Description: It spread through the ship, by word of mouth. A meeting, on deck, called by the tournament organizers. A chance to get some answers, perhaps. Like the obvious one. What is the true purpose of this tournament? But for all that's solved, more mysteries are raised. Yet one thing is clear. Jinchuu /will/ be completed.
It is a scene of destruction. A scene of magnificent desolation.
In the distance, on the horizon, the great bulk of the Black Noah looms. But the warship is silent, now, almost devoid of life. The crew scattered, in disarray, the chain of command broken - with Rugal himself missing. The Noah is damaged, taking on water. It is no longer a threat. At least for now.
The seas around are littered with debris and flotsam, broken fragments of wood and metal ... and some dark shapes that might well be the bodies of unfortunates, soldiers of "R" caught in the blast that destroyed half the Suiryuu.
The tournament ship Suiryuu still rests upon the waters. But no longer is she a seaworthy vessel. For now she remains above the waves - but for how much longer, that's the question. A good chunk of the ship has been destroyed, torn apart by the hand of God. Everything above the waterline has been blown apart. The main deck is gone, shattered from bow to stern. What remains of the masts have fallen, twisted wreckage presenting itself to the sky.
And yet, whatever force caused the destruction...has not yet departed. The ruined ship is alight with ethereal force, twisting and spiralling motes of chi filling every color of the spectrum. Rising from the ruins, lines of spirit-forged light...
It is into this scene that a slender figure emerges, melting from one of those flares of energy - the ghostly illumination casting her dark hair and clothing into stark relief, dancing across her pale skin. Riko Koganei, apprentice of Seishirou Ryouhara, the number-two organizer of this tournament...mounts a podium, set up for this express purpose at the front of the ship. Where the bow used to be. She stands atop the platform, a wooden frame draped with the insignia of the Ryouhara clan. She turns her gaze, then, to what is left of the ship's main deck - the largest open space remaining on the damaged Suiryuu - and the people gathered there.
Minutes ago, an announcement went out, passed from person to person by word of mouth ... a meeting, called by the tournament organizers, to address the Agents of Jinchuu and all other passengers aboard.
And now, Riko lifts a battered plastic loudhailer to her mouth, flicking the battery-powered device on.
*SCREEEEEEEEEEEEECH*
Riko's voice, distorted by feedback, shrieks across the deck.
"Hullo, hullo, testing one, two, three. Okay!"
She coughs, prompting another squeal from the megaphone.
"OKAY EVERYONE, SETTLE DOWN! SETTLE DOWN! SEISHIROU-SAMA WILL BE OUT IN A MINUTE, HE'S JUST IN THE BATHROOM OR SOMETHING!"
Pause.
"In the meantime," Riko continues, in a mercifully less-ear-splitting voice, "some status! We've checked the ship, and what's watertight is remaining watertight, so it looks like we're still good for 'least four, five hours before the ship goes under! Plenty of time! Matches are continuing as planned, and we'll be evacuating the ship after we name the winner! So don't you worry!"
Pause.
"Really!"
Having been in the cabins looting Elle's cabin when the immense chi explosion occured, Momo had... a rough night, to say the least. Seeing as the boat seemed relatively floaty, at least for a while, she decided the best thing to do was to sleep off her fatigue so that she could think more clearly, then found a nice nook to tuck herself into and did exactly that.
Unfortunately, said nook happens to be directly beneath where Riko's wooden platform has been built. Somehow, the tennis player managed to completely miss (and be missed by) the construction... until now, anyway. When the loudspeaker's feedback blasts across the bow, there's an audible (and tangible) *THUMP* from the platform, followed immediately by an "OW!", a brief pause, then, "WHO DARES AWAKEN MOMO!?"
Moments later she crawls out from beneath the clan insignia, rubbing her head and sporting a large duffel bag over her shoulder.
Hakuya wasn't really all that injured from his last fight. He wasn't beaten as badly as some of the other competitors in that last brawl, so all he had were to change his old bandages - the ones he had from his fight with Nikolai, which had nearly killed him. He was still a bit sore, but not in too bad of condition to leave his cabin to attend this 'meeting' that had been called. Considering the MASSIVE EXPLOSION and the black boat settled in the water nearby, the Suigetsu had a good deal of questions he needed to have answers for... and if this was a meeting of 'the Agents of Jinchuu' then there was a good possibility that Seishirou would be there. So, emerging from his cabin, he picks his way through the wrecked hallways and cluttered decks to make his way to where the meeting would be held.
Strangely, when he arrives, he's walking backwards. Why? Well, ninjas sneak up on you. So if you're walking backwards, they can't sneak up on you. See, it's a perfect plan.
Katelynn wasn't asleep when this whole thing happened. No, she was just meditating. Kneeling perfectly erect and symmetrically, with her eyes closed, Katelynn was focused on clearing her mind, when this whole thing went down. She's brought out of her meditation and looks around, apparently startled by what just happened. "Who the hell would disturb me like that," Katelynn wonders to herself as she stands up and heads out of her cabin, heading for the deck.
