Description: The deep underside of the tournament ship Suiryuu. Down near the engines, in the engineering compartments within the hull. A dark place, a dank place, lit only by the ethereal light of spiritual seals. A space off-limits until the proper time of the scheduled fights. Off-limits. So... so... WHAT ARE ALL THESE PEOPLE DOING DOWN HERE?!!
Since arriving on the boat, Elle's pretty much kept to herself. There's a lot of people on the ship, and it hasn't been easy avoiding the tide of fighters and crew. Nevertheless, Elle has managed by spending the time to investigate areas people don't seem to be willing to go. Careful notes and pictures are taken, all ready to be loaded up and sent for evaluation.
For Elle, the prize money is secondary. What drives her is the desire to know what's really going on. While curiousity definitely has killed more than one cat, Elle usually prepares herself better than that. Some call it 'cheating', but Elle considers it just getting a leg up on the competition.
But when word gets to Elle about her upcoming match, there's no way she can cheat through it. Therefore, it behooves her to investigate the location where she'll be fighting.
Down she clambers into the deepest, darkest points of the hold. She's been here before, on one of her random trips, but she didn't stay long. Though almost emotionally dead, the sensation of unease still permeates. Nevertheless, if she's to actually have a shot at winning, confidence is important. And the only waty for her to have it is by investigation. Knowledge is power. Elle seeks it out whenever it's available, and the clank of boots on metal deck announces the progression of her quest.
A quest that takes her ever further into the belly of the beast. Down below the cargo compartments proper, into the lowest spaces of the ship. Dank and humid, noisy with the constant thrum of the great ship's engines. The Suiryuu is a silent vessel, at least from outside, from up above - but down here, the power plants produce a distinct vibration that carries through the hull, resonating through the pipes, catwalks, and steel bulkheads.
The light down here is strange as well. Those mysterious sigals, the symbols referred to as "seals"...are present all over the Suiryuu, without and within. But here, there's even more of them. The arcane runes etched into the walls and floors crawl with an ethereal glow, illuminating the area with the light of chi alone - and twisting the spirit of this place.
And this is where Elle was told to go. Where she could expect to fight her opponent. A chamber on this level, surrounded by all... this.
Amidst all the engine noise, amidst all the spectral motion of the seals... there is other movement. That of a slim human figure, moving into the passageway. Down the long corridor from Elle, emerging from the darkness at the other end. Little more than a silhouette in the strange and irregular light, but recognizable all the same. A small girl, clad in dark clothing, a band round her forehead - and in-line skates upon her feet.
Riko Koganei.
Swell.
Dull eyes don't recognize the shape immediately: either she's a midget forced to work the bowels of the ship, or she's a kid. Let it be repeated that Elle hates kids. Children aren't the future. They're a dismal recognition of past failure. Elle raises her hand, and releases a burst of electrical power so that she can see clearly exactly what's in her way now.
"Oh for Chrissakes," she says dryly, "Can't I go anywhere on this miserable tub without running into you people? Everywhere I go, there's a member of the crew, or an idiot with a chi and mommy issues."
"So lemme guess. Either you like to sit down here because you enjoy the high culture and ambiance, or you're here to get in my way somehow and make me miserable."
"I like talking to the walls," Riko replies, in a matter-of-fact way.
The ninja girl returns Elle's comment, her voice echoing down the length of narrow walkway. She glides forward, the wheels of her skates rattling audibly over the uneven surface of the deck.
"It's the only intelligent conversation around here."
The light strikes her clearer now, revealing her features. Calm and composed, with a smile hovering on her face. Riko's eyes gleam in the chi-forged glow, glittering as she lifts her head to lock gazes with the woman.
At 4'8", Riko is going to have to crane her head a little more if she wants to do that, especially since Elle is nearly a foot taller than her and has apparently decided she's not going to get anything vaguely useful out of the kid.
Why does everyone always have to make life difficult?
Elle walks forward, at this point about as sick of ninjas as a person can be without screaming. Tradition, honor, secrecy... the entire rigamarole is both singularly annoying and arcane to her.
"Considering you have the same amount of personality as a sheet of drywall, I could see how you'd come to that conclusion." Steps continue to propel her towards her destination as she moves to step past the ninja to the fighting chamber.
"Oh, no, no," Riko singsongs, in a musical lilt spiralling up the registers, "not drywall...but possibly stucco, maybe cinderblock..."
Indeed, her head /is/ tilted up at Elle's. More than that - her entire spine, her entire torso, curves in a serpentine arch. Riko flows around Elle as she attempts to step past her, a fluid change in posture and position. One that leaves a leg snaking out, quick quick quick, in Elle's path, one plastic-clad skate boot interposed in the space occupied by the woman's legs.
