Give me feedback or face my wrath! I know where you live and I could end your life!
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Ken pushed the door inwards, overwhelmed by the bustle and noise created by the coffee shop's patrons. Omi was still at home, sleeping, so he had to make this quick and uncomplicated. Get in, say goodbye, get out. No further risks beyond his first obvious one. Now, where was she?
He spotted the back of her dark head, hair feathered out in a way he liked even from behind, even partially obstructed by other people. And he'd be willing to eat his socks if she didn't have the most beautiful back he'd ever seen. She could pull of a tank top in a way he'd never seen another female competently do before. It took effort to immediately pull up images of a sad, huge eyed Omi to offset those perfect shoulder blades. Back in the role of the licentious asshole again.
"Uh, hi." Ken lifted his hand in a feeble wave as he skirted her table, hastily dropping down into the seat across from her.
"Hi! I was starting to wonder if you were planning on skipping out on me!" She flashed him a winning smile. Ken contemplated kicking himself.
"This isn't such a good time. I'm going to have to leave in a few minutes. There are some not so pleasant things going on right now in my life. I'd love to stay and have coffee with you and swap life stories, but I need to get back as soon as I can."
Kakaria pouted prettily. "Is that all the information I'm going to get out of you?"
It was that one question that jolted home what Ken already knew. What could he possibly tell her? The truth was out of the question. She wasn't the sort of girl who'd put up with a shameless murderer, the sort of girl he could ever live a normal life with. He'd passed beyond the boundary of human a long while ago. "Just a lot of family troubles conglomerating into one huge mess."
"Hmm, family issues I can understand." She threw her head back and laughed. "Hell, you've already met my grandmother, and it's easily assumed that the rest of my family is the same. Sometimes I think I'm the only sane one with the capability for avoiding trouble."
Ken kept his opinions to himself. Anyone stupid enough to see something of interest in himself had to be asking for it. Everything he touched eventually fell away into decay. A walking death sentence. Only Omi could survive his attention, bound by the same darkness.
"Shall we reschedule this date then?" Kakaria immediately tried to further things. She was bolder than most people Ken had become used to, excluding Aya, of course. Aya assumed he could do whatever to whomever whenever he felt like it. Granted, that was usually how he managed to get the impossible done...
He tried to sum up all his confused emotions in one sentence, shifted words around in his mind, and gave up. "Sure, we'll exchange phone numbers so I can actually reach you next time. I'll have to wait until things are less hectic before I can make any new plans." He wanted this, for himself. She was everything every one of the girls he'd ever dated had been, but better in a thousand ways. Strong, attractive, intelligent, and most of all audacious; willing to speak her mind and laugh without covering her mouth and appearing embarrassed by her own hilarity, to be the first one to request a date. He would have given his limbs for someone like that before he became involved with Weiss and his new nightlife. Fuck, he'd still give up as many of those members as he could live without. Arms aren't always useful, right?
"Here." Kakaria scribbled down her number on a napkin, using a pen she'd fished from her purse. She even showed signs of being prepared for reasonable difficulties. It'd been eons since he'd run across a female who not only remembered to carry pens around with her, but who also knew right off the bat where it was kept. Organized, capable of at least limited forethought. Granted, he could just be reading unrealistic things into her actions, trying to turn her into some unattainable angel. It wouldn't be the first time he'd done such a thing.
Scribbling down their temporary home phone number and pushing it across the table, he stood. When he leaned down to retrieve Kakaria's contact number, she stretched up and planted a friendly kiss on his cheek. "Heh, well, it's been fun, Kenster, we should do this again sometime, but maybe without the waiting beforehand and perhaps scrapping the part where you run off after four minutes." She wasn't being rude or sarcastic, merely cheerful and joking. Ken wished all people could deal so wonderfully with disappointments.
"I'll second that. I am sorry. I look forward to seeing you again when things calm down." And he really did, Ken realized as he left the shop. He was already thinking about seeing her again, places they could meet up. He didn't have time for this. He had a house to guard, a concussed, confused boyfriend to deal with, and a missing teammate. Not a good time to think about falling head over heels for some girl he met at a grocery store while she was stalking him.
