Guilty Gear, its characters and settings are property of Sammy Studios, and are being used in this fanfiction without permission. This fic is rated R for violence and sexual content, and it contains yaoi material.

OMG throw in some more characters right now AHHHHH!

Thunder Falling

Chapter 11

"'Paris authorities still have no leads as to the whereabouts of the criminals,'" Axl read aloud as he walked. In one hand he was holding up the morning paper, in the other a mug of fresh coffee, and was doing his best to keep both balanced. "'However, they would like to assure residents that it is very likely they have already left the city, and there is no need for concern as to…' Heh. Hear that? We've already left."

Axl stepped through the doorway at the hall's end, chuckling to himself. He had to admit, despite being one crazy bastard that Dr. Faust sure knew what he was doing. Even his secret passages had secret passages. Just after hearing of the raid on the Police Headquarters, he had hidden Venom and Axl in the deepest of his many chambers. And just in time—with the police out in the streets at full force many unsavory guests showed up seeking refuge, none of which would be glad to hear the head of the former Assassin's Guild himself was among them. Faust took them in graciously. It may not have said much for his morals, but it spoke volumes of his charity.

Venom glanced up. Though his color had greatly improved, Axl was still surprised to find him on his feet, calmly buttoning up a pale blue shirt. "Hey…are you all right?" Axl asked with some concern as he set the paper aside. "Should you really be up?"

"It's been three days," Venom replied simply, running his hand over the gifted shirt. It was too large for him—he'd had to depend on Faust's wardrobe for it—but anything might have been better compared to the hospital gown. "I'm not fully healed but I can't stay put any longer."

Axl frowned. Though he had noticed how restless Venom had been lately, he wasn't looking forward to what came next: his decision. For three days he had lain hidden beneath Paris's streets with Venom, Faust, and his patients—even helped out when he could, in exchange for having a place to stay. He often wondered if that fact alone likened him to the rest. He knew that Kiske would likely skewer him if they met up again, but so far he hadn't done anything…terribly wrong, other than keep his mouth shut. But now, Venom was leaving.

"So…" Axl took a sip from his coffee, stalling. "Where'ya going?"

Venom looked over the tie Faust had left him, and after a moment's consideration tugged it around his neck. "I'm not sure. Out of Paris, for now. After that…."

"It won't be easy leaving the city. The paper says they've put up roadblocks and checkpoints and—"

"I'll find a way."

"Oh." Axl's frown deepened as he sat himself down in an old wooden chair by the wall. "Yeah…"

Venom glanced at him, one bright blue eye just barely visible through his long, pale hair. "Are you still thinking about it?" he asked plainly. "About what you told me before—that we met for a reason. You haven't figure out yet if that's true or not."

Axl smiled sheepishly. "Well, not really," he confessed, pausing for another long sip. "I mean, it's probably nothing. I time slip all the time. And even if there was a reason, maybe I fulfilled it already. I saved your life, after all."

Venom smoothed the wrinkles from his shirt, his fingers pausing briefly where the baggy material hid his bandages. "I'll find a way to repay you for that," he murmured.

"Yeah?" Axl leaned back with a grin. "And here I thought you were gonna hold it against me."

The lines around Venom's mouth twitched, making Axl wonder, for a moment, if he might have actually seen the man smile. "I still might."

Axl rolled his eyes in good humor, but before he could comment Venom took a step closer, watching him closely. "If Kiske and his officers spot you, you'll be arrested," he told him seriously. "And if he thinks you have anything to do with me, his interrogation will be severe. That's the kind of man Kiske is."

Axl made a face. "That's kind of funny, coming from a hired hit man," he teased.

Venom snorted lightly. "You need to leave this city just as much as I do," he continued. "But you don't know it as well, do you? Not enough to get through police blockades without being seen."

"Are you saying," Axl asked slowly, "that I should come with you?"

