[ Vincent is not asleep, nor is he in the bath. But there are signs that the latter has occurred when the sound of the locks being undone is followed by the door opening.
Mind you, this is solely because his hair still looks a bit damp. The man is fully dressed and kitted but at least his clothes aren't damp as well. Cloud, somewhere, may indeed rest easy with someone else's knowledge that Vincent does indeed know how to bathe without his clothes on.
Probably.
The young woman gets a bit of a study. Ruby eyes flick to glance around the hall for any signs of issues. Then the door opens further and Vincent's right hand is sliding Cerberus- drawn and hidden behind the half open door but at the ready in case it was someone pretending to be someone they are not- back into the holster.
No big deal. ]
Aerith. Did you need something?
[ He doesn't stand aside immediately. She might just be passing by on the way to her cabin. Or she's calling him out. ]
[ Even if she had been surprised, Vincent probably would have been open about what he had hidden behind the door. Not as a warning, but more because he didn't see the need to hide how he is.
Particularly not in the wake of events that recently occurred.
Still, the answer she gives earns Aerith an unblinking stare. He had to know something ludicrous was going to come out, despite the sense of urgency the first words of it had suggested. Desperately.
He really had not expected it to be followed with remarks about the state of his hair. ]
What?
[ One second, his mind is catching up. After a bit more processing, in which he absolutely refuses to give into the impulse to reach up and touch said dark locks, he blinks and heaves a large sigh. Right, humor.
Also hey! There's nothing wrong with his hair! He uses the same care as always. You know. Shampoo, brush and comb, towel dry, wrap it out of the way again with a scarf. Probably not in that particular order. He shakes his head and might be a bit amused. ]
Come in. I was having a glass of wine.
[ The offer is extended. He's clearly going to avoid talk about his hair care routine but at least he's not so far gone as to completely reject Aerith's visit.
....Or is it that? There's a lot of concessions he'll give for her, particularly as he's been in the habit lately of bothering her and he suspects there's something to this visit that's more than just a passing thought. And maybe certain visitors would be welcome, opposed to being left alone with his thoughts.
Having a glass of wine. This is of course Vincent speak for 'want to join me?' ]
[For some reason, that didn't surprise her that she'd caught him off guard. She doesn't usually quip at him like this, but it was overdue. He was her friend after all; that meant he was now in the circle that was the Gently Bullied by her and teased. Everyone had a way of showing their affection, and that- along with physical contact- was how Aerith showed hers.
And she had a feeling that he would like the former more then the latter. No special reason. Just because.]
Wine? That sounds perfect. That might curb some of my sangria cravings.
[Him? Bothering her and trying to make sure she was taking care of herself? Clearly not doing anything like returning the favor? Since no one was clearly making sure that he was okay.
Someone had to look out for the watcher.
Given the space, she'd breeze in, glancing around. If she spots the coffin...it won't take much to make her grin.
[ Space is made, Aerith is permitted to pass and Vincent will close the door and lock it behind her.
In Vincent's space, the only door that really remains closed is the one to his 'study' which is also the armory. Closed and locked for practical reasons when he's not making use of it. So the doors to the 'bedrooms' are open, one with a coffin the other with a normal bed.
The main area is full of furniture with a slightly faded antique feel. Not worn or broken or rotted, mind you. Just well aged but still fantastically serviceable, from an age where they 'still did things right'. A couch, a couple of chairs, some nice tables and lamps. Decor is sparse but there are some pieces.
It makes a particular one more noticeable for its ostentatious nature amidst small landscape paintings and the single black succulent that someone gifted him recently. A small statue of semi-transparent crystal which seems to embody a female figure within. The clarity is not so great that any features can be determined.
By one of the chairs is the open bottle of wine and a glass that's got a measure poured into it. There's also a book from the library; bookmarked with, of all things, an origami bat.
Hanna would be pleased to know that it's getting honest use.
There's a clitter-clatter of cabinet doors and the fetch of another wine glass from the shelf. Maybe it's surprising in itself that he actually has something for visitors in the first place. Maybe not. ]
Sangria, huh. Haven't had one of those in a long time.
[ He crosses the room, where he'll take the bottle with the intention of pouring Aerith a glass of the red wine and offering it. ]
[She would have been surprised if he hadn't locked the door behind her.
But the decorations were notalgic in a way. It reminded her of the slums, a little of how her own room was, but for the small crystal. Her decor depended on the flowers which she changed every so often. It was still...funny how close their rooms seemed to reflect what was home to them.
Though the bat was clearly a Hanna touch. Which was rather charming, and made her a little sad, thinking of the young man and his current mental state. That was...something to be touched on another time.
