A Thousand Years
Chapter Eighteen: The Next Generation
Disclaimer: Vincent is copyright FFVII. Davoren is copyright to the author of What Lies Beneath the Snowfields. I just took the general characters and twisted them around a bit until they fit the plotline nicely. Author of Beneath the Snowfields: If you ever happen to read this and don't like what I've done with him, just drop me an e-mail and I'll change Davoren's name.
Gazing down upon the gypsy camp below me, I closed my eyes and let myself be enveloped in the intoxicatingly sweet music that drifted up from the campfires below. One family of gypsies were performing for the rest of the camp's delight. Though the gypsies were never aware of my presence, I grew to know that particular family almost intimately over the years since I've discovered them. The father, Thatcher Valentine, was a tall man with wild, untamable raven hair and gray-blue eyes. He altered between playing the violin and the percussion instruments. The mother, Victoria Valentine, was a beauty of medium height with deep blue eyes and thick curls of dark hair falling down her back. Her instrument of choice was her voice, but she would occasionally play the flute. They had two children: Vincent, now twenty-seven, was a strikingly handsome man with his father's untamable hair and his mother's fair skin and more effeminate features. He sang with his mother, but also knew how to play the guitar and the violin. His younger brother of twenty-three, Davoren, stood out amongst the group with his snow white skin and hair. That, and his pink eyes, identified him as being albino. Truly curious, I'd never seen or heard of an albino human before. I'd only seen it in rodents and the occasional deer. Anyway, Davoren played mostly the violin.
Aside from being very musically inclined, the family were almost inseperable. Thatcher and Victoria were as loving a couple as I'd ever seen, and they raised their sons to be gentlemen. Thatcher also took his sons hunting, and they were extremely skilled with crossbows. Many people think gypsies are nothing but tricksters, thieves, and murderers. Not this group. Romany gypsies, who lived off the land and often avoided the cities. One might think that because of this, they were the prime targets of vampires. Not true. We mostly left them alone because of one simple fact: they do not try to hinder us. They understand that vampires are higher on the food chain with them, and they understand they are prey. They do not try to hunt us into extinction. They simply try to do what they can to keep themselves safe. If attacked, they will defend themselves, but unlike the close-minded people of the cities, they do not hold any superiority complex against us. Such people should be left alive to breed more people of such a mindset. Things would be so much easier then.
All right, I suppose you'd like to know why exactly I've been watching this family for so many years. When I began watching them, I was nearing the age when I would finally be old enough to sire vampires of my own. I wanted my first children to be people who I felt would be able to accept the Dark Gift and find the good in it. I wanted them to be intelligent, and not wind up with another Melchiah or Turel. That would be unbearable.
Lord Kain actually has had us wandering on our own for a few years now. He said that we took the security of our home for granted, and should learn what it is like to fend completely for ourselves. Of course, he told us to check up with him once a week at first, then once a month. He was no longer able to feel an empathetic tie with us, he explained, so such meetings were necessary. We were to take no action against the humans other than self-defense and food. While battles are almost never boring, hundreds of years of it does get tiring without a break. I was actually glad of it.
Oh, and Dumah found something very interesting in one of the old tomes he'd found in some of the ancient vampiric ruins he'd come across om his own wanderings. He said if we fed our blood to a mortal, they would become 'ghouls'. Basically, they would gain a love-bond to the vampire whose blood they were fed, and if they were human, could very well be our agents of daylight, our retainers, able to do things we are limited by. This was not a permanent affliction, though. The blood would have to be fed to them at least once a month, and after three feedings, their love bond was at its most intense. They also gained many things, including immortality, resistance to disease, and additional strength and endurance. The only bad thing: if you have more than one three-steps-bound ghouls, they apparently have a tendency to fight each other if they sense any favoritism.
I tried it out on Necromancer (named after his great (seventeen times) grandfather), and succeeded in ghouling him to me. Which, frankly, was a relief. I hated having to deal with the deaths of my horses so often.
Back to the subject of the gypsies, though. I need to stop digressing.
The ladies of the camp always cooed and sighed wistfully over Vincent. I don't see why they didn't do the same to Davoren, he was strikingly handsome as well... Perhaps they were put off by his albinism. Yet, despite their attentions, Vincent never took any romantic interest in them of any sort. He had a love and possible wife, once, but the foolish wench betrayed him so badly that almost any self-esteem he had was obliterated. Led him on, teased and built up his hope, only to completely turn her back on him and run off with some ratty-looking, disgusting man. Hmph. He must have had large endowments. That's the only explanation I can possibly think of for her dumping Vincent for that rat. ...Dear God, I'm such a bloody fruit tart when it comes to good-looking men. I'll be talking with a gay lisp next.