As soon as he pushed open the front door to the house, he was struck by the absolute silence of it all. Immediately giving in to panic, he raced up the stairs, knowing Omi would be gone. They'd waited until he'd left and then they'd made their move, they'd come and taken Omi. It didn't matter who 'they' were, only that they were officially on his AND Aya's shit list.
He smashed their closed door open, panting for breath as he looked about, expecting scattered covers, overturned furniture, some sort of ransom note written in blood. Instead he wound up having to calm down a disoriented and startled Omi, so tangled up in covers that he'd trapped himself in an impromptu cocoon, blissfully asleep until Ken had come pounding towards the scene.
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you!" He hugged Omi, doing his damndest to turn down the situation. "I thought you'd be up by now, and with everything all quiet, I though someone had come and taken you away."
Omi burrowed childishly into his chest. "I was having the nicest dream." He grumped, preparing to drop off into slumber again. "Being loud wouldn't have made me not-gone."
"No, you're right about that." Ken toed off his shoes, maneuvering them both beneath the covers, holding tightly to Omi's sleeping body. "I was still worried though." He closed his eyes, resting his cheek against the top of Omi's head. The second time in as many days that he'd thought Omi to be gone. Maybe it was some sort of sign from above that he needed to stop taking things for granted. Or not. More likely was the fact that his life was just always going to suck and he would always be fearful for the safety of those who mattered to him. Maybe it was a sign he needed to not set up coffee dates with unknown girls when he already had someone waiting at home for him.
"Love you." Ken sighed quietly, nuzzling at soft blonde hair.
"Hmmm." Omi smiled back in his sleep, tucking his own head more tightly under Ken's chin. For a short while, this was a sort of peace.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"What do you want now?" One-Eye fussed loudly, doing his best to make his displeasure clear. "Every time there's trouble somewhere, you and your crazy friends start popping up again, trying to hound an old man to his death. No respect for the venerable, no respect for ME!"
Youji kicked the door shut behind him, locking the door and flipping the "Open" sign over. It was time to play mean. He had no qualms about bullying blind old men. He'd killed a few of those in his day. "I'm looking for a friend of mine. He would have stopped by here, hunting for information about a man known as Ko-ishi, the same one responsible for the torching of our property."
"Ko-ishi died. You should know that." The old man's voice remained steady, not the slightest bit intimidated by Youji's menacing tone.
"I'm not asking about Ko-ishi, I'm asking about my partner in crime." No names were used. They were minor players on the scale of things, Weiss Kreuz was, they hadn't the infamy to need codenames or catch phrases. One-Eye knew who they were, their voices, their demeanor, that was all that mattered.
He signed, tapping his fingers on the counter top in a show of nonchalance. "Yes, he was in here. Ranting and raving in between questions about rented out medical equipment and the activities of a dead man. Care to fill me in on the madness?"
Youji sighed. "I have no information for you, and that shouldn't require an explanation. I don't seek any knowledge outside propriety. I just want to know my friend's next destination."
"You going to leave my store after that?"
"'S a deal."
"I didn't rent out any serious medical equipment, but I did direct him towards another miscellaneous dealer; I can tell you how to reach him, and I also sent him to a purveyor of great knowledge. Between the two of them, he should have found whatever he was asking about."
"He didn't disclose any other intents? He didn't mention any other place he might visit?"
"No."
"Fuck it all. Fine, tell me where to find the two people you referred him to. I need to track him step by step then."
One-Eye grudgingly gave him the information, more out of a tired lack of concern than any actual desire to help or avoid property damage. There were more important things he had to worry about. It wasn't easy being old.
Youji headed for the illicit dealer of all things necessary first. He figured that would be Aya's first stop. He was so hung up on his sister that all prospects tainted by her possible association would come first.
