"Gunslinger Girl" Series property of Aida Yu
"Noir" Series property of Bee Train
Original Characters property of Author "Person With Many Aliases"
Indiscrete References are to their likewise respective properties.
A/N: The amazing extra chapter… Mental slumpage, this is all I can afford my brain to get to doing. I NEED TO WORK ON NARUTO, NYYEARGH!
When he awoke, he found himself suspended in illuminated liquid, a glass wall separating him from the world, a tube of oxygen keeping him alive.
Where am I? Let me out! I want my mom!
Men in white coats and military emblems gawked at him patronizingly from the other side of the looking glass.
"As you know gentlemen, we have been keeping track of various ways to improve combat efficiency in today's modern soldier. As of now we have concluded that manipulating the power of those gifted in psychokinetic talents will result in the best results. Introducing certain artificial elements into the subject's bloodstream will result in psychokinetic alteration when the brain is completely enmeshed with the chemicals. The subject you are presented with is the youngest we have acquired that shows great psychokinetic potential, which means when he comes of mental maturation, his ability should exponentially multiply in relation. We were originally planning on using our finished products on the armies of the Nazi German empire, but since the end of the war is projected to end very soon… I'm sure finished products can be used for peacekeeping duties or such. Stand back, we are about to begin the enhancement process-"
Enhancement process? What! Let me out! I don't want this! I want my mom! LET ME OUT!
Mechanical arms entered the waters, tipped with syringes piled with black sludge.
They stabbed everywhere, every artery, and every bit of exposed skin, the needles stabbed into him, covering his naked body in stainless steel.
There were only sounds of muffled screams.
STOP IT! STOP! IT HURTS! I WANT MY MOM! STOP! STOP!
Two needles angled in front of his eyes.
NO! NO! STOP!
They plunged through jelly, injecting the sludge into the nerves behind.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHMYHEADHURTS.
MY HEAD HURTS.
Man cannot serve both God and Money…
Person With Many Aliases Presents:
"To Serve"
A Gunslinger Girl/Noir Fanfiction
The sun rose in Paris, and light came through a fair sized artist studio and upon two figures in the same bed, their weapons naked and ready at each other's sleeping body.
The larger of the two rose up first, yawning indiscreetly, and running a worn hand through brown hair that was slicked back into spikes. Notably, his face (and most likely the majority of his body) was quite heavily gauzed.
He reached for a bottle of aspirin beside the table and downed the entire container down his throat, beginning his morning ritual.
Another damned day like this. Jeremy Colt groaned. He wasn't usually the type to sit still and rot in holes. Naturally when his physical condition and current situation forced him to do the exactly that –trapped as a paraplegic and hide in his Paris safe house for weeks while those suits were out to kill him and the girl- he wasn't the happiest of campers.
"Oi, Chloe. Get your ass up."
The slimmer form beside the man groaned and mumbled something incoherently, but for the most part stayed blissfully asleep like a child.
Colt swore under his breath. He didn't dare touch the girl like this. She was one of those types that had those trained subconscious reactions to break your arm in self-defense. Still, that didn't mean he couldn't…
The older killer pulled out Single Action Army he was holding out from under the sheets, pointed it at nowhere in particular and cocked the hammer.
The loud sound of the clicking metal had the bandaged redhead burst out of her sleep, a small dagger in her hand, ready to throw into the man's smirking face.
"Yeah, like I said, good morning." Colt chuckled in his seated position, while de-cocking his weapon. With that, Chloe also fell onto her side, clutching the sore and still healing hole in her lung that she unexpectedly wrenched in her survival maneuvers.
"Honestly, girl… so sprung up and freaking out over every little thing. I can tell that you're going to die because you were being emotional and you made a stupid mistake." Crazy Horse mocked, sliding out of the bed by his hands, and dragging himself into a wheelchair he procured recently.
"Silence… you have no right to judge me… you insult to assassins…" Chloe hissed as she pushed her face from the bed to glare at the man wheeling away, his lower body inoperative. Even with the few weeks they spent together, it would be a while before their injured bodies would be a far cry to their condition before their last fight.
