OPEN RP POST SIX

[formidable]

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[bloodvials]

[...Ah, well. Called out or no, she's turned it around and made it into a sincere sort of flattery, and that is something that Vincent reacts to. Mostly by pushing his look forward once more as they walk, snow crunching beneath boot.]

I could say the same, I suppose. [His human sensibilities were once very skewed towards propriety, not counting the times Vincent was cut in the color of blood during his hunt. During the endless dreaming and waking and nightmares. His old life -- so long ago, it feels -- still lives with him, like a dead carcass that sometimes stirs.]

I do like your levity, though, don't mistake my comment for otherwise. Like wisps of clouds marching around your body, while the rest of you is made of stone.

[But the eldritch part of him makes him say things the human side never would. Two halves intermingling and making him strange to speak with, even stranger to be around. Like the world tilts just a little too sharply on an incline, being near Vincent.]

Whatever we find here, it'll likely be sleeping. These things usually are.

[nerine]

[She's started to notice the strangeness of his speech now that they are outside the warmth of the cafe. That inhuman side lingering beneath the surface seems to expose itself more when out in the chill of this wintry place. Monts finds that she doesn't mind it although her whole being is on alert. As for her...?

... She doesn't know.

Is she thinking with her body or with her mind?

The thought troubles her. She continues to speak trying not to sink into self-consciousness.]

Do you think you're "sleeping" right now in a sense? Since we established before that you aren't supposed to be in a human body, but something not that pretty.

[With a comment like that, she's the same as ever.

Is she? A cloud of doubt looms like the darkness of the sky above them.]

... You know, I wanted to talk with you more outside of my usual place because... I thought you might understand where I'm coming from.

Neither of us is what we appear and... I don't know. [There's an uncharacteristic sigh of frustration.] I've started thinking about this ever since I met you and how... I talk about how I'm separate from what's inside me, but recently I've been thinking that's not the case.

[bloodvials]

[Is he asleep? The part of him that isn't human. The whole of him, really, as it should be -- this body should only be a shell, but a human form begets human tendencies. Begets human thought. Wearing old skin is still strangely comfortable, even if he knows it's far too small for what he had become.

Her question would be strange to any other man. Not to Vincent.]

I don't know. I should be sleeping, in my faraway dream. But I still feel present here. Awake in this form, very much aware of time flowing in one direction. And you don't know what I'm supposed to look like; maybe I'm very "pretty" regardless.

[He's a baby slug, so probably not. Still, he looks at her again, over the rise of his high collar.]

So... you mean you do not think you're asleep, either? That you're whole as you are?

[nerine]

Something... Something like that.

[There's a pause. There are many lampposts that line the path they're on, leading to a bridge and they flicker as if they're some sort of muted form of life. The uneven light creates patterns across her face.]

... Twice.

[Marianna's eyes darken as she turns her back to Vincent to lean her arms against the iron railing staring into the black water. She can't see her reflection.]

I've "died" twice, I'm sure of it. But I end up whole again because I... It... "We..."

... Whatever I am, I know I just don't like pain. I won't ever die. I'm not a taker, but I know I'd take a life if it meant I would keep existing.

[Because the "flower" has attached itself to this skin, it is fiercely protective of it. By itself, it would not have any strength or means to wholly exist. For the longest time, Marianna Medina would call it a separate creature. The line between "Flower" and "Marianna" is supposed to be crystal clear. Now she's frozen in the face of the realization that she stands there, a combination of two very wrong things.]

So it's not a matter of whether I'm awake or not. I think I've been in denial and still am. [She takes another deep breath and the air she creates disappears into the night.]

This is the most honest I've ever been, you know? Because knowing what you are beneath the surface, I don't think I would have been able to keep it to myself for long.

[bloodvials]

[He stops at the crest of the bridge, just looking at her back as she stands against the railing, cast against uneven shadow. Vincent’s brow pinches, and he allows himself a slow exhale — fogged breath coils up, reaching just above his hat before it disappears into the night air.]

It hardly sounds much like denial to me, Miss Monts. It appears that you know exactly what you are — just afraid to accept it.

[He steps forward, pressing gloved hands against the railing, peering down into dark water. His own reflection is just a blearily half-formed thing staring back up at him.]

In any case, some say Great Ones are purveyors of truth. The deepest, most unnatural kind. Careful you don’t spend too long in my presence else you go mad.

[He looks at her, offering a small smile; his turn at levity, or some attempt at it.]

What’s so wrong about being what you are? Other than I’m not sure that half of you likes me very much.

[nerine]

... I don't know if it's wrong.

[Blue-green eyes look back at Vincent before one gloved hand idly reaches up to remove some snow from the side of his face.]

