So, now what?
This was the major burning question on the mind of Carthrat, the erstwhile social gamer on the Soulriders forums, currently having undergone a social adjustment to...um, sociopath.
Australian gamer to Chinese Triad enforcer in one fell swoop-but not ONLY that, but also in what appeared to be the far future. Fortunately, Vicious being on Callisto was something of a painfully obvious hint as to what was happening, and SUPPOSED to happen and after some muddling, Carthrat was going through the motions effectively enough.
Still, this left him at something of loose ends, as the questions of 'Why, Who, How, What, etc' had yet to be answered regarding his presence in a body that was not his own.
All this swirled around in his mind as he awoke for the day, thankfully alone in the nearly comically opulent Hotel room, and greeted the menacing figure pictured sprawled out on silk sheets in the mirror above his bed. And with the clues still a rarity, he was left to decide what to do for the day once again, as the meet with 'Gren' was supposed to be a day off yet...
Pulling himself out of the bed and rapidly dressing himself, 'Vicious' went through his usual morning ritual.
You are not a happy man! You are an UN-happy man! You hate everything, and everyone! Rawr!
Satisfied that his facial expression was locked into something matching his thoughts, he started to consider the details of the upcoming deal, as best as he recalled.
Who was on Callisto?
Where was there to go on Callisto?
Just what was the timeframe he was looking at?
And what was he doing on Callisto?
The answers were obvious in some cases, but in others, he only had his newfound, fragmented memories to draw on.
Obviously, himself, Gren, and Lin were on Callisto.
But the show didn't have any exciting places to go on the freezing rock.
Though he was dealing with Gren tomorrow, there were probably tighter timeframes than 'just call me anytime during the day, I'll be there!'
And, well, that was really up to him.
Getting dressed was a rather mundane experience...save for that it involved a trenchcoat and a katana, much like a 'Highlander' extra.
Vicious had several options, really-the hotel was clearly of the overly subservient variety, as the minibar and champagne hinted at, though the note suggested that the champagne was an attempt to curry favor.
No one had come to fetch him, or anything of that nature, so while he was left in relative peace, and no 'mistakes' in his cover would be obvious to the world at large, he was also at loose ends as far as his 'mission' on Callisto, and how to go about it.
A vaguely meancing howl rang from outside, wind screaming against the solid walls of the building as a diffident sounding knock resounded against the door to Vicious' room.
Vicious straightens out his face once again, adopting, if not a menacing visage, at least a cool, flat one.
Walking quietly to the door, he peers through the little hole in the middle to see who it is.
There's a hotel bellman standing there, distorted as he is by the peephole, and holding something in his hand. He's a little older than the teens typically employed in this sort of job, but he's young enough-probably Lin's age, and he looks bored-perhaps he doesn't know who's staying here?
"Yes?" asks Vicious, through the door.
"Phone message, sir!" The bellhop straightens to attention, facing the door and saluting crisply.
"What is it?" he replies, glancing (confusedly) at his own phone.
"Just a number to call when you're available, and they suggested it was urgent." The Bellhop responds dutifully, his voice taking on a somber cast. "Also, they said to mention someone...she said 'Tom' would find what she had to say crucial."
"Alright," responds Vicious, opening the door a crack for the bellboy to give the number with.
On cue, a white index card probes into the room, writing visible on it-clutched by a pair of fingers. Slam the door on them-wait, no, counter productive. Still, the proffered card awaits...
Vicious takes the card, mumbles something that resembles a thankyou, and closes the door once he's done.
Scanning the card for the number, he saunters towards his phone, feeling terribly fatalistic. People tend to get that way when thrust into situations they don't think they'll easily live through.
With a rolling shrug of his shoulders and a heavy sigh, he picks up the device and dials in the number.
This...This is not a local number.
It consists of approximately fifteen digits, five of which are letters, and is labeled simply-'Carthrat'.
On the other hand, who knows what passes for a local number, here? Still, being topped with his former internet nick is fairly noteworthy in itself. Careful dialing is rewarded with peculiar tones-not unlike the randome, 'Bugs Bunny-esque' noises an old, dial-up modem makes. When the 'modem' finally connects, Vicious is treated to the sound of a woman's voice. Mature, but not old, and rich in tone-though vaguely exasperated.
"Hello, Carthrat."
"Hey there. Are you the one with the exposition?" asks Vicious, politely.
"That would be me. But you haven't earned the full story, yet." She replies, the smile in her voice fully audible. "You have a few things to do yet-fortunately, the pieces are finally in place. Be in the alley behind Gren's club at eleven twenty three AM. Things will finally start falling in place. Call me back tonight, and I'll give you the full story."
"Ah, so this is the 'cryptic message of useless'. A staple of the genre," replies Vicious, sarcastically. "Why should I?"
"There's no rule stating that you must." She admits. "Suffice it to say that I want you to, and this has to be set up in a very precise way so that you don't apply ingenuity in incovienient waysbefore I'm ready to turn you completely loose."
That hangs in the air for a moment, and she frowns. "Also, if the promise of going home isn't enough to motivate you, I'm prepared to be threatening, but I'd rather not."
