely sure what to make of him, yet.

"Hey, hey, easy." Wolfwood frowned in concern, moving to kneel in front of Midvalley's view of Vash. It was rare that he would willingly show his back to someone who had just been on the attack, but... well, this was a Vash. Even if he'd gotten hit, he trusted the outlaw not to kill him. "He wasn't gonna kill me, Player. You remember what I told ya, yeah? He was probably jus' lashin' out cuz I hurt the other guy. Hopefully now that everyone's calmed down," the last part was emphasized for the two behind him, "nobody else has to get hurt."

Can't exactly blame the guy, I guess.

"Sh-should probably... get going, yeah...?" he posed softly to his undertaker, trying to keep it down for the sake of the terrified musician. Kinda felt like his throat was fried, too-- "think I've caused enough trouble..."

... getting up was going to take a minute. Getting up without letting out any whimpers or whines was gonna make it take even longer, pushing himself up onto one knee, then further up, back on his feet again, all while the voltage on his nerves was cranked violently up and down. But he'd get there--

He breathes in and flexes his fingers to forcefully loosen their death grip on Sylvia's neck.

"Sorry... Its... that's what He did to my band. I thought... give me a minute. I'll be fine." He won't but he'll be able to lock the terror back up behind his charismatic walls again at least. The appearance of fine if nothing else.

Somewhat reluctantly, he leans a bit to peer at the other two past Nick though he doesn't move enough to not be hiding behind him.

"Sorry... Stampede. You should probably sit down. I can hear your nerves screaming." Not exactly but he can sure hear the tense and tremble of muscle that he's hiding really well. Not that Midvalley has any olive branches to offer, since he was the one that started things, but he's trusting Nick here.

"I think we need drinks. A lot of them."

"Hm... Yeah, I get your line of thinkin' there, but it's still dumb as fuck thinkin'. Ya really didn't expect to fuck with a Vash an' not have his guard dog sniffin' after ya? Especially one that doesn't already know ya?" He couldn't resist poking at the younger one's cheek in emphasis, easily dodging the attempted bite. It did bring his attention back to the feral little pup in question, and he tightened his grip around the kid's neck to make sure he had his attention.

"An' you. You gonna keep actin' like a rabid dog if I let you go, or you gonna be civilized?" There was an underlying threat there, one that had Nico pause in his squirming for several seconds before giving a reluctant nod. Ready to grab (or shoot) him again if he made any move towards the musician, Wolfwood reluctantly released the brat, giving him a shove towards the younger Vash. As much as he'd like to make sure the little guy was okay, he figured a (more) familiar person would help him relax.

Plus, he had someone of his own he wanted to make sure was alright.

"Hey." Now that he didn't have to (immediately) worry about the little beast ripping anyone apart, he was able to approach the musician, sidling next to him in concern. "You sure you're alright? Ya really lost your cool there. That ain't like you."

"Blondie!" Nicholas scrambled over to Vash. "You okay?!"

Didn't see, like either of the older gunmen were going to try anything while they were busy with each other. He could focus on his Wolfwood, now.

"M'fine, just... sore? I think...?" he laughed weakly, resting his hands on his lap. The placating smile shifted and the mask changed, now wearing a more genuine look of concern, though noticeably marred by exertion and fatigue, "w-what about you, though, you're the one who got the brunt of an assault...!"

All Midvalley can see is Knives, Knives, Knives.

He leans into Nick when the other man settles beside him. Most of the trembles are controlled now but... his hands are still shaking. He wraps them around Sylvia to try to hide it, though he's pretty sure Nick can see anyway.

"He was aiming at you," he croaks. "Would have ripped you apart too, I can't- Fuck. They're both monsters, how can you-?" He's still breathing too fast, terrified attention fixed on the Plant. "We gotta get out of here, Killer, he's gonna kill you."

And Midvalley can't lose Nick too. He can't do it.

He had so much data to process in his head now, though, just floating around and pulling for his attention-- just who these people with them were, what the name Chapel meant to Wolfwood, and why the musician was so shaken up, now --but when he caught one of the undertaker's worried glances, Vash pulled himself back out of his head and smiled, brows knit in an upward slant in the center of his forehead. That typical 'don't worry about me' smile. He was fine, there wasn't any real damage done to him, anyway...

