OKAY HEAR ME OUT I JUST THOUGHT OF SOMETHING
This might be kind of obvious but, as always, I like to share my thoughts so that maybe others can share theirs too.
It's really interesting how Vash is called "The Humanoid Typhoon", right? Like a straightforward name, a human-looking person who causes destruction wherever he goes, we get that.
BUT hear me out, why don't they just call him the Human Typhoon..?
The majority of the people on No Man's Land don't know he's a plant so obviously that can't be the excuse. And I doubt Nightow was like "Well it would be confusing to call him the Human Typhoon when he's not really human" like cmon be real here for a second, he could've easily done that, there is WAY more confusing stuff in Trigun then calling a non-human character a human.
I'm bringing in examples from Stampede because it's what I can recall quickly so sorry I cant bring up specific examples from the manga and the 98 anime, maybe later.
Well, I mean, when you think about it, most people don't really see this 'Vash the Stampede' guy as a human. We LITERALLY have a whole scene with Meryl poking fun at people for making him out to be this wacky character and not as an actual human. Like she said in the eng dub:
"Real people aren't such caricatures. He's a man, not a monster."
The people of No Man's Land don't view 'Vash the Stampede' as a human. He's basically like an urban legend to them. A rumor you hear about amongst folk sitting on their front porches in the evening. A scary story older siblings tell younger siblings that if they don't behave the Humanoid Typhoon will come and get them. Even Rollo had heard of Vash being talked about this way. He said, after Vash was surprised the kid had heard of him,(again in the eng dub):
"Well, yeah, you're super famous. You're the real-life Humanoid Typhoon, everybody knows you!"
"I heard something else, too! You're a walking disaster, a demon who wreaks havoc wherever he goes."
Even in the manga and 98 anime after the JuLai incident, they talk about him like he's this weird cryptid going around causing mayhem and destruction. He's destroyed two whole cities and put a hole in the moon. It would be hard for any human to believe something was capable of this unless they met him in person and saw what he is capable of.
Idk it was just something that literally struck me while I was eating dinner and I typed this up real quick after finishing my meal so sorry if this seems a little messy.
As always, I appreciate the attention to detail when it comes to the writing in Trigun. While this may seem like a small and insignificant thing, I really love how even the smallest of things seem to carry information throughout the story. Just makes it all the more special to me :,)
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"What will you do now?"
Yor spits ash from his mouth, knees sinking in the snow, and he squints at the fey hovering at his side. Their voice is loud and clear where their form isn't.
It hurts to look at them now, despite them becoming his...benefactor. They feel indistinct. Looking as a willow's leaves billowing in the wind - wispy and airy. Whether they still count as his patron when he can already feel their warming fire fade from his fingertips and their name slip his mind, he's not so sure. Their contract has already been fulfilled.
Yor opens his mouth and instantly regrets it, the fresh burn across his face pulling unpleasantly.
The fey tsk's and a touch like his sister's numbing poultices covers the raised skin and he tries not to think about her. About leaving her behind in a hell of her own design with their Matron Mother's corpse and an entire House that would be turning to her. The burn stings even more in the cold. It was her choice. "This will scar. Hope you won't mind a pinch here and there."
Yor carefully brushes the archfey's hand away, wary of accepting favours he hasn't agreed to, "No."
He made the first contact for a reason. It was a simple transaction, for a reason. So he would be free.
"So, what's next?" The fey's voice rumbles low in their throat, unperturbed, and Yor catches a glimpse of warm, honey brown eyes as they lean away.
Yor rises to his feet, unsteady, unwieldy and much too stiff after running through half of Menzoberranzan and a good portion of the surrounding area before he was whisked away in the fey's arms with their laughter ringing in Yor's ears as the Carnak Manor burned behind them. The stinging snow wasn't doing his joints any favours either.
Yor blinks and refocuses on the fey, then away when their face swirls in nauseating patterns. He leans against the closest tree. He's so cold, with nothing but the singed clothes on his back and, oh, he really didn't think this through enough, "Why do you care?"
The fey laughs, booming, "You called for freedom! You craved to lose the chains holding you in the dark. You gave it all away, for a chance at this. I could do no less than answer. And now I hold everything you ever were, and everything you could have been down there in the gloom of Menzoberranzan. Is it so difficult to believe I want to know how you want to live now? To see you thrive?"
The scowl pulls horribly at Yor's burn but he holds it, "And what would you ask in return to know that?" The prospect of breaking past the constraints of Drow society, only to end under an archfey's thumb and dancing to their tune instead fills Yor with bitter sort of despair. He'd rather die.
They pause, and Yor feels more than sees the fey sink until their feet touch the ground.
"Nothing. Not truly. I know you. In a way you can't really grasp right now. But I want to know what you will see. What you will experience. How you will become yourself..."
Yor can hear something in their voice. Rue. A reserved sort of bitterness.
"...I always forget what it means to be yourself."
His brow furrows at their words. They walk precisely two steps, to stand before Yor where he can't avoid looking at their form that seems like a warped mirror - all colours and no form. Yor tries to focus on them through the glamour - if it even is one. He saw them just fine earlier this evening, when they answered his call, so why can he no longer see through it-
"It's a favour I'm asking for myself. Being selfish."
A flash of red. Bright against the snow, especially under starlight to Yor's eyes, so used to the Underdark.
"Let me come with you. Learn of the world away from the Feywild through your eyes, someone who also hasn't been here before. Let me experience this at your side."
A wide, brilliant smile.
"You'll have a companion to match any of them, a friend if you want one."
Yor blinks. They're short. At least, compared to Yor.
"That is my 'bargain', if you could call it that, Yor."
And they've been waving their hands all this time, almost pleading with him. Sturdy arms, with strong forearms and wide palms.
"I want a... a companionship."
A strong jawline, speckled with freckles of all things.
"I want to see how one can be themselves. So maybe I can learn to not forget how to be me again."
They are so earnest. It cuts away Yor's breath, as his teeth start to chatter.
And they are breathless. Looking at him with a plea that mirrors the one Yor was giving them earlier. Resolute, unafraid. Asking for a future.
And they laugh at his silence, "And, I guess, if that couldn't convince you, after everything of you that I have and know before it changes too much, then nothing else can?"
He can see their eyes clearly now, so warm...
"N-no, nothing else can..."
Oh, how beautiful their eyes look, even as they return to resigned placidity.
"But you won't need anything else."
Putting the stars to shame, they do.
"...oh, you're horrid!"
And they laugh, shoving him back and Yor can't help a little smile even as he sways precariously in place. His legs are numb and his hands are trembling, but he's transfixed.
"Then say my name! Call me to your side, and we'll have an adventure all our own."
Yor raises a brow, "With no contract? No... t-transaction?"
The fey shrugs, "Only if you wish for one. I won't demand anything more for this. You give me a place to be, I give you a friend to have."
"That simple?"
"It can be. It's how I am. Forgetting my nature when I can is how I live. That at least, I never forget."
Yor chuckles, "You, Shi'iduvelan Aran, are t-too odd for your own good."
And she smiles.
"And since that's a mouthful, you should call me Shi'n. Now come here, let me get you warmed up."
Yor thinks he laughs as he passes out in Shi'n's arms.
Finally free. To make horrible choices, maybe. But they are his.
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