[ Honestly, it's probably a little invasive, but Vash is beyond letting something like that stop him. He chats with the clinic attendant, gestures at the basket piled with fruit and jars of water, and asks oh so nicely if someone with Knive's description happens to be staying in the clinic.
Judging by the... reaction Vash is pretty certain he has the right place. Hes left to his own devices as he wanders through the clinic to the space that has Knives' bed. Instead of making himself known on purpose he simply sets the basket down on a table with knives' name written on a notecard.
It's a strange little gift, maybe but it's one that he's put some thought behind even if he's too much of a coward to face his brother again on purpose. ]
[Knives hadn't intended to stay at the clinic for more than a day, and he objected outright to being confined to bed rest, even if that might have helped his wounds heal faster and not reopen. He needs to learn more about his circumstances, and no matter how kindly he's treated, nor how effectively they heal him, this whole place has him on edge.
Still, he's not totally stubborn, and realises he should at least stay until the worst of his wounds have been dealt with. The last thing he expects when he returns to his bed, though, is a gift. He picks up the notecard--
And almost crumples it in his hand. The handwriting is one he hasn't seen in a century and a half.
But he doesn't. He sets the notecard back on the table, and takes an apple. A reminder, then, that it's not just for his own sake he needs to get his strength back.]
[ He's not sure what he's doing. If someone were to ask him what exactly his plan is, all Vash could do would be to shrug. He doesn't know. A year or two ago, he wouldn't be here, hiking up the hill through the grass with a box and a couple of fishing poles tossed over his shoulder. He wouldn't even consider it. In fact, there's some part of his train of thought that is yelling at him, screaming to turn around and leave well enough alone. But he doesn't, he keeps putting one foot in front of the other, and eventually he catches sight of blonde hair or a scraggly hoodie.
He exhales a breath and wills away the way the hair stands up on the back of his neck, then breathes in through his nose. He's not sure when Knives will notice his approach, but regardless he doesn't let it stop him. When he's practically standing next to him he drops the tacklebox down next to his feet. ]
Let's go fishing.
[ No explanation, no elaboration, just... let's go. Just the two of them. ]
[Knives had deliberately chosen this spot to avoid being disturbed. The city is too much for him; even if the humans are few and far between compared to dragonkin and others, there are still too many with more curiosity than common sense, or meddlers who seem too keen to be involved in his business for his liking. When he'd presided over July, it had been far, far easier to stay apart from the swarming masses below, and he could delegate others to handle matters for him.
But it's peaceful out here. Remote enough, too, that he doesn't expect to spot Vash approach, from his vantage point sitting in the shade of a tree. For Knives' part, he's not hiding under a hood out here, showing the worst of his burn wounds are receding, but there's still a tired and drawn look to his expression.]
Fishing. [He repeats, closing the book he'd been reading and setting it aside. He looks at the tacklebox, then up at Vash.] Why?
[ It's a valid question, no matter the way it's being asked. They haven't exactly gotten along, not in a long time, and certainly not here in this place, despite everything. Vash lets his thoughts wander for a minute, his gaze watching the book in his brother's hands like staring at it is going to give him the title of it.
He's quiet for an extended amount of time, but eventually he looks back towards his brother's face, his own expression something carefully neutral but calm, thoughtful. The poles in his hand are propped up on their handles, leaning against the trunk of the tree. He thinks back to a promise he'd made upon returning here and with a deep breath in he opens his mouth to answer. ]
Because I promised I'd try. You're my brother.
[ He'd try. But if Nai is here, then trying included attempting to reach his brother in one way or another. Anything was better than the last time they'd seen each other before Nai wound up here with him and everyone else. ]
[The book is on the local history of Lumindeas, Vash might notice. Knives doesn't mind the extended quiet between them, but he does watch his brother expectantly as he props the poles against the tree, seems to place his thoughts in order.]
Promised who? [His initial response, suspicious. As if Vash might have some ulterior motive for promising such a thing to someone else, not to him. Vash always chooses others over him.
Still, despite that spiteful assessment, he comes to a decision before it can dissolve into another argument. His movements are a little stiff and pained, but not as severe as before, as he rises to his feet.]
[ Vash catches himself before he rolls his eyes. He does, however, exhale a sigh as he rolls his shoulders in a shrug. ]
Myself, really. [ Dolph too, but Knives doesn't need to know that right now. Maybe not ever. He watches his brother move, and a frown filters onto his expression as he observes the stiff way he moves, the pain evident. A renewed pang of guilt ricochets through his chest and he looks away, picking up the two fishing rods again. ]
But... thanks. I'm glad. [ He offers Knives a smile then, one that's small and brief, but one that's genuine. ] It's a bit of a walk.
