2/25/2003
02:03
AM
Logfile
from Tomite.
Lin's
Dumpling House
This
small resturant is one of those most notable ones on Mott Street with it's
traditional decor and soft lighting. With space at a premium, the tables and
chairs are packed close together, with the waiters darting back and forth
between them with amazing agility. Though service is somewhat questionable, the
aroma of the dumplings that give the restuaurant it's name is simply
delectable. The menu offers almost twenty different varieties of dumplings from
vegetarian, meat, to seafood on top of the usual varieties of chinese cuisine.
Akurei
is here.
Obvious
exits:
Exit
Akurei
First
off: she does not exude pure evil. If only life were that easy. Black bangs
fall in front of her eyes ad nauseam, the rest tied back into a practical
ponytail. Her regular smile is impish but not trecherous, her frame small, yet
filled out. A warm tan speaking of long vacations shadows her skin and face,
and her eyes are a chocolate and caramel mix, shining barely amber near the
pupils. Her fingers are long and agile, and her body decently proportioned. So,
what exactly exudes ultimate evil about Reese? Absolutely nothing. Sucks to be
good sometimes, doesn't it?
She's
dressed up in party rags, in spite of the chilly weather. A white tube top
stretches across her torso, coupled with a pair of black suspenders and
matching cargo pants. On her head is a bowler hat, and her hair looks to be
tucked neatly into it.
Akurei
appears to be 23 years and 6 days old.
She is
awake, but has been staring off into space for a minute.
=-=>
Akurei looked at you!
Reese
twirls chopsticks absently between her fingers, peering at her laptop blearily
and occasionally tapping a couple keys. Ahh, senior work ethic, hard at play. Thankfully,
the girl is dressed for the weather - no skintight leather to toy with
adolescent hormones, this time. Adjusting her suspenders comfortably, she sits
facing the door, wary of anymore waylaying seishi. They're just all over the
place these days.
Mott
Street - Northern End
Dating
back
Chase
is a grumpy seishi. Well, maybe just a little bit. Or, at least his face isn't
all sunshine and roses, as he enters the restaurant, bent over a little bit at
the weight of his backpack. Nose twitches once at the scent, causing the boy to
perk a little bit. Mmmm. Food.
Reese
twitches at the entrance of the seishi, considering pulling the new hat over
her head and beating a quick retreat - granted, she hasn't been in major
trouble with the Genbu, so there's no harm in a little conversation, right?
Brice's last reaction to her kept firmly in mind, she raises her free hand,
calling out, "Hey!" across the tiny restaurant. "Chase!"
Chase
twitches as well. *twitch* Ugh, the funky feeling. Nothing like getting the
willies right when you enter a dumpling joint... please say it isn't a
premonition about the food. Either that or the silly boy hasn't recognized the
feel of an honest-to-badness oni yet. Silly turtle. At his name, he lifts his
head, in the midst of sliding into a booth. Gaze immediately darts to Reese,
and he frowns in confusion for the longest of moments, trying to place her
exactly. His gaze narrows and then it finally hits him. "Oh... Oh! Hey
there. Small world, eh?"
Reese
watches the play of emotions across Chase's face, resisting the urge to giggle
at the boy's ignorance. Someone still hasn't made introductions, it seems, and
even big brother hasn't seen fit to tell the Genbu about the things that go
bump in the night. "Maybe just a small city," she comments glibly,
grinning. "Take a seat; I was just fudging some work. How've you been,
Chase?"
Chase
is naive or ignorant or something. He actually is blaming quite a bit on his
fellow Genbu, and this would be the least of his objections lately. The boy
moves to stand once more, only to slide into place across from her. "Thank
you," he answers. "Oh, I've been good... Reese." Yee-haw!
Finally recalled the name. "School. Work.... Work?"
Reese
waves a hand in the air flippantly, clicking the lap top shut and leaning away
from it, a lazy grin climbing onto her face. "Mm. Just a bit of homework
that should get done some time or another." She pauses, then, "I
talked to your brother - I get the sinking feeling that he's mad at me for some
reason. Maybe I just tick him off," she comments lightly, sighing.
"Or maybe the new look's making him cranky. No love for Reese, not
lately."
Chase
settles the school bag on the floor, leaning it up against the wall. "Oh?
You talked to Brice lately? Last time we talked..." He sighs, shaking his
head from side to side slowly, smirking. But he frowns, peering back up at her,
"Why would he be mad at you? What... you didn't give him a homework
assignment that he missed?"
"Eh,"
Reese says, rolling her eyes. "Probably something about antitheses and
opposites or something showy like that. Plus, I accidentally bonked him in the
head, but he said that was okay." Sure, forgive a girl for landing a sign
on your face, but not for world destruction. Typical. "Why, he's not mad
at you too, is he? That'd make me feel a little better - maybe he's just
cranky." Then again, considering the latest Yin Yang schisming, maybe not.
Chase
blinks at her for a long moment, "Bonked him? I'm sure he appreciated
that. It'd be a pain if you messed up that hair." He sighs, grunts, and
then drops his head into folded arms, "No, not mad. Just... annoyed with
me. Cranky isn't the half of it. I just... nothing feels quite right, you
know?" He reaches up to yank off his hat, rubbing at the back of his neck
once more. And it is doubly annoying when the hair on the back of your neck
starts to stand on end too.
"What
doesn't feel right?" Reese asks, her eyes concerned and her smile wide.
