Warnings: Rebellious demons, a bit of language, and story time with Yuffie.
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy 7 or any of these characters. I did make up the White Tiger and no, you will never find out what exactly happens in that story! It's better that you don't.
A/N: I wanted to play around with the demons and what I think their personalities would be like, because I don't think they'd be just blobs of evil that Vince randomly lets take over to fight. I also believe that Yuffie is one of the world's greatest evils.
Who would have guessed that demons had personalities? That they had likes, dislikes, and opinions on even the smallest of matters like that of taking a bath versus taking a shower. A thick snarl, accented by a sharp snort at the end, reverberated through Vincent's skull. Let it be known that though the Galian Beast was decidedly canine, he did not like large bodies of water. Oddly, that included bathtubs.
The fine hairs on the back of the gunman's neck lifted of their own accord as the demon vehemently "threw" himself at the back of Vincent's skull. It was an odd feeling, a slight pressure at the base of his skull as if the demon was trying to push him away from it. Chaos was silent, save for the occasional aggravated sigh, and Hellmasker was picking various facts and examples out of Vincent's own mind to form a sort of mental argument against the irate Galian Beast. Vincent narrowed his eyes slightly at the headache-inducing struggle over which way he'd clean the blood off. Chaos, the only one capable of actually speaking to him, offered up an alternative at that thought. "Just leave it on. Smells like day-old slaughter." A dark chuckle, followed by a huff of disgust from Galian Beast, accompanied the throbbing headache. Vincent had long since given up on popping pills, though some brands did help put the Galian Beast to "sleep" for a while.
Vincent sighed softly, unbuckling the mantel with precise movements before folding the red cloak gently. Soon the buckles and buttons of his black leather shirt followed, the growing pile set neatly on a smooth, marble counter top. He glanced at the mirror, eyes glowing softly back at him as he took in the scars that littered his pale frame. The crimson orbs traced the powerful, but faint muscles of his lean frame. His right pectoral was covered in scars from "necessary" open-heart surgeries, courtesy of Hojo. Occasional lacerations decorated his abs and a single, long gash stretched down from the left of his navel before disappearing parallel to the small trail of black curls. Vincent couldn't help but find his eyes drifting back to the knotted mass of healed flesh over his heart. Sometimes it disgusted him, others he was numb to the testimony to all of the retched things that had been done to him, some by his own hand. Chaos made it a game to drag the memories that accompanied each respective scar as his eyes traced them.
The gunman turned from the mirror, leaning down to unbuckle the sabatons and pull off his boots. Finally he freed the red ribbon that held back his hair, pants following soon after. Of course, he wasn't wearing underwear... you try wearing boxers or briefs under leather pants as tight as his. Ignoring Galian's rather amusing whines, he sunk into the scolding hot water. Chaos simply huffed as the water turned pink from what little blood still remained on the gunman's body. Very little of Vincent's skin was visible due to his depressing attire, so the only blood on him was what had managed to leak beneath the tight leather and a few droplets on his face.
Galian eventually quieted down, the others following, as Vincent let his tightly wound muscles relax. It had been far to long since he'd last had any peace.
"Better than being locked in a coffin for thirty years." Chaos chuckled, his sense of humor as bleak and dark as usual.
"Better than having four smartass demons holding a commentary of your life." Chaos growled, but backed away. If Vincent bothered to challenge him, much less speak to him out-loud, then he was pushing his luck. Though Vincent couldn't hurt them, not even in his wildest dreams, he did have his way of torturing the demons when they grew to bold. One name had never struck so much fear in Chaos as Yuffie Kisaragi.
[Flashback]
"Galian, Death Gigas. Stop." Vincent was about to snap. There was a mental war going on right now, led by the damn dog and Frankenstein's Monster. Chaos simply sat back and laughed at their stupidity while Hellmasker's disturbing, airy giggles filled what little silence there was between the warring sides. Apparently Galian, once again enraged over a simple issue, was tired with Death Gigas' lack of response whenever they were trying to rally against Vincent and break through. It never worked because the words 'demons' and 'teamwork' didn't go together unless there was a 'don't have' between the them.