A sudden commotion in the camp, and all the music abruptly stopped. I nearly groaned aloud. Whatever idiot had raised a panic had done it in the middle of one of my favorite songs. A teenaged boy soon gathered a crowd of curious and concerned gypsies as he gasped and babbled on about something or other. But with everyone else talking all at once, I could barely hear what was being said. Grumbling, I silently made my way down through the trees, staying out of sight and straining my hearing for what was being said. One of the gypsies finally managed to calm the boy down enough to get him to spit out what he wanted to say... and I nearly lost my composure upon hearing the little idiot had just slept with the Lord's daughter in the nearby city and the Lord caught them in the afterglow.
I thought it was funny as all hell, but the gypsies were always a cautious group, and everyone grumbled and moved to pack up their things in their caravans, perparing to leave while the boy got cussed out by his mother so voraciously it would have made a seasoned sailor blush. It was not long later that I perked my ears, picking up the muffled clinking of armor accompanied by the muffled footsteps of horses. My eyes widened slightly and I quickly moved to back away from the area, just as the Lord's men suddenly burst into the camp and began slaughtering everyone left and right, setting fire to their caravans.
The peaceful atmosphere shattered, screaming and wailing ensued as the guards tore into the camp and gutted it. No one was spared, not even the dogs. I frantically kept my eyes out for the Valentine family, and finally caught hold of Davoren's shock of white hair, illuminated by the moonlight. He and the others mounted their horses, dropping every possession they had and turned to flee. Unfortunately, the attack had not been head-on. They were met by more guards, and I couldn't help but feel the twisting knot in my stomach as I saw the family I'd grown to adore get slaughtered.
I couldn't go down to help them. No matter how much I wanted to, I could not. There was far too much fire, and far too many people. The gypsies would question my motives, and Lord Kain said we were not to engage humans in battle unless it was food or self-defense, and they were not attacking me. So, it was with resigned pain that I gazed down upon Vincent as he held his mother's dead body in his arms, cradling her close and burying his face in her hair. I watched Davoren and Thatcher fighting back-to-back with swords drawn. Thatcher, grabbing Davoren and shoving him toward one of the horses, screaming at him to go with Vincent and escape from here, to never look back. Davoren, pulling Vincent away from their mother as the pair mounted their only surviving horse and turning to run as Thatcher's head was separated from his body, rolling across the ground. A sudden rain of arrows, and Davoren dropped from the horse clutching his chest, his back riddled with the shafts of arrows. Vincent turned to try to catch him, but more arrows slammed into him and the horse he rode. With a screaming whinny, the horse reared up and tossed Vincent to the ground just before it landed on top of him, crushing him.
It was like a bad dream, when you know you're having one... Desperately wishing to wake up, wishing that it would stop, that you could just open your eyes and everything would be okay. All I could do was stand and watch as the guards killed off the entire camp within twenty minutes, and left the burning ruins to return to the castle. Another half an hour, and I slowly made my way down to the ruins, walking through the dead bodies and making my way over to where Vincent and Davoren had fallen. I knelt beside Davoren's body and gently turned him over, but knew before I touched him that he had already passed on. I gazed down at his handsome face, so close for the first time, and twisted my brows in remorse. That snow white skin was marred by stress lines around his eyes and mouth, probably from the constant teasing and ridicule he received from the others. Sighing, I slowly rose up and made my way over to the horse that trapped Vincent's body.
My walk slowed as I picked up the faint, weak fluttering of a heartbeat. Moving around, I came upon Vincent's upper half. The rest of him from the waist down was crushed by the massive horse lying dead upon him. Kneeling, I reached out and gently brushed away some of the unruly long strands of hair from his face, gazing down on the pale beauty. His eyes slowly opened, and he stared up at me dimly, up at my pained expression, his expression blank. His sweet, lovely voice came out a hoarse wheeze, "...Vampire... Why... the concern...?"
I gazed down into those deep blue eyes remorsefully and replied truthfully, "I have enjoyed the life of your family for many years now..."
"...Why?" He was fading. The life in his eyes was slowly dimming.