"That might not be something too smart to someone who's half-training to
be a criminal profiler, but at least I can tell you if you're destined to kill
a large amount of people. Maybe I can help, too. You. Not kill a large amount
of people." No, really. She steeples her fingers and puts on her best
psychologist face, clearing her throat in a mockery of seriousness. "So,
what seems to be the trouble?"
Chase
shakes his head from side to side, a rather amazing feat seeing as his head is
pillowed on his folded arms upon the table. "Bah. I liked it so much
better back then. Or at least, it feels like. I mean... dammit, I'm out-dated.
I'm..." He trails off, lifting his head to her and simply peering at
Reese. "And I'm rambling about something you clearly have no clue about.
Sorry about that. Wait... why would I kill a bunch of people? Well, not unless
they were gunning for /me/ and my friends, that is."
"Out-dated?"
Reese asks, a brow quirking as she grins. "Naw. I wouldn't say that. Maybe
it's just time for you to step away from the plate and let someone else at bat.
Maybe you're just tired of fighting for the same team two rounds in a
row." A happily oblivious expression slips onto her face to greet Chase;
she continues. "Just curious if you thought you might have a criminal
profile to worry about. Everyone's got potential to go on a murderous rampage
these days."
Chase
isn't exactly known for catching on to things all that quickly. Well, actually
it all depends on the situation. When out doing his 'work', he is probably the
fastest most preceptive guy around, but when sitting in a dumpling house
whining about himself and his woes to an oni... well, lets just say that he is
less than alert. "And the first time was long enough. You die at sixteen
years old, only to get stuck in a temple for another two-hundred years guarding
a necklace. A /necklace/. Sure, it was Takiko's, and Hiki was there, but
still... I was more comfortable back then. /We/ were more comfortable. It was
great, but now it's all messed up." Ramble. Whine. Ramble. Whine. Brat.
"Death
at sixteen," Reese says, wincing. "Wow, that blows. Trapped, dead, in
a temple, with your brother, for two-hundred years. Something tells me god was
giving it to you from behind." Her crude words are tempered with a
sympathetic kind of drawl, and when a large bowl of dumplings appears in front
of her, she pushes it halfway across the table with her chopsticks, offering
some to Chase. "How messed up?" she asks, spearing a dumpling and
blowing on it.
Chase
sighs and shrugs his shoulders, "Yeah, me.. being me, jumping into battle
to save a kid and promptly got feathered. Figured. Hurt like anything. But Hiki
was there, only he got killed too. So we were together, and yeah." Another
shoulder shrug as he looks at the bowl, grabbing some chopsticks himself. His
hand gets halfway there before he is blinking, hard. Wait. He frowns, peering
back up at her. Just peering.
Reese
winces sympathetically and starts nibbling at the edges of the dumpling,
blowing on a column of steam that erupts from the center. "Whew, they
really make them hot here. Anyways, that pretty much sucks, but at least you're
living a new life now. Can't be so bad, can it?" She pops the dumpling
into her mouth, chewing daintily in the sudden silence, playing the haloed and
innocent little angel. After a pause, she blinks at Chase, swallowing and
peering back. "What?"
Chase
is finally beginning to get his clue. Took a while, but it is coming into
focus. Silly, silly boy. His head turns a little to the side as he watches her,
and then he cants his head to the other side as if looking at her from a new
angle. He muses softly, "You don't feel like Ming... or the others."
He blinks harder. "Holy shit. Are you a... one of those?"
Reese
beams, something like pedantic pride lighting up her face. "Hey, the kid gets
it. I was aiming for a lust-filled impassioned night in bed first just for the
look that I'd get, but I decided to be nicer. Honestly, neither Brice, Anana,
or - what's his face - Setsuna have dropped the hint? Geez. And I thought you
all were well-connected." She pops another dumpling into her mouth and
swallows quickly, smirking. "'One of those'. And I thought demon warrior
was bad."
Chase's
eyes flash open wide, "You mean to tell me that they know who you
are?" Well, sure, he never talked to them about Reese, because the subject
never really was broached, but nor did any of them warn him off of any oni at
all. He could just pout now. He smirks at her, "In bed? Oh yeah... that'd
go over real well. As if I don't catch enough crap as it is." He smirks
heavier. "Dammit. Well... hell. Just... hell. You know, I don't much like
any of you oni at all. Gods taking Byakko and having them beat up on my little
sister. That just isn't cool at all."
"Well,
yeah." Duh. Reese shrugs her shoulders absently, nodding her head.
"Brice treated me to pizza the other day, and Anana's got my hat. Nice
girl, if only she would stop calling me 'Miss Winterbourne'. It's really
beginning to freak me out." She breathes deeper, like she's inhaling
something delicious, then shrugs. "Hey, if you wanna treat me like crap,
fine. Nothing the rest of you haven't done, with no realization at all that
we're operating under four different gods too. Not to mention the fact that
I've hardly done anything at all, personally." A little assault, a little
kidnapping - you know. "But if you wanna take this outside, I'd rather not
clean out the restaurant. It's a nice place." Smirk for smirk, she matches
him, flashing teeth. "Or don't you think you can take me, boy?"
Chase
is still pouting. He is actually rather good at it when he gets into the funk
that he is currently in right now. Almost angrily, he drags fingers through his
hair before reaching for that stupid hat and shoving it back on. He fusses. He
fumes. And it is her last bit that really chafes under the collar. Those words
take him right back to what Brice said just the other day before he lit off on
brother dear. His eyes flash and the boy is immediately sliding to his feet.