It just feels lonely I guess. Is it possible I'm already just crazy by following you around?

[bloodvials]

Following me around? You’re the one dragging me to and fro, you understand.

[He moves the clasp gloved hands behind his back, faintly smiling, but with faraway consideration. The admission of loneliness is a heavy one, for a singular person in a vast universe — relating to no one or nothing.

Vincent wonders if he should feel that way, too, or if his mind is too vast of a thing to care any longer. The human part of him, maybe, could relate better.]

You’re not alone. The universe is large, and there are many like you. Like us.

[A beat.]

Do you seek others like yourself? Would you want to? Barring me, of course; I was just strange coincidence.

[nerine]

Seeking out others... No, I don't think so.

[She waves dismissively at the thought.]

If anything, I end up being a magnet for trouble.

[bloodvials]

Hardly bodes well for this little venture, then, does it?

[Lifting a brow.]

[nerine]

Well, it explains how you first met me, hasn't it?

[But before she can blatantly flirt some more, the bridge trembles beneath their feet and the murky black waters ripple. From far, far away, there is a roar akin to a loud foghorn mixed with that of an incomprehensible beast that completely fills the air. Monts is taken aback at the sound and at the sensation, it creates throughout her whole body. The lampposts flicker as the road continues for another good minute and it nearly extinguishes their light.]

... I've spoken too soon, haven't I?

[bloodvials]

[The instincts of his old body kick in when the earth trembles beneath his feet. Vincent loses the proper stance of a gentleman and shifts into something more coiled, gloved fingers flexing but not quite reaching for the blade hitched to his back.]

What calls you here—

[He glances up at a flickering lamppost overhead, casting paroxysms of light and shadow across their features as the ground groans in protest.]

—stirs. I wonder if it’s you or I that happens to be doing the waking.

[He shoots a glance down the street, to see the reactions of the people of this city. That would be telling enough.]

[nerine]

[There's a scurry among the populace as they hurry into any nearby buildings and homes. Doors are shut and the sound of wood and metal echoes throughout the night. The lamps and the two of them are what remain in a world of snow and fading light. Monts grits her teeth and then purses her lips.]

I think this is a regular thing. The people here, they're scared. They're always scared and...

[Another foghorn roar. Monts rests her forehead in one of her hands as if she's suffering a splitting headache.]

It's like... A song? But it sounds awful. If I'm like this, I can't—

[She swears under her breath in Spanish and as the roar around them continues, dark and smoky tendrils appear across her face, akin to spider legs or diseased looking veins. With another shuddery breath, she collects herself, but looks at Vincent apologetically.]

—Never mind. I can deal with it.

[bloodvials]

[The sound swells in his ears, vibrates along the marrow of his bones. But it doesn’t hurt, doesn’t make him squirm, doesn’t affect him like it’s affecting Monts. It isn’t calling to him, he doesn’t think — doesn’t latch its sonorous tendrils into Vincent the same way it’s doing to her.

He steps forward, almost concerned, almost protective. But there’s no need, made clear when she straightens and her features have changed. Tendrils of black crawling along skin.

Closer to what she really is, Vincent muses. The glamour of pure humanity ebbing in the presence of whatever was making the world shake.]

Are you certain? Whatever this is... I think it’s seeking you. Not I. I don’t feel a tug and pull, nor does its song appeal to me. Just to groaning of an ancient thing, nothing more.

...will you be all right?

[nerine]

I'll be...

[Her eyes have turned black with no trace of the serene blue-green left. The darkness on her body is tinged with scarlet.]

... It can't take me. It won't. This song isn't for me. It sings for others. I hear more clearly, I hear it for what it is.

[When the Flower is at the forefront, her speech mirror's Vincent's, vague and cryptic.]

[In the distance outside of the city where it's mostly a frozen hellscape, something else is whipping up a storm. Snow flies everywhere in a wave of white as an ominous crowd marches its way toward the city and consequently towards the bridge they're standing on.]

Them. Pitiful. They play to its tune. But they never rest...

... Where shall we go?

[bloodvials]

I feel sorry for them.

[Humans are below Great Ones. Small, barely-there creatures, just dust in the grand make of the universe. But the Great Ones are sympathetic, and Vincent, who wishes to guide humanity when he can, can only feel sympathy instead of disdain.]

I say we aim for the song itself. In the distance, that awful snow storm.

[The crowd approaches, but Vincent is unmoving for now.]

If we’re fortunate, we might can even say hello.

[nerine]

[The closer the army of winter creatures approaches, the clearer the two can make out their features even through the veil of frost. Ribs poke out, faces or the lack thereof, are gaunt and empty. There's even a group commandeering a sleigh of what looks to be undead reindeer. That get's her notice first.]