Having somehow survived the explosion and his subsequent travel through what was no doubt both time and space, Preston Alistair Wellington the II is nevertheless dripping wet. Having swum his way back on-board after critical tougho--oh wait, no, no. The fourth wall stays intact as he privately recalls his miraculous survival through that explosion, having been busy seeking ribs in what remained of the ship's lavish topside galley. "Why is it that every fuckin' ship I'm on ends up blown up, on fire, or otherwise fuckin' totalled?" he wonders to himself, grousing quietly for a change.
Rather blackened from his journey through the air, the Brit stands off to one side, simply keeping to himself. Why he bothered to swim back to the boat instead of towards land he blames on his appetite. Resettling his oar across his broad shoulders, he lifts a cigarette towards the visible chi that's covered everything -- himself included, as despite the explosion he seems to be half a nightlight. If he had any hair, it would've been blown off by the explosion. Moments later, he's blowing smoke. Casting a baleful glance up at the girl on the podium, he wonders what this is going to be about. And then Hakuya steps in, and Preston squints at the backwards-walking terrorist.
The Suiryuu's chief of security was certainly -present- when half of it was blown off... but Sakura, for once, wasn't on the front lines! No, she was making sure folks could stay snug in their cabins when ALL HECK was breaking loose outside. So intent was she on making sure the passenger manifest remained manifested in the physical realm... that she forgot to look out for her own well-being.
And found herself caught in the explosion, blasted =outside= the ship, and realized it was, quite literally, sink or swim! Finding her way back to the boat a good while later, uniform in tatters... well, she shouted at Riko a little.
Okay, a lot.
But all's well now! Sakura is here now, though, as before, she's staying more in the shadows than usual. Part of this is because the only clean uniform to change into was the Taiyo one she'd brought with her, and she'd rather not make a show of herself with Riko and Sei having Serious Business to discuss.
Besides, she's got a bit of catching up to do on her puzzle game. Luckily her handheld gaming system was left intact...
Meanwhile, up on the podium, Riko lowers her loudhailer. She blinks, once, leaning over the front of the platform...peering down at the irate tennis player crawling out from under the wooden stage, emerging from beneath the cloth covering the scaffolding. Well, now, that's something you don't see every day.
"Hey, hey," Riko chides, "move! You're blockin' the cool official crests I put on the front of this thing!"
Because, y'know, every official tournament final announcement needs a dramatic stage. Or somesuch. There's conventions to be maintained.
Straightening, she turns an eye to the people filtering out on deck, sweeping her gaze past Hakuya, Preston, and Katelynn. Riko's not entirely sure why the Gedo boy is emulating Michael Jackson...she just hopes there won't be any Neverland Ranch scandals coming out of his cabin. Lord knows the media's already gonna have a field day when word of the happenings in this tournament come out. But hey, any publicity's good publicity, right?
Then there's the nautical guy from Pacific, and that Shotokan girl. They seem relatively calm despite everything that's happened. Where "relatively calm" is a euphemism for "exceedingly, critically, on edge". But for a fighter, that's almost a normal state of mind.
Riko turns, looking straight at Sakura, off somewhere to the side. Without the loudhailer, she cups one hand over her mouth, and stage-whispers, "Looks like this will go down well, Sakura-senpai!"
She can't be serious...can she?
"Your cool official crests are blockin' my way out," Momo counters, shaking a fist at Riko. That didn't sound nearly as threatening as it could have, both due to that cutesy voice of hers and the fact that it's a really stupid complaint. Regardless, upon crawling out of the scaffold, she gets to her feet and resumes rubbing the lump on her head.
The Taiyo tennis player has never been known for her patience, however, and doesn't wait for Seishirou to make an appearance before starting to yell questions up to the podium. "Where'd the top of the ship go? Why is everything glowing? Do we still get free breakfast?"
He is faintly distracted. "Because it blew up. Because it blew up. And that depends on your definition of breakfast."
In all things, Seishirou's hand is evident. The ship is broken, but its agents live on. So it was decided, and so it was carried out. There is very little distress to be had for him, and there is little evidence of such on his scarred face.
The arrival of the captain of Suiryuu and Jinchuu's organizer president isn't a particularly celebrated event. There is little fanfare, no "Hail to the Chief" playing. In fact, there is no celebration at all, because Ryouhara is not there one moment, and there the next, a glitch in the world's perception--or perhaps just those in it. Standing about 9 feet to the left of the podium on a nearby shard of wreckage that used to be the main deck, he simply appears.
He moves fast, silently, but as if he didn't move at all.
Ryouhara is intense, his eyes and face a cold baleful wind from Poe's cellar.
Right now he is zipping up his fly. Then buttoning it.
It is interesting to note that despite his terse look, he is comparitively relaxed. Equally interesting is the fact that despite the obvious speed of his arrival, he is quite injured still. Makeshift bandages are wrapped around his bare midsection, of course. But.. still soaked through with blood. Hiretsu's cane--charred as it is from the explosion--is tucked through the back of his belt, tilted at an angle. He is still wearing the Director's shredded Jinchuu Standard Crew uniform, put through its paces by Rugal Bernstein himself. He looks up, sliding both hands into his pockets.
"Thank you for coming."
At this point, a small chinese rocket, launched at some point before Seishirou even arrived, sails through the air towards the podium. Ironically, the only people who might notice this are Hakuya, walking backwards, and Riko, facing backwards. Now the fanfare can begin.
