Remnant of Dreams
©®™ Lt. Commander Richie
Disclaimer:I'm getting onto a bit of a Bleach kick... BLAME KENPACHI AND YACHIRU! ... And Hitsugaya, and Karin...
Chapter 10
He hated sewers, he decided. In fact, he hated them even more with every little bit of unidentifiable material that soaked through his boots. He hated the stench, he hated the water, and he really hated the terrible lighting that would occasionally make him fall into a random deep area up to his neck. Mostly, though... Vincent just hated the monsters. He fired another round into the mutant turtle that had been threatening him with a trident, grabbing the Phoenix Down he had left down here for this reason exactly.
"Two more tunnels." He reminded himself quietly, jumping back down into the rank water so as to get out of the disgusting situation. Dispatching one of the turtle-men with a swipe to the head by his clawed hand and another with a splattering of brains across the walls and a gunshot that rang through his ears a dozen times over, the ex-Turk made his way to the access ladder that led to the manor's basement. He double-tapped an extremely persistent turtle-man from about halfway up the ladder, blackish-red blood spattering all over his cape and making small dark spots appear. With a grunt the gunman used his clawed hand to push the sewer hatch out of the way, the heavy lid falling back with a clatter as he climbed out into the passages under the manor. Suddenly blue lines flared into existence all around him, guns trained on his every move by Deepground soldiers. In a flash the Cerberus was out and firing, blood and electric blue material flying every which way as Vincent spun and slashed several more with the sharp edge of one of his shoes.
"I wanna wear Kenseikan!" Yuffie looked up from the pot of curry she was stirring, turning to catch a glimpse of the TV several feet away and angled slightly away. Mira sat on the dinner table, squirming in excitement as she watched her daily dose of mind-numbing cartoons. She was watching some show about a kid with a large sword, and the Ninja shook her head and rolled her eyes at the eight-year-old on the table.
"Your hair is too untameable. I'd never be able to get the Kenseikan to lay flat." Stirring a few times and then turning the heat off, the Kunoichi moved the pot of curry to the sink to cool.
"So? They're pretty!" Mira protested, pulling at the unruly spikes that made up her bushy mane. Yuffie smiled at her and crossed the kitchen to sit behind her, pulling at a few of her larger spikes along the way.
"Yeah, yeah, and if I'd stayed in Wutai my husband would be wearing them." She smiled, and then perched herself up on the table next to the small girl. "Now... Explain this cartoon to me. I've never seen it, so it must be new." The eight-year-old smiled up at her, before turning back to the fuzzy TV.
"It's about this kid named- hey, what's wrong with the cable?" The picture had gone completely out, replaced by snow and an incessant buzz. Mira jumped to the floor, crossing the small space between the table and the old set in a heartbeat and tapping it a few times on its outdated side.
"Funny name." Yuffie goaded, receiving a glowing blue glare full of frustration. Smiling widely, she hopped from the table and over to the broken TV. It continued to buzz incessantly as the two examined it, finally stopping as Mira pulled the plug.
"Maybe Mrs. Renson figger'd out that you're stealing her cable." The eight-year-old said, and the Kunoichi fiddling with the cables on the back of the TV shrugged noncommittally.
"Naaaaah," she began, pulling the cable jack out and then putting it back in. "I used a special-communications WRO wiretap. She'll never figure it out." The two laughed, and Mira pushed her ribbon back onto the top of her head. Suddenly, the lights went out. Lightning snapped down outside, accompanied immediately by a crash of thunder so loud that the windows rattled. Mira held her ears tightly to protect her hearing, crouching down low next to the wall under one of the kitchen windows.
"Is it over yet?" The small girl's voice was loud in the silence following, drowning out the sound of one of the gutters cracking open and spilling water onto the ground.
"It should be... C'mon, get away from the window." Yuffie reached forward and pulled Mira away from the window, just in time for it to come bursting inwards in a crash and rain of glass. The butt of a rifle protruded in through the broken window, and its wielder came suddenly into view as the blue lines all over his uniform fired into life. Mira screamed in shock, running towards the kitchen door. Yuffie pushed her to help her along, her hands flicking through hand seals at a rapid pace as she whirled back around to the rapidly-multiplying amounts of soldiers in and around the window.
"Suiton, suishoha!" She cried out, all the water in the room swirling around her in a raging whirlpool before crashing out the window and taking out much of the wall in the process. The curry that had been in the sink splattered across many of the soldiers, burning a few in the process. Foregoing her victory dance, the Kunoichi ran out the kitchen door after Mira. In the foyer she grabbed her poncho, tucking it under one arm and slamming her hat on her head before grabbing her Conformer and running up the stairs. She could see blurry glowing blue figures outside the stained glass windows, but continued to run.
"Yuffie!" Mira stood at the end of the hall, holding open the door to the greenhouse. "C'mon!" The Ninja dove inside and rolled to a stop, the little eight-year-old slamming the door behind her and using one hand to drag one of the heavy planters in front of it.
"C'mon, kiddo, get under here." Yuffie said, wedging herself under one of the tables on the far wall. Rain leaked through cracks in a few of the greenhouse windows, dripping loudly in the silence that accompanied them. Mira dove under the table, huddling up next to the Kunoichi.
"We're safe in here, right?" She asked, and the Kunoichi nodded with a smile.
"Don't worry, we'll be fine!" She said, looking up at the wooden underside of the table and the sky that lay beyond it.
"You're letting me on that transport." Several of the guards in the hangar had seen her coming. Of course, they were bored nearly to tears what with the sudden emptying of the main Deepground base, so they had refrained from telling the pilot of the last transport out and the guys onboard just who was coming their way.
"I'm sorry ma'am," one of the soldiers began, standing at attention. "But the transport's about to take off. There's no room left." Milorr raised an eyebrow at the soldier, crossing her menacing-looking arms and sneering.
"Funny. I was under the impression that I had seniority." She snapped, her cat-like green eyes narrowing in anger. "Now move, or I'll move you." The silver-haired woman went to walk around the soldier, but he moved into her way. She stopped, both eyebrows raising.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but only authorized personnel are allowed onto the transports out of the base." The soldier never really knew what hit him as a silver gauntlet closed around his throat and he was lifted from the ground.
"AndWha t ISMydA ugh ter,CHOcobo liVer?" Milorr snapped, her voice taking on a malicious tone as her head snapped to one side. She threw the frightened soldier to the ground, glaring down at him with her glowing eyes that nearly made the unfortunate man piss himself. "I am Milorr the Crystalline, you ungrateful little maggot. If you knew just who your commanding officers were, you wouldn't be in this kind of mess."
The soldier scrambled away, fumbling his gun and nearly firing a few rounds in the process. The silver-haired woman's mouth twisted upwards in a cruel grin as she watched him run, breaking into a laugh that grated like nails on a chalkboard. Several of the soldiers stationed around the hangar shivered in fear at the obviously insane woman, a few even taking a step back. The laughter stopped abruptly, however, and Milorr scraped one of her long claws against the hull of the transport as she boarded it. The soldiers inside all sat stock-still as they waited for her to take a seat, but she did no such thing. Instead, she slammed one of her gauntleted hands into the ceiling and held on to the buckled metal like a handle.
"What're you waiting for, pilot?" She yelled, slamming down the button to close the back hatch of the transport with her free hand. "Get this bird in the air!"
Fourteen days until Sakuracon. FOURTEEN DAYS. I'm going totally nuts.