The Guilty Gear Series is property of Hideyuki Abe, Daisuke Ishiwatari, and Sammy Corporation. Other Major Characters in the story are property of author "Person with many aliases"
Plea of Mercy: If I screw this up, please don't get all angry with me, I did my research of the series through a boatload movies I downloaded and the Internet. Yes, I never played the game, so sue me. So if the characters are a bit OOC, just tell me.
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He was tired of it all, the abominable waiting, the useless hoping, and that constant irritation of telling himself "perhaps today". He should have just done this earlier. The man then sagged downwards farther into his plush chair from the self-inflicted pessimism.
The room was covered in shadows, produced by the fireplace deep in one wall, as it was the only source of lighting, yet it still gave off a cozy atmosphere. Unfortunately it was all lost on the man. Positioned on a table along side him was a small radio that was quietly playing Iron Maiden. Along with a few other bits and pieces, this made up the all of the legal property of the man. One of the illegal devices owned by the man was held in his hand, which was dangling lifelessly over the armrest of the chair he has been seated in. Finally raising the arm in a rather stiff, zombie like motion, the fireplace reflects the metal of the device so that it is finally visible.
Handgun.
After a seemingly eternity for the man, the gun is in position with its giving end positioned in front of the man's right temple. The flames reflected of the man's cold brown eyes while he waits for his finger to seal his fate.
It doesn't come. Once again foul luck strikes, as the man is apparently not the suicidal type. He now waits patiently for a suitable excuse for not to pull the trigger. The radio answers the man's call with an important announcement.
"…This Gear is functioning properly, even though its activities should be inhibited by its lack of leadership. There are no signs of abnormalities or physical damage. It is also noted that no civilians have been harmed, either intentionally or accidentally. We have made several attempts to eliminate the Gear, but due to its tremendous combat capabilities, we have been unsuccessful. The number of casualties has yet to be confirmed. We are currently keeping the Gear under surveillance…" States a monotonous voice, over the radio. For the man, he only picks out the words of the speech that is important only to him.
Gear.
Functioning properly.
Eliminate.
Tremendous combat capabilities.
Unsuccessful.
Number of casualties.
Under Surveillance.
The flames of the fireplace now reflect of eyes that are now alive. Eyes that reveal a man that is thinking again, formulating. He lowers the weapon.
There is a gear that is very powerful, that is on the run, and people know of its whereabouts. Good Thus thinks the man, who now grunts and pushes himself out of the chair.
"Perhaps today…"
Forgetting his original plans for the day, he moves around the room with great energy, unlike before. He opens a drawer visible in the dark, only to him. He counts the number of small metal bars in the drawer along with the one inside the handgun he is holding.
Four clips, good enough.
He gathers the Handgun, the matching clips, medical supplies, and some other things that the man deems useful for his little outing, and gathers them in a sack. He dons a cape over his shoulders and fixes a strange hat over his head. Hoisting his traveling companion over his shoulder he now climbs up a ladder that has been previously hidden in the darkness. Opening the hatch that ends at the top of the ladder, the man slips out of the room and drops the hatch, which sounds off an un-ceremonious 'clang'. He leaves the fireplace to its own matters.
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It was a little while later that the man was to be found inside a bounty office. For the man knew that if the news of the gear was public, then those loser bounty hunters- those people always talked big, then ran away like spineless pussies in front of gears, or dragons- would be knowing the same stuff the IPF did too, and it was easier to check up bounty lists rather than ask the IPF. Everybody nowadays knew that.
In the light of the sun we see that he is dressed in completely green attire, from the boots to the cape to the hat. The hat itself in fact rather looks like something the stereotypical spell caster or wizard would wear, bent at a backwards angle and clearly showing the signs of age and being worn often. A bit of brunette hair can also be seen poking out from under the hat at some point or the other. It is also in the outside world that he has a name too, Jeremy Colt. Sure, it was an old fashioned name compared to the names of today, but Jeremy was always an old fashioned guy.
Old fashioned in too many ways, at that Jeremy quietly mused at his own personal sick joke, while a small smirk unconsciously appeared on his mouth.
Snapping back to reality, he looked over the bounty poster regarding the 'Second Justice' as everyone had taken to naming it. Vague physical description, crap. Little solid facts on the gear, more crap. In fact the only useful thing on this paper was the last reported definite sighting of the gear, which was somewhere in France. Jeremy gave quick mental note on that little tidbit.
In the meanwhile he was overhearing the local gossip from the newbie bounty hunters. From what Jeremy heard, the new gear ran from armed conflict rather than fight.
A peaceful gear? That's new, Jeremy scoffed quietly to himself, once again lost in his own little world I suppose 'Second Justice' isn't very fitting for our little Gandhi-gear...
It was then that Jeremy was tossed out of his thoughts a little too violently, when some random man suddenly backed into him. The sounds of mayhem were also in the air. Soon enough the crowd separates into two groups: the spectators on the outside (of which Colt was a part of) and the five people in the middle. One was a woman, and the four others were men who were, frankly, having the living crap kicked out of them. What made this more humorous was not only the four men Jeremy guessed to be bounty hunters being pounded by a woman, but a one-armed woman at that. Well, she had one eye too, but Jeremy had already seen people fight with one eye only, but with one ARM, no that was new. Had this entire event been portrayed on a television, Jeremy would have been laughing his head off, instead he just looked impressed. After the short and extremely one-sided scuffle ended, with the four men beaten on the floor, most everybody then took a step back from the woman. A death glare and her hand at ready by her blade then made everybody back away another step. Jeremy, from among the crowd then took a second, more thorough examination on the woman. Interestingly enough for Colt, the woman is Japanese.
Figures, I always knew that the Japanese would be the world renowned 'natural ass-kickers', probably the reason why the gears burned their country... snapping back out of his thoughts for the third time of the day, he saw the Japanese woman gone, and some other Japanese guy leaving the office, well, more like prance out...weird. Looking around the crowd again, Colt frowned: everybody still had the 'OMG' look on their faces from the Japanese thing a few seconds before.
For God's sake, you're all bounty hunters, you see all this crap all the time Colt mentally scolded the people around him, then left like he should have, before the whole Japanese thing started. Once outside the building, Jeremy gave a quick once-over of the town he was in before he looked into his map he bought a while back. He was right now at the outskirts of France, which meant that he would have to travel further into the country to get to the place that the Gandhi-gear was last seen. Well, no better time to go than now.
Jeremy started walking again.