"Aha! I'm to be your willing pawn!" replies Vicious, blandly. "Going home is overrated. I've already been thinking about how to ditch this whole Vicious thing and make some other way in society.
"What I'm trying to say, basically, is fuck that. Tell me what the hell you're trying to do. Or, you know, I'll just not go to spite you. Gonna kill me?"
On cue, the world rumbled, and Vicious was thrown flat on his back, slamming against the carpet as the building shook as though being kicked by an excessively large, and petulant child.
Crashes and yells could be heard from downstairs, and the world rocked for almost a full minute, the chandelier on the hotel's ceiling shaking loose and crashing to the floor less than a foot from Vicious' head, scraping his cheek with glass fragments.
Finally, the shaking stopped, and the reciever spoke from near his ear. "Yes." She replied, blandly. "Admittedly, I can't enter your worlds directly, but I -can- influence time and causality within them. Unfortunately, the effects are rather ham-handed, and lacking in subtlety-which brings me to you. Shall I bring the hotel down on your head, and try a less arrogant agent?"
"Like I was SAYING... go fuck yourself," replies Vicious, pulling himself to his feet.
"I did a lot of soul-searching over the past couple of days, locked in the safety of my own bedroom, and realised that I'm gonna die sooner or later. You do realise how bad you are at coercion, right? God- and I'm using god as a term of address- it must be a REALLY BAD THING you're not telling me, seeing as you'd prefer to threaten me with death- and not tell me. It'd be more effective if you threatened me with death, and told me.
"In the name of truth, justice, and manliness, I refuse to do as you ask without an explanation beyond 'lolz I'm god, DO IT'."
"Hmm. Flattering as your assumption is, I'm not god. Not even close." She replies, blandly. "I've made a few, though. At any rate, despite what you seem to think, you're not important enough for me to cave to your demands-but I can't deny the truth in your petulance either, so I'll be as clear as I can."
"I do not have the patience to brief all three of you seperately. I have arranged for you all to be in the same area, and of the three, you are currently in the most comfortable position, financially, and...socially." She makes an irritated grunt of dissatisfaction. "One is currently in jail, and the meet I've arranged behind Gren's club will lead you to him...her." She amends. "This one was my fault entirely. As I said, I have trouble introuducing subtle changes to the worlds you're in, so her entry was...clumsy, and she got in trouble through no fault of her own. I've set in motion a third series of events to lead you to the other, and the hangers on. Once you have all of them in one place, I will give you all the details you want."
There was a long pause. Vicious could hear hurried voices and footsteps rushing about beneath him before she spoke again, a light tone, without a hint of malice, conversational and pleasant. "I'm willing to be as reasonable as I can beyond this, but there are two things to consider. I'm bound by some rules myself. You can ask, but there is a distinct possibility that either I cannot deliver, or you cannot pay the necessary price. And secondly, I'm pressed for time. Please regard my time as valuable as you would your own."
"Christ, you're bad at this," mutters Vicious, away from the phone, before re-applying it to his face. "So, before I make a decision, let me be absolutely clear; you're not telling me anything because you are lazy.
"That's so retarded I believe it. Sure, I'll come along to hear the exposition, then. It better be good, I mean, after you give me the exposition, there's no turning back! If you killed me after that, it'd be too much work to transplant more souls AND explain things!"
While he's talking, Vicious looks at... his watch.
Well, she's not kidding about the time, at least. According to Vicious' watch, a functional, smallish athletic model, it's roughly ten minutes after ten oclock.
"I heard that, you know." She replies, deadpan. "If it helps to think of me as lazy, by all means. And yes, I'm not precisely a people person. It's almost ten thirty, and this goddamn hangover won't go away."
"But ultimately, I'd prefer not to kill anyone. There's a karmic price for that, and I'm not too eager to pay it-but on the other hand, it's a rather small price compared to the rather corrosive effect on the multiverse you're in that my...belongings are having, and there's a limit to what I can bring myself to put up with." There's a certain testiness in her tone, now. "I'm not asking you to be in awe, or reverence. Just consider it a business arrangement, and we'll discuss payment when the others are in your presence. Can you do that, or do you have more pompous arguments to put forth?"
"You don't want to kill anyone and I'm breaking the world by being here? Why didn't you say so in the first place? Geez. I never got that about any authority figure I ever had. It's always 'Do this! Because I said so-' oh wait that's exactly what you did, my mistake.
"There are all sorts of things wrong with this. I'd make a much better omnipotent figure than you, but I guess I'd better go before you say more threatening things, or shake your hips or stop time or whatever."
While he's talking, Vicious tries to remember if he knows where Gren's cafe is!
If he does, he hangs up, grabs his stuff, whatever it might be, and begins leaving the room!
If he doesn't, he says, "But you do realise I can't actually go there 'cos I don't know where it is? It'd be real sad if all your plans were ruined 'cos I got lost, you know? Also, I'm breaking up! TCHHCHHCHCHHCH! Your THCH quake bro- THCHTH something, THCTCHTell me fast!"