Instead of going to the table though, she moved towards the couch, moving to sit there instead. It looked far more comfortable. And besides, she didn't have one in her living space. She took what comfort she could.]
I haven't either. But I was speaking to Hakkai- he works in the kitchens- and we talked about using some of the crab apples for it. Some of the citrus too but...the apples would be the unknown if it'll really work work part.
[She'll take the wine when it's offered. It'll be nice to share a drink with a friend.]
[ With Aerith settled on the couch- it's comfortable to sit on and maybe sprawl on but jury's out on whether it would be comfy to sleep on- and given a glass of wine, Vincent's hosting duties are largely over. That is to say he returns to the seat he'd been clearly occupying when she arrived and settles in. Couch and chair face each other so it'll be no problem holding conversation. ]
Hm. Could try soaking them if they end up being too tart. [ He adds clarification. ] Like a sloe gin.
[ Sugar, liquor and apples. What could go wrong? Especially if you need to test different varieties to find the perfect mixer? ]
[If he didn't want to sit with her, that was okay. And it was facing her so good enough. She took a few moments to smell the wine, taking in a slow breath.]
There might be some in the Lounge, if we're lucky.
[She leans against the couch cushions closing her eyes.]
I'll have to try them. Maybe bring some over so we can compare notes? See if they need the gin. Because I want to make a huge batch.
Maybe we can stick some in the freezer. Cheer up emergencies.
[ Vincent reaches for his glass of wine and lifts it to take a sip. It's enjoyed, clearly. And while it's no sangria, one might argue it could be an excellent base.
Though it is probably meant to be enjoyed by itself without embellishment. ]
Mm.
[ A sound of agreement, a nod. And then... a curious stillness. Almost like Vincent flinches slightly when Aerith proffers the suggestion that she come over and they talk shop on the different solutions.
While he'd not been looking at her directly, Vincent's gaze clearly slides to the side one moment. He almost seems... uncomfortable. It's gone in an instant and he nods. ]
Maybe not gin. The brandy. Or something close.
[ Something that's already meant to be part of the sangria itself, though certainly not the wine part. They'll likely need to be careful on the balance of sugar too.
They, yes. Vincent bites back the urge to suggest that Aerith is welcome to take these ideas and speak to those that she's already talked about this with. Hakkai and whoever else.
For the sake of a good friend he'll take on a little more. ]
[She sees it. Of course she does, because to do otherwise would be to...well, be a bad friend. The hesitation, and the careful way of what he was speaking.
She doesn't take the sip then and instead lowers her glass. Gently so, having the base of the glass rests against her thigh.]
Vincent...
[She starts, and stops. Sighs.]
Forget about the sangria okay? If I make it, or anything else, I'll bring it to you.
And the hair conditioner. You really do need to take the time for your hair. Spilt ends aren't a good look you know.
[ For a second he looks set to protest. But then Vincent closes his eyes and sighs again. There's some mild amusement in his tone as he speaks. ]
...That obvious, huh?
[ At least he isn't denying it. He's clearly not talking about his hair because he will address that in a moment. ]
I don't mind making time for you, Aerith. Just... don't bring anyone else by. Or bring the ingredients and I'll work on my own. I'll send you the results.
[ Compromise. And in his own awkward way, trying to express that it isn't her. The heart is willing but the soul is... weary right now. Another sip of wine is taken. He muses adding a more direct apology, but decides against it for now. Instead it's time to speak about his hair.
This time he does lift his hand, tweaking a lock between his fingers and giving it a puzzled look. ]
[ Related to bringing others over. Regardless he seems to relax a little just on that assurance alone. He's thankful for her understanding, he really is.
Vincent looks up from his hair as he lets his hand drop. The sharp manner of this gesture suggests a denial on his lips. He's not that ignorant. ]
I'm not out to impress anyone you know.
[ Which suggests a few things. One, he might be intentionally lax or not really caring about his hair routine. People care when they want to be presentable and not keep folk at a distance. Two, there was probably a point in his life he did, in fact, take better care of his looks. For one, he was a Turk and there was a certain standard of appearance that goes with wearing the suit... more or less. Two, he did have a woman he fancied.
Aerith will receive a good, hard look when she follows up with her innocent (but not) suggestion of the time and... well, time it will take to correct the tragedy that is Vincent Valentine's hair. And he has to laugh at it. Yes, he understands what she's aiming for. ]
Seems a lot of work. Are you trying to say I'm being too social? Me?
[ Vincent does let his gaze trail to his book and the wine bottle but there's also his old habits of simply splitting off from the party and finding a place to hang out in solitude until he absolutely had to engage in social activities.
