9 Chapter 1: 9 Crimes, a gundam wing/ac fanfic

"9"

By L. Valensi

SUMMARY
The story is set in A.C. 205, little less than ten years since the series ended in Endless Waltz. It centers around the new life of Gundam pilot Duo Maxwell, who co-owns a prosperous salvaging company with Hilde Schbeiker. Just as life looks as if it's going as well as it ever will, things in the business world go awry and Duo's new life spins out of control. The people that he loves start dying once again, one by one disappearing from what he thought was a perfect life. And to add insult to injury, all the events may lead up to something both the Earth and the Colonies were hoping to avoid: war. Duo seeks help from old friends, but finds himself in a precarious situation where he will have to choose between his heart and his life.

DISCLAIMER
Before you read this, be aware that this is 1x2 fanfiction, meaning it involves a relationship between two males (specifically Heero and Duo). I do not own Gundam Wing nor do I own the characters. All events and terminology related to the canon GW belong to the creators. The title of the story, as well as the chapter names, are taken directly from Damien Rice's most recent album, "9" (buy it—it's heartbreakingly fantastic). All criticism, especially concerning terminology/time discrepancies/facts, are heartily welcome. On to the story!

Chapter One

9 Crimes

-- Leave me out with the waste—this is not what I do
-- It's the wrong kind of place to be thinking of you
-- It's the wrong time for somebody new
-- It's a small crime, and I've got no excuse
-- And is that alright with you—
-- If I give my gun away when it's loaded?

A.C. 205 – The Graveyard, After the Fire

Duo Maxwell can't pinpoint exactly when he'd started smoking—but he has an inkling it was the moment when, in what the papers called a "freak accident," a mysterious fire consumed his homely salvaging business. He doesn't know exactly when he began to breathe life back into the soul of his resting alter ego, the God of Death—but he's fairly sure it was the instant he realized that the body of his friend and business partner, Hilde Schbeiker, was nowhere to be found.

He's found only a video-note: "Our turn," it displays tersely, possibly expecting Duo to understand the where-and-why of it. Duo rubs his temples with his cigarette hand, trying to press the nicotine into his skin, hoping with an acolyte's faith that the drug, if applied closer to his brain, will make a difference.

Oh, Hilde's alive—Duo has no doubt of that. He's sure of the why, too. (In hindsight, Duo understands that he should not have risked 'salvaging' what he knew was private property from the Leo Minor network on the slowly degenerating Southside of L2. But in return, he gained the trust and local political control of the Northern Canes Venatici network—what self-respecting businessman could refuse that? He didn't like the Leo Minor that much, anyway—sooner or later he would have found a way to get rid of them and their penchant for kidnapping child recruits.) He just didn't understand, at the moment, why they would bother with such a ridiculous plan to get him to hand over what he'd stolen. As he sees it, they would have achieved more by killing themselves.

Duo sighs, and in one motion both kills the cigarette and stands up, dusting the ashes from his trousers, leaving trails of white in his fingers' wake. He walks with measured steps (an attempt to remain calm) towards a polished mahogany cabinet with gold gargoyle knobs. The cabinet is one of about five ornaments of color in Duo's miniscule apartment home, which consists of an office, a bedroom, a kitchen, and a bathroom –all sparsely decorated (somewhat of a departure from the chatty, uplifting nature the ex-pilot maintains).

The door swings out to reveal a full-length mirror, which inspects the notable differences between Duo at the end of the Mariemaia Incident and the present. It detects that since the youth reached adulthood at the end of A.C. 198, a significant two feet carefully added their effects onto Duo's still-muscular body. The mirror considers it a miraculous growth, which overshadows the extra foot Duo allowed his hair to grow to match his towering height. Though he still holds the face of a boy, the mirror acknowledges that Duo Maxwell is who he claims to be—proven by the darkness of his visage as he turns to face himself, the God of Death.

As much as he would like to say that the Death in him has washed away with the light of peace offered by Earth Sphere United Nation and its new Vice Foreign Minister, Duo can't—he can see by the shadows around his eyes and the glint in his indigo irises that he can't ever refuse the call of the hunt. He, on more than one occasion, has asked himself whether or not he is really alive—if there is ever really a reason to continue, or if he is forever doomed to seek some kind of war.