"I told you, I'm not God-Oh, forget it." She sighs. "And unless you're declaring yourself my belongings, It's not you that's 'breaking the world' as you so inaccurately put it. Maybe I should drop the hotel on your just for the satisfaction it'd give me." She mutters wanly. "Anyway, nevermind. Just so long as you're on your way, so I can go make a pot of coffee." She sighs, and rather abruptly hangs up.
(Hmm. Contact me whenever we're both awake, and roll a mind check in #mk to see if you remember where the club is)
"Do you not hear a word I say?" mutters Vicious, placing the phone back on the hook himself. "Possession, right, that's why I'm being carted around like a crate, and she's making coffee. Stupid bitch... fuck, now I can't get coffee because of that stupid quake!"
Justifiably frustrated by the entire chain of events thus far, Vicious starts storming out the room.
OOC: Sure, whenever...
OOC: roll 2d8
[21:08] * Hatbot --> "Makoto rolls 2d8 and gets 7." [2d8=3, 4]
-1 Pass
[20:54] * Hatbot --> "Makoto rolls 2d6 and gets 5."[2d6=4, 1]
-3 pass.
Fortunately, both rolls passed. But I did give you the instructions for a d8 post-human game, didn't I? Or was it d6? (This memory gap is not promising...)
IC:
And the day begins! Okay, so it technically began a little while ago, but our intrepid hero...er, gangster leaves his room in something of a foul mood. upon entry to the hallway, there appears to be no blatant damage to the structure itself, though lamps and tables and chairs and other furnishings have been overturned, and the opulence of the hotel is in chaos as people rush around to try and fix things, most struggling to keep out of Vicious' way as they do.
There's even an injury or two, though no one looks seriously hurt. Vicious' mind is understandably elsewhere, though. He's had occasion to peruse the city, and a vague memory of where the club is surfaces in his mind-it's about five minutes away by vehicle, and perhaps a ten minute walk at a brisk pace.
OOC: Hmm? Well, I know that I need to roll two dice and get under something, that's the whole system, right? I figure I'll look up other things as they come into play. Common sense, may it win the day!
IC: Grumpily stalking outside, Vicious starts making his way to the buildings clumped around the cafe Gren plays at. It's probably best that he goes alone, and he just stays away from the actual street Gren is on, trying to locate somewhere that looks to have a suitable vantage point of the area from the surrounding blocks.
Vicious walks the streets, braving the biting cold. It's awfully pretty here, in a snowbound gothic sort of way.
Depressing, though. Gloom is the order of the day, atmoshpere grey and opressive, choking passersby like a fist. The snow crunches underfoot as you walk, breath misting merrily...the scenery is available to look at, not that you'd want to. Despite being pretty, it's really all rather bland...until the ordinary construction gives way to the more ramshackle hodgepodge of buildings that make up the downtown area, and the day seems to turn darker and more angry as Vicious approaches the club, and it comes into view suddenly, almost as though popping out at Vicious.
Blowing a frosty breath, Vicious leans against the side of one of the nearby tenements. Black and white himself, he doesn't stand out too much... apart from his immaculate dress.
Rather than advance closely towards the cafe, he lurks near the end of the street, as world-weary as any of the other inhabitants around here, taking note of all the nearby alleys and entrances, in case a quick exit is called for.
The Architecture isn't particularly imaginative, here. The Club, proclaimed as 'Blue Crow' by a neon sign out front, is a square building among other square buildings. The only blatantly obvious shady feature is the alleyways. All the buildings in the area are connected by alleys between, and if the look on the way in was any indication, behind the buildings. A perfect setting out of the public eye for small time deals of an extralegal sort, or merely a hiding place for those that don't fit in-though what sort of person might not fit into a place like this is a definite mystery.
No one comes and goes in the time that Vicious is watching the club, though it -is- a bit odd that it's open this time of the morning. Still, business seems poor today. The only real sign of life was a flicker of movement in the alleys behind the club just as he approached, but all was still now.
It was probably poor every day.
Who'd want to live in this crapheap of a town? And how did people get there in the first place? These weren't pressing questions, but the entire place was such a slum.
No women, no children, no anything. What a worthless waste of a city. It hadn't been having a good effect on the bleak-faced rogue. The structure of the place made it.. hard to care. Hard to see beyond it.
It was more like purgatory. A waiting room for sinners.
'Vicious', as he'd started thinking of himself for the sake of sanity, moodily stared at the walls. Safety seemed like such a joke, suddenly, and simply waiting did wonders to ruin alertness.
Fortunately, nothing untoward happened to threaten the wonderful mood. The occaisional drunk wandered by, but most people had better places to be, this time of day.
Unfortunately, as it stood, the buildings on either side, and directly behind the club were commercial buildings as well, short and squat and with only front windows available. Though, on the street behind, there was a building that looked like it might suit. It wasn't very tall, but it looked like apartments, and it offered a view into the back alley. Though what kind of view wasn't certain, as the building itself sat diagonal to the Blue Crow, leaving vantage as uncertain at best.
If worst came to worst, he could try the roof.. it's not like anyone would be looking up there, anyway.
Vicious starts to walk around the main streets towards the building, checking his watch as he goes. But, if he's late, he would have trouble caring, anyhow.