Ah but that's the problem isn't it? The normal things Vincent does to keep himself sane in these types of settings, he's either not allowing himself or thinking he can't. And that's saying nothing of whatever traumas the last few days probably dredged up for him which are even more taxing. ]
I would, if I wanted to invite someone over to your room. Which I don't. This is your place.
[Just so Vincent will know. She does have people come over- Cain came over to check on her during the fog, Zack could consider her place an extention of his place, with or without Zeke.
But Vincent needed to recharge. People could and would be a lot at any time.
Hence the hair. And hence while she waited for the implications and the idea to sink in.]
You don't need to do it to impress anyone.
But we've all been through a lot. You made sure I napped when I was pushing myself.
Has anyone looked out for you?
[Has anyone checked in on Vincent at all? Did anyone think to?]
[ One day Vincent might shock Aerith by suggesting a connecting door. But that's still a bit away if it happens at all. It'd just... be convenient? Or something.
But... The gunman doesn't really make it easy for people to check up on him and so when the question about whether people have stopped by or 'looked out for him' is delivered, he answers with a shrug. ]
Yeah, probably. And I do get some sleep on my own.
[ And to be clear the probably means 'yes' but whether or not they're as direct as Aerith is could be in question. Maybe some were even more direct! Maybe she's the first.
It's probably also true that Vincent still is pushing himself in subtle ways. Vincent shifts his regard back to the young woman. ]
...Fine, do what you want. Just don't suggest I cut it.
[ While he makes it sound like it's too much effort or too much of a change to go for a shorter hairstyle (or really any hairstyle at all), there's something in his tone that might infer something deeper.
It really would be too much to go back to having it look like it did when he was still human. ]
[She'd be shocked. Vincent, wanting a connecting door? Then realizing it was to keep a better eye on her and possibly the people dropping by...yeah, that would make sense.
Though the answer of being checked on is vague. And him being able to sleep...well, he may be the Barge's best sleeper.
She waits though to hear the real answer, and gets it. And she nods slowly.]
It'd be kind of silly to suggest you cut it at all. No...I'd just want to make it a little...healthier. Maybe get some tangles.
[ It would also be a way to give her a means to come into his room without NEEDING to knock and wait for permission. But ssh. He's not ready for that. ]
Bathroom.
[ Because of course everything he needs to make himself look nominally presentable is going to be in there. She'll find one that's a fairly decent type, along with a comb. Hair products? Haha! Surely you jest. Well there is shampoo, maybe a little more fancier than can be expected by his attitude. Old habits maybe? After all, why change a product that works? Either way signs are strong that hair care starts and stops at a few post shower ministrations.
Why, you may wonder, does Vincent not fetch these items for himself. Well after pointing Aerith in the direction- maybe as much to give her time to collect an idea of what she has to work with so as to avoid having to answer the questions that could be answered by seeing for herself- she will return to find his wine glass empty. He's removed the red cloak and it's now draped across the back of the chair that had not been in use and finally unwound the scarf that's usually holding his hair away from his eyes. His hair really is long. The few inches drawn up because of wrap and other elements of his clothes now place the longest parts near the tail bone rather than mid-back as it had always seemed. At the same time it's probably clear that there's plenty of different lengths.
Overall, he needed a bit of time to brace himself. Even if it's Aerith, this is still far outside his comfort zone and it's pretty clear that anyone else would have been shoved out of the room for even suggesting this project if they'd dared. ]
[She drifts to the bathroom and it's all there. The brush, the comb, all of it. The shampoo...she takes a moment to smell it. It's expensive. It reminds her of Midgar in its scent somehow. Not bad, but a sense of home no longer there, for any of them anymore.
What she hadn't expected to see- much like a future where their rooms were connected- was the state of...well, undress. Wrap gone, cloak draped. This Vincent is so..vulnerable in a way he wasn't. Not usually.
She nearly turned around from the shock of seeing his hair so long and uneven.
Instead, Aerith strode forward, brush in hand.]
Wherever you want to sit Vincent. And you can out the cloak back on, if you'd like.
It won't get in the way.
[Maybe she should suggest more wine but thay felt insulting.]
[ He just... let it grow. Of course sleeping most of three decades probably contributed to this factor.
Some of it is falling forward to cover his features but that's probably to be expected without the wrap to hold it back. ...Right?
Still it's strange indeed how different it seems right now, compared to when he offered his cloak as a blanket. He didn't seem as stripped bare then. And that's likely because the place was public and he wasn't about to let someone further into his personal space than he generally ever allowed. ]
Hmph. It's already off.
[ He does appreciate it but even in his discomfort or maybe because of some stubborn pride, he isn't going to reach for it. Vincent instead strides to the kitchen table, where a simple backed chair is grabbed and dragged over to an open space. It will be low enough to let Aerith comfortably work. The former Turk sits. ]
My looks can't be that bad, can they?
