vincent nightlay

( such a trial, dear Sir, with no jury or judge, would be wasting our breath.Collapse )

It's so easy to come and go, isn't it? Just the other day, I vanished without a trace, and here I am again, with the same deals in set and the same setting to be had. I'm certain some people don't remember me leaving, and some are unhappy about my return. Unsuitable alliances may lead to that, wouldn't you say? But I wouldn't like to just leave it to sit. That's why we must work together, and why I must find more people to befriend here.

Ah, I realize you may be wondering, why it is I'm approaching this in such a way ... but I suppose I'll leave it up to you. If others can play and vote and take lives, wouldn't it be the same for me to do that? I've never been one who's bent on revenge, but I'd rather keep those dear to me safe. And those dear to them within an arm's reach, whatever that may mean.

I've taken to being rather cryptic because it's fun. But why don't we have a little question and answer session? That sounds nice, doesn't it?

If you lost someone important, would you kill to get them back? Or ... to what length would you return someone to you, who would have never left in the first place? I find that this place presents many simple opportunities for that; in my experience, it's what we find important that truly defines us.

And oh, please refrain from replying audibly. I'm afraid I won't be able to take in your response.

( filtered to gil | unhackableCollapse )

[ooc: as per his deal, Vincent is still deaf for another month and a couple weeks. o/]

video

[the video cuts in to a familiar scene, only Gil's body is missing, and there are many stuffed ... rabbits, it would appear, lying on the ground. they're cut up, mutilated, as if expertly done by a pair of scissors. the scissors, at least, might come to mind, as there's two pairs lying on the ground, closed, discarded.

near the writing on the wall, Vincent is standing, bent down, poor posture, with his hair stretching down over his face a little, which is easily seen from the way his head is craned for a profile view. there's a pause, though, a recognition of the video recording (the red light), before he turns toward it]

Ah ... perhaps this is what they want, Gil ... For me to give whoever took your life a message.

[he begins laughing then, and then bends down, picking up a stray rabbit underneath the pile and picking it up. he turns toward the camera, cutting it carefully, snip snip snip, the pieces of it fall open, until it's in pieces, floating through the air because of its light weight before hitting the ground]

Would you mind if I handled things? I wouldn't mind at all, except for Mr. Hatter. Wouldn't it be better ... if we handled him differently? Don't you hear, Mr. Hatter? We'll do things differently for you. Because you've been so polite ... you've tried to put Gil to work for me, it's better to do things this way!

[he raises the hand not holding the scissors to look into the camera with his mismatched eyes and he laughs, before the pair of scissors clinks fast against the ground]

I want to find who did this to Gil. Won't you help, Mr. Hatter? Isn't it important to you, too?

[he continues to look at the camera with a pleasant smile, before he moves to push the off button]

( filtered to the deities | voice | unhackableCollapse )

[ooc: Vincent is off the deep end because Gil died. Even if Gil comes back ... this isn't supposed to happen in Vincent's view of the world. apologies for my confusion in Gil's death post last night and I think that's been cleared up. also, I apologize if my replies are slow.]

audio;

[there's a bit of wind, but nothing more. if anyone has heard the carousel in the past, they would be familiar with its sound, but if not, it might, simply, sound mechanical in the background. Vincent isn't close enough to be hurled or bothered, and is instead standing a bit away, observing]

It's interesting, isn't it? To find a place like this, where we're all gathered. Time has an important part in the world I come from. Time can control how long it is until you've gone mad, until you've died and the only way to keep yourself alive is to take the alives of others. But no one would do that here, would they? No one would admit to it, anyway. It's funny how no one goes mad when they're reminded of the time. Or maybe it's that everyone just pretends. It's a lot easier that way.

But wouldn't that mean we're all mad? What if we're all caught in the same illusion, with just the sound of the clock swaying us in some way? That would be very interesting, indeed. But where would it lead?

[a brief pause before he chuckles, his laughter soft and inviting, before raising up for a moment, and then cutting off completely]

It's better not to entertain thoughts of madness. Why do such a thing when we have lives to attend to? Here, some of us have what's most important within our grasps. Madness might not give us that. Just the other day, my brother Gilbert arrived ... ah, it's likely you've met him as Raven, and I don't know how friendly he'll be to anyone. He can't help it. While he has me, the person most important to him hasn't arrived yet.

He'll have to come soon, though, won't we? Aren't we all drawn here eventually by this ticking of the clock? I'd rather not see Gilbert in such unpleasant smiles, but if that's how he must look for now ... I won't mind it at all.

However, there is another matter to discuss ...

[only before Vincent is able to launch into it, he yawns and falls asleep]

video;

[in true fashion of the City, the device controls itself, clicking from audio to video, and Vincent is curled up on a bench, fast asleep. in the distance, the carousel turns, and it looks as if he was making notes, the book within which curled up close to his body, as if he was already holding it there]

( oocCollapse )

—Eh? The little light has come on and it says it's recording, how interesting. What a place, quite unlike any I've seen. It doesn't look like a lost memory of a place from just beyond, does it? Interesting! It shouldn't be too bad that I've been caught here away from everyone, even if I was just in my home. Funny, really, isn't it?

[a pause, where he laughs lightly, only the laughter carries on a little too long]

Sorry, please forgive me. It shouldn't matter what I say, but if this is recording, it must be for a reason. An unusual device, too! How nice. Ah, but if it is, I should make a record of who I am, and what this place is. It's quite different from what I'm used to. It doesn't bother me. ... Perhaps I've been drawn to a different time, and I wouldn't know it. Wouldn't that be an interesting explanation? But this looks like nowhere I know, but perhaps—

[another pause, only met with a sharp intake of breath, and nothing more]

Enough of that. My name is Vincent Nightlay. If I'm here, then I would like this message carried on to someone very important to me. He's my brother. He'll have dark hair and golden eyes, and a face that's not prone to smiling. He might be with a teenaged boy with blond hair, and he'll call him master.

There won't be a need for him to come find me immediately. That won't be a problem. But I'd like to know that he's safe.

[another pause]

Now that that's settled ... where do I go from here? This is an interesting garden, but I'm afraid it's not much of one to settle in.