Vicious isn't really impeded at all-the apartments look to be mostly abandoned, but there might be a few still occupied here and there, and no one seems to care much about guarding anything but their own little chunk of land. As he ascends to the roof, his watch reads ten to eleven. He's ten minutes early. So much for spiting 'her'...
Though, really, that's what he's doing by not being in front of the cafe proper. He's close enough, now, to see who else shows up there, and to head down there if he feels he should.
The perch on the roof provides a lovely view(Some effort in kicking open the access door, warped shut was required) Vicious can see the half of the alley that's nearest the rear of the Blue Crow, but the back half seems to be a blind spot.
Minutes tick away slowly, the lonely vigil rather uneventful. In fact, it casts the phone call somewhat into doubt-until precisely as Vicious watch strikes eleven, motion in the alley is detected.
A small boy, perhaps ten years old dashes into the alley at top speed, a small package under his arm. Not entirely a strange sight...aside from his clothing. Not only do the bright colors-Yellow and black and green-stand out starkly in the gloom, but the nature of them, a traditional japanese gi and hakama catch one's attention. He darts into the blind spot, and Vicious can see a swirl of old, ratty cloth. Minutes tick by, and a man, tall and thin and sporting a gaudy wool cap enters the alley, looking annoyed.
Still twenty-three minutes to go. Vicious figures it'll take about five to get to the back from this apartment if he goes at a brisk pace, so... he keeps watching for another other newcomers.
The scene below plays out like a silent movie. Or it would if voices weren't distantly audible. The thin man is joined by another friend, and they spend several minutes scouring the alley, even checking the trash cans.
The sounds of cursing are clearly audible, even on the roof. They appear to put a fair bit of vigor into searching the alley, but after a twenty minute, and ultimately fruitless search, they leave, carefully, and looking around as they make their getaway.
The alley returns to silence, the sound of the wind in Vicious's ears the only audible noise. And, at 11:23 exactly, down to the second...the boy emerges again, though his clothes are obscured by a heavy looking cloth wrapped around his body as he heads over to a vent near the rear of the Blue Crow, and begins pulling small objects from his gi and examining them...
Once the men have left, Vicious starts making his way down from the apartment roof, intent on catching up with the child.
Not a difficult task, as it turns out. The trip from the rooftop is rapid, not even a door left to impede progress, this time. There's even a door that empties out into the alley, and Vicious finds himself barely ten meters from the boy.
He's still sitting under the vent, and examining what appears to be between five and eight wallets. He looks up as Vicious opens the door into the alley, locking eyes with him.
OOC:[23:13] * Hatbot --> "Makoto rolls 2d8 and gets 7."12 [2d8=4, 3]]
Vicious is suddenly struck by the boy's resemblance to an anime character. The clothes, tanned skin and dark mop of hair...isn't that Yahiko Myojin?
"Glad to find another anachronism," says Vicious, sarcastically. "You here for her, too?"
Yahiko blink-blinks, puzzlement etched on his face as he looks at Vicious, suspiscion and mistrust sharing space with confusion. "Her who?" He asks, then narrows his eyes. "Wait, are you after Kaoru? Kenshin won't go easy on you when he finds us..." the boy warns, though his face reveals the threat to be largely a bluff-but him letting the heavy cloth drop, and reaching for the shinai attatched to his back is most definitely not bluffing. "And she may be an ugly cow, but you can't have her."
"Ah, I'm mistaken. Sort of. No, I don't have anything against that person, or anyone else." responds Vicious, cocking an eye in wry amusement.
"I don't think they'll find us here, though, which leads me to my question for you; how is it you came to be here?"
"That's a weird question." Yahiko observes sourly. "How did you know we're not from this...place?"
"Well, I wish I could say logical deduction," replies Vicious. "Then I could say... you're Asian in a predominantly caucasian city. You're not an adult, in a city that is lacking children. You're wearing dated clothing that you'd be hard-pressed to find outside a novelty shop. You're carrying a wooden sword instead of a lead pipe. You're clearly absolutely freezing- here-"
Vicious takes off his outer coat, and offers it to Yakiho.
"But, ah, well, I actually know because I'm not from around here either, in a technical sense. So, I'm really as confused as anyone. But I wound up in a better position to try and make sense of it all."
Normally, pride prevents Yahiko from accepting much in the way of charity, but pride doesn't count for a lot when you can't feel fingers or toes. He accepts the jacket wonderingly. "So...You fell off a boat, too?"
"Yeah, well, no. I woke up one day and I was here," replies Vicious, starting to walk off. "Let's not dwell on the details. First, though, let's introduce ourselves. My name's Vicious. Introduction done.
"Second, let's get you some proper clothes. And some shoes."
"..." Yahiko was surprisingly contrite-though being a ten year old in samurai gear in biting cold probably had a fair bit to do with the muting of the attitude, and he wrapped Vicious' coat around himself tightly. "Look...Vicious-san." He said, slowly. "Believe me-It's not that I'm not freezing, but if you're gonna do me a favor, help me get Kaoru out of jail." He mumbled the last part, looking down at the array of stolen wallets on the ground in front of himself.
