Eden

By: moonfinder and chronotyrant

Disclaimer: As if you didn't know, I do not own Trigun, or any of their character. I mean, sure I wish I owned Vash and Wolfwood, Legato and Knives, but alas no dice. Instead, I can make up fanfics for my own entertainment. And seeing as I like them so much, I decided to share them with the rest of the world as well. In any case, this story is based upon the rp I shared with a good friend of mine, Davis-kun. He played my Vash, and made a very good one at that. So, basically, the only character I do own is Sloane. But then, the character would have to be drastically changed if it was placed in another world, other than Trigun. I believe Sloane fits in fine and therefore I give you the story, entitled:

Eden

Chapter 1

Who the hell was that guy?!

The dunes were an unforgiving place. The two suns cast down their intense light and agonising heat, but, this didn't stop people from travelling across it. The sand shifted under the traveller's black booted feet as he climbed up one of the larger dunes. The red flaps of his coat whipped behind him as the wind picking up the sand. He pushed his yellow-tinted glasses closer to his eyes, shielding them from the harsh climate. The grains of sand were like needles against his face, the only exposed flesh.

He panted softly as he came to the top, his golden gaze passing over the horizon. His brow lifted as he saw a white town in the distance. "Is that a city? It's not a mirage is it!? Water!!", he cried joyously, despite the fact that his throat was parched. With renewed vigour, he slid down the sand dune and rushed towards the outskirts of the town.

The traveller made it in record time, anticipating a nice, comfortable bed in the hotel, a large glass of water, and perhaps some doughnuts. Alas, he was in for a surprise. The town seemed completely deserted! The voices of children didn't ring out in the streets, nor were they followed with the sterner voices of adults. No haggling went on in the market place that he slowly passed for the merchants were absent, though wares were still exposed.

Instinctively, his black gloved hand reached for the silver gun that rested at his hip. Legato... have you been here too? , he thought grudgingly. His fatigued feet slowly brought him into the middle of the town, where, to his relief, he saw a crowd gathered some distance away from the city's bank. The sheriff was negotiating with a band of thieves from the other side of the street through a megaphone. The thieves already had all the money they needed within the bank, though one problem seemed to have arisen. The safe couldn't be opened without a series of cardkeys, which the sheriff possessed.

The thieves seemed to have the upper hand none the less. The whimpering of women and children rang harshly in everyone's ears. That was their leverage, hostages, of the innocent variety. The stranger shook his spiked, blond head and rummaged through his pockets, removing a CD player. He jammed the earphones into his ear and pressed Play, and enabled the anti-skip. Soon, music filled his mind and he started to make his way towards the bank entrance, dancing to the beat.

The people, the sheriff and the gunmen at the window all watched the red garbed stranger in bewilderment. The sheriff was the first to find his voice. "Come back here, you dolt!", he cried, "Don't you know it's a hostage situation over there! You're going to get yourself killed, along with others! Come back here, please!" If the wanderer heard any word of this, he made no acknowledgment of it; he simply continued to dance. In any other situation, the man's strange dance moves might have been comical, but this was a high pressure situation, the lives of innocents were at stake, which the thieves didn't hesitate in reminding them. The gunmen at the window were a little less concerned with his welfare, but didn't want any more trouble, or heroes. They poked the barrels of their guns out the broken windows and began to shoot at him, warning him back.

The beat of the song spurred his movements, shifting his body, making the bullets a null factor as they only whizzed past him, hitting the sand before he stepped. Wisps of smoke twirled around him as he inched his way towards the front door. His eyes were shut, listening past to the music to the sound of the children, the guns of the thieves, counting each shell as they left the gun. Everything was so precise in his mind, though no one would have guessed in the way he was acting.

Needless to say the people watched on in a strange mix of anxiety and amazement. "He's either very stupid and still dancing, or he is actually purposely dodging bullet.", the sheriff muttered, removing his hat to scratch his balding scalp. The thieves weren't so keen on the entire act. The man continued to dance, that was, until the song began to skip, repeating the same syllable over and over, until it finally stopped... They aimed to kill, knowing all too well that he could jeopardise everything if he could dodge bullets.

The bullets moved closer and closer to his person. Suddenly a hard rock beat blasted into his ears and his body twisted violently to matched the angry beat. The air ripped and tore with the force of man's invention, a weapon beyond all nature with the power that shouldn't be handed down so freely, the power to take a life. The music guided his motions, every bullet missing their mark. He casually pushes the doors of the bank open and walks inside, his black boots clicking against the smooth marble floor.

His entrance was greeting with an air that was less than welcome. Six guns cocked around him. The man froze, his eyes slowly opening. His glasses slide down his nose, revealing clear emerald eyes. They widened as they noticed they were starring down a barrel of a loaded gun. A quick look around confirmed five more, all aimed at his skull. "Please don't shoot! Ahh! There're robbers in here! Somebody help me!", the stranger wailed. The thieves wasted no time. They rummaged through his pockets, pulling away his CD player, his travel bag and his gun. They looked curiously at the machine. Lost technology. They grinned; it would bring quite a sum on the market. They tossed it all over to a table at the back, the only other item being two sleek black guns. They bound him with a length of rope and threw him roughly into a corner. "Keep quiet and don't move.", ordered one of the thieves angrily. "Of course, Mr. Robber, sir. But did you have to throw me so hard. You don't have to be rough, I won't do a thing, honest.", he whimpered.