"After you..." Think, boy. Nope... not gonna do it.
Reese
slips her laptop into her bag, and hikes it onto her shoulders. "Actually,
dearie, let's walk side by side. No offence, but considering how many times you
all have double-crossed us, I don't think you have any honor at all." It's
the fuming that really gets the girl off, and she vacuums up the chi with a
great deal of satisfaction as she tosses a couple bills onto the table and
starts towards the door. "You don't happen to know any place secluded
nearby, do you? On this block, maybe. I don't know if you should be crossing
the street on your own." Every comment is tainted with mockery, every
provokational word placed to tick the boy off. Why? Because it fuels her, and
provides secondary amusement, too.
Well,
apparently Lexie is doing a very good job, because now Chase is getting all
kinds of riled up. And, you know, those are exactly the times when he doesn't
think and simply acts that he /really/ gets into trouble. It is even worse when
your best tool is at home, sitting propped up against the wall. Not that it'll
work all that well right now. "You know, my dad taught me never to hit a
girl. Guess I'm gonna make him right mad at me today." And that is all the
warning the teenager gives her before, right then and there trying to grab the
woman and do one of those saloon tricks. You know the kind... a dive through
the glass window. Or if it doesn't give, just plain slamming her against it.
Reese
slams into the window and winces, snarling. "I /told/ you, outside!
Dammit, can't any of you get this 'no property damage thing right, ever?"
If Chase's chi sense went off at the girl's presence, he's going to have a
seizure now. If the random assault had not scared some of the custom away, the
braver ones and the employees are shooed away from the restaurant, a huge swell
of magical nastiness exuding from Reese as she backs off, unzipping her bag and
rather angrily ripping it open and lobbing the dark purple substance in Chase's
direction. It lengthens and snaps into a snake-like form, floating in the air
and staying firmly between its controller and the seishi. Meanwhile, she has
sat down on the ground, assembling chunks of body together haphazardly.
Wouldn't
it be wonderful if, after all of this, that one of the patrons notice that
Chase started it, and he'll end up in jail as well? That'd just be poetic. The
boy winces at the flare of chi, backs off a few paces at the... well, the
thing. No troops back in the day ever flung something like that at him before.
He reaches a hand back, and comes up with absolutely nothing. "Oh
shit." The bow is not here. A gun? Anyone got a gun? Okay. Fine. He draws
back a step, reaches over, and with expert marksmanship, lobs a bowl of
dumplings towards Reese.
Desperate
times call for desperate measures: Reese takes what's there of her newer
creation and raises it into the air, stretching a wide panel of body parts in
front of her with only a couple dumplings and some soup making it across.
"Ow!" she cries, whimpering. With a sigh, she reforms the headless
monstrosity and makes it lumber towards Chase - odd mismatched limbs and a
total height of around 6'5" hurtle at the young man, no control, but no
inhibition as well. The fact that she has not attacked his own cells makes for
an interesting testament to how much she initially liked the boy - it seems
times have not gotten wholly desperate, not quite yet.
Chase
eyes the thing. Okay, somehow he doubts throwing dumplings at IT will make much
of a difference. "What the hell kind of skills are you supposed to
have?" he mutters, dropping back a few more paces. Eyes narrow though, the
pretty green glow forms about his hand, and then the ice begins to form,
webbing its way across the floor to create one fine sheen. Paper thin, but
terribly slick. He is already climbing up on the seat of one of the many
booths, ready to pounce over to another spot.
Reese
eyes the sheen with something like upset, testing the condition of the floor
with a careful foot. "Uh-huh," she mutters, the positions herself for
rescue, as her happy little friend whom we will now call Ricardo leans down and
picks her up. In a somewhat better position, she unhooks one of her suspender
clips and pulls down her pants - not too much, mind you, only enough to expose
the tattoo, glowing brightly orangered above her hip. "Evil spirit,"
she purrs, as Ricardo lifts her bag up to her. And from it? She pulls out the
nice, heavy form of a desert eagle, aiming carefully at Chase. She aims and
fires with something like a novice's practice, breathing and squeezing, slow
but precise about each shot.
Chase
is seeing enough of Ricardo, thank you very much. He really doesn't need to
have Reese flash him now. Still perched up on the cushion of the booth, his
eyes do go to the tattoo and then he smirks, "I didn't need to see
it." TMI. But at the sight of what Reese now has in hand, his eyes open
wide as quarters. He boy is immediately bounding down to the slick floor and
from there sliiiiiiides to the side, nearly colliding with a table. A grunt and
some more concentration as he tries to conjure up some more of the pretty, hard
and cold stuff, primarily about Richardo's feet. Stay.
"You
loved it and you know it," Reese comments brightly, reclipping her
suspenders. The ice posing a danger as it is, the girl risks hopping off of
Ricardo's shoulders and landing on a table, ripping his legs away from his feet
and concentrating. The man-thing begins to stretch and reconfigure,
transforming into a net of sorts between the two fighters. Unfortunately for
Chase, it begins to move towards him, a firm and obvious attempt to capture the
boy in a corner. She eyes the feet, muttering, "Little boy, you've got
some interesting tricks up your sleeves." It'
It's
the only warning he gets before Reese, making a quick decision, takes control
of the cells in Chase's legs, holding him in place.
"You
haven't even seen half of it," Chase mutters, still awfully durn angry.
