Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ And So Shall Darkness Fall ❯ Criminal Intellect ( Chapter 1 )

Part One - Criminal Intellect

Rated R for swearing and some violence
Contact- you can reach the authors of this story at:
XXBlueiceeXX@msn.com (jenny)
Demon_darkhorse@hotmail.com (kelly)
Please send us any comments, complaints, or even, sniff sniff, flames and hate mail,
I know you're all just dying to talk to us.

I don't own Trigun, wish I did, but unfortunately I don't. If you sue me, all you'll get is a pile of eighties toys and a heap of brain rotting anime. Damn, now you ARE going to sue me! Please don't! I'd whither away and die without my Trigun!! Hehe, Just borrowing some of the characters, I'll put them back safe and sound when I'm done, although Wolfwood might be a bit broken down...

And so ya'll don't get all confused, we made some nifty profiles of the two bad gals in
the fic. Care to read?

Psychout the Ricochet ~ smokes like a fiend. Doesn't like alcohol, cuz it's bad. Always has mirrors hidden on her body somewhere. Classy cusser, more polite than most gunmen, but still a bad ass. Calmer of the two. Cool under pressure. Carries two automatic pistols, nothing showy or out of the ordinary. She wears a forest green trench coat, and has dozens of mirrored cigarette cases lining the purple velvet inside of it. Wears a brown cowboy hat that comes equipped with a flip down cross hairs scope and magnifier. Always has a cigarette behind her ear, even when she's sleeping. Has long, waist length green hair that matches her coat, and violet eyes. She usually wears dark purple trousers and a plain white blouse underneath her trench, which she hardly takes off, even in the sweltering heat of Gunsmoke. Slim build, and about 5'11", but wears black boots that make her three inches taller. The boots' soles are pure steel, making it possible for her to jump from high places without much pain from impact. Her main ability is being able to ricochet bullets off of obstacles to hit her prey with. By using mirrors and her scope to judge distances, angles, and object proximity, she can hit her enemy from the strangest places. Although she is excellent with her ricochet techniques, known quite well for her precise shooting, she is terrible at aiming directly at her target. Her past is still unclear, so clouded that even her partner, Sight, doesn't know much about her. All that is known is that she comes from a large, tight knit family and has been searching the planet for the murderer of one of her brothers, the famed outlaw, Psydshot the Sidewinder. A member of a group known as the Gungho Guns recently gunned him down. Psych still doesn't know the exact identity of the man that committed the crime, but she takes any leads or tips that may somehow show the way to him, so she can get her revenge. She spends her free time, as a bank robber and an assassin, like her partner.

Sightblinder the Longshot ~ drinks like a fiend. Doesn't like smoking, cuz it's bad. Wears reflective sunglasses with silver rims all the time, even when sleeping. Swears like a mofo, seems angry a lot, jumpy. Has a "lance gun", a pistol that is about 30 inches long. Pulls it out of a sheath in her trench coat. She has another automatic pistol hidden somewhere else in the coat. The trench coat is midnight blue with a silver lining. Her waist length blonde hair is usually pulled back into a braid, so she can see what she's sniping, and she has two different colored eyes, the right one is ice blue, and the left one is gold. Her only other distinguishing mark is the tattoo of angel wings on her back. She is also slimly built, and about 5'8." Sight has really excellent vision, maybe even higher than 20/20, making her the perfect sniper. She tries to stay away from close range combat, leaving that mostly to her partner, Psych, and her ricochet skills. Her past is a dark one. She never knew her parents and she was raised in an all girls orphanage, where the head mistress was abusive. Sight has scars from her childhood, mental as well as physical. She has a short temper, and doesn't hesitate to snap on someone. The one thing that pisses her off the most is seeing women get abused. Her only real friend is Psych. Other than stealing money, Sight also likes to lift just about anything else she can get her sticky fingers on. Psych sometimes calls her Klepto.

It was dark. The two young women stood quietly on a roof, overlooking the city of December, their trench coats flapping lightly in the warm breeze. The taller of the two lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply.

"You sure they're planning on hitting this bank tonight?" she asked, blowing smoke through her nose.

"Yup. The bartender tipped me off. Said that there was going to be some shit going down over here," the shorter replied, taking a sip from her flask.

Sure enough, five masked people snuck into the bank. There were a few shots fired, followed by screaming. The men ran out of the bank and jumped into their getaway vehicle, laden with money.

