#v. remake

❛ how  serendipitous, ❜   lucien  remarks  smoothly,  taking  a  step  back  &  eyes  glancing  about  for  another  exit.  some  way  to  dodge  out  of  her  way.  he  extends  his  rapier  out,  stance  cautious  &  defensive.  it  feels  odd  to  be  doing  this  again,  but  it’s  for  the  best.  things  are  different  now.  they’re  different.  if  the  mighty  nein  before  then  had  been  a  collection  of  pieces  from  different  puzzles  before,  it’s  not  the  case  now.  they’ve  shaped  themselves  into  a  family.  has  no  place  there  anymore.  not  as  he  is  with  all  of  him  back  together  again.   ❛ you  would  think  in  ruins  as  large  as  these,  it’d  be  difficult  to  run  into  other  scavengers.  tell  me——are  you  jester  ? ❜

i thought you were our friend.  the  second  he  had  woke  up  again,  brought  back  to  life  with  the  toll  of  the  dead  ringing  in  his  ears,  he  knew  it  wouldn’t  be  simple.  the  sheer  scale  of  the  lifetimes  dwelling  inside  him  nearly  swallowed  him  whole  in  the  beginning.  he’d  choked  on  mollymauk’s  memories,  clutching  the  tapestry  with  one  hand  while  the  other  clawed  at  it  to  pry  himself  free.

❛ lucien, ❜   cree  calls  out,  breaking  his  focus.  &  he  is  lucien.  with  everything  he  remembers,  with  how  hard  mollymauk  had  tried  to  fit  more  years  in  the  two  he’d  been  allotted,  lucien  still  outweighed  it.  he  had  a  childhood  with  lucien.  a  family,  once.  he  had  friends,  enemies  &  an  entire  ditch  of  people  left  behind  in  his  wake.  he  wasn’t  entirely  the  lucien  from  before,  but  that  was  still  his  name.  it’s  what  he  started  with  &  it’s  what  he  chooses  now.  lucien  shakes  his  head  slightly,  moving  towards  her  with  a  solemn  look.

we  miss  /  ed  you.   lucien  hears  it  in  two  voices.  cree’s  warm  arms  around  him,  breaking  down  on  the  grass  &  mud  &  pulling  him  closer.

(  *  maybe  that’s  why  he  choose  lucien.  it  was  easier  to  be  him.  he’d  try  every  so  often,  to  be  mollymauk  again.  ever  since  he  felt  the  first  prickles  of  someone’s  gaze  upon  him  &  it  could  only  be  them.  no  one  scried  on  a  dead  man  who’s  been  gone  for  two  or  more  years  unless  they  knew  deep  down  that  they  were  going  to  find  something.  he’d  tried  to,  out  of  curiosity.  tried  to  remember  the  way  mollymauk  would  sprawl,  taking  up  as  much  room  as  he  could  in  spite  of  actual  comfort.  it  was  the  image.  it  was  always  about  the  image  with  him.  mollymauk  liked  the  appearance  of  indulgence  &  debauchery.  pure  unflappable  confidence  &  trickery,  hands  tied  &  eyes  glittering.  lucien  couldn’t  hold  the  position  for  long.  he  didn’t  remember  how  it  quite  worked  anymore.  as  if  even  with  how  intensely  mollymauk  tried  to  live,  a  pile  of  smoke  &   mirrors  only  got  someone  so  far  towards  a  personality.  the  voice  was  harder.  mollymauk’s  throat  remembered  the  way  lucien  sounded,  but  mollmauk’s  mind  remembered  gustav  &  all  the  rest.  lucien’s  forgotten  gustav’s  face  at  this  point.  all  that’s  left  is  a  sad  man  they  left  in  behind  in  jail.  )

❛ let’s  go, ❜   lucien  murmurs.  he  looks  towards  each  &  every  one  of  them.  his  family,  his  tombtakers.  he  smiles  &  it  doesn’t  feel  like  a  memory.  it’s  good  to  see  them  again.  to  see  their  excitement  &  anticipation.  they’re  closer  than  they’ve  ever  been  &  he  has  something  he  must  do.  he  can  enjoy  this.  does  enjoy  this.  so  long  as  he  doesn’t  think  about  why.  this  is  it.  there’s  no  time  for  second  thoughts  now.  if  there  was  ever  a  group  of  people  that  needed  a  good  time  to  go  out,  have  a  laugh,  see  things  that  they’ve  never  seen  before——lucien  grins.   ❛ won’t  be  long  now.  places,  everyone.  let’s  show  them  a  good  time. ❜

     he watches vincent with trepidation, the others safely behind him as he studies the man before him, unsure of what to expect. he seems to come back to himself at cloud’s words, as if a beast shaking off the remnants of confusion even though he seemed impervious to such effects. his gaze flicks about to the carnage that surrounds him, his crimson gaze swirling in emotion. cloud briefly does the same, observing the bloodied corpses with little regard ( he has seen his fair share of savage sights, and they hold no sway over his will ). vincent was truly monstrous in his ability to utterly decimate the enemies before him. a worthy opponent, if ever faced.

     his voice breaks through, raspy, providing only a single response by way of his sudden retreat. cloud watches as his cloak, saturated, billows behind him as he makes way for a creek in the distance. unsure whether sheathing the buster sword was the right thing to do, but finding no solid reason to bear arms against the man, he returns his weapon and gives pause. following vincent seems the only way to obtain the answers he seeks. he gives the others a halting hand, and strides after vincent once sure they remain in place. 

     he can’t know what he walks toward, but he has questions. he follows the hurried steps ahead of him, listening to crush of foliage beneath boots, until he hears the quiet rush of water that vincent referenced. when the fumbling stops, and the sound of water is clear, cloud pauses in a break amongst the trees. perhaps vincent had wanted privacy, but his actions required explanation and if he was to return to the party, he needed to have answers. he gives a few moments before stepping forward, the others cloaked back all he sees. he makes no move to conceal his presence, and keeps distance between them.