Guilty Gear fic - unfinished snippet
Oct. 20th, 2007 04:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rallamajoopHey ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
velithya assuming you get the chance to check your friends page in the near future - my brain has just spent the last couple of days trying to make me write crack Sin-origin fic, and it is all your fault. >< >< ><
Seriously, I had enough Guilty Gear fic in the works already, since (for assorted reasons I won't go into) it seemed like a good idea recently to take a quick break from that holic epic of mine by starting nearly all the GG ideas I've been accumulating and putting off for the last few months at once, and then worry about finishing them later. On the upside, I think most of them *are* going to be finished over the next month or two. It's just when and in what order that's still up in the air. Not to mention what else certain people might wind up prompting me to write in the meantime.
So I think it will be time to drag out the old unfinished-fic-meme again in the near future, once a few of these scribbles have been cleaned up a bit. But for now, here's one of the ones that isn't going to be finished. It's basically just a short piece of introspection which arrived in my head in pretty much this form months ago, but since it hasn't shown any inclination to attach itself to anything bigger, it seemed about time to just post what I've got and leave it at that.
The official bounty system paid enough for the most dangerous criminals on its list that you could make a good living out of it without having to work very often – if you were good enough, which not many other bounty hunters out there were. It didn’t hurt that he had such a reputation these days that bounties were known to give up without a fight as soon as they recognised him. A bounty that took a couple of weeks to track down could pay enough to keep him going for as many months, as long as he was careful with the money he made, and for Sol, being careful wasn’t much effort. There just wasn’t much you could do with it he cared about.
You didn’t need much to live his kind of life off, it only had to cover food, booze and cigarettes, (rarely) new clothes (which he tended to wear until they wore out in any case) and the occasional night in a cheap hotel when he got sick of roughing it. He could have afforded somewhere more expensive if he’d cared, but the higher up market you went the more questions were asked, and the probability someone would find reasons to call in the police went up too, and it wasn’t worth the trouble. Posher places weren’t his style.
Unofficial jobs were more interesting, more dangerous, more debatably legal and paid even better. Private jobs found you more often than the other way around, unless you were desperate for work, but there wasn’t any need to rely on them. As long as the main bounty office was prepared to stomach the minor hypocrisy of paying rewards to a man who’d been on a few of those wanted lists himself, life was easy.
It might have seemed pretty sweet to be able to get by without working very hard when he started out, but boredom set in more and more quickly these days. Without even regular Gear attacks to beak up the monotony anymore, too often there was nothing worth doing beyond working his way through another pack of cigarettes while he waited for the next nutjob to start experimenting with Gear cells or digging up blacktech or building their own robot army. Even tracking down certain old associates didn’t keep him as busy as he’d have liked, leads were too few and far between.
There were days he actually missed the Order, and considering he’d hated almost every minute of his service while he was there, that was patently insane. When even a life spent in low level fury at being ordered around by a teenaged religious fanatic with a near-suicidal hero complex started to sound pretty good, boredom had to be getting the better of you.
And the worst part was that it only really went away when something around him went so bad so fast that boredom looked pretty appealing in comparison.
(Presumably this was all leading into something going very bad very fast indeed. Buggered if I know what it was though. Ah well.)
velithya assuming you get the chance to check your friends page in the near future - my brain has just spent the last couple of days trying to make me write crack Sin-origin fic, and it is all your fault. >< >< ><Seriously, I had enough Guilty Gear fic in the works already, since (for assorted reasons I won't go into) it seemed like a good idea recently to take a quick break from that holic epic of mine by starting nearly all the GG ideas I've been accumulating and putting off for the last few months at once, and then worry about finishing them later. On the upside, I think most of them *are* going to be finished over the next month or two. It's just when and in what order that's still up in the air. Not to mention what else certain people might wind up prompting me to write in the meantime.
So I think it will be time to drag out the old unfinished-fic-meme again in the near future, once a few of these scribbles have been cleaned up a bit. But for now, here's one of the ones that isn't going to be finished. It's basically just a short piece of introspection which arrived in my head in pretty much this form months ago, but since it hasn't shown any inclination to attach itself to anything bigger, it seemed about time to just post what I've got and leave it at that.
The official bounty system paid enough for the most dangerous criminals on its list that you could make a good living out of it without having to work very often – if you were good enough, which not many other bounty hunters out there were. It didn’t hurt that he had such a reputation these days that bounties were known to give up without a fight as soon as they recognised him. A bounty that took a couple of weeks to track down could pay enough to keep him going for as many months, as long as he was careful with the money he made, and for Sol, being careful wasn’t much effort. There just wasn’t much you could do with it he cared about.
You didn’t need much to live his kind of life off, it only had to cover food, booze and cigarettes, (rarely) new clothes (which he tended to wear until they wore out in any case) and the occasional night in a cheap hotel when he got sick of roughing it. He could have afforded somewhere more expensive if he’d cared, but the higher up market you went the more questions were asked, and the probability someone would find reasons to call in the police went up too, and it wasn’t worth the trouble. Posher places weren’t his style.
Unofficial jobs were more interesting, more dangerous, more debatably legal and paid even better. Private jobs found you more often than the other way around, unless you were desperate for work, but there wasn’t any need to rely on them. As long as the main bounty office was prepared to stomach the minor hypocrisy of paying rewards to a man who’d been on a few of those wanted lists himself, life was easy.
It might have seemed pretty sweet to be able to get by without working very hard when he started out, but boredom set in more and more quickly these days. Without even regular Gear attacks to beak up the monotony anymore, too often there was nothing worth doing beyond working his way through another pack of cigarettes while he waited for the next nutjob to start experimenting with Gear cells or digging up blacktech or building their own robot army. Even tracking down certain old associates didn’t keep him as busy as he’d have liked, leads were too few and far between.
There were days he actually missed the Order, and considering he’d hated almost every minute of his service while he was there, that was patently insane. When even a life spent in low level fury at being ordered around by a teenaged religious fanatic with a near-suicidal hero complex started to sound pretty good, boredom had to be getting the better of you.
And the worst part was that it only really went away when something around him went so bad so fast that boredom looked pretty appealing in comparison.
(Presumably this was all leading into something going very bad very fast indeed. Buggered if I know what it was though. Ah well.)