Vanitas can't help but smirk. "No," he says. Despite actual intent to leave, his knee-jerk contrarianism and love of pissing people off is rising to the fore. Some things about himself he's very good at reigning in. Some things he's never really tried to. They slip through a little easier. Ventus is so angry it's great. The other Ventus didn't get this angry even about the cairn. His Ventus just tries to turn him to paste without preamble and there's no heat to it. The urge to just keep pressing this button, to play chicken, to bare teeth and lock eyes, is so tempting.
Ventus is acting almost like him.
It's the kind of idle thought that then gets a record scratch as the entire length of the train of it then attempts to back up along the track. This boy is really short, really young. He's not a barren wasteland of light, he's got darkness in him; it's so strong now if it gets any thicker it'll be rising up like miasma. His eyes, now that Vanitas really looks, are yellow and green. Vanitas hasn't thought about the boy who died in a year, now.
Of course, what this looks like on the outside is Vanitas stops, eyes wide, and then starts disbelievingly laughing as the worst possible response to these questions.
no subject
Ventus is acting almost like him.
It's the kind of idle thought that then gets a record scratch as the entire length of the train of it then attempts to back up along the track. This boy is really short, really young. He's not a barren wasteland of light, he's got darkness in him; it's so strong now if it gets any thicker it'll be rising up like miasma. His eyes, now that Vanitas really looks, are yellow and green. Vanitas hasn't thought about the boy who died in a year, now.
Of course, what this looks like on the outside is Vanitas stops, eyes wide, and then starts disbelievingly laughing as the worst possible response to these questions.