That's it. From now on he lugs the bow around, no matter what looks he gets.
"I loved your other outfit. I'd have loved it even more if you were
wearing it down." He'll make her get a wee bit nipply in the cold. He
drops back a couple of steps, already considering darting over for a better
chance at getting at her. Only, the thing he, he is suddenly froze in place as
well. The teenager frowns in confusion before cursing. D'oh! Most of he defense
is in the fact that he is awfully quick in getting out of harm's way. He
concentrates on Reese once more, this time trying to chill her into place.
Man-thing is given but a glance.
Reese
winces, dropping the gun beneath her foot and grinding it down into the ice.
The thing about metal is that it sure conducts cold pretty well, and she's not
wearing enough as it is. "Thing is, I liked that outfit quite a bit
too." She doesn't reveal why, but her control of her body is whole lot
better when she can control it like... well, like someone else's body.
Shivering into the cold, she thrusts Ricardo forward for a coup de grace, his
hands wrapping around Chase's neck, altogether too cold, too rubbery. "You
don't want to play war of attrition with me, kiddo," she calls, smirking,
though her boots are rather distressingly lodged in place. Hmm.
This
could be a problem. Once can only conjure up so much ice before it begins to
really be a drain on the reserves, and the relative moisture. And it has been
quite a long while since the last time he really tapped into his 'skillz'. As
Chase's neck is grabbed, the teenager is immediately reaching up to try and
wrap his arms around the Thing's wrists or whatever it has. "This isn't a
war," he rasps. "This is just play time." Although a rather
disastrous play time for him.
2/26/2003
09:20
PM
Logfile
from Tomite.
"Play
time," Reese echoes, her lips curling up into a leer as her hair frizzes
just a touch: so little moisture, so much static. Argh. She relinquishes in
part the hold she has around his throat - the blood vessels beneath might be
just a little bruised - and keeps just out of reach of his grip, his legs still
anchored in place. "Do you mean that if you were real serious, you would
run off and call your friends, just like all the rest of your coward seishi?
War is only possible when you outnumber us at least three to one, isn't it, for
you all?" Her shoulders are rolled back, her smirk easing into a look of
scorn and disgust.
Chase
coughs after being released, his hand coming up to rub at his neck. He coughs ones
more before glaring over to her, "Hell no." He draws in a breath,
"No, if I was real serious you'd be attached to that wall back there
instead of sitting on some freak of nature. His eyes narrow once more, but this
time he is concentrating on her, working to try to conjure up some more ice in
an effort to get her to not concentrate on his legs. It sure would help if he
could move.
Reese's
eyes light up, and she slips across the floor quickly, carefully crossing the
distance until she's standing just in front of Chase. Impulsively, she leans
forwards and presses her lips to his - her mind, of course, concentrating and
preventing any quick moves he might think to make - tendering the young man a
rather passionate display of a particular skill set of hers. Drawing away, she
justifies herself: "Finally, a Yang with honor." A daring and perhaps
unwise move on her part, but when she draws far enough away, the grip on
Chase's legs is released, allowing him mobility again. Ricardo is abandoned in
favor of a packet of blood, liberated from a donation van, which she draws out
and nets before her.
Chase
is slid into, and then kissed. Kissed!
Now, normally, he would be rather flustered and all kinds of puffing up
in the chest if that sort of thing just happened. But considering the
circumstances, the teenager simply gapes at her. As he is released, he nearly
collapses to the ground, but actually draws back a slippery step. Another
cough, the blood is eyed, Ricardo is eyed. So now what? His options are dwindling.
And one can bring up so much ice before the moisture and such to work with gets
difficult to grip.
Reese
is now in a casual, athletic slouch, her tension level and forced cockiness
mediated by a sense of security - she doesn't have to worry about backup, or
unbalanced odds, or escape. Merely concentrate on the fight before her; options
are open; mind is clear. "If we were on a more friendly competitive basis,
I would offer you some suggestions to practice with. Seeing as how you don't
really like any of us Yin at the moment, though, I won't be telling you how to
defeat me." Ahh, a smart villain. The blood lengthens into a line, then
snaps whip-like towards Chase; it is easy to control, elegant and - should the
line touch the young man's skin, he will find - sharp.
Chase
is quick though. And when his legs are released, is quick to dart out of the
way of the whip. "Genbu," he mutters, curses, whatever... The boy
ducks back another pace and his back slaps against the wall. "Yeah,
well... I hate to say it, but you're the first person I've gotten a change to
mess with since whenever. And this isn't going all that well for me."
Well, except for the kiss. He braces a hand against the wall, considers for a
moment, and then tries something new. Hand cups and he creates up a nice little
ball of ice. But in the next breath, he pushes hard against the wall at
something of a controlled slide, trying to duck under the snapping blood and
hurl his... well, ice ball at her with all of that marksman's skill once more. Well,
that is unless that whip doesn't get him.
Reese
sees the ball in time, but hasn't enough to dodge, toughening the skin on her
arms and deflecting the ice with a 'oomph'. Unfortunately, that high
intelligence rating did not think to compensate for momentum, and she falls
onto her backside, slamming into the ground. The offensive, however, is not
abandoned, and what is essentially a garrote of blood spirals around Chase in a
loose curl, then tightens suddenly. "Don't worry; I've already got more
respect for you than I have for anyone else I've met. So count yourself as an
officially cool guy." Hyuk hyuk. She's punny!