"...I want you to join me. You and your brother." Again, my fingers gently brushed the untamable strands from his face, but they stubbornly fell straight back into place.
His head turned slightly, turning his eyes fully upon me. "...Join you...? Become... a vampire?"
"Yes," I replied quietly.
"...Mother and Father..."
"They have lived full lives. Their time is done. But yours, and Davoren's, are just beginning..."
Technically, I didn't have to give them a choice. Technically, I could have killed them off at any time and changed them. But a part of me wanted to hear it from at least one of them, hear that they wanted to be a vampire, were at least somewhat interested in joining me.
Vincent had been quiet for so long I thought he'd slipped into unconsciousness, save for his gaze never wavering from mine. I believe he saw something in my eyes... my truthfulness, or maybe he simply saw that I wanted to give him that choice rather than making the choice for him. I didn't speak to him... I let his own mind do the thinking as his body continued to shut down. At last, his eyes began to drift closed, and he whispered, "...Not without Davoren..." Moments later, he was dead.
As the fires died down, I called Necromancer down to the campsite as I freed Vincent and removed the arrows from his and his brother's bodies. Necromancer shifted uncomfortably as I placed the two dead bodies over his back, apologizing to him softly as I tied the bodies down so they would not slip off. "My apologies, old friend, but this is necessary. Would you please be patient with me for a moment longer?" A resigned snort was all he would give me, and I smiled despite myself, before I went to Victoria's and Thatcher's bodies. Away from the campsite, I found a lovely place to bury the bodies: on a small hill above the river, where a weeping willow provided some shelter for the graves, and wild lavender would soon grow over them. Vincent and Davoren would hopefully appreciate the sentiment, if they even remembered their parents at all.
The thought turned my gaze skyward as Necromancer and I headed back to the 'home' I had made for myself. Would they remember their pasts? I know I didn't, but I had been dead for so long that my body had decayed away to nothing. These two had only just perished, and I hoped to change them very soon. But if they did not remember, would they still be the same people I had grown so attached to?
I'd spruced up one of the many vampiric ruins that lay scattered and abandoned all over Nosgoth. Well... spruced it up all that I could without drawing attention. Most of it still looked run down, but I'd repaired some of the inner stonework and that which could not be seen from the outside had been turned into a very nice location. The underground hallways were lined with marble pillars which had remained intact throughout the years, and old gold-framed paintings were still in place. Stone tiles lined the hallways, the ceilings stretching upwards in gothic archways. The stone walls were intricately designed without being overwhelmingly detailed, and I had put the sconces in the walls to use with candles. Dimmer than torches, but it added more to the genre, and they tended to last longer.
Branching off from the hallways were rooms of varying sizes. One was a large library still filled with old books. It was two stories tall, a curving stairway leading up to the walkways that led to the books along the walls on the second floor. You can imagine how often Dumah came to 'visit' just to get in that library. Another looked like a study, and yet another, a large bathing chamber (for which I am having a hard time deciding what to do with). Other hallways led down to the dungeons, which I've been remodeling to make rooms rather than cells. The cells are spacious enough to make rooms of, and the doorway is secure and reinforced, a good thing for if I should ever be ambushed.
It was to one of the cell/rooms that I had brought Vincent and Davoren, and it was there that I waited for Lord Kain's arrival. I'd sent him a telepathic message to meet me here, so he could instruct me as to how to change my first fledgelings. Fortunately, I did not have to wait for him long. I recognized the muffled sounds of his cloven feet carrying him in long, lazy strides over the stonework.
Rising from the bed I'd placed the two men, I turned to Lord Kain and knelt down on one knee, bowing my head. It still seemed strange for me to do this when we had 'grown up' knowing that such a formality was unnecessary. That he still insisted it to be done in private was somewhat irksome.
Lord Kain's appearance had changed yet again. While in the rest of us, our Gifts continued to manifest in abilities (and a light sprinkling of gold in the blue of my irises), Kain's gifts were changing his physical form as of late. He was taller, more muscular, and his veins were becoming more prominent. His skin was also adopting a slightly golden tint to it. (It looked almost green in certain types of lighting, and we very quickly found out that to make any mention or reference to his skin being green was to merit a very swift and excruciatingly painful punishment.)
His golden eyes glanced to me and made a dismissing gesture while he walked over to the bodies and observed them in the dim lighting. "...I do hope you picked them for reasons other than their good looks, Raziel," he muttered lowly.
