VINCENT
let death be the deciding factor
Let's give a tribute to trial and tribulation and sing a song that we can all dance to. Imagine a beat that pulses subtly within us, quietly, warmly - we almost know it's there and we feel it vaguely, as we feel the sun that's been shining all our lives. Heavily nuanced, though noticed every day, such a nebulous swirl of vexation. Ambiguous. Veiled. Shadowed by perception. We sit on our ass and watch it go by. A shooting star with dreams in the dust. We watch hope fly away without singing a tune.

Vincent never got the chance to watch hope abandon him, it seemed to just pass over his head while he was searching out terrifying things in the grass.

Vincent rolls a golden eye in the darkness, peering back from where he came, locked somewhere between the murky horizon and naked tree limbs wondering how much time has passed; always remembering his brothers. It's been something like three days without sunlight and the world is ice. If it weren't cold enough to bury damnation, he wouldn't have noticed. Unwavering dusk crept in the very night Vince chased himself back to these familiar grounds and all of a sudden it seems so rash. He wouldn't be able to find his way back through rustling murk if he tried so he struggles onward, feathers catching on frosty arms of dying grass. Helovia has always been the realm where it goes black before something happens and it always unleashes itself right when he forces himself back into the damn place. What an unfortunate misconception. Vincent might not be so scared of the world if only time could dulcify and not be so darkly colored.

He rattled in his gait with dilated eyes always flickering to and fro, mistaking his own steps for prowling creatures and sometimes mistaking prowling creatures for his own tremendous footfalls. He could almost hear someone walking behind him, traveling in time with him. No matter how frequently he glanced back, the tune continued to play in his ears when his eyes were ahead. The tormented soul let his legs grow faster until he was running, full on, sweat bouncing to vaporous froth. He resembled a western steam train barreling down the tracks carrying a full freight of coal and headlight eyes blaring ahead, full speed ahead. Frosty breaths rolled in and out jaggedly, heart jumping between the two lungs, mechanically pushing the blood to his legs. Vincent felt air sting his eyes and tears bathe his cheeks.

Dinner-plate hooves carried him right into the tunnel, footfalls clanking against rock - he jumped at the sound, slamming the hulk of his right side into a glass wall. Few crystals shattered to the floor, sending wild Vincent into the other wall. Deep shocking pain radiated bruises and his legs refused to listen, carrying him in deeper, and deeper still. Finally he commanded heels down to earth, skidding to the last inch of rock before water broke the floor.

He couldn't breathe. Eyes could only dart among waves. One black ear stood up to hear faint rippling echoes of drops tapping against the cavern floors. Drip, drop. They cycled. One powerful splat behind him while another would answer from the farthest reach of the cave. What a song. Still Vincent held his breath, but eyes wandered behind him, neck twisting, pain crawling in his ribs. There was nothing. Whatever it was lost him. Finally nostrils opened and lungs took air like sails in the wind. His head was spinning, heart pouncing as it received oxygen. The last time he was this spent was when Brother Knox sipped his father's life. He vaguely remember this, he always did. It was in constant loop around his mind, subconsciously. Vince looked out over the water once more, silvery ripples projecting calmness, drip drop fading away in his ears. Dizziness claimed him, and the massive draft fell to the floor.

Demons lurked in the darkness. With every step, Jorogumo looked about, afraid something would step out and drag her back into the abyss. Every waking moment it seemed was spent in terror. There was no one to protect her. There was no one to cling to and hide behind. For once the spider wished she could just be a child that could clutch to her mother’s side. She had managed to be strong in front of that idiot boy once she was cured, but now she couldn’t cope with it. All she knew how to do was withdraw into herself, so that was what she did. Walking through the darkness was a wisp and a ghost.

Faces lurked in the back of her mind. Everyone she had infected. Everyone she had wounded. Despite the guilt she wouldn’t apologize. Seeing those faces again would just make the wounds fester even more. Plus she could only imagine what some of those individuals would do upon recognizing her as the monster that inflicted harm upon loved ones. Worst of all would be facing Kisaki and owning up to the things she had screamed at that mare. The mare who had in her childlike innocent been her idol. Now it was seeming no one could be trusted, not even herself.

