#halcyon-mind

"O-oh, no! You don't have t--" It's not that the woman herself makes him nervous, not really. It's a little of the situation that gets the slightest sliver of an instant where his muscles lock up and he knows he might be driven to jerk back and create distance at the very least--

But he also knows the reason she's acting so quickly, crowding and touching and doing so with confidence, without even having seen evidence of that reason initially. Doctor, medic, help; Vash isn't sure why it feels so obvious seemingly long before the familiar sights are laid out before him, but it hardly matters when the tension unwinds. Not that it makes him any better a patient. "You really don't have to waste all that on me, I'll be fine--"

Okay, even he thinks he sounds like he's lying and he's not. It's just that she did see everything, apparently, and he's well aware that most of the time the decisions he makes and the things he does tend to seem... illogical. Yeah, that's a good word for it.

Okay, stupid, that's probably the more appropriate word; especially when the wince at the pressure on the wound can't possibly be helped. He hisses as quietly as he can through his teeth. Much as he can definitely say he's been through worse, pain is pain, no matter how well-meaning and delicate the hand. A good bedside manner helps, though. Along with intention.

"Hey, so. Here's a weird question." Starting off great. "There's a philosophy to healing, isn't there? I mean-- I know it's science. What to do and not to do, how to treat wounds so they'll heal from experience and observation and all that." Humans have been learning for some time, even if they'd had to do a little re-learning after technology became... well, more lost.

"Sometimes they still don't though. Heal, I mean." Vash hears a little shake in his own voice, trying to push it aside. "And sometimes people go against what they're supposed to do, or what's commonly considered the right things, or the best things, and they heal anyway."

x. | @halcyon--mind catches you :3

Vash stirs on the couch, her gentle voice softening the grogginess he feels. The familiar ache in his lower back twinges from laying down for too long. The couch was comfortable despite the heat, and he’s grateful for the rest.

He sits up and tries to hide a yawn ( and his plant canines ) with the back of his gloved hand. “You’re too kind to me, but golly did I need that. Thanks for letting me crash. I wasn’t out for too long, was I?” Vash cranes his neck toward a light source, but it’s difficult to tell whether it’s dawn or dusk.

"....Would you like my notes?" She's here to hopefully keep him from 1. getting eaten or 2. getting obliterated by powerful Pokemon.

He perks up a little, but it's a response very carefully held back out of caution. "Are they? thorough? Like... really thorough? Are there illustrations or charts?" He probably doesn't need any of that! Certainly not at the level he's asking about!

But he also probably really does and maybe it's very very important. "Are there at least really clear dos and don'ts? The don'ts would be most important, probably. Essential, even." Vash hints. Hints hard. Probably does a lot more than just hints, but he's trying to be confident or competent or... any of those things. Even while being aware he's already failed several times over.

Final Fantasy VII Remake Prompts | accepting but slowww

"Maybe we can get a decent radio signal out here..." He knows he can volunteer to sing, technically. It doesn't necessarily matter how good or bad that turns out, and it can always be a silly thing, but he--

He doesn't really want to. Not singing in earshot of anyone else, anyway.

"Oh hey, have you ever come across-- Well, there are different kinds, I guess. Ways to store music. A lot of them are disks! There might be cassettes, but those would be really rare and expensive and probably--"

Probably didn't survive. Collections of old, priceless things which would probably be useless now anyway.

< edge of seventeen by Stevie nicks >

The clouds never expect it when it rains

But the sea changes colours

But the sea does not change

So with the slow, graceful flow of age

I went forth with an age old desire to please

On the edge of seventeen

Just like the white winged dove

Sings a song, sounds like she's singing

I said ooh, baby, ooh, said ooh

Just like the white winged dove

Sings a song, sounds like she's singing

I said ooh, baby, ooh, said ooh