Another frenzied drive through town and he reached "Cobarde's" place of business. Just another beat up, abandoned looking house. Youji was assuming it held a treasure trove of wonders inside. The door was locked, apparently closed for the day. An easily solved problem. What self-respecting assassin was incapable of picking a lock?
Stealthy steps took him through a surprisingly lavish interior, a contrast to the shabby outside of the building. Everything was dead silent; it was hard to fight for absolute soundlessness. The air felt wrong.
It took him a few moments to associate the dark staining on the floor with the dried blood it appeared to be. Youji mentally created a few elaborate curses, pulled his handgun from its shoulder holster and kicked the door to the kitchen open. He promptly had to turn and retch.
The mess hanging over the kitchen table was barely recognizable as human. Hung from the ceiling with steel hooks piercing its shoulders and upper thighs, its chest cavity was opened, bared to the blood stained floor, skin pulled out and stretched into some sort of display, fastened with line leading up to the ceiling supports. Youji didn't check to confirm his suspicions of specifically missing organs or bizarre maiming. The man was hanging in the air with his ribs shining slickly at anyone who cared to get close enough to see. That was more than enough to convince him to leave.
The thought that Aya could be responsible for the atrocity never occurred to him. He would believe Aya to be capable of that sort of focused violence, but who would want to associate the two. Aya wouldn't plan ahead and obtain the devices he'd need for the complex death, would he? Not for someone so far out of the loop from the real problem. Right?
Time to see the woman; the one in the know. She was outside the loop, a non-player. The same as Youji and the gang. No known affiliations, but many hidden sources. One-Eye hadn't had many good things to say about her. Then again, being One-Eye, he had very few good things to say about anyone.
A pretty little apartment building in the middle of the least-rugged downtown area. Not the dive he'd expected. He wound up having to suffer through an over exuberant security guard who insisted the people in the building depended on him to keep out the riffraff. Youji wound up waiting in the lobby for another ten minutes while the guard talked with his woman on the phone in hushed tones. Youji threw in a comment about being sent by One-Eye. It was passed along to the tiny voice on the phone. The voice said something that was apparently derogatory to the security guard's mental state. Youji was allowed up with much reluctance. Life was a bitch.
The door opened on his first knock. A diminutive, non-descript woman ushered him in, shutting the door behind them as quickly as possible.
"Miss, this won't take long, I-"
"Shut up." She snapped at him, voice oddly accented. He tried to place her speech alteration as she stood still, listening for something.
"Explanation?" He inquired when she finally raised a hand in acknowledgment.
"I was making sure you weren't bugged. I will not be spied upon." She frowned darkly at nothing in particular. Youji considered bolting. She wasn't gruesomely murdered, but she did seem to be fairly crazy. He hated dealing with the paranoid; they wore on his patience.
"Right... This won't take long. One-Eye referred me to you. A friend of mine might have visited you today. Red hair, pale skin; a fairly angry man. Sound familiar?"
"You? You're with that rude man?" She stomped her foot. "The Striking Cobra is not used to such treatment." Her arms crossed as she assumed an expression of disdain. Youji took a deep breath.
"Yes, he's rude. Yes, he's demanding. Yes, he's almost as crazy as you appear to be. Let's move on, shall we? I need to know what you told him; what he told you. Do you know where he went after talking with you?" Youji crossed his fingers, hoping she wouldn't list the dead man's store as Aya's next destination. A dead end.
"He seeks the undead." She smiled. Not a nice smile at that. "So do I. He was wrong for the task, but you I will assist. The dead man hides, below the city like the vermin who serve him. I sent the man you seek on the path of his foe, possibly to his death."
"Fucking bitch!" Youji slammed her into the wall, her skull making a satisfying crack against the subtly flowered wallpaper. "If he is dead, then you can rest assured you'll be soon to follow!"
"He is not dead yet. I will help you find him." She wheezed out, still maintaining that bizarre aura of dignity and inhuman knowledge. She gave Youji the fucking creeps. "I hoped you would follow in his wake. I will help you. We leave now." She twisted sharply, kneeing Youji in the stomach and freeing herself from his clutching hands, marching off into another room.