... at least the other Wolfwood was letting Nico heal. This wasn't his fault, and he was the only one who actually ended up hurt-- he'd have to make it up to him, later...

"I was thinking, I dropped a Plant with one note, on accident while I was doing vocal stretches. If it works on one it might work on two and there is no god that will save me if I happen to be in range of another one and do that." Just the mere thought of it being an entirely innocent accident has him paling several shades again, borderline nauseous with terror. It's not the original reason (because now he really really doesn't trust Punisher not to attack him for saying anything) but it's a reason so it's true.

Knives would absolutely rip him apart if he thought Midvalley could take him down. It would be the merciful way of dying to the monster at least.

"It's temporary, he started coming out a couple of times. Screaming isn't nearly as effective as Sylvia is." Speaking of which... He finally does uncurl (after a glance at the Plant to see his glowing dim and fade) and snatches up his beloved sax. He holds her wrapped in his arms instead of ready to play, figuring that might appease everyone else, and doesn't bother going for his dropped pistol.

Since apparently Nick was mad at him now too.

Midvalley takes it upon himself to press into the corner furthest from everyone, since he can't really get out the door without going past Punisher and Chapel.

"Hate me all you want, I don't care. You can join the list, it's pretty long now."

... wait, was this another Wolfwood...?

"Khh... kidnapped..." he managed, though the word was spit out more than it was heaved, anger still chugging through his veins. It wasn't time to be curious. Some other, older Wolfwood or not, he'd done more than enough damage compared to anyone else here; even the damn musician who'd spent the better part of an hour torturing him to get a leg up on his-- on a version of his brother.

Maybe he'd feel sympathy to that cause again later, when the only thing keeping him tethered to the moment wasn't the grip of the cold fury in his chest.

"He... did th-that sound thing, kn-knocked me... down, brought me... here..."

He doesn't uncurl all the way, still too scared of the furious Plant to risk moving too much. But he calms ever so slightly, enough to process the question he's being asked.

"Practis-sing," he stutters out, then drags in a breath to force his voice steady. "Whistling notes, I hit one, dropped him out of nowhere. Didn't realize, at first. But he sounds like Him, sort of. I could tell who he was. I dropped a Plant with one note. I needed to know how well it worked. If it worked on him maybe... Chapel I had to know." He probably sounds more then a little hysterical still, the shaking only slowly dying away as he focuses on Nick rather then the angry Plant slowly regaining his senses. At the very least he knows he doesn't have to elaborate on why knowing how well this sound worked was important, not to Nick. He's the only one he trusts to know.

"I was mostly trying not to hurt him, didn't expect little you. Listening to him too hard, wasn't paying attention. Stupid."

Whether it was the method of execution this time or his powers actively dulling the paralyzing effects of the tone, Vash had no idea. He didn't care to think about it. But with their motive interrupted, his roots receded, pulling back into their source and disappearing as quickly as they came.

Wracked with tremors and head hanging just an inch or two over the floor, Vash was subdued for the moment, panting hard and casting that unnatural glow on the wood.

As he desperately wheezes for a breath, all that comes out of his throat is a thin, terrified whine and he curls up defensively as a last ditch effort to protect himself, not that it would be of much use against the powers at play.

He's still shaking uncontrollably, visions of blood and body parts playing over the current scene. At least the roots are gone but the Plant is still there, doing Plant things, and he's on the ground where he has even less of a chance of stopping it-!

Getting himself into a sitting position had been a struggle. Locked muscles refused to budge, coiled in agony under his skin, but in a pinch... well. He was definitely gonna feel the effort in the morning as Vash tapped into something he usually refused to even acknowledge; using that power to forcibly take control and power through. Getting enough control back to give to shaking, heavy arms that pushed him up, and one boot planted firmly on the floor to stabilize himself for the barrage, the neon white of his patterns swallowing up his eyes and gifted him a literal white-hot glare, pointed squarely in the direction of the other two.

He didn't look good, but he was definitely up, now, and ready to help even the playing field.