He adjusts his priest's collar and the golden cross beneath it. He walks back to his desk, sits down, and calls for the video receiver. He dials a number and decides he will think about it all later after he locates Hilde and kills the motherfucker who took her.

A.C. 205 – The Winner Estate

Quatre Raberba-Winner is sitting peacefully with a teacup in one hand and handing Trowa Barton a cup of his own with the other. Neither has changed too much—each man has grown according to their genes and are properly dressed as young men are supposed to be, Quatre more so. Trowa Barton's face is gleaming with a tenderness that was rare in the past, except perhaps in Quatre. They sit in silence, drinking and glancing at the differences in each other's demeanor.

"You're staying for a while this time, won't you?" Quatre asks, confident in the answer. He smiles, not having seen much of any of the other pilots since they parted ways. Though, he gladly manages to keep in closer touch with Trowa more than the others, as he personally attends each performance his circus holds in Quatre's area. And Trowa, in return, makes sure there is a performance there each tour. "You and the others have been working quite hard for a while now. It's only right if you stop a little bit, isn't it?"

Trowa nods, drinking the last of the cup's steamy contents. "I've told Catherine to disband for a little while, to give us all a general vacation," He says, with both his patented calm and a degree of newfound warmth, "so, I'm able to stay longer. That is, if it's no trouble to you,"

"Trouble?" Quatre asks with a soft laugh. "My, Trowa, if you're trouble, I wouldn't know how to survive in something like a war."

The two laugh vocally and steadily, and look at each other with longing eyes, sharing the irony and basking in the freedom of their simple actions.

A slight Arabian man in beige garb enters the room, bowing towards Quatre. "I'm sorry to intrude, Master Winner, but Mr. Maxwell is waiting on the receiver for you,"

"Thank you, Mustafa, we will take the call from here," Quatre says, nodding politely to the man with smile. A slim receiver lined in sand-colored, polished stone rises from a compartment inside the table to their right, displaying Duo Maxwell with every pretense of mischievous joy exhibited on his boyish face.

"Hey Qu—whoa," Duo says, widening his eyes. "Is there some sort of pilot reunion call I missed?"

"No," Trowa says with a small smile. "I'm just staying with Quatre for a while."

"Oh, I see," Duo says, his tone betraying his subtlety.

"Would you like to join us, Duo?" Quatre interjects quickly. "Trowa's here while his troupe is on vacation. You owe yourself one too, after what happened,"

"About that," Duo says, his voice losing a degree of its initial happiness. "Listen, Quatre, I need help in locating Hilde."

Quatre looks at his friend helplessly, turning to Trowa for advice. The other lowered his eyes in silent pity. It must have hit him hard, losing Hilde, Quatre thinks as he looks desperately at Duo. The silence between them grows and neither Quatre nor Trowa are sure of how to answer Duo's request.

"Look, if you can't do it or whatever, it's okay," Duo says, a little irritated at the blank looks on their faces.

"No, it's not that, Duo, it's just…"

"Just…what?"

"They reported Hilde as dead, Duo," Trowa says, with a look of true concern. Quatre's face falls in what looked like sadness. Duo freezes, blinks, and laughs out loud, causing the other two men to both worry and to observe him confusedly.

"Duo?"

"Ah, I'm sorry, guys," Duo says, out of breath. "I completely forgot about that."

"Forgot about what, Duo?" Trowa queries, more than a little unsettled.

"Well, uh," Duo stammers. "You see…"

"Out with it, Maxwell,"

"Alright," Duo says seriously, smiling grimly. "But don't act like you didn't see it coming."

The two ex-pilots share a look, noting with a wordless understanding that their friend, Duo Maxwell, has been productive in peacetime—though with what they both feel as something forebodingly dangerous. They look at Duo once more with their full attention, both sensing an underlying and seething anger in the smiling American.

A.C. 197 – The Graveyard

Duo sits behind a cherry oak desk, lightly decorated with a single rose in a glass vase and a picture turned away from the three young men seated on the other side. The trio fidgets from time to time as Duo reviews their résumés in thoughtful silence. Though Duo looks far younger than the three men before him, even they know his history—and, furthermore, can all feel an aura of force around him that unsettles the very pits of their stomachs.

Duo looks up with a disarming smile, which serves to initially frighten and then calm the three men.

"I gotta say, guys, you didn't really need these," Duo says cheerily, stuffing the papers into a wastebin beside him. "All you had to do was tell me you needed a job. You guys seem like real decent people, y'know? We'll be glad to give you a place here, no problem."