Youji followed. He watched with a mixture of amusement and uncertainty as she strapped numerous weapons on over her conservative business suit, exchanging her low heels for combat boots at the last moment. An odd combination. She couldn't be more than five feet tall. She was crazy. No other option.
She smiled. "Come Kudou, it's time for an adventure." Youji thought for the umpteenth time how absolutely bizarre this was all turning out to be. He was supposed to welcome her along on his trip 'below the city'? He assumed she meant the sewers. Where else would one find vermin, philosophical or otherwise? He didn't even ask how she knew his last name. She was crazy and mystical and all that shit. It didn't bear reasoning.
"Well, this has been pleasant, but I really must be going. I work alone. Thank you for your assistance, but we part ways now." Youji backed out of the bedroom. She pulled a rifle from the assortment of firearms spread across her demure bedspread and pointed it at his skull.
"Now is not a time to balk."
Youji sighed heavily. This was getting older and older every second. "So, you want to join me on this pleasant outing. Fine. You get me to Aya and you avoid having your neck wrung. Now get that thing out of my face before I shove it up into a very unpleasant orifice."
She lowered the weapon.
"So, what am I to call you? Mystical Bitch who Sees All? The Striking Cobra?" He wriggled his fingers mockingly.
"You may call me Fate."
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Hehe, I have trouble keeping things non-humorous. If I can't do things from Youji's sardonic point of view, then I must work it into the plot. Her name isn't really Fate, by the way. She's just sort of uhm... mystical and crazy and all that shit. -sighs- I'm zonked out. Give me yay! I will give you smut and angst and violence and drama in return! Don't you want smut and violence and drama? AND angst! Look at me! Signing my life away. -giggles to self- Gah, I need to go away now before I start saying even more bizarre things. Thanks for all of those who have left me feedback already! Yay for you! NOW GIVE ME MORE! -bites her own arm- RARRR akainobaka@mchsi.com or darkhunter@ijustdontcare.com
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Ken pushed the door inwards, overwhelmed by the bustle and noise created by the coffee shop's patrons. Omi was still at home, sleeping, so he had to make this quick and uncomplicated. Get in, say goodbye, get out. No further risks beyond his first obvious one. Now, where was she?
He spotted the back of her dark head, hair feathered out in a way he liked even from behind, even partially obstructed by other people. And he'd be willing to eat his socks if she didn't have the most beautiful back he'd ever seen. She could pull of a tank top in a way he'd never seen another female competently do before. It took effort to immediately pull up images of a sad, huge eyed Omi to offset those perfect shoulder blades. Back in the role of the licentious asshole again.
"Uh, hi." Ken lifted his hand in a feeble wave as he skirted her table, hastily dropping down into the seat across from her.
"Hi! I was starting to wonder if you were planning on skipping out on me!" She flashed him a winning smile. Ken contemplated kicking himself.
"This isn't such a good time. I'm going to have to leave in a few minutes. There are some not so pleasant things going on right now in my life. I'd love to stay and have coffee with you and swap life stories, but I need to get back as soon as I can."
Kakaria pouted prettily. "Is that all the information I'm going to get out of you?"
It was that one question that jolted home what Ken already knew. What could he possibly tell her? The truth was out of the question. She wasn't the sort of girl who'd put up with a shameless murderer, the sort of girl he could ever live a normal life with. He'd passed beyond the boundary of human a long while ago. "Just a lot of family troubles conglomerating into one huge mess."
"Hmm, family issues I can understand." She threw her head back and laughed. "Hell, you've already met my grandmother, and it's easily assumed that the rest of my family is the same. Sometimes I think I'm the only sane one with the capability for avoiding trouble."
Ken kept his opinions to himself. Anyone stupid enough to see something of interest in himself had to be asking for it. Everything he touched eventually fell away into decay. A walking death sentence. Only Omi could survive his attention, bound by the same darkness.
