Desert Fun...sort of [Front Lines - Closed]
((SUMMARY: Where has Vincent been? He's been on the front lines for a long, long time. What has he been doing? Killing things, as it should be. When will he ever associate with mankind? Probably never... this is Vincent.))
There was an apparent reason why the front lines were avoided by people who wished to keep their lives. It was a place where lives were stolen, dreams of a future crushed, and the overwhelming stench of impending defeat could depress even the most optimistic fighter. On the front lines, the enemy was great, and it had the advantage in every battle. The worst part was… the enemy knew it too.
Would-be heroes had long since been crushed and their supposedly fearless hearts stolen to be ultimately recruited to be the enemy. The worlds that comprised the front lines seemed desolate, unassuming from a distance, yet once someone or something that was not Heartless stepped foot, all hell would break lose until the unassuming would become the greatest nightmare.
Vincent was not yet moved by the hopelessness of the situation, mostly due to the fact that he started off aware that there was little to no hope to latch onto. He had walked onto the half desert planet knowing that he may and probably would lose his life in an abstract suicide mission to fulfill a dream and a promise that still rested heavily on his shoulders. He had never thought that there would be anything but death waiting for him on whatever endeavour he decided he would stupidly undergo.
Clutching the Death penalty in one hand and a spare hand gun in the other, he merely waited for the next wave of attack. Being desert, he could see it coming towards him like a black wave of despair that sought to swallow his already tainted heart up. The small patch forest at his back had once been the source of many battles, but he and Ginji had done well to clean it out for refuge and to keep a strong line at their backs where the enemy would have enough trouble navigating to manage a strike. He was technically the front line of defence as the Heartless came from the desert lands that surrounded their little refuge, and it would have made a quant little party had the Heartless been invited.
He did recognize that they were running out of supplies, and if possible, they would have to return back to a normal planet just to refuel and gather more supplies that would allow for such a place to be ‘shown the light’, so to speak. He didn’t know where Ginji had gone, but he suspected his companion was off in the forest somewhere on a patrol to see if Heartless were coming at their rear.
Meanwhile, Vincent stood rather bored waiting, tapping his hand gun on his belted thigh. He could probably just sleep on his feet and be alright, but he didn’t bother. Instead, he tucked his handgun away and reached around back to one of the many pockets attached to his hip, pulling free a sizeable novel. Crouching down, he flipped it open to the appropriate page and stood again, now simply leaning on the Death penalty as he began to read where he had left off.
And she did so want to him again, lost in the love of the moment, her heart fluttering at the mere thought of his sleek form moving through rows of the enemy just to save her. She clasped her hands together and prayed hard to any god or goddess that would listen to her plea, crying out praises to her dearest love. She knew he would come to her, and they would make passionate love under the moonlight. She would know all of his glory in that single moment….
Vincent pulled himself away from the rather pitiful book, the only one he could find in the gummi ship to peer across the sandy dunes for signs that their enemy was fast approaching. The wave looked just as large as when he checked last, and he could not yet make out actual Heartless eyes, so there was no point in wasting a bullet just yet.
Instead, he went back to reading, and he was attempting to determine what mad-man wrote such rubbish and managed to sell it. Love was not like these novels, but a much more delicate fibre of one’s being. It could put a man on strings and make him dance like a puppet, or call his soul to cry for vengeance against any who brought harm…
He coughed a little and pushed a strand of dark hair from his eyes. He had obviously been reading this novel too much as he was getting wishy-washy in his old age. He much have not been able to find any new entertainment, though Ginji’s electrical tricks (if they could be called that) did keep him relatively amused for an hour or two. He really needed to find a new hobby on this place, as all of his skills were completely up-to-date again with nothing else to do but hold the line and wait for the wave of assaults on them.
Vincent read for another hour before tucking his book away again, growing more disinterested in that than waiting for the wave of Heartless. He could pick out minor details of the large group moving in his direction, and he fluttered his cloak a little while he waited, having come to the conclusion that while intimidating, he could flutter his deep red tattered cloak in such a way that it had to look… cool? At least he hadn’t taken to singing.
With the Heartless finally coming into the range of his weapon, Vincent raised it and took precise aim on certain Heartless, those considered more intelligent than just the foot soldiers. Those were the first to take out, and he worked his way down the line of intelligence until all that were left were those Heartless that were completely in his range and required his handgun or were not worth the bullet to destroy.
He jumped up into the air over the lingering herd and pulled his cloak up and around his form, disappearing in a flash of red material. A technique recently discovered that was aided by the power of flight or minor levitation, he bounded and jumped through the collection of Heartless, his cloak masking his form so the Heartless were confused and unable to land a proper hit on anything but his cloak. The throwing knives he kept upon his thigh lashed out when he allowed himself to be brought into range, cutting through the quickly dwindling numbers before he leapt up out of range again and then returning to finish off whatever small horde remained clawing at him.
Much more quickly than they had come, Vincent twisted his form and he set his feet back down on the blackened sand, his cloak returning to normal and simply flowing in the light breeze. Holstering his handgun after refilling the ammunition, he stood in the sudden silence and sighed heavily. He should feel accomplished for living so long on such a horrible little planet, but he knew there was too much work to be done to allow such minor battles even weigh on his mind.
He had to wonder how many people had unwittingly given their lives on this planet, how many villages had been cleaned out by a single Heartless moving through the area. Most common people had little idea how to fight, and they were often terrified by the sight of a Heartless, leaving them vulnerable. He and Ginji were not so affected, and even Chaos which normally hounded his mind had gone strangely silent when he battled. For once, they were united.
