inbox (duocaeli)

[chlorokyll]

DUONET ID: XxMillionsKnivesxX

"You know what to do."

✉️ ☎️ 📷

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OFFLINE WORLD, LIBRARY

[verselet]

[He’s always found solace in the pages of a book and in the solitude required to enjoy one undisturbed. So naturally, V gravitates towards the library, finding himself surrounded by tall shelves stuffed to the brim with them. All their spines, lined up neatly in a row — titles that he cannot hope to recognize, but maybe a few he could.

In this “offline” world, his usual leather garb has been replaced with a more casual affair, but he still possesses his cane. (Thankfully.) It clicks, clicks faintly against the flooring as he crosses to the nearest bookshelf.

…Along the way, though, it’s hard not to miss another individual seated nearby. He has his book in hand, V’s noticed, but one that is being so unduly neglected. After all, he can tell: this is the look of a man who’s about to fall asleep. He wonders how long he’s been sitting there like that, chin balanced precariously on his hand, wobbling ever so slightly.

Clack!

The tip of his cane strikes the flooring hard, enough to jostle anyone awake. V smiles. Maybe this makes him a hypocrite since he prefers quietude and a lack of interruptions when he’s reading, but. You know.]

You look like a man who’s been reading the same line again, and again… and again.

[chlorokyll]

[ For someone who has not had to sleep for the majority of his century and a half lifetime, the sensation of tiredness is new and utterly unwanted. After Knives collapsed at his desk he had fallen asleep for some time, with Vash insisting that was perhaps the best thing for him to do now. Knives doesn't like it at all, the idea of shutting his eyes and then so much time passing with him utterly unaware of what is taking place around him.

He has eaten something by now, but sleep won't return to him so easily, despite how desperately he needs it. Or so he thinks. The idea of laying himself down in a bed and shutting his eyes and having his exhaustion take over is simply too foreign for him to bother with it. He would rather make use of his time, hence why he's come to the library. There's much more that he needs to understand about both of these worlds.

The text he's found is about this world, the one outside of the game, as he slowly accepts that he will need to interact with it in some fashion. Yet he hasn't absorbed much thus far, with exhaustion draped over his shoulders like a heavy coat.

The clack causes him to straighten his back from where he'd almost been dozing off again, his gaze following the sound to find a man with a cane. His tired mind registers the face as familiar, before he even has the forethought to beat back those false memories. He's killed people for a less egregious offense than interrupting him while he's reading, but he certainly doesn't have the energy for that now. His grip tightens around the edge of the book, however, and as it shifts slightly there's a glimpse of metal gleaming beneath it.

Knives has dark circles under his eyes and looks like he needs at least three cups of coffee, with a loose gray hood pulled partway over his head. ]

And you look... familiar.

[ Will it be the same in reverse? Will this man remember him? ]

1/2

[verselet]

[Give it only a few moments, and yes, he will recall. The memories sweep in as though they were the tide, crowding his mind, some playing before his eyes as the features of this very-tired looking man usher in... associations. Familiarity. Time spent together in high school, though V certainly never attended such a thing. Ink embedding in skin with a needle, though he's never held a tattoo gun in the entirety of his life, this one or the one before.

The wan smile on his face falters then. He doesn't quite reel, but it's clear that he's struck by it all at once, and it takes a moment of consideration to decide what to say, how to proceed. This blasted place, messing with his mind -- no, he doesn't appreciate that.

Ugh.]

[verselet]

[But then he straightens slightly, then raises his cane to point it at the other man. (Yes, he has noticed that flash of metal gleaming just around the book. He should be more wary, shouldn't he? But V's undergone too much to let a little peek of steel give him pause.)]

I go by V. Is that the name flitting around your head? Just as yours worms its way through mine?

[A vague half-smirk.]

Old friend. Ex Ex Millions Knives Ex Ex. [i'm so sorry]

[chlorokyll]

[ These implanted memories are violating, and yet nothing Knives does can stop them from asserting themselves when he runs into a so-called familiar face, triggering a string of past moments that never actually took place. And yet, he also recalls willingly sitting himself in a chair and letting this man etch markings into his skin.

He recalls feeling a fondness toward him. As if they were companions.