[ Dry in tone, almost amused. Well... one might suspect he knows his appearance is not bad. The uncanny pallor and his eyes aside, there's nothing at all to suggest that he's less than human nor what he suffered in becoming what he is now. ]
Besides, there's always the wine.
[ Which he isn't going for, but at least now Aerith won't need to be wondering if it would be bad form to suggest it. ]
[It was a long time to let his hair grow. Bangs are to be expected, though having been grown out...it would get into his face.
It was different though. In his space, with his headwrap off, the cloak off...Vincent seemed smaller somehow. Not diminished, but less mysterious, closer to the human he was once. But she waits for him to make his choice, both with whether the cloak would come back on, and where he would sit.]
Vincent? Maybe it's the mysterious aura that you have at all times but?
You're very pretty.
[And she gently pats Vincent on the shoulder as she carefully moves behind him. Sure he's got the whole vampire chic going for him, but no doubt he's gotten his share of looks since his arrival. People here are, Aerith noticed, very hungry for very physical things on the ship.
That all said, she starts to move the comb vertically through his hair. Gentle, careful, as she looks for possible tangles that could be in his locks.]
Since I'm up...want me to refill your glass? It might give you some fortitude in case I find a snarl or something.
[ He isn't exactly flustered and the complaint is probably offered more as an outlet for his general anxiety over being exposed. But yeah, he's going to be the type to complain about being called 'pretty'. The way the indifference settles quickly again suggests that thoughts of his personal appearance in the eyes of others simply do not linger if they'd crossed his mind at all.
The heat of attraction to another has not warmed his body for a very long time.
As was mentioned before, his hair is still lightly damp and cool. And just as you would expect from towel-dried hair that was wrapped back up, there's going to be a few snags and wavy bits to smooth out. Though for what it's worth, there's nothing egregious; he'd done some due diligence with comb and brush. ]
I won't say no.
[ To the wine. Even if he's fully aware that he won't need it to fight against the pain of some persnickety knot. ]
[She chuckles under her breath. She might tell him one day of how Cloud had been pretty when he was dressed up after the Honey Bee Inn. But it really wasn't about finding him a romance. She never even thought. This was more...to bring him all centered. Relax him even, if that was possible with someone being around.
Even if that someone was her.
Though his hair was still mildly damp, it does seem to be easy to brush. But she pauses in her detangling in order to come around and refill his glass of wine. ]
Here you go.
[She offers it to him. Once it's taken, she'll go back to the snags and waves.]
[ Yes, Aerith. Tell Vincent the comparison she's trying to make for pretty people was the same as that time Cloud got dolled up in drag. He might then have some concerns about what plans she has for him. The former Turk sighs. Of course his protest wasn't the point. The banter however is going to help.
So is that wine, which he takes when she brings it over and has a sip before she's settled in to begin again. Never fear, the process will not interfere with his ability to take the occasional drink and he has quite the high pain tolerance besides. There's still tension in his shoulders; something far more easily read without the added layer of red over his clothes.
There is always the common risk that time with Vincent Valentine would be subject to long moments of absolute silence. Where people can tell him stories he can react to works out just fine. If it's business, he can talk quite a bit. But times like this are when he's out of his element. For a few long moments he struggles to find something to say just for the sake of saying something. ]
...Did you manage to get some sleep?
[ It's... not really small talk. There he goes, caring again. ]
[Thankfully, she did not have to sneak Vincent anywhere in a dress. Nor was there a reason to dress him up. To even dress him down even...though she was sure he'd be comfortable in sweatpants and a hoodie, given the chance.
Aerith's hands are gentle, and gentler still around the few snags he has. The waves of his hair she thinks might be due to the headband.
But the tension in hid shoulders...maybe this was too much? She wasn't sure.
The topic choice does make her huff though and she offers his shoulder the gentlest of pushes.]
Yes, I did. It's getting easier. Hakkai and Ulla were very helpful.
I was wondering how you've been sleeping. I doubt you stayed here the whole time.
[Meaning he also saw thinks that hid in the dark.]
[ Would he wear comfy lounging clothes? Yes. Would he allow himself to be caught in them? DUBIOUS.
The waves are almost certainly because of the wrap as the comb does bring back a natural tendency to straight locks as the work progresses. Whatever else can be said about the man's grooming habits, they have not done any real harm to the thick mane.
Aerith might even note how he occasionally lifts a hand, intending to comb the long bangs back out of his face before remembering someone's actually working on it. ]
Good.
[ He's going to absolutely ignore the slight shove to his shoulder but stills, this time arresting the motion of bringing the glass of wine to his lips again. Silence. ]
No, I didn't.
