The Box
Title: The Box
Fandom: FF7
Character: Vincent
Rating: G
Words: 770
Summary: Vincent finds a most unlikely solution to his issues in dealing with his demons.
Note: This came about because of the scene where Cloud asked if sin could be forgiven, and Vincent answered that he never tried.
He couldn't get out of The Box. Amazing, simple technology had been placed into it, and if he tried to open the lid… he was knocked unconscious. After only a few tries, he'd given up, though after one such bout, his left hand had become distinctly different.
He could no longer feel it. He could, however, feel the demons, which he'd felt come and go in almost mute tides in the back of his mind between consciousness and unconscious. It made him think of hibernation, rest. The lull had been almost enough to pull him under, a few times.
This, too, he attributed to some unknown facet of his new world. The Box.
It wasn't a bad box, soft, well padded, and it came with attire that tugged oddly and made it more likely that he would knock himself out because he wasn't in the least used to it. Usually he tried not to move just because of this, and he was starting to tire of constantly losing time involuntarily.
Especially not after whatever had happened to his arm had happened.
He was sure that it could be attributed to Hojo.
He was also sure it would be quite horrifying once he figured it out.
At the moment though, everything was quite peaceful.
Forcing his mind to work, he considered the fact that before he found himself in The Box, things hadn't been very good. The demons didn't like that he wanted them to keep under control and had done quite a large amount of damage.
Whenever he was let out of The Box, he was sure that problem would come right back to life.
The very idea made him want to grimace, and he studied the soft wall directly in front of his face, mulling over the issue.
For now the demons were quiet.
It would not always be that way.
If he slept forever it would do no good, someone, someday, would let him out.
Having had enough of thinking for the moment, he moved his hand and touched the lid to deal with any insomnia issues.
-o-o-o-
Next time he woke in The Box, he had a different perspective on events. Hojo had taken him out to put a device on his arm. He could feel it now, in a strange way, and he didn't like that he didn't remember having lost the limb in the first place.
He'd been right, and while he'd been aware and out, the demons had surged forward, leaving him uneasy and disturbed. It had also left him with very bare threads of control on his temper and fangs.
It had only grown worse when he'd been told of Sephiroth and the death of Lucretia.
Thus, he was grateful to be back in The Box. The coffin. He'd actually seen it this time, briefly.
It would remain The Box.
The demons didn't immediately subside and retreat to their hibernation this time. No, they seemed aware, uneasy, lurking in the back of his mind.
They seemed to bristle when he thought of Lucretia. They were satisfied with the idea of her death. He wasn't, and when he flung his sadness over the matter, betrayal or no, at them, they seemed to recoil.
He'd expected that to anger them, and the fact it did not gained his attention.
He focused on the fact that Sephiroth would grow up in the hands of Hojo.
They did not care.
When he focused on the fact that this upset him, they grew uneasy and quieter, but only when he focused on the sadness, not the anger at his helplessness.
Odd.
When he thought about how he had been manipulated into this position and let himself get a bit vindictive or upset, the demons perked up, relaxing.
When he thought wistfully of his lost chance, again, the demons seemed to not like that.
He thought about the fact he'd been hurt, and felt the edge of the demons getting annoyed, circling for an opening.
When he considered that it was his own fault for having stuck his nose where it didn't belong, again, the quieting.
He had found a common thread among the reactions, and that was… useful. Very useful.
In fact, it gave him an idea. It would likely warp him in ways that he wouldn't like, but it would do well enough if it worked out as he hoped.
At least then he would control the demons easily.
Even if it did turn him into a bit of a pathetic fool.
He would, however, be ready to leave The Box, when someone finally let him out.
Fandom: FF7
Character: Vincent
Rating: G
Words: 770
Summary: Vincent finds a most unlikely solution to his issues in dealing with his demons.
Note: This came about because of the scene where Cloud asked if sin could be forgiven, and Vincent answered that he never tried.
He couldn't get out of The Box. Amazing, simple technology had been placed into it, and if he tried to open the lid… he was knocked unconscious. After only a few tries, he'd given up, though after one such bout, his left hand had become distinctly different.
He could no longer feel it. He could, however, feel the demons, which he'd felt come and go in almost mute tides in the back of his mind between consciousness and unconscious. It made him think of hibernation, rest. The lull had been almost enough to pull him under, a few times.
This, too, he attributed to some unknown facet of his new world. The Box.
It wasn't a bad box, soft, well padded, and it came with attire that tugged oddly and made it more likely that he would knock himself out because he wasn't in the least used to it. Usually he tried not to move just because of this, and he was starting to tire of constantly losing time involuntarily.
Especially not after whatever had happened to his arm had happened.
He was sure that it could be attributed to Hojo.
He was also sure it would be quite horrifying once he figured it out.
At the moment though, everything was quite peaceful.
Forcing his mind to work, he considered the fact that before he found himself in The Box, things hadn't been very good. The demons didn't like that he wanted them to keep under control and had done quite a large amount of damage.
Whenever he was let out of The Box, he was sure that problem would come right back to life.
The very idea made him want to grimace, and he studied the soft wall directly in front of his face, mulling over the issue.
For now the demons were quiet.
It would not always be that way.
If he slept forever it would do no good, someone, someday, would let him out.
Having had enough of thinking for the moment, he moved his hand and touched the lid to deal with any insomnia issues.
-o-o-o-
Next time he woke in The Box, he had a different perspective on events. Hojo had taken him out to put a device on his arm. He could feel it now, in a strange way, and he didn't like that he didn't remember having lost the limb in the first place.
He'd been right, and while he'd been aware and out, the demons had surged forward, leaving him uneasy and disturbed. It had also left him with very bare threads of control on his temper and fangs.
It had only grown worse when he'd been told of Sephiroth and the death of Lucretia.
Thus, he was grateful to be back in The Box. The coffin. He'd actually seen it this time, briefly.
It would remain The Box.
The demons didn't immediately subside and retreat to their hibernation this time. No, they seemed aware, uneasy, lurking in the back of his mind.
They seemed to bristle when he thought of Lucretia. They were satisfied with the idea of her death. He wasn't, and when he flung his sadness over the matter, betrayal or no, at them, they seemed to recoil.
He'd expected that to anger them, and the fact it did not gained his attention.
He focused on the fact that Sephiroth would grow up in the hands of Hojo.
They did not care.
When he focused on the fact that this upset him, they grew uneasy and quieter, but only when he focused on the sadness, not the anger at his helplessness.
Odd.
When he thought about how he had been manipulated into this position and let himself get a bit vindictive or upset, the demons perked up, relaxing.
When he thought wistfully of his lost chance, again, the demons seemed to not like that.
He thought about the fact he'd been hurt, and felt the edge of the demons getting annoyed, circling for an opening.
When he considered that it was his own fault for having stuck his nose where it didn't belong, again, the quieting.
He had found a common thread among the reactions, and that was… useful. Very useful.
In fact, it gave him an idea. It would likely warp him in ways that he wouldn't like, but it would do well enough if it worked out as he hoped.
At least then he would control the demons easily.
Even if it did turn him into a bit of a pathetic fool.
He would, however, be ready to leave The Box, when someone finally let him out.