Momo's next question comes almost immediately upon hearing Seishirou's voice, and looking at him just in time to catch him adjusting his pants. "Did you wash your hands when you finished?"
It was true that half the ship had just damn well exploded, but Hakuya had been tucked away safely in his cabin. He'd been intent on finding Tenma and Kenji just after his fight on the deck of the Suiryuu (and Pas and Marisol if he could hack it), but after not finding them, he'd walked into his cabin, and sat down. And then, quite literally, boom. The exact second he'd sat down. He'd been knocked around, but been okay, more or less. He'd just... not gone about leaving the cabin until the message of the meeting came. And now here he was!
He wasn't concerned with how the boat was about to sink. He could likely swim to shore, or at least stay afloat until rescue came. What he was really concerned with was what Momo had just asked: Why -was- everything glowing? The runes that had been gathering chi had been on the ship for some time. And why -did- the Black Noah attack? Lots of questions, but only one person to ask... and, now that Hakuya stopped and looked around, that guy wasn't here. He's about to turn around when he notices the rocket starting to fly... and then, the man himself. See? Walking backwards helped. Features growing serious, Hakuya moves to try and get in Seishirou's way. "Those explanations don't work. There's a lot I want to ask."
Riko fans herself with one hand, swooning dramatically. "Oh, Seishirou-sama," she singsongs, in a schoolgirlish lilt.
The only man who can teleport in while zipping up his pants. Zip /then/ fasten.
TA faux-flush coming to her cheeks, Riko gives a deep sigh.
Then, abruptly, all-business, she raises her megaphone, pointing the funnel end at Hakuya.
"Hey, wait your turn! We gotta answer the more important thing first!"
Riko turns to Momo.
"In the army," Riko says, sagely, speaking with the air of a memorized quote, "they teach them to wash their hands. In the navy, they teach them not to shit on their hands. In the Ryouhara, they teach them not to have to use their hands at all."
You gotta wonder what the hell Seishirou is teaching that girl.
As she says this, the paper-clad rocket descends even lower towards the platform, falling in a distinct parabolic arc. It fizzles as it falls, leaving a trail of smoke and flame. And Riko vacates the podium, scooting to the side... just as it shatters in an explosion of splinters and brightly coloured sparks, the firework detonating in a sphere of retina-searing brightness.
The acrid stench of freshly burning wood and gunpowder fills the air, just as Riko touches down next to Seishirou. She doesn't seem at all peturbed by this sequence of events. She only eyes the wreckage that used to be a dramatic tourney official-announcement-stage for a few moments...before pressing a button on her megaphone.
The sound of an electronic horn echoes across the deck.
"Okay! Now let the question and answers REALLY begin!"
"That's not creepy at all," Momo responds to Riko's strange proverb, in that tone of voice that oh-so-subtley says, 'What the hell is wrong with you?'
Suddenly, EXPLOSIONS! The tennis player yelps and covers her eyes, blinking away the sudden flash and trying to reorient herself. When she can see clearly again, Momo follows the dissipating smoke trail through the sky, then turns to regard the rest of the group (and whoever launched that rocket!). "Hey! No more fireworks, there's been enough big booms already!" she pouts.
The Taiyo student's gaze returns to Riko and Seishirou now, and she tilts her head curiously. Looks like she's out of questions for the moment.
Katelynn has no questions right now. Instead, she's just observing, for want of a better term, as to what's going on here. The fireworks don't faze her really.
He did seem sincere about thanking people, but he doesn't seem much more than absolutely dire about -- just about everything else. Hakuya might have succeeded in blocking his path. Except that he has little intention of moving. Fortunately for Hakuya, this means Seishirou doesn't have to harm him in some way.
The shinobi doesn't even blink when the podium (and probably Momo's nook) is annhilated in a flash to shards and cinders. This is largely most likely because he was the one that fired it. That said, the ninja overlooks Momo commenting on his hands discreetly. After all, he has an apprentice for this exact reason. Which leaves him to deal with Hakuya.
"Hn." The shinobi frowns faintly at him.
To Hakuya, he says /nothing/ else.
Looking past the boy and onto the crowd, he holds up one finger.
"/One/ question, each."
[OOC] Riko raises her hand. "Boxers or briefs?"
[OOC] Hakuya says, "Boxers or br- damnit."
[OOC] Seishirou says, "other"
[OOC] Riko says, "...wait I do your laundry, nevermind."
[OOC] Riko >_> <_<
[OOC] Zach says, "=Boxer briefs.="
[OOC] Seishirou says, "!!"
[OOC] Soma says, "Sei goes commando, I bet."
[OOC] Seishirou says, "less that.."
[OOC] Hakuya says, "Freeballin'."
[OOC] Seishirou says, "and more that I commonly have to use my underpants."
[OOC] Sakura says, "Guys, he was just zipping up his fly, if you were really curious you could've found out then"
[OOC] Seishirou says, "Sakura found out all she needed to know"
[OOC] Nikolai dies.
Momo raises her hand. "Did my thing about your pants count as my one question?""
Seishirou doesn't even blink, "Yes."
Momo says, "Aww..."
"Oooh," Riko murmurs, her mouth forming an 'o', her eyes wide, "haaaarsh."
