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[Final Fantasy VII] [Vincent] [Rated M] Fire to the Sails (1/?)
Title: Fire to the Sails
Fandom/Pairing: Final Fantasy VII; Vincent
Rating: ESRB Rating of M for Mature < violence, vampirism, character death >
Summary: It's not easy being a vampire amongst sky pirates. Vincent's story, from the very beginning to the end. AU.
Notes: Just as a quick explanation: this isn't so much one cohesive story as a series of side-stories and drabbles for a multi-chapter piece I haven't uploaded yet. Also, segment titles are so very totally from Jacqueline Carey's "Kushiel's Legacy" series.
Fire to the Sails
Chapter One: On the Sensations of Deception
(i. the bee is in the lavender, the honey fills the comb)
On a sunny afternoon, it all begins with a promise; with words uttered through young, thoughtless lips. The breeze that blows is meaningless in the burgeoning warmth of spring, irrelevant to the scene.
(I won't let him hurt you. I promise.)
And Lucrecia, dear, beautiful, well-meaning Lucrecia smiles her weak smile. She says, "Thank you, Vincent," but then trails off.
They're silent a moment, looking at a grassy hill, listening to the faint buzz of bees as they search amongst the leaves and weeds for blooms worth pollenating. They bask in the sunshine, in the sweet scent of flowers and grass. They soak it all in because who knows when they'll be allowed to leave the house during the day again? They certainly don't; they don't even know that they won't be punished for this excursion.
She gnaws on her lip and tries to work up the courage to add one more thing, just say one thing more and be done with it. He sits and waits, because there is nothing she could say that he could not bear to hear.
And at last, she brings it out: "He really scares me sometimes."
Vincent threads his hands through hers and fights down the urge to admit that Hojo scares him too.
(ii. but here the rain is neverending)
Night is never a good time in the Crescent household. That's when Hojo is awake. Hojo is strange and pale-skinned and far too strong and Vincent hates him, has always hated him.
Inhumanly strong; Vincent has learned that lesson the hard way too many times and yet still goes up against the man he once thought of as an employer. And he loses, just like he has every time before. This time, Hojo simply grips his shoulder and flings him out of the way. His back strikes the stone wall and he cries out.
Vincent isn't sure what Hojo is angry about this time. There are shouts that don't quite penetrate his ears. Lucrecia screaming. Thick wet sounds he can't interpret; everything is heard through a reverberating haze of pain.
More talking, more screaming. He doesn't understand what's going on but he manages to lift a hand to one ear--it's a feat, really, it is; every faint motion is a raging, burning ache; his body is screaming stop stop stop with hot sharp intense immediate claxons of agony--and feels the wetness of blood.
Then there is silence for a long, long time.
The blood in Vincent's ears dries. The bronze sound of the knives shooting through every nerve ending in his body goes quieter. It doesn't stop, but it dims, and that is enough.
Hojo is quiet in a corner and then there's the sound of motion. Vincent senses it and tries to lift his head, but his neck makes a dull cracking sound and refuses to cooperate.
It's at that moment, when Vincent realize that he cannot move his head or his left arm, that the fear sets in.
He hears a wild, bitter laugh. Something sharp lodges in his throat. Slurping sounds, cold breath against his neck.
And then darkness and silence. He is grateful for them. They last forever.
(iii. and i am far from home)
He comes to with his fingers curled around Hojo's throat. He notes a sensation of dim light, but he can see just fine and what he's seeing right now is Hojo, up against the floral wallpaper of Lucrecia's room.
His mind reels, dizzy and ecstatic and curious. This shouldn't be possible. He's never been fast enough or strong enough to do this to Hojo.
What's going on?
"What did you do to me?" It's a good demand for answers, harsh and gravelly, but he cuts his lips on his teeth when he says me.
He tastes his own blood and that nearly frenzies him. He is at once horrified and ravenous, ready to sink his teeth into Hojo's throat and yet whimpering at the very idea.
In the end, he tosses Hojo aside like a ragdoll and ignores the other not-man's--the other monster's--manic cackling laugh.
