Thread: For Whom the Darkness Parts [Med/Fant roleplay. Accepting]

Vincent remained quiet when the warrior spoke up again, stating that this was not her fight, the deliberately avoided eye contact with the fiercely intelligent bird, something Vincent payed only minor attention to it, even as the raven stood on the table it's gaze unbroken on the female. It was only a short bit before the bird lost interest and climbed back onto Vincent's arm, staying close to him while the female stood and left the table, heading towards her private room. Vincent himself stood and looked around the room, the raven fluttering it's wings to propel itself onto his shoulder. The warlock looked out from his hood at sal when he spoke to him, offering him a private room. Yes, I am afraid the journey has taken quite a bit out of me, but I do not think I will be needing a private room Vincent looked out from under the hood at Sal, the single dark eye peering out from under the hood before he turned around I will remain here for a little bit, I hope your associates wouldn't mind that Vincent gave Sal a small smile before turning away from him and walking over to a chair nearby before sitting down I will retire when I am ready Like Sal Vincent had never really slept all that much and when he did it was never in a bed. The man had found the comfiest chair he could and sat down, holding his staff to prop himself upright so he could meditate on the situation at hand. It was a lot to take in. Vincent could clearly remember the beautiful face of the goddess of mystery as she spoke to him as she told him what he had to hear, she told him she had been watching him, and by following these people Vincent would be able to learn what he had wanted. What was his heart's desire? Perhaps he did not even know that. Vincent did not trust these people still, he knew the woman had been chosen by the hunter, but what had the older man been chosen for vincent did not know, though he had to trust him. He was also unnerved by the fact that he knew Vincent even this far away from the forest was also stunning, his reputation was restrained to traders and merchants this far out. And the woman, a beautiful, mysterious woman that almost reminded him of someone he had known, she had been through a lot, events in her past that not even Vincent could look into, thee memories were well hidden within her mind, and even to a skilled mage they were still cloudy, the other male's memories were likewise guarded, but by force rather than buried. From his new seat Vincent tilted his head, for the first time the brilliant glow of his other eye emerged from the hood. His right eye had a brilliant glow, one that shone through the hood he wore. This glow only lasted for a second before once again being covered by the dark locks of hair that covered half his face. The warlock turned his vision down and closed his eyes, focusing inwardly as he meditated. While he did so however the raven perched on his shoulder served as a lookout for him, it was a Crebain, no being, magical or non could get close to him without Vincent knowing. He always wore his hood in town, the townspeople being none too friendly with his peculiarities, the people of the big cities had closed minds and superstitions, seeing a man like Vincent would cause a scare, his demonic looks standing out. Vincent's eyes remained closed as his gloved hands came up, lowering his hood and showing the full of his face for the first time in the night. the silence of the common room allowing him to rest fully in the chair. Vincent was able to extend his consciousness beyond the walls with his eyes closed, seeing if only for a few moments what was happening around the city, viewing his two new companions, Lucy in her room and Sal outside, vanishing into the night. Vincent turned his focus inward, rebuilding his energy, tomorrow was likely to be as hectic as this evening. Satisfied with himself he finally was able to fall into a light sleep in that very chair with the bird perched on his shoulder, his arms folded and his eyes closed, his stave resting in the crook of his arms and his blade, wrapped in leather at his side. He would remain like this until morning most likely his dreams coming to him lightly, dreams of dark things, dreams of solitude.