2017-05-14: Wherein Vash Attempts To Throw A Boulder At Helpless Children
- Log: Wherein Vash Attempts To Throw A Boulder At Helpless Children
- Cast: Gwen Whitlock, Vash the Stampede
- Where: Port Timney
- Date: 5/14/2017
- Summary: When the terrifying Vash the Stampede threatens the children of Port Timney after they liberate a bag of donuts from him, only Gwen Whitlock, super courier, with her superior swimming skills, stands in his way! Will Gwen trimuph and save the day? Will donuts be eaten? (Note: Some artistic license was used in the making of this summary.)
===============================<* Port Timney *>================================ Port Timney is the Kingdom of Adlehyde's premier port town. The city hugs the southern coast of the ranchlands and several trains terminate in Ardyne Grand Station at the northern part of the town. Cattle brought from the ranchlands tend to end up in the northern part of town, before their meat and hides are shipped as far as Krosse and Nortune. Timney has the look of an industrial city, without much of the simple style that Adlehyde's other cities are popular for. While it has few factories, it has many workshops and tanneries in the northern parts of town. Most of the people live in between the northern factories and southern docks, in apartment homes of varying quality. The markets are functional, meant to serve locals rather than sell the imports and exports making their way through the port. The docks, however, are something to behold: numerous large piers, fit for both wooden sailing ships and the newer ironclads, extend out onto the blue waters of the South Ignas Sea. BGM: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k9KZlk_t4Ww
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
So what does someone do after a massive, traumatic battle where life, sanity, friends, and everyone's well-being is put on the line, and bittersweet endings leave everyone uncertain of the future?
You fish.
Preferably, someplace where you can be safe just doing nothing but fishing, but not be so up in everyone's face that you swear off all human contact altogether. Thus, in a portion of cobbled road that it's safe to do so, there sits Gwen, underneath the protective shade of an ornamental tree, a fishing pole and bucket by her side, her naked toes barely resting against the surface of the cool water, her jeans rolled up to her ankles. A portion of her burn scar is exposed on her right leg, but for once, she really doesn't care. she's practically vegetating there, an occasional odd glance thrown her way because, well-
It wouldn't be fishing if she couldn't share it with her buddy. And that buddy is a horse.
And the cart is there too. There's plenty of areas to fish, and *she was here first*.
Gulliver snorts as he munches his feedbag. "No, I'm not feelin' sorry for myself."
Snort. "No, I ain't sleeping outside with you tonight. They arrest people who do that, y'know."
Snort. "I love ya too, Gulliver."
Gwen's stomach growls, but she bends back, looking upside down at yje grey horse. "I spent the last on that feed, buddy. You deserve it. Besides, you don't like fish."
In Gulliver speak, this probably was more just 'I love Persons, I love grass, I like butterflies, I like Persons.'
He is a simple horse, with simple needs. Like apples, and apple cores.
<Pose Tracker> Vash the Stampede has posed.
Port Timney. While the damage done to the port city wasn't as bad as it could have been, construction on the gate and the areas nearby it have been extensive and ongoing. Volunteer work has been accepted by those willing to pitch in to help the city get back on its feet -- it's a sense of camaraderie that offsets the somewhat worrisome note the increased presence of guards has struck in the city.
Occasionally, people talk about a strange man in a red coat working on gate construction with other volunteers, a coat he rather insistently wears even in the midst of the hard work. He doesn't ask for anything. He's pleasant, if a little eccentric. He works hard enough that the fact that he might hurt himself or wear himself out feels a very real concern. But he never complains. Never looks for compensation for his time. He just shows up, works, and occasionally, occasionally, visits the local bakery to reap the lone reward he only ever asks for--
"Whew! That sure was a hard day's work! Ha ha ha ha!"
This is Vash the Stampede's triumphant declaration as he steps out of his favorite bakery in Port Timney, a plain white paper bag in hand -- stuffed to the gills with certain, savory pastry perfection. He's practically beaming as he walks out, huffing a confident snort into the open air as he watches people pass by with a cheerful smile.
Not all good things are meant to last, though. And as Vash releases one arm to offer an overly-exuberant wave to some passerbies--
"Hellooooooooooooooooooooo--"
"Yoink!!"
"-- yoink!! Wait. Yoink??"
--a small group of children rush past, their leader snatching that bag from Vash's hands as they blitz off towards the southern end of the port. His eyes widen with horrific realization.