"Shall we reschedule this date then?" Kakaria immediately tried to further things. She was bolder than most people Ken had become used to, excluding Aya, of course. Aya assumed he could do whatever to whomever whenever he felt like it. Granted, that was usually how he managed to get the impossible done...
He tried to sum up all his confused emotions in one sentence, shifted words around in his mind, and gave up. "Sure, we'll exchange phone numbers so I can actually reach you next time. I'll have to wait until things are less hectic before I can make any new plans." He wanted this, for himself. She was everything every one of the girls he'd ever dated had been, but better in a thousand ways. Strong, attractive, intelligent, and most of all audacious; willing to speak her mind and laugh without covering her mouth and appearing embarrassed by her own hilarity, to be the first one to request a date. He would have given his limbs for someone like that before he became involved with Weiss and his new nightlife. Fuck, he'd still give up as many of those members as he could live without. Arms aren't always useful, right?
"Here." Kakaria scribbled down her number on a napkin, using a pen she'd fished from her purse. She even showed signs of being prepared for reasonable difficulties. It'd been eons since he'd run across a female who not only remembered to carry pens around with her, but who also knew right off the bat where it was kept. Organized, capable of at least limited forethought. Granted, he could just be reading unrealistic things into her actions, trying to turn her into some unattainable angel. It wouldn't be the first time he'd done such a thing.
Scribbling down their temporary home phone number and pushing it across the table, he stood. When he leaned down to retrieve Kakaria's contact number, she stretched up and planted a friendly kiss on his cheek. "Heh, well, it's been fun, Kenster, we should do this again sometime, but maybe without the waiting beforehand and perhaps scrapping the part where you run off after four minutes." She wasn't being rude or sarcastic, merely cheerful and joking. Ken wished all people could deal so wonderfully with disappointments.
"I'll second that. I am sorry. I look forward to seeing you again when things calm down." And he really did, Ken realized as he left the shop. He was already thinking about seeing her again, places they could meet up. He didn't have time for this. He had a house to guard, a concussed, confused boyfriend to deal with, and a missing teammate. Not a good time to think about falling head over heels for some girl he met at a grocery store while she was stalking him.
As soon as he pushed open the front door to the house, he was struck by the absolute silence of it all. Immediately giving in to panic, he raced up the stairs, knowing Omi would be gone. They'd waited until he'd left and then they'd made their move, they'd come and taken Omi. It didn't matter who 'they' were, only that they were officially on his AND Aya's shit list.
He smashed their closed door open, panting for breath as he looked about, expecting scattered covers, overturned furniture, some sort of ransom note written in blood. Instead he wound up having to calm down a disoriented and startled Omi, so tangled up in covers that he'd trapped himself in an impromptu cocoon, blissfully asleep until Ken had come pounding towards the scene.
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you!" He hugged Omi, doing his damndest to turn down the situation. "I thought you'd be up by now, and with everything all quiet, I though someone had come and taken you away."
Omi burrowed childishly into his chest. "I was having the nicest dream." He grumped, preparing to drop off into slumber again. "Being loud wouldn't have made me not-gone."
"No, you're right about that." Ken toed off his shoes, maneuvering them both beneath the covers, holding tightly to Omi's sleeping body. "I was still worried though." He closed his eyes, resting his cheek against the top of Omi's head. The second time in as many days that he'd thought Omi to be gone. Maybe it was some sort of sign from above that he needed to stop taking things for granted. Or not. More likely was the fact that his life was just always going to suck and he would always be fearful for the safety of those who mattered to him. Maybe it was a sign he needed to not set up coffee dates with unknown girls when he already had someone waiting at home for him.
"Love you." Ken sighed quietly, nuzzling at soft blonde hair.
"Hmmm." Omi smiled back in his sleep, tucking his own head more tightly under Ken's chin. For a short while, this was a sort of peace.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"What do you want now?" One-Eye fussed loudly, doing his best to make his displeasure clear. "Every time there's trouble somewhere, you and your crazy friends start popping up again, trying to hound an old man to his death. No respect for the venerable, no respect for ME!"
