.OPEN POST.

[nickotine]

.meme continuations.
.gen & nsfw-friendly.
.nsfw very appreciated, tbh.
.feel free to plot something with me if you want @ creatura.

Comments

@dontdeserve;

[nickotine]

( from here. )

( he can handle your broody; he'll either knock it out of you with a thump to your forehead or act in entire opposition to his character to snap you out of it. it might not have happened yet, but narration is sure it will sooner rather than later.

sure did open yourself up for suspicion with that comment, tongari. and it's easy enough to hear anything from anyone these days, but since it's this guy we're talking about here. )

heard that, did you?
that is pretty interesting
where'd you hear it?

[dontdeserve]

[ honestly, that's absolutely going to be either good for him ... or end up with more bottling down. but probably the former.

and listen. he's an old man. but good distraction from wolfwood's broodiness maybe? also the scent of coffee probably reaches him already. ]

ahaha when i was very young, really.

[nickotine]

( you bottle things up more than you already have, blondie, and you're gonna explode one of these days. nobody wants to see that, yeah?

good distraction yes, because now he has something to focus on, but good methods of deflection ... decidedly no. and he can smell the coffee, but he's gonna wait until vash thinks to let himself in ( unlikely ) or there's a too-quiet knock on the other side of his door ( very likely ). )

didn't say when, blondie
but it's no big deal
think you end up hearing more weird shit than the rest of us

[dontdeserve]

[ ... of course there will be a knock, once he is ready with the coffee and donuts on a tray, all set up to hopefully cheer wolfwood up? but, honestly, the only times he lets himself through doors without announcing it is when he is leaving, not coming in. ]

oh, true. i guess for me one answers the other also. when i was very young i was on a spaceship, and then another.

[ think luida and brad, wolfwood. they would remember things like that.

which is to say, that last statement isn't even a little bit wrong. ]

you'll never understand ( how beautiful you really are );

[nickotine]

They don't get very many moments like this, when their shared space is just theirs without anything else in the way, Vash warm and soft and sweet and pliant in his lap. His own personal miniature sun, a light so bright that he doesn't pause to think for a moment how dark the shadows behind him must be, because it doesn't matter. Not when Vash smiles at him, not when he kisses him like he's something to be treasured instead of something better left behind and scavenged.

It makes his heart break for what still lies ahead in their future, in his future, but like this he can pretend. Pretend that he's the good guy the other thinks he is, and not working for the other side.

He sighs into another kiss, though it's really more of a rumble than anything else, one hand threading long fingers through messy blond hair while the other traces circles over the rise of a hipbone beneath the hem of his shirt. When he pulls back, there's a soft look of awe etched clear into every line of his expression as there always is when he looks at him directly. It doesn't hurt to stare into the sun, much as everyone likes to think it does. Not this one.

"You're too pretty for your own damn good, you know that?"

[angelarm]

Vash has one leg on either side of Nicholas's. He still has his clothes on because it's hard to coax him out of them at the best of times, not only because he's self-conscious but because it's dangerous. They might have to run at any moment; that's the kind of life he has to lead. It's the kind of life Nicholas leads too, he knows, though they don't speak of it in such terms.

If Vash knows where this road ends, of course he doesn't speak about that either. Vash is always lying to himself about something, and what's one more thing to pretend he doesn't see the signs of, especially when Nicholas looks at him not like something to be feared or hated or killed, but something…worthwhile. Someone worthwhile. It's been ages since he had that.

Well, there's Nai, but we don't talk about that here. Nai is complicated, and it's been years since he's seen his brother anyway, longer than Nicholas has even been alive.

Vash blushes easily anyway, but how can he not with words like that directed at him? His gaze slides away, embarrassed. He can't take a compliment, even from this close. His metal fingers play at the edge of Nicholas's jacket, seeking a distraction. This is too much focus on him!

"Nicholas, shh," he says, leaning in to cover the other man's mouth with his. If he sticks his tongue in Nicholas's mouth, then he doesn't have to hear words like that.

It isn't that he doesn't like them. He just…doesn't know what to do with them, where to put that sort of thing.

[nickotine]

He knows how dangerous it can be, any level of intimacy at any given time should they have to pick up and clear out without a fraction of a moment's notice — and he's reticent to even admit how much he wants the feel of Vash's skin against his own, because he'll be damned if he thinks he actually deserves something so simple, even if he can be a greedy son of a bitch when it comes to him.

( Sometimes, just having him close like this is enough, and he can pretend he doesn't want more nearly all the time. Vash's presence alone is an intoxicating sort of thing, an addiction in its own right, and at least that isn't something that might end up killing him.

Ah … but are you sure about that? )

He looks at him like he doesn't because he really, really doesn't think he's ever seen something, someone so fucking beautiful in the whole off his life, the sort of thing he shouldn't be able to touch in the first place because he breaks everything he touches, but Vash has always accepted him just as he, in turn, has accepted Vash for everything he is, and if that means he has to drill into that spiky head of his that he is worthwhile, well. He doesn't have a problem with that in the slightest.

