-----Gossamer Wings and Sweet Tasting Things-----


---A Trigun Fanfiction---

 


-----DISCLAIMER-----


I don't own Trigun.
But I'm afraid I own this plot. Blame me.
It's aaaall myyyyy fault.



 


-----AUTHOR'S NOTES-----

Lynda: Normally these top A/N are short and... Er... Irrelevant. But I have an apology to make, so it ain't.
I'm sorry about the wait. ;_; Several months between updates is not an ok thing to do, but have honestly been struggling with my time. To let people know, I haven't dropped the story and I won't. But due to lack of holidays at Uni and a huge plethora assignments, some things have to be pushed back and chapters of GWSTT is one of them.
Oh, and I got some absolutely BEAUTIFUL art from Tyreal and Dragon Queen... ;_; But no matter what I do, the link keeps getting cut out when I upload... So take my word for it that they're gorgeous, k? ^^;;

 


-----*+*-----

 

The Detainment Camp was quite crowded... To the point of suffocation, in fact. 
Well, in Jonis Marshman's humble opinion. But then, Jonis was a simple man. 

He had been the owner of a small and rather simple little department store in LR before he and his mother had been packed up and brought here by a band of serious looking Angels. And here they had stayed ever since.
It was all very strange, Jonis admitted. Angels and Demons... Something he had imagined when he was a child... But now that he was grown, both seemed rather impossible. They were hard to believe in, unlike a well balanced till tally. There was something very solid about the store's earnings all written up nicely on his little chitty sheet. 
But even when heavily armored Angels strode into the Department Store, ushered them out and in the direction of Augusta, Jonis found it hard to believe. But he wasn't built for thinking, so he didn't.

His mother firmly agreed with this resolution.

The camp itself was filled to the utter brim with people like himself, all confused and rather undecided. They milled about in groups; the occasional stray drifting between the knots of humans like stratum rocks in mingling orbits. A few drums had been filled with coals and set alight to warm the hands of the captives in the cold desert nights.

Sitting on a blanket and glaring at everyone who was fool enough to cast them a glance was Jonis' mother.

'Damn fool idea, this.' she snapped, eyeing a child as if sizing up the distance between them, then applying said length to her walking stick. The child took the hint, as most do, and ran away.

'I wonder why we are here?' Jonis muttered to himself.

'Oi'm not puttin' up with this!' the weathered looking elderly croaked in her vehemence, eyeballing the next hapless individual who strayed too close to their bubble of privacy.
This rather unfriendly and antagonistic approach to "mingling" had scored the pair a prime placement in the Detainment Camp. The whole prison like establishment had unintentionally formed into a giant moat when the numbers of the humans increased. In fact, the more people that came, the further they had to stretch around the main building of Augusta in a bid to be well within the warned authorized area. The few foolish enough to try and be flexible with this rule found out just how strict Angels were when it came to law abiding.

The rest had taken heed of the charred patches of earth that remained of the first idiots and kept well within the allocated areas.

Jonis and his mother had both somewhat gravitated toward the main entrance to the giant and metallic Angel headquarters, sheltering under the shadow of the monolithic building and watching as the crowds came and went. It appeared that the residents of Gunsmoke could not stand being penned. They drifted within the small area they were allowed to dominate like shifting dunes, never in one place long enough to seem settled.
As if forcefully convincing themselves that this place was not, in fact, permanent.
It all seemed very hopeless.

'But what can we do but stay, mother?' the Department store manager implored to his parent, shooting an apologetic look at the man who was being heartily scowled at by a rather miserable looking old lady.
Jonis yelped when something whipped across his shins.

'Oi'm not puttin' up with that kind o' lip, neither!' the old woman snapped, waving about her walking cane threateningly.

'W-W-What was that for?!' he wailed, reaching down and clutching at his pained legs. 'Really, mother! We're in public!' There was another swift swish and crack. 'OW!!'

'Don't make me tan yer hide, young man!' Jonis' mother spat, something horrible like enjoyment twinkling in her sharp, sharp gaze.
In a teary eyed fluster, the middle aged man hurriedly reviewed his last sentence.
Then realized his mistake.