Then let's make our way smoothly. If we're on foot, the delay will be irritating.

[There are parts of her original personality, practical yet playful, that still stand out even though the Flower is in charge. She points to the sleigh.]

There. How far is your reach?

[bloodvials]

[He reaches for the blade at his back, snow crunching as he faces the approaching horde. Unflattering, at best, but far from the worst he’s ever seen.

Almost amusing, the sleigh, if not trite.]

The human kind? Or the other sort?

[nerine]

Don't be coy now. That's my job.

[A blurred line indeed.]

After all, I already know you're dangerous.

[bloodvials]

[A dry scoff, a very human reaction to that remark.]

Everyone is dangerous, Miss Monts. With the right application of force.

[Blade unsheathed, but with a toss of the wrist the trick weapon seems to split itself wide, forming what can only be described as reminiscent of a bow. And arrow forms in his hand as Vincent draws it taut, shivering with paleblood.

He sends it flying towards one of the undead creatures, directly towards its head.]

Let’s do it the old fashioned way.

[nerine]

[His arrow finds its mark and the creature is down. A collective screech is heard and they begin to focus on the two unwelcome creatures before them, strangers to this world.

Monts moves behind Vincent, her body language tense and cautious. One on one, she stands a chance, she can survive. This? Not so much.]

I'll hit if I have to. I am a weapon. But I'm not like you. You've done this before.

[bloodvials]

I have. And in far worse circumstances; Yharnam was more dangerous than this lot.

[Another arrow, two, three, all flying and hitting their mark from a distance. But Vincent then reverts his blade back to its sword-like form, the metal singing for blood.

He has done this before. This ragged bunch of wintry creatures is nothing, and he knows he can rely upon the muscles memory of this body to cut them down, one by one. Like the beasts from his old life; like kin, like elder Great Ones.

Vincent says nothing else, he merely rushes forward in a swoop of long black coat whipping behind him, meeting the crowd head-on once the distance is closed. He's quick, his cuts are fast and brutal; it's like a dance, it's such a practiced thing.

And his presence, in close proximity with these new enemies, well. It's likely a little disorienting for them, faced with something that's not quite a man any longer. That possesses the scent of the great wide universe and everything beautiful and terrible within it.]

[nerine]

[She watches Vincent as their prey falls victim to his blade, her own heart racing despite the unearthly serenity she gains from her flower. Taking a few steps back, Marianna makes some effort to gracefully be unobtrusive, but of course, there is the inevitable straggler or two that dodge Vincent and target her, trying to grab her.

Several splashes into the dark waters below them occur in succession. For her, it's like tossing rag dolls into the trash. Their weight barely registers. There's another corpse, reaching for her neck.

It finds itself at the mercy of her palm and in a split second, a crackling sound of a skull being crushed barely pierces the night.

This causes some of the creatures to hesitate, but they're more than likely to be ended by Vincent soon.]

[bloodvials]

[He takes no injury, adorns his outfit with no paleblood of his own. Instead, Vincent cuts them down as if they were reeds in the wind, and they crumble beneath his blade. He lifts his eyes just in time to see Mont's own power, crushing a creature's skull as it falls to her feet.

Felling the rest is easy. They're slow compared to what he's used to. And when they're dead, the last one sliced across the back and throat, it falls close to where she stands.

Vincent straightens, air expelled from his lungs seen in the cold night.]

Corpses drained dry. Not much of a threat at all. Your power, though-

[He asks, curious while hitching his blade to his back again.]

-I wonder if you even needed me to begin with?

[nerine]

[Her smile, that disarmingly pretty and friendly smile, spreads across her features and contrasting against the dark tendrils that cover her face.]

Clean up— [There's a sickening crunch underneath the heal of her boot as she deliberately steps on another skull of a felled corpse.]

— Is more fun with a companion.

I'm quick when I need to be. But this body was not meant for doing the same as you do. It is enhanced, not invisible.

[She hums under her breath and the red pupils in her black eyes glitter like gems under the lamplight.]

You on the other hand... Yes. Yes, you're very... Potent.

[bloodvials]

[That is a disarming smile, more so than usual -- maybe it's the Flower, maybe it's the power granted by it. Maybe it's the skull being crushed under her heel. Hard to say, but the violent gesture means nothing to him. He doesn't even look down; their victims, they're not human, not any longer.]

I'm hardly infallible. Even in my other form. Maybe even especially then.

[He's young, and Great Ones have been sought after and slain before. Beyond the protection of the Hunter's Workshop, maybe it's a strange boon that he's been given a human body again.

His eyes linger on hers.]

"Potent"? In what way?

[Monts......stop yourself............]