#vincent answer.

@ancgnorisis sent : “you ruin me, and i still crawl back.” (vincent)

he does not even turn from where he is watching his own fingers work, slipping silk fabric in between itself to unform the knot of his forest green tie, cigarette dangling from his lips despite it being unlit. he does not bother looking at her through the reflection; he knows how pathetic she looks. how disheveled, how desperate not only for attention, but for him specifically.

because unlike others, he does not lie about what he will give her, nor what he expects out of her.

he pulls, and the green silk slides out from under his collar, slowly unbuttoned to expose the edges of his collar bones and the sparsely disbursed dark hairs beneath them.

"you say this, and yet, you are not on your hands and knees, as expected of you."

dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad. dad.

he's hiding, because he's fairly certain she will be upset that he went ahead and had those people that fucked with her upon arrival to moscow killed and he doesn't want to deal with the speech about humanity right now.

She's tall but lacks being a ginger, as for the ancient part, would being an oracle / medium work?

@bledsaint sent : [2STEP] - Dance together / let her dance with her dad >: (

it is nothing extravagant by any means.

she had not been to the ballroom that resides on the fiftieth floor yet, despite coming to visit so often, and so he had taken her down to it. the music that plays is from him, his chest rumbling softly as he recounts the song that stirred in his brain at something she'd said.

izolda's favorite movie lately has been sleeping beauty, and the love story within it has kept her occupied for weeks, so it is the song she babble-hums that comes to the father now.

he would have done this at her wedding, had they known each other then.

vincent's hand finds nymeria's, pulling her gently into himself to guide her into the waltz positioning while he hums quietly, floating them about the floor, because he knows she knows how to dance. and if not, then follow his lead.

@bledsaint sent : nym is saying a very happy father's day to dadcent. he absolutely gets a cheek kiss and a portrait of their little family that she's been so quietly working on ♡

"now, what is this?" is muttered in the same fashion he would have if it had been izolda tucking one of her crayon masterpieces into his hands, but this time, the adoration that sweeps his expression is a touch more... genuine is not the correct word, because it always is, but it's more mature here. he looks over the love in the brush strokes, the way that nymeria has made the four of them look so happy despite vincent's general rule that art typically appears lifeless.

he silently moves to set the painting on his desk, moving to a more abstract piece already hanging on the wall in his office that is taken down, set on the floor with its back leaned against the darkly painted wall. hers is then retrieved, and with reverence, great care, and a step back to appreciate it, the painting is hung in that special place without a word until he is returning to her.

an embrace, gentle and kinder than anyone else would believe him capable of, and vincent is pressing a kiss to her forehead. "it is lovely, my dear. thank you."

   Immortality is tricky, she does carry an ancient curse that is considered the strongest of such variants who will not accept their vessel dying - so, yes but no too, who knows? There is also the fact her blood can be either toxic or an aphrodisiac, either way, it makes for a fun time.