This entrance had gotten everyone's attention. The bank was split in two; the women and children to one side, and the men to the other, more heavily guarded. Though, one person looked out of place. At the back, in the shadows, sat a man looking rather bored at the ceiling. He was rather extensively bound. His wrists were tied behind his back; a length of rope was looped tightly around the man's chest, binding his arms to his sides rather uncomfortably. His ankles and knees were also tied. He sat, blue tinted glasses turned to the ceiling in a rather casual, if not depressed, manner.

He looked over at the stranger and rolled his eyes. What a complete moron, getting himself captured like that, without any resistance. He sighed and laid his raven head against the wall. His hands were becoming quite numb, the feeling crawling up his arms. He supposed there was a positive side to it all, the numbness took the edge off the pain.

The stranger, on the other hand, was noting the various builds and manners of the men around him. None of them seemed to fit the description he was looking for in a partner to escape and turn the tables around on these thieves. That was until he spotted one young dark haired man that was overly tied up in a corner. Now that seemed promising. He looked over to the guards and saw that they were all watching the windows as the negotiations resumed, turning in their favour. Quickly, while they were distracted, he started to squirm over to the unknown, yet strangely attractive, man. He rested at the man's feet a moment before lightly tapping his boots on the marble floor. Suddenly, two shimmers of light, followed by a click as a knife appeared at the front of his boot. The wanderer carefully slid forward to cut the other's bounds.

The young man cringed, his eyes squeezed shut. He's a bumbling idiot... he's going to slice me into pieces... , he thought bitterly, until feeling suddenly rushed into his ankles and then his wrists. A quirked brow appeared over the rim of his glasses. This guy was a lot better than he let on. It dawned on him then: the guy could dodge bullets, had a red coat, blond hair, an earring and a silver gun. He was being saved by Vash the Stampede.

He wiggled his fingers and his ankles, willing feeling to return to his limbs. He managed to reach his own boot and pulled out a knife. In a fluid motion, he quietly flicked it open and cut through his would-be saviour's bounds. He slowly brought his gloved finger to his pale lips and moved towards the table with the guns in a strangely eerie silence.

Vash rose to his feet and stretches out, clicking his boot once again, the knife splitting in half to rest inside the sole of his boot once more. He slid across the floor towards the table, his gaze never leaving the guards ahead of him. Suddenly he heard a shift from the left as one of the thieves pulled the trigger on his riffle. Vash ducks back and shifted into a kick, pushing table up, letting the bullets embed themselves into the wood. Flyers and papers flew everywhere, being turned into confetti by the gunfire. Vash gave the table another kick, sending it forward to collide with the three gunmen before him. He next sends a chair into another, nailing the thief in the side.

The Humanoid Typhoon rushed over and grabs his gun from the table and fires into the smoke. Yelps echoed through the bank, followed by the thumps of bodies, and the clatters of several guns. Vash stands in the center of the room, waiting for the smoke to clear.

His partner on the other hand hadn't wasted a moment. He quickly grabbed the two black guns and ran through the smoke and dust to reach the windows. He kicked out rapidly, his steel toe boot colliding with the gunman's jaw, rib and gut before sending him flying into a wall. The smoke cleared as he aimed his guns at the remaining men around them. He pulled the trigger of one, only to hear a click. He was out of ammo, at least in the gun in his left. He lashed out in a series of punches, sending the man sprawling regardless.

Vash watched curiously. Of course, his partner was a little more violent, but no one was dead, yet. His gaze travelled around as the last few thieves were in a stalemate with his friend. "Wait! There is no need for you to get hurt or die. Just lay down your weapons and give up.", he said, an icy look in his eyes. Two bullets remained in his revolver, more than enough if he had to use them. The thieves look at the merciless man before them, and the other who was giving them a way out. Slowly, they placed their guns on the floor. The young man kicked them out of reach. Slowly, he ushered them outside for the sheriff to deal with.

A sigh escaped his parted lips. It was time for him to get moving soon. The less people that saw him the better. He returned inside the bank and began to free the hostages. Vash already had his hands full with the women and children. A bright smile touched Vash's lips as he undid the ropes of the children. "It's ok, you're safe now. Those mean men will get what they deserve." Once the children were freed, he shifted his attention on the women. He seemed to change before their eyes. "I am here, there is never any need to fear, ladies.", he said in a proud deep voice, inflating his chest. His partner rolled his eyes as he finished with the men, who said small words of thanks to which he simply nod. He could hear the girls giggling softly, swooning over their saviour. Some found him charming, or funny or cute. He just thought he was stupid.

Clearly no longer needed, he placed his guns in his holster and pulled on his white coat. He spared one last glance at his partner. It had been simple working with him, but the partnership was at an end. He grabbed his bag, tossing it over once shoulder. His eyes glittered as he saw the CD player. He gave a shrug and pocketed the devise. He smirked and tipped his hat to Vash and walked out the back to avoid the crowds. He had done what he came to do, the criminals were behind bars, and the innocents saved. He was sure there was some kind of rewards for capturing those bandits, but the city needed more than him. Besides, let the guy in red take it, the young man had no need for their money, being well off on his own.

His blue glasses turned to the horizon. It would be a long journey ahead. The dunes were a generally unfriendly place. Still, he started off at a rather slow pace, in no hurry. He was thankful the suns were setting, leaving the air somewhat cooler. He lowered his head to the glare ahead and walked out of the town borders.