'I'm sorry, mo-THHNNNGGH...' he began, then swallowed his sentence as the cane was raised and waggled warningly. Jonis cleared his throat awkwardly and cast an embarrassed look to the group of people who were now, of course, watching. Gunsmoke liked theatre. Jonis loosed his collar and mopped at his forehead with a handkerchief. 'So-Sorry... M-Mum...' he muttered.

'Whot?!' the old geriatric demanded, glaring intently at her son. Jonis withered.

'Sorry, Mumsie.' he managed, and winced at the sniggers that rose up from the crowd about them.

'That's better, then.' Mumsie retorted, momentarily satisfied. She shifted slightly and scowled again. 'Me hip's givin' me gyp. Oi don't hold with this, it ain't decent. Where's the Prime Minister, then? Oi'm goin' to give 'im a piece o' moi mind!'

'I- I don't think we have a Pri-'

'Get the President-doozitwhatsit, then!'

'We don't have a President either, moth-' Swish, crack. 'OWW!!'

'Oi'll 'ave none o' that then, young whipper snapper!'

'Mumsie...' Jonis moaned, experiencing one of those horrible moments in life when the desire to keep your last days safely in front of you was clashing nastily with the sudden urge to cease to be. This unpleasant little reprieve of activity made the manager a little withdrawn from his current surroundings. And it was only after he had gathered enough courage to face the real world and his Mumsie that Jonis noticed the dead silence that stretched the inhabitants of the Detainment Camp.

'Wha...' he managed, blinking and noticing, surprised, that even the little old woman by his side was staring at something in front of the Angelic headquarters.
The manager swallowed and followed the gazes of thousands of humans.
And blinked.

 


-----*+*-----

 

'They're staring at me!'

'That's the whole point!' Meryl hissed, nudging her Guardian Angel in the ribs.

Vash swallowed and squinted into the crowd that spanned below him like a slightly malevolent and impatient ocean, undulating as more and more heads turned in his direction. The 60 Billion Double Dollar Man had never been shy in front of large audiences... But the fact that this throng of people were, in fact, not totting guns that were pointed at him was mildly disconcerting. They had all turned their eyes upwards from their daily tasks as he had scaled the nearest water tower and had bgun frantically waving a white flag in a bid to gain some attention.
"Flag" was a poor definition, as no stretch of white material could be found. The best had not been without the occasional beer stain or floral pattern marring the required white that meant "peace". Instead, a gun-striped mantle that had been borrowed from an adamant Insurance Girl was now attached to a stick and currently billowing forlornly in the wind, occasionally flashing an empty holster at the throng of watchers below.

And so, suddenly standing in the metaphorical desert of lost inspiration and mind blanks, Vash the Stampede stared at his captive audience. Who stared right back.

'Say something!' Meryl hissed, prodding him urgently in the ribs. She had, evidently, thought it her duty to follow her Guardian Angel up the water tank. But the expression plastered across her normally controlled features was a picture of acute and aggravated embarrassment. She all but huddled behind the tall and red clad frame of her Angel; the demure stance contradicting fiercely with the scowl she had donned for the situation.
Oh, right. Say something...

'Hi.' Vash greeted his audience. It was always nice to fall back on the basics.
There was a slap behind him that suspiciously resembled the sound produced from a palm meeting a forehead in exasperated vehemence.
Crickets chirped below and someone pointedly cleared their throat.

'Um. Well...' Vash continued weakly, fumbling desperately for something to say. 'We've come to you with a proposit-'

'Speak up! We can't hear!!' someone shouted from the crowd. Like watching a limpid pool suddenly ripple, every citizen within the camp bobbed their head in agreement. The Humanoid Typhoon licked his dry, parched lips then loosened the collar of his body suit with a finger. With a deep inhalation, he continued at the top of his lungs, 

'I SAID, "WE HAVE COME TO YOU WI-"'
Vash yelped and ducked as a small alarm clock was hurled at his head.
Somewhere in the crowd, two little voices filtered up to the altitudinous stage the Sixty Billion Double Dollar Man had selected for the occasion.