"Of course," I replied somewhat defensively. "I've been watching them for years now. They were gypsies - their camp was attacked and they were killed. I talked to Vincent - the dark-haired one - before he died, and he sounded like he would not mind being a vampire as long as his brother was at his side."
"Really," Kain replied sarcastically. "And what are they good for? Dancing, singing, drinking? Are they going to serenade the humans we battle against?"
"Vincent excells in the crossbow and Davoren is more skilled with a sword," I replied a touch coldly. "They are both very knowledgable in stealth and tracking, for they trained to hunt deer and rabbits. And we both know how blind, deaf, and clumsy humans are. Compared to deer and rabbits, humans are lumbering cows. They will have no problem at all."
He smirked at me, and I felt my blood boil slightly as I realized he was poking at my temper. He knew well about the gypsies and how preferable turning one of them would be to turning some random bum off the streets. He was simply giving me a hard time. "Well, Raziel, do you think you are truly old and skilled enough to handle the responsibility?"
I nodded curtly. "Yes, m'lord."
"And if you fuck up with them, you realize that I will not assist you in the matter?"
"...Yes."
"They must at all times live for our cause. If they do not wish to help fight our war, you will be the one to exterminate them. Do I make myself clear?" he growled lowly, his eyes locking on my own.
I frowned. "Yes, sir."
He smirked slowly. "Good. Now, we shall commence with the change. You can only turn one fledgeling a night, so choose wisely which one would be better able to handle it first."
"Vincent," I replied immediately. Davoren was more hot-tempered, and Vincent would hopefully remember what he had said with me.
"Very well. And you have fed well tonight?"
I huffed slightly. "I always do."
As always, he seemed amused by my temper. "Perfect. The process is more instinctual the first time. You'll get the hang of it very quickly. Go to Vincent's body. When there is a human that your vampiric instincts know would make a good fledgeling, you'll feel a sort of pull around your heart, especially when you are very close and they are already dead. You've probably already felt it." I.. supposed I had. I probably mistook it for grief over their loss... The feelings are more or less the same.
"When you've decided to change them, it may help to place your hands upon their chests so you can have both a physical and a spiritual link to them. Call out to their soul with your power. Close your eyes if it helps. You'll get the sensation of the world dropping out beneath your feet, and you will 'see' into the spiritual realm. You will 'see' the spirit of the one you wish to change. Lure them back to their bodies, draw them into it. Settle them in, and bind them there with your vampiric energy. That is the process which will change them. Open your eyes and withdraw, and behold your newly-born fledgeling."
I stared at him with an expression on my face that probably looked somewhat akin to 'what the bloody HELL are you talking about?' Slowly, I blinked, and replied in the most sarcastic tone I could muster, "...And you call that instinctual?"
Kain snorted. "You may not have been able to figure it out without being told, Raziel, but I certainly was. It was almost pathetically simple to figure out." His chin lifted up and he gazed down at me haughtily, smirking. "Though... I was quite a bit older, and far more wise than you are at this point in time."
I gritted my teeth to keep from cursing at him. Once, his arrogance had been strangely arousing. Now, it was downright annoying. I just wanted to smack him. If he was so bloody smart, why was he the ONLY one in the entire existence of my life to NOT be able to pronounce my name correctly? 'Ra-', pronounced the same way as 'raw', is how it is supposed to be pronounced. RA-ziel. Not Raa-ziel. Dear god, it grates on my nerves.
"Right," I huffed. "Well. Thank you for teaching me, Oh-Wise-And-Mighty Lord of Nosgoth. If you'll excuse me, I have fledgelings to create."
I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw ached while Lord Kain turned and strode from the dungeon, his head thrown back as he laughed uproariously. What a bastard.
I waited until he was completely gone from the castle before I turned to Vincent. Pausing a moment, I covered Davoren's body with a sheet. It might have been a little bit too unsettling for Vincent to awaken in a bed next to his deceased brother. Standing over him, I placed my hands over his chest and closed my eyes. The tugging around my heart reached out, my vampiric energy seeming to almost grow an appendage to reach out and brush over the body. Upon not sensing a soul, it delved into him to search, and true to Kain's word, I felt the ground just drop out beneath my feet. Abruptly, I opened my eyes, and sucked in a startled breath as I was suddenly within a cavernous area, with everything around me burning blue. Bright white souls drifted about, and my eyes were drawn to one of the souls drifting off by itself. Willing myself towards it, I reached out to touch the spirit's shoulder. The spirit turned to face me as I reached out and took its hand, gently giving a tug for it to follow.