"...all sorts of prefabricated facades..."
This ship is really starting to get on his nerves. It's very rare that a place is enough to get on Ryuji Yamazaki's nerves simply by existing, but the ambience of the massive boat is one that leaves a dissatisifed taste in the former Yakuza's throat. The simple act of traveling from the main deck to further below is enough to put him on edge, and the hand resting in his right pocket is rather firmly gripping the switchblade resting there. "The hell is wrong with this place..."
The sound of voices catches the thug's attention, and an eyebrow arches faintly as the voice in question sounds at least vaguely familiar with all the potential for echoing and distortion that the hull provides. He continues on, though, growling his disapproval of this horrible, horrible boat to himself as he trudges towards the sound of noise. ... that second voice follows soon after, though, the sing-songy voice.. no, that one doesn't sound familiar. But there's something about that, as well, that sets Yamazaki at unease. He hates that sort of voice.
"You're a teenager. Everything about your personality is fake. Give it a few years, and some of your body parts will be, too," is Elle's almost distracted reply as she squints, stopping short of the foot as she pulls a small flashlight from her utility belt. The batteries are fresh, replaced before the mission. The beam shines about, illuminating the hallway so that she can better see her goal.
And then she hears the voice muttering behind her.
Moving into a ready stance, she shines the light into the darkness, only to illuminate the shadow of something big behind her. If it wasn't for her expert ear, she'd go into full assault mode. Yamazaki's voice is distinctive: graveling, like rocks being crushed under a steamroller's tread.
While the sound of the gangster doesn't exactly comfort, it does give her reassurance. "Yamazaki," she says, raising her voice so he can hear. "Follow the flashlight, and watch your head. Some of the beams are kind of low."
"Only a few," Riko muses absently, "tsk, I'd hoped to perfect the cyborg components before then. Maybe I should rob NESTS, they're sure to have a better internal circuitry design..."
As she speaks, the ninja girl slides back into a standing stance, skate wheels rolling on the rough metal of the floor until she's upright and straight. The ceiling is indeed low, down here in the underside of the ship, amidst the engines and maintenance spaces. All bare structural metal, conduits, and piping. Not that the height of the narrow walkway gives Riko any trouble. She's short, after all.
She continues to speak, the clear soprano of her voice murmuring in apparent deep contemplative thought.
"...you have -no idea- how hard it is to fit decent wiring into a human body, there's not enough /space/..."
Of course, as she talks, her eyes are hidden. Cast in shadow, from the patterns of light and dark - the illumination coming from Elle's torch, and the dim light eminating from the the chi-forged seals engraved on the bulkheads of the hull.
Having a flashlight shined in his direction isn't the most pleasant sensation in the world. Especially when it's a bit hard to see in the first place. Eyes narrow, and he almost begins to make known his complaint when he finds out who owns one of the voices. "Mn. So I've noticed." His eyes go up for a moment, peering towards the low beams that've very nearly given him a headache to deal with already. But now he knows who belongs to at least one of the voices that's caught his attention, and knowing how deep the financial pockets on that one voice go is enough to settle him into a more reasonable mindset, rather than the 'kill everyone, leave no witnesses' mood that the Suiryuu had him in a moment previous.
After ducking his head down, he starts to walk over towards Elle and whoever else is at the far end of the path.. but there's that damn sing-song voice again. Ugh. After a few moments of having to listen to it getting louder and clearer as he approaches, his voice starts to slide from that resonating gravelly voice to a higher-pitched one, almost as if a hyena were trying to laugh and talk at the same time. "Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP! Just opening your goddamn mouth is making my head ache, I'll give you a goddamn reason to need robot limb replacements, y'god damned midget.." As he steps up behind Elle and off to one side, he straightens back up to his full height, putting him somewhere around a foot and a half over Riko.
There is /no/ reason to be down here. Nope. None at all. The upper decks of the Suiryuu have been a pleasant place to be. Snacks (Yet she hasn't seen Hinata around chowing on them yet!). Books. Fighters itching for spars or just a listening ear. The accommodations are great. The different areas of the ship interesting to see. But right now there's a problem. And that has got the young guest traipsing through places she really wouldn't normally.
Hotaru's approach is hardly stealthy, her ears following the sound of one voice in particular. One that she's become familiar with due to repeated exposure. And it belongs to someone that she thinks, for probably the first time ever, will be able to help her with something.