'Mumsie!!'

'Whot?! That young bugger be makin' fun o' mah hearin', he be!'

'Mother, I don't th- OW!! Bu-But an alarm clock, Mumsie?!'

'I dint 'ave no tomatoes!'

Vash squinted into the audience in a futile attempt to figure out where the ballistic timepiece had come from. Unfortunately, whether he found the offender or not, there was still the mounting issue that the people below were obviously losing patience.

'Insurance Girl! Do something!! They can't hear me!' the outlaw implored urgently to the small woman sheltering behind him.

'Then speak louder!' Meryl retorted instantly. 'I've seen you; you're good at this kind of thing!'

'I can't! T-They throw clocks!'

Meryl winced at this harried response and turned her eyes down to the offending object by her foot. Clearing her throat surreptitiously, Meryl nudged the dented little alarm clock with her toe as if it's disappearance would help Vash forget there may be more flying at his face. It's shattered glass face tinkled as it neared the edge of the giant retainer and the broken timepiece was mercilessly tapped over the side to fall. It missed, oddly enough, the newly arrived face of Milly Thompson.

'Psst! Sempai!' the Big Girl hissed, her face flushed and excited.

'M-Milly! How did you get up he-' Meryl began, then peered over the edge to find out. With an effort shaking hand, the youngest of the Thompson clan managed to get an elbow onto the top of the water-tank and with a happy huff, the other limb was liberated from whatever perch she was clinging to.
A loudspeaker was produced and presented like a scepter.

'Guess what Sempai!' the blue eyed Insurance Worker said happily. 'Mr. Wolfwood and Ange and me were all looking around the detainment camps while you and Mr. Vash were climbing this tower and do you know what? Miss Karin and Sempai Mark are down near the old cobblers! They were moved all the way from LR, isn't that amazing?' she asked in a convivial and sociable manner, acting as if she weren't clinging to the edge of an extremely tall tower with death and splatterment awaiting her below. 'I asked them if they knew where a P.A. speaker was, but they gave this to me instead!'

'Milly, get down! You'll fall and hurt yourself!' Meryl stuttered, taking the arm that hosted the megaphone for support.

'Don't worry about me, Sempai!' was the immediate and jovial response. 'Miss Ange is very strong!'

'Ange is...' Vash repeated weakly, then braved a glance over the edge of the tower.

Milly was, as it turned out, perched quite comfortably on the small shoulders of the first Angelina who seemed to be completely incognizant to the weight atop her and in turn was chatting to her own prop. Standing shakily on a guard landing half way up the tank and doing his best to insult Ange by ignoring her, Wolfwood looked extremely unhappy about being the foundation of this obscure pillar of people. But by the look of the vice like hook Ange had forced her legs into, it didn't seem he had much choice. 
The smoking man just happened to glance up and catch the gaze of his blonde counterpart. A rather tortured "help me" look fluttered across his features.

Vash was pulled back from the edge and Meryl pushed something into his hand.

'Go get 'em, Mr. Vash!' Milly cheered, thrusting an encouraging thumbs up at the outlaw. Then flapped her arms about frantically as her center of balance was thrown off.

'Hurry up and tell them what's happening.' Meryl said simply, pulling her Guardian Angel to the center of the makeshift stage, flicking on the megaphone for him then instantly retreating back to her half hidden position behind the swathes of red long-coat again.
Vash opened his mouth to protest but found himself interrupted.

'Hurry up!' someone shouted from the crowd. A mingling chorus of "yeah" and "Spit it Out"s rippled the crowd immediately after. 

'Can you hear me?' Vash asked weakly into the odd mouthpiece of the loudspeaker he held, then allowed himself to feel a little relieved when his voice was amplified and carried across the area, silencing that tumulus. Reassured, he waved a hand and called, 'Up at the back? Can you hear me?'
The outer rim of Gunsmoke residents endeavored to wave a hand back in acknowledgement.