The three men grip their seats in order for them to keep from jumping up in surprise and joy.

"Ah, well, don't look so surprised, gentlemen," Duo says, grinning broadly. A petite, yet well-toned young woman in tight-fitting army garb enters the dark office, shedding light upon the three men and Duo's smiling countenance. "Aw, Hilde, you know I don't like it when you barge in like that."

"Well, did you hire them or not? Because I got a craft ready and I'm not seeing anybody in it except for me," Hilde says, hands on hips.

"We'll find you gentlemen some lodging and get you your startup money after we get a little work done," Duo tells them reassuringly. He stands up to put an arm around the slightly-vexed Hilde and smiles. "Sonny, Won-ton, Axe—welcome to the network! Now let's get to salvaging, eh?"

A.C. 199 – The Graveyard

Hilde comes bouncing into Duo's office, which is considerably more furnished than before—floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, an antique vase full of fresh-cut roses, another picture frame, and richly-framed original paintings by a now-famous Sonny da Vinci. Duo shields his face from the burst of light and crinkles his nose at Hilde and the young man trapped in her grip.

"Guess who passed the STAR exam and is coming to visit us after landing a new job with the L2 Justice Department?" Hilde asks rhetorically, hugging the brunette beside her with full force. Duo jumps up with a wide smile, joining the embrace.

"Axel Drummond, you goddamn overachieving bastard, you!" Duo says, rubbing Axel's well-groomed head with his gloved knuckles. Hilde laughs and lets go, and Duo follows, though keeping his hands on Axel's shoulders. He embraces the other man earnestly, patting him on the back before releasing him. "We're really proud of you, Axe,"

The young man beams and kneels before Duo unexpectedly, taking Duo's gloved hand and removing the article of clothing. Duo begins to protest but is silenced by Axel's lips touching the back of his hand.

"I should be thanking you, my Brother," Axel says quietly but proudly, pressing Duo's hand to his temple.

Hilde watches silently in the background, very much shocked at Axel's strange actions. Duo looks towards Hilde, questioning what was happening, but accepts Axel's motions as Earthly tradition that he didn't understand.

"You don't have to do all that, Axe," Duo says with a light chuckle, bringing the other, probably older man to his feet. "I'm just glad you were able to do what you've always wanted."

"No, Brother, you don't understand," Axel says seriously. "You have given me a new, better life. And for that, I owe you mine. I'm forever in your debt."

"Listen, Axel, this really isn't necessary—"

"Believe me, Brother. Don't ever hesitate to call on me for anything. I am at your beck and call, whatever it may be."

Duo exhales, finding it futile to change the hardheaded lawyer's mind. He smiles and shakes Axel's hand firmly.

"Alright, then, Counselor, I accept. Good luck to you out there and remember that you're always welcome here."

A.C. 200 – The Graveyard

"They're calling us the Maxwell Network," Hilde says with a smirk and a sarcastic roll of her eyes. "Little do they know this pile of heap is nothin' without pretty old me."

Duo shakes his head and sighs, head on his palm. "Is that some weird phenomenon on Earth, too? I'll admit, I thought the hand-kissing was just some kind of tribute of respect, but they've actually pegged us with a name because of all this nonsense."

"Isn't it flattering, though, Duo? I mean, the business is going insanely well with all the connections we're making and the freedom we've gained, what with Axel, Carmine, Jion, and Marisela essentially buying that new legislation that allows cross-colony salvaging sans excise taxation. And Morty and Kilo are heading our area's police force and going easy on our less-than-legal excursions into factory backyards."

"I know, I know, Hilde. I'm extremely pleased with all the progress your business has made," Duo says, "but I'm pretty sure this moniker is just going to bring bad news. They're going to start suspecting we're some sort of rebel group and then the government's gonna start investigating if we're harmful to the peace and then everything's gonna go downhill from there."

Hilde rounds the corners of the desk and places her hands on Duo's tensed shoulders, easing them with soft massages. "Just look at it as free publicity, Mr. Paranoid," She says, giving him a soft hug. Duo relaxes slightly and puts The Lagrange Chronicle down. Hilde kisses him on the cheek.

"Hilde," Duo says, with a rather tired and vexed tone. Hilde releases her grip on him and moves for the door. She turns around with a small smile.