In fact, he's quite itching for a fight. Hakuya's bad moods were rare, but after being nearly killed, having his friends hurt, and generally having a -bad time- on the Suiryuu, he was pretty ready to just beat the answers he wanted out of Seishirou! The Suigetsu doesn't even bat an eye when the fireworks go off, because he'd seen the rocket, and could guess what was going to happen - that, and he wasn't going to let his eyes off Seishirou. Despite this, a sort of curious frown appears on Hakuya's features when the Ryouhara limits him to one question. It wasn't the frown of 'you'll answer how many questions I want you to answer, damnit' but more... contemplating just what his question was going to be. Bad moods for Hakuya weren't all that bad, apparently. Keeping his eyes on Seishirou and just giving him a hard look, eventually, he does come up with his question, though hell if he knows how well it'll go over. "What was the point of this?" And so help you if you answer vaguely, his tone seems to suggest.
After eating a Kaiser Wave from the leader of "R" himself for his ideals.. it might not be surprising that Seishirou is relatively unkowed by a man eager to punch some face. "There's a problem with that."
Riko grins impishly, leaning over her sensei's shoulder. "You're assuming that there was -one- point to the tournament. One, singular..."
She trails off, suggestively.
"So why not list all of 'em?" Momo asks. Then, realizing she's already used up her question, rephrases herself: "I mean, you should just explain all of the points."
Oh, problems. Isn't that... uh... expected? His face setting bit as Sei says this, Hakuya glances, briefly, from the ninja to Riko, then back again. Considering he'd taken a Crown Prince directly to the face from the son of the same leader, he wasn't all that keen on being pushed around, either. And before that being, you know, beaten as though he were some kind of side of beef hanging up in a boxer's training room. The tire-iron through the shoulder aside. "So tell me them all," he says, pretty much echoing Momo.
Off to one side, Sakura seems unfazed by the fanfare. ... That's because she's focused on her game, so the bright flash is little more than a mild distraction. She seems vaguely amused by Riko's comment a few moments prior, but did little more than smirk at it. Despite appearances, she =is= paying attention.
She's already asked the ones she expected to get answers for, after all.
He points at Momo, "You now owe me three answers." He saw what you did there. Penalty!
Ryouhara, not missing much of a beat, continues in some brutal and efficient manner of fact way. "The point is simple. I had several projects I needed to complete. Your contributions were useful to that end. I suppose you'd feel used, exploited. But you should be used to it, after Masters' Neo League and Howard's Saturday Night Fight. The difference is, I've much more use for you than base entertainment. And Jinchuu's recompense is very real. You stand to benefit a /lot/ more from your contributions here than anywhere else."
"I only asked two questions, that third one doesn't count!" Momo counters. "And you owe me an answer anyway, because I got a free question, so that means I only owe you one question! That's the power of math, evil ninja!" She even points back at him dramatically... the effect somewhat ruined by her complete lack of intimidation skills.
Seishirou is unmoved. "Six answers."
Momo says, "Sentences aren't questions, I'm not asking you anything!"
The Ryouhara shinobi looks at Momo. "Seven."
"Tsk tsk," Riko chirps, waggling an admonishing finger, pursing her lips at Momo. She winks, eyelashes fluttering.
"Oooooh!" Momo growls. Her cheeks puff up and her arms cross... but it looks like Seishirou has finally succeeded in getting her to shut up, at least for the moment.
"But no more than you benefit from our labor," comes a voice to the side.
Of course, the ninjas probably knew he was there, but Soma Travedi is getting awfully good at sneaking into places. The top of the Suiryuu being something of a post-apocalyptic wasteland isn't hurting, either; plenty of places to hide. But now that he's had a chance to grill Nikolai, he's still only half-done with his interrogating... and like Hakuya, he isn't going to take evasive answers lying down, either.
The black-clad undercover detective is standing on top of a coiled girder to one side, arms crossed over his chest as he glances at the crowd from his precarious perch. If nothing else, Seishirou and Riko both have taught him the value of the dramatic entrance. "I don't think any of us is *that* stupid. Whatever you're going to get out of this is going to be worth ten times more than anything we might get... and don't try to tell me the safe deposit box is my 'gift' either, because it's just part of the script. Although, I will say, the Ferrero-Rocher," he adds in a dry tone, turning his gaze to Riko, "were delicious."
After a pause, he swivels his gaze back to Seishirou. "What, specifically, is it that *you* stand to gain from Jinchuu? Be specific."
Hakuya's getting impatient! And the little exchange between Momo and Seishirou, while normally he wouldn't mind it, is kind of making him even more impatient. So he waits a bit, his eyes focused directly on the ninja. Then, a heartbeat after Momo stops talking-- Soma speaks up. Frowning a bit, Hakuya turns his head to glance over his shoulder at the man, then back to Seishirou. Okay, so someone else was asking something he wanted to know in the first place... at least that was helpful, so for now, he just stays quiet.
"Oh," Riko interjects, stepping between Soma and Seishirou, "there's the obvious things of business. We did have a sweet TV deal from all this, and it's totally raised our profile as movers and shakers of the fighting world."
The ninja girl waves a hand - the one not gripping the loudhailer - indicating the length and breadth of the wrecked ship.
