Vincent rarely knew how to react to the things his father did and forced him to do. If it was up to him he would be writing songs and playing his piano and guitar. Unfortunately it was not up to him anymore. Mother had passed away and father came into a seat of power. Now his entire life was dictated to him. What he could do and when he could do it. Nothing was a choice anymore. He walked towards the garden and sighs. Part of him was crazy...perhaps. Part of him was sane...perhaps. All of him shifted around and mood swinged like hell. He was forced to pretend to need protection. If he did it was from his own damn father but that was a whole nother story. He was currently in the side that was most convincing at needing protection. The side of him that had no powers or abilities of use. The gentle side of him. He had many sides. There was no truly good or truly evil to him. He was not easily described in black or white. He was shifting from foot to foot as he watched for the woman who was to "protect" him. Perhaps in the long run it would actually be needed. For now it was nothing more than a cherade.