[ In fact the times he found his room, particularly after the Otherworld fully descended on the Barge, were only very short visits to wash off the worst of the grime, restock on bullets and get back out to work. But it's not really about how much work he put in. It's what he had to confront.
She's behind him. But still without the cloak's high collar there's more of his face to see or glimpse if she's a mind to. The way his jaw might clench as he thinks of how to answer; there's no real good one here if he wants to be honest. And it's probably not worth it to lie. ]
Same as ever. [ Quietly spoken. A forced dry tone. ] Hmph. It's been a long time since I slept without nightmares to haunt me. Nothing that place could do about that.
[ And it's true in its horrible way. The Otherworld had created elements of his trauma, sure. But what nightmares could it have created that would have matched ones he'd endured for three decades? Well, that's certainly terrible enough to think about.
He finishes the glass of wine and absently twists it in his fingers, looking thoughtful. ]
The worst it could do is expose what I am to others.
[ He almost sounds amused. After all, how out of place was he on the Barge, really? ]
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Mind you, this is solely because his hair still looks a bit damp. The man is fully dressed and kitted but at least his clothes aren't damp as well. Cloud, somewhere, may indeed rest easy with someone else's knowledge that Vincent does indeed know how to bathe without his clothes on.
Probably.
The young woman gets a bit of a study. Ruby eyes flick to glance around the hall for any signs of issues. Then the door opens further and Vincent's right hand is sliding Cerberus- drawn and hidden behind the half open door but at the ready in case it was someone pretending to be someone they are not- back into the holster.
No big deal. ]
Aerith. Did you need something?
[ He doesn't stand aside immediately. She might just be passing by on the way to her cabin. Or she's calling him out. ]
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Oh yes. Desperately.
[No doubt he knows how her voice lits that it's not actually serious at all. But her eyes light on his hair, before going back to his red eyes.]
I need to lend you my conditioner. I noticed that lately...your hair is not doing its best.
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Particularly not in the wake of events that recently occurred.
Still, the answer she gives earns Aerith an unblinking stare. He had to know something ludicrous was going to come out, despite the sense of urgency the first words of it had suggested. Desperately.
He really had not expected it to be followed with remarks about the state of his hair. ]
What?
[ One second, his mind is catching up. After a bit more processing, in which he absolutely refuses to give into the impulse to reach up and touch said dark locks, he blinks and heaves a large sigh. Right, humor.
Also hey! There's nothing wrong with his hair! He uses the same care as always. You know. Shampoo, brush and comb, towel dry, wrap it out of the way again with a scarf. Probably not in that particular order. He shakes his head and might be a bit amused. ]
Come in. I was having a glass of wine.
[ The offer is extended. He's clearly going to avoid talk about his hair care routine but at least he's not so far gone as to completely reject Aerith's visit.
....Or is it that? There's a lot of concessions he'll give for her, particularly as he's been in the habit lately of bothering her and he suspects there's something to this visit that's more than just a passing thought. And maybe certain visitors would be welcome, opposed to being left alone with his thoughts.
Having a glass of wine. This is of course Vincent speak for 'want to join me?' ]
no subject
And she had a feeling that he would like the former more then the latter. No special reason. Just because.]
Wine? That sounds perfect. That might curb some of my sangria cravings.
[Him? Bothering her and trying to make sure she was taking care of herself? Clearly not doing anything like returning the favor? Since no one was clearly making sure that he was okay.
Someone had to look out for the watcher.
Given the space, she'd breeze in, glancing around. If she spots the coffin...it won't take much to make her grin.
Ah, memories.]
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In Vincent's space, the only door that really remains closed is the one to his 'study' which is also the armory. Closed and locked for practical reasons when he's not making use of it. So the doors to the 'bedrooms' are open, one with a coffin the other with a normal bed.
The main area is full of furniture with a slightly faded antique feel. Not worn or broken or rotted, mind you. Just well aged but still fantastically serviceable, from an age where they 'still did things right'. A couch, a couple of chairs, some nice tables and lamps. Decor is sparse but there are some pieces.
It makes a particular one more noticeable for its ostentatious nature amidst small landscape paintings and the single black succulent that someone gifted him recently. A small statue of semi-transparent crystal which seems to embody a female figure within. The clarity is not so great that any features can be determined.
By one of the chairs is the open bottle of wine and a glass that's got a measure poured into it. There's also a book from the library; bookmarked with, of all things, an origami bat.
Hanna would be pleased to know that it's getting honest use.
There's a clitter-clatter of cabinet doors and the fetch of another wine glass from the shelf. Maybe it's surprising in itself that he actually has something for visitors in the first place. Maybe not. ]
Sangria, huh. Haven't had one of those in a long time.