Vincent groaned softly, placing the cool metal of his gauntlet against his forehead. Highwind arched a blonde eyebrow at him, but shrugged and continued making breakfast. An angsty Vincent, Cid making bacon (the best in the world, according to Yuffie), and a hung-over Cloud and Tifa. Typical morning aboard the Highwind. Yuffie, thank Gaia, was flying through the halls somewhere trying to find all the materia she'd lost after realizing she'd been running around all day yesterday with a hole in the bag she carried the colorful orbs in. Apparently she had employed Red's help in finding them, much to the creature's exasperation. Vincent understood his pain... only fourfold. Occasionally the smell of the cooking bacon would sidetrack the Galian Beast, but not for long because Death Gigas was slowly building into a rage.
"Sucks to be you. Why don't you find a nice, dark corner to angst in?" Chaos chuckled sadistically, but was cut off when Vincent slammed his fists into the table. The wood splintered beneath the gloved hands.
"All four of you will regret it if you don't shut the hell up." The other, human, occupants of the rooms gave him a questioning, and slightly fearful look. Cid turned quickly to hide a smirk, realizing he was losing his patience with the demons. Tifa cast him a worried look, and Cloud would have as well had he not been cradling his head. Despite the impossibly high alcohol tolerance, apparently the mako didn't help with hangovers to much for the blonde hero.
Just to spite him, the two quarreling demons caused even more of an uproar. From the pounding in his temples and the tugging sensation at the base of his skull, they had started one hell of a brawl. Finally Vincent broke. He stood slowly, trying to control his breathing as he lifted his gauntlet-less hand to massage the bridge of his nose. The glowing eyes were focused solely on the small gadget attached to the wall of the kitchen. The small box, with a single button and a speaker-like front, was one of the many means of using the intercom that ran through the ship. Usually it was used to inform Cid's crew of something needing fixing or for telling his passengers that they'd arrived at their destination. A single golden claw clicked the button of the intercom, letting the static clear before he spoke in an impossibly calm tone for all of his current mental turmoil.
"Yuffie. Come to the kitchen… now, please." Vincent wasn't disappointed when it took all of three seconds for the small ninja to kick down the door, her shuriken held above her head as she emitted a rather fearsome war cry of "BACON!" There was an amused chuckle in the depths of his mind as Chaos understood his threat. "You expect to 'punish' us with a hyperactive, teenage female? And to think you were once a Turk."
"Vinnie, that's so thoughtful! Calling me to tell me breakfast's ready!"
"That's not why I called you," he said, face as blank as ever. Slowly, however, an impossibly devious smirk crossed his features, which managed to stun the teen into silence. "Actually Yuffie, I called you because of the White Tiger."
"I told you I'm not to be held accountable for that! YOU CAN'T PROVE ANYTHIN-"
"Yuffie. You're not in trouble. I was just thinking that I have some… acquaintances that would appreciate that story. However, I'm worried I may get something wrong so I was curious if you would retell it for me." White Tiger was a small bar in a village outside of Wutai's capitol that could boast stories that would put any bar or club in Midgar to shame. Yuffie's story was their pride and joy.
Recognition filled her eyes and she returned his wicked smile tenfold. "The one with the moose, five cans- I mean six cans of neon pain, a stick, and a bat named Mika?" At his nod, she continued with mounting excitement. "Well if your friends would like this story, they'd love the one about the time I was spying in Costa del Sol. Hehe, the things you see in alleyways, Vin! …I never did find out if that was a guy or a girl."
Unable to take the wait anymore Yuffie latched onto the gunman's arm and pulled him out of the kitchen after snatching a handful of bacon. His demons would learn what Hell really was soon enough. Five minutes with Yuffie and her tales and they would never be the same.
[End Flashback]
Chaos shuddered at the memory and receded into his mind to let the gunman have some peace before he had to brave the world once more. Even the demon vessel couldn't help but shiver at some of the things she'd told him and the audience in his mind. Vincent sunk a bit farther into the cloudy water with a rare smile, taking full advantage of the even rarer moment of peace and quiet.