~Player Information~
Name: Heather
Personal Journal:
agentgrrlTime zone: Central Standard Time
Contact: theagentgirl@AIM
~Character Information~
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Name: Vincent Valentine
Age: Looks mid 20s (he's like 60 lol)
Canon Point: Just before the attack on WRO Headquarters (Dirge of Cerberus)
History: [
RIGHT HERE]
Personality: Vincent is and has always been shy and quiet, but where his timidity once stemmed from a lack of self-assurance and uncertainty, it can now be attributed to introspection. He is often lost in his own thoughts of what was and could have been. To Vincent, all events occurring in the present have roots in the past. A past he’d rather not have transpired.
Another thing that keeps him quiet is a lack of understanding of the modern world. He slept for roughly thirty years before walking the avenues of the world, and it moved ahead, leaving him behind. Often, his silence during conversations stems from a misunderstanding of motive or meaning. Quite often, jokes and pratfalls are lost on him, though he tries his hardest to understand.
His love for Lucrecia drives many of his actions. Being perceived as a good person or a bad person has little bearing on his motives. He is far more focused on righting past wrongs, though some part of him feels that all his efforts are in vain. There is no retribution for a sin as great as letting the woman you love use her own child in such a heinous experiment, even if it was for science. Once, Cloud asked him if he thought sins could ever be forgiven, to which he responded with, “I’ve never tried.”
He feels that the proof is in the pudding, so to speak, Sephiroth being a prime example of the consequences of asking “can we” instead of “Should we.”
A recent development is the dedication to his friends. At first, he was very distant to them, focusing on stopping Sephiroth, and finally putting to rest something he should never have let exist. He found himself liking the people he fought beside, though, and helps them whenever he’s available. They’d even recently convinced him to buy a cell phone so they could contact him. He agreed, though grudgingly. If you have a cell phone, people have a way of finding you, even if you’d rather not be found at the moment.
People have attributed his quiet nature to being cold in the past, but in reality, Vincent has trouble understanding how to speak with people, both because he increasingly feels less and less a part of humanity, and because he's a terrible introvert.
Skills/Abilities: As a project of Hojo's, Vincent is capable of transforming into one of four different forms, each with it's own abilities, though most commonly, when stressed, he transforms into the form of the
Galian Beast, a rampaging monster of rage capable of considerable physical damage and Beastial Flare (A fire-elemented attack a lot like a supernova). His greatest burden, and his deepest hatred, is Chaos, the entity contained within him that both keeps him alive and rules the shattered remains of his life. Chaos, the Destroyer, ender of of the Planet, flows through Vincent's veins. When Vincent transforms into
Chaos, he is completely unaware of the situation save for the vaguest of senses. Chaos craves the corrupted souls of the living, is capable of god-like feats of strength, flight, gravity attacks, etc. The Gun Vincent carries, the Cerberus, is a literal extention of Chaos, and transforms into the Death Penalty when he transforms into Chaos.
Aside from his transformations, he is fast enough to be missed by the human eye, can discern heartbeats, doesn't require food, drink, or sleep (though he can do all those things), heals very quickly, and is almost incapable of dying. He would need to be literally destroyed.
He's a gifted marksman and excels at long-range combat.
His two greatest weaknesses are his own mind and Chaos. Due to the trauma acrewed at the hands of Hojo, Vincent suffers from PTSD that makes him lapse into a state of near catetonia in which he relives the nightmares of his experimentation and his failure to stop the Jenova Project from proceeding.
Also, he has to constantly keep his emotions under control, because it's adrenaline that sparks the transformations and the last thing he wants to do is kill someone he cares about.
First Person Sample:
[Voice Only]
Trapped. The wall is too high to scale. The tracks that brought us here take you to the park. And I can't shake the feeling someone's always watching over my shoulder.
But why are we here? Experimentation? I know the feeling. Or maybe it's punishment.
[This last is very quiet, as though to himself, though he does include the we...]
Surely we've all done things we regret.
Third Person Sample:
“I’m sorry,” Vincent said, as he sat, facing the enormous crystal encasing the body of one Lucrecia Crescent. He came here often these days. After the fall of Sephiroth and Cloud’s defeat of his reincarnation, Vincent felt lost and alone, but surrounded by friends, no matter the distance. Kadaj’s ability to take the head of Jenova into himself and become Sephiroth had proven to him that his past could not be defeated, and it could only be outrun for so long.
After the defeat of Sephiroth at the crator, he’d thought his work had been done. His friends had scattered to the four winds, but time had revealed there had still been work to do to rid the world of the calamity of Jenova. Perhaps that was it. He’d slept for thirty years beneath Shinra Manor, but his body showed no evidence of time’s passage. Perhaps he would not age so that they might not rejoin the life stream, but continue to fight that which he allowed to exist for all eternity.
He shivered slightly at that sobering thought. It was the destiny of all mortals to rejoin their ancestors and the planet, but could he still count himself among their number? The beast within him, the entity of Chaos, colored many of his thoughts and influenced many of his actions. He knew his demeanor to be, at times, cold and somewhat aloof, but often his friends’ good humor was lost on him. Perhaps, he thought, his soul was lost when Hojo took his life. Perhaps all he had left was the memory of one Vincent Valentine, and his hopes and fears; his attention to detail; his loyalty. Was he truly a shell, a memory? He wasn’t sure. When he was around his friends, something warm filled his chest, something…whole.
He turned his face towards his lost love, the gentle light of its glow accenting her delicate features as it bathed his stark countenance in its soft blue light. No, he thought, I still love her, and that is not a lie of memory. But then, what am I?