Ugh, I promised myself I'd never post an AU, but I also promised myself I'd finish Memento Mori before I started another multi-chapter fic. Hm. I write a lot of AUs. I mean a ton. Usually they're big ridiculous mash ups of the Leijiverse with random cameos and no sense of storyline. This one is exactly that, except I hope with more of a storyline.
I'm a huge western fan, and the Magnificent 7 is one of my favorites. I stole a few ideas from it and sort of Gun Frontier (though not really. This is pretty much its own AU). This is really one big experiment for me, so give it a shot if you'd like. I'm going to be semi-historically accurate, but don't expect there not to be plenty of fantasy elements in that respect.
Anyway, enough rambling. Onward to…something!
"I need a team." I laced my fingers in front of my smile. "If you want what you're looking for, you'll be on it."
His eyes darkened, his fingers tightening around his cigarette. My sister took a step forward to intervene, but I brushed her off with a quick glance. Despite all the rumors, the mysteries and the bodies to his name, I was in no way afraid of the Man in Black. He wouldn't lay a hand on me.
He took a deep drag, trying to calm himself. His words came out with wisps of smoke. "Quite the trickster, Fräulein. This is a cruel game you're playing." His voice curled lightly around traces of a German accent and was deeply aged despite how young he certainly still was. He couldn't have been past his late twenties.
"It's no game," I returned simply, smoothing the folds of my rose dress. "It's business."
"You're in the business of blackmail? Doesn't seem like much of a place for a lady."
My sister's stormy blue eyes narrowed. Her hand went to her gun at the offense. I interrupted before she could open her mouth. "Business is business. Do you want the information or not?"
He crossed black-cloaked arms across his firm chest, leaning back in his chair. "It's not a question of whether or not I want the information. It's whether or not I want my life. This town is marked for death, fräulein. You should accept it and run while you have the chance. If I were to join this…"posse" of yours, I would surely be killed. How many do you have?"
"Counting you and myself, we'd have seven."
He sighed deeply, removing his worn black hat to run a hand through waves of auburn hair. The dirt that had been clinging to him from the trail fell, becoming dust motes in the light from the window.
"This is suicide," he said.
"This is business," I smiled. "Mr. 'Man in Black,' I know where she is. I can tell you, but I won't unless you protect this town for me. I thought you were a mercenary. Was I mistaken in that assumption?"
"I wouldn't say I'm fond of being called it," he frowned, "but it is as you say."
"I'm paying you with information, and I'm paying you with cash. What more could you ask for? Room and board, drinks, weapons, whatever you need – it's all on me."
"You must be desperate. How many did you say we were up against?"
"I didn't."
"How many?" he repeated sternly.
"At least fifty. Maybe more."
"All trained?"
"Most certainly." I couldn't lie to him. Even if it meant the difference between him joining my side or not – between us winning or losing – I could not lie. If he found out that I'd tricked him, he might not believe that I had the information I said I did, and he could turn on me. That would be an unfortunate end.
He frowned deeply in concentration, leaning forward to rest his forearm against my desk and stare me down. I could smell the tobacco and lye soap clinging to him. "Why does it take so many to kill you?" he asked quietly. "You are just one woman. This is such a small town. What do you hope to accomplish?"
"This is my town," I answered, still smiling easily. "My Arcadia. No one will take that from me. If they think fifty men are enough to take down what I've built up here, they're sorely mistaken. They'll need to call for a fair amount of back-up. I'll show them what the 'Queen of the Railway' is capable of. Let them bring their torches and dynamite. I won't let them get close enough to use any of it."
"But why do they want to kill you, Fräulein?"
I smiled darkly. "Because they think there's something here that they want. And because they think it'll be easy to take it."
He stood slowly, hooking his rifle back over his shoulder. His unpolished black boots caused the floorboards to creak. An amused smile flickered on his lips. "You certainly have some interesting ideals, Fräulein... Maetel, was it?"
"Yes." I stood, ready to shake his hand. I'd finally won him over. He'd been tougher than the rest, but the others had been much simpler to please. "May I have your name? Or would you prefer to be called Mr. Black."