"Made quite a stir, after all! Oh, I know, I know, that's not the -only- reason, but it -is- a reason. And we got to meet sooooooo many people, so many many new friends, and now we know all about you..."
Riko tilts her head.
"But again, hey, it ain't that much different from showin' your stuff on camera, is it?"
She grins, casually making as-if to elbow Seishirou in the side, where the bandages cover his wounds. Her arm stops short of actually digging into her sensei's ribs, though. Riko's not /stupid/.
The Smoking Brit continues smoking. He'll ask his question in due time. Preston blows smoke rings to amuse himself and thinks about ribs.
Katelynn says nothing, instead simply standing off to the side idly. She's not too into what's going on here. Or maybe she is, she's just not showing it...
With Momo dealt with via his superior power of authority, Ryouhara can now attend to business. When Soma makes himself known, the ninja only turns his eyes very slightly upward to catch the detective in the side of his gaze,a stray breeze catching the end of his tattered jacket.
"I thought I told you," Seishirou starts, "That it was your duty to resolve that." Not a gift. "Don't be a fool. Everyone accepted the invitations of their own free will. That was one of the rules. If I wanted to kidnap you all, I could have." (he looks at Hakuya pointfully.)
"You're still looking for the last curtain. There isn't one. It's over. What do I stand to gain? As my apprentice mentioned.. I've already gained it. Research was done here that couldn't be done anywhere else, in any other fashion. But you /know/ that already. If everyone is looking for an itemized list.."
Ryouhara glances at Riko, "... It won't do them any good. Do you really think Jinchuu is anything more than the expression of one of the most worthwhile ideals since time began? You should understand that without me having to explain it, detective. Even Belmounte got that much."
Research was done here...? Suddenly, Momo has her hand in the air again. "Ooh, ooh!" she says loudly. "I have a real question this time that isn't about washing your hands! For serious!" But will she be allowed to ask it, after her previous shenanigans?
After a long exhale, Preston raises his voice. "If any of you guys who've already asked a question wants another, show me some money and I'll ask it for you."
Seishirou cuts Momo off, "--No." And then points at Preston. "He gets two questions."
Momo's cheeks puff again as she's so rudely cut off. "Fine!" The little girl proceeds to march over to Preston, unzips her duffel bag, and begins rooting around in it. "How much do you want, weird accent guy?"
Riko looks first at Preston, then at Momo. Then...she gives an audible snicker, her expression one of incredible amusement. She covers her mouth with a hand, doubling over, shoulders shaking. She looks up, then, her eyes twinkling with glee, shimmering with...what may or may not be reflected light.
It's hard to tell, really, looking at Riko...with all the distortion caused by the chi release spiraling in the air.
Seishirou's answer, oddly, despite all of Hakuya's bluster and wanting to beat answers out of the ninja, seems... satisfying? Blinking a little, Hakuya steps back from the Ryouhara. Just a step. But then, he raises a hand and rubs the back of his head, as though he'd just been awakened from some manner of dream. Offering a small version of one of his smiles, he nods his head. "Ah... I see..." he says, as though he really did understand it. Glancing over to Preston, he raises his eyebrows a moment and blinks again, then offers a bit more of a smile, laughing a little. "No... I think I understand... somewhat," he says, then looks back to Seishirou, giving -him- a pointed look in return. "I guess all that's left is to get my things." And, despite it all, he just... walks off.
The tall Brit squints down at the really short Momo. Preston naturally says the first thing that comes to mind; "Christ, you're short." He peers into the bag that's being rummaged through. "Half of what's in there."
That comment was... ill-chosen, to be sure. An already-annoyed Soma's face darkens at the insult threaded into Seishirou's words, and as he leaps down off the girder to advance toward the stage -- though stopping short of it -- his violet eyes flash with irritation. "I don't want to hear another word from you about what my duty is, you sad son of a bitch," Soma snarls. He's crossed a lot of rivers during this entire affair, but as he told Nikolai... just dealing with the Bratva isn't his only duty here. 'Justice' is a higher calling, as far as Soma is concerned... and he's about reached his breaking point.
A hand flies into his jacket, comes out with an ID holder, that he flips open. To Riko and Seishirou it's not exactly a surprise, but a few of the other attendees may be surprised to find a gold and blue metal badge emblazoned with the ICPO's globe-and-sword symbol next to his official ID. "Your duty is only to yourself, no matter how much you wrap it up in this pseudomystical 'Jinchuu' nonsense. I was your puppet, and I can live with that, because it helped me accomplish something I needed to be doing anyway. But locking away Nikolai Tippin -- and he will be, though perhaps not for as long as you'd like -- isn't the end of my 'duty', not by a longshot. My mandate is to prevent future crime as much as it is to stop past ones. I want to know what the *point* of this research you conducted was, considering the damn *wreckage* is still glowing. Actions in context. And I'm going to get those answers, believe me. If I have to pay for them, fine," he says, giving a smirk to Preston, before turning back to the ninja hosts. "Though I'm sure there are varying definitions of 'coin' in this case."
Meanwhile, with each passing moment, Hakuya gets further and further away from the gathering. His back turned.