"Don't worry, Duo. It's just a name."

A.C. 200 – Lagrange Two Periphery, Unnamed Area 526

The small salvaging spacecrafts, which Duo aptly named Maxwell's Demon and the Schbeikerschklist (he was particularly proud of this), roved around a previously undiscovered area around the L2's borders. There's a respectable amount of dispensed cargo shuttles clustered around what looks to Duo like a magnetically charged hunk of rock, possibly containing rare minerals.

"Don't even think about it, Maxwell," Hilde warns, pointing to the full load they had on both spacecrafts. This slightly annoys him, as they had ordered two bigger ships earlier in the month. It had taken them three more months to figure out what to do with the money they had amassed without drawing too much attention to the prosperity of their business.

Lately, salvaging businesses became more common around the edges of L2, whether they were locally started or other colonial businesses found legislation to be more lax in L2 than the other colonies. Naturally, Duo encouraged this in the beginning, as by that time, their business had flourished enough for both he and Hilde to live comfortably if they decided to shut down.

The downside to the competition was just that—competition. The businesses that started up were rarely dependent on their own workers and skills—they were often more focused on scrounging up whatever Duo couldn't take with him, and very effectively at that. (This hyena-like behavior irks him to no end, as sometimes he can't give his employees assignments for days on end while he and Hilde mapped out new areas to scavenge.)

Decent workers that were steadily streaming in from Earth and other colonies were winding up in bad working conditions in other salvaging businesses, which, more than often, espoused the idea that Duo's business was the devil amidst them, and that it must be put out of business if L2 was to enjoy a monopoly-free atmosphere.

Now, the real salvaging businesses that Duo respected for their integrity were also beginning to zone in on that idea, despite the mutual agreement they had with each other to compete in peace. In a strange turn of events, as soon as Duo's business earned the name the Maxwell Network, the other businesses coined names of their own. There were four other particularly well-established salvaging businesses: the Networks, however, were named relative to their owners: respectively, the Canis Major (the Dog Pound) in the West; the Volans (the Shoreline Salvaging Company) in the East; the Canes Venatici (Vultures Incorporated) in the North; and the Orion (the Hunter's Lodge) in the South.

Duo sighs and spies from the corner of his eyes the faint silhouette of veiled rival spacecrafts on the cargo shuttles, waiting for his departure from the site.

"Don't worry, Duo, we're good for another month of work. We may even be able to send Rider and the other recruits tomorrow by themselves if the new ships come in," Hilde says in the video receiver below him.

"It's just dumb for them to go on like this, always trying to provoke fights by outright foul play," Duo says, flatly irritated. "I won't have it, but they're bound to piss off someone else. Each other, maybe. Haven't these people had enough of war?"

"That would be betraying human nature, Duo," Hilde says with a tired sigh. "You give 'em enough peace and they're hankering for a whole new OZ to rain hell on the galaxy."

Duo smirks grimly and keeps quiet, docking in silence.

A.C. 203 – The Graveyard

Representative Won Tonshu Assassinated in L2 Home, reads the Chronicle's main headline.

The newspaper is crumpled within the confines of Duo's hands and is promptly slammed onto the table. Duo curls his fist and punches directly through his window, spraying shattered glass around him. He can feel his knuckles welling up with blood from the impact, but the pain felt less real than the despair vibrating in his blood. He sinks to his knees in a desperate attempt to hold his growingly fragile spirit together. The list keeps growing, he thinks, and I still don't know what to do to stop it.

"They really know how to piss somebody off, don't they," He whispers weakly, having heard Hilde enter quietly to see what he had done. He feels her hands encircle his shoulders and her head prop itself on his arm.

"Duo, I'm sorry," She says softly.

"He didn't deserve this. Rider didn't fucking deserve this. Jimmy hadn't even been with us two weeks and he was a good kid," Duo shudders and Hilde holds on in fear that he'll break. It's a moment or two of silence before Duo stops shaking and Hilde is able to let him go.

He stands up and retrieves a black leather jacket from his closet. He turns towards Hilde, with an expression eerily similar to the one he wore while piloting Deathscythe, and says, "I'll be back in the morning. Don't wait up."

Hilde swears that, despite the blurred image of Duo behind her tears, as Duo moved towards the sunset, she saw the shadow of demon wings follow the ex-pilot.