The sound of a thump pulled her from her grief-ridden thoughts.
Ever so slowly, he ears perked forward and she walked in the direction of the sound. Before her was a hulking beast upon the ground. A frown passed over her lips as she went to the immediate assumption of the individual being dead. Jorogumo drew closer and went directly up to the dead creature. For a moment sheer terror sweltered up inside of her and she wanted nothing more than to run. At the same time she was curious. She wanted whoever this was to just be sleeping. The filly trotted over to the beasts side and gently poked his side with her horn. Would he move? Oh gods above she hoped so!

She paced around the frame of whoever this stallion was. One thing she did take note of was the lack of horn. Weak creatures these hornless seemed to be. Slowly she gazed about but she saw none weeping over this stranger. Maybe this idiot was just sleeping. She walked over to his face and reached out to gently nudge his cheek with the tip of her noise. “Come on you hulking beast and wake up. Please don’t be dead, I’ve seen enough death.” She tried to nudge him again. “Come on, open your eyes! At the very least move!”

If he was breathing she was too preoccupied to notice. The panic of seeing something lifeless before her was too great.

[@[Vincent] Hope you don't mind me jumping in! I won't tag you anymore if you would like me not to.]
"Talking"

Jorogumo

VINCENT
let death be the deciding factorThere was such texture to his dreams. Vivid colors carried intense flavor, heightening the experience of his revelation. After the black, hours could have past, leaving the tormented with the evils of a intuitive mind. The void composed fecund imagery — thoughts of swirling madness. Vincent's terror never left him, not even in sublimity. The happiest colors brought him back to the steel of Mandrake's eyes, the cold chill of a cunning trigger. It almost felt like he was at gunpoint when he dreamt. Sagging eyes often prowled the night and as soon as dawn's golden fingers traced the land, he was bound to sleep as a child in a blanket. He found that thinking blankly brought him to an oblivious state, pulsing there as the dumb do, and that act allowed sleep to come darkly cold like an anesthetic. But Vincent had not an ounce of time to prepare for the whirring dreams as his mind collapsed under the throbbing pressure of adrenaline. The body forced itself shut — he fell down, and the tremor sent ripples through the rock, across the water.

The chipped fore-hoof twitched sparingly in his ghastly slumber. It might have been hours before he was roused. But in the mind, years past all at once. A lifespan circled around, electric blue, chasing down poor, tired neurons as nightmares devoured him. They chased like shadows, eagerly licking the frogs of his feet, burning holes in his skin like anxiety does. The fear was not as evident as vast shadows or broad abandonment, oh no - Vincent was clogged with his greatest fear, the silver devil. She chased him through dreams and, like a spider, spun him in elastic threads. Sweat oozed from Vincent's pores while the terror of his unconsciousness kept a hellish grip on his dreaming soul. It was amazing, his torment. You wouldn't think that one could drive themselves so mad by their memories. Vince surely was victim of his own illness whether he knew it or not, but his terror was ridiculous. He could die from such a rapidly beating heart and it's a surprise his enormous body could handle so much stress trauma. He would need to wake soon if he were to be alive.

But Vincent hardly felt the prod of the child's horn, his skin responded with a delayed twitch. The filly's touch was hardly enough to shake the nightmare in his head. She seemed to panic, sizing him up, anxiously pacing the length of his body. She nudged him once more, harder, and he felt it this time. Her voice pierced the symphonic cavern and sound ruptured Vincent's brain. The echoes surrounded him, thousands of voices in one moment. With a dull shock the beast's legs sprawled, feathers flying, all at once in motion. Golden eyes snapped open, the dream fell into his rapid wake while moans threatened whoever it was who startled him. Vincent lept to his feet, sweaty skin cold to motion's air. He jumped into the only gait he knew - gallop. Dinner-plate hooves carried him only strides away before he realized he could actually see. The beast spun around, nervous eyes flickering, finding the small, dark girl. He snorted, lovely. He'd probably given this small girl more of a heart attack then she'd given him, if that was possible. Something about her darkness eerily lingered. So small, but so dark.

Vincent's head spun numbly, he kept his distance, not daring to near her. She seemed harmless as the seconds passed. She was probably just as shocked as he was. Onyx tail twitched nervously. It was beyond awkward - just standing, waiting. He shook his head, keeping eyes keenly focused on the small girl. Mane fell messily over his sweaty neck. He uttered a long sigh.

"I-I didn't think you were the one w-waking me up," the stutter hardly could rattle his deep tenor, but the nerves were more than evident. Vincent lifted a hoof, a casual yet cautious effort to proceed. "I thought you were something more harmful."

@[Jorogumo]