Chase
was sure hoping to dodge that blood... thing. Hrm. Reese sure seems to have
quite a few /things/ around here. Hard to describe half of what that woman has
at her disposal. "Yeah. Like I appreciate that." Although, that slide
is being cut off as he is squeezed. Okay, now, this time the action is
responded too with a cry as it more than likely slices through clothing and into
skin. Great. There goes another perfectly good set to clothes.
Actually,
it's not too difficult: 'ex-people' pretty much covers it entirely. Reese eyes
the clothing, always forgetting that normal - living - people have a habit of
wearing some. Typically. "I told your brother you were a good kisser.
Perhaps I should try the next time when you're not completely petrified and
victim to my magic." This comment is coupled with a well-practiced leer,
her smile wide and comfortable. Okay, so maybe the girl is obnoxiously
confident. You would be too, if you were winning.
Chase
struggles against the Thing. See how, this is why he attacks from /afar/.
Ranged. This up-close thing has never gone well for him. Ever. And this time is
certainly no exception. "Next time, I'll bite back," he mutters,
smirking. Another wince as he struggles a little more, scowls heavier, and
tries to reach hands over to wrap about that blood thing despite how sharp it
is.
"I
like 'em feisty," Reese snaps back, laughing. She watches the movement,
taking the lapse in action to find her feet again. "Ah," she warns,
as Chase becomes a little too feisty for her liking, winding the line of sharp
red up and around the boy's throat, which has probably gotten a little too much
action today. "There are four major vessels in the neck. Two spurt, two
gasp, when you cut them. They feed you, moreso than you feed yourself. Swallow
too hard, and you'll feed me," Reese lectures pedantically.
After
being led into the Pussycat by Reese before, Chase should have figured this one
out. "Well, hopefully you'll get everything you bargained for." His
hands tighten around the blood, still careless of any cutting. He simply
watches Reese, grins that crooked grin of his to her, and begins to try to form
the ice about the thing, rather slowly crystalizing its way along that spiral.
Reese
watches Chase with a curious gleam in her eyes. "The blood is filled with
plasma - sadly, little to no water there for you to play with." It seems
like a catch-22, almost - the more he endeavors to avoid the blood, the more he
sheds, the more ground he has to cover as the blood takes its form and
ferocity. A sudden release; Chase has given her enough fodder already, and she
draws all the blood, old and new, to her hands, collecting it in her palms and
smiling. "Your move," she murmurs. Just toying? Perhaps. She has no
want to administer the coup de grace to Chase. Yet.
Chase
narrows his eyes at her, and somehow manages to smirk even more, if that is at
all possible. Well, seeing as he has pretty much used up all there is to use
around here, that leaves him pretty much well screwed. And so, his move is his
mouth. Well, you know. "Fuck you." No fellow sei around to yell at
him about his language. Of course, right about now he is regretting those words
about not needing a little bit of help here. Damn.
"Tell
me that was an offer," Reese replies, sitting down on a table and watching
Chase, quiet and sly. "You've got endurance, strength..." Her brow
quirks impishly, a grin settling onto her face. "You're almost already
dressed for the occasion," she remarks idly, flicking a finger absently at
poor Chase's state of dress.
"Let
me go and we'll see," Chase mutters, flashing her a toothy grimace.
"Look. I've got better things to do with my time than hang out in here,
literally. So, are you going to get on with this or do we have to wait for the
police to show up and then we'll explain things." Woooo, he managed all
that despite the squeeze, and cuts and whatever.
Reese
draws the blood to her palms, stealing all that has leaked from Chase as well
as the blood of her own. "I have no wish or want to kill you here,"
she says, grinning. "My mess is a little easier to clean up than yours.
Better things to do with your time than needlessly attack a more powerful
being, dear little Chase? Will you go off now, tail between your legs, and tell
your friends about how you were so nearly defeated, child?" Oh, now she's
just being mean.
Chase
coughs again, shaking his head from side to side, "Lets just say that next
time we meet." If there is a next time. "I won't be quite so
careless. I'll make sure to have /two/ bowls of dumplings to throw at
you." Yeah! That's telling her. Ohh! What's that? Is that sirens in the
background? He has never been so happy to hear that sound before -which would
be a first.
Reese
hears the sirens as well, and takes a cell phone from her pocket in
anticipation. The body, composed of various pieces, disintegrates, crawling
fitfully back into the girl's bag. At the ring, "Winterbourne. Actually, I
just got here - boy, is it a mess. Someone sure did a number on this place. I'm
not entirely sure what coulda caused this, but I see some structural damage,
and some kinda prank: ice on the ground. Probably just some teenager's idea of
a good time." She smiles at Chase, winking cheekily. "No, they're not
here any more. I think he mighta hurt himself a little; I see spatter on the
floor. Maybe a cut? I'll run the DNA samples through CODIS as soon as I collect
it. No sir, I haven't cleared the area. I doubt they're still around, though -
I can't imagine anyone being that stupid." That's your cue, Chase.
Chase's
eyes flash open as she speaks. Wait. "Now that is just plain mean,"
he grumbles. This also provokes some renewed struggles. Not caring at all about
getting cut to ribbons or any other such thing, his hands tighten around the
blood-thing as he strains, legs attempt to kick out to try to break free, and
he cries out with the effort, muttering curse after curse after curse that
would probably get his mouth washed out with soap if one of his 'conpanions'
were about.
