11-02-2020, 04:38 AM
So much love, tender care and belief in the water. Vaas had stuck close to the water for the comfort, the familiarity when all else he couldn't stand. It was easy when he was younger, just a young uppity kid digging up from the grave his family made for him and stumbling bright eyed towards the waters. When Vaas didn't have to think- but all he did now was think. The call of the water has always been present. It had always been there and Vaas had learned to ignore it. Had learned to stick close, and how to swim, and even then heard it's tide roar it's invitation, it's challange towards him.
There wasn't an expression that could sit on his features well, terror crept up his spine and yet the expression along his maw was blank. Water like ice his companion for a space moment's before his name tore into the air stolen from his very lungs at the sight of the worry, concern there - for a sparse moment looking in deep into sea blue and feeling overwhelmed, exhausted: like a kid before his Madre waiting for the sting of her claws as training.
Remeber's how she would grow the herbs to heal the very injuries she induced.
How his sister quickly took that place.
-have you ever done that before? did you know you could do that?
how the fuck to explain it? Hysteria bubbled into his expression, stunned he sat down, hardly feeling the sting as his back leg's gave out-maybe. The gem laying down forgotten as he stared back towards the water. The pond suddenly so much more larger than he remembered, more daunting
"If i knew what the fuck i was doing you think i would be fucking doing this?" It came out as a snarl, defensive- tense and brittle. The tiger felt the water shift, sparks of ice encroaching on his pelt gods he was cold. He regretted the words as soon as they came out, Nine and Rhine both had came there out of concern, but Vaas was an inch from breaking and such power- such history... Well, Vaas was known for being violence, but his was such finely controlled, such a thin line it were to cross but one he wouldn't. Not this clan, not his family- fuck
fuck!
"Oh, this is fucking hysterical" and it trembled out of his voice, the edge slipping from it as he blinked past wet eyes. "Knew the bitch was wrong but i would love to shove this one up her fuckin' face, ya know?" He felt all the tension and let it go. A dangerous edge crept into his voice as he sat, the water stirring around him settling into the earth beyond a single band of water that kept at his wrists, like a manacle- like chains.
"poder no es todo, lo que sabes?" Vaas had fought for his, he gained this place, this family and this life and he left their bodies to rot. Spit on their thought of power, laughed that they were dead, and gods did it hurt bu it was worth it. It was worth it to know that the curse of power, abuse, cycle of theirs was gone
Such a funny thing, belief is.
"As if there is a fucking choice, in this shit!" Vaas roared, into the ground- digging his claws into the dirt. He felt raw, felt open and vulnerable and he didn't like it. Felt his whole body quake with the force of will he will not cry. he will control himself. He couldn't afford anything else.
"Yeah, it's a family trait" Vaas spit, his eyes looking- meeting the paws of Nine and Rhine both who were close- too fucking close. "They're dead and gone, all of 'em. I made sure of it" It was hard not to get the stench of the burn out of his noes, it's why he distastes smoking. Why booze was such an easy love- it made one forget for spare moments- enough. " Fuck, what am i going to do with this."
So fragile was the belief, but concrete was the tiger that came from it. He wouldn't allow this to be something he could slip responsibility from. The knowledge of it there frightened him, scared the shit of him- but he wouldn't allow it to control him. Fear was a tool, it was a tool and it was his.
"take me into your heart , accept me as your savior nail me to the fucking cross and let me be reborn" — an antagonist with a silver tongue , a pirate with nothing to loose and everything to gain . vaas montenegro ; he who lives to fight demons should be weary he himself does not become one ." it's not like i am fucking crazy — "