"That's... ENOUGH...!"

Even less when he could hear the broken bones grind and tear under his skin. Monster that he was, that still had to hurt like an absolute bitch.

"Yeah, just bruised-" The Plant moves. He shouldn't be able to move. That glow lights under his skin again but this time it brightens his eyes with brilliant white as he flings out an attack and all Midvalley can see is Knives. Knives staring him down, Knives watching his bandmates raise their instruments, Knives casually raising his hand.

Wolfwood is right in the way of a black tangle and Midvalley doesn't think before he moves.

He can't do this again, he can't lose someone like this again, he can't see a spray of blood and eviscerated body parts, he can't, he can't lose Nick like that too.

"NICK-!!" He screams in pure panic and throws himself bodily at his friend to tackle him out of the way. There's no way he'll be able to raise Sylvia in time or manage a whistle so instead he screams, grabs the woundwaves and yanks them into the closest approximation of that painful tone, anything to buy a few more seconds-!

The musician's gone practically grey, panic pulled his eyes wide and terrified, and he shakes in utter terror. But he isn't going to stand down this time, he won't lose someone else without going down swinging himself.

Gunshots derailed that train of thought pretty quickly, though, blue eyes tearing for the door. He hadn't sensed anyone else coming whatsoever, his range of awareness barely able to reach beyond himself as it stood. All he could do was watch as the fourth party entered, shot, and--

No, no no NO NO NO--!!

--and switch every synapse he had back to trying to fight against his immobility as the newest attendee of this terrible party shoved his way between Wolfwood and the musician, gun still trained on the undertaker. Had to get up, had to move, had to HELP--!! GET UP! GET UP!!

Immediately he's taking cover behind his Wolfwood, relief flooding through him at the appearance of backup, even if his ears are ringing a bit from the shots.

"God your timing is brilliant, Killer," he breathes as he draws his own pistol from inside his jacket. He doesn't aim it at the younger version of his friend(?) but holds it drawn, just keeping it in case. Sylvia would be better but he doesn't much want to blow out everyone's brains or do more damage to the building.

"Not particularly trying to kill anyone here, least of all another Punisher or the Plant. He'll get back up, he's not down for good."

He doesn't know what Chapel will think of his current extracurricular activities but if it helped them get an edge in this fight he feels like he can be forgiven for his little experiment. Hopefully.

Midvalley the Hornfreak! A piece for the 800 follower giveaway I held on my Twitter.

The blond hasn't said anything. He hasn't moved from that spot, only confirming his concerns... The only reason Vash wouldn't have already started yelling at him for attacking the man that had hurt him (like an idiot) was if he COULDN'T.

"That didn't answer my question, asshole! What. Did. You. Do to him?!" He'd been about to question him more when the man uttered a name that had him freezing in place.

Chapel...?

"You..." His grip tightened on the trigger. "How the HELL do you know that name?! Who the fuck ARE you?!"

Don't hurt him, please don't hurt him, please--

--and, of course, plead for him not to hurt the musician inside his own head. This-- this was just an awkward situation, he could help clear it up, just don't kill him before this wore off...!

"We have the same employer," he wheezes carefully, glancing at the Plant for a second. "I'm not on duty right now and what I did... some kind of full body muscular reaction to a specific tone. I'm trying to figure out how extensive the reaction is." He frowns.

"I'm Midvalley the Hornfreak. I'm a friend of my Chapel. Or Punisher I guess if that title isn't in play yet. I'm not stupid enough to permanently hurt him unless I get orders."

Good enough? He can only hope. He'd basically told the Plant he was trying to neutralize his brother but he doesn't dare mention that to this younger Chapel. He doesn't know how open he can be, how dangerous talking to this one is.

Its been a long time since he was particularly scared of Chapel but he's remembering those early days before they got to know each other now. Wary, circling, Midvalley always knowing he's at a disadvantage. He hates it.

The door didn't have a chance as it was rammed open, one royally pissed-off Wolfwood barging in with his cross already drawn. As soon as he saw the scene, his eyes snapped to Vash; he was clearly in pain, likely even worse than he was showing (the damn martyr). Fury rising, he turned to the one making that noise (and the only other one in the room) with a snarl, slamming the musician against the wall. If he knocked the air out of him, he couldn't keep playing. Or so was his logic.

