Hello there. You have reached the voice message of Vincent Nightray. If you have a message for me, please leave it, and I'll be more than happy to get back to you as soon as possible.

Oh, but of course, if you are my dear brother Gilbert -- and I'm ever so happy that you've called! I've been expecting -- I will be more than happy to listen to your request over a warm cup of tea and some biscuits. Ah, but brother still does prefer coffee over tea, yes? Black, without the sugar? I would never forget what my brother dearly loves.

Do drop by and say hello to your younger brother. It can get ever so terribly lonely.

Thank you, and please do have a wonderful day.

♞ concrit, do want
♞ anon on
♞ ip logging off

[A la Diva style, this isn't video. Rather, there is a crackle of static, and a slow, low chuckle, the sort of chuckle that starts in the back of one's throat and ends up in the back of someone else's. The silence that follows is long and full of all sorts of pregnant possibilities. And generally speaking, you're not sure whether or not you want to see what sort of love child this particular pregnancy will give birth to.

Knowing Vincent, it's probably something deranged.

When he does speak, his voice is soft. Charming, lilting, patronizing and chock full of a hundred year's worth of bitter resentment hidden under a smiling facade.]

"The family is a haven in a heartless world." Didn't someone say that? If it wasn't someone, then it must have been someone else.

[His laughter is strained, somewhat. It sounds as though he were breathing in and out from the opening of a paper-bag. Judging from his mental state, it's probably not too much of a stretch. One can almost imagine the way he places a finger on the dreamberry, dragging his finger across it languidly.]

That man [man, because he's certain no woman could have said such a thing, not when his and Gilbert's mother had--] must have known what it meant to lose that haven. Haha, didn't another say that one doesn't know what they have until they have lost it?

[The pensive hum is mocking.] What does that say, then, about someone who has lost it twice? Does it mean that they did not cherish it? That the first time wasn't enough? I wonder what it says about old dogs, then, the sort that cannot be taught any tricks at all. Those are always the ones left behind, aren't they? No matter how much they wish to follow. Like sorry, sorry dogs.

[The first time was like a punch to the face. The second time was the sorrowful sound of nails clawing across barren flesh. But what of the time before even the first time? With his brother slung over his shoulder, prone, prone body, small, weak, pale hands. That was the ripping out of a heart out of a beating chest. The feel of two souls torn asunder. Brother.

He composes himself.]

Mm, I suppose my question to you is this, privileged audience. [The curl of his smile.]

How many of you have lost a sibling, a father, a friend since your arrival at this world? And... if there is even that slim possibility -- to what lengths would you go to get them back? Who would you beg? Who would you threaten? Who would you kill?

[Laughter, simple, pure laughter. And then, softly, like a mantra--]

Snip, snip, snip, little ones, snip, snip, snip. For listen, the sound of the scissors are drawing near.

[If this were voice, he'd be laughing. Laughing. Laughing.

What an interesting situation this is.

What a terribly, terribly interesting situation this is.

He is alive. He is alive. There has never been any doubt as to whether or not he's alive or not. Or whether or not he will be alive.

This cursed world and it's eternal silence.

And so he types.]

Isn't death here ever so cheapened?

I do wonder if we are but decoration on a chess board.

( Filter : Gilbert NightrayCollapse )

( Filter : EchoCollapse )

[ooc: Inspired by ofmisfortune, his loss was the memory of his killer and his ability to hear. /o/]

[A quick fumbling of the dreamberry, then--]

Voices, voices coming from...

[One red eye peers into the screen, then a gold one, and then the revealing of a young and youthful face of a child no more than eleven clutching the dreamberry with both hands.

A childish pout.]

Brother?

[He taps the dreamberry frantically.]

Brother are you in there?

[Filtered to Echo, and only Echo <3]

You have had quite a lot of fun, I hope.

But I think it's time to come back now.

[The camera flickers on just as a glass aquarium topples from its position on the shelf with a resounding crash. Water surges from the site of impact, drowning the day-old flower petals strewn across the floor.]

What manner of world tears family from family?

[A bark of unstable laughter, and suddenly, a pair of mismatched eyes stare into the camera.

They seemed crazed.]

Ahaha, I'm really upset right now.

[A potted plant smashes itself against the wall. And then, between suppressed giggles, whispers.]

It's all right. Huhu.

xxxGilbert can't do without me.

xxxxxxxxxxxAhaha, brother dearest can't do without me at all.

xHehe, he'll be back.

xxxxxxxOh yes, huhu, he'll be back.

xxxxxxxxxxxxNo matter where I go, he'll follow.

xxBrother is such a gentle person, and he would never let go of my arm.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxHe would always.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxBe there for me. Heee.

[An exhalation of breath. The vase goes smash.]

Echo, I miss seeing you. Please come over here, all right?

There's a good girl.

[A hiss.]

Brother-

[The transmission cuts off.]