Vincent's spirit seemed reluctant to follow at first, but sensed no malice from me as I drew him back up to his body. When he saw his body, he did not even hesitate. Somehow I understood that his death had been so recent, that as soon as his spirit saw his body, he would do all that he could to get back in it. From there, it was simple to bind him with my power, though I was a little unprepared for the exhaustion I felt as the tie was cut. I felt drained of my energy... and as I gazed down at Vincent, watching his ears gain a slight point to them, watching the lips part as fangs grew in his mouth, as his already-pale skin turned white as porcelain, I realized that, although I had given my power to him, I was still attached to it.
So, this was the empathetic bind that Kain experienced with us... The power within us was rightfully Kain's, and in a way we were extentions of Kain's energy. This was probably a sort of vampiric fail-safe... That if a fledgeling proved to be unworthy, the sire could withdraw their energy, and the fledgeling would simply die. But were the fledgeling to live long enough, eventually the energy within him would be recognized as his own, and any tie with the sire would be severed. The empathy was a direct cause of Kain's vampiric energy in us sending our messages back to him.
Vincent's eyes slowly opened... Drowsy, stiffly... Muscles attempting to move after having been locked up in rigor mortis. His eyes snapped to my own, brows drawing downward in abrupt recognition. I felt relief flood through me, glad to know that he still remembered the life he had before. I eased myself down to sit on the bed as he stiffly sat up and regarded me with an almost unsettling stony gaze. "...You're the--" Abruptly he cut himself off, reaching a hand up to touch the fangs he felt within his mouth, but his hand didn't even reach as he caught sight of his nails, now turned to sharp claws. His thin, dark brows shot up in surprise as he looked at me again, seemingly lost for words.
I offered a slightly tired smile. "Yes. My name is Raziel." I paused a moment, unsure as to how to continue. Damn, I should have thought up a speech or something... "...I'm sorry, I haven't revived your brother yet. I won't be able to until tomorrow evening."
"..." Vincent turned his head, wispy raven hair falling all around his face, turning to stare at the sheet-covered body to his side. His expression became pained for a moment, then cleared to a blank expression. "Perhaps that is best. I would like to know what this life will be like first. If it is something truly loathsome and undesirable, at least Davoren won't have to experience it."
I nodded gently. "Like everything else in this world, Vampirism has its pros and cons. On the one side, you gain capabilities far superior to a human's. Your vision, hearing, smell, strength, speed, and endurance are all amplified. A new world will open up to you. There is also the intense pleasure of feeding. On the other hand, you are unable to touch water, and you must stay out of the sunlight for your first century or so. The foods you enjoyed as a human, you are unable to consume now..."
Long into the night, we spoke. Actually... I spoke. Vincent barely said a thing. Without his family around him, he seemed the type to only speak when he had something important or necessary to say. Which, frankly, was all right with me. I told him about my own rebirth, about Lord Kain and our mission. I told him of the tales of my past (the less... personal ones), of our victories and defeats, our discoveries and such. Through it all, Vincent remained raptly attuned to every word.
Finally, as dawn began to approach, I slowed in mid-sentence as I felt an almost agonizingly intense hunger. I nearly slapped myself in realization that it was not I that was hungry, but Vincent, and I'd completely neglected to feed him. And he'd neglected to say a bloody word about it. With a sigh, I stated, "You're hungry."
Vincent blinked slightly, calm as ever. "Yes."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"..." Vincent turned his head to the side, gathering his thoughts. "...Your words are more important than my hunger at this moment."
I sighed and took off one of my gloves, offering my wrist out to him. "Drink. You need to if you're going to survive the night."
Vincent looked skeptically at my wrist, then at me. I suddenly got the impression that such an obviously intimate thing should only be done between lovers, and not between nearly-complete strangers, especially if what I had said about the pleasure of feeding was true. I blinked slightly. This empathy thing was definitely going to take some getting used to.
Finally, he relented, and delicately grasped my wrist in his long, pale fingers. Slowly lifting it up to his mouth, his instincts took over, and his fangs sunk into my skin. I tried to prepare myself for the pleasure, but the feeling of Vincent drinking from my blood was double the ecstacy of anything I'd ever experienced. My spine nearly bowed with the intensity of it, of the heated white waves of pleasure pounding through my body. It must have been the empathetic link, I was feeling both my own and his pleasure. If this was how it felt, how the hell could Kain have possibly kept his composure?
