[for all of his soft beginnings and relative avoidance of intense violence, the black metal scene was hardly without its pockets of true darkness. the tight grip on his wrist is understandable, easy to deal with. the hand on his shoulder? that was another matter entirely.
from the way his entire body goes completely rigid one might make the mistake of assuming that Vincent had just been electrocuted. indeed, his already unruly hair seems right on the edge of bristling as if it had been shot full of static - or as if it belonged to an angry cat.
he jerks down suddenly and with far more force than necessary, aiming to completely dislodge the offending appendage on his quest to retrieve the candy bar from the machine. between the creaking of the plastic flap as he fishes his prize out, his voice rings out with as much accusatory petulance as you'd expect.]
Are you still dizzy? You're spouting bullshit.
[he rights himself again, shifting his feet to angle himself further away from Kit. he'll move away from the machine in a moment or two, but for now he wants to make it as difficult as possible for the other boy to touch him in any sort of friendly manner.
rather than continue immediately, he busies himself with peeling back the candy's wrapper. it's some chocolate and nougat nightmare, enormous in size and likely possessing enough sugar to knock a diabetic into a coma - and as soon as its protective cover is out of the way, half of it immediately disappears into Vincent's mouth. it's truly fearsome in its own way.]
Shouldn't you be a little tougher than this, anyway?
[for someone who'd acquired such a frightening reputation in prison, that is. not that the question is terribly frightening on its own when spoken around a gigantic mouthful of candy, but it's pretty clear that Vincent doesn't care very much for manners.]
no subject
from the way his entire body goes completely rigid one might make the mistake of assuming that Vincent had just been electrocuted. indeed, his already unruly hair seems right on the edge of bristling as if it had been shot full of static - or as if it belonged to an angry cat.
he jerks down suddenly and with far more force than necessary, aiming to completely dislodge the offending appendage on his quest to retrieve the candy bar from the machine. between the creaking of the plastic flap as he fishes his prize out, his voice rings out with as much accusatory petulance as you'd expect.]
Are you still dizzy? You're spouting bullshit.
[he rights himself again, shifting his feet to angle himself further away from Kit. he'll move away from the machine in a moment or two, but for now he wants to make it as difficult as possible for the other boy to touch him in any sort of friendly manner.
rather than continue immediately, he busies himself with peeling back the candy's wrapper. it's some chocolate and nougat nightmare, enormous in size and likely possessing enough sugar to knock a diabetic into a coma - and as soon as its protective cover is out of the way, half of it immediately disappears into Vincent's mouth. it's truly fearsome in its own way.]
Shouldn't you be a little tougher than this, anyway?
[for someone who'd acquired such a frightening reputation in prison, that is. not that the question is terribly frightening on its own when spoken around a gigantic mouthful of candy, but it's pretty clear that Vincent doesn't care very much for manners.]