"Yoink!!"
The realization that his SOLE COMFORT in life has just been YOINKED.
"GET BACK HERE YOU LITTLE BASTARDS I'LL EAT YOU IF I DON'T GET MY FOOD BACK"
At least he reacts to it appropriately.
---
All this is, of course, is just to explain the sight that Gwen will doubtlessly see as she just tries to enjoy a peaceful, relaxing day of vegetative peace fishing.
"I EAT CHILDREN'S BONES FOR BREAKFAST!! WITH POACHED EGGS!!!! WAKKAWAKKAWAKKA"
The sight of Vash the Stampede chasing down a small group of terrified children, eyes blazing and mouth ajar like some kind of yellow, circular glutton monster, lips undulating unpleasantly as if to simulate the act of eating kid skeletons.
Oh, and all while brandishing a gigantic chunk of gate rubble between his hands.
"THERE'S NO HOPE FOR YOU NOW, GA HA HA HA HA--"
"JUST DROP IT DUDE, JUST GET RID OF IT, HE'S GOING TO EAT OUR BONES!!"
"A-argh--!! DAMMIIIIIIIIIIIIT--"
And this is how Gwen is introduced to a giant bag of donuts being tossed at her as the children rush by.
Right at her face.
Vash, practically crab-walking with inhumanly agile movement, comes to an abrupt stop as his prize is abandoned. Instantly, that terrifying guise drops, and he heaves a sigh, large chunk of stone still held aloft in his hands.
"There. Now maybe they learned a valuable lesson."
Five seconds pass in stark silence before Vash actually looks in the bag's direction. And sees--
"Gwen--?"
...
...
...
Vash awkwardly detaches a hand to wave.
"Hiiiiiiii--"
Before remembering he's carrying what amounts to a boulder.
And as if reality were suddenly recognizing the fact that this shouldn't rightly be possible, the blonde man teeters. Totters.
"Uh oh OH NO NO NO--"
And goes toppling over with the weight of the rubble -- right into the waters below.
"WHY DIDN'T I LET GO I HAD SO MUCH TIME TO--"
SPLASH
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
Just a lazy, spring day. No fish are biting. Yet. This may not cure Malevolence poisoning or whatever, but Gwen's certain she'll stumble across something, if she gets the urge to move.
And so, she lays there, about to fall asleep, when she sees an odd sight, made even more odd by the fact that she's seeing it upside down. "... mm?"
Oh, it's just Mr. Balderdash. Mysterious Man X. That Guy. She raises halfway, squinting.
And then, as if the universe decided that wasn't enough inspiration to make her move, there's now a giant bag of donuts that has applied itself to her face. "... mph."
As the bag falls to the ground underneath her face with an audible 'thump', Gwen's eyes direct themselves up to the much closer Vash. "Balderfast." She blinks. He's carrying a giant boulder.
She blinks again, as if wondering if the first blink registered with reality incorrectly. Ah no, it's still there. And now it's gone, gravity harshly calling to its heavier subject, with Vash along for the ride. *SPLASH* ".... ah."
The bag of donuts is set aside. She stands up. "... hookay." WIthout a thought, the courier, of course, jumps in, in order to bravely rescue her poor gravity-laden buddy.
And it's only when she jumps in that she remembers a key factor. A key skill, if you will, that Gwen never learned, having lived much of her formative life in a land where water came at a premium.
She never properly learned to swim, much less with her ARM.
*SPLASH*
"ARGHABLARGH-!!'
And so Vash's brave heroine thrashes in the water, until her right hand manages to land a grip right on the edge of where she jumped from. "Uh- hold on, I'll save you, Baldurlash! I just-"
She just needs to learn how to properly swim first. "Grab onto my arm, or, uh, leg!"
This is the worst water rescue ever
Meanwhile, Gulliver looks at the bag of donuts, but, sadly, he cannot partake in them. Feedbag, and all. Sometimes, life is tough for a horse.
<Pose Tracker> Vash the Stampede has posed.
The good news:
Vash did the smart thing and let go of the rubble. Way to go Vash!
The bad news:
Vash's insanity has inspired a girl who doesn't know how to swim to dive headfirst into the water. Boo Vash!
All this to say, suddenly there are two people flailing helplessly in the churning water. 'ARGHABLARGH-!!' sputters Gwen.
