The Blue Hood {A Trigun Story}

The $$60 Billion Man

{Okay, this story has a bit of a LOOOOOOoooooooong and complicated history. I initially tried writing only this first chapter years and years ago, probably coming up with the idea in 2012. But I've spent so much time trying to perfect it enough to actually seem like it's apart of the anime/manga, that I've rewritten and reworked it so much, I've completely lost count. So, after so much hard work put into this ONE chapter, I hope that you enjoy it.}

A ravenous heat was blazing down in the desert, eating up the life of those who had the guts to wander in it's domain. Although, the two men walking below seemed to have no problem with the aridity.

"Hey boss, where exactly are we headed?" One of them asked. He was a tall, skinny man with short gray hair. His clothing was a bit odd, as it was a full body, black leather outfit. There were patches of blue armor on his elbows and knees and a small handgun strapped to his right side. His voice was low and raspy, but not from the lack of water, as most would assume. It was just his usual voice, which has also gotten him comments about his age. (""Fifty five"!? I'm only thirty three, damnit!")

"In a secluded area, Jonas. 'Ya know people are after me, so hanging out at a remote location gives us a little break. And what did I say about calling me boss? It makes me sound like a respectable person..." Responded the supposed "boss" with a smooth, southern accent.

His voice somewhat matched his look; child-like. He was a lot shorter than the other male, as that's one reason why. His pale white skin looked a little scorched, as it's pretty unhealthy to have in the desert, but he didn't seem to notice. His golden eyes nearly matched his golden hair, framing his youthful face, which was another reason. While wearing a basic white T-shirt and jeans, his arms were entirely encased in black leather-strapped gloves. The two most notable things about him, however, were the equally golden revolver strapped to his left leg and the blue-hooded cloak covering most of his body.

After a little pause, he added, "And speaking of respect, we're meeting our old pal, Frank, remember?"

"OH! That's right! When's the last time we saw ol' Frank, eh? Man, I've missed that bulking brat. Hey, maybe this time you can even play a game of cards with us!"

"Nah, I don't particularly like strategy type games, 'ya know? Besides, I've always thought myself to be better at darts."

"Obviously... Hey, is that the building up ahead?" Questioned Jonas as he squinted his eyes, hoping to get something to drink - preferably alcohol.

"Yes, I believe that's the bar we're meeting Frank at. I just hope he isn't late, like he usually is."

As they entered the quaint little shack, right away, they saw who they were looking for. A big, tan, muscular man with brown, spiky hair held up by a red headband. His arms and face were covered in scars, showing that he's been in more than a few brawls. He wore a no-sleeve, red leather shirt, black pants, and a pair of wide, red wristbands. He had duel cocked pistols hanging below his arms on each side. They looked to be older models, and they knew only one person who had such tastes: Frank.

"Hey! Long time no see, huh, my friends?" Frank exclaimed in his usual strong, yet cheery, voice. He seemed genuinely excited to see his old friends once again, as he went through the trouble of setting up a deck of cards for a new game between him and Jonas. He even remembered to bring out a bundle of darts for when the blue-cloaked man got bored.

"Frank, you ready to lose another game already? I thought after three years of losing to me would get through your thick, bulky skull!" Jonas cockily and, may I say, cleverly insulted. Immediately, the still nameless man sat in a chair beside Frank and picked up the darts, tossing one backwards and hitting it straight in the bullseye.