Wolfwood stepped back just enough to raise the business end of the Punisher, aim steady.

"I'm givin' you one chance, an' one chance only. The fuck are you doin' to him?!"

All logic, reason and mental pleading went straight out the window as that familiar sound flooded his senses with another fresh round of pain. He hadn't even had enough time to kick himself before his body reacted, leaving him struggling to breathe, to see--

!!!

--though it was hard to miss the sound of the door being forced open and another body entering the room, the black and grey shape moving fast and growling something over the sound of blood wooshing in his ears.

Wolfwood...?

Chapel-?

He hesitates and suffers for it. He's not sure why exactly the you ger version of his friend is attacking him and in his confusion takes a shoulder straight to the chest and collides back first with the wall. Midvalley only barely maintains his grip on Sylvia as he suddenly finds himself in the extremely unfortunate position of staring down the barrel of the Punisher.

Oh, so this what those fugitives they make Chapel hunt down feel like. Noted.

He knows he doesn't have an ice cube's chance in the desert at drawing a weapon on Chapel, any version, and he doesn't actually want to hurt him anyway so, slowly, he holds Sylvia out to the side and raises his other open hand. Maybe it'll buy him a second as he wheezes for air and then coughs when his lungs decide to function again.

"Nothing... that'll... kill him. The hell... Chapel!? I'd be... dead." He tries to keep his coughing as contained as he can, hoping the guy (kid?) doesn't just get twitchy enough to pull the trigger.

"Well at least you don't seem to be dying. You don't sound like you're dying anyway. Is it going to be enough to keep me from being shredded though... hell."

Maybe, maybe not.

Not like this could get any worse...

It'd be taxing to trigger in the current set of circumstances, and it probably wouldn't last very long, but the Plant could at least manage a light show. A deep breath in, a slow, shaky breath out, putting the energy he had into emulating the same feeling he felt during a connection...

Please... this is all I can do, but... I hope it helps...

All he needed was one chance, one moment where Knives couldn't move or use his blades and he could end everything right then.

Yes, he'd have to deal with Legato and Crimsonnail at least but between him and Chapel surely they could figure something out. Neither of them could heal and if he had just a split second he could kill them like any other human. They could do it, he could do it, he just needed to be sure.

The glowing is new, not something his version of Plants do as far as he knows. Which means he doesn't know what exactly this guy is up to which means, well, it's a threat.

He wanted to see if this tone could cut off the use of their powers, here it goes.

He could hurt a Plant, specifically he could hurt an Independent Plant.

Of course that he'd known but now he could probably do so more efficiently and in a way that Knives might not have a chance to strike first. Maybe.

"Alright, that looks painful, sorry about that." Fingers tap thoughtfully on the keys of his sax. "Maybe modulating the tone a little? What's the range on this reaction? Hmm." The mouthpiece returns to his lips and he sets to do just that, see how far from that specific wavelength he can get before it stops being effective.

Does it make the reaction worse to modulate it? Better? He'll need to see how long it lasts with Sylvia's help too... carefully. Actually damaging this twin will have the other at his throat within seconds and he doesn't want to find out how fast this Knives will rip him apart.

And when the new, slightly different-sounding tone took over and managed to ease some of it off, Vash wasn't sure if he could even call it a relief, really. It just wasn't hurting as much, now, which he guessed was something, but it still felt... bad.

The Plant wilted after a few long, long moments-- muscles going slack where they could and eyes going a little glassy as the pain ebbed away, and his body did his best to soothe what left him feeling like he'd just been through hours of torture, delivered in under ten minutes. Was he stuck, still? Probably, but summoning the energy to try and test it wasn't something he was looking to do. Not yet. Not for another few moments or so, the seconds crawling along agonizingly slow in his slightly-distorted perception of time.

It's fine. S'fine, he's going to let you go eventually. Just tough it out.

"Well at least you don't seem to be dying. You don't sound like you're dying anyway. Is it going to be enough to keep me from being shredded though... hell."

Maybe, maybe not.