"I TOLD YOU MY NAME WAS MISTER GARGHLEBARGLE-!!"
shouts Vash back, in a way unclear if he's actually claiming that as a name or just interrupted by swallowing an unpleasant mouthful of salt and water.
Maybe both.
Regardless, even as Gwen insists on saving Vash (while struggling to even stay afloat) Vash obligingly does what she asks: one of those flailing noodles of arms takes a grip onto Gwen's forearm as she struggles. In al the panic and the shouting ("OH GOD SALT WATER IS MAKING ME SO THIRSTY I THINK I'LL JUST HAVE SOME MORE SALT WATER" and so on) it's hard to say, exactly, what happens. There's a strong grip on Gwen's arm as the waves churn and thrash around them; it guides her up until she can find a grip onto the pier; and then, if she's so inclined to pull, Vash the Stampede will follow after her, as if they were both pulling each other out of the waves until they spill out wetly onto cobblestone.
In the aftermath, Vash is just sort of... sprawled out, the Mysterious Blondie X spitting up water and staring blankly at the skies above him.
"I saw my whole life flash before my eyes..." he grumbles, clearly shocked. "... so many donuts uneaten... so many children unterrorized... so many romances unromanced...!!"
Probably shock. Hopefully shock.
With a soggy slap, Vash sits right back up moments later, eyes sparkling.
"Oh, Gwen! You've saved my life! Again!! You really are my guardian--"
angel? no that won't work--
"uh-- courier--?"
Guardian courier.
...
"... hey, where'd my rubble go--?"
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
It seemed like a good idea at the time. The heroic Gwen Whitlock, coming to the rescue of occasional horse kidnapper (he let Gulliver go), child terrorizer (they stole his donuts), and food stealer (Gwen nearly killed(?) him), MISTER GARGHLEBARGLE.
Which is why there are two fools thrashing in the water, as Mr. Boulder continues downward on its grand shallow sea adventure. To Gwen's credit, when her hand manages to find that pier, she's pulling with all her might, even trying to guide Vash's hand (or wait, when did that hand get there already?) and intent on helping haul the much taller (and probably heavier) man out, even as he seems to be doing the same for her.
And that's where she sprawls, dazed. Her fishing pole still hasn't budged.
The Mockingbird ESR is a fantastic piece of machinery, monitoring, stabilizing, and intervening in the day-to-day struggles of a weak heart, strengthening it to extraordinary degrees. However, this feat is only amazing in the proper context- of Gwen herself, going from weak sickly child to decently athletic normal person with an extra strong Metal Arm. And her heart, no matter how well it beats, will always be at the mercy of its rival and BFF, lungs.
This is why, when she finally speaks, instead of seeming bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as Vash, she sounds.... like a person who thrashed in the water and pulled themselves out. "Wahhdif yew drowned?" Gwen says to Vash as he raises, raising herself, but only because she's using the MYSTERIOUS X MAN as a post to guide her upwards to a sitting position. "First yew steal Gulliver, get yerself nerly killed by sum'on who couldaben Vash th' Stampheed, b'he prob'ly wazzn't, you nearly drawned..." Two hands seize on either side of Vash's shoulders, but all Gwen can manage is a slow, gentle rocking back and forth, as if Vash was a grand apple tree.
After a few moments, she just slumps there, wedging her face on one of his shoulders. "I'm gunna... needta... catch... breath..."
Donuts. Angels. Angel donuts. Angel couriers? Angel couriers. Oh yeah. "Your donuts," Gwen starts, assuming those donuts were really Vash's, and not something he managed to accidentally steal from someone who is currently looking for them, "Are over..." Her hand raises, then loosely gestures to where the bag lies, valiantly guarded by the steadfast Gulliver, ever watchful. He is also trying to sniff at it through the feedbag. He is failing.
"... Glad yer okay." It'd almost seem like she's being sarcastic, but she's smiling, at least. "You owe me a donut." She's squinting at him, though with her head on his shoulder like a tree falling against the support of a stone wall, her face is just squinting at Gulliver, instead. "We'll find some rubble. Gimmea donut."
<Pose Tracker> Vash the Stampede has posed.