He noses at the edge of his jaw as those fingers toy with his jacket, and he shifts just as much as he needs to shrug it off of his shoulders and let the fabric pool about his hips, chuckling into the kiss and letting his teeth catch on the tip of the other's tongue once it slides into his mouth, sharp but playful, everything he's never been with much of anyone else.

( Hell, who is he kidding? He's never been exactly like this with anyone. )

Both of his own hands slip beneath the hem of Vash's top layer to smooth over his sides, fingers digging into the dip of his slender ( fucking tiny ) waist. "What? M'allowed to have an opinion, aren't I?"

@assassinsgreed ( welcome to the pack );

[nickotine]

( there aren't very many days in which they find themselves twiddling their thumbs; their resident overload — master knives, as conrad keeps reminding them — always has something for them to do, somewhere for them to go. do whatever needs doing and don't ask any questions, never ask any questions, because that ain't exactly conducive to a good time, is it?

that last bit had been something that bluesummers guy had said … something he's really, really fond of saying on the off-chance anyone looks like they're thinking of stepping out of line, and nicholas had done it once, yeah. he'd tried to cut and run and ended up right back where he started. with a few more broken bones than he'd started off with, but they'd healed all right, so he doesn't think about it. too much.

doesn't do him any good one way or another, anyway.

but having time to twiddle his thumbs ( and chainsmoke ) means that he has a chance to really take in their newest recruit; he hasn't said much since they first brought him in, but nicholas has always been on the quiet side himself, preferring to observe instead of engage. you learn more that way, yeah? you pick up on all the little nuances you might miss when someone is talking and you're paying attention to their words instead of how their eyes move. if their nostrils flare. if they talk with their hands.

tells, all of them. he wonders if this guy has any. so far, the only thing he knows is his name, and it's something weird-sounding. toby — no, that ain't right — toji. fushiguro. like nothing he's ever heard in the whole of gunsmoke, but what can he say, because he hasn't been all the way around this damned desert planet, so there might be a whole host of weird names he hasn't heard of.

he leaves the cross punisher to lean against a far wall, where he can keep it in his periphery as he strolls in long-legged strides over to the other man, taking a drag on his cigarette and holding the smoke in his lungs for a second, then another, before letting it go. )

Hey there Tall, Dark and Silent. What d'ya think of the place so far?

[assassinsgreed]

<sub>[ Toji's life is a little funny, but never one did he ever mean to end up in a cult. Not once. His life was different than most of the pawns here who had been recruited by force. For Toji, he was a little desperate and doing assassin work solo could only get so boring. It was time to spice things up a bit, and thus.. happily join a cult without question. Did he care for what the Eye of Michael stood for? Not really. In fact, he didn't even really know. All he knows is word got around on this planet that he was an impressive killer, trained to use weapons that were long since outdated.. and using them well. When picked up and offered compensation and the promise he wouldn't be experimented on (for now), he asked if he'd at least get three meals per day. That's what sealed the deal for him.

Toji, much like Wolfwood, is definitely more of an observer, having a keen eye as well. Observing and studying his prey was part of the process, after all. Toji sometimes let his assassin habits slip into trying to ave a casual conversation over coffee. It really made things awkward when he tried to be a normal guy having a normal person interaction. Though, he doesn't outright ignore people when they talk to them, so Nick gets a proper response, the edges up of lips tweaking upwards in a half smile. ]</sub>

It keeps me fed. The scenery is nice.

_{[ He means everyone else who is here. They're all pretty hot. ]}

Why? Should I have complaints?

[nickotine]

( at least toji had willingly come to find himself here; there's a whole hell of a lot of resentment threaded through this grown-up body, more than he thought he'd ever be able to hold onto and remain in control of, but it sort of comes with the territory, if he thinks about it for longer than a handful of seconds. he has to bide his time if he's going to get as much out of this as he wants to, and if he expects the promise of no harm coming to anyone at hopeland remaining true as long as he minds his ps and qs.

he's always been the sort to march to the beat of his own drum, but extenuating circumstances have a habit of ganging up on him, don't they? of making him behave when he would otherwise prefer not to.

wolfwood isn't exactly in the habit of making idle conversation when he doesn't have to — it's not one of his strong suits, to be sure — but there's … something about toji that draws him in, snags his interest without really trying, and that sort of thing in and of itself is worth investigating, isn't it?

he snorts at what he gets in response first because he doesn't think so much of the scenery himself, but that might just mean he has higher standards. ( read: he's picky, or just a part of the percentage that has better standards than one ( 1 ) toji fishuguro. )

he shrugs, takes another drag from his cigarette and flicks the ash at the end with a gentle tap of long fingers. ) Nah, unless it's about the food in particular. Some days it's good, some days I wouldn't feed it to a worm as a last meal. ( is he being cheeky on purpose?

probably. but you like that, don't you? ) Your name's Toby, ain't it? ( heaven help him, he thinks he's being funny. just look at that shit-eating grin. )