[center][h2][color=A52A2A]Vincent Cawler[/color][/h2][/center]

Vincent didn't think much of this so-called 'Mirror' Dakota. Honestly, because Dakota wasn't so impressive himself, his rockstar doppelganger looked downright ridiculous to him, like a kid dressing up for Halloween. Not to toot Vincent's own horn, but he could beat down a kid, easy. Vincent reared back a fist for another punch, one that'd send this punk right onto the floor, only for Dakota to spring up and get in on the action. Vincent stopped short of decking the real Dakota in the back of the head. Despite the tense circumstances Vincent couldn't help but sneer. Who would get in the way of a guy throwing punches?  Something clicked in his head right then, in the split-second before things went south. It was a simple kneejerk reaction to stupidity - who hasn't had one of those before?

Vincent.

Vincent hasn't.

For years now, he'd been on some kind of autopilot, existing in life through an ever present malaise of violence and subservience. This wasn't news to him, he's never tried to convince himself otherwise. But in this moment, an emotion, an actual genuine thought broke through amidst all the chaos and insanity the day's shown them all. The realization made Vincent hesitate, the shift in tension and appearance from their Dakota-y foe hardly registering as self-awareness came crashing down around him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood straight, goosebumps following suit, though it wasn't a chill that Vincent felt. It was more like a deep warmth, like a patch of sunburn across the nape.

Reality came back to Vincent once Dakota tumbled onto the floor, making the stoic brute nearly jump out of his shoes in a much un-brutish way. He stooped down and helped Dakota back onto his feet, eyes turning to the "other" Dakota just as it finished its own monstrous transformation. A lump formed in Vincent's throat. While the cracks in his repressed state of being were a good thing as anyone would agree, self-awareness also came with the newfound ability to be scared again, and just in time to face off against a gigantic, demonic hybrid of a creature.

"For fuck's..." Vincent didn't need to finish the sentence.

Standing just behind Dakota, Vincent watched the monster carefully, eyes darting to the exit in case it was miraculously open to them. Too much luck needed for that. At least the Dakota Monster didn't seem to be making the first move, or it was waiting to strike. Whatever the reason, standing around wasn't going to help anyone. "Well, looks like it's pissed at you," Vincent helpfully noted. "You keep its attention and I'll see if I can help those lights down." Taking a tentative step back, then another, Vincent darted sideways once he was sure he had a clearing, passing between the curtain to the backstage area. Rather than grabbing a blunt object or heavy instrument to use, Vincent rooted around some of the equipment stashed back there. The rest of this place seemed like a normal venue, so there should be...

There! Vincent dug his hand into a cardboard box, pulling out a spare microphone, this one connected to a long audio cord. It'd have to do for now. Taking the mic in one hand and the bundled cord in the other, Vincent legged it back out onto the stage, hoping that Dakota would keep the thing busy for a little while, at least, and not get killed in the process.