"I was going to do it myself, but this is taking forever. No one has much money, either. And I really wanted to give pickpocketing up. It's not that I like her or anything, but she is my teacher...and the policeman was looking at her funny."
"Uh-huh? You both fell off the boat?" queries Vicious, raising an eyebrow. "Well, I'll get an explanation later. But you know, I don't think I need much convincing.
"So, what did you do? Or not do? And how much are they asking?"
As well as that, Vicious thinks of anything he was told or discovered about the Callisto police previously.
Not much at all surfaces in general about the police on Callisto. It's primarily known for it's corruption, so it's fairly safe to assume they won't be scooping Vicious up on any outstanding warrants. However, that DOES raise an interesting question. How on earth do a pair of time lost nobodies get the attention of a police force that's made a habit of looking the other way?
Fortunately, Yahiko is extremely forthcoming, if a little cautious with the strange man who looks terribly mean, but acts friendly. "Well, there were sharks, and a guy with grey skin...it's complicated. We dove in the water to fish this little girl out, and the next thing we know, we're soaking wet in a snowbank. I bugged Busu to get moving before we froze to death, and we ducked in the nearest place we found. It turns out to be a really sleazy looking place..." Yahiko frowns. "Sano probably would'a liked it. They all were watching us real close...probably because Kaoru was the only girl in the place. This jerk in a white suit hits on her, and she's kinda high strung at the best of times, and she brains him, and bodyguards start in...It turned into a fight, and we were holding our own, but when the Sheriff showed, He arrested -Kaoru- instead of the sleazeball! What kind of justice is THAT?"
"You're in the wrong city if you're looking for justice," replies Vicious, darkly. "The police here aren't on the side of law, but the side of coin.
"Fortunately, that should make things easy. And you haven't told me your name yet."
While keeping up appearances, Vicious thinks about his own monetary situation. It's true that he's staying in an expensive hotel, but is that out his own funds, a 'company' (hah!) sponsored account, or something he has no control over?
Yahiko blinks, then thumps his chest briskly. "Myojin Yahiko. I'm the son of Tokyo Samurai, and the heir to the Kamiya Kasshin Kenjutsu Ryu." he proclaimed grandly. Well, a warm coat seems to have done wonders for his attitude, at least. Is this a good or a bad thing?
"Easy?" He asks after a moment, blinking at Vicious. "How's that easy? I've been pickpocketing for a day and a half..." He made a disgusted face. "These Woolongs are hard to come by..."
Vicious's monetary situation is comfortable. The Hotel was a 'company sponsored' thing, but he seems to recall rather broad discretionary powers over company accounts...though Lin had mentioned anything over one hundred million had to be justified to the old men.
"People don't carry much money around with them," explains Vicious. "So it's natural you wouldn't find much pickpocketing. It's handled by.. um, I'll explain later, it'll take a while.
"Anyway, I can afford it, probably. How much?"
"Oh." Yahiko blinked at Vicious. "I don't know. I wasn't around to hear, remember?" He started out sounding sarcastic, but halfway through, his tone shifted to contrite. "Sorry, I just don't like this place much."
"Uh-huh. Well, then. FIRST I'll get some clothes for you AND her. She'll need 'em, too.
"Then I'll saunter over to the station, and see what needs doing. For what it's worth, this place is a craphole, and it only gets better from here."
So saying, Vicious starts going about doing that, favouring large coats that obscure features (and gender) for the two of them. Once he completes his shopping expedition, he heads to where he recalls the police station is.
What a peculiar experience. Shopping with, and for a ten year old boy is a rather...domestic experience, entirely at odds with Vicious' current employment, but After some fussing in the shop, Yahiko is outfitted far less conspiciously. Save for the Shinai he refuses to give up.
It's rather simple to position the boy appropriately, leaving him in an alley after schooling him briefly on an appropriate pose.
Taking the bag and the second set of clothes with him, Vicious heads into the police station.
Nothing impedes his way, and on entering, he finds a nominally maintenanced, reasonably clean station-quiet, but running smoothly. an older man with a greying buzz cut, and a general shape suggestive of a potatoe sitting at the desk wearing a uniform declaring his rank as Sargeant.
"Sergeant," begins Vicious, stepping inside.
"It's my understanding that a woman was arrested for.. public disturbance, recently. How long will the term of her stay be?"
The old man looks up at Vicious. And it is worth noting that this is not a pleasant experience for either side. This man is UGLY. Beady, flinty little eyes, deep-set into a fleshy, florid face, which twists almost immediately into a rictus of fear-probably recognition, but with a face that fat, who can tell?
"Ah...Uhm...We've been...um, 'contracted' to hold her and soften her up a bit until Mister Delicious comes for her." He reports, cringing back a little into his seat. The name tag on his uniform reads 'Salvador'.
"Interesting. What are your usual terms for contracting?" responds Vicious, looking supremely uninterested.
"With a solid pretext f-for arrest, we c-can hold someone indefinitely...s-so it's usually a S-storage fee...Unless it's someoneone important, we c-charge one hundred thousand woolongs per month."