A.C. 203 – Lion's Den

Duo, unmatched by any living being in stealth operations still, proves his excellent skill retention by seamlessly infiltrating the headquarters of the Leo Minor Network through air ducts extending to the nearby shipment factory it boasts. Fortunately, since peacetime, the majority of the population has been low-inclined to gain knowledge of combat and weapon tactics. (If the rage hadn't convinced him to don his God of Death alter-ego once more, Duo would have more reservations in picking off the unsuspecting guards, one by one, but that's not the case.) Duo reaches his point of interest—that being the office of Victor Leo Minor, head of the network.

"You know how I hate unannounced guests, Mr. Maxwell," Minor says with an arrogant smile. Duo spies his hand move towards the bottom edge of the desk between them, no doubt to signal his goonies to play guard dog before Duo has the chance to off with his head. "Unfortunately, I don't have room in my schedule for your attempt at grieving right now."

Duo cocks his head innocently at the much older man, playing his youthful role in order to distract the other from his fatal situation. Under the shadows produced by his baseball cap, Minor is unable to see the blood-stopping anger in Duo's eyes.

"Well, y'know, I've only really got about a minute's worth to say, so let's just stay still a little bit, won't we?" Duo says with an entirely morphed tone of voice, which is at once cold as well as gleeful.

The longer Minor is alone in the room, the less confident he appears. He's wondering what's taking the others so long to come to his aid. The approaching figure of Duo Maxwell, cloaked in darkness, is causing him considerable mental stress. It can't possibly be, Minor thinks, I can't get trapped by this—this kid.

"You're a lot less talkative than I expected you to be," Duo chuckles, seating himself in the chair in front of Minor's desk. Minor's hands inch toward his desk to grab his gun and prevent his death, but is frozen in place when Duo says, "Move your hand away from that drawer and I might even give you room to apologize before I blow your fucking head off."

Minor sits back, realizing the ramifications of his actions. But he's just a kid, Minor thinks, just a fucking kid! His heart pumps enough blood to cause his pale, fat face to fill with redness. The anxiety alone is enough to send him reeling into unconsciousness, but the hidden face of the boy before him is keeping him paralyzed, as if one tilt of that head and one look into his eyes will turn him into stone.

"Mack," Duo says, almost upbeat, flicking a bloody finger like a burnt-out cigarette across the table to Minor's chest. "Lyle, Scamp, Sugar, and Tony," Duo says in a sing-song tone, grinning like a madman as the body parts stain Minor's pressed white suit. "I took the liberty of taking two of your guys for every one of my brothers you took, without permission, from me," Duo seethes.

"Oops," He says softly, momentarily confusing the still Minor. Silence lays out between the two men before Duo shoots Victor Leo Minor square in the eyes. "Forgot one," Duo cheerily remarks.

A.C. 204 – The Graveyard

"We believe in the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come, Amen."

The priest proceeds to shower three decorated graves with holy water as several of the Graveyard's workers finish their prayers and depart to ship off to their next assignment. Duo, however, remains behind with Hilde at his side.

"You never did tell me what you did to avenge them, Duo," Hilde says, wistfully looking at the three graves.

"I didn't have to do anything, Hilde," Duo says, laughing. "Death dealt with the bastards who killed our brothers better than I ever could."

"If I'm not mistaken, Duo, you are Death, aren't you?" She says knowingly.

"You very well are, my dear Hilde," He replies. She looks at him disapprovingly. "I run, I hide, but I never lie, Hilde. It was Death himself. Nothing to do with me."

The two leave the graves and return to the docking area. They look proudly at the three new shiny ships, named Jimmy, Rider, and Won-ton, greeting them with their brand-new trademark clear for the colony to see.

Duo whistles, acting mighty impressed. "Ain't they bee-yoo-tiful?"

Hilde nods as she accepts a handful of paperwork from the head delivery pilot, flipping through them with interest.

"I'm gonna go ahead and take old Demon for a quick periphery sweep, okay?" Duo says, already making motions to board the spacecraft.

"Alright. Don't bring back too much, if you find anything at all. I still have to reorganize last night's collection into the additional bins, which in turn still have to be properly labeled," Hilde sighs, looking up from the paperwork. "In other words, I gotta do all the dirty work, so don't add to the shit load, okay, Maxwell?"

"Gotcha, boss," Duo says, grinning and rocketing irresponsibly fast out of the atmosphere.