Youji kicked the door shut behind him, locking the door and flipping the "Open" sign over. It was time to play mean. He had no qualms about bullying blind old men. He'd killed a few of those in his day. "I'm looking for a friend of mine. He would have stopped by here, hunting for information about a man known as Ko-ishi, the same one responsible for the torching of our property."
"Ko-ishi died. You should know that." The old man's voice remained steady, not the slightest bit intimidated by Youji's menacing tone.
"I'm not asking about Ko-ishi, I'm asking about my partner in crime." No names were used. They were minor players on the scale of things, Weiss Kreuz was, they hadn't the infamy to need codenames or catch phrases. One-Eye knew who they were, their voices, their demeanor, that was all that mattered.
He signed, tapping his fingers on the counter top in a show of nonchalance. "Yes, he was in here. Ranting and raving in between questions about rented out medical equipment and the activities of a dead man. Care to fill me in on the madness?"
Youji sighed. "I have no information for you, and that shouldn't require an explanation. I don't seek any knowledge outside propriety. I just want to know my friend's next destination."
"You going to leave my store after that?"
"'S a deal."
"I didn't rent out any serious medical equipment, but I did direct him towards another miscellaneous dealer; I can tell you how to reach him, and I also sent him to a purveyor of great knowledge. Between the two of them, he should have found whatever he was asking about."
"He didn't disclose any other intents? He didn't mention any other place he might visit?"
"No."
"Fuck it all. Fine, tell me where to find the two people you referred him to. I need to track him step by step then."
One-Eye grudgingly gave him the information, more out of a tired lack of concern than any actual desire to help or avoid property damage. There were more important things he had to worry about. It wasn't easy being old.
Youji headed for the illicit dealer of all things necessary first. He figured that would be Aya's first stop. He was so hung up on his sister that all prospects tainted by her possible association would come first.
Another frenzied drive through town and he reached "Cobarde's" place of business. Just another beat up, abandoned looking house. Youji was assuming it held a treasure trove of wonders inside. The door was locked, apparently closed for the day. An easily solved problem. What self-respecting assassin was incapable of picking a lock?
Stealthy steps took him through a surprisingly lavish interior, a contrast to the shabby outside of the building. Everything was dead silent; it was hard to fight for absolute soundlessness. The air felt wrong.
It took him a few moments to associate the dark staining on the floor with the dried blood it appeared to be. Youji mentally created a few elaborate curses, pulled his handgun from its shoulder holster and kicked the door to the kitchen open. He promptly had to turn and retch.
The mess hanging over the kitchen table was barely recognizable as human. Hung from the ceiling with steel hooks piercing its shoulders and upper thighs, its chest cavity was opened, bared to the blood stained floor, skin pulled out and stretched into some sort of display, fastened with line leading up to the ceiling supports. Youji didn't check to confirm his suspicions of specifically missing organs or bizarre maiming. The man was hanging in the air with his ribs shining slickly at anyone who cared to get close enough to see. That was more than enough to convince him to leave.
The thought that Aya could be responsible for the atrocity never occurred to him. He would believe Aya to be capable of that sort of focused violence, but who would want to associate the two. Aya wouldn't plan ahead and obtain the devices he'd need for the complex death, would he? Not for someone so far out of the loop from the real problem. Right?
Time to see the woman; the one in the know. She was outside the loop, a non-player. The same as Youji and the gang. No known affiliations, but many hidden sources. One-Eye hadn't had many good things to say about her. Then again, being One-Eye, he had very few good things to say about anyone.
A pretty little apartment building in the middle of the least-rugged downtown area. Not the dive he'd expected. He wound up having to suffer through an over exuberant security guard who insisted the people in the building depended on him to keep out the riffraff. Youji wound up waiting in the lobby for another ten minutes while the guard talked with his woman on the phone in hushed tones. Youji threw in a comment about being sent by One-Eye. It was passed along to the tiny voice on the phone. The voice said something that was apparently derogatory to the security guard's mental state. Youji was allowed up with much reluctance. Life was a bitch.
