#creature!vash

Vash sat up, panting from the effects of bad memories invading his sleep. And then fell off the side of the bed with an undignified squawk. He got his artificial arm underneath him. It had a multitude of cracks running through it; stress fractures from holding up the ion cannon decorating it like veins or spiderwebs. Brad would definitely scold him for damaging the man’s masterpiece. He moved his other arm to push off the floor and froze. Blunt fingertips and nails had become long, sharp, pearlescent tips, like claws, that melded straight into the skin of his fingers. They clicked slightly against the floor as he wiggled them. Yep, those were his digits.