There was an apparent reason why the front lines were avoided by people who wished to keep their lives. It was a place where lives were stolen, dreams of a future crushed, and the overwhelming stench of impending defeat could depress even the most optimistic fighter. On the front lines, the enemy was great, and it had the advantage in every battle. The worst part was… the enemy knew it too.
Would-be heroes had long since been crushed and their supposedly fearless hearts stolen to be ultimately recruited to be the enemy. The worlds that comprised the front lines seemed desolate, unassuming from a distance, yet once someone or something that was not Heartless stepped foot, all hell would break lose until the unassuming would become the greatest nightmare.
Vincent was not yet moved by the hopelessness of the situation, mostly due to the fact that he started off aware that there was little to no hope to latch onto. He had walked onto the half desert planet knowing that he may and probably would lose his life in an abstract suicide mission to fulfill a dream and a promise that still rested heavily on his shoulders. He had never thought that there would be anything but death waiting for him on whatever endeavour he decided he would stupidly undergo.
Clutching the Death penalty in one hand and a spare hand gun in the other, he merely waited for the next wave of attack. Being desert, he could see it coming towards him like a black wave of despair that sought to swallow his already tainted heart up. The small patch forest at his back had once been the source of many battles, but he and Ginji had done well to clean it out for refuge and to keep a strong line at their backs where the enemy would have enough trouble navigating to manage a strike. He was technically the front line of defence as the Heartless came from the desert lands that surrounded their little refuge, and it would have made a quant little party had the Heartless been invited.
He did recognize that they were running out of supplies, and if possible, they would have to return back to a normal planet just to refuel and gather more supplies that would allow for such a place to be ‘shown the light’, so to speak. He didn’t know where Ginji had gone, but he suspected his companion was off in the forest somewhere on a patrol to see if Heartless were coming at their rear.
Meanwhile, Vincent stood rather bored waiting, tapping his hand gun on his belted thigh. He could probably just sleep on his feet and be alright, but he didn’t bother. Instead, he tucked his handgun away and reached around back to one of the many pockets attached to his hip, pulling free a sizeable novel. Crouching down, he flipped it open to the appropriate page and stood again, now simply leaning on the Death penalty as he began to read where he had left off.
And she did so want to him again, lost in the love of the moment, her heart fluttering at the mere thought of his sleek form moving through rows of the enemy just to save her. She clasped her hands together and prayed hard to any god or goddess that would listen to her plea, crying out praises to her dearest love. She knew he would come to her, and they would make passionate love under the moonlight. She would know all of his glory in that single moment….
Vincent pulled himself away from the rather pitiful book, the only one he could find in the gummi ship to peer across the sandy dunes for signs that their enemy was fast approaching. The wave looked just as large as when he checked last, and he could not yet make out actual Heartless eyes, so there was no point in wasting a bullet just yet.
Instead, he went back to reading, and he was attempting to determine what mad-man wrote such rubbish and managed to sell it. Love was not like these novels, but a much more delicate fibre of one’s being. It could put a man on strings and make him dance like a puppet, or call his soul to cry for vengeance against any who brought harm…
He coughed a little and pushed a strand of dark hair from his eyes. He had obviously been reading this novel too much as he was getting wishy-washy in his old age. He much have not been able to find any new entertainment, though Ginji’s electrical tricks (if they could be called that) did keep him relatively amused for an hour or two. He really needed to find a new hobby on this place, as all of his skills were completely up-to-date again with nothing else to do but hold the line and wait for the wave of assaults on them.
Vincent read for another hour before tucking his book away again, growing more disinterested in that than waiting for the wave of Heartless. He could pick out minor details of the large group moving in his direction, and he fluttered his cloak a little while he waited, having come to the conclusion that while intimidating, he could flutter his deep red tattered cloak in such a way that it had to look… cool? At least he hadn’t taken to singing.
With the Heartless finally coming into the range of his weapon, Vincent raised it and took precise aim on certain Heartless, those considered more intelligent than just the foot soldiers. Those were the first to take out, and he worked his way down the line of intelligence until all that were left were those Heartless that were completely in his range and required his handgun or were not worth the bullet to destroy.
He jumped up into the air over the lingering herd and pulled his cloak up and around his form, disappearing in a flash of red material. A technique recently discovered that was aided by the power of flight or minor levitation, he bounded and jumped through the collection of Heartless, his cloak masking his form so the Heartless were confused and unable to land a proper hit on anything but his cloak. The throwing knives he kept upon his thigh lashed out when he allowed himself to be brought into range, cutting through the quickly dwindling numbers before he leapt up out of range again and then returning to finish off whatever small horde remained clawing at him.
Much more quickly than they had come, Vincent twisted his form and he set his feet back down on the blackened sand, his cloak returning to normal and simply flowing in the light breeze. Holstering his handgun after refilling the ammunition, he stood in the sudden silence and sighed heavily. He should feel accomplished for living so long on such a horrible little planet, but he knew there was too much work to be done to allow such minor battles even weigh on his mind.
He had to wonder how many people had unwittingly given their lives on this planet, how many villages had been cleaned out by a single Heartless moving through the area. Most common people had little idea how to fight, and they were often terrified by the sight of a Heartless, leaving them vulnerable. He and Ginji were not so affected, and even Chaos which normally hounded his mind had gone strangely silent when he battled. For once, they were united.