Indeed, despite Vash's initial, overdramatic wheezing and coughing, the blonde young (?) man seems largely... alright(?). Chipper. In tip top shape. Rising with a sluggishness that's only offset by the alertness in his sky blue eyes, the man takes a brief, concerned look Gwen's way -- that stare far keener than its usual foolishness, as if quietly taking stock of the young woman as she struggles to drag herself back up. He smiles a faint, gentle thing as she asks that question, but by the time her attention is on him, well--
"There's no need to worry about that! Mammals are natural amphibians! Just look at the wily dolphin!" That is absolutely not how dolphins or people work--
"So you don't have to fret! I would have just used my sonar to find my way back to the surface!!"
no Vash no
But she continues onward, and Vash blinks helplessly through all the accusations, his hands flinging up into the air with the splatter of thick globs of salt water as he attempts to fend off those declarations one by one. It goes something like this:
"I didn't steal him we made a pact, formed through the glorious bonds of holy fruit--
"WHAT Vash the Stampheeb was where oh my god am I gonna die is he gonna track me down and kill me--
"Wait he WASN'T there oh THANK GOD I'M SAVED--
"Who drawed what now??"
Yep. Like that. It went like that.
But eventually, the forceful swaying of the mysterious blonde man stops, as if he were a tree wracked by dying hurricane winds. He blinks, feeling her slump against him... and with her face hidden away against his shoulder, those blonde brows soften, just a bit. He doesn't say a word. He just lifts one gloved hand, and quietly pats Gwen on top of that red mane of hair in a silent but supportive gesture, remaining a steadfast pillar for her for as long as she needs. His donuts are over there, she says.
"Oh phew," he declares with a relieved sigh,
"I was afraid I was gonna have to eat some kids. Crisis averted! Ha ha ha!"
... He's joking.
Surely he must be joking--??
Still, eventually, when she looks up at him, the simple country fool (?) blinks mid-laugh, pausing in rubbing the back of his head. He tilts said noggin at her declarations. "Of course! No water can defeat me! I'm 75% water! It's my kindred!!" he declares boldly, nostrils flaring, until she's suddenly squinting, and making that fact known: he owes her a donut. "Erk." He freezes, mid boisterous rancor, and coughs. Clears his throat. Mumbles something indistinct.
"... okayfine," he holds up a hand, "you can have -one- donut."
And presents five fingers.
And then the other five on the other hand.
"-One-."
Mixed messages.
Just a bit.
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
Thankfully for Vash, what seems to plague Gwen is nothing that can't be resolved by simply regaining her breath, which she does. It just takes a bit longer because she's insisting on handing Vash a small list of minor crimes he's committed with each breath. But soon enough, her heart rate slows, her breath follows suit, and she's content to push away from Vash, wiping a wet hand against her hairline in a vain attempt to coax it into a more cohesive style other than 'wet rat'.
And now, she's the one looking at Vash, peering critically for any sign of injury. Or the telltale sign of Malevolence infestation. Then, seeming satisfied with her expert medical checkover of Vash's condition, she settles back into a slouch, still dripping on the pavement. Finally, she begins to giggle, even managing a snort.
Well, if Vash has any Malevolence on him, it'd be burned away just by his natural state. "Sorry, just been a lonnngg week. Or two. Or three. Or-" She lazily waves a hand. "And when I couldn't see you around, I got worried! I mean, yeah, you formed a pact or something with my horse-" wait, does that mean her horse is a seraph, how does this even work "so I was kinda pissed, but I was just as pissed that you came in like a big damn hero, right as I was goin' around-" She stops in mid-sentence and mid finger wag.
-like a big damn hero. Only, he kinda did a better job of it, near the end. From what she could see, between fending off being stabbed by an old childhood acquaintance and all.
For a moment, when he talks about EATING CHILDREN, Gwen wonders if the man really *could* do that. Instead, she reaches over, extends a hand, and removes the bag of donuts from Gulliver's protective field. Looking inside the bag and mentally assessing how many donuts are there from sight alone, the redhead nods to herself. Ah, good. Then, tugging off a soggy leather glove off her left hand (a process that takes quite a bit longer since it's tightly molded to her hand right now), she sticks her hand in and scoops out-
-five donuts. And she even takes a bite of one.
"-fhOne," she says, saying the word around a mouthful of donut. She swallows. Her eyes light up, and she examines the donut she just munched on, tilting it back and forth. "... Oh man. These are *good*. Or maybe I'm just really, really hungry. Here." She presents the bag to Vash with her other hand, swing it slightly, but not out of reach. "You're lucky~ If I hadn't caught it, it would have gone into the water." She caught it with her face, yes, but that's beside the point. "... I wonder if that whole sweet and sour deal would work on donuts?" she muses aloud, before taking another bite. "Chocolate and sea salt, maybe! Or spicy donuts."