As Duo attempts to contact Hilde for a clear docking zone, he finds the connection unable to link him to her. Moreover, as he closes in on the Graveyard's location, he realizes that the entire block seems to be covered in heavy, opaque smog. Duo cries out in disbelief, ironically cursing himself as he finds a clear field to land.

He makes a desperate race towards the Graveyard and finds nothing but smoldering rubble and yellow tape preventing his entrance. He stares in horror.

Hilde, he thinks, Where's Hilde?

He runs around the entire area, looking for any sign of the blue-haired German. He pulls aside a paramedic violently, asking, "Did you find Hilde Schbeiker?"

The paramedic, already harried from the rescue, exclaims, "No! Look, we don't know who's who yet. The fire just happened a little while ago. Now, if you excuse me, people are dying. Let me do my job."

Duo, helpless, lets him go and turns his attention back to the fire.

He sneaks into his office as the sun sets and the police become entangled with civilian questions. He looks around for any sign of Hilde, any part that can possibly quell the sickness in his stomach and tell him whether he should be angry or grieving terribly. But instead he finds nothing of significance.

He thinks back, cursing himself for leaving her unprotected. But he never could have seen this attack coming—after all, everything had been peaceful after the Leo Minor incident, which he and the other four networks agreed happened for the better. It seems so out of place, so—

Until he remembers what he'd managed to steal from Leo Minor, and the rumored involvement of the Volans Network being in business to obtain it.

Shit, Duo thinks. He falls to his knees and rubs his temples, retrieving a cigarette case full of dusty Sobranies. "I didn't think I'd ever need one of these, Howard," He says, attempting to suppress any overwhelming emotion with the memory of his awkwardly-dressed mentor handing him a case of cigarettes for his twentieth birthday.

He uses the dying fire to light the slim, black cigarette and in the process spies a beeping piece of metal in the burning carbon that used to be his desk. He attempts to pick it up, but finds his fingers slightly burned. He puts on his gloves and stealthily plays hot-potato to bring the video-note to a cooler environment.

The note escapes his grip and makes tinkling noises as it falls a few feet away from Duo, revealing only two words.

A.C. 205 – The Graveyard

"What the note said doesn't matter," Duo says, not meaning to allow his anger to seep through his farcical routine. "What matters is that I need your help in finding Hilde. They've taken her hostage somewhere, and the Volans Network consists of old pre-colonial businessmen with wiles and connections just like your father had."

"What was it that you stole?" Trowa asks, still calm in his seat.

"Look, Trowa, I'm short on time," Duo says, knowledgeable of his evasion. By the looks of it, Trowa is as well. "I just want to know if you can help me or not."

"I'll see what I can do, Duo, but most of the systems in general are undergoing renovation right now at the Winner Estate," Quatre replies honestly. "I can't promise instant results on her whereabouts."

"You should ask Heero for help," Trowa offers. "As the Foreign Minister's bodyguard, he has free reign of the ESUN's anti-war technology, which should help you greatly—probably more effectively than Quatre's technology can at the moment."

The look on Duo's face says exactly what he is thinking, despite his best efforts to hide it: Fuck, he thinks, I was hoping it wasn't going to come to that.

"Alright. Thanks, Quatre, Trowa," Duo says, visibly fatigued. "I'll talk to you soon."

"You're welcome, Duo," Quatre says kindly. "I will try my best… believe me. Trowa and I will put our best efforts into finding Hilde for you. Good-bye, my friend."

"Yeah. See ya," Duo gives a wave good-bye and a big grin before shutting off the video-receiver and lighting another cigarette. He looks at the seven cigarettes still left in the embroidered titanium case.

This is the wrong time to be thinking of you, he says to himself.

NOTES

- The names of the Networks are taken from constellations.

- For future reference (I'm sure I make another one), Maxwell's demon is, according to Wikipedia, "an 1867 thought experiment ... meant to raise questions about the possibility of violating the second law of thermodynamics."

- All the names of Duo's employees, with the exception of Axel and Won Tonshu, are supposed to be reminiscent of street gangs and/or the mafia. Axel is taken from Kingdom Hearts II's Axel (my favorite KH character); Won Tonshu was a ridiculously punny afterthought.

- The type of Sobranies I mention at the Sobranie Black Russians, black cigarettes with gold filters.