[ he doesn't know a world like that. he's NEVER known a world like that. young as he is, compared to Vash the Stampede, the idea of grass and flowers were completely lost on him. it was novel, a dream--something that was so strange and alien to him that he can't help but to want to lie down in the field of evergreen blades as if it's the last place he'll be for the rest of his life.
it's so different from the rocky cliffs of Hopeland, the sandy desert that surrounded the steel-wrought buildings made out of old technology and crashed spaceships from a long forgotten age. And air that wasn't so much air but a very slow, long choking.
his own wish wasn't as sentimental or valuable as Vash's. It was simple, dirty--maybe even disgraceful. The want to go back and make sure Livio doesn't suffer the same way he suffered. To have been quicker to accept the stupid will of the Eye of Michael, if only to save the soft-eyed boy from a life where his freedom was stolen from him.
Wolfwood doesn't bother rolling over to face Vash when he feels the Humanoid Typhoon settle next to him. Staying rolled and curled in the grass with his arms tucked along the back of his neck, sunglasses obscuring his eyes as he responds to the blonde with a low tch in the back of his throat ]
Who knows. People who grow up with a silver goddamn spoon between their teeth don't know how to appreciate anything. They act like the most minor inconveniences are the end of the goddamn world.
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it's so different from the rocky cliffs of Hopeland, the sandy desert that surrounded the steel-wrought buildings made out of old technology and crashed spaceships from a long forgotten age. And air that wasn't so much air but a very slow, long choking.
his own wish wasn't as sentimental or valuable as Vash's. It was simple, dirty--maybe even disgraceful. The want to go back and make sure Livio doesn't suffer the same way he suffered. To have been quicker to accept the stupid will of the Eye of Michael, if only to save the soft-eyed boy from a life where his freedom was stolen from him.
Wolfwood doesn't bother rolling over to face Vash when he feels the Humanoid Typhoon settle next to him. Staying rolled and curled in the grass with his arms tucked along the back of his neck, sunglasses obscuring his eyes as he responds to the blonde with a low tch in the back of his throat ]
Who knows. People who grow up with a silver goddamn spoon between their teeth don't know how to appreciate anything. They act like the most minor inconveniences are the end of the goddamn world.
Pisses me off.
[ he needs a cigarette. ]