'I guess I should explain what's going on.' the Sixty Billion Double Dollar Man confessed with a hearty grin. Then opened his mouth to continue. 
Then realized all too late that he didn't know how to.

His mouth abruptly shut.
Behind him, Meryl had straightened and seemed to be waiting for this promised explanation with as much curiosity as everyone else.
The trouble with that was that Vash the Stampede didn't know where to start.

'Well?' someone from the crowd below implored impatiently after the thick and rather uncomfortable pause that had ensued.

'We need your help to stop the war.' Vash blurted awkwardly, then grimaced slightly when a sudden and tumulus murmuring swept the crowd like shifting winds. The hushed whisperings began gently, like the forebodings of a breeze, yet with time they got louder and louder until the nervous and confused banter was nothing less than an almighty din.
Eventually, someone managed to shout over the noise,

'ARE YOU INSANE?!'

'Yeah! Why the hell should we?!'

Because it's your planet and you should protect it?
Because your children deserve a future without hardships?
Because if you can't stand up for your beliefs and rights, why stand at all?

Because it is your life, and you're fighting for the right to keep it.

'Because-' Vash began, then choked on these sentences that were battling to voice themselves.

The tall gunman knew that all of these things might've gotten some attention. They might've hit a note within this motley of oppressed people and stirred them to gather some arms, to help, to fight... But Vash found that it wasn't enough. Because each and everyone one of those reasons weren't explanations at all; only a sad and cowardly prodding at these people's vulnerability... And they deserved more than that.

So the blonde bit his lip and opened his mouth-

-And the Truth came tumbling out.

The first words were faulty and nervous. The second were firmer. The third morphed delicately into sentences then began to take shape, take hold, sliding from an explanation into a story. Soon Vash had verbally backtracked hundreds of years to Earth, telling them of mistakes they'd forgotten and were making all over again. He told them about their rights and possibilities. About Angels, Demons, the Apocalypse and Rem and Black Jack's efforts. About Wolfwood and Milly and his Guard. About the Vaults and the risks of facing these things. He spoke of the Angelina sisters and their problems. He even told them about the Plants and Knives.
And about himself and Arch Angels.

The audience of the detained humans listened to every single word that tumbled mercilessly from the imploring lips of one Humanoid Typhoon and they stared owlishly as his gesticulations became more and more desperate. A shocked silence smothered their tongues and any fool within the throng who had the audacity to murmur was shot down with the glares of the rest. Sometime during the tirade, Meryl had left her shelter and was watching her Guardian Angel, as enthralled as everyone else was.

Before long, Vash realized he wasn't even in control of his tongue anymore. His heart was beating a rhythm that fluttered in his chest, dizzying yet powerful, it's tempo somehow pumping breath up through his voice box to form the words that were greedily snatched up by everyone present. Nerves and lack of intervals meant that the blonde's lips and throat began to dry and crack, but regardless, he plunged on.
Until there was nothing else to say.

As Vash the Stampede breathed deeply, trying to regain the breath he had lost, he awaited for a reaction with a blank and empty kind of patience that denoted all emotions he that had twisted within him had all left with his words.
Silence swept the area like a fraying shroud.

Time out did itself.
And still, nobody said anything. 

As if to certify the mood and to reassure people that time was, indeed, present, a miracle happened.

The light ebbed from the area and the golden glow of the double suns slowly dissipated, replacing the warm hues of Gunsmoke in sudden grey.
The black, gaping shadow of the fifth moon swung over and began to eat into the smallest sun while the third moon encompassed its equal solar globe. And the result was two blinding rings into the suddenly dank sky. Like two burning halos.
Gunsmoke experienced its first duel eclipse and birthed itself anew as a double headed Angel.

