OoC: Yeh. Apparently, we get out early, but then go back really early. x3
Naghagh. It's short, but I can't think of much more.

The Plant stopped in his tracks, resisting Ces' pulling like a silently upset child. Even without seeing it, Vash could tell she seemed agitated, most likely by him. Her tug had taken a rough turn from the constant, gentle guiding it had been, and the lack of response seemed off as well. The Tardis and whatever 'frozen' foods it offered could wait.

"You're mad at me," Vash practically mumbled, face downturned as though he were in trouble, "aren't you?" That ever-constant note of optimism was now replaced by simple sadness, and even as his gla-sses slipped forward and fell to the ground, he paid them no attention. "You.. don't have to do this.. if you don't want to."

OoC: Oi. My computer is really aggravating sometimes. |c That's the second time I've lost this posteh; it keeps turning itself off while I'm at school. Well. Yet again..
xD We need to get them to the Tardis or something. But then, we'd need a Nias for that, and she seems a bit out of idears too.
Naghagh. Third time writing this. And it seems to be a lot different than the first two times I started. o3o

Though he hardly felt that Ces had pushed his gla-sses into his hand (it was his fake one, after all), Vash held loosely onto them nonetheless, letting them dangle from his fingertips. "So it's the Spectre?" he repeated, more a rhetorical question than anything. Perfectly understandable, actually. He did have a certain connection with all the other Plants (and especially Knives, even when he tried to block his brother out), able to feel their presences at all times no matter the distance between, but sharing a body with another was imaginably quite a different sort of bond. Comparing the two was like comparing a busy bar to a cramped closet.

And while Vash had only known her for a rather short time over the course of a day or so, the Spectre had seemed fiery enough that she could get a bit agitated, stuck in a body that wasn't her own. Of course. He'd judged far too quickly; as she'd said, Ces wouldn't just get mad at him.

"Ah.. sorry," he said, with a small apologetic smile.

OoC: Nehh. Good enough. Have to go. D:

OoC: Like, using pictures that weren't theirs for their characters? Sadly, it seems to be somewhat rare not to see that.
xDD Yer killin' me, Wolfeh.
But. No wai. He needs his cutlery moar than they need their buttonz. o3o Use zippers, you fools!

OoC: Spiffeh. :o This ma-ss death thing is like. The biggest rush Res has ever seen, I think. xD People were actually offering to pay into the millions for people's unused hatches, last night. I almost think I should have sold one too, considering I only really, really wanted Knives.
Hmm. I think there may actually have been a Howl still alive, anyway. o: I recall seeing someone all ':D *bought Howl*' a while ago. Or at least, I think I do.
Holy cheese, that's mean. Mean but brilliant. o3o That entire town's going to be freaking out when all its children from the surviving men start having pink hair. xD Hogawd. Gunsmoke's just gotten the spark of an unstoppable plague.

Vash followed Ces' guidance through the Tardis silently, only able to actually tell where they were by the cooler temperature and distinct sound of everyone's clanking footsteps. His own boots were particularly loud - the metal in their soles made a sort of scrape, clunk with every dragging step. The Plant almost wondered why he felt so exhausted, even with all the past days' excitement. He'd made his way across entire deserts before and, albeit with quite a bit of whining directed at the suns or the sky or even the occasional lizard or wild toma, had made it just fine. So why now?

But, upon being distracted from such thoughts by Ces, he gave a bit of a nod and dropped onto the seat beside her. For quite a time, Vash remained fully upright, tense almost, looking toward and listening to the persistent kitchen noises, still as the broken clock he was. Somehow he still felt a quiet unease, a creeping feeling that this wasn't quite the time for rest. Even as, at length, the Plant attempted to let himself melt back into the seat, that unease only grew into dread, and he could have sworn he heard a drawn-out thundercrack of terror in his head.

Yet all remained silent in the Tardis, but for the distant kitchen rummagings caused by a starving Fera. All was fine. That brief despair had brought the gunman to nearly leap from the chair, and he was now aware of his own heavy breathing, tinged with an undertone of raggedness, just like everything else about him had grown to be. He even felt a very stubby little feather, black as the desert night, poking from the back of his neck. It was like awakening from a nightmare.

"H-hey Ces," Vash murmured, staring blankly ahead. "I think something's wrong.. again."