Vicious continues to maintain his sunken expression, placing one hand on the desk. "Are you the sort of man who takes better work where he finds it, sergeant?"
"..." 'Salvador' hesitates for a long time. "So long as I'm not sticking my neck out too far, I make it a policy to never turn down an offer..." he replies, carefully. Ew. Wary fatso is possibly even uglier than 'scared spitless'. The Stammer and fear fade a little as he eyes Vicious questioningly.
"This station. It's not too secure," responds Vicious, idly. "And that woman had a kid friend. Bit of a sneak.
"Oh, I'm not saying your VIGIL is lapsing, sergeant. I'm just saying that with two-hundred thosuand woolongs, you'd be able to improve your facilities, so no kid ever let out some broad again. What would you say the weakest link you'd need to improve right now is?"
The beady little eyes narrow, but he appears to catch on. "I would say that would do nicely to go toward a better surveillance system for the station...But I'd be more inclined to spend a little more...say, two hundred seventy five...you see, a desk clerk's sidearm is only standard issue, and if certain people got it into their heads it was my fault for letting the child past anyway..."
"If you are done with the inane metaphor, then let us conclude this," replies Vicious, sharply. "You will have your scraps when the woman is let out. Needless to say, if anything should happen to her or the sneak..."
"Understood! Yessir!" The Sergeant stiffened. "I will be very attentive, but it is hard to see what goes on in the back, where her cell and the rear entrance are!"
"Indeed. And the lock?" continues Vicious, raising an eyebrow.
"-is nothing special, and can be picked without much effort!" He replies sharply, his voice cracking a little. "The cell door's key seems to have gone missing." He adds, placing a silver, OLD looking key on the desk in front of himself.
"At ease. I'm glad we're working together on this," replies Vicious, turning around and starting outside.
When he catches up with Yakiho... "Seems like you get to be the hero, Myojin-san," he muses, handing over the key. "I had a little chat with the owner. If you go around the back-" he gestures to the area- "You'll find it easy to slip in. Think you can take it from there?"
"..." Yahiko takes the key, marvelling at it, and looking up at Vicious. "Thanks." He murmured in a strange voice. "I feel kina weird about this, but...alright. I'll bring her back here. Just don't get any weird ideas, like the white suit guy did." Yahiko warned, and headed off at a dead run, angling to slip behind the police station...
This is so stupid. Would it have killed her to tell me who I'm dealing with beforehand?
Vicious sits darkly on a step near where Yakiho sad before, glowering at nothing in particular as he waits for the kid's return.
Don't wanna deal with another gang... don't want to let Kaoru rot... I guess this is the better of two things. Either way, I'm so in for it already. Guess I just need to make the most of it.
I wonder if that woman is watching. I'll figure that out when I call her tonight...
It was rather a credit to Yahiko that he returned in less than thirty minutes, with someone in tow. It was somewhat LESS to his credit that they were having a spirited (read: loud) Conversation on their way to where he was waiting.
"Can't you be a little grateful?"
"I -am- grateful! I said thank you. Twice, as I recall. What I wanted to know was who bought you the clothes, and how you got the key." The speaker was young, female, and instantly recognizable. Sort of. The voice marked Kaoru, but the way she talked sounded...off. Perhaps because they weren't full out brawling, at this point?
"I told you, I met a guy that would help-and you should be glad I did. Pickpocketing bail money was taking forever."
"Okay. But who? The people on this moon don't look exactly trustworthy, you know?"
It was right about at this point that the pair appeared in the mouth of the alley. Sure enough, expectations were right on the money. Though perhaps slightly disconcerting, as there was no way Kaoru was over nineteen. However, a wrinkled and dissheveled kimono, ponytail and the trademark ribbon were all in place. She could have stepped right out of the pages of the manga...
Vicious picks himself up off the ground.
May this be worth it.
"Afternoon," he says, dryly. "Do keep arguing about illegal activity out the front of the station."
If 'worth it' is defined as seeing Kamiya Kaoru jump nearly a foot in the air, then this most definitely was, for that is exactly what she did, and let out an expeletive that had Yahiko's jaw dropping as she grabbed at the shinai strapped to his back.
"Are you really Kaoru?" queries Vicious, arching a knowing eyebrow at her. "I would've thought you'd have more.. manners when greeting a stranger."
Vicious himself doesn't make a move to draw his own sword. In fact, he makes very few movements at all.
"Are you really Vicious?" The rattled girl glares back, one hand on Yahiko's weapon, but she stops short of ripping it off of his back and leveling it at Vicious. "I'dve though you would be less concerned with manners."
Yahiko stared at Kaoru. "Wait, you know him?"
Karou blinks, looking back at Yahiko, then quickly at Vicious. "I've heard...stories." She replies to the boy, lamely.
"They make a conveniant metaphor," he replies, blandly. "As for who I really am, let's just say that I'm being the best Vicious I can be. If I slip up.. well, I won't last long."
"Anyway. Put on the coat Yakiho brought you. You stand out too much, especially in the kimono. I need to transfer your... bail money to the station, and then I'll fill you in on what I know about the situation."