"Warrius," he nodded. "Warrius Zero, but before I sign my life away, I'd like to meet the rest of the men I'll be working with."
Oh dear. If there was one thing I'd been hoping to avoid before he signed his contract, it was that. My team wasn't exactly showroom quality.
"We're not all men," my sister stated behind him. He turned to examine her. She'd dressed herself in her usual white slacks and hat. A sharply red dress shirt fit nicely to her form, and brown gun belts were settled neatly on her hips. Her red hair trailed in a neat waterfall down to her thighs, framing her face – petite like mine. It was the only hint that we could have been twins as we were.
"My apologies," Warrius frowned in disapproval. "And you are?"
"Emeraldas," she returned evenly, gazing at him with a mix of distaste and disinterest. "As long as we'll be working together, don't pretend to be all high and mighty just because of your sex."
"I certainly meant no insult." He tipped his hat with a nervous smile. "I just don't like seeing women involved in fights."
My sister was most certainly about to retort that she could fight just as well or better than any male, but I stopped her with a hasty frown. I didn't need her scaring away another recruit. Besides, he was just that sort of old-fashioned gentleman. I'd guessed as much from the moment he'd pulled out my desk chair for me. What an odd fellow.
"Why don't we head to the bar?" I offered. "I believe that's where all the boys are staying at the moment."
Warrius nodded, looking happy to be out from under my sister's scrutiny. I led him out of my office and down the stairs. He trailed behind me with even, quiet steps despite his boots. He seemed more like a soldier than a gunslinger by the minute. It wasn't my business, but I'd been interested from the beginning.
Some people made me curious. If that happened, I needed to dig until I found everything I wanted to know. Amusingly, all of the men who had stayed to fight had been the ones who'd piqued my interest the first moment I'd laid eyes on them. What interesting creatures they all were.
Out of my offices and across the dusty street, the bar clamored with a warm cheer. The new additions to our town must have brought a fair degree of amusement as well. I could only hope that the amusement was purposeful and not due to something foolish.
After crushing his cigarette under his boot, Warrius held open one of the swinging doors for me before I could brush through them. I accepted his gesture with a nod of thanks. The cold-hearted killer had certainly been trained by someone. Too bad I couldn't say the same for the rest of my team.
"You're going to kill yourself," Harlock called dully. He scratched at one of the jagged scars tracing his cheeks, not looking overly concerned about the boy he was speaking to.
Beside him, his short samurai friend, Tochiro, frowned with worry. "Yeah, maybe you shouldn't do that."
"I've got this," Tadashi hissed, aiming the gun I'd given Tetsuro at a single ace card tacked to the dartboard. The short blond had been trying to prove himself all week. He'd proved himself enough to me by being the first to sign up. I really wished he'd stop trying. He was going to get himself killed.
Tetsuro waved at me from across the bar, ducking away when he saw my stern frown. He didn't need to be loaning out his gun. I'd been hesitant to give Tadashi one of his own due to his lack of experience with them. Tetsuro should have known better.
The rest of the bar crowd chortled and placed bets at the poor northerner's expense. He lined up a shot, the gun held in one hand. Oh dear. Warrius muttered something in German through a sigh.
The shot flew wildly upward as the gun's recoil came back to nail poor Tadashi in the nose. He stumbled back, clutching his face. The gun clattered harmlessly to the floor. "Son of a-!"
I wasn't allowed to hear the rest of the onslaught of curses. Warrius placed his hands over my ears, staring at the greenhorn in pure shock and awe. Tadashi's pain-fueled rant must have been colorful, because the gentleman's ears began to redden.
I couldn't help but laugh. "I've heard cursing before," I called.
With a grumble, he released my ears and stormed up to Tadashi. I thought for a moment he was about to harm the boy further, but I was mistaken. "Hush, kind," he frowned sternly. "Don't curse in front of ladies." A handkerchief appeared from his pocket, and he held it up to the boy's nose to clear the blood flow.
Tadashi snatched the handkerchief away with a growl. "I can say what I want to, mister. That hurt like a bitch." His northern accent was obvious. The little 17 year-old was definitely native to Boston, despite his obvious Japanese heritage. His dress was…amusing. He wore a black vest over a nice pastel-green dress shirt and black slacks. He was clothed to go to a business meeting really. The black cowboy hat I'd bought him was certainly out of place, but he'd been so excited to have it. He'd grinned in triumph as he placed it backward on his head. I wasn't sure what to do with him.