[He picks up the tacklebox, examining it idly, perhaps for an excuse to ignore the way Vash keeps looking at him. His little brother is so predictable.]
Then there is no need to waste time lingering. [The smile is met with apparent indifference, as is the unspoken question. But it occurs to him, vaguely, that it might be the first time Vash has given him a genuine smile in a very long time.] Lead the way.
[ He can only spend so much time staring at his brother while trying to figure him out before it gets called out even more forcefully, so Vash shoulders the fishing poles and ambles back down the path towards the coastline that's nearby. His boots slip on some loose rock and for a moment he flails as he scrambles to grab his footing.
Its brief overall but the laugh it yanks out of his chest is genuinely humored. ]
Careful. Uh... loose rocks.
[ Okay, well. No one ever said he was smooth, and maybe this whole situation has him more on edge than he wants to admit to himself. He can certainly feel his heart hammering in his chest, even as they keep walking without saying too much. ]
[Knives had never been much of a conversationalist, even all those years ago, but what might have been companionable silence they shared as children is now something far more pointed and oppressive. Almost as if he's trying to bait out whatever Vash has on his mind, even if Knives isn't being obvious about it, paying more attention to his surroundings than to him as they walk.
Vash slipping on a rock interrupts the tension, though, and for a brief moment he reaches as if to snag him by the hood of his jacket, but his brother manages to regain his footing before it's needed.]
Graceful as ever.
[He mocks with a derisive noise, though for once, there's not much venom behind it.]
[ It takes a lot of brainpower to weave together interpretations of his brother's tone, body language or what he says most of the time. Now isn't any different but Vash doesn't miss the lack of spice behind the words, negative as they are.
Vash just lifts a hand up to rub at the back of his own undercut, a motion that's all too common when he's just a little nervous or unsure. The laugh that follows is quiet. ]
Yeah, guess so. [ A pause. ] Didn't fall though, so guess I'm still one up.
[ He glances over towards knives, his expression carefully constructed but gentle. ]
...So, I was thinking about setting up along the coast over there.
[ He points with the fishing poles, a distant coastline near some older unused docks stretching out towards deeper waters. ]
[Knives' gaze follows along to where he points. A spot where they're unlikely to be disturbed, it seems, which suits him just fine. Whether Vash chose it out of consideration or fear is another matter, but the end result is the same.]
Suitable enough. [He says, with no fishing expertise whatsoever. A neutral remark for now, his gaze turning downward to focus on his own footing. He's not about to beef it when he's much unsteadier on his feet but just made fun of Vash for it.]
It seems you've been enjoying yourself, learning the ways of the old world.
[ A little of column A, a little of column B. But he's not going to admit to either, even if he does get asked. It's just a place to fish, that's it, that's all. Vash takes the neutral answer for what it is, his reply an equally neutram hum of agreement. He's no expert either, but he does like the quiet that comes with fishing. It always feels so serene. He's hoping his brother might find some kind of similar peace, maybe.
He subtly watches each place his brother plants his feet, almost like he's ready to jump and help if he sees reason to. It's a lot of downhill walking, at least for a little longer before they get to the plain and the beach to cross. ]
Yeah, I guess so. When in Rome, right? It's relatively peaceful here, most of the time.
[ He's grown quite fond of it, of the other Dreamers, and of many locals he's made friends with. ]
It's completely different from anything back home.
[The shifting rocks beneath them means Knives misjudges his step and it jars his wounded leg, though he makes little visible indication of it besides the awkward pause in his gait and the way his expression tightens. He'd sooner go through the indignity of flinging himself down the slope to get down than to rely on Vash.]
A peaceful world is all I wanted for you.
[His voice is soft, avoiding Vash's gaze. He's not interested in rehashing any recent arguments about it, except to add--]
But this is still just a dream, Vash. And dreams are fleeting.
[ If vash noticed the subtle shift in Knives' gait or the strain in his face he doesn't make it obvious. Instead he just regards what his brother says quietly. It's funny how the context of just a couple of sentences can hit entirely differently when the tone and atmosphere around them aren't as fraught.
His expression remains soft, if a little sad. His grip on the fishing poles tightens a little, and though he glances in Knives' direction briefly he's ALSO avoiding eye contact. He doesn't close his eyes because he's almost certain if he did he'd fall on his face but... the sigh that is breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth might as well illustrate him with a closed eyed expression. ]
I know. [ To which? Both? Probably. ] But it's all some people have, so it's real to them. Going home just means to die for some people. [ There's a pointed glance over in his brother's direction. ]
Dolph's found a whole new life here. Something for himself when he didn't have anything like that where he came from. So if it's real to him, then it's real to me.
