this is set before the eruption and evacuation! tw - casual drug use mentioned//

darkness swirls around his vision as liquor bleeds down his throat, leaving the muscles sore and raw. Coffee and some sort of booze, bitter and sour mixing into some hyper drug wired to keep the tiger awake. Just a bit longer, just a little bit longer. He wants to watch the sun rise, slowly. He never wakes up early enough so maybe if he stays up late enough-

He notices when his drink suddenly gets a little sweeter, that something is off.

Oh, fowl bitter liquid, the acidic tang of booze and ground charred beans- whatever they put in his drink was sweeter in comparison. And the tiger grins lazily at whoever passed him the drink as he finishes it, the burn of it chased by an aftertaste that is horrid, but compared to the burn- the char- it is a sweet aftertaste.

he does not put up much of a fight because he has an inkling of what it is, and his suspicions are confirmed when someone pushes him out of the bar, pulling him through the water- to a small little island where he is left alone to his thoughts, his sky- his island. This clan thinks it can trick the tiger- the very same who originally taught them how to make this? He originally tricked them(helped them)?

The sky shifts slightly in color, and between green eyes vaas can swear there is a tint of red. He is content, except the red streaks usually start at the horizon, not the middle of the sky- right? something is off, there is no sun to greet the tiger, to familiar fond memories that shift into his focus or the buzz of the island coming alive with the sun- only silence, only darkness, only the sky, slowly bleeding red.

the sands shift, roots ensnare under careful paws and push. He is trusted into the air by some unseen force and lifted to get a closer view. The land under paw is unsteady and shifting, and he hears his mother's coos. indiscriminate in meaning but each syllable laced with pride. The tiger smiles triumphantly. something shifts and drips around his throat, light but noticeable, and he looks down to note the jade pendant, oddly formed- shaped by careful claws and warped in black leather cord.

but something is creeping, and even in the limelight, basking in mother's pride darkness shifts in the corner of his vision. The water churns around this small island. He hears hissing and clicks and shiners at the gust of wind-

fire - torches move as others join below him. Stone steadies wood and he see's the brilliant color blue shift upwards to look at him. Suddenly his sister joins him, on his little pedestal- his thrown. She smiles coy- and something is off, it is the look she gives in conning- in lying. The world bleeds around them as he watches her, the twins circling one another. His sister and him. She speaks softly, and below them a sea of voices are louder- his sister's voice goes shrill, her face blends into purfect fury-

mE OR THEM VAAS

the world bleeds into focus, and in such clear focus his sister is there with him, on the sands of the isle, her blue eyes narrowed into slits as she glares scathingly. Between them is a blade and she hisses low defiant- angry bitter restenting-

Vaas, who the fuck is it going to be? Them or me? Me or them?-

and promptly, fades back out.

The sky is weeping now. blood seeps into his paws as if he is wading in it, stopping just below his knees. Wood is gritted between his teeth, the scent of the jungle coming alive- he can hear screaming in the distance. Laughter that sounds wicked and cruel. His mother is dying, her eyes are fading- light slipping between and he grins down at her, watches at the jungle witch's roots writhe as her life weakens, her power failing and the plants around the waver. The jungle shifts around them in the hush of night. Dawn breaks.

He has never gotten to the point of being blackout drunk, never allowed himself to fully reach the point where his thoughts are no longer his own. And this is the reason why, control falls between his grip as oranges glide across the sky. Tepid blues bright enough to make him wince between the canopy line. The jungle is quiet- at least, quiet around him. It tells him that prey is gone, that no one is near, and he lets out a hollow groan, closing his eyes and trying to move- get up.

He stumbles over uneven roots, not paying any mind to the stench of slowly approaching rot in the air from behind him- and walks away, walks to the beach - to the isle. A dagger falls below the undergrowth forgotten. Vaas does not remember anything last night, his sister was there though. Confronted him- pushed him over the edge. - something happened. He can't remember, for once- doesn't want to. Anything that involves his sister is better left forgotten, and he pushes away, weary- tired.

Heads home to sleep of the rest of this... hangover. Whatever this jungle juice- fucking slip gave him.

Hopefully by the afternoon, he can forget the whole thing happened. One things for sure, he'll make the fucking bartender pay.

// okay so reality blurred  a lot there for poor vaas. What happened tldr: vaas got high on the jungle juice, and everything was great, all he ever wanted was his vision, but then his sister actually came to confront him about leaving the family. She pushes him to do something he can't remember, and he goes home to hopefully sleep off the rest of his hangover.