Venom leaned back, appearing oddly guilty as if Axl had caught him in some secret. "For both our sakes. You need a safe path out of Paris, and…I'm still not completely healed."

"Ahh, so you need me."

"I didn't say that."

Axl smirked. He wasn't sure why, but he was starting to think that maybe Venom really wasn't such a bad guy. Whatever his profession. "Well, putting it that way, it does make sense." He stood, and gave Venom's hand an enthusiastic shake. "Looks like you're stuck with me a while longer, chap. Don't regret it!"

Venom stared down at their clasped hands, and after a moment returned Axl's friendly squeeze. "Welcome to being a criminal accomplice, Mr. Low," he replied before turning away to look for a hair brush.

"Accomplice…?" Axl sighed. It seemed he'd gotten himself in pretty deep this time. "Whatever you say…"

This time, it was cheap Chinese food.

Despite his many travels, Sol had not been to this part of the world for several years or even decades. He was never very adept at keeping track. However long it had been, this particular "best food in the city" restaurant had not existed back then. He would have remembered a place built in the hollowed out husk of a dragon. Dragons were tricky creatures; you couldn't really kill one like a normal animal, and they didn't exactly decay, either. As one of the patrons had explained it to him, this particular dragon had a habit of coming back to life every few weeks. It made for quite a spectacle when the owner had to kill it again.

It didn't seem that Sol was going to have the pleasure of witnessing that event this time, which was fine with him. He was perfectly content eating his spicy beef without incident. And it was good beef, too; though he had grown sick of people insisting to him that it was the best diner in China, he had to admit they might not have been wrong. He was already planning on ordering seconds.

There were times when even Sol thought about the past, things so far back in his memory he could barely recall in so different a world. Every once in a while some half-recalled sensation at the back of his brain would stir, driving him to seek out an icon of nostalgic indulgence. This time, it had been cheap Chinese food. Vaguely Sol remembered the musty smell of an old apartment, the gentle scraping wooden chopsticks against a paper carton, the taste of overcooked rice and too much MSG. People didn't make food like that anymore, and his meal now was nothing like the soggy, $3.99 half servings of his youth. The beef was just too damn good.

Sol's idle musing was interrupted by the shrill laughter of a woman several tables away. It was the restaurant's owner, Kuradoberi Jam. Though normally an owner wouldn't be out waiting tables in such a way, in this case it was a clever business decision—the young woman was gaining as much attention from her customers as her world-renowned food. The outfit did wonders for her body, all smooth red silk with shimmering gold trim. The style was reminiscent of a traditional Chinese formal dress, though the skirt was cut up nearly to her butt, and the chest area was cut with slits to reveal her rather impressive cleavage.

It was the tone of her body that drew Sol's attention more than anything. Despite her slim build her thighs and calves were well muscled, like those of an athlete. Her shoulders, too, didn't have the delicate slope of the local young woman her age. She was strong, and she carried herself with precise, light-footed balance.

Sol was beginning to wonder if he'd met her somewhere before when she leaned forward to collect the men's plates. Red silk climbed tauntingly up the backs of her thighs. Had she bent a few degrees more, Sol was sure he would have been seeing goods. His thoughts then shifted to whether or not he could get her into bed without her opening her mouth.

Jam carried her load of dishes off to the kitchen, not noticing Sol's eyes on her. Once she was out of sight he glanced away, and with his senses returned he was able to make out the sound of an airship flying overhead.

Johnny was still adjusting his coat over his shoulders as he stepped briskly onto Mayship's bridge, a few of the younger crewmates following along behind. He had been engaged in his usual afternoon practice above the ship when a spot on the horizon caught his eye, cutting the exercise short. "What is it?" he asked as he came up behind May. She was standing next to April at the helm, both girls staring fixedly ahead through the viewing glass. "Some kind of merchant ship?"

"Looks like it," May replied, arms folded, for a moment looking genuinely captainly. "Kinda puny, though."