"Oh,
stop it," Reese says testily to Chase, "can't you see that I'm on the
phone?" She releases the bonds, quickly, calling it into her palm, and
subsequently into her hands, flicking some of the boy's blood carefully off of
her fingers and onto the floor before pulling a pair of latex gloves on.
"Just get out of here, will you? Goddamned tourists," Reese mutters
into the cell, sighing. Doctor evidence? Reese? Oh, never.
As soon
as he is released, Chase falls to the floor, and to add insult to injury, that
thin layer of already melting ice causes him to not quite land on knees and
hands, but he slides to lay full out. Ouch. He lets the coolness of the ice
seep into his wounds for a moment before he is levering himself back up. His
gaze flickers towards the frosted window, seeing the glimmer of lights without.
He curses again and finally manages to climb to his feet, albeit a little
staggeringly. Bah. This sucks. "I'll be finding you again, Reese."
As soon
as he is released, Chase falls to the floor, and to add insult to injury, that
thin layer of already melting ice causes him to not quite land on knees and
hands, but he slides to lay full out. Ouch. He lets the coolness of the ice
seep into his wounds for a moment before he is levering himself back up. His
gaze flickers towards the frosted window, seeing the glimmer of lights without.
He curses again and finally manages to climb to his feet, albeit a little staggeringly.
Bah. This sucks. "I'll be finding you again, Reese." *re*
There
cannot be injury without proper insult. The girl points to the kitchen leading
out the back, and promptly cleans up the blood that Chase leaves behind,
irrelevent to her evidence planning. The excess blood is stowed carefully in
her bag, and Reese's parting shot is a blown kiss - coupled with a genuine,
light pressure on the boy's cheek. "I look forward to it, kiddo."
Chase
mutters something under his breath, probably not all that flattering. Ow.
Just... ow. He smirks, loudly, at Reese, "Yeah, I'll just bet you
do." Hand rubs at where he was smooched for about the millionth time. You
know, one would expect oni smooches to be icky 'n stuff. The kind that would
sear your skin and such, but that simply isn't the case. One finger is waggled
at her not all that menacingly, and he hadn't even the forethough to use the
middle finger instead of that index he uses. Sheesh. With a grump, he moves
thru the door.
Mott
Street - Northern End
Dating
back from the original construction period, Mott Street is particularly narrow
and winding in comparison to other roads in the area. There is barely enough
room for two cars to pass by, let alone allowing for the delivery trucks and
vans to stop off with their cargo. The shops here tend to be more extreme, real
heart of chinatown stuff, visited more by the locals than tourists. Red brick
provides a darker backdrop to the storefront signs and the even narrower side
streets.
Obvious
exits:
Canal
St. (NO) Mott St. (SO) Elizabeth St. (EA) Martial Arts Supply Buddhist Temple Lin's Dumpling House
Normally,
a guy like Travis would be mugging someone, he's just got that look, but he's
not a mugger. No, he's just a lunatic out for a stroll. Air is good for the
mind, but those New York fumes'll kill you.
It's a real good thing he's used to them, or enjoys them, depending on
the mood he's in or the medication.
Thank
goodness for the hour, otherwise Chase has no clue how he would make his way
down the street in the current condition that he is in. Although, currently, he
just around the corner from the Dumpling House, where there looks to be a few
police vehicles. The teenager is settled on the stoop of a store, nearly
licking his wounds, or catching his breath. Sans hat, it looks like the boy
might have gotten into a fight with a whip. Nice. Well, not really. He winces,
surveying a cut on his arm, right through the fabric of his shirt when he is
abruptly blinking up, not just alerted by the sound of someone on a stroll, but
that knowledge that someone he should know is near.
Travis
didn't see that. He just did not see that. "Aw hell." Time to turn
and walk the other way. "Damnit."
The thing is, he's not going to turn and walk the other way, because he
just can't quit staring at Chase. "Great, now I'm seeing things, it can't
get much worse." The bad thing is,
when he says that, things always get worse. "Got your ass kicked, huh?" Hey, he's nuts, he can talk to the things he
sees if he wants to!
Namame
Shoulder
length locks of bloody crimson have been tied into an untidy 'tail' at the nape
of his neck. This precaution, however, is lost on the unruly mass of bangs that
hang in uneven strands over golden-brown eyes. His nose is rather thin and
upturned, giving him an appearance of youth that is carried over in the
angularity of his jawline. Overall, this young man's appearance can be
described as 'scraggly', as facial hair that goes un-tended for days on end
only reaches the stage of unkempt stubble. His build tends toward lean
musculature, more toward height than bulk.
Loose
jeans in faded blue hang down to 'flop' over the top of scuffed black leather
boots, the 'cuffs' more than just a bit frayed. A black, short sleeved shirt is
worn, though it's barely noticeable under the baggy flannel that has seen
better days, the navy hue it had once been now turned a near white. Though it
can barely be seen among the unruly locks of his hair, one earring is worn in
his left ear, a simple stud with a glistening purple gem.
Namame
appears to be 17 years, 1 months, and 1 days old.
He is
awake and looks alert.
Chase
winces once more as he tries to unfold from his position, smirking rather
heavily at the pain that shoots up his legs. "Never going to leave that
damn thing home again," he mutters, before placing both hands down on the
cool cement of the stoop to give him the leverage and momentum to stand up. Ow.