Kaoru stared, then nodded slowly, seemingly for the lack of anything else coherent to say, accepting the coat Yahiko handed over and fumbling to pull it on. Her eyes never left him, suspiscious, startled and intensely curious all at once.
Walking back down the streets, Vicious takes a moment to transfer the necessary money (2.75, as agreed on) to the station, and then proceeds back towards the shellshocked hotel.
"I was told to go to a certain place at a certain time by a certain female," he begins, speaking mainly to Kaoru. "Aside from being intolerably cryptic, she seemed in a hurry, and after a rather... persuasive argument, I did as she asked.
"Lucky I did, I guess, because I found Yakiho there, and Yakiho told me about you. Your mysterious benefactor didn't tell me much else about what's going on... I do know she's trying to gather 'agents' together, to go clean up some mess she made.
"Without our knowledge or consent, of course..."
Yahiko followed along, and Kaoru, her mood seeming improved by leaps and bounds with the coat on, gave Vicious a wary look. "I seem to have read this scenario before. Somewhere." She commented. "This...uh...'She' didn't say anything else?"
"She said that I'm expendable," adds Vicious, helpfully. "And she almost knocked my hotel down with an earthquake because I questioned her divine wisdom."
"Oh. Well, it's good to know she's easily annoyed. Or maybe you have a way with people." Kaoru gave Vicious a look. "Shouldn't you be seething at the affront to your...um, reputation, or something?"
"Nobody knows but you," replies Vicious, tartly. "I'm already ruining my reputation just by helping you."
Actually, I have a pretext for that if anyone asks, lady. But you don't wanna hear it.
"But that's the right idea. I simply cannot afford to *not* think like Vicious would. You, on the other hand, get to be yourself, so to speak. I'm kind of jealous."
"One, that's not entirely true." Kaoru murmured in low tones, with a sidelong glance at Yahiko, then pitched her voice a little more conversationally. "And I seem to recall that there's precident for...you spiriting..." She gritted her teeth slightly, "...women away for one reason or another."
"Good. Maybe nobody will ask, then," replies Vicious, flatly. "Not that I need to answer to anyone on Callisto."
"Look, it's not my intention to do anything horrible. I've been able to play along so far. Tonight, I'm going to call that woman back, and she'll outline... things... to us. Hopefully. In any case, we don't have a choice but to stick together."
"Remember what I said about Kenshin." Yahiko piped up to Vicious, suddenly, prompting an abrupt blush and an irritated exclamation from Kaoru.
"Stop bringing him up! He's not going to try and get me in bed!" She hesitated, narrowing her eyes. "Are you?"
"Yeah, no. Any other stupid questions?"
Kaoru nodded to herself, relaxing and turning away from Vicious, shrinking down into her coat until the collar swallowed her chin and mouth, streams of steaming breath trailing from her nose. "How did she 'persuade' you?"
"First, she was the first person to know what's going on around here," starts Vicious. "We talked over the phone.. she knew my 'real' name, though I guess I'm not using it anymore.
"Second, she's capable of causing seismic mayhem. Actually, she apparently can't do things on a small scale... I figure I could hide from that, if I needed to. But since I'm looking to work out what's going on and what direction I should take next, it seemed as good an idea as any to do as she says.
"But I still don't trust her. Probably like you don't trust me. That's healthy, though."
Kaoru shot Vicious a sharp look at the mention of a 'real' name, but she looked at Yahiko shortly after, and didn't press the point.
"So you're looking to...start over here, then." She inquired, cautiously.
Vicious rubs his eyes a little.
"Maybe. At the very least, if I have to work for someone, I'll be upset if all I get out of it is a return to the statis quo."
Yahiko snorted audibly at that, and Kaoru rolled her eyes. "Not everyone thinks like he does, Yahiko."
"More people should." The boy replied stoutly.
"That's not for you to decide." Kaoru pointed out, then eyed Vicious. "So what are you expecting to get out of it, then?"
Vicious pauses, and suddenly turns around and stares at Kaoru with oddly hungry eyes.
"I'm not sure. All I know is that a curtain's been pulled back from my eyes, and I'll be damned if I let it drop again."
He abruptly starts, and wipes a hand across his face, exhaling slowly. "Ah.. I'm sorry. I really don't know. First of all, I'd like to know what's possible."
He turns around and continues walking back to the hotel. "In every sense."
Kaoru stops short, staring at Vicious-the look in her eyes is a strange counterpoint-something in her has been stripped bare enough that the hunger in his eyes shocks her.
She stays rooted to the spot after he begins moving again, finally shaking herself free of the shock, and catching up, but careful about keeping her distance, this time. "...that was creepy." She replies, bluntly.
Vicious doesn't reply to that. A glance at the side of his face reveals that his eyes are pointedly slanted, focusing only on what's directly ahead.
You were always totally smooth. Hey, I know, let's pretend you're out to eat souls, next time! She'll totally believe you. You idiot, Vicious.
Kaoru doesn't seem inclined to make much conversation after that, and an awkward silence passes over the trio.
"Hey, Vicious. Where's this place you're taking us?" Yahiko pipes up suddenly. "These coats are great, but it's still cold..."