And oh, hey, there's a flashlight. That makes it easier to find the small group. She's lucky, missing the low beams by virtue of being able to just walk right under them. Otherwise her arrival would likely have been announced with a painful clang of forehead against metal. "Heeeeey~ Riko?" the teenager's voice inquires, eyes still desperately trying to adjust to the dim light offered by the walls and torch.
"I can't get my room door open. I think it's locked. Or jammed? I'm not sure, I dropped my bag off there this morning, but now I can't get in-" Yamazaki starts shouting 'shut up' and Hotaru does just that, eyes widening, mouth hanging agape.
What the hell? There's not enough space down here as it is, and now it's become a gathering place for little girls and crazy people. "Easy, Yamazaki. Under any other circumstances, I wouldn't care if you killed her with plastic bag and a cheese grater. This place is crawling with Ryuohara ninja, though, and unlike you, I'm not completely crackers and don't really want to die in the asshole of a boat." It sounds insulting, but Yamazaki should know the score by now. Elle's just telling it like it is.
On the other hand, there's Riko. "Great. You keep thinking about mechanical attachments, while I go check out where I'm supposed to be fighting two high school kids." She twirls a finger in the air, obviously enthused to be stuck in a pit with two hyper-hormonal brats. She begins her progression again when she hears Hotaru's voice.
"There's a concierge on this ship. There's help staff everywhere. Barring that, there are a /host/ of deranged people that shoot lasers out of their ears and capable of bench pressing dump trucks, and you've come all the way down into creepy central to find help with your /door/?" Elle doesn't even turn around. No need. If Hotaru does anything dumb, Yamazaki will make her into a nice wall fresco. "Sheer genius, kiddo. If that's the gene stock you're coming from, I can tell why you're an orphan."
"Oh," Riko interjects, "her genetic traits are quite /interesting/, actually. Lots of potential."
She tilts her head, folding her arms. She's the smallest individual in the compartment, dwarfed by the others crammed into the clastrophobic passageway. Especially in the shadow of Yamazaki's imposing form. Still, it seems that nobody's informed /Riko/ of that. The way she's standing, it's the poise of a queen surveying her domain.
Probably not all that unreasonable an analogy, considering what Elle just said.
Riko's eyes narrow, faintly, almost glowing with blue reflections. And as they do, as if in response, the spiritually-charged lines crawling up the walls and floor /pulse/, once. Just once. The energies spiking to sudden intensity, a jolt of power suffusing the chamber. The temperature within the room rises, a wave of heat sweeping through. Then it's gone.
And Riko smiles.
"But I'm afraid," she says, pleasantly, "this area is currently off-limits - Ms. Belmonte, Mr. Yamazaki, Ms. Futaba."
She nods to each in turn, her voice carrying with it the distinct formal politeness that screams 'management'.
"I would advise returning to the residential decks, though if you wish a tour of the lower spaces, I'm sure the concierge can arrange...something."
"Goddamn ninja. That reminds me, we need to have words later." Yamazaki hates goddamn ninja. Drive him up the wall like nobody's business. Then Elle mentions the numbers advantage of their host, and a sneer starts to pull at his lips again. "To hell with that. Goddamn ninja come after me, ain't me gonna be dyin' in the basement of a goddamn boat." Now that he's not yelling, his voice is slipping back into that deep bass rumble again. Score or no score, Ryuji will be loathe even at the best of times to admit that they've a hand up on him. He'll sooner end up buried underneath a massive pile of fodder ninja akin to the groups in old kung fu movies than give them even the slighest bit of credit.
He's about to say something back towards Hotaru, but then that little energy show goes on amidst the room, and it's not a moment later that the switchblade has been snapped out of the right pocket. The blade -clik-s into place, and it's already spinning between Yamazaki's fingers. "The hell.. you think I'm gonna leave just because you've got a damn light show? Come on, let's see you remove me! God damned ninja, I ain't listenin' to you!" Already irritated and out of his element, that little energy display was enough to push the Syndicate enforcer's fragile stability right over the edge.
Tiffany moves about the boat warily... well, at least about as warily as a cheerleader who can kick the teeth out of most of the football team can get. She's been wearing her boxing-gloves most of the time since she stepped aboard the ship, and has them on now. She's also got handy and fashionable tote-bag slung over a shoulder. Perhaps incongruously, she's otherwise dressed for the last days of the summer, with a dangerously-dip-necklined, one-piece bathing-suit, a white-and-blue-stripe-bandanna holding her hair back, sandles... and strangely enough... a set of swim-goggles on her brow. Maybe she wants to be prepared in case she gets tossed overboard.
Currently, she finds herself attracted to the sounds in the hold, poking her head in cautiously, as if expecting to walk in on a ninja fight, "This whole Chinnychu boat gives me the creeps. Freaky vibes."
