Vincent refused to respond. That was what the monster wanted--to wind him up, wind that coil of tension that was always in the back of his head to the point it snapped, to see him broken again.
It wasn't easy, as Vincent's mind was one place he'd never had the best control, but this far he was doing well enough. He held his tongue, as it were, and kept the roiling wash of emotions down as low as he could, drawing once again on habits from the days before Omega, the same practices he'd used to keep Chaos under control during those times when the Protomateria he'd unwittingly harbored in his chest just wasn't enough.
Vincent Valentine knew what he was. He didn't need some monster to tell him. Likewise, however, if that kept the monster from doing anything worse, he could handle that. Keep the WEAPON at bay, just like he used to. It was the purpose for which he'd been reborn, after all.
Vincent Valentine knew what he was, now more than ever. He was, and would always be, a vessel for the end of the world. Nothing more, nothing less, for the rest of eternity.
...This would have been easier to bear if the apocalypse didn't insist on wearing the form of everything Vincent had so irrevocably lost.
"Awwww, don't ignore me, Vinny, we're old pals." The voice then quickly changed in pitch and timbre. It was Veld's that responded from Chaos' lips when the WEAPON spoke next. "I could look however you wanted me to."
That got a response, if not as pointed of one as Chaos probably would have liked. Vincent ground his teeth and glared, hissing out a low "Don't you dare."
Lucrecia's giggle turned into Hojo's and then back to Vincent's old snicker. The way the WEAPON changed voices was as simple as changing hats. "Are you certain? God you're so easy to rile. I'm Offering to be nice to you."
He smirked, Chaos wasn't being nice, he didn't do nice and they both knew that by now. It did beg the question how he was wandering about free, however.
"You don't know how to be nice, Chaos." By now Vincent was seething, and his reference to the WEAPON by name only further proved that fact. "You can traipse around in my body all you want--"
The automatic addition of It's as good as yours anyway went unverbalized.
Chaos made a tsk sound. "I'm not stuck in your damn body anymore, Vince. What the hell do I want to leave other people alone for?! Don't be so droll!" He snickered again. "I mean, there's just so much one can do when they can move around on their own accord, you know?"
"You're still bound to it," Vincent replied just as quickly. "If you weren't, you wouldn't be here, and you definitely wouldn't look like you do." His glowing eyes narrowed. "The only reason for you to settle on my original body as the design for this manifestation is to fuck with me, and you wouldn't bother with that if you weren't stuck with me again."
He took a deep breath, staying as steady as he could, as level and as stern. He had worked out quite a bit since Chaos came back, since his talk with Veld. "You can't or you won't do anything to anyone else, or you would have by now. The fear of what you could do can only keep me complacent for so long and you know it. You should have made a move by now, and you haven't. So regardless of how much things have changed, this remains the same.
"You are my monster and mine alone, whether either of us likes it or not."
That earned a snort. "You know, you're the most self important, self righteous, idiot who loathes himself I've ever seen and I'm a fuckton old." Vincent's young face jeered at him. "I'm back because I got shore leave, baby. And you're just so much fun. The world is burning down and life as we all know it is comin to a screeching halt you fatalistic child. You're a toy. I can wind you up and watch you go.
"But mark my words, Valentine. Other than that? You're nothing to me, no longer my prison."
Before Vincent had a chance to respond, something else chose to interject. Something, which had yet to fully make his presence known, save for a floating lantern and a disembodied voice saying "tsk, tsk."
-Vincent next?lsr_summonsOctober 2 2010, 22:23:28 UTC
Chaos snarled in his own voice, not Vincent's old one. It was deep in the summon's chest and reverberated along the rubble. "What do you want, Tonberry? I haven't done anything I wasn't supposed to."
Was he nervous? One couldn't tell. He was pissed off, that was certain.
It wasn't easy, as Vincent's mind was one place he'd never had the best control, but this far he was doing well enough. He held his tongue, as it were, and kept the roiling wash of emotions down as low as he could, drawing once again on habits from the days before Omega, the same practices he'd used to keep Chaos under control during those times when the Protomateria he'd unwittingly harbored in his chest just wasn't enough.
Vincent Valentine knew what he was. He didn't need some monster to tell him. Likewise, however, if that kept the monster from doing anything worse, he could handle that. Keep the WEAPON at bay, just like he used to. It was the purpose for which he'd been reborn, after all.
Vincent Valentine knew what he was, now more than ever. He was, and would always be, a vessel for the end of the world. Nothing more, nothing less, for the rest of eternity.
...This would have been easier to bear if the apocalypse didn't insist on wearing the form of everything Vincent had so irrevocably lost.
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He smirked, Chaos wasn't being nice, he didn't do nice and they both knew that by now. It did beg the question how he was wandering about free, however.
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The automatic addition of It's as good as yours anyway went unverbalized.
"--but leave everyone else out of it."
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He took a deep breath, staying as steady as he could, as level and as stern. He had worked out quite a bit since Chaos came back, since his talk with Veld. "You can't or you won't do anything to anyone else, or you would have by now. The fear of what you could do can only keep me complacent for so long and you know it. You should have made a move by now, and you haven't. So regardless of how much things have changed, this remains the same.
"You are my monster and mine alone, whether either of us likes it or not."
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"But mark my words, Valentine. Other than that? You're nothing to me, no longer my prison."
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Was he nervous? One couldn't tell. He was pissed off, that was certain.
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