Welcome to brrscenic Isola Radiale, Martel!

You will be housed in your Kharlan cottage in mistwood & You will retain everything you had in your previous stay 

Enjoy your stay!

He'd been doing everything in his power to ignore it-- pushing past the shaking in his legs, the heaviness in his arms and the haze behind his eyes to the best of his ability.. but when the night fell quiet, when the cries of the Latchers and the Kaiju grew dim in his ears, he finally gave into the temptation of allowing himself a moment of rest. His back landed heavy against a pile of rubble, breathing out through his mouth as he slid towards the ground to sit; the taste of iron prominent on his tongue as he silently wiped at his brow.

Almost immediately, Twoishe was jumping onto his knee; barking and whining quietly, as if asking Lloyd if he was okay. All the brunette could do was smile, patting the little Spiramonster on the head in reassurance.

"Don't worry, I'm alright-- I just need to sit down for a minute." Throughout everything that had happened in the last week, having Twoishe by his side again was getting Lloyd through the worst of it all. He wasn't even sure if they'd see each other again, but if they could.. then he'd be able to find his other friends eventually, right?

Though his battered smile was quick to drop as the sound of rustling reached his ears, alerting Lloyd immediately. He pulled Twoishe to sit on his shoulder as he quickly rose back to his feet-- hands ready at the hilts of his swords to fend off what he thought was another monster. Instead, however, the brunette couldn't believe his eyes as familiar green reached the burning brown of his own; surprise lighting his features as his hands fell from his weapons almost instantly.

"-- Martel?"

𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩! “honey, have you been crying? what is it? what’s wrong?” — by @greatseedling

   break is not one to react without thinking, usually. the query from a person he does not know, as he is still halfway out of consciousness, surprises him enough to let out a rather undignified sound.

   ' ... huh? '

   he blinks, confused, awareness like an old friend waving at him through a window far away. the clouds are dark. or is that his mind? mad hatter looms close, and break's chest aches, and he thinks he might have fainted, or passed out, or blinked for a little too long.

   his breath is quick and his throat burns. so does his face. but he hasn't been crying, he's sure of that.

   a slow reach up towards his face, fingers tracing cheeks that are very clearly wet and sticky, as well as another blink, reveal the opposite. from exhaustion? what ... happened?

   ' i'm ... have i? ' he's still not entirely caught up. he can't see her, can't even judge if she's truly benevolent or not. she doesn't have the answer to that question, yet break doesn't know what else to ask. in most other situations, he would have lashed out. but he's tired, a bone-deep exhaustion, and he feels a cough coming.

"It is, though—" Danny makes a small whine in his throat, as he stares at the very much dead potted plant. He bought it because the purple flowers reminded him of Sam. And he tried his best to take care of it, he really did!

But.

It seems he has the opposite of a green thumb. Barely a week under his care and the poor thing was a withered husk of itself. So, here he was, caught in the middle of hosting a miniature funeral for Ms. Prickly. It was some sort of succulent. How the hell did he manage to kill a succulent in such a short amount of time is beyond him. He'd like to know, too.

break the ice | accepting

"Oh me? I'm doing just finnnne!" Probably not the greatest liar around, considering she was dragging around way too many plastic bags like it was her duty in life. But a duty she was pretty good at.

zevran's eye is easily drawn towards the beautiful things of the world -- not only people, of course, but jewels and art. flowers, like the ones before him now. having borne witness to so much ugliness in his life, would it not be a shame to allow the little good to go unacknowledged?

"They are lovely." the myriad of colors, a whole spectrum of them, like a gradient wave dotting the rich soil, smelling like the most delicate perfume. "Ah, but not nearly as lovely as the woman beside them." alright, so maybe he had noticed more than just the blooms. sue him.

Send “#” for a RANDOM text.

[Text]: Hello, Martel. I am at the bookstore. I wanted to try getting you a book to read now that we have a porch swing. You can read outside if you like. [Text]: Would you prefer a love story about a knight and a thief, or a story about a child who befriends an ancient monster to fight a witch? [Text]: We can read it together and talk about it.

ultimately? i love him.

also canon doubles were allowed lol.

took a while to Actually "pick him up" here bc i wanted to have another episode in before making a call as to where his canon point would be set, as well as trying to secure a better grasp of this iteration of vash the stampede.

but if anyone's curious, i feel that the first episode alone offers a neat little slice of this multifaceted character. he's a deceptive klutz, impossibly kind, and weighed down with an immense fear that he can't quite seem to escape. pretty lovable, right? i think so too.

kind of guy you wanna throw into spirale's setting and conditions and crowd out of parts curiosity and hope, to see him continue to be as peace-loving as you'd expect. and help some others out too, if he doesn't screw that up.

......it's quite a different experience from the muses i usually write (shoutout to that other guy i'm currently writing). before vash, i'd been going on something like an 8-year(?) run or so of exclusively writing asocial and antisocial muses.