Frozen mid-step, it becomes obvious when Hotaru finally notices Elle is part of the group, her face shifting from being shocked to looking more like a dear caught in the foreward lamp of an oncoming locomotive. The lighting mostly conceals the rapid loss of complexion. Mostly.
"I- they- I didn't want- no I-" Her reply is pretty much unintelligible and it tapers off as something just feels /wrong/ down here. Riko says it's off limits and that's perfectly fine with Hotaru as the girl starts to back away, hands raised in front of her, palms forward as if trying to wave off any rouble.
And that's before Yamazaki starts twirling the switchblade. "Okay, yeah, I think, um, I'll find the concerj, the consag, conair... ah, the people that do. stuff." Yup, that should put to rest any doubts about her genius-status! More steps backward are taken until she bumps right into Tiffany peeking in, which just ends up eliciting a distressed girly squeak of surprise from her.
The wave of chi and heat passing through causes Elle's otherwise stone-faced features to twitch slightly, eyelid fluttering as her teeth grind.
This is getting ridiculous.
She looks left, looks right, and the n looks at Yamazaki. First thing's first.
The woman walks /behind/ the Orochi-powered berserker so as not to be in his face. "I don't like her either," she notes as she passes by the hired killer, "but like it or not, this isn't the best place to splatter her, from a tactical standpoint. I can't pay you if you get chucked off the boat."
Then she starts to move out. Too crowded. Hotaru's scared, cowed look doesn't get much of a reaction, but Tiffany's appearance gets a raised eyebrow. "I'd get creepy vibes too if I was stomping around half naked in the hold of a demon boat. You're one make-out session from getting hacked to bits by a lunatic with a machete, my-sized-Barbie. If I were either of you, I'd beat feet right about now."
"The same could be said," Riko adds, in a deceptively quiet voice, "for you, Ms. Belmonte."
Her smile broadens, the corners of her lips pulling back, her teeth shining white. She spreads her hands, palms open.
"As I said, this area -is- off-limits. For safety reasons, you understand, until the fights are ready. Let me assure you, while fighters -are- very durable...an explosion aboard /this/ vessel would quite definitely be /fatal/."R
She looks at Yamazaki in particular as she says this. He is, of course, clearly the strongest individual here. But even he, it seems, would not be exempt. Or so Riko claims.
"To you," she murmurs, "to me, to everyone aboard. Which would be unfortunate, really. Quite premature."
The little ninja girl claps her hands together, a cheerful sound that echoes through the lower hull.
"I understand the desire to...ruin things," she carries on, with exquisite politeness, "but all things in their proper time. Still, if you're agreeable, Mr. Yamazaki...we can see about arranging a fight for you - perhaps with the good Ms. Futaba or Ms. Lords. With financial recompense, of course."
Riko beams at Hotaru and Tiffany as well.
Then her smile grows cold.
"But not now."
Tiffany doesn't exactly squeak, or shriek when collided with, but she does startle back into the wall with the girlish yelp of someone frightened they might just have gotten a bat, or perhaps a ninja stuck in their hair. She swings her tote-bag in Hotaru's general direction... fortunately, despite it being inordinately heavy, it's probably better than if she swung her fist. It's a wild swing anyway, and Hotaru can probably catch it rather than being impacted by it... it's heavy, though. She bats her big blue eyes as she takes in the scene...
*piku-piku* "Hotaru?" her eyes flick to the light-flare and the flick of the knife, "What-the-heck's goin-?" That's when Elle speaks, and demonstrates her no-holds-barred coversational style. Tiffany's left eye twitches a little bit, and she scowls, "Yeah, like the ninja here got anything to complain about this. I've seen some of the getups ninja chicks wear. Thongy, flappy little-" she pauses and blinks, as Riko... sort of breaks her train of thought quite handily.
.. ah, right. Money. The motivating factor behind getting Yamazaki on this boat in the first place.
Slowly, he straightens up from what was a stance that was preparing to start slicing up ninja that came after him, raising back to his full height as the switchblade's sharp end clicks back into the handle. "Hmf." He hates to admit it, but the girl is right. Gutting a bunch of ninja before getting thrown off the boat isn't going to result in his bank account getting any larger. Predictably, though, Riko knows how to soothe the savage beast; money. ".. I think a deal could be worked out. Not like you don't know how to find me on this goddamn boat. Just tell me when. Don't matter who."
With that, he turns on a heel and starts to follow Elle towards the exit. The right hand resumes its place in his pocket as that rocky growl rumbles in his throat once again. It doesn't take long for him to catch up to his temporary employer. "This ain't gonna be cheap, Belmonte. This ain't gonna be cheap."