[ He crosses the room, where he'll take the bottle with the intention of pouring Aerith a glass of the red wine and offering it. ]
no subject
But the decorations were notalgic in a way. It reminded her of the slums, a little of how her own room was, but for the small crystal. Her decor depended on the flowers which she changed every so often. It was still...funny how close their rooms seemed to reflect what was home to them.
Though the bat was clearly a Hanna touch. Which was rather charming, and made her a little sad, thinking of the young man and his current mental state. That was...something to be touched on another time.
Instead of going to the table though, she moved towards the couch, moving to sit there instead. It looked far more comfortable. And besides, she didn't have one in her living space. She took what comfort she could.]
I haven't either. But I was speaking to Hakkai- he works in the kitchens- and we talked about using some of the crab apples for it. Some of the citrus too but...the apples would be the unknown if it'll really work work part.
[She'll take the wine when it's offered. It'll be nice to share a drink with a friend.]
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Hm. Could try soaking them if they end up being too tart. [ He adds clarification. ] Like a sloe gin.
[ Sugar, liquor and apples. What could go wrong? Especially if you need to test different varieties to find the perfect mixer? ]
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There might be some in the Lounge, if we're lucky.
[She leans against the couch cushions closing her eyes.]
I'll have to try them. Maybe bring some over so we can compare notes? See if they need the gin. Because I want to make a huge batch.
Maybe we can stick some in the freezer. Cheer up emergencies.
no subject
Though it is probably meant to be enjoyed by itself without embellishment. ]
Mm.
[ A sound of agreement, a nod. And then... a curious stillness. Almost like Vincent flinches slightly when Aerith proffers the suggestion that she come over and they talk shop on the different solutions.
While he'd not been looking at her directly, Vincent's gaze clearly slides to the side one moment. He almost seems... uncomfortable. It's gone in an instant and he nods. ]
Maybe not gin. The brandy. Or something close.
[ Something that's already meant to be part of the sangria itself, though certainly not the wine part. They'll likely need to be careful on the balance of sugar too.
They, yes. Vincent bites back the urge to suggest that Aerith is welcome to take these ideas and speak to those that she's already talked about this with. Hakkai and whoever else.
For the sake of a good friend he'll take on a little more. ]
no subject
She doesn't take the sip then and instead lowers her glass. Gently so, having the base of the glass rests against her thigh.]
Vincent...
[She starts, and stops. Sighs.]
Forget about the sangria okay? If I make it, or anything else, I'll bring it to you.
And the hair conditioner. You really do need to take the time for your hair. Spilt ends aren't a good look you know.
[And she. Finally takes a sip.]
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...That obvious, huh?
[ At least he isn't denying it. He's clearly not talking about his hair because he will address that in a moment. ]
I don't mind making time for you, Aerith. Just... don't bring anyone else by. Or bring the ingredients and I'll work on my own. I'll send you the results.
[ Compromise. And in his own awkward way, trying to express that it isn't her. The heart is willing but the soul is... weary right now. Another sip of wine is taken. He muses adding a more direct apology, but decides against it for now. Instead it's time to speak about his hair.
This time he does lift his hand, tweaking a lock between his fingers and giving it a puzzled look. ]
...It's not that bad.
[ It's not exactly good, either. ]
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[So not the most obvious unless they were a friend.]
And I wouldn't dream of it. Being in here, with you, is a trust. I might allow people into my room, but you get to keep your space to yourself.
[She glances at him sidelong as she gently swirls her wine.]
You don't see it? I have a lot to teach you then.
After all...proper hair treatment can take hours. Even days, if it's damaged.
Can't go out with a towel on your head and all.
[He offered a compromise. And she's offering a solution to a possible social problem, with her being to blame.]
no subject
[ Related to bringing others over. Regardless he seems to relax a little just on that assurance alone. He's thankful for her understanding, he really is.
Vincent looks up from his hair as he lets his hand drop. The sharp manner of this gesture suggests a denial on his lips. He's not that ignorant. ]
I'm not out to impress anyone you know.
[ Which suggests a few things. One, he might be intentionally lax or not really caring about his hair routine. People care when they want to be presentable and not keep folk at a distance. Two, there was probably a point in his life he did, in fact, take better care of his looks. For one, he was a Turk and there was a certain standard of appearance that goes with wearing the suit... more or less. Two, he did have a woman he fancied.
Aerith will receive a good, hard look when she follows up with her innocent (but not) suggestion of the time and... well, time it will take to correct the tragedy that is Vincent Valentine's hair. And he has to laugh at it. Yes, he understands what she's aiming for. ]
Seems a lot of work. Are you trying to say I'm being too social? Me?
[ Vincent does let his gaze trail to his book and the wine bottle but there's also his old habits of simply splitting off from the party and finding a place to hang out in solitude until he absolutely had to engage in social activities.