[ He stops as they come to a slope that means either they're going to have to shimmy down slowly or slide down on their butts. He turns to look at Knives, and without much of a word he holds his arm out, crooked, to offer support. Or maybe to just work in tandem so they don't both take a tumble. ]
[Knives has to take a moment to comprehend what he's being told. He scarcely remembers who 'Dolph' is -- had only put a name to the face via the network, and he'd been half-delirious from pain when the man had brought him to that hill -- but it suddenly makes sense why he'd spoken as if he knows Vash well.
It's less swallowing his pride, and more a spiteful act of jealousy, that has him take Vash's arm.]
Always letting them lead you astray. [Though maybe that's unfair to Dolph, so he amends:] Or perhaps you do it to yourself. Even he had the sense to name this place a cage.
[It's doubly bitter for him, when Vash had given such a grand display of wanting to remain at the side of the humans in their own world, now seeming to have abandoned that sentiment. Once again, he's proving himself the weak little brother, constantly pulled around by forces he doesn't understand, too soft-hearted to defend himself from it.]
[ Vash doesn't react to the grip on his arm other than to make sure to try and hold them both steady as they march down the hill. He's concentrating on watching where his feet are landing -- his brother's too for that matter, so for a moment he's silent. It doesn't take over long before he's responding. ]
Dolph's way more practical than I am, but he still hears what I have to say. Maybe it's part of why we get along so well.
[ He's not so sure he agrees with calling it a cage, though he's understood why some might see it that way. Dolph's far from the only person who views this world that way. ]
We don't always see everything the same, and that's okay.
[He feels foolish, to have to lean on Vash for a task even this simple, but at least they're able to move at a steady pace. His pride's taken enough knocks lately that he's able to acknowledge that much.]
If he has nothing else to live for, what alternative would a man have but to indulge such daydreams? In that sense, he has little choice but to listen to you.
[Few would make the choice Knives wishes to, he figures. Humans are too cowardly.]
Plants a flag in this space (after their TDM Thread)
Judging by the... reaction Vash is pretty certain he has the right place. Hes left to his own devices as he wanders through the clinic to the space that has Knives' bed. Instead of making himself known on purpose he simply sets the basket down on a table with knives' name written on a notecard.
It's a strange little gift, maybe but it's one that he's put some thought behind even if he's too much of a coward to face his brother again on purpose. ]
plants... I see what you did
Still, he's not totally stubborn, and realises he should at least stay until the worst of his wounds have been dealt with. The last thing he expects when he returns to his bed, though, is a gift. He picks up the notecard--
And almost crumples it in his hand. The handwriting is one he hasn't seen in a century and a half.
But he doesn't. He sets the notecard back on the table, and takes an apple. A reminder, then, that it's not just for his own sake he needs to get his strength back.]
I'm back again
He exhales a breath and wills away the way the hair stands up on the back of his neck, then breathes in through his nose. He's not sure when Knives will notice his approach, but regardless he doesn't let it stop him. When he's practically standing next to him he drops the tacklebox down next to his feet. ]
Let's go fishing.
[ No explanation, no elaboration, just... let's go. Just the two of them. ]
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But it's peaceful out here. Remote enough, too, that he doesn't expect to spot Vash approach, from his vantage point sitting in the shade of a tree. For Knives' part, he's not hiding under a hood out here, showing the worst of his burn wounds are receding, but there's still a tired and drawn look to his expression.]
Fishing. [He repeats, closing the book he'd been reading and setting it aside. He looks at the tacklebox, then up at Vash.] Why?
[Why fishing, or why with him -- or both.]
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He's quiet for an extended amount of time, but eventually he looks back towards his brother's face, his own expression something carefully neutral but calm, thoughtful. The poles in his hand are propped up on their handles, leaning against the trunk of the tree. He thinks back to a promise he'd made upon returning here and with a deep breath in he opens his mouth to answer. ]
Because I promised I'd try. You're my brother.
[ He'd try. But if Nai is here, then trying included attempting to reach his brother in one way or another. Anything was better than the last time they'd seen each other before Nai wound up here with him and everyone else. ]
But you might like it, it's pretty relaxing.
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Promised who? [His initial response, suspicious. As if Vash might have some ulterior motive for promising such a thing to someone else, not to him. Vash always chooses others over him.
Still, despite that spiteful assessment, he comes to a decision before it can dissolve into another argument. His movements are a little stiff and pained, but not as severe as before, as he rises to his feet.]
I'll join you.