Panicked, but not completely oblivious, Elle and Yamazaki's interaction is picked up on by Hotaru, including comments about being paid, tactical considerations... Elle sure has upgraded from Doctor Tran with this guy. He looks to be straight out of some kind of slasher horror movie. And the Blackjack leader is talking to him like she's in charge. That's almost more nerve wracking than his own behavior. Or the revelation that Elle is even on this boat to begin with.
Wait, who was that she bumped into- Hotaru turns around just in time to catch the bag right in the stomach, stumbling a couple of steps as her hands grab hold of it. "T-Tiffany?" she gasps upon recogizing the friendly Pacific High student. "Um, let's just get out of here, it's off limits," she encourages a moment later, glancing after Elle then back toward Yamazaki, brow furrowing at Riko's proposal of match against the guy. She's just here to watch the events, really!
Heavy bag still gripped tightly, Hotaru takes in a deep breath and makes with the getting the heck out of the hold. Since she's got Tiffany's stuff, she can probably count on the other girl following along. "I wonder when we'll be back to the shore," she mutters. The passanger list of this cruise just got a lot freakier.
With Marise's new charity scam in place, cash isn't much of a problem anymore. God bless that magnanimous nature of the Japanese government. "You'll get paid," Elle replies to Yamazaki. "Just hold out until I learn everything I need to know. Then I really don't care what you do to these yahoos. Stab 'em. Eat 'em. Make hand puppets. Whatever."
At this point, Riko's just making noise. The passive portion of Elle's brain picks it up for later processing, but her attentions are clearly elsewhere at this point. When a problem arises that can't be handled immediately, come back, and deal with it later, when you're better prepared.
It's hard to get more prepared than a monster Japanese maniac with a knife bigger than most swords, but Elle will find a way.
Elle's already making her way out towards the deck. There's no real reason to sit around and chat with the underaged. "So, I heard Rock's stepping up again and making a lot of noise in the Neo League," she says to Yamazaki. "Planning on beating him up again?"
Tiffany is still attached to the tote-bag, so when Hotaru hauls it out of the hallway, Tiff gets dragged along by the strap. Stumbling after the smaller girl, the blonde furrows her brow in puzzled shock, "Wait, Hotaru, how'd you get dragged into this too?" The terse exchange with Elle is almost forgotten, already. She's kind of a focused kind of person, that way. It usually tends to work out for her, "Are you okay?"
Meanwhile...left behind in the passageway, the only one seemingly content to stay there, Riko steeples her fingers, tips touching. Holding her hands in front of her body, in an odd poise. She watches, as Elle and Yamazaki leave, as Hotaru and Tiffany make their own retreat. She nods, once, to herself. Then she turns...and rolls smoothly down the deck, heading in the other direction. Moving down the walkway, deeper into the engineering spaces of the ship. She rounds a corner, vanishing into the tangled web of pipes and conduits.
She's done her job here. Everyone's leaving, and that's good enough for now. Really, it's too soon for them to be down here. Too soon. There's a schedule, after all. A schedule. The schedule is very important. It wouldn't do, if there were any...interruptions.
After all, Riko wasn't joking when she said the ship might explode.
Idly, she wonders if anyone realized that.
Ah well.
The high fluting sound of a ninja girl whistling...echoes from the corridor, gradually fading into the distance.
Rock. "What?" The Neo League was never something that particularly caught Yamazaki's attention; sure, it was another place to punch people in the face, but attaching point values to his ability to punch people in the face always struck him as silly. Then again, this was the same person that still physically holds the SNF title belt. They can tell him he's not the champion, but without their stupid belt... possession is 9/10ths of the law, so the saying goes. "That little prick making noise again? ... oh, wait. He's probably talking on that goddamn internet thing again, isn't he? Heard something about him and some shitbag teenager makin' comments about me. Goddamn kids and the goddamn internet.. can't come say it to my goddamn face."
Oh, the irony.
".. probably. Once I've got my money and I'm off this asinine boat, first thing I'm going to do is get someone to read the damn internet until they find out who's talking shit about me, then I'm flyin' to their house and punchin' their goddamn teeth in.."
"I'm just along for the ride," Hotaru replies to Tiffany's inquiry, sounding like she's already starting to doubt if that could honestly be said of /anyone/ on this boat. As to her state of being, "I'm fine. Hey, I'm having this problem with my door though..." her voice trails off.
Log created on 01:35:40 09/03/2007 by Riko, and last modified on 01:46:33 09/04/2007.