Distantly, I felt that he would drain me dry if I did not stop him immediately, and so I struggled to pull my wrist back, whispering breathlessly, "Vincent... stop... that's enough!"
Abruptly he released my wrist and let his back hit the headboard, clamping a hand over his mouth and closing his eyes as he gasped for breath and struggled to regain his own composure. His chest heaved, his skin slightly flushed with the fresh blood running through his system. Once again I was thankful for tight leather pants, and pitied Vincent's oh-so-apparent state at the moment.
I suddenly realized that Vincent was whispering something. I leaned forward slightly and caught the faintly whispered apology on his lips. "...You're sorry? For what? It was your first feeding... And you were starving besides."
"...I nearly drained you..." he managed to whisper from behind his hand, eyes still screwed shut, apparently doing all he could to control the raging desire.
"Really, Vincent, it's all right," I reassured him somewhat breathlessly. A thought abruptly occured to me. What would happen if I had been drained dry? I didn't think it would kill me, but I couldn't be sure... Another question to ask of Lord Kain later. After we'd each had a few minutes to calm down, I murmured, "You're feeling better, now?" A simple nod was all I got. Yes, his hunger was sated, and the raging desire had faded, but he was ashamed of his own reaction. I sighed softly, "You'll get used to it in time... In any case, it is just about dawn. Get some rest, and we'll decide tomorrow whether or not you wish to continue, and whether or not you'd like your brother changed."
Vincent's eyes slowly opened, gazing up at me as I rose up and departed from the cell. I attempted to try and pick up on what he was feeling, but he was lost in his thoughts already, and I could not sense a thing as to what he was feeling. Perhaps he was simply feeling nothing... I couldn't be sure. I only hoped that tomorrow evening I would not have to return him to his grave.
A/N: Eheh... Long chapter. I hope this makes up at least a little for the long-ass time it's taken me to get this out. To my 101st reviewer, "Light" : A massive apology to you especially, for taking so long to get the chapter out. I lost your e-mail address somewhere along the way so I couldn't just send you the link to the picture once I'd finished it.
Since I can't post the link here on the page, just send me an e-mail with a request and I'llreply witha link to the page it's on. This goes for everyone who wants to see it!
Raziel: Yes, I do believe you owe them at least that much for making them wait so long.
ShadowWolf: Hey! ...Be nice to me, I'm a procrastinator.
Raziel: Pshaw. (Bonks her on the head) You need to get out of that habit. Badly.
ShadowWolf: Ow... (Clutches her head)
Vincent: ... (Bonks her head as well)
ShadowWolf: OW. Hey! What was that for!
Vincent: ...For stating my obvious condition after feeding for the first time. That was unnecessary. For killing my family. That was highly unnecessary.
ShadowWolf: I had to! You're not Vincent without being uber-angsty, and with the way I had your family, I had to figure out a good way to make sure you'd BE angsty.
Vincent: ...How... thoughtful of you.
ShadowWolf: Shut up. I love you. Hence the Dirge of Cerberus wall scroll, the solid resin statue of you, the Advent Children action figure of you, oh, and the two-foot $850 Dollfie I modified to look just like you. And the smaller $60 dollfie that I moded after you.
Raziel: Yeah. And she only has one action figure of me. So consider yourself special.
Vincent: ... (Strokes his chin thoughtfully) ...Perhaps.
Kain: What happened to the action figure you had of ME?
ShadowWolf: ...It's buried somewhere in my closet because it's freakin' FUGLY.
Kain: ...! (Tears build in his eyes) I am NOT fugly!
ShadowWolf: No, you're not fugly at all. Which is why I hate that action figure.
Kain: ...Oh. (Ego re-inflates)
ShadowWolf: Yeah. Stop ganging up on me! I updated and got the piccie done! Be proud of me!
Raziel: Hmm... Maybe this calls for nookie...
ShadowWolf: ...But I thought you were gay!
Raziel: Not with YOU. (Looks at Vincent)
Vincent: ... (Shimmies behind the 5'1'' ShadowWolf and tries to hide)
ShadowWolf: (Exaspirated look) You suck.
Raziel: No, tonight someone else will be doing the sucking! (Wanders off)
ShadowWolf: Jerk.