The poor dear still looked pre-pubescent. Warrius was a good two hands taller than the blond and frowned down at him. "Then perhaps you shouldn't have made such a foolish decision, kind," the gentleman responded calmly, picking the gun up to examine. "Have you ever fired a gun before?"
"Of course!"
"Don't lie, kid!" One of the townsfolk jeered.
"I've seen men take their first shot before," Warrius agreed. "That was yours."
"Boys," I called before a fight could begin. "I'd like to have a meeting with all of you."
"Sure, boss," Tochiro grinned, hopping down from his barstool. "What d'ya need?"
Harlock rose slowly on much lankier legs. Their hats were both a tattered brown, filled with holes from countless bullets. The taller man wielded dual pistols like my sister. The brown leather gun belts hooked around tan slacks. A sleeveless fringed jacket of a deep green adorned him over a sky-blue button-up. His mud-brown hair covered one similarly-colored eye and framed the twin scars cutting up across his cheekbones.
Tochiro, the friendlier of the two, was half his height. He seemed to be wearing a holy brown bag. Waves of ashy-brown hair curled around his pudgy cheeks and thick glasses. His weapon was hidden in an oak staff – a fine samurai sword. The two friends would serve my team well.
Tetsuro slid warily from his stool, rightfully afraid of reprimand. Beneath a newer wide-brimmed brown hat, his hazel eyes hung toward the dusty floor. Chocolate-brown hair fell in messy layers about his childish face. He fidgeted with his white gloves and readjusted his gun belt on his blue jeans. His wine-red shirt had come untucked again. He still just wasn't used to the clothes I'd gotten him.
"Let's go to the meeting room," I nodded, turning to the offshoot room of the bar. Warrius frowned deeply at the men following at my heels. Don't change your mind, I chanted in my head, hoping to send some sort of message to him.
With him, we had a better chance. We still may have been at odds to lose, but we were at slightly higher odds with him on our side. The rumors of his feats had surely been exaggerated. I doubted he'd killed four men with one bullet or that he could land a shot from two hundred yards, but that reputation had to be built on something.
Harlock and Tochiro were widely known and held wanted posters with high bounties because they had skill. Unlike them, Warrius was a hard man to get any sort of information on, but when I found it, I'd found just what I needed.
He wouldn't run. I had the information he'd been searching for. He'd do whatever it took to get it, whether he'd admit that or not. Now I just had to keep us alive long enough for him to be allowed it.
The 'meeting room' was only sectioned off through another set of swinging doors. A mid-sized table made for playing cards sat in the middle for us all. Everyone took a seat beside who they were most comfortable among us. I found it to be interesting.
Tetsuro placed himself between Tadashi and Harlock, Tochiro on Harlock's other side. My sister took the seat between me and Tochiro. The samurai grinned at her, his cheeks reddening. Em's eyes flashed away.
Warrius was stuck between 'kind' and 'Fräulein.' Tadashi glared at the elder man, obviously upset at our new addition. "He's on our team?" the greenhorn huffed.
"I don't have to be," Warrius corrected.
"He'd make a valuable ally," I said, a warning to my voice. I had a feeling my boys weren't going to get along as well as I'd originally hoped.
"Zero." Harlock smirked.
"Harlock" Warrius returned with a glare.
Oh dear.
"Let's get something out of the way," I began sternly. " I don't care about your pasts. I don't care about your grudges or your experience or the number of bodies to your name. I asked you all to fight for this town. I can't ask you to want to protect it or to willingly lay down your life for it, but I'm asking you to fight. You all have a unique skill that I believe can contribute to us if we lay out a proper plan. I don't know what the enemy has on his mind, but I'm certain that he thinks he can just storm in and slaughter us. We're going to put together a strategy that'll stop them in their tracks."
Everyone had turned to me as the leader. Even Warrius didn't question that I'd cemented his place as one of us. They all watched me with interest, curious about how I thought we could escape with our lives.
