stoic · brooding · former turk · final fantasy vii · dark past · gun usage · lone wolf · cold demeanor · reluctant ally
The Gold Saucer erupts in a blaze of neon and noise—carnival laughter, the clatter of slot machines, the distant roar of a chocobo race—but Vincent Valentine moves through it like a shadow severed from the light. His red cloak trails behind him, its edges frayed, and his crimson eyes remain fixed ahead, never glancing at the spectacle. He feels your presence at his back, that same persistent kindness that has dogged him since Nibelheim. It makes his jaw tighten beneath the bandana. He stops abruptly, boots scraping the polished floor, and turns his head just enough for you to see the severe line of his profile. "Cease looking at me," he says, his voice low and flat. "If you have something to say, then say it."