With each footstep carrying him down the length of the ruined hull. He walks off, he does. Doesn't Hakuya know it's impolite to just walk away like that? Was he brought up in a barn? Tsk, the children of today, no manners. None at all. Whatever happened to tradition? The world needs more model children, more perfect specimens...
It does.
It's a soft sound. A quiet sound, drowned out by the angry conflicting voices emerging from the crowd. Too soft to be audible, at least at first. A skittering sound, something moving, scraping. It's not the sound of debris settling, though of course there's a lot of that strewn around the deck. It's not the sound of loose bits of wreckage moving in the wind, or shifting with the slight rocking motion of the sinking boat.
Riko's the only one who notices this, it seems. She jerks her head, suddenly. Standing by Seishirou's side, she freezes, blinking once, twice, three times, before a slow smile crosses her face.
"Of course," Riko says, "but before we continue with these proceedings, Agent Travedi..."
She's talking to Soma, but her eyes are on Hakuya.
"...you should know... excuse me, Suigetsu-san?"
In a sweet voice, Riko calls to the Gedo boy.
"Momo doesn't have much in here, it's mostly clothes and stuff," the tennis player says. Her back is turned to Soma, so she completely misses his DRAMATIC REVEAL, and ignores his justice rant as exactly that: a justice rant. She reaches deeper into the duffel bag, continuing to rummages... "Oh, here we go!" she exclaims. A few hundred dollar bills and a cheap necklace from a souvenir stand are drawn out. "Will this do?" she says, offering her hand to the Brit, necklace and all.
She is, of course, lying through her teeth about the contents of the bag, but that should only be between her and her employer...
Actually, Hakuya was raised in a dojo. Almost literally, just the part where people fought, not any side rooms or anything. And, being made to do chores, he'd get pummeled while doing them until he learned to dodge. And that was just to start with. So his manners aren't terribly good, but in any case, his questions were done with. And he hadn't really excused himself because frankly, while he was satisfied with what was said... he still didn't trust, nor like, Seishirou or his assistant. But when the latter calls out to him, he does stop, and look back over his shoulder. His normal vacant smile on his face, he 'hms?' at Riko, eyebrows lifting as he looks back to her.
Out of nowhere, a loud, female voice booms:
"YOU!!"
The source of said voice? One Marisol O'Connell, a perhaps familiar face to some gathered. To others, perhaps not so much. But whatever familiarity she may or may not hold, that girl looks positively furious.
And a long, calloused digit is pointing right at Momo.
Stomping forward, the redhead seems to appear out of nowhere, and her trail leads the Pacific Resistance leader toward her teammate - Preston, who appears to also be glowing for no obvious reason.
"You little brat!" the redhead bellows. "You backstabbing little tramp! How much did you get paid by that guitar-slinging whore for running away, huh?!"
Knuckles crack ominously as the half-Spaniard glares down at the much-shorter little Taiyo High tennis star.
Riko looks like she's about to reply to Hakuya. She raises the broad conical mouth of her loudhailer, toggling the switch on, and takes a breath - but whatever she says is immediately drowned out well and completely by the lungs of Marisol. Which is quite amazing, really. The other girl is -louder- than Riko's twinked out ninja megaphone.
Riko blinks once, twice, three times. She lifts a hand, rubbing the back of her head. She runs her fingers through her hair, toying with the dark strands. She draws a little circle with the conical end of her loudhailer, waving it vaguely.
"Uhhhhh," Riko murmurs, blinking yet again.
Kasugano had quietly paid attention to the folks bantering about. She had records, she had memories, she knew, generally, who was speaking at any given moment. It was easy to sort out while she was playing her puzzle game.
Marisol, though... well, she hasn't met her just yet. And she looks up with an annoyed glare.
Doesn't she know who the loudmouth's supposed to be here? Geez.
... Guitar-slinging whore, though? Hmm. Kasugano's annoyance turns into a smirk, at that.
"Hey, O'Connell!" she barks, noting Riko's dismay. "You gonna ask a question, or just stand there flappin' your lip? This here's a real organized q-and-a session, y'know!"
What's that? A speech going on? Preston favors rants more than speeches, so he simply casts a glance in Soma's direction as the badge flashing and the rest goes on; he doesn't care for the gist of it, which is precisely why he's offering up his question(s) for money. "Ah, got two questions," he murmurs in that accent of his, after Seishirou lets him have another. The transaction seems about to take place, with him about to take the offered money and necklace, when...
"Hullo hullo hullo, what's all this then?" the Brit asks instead, as his teammate comes in with her beligerent finger-pointing. He cracks his knuckles, hand withdrawing from taking the offered goods. He shakes his head, and looks over towards Soma. "You payin' or what there, son? This ain't gonna count as extortion or anythin' like that, is it?"
"You'd think that, wouldn't you." Ryouhara mentions to Soma. Though.. is that really the end of the story?
As an aside, Seishirou answers for Riko--Hakuya's politeness seems to disarm quite a few people. Of course, a raging spaniard probably had something to do with it.
"Stick around," is all he asks. "You don't want to go out there."
Things are getting rather intense, though, now. With Soma's displeasure and Hakuya leaving, and Marisol and Momo about to fight and Sakura about to join them. "I think it's time for a little introductory course," he reasons subtly.