"Its heading is due west," reported one of the bridge hands. "At that size it's got to be local—Korean, maybe?"

"Yeah, maybe." May gave an exaggerated sigh. "Local ships never carry good cargo. Probably not even worth it to board them."

Johnny shrugged behind her. "If it's another salvage ship, they might have some valuable artifacts. They could have stored them on a smaller ship to throw off…us."

"Maybe, but we're going to need to land soon to refuel—don't wanna cause too much trouble before then, or—"

"Captain!" Feby leaned over her station, pointing through the window. "Something's approaching the ship!"

"What?" May held out her hand, and was obediently given April's telescope. Something small and dark was flying straight up from the city, a vertical smear against blue sky as it rocketed toward the small merchant ship. "What is that? It doesn't look like a missile…."

Johnny took off his shades so he could squint through the glass. It wasn't a missile—magic or otherwise, as far as he could tell. But it was moving awfully fast to be anything else. The crew watched, puzzled and silent, until whatever it had been struck the bottom of the airship hull with a spectacular impact. There was no explosion, no fire, but as they stared the Korean ship began to waver in its flight, and slowly began to dip to port.

"Whatever it is, it's bringing that ship down," Johnny muttered gravely. "Right on top of Beijing."

"April, adjust course to intercept," May instructed suddenly, jostling her crew back to life. She pushed her telescope into Johnny's stomach, and he instinctually accepted. "Get word to Novere to drop the tow lines."

April turned the ship as asked. "A rescue mission, eh Captain?"

"Rescue?" May scoffed. She grinned as she folded her arms once more. "Sure, we'll help'm down safely. And then I'll accept all the thanks they have to offer."

The girls cheered their enthusiastic approval and scurried about to do their part of the new mission. Johnny, meanwhile, was studying the hull of the merchant ship with May's telescope. There were jagged tears in the metal exterior from whatever had attacked them, unlike any anti-aircraft armament he'd ever seen. As he continued to watch, something crawled out of the metal craters and began to climb onto the wing.

"July, I want you heading the boarding team," May was saying, adjusting her great orange hat. "Take Augst with—"

"No," Johnny quickly interrupted. He set the telescope aside and replaced his glasses. "May, leave this to me. There's something not right about this."

May glanced up, and the serious tone in his voice made her think twice about complaining too seriously. "They won't stay airborne for long with that hole in them."

"Don't worry—I'll take care of it." Johnny turned, striding quickly from the bridge. "Just keep her steady, April!"

"Aye, sir!"

Johnny could feel May's eyes on him as he left, but he didn't pause or glance back. He trusted his instincts, and what he felt now was telling him he didn't want any of his girls on that ship. There were only so many living things that could shoot several hundred feet straight up into the sky.

He turned a corner, and nearly ran straight into Dizzy. She jumped, her wings giving an anxious flutter. "Johnny! What's going on? I thought I heard a crash."

"Dizzy, good. I might need your help." Johnny took her gently by the arm, guiding her down the hall with him. "It looks like a Koran merchant ship is under attack, and we're going to give them a hand. I need you to help me connect the tow lines."

"Johnny, I've never helped board a ship before," Dizzy replied nervously.

"I know. Don't worry, you'll do fine." They came to the belly of the ship where Novere was already waiting for them, crouched in front of the mechanical controls for Mayship's wire tow lines. "It's just us," Johnny told her. "Keep an eye on us, okay?"

Novere frowned, but nodded. "Aye, sir."

Johnny twisted the hatch open, and Dizzy gave a gasp of surprise as harsh, cool air whipped into the cabin and sent her hair fluttering. She quickly tightened her ribbons as Johnny secured the metal door. Slowly, the top of the unknown ship came into their small, circular view. The gash Johnny had witnessed from the bridge had lengthened along the left side of the airship's hull, but the engines were still running evenly. At the moment he could see no trace of whatever might have caused the clean edges of torn steel.