"Sure, sure. As soon as you're done writhing around on the bed like a bitch on period, find me in the kitchen."
Chloe usually ate for the two of them. Colt usually couldn't hold anything down beyond copious amounts of alcohol, aspirin, and a few bites. Pushing their plates to the side, Colt began, his hands folded on the table in mock business.
"On today's agenda: finally getting around to finding and killing the bastards who want to kill us."
"They were sent by Soldats."
"What makes you think that?" Colt taunted as he reached for another bottle of headache curatives.
"This has happened before. My master and I are from Soldats."
"Wow. I'm almost convinced by that bullshit, since you happen to utter the same name of my current employers. What did you do, piss off the men in charge one time too many?"
"I am True Noir. This is merely another test for me, sent by Altena." Chloe proudly said, like she was a 3rd grader announcing she made it into the Honor Role.
"As opposed to what? The assassins Noir here in Paris? Don't delude yourself. You're just a knife-wielding toy at this point."
In a moment, Chloe had reverted back into a fierce killer (and zealot, Colt realized), hissing. "You be quiet! You have no idea what Noir is about! What do you know about Soldats, or anything for that matter? You just kill for money!"
"I kill for money, because I feed myself." Colt sneered back, unaffected, "What about you? You just kill because your precious Altena tells you to. You're disposable."
"That's what Noir truly is! Soldat's weapon. The shining sword refined by Altena-"
Colt's tone became frozen, "Don't glorify weapons. They may shine and sparkle for all their worth, but in the end, they'll just get used up and thrown away. That's why I'm better than you. I'm fine by myself; I don't need to delude myself into needing anything. Once you do, you become a tool."
"And are you happy without any purpose except to serve money, all alone? Perhaps I'm a tool, but I have one thing you can't buy. Happiness. Altena gives me happiness. Seeing my friends gives me happiness. Does money make you happy?"
"Happiness is just a feeling. Money is what's real. Everything is for money. That's the only thing that matters to Man. Soldats, science, world war, or world peace. It's only for money."
There was silence from the opposite sides of the spectrums. Zealots and Atheists usually made light of each other, with nothing between.
Colt breathed in through the nose deeply, and took another bottle of aspirin, and was facing Chloe with an arrogant tone again. "Never the less, we need to eliminate whoever's in charge of the suits. If it's Soldats, I'll just kill them."
"Soldats can't be killed. The best you can do is to eliminate whoever directly ordered the assault. The higher ups in Soldats usually hand out orders and then forget about them. That's how they cover their tracks."
"Hmph. If that's what will get them to leave us alone, that's what I'll be fine with. Since they're looking for us, I'll send out a rumor and make a trap."
666-Lives is sailing through a Storm. Pirates Unknown. Can anyone hand over a Treasure Map? Can pay in Silver.
-666-Lives
Plea heard. Where can you make port?
-Faust Inc.
Port can be made at PRIHIOSERABBLQUETLECIAENT. Possible to convene?
-666-Lives
Can convene at 12820062400.
-Faust Inc.
"I believe you spelled "Library" in French wrong."
"Shut up."
Colt leafed through a few pages of Don Quixote before sliding it back into the shelf and wheeling himself towards Chloe, who stood silent while taking in the strength of the quiet in the giant archives.
"So, what do you think Chloe? There's enough shelves in the place to break up the enemies, making it manageable for the two of us, even you can't hardly use one side of your body, and I can't climb stairs or shoot and move at the same time." Called out haughtily, enjoying the silence before the storm.
The library was a giant chamber, with large balconies built into the sides to hold more shelves. The placement of the shelves began with circles that made up the center of the maze, before breaking up into rows. If someone could take control of the upper floors, it would be a perfect site for a slaughter.
Colt was dressed in a wide-brimmed fedora tilted to a side, along with a shorter black jacket that his usual long coats since the last thing he needed was his jacket to snag on the wheels in a middle of a firefight. It still made his lower body feel naked.
