InsaneJournal

A Gargoyle in the Night...
Who: Vincent and Katara
What: A Fateful Meeting under a full moon.
When: Day 12 late evening
Where: Near the Barn
Rating: PG
Status: Complete


Vincent Valentine was not there, the following night when Katara came looking for him. The Water bender would see his place rather empty, and perhaps be disturbed to note that it looked almost like the laboratory scene had been. Slightly different of course, as it was a training ground of some kind, but, the same general feel. The walls were steel, the air felt sterile, lifeless. Not like the Forest of the Ancients had been, filled with light and a seeming life, whether it be in the air around them or in the ground. There had been something about that place that had seemed right for Vincent, whereas this was merely... devoid. Of anything. Alas, if the water bender could have known his mood, she would have realized that it reflected it perfectly.

He had left the previous night, and not bothered to return. Now that the next evening had come and gone, Vincent was well aware of the fatigue in his muscles. However he was also aware that there was not nearly what there should have been. The training session he'd had with himself during the midst of the day time had taught him that. Whatever Hojo had done to implant the monsters in his body had also changed this form as well, making it stronger, tougher... but more importantly faster and more agile. Vincent could move now like a master gymnast, and leap as if he were still the galian beast.

And it seemed as strange as these powers were, they were natural talents. They seemed to improve the more he used them, though what help they would be on a planet where Vincent didn't have to worry about killing anyone, he wasn't entirely certain. But if he managed to find a way back to Katara's world, or to his own, they would definately come in handy, as one thing had become clear in Vincent's mind. He had a score to settle with Hojo. Even thinking about it now, made the beast stir slightly inside of himself, but he forced it down.

It was all he had left to look forward to, really, a revenge against the one who had done this to him, the one who had taken everything from him. Vincent still believed that all of this had been deserved by his inaction for helping Lucrecia. But as he thought on it more he realized that if he was going to hell, Hojo deserved to come with him. At one time Vincent hadn't wanted to believe in evil in the world, but now he was somewhat convinced that sometimes... sometimes the Lifestream came together in someone wrong... maybe it was a rare congretation of evil pieces of several people, or maybe it was just something about them that made them twisted... Vincent could only hope for the latter, as killing Hojo might redistribute that back into the Lifestream to go into another...

Feeling the hour was near midnight, Vincent turned in the direction of where his room had been, or was, depending on how one looked at it. Katara still had the key to get in, but Vincent didn't really care. He didn't imagine that he'd be back there unless there were dire circumstances for it. He perhaps should have left a note for the water bender, something to say goodbye. But there would be time enough for that when he found the way back to her own home world, to where she could be with the one she wanted to be.

A dull ache filled Vincent as he thought about it, and his black gloved hand raised up to clech at the fabric of his dark shirt which covered his chest, and was in turn covered itself by the long mantle that he wore. Thinking about Katara still, hurt. Badly.

With a soft growl he leapt up on top of the building that he was walking past, flying through the air as if he were almost weightless, his feet coming down to land on the slanted tiles of the Barn as if he were a mountain goat, for there was no wobble in his balance as he planted, only a cold glance around to make sure he was the only one on up so high. Not that he really expected there would be someone stalking him, but he'd learned to be cautious over the years, and the last time he'd forgotten to be, Hojo had shot him.

Walking numbly towards the top of the roof he perched at the peak of it, near the edge of the building, staring out into the darkness, his eyes scanning desperately for some type of a portal, some way back. The sooner he did that, the sooner he could find Katara's portal and forget about her, drown himself in his own revenge and let it consume him like an angry blaze gone out of control.

As the soft wind brushed past his cheek he bowed his head into the folds of his mantle. The way it tickled his skin reminded him of the gentle way Katara had touched his face, how her fingers had entwined in his long raven hair. The smell of her skin so close to him... the feeling of her soft lips pressed against his own. It was all in his head, but he felt a warmth there, a soft glow of rememberance of what had been, of what might be, if things had turned out differently. But to go down that path was madness, to let himself fall into a land of fantasies about a girl he could never have.

The cool night air kicked up then and Vincent's cloak swept around the back of him, flying in the breeze. He leaned over the edge of the roof, his left hand, covered in the golden claw that he wore, gripping it tightly, his body crouched over the edge of it like a gargoyle looking out into the night.