"See ya down there," the tall one said, flicking the cigarette away. The short one pulled her weapon.

"Yeah, I'll meet you down there in a sec, Psych," she said, taking aim.

Psych jumped off the building and landed on the getaway vehicle's roof. She sank to her ankles in the thin metal of the car's roof, due to the steel soles of her boots.

"What the--?" one of the robbers asked, his head barely missing the deep dent.

Psych squatted down, leaned over, and stuck her face in front of the windshield, tipping her hat politely and smiling. "Good ev'ning, boys. That's certainly a lot of money you have there. Mind if I relieve you of it?"

Suddenly, the car sank even further when all four tires deflated at once. Psych jumped to the ground, pulling out one of her guns. She aimed it into the air as the men scrambled out of the damaged car.

"So, you gonna give me the money, or do you wanna get shot?" Psych asked, talking through another cigarette that hung off her lip.

"We ain't givin' you shit, lady! Besides, how do you think you're gonna hit us pointing that gun in the wrong direction?"

"Yeah, are you stupid?!"

Psych snorted. "Well, if I don't hit you, my friend up there definitely will," she said, cocking her head in the direction of her partner on the roof. The other woman waved.

"Who the hell are you?" yelled one of the men angrily, pulling out a gun and aiming it at Psych.

She smiled, and then fired into the air. Seconds later, the man's gun flew from his hand.

"I'm Psychout the Ricochet."

A second man's cigarette was shot from his mouth, landing near Psych's boot. "I'll take that. Tsk tsk tsk, such a waste," she said bending over and picking it up. She dusted it off and started to smoke it, adding it to the one she already was in the process of smoking. "My friend up there is Sightblinder the Longshot."

"What the fuck you doin' telling' everyone my goddamn name for, bitch?" Sight said as she hopped down from the roof.

"Hey, watch your fuckin' language, you fuckin' potty mouth! You kiss your mother with that mouth?" said Psych, exhaling a cloud of smoke and turning away from the confused men to face her friend.

"Heh. No, I killed her with this here gun," Sight said, displaying the weapon, a proud grin on her face.

Psych rolled her eyes in disgust. "You would be proud of something like that. You have no damn manners."

"What the hell you talkin' about Psych?" asked Sight, a hand on her hip, "You ain't got no manners neither, at least, not since I met ya."

Meanwhile, the would be robbers were trying to sneak away. Psych fired five shots randomly into the air without turning around. Each bullet found its mark in one of the men's legs. She glanced back to make sure they weren't going anywhere and then turned back to Sight to finish their argument.

"Look here--Hey! Who the hell are you? And you need to watch where you're going!" Psych shouted to a red-coated man that had crashed into her.

"Gee Miss, I'm terribly sorry," he slurred, obviously soused. His friend, a man dressed entirely in black, gave the two a friendly smile, while trying to support his tipsy pal.

"Hey, so sorry," he said, also drunkenly, "This nut here has had a bit too much to drink."

Psych pinched her nose with one hand and waved the other one around when the man in black came within breathing range of her, "Whew, and apparently someone else has too. That stuff will kill ya if you're not careful."

Sight cleared her throat and nudged Psych, "Ahem...speaking of killin'..."

"Oh yes, we have some unfinished business to take care of," said Psych, lighting yet another smoke, "You boys better run along now. Ya'll take care."

"Aw gee, Wolfwood," blubbered the red-coated man, "Aren't they the sweetest? Their kindness brings a tear to my eye..."

"Your eyes are always tearing, Vash," said Wolfwood, also lighting a cigarette, "Remember last night when I swatted that fly? I thought you were going to cry forever."

"But it never did anything to you," replied Vash, making a sad face at the remembrance of the waste of life.

"I still can't believe that you made me perform last rites on it!"

"Buuut Wolfwood..."

"Look buddies," interrupted Sight, getting annoyed, "You wanna get lost, or what? Don't you have somewhere to be?"

Wolfwood thought for a minute, taking a drag of his cigarette, ."..nope."

"Please help us mister," whimpered one of the injured bank robbers from behind Psych, "These women are mur---."

Before he could finish his sentence, Psych kicked him roughly. "Shaddup already, if you value your life."

"Hey," Wolfwood said, pushing Psych aside to get a better look at the pile of wounded men, "What the hell is going on here? Who the hell are you two?"

Sight looked at Psych and aimed her gun at Wolfwood. "Kill him?"