"Hotel, for the time being," replies Vicious. "I left some stuff there that I should pick up. But I'm thinking of relocating... in the event of more earthquakes, I think I'd rather be closer to the ground." He snorts.
"So more of the building can fall on you?" Kaoru asks, deadpan, still giving Vicious a puzzled look. "What are you planning on telling the hotel about us?" she asks, looking at the street. The snow is thinner here, and instead of the crunch of snow underfoot, the faint click of boots, specifically Vicious' and Yahiko's, as well as the nearly silent noise of Kaoru's straw...sandals? "If you're incognito, hotels can be picky about more people staying in a room than is paid for."
"So I can get out the building faster," replies Vicious, deadpan right back. "Since I'm pretty sure I'll be able to guess if one's coming or not... hmm. I do want to test something, though. I wonder if she's really omniscient."
Vicious purses his lips, tapping one hand against the mostly-concealed sword to the rear of his belt. Trenchcoats had their advantages, after all.. and glances at Kaoru's feet, his face suddenly becoming uncharacteristically apologetic.
"Ah, fuck, I meant to get you shoes, but I didn't know your size," he says, somewhat shamefaced. "The shop's not far from here. I'll give you the money, don't want your feet getting frostbite or anything.."
Kaoru looks at Vicious askance as he speaks, waiting for what comes next, and looks honestly surprised by the swerve off topic.
"Ah...I, uh..." She looks down at the sandals, and the tabi socks-"Well, they're getting a bit wet. Thank you?" She ventures, eyes wide.
"It's really not a problem..." replies Vicious, handing Kaoru a fistful of woolongs, and then getting a look at her odd expression.
"Er..."
Kaoru takes the money graciously, a tentative nod on reciept, the stunned expression still on her face. "Thank you." She says again, shaking her head a little, blinking and looking at the money, then looking back at Vicious at the 'er'.
"Hmm?"
A litany of quips goes through Vicious' head, but he ends with a "Nothing. It's just down this way," he gestures, leading onwards to the place he picked up Yakiho's clothes and shoes from.
"Right." Kaoru follows a few steps behind, and Yahiko trails, vaguely interested.
The return to the store is fairly quick, as it's on the way back, naturally. It's a nice store, if not particularly ritzy, ordinary racks of clothes and selection, but as Vicious leads Kaoru in, something strikes him.
There are no women's clothes on display. At all. In point of fact, Kaoru's appearance in the doorway is drawing surprised looks from the nondescript men manning the store.
Not just surprised, but all out amazed, really.
Vicious loiters near the edge of the door. "Be quick about it," he asks Kaoru.
At least women get away with wearing men's clothes..
Kaoru hesitates as the two men advance, both wearing smiles, and she clamps a hand tightly on Yahiko's shoulder, eliciting a complaint from the boy, but she doesn't release him.
The pair are dragged off by the salesmen, and some rather loud and animated conversation goes on in the back, only fragments of which make it out to Vicious-not that they have much relevance, other than expressing eagerness on the part of the salesmen, and annoyance on Kaoru's part.
Moments later, they emerge from the back, Kaoru holding a bag, and walking slightly unsteadily on an old looking pair of women's heeled boots.
Yahiko is trotting behind her, doing his best not to burst out laughing.
"Are those practical?" queries Vicious, raising an eyebrow.
"Depends on what you mean by practical." Kaoru replies, sourly. "The smallest available men's shoe is two sizes bigger than my foot, so I'm screwed either way. But they insist that there'll be no falling in these."
"Except the people laughing when they watch you walk." Yahiko added helpfully.
"Shut up!" Kaoru retorted with the air of someone with rapidly fraying patience.
"We could've gone to another shop. But if you insist," replies Vicious, dryly stepping outside, and briefly checking his watch.
Kaoru just glares, then looks down at the boots...they aren't heeled in the classical, hooker sense-it's only a block underneath the heel. "Let's not bother." She sighs. "They're warm enough, and they fit-if I fall down a lot, I'll take you up on it later. I'm not girl enough to want to shop this badly."
Vicious questions this not, and instead, turns back to continue to the hotel.
"Can you tell me anything about the group that propositioned you?" e asks, as if it's a completely normal question.
Kaoru shoots Yahiko an irritated look, but the boy simply shrugs.
She sighs a little as they head back out onto the street. "Picture pretty much any generic Italian thugs in suits, with the leader in a white one, and a skinny, greasy mustache, and a number thirteen tattooed on his neck." She relates, grimacing and shrinking into the coat.
Yahiko gives Kaoru and odd look as she mentions 'Italian' but says nothing.
In other words, completely obvious. "How many?"
"Hard to tell." Kaoru replies. "Only five actually came at us before the 'Police' arrived, but the look of the place could mean any of them were just watching the show."
"Uh-huh. Keep an eye out." murmurs Vicious, starting back to the hotel.
And I thought the only things I'd need to deal with were Gren and Spike.
"Yes, -sir-." Kaoru replies sourly, following Vicious a few steps back, Yahiko trotting along beside her, looking generally confused over a great many things...
OOC- Also to be continued in a new thread! Stay tuned!