"Uhhhh..." Momo says, blinking in surprise as she's suddenly yelled at. She recognizes the voice, if not the face it's coming from: that's the girl who claimed to be taking over Blackjack! "She paid me what I was owed?" the girl says, the answer more a suggestion than anything else. Looks like she won't have much time to wait for Preston. "Here, take the monies and ask why they were building like a bazillion Robomomos," she says quickly, stuffing the hundreds and the dinky little necklace into the oarsman's waistband (what!?). "Seeya!"
Unsurprisingly, the tennis player chooses that moment to RUN THE HELL AWAY from Marisol.
Soma's eyes were locked on Riko as well, tensed... especially when she smiled out of nowhere. Then Marisol barrels in and one eyebrow goes up in confusion; before he turns to see who spoke, he mouths 'guitar-slinging whore' a couple times soundlessly. THEN he turns and notices Marisol, who he's met before, and blinks. After a second he seems to process Preston's question, though his *eyes* are on Momo. Why is she panicking? "Uh, no. Strictly speaking it'd be bribery, but since you're not a public official I can get the money out of petty cash." Apparently he has a sense of humor after all. "But Herr Kommisar appears to have something to say first, apparently."
"Oh," Riko says, "yes, he does."
The ninja girl speaks into her loudhailer, her voice echoing over the deck.
"Please, everyone," Riko continues, "calm down - O'Connell-san, you especially."
As Riko's amplified voice blares over the scene... there's another noise, not just the distortion and feedback from her megaphone. There's that skittering. It's louder now. The sound rapidly reaches a level where it's...quite hard to ignore. A scratching, a chittering, the kind of noise that scrapes like nails across a blackboard, like the whine of a dentist's drill - a sensation tearing across the senses, down to the primordial spine. The how and why are hard to quantify. Maybe it's just the pitch, just the frequency, but...
...it's there, all the same.
"As to that last question, though," Riko says, nodding to Momo and Preston, "I should warn you..."
And then the reason for the noise becomes apparent.
The crowd is standing upon the wrecked main deck of the Suiryuu. Amidst the debris, the fallen masts, the planks of splintered wood and twisted metal. But some of that wreckage...begins to /shift/, pieces of the ruins moving. Subtly at first, and then not so subtly. The sound blends smoothly into the whirring of mechanisms, the clacking of gears, the twang of springs compressing and wires going taut...
From all around, surrounding the crowd...the debris /rises/, taking shape and form, as figures rise from the deck. A clockwork parody of the dead, spindly humanoid specters forged from wood and brass, cold steel.
Glowing eyes flicker to life - circular orbs igniting upon what passes, for them, as faces. Unblinking, unseeing, above expressions painted in permanent doll-faced smiles.
None of them are intact. None of them are whole. Each and every one is broken, shattered, but standing all the same. Torn pink dresses hang off their bodies, some shredded, some little more than rags and stitched sackcloth. Most clutch the remains of racquets, stripped of their strings, frames and handles bent.
"...you don't want to waste your money," Riko concludes. With a smile.
M0M0 has connected.
[OOC] M0M0 :)
[OOC] M0M0 :) :) :)
[OOC] Hotaru ._.;
[OOC] Seishirou says, "chisel in the background: "I KNEW IT SEE""
Hakuya seems more perplexed that Marisol, uh, exists than by the fact she manages to be louder than the ninja megaphone. Blinking a few times over and over, not really seeming to be all that able to pull his senses together. For a bit, anyway. It's about when Seishirou begins to talk to him that he seems to focus some. Stick around...? He doesn't want to... uh, go anywhere? What? Edging forward a bit, closer to the group, he glances from the ninja over to Marisol... and, well, he's not one to always do as he's told, but when someone like Seishirou tells you not to wander off... you better just do it, right? So he walks forward and moves-- more over to where Sakura is. He doesn't want to face Marisol at the moment. He just doesn't. He doesn't want her to start yelling at him, too. So being as quiet as he dares, he'll just stand over there. Yessir.
But he can't prepare for the reason Seishirou tells him not to go out into the hallway. Debris forming into... what? Dolls? His eyes opening a little wider, his mouth hanging open some too, the Suigetsu heir can only just -blink- at wtf is happening. "Uh..."
"Formal question and answer, huh?" the redhead muses aloud, a finger tapping against her chin. But the moment of seeming patience from Marisol fades quickly enough - soon after, that nigh-furious expression coming to the surface easily once more. Gray eyes are locked on Momo once more, her full lips pulled into a tight line.
"PAID you what you were OWED? What the hell!? Why is a little squirt engaging in such behavior, anyway?!" Pausing, the redhead exhales, shoulders rising and falling heavily. Then she's off again. "I don't want money! I want revenge for that little stint!!"
But it would seem her imposing Briton buddy has a question for her, to which she responds by snapping her gaze over her shoulder. "What's this, huh Preston? This little brat screwed Tenma and I over, that's what!" A finger remains thrust at Momo. "She ran away instead of helping us when we needed her help. I refuse to let her get away without at least a black eye - okay, I know."
Gray eyes flicker to Sakura.
"Hey, here's a question. Can I beat this little punk black and blue without getting in trouble?"
But Momo is...running away?