Knives' hand moves to the cuff of his sleeve, but then V points his cane at him. The memories supply that he'd always suffered from poor health, that sometimes he had brought the cane with him to school. ]

Yes. [ Knives stands from his seat then, both to try and brush some of the exhaustion (and the memories) away and to assert himself. ] But we are not—

[ And then V addresses him in a truly odd manner, causing Knives to reel back for a moment in pure confusion. ] What was that? [ Guess who hasn't given any attention to his smartphone yet? However, there's more to it that that. He does have memories associated with that extra filigree around his name, but it isn't quite settling in just yet. ]

ONLINE, AVIS ISLE, sometime during their first day?!

[petitejournalism]

[ this has been a whirlwind for meryl — coming from what she'd been in the middle of in their own world, to this sort of place was nothing short of overwhelming and shocking. she'd practically sped through the tutorial, her worry over vash and the fate of their planet taking priority over choosing some dumb guild.

the time it takes to go through the tutorial, as well as her inability to go off track, at the very least calms her heartbeat down, gradually, until she's eventually left to her own devices to try and figure things out, a bit calmer than before. come on, meryl, you're a journalist. gathering information is not only your specialty but your job. you can do this. figure it out.

unfortunately, her information gathering only just barely begins when she hears a familiar voice — a dangerous voice — asking something about quests to a nearby npc, something of impatience to his tone. and her heart stops. feet frozen to the ground, it takes her only a moment before she's able to spot him, towering over others with that imposing height of his, his get-up unique and clear as day. millions knives. right there, mere meters in front of her. where was vash then? what happened to him? what had he done??

it's a given that that situation would be fresh for her, but more so, she remembers back to jeneora rock. so much, for her, stems from that town, not least of which the destruction he can cause and the inaction she took. she remembers back to the panicked way vash shouted for people to leave, the way the rocks fell crashing down, the way tonis slipped from her arms. not again. she won't just sit and do nothing. this is a town, with people in it, and she can't let that happen again.

taking a page out of vash's book, she starts to move her legs (like moving through mud, really), and goes up to anyone she can, blocking them with her arms from going any closer to where he's at, and trying to wave them away. ]

Y-You need to get out of here! Please — leave the town! [ npcs ignore her, for the most part, meant to say and do only specific things, but some player characters seem startled enough to listen. ] Come on, listen to me! It's not safe here!

[ she's definitely making enough of a ruckus for knives to hear, though she's making it a point not to actively go near him. ]

You have to leave! [ please, please, listen to her. why aren't some of them listening to her!? ]

[chlorokyll]

[ Shortly after returning to Domus Homus with his brother and discovering that they were even sharing the same living space (that will take some adjustment on both sides), Knives determined that he needed to return to the other world that he had passed over with such haste initially. As real as this place feels, there had still been the sense that it was virtual. While it would be simple enough to write it off as nothing more than a game, there seems to be more to it, with all of them having first appeared there.

This plane may very well be the key to answering his questions about how they arrived, and more importantly, how they can return. On top of that, he has at least some small well of power in this world, unlike that city that reeked so much of Earth.

However, that power is still far too meager. For a higher being such as him, who could summon entire plagues down onto a town, the fact that his Gate can currently only grant him his cloak and a single set of blades on his right hand is unacceptable.

"You want to get stronger? Well, you'll have to take on some quests! That's the way of it here." ]

Quests? What manner of—

[ But that's when a shrill voice cuts through the crowd, and for a moment Knives is back in that tank, with Vash right where he needs him. She'd been screeching then too, bothering Conrad when he needed to be monitoring the connection's progress. And now here she is again, being a nuisance.

He turns to watch her for a moment, how she hurriedly scrambles from person to person to entreat them to leave the town. Some barely react at all, others seem to think it's some sort of stunt, and yet a few do listen, distancing themselves with startled expressions.

He leaves the person he'd been talking to (who also has barely reacted to the uproar) and walks toward her, bare feet stepping over grass or cobbled stone as he approaches her, his pace measured. First Vash arrived, then he did, now her. Will it be Conrad next? Did their proximity to the core have something to do with this? Yet it doesn't explain the others who were also brought to this place, from entirely different worlds if Vash is to be believed. ]

That's hardly necessary. [ A shroud of calm is over him again and in his voice, his face only partially visible under the hood. The question is always when that calmness might fall away to be replaced by sudden, ruthless violence. ]

[petitejournalism]

[ having gotten some of the crowd to clear out — not nearly as much as she'd hoped, but enough for him to be visible to her more clearly, less people between them — she notices him walking toward her. and she hears his voice, calmness riding on it, in stark contrast to her own emotions.

she freezes up for a split second, unsure of what to do, before her body decides for her and begins stepping back clumsily. one step, and then two quick steps, and then a pause, before she can handle one more step again. it's just barely enough to keep a similar amount of distance between them, keep him from closing in on her too quickly — but, even the difference in how they take their steps shows a startling contrast between them right now.

her heart beat's quickening, her breathing along with it — having no powers herself, she has no baseline with which to understand that he's any less powerful than he was last she saw him. he's millions knives, out in the open, in a town full of people, capable of killing them all in nearly an instant.

she doesn't know how to respond to what he said, or rather, even process it, so keeping her eyes trained on him, she shouts back at him, no small amount of willpower behind it: ] Wh-Where's Vash!?

[ that's far more important to her than talking about how this is "necessary", though she's keeping her arms out to her sides, trying her best to shoo away anyone who threatens to come near, throwing in a shout to the people around her as well, sparing small glances off toward them: ] P-Please, you can't stay here! Run!

[ this is really all she has right now. ]

[chlorokyll]

[ His calm, controlled demeanor does stand in opposition to the girl's frantic stumbling backward. While Knives would have found some peace in watching the entire town turn into a frenzied panic as a result of her efforts, that's not precisely what's happening. The lack of reality here is showing, the true nature of this world brought to the forefront.

Some are taking heed of her warning and running, though. For better or worse.

Her question causes him to tilt his head to one side, the hood of his cloak shifting with the movement. So Vash hasn't found her yet. He can't even keep track of all of his precious little humans, can he? How typical. ]

I suspect he'll be here before long.

[ Or is he not inhabiting this world at the moment? It means little to Knives right now, as he's interested in making a point. ]

Most of the people you see here are not real. [ As if on cue (or perhaps because the NPC realizes that a player character needs something), a man in light armor strides over to them, looking from Knives to Meryl and then back again.

"Is there something I can help you with?"

Without any warning, Knives draws up his right hand and thrusts it toward the man. The twin blades that sprout from the back of his hand slice through the man's throat, and blood sprays out of the cleanly cut wound before his lifeless body collapses to the ground. Only a few moments later, however, the entire body vanishes, fading out of existence. ]

Death is not truly death in this place, you see. There is little point in panicking them.

at dodo house!

[ndw]

[ Life in this strange world (plural) is starting to feel a little permanent, after a month of waking up in his room in Dodo House. The sound of rain isn't as novel as it first was, though it's still as lovely, and Wolfwood's starting to get acquainted with the sensation of eating so much that his stomach feels tight afterwards. These things, which he couldn't even have conceived of a month ago, are starting to feel normal.

It's becoming normal too, to see Vash everyday without reason or ulterior motive. Even if the two couldn't be further apart in their opinions of what qualifies as "normal", Vash is still something familiar in a place that is otherwise entirely foreign and strange.

He opts to be nice, for once, in an attempt to whittle down his mountain of transgressions one good deed at a time. Vash had lent him his clothes the other day, and rather than letting them sit in a corner, growing damper and moldier, until Vash came to retrieve them, Wolfwood actually went to the effort of laundering and folding them before sauntering down the halls of Dodo House to return his borrowed favour.

It barely counts as a good deed, but he's already practicing the air of nonchalance he plans to wear as he approaches the door.

He doesn't bother to knock—the House lets him in sometimes—instead pushing the door open with a greeting on his lips, ] Spikey, you 'round?

[chlorokyll]

[ The sound of the door opening is what wakes Knives from a nap he never intended on taking.

After he collapsed, Vash had insisted on having him lay out here on the couch so that he could "keep an eye on him." An absurd notion. It's odd to have his brother fuss over him, especially when he has some false memories of similar moments swirling around in his mind. Times when he'd fallen sick and Vash had stayed at his bedside.

Of course, he doesn't get sick. Or rather, he isn't supposed to, but this world they've found themselves in has changed everything. Apparently connecting to the other world, Duocaeli, for as long as he did led to some negative consequences. Out here, his body requires things like food and rest. While he'd already known that, he thought he could put it off.

And so he'd fallen asleep on the living area's couch. Only to be woken by—

As he presses up into a sit and stares across the room at the entering Punisher, Knives' face is still awash with exhaustion. It clings to him, usually straight and proud shoulders buried under the unfamiliar sensation. A plate is on the coffee table in front of him, but there's little but crumbs left on it now.

It's aggravating to be faced with a subordinate while in such a sorry state. Knives presses to his feet, and it's only then that Vash's coat (which had been draped over him, it seems) falls to the floor. He frowns down at the garment, then back to Wolfwood. ]

He must have gone elsewhere. Hmm. He didn't mention you were here, Punisher.

[ He's not quite as menacing when he looks like he's in sore need of caffeine. So, now it's four of them. He, Vash, and the journalist had all been in the tank room. The Punisher being here obliterates any theory he might have had about the means of their travel here. ]

[ndw]

[ When the clothes that Wolfwood was here to return hit the ground, it's not out of surprise. While Vash might not've said anything to Knives about his presence, he had sent a message to Wolfwood warning him that Knives was here, and so he'd had a couple of days to brace himself for the possibility of running into him.

That's not to say he expected to see him here. In what should've been Vash's suite.

So he is a little surprised, but he's moving on purpose when he discards the clothes on the floor. It's an act of preparation. He doesn't know what to expect, but the tight coil in his stomach and the tension working its way up his spine are sure signs of his fight or flight response, and he wants his hands free, regardless of the choice that he makes.

When he speaks, its through gritted teeth, ] Surprise.

[ He's not quite sure what to say. It's not like people are known to converse with Knives, and Wolfwood had never bothered for fear of letting his distaste show too plainly on his face and being subsequently killed for his disrespect. Conrad's experiments might've allowed him to survive Legato's anger, but Wolfwood has less hopes of standing up to the monster in front of him.

Though—he doesn't look quite like the monster that Wolfwood is familiar with. He almost... looks like a man. ]

Did I wake you from your nap? I gotta remember you need your beauty sleep now that you're the same as the rest of us.

[ He probably shouldn't be too taunting, but he can't help it. ]

[chlorokyll]

[ Knives had insisted on meeting the Punisher at least once before he was sent out on his mission. Conrad had been confident that this particular subject was the best choice for the job of escorting Vash to July, but Knives had still wanted to stare into the undertaker's eyes himself. His kill count had spoken for itself, a testament to the fact that he would be able to keep Vash safe from any trouble that he inevitably put himself in.

But he would also need to be able to keep Vash at his side, when his brother was famously good at slinking off.

Knives will say this much: the Punisher got the job done, bringing Vash to his doorstep at the exact moment that he'd planned. His contract fulfilled, the fact is that there's little more for them to speak about now.

And yet, the situation they find themselves in now forces the issue. ]

I will never be the same as you. [ The response comes out in a hiss. You meaning humans. It's a sore spot, that he now needs to consume and rest the way that humans do, but this is merely temporary. Something imposed on him, rather than his natural state.

And while they may no longer have any business between them, the undertaker clearly came here to see Vash. Those are Vash's clothes on the floor — Knives almost bores a hole in them with his gaze. And Vash is his business. ] What are you doing here?

delivery; a day or two after their dungeon run

[verselet]

[Somehow—quite bafflingly, really—an impressive bouquet of flowers has been delivered either to your door, or already somewhere within your room. It’s a tall and overstuffed thing in its vase, brimming with gladiolus, hyacinth, and long stems of amaryllis, each blossom vibrant and contrasting against its neighbor.

With it comes a little personalized note that reads:]

A “thank you” for your assistance amid the treacherous slopes of Mount Cumulo. May these blossoms never wilt. (I was told that they won’t.)

[A more better personalized line follows:]

So, did you level up, I wonder?

-V

[chlorokyll]

[ More flowers? Surely no one who sends these understands just how much it touches a nerve, but shockingly, these were actually meant to come to him. V is an odd one, and Knives wonders if he is somehow drawn in by him the way some other humans have been. ]

They won't wilt? How is that possible, when they've been cut from the earth?

And yes, I did, though it will take far more work to regain the level of power I had prior to my arrival here.

[verselet]

[bruh he sent these to all of his party members--

But also, he thought it might be amusing to bother Knives with a bouquet of flowers, if only because he doesn't seem like much the type to... appreciate them. (Little does he know the complex feelings that might arise because. Plants.)]

I don't know. It's what the seller told me. I suppose time will tell whether or not it's true.

So you better hold onto them for that long.

[ :) ]

How far removed would you say you are from your previous "level" of power?

[chlorokyll]

[ It still feels odd keeping the flowers, if Knives is honest. On the other hand, if they truly won't wilt and waste away, then he is curious to test that claim. ]

I will let you know if the seller successfully lied to you to make this sale.

[ Sounds like typical human behavior. Either way, V has somehow found a way to get Knives to keep them, so there is that. ]

You saw the knives that I brought forth from my hand. At full power, I could draw a countless number of them from my Gate. Enough to decimate an entire town.

id: junebug

[feyfound]

Dear Mister XxMillionsKnivesxX,

Hail and well met! My name is Juniper Veltris. I've only just arrived in this place and have been acquainting myself with these "cell phones," but I couldn't help but notice your peculiar pen name! I'm really curious, so I thought I would write you!

So, if it's okay for me to ask: do you own 20 millions of knives?

If so: may I peruse your collection??

Sincerely,
Juni

[chlorokyll]

[ Why has this person decided to message him at random? Knives would be just as likely to ignore it, honestly, as he isn't used to anyone having such a direct line to him in the first place. He's already starting to tire of it.

However, this Juniper is asking about one of his favorite subjects, so he does eventually reply when he has a free moment. (While eating a meal. Ugh.) ]

Millions Knives is my name. I do not know what the "Xx" flanking it is there for, but the username already existed before I arrived here. It supposedly belongs to my "other self," according to my false memories.

It seems more likely that whoever dragged us here chose the username for an unknown reason.

To answer your question: Normally I would be able to produce knives in large numbers, but I am currently limited by this place.

[feyfound]

...Produce!? How? Conjuration magic?

But can you conjure 20 millions of knives, Mister Millions!?

Without the limits of this place, I mean!

[chlorokyll]

[ Magic? Yes, it does seem that there are places even outside of Duocaeli where such things are real. ]

Not magic, but as part of my nature as a plant.

Without the limits of this place, I could conjure a large number of knives. As I said, the "Xx" is irrelevant.

[ Look, he's never counted the actual number he's drawn out before, but it's a lot. ]

text | @master.pinocchio

[bubblegumwhisky]

Dear Mister Millions Knives,

Hey what's up? It's me, the puppet from the library.

Thanks for showing me how this works! Check this shit out!

[((ATTM: cat.jpg))

It's a lopsided picture of one of the QUEST cats. There's a wee wooden hand scratching under its chin.]

Do you know how it makes illustrations so fast? Tell me if you do. This is crazy. No one's ever going to believe me about it.

Sincerely,

P.

[chlorokyll]

[ On one hand, the puppet addresses him appropriately. On the other hand, Knives had sort of been hoping that one lesson would be the end of it.

Perhaps it had been foolish of him to make such an assumption. He can't understand why some strange child would attach to him like this. How bothersome.

Still, the cat is a curious thing, if only because such creatures are extremely rare where he's from. Kuroneko, where you at. ]

It isn't making an illustration. Would you not see sketch lines in that case? It is simply capturing the image by use of a lens.

[bubblegumwhisky]

Oh cool I get it now.

[he does not get it.

Also he was tempted to ask why none of the animals here talked. He has been doggedly avoiding the pitch black cat on the other side of the room because while everyone else was cool with skritching PIB, it always felt a bit sacrilege to him? Even if these cats are Not Smart, kinda hits too close to home. Stripeys and orange boys only for him.

No matter. There are more pressing concerns afoot.]

Anyway don't be mad, I have a second question. It's actually really important.

[chlorokyll]

[ It's hard to imagine that Pinocchio understood any of that, given that everything Knives has explained to him thus far has to be clarified at least three times.

But if he's too embarrassed to admit as much now, all the better.

Either way, it doesn't end there. It never does with this foolish wooden child. ]

I find that hard to believe.

[ But he's better with texting than face to face, so Pinocchio isn't getting ghosted just yet. ]