She pauses, stopping her idle talk from straying too far from the point. "You know, uh, next time. I'd be fine if you needed Gulliver for somethin'. You just gotta... uh... ask..." Not like he really *could*. "And if you put yourself in danger again, I'll whap you upside the head! Well, er, danger that you can't... help." She itches her head. "I guess you kinda attract it, so you can't help it? And you're really good at getting out of it?" The confused tone in her voice passes. "But really! You're my friend now, so that means you can't be dyin' on me! Your ghost'll haunt me, and it'll be *really* bad for business. If someone's got the ability to see ghosts. Because that's a thing right now, I think."
The finger she's pointing at Vash has a donut on it. It doesn't really make her point any more coherent.
<Pose Tracker> Vash the Stampede has posed.
Well -- at the very least she seems to recover quickly. That seems to be of no small relief to Vash, even if the sentiment only barely makes itself known in the quiet twinkle of his eyes. She peers at him seconds later, and he blinks, going cross-eyed as if to try to look at himself with an equally critical eye.
"Wh-what? Do I have something on my face? A squid? A barnacle?? An amoeba??" No Vash. Not that it stops him from panicking, head tilting at an irregular angle as he tries to shake the invisible sea creature free. "AAH! BACK TO THE ABYSS WITH YOU!!"
And then she giggles. And then she snorts. And though he blinks in perfect confusion... Vash still manages a faint smile shortly after, even if it never quite reaches that blue gaze of his.
A long week. Or two. Or three. "Sounds like you could use a vacation! Like, to a hot spring, or something, or..." What's a hot spring? "... some kinda festival thing or something, or... water... beach... huh?" He looks up in confusion at her as she talks about being worried, and pissed, and pissedworried. "Oh, uh. Sorry! I had a great calling I had to answer--" The Saucery Globe is a great calling, shut up-- "and I triumped, triumphantly--" he didn't, shut up-- "and now here I am!!" She brings up the incident at Descartes base, though, and Vash pauses. His hand lifts to rub at the back of his head.
"Yeah, I was pretty incredible there, wasn't I?? I was all 'WA-CHA! HUAH! RUN, VILE FIENDS!!' and they scattered to the winds, in mortal terror! GA HA HA HA HA!!"
That is all fabrication.
Who could ever be frightened of this man??
Especially when his soul seems to shatter at the sight of Gwen, gathering five -- not one!! -- donut from that bag. "E-erk. That's not one, that's five ones!! That's -- what a devious loophole!!" And yet, aside from gripping his chest in terror, he doesn't try to stop her -- he just goes to pluck a donut from the bag as well, fumbling tragically as she sways it away before snatching one with LIGHTNING DONUT-HUNGRY SPEED and just STUFFING THE WHOLE DAMN THING IN HIS MOUTH. There. -Victory-.
"Dehr reahhee guhd ryhhe??" he muffles around his mouthful of pastry. "Yuh sayyhbd muh lyihf in muh dehn wuhn weh!!" he agrees amiably, in full-mouthese, before he swallows down that whole thing, and blinks. "Spicy donuts... hmmmmm..........."
Gwen has just sent a madman down a dark and dangerous path.
Still -- when she diverts back onto the main subject, the blonde man scratches the side of his head, brows furrowed. "Telling beforehand kinda ruins the dramatic reveal though..." he muses, before frowning deeply. "Fffiiiiiiiiine, I won't steal--" wait no-- "form a perfectly legitimate pact with Gulliver again without your approval! And I won't put myself in danger again! Ever! I'll be like teflon!!" --wait what's teflon--
He's in the middle of nodding vigorously, when she calls him friend.
Friend.
He blinks. Looks at her for a quiet moment, and something inscrutable passes in his gaze, something between touched and... sad. A faint glimmer, just barely in the fringes of that stare.
... before his arms start to waggle like noodles, his eyes go wide, and his lips purse like a duck.
... as he does his best ghost imitation he can.
"OooooOOOOoooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooo spooookkkyyyyyyyy i'm already a ghooooOOOOOooooOOOOoooossst~!!"
