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.