WORDS: 699
Fandom/Pairing: Final Fantasy VII; Vincent
Rating: ESRB Rating of M for Mature < violence, vampirism, character death >
Summary: It's not easy being a vampire amongst sky pirates. Vincent's story, from the very beginning to the end. AU.
Notes: Just as a quick explanation: this isn't so much one cohesive story as a series of side-stories and drabbles for a multi-chapter piece I haven't uploaded yet. Also, segment titles are so very totally from Jacqueline Carey's "Kushiel's Legacy" series.
Chapter One: On the Sensations of Deception
(i. the bee is in the lavender, the honey fills the comb)
On a sunny afternoon, it all begins with a promise; with words uttered through young, thoughtless lips. The breeze that blows is meaningless in the burgeoning warmth of spring, irrelevant to the scene.
(I won't let him hurt you. I promise.)
And Lucrecia, dear, beautiful, well-meaning Lucrecia smiles her weak smile. She says, "Thank you, Vincent," but then trails off.
They're silent a moment, looking at a grassy hill, listening to the faint buzz of bees as they search amongst the leaves and weeds for blooms worth pollenating. They bask in the sunshine, in the sweet scent of flowers and grass. They soak it all in because who knows when they'll be allowed to leave the house during the day again? They certainly don't; they don't even know that they won't be punished for this excursion.
She gnaws on her lip and tries to work up the courage to add one more thing, just say one thing more and be done with it. He sits and waits, because there is nothing she could say that he could not bear to hear.
And at last, she brings it out: "He really scares me sometimes."
Vincent threads his hands through hers and fights down the urge to admit that Hojo scares him too.
(ii. but here the rain is neverending)
Night is never a good time in the Crescent household. That's when Hojo is awake. Hojo is strange and pale-skinned and far too strong and Vincent hates him, has always hated him.
Inhumanly strong; Vincent has learned that lesson the hard way too many times and yet still goes up against the man he once thought of as an employer. And he loses, just like he has every time before. This time, Hojo simply grips his shoulder and flings him out of the way. His back strikes the stone wall and he cries out.
Vincent isn't sure what Hojo is angry about this time. There are shouts that don't quite penetrate his ears. Lucrecia screaming. Thick wet sounds he can't interpret; everything is heard through a reverberating haze of pain.
More talking, more screaming. He doesn't understand what's going on but he manages to lift a hand to one ear--it's a feat, really, it is; every faint motion is a raging, burning ache; his body is screaming stop stop stop with hot sharp intense immediate claxons of agony--and feels the wetness of blood.
Then there is silence for a long, long time.
The blood in Vincent's ears dries. The bronze sound of the knives shooting through every nerve ending in his body goes quieter. It doesn't stop, but it dims, and that is enough.
Hojo is quiet in a corner and then there's the sound of motion. Vincent senses it and tries to lift his head, but his neck makes a dull cracking sound and refuses to cooperate.
It's at that moment, when Vincent realize that he cannot move his head or his left arm, that the fear sets in.
He hears a wild, bitter laugh. Something sharp lodges in his throat. Slurping sounds, cold breath against his neck.
And then darkness and silence. He is grateful for them. They last forever.
(iii. and i am far from home)
He comes to with his fingers curled around Hojo's throat. He notes a sensation of dim light, but he can see just fine and what he's seeing right now is Hojo, up against the floral wallpaper of Lucrecia's room.
His mind reels, dizzy and ecstatic and curious. This shouldn't be possible. He's never been fast enough or strong enough to do this to Hojo.
What's going on?
"What did you do to me?" It's a good demand for answers, harsh and gravelly, but he cuts his lips on his teeth when he says me.
He tastes his own blood and that nearly frenzies him. He is at once horrified and ravenous, ready to sink his teeth into Hojo's throat and yet whimpering at the very idea.
In the end, he tosses Hojo aside like a ragdoll and ignores the other not-man's--the other monster's--manic cackling laugh.
WORDS: 699