"Just a little more!" one of Novere's helpers alerted the bridge crew through the wall-mounted radio. "A little more…all right! We're on'em!"

Johnny set a hand on his hat to keep it still as he peered through the open hatch. Still no sign of any real trouble, but there was still that uneasy hollow in his stomach, a prickle along his spine that had never been wrong before. He straightened so he could face Dizzy directly.

"I need you to connect the tow lines," he told her seriously. "You'll see four come down from Mayship, each with metal docking clamps. This is a UN approved airship, so it should have thick handles along the hull—attach the clamps to those. Got it?"

Dizzy listened with wide eyes. "Y-Yes! You can count on me, Johnny."

Johnny's lips quirked in a grin. "That's my girl. Leave everything else to me."

Before Dizzy could ask what else there might have been, Johnny leapt through the circular opening. He had done this a hundred times before, and he landed easily on the hull of the failing ship. The scored soles of his shoes helped to keep him from sliding along the polished metal surface. Dizzy's landing was not quite as graceful; her wings fluttered nervously as she dropped towards him, catching the wind and nearly getting her thrown from the ship. Johnny was quick to grab her hand and draw her in.

"Keep those folded," he advised, giving her a smile in hopes of calming her.

Dizzy smiled, though she was still clearly nervous—her tail was twisting in little circles behind her. "I'm all right."

"Good." Johnny looked up, and when he heard the metal docking clamps clang against the ship's hull, he signaled to Novere that enough wire had been lowered. He pointed them out to Dizzy. "Go ahead—you'll do fine."

Dizzy nodded, assuring herself as much as Johnny, and he let her go so she could start her task. He watched, making sure she was able to move easily enough across the ship. She was careful this time to keep her wings tightly pressed against her back. Relieved, Johnny crouched down to investigate the ship's unusual injury.

Magic had been involved. Johnny had never experienced training in that particular discipline but it was clear no normal living creature or weapon could have cut so cleanly through the thick layers of metal alloy. There was even a strange aura about the opening, if he were truly capable of detecting such things. The sheered edges were cool to the touch.

He had been expecting an attack, but when it came it was not from the already existing holes to the cabin. The metal beneath him was suddenly shredded, ripped apart like so much crude paper. He rolled but there hadn't been enough warning, and he grimaced as something cold and sharp cut gashes along the back of his thigh. His coat flapped about him madly, deafening him, and then he was on his feet again.

"Johnny!" Dizzy stepped away from the cable she'd been fastening, toward him.

"Stay back!" Johnny called, shifting his weight off his injured leg. It felt as if the wind was clawing into the wounds, flinging his blood out into open air. He couldn't tell how serious it was with the whole limb throbbing with every beat of his heart. But he could feel the leg of his trousers slowly becoming soaked, and a quick test showed him he wouldn't be able to bend his knee very well. He cursed.

Sticking out of the ship's hull was the afflicting weapon: a broad hand tipped with long, dark talons. Johnny drew his sword from the sheath at his back as the creature began to claw its way free. Its sharpened nails made easy work of the steel, peeling it back like the lid of a can. Gradually Johnny was granted more views of long, pale violet limbs with thick musculature, and finally a head of long, silvery hair.

"Johnny…."

"Keep attaching the cables!" he told Dizzy firmly. "Don't worry about me!"

The creature laughed, a low, unnatural sound that somehow projected clearly over the wind. With a hop the entity pulled itself out of the cabin fully, exposing its entire form to the baffled pirates.

Johnny had seen his share of Gears, but nothing like this; he stood at least seven feet tall, all long limbs and toned muscle wrapped in what could have either been leather-like violet fabric, or else merely layers of skin meant to look the part. There were wraps around his wrists and spikes protruding from his arms, shoulders, and an especially thick pike seemed to have been thrust through his skull and out his forehead. His hair stretched out his full height behind him, carried by the wind.