Just... ow. Eyes narrow just the slightest at the one who approaches, head cocked
to the side. At first, he tenses at the idea that it could be Brice, which
would be a Very Bad Thing. But it doesn't feel quite right. "No, I fell
down some stairs," he mutters, frowning into the evening shadows.
"But if you are looking for a fight, just keep talking to me." Oh,
someone is a wee bit snarky. Hurts to get your arse kicked.
The
laugh those words prompt is nothing short of crazy, and that's just what Travis
is, to a certain extent. "Looks
like the stairs won. Didn't come looking for a fight, just a walk, but if you
can't take a beating once in a while, I'd pull out while you still
can." A puff of breath is sent up
in an attempt to clear his eyes of the bangs that fall over them. "Watch
out for that last step." It's an
old saying, but he's going to leave it at that and just walk away.
Chase
shakes his head once to clear it of the encroaching dizziness, or possibly to
just shake whatever that passes for brains around. He frowns quite considerably
at the not-so passer-by. "I'm here, aren't I? And its not like I
didn't...." The teenager trails off as he finally takes a step down off of
the stoop, but with one hand still gripping the wall, just incase he could use
a little help keeping upright. He moves out more completely into the light, and
therefor getting a good, strong look at Travis. Dark eyebrows come down with
his frown, growing heavy. "Wait..."
"Wait
on what? You want to try and kick my ass?" Travis' gaze shifts, his head tilting to give a sideways glance
to Chase. "Like you didn't what?"
Denial is more than a river in Egypt, folks, and Namame is going to stay
waist deep in it. "You're either
going to do it or you're not."
It's that same anti-social behavior in a new time. Some things just
never change. "Like I said, either
avoid stairs or get some slip proof shoes." Now he can walk away from the stranger/Mr. Hallucination.
Chase
blinks for another moment. Wait for it. Yeah, and he is shaking his head once
more to clear it from the fuzzies and a strong dose of confuzzlement. "No,
I don't. I probably couldn't lick a lolly, let alone give you a couple."
Uhm, yeah. "Nor do I want to." His eyes narrow once more as he just
peers at Travis, and then he reaches one hand out, palm sliced open, to try to
reach for Travis' elbow. "Wait a moment. Please."
Travis
stops, turns, and just /looks/ at Chase.
"Do me a favor and just don't say it." Why? Because he has this feeling that he
just doesn't want to know. "Damn, you did get your ass kicked." Oh, wait. He's already established this.
Blame it on his broken brain. "Or
are you looking for a shoulder to get that kicked butt of yours
home?" If nothing else, Namame has
common decency. He can't just let someone that looks like that try to make it
on their own. Damn people. "Well?"
Chase
has never been one to listen to reason. In fact, he honestly can't remember the
last time that happened. Of course, he probably should have actually tried to
practice 'listening to reason' about an hour ago, but that'd still be asking
too much from his. "Namame..." he whispers lowly. He managed to
unbreak Hiki, would it be too much to ask to help unbreak another? More than
likely.
Travis
didn't want to hear that! "Now I know I'm nuts." Or they both are, but it just isn't going to
matter. "I don't know who you're
looking for, but it isn't me. If you need help, you got it, but just stop
calling me that." It's a safe bet that he's tossed things like the memory
of that name up to insanity. He could walk away, and he really, /really/
should, but he's just not doing it. "You've got the wrong guy."
Chase
actually frowns in confusion there. Eh? Wait a moment here. He blinks in
confusion before lifting his hand up to rake fingers through his hair, drawing
his forelock briefly away from his eyes, and still wincing at the action. Never
grab a whip made of blood. Just a note incase that ever happens to you. He
coughs and blinks again, "Like hell you aren't..." His eyes seem to
search him, "Yeah, I need some help getting home." This time the
cough is exaggerated. "Thanks, pal."
Travis
lets his shoulders slump, giving a look skyward that just begs 'why me?' before
walking over to offer a shoulder to Chase. "You don't make a habit of
this, do you?" He's not the crazy
one! It's everyone else! One hand is
dragged through his bangs, pushing them back in what has to be the most futile
effort he could ever make. "I don't know who you think I am, but I'm not.
Must have one of those faces or something." He has an entire bag full of excuses and reasons, don't make him
use them! "You know, this might work a lot better if I knew where we were
going."
Chase
is going to be sneaky. Wow! Wouldn't all the rest be proud of him. Maybe, just
maybe... if they see Namame here, they won't get all pissy about Chase's recent
adventure. Well, that thought does flash momentarily, among all the others
about the fact that this simply /has/ to be who he thinks it is, feels it is.
The teenager still winces though at the shoulder, drawing in a breath through
his teeth. "Well, not all /that/ regularly. Just when provoked by oni.
Although I bet anything that.... aniki will do the same when he sees me."
He flickers a glance askance to Travis, "Just keep going straight."
"Riiiight.
You're going to get it for th.. never mind." Denial, Travis, denial!
It's all about suppression, and he's just going to do that with those
little dream flashes that try to call themselves memories. "Straight, right. This is going to sound real stupid, but..
oni?" Cluelessness is his best
friend right now. Namame pauses for a
moment, a side glance going to Chase before he follows the direction
indicated. "Well, at least it
wasn't a drunk fight."
