In the back by the lake, a solitary figure perches on a tree branch overlooking the water. The very last rays of light ripple off it; they could easily mesmerize if he let them do so
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It's almost too late for Ingress to be outside, but she's practically a Herald, and Mr. Julia is right there in the water, keeping and eye on her.
"Oh, hello, Vincent," she says, as she walks along the shore. She's in her grays. That's what she usually wears when she's going back and forth to Haven.
It's his standard greeting: not particularly friendly or effusive, but he does reserve it for those he considers... friends, or friends of a sort. No one else merits his attention.
"Ingress. Hello. You are well tonight?"
She looks... older, somehow, and a small pang grabs his midsection. He misses those he knows at home.
Years of training cause him to tense and in a flash, the gun he wears on his hip is drawn and pointed. But... it is only Yrael, in cat-form; he lowers Cerberus slowly.
"Yrael."
Old instincts die very hard, and he hopes his... friend doesn't insist on being petted.
He won't. Yrael is very good at spotting lost causes. (Though sometimes he still tries to convert them, if he's feeling particularly contrary. Lucky for Vincent, he doesn't feel like it, today.)
"Vincent," Yrael replies, comfortably, unruffled by having a rather impressive gun pulled on him. It's not the first time Vincent has pointed it at him.
"One never knows who or what might approach out here." Checking that Cerberus is safely holstered, he drops his right hand to his side.
"Particularly at this time of night." His eyes move from the white cat to the tree in the background with the flowers planted around it. He... is not the gardener Lucrecia is -- was -- but he's managed to keep them alive.
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"Oh, hello, Vincent," she says, as she walks along the shore. She's in her grays. That's what she usually wears when she's going back and forth to Haven.
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It's his standard greeting: not particularly friendly or effusive, but he does reserve it for those he considers... friends, or friends of a sort. No one else merits his attention.
"Ingress. Hello. You are well tonight?"
She looks... older, somehow, and a small pang grabs his midsection. He misses those he knows at home.
Reply
She picks up a pebble and skims it across the water. Or tries to. It sinks after one skip.
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"I could teach you to do that. If you like."
His intention is not to insult, merely to offer the tiniest bit of assistance. However, if she says no, he won't take offense.
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It may settle next to his right ankle.
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"Yrael."
Old instincts die very hard, and he hopes his... friend doesn't insist on being petted.
Reply
"Vincent," Yrael replies, comfortably, unruffled by having a rather impressive gun pulled on him. It's not the first time Vincent has pointed it at him.
Reply
"Particularly at this time of night." His eyes move from the white cat to the tree in the background with the flowers planted around it. He... is not the gardener Lucrecia is -- was -- but he's managed to keep them alive.
So far.
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