Johnny whistled. "What a unique little snowflake we have here."

Raven smirked, for the moment making no move against him. "My my, the Jellyfish Pirates. I hadn't expected this."

"We're full of surprises," Johnny replied, adjusting his grip on his katana. His gaze flickered to the other side of the ship, where Dizzy had finished with the second clamp. But in order to get to the final two she would have to pass the…whatever it was he was staring down now. "I wouldn't recommend making my captain angry."

"Your captain?" Raven grinned, showing off pointed fangs. "Ahh, May-chan. How is the little firestarter?"

Johnny paled. "What did you just say?"

The creature attacked without warning, crossing the distance between him and Johnny in a matter of seconds. The sharpened claws that had torn his thigh came rushing forward in a blur that he managed to fend off with a swing of his katana. As Raven bore down on him he was forced to step back. Even the small step, the shift of weight, caused his leg to burn as he fought to keep his balance. His blade cut a deep incision across Raven's palm when he reached for him again but that didn't stop the creature; he was being driven toward the end of the ship.

"What are you?" Johnny braced himself, and when Raven lunged again he dodged to the side and rolled. From there he stayed on one knee, sword sheathed and ready for when the next attack came. "Why are you here—how do you know May?" he demanded.

"I told you—I didn't expect to find competition here." Raven tapped his foot against the ship, then started forward again. "I came for them. But if I can take both your ships down while I'm here, I won't complain."

"You'll have to get through me, first," Johnny threatened, glaring at the creature from under the brim of his hat. "I won't make it easy for you, Gear."

"Gear?" Raven laughed again, harder than before. "You have no idea what you're dealing with."

He took another step closer, and Johnny sprung at him. Forcing all his strength into his uninjured right leg he propelled himself up off his knee, his katana leaping from its sheath faster than even he could have followed with his naked eye. The blade caught in the soft tissue of Raven's unguarded side. Johnny dropped his sheath to add a second hand to the back of the sword, forcing it up through Raven's insides, just below the curve of his ribs. He didn't stop until he felt the sword catch between Raven's spine and sternum; no amount of force could sever his bone. Hot, black blood flowed back over his fingers.

It was the commotion on the street that finally drove Sol outside, joining several other customers and the restaurant's curious owner. It was two airships now, flying piggyback high over the city. When he squinted against the sun he was able to make out an insignia on the larger ship that was all too familiar.

"Damn pirates," Jam muttered next to him. He had to strain a little to understand her through her accent—he hadn't been in China for a long time, and his language skills were rusty. "That ship is half their size! Can't be anything worth stealing on the poor thing."

Sol snorted. He didn't really care either way, but watching the pair of ships he suddenly couldn't shake an odd premonition. "They're losing altitude," he observed. "That's strange. The Jellyfish should have gutted it by now."

"They're coming down? Great." Jam whistled, and Sol winced at how close it was to his ear. One of her workers came trotting up only to get her serving tray shoved into his stomach. "Take care of the customers," she instructed. "I'm goin' after them."

Sol glared at her doubtfully. "They're in the air," he reminded, indicating with his finger.

"You just said they were comin' down, din't ya?" Jam retorted, already beginning to stretch. When she noticed Sol watching her preparations with a little too much interest she made a face at him and snapped upright. "Go back inside and pay for your beef, stranger. But the last time we had strange folk in this town, I nearly lost my restaurant! No more robots, pirates, or whatever the hell else!"

Jam stuck out her tongue at him, and then turned to start running in the direction the pair of ships was slowly descending towards. Sol rolled his eyes. He really didn't need this kind of drama, just when he was starting to feel better. But he couldn't help that uneasy feeling in his stomach, and he had to admit, anyone who could serve food that good didn't deserve to get ripped to ribbons by whatever the hell was taking those ships down.

"Minding my own business," Sol muttered as he started after her. "Always when I'm minding my own goddamn business…."