"Where are you going to go!?" Marisol calls. "The ship is sinking in the middle of the goddamned sea!" Riko's remark, however, earns the curious ninja-girl a cold glance. But when the ship moves, and mechanical Momos or SOMETHING come to life, Marisol's features falter.
"It's like someone is angry at me, and wants me to suffer," she concludes aloud, glaring at the shitty likenesses of the little backstabbing Tennis Star!
"Christ, buy me dinner first," Preston says as the waistband to his tattered slacks -- about the only thing he's wearing -- is tugged and the money rather unceremoniously shoved down them. A hand goes to the newfound jewels in his pants, and he fishes them out, twirling them on a finger. Watching as Momo then takes off though, he sighs and shakes his head. The situation is explained to him... and he grunts down at Marisol.
Attention shifting back to Soma, he gives the law enforcer a slight nod before waiting to see what else is being said. That's theoretically one of two questions taken... although whether he'll honor the bargain just struck by the apparent betrayer, well; that will have to wait!
And wait it will, as the debris shifts to allow those decrepit little Real Dolls to rise to life. "Oh, that's a little twisted fetish," he comments to himself, oar shifting across his shoulders. Does he get to send them all overboard?!
"Momo is short and fits into air vents!" the tennis player counters as she scrambles over some debris, hiding behind a twisted I-beam to get something between her and Marisol. "And has no idea what you're talking about! Nobody told Momo what was going on!" And then the dead begin to walk again, the girl becoming visually agitated (as opposed to fearful at the thought of Marosil-beatdown). "THAT IS CHEATING," she loudly declares. "I blew you all up, you're gone now! Go back to being broken!"
The Taiyo-uniformed security chief smirks back at Marisol, shrugging as she gestures to the growing creepy zombielike M0M0 army. As if one creepy Momo wasn't enough! "Eh... at least wait till Sei and Riko are done. Then she's fair game, okay?"
"But still, geez. It ain't over till the fat lady sings, and... well, maybe that's just another one of their crazy steampunk costumes, who knows?" Kasugano glances over towards Riko, afterwards, shaking her head with a knowing grin. She didn't think Riko would turn their hand so soon, after all!
But then she looks back to Seishirou. "Hey, doesn't look like Marisol wants to use her question. Does she get a prize or something?"
She looks -oddly complacent- through all this! Though that might be because she looks right back down at her puzzle game afterwards. Bleep bleep blorp.
Dispassionate about the various reactions of the crowd, Seishirou's voice takes an almost academic lilt to it. "I suppose that should be enough for now of the questions..." After all, if he had to take questions for EVERYONE, with the sudden army, he'd be here quite awhile.
"I beleive you wanted to see a list. Let me introduce you to an item off of it. Ban-kun model beta revision six," he finally explains. As much as that can be considered an explanation. "Modeled from the tennis player's data, because her body most closely fit the initial specifications of the Ban-kun and her data was the easiest to retrieve fresh samples of. I /did/ expect them to be destroyed in .. at least one of the explosions, but... it would seem that the ship's reaction .. did exactly the opposite."
He shakes his head. "Doesn't matter. This will be simple. No one leaves until Jinchuu is complete. No one defies our word until Jinchuu is complete. We'll evacuate after we crown a champion, and no later. Attempting to circumvent ship policy at this point is highly likely to get you mobbed and beaten by a small army. This was the intent of implementing the Suiryuu Protocol. Despite the goings-on, we /will/ see the event through to its conclusion. There is no other alternative for any of us. That's the point--" Ryouhara suddenly doubles over, a hand raising to cough violently into a handkerchief. One -- might be able to see a spray of blood there from the edges.
Sniffing, he recovers. "...Though, initially, We were just going to have Kasugano beat anyone who gave us lip," he finally admits, with a sidelong glance at the Taiyo girl. ".. Still. If O'Connell wants to snap Momo's neck after we get ashore.."
Shrug.
"But for now," Riko says, grinning impishly, "we want peace and tranquility on board! No fighting until the tourney's over! Except for the people in the match, mmkay? We don't want to rock the boat or anything. Literally."
"'cause we're all sunk if you folks make problems. So don't. Ooooorrr...."
Souless eyes stare blankly at the assembled fighters, on deck. Limbs move, slowly, ratcheting, rotating at the shoulders, bending at the elbows. The multitude of mechanical creations heft their racquets, twirling them in the air. In lieu of fingers, hinged clamps tighten on wrapped grips, while others screw the battered sports equipment directly into mounting sockets at the end of their arms.
"...well," Riko gestures, "you know."
[OOC] Soma says, "...so the whole point of all that chi was an army of transvestite Robo-Kys?"
[OOC] The Momo :(
[OOC] Seishirou says, "LOLI transvestite Robo-Kys."
[OOC] Sakura says, "But about as flat, yeah."
...well then.
After a second, observing the tennisbots -- of which he had heard but not experiences -- in all their tattered glory, Soma can't help but put a hand to his forehead and laugh. This isn't the true secret of Jinchuu, he suspects... probably a side-effect. In a world where crime syndicates have perfectly functional humanoid robots, after all, an army of steampunk lolis doesn't seem high on the threat meter. "I half expect them to start murmuring 'oil can' any second now..."
Shaking his head, he turns to Riko and Seishirou, glancing at them carefully. "You seem to have me characterized as someone out to get you... