X-MAS SPECIAL
Part two
Vincent sat at the table he shared with his comrades, and sighed heavily, the soft sound somehow managing to drown out the excited banter bouncing through the rest of AVALANCHE. The laughter and talking ceased suddenly, as several heads turned to look at him.
"Ooh, Vince, what's wrong?" Tifa cooed, batting her big eyes sadly. Vincent simply sighed again, shoulders sagging.
"So beautiful…"
"Who?" Tifa asked, blinking. Barret snorted.
"That fucking gun." He said.
"What?" Tifa blinked.
"He saw a pretty gun today he wants but can't afford." Yuffie explained, smirking. Vincent sighed forlornly as Cid refilled his glass to the brim with whiskey without asking.
"I could have if someone would have spot me just a /little/." Vincent complained sourly.
"Oh, gee. I would have given you a loan, Vince." Tifa said. "Where is it?" Vincent sank in his seat. All the banter and excitement in the Costa Del Sol bar was only making him /more/ depressed.
"Kalm." He answered softly.
"Ka--- But Vincent, we haven't been in Kalm for two weeks!" Cloud cried suddenly, having been listening. Vincent lifted hollow eyes to the blond.
"Yeah, he's been bellyaching' ever since!" Cid snorted.
Cid leaned heavily on the table, chugging booze, and trying to stick a cigarette in Vincent's nose… He was very drunk. And loud. Vincent winced.
"It was /really/ nice…" Vincent argued.
Cloud frowned.
"You'd just shoot your eye out, Vince." He said flatly.
Vincent dropped his head to the table in exasperation.
"That's what Cid said…" He muttered. Cid, who'd been leaning back in his chair, lost his balance and hit the floor with a crash at the mention of his name.
"Huwa?"
oo
Vincent was desperate. He couldn't take his mind off of the Death Penalty. It was just everything he'd ever dreamed of in a gun… absolute perfection. He dreamt of it at night, wished upon stars for it…Even his demons, Chaos especially, liked it, and therefore craved it as well.
Cid had refused to give him a ride back to Kalm, so Vincent, sneaking out of his hotel room in the dead of night, went out to pay Lucrecia a visit…
"Vincent…you've returned…" Came a heavenly voice. Vincent smiled dreamily, eyes misting up.
"Yes…"
"What is it you need, dear Vincent?" Lucrecia went on gently, appearing in her ghostly form before him, the specter of an angel.
Vincent shuffled his feet.
"Well…umm…there's this really nice… um… gun." He began. Lucrecia quirked an ethereal eyebrow. "And…um…I can't afford it." Vincent went on, "…Can you front me two hundred gil?" He said awkwardly, toeing the cavern floor where he stood.
"…A /gun/?" Lucrecia asked critically.
"Yes…but its special… its gorgeous…like nothing I've ever seen before… it's a rifle…only…better…double barrels, bras and hardwood so /dark/ its almost black…ebony…and its /huge/…" Vincent spun off on his own description of the Death Penalty, eyes going distant and misty, full of love and longing. He held his hands apart to approximate the length of the enormous rifle, and Lucrecia frowned, floating back a few paces from the Ex-Turk.
"Vincent…" She began. "…you'll just shoot your eye out with that thing."
Vincent went pale, jaw slack.
Silence resounded heavily across Lucrecia's Cave…Finally, Vincent managed to stammer a response.
"O-okay then…" With that, and one more heartbroken glance towards his old love, Vincent turned and left with a gentle sweep of his cape.
Walking out into the moonlight, a trail of glistening tears of hopelessness trickled down Vincent's pale cheek.
OH, SUCK IT UP, YOU BIG BABY! Vincent's most prominent demon, Chaos complained. You'll find a way to get that gun! Steal it if you have to!
Vincent frowned.
"I will not steal anything, Chaos." Vincent grunted, climbing back through the window to his hotel room.
Well… your friends won't help you…there's got to be /somebody/ that can help you get that gun…
Vincent settled into his bed, staring back out the window. There was a great lit up figure of Santa and his sled, presents, eight tiny reindeer and all, shining brightly like some sort of subliminal message on the next rooftop over.
Slowly, the gunslingers' eyes light up, reflecting the red, white, green and blue lights from next door, a smile creeping across his lips.
Its never too old to believe, is it?
Scrambling out of his bed, Vincent dug out a pen and stationary from the lone bedside table in his room, and began to scribble a carefully thought-out letter, or essay rather, requesting the Death Penalty, and justifying to Santa Clause why he should receive it…
Well, you /have/ missed three decades of Christmases… Chaos reasoned in bewilderment, I suppose this could make up for it…
Vincent smiled in agreement, nodding to himself. He signed the letter carefully, folded and sealed it carefully, addressing it on the outside to "Santa Claus, The North Pole." Dashing back out the window (Because doors are overrated) Vincent quickly found the nearest drop-in public mailbox, and let the letter fly.
OoOoO
AN:
Oh yes. More. . Not much, I'll admit, but I wanted to break it into smaller segments rather than one bigger chunk. There isn't much plot to this, just a few key points, perhaps, and a whole lot of fun.
It was mentioned whether or not this was AU? …Pft! I dunno! Lol. I somehow decided to have Vincent conscious of Chaos, which would technically mean he /should/ have received the Death Penalty, from Lucrecia no less (laughs) but …eh. Like I said before, this is all fun.
