dagronrat | Vermouth ficlet

Ficlet post because I feel like it.

Isn't really a proper fic, so unless it sprouts two heads and turns into a fully-fledged side fic in it's own right, will probably not post it on ff-net.

Is part of my "Like a Gun" fic-verse. Is in fact me trying to get my head around Vermouth's character so as to get her "confession" details right.

Shouldn't be too spoilerish for the upcoming chappies of Like A Gun. I guess it could be referred to as a "special."
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Morning pains.

I'd felt it coming. I'd felt it in my bones that morning.
Today I'm going to die. That was what the feeling said.
I dismissed the thought first thing, as I got up and dressed.
Me? Die? As if I'd let that happen!
God, if, that is, there was a god to collect the many lost souls on earth; that god did not want me just yet.
He had not wanted me then, so why would he want me now?
I, Vermouth; I, the boss's favourite, the product of his dreams come true;
I was proof that death can be fooled, that eternal life was at hand's grasp.
I laughed, thrilled by the sound of my voice as I did so.
I was alive! A zombie filled with life, and with youth as well!
I had drunk from the devil's cup, and it had been filled by the fountains of eternity.

"We can be both of God and the Devil..." I whispered, as my now long gone foe's words came to mind.
"Since we are trying to raise the dead
Against the stream of time."

But there was no god, and the devil is dead.
All that was left were demons, angels with broken wings, and a poisoned blessing.

I smiled, a sad, bitter smile.
I could scoff at the idea all I wanted, the feeling was still there.
I tried to remember, as I forced myself to eat my breakfast, whether I'd felt such a feeling on that ill-fated day.
Try as I might, I couldn't recall any such thing.
I might not have been all that young or foolish back then, but I hadn't been wise either.
In fact, I'd been deluded and reckless throughout all my prior life.
It had taken death to teach me the hidden values of secrecy, the true face of evil... And not just any death. My own.
Perhaps after cheating on him for so long, it might be nice to let Thanatos take me in his arms.
Hadn't he promised me marvels back then?

But no, death had made no promises this time round.
He knew he couldn't fool me.
Death gave nothing. No closure, no happily ever after, not even any assurance that it was death indeed.
Death took away everything, leaving only the void, the empty space that was once "me."

Enough of these thoughts!
I had ruminated over them time and time again, they could be left alone for now.
Lighting up a cigarette to calm my frayed nerves, I focused on the day's mission.

I had come to think of every day in terms of a mission.
- Today? Act normally. Be Chris Vinyard, the famous actress, who played with her sex appeal and cunning as with toys.
- And Today? Turn into a secret agent. Your goal is to eliminate that FBI agent, his family, and destroy his files on you. Might as well wave a hand at death while passing.
- Today is another day. My mission is to continue playing the charade of sweet kind and considerate doctor Araide. It wouldn't be the first time I stood in a dead man's shoes.
...Only he hadn't been dead, had he? Now that I come to think of it that Starling brat did say they'd staged his death to save his life.

I exhaled softly remembering that tricky evening on the docks. I'd failed on many aspects that day, but I had survived without having to sacrifice my hope.
My hope.
Funny name to call the man who'd probably bring on my downfall, with that of our 'precious' organisation.

Cool Guy.

I'd felt death coming in my bones that morning.
But somehow I had also known it deep down then... My death was coming, but so was the old crow's, the black bird who's shadow had ruled my life.

-cuts off-
And this is where I started to wonder things like "How old was Vermouth when this and that happened?" The rest another day, perhaps?

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On another note, am investigating whether with 1 wash blue hair dye I can make my hair turn green, any suggestions? :c3