When he first fought Chloe, she was wearing (very suitably) a tight dark body suit, her limbs reinforced by metal graces lined with blades, covered completely by a green cloak. The worn cloak was still there, but most everything else had gone, either by bullets or emergency surgery. She was borrowing a white blouse and slacks that were both far too large for her, even with all the excess fabric tied down by numerous belts and blade-holstered straps.
(Colt had joked how most women wearing men's clothing after sleeping over should comment how it "smells of him". She only got that she was supposed to be insulted. Consequentially, the sustained injuries were far more than it was supposed to.)
"Chloe?"
"Hmmm? Yes. This place is suitable for lower number to hold the advantage."
"You're going to have to be the one who locks the door behind them. I've got to hold the upper floors, since I'm the one who uses guns."
"You are sure they're going to come."
"Of course. Help comes out of the blue? Like I say, everything's just to jump in for the kill and make a profit. There's no such thing as real friends in this business. Of course, you're too stupid to realize that."
"Then why did you help me?"
"Because I couldn't walk out of there on my own, and you were too injured to treat it on your own. See? It's all for your own profit. Not because you felt out of your goodness of your heart to befriend to stupid, money loving killer."
"And now? What about now? Why haven't we killed each other yet?"
"Because we still can't fight them alone, you stupid girl! Believe me, this hasn't changed anything! When this is all over, I'll put a bullet in your brain and go about my way!"
"I'd like to see you try, you cripple."
"You'd be surprised what I can do."
There was silence for a while, as they sat away from each other, while waiting for midnight to come. The few noises only consisted of the popping of an opening and closing aspirin bottle. Chloe eventually spoke up.
"Jeremy?"
"Hmmm?"
"What made you want to go into killing?"
"…Where I'm from, going into the underworld was the safest place to be. I worked from the bottom, and made my way to the top. Simple as that."
"Did you ever want a normal life?"
"Sometimes. But it's too dangerous to go back now. I've got to keep this up." Colt spun his wheelchair around to turn and look at Chloe. "Why?"
"Oh. I just wanted to know. It's not very often I talk to other people of my profession."
"And what about you? Altena brainwash you or something?"
"No. Altena never had anything to do with it. I realized what I wanted to be when I was with my best friend."
"Oh?"
"She was ten then… she killed a family of traitors." Chloe sighed as she wistfully remembered, "It was just so beautiful… so perfect… she always did everything perfectly… and when she continued to kill, I knew I had to follow her. I had to protect her the best I could…"
"A knight for a princess?" Colt noted in a barking laugh. She didn't notice, lost in her memories.
"Now she isn't here anymore… it hurts so bad now… but Altena says she'll be back soon. I have to keep waiting…"
There were sounds of multiple vehicles coming to a stop outside the library. The two assassins turned their heads to the noise, before Colt jerked his head to Chloe, silently demanding her check. Even with her injuries, scaling the top of one of the shelves and bounding her way to one of the normally inaccessible ledge-lined windows was no trouble for her.
"Well?"
"There are at least four vans outside. Men with suits are coming out, and they're all carrying handguns or machine pistols. You were right this time, Colt."
"Of course!"
Chloe continued to spy, "They're trying to surround the buildings on all sides. A man in a blue suit and blonde hair is ordering them."
"Got it. I'll be upstairs. I trust you're a big enough girl to take care of yourself…" Colt said as he casually wheeled himself towards the service lift in the corner of the library.
As the power was cut, several men in suits barged through, armed with NVGs along with their guns. The Blue Suit in the lead swung out his arms.
"Spread out and find them!"
Silently moving around the paper and wood divisions, the men scanned the area, and were quick to find the silhouette of a cloaked figure darting past them, deeper into the library. Even though they opened fire, they could never catch the person. Deeper and deeper they chased, until quite suddenly, the found everybody else except the shadowy figure within the encircled center of the library, built with lounge seats and covered in moonlight.
"Where did she go?"
The Blue Suit felt something was off.
Up above, on the balcony, Colt dropped a 7.62mm GPMG onto the railing, belt already fed in. GPMG meant "General Purpose Machine Gun". It was more than enough for the likes of them.
