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 Posted: Mon Dec 25, 2006 8:40 am
 He sits, and he stares. Broken and alone, withered and tortured and having no idea why; he can't remember his past, he can't foresee his future. He is utterly alone in the present, lost and confused and unknowing how to rid himself of the turmoil that wracks him, the pain that courses through every nerve of his body every moment of the day, and the voices, the screaming, feral voices racketeering inside his head. He knows it is not supposed to be like this, but he knows, he understands for reasons he cannot explain, that it is supposed to be like this. This is his punishment. This is his destiny, to atone for a life he cannot hope to remember.
Vincent stops, sagging visibly as he comes to a ledge, peering down over the side of the mountain. This is where his roaming through the forest has led him; gazing down the jagged rocks and lush trees far below, staring numbly out over a foggy horizon that should be beautiful, yet he feels nothing for it at all. He is not sad - he is simply numb. Numb to everything except the acute pain... and the wanderings of his mind.
He shivers unconsciously, dipping his head and burying it under the top of his cloak; she springs to mind again, taunting him, making the voices laugh at him. He has met others, but none of them affect him so greatly. Why does this one? Why does she plague his thoughts? It isn't affection, it isn't love, it isn't even necessarily liking, yet she is there, clinging to his mind and refusing to let go, reminding him of things he does not want to be reminded of yet cannot help but wonder about.
Lucrecia... Lucrecia Crescent.
Even the name, the simple name makes his ears flatten and his hair stand on end. He cannot tell if it is fascination or loathing; he does not know if he should crave her company or rip her apart. She was so kind, so... compassionate, to something as wicked and disgusting as himself, yet there is something in her that inspires such a great fear it causes him to lower himself to the ground, resting his head on the cool dirt as he stares blankly out at the scene before him.
Who is she? Why does she stay so embedded in his thoughts? And why does he care so much about a creature he barely knows, and may very well never see again?
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Posted: Mon Dec 25, 2006 3:15 pm
 Lucrecia was somewhere down below, maybe in view of the baffled and confused Vincent. She'd left abruptly for reasons of her own from their last meeting; he had done something to her just as she had done to him and she had only sought solitude to try and clear her thoughts. How long has it been? Maybe a few days; she'd lost track. She had managed to relax over those days and now she was sitting amongst a batch of flowers that had managed to survive through the winter. Their scent was calm and fulfilling and in a way, like a scented lullaby.
She closes her eyes as she lowers her head down to nuzzle along them, letting their aroma fill her senses. It was a beautiful combination of winter air and flowers, and they also helped to keep her mind off things. She couldn't wander far from it though -- it's still in the back of her head, lurking like a monster waiting to pounce; it just needed its moment. Of course she hadn't forgotten about Vincent. How could someone forget that? He was so different from everyone else, so complex, and so alone. She could see it in the way he walked, the way he talked, and in his eyes; he was alone and tormented, and sh eknew that, in some way, she had made it all that much worse for him.
Further down she lowers herself into the bed of cold flowers, shivering slightly but then relaxing in any case. She lets her thoughts drift, trying to keep him out but it's hard to forget things like that.
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Posted: Tue Dec 26, 2006 8:56 pm
He sees something out of the corner of his eye; a splash of colour amongst the gentle, downy blur of things below. He ignores it at first, eyes lifting instead to gaze up at the sky, taking in everything with an uncaring, empty gaze. His thoughts are elsewhere, far from his surroundings, far from the freezing cold or the slight grumbling in his belly. Yes, he feels hunger - but when was the last time he ate? He cannot even remember now; it doesn't matter to him, nothing matters to him, except the echoes of memories and the thoughts that whisper in his mind of the one that will not leave it.
Vincent's eyes turn down, finally, and widen at the sight below. It is hard to tell, of course - he is a ways up, but not so far that she is completely obscured. Not so far that he cannot recognise the coat on her back, or the long hair tied at the top of her head. Not so far that he cannot recognise this female that he has met only once and yet remembers as though he has known his entire life. This female he neither understands nor wishes to, yet cannot help but think about, dream about, obsess about! Who is she? What is she?!
He pushes himself up, and moves to the edge of the cliff; he gazes below, then hops deftly, landing on a small outcropping. Quickly he pounces to another as the rock crumbles beneath him, then another, dropping silently to the ground. Vincent settles there, then, creeping forward through the brush and the long grass, hiding some distance away - but close enough that he can see her, that he can hear her. Perhaps close enough that she could scent him if the wind blew the right way - but what does he care? That he will scare her? Hah - she has probably forgotten him, will be terrified of him anyway. What will he care? At least then, perhaps, it will put to rest this strange obsession, this strange desire to... to know.
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Posted: Wed Dec 27, 2006 11:02 am
She had once been of no spectacular creation; another being simply pushed by natural drives and desires, another creature that lived just like any other. Things had ultimately changed, things that once were forgotten but may slowly be pouring back. Back then she may never have noticed the approach of someone like Vincent who could creep so silently through the grass, but things had changed for her; she wasn't just ordinary anymore. He would get noticed and she jerks her head up, her body following as she turns swiftly, hair, coat, and tails following through with this quick motion as she looks in his direction.
Shock is the first thing that comes to her mind. She hadn't expected him to show up again, let alone so soon afterwards. To approach her even is all that more surprising and this is clearly readable upon her face as she stares at him. What she had hoped to forget came rushing back to her and she recoils out of fear of that more than fear of him. Her voice is not entirely lost though as she finds both the courage and ability to speak.
"Hello Vincent Valentine." Her words are low but loud enough to be heard, but she has turned her head away from him; something does not want her to look at him, some pain.
"I'm surprised to see you again. I didn't think we would ever meet again."
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