[Vincent tried writing an apology. He really did. He's not very good at writing, but it would be easier to deliver than anything verbal. But no matter what he did, he couldn't make it sound right ( Read more... )

--e had a good reason to scream, don't you think? Good reason to be disgusted, good reason to hate what you are.

[The voice is eerily similar to Vincent's, but there's a note of difference to it. It's...a little higher, maybe, less of a rumble, less of a whisper. Anyone who spoke to Vincent at the masquerade will recognize it as what he would ( Read more... )

[Vincent is drunk. Properly and sincerely, for the first time in thirty-two years. He's sitting up on deck two, in the pleasant--if artificial--midday sun, with a bottle of something ridiculously high proof in one hand and another sitting next to him on the deck, with his legs hanging over the side of the ship and a cigarette in his mouth. He's ( Read more... )

The strange thing about time, on this ship, is how little it seems to matter. To anyone. Whether it has an effect or not, whether anyone even realizes how long or short a span it's been, things here continue on the same as they have since Jennifer was defeated.

[In the background there's a low clap of thunder and something that sounds ( Read more... )

Tseng.

[That doesn't sound like Vincent at all, in spite of being broadcast under his userID.]

Your charge from SCIENTIFIC Research has fainted.

[Those familiar with what this sounds like--hello, Chaos--are likely to be confused by the bizarre lucidity in that layered mess of echoing voices. If anything, he sounds...sad.]

You may want to tend ( Read more... )

[Vincent has been a little wary to speak over the network the last few days--both because he's a mess and because he's not completely comfortable with his ex-girlfriend hearing his voice. Nonetheless, today he's actually forayed out into the ship to replenish his supply of the tea from the buffet. You know, the awful too-sweet stuff no one else ( Read more... )

[It's been three days since Lucrecia showed up, three days since Veld met Chaos. Vincent has spent the majority of time laying down in Veld's room being almost entirely unresponsive. Hearing Redd shout his name over the network wakes him up, at least partially, and he rolls over in bed ( Read more... )

[Vincent's transmission starts in silence, and continues that way for several seconds. Then:]

Someone tell me about Nirvana. The shop.

[He's reading one of those little-used ship brochures from the inoperative information desk on deck ten. The shop gets a mention, and he's curious.]I've been there, so I understand the gist, but it was during ( Read more... )

[This particular transmission starts in the middle of a rather pronounced coughing fit; anyone listening can hear things being knocked down, Vincent stumbling a little as he grabs onto something for support. There's a quiet whoosh, then a click--and then quite suddenly to transmission is set to video! It's sideways, and from a couple feet away, ( Read more... )

[text; strikes deleted]

Miss Isabella dela Vega,

I would like to offer my most sincere apologies for Chaos' my attempt on your life.

In the future, should you be told to vacate the premises by an emotionally unstable overloaded distraught WEAPON monster demon demigod, it would most likely be in your best interests to do so ( Read more... )