"We warned you," sighed Psych, shaking her head sadly, "It's your own stupid fault. Do whatever you want with these two, Sight, I'll grab the money. Hurry up though, the Sheriff and his backup will be here any minute."

Sight grinned at Wolfwood, whose hands were held up defensively, "So, where do ya wanna be shot first? I can make it real quick and painless if you prefer."

"W-wait a sec," stammered Wolfwood, looking over at Vash for help, "Why are you doing this?"

"Let my friend go," said Vash calmly, raising his hands above his head to show he was unarmed, "Please. I don't want any more people to get hurt. This doesn't have to end with loss of life."

"Well," sneered Sight, "You certainly sobered up quick. Stand next to your friend here, and don't pull anything or else I'll make you wish you were never born."

Psych grabbed a bag of money and tied it to her belt. "I got the loot Sight. What the hell are you waiting for? Shoot 'em!"

Sight's hand actually trembled slightly as she moved her gun from Vash to Wolfwood and then back again, "This is tough Psych," she said, wiping a free hand against her sweaty brow.

"Why?" asked Psych, "Just shoot them!"

"I-I can't!" Sight sighed, putting her weapon down, "One of these bastards is a damned Priest. You do it."

"Wha?" Psych backed away, "Oooh no no no no no. It's bad luck to kill a priest. I ain't going to hell. You shoot him."

"What do ya mean you ain't going to hell?" laughed Sight, "I think you're even more hell bound than me!"

"Then leave 'em," shouted Psych, getting ready to bolt at the approaching sound of the police wagon, "We got what we came for. C'mon, let's get the hell outta here! It's the Sheriff!"

Sight growled and took one more glance at Wolfwood and Vash, who were looking quite relieved, before she took her friend's advice, "You two are damn lucky. Count your blessings. I didn't kill you this time but if I run into you again, believe me, I will." She nodded to Psych, "C'mon."

"Oh, before we go," Psych turned and plucked the cigarette from Wolfwood's lip, "Don't mind if I bum one offa you, right?"

Wolfwood shook his head vigorously 'no'.

"Didn't think you would," replied Psych, slapping him lightly on the cheek, "G'night boys."

"Wait!" called Vash as the two took off, "Hold on! Who are you?!" His calls went unheeded though and they disappeared into the night without a backward glance.

Wolfwood breathed a sigh of relief, "That was a close one. I thought I'd be meeting the big guy for sure. Wish I had brought my cross with me, that would've taught them a lesson or two." He patted at his jacket, "Dammit, that was my last smoke! Cheap, lousy, rotten, no good..." Wolfwood trailed off, muttering curses and letting out some of his aggravation through kicking some dirt.

Vash stared off into the distance, "Those two were professional killers. Usually those types don't let a soul live. Like she said, we were lucky." One of the robbers moaned pitifully, making Vash turn back to the dilapidated car. He shook his head sadly at the pile of bleeding men. "Don't worry guys, here comes the sheriff, he'll patch the lot of you up and then I guess it's off to jail for you. Look on the bright side of things though; at least you're not dead!" Vash gave them a cheery smile, causing all of them to groan.

The Sheriff ambled up, accompanied by a few casually dressed officers. He yawned loudly, and surveyed the damage.

"What happened here?" he questioned Vash and Wolfwood, "I got a report that some men were robbing the bank." He gestured to the pile of robbers, "You shoot these guys, or what?"

Vash put his hands up, "No no no no, sheriff, we were just passing by when it happened."

"Yeah," added Wolfwood, "Two women shot them and took the money. We barely survived ourselves."

"Look son," the Sheriff said, yawning again, "Don't bullshit me now. A couple of women did this? Look at these bullet holes in the tires. That's precision shootin' m'boy, and your spiky headed friend there is packin' some serious heat." He motioned to Vash's gun.

"But we didn't shoot them!" insisted Vash, crossing his arms as another officer tried to handcuff him.

"I think you did," said the Sheriff, his eyes bloodshot and weary, "Don't give me any trouble here, it's late, I'm tired, and if you haven't noticed, I'm still wearing my pj's. I don't exactly like being awakened at 2 in the morning to have to deal with wannabe bank robbers like yourselves. Cuff 'em. I'm going back to bed. Stitch up these losers on the ground here and then bar 'em up too."

Vash and Wolfwood found themselves spending the rest of their night locked up in a cramped jail cell.