Chapter Text
Vine Staff is a healer.
This is a fact she’s quite proud of, naturally, given how rare it was for an inphernal to spawn with healing gear. In turn, she takes her job very seriously.
She likes to think she’s tougher than she appears on the outside, in her frilly pink outfits and flowers. As delicate as people may take her for, she still enthusiastically took part in phights like any other red-blooded inphernal.
This is all a long-winded way of saying that, when the inpherno collectively set aside their murderous beef to organize and partake in yet another phestival, Vine Staff signed up quite eagerly. After all, when her foolhardy brother and equally reckless friends got themselves into trouble, who else would be there to heal them?
She supposes there is that grumpy doctor, Medkit, but ultimately decides to allow herself this moment of ego.
The phestival’s opening ceremony was, more than anything, an opportunity for phighters to size up their opponents. Make allies. Strategize.
(Well, that last bit was mainly Vine Staff. Everyone else might be content with senseless violence, but she would rather be prepared, thank you very much.)
“D’you think Skateboard is here?” Vine Staff is snapped out of her thoughts by Slingshot, who stood on his tiptoes to survey the crowd. “He wouldn’t miss a phestival. Right?”
Shuriken shrugs. “Doubt it. He’s around.”
Vine Staff crosses her arms. “I imagine he’s with the rest of the Playground folk.”
At that, Slingshot’s eyes light up. “Good call! I’m gonna go look for him and Boombox. Catch you guys later!”
Before Vine Staff can stop him, he’s off, weaving through the crowd of inphernals. Shuriken moves as if to follow, but before he can, Vine Staff grabs him by the back of his hood.
“Please don’t run off,” she chides. “I don’t want to lose track of both of you.”
Her brother heaves a needlessly dramatic sigh. “C’mon! Can’t we socialize a little? Don’t you have any friends from other factions?”
Vine Staff hesitates. She did have friends outside of the Thieves Den and Crossroads, right? Was Medkit her friend? They certainly shared some kind of mutual understanding, both being healers and all. Even if she was quite creeped out by that cult he was always hanging around.
“Of course I do,” she says. “I just don’t think it’s-”
“Then let’s go!” Shuriken urges. Reluctantly, she follows after him.
The Crossroads were always bustling with activity and life, but tonight, the center square was especially crowded. Phighters and spectators alike were gathered to celebrate the beginning of the phestival.
Shuriken seems to spot someone he recognizes at the bar. Vine Staff isn’t certain she knows his name, but she can certainly recognize Medkit, who sits nearby looking thoroughly disinterested in the whole affair. And the woman he’s talking to…
Vine Staff grabs Shuriken’s arm. “Wait,” she warns.
“What? It’s just Sword. He’s cool,” Shuriken says, frowning.
“It isn’t that,” she says, troubled.
Being as cautious a person as she is, Vine Staff can recognize a wanted killer when she sees one.
Dressed in an outfit strikingly similar to Medkit’s own is Scythe, an inphernal whose reputation preceded her. Her gear is strapped to her back rather than remaining hidden, striking an intimidating figure. In her hand is a glass of dark alcohol- whiskey, if Vine Staff had to guess.
She’s far more relaxed than she has any right being, given that she’s in broad daylight. Moonlight. Whatever.
Shuriken sighs, and wriggles out of Vine Staff’s grasp, rushing over to greet who she assumes is Sword. She hesitates, before deciding that leaving him alone near two cultists would probably make her a bad sister.
A paragon of grace and composure, Vine Staff approaches the bar, taking a seat. “Vine! You know Sword, right?” Shuriken asks.
“I don’t think we’ve met,” she says, offering a hand for Sword to shake. “Vine Staff. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too!” Sword says, chipper as anything.
“Who’s this?” Behind Vine Staff, Medkit has stopped his conversation with Scythe.
“This is Shuriken. We’ve fought together a few times,” Sword explains. “And this is-”
“We’ve met,” Medkit says dryly, sizing up Vine Staff. “You seem well.”
“I am, thank you,” Vine Staff says, smiling. Thank the swords he actually remembered her, or this would’ve been way more embarrassing. “I didn’t take you as a phestival sort of person.”