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Myself, really. [ Dolph too, but Knives doesn't need to know that right now. Maybe not ever. He watches his brother move, and a frown filters onto his expression as he observes the stiff way he moves, the pain evident. A renewed pang of guilt ricochets through his chest and he looks away, picking up the two fishing rods again. ]
But... thanks. I'm glad. [ He offers Knives a smile then, one that's small and brief, but one that's genuine. ] It's a bit of a walk.
[ Are you going to be okay to do it? ]
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Then there is no need to waste time lingering. [The smile is met with apparent indifference, as is the unspoken question. But it occurs to him, vaguely, that it might be the first time Vash has given him a genuine smile in a very long time.] Lead the way.
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[ He can only spend so much time staring at his brother while trying to figure him out before it gets called out even more forcefully, so Vash shoulders the fishing poles and ambles back down the path towards the coastline that's nearby. His boots slip on some loose rock and for a moment he flails as he scrambles to grab his footing.
Its brief overall but the laugh it yanks out of his chest is genuinely humored. ]
Careful. Uh... loose rocks.
[ Okay, well. No one ever said he was smooth, and maybe this whole situation has him more on edge than he wants to admit to himself. He can certainly feel his heart hammering in his chest, even as they keep walking without saying too much. ]
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Vash slipping on a rock interrupts the tension, though, and for a brief moment he reaches as if to snag him by the hood of his jacket, but his brother manages to regain his footing before it's needed.]
Graceful as ever.
[He mocks with a derisive noise, though for once, there's not much venom behind it.]
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Vash just lifts a hand up to rub at the back of his own undercut, a motion that's all too common when he's just a little nervous or unsure. The laugh that follows is quiet. ]
Yeah, guess so. [ A pause. ] Didn't fall though, so guess I'm still one up.
[ He glances over towards knives, his expression carefully constructed but gentle. ]
...So, I was thinking about setting up along the coast over there.
[ He points with the fishing poles, a distant coastline near some older unused docks stretching out towards deeper waters. ]
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Suitable enough. [He says, with no fishing expertise whatsoever. A neutral remark for now, his gaze turning downward to focus on his own footing. He's not about to beef it when he's much unsteadier on his feet but just made fun of Vash for it.]
It seems you've been enjoying yourself, learning the ways of the old world.
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He subtly watches each place his brother plants his feet, almost like he's ready to jump and help if he sees reason to. It's a lot of downhill walking, at least for a little longer before they get to the plain and the beach to cross. ]
Yeah, I guess so. When in Rome, right? It's relatively peaceful here, most of the time.
[ He's grown quite fond of it, of the other Dreamers, and of many locals he's made friends with. ]
It's completely different from anything back home.
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A peaceful world is all I wanted for you.
[His voice is soft, avoiding Vash's gaze. He's not interested in rehashing any recent arguments about it, except to add--]
But this is still just a dream, Vash. And dreams are fleeting.
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His expression remains soft, if a little sad. His grip on the fishing poles tightens a little, and though he glances in Knives' direction briefly he's ALSO avoiding eye contact. He doesn't close his eyes because he's almost certain if he did he'd fall on his face but... the sigh that is breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth might as well illustrate him with a closed eyed expression. ]
I know. [ To which? Both? Probably. ] But it's all some people have, so it's real to them. Going home just means to die for some people. [ There's a pointed glance over in his brother's direction. ]
Dolph's found a whole new life here. Something for himself when he didn't have anything like that where he came from. So if it's real to him, then it's real to me.
[ He stops as they come to a slope that means either they're going to have to shimmy down slowly or slide down on their butts. He turns to look at Knives, and without much of a word he holds his arm out, crooked, to offer support. Or maybe to just work in tandem so they don't both take a tumble. ]
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It's less swallowing his pride, and more a spiteful act of jealousy, that has him take Vash's arm.]
Always letting them lead you astray. [Though maybe that's unfair to Dolph, so he amends:] Or perhaps you do it to yourself. Even he had the sense to name this place a cage.
[It's doubly bitter for him, when Vash had given such a grand display of wanting to remain at the side of the humans in their own world, now seeming to have abandoned that sentiment. Once again, he's proving himself the weak little brother, constantly pulled around by forces he doesn't understand, too soft-hearted to defend himself from it.]
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Dolph's way more practical than I am, but he still hears what I have to say. Maybe it's part of why we get along so well.
[ He's not so sure he agrees with calling it a cage, though he's understood why some might see it that way. Dolph's far from the only person who views this world that way. ]
We don't always see everything the same, and that's okay.
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If he has nothing else to live for, what alternative would a man have but to indulge such daydreams? In that sense, he has little choice but to listen to you.
[Few would make the choice Knives wishes to, he figures. Humans are too cowardly.]