[ Vash is hardly an inconspicuous figure among those littering the underground chamber and its conjoining tunnels for the bright red of his coat - newly reclaimed - and telltale blond hair. picking him out of a crowd isn't difficult on a bad day, and it's no surprise that today is a bad day.
still, regardless of how it sits a little tired around the edges, Vash's smile seems like it's never left his face and even brightens a bit more earnestly as he's drawn from his thoughts by a voice he recognizes, a presence that is comfortable for its hints of familiarity and a level of trust. sure, he and 'Melshi' aren't exactly old war buddies; they haven't known one another long - but Vash has called men friends who came and went from his life in less time than he's spent with a certain rugged lady-charmer.
more importantly, he believes Melshi is a Good Guy where it counts. Vash even has a pretty sizable stack of evidence to back up these claims, too; it isn't based on some idealistic, optimistic 'wants to believe in everyone' mentality some might accuse him of harboring.
thus, it takes no convincing at all to see him seated as if obeying subconsciously, not requiring much in the way of objective thought to adhere to the request. eyes alight with acuity have taken in his friend's condition as best he's able with subtlety, trying to discern how much the past few days have worn on him. Vash can't say he likes the answer. ]
What, you smuggle something half-decent to drink and you're gonna share with little ol' me? Melshi, I'm flattered, you really shouldn't have...
[ the joke's delivery is missing a bit of it's oomph. he is no more immune than anyone else is where the Zenith tries to dig its claws into his insides, uprooting things he's since learned he couldn't bury.
he's doing okay for the circumstances, yeah? yeah. ]
✨❤️
still, regardless of how it sits a little tired around the edges, Vash's smile seems like it's never left his face and even brightens a bit more earnestly as he's drawn from his thoughts by a voice he recognizes, a presence that is comfortable for its hints of familiarity and a level of trust. sure, he and 'Melshi' aren't exactly old war buddies; they haven't known one another long - but Vash has called men friends who came and went from his life in less time than he's spent with a certain rugged lady-charmer.
more importantly, he believes Melshi is a Good Guy where it counts. Vash even has a pretty sizable stack of evidence to back up these claims, too; it isn't based on some idealistic, optimistic 'wants to believe in everyone' mentality some might accuse him of harboring.
thus, it takes no convincing at all to see him seated as if obeying subconsciously, not requiring much in the way of objective thought to adhere to the request. eyes alight with acuity have taken in his friend's condition as best he's able with subtlety, trying to discern how much the past few days have worn on him. Vash can't say he likes the answer. ]
What, you smuggle something half-decent to drink and you're gonna share with little ol' me? Melshi, I'm flattered, you really shouldn't have...
[ the joke's delivery is missing a bit of it's oomph. he is no more immune than anyone else is where the Zenith tries to dig its claws into his insides, uprooting things he's since learned he couldn't bury.
he's doing okay for the circumstances, yeah? yeah. ]