The lightshow sent silent shivers through everyone present, the halos blinding yet hypnotic, like holy hellfire. But the mesmerizing effect was short lived. Because, billowing and bundling on the horizon before advancing like an army, thick, angry and black clouds rolled majisterially across the sky. They swept over the blackened heavens. Over the halos. Over the heads of everyone present, conquering and dominating. As they claimed the entirety of the sky, the rings of the suns were dulled but still visible through the gloom as gossamer coronas; as duel crowns stolen and donned by the storm.
A huge rumbling cracked and split through the air, shaking the ground and sending tremors into the hearts of child and adult alike.
The day was regained for a split second as a brilliant lance of silver snaked through the sky, fleeting quickly but burning its fleeting existence into the wide eyes of everyone present.
And then the heavens opened.

Rain fell to Gunsmoke.

And nobody moved. Everyhead was raised, every eye wide and staring. Every mouth ajar and every breath lost. But no one dared to move. Because there was not one soul within the arena that didn't know that something incredibly special was happening, and no one wanted to reach for it lest it be stolen back.
It was an omen, and though no one knew what of, it was powerful enough to rule them.

'Water... From the sky...' Meryl muttered as she and Vash had managed to scramble to solid ground at the base of the water tower. She slipped her hand into his as if for some sort of support, and the motion caused Vash to jolt his consciousness back to reality. Milly, Wolfwood and Ange met them but said nothing, their faces still raised.

'Rain.' Ange managed in shock.

All heads in the containment camp drifted downwards and the populace leveled their eyes expectantly on the Angel of Death, waiting, silent still as the rain pelted the dusty earth and drenched the throng in cold, biting droplets.

'They think you did it...' Wolfwood breathed, his slate eyes flickering between the eerily intent gazes of the nearest spectators.

'Me? But I-' Vash began feebly. His spiky hair was beginning to sag and plaster to his forehead, strands hanging in his eyes and dripping moisture.
Movement stole their attention.

Before long, the bustling that rippled the crowd snaked its way closer until a culprit could be found. A young girl, quite pretty in a homely, insouciant kind of way pushed herself forward and managed to finally struggle her way to the small clearing at the base of the water tank, her blonde hair plastered about her freckled face and eyes gleaming.

'Mr. Vash the Stampede?' she asked breathlessly, hands clasped into hopeful fists and stance wide.

'Yes?' Vash replied in a mild daze, unable to keep up to events. His hand tightened around Meryl's slightly and she was the one to shake herself into sense this time.
The child grinned broadly and bowed low.

'I'd like to join the War, Sir.' she said. 'As thanks for what you did for my Papa.'

'Your Papa...' Meryl repeated, as bewildered as her companions. The girl blinked her green eyes and nodded, comprehension clearing her expression as she realized the small group had no idea in what she was saying. She turned and waved a hand into the crowd, droplets flying from her clothing as the rain pattered across her sun-tanned skin.
An elderly man followed the child's pre-determined path and pushed his way to her side. As soon as he was clear of the crowd, he straightened and smiled brightly at Vash.

'Do I-' the Sixty Billion Double Dollar Man began, squinting as his memory tweaked at the face of the man.

'You saved a poor soul like me when others had simply given up. I want to help.' the man explained, lowering his head in a mingling cocktail of respect, shame and recollection. Sadness ghosted across his weathered face in nostalgia and it wasn't until that angst resided there that Vash realized who he was looking at.

'The Howler from the Steamer!' the blonde gunman blurted, eyes wide. The Howler raised his face and nodded haltingly.

'May I repay my debt?' he asked softly, face hopeful.

'I-' Vash attempted, at a loss for words.

'Vash the Stampede?!' a voice blurted to their left. 'You helped my family escape December! I'm going to fight too!'

'I want to help too!' someone else from the audience declared desperately, as if they might lose the chance to say so.

'I'll fight! Let me fight!' another blurted, followed instantly by another offer, then another.
Before long, people were shouting and clambering for attention.

'I don't believe any of this.' Meryl confessed, slightly stunned. She jumped when the door to the Angel Headquarters was thrown open and the sudden entrance caused silence fall once again on the throng.
They, no doubt, were expecting something else amazing to happen.

What they got was Alex Bennet, Rem Saverem and the third Angelina. In whom all three came to a sudden halt when they realized water was falling from the sky.