With a long-suffering sigh, Medkit shakes his head. “I was talked into it.”
Vine Staff opens her mouth to reply, but a moment later, her heart drops as Scythe all but materializes next to Medkit.
“Who’re your friends, Doc?” Her voice is nicer than Vine Staff expected, with a thick southern drawl.
“Not friends,” Medkit says bluntly. (Ouch.) “Just another healer I met some time back, and one of Sword’s friends.”
“Healer?” Scythe’s gaze locks onto Vine Staff, and she’s given the immediate impression of a hawk eyeing its prey. “Ain’t that somethin’. What’s your name?”
“Vine Staff,” she replies coolly.
“A pleasure. I’m Scythe.”
“I know who you are.”
Despite the fact that everything in Vine Staff’s postures screams ‘leave me alone’, Scythe doesn’t seem cowed, a fierce grin lighting up her face. “Sharp.” She takes a slow sip of her drink, gaze never leaving her face.
Medkit clears his throat. “I’d rather not waste too much time here. Have you gotten what you came for?”
Scythe, mercifully, turns her attention back to Medkit. “Almost. There’s someone else I’d like to have a word with before I go. But please, don’t let me keep you.”
“Wasn’t planning on it.” Medkit gives Vine Staff a brief nod of acknowledgement, before turning to leave.
“See you around?” she calls out hopefully, but gets no response. Great. Sighing, Vine Staff leans against the bar counter. It was probably a bad idea to drink the night before a phight, but damn if she wasn’t tempted.
To her immense displeasure, Scythe seems to be watching her. She's determined to ignore it- if this was some sort of sick intimidation tactic, Vine Staff wouldn’t let it get under her skin.
“How long have you had this beauty?” Scythe finally asks.
Taken aback, Vine Staff says, “How long have I had what?”
Gently, Scythe taps on her left arm. She can’t actually feel it, on account of the fact that the arm had been made of solid wood since her spawning, but she yanks it away regardless.
“It isn’t beautiful. It’s a curse,” Vine Staff says tersely.
“Ya’ really think so?” Scythe shakes her head. “That’s a real shame. It seems more like a blessin’, to me.”
“You don’t know me,” Vine Staff says. “I would prefer it if you didn’t talk to me like you do.”
Leaning on her elbows, Scythe smiles roguishly. “Why don’t we get to know each other, then~? I mean, we may well be fightin’ together tomorrow.”
Vine Staff shoots her a skeptical look, and takes the opportunity to get a good look at the woman’s face. She’s older than many inphernals Vine Staff had met, and given the inherently violent nature of the inpherno, that alone would’ve made her wary, even if she didn’t already know who Scythe was. Small scars criss-cross her face, and all of her expressions carry an intensity that didn’t seem to fade. She is, undeniably, a magnetic presence.
“I don’t have any desire to get to know you. I already know exactly who you are.” Vine Staff looks away.
Scythe hums. “I can guess some things about you too, darlin’.” Before Vine Staff can say anything further, she continues, “I saw you’n your friends hangin’ around Katana.”
Vine Staff’s blood goes cold. “How do you know Katana?”
Side-eyeing Vine Staff, the corner of Scythe’s mouth quirks up in a mirthless smile. “Me n’ Katana go way back.” Swirling the liquid in her glass, her expression darkens, and she says, “The fucking traitor.”
It’s at that moment that Vine Staff decides she really, really doesn’t like Scythe. “You really don’t shut up, do you?”
“Aw, don’t be like that.” Scythe pouts. “It’s nothin’ against you.”
“I don’t appreciate people speaking badly about my friends,” she says coolly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’m going to go.”
Abruptly, she stands up, and begins stomping away. Shuriken looks over at her, alarmed. “Vine? Are y-”
“I’m fine. I’ll see you at the apartment after the party.” He looks as if he wants to follow her, before deciding better of it.
It’s as Vine Staff is elegantly storming away that she hears the woman call out to her one last time.
“See you around, flowers!”
Overgrown Garden
Sunlight spilling in
Vying flowers, trodden leaves
A nectar sweet song
-Vine Staff