The door opened on his first knock. A diminutive, non-descript woman ushered him in, shutting the door behind them as quickly as possible.
"Miss, this won't take long, I-"
"Shut up." She snapped at him, voice oddly accented. He tried to place her speech alteration as she stood still, listening for something.
"Explanation?" He inquired when she finally raised a hand in acknowledgment.
"I was making sure you weren't bugged. I will not be spied upon." She frowned darkly at nothing in particular. Youji considered bolting. She wasn't gruesomely murdered, but she did seem to be fairly crazy. He hated dealing with the paranoid; they wore on his patience.
"Right... This won't take long. One-Eye referred me to you. A friend of mine might have visited you today. Red hair, pale skin; a fairly angry man. Sound familiar?"
"You? You're with that rude man?" She stomped her foot. "The Striking Cobra is not used to such treatment." Her arms crossed as she assumed an expression of disdain. Youji took a deep breath.
"Yes, he's rude. Yes, he's demanding. Yes, he's almost as crazy as you appear to be. Let's move on, shall we? I need to know what you told him; what he told you. Do you know where he went after talking with you?" Youji crossed his fingers, hoping she wouldn't list the dead man's store as Aya's next destination. A dead end.
"He seeks the undead." She smiled. Not a nice smile at that. "So do I. He was wrong for the task, but you I will assist. The dead man hides, below the city like the vermin who serve him. I sent the man you seek on the path of his foe, possibly to his death."
"Fucking bitch!" Youji slammed her into the wall, her skull making a satisfying crack against the subtly flowered wallpaper. "If he is dead, then you can rest assured you'll be soon to follow!"
"He is not dead yet. I will help you find him." She wheezed out, still maintaining that bizarre aura of dignity and inhuman knowledge. She gave Youji the fucking creeps. "I hoped you would follow in his wake. I will help you. We leave now." She twisted sharply, kneeing Youji in the stomach and freeing herself from his clutching hands, marching off into another room.
Youji followed. He watched with a mixture of amusement and uncertainty as she strapped numerous weapons on over her conservative business suit, exchanging her low heels for combat boots at the last moment. An odd combination. She couldn't be more than five feet tall. She was crazy. No other option.
She smiled. "Come Kudou, it's time for an adventure." Youji thought for the umpteenth time how absolutely bizarre this was all turning out to be. He was supposed to welcome her along on his trip 'below the city'? He assumed she meant the sewers. Where else would one find vermin, philosophical or otherwise? He didn't even ask how she knew his last name. She was crazy and mystical and all that shit. It didn't bear reasoning.
"Well, this has been pleasant, but I really must be going. I work alone. Thank you for your assistance, but we part ways now." Youji backed out of the bedroom. She pulled a rifle from the assortment of firearms spread across her demure bedspread and pointed it at his skull.
"Now is not a time to balk."
Youji sighed heavily. This was getting older and older every second. "So, you want to join me on this pleasant outing. Fine. You get me to Aya and you avoid having your neck wrung. Now get that thing out of my face before I shove it up into a very unpleasant orifice."
She lowered the weapon.
"So, what am I to call you? Mystical Bitch who Sees All? The Striking Cobra?" He wriggled his fingers mockingly.
"You may call me Fate."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Hehe, I have trouble keeping things non-humorous. If I can't do things from Youji's sardonic point of view, then I must work it into the plot. Her name isn't really Fate, by the way. She's just sort of uhm... mystical and crazy and all that shit. -sighs- I'm zonked out. Give me yay! I will give you smut and angst and violence and drama in return! Don't you want smut and violence and drama? AND angst! Look at me! Signing my life away. -giggles to self- Gah, I need to go away now before I start saying even more bizarre things. Thanks for all of those who have left me feedback already! Yay for you! NOW GIVE ME MORE! -bites her own arm- RARRR akainobaka@mchsi.com or darkhunter@ijustdontcare.com