Ah but that's the problem isn't it? The normal things Vincent does to keep himself sane in these types of settings, he's either not allowing himself or thinking he can't. And that's saying nothing of whatever traumas the last few days probably dredged up for him which are even more taxing. ]
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[Just so Vincent will know. She does have people come over- Cain came over to check on her during the fog, Zack could consider her place an extention of his place, with or without Zeke.
But Vincent needed to recharge. People could and would be a lot at any time.
Hence the hair. And hence while she waited for the implications and the idea to sink in.]
You don't need to do it to impress anyone.
But we've all been through a lot. You made sure I napped when I was pushing myself.
Has anyone looked out for you?
[Has anyone checked in on Vincent at all? Did anyone think to?]
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But... The gunman doesn't really make it easy for people to check up on him and so when the question about whether people have stopped by or 'looked out for him' is delivered, he answers with a shrug. ]
Yeah, probably. And I do get some sleep on my own.
[ And to be clear the probably means 'yes' but whether or not they're as direct as Aerith is could be in question. Maybe some were even more direct! Maybe she's the first.
It's probably also true that Vincent still is pushing himself in subtle ways. Vincent shifts his regard back to the young woman. ]
...Fine, do what you want. Just don't suggest I cut it.
[ While he makes it sound like it's too much effort or too much of a change to go for a shorter hairstyle (or really any hairstyle at all), there's something in his tone that might infer something deeper.
It really would be too much to go back to having it look like it did when he was still human. ]
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Though the answer of being checked on is vague. And him being able to sleep...well, he may be the Barge's best sleeper.
She waits though to hear the real answer, and gets it. And she nods slowly.]
It'd be kind of silly to suggest you cut it at all. No...I'd just want to make it a little...healthier. Maybe get some tangles.
Where's your hairbrush?
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Bathroom.
[ Because of course everything he needs to make himself look nominally presentable is going to be in there. She'll find one that's a fairly decent type, along with a comb. Hair products? Haha! Surely you jest. Well there is shampoo, maybe a little more fancier than can be expected by his attitude. Old habits maybe? After all, why change a product that works? Either way signs are strong that hair care starts and stops at a few post shower ministrations.
Why, you may wonder, does Vincent not fetch these items for himself. Well after pointing Aerith in the direction- maybe as much to give her time to collect an idea of what she has to work with so as to avoid having to answer the questions that could be answered by seeing for herself- she will return to find his wine glass empty. He's removed the red cloak and it's now draped across the back of the chair that had not been in use and finally unwound the scarf that's usually holding his hair away from his eyes. His hair really is long. The few inches drawn up because of wrap and other elements of his clothes now place the longest parts near the tail bone rather than mid-back as it had always seemed. At the same time it's probably clear that there's plenty of different lengths.
Overall, he needed a bit of time to brace himself. Even if it's Aerith, this is still far outside his comfort zone and it's pretty clear that anyone else would have been shoved out of the room for even suggesting this project if they'd dared. ]
Where do you want me to sit?
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[She drifts to the bathroom and it's all there. The brush, the comb, all of it. The shampoo...she takes a moment to smell it. It's expensive. It reminds her of Midgar in its scent somehow. Not bad, but a sense of home no longer there, for any of them anymore.
What she hadn't expected to see- much like a future where their rooms were connected- was the state of...well, undress. Wrap gone, cloak draped. This Vincent is so..vulnerable in a way he wasn't. Not usually.
She nearly turned around from the shock of seeing his hair so long and uneven.
Instead, Aerith strode forward, brush in hand.]
Wherever you want to sit Vincent. And you can out the cloak back on, if you'd like.
It won't get in the way.
[Maybe she should suggest more wine but thay felt insulting.]
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Some of it is falling forward to cover his features but that's probably to be expected without the wrap to hold it back. ...Right?
Still it's strange indeed how different it seems right now, compared to when he offered his cloak as a blanket. He didn't seem as stripped bare then. And that's likely because the place was public and he wasn't about to let someone further into his personal space than he generally ever allowed. ]
Hmph. It's already off.
[ He does appreciate it but even in his discomfort or maybe because of some stubborn pride, he isn't going to reach for it. Vincent instead strides to the kitchen table, where a simple backed chair is grabbed and dragged over to an open space. It will be low enough to let Aerith comfortably work. The former Turk sits. ]
My looks can't be that bad, can they?
[ Dry in tone, almost amused. Well... one might suspect he knows his appearance is not bad. The uncanny pallor and his eyes aside, there's nothing at all to suggest that he's less than human nor what he suffered in becoming what he is now. ]
Besides, there's always the wine.
