A Whisper in the Breeze..
The sky was clear, blue as a robin's egg. The grass that formed his bed was warm, lush.. the breeze was just enough to tousle his hair with gentle fingers, and the sun bathed his body in a comfortable warmth. With the breeze danced a melodic tune.
Vincent.. .... .. Vincent, are you sleeping? Here? .. ....... Your eyes.. open your eyes. That voice.. it was back. The voice of his conscience, of his memories, a sweet, airy breath of wind that rolled through his mind. He would always, always be haunted.
Vincent's eyes slowly opened. The warmth, the sky, the wind and sun, it was all gone. In its stead was an unfamiliar, bland ceiling, a bed lacking in luxury, and the lackluster glare of artificial lighting. Where... His head tilted to the side. He could see the form of something.. something strange. Something blue, something.. was it a horse? A monster? One of Reeve's new toys, perhaps? They were always somewhat peculiar.. the man had interesting taste. He made no sound, save the creak of the bed as he sat up, eyes flicking about the room. He recognized nothing - not the walls, the flooring, the peculiar door or the stranger in the bed opposite of him. He had no recollection as to how he came to be here, either.. Curious, his hand reached for his side -- when it found no purchase, it fell to the bed again. Cerberus was gone. Seems it had been opted out for a bracelet of some kind, a dastardly looking piece of technology. His gaze landed on the stranger. "Reeve?" came the quiet rasp of his voice.