'Rain!' Alex exclaimed, raising his face to the heavens and laughing incredulously. He turned his grin to Rem who exchanged it, then twirled on the spot, her arms spread wide. She in turn she dropped her estatic smile to Vash.

'Look, Vash! Rain! Just like on Earth!' she exclaimed, her amber eyes wide and dancing in mirth and elation.

'I know.' Vash returned, blinking. 'It just... Started...'

'Lina, what happened to your face?!' Ange demanded over the gunman's feeble excuse for an explanation, blinking at her sister who blushed crimson at the query. Lina coughed surrepititiously and rubbed futilely at the smudges and dried blood on her face.

'I tripped.' was the feeble lie. The blonde Angelina sister cleared her throat awkwardly, then attempted to change the subject by turning to Vash and asking, 'Have you got an army yet?'

'I'd say so.' Wolfwood muttered. His eyes were not on the rain, nor on the sudden volunteers... But instead, he was glaring at his cigarette that had been drenched, doused and was currently sagging limply from his fingers as if it was the only real thing in the world.

'Well done!' Alex congratulated as he took in the hundreds of determined faces that surrounded the group. He laughed again and clapped the new Angel of Death on the shoulder.

'But I didn't do anything!' Vash replied piteously. 'I- I just told them the whole story and then the suns were swallowed up, then water started falling form the sky and now everyone wants to help!'

'It sounds like Fate to me.' a familiar voice noted to their right. Turning their faces to it, the two Angelina sisters and Vash jumped as they met the eyes of a completely dry individual who was standing in the rain as an aristocrat did an alleyway. 'Wouldn't you say?' Fate asked, smiling brightly and shrugging.

'You!' Ange blurted, pointing an accusing finger at the woman.

'Don't be rude.' Fate replied indignantly. 'I'm only trying to help matters along.'

'She likes meddling.' Death offered from her side, raising a cynical eyebrow and looking most unhappy.

'Oh, hush.' was the immediate retort. Unfolding her arms, the tall woman cleared her throat then advanced to Vash. The water fell about her, but not a single drop hit her eerily white skin. Yet she made a great show of brushing herself off before she held out a small object to the new Angel of Death.

'What's th-?' Vash asked, but swallowed the rest of his sentence when the offending object was pushed pointedly into his hand.

'It has something it wants to say.' Fate confessed, smiling, then took a step back.

Greetings. the Meta Kard blinked, its scratched, dulled screen flashing steadily. Vash's jaw became slack.

'Hey! That's your-' Wolfwood stuttered in a fluster.

You could at least say something, you oaf. the Kard admonished. After all, we're sacrificing our time to help you.

'"We"?' Vash repeated weakly, fingers tightening over the small rectangle of metal lest it disappear.

Oh yes. They wish to help as well. the Meta Kard confessed instantly, almost smugly. Its little green screen flickered slightly and the world, as if subservient to it, shifted.
This being, evidently, because from almost every single spare space within the scene, the cats arose. There were hundreds upon hundreds of them. The multitudes of felines stood to as much attention as an animal was able to, their wide globe like eyes glowing, their grins all too knowing.
Nobody dared move.

'I don't believe any of this.' Meryl repeated, shrinking from the army of cats like snow from flame.

'Th-Thanks.' Vash managed weakly to his Meta Kard.

You're welcome. was the magnanimous reply.

'Wow, Mr. Vash! It looks like we're all ready to save the world!' Milly declared brightly. Her cheeks were flushed slightly from the cold downpour of rain, and her hair had been drenched into a darker brown from the water.
Regardless, she seemed to be completely incognizant to this and very set on the idea of Liberation.

'Not quite.' Lina corrected.

'That's right... Where's Black Jack and Geli?' Rem asked, turning on the spot in a bid to find the missing pair.