Colt squinted through the sight.
I don't need NVGs to see you guys…
Within moments, everything in the center of the library disintegrated into little pieces of wood, paper shreds, plastic, cotton, blood, and flesh.
As men tried to regroup outside the circle of death, trying to find the source of the lead sword of death that was cleaving through the library, they were quickly hunted down from above, as a giant shadowy form flew above them, planting knives up to the hilt into their necks and chests.
In short, it was nothing short of a massacre.
They silently moved through the dark streets of Paris, Chloe quietly wheeling Colt from behind.
"Chloe. Leave Soldats and Altena."
"Why?"
"Your young. You have talent. It would make me sick to think you're just going to be disposed of when you've lost your usefulness to them, except I'm already sick from something else."
"I am the True Noir. I never will leave Altena… and… this is the only way I'll be able to get close to my friend…"
"Fuck them. Fuck them all. I told you, there's no such thing-"
"I DON'T CARE! I WON'T LEAVE THEM!" Chloe screamed into the back of Colt's head. He turned around glaring while reach out and grabbing her by the collar of her cloak and pulling her face-to-face. He didn't mind that her hands were meanwhile trying to break his wrist.
"You listen you stupid bitch! Killing for a cause? It's all a fairy tale! You honestly think there's any kind of pure intent in this world? You're just turning yourself into a puppet out of show! I know, because I was the same when I was your age! I spent the first twenty years of my life getting ready to save the world! But according to them, saving the world meant invading foreign countries for commercial profit! Everything is always for making money, you idiot! I told you! The sooner you care only about yourself, the sooner you become REAL!"
He shoved her away then, both of them panting, it all out in the open.
"That's the difference between real people and weapons. Weapons listen to fairy tales. Real people think only of making money." Colt concluded.
Chloe shook her head, "I don't want to be like you. Even with all the money, you still keep trying to prove you're human. I don't need to prove that to anybody."
"The only thing I need to prove is that I can stand by myself, without anyone telling me what I should be." Colt snorted.
The two of them stared at each other. Colt wheeled himself about and started rolling away.
"They're gone, Chloe. We don't need each other anymore. Go back to your fairy tale kingdom, and live out your fake story…"
Colt stepped onto the rocky cliff over looking the dry land.
He didn't know why he kept onto the insignificant memory. He didn't know why he always retold that story first when he told stories of his older jobs. He didn't know why he felt so shook up on the inside when he heard a bad rumor of a "True Noir". Didn't know why he wasted so many resources to find out who Altena was. Didn't know why, even when he was just recovering from being nearly beaten to death by a Gunslinger Girl, he scoured the French-Spanish border.
This wasn't the time to think. Colt leaned his head backwards to drink down the remainders of his aspirin bottle, before spitting it away, his arms waving in the air uselessly while they rested in splints and bandages
Down below he could see a vast mansion, endless vineyards, ancient pedestals, coliseums and labyrinths. Sounds of flying steel and gunfire, and a shrieking girl's anger.
He should have known he was right all long time ago. Chloe was going to make her fatal mistake any moment.
He saved her life once without his legs. He'd do it again without his arms.
Sliding down the cliff, Colt wondered why he was doing any of this. This was being a hero, saving a life, living a fairy tale and happy endings.
All he knew was, ever since that night, all the money in the world stopped making him happy.
You can have your Sensations. All I want is Peace.
To Serve: End
A/N: I love Chloe. I don't want her to die. That's why I'm off to save her life. I just like her too much.
Anyways, Fanon notes. I usually don't think of Fanon in terms of time-line, honestly. I usually thought it as things concepts existing at the same time. What if somebody wanted to do something, but couldn't because a Fanon timeline restricted it? Right now I think of the Fanon as in, "There are US units, Israeli Units, Italian Units, AND Soldats, Amalgam, Pandania, British Lirbrary, kNIGHTS, etc." That way, people can reference other stories without having to curb how they want their stories to be by trying to have it to adhere to how other people wrote the events.
If any of you get this, please say so. I might be spouting gibberish.