"This is Warrius Zero," I nodded to the man at my side before pointing out each man in turn. "Warrius, that's Tadashi Daiba, Tetsuro Hoshino and Tochiro Oyama. You already know Harlock I see."
He greeted them all with a frown, not approving of my team. "They're children, Fräulein."
Tetsuro accepted it with a slight huff, Tadashi screeched in insult, and Tochiro sighed, dropping his forehead onto the table. I couldn't help but laugh. "Warrius, Tochiro is twenty-three."
He shook his head, sighing. "Still very young."
Tadashi turned to me, scowling. "Are you sure he's useful?"
"Are you sure you're useful?" Harlock chided with a flicker of smile.
They were trying my patience. I spoke up, commanding their attention. "Each of you is here for a reason. We all need the others' strengths to combat our weaknesses, whether you believe you have them or not. If what I've heard is true. Warrius is the best rifleman in the south, and Tochiro is the best swordsman. Harlock and my sister are the best sharpshooters we could have asked for. Tetsuro and Tadashi may not be that skilled with a weapon yet, but they're both quick on their feet and much sharper than you'd think." Not that they'd been proving it.
"I need you to work together," I continued. "That doesn't mean you have to like it or each other, but you can put aside your differences just long enough to do your job."
"So you really think we can win?" Harlock frowned. "No offense, but we don't have the best standing in this fight, and all those townsfolk are pretty much useless. They're all kids, women and farmers."
My eyes narrowed. I tried not to sound curt. "I didn't ask them to fight. Just you. You can leave if you'd like."
He raised his hands in mock-surrender with a grin. "I never said that. This should be pretty fun. I'd be interested to hear this plan of yours."
"They should be here in less than a week if I'm correct. I'll need your help to work out a true strategy."
"Well…" The sharpshooter hummed in thought, kicking his boots up onto the table and leaning back in his chair. "If we can figure out which way they're coming from, our best shot would be to set up an intervention point – somewhere that we can be high up while they're low down. We could pick most of them off that way, and they'd scatter."
"That's a fine plan, but I'm not sure which direction they're coming from," I sighed. "And the entire land around this area is flat as paper."
"Send out a scout then," Tochiro suggested.
"It would need to be someone that knows how to scout," Warrius advised with a nod of agreement.
We waited for someone to jump in. Tadashi glanced around and shrugged. "I could do it."
"No," Harlock and Warrius chimed.
"I could!" the blond fumed.
"Can you even ride a horse?" Harlock sneered.
"I sure as hell can! I was-!"
He was cut off by Warrius twisting his ear. "Language, kind," the gentleman hissed.
"Let go! Ow ow ow!"
Harlock barked a laugh and rattled off something in German. I frowned between Warrius and the gunslinger as they began to glare across the table. The mercenary responded, his voice low and dangerous. I was starting to wish I'd learned German instead of French.
No one else at the table could understand them, and we all watched in confusion. It was much easier to jump in and stop a fight when I had some idea as to what it was over.
Harlock's response was simple but apparently devilish. As it rolled off his tongue, Warrius released Tadashi's ear, slamming his hands down on the table and jumping to his feet. His chair clattered to the floor behind him.
"Uh, Harlock," Tochiro attempted, flinching away from the mercenary's rage. "Maybe you should stop."
"It's not my fault he can't handle the truth," the gunslinger smirked.
"That's not even close to the truth, pirate," Zero hissed. "Take it back."
"There's no way for me to even if I wanted to. I've said the truth. I can't pull the words back."
Warrius' eyes feigned calm. He began speaking his native tongue again, his words dangerous and deliberate. Harlock's eyes narrowed.
"Enough!" I cried. In the time it took me to move to my feet, they'd both grabbed their guns and aimed them directly between the other's eyes.
"It's about time we finished this," Harlock grinned.
Warrius shared no enthusiasm. "May God have mercy on your soul, pirate."
Ahh, this is too much fun to write. I'm so sorry. Harlock is an odd mix of his Gun Frontier and Cosmo Warrior Zero versions. He'll ease up in a while.
Quick note: A 'hand' is a unit of measure used on horses and equal to about 10 in/25 cm. Maetel just likes to use it on the guys.