It looks kind of like this:
(~°o°)~-~-~-
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
"Nonono, you're fine!" As if to downplay her examination, she reaches out and pats him on the head. Patpat. "You passed my health check! Everything's a-okay! No shallow sea monsters! That I can see, anyway." Gwen you are not a doctor or a biologist
As Vash seems to downplay his own accomplishments(?) by a very masterful application of bragging about what didn't happen(?), Gwen squints at him, her nose wrinkling with the effort. "I take it all back. I was the amazing one there. Why, I survived a battle with the infamous Janus Cascade!" Who is actually still sort of small fry and sort of someone she knew from her childhood, but none of that helped her from having to defend her precious, precious gut meats from Janus and that huge stabby bayonet of his. "I mean, it was a tough face-off!"
Taking another bite of her donut, Gwen states, "Nohw, ifw-" She pauses her thought right there so she doesn't just tumble after Vash into the Land of Bad Manners, chewing and swallowing her piece of donut properly. "Now, I wouldn't be adverse t'you babysittin' Gulliver from time to time, since he seems to like you." gwen is trusting this man to take care of a precious living being, this is not a good idea "There's been times where finding a place for Gulliver to stay is way too expen- er, too hard to find."
Tough lawn? Is that what Vash said? Gwen is considering this when she catches that strange, almost bittersweet look in Vash's eyes. The Drifter is silent. It's moments like these where Gwen has trouble really buying the complete image Vash has been trying to exhibit. It's good enough that she gets caught up in the flow of it, but those curious glimpses into something else makes her wonder.
It makes her not ask any questions, something that can be dangerous.
It also makes her just decide to make up names for him.
"Alright, alright, I get it!" Gwen lets out a sigh and places a hand over her head. "I'll be like a tough lawn too, or whatever it is. Can't promise to not put myself in danger, since that's kinda a part of my courier deal, but! I'll be tough. If I'm askin' you to not die, I should at least return the favor n' all." She frowns. "... even if I wasn't plannin' on dyin' anytime soon."
Standing up and gracelessly making her way to the cart in a manner akin to a sopping wet cat, Gwen takes out two brightly colored woven blankets, throwing one for Vash to catch.
Which, most likely, just drapes on him to look like the most brightly colored ghost ever.
<Pose Tracker> Vash the Stampede has posed.
"Whoa! The infamous Whonus Whatcade!?"
Vash the Stampede looks positively stunned about this bold declaration from Gwen. Several seconds of silence pass.
"... Wait, what's a Hownus Whycade?"
Well. At least he still -looks- legitimately impressed. Just... confused, kind of.
Which probably leads to the dejected sag of his shoulders moments later, head hanging low. "Okay, okay. Fine! You're cooler than me! For now, at least. Just wait. My next stunt with Gulliver will be even more magnificent...!"
Vash freezes, one fist raised defiantly to heaven above.
Seconds pass in stark silence.
"... I-I mean, with some horse I meet entirely at random, h-hahaha-a-haahahaaaa! .... haaaaaaaaaaaaa?"
Still, Vash looks (suspiciously) most-pleased by Gwen's offer. Nodding along happily, Vash crosses his arms, nostrils flaring and eyes squeezing shut. "Mmhm! Mmhm! It's hard to find a horse whisperer-sitter of my calibre, that's for sure! Everyone else is too expenhard to find!"
And it speaks volumes that he just goes along with this without even rewinding to reconsider those stumbled words. Just nodding. With overflowing confidence. Completely unearned.
It's a look that contrasts sharply with that brief, bittersweet stare in those half-seconds when the facade drops. But Gwen does not call attention to it, and neither does Vash, looking beamingly triumphant as she finally relents. "Good! Know the tough lawn! Become the tough lawn! The tough lawn will... wait, are you saying tough lawn...? I said teh flan!!" ... "No, wait -- ... what -did- I say... ...?"
And he will be considering this for as long as it takes for that vibrant blanket to suddenly encase him like a net, making an impromptu blanket fort out of the spikey-haired head of hair that has become its post. "AGH! I'M BLIND!" he screeches. And yet... his struggling is short-lived. Eventually, it dies down. And within the drying warmth of that blanket, Vash stares at the ground beneath him, gaze distant and full of a remorse hard to quantify -- the sight of someone who knows trouble long enough to sense it on the horizon.
"Gwen..." he begins, lost inside that volume of fabric. Silence reigns in his hesitation, before he offers, simply but sincerely:
"... thanks."