"So, I heard that it seems Sherry is not quite dead. Ne, Gin?" The silver haired man glared at the woman who had come up behind him soundlessly.
"Fuck off, Vermouth," he snarled in reply.
"Now, now, is that any way to talk to a lady?" Vermouth tutted amusedly. "Especially me."
Gin glared at the woman, whose eyes were so like his own, though his lacked the blue that hers had. He had lost his last shred of humanity long ago. "Frankly, Mother," he spat, "I don't give a damn. And as for Sherry, as soon as I find her again, I will kill her."
"Whatever you say, Gin-chan," the actress cooed over her shoulder as she left the room. She smirked as she saw Gin's grip on the rifle he was cleaning tighten.
That little scientist bitch, Vermouth thought vehemently, her expression hardening. Her parents never really sat well with me, and her sister was a pain, too. And then she sank her claws in my little Gin-chan…
At least he had had the sense to forget about her, something which she'd never quite been able to do. But there was one thing Gin was wrong about. She was going to kill Sherry, not him. After all, Vermouth thought, a cruel smirk spreading across her face, Mother knows best.
A/N: Just something a little disturbing I thought up after noticing that Vermouth and Gin kinda look alike. For some reason, I likeportraying/watching Vermouth portrayed as a mom. O_o;;