[ Which he isn't going for, but at least now Aerith won't need to be wondering if it would be bad form to suggest it. ]
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It was different though. In his space, with his headwrap off, the cloak off...Vincent seemed smaller somehow. Not diminished, but less mysterious, closer to the human he was once. But she waits for him to make his choice, both with whether the cloak would come back on, and where he would sit.]
Vincent? Maybe it's the mysterious aura that you have at all times but?
You're very pretty.
[And she gently pats Vincent on the shoulder as she carefully moves behind him. Sure he's got the whole vampire chic going for him, but no doubt he's gotten his share of looks since his arrival. People here are, Aerith noticed, very hungry for very physical things on the ship.
That all said, she starts to move the comb vertically through his hair. Gentle, careful, as she looks for possible tangles that could be in his locks.]
Since I'm up...want me to refill your glass? It might give you some fortitude in case I find a snarl or something.
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[ He isn't exactly flustered and the complaint is probably offered more as an outlet for his general anxiety over being exposed. But yeah, he's going to be the type to complain about being called 'pretty'. The way the indifference settles quickly again suggests that thoughts of his personal appearance in the eyes of others simply do not linger if they'd crossed his mind at all.
The heat of attraction to another has not warmed his body for a very long time.
As was mentioned before, his hair is still lightly damp and cool. And just as you would expect from towel-dried hair that was wrapped back up, there's going to be a few snags and wavy bits to smooth out. Though for what it's worth, there's nothing egregious; he'd done some due diligence with comb and brush. ]
I won't say no.
[ To the wine. Even if he's fully aware that he won't need it to fight against the pain of some persnickety knot. ]
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[She chuckles under her breath. She might tell him one day of how Cloud had been pretty when he was dressed up after the Honey Bee Inn. But it really wasn't about finding him a romance. She never even thought. This was more...to bring him all centered. Relax him even, if that was possible with someone being around.
Even if that someone was her.
Though his hair was still mildly damp, it does seem to be easy to brush. But she pauses in her detangling in order to come around and refill his glass of wine. ]
Here you go.
[She offers it to him. Once it's taken, she'll go back to the snags and waves.]
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So is that wine, which he takes when she brings it over and has a sip before she's settled in to begin again. Never fear, the process will not interfere with his ability to take the occasional drink and he has quite the high pain tolerance besides. There's still tension in his shoulders; something far more easily read without the added layer of red over his clothes.
There is always the common risk that time with Vincent Valentine would be subject to long moments of absolute silence. Where people can tell him stories he can react to works out just fine. If it's business, he can talk quite a bit. But times like this are when he's out of his element. For a few long moments he struggles to find something to say just for the sake of saying something. ]
...Did you manage to get some sleep?
[ It's... not really small talk. There he goes, caring again. ]
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Aerith's hands are gentle, and gentler still around the few snags he has. The waves of his hair she thinks might be due to the headband.
But the tension in hid shoulders...maybe this was too much? She wasn't sure.
The topic choice does make her huff though and she offers his shoulder the gentlest of pushes.]
Yes, I did. It's getting easier. Hakkai and Ulla were very helpful.
I was wondering how you've been sleeping. I doubt you stayed here the whole time.
[Meaning he also saw thinks that hid in the dark.]
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The waves are almost certainly because of the wrap as the comb does bring back a natural tendency to straight locks as the work progresses. Whatever else can be said about the man's grooming habits, they have not done any real harm to the thick mane.
Aerith might even note how he occasionally lifts a hand, intending to comb the long bangs back out of his face before remembering someone's actually working on it. ]
Good.
[ He's going to absolutely ignore the slight shove to his shoulder but stills, this time arresting the motion of bringing the glass of wine to his lips again. Silence. ]
No, I didn't.
[ In fact the times he found his room, particularly after the Otherworld fully descended on the Barge, were only very short visits to wash off the worst of the grime, restock on bullets and get back out to work. But it's not really about how much work he put in. It's what he had to confront.
She's behind him. But still without the cloak's high collar there's more of his face to see or glimpse if she's a mind to. The way his jaw might clench as he thinks of how to answer; there's no real good one here if he wants to be honest. And it's probably not worth it to lie. ]
Same as ever. [ Quietly spoken. A forced dry tone. ] Hmph. It's been a long time since I slept without nightmares to haunt me. Nothing that place could do about that.
[ And it's true in its horrible way. The Otherworld had created elements of his trauma, sure. But what nightmares could it have created that would have matched ones he'd endured for three decades? Well, that's certainly terrible enough to think about.
He finishes the glass of wine and absently twists it in his fingers, looking thoughtful. ]
The worst it could do is expose what I am to others.
[ He almost sounds amused. After all, how out of place was he on the Barge, really? ]
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