And it was at that moment that the double doors of the Angelic Headquarters in Augusta chose to explode. And, evidently, expel the strangest train Gunsmoke was likely to see ever again.
The convey itself was very small, close to the ground and due to the speed in which it flew from the still flaming exit, not much could be seen of this near ballistic chain of silver other than the fact it was sectioned off periodically like a chain did links. The whole mass of metal screeched as it tore through the sluge and gouged a trail into the earth. And still feele upon feele of the long vehicle ploughed on through the dirt, crowd and air as it stretched into the distance. 
But inertia couldn't hold out against the resistance of the muddy ground, and eventually the tiny train slowed...
And it became obvious that this long line of silver was actually a long line of lockers thrown on it's back with their doors facing the rainy sky.

The whole string of bunkers creaked to a slow and painful sounding halt, steaming rising from the joints and dissipating quickly in the rain. And two of these lockers, ones in which had just emerged from the flaming doorway, had their doors flung wide open... And both were occupied.

The first carriage was host to Geli, who, as it would seem, raised a fist and tugged an invisible cord twice before bellowing at the top of her lungs,

'AAAAAALL ABOARD!!!'

She thereafter burst out into a fit of cackles and swiveled in her makeshift seat to exchange a high five to the occupant of the locker behind hers. Being that Black Jack was not, in fact, a child like the second Angelina, his long legs were currently crossed and liberated from the close confines of the bunker's insides. Regardless of being the "adult" of the situation, he was cackling as loudly as Geli and he returned the high five with an equal amount of fervor before in turn shouting,

'@#$% YEAH!!'

'Birds of a Feather...' Lina muttered, rolling her eyes.

'You were supposed to get us some weapons!' Wolfwood accused, kicking the upturned lockers with a vindictive shoe.

'What the @#$% did you expect? The Quadro-@#$%ing-whatzit was trashed.' Black Jack returned indignantly, folding his arms. Then frowned as moisture splattered across his bare arms and face.

'It's a bunch of lockers.' Meryl pointed out bluntly.

'Are you kidding?!' Geli demanded as her partner in crime attempted to pull himself from the small locker in inspect the rain. 'Every single one of these suckers has at LEAST one gun in them! That's weapons enough, right?'

'So, we can Save The World now, right?' Milly asked, not to be deterred from the matter at hand.

There was a short silence as most present began ticking off their mental checklist.

'We got an army, weapons and a plan.' Wolfwood pointed out in response. 'I'd say we're as ready as we'll ever be.'
He nodded to himself, then cast a glance to Milly and Meryl who in turn looked to the crowd, blinking. And they turned to the three young children with the silver eyes. The Angelinas cast those eerie gazes to the Manager of Heaven and Hell, and  Rem instantly turned to glance at Alex.
During all of this, Alex Bennet hadn't removed his eyes from his blonde haired successor.
Vash nodded at him.

'Are we ready?' the Humanoid Typhoon asked the world in general.

And the World replied Yes.

 

 

Over head, through the clouds, the duel halos burnt fire into the grey of the storm, competing for dominance and brilliance. 
Burning like the infernos of justice.

The fight began.

 


-----*+*-----

 

-----AUTHOR'S NOTES-----

Lynda: Again, my profuse apologies. Especially to Vincent Hunter in whom has been wondering if I'll continue or not. The answer? Yes!! ^_^
And the chappie sucks. I know. It's rushed and stoopid and blarg. I, however, won't dwell on it. ^_~
Um... I should really thank everyone. I was blown away by the amount of people that reviewed/e-mailed/messaged me concerning my absence, and that was the nicest thing ever. **sniffles and gets emotional**
ANYWAY, on to other notes!

Tyreal-san! **bows low** You are completely right! I've been spending quite a bit of my free time going back and beta-checking all my fic to have it nice 'n' neat for the finale, and I've come to notice this too! I haven't actually had any complaints about that as of yet, but I suppose when you look at it, you're right. It comes with the humor, and unfortunately, humor has habitually traveled all the way through this story. ^^;; Araa...
So I'm sorry!! **bows low again**

Kuroneko: Myaaa... =^T_T^=

Lynda: Secondly! Anyone that talks to me via ICQ or wishes to... SORRY!! My computer karked it ("died") aaaages ago, (the other excuse for lack o' update) and so no more ICQ. No more anything for that matter. -_-;;
But fear not! Notepad serves me well!! **pats notepad**