Mandarin
Plaza - 502
Sparse
living at its finest, or worse. The wood flooring once had a luster to it, but
has now faded with time to match the same dull facade that gives eggshell-hued
walls its worn appearance. As the home of a student, books are an obvious
presence. Threadbare couch, simple table and chairs, a tiny kitchen and an even
tinier bathroom, A door that leads to the bedroom is off to one side. But it is
the additions that seem to give this places its character. Like the expensive
stereo system just over there flanked by a couple of towers of CDs, or the
dreamcatcher by the window that overlooks the fire escape and the street below,
or even the simple bow propped up near the door, and the clearly old and
hand-crafted quiver settled beside it.
Obvious
exits:
Exit
Chase
leads Travis up to his place, the taxi-ride, walk, whatever, finally getting to
the last of the boy's reserves. Fitting the key to the lock, he opens up the
door and then slaps a hand against the wall to hit the lights. "Oni.
Uhm... I suppose you could call them a gang of sorts? I dunno." He shrugs
his shoulder, waiting to make sure Travis enters so he can close that door.
"And no, I sure wasn't drunk. Last time I got drunk I ended up with a
tattoo and Inami..." *smirk* "Inami wrote something about Nakago on
my stomach." That was BAD. He keeps an eye on Travis as he speaks.
Travis
is really trying to process this, he is. Still, 'trapped' as he is, he doesn't
have any other option but to listen.
"Gang? There's a lot of them.
And there he goes with the names again. "Look, you can see I'm not
this person you thought I was. See?"
His hair is pushed back again so that his eyes are clearly visible. "Not the one.. tattoo?" No, he's not going to ask. "Look, I got you here, so I'll go. Stay
away from stairs.. just take the elevator or something." People are strange.
Chase
falls back against the door, hard. Most to keep Travis in, some because
standing takes too much effort. "Ow." That doesn't help the welts on
his back any. Eyes shut through the brief flash of pain before he is peering
back over to his current guest. Two can play at this game, "Not the one
what? Ohhhhh, you mean the /other/ tattoo thing? Yeah, I've got one of those
too, but it is damn difficult to show. Although, you know... Hikitsu got
himself a tattoo recently as well. Just right there." He points down at
the floor of the living area. "I'll be damned if Hatsui didn't take him
back to that time, and then bring him back here. He lost his eye, but he gained
quite a bit more." Still he watches Travis.
Oh,
that did it. "Look, just move. I
got you here, you're still messed up, but there's nothing I can do about
that." No, Travis isn't panicking.
"Just move, because you're more of a nut than I am." The thing is, if you get Namame agitated
enough, something is going to happen. It's not always bad, because he can keep
himself mostly under control, it's just
always interesting. "I told you.
I'm not who you're looking for. ..just stop talking about this."
Chase
can be obstinate like certain other people when he wants to. He apparently
wants to right now. "No. I'm not. Look... /Namame/, if I'm so much of a
nut, then why is it that I'm getting this warm, fuzzy feeling. And why is it
that you look a hell of a lot like a
certain someone from a different place, eh?" Where is Anana? She is so
much better at fixing broken sei than he is. He is just supposed to stand there
and... be there for moral support. "I bet you know who I am, but you're
too damn screwed up to say it."
"Because
you're... Damnit!" Travis has such
a wonderful way of dealing with things like this. "/I'm/ screwed up?
You're the one standing there against the door not letting a stranger
out of /your/ place. You're more screwed up than I am!" There's a moment of calm, and it seems as if
Namame has chosen a different tactic.
"Alright, then. We're both delusional, but I doubt that there's
enough medication in the city to take care of it. So, you're ready to
move?"
Chase
isn't moving. In fact, it is more of a slow slump down the length of the door
until he is sitting on his rear, leaned up against it. His head rocks back,
again the wince, "You just keep on yelling. Some time or another you are
actually going to finish saying something that makes sense, and then you'll be
right in with the rest of us. Hell, are we going to have to have /Hatsui/ jump
in your head and muddle around too? Or are you going to accept what's going on
in there. Sure, I'm awfully fuzzy now and again, but come /on/. Who am I?"
There
it is again. Travis could really do without this at the moment, and it shows as
he gives up on getting Chase to move and sits down a short distance from
him. "Stop, alright? No one's
getting into my head." Because
it's a mess in there. "Because
she's not real, and this isn't happening." There's a moment's pause as Namame closes his eyes only to open
them again to gaze at the rather beat up seishi. "Tomite? Have I told you what a pain in the ass you can
be?"
It
takes a moment, and then comes the crooked smile. Chase grins across to Travis,
a little hazy. "Ahhhhh, there you go. And you aren't the first, nor will
you be the last to say that." Pleased as anything, he continues to grin.
Well, but then it does indeed get fuzzy. "Now you just sit there and think
real hard about the rest of those names, and so help me... if you aren't still
in here when I wake up later... I tell on you to aniki." His eyes drift
shut as he still remains propped up by the door. But in the next second they
flare open, "If the cops call, I'm not here." Okay, now he can close
his eyes again. Sure, Travis could probably climb out the window and use the
firescape if he was so inclined, but still. Whether passing out or simply
falling asleep, Chase is finally out.
Travis
just shakes his head. "No, but I'm going to say it a lot." Loudly, and with great creativity, most
likely. "Tell on m.." Never mind, that's enough to get him to go
absolutely nowhere! "I don't think any drug's going to take care of
this." True, he could climb out of
the window, and down the fire escape, but he's been warned. "Alright,
alright, I'll stick around. Just don't fall asleep by th.. Never mind,
then." Well, it won't be the first
time that two seishi have been passed out on the floor.