OPEN MUSEBOX POST (SINGULARITY SETTING)

[just_desserts]

[ HEY KIDS so whatever you were doing before, you're now on Sacrosanct. Maybe you've been here for a week and have settled into one of the empty buildings, scouting for other life or activity over the network. Maybe you've just crashlanded in the Junkyard and are still reeling from Hypatia's explanations and a lovely chemical shower. Maybe you've been here for a while now and know what's up and enjoy giving fresh meat a hard time.

Have at. ]

Comments

[diabolus]

[ Well, guess what, motherfucker. TODAY'S YOUR NOT SO LUCKY DAY.

The memory of Purgatorium feels an eternity away, just out of Vincent's reach, locked so far back into his mind that he's nearly forgotten any of it happened at all. He tries to wipe the heavy cobwebs from his brain, tries to remember anything aside from the pain in his chest and the memory of not remembering anything at all, but all he gets is static and silence, his palms slick with sweat, dark hair pushed from his forehead.

Vincent's propped up against a wall, and all he wants to do is sleep so he can dream those dreams he can't remember once more -- just one last time, he swears -- but then he sees that man.

The man is tall and dark and leaner than he has any right to be, his back turned to Vincent, polished black shoes scraping rhythmically across the concrete as he walks. Vincent's mouth hangs half open before he presses his lips together and squints, and he stares at him as if he expects the man to stop, to turn around, to fucking look at him, goddamnit, but he never does. He keeps walking.

And walking. And walking.

And. ]

You. [ The word falls from his mouth on a raspy whisper as Vincent shoves an elbow to the wall behind him, staggering forward before he catches himself on a nearby bench. ] You.

[ The man doesn't hear him. How could he?

Somehow, Vincent manages to round the bench as he fumbles for his gun at his side, damp fingers grappling awkwardly over the metal before he finds the grip and draws his weapon to the air, points it right at that man's back. ]

Stop walking.

[el_legendaire]

[ He doesn't hear. He's so used to flickers from the green, phantom impressions of Vincent's presence that he's stopped paying attention to half of them. The green knows his weaknesses well.

He does, however, freeze at the oh so familiar sound of a gun being drawn, and--

--and that voice. That voice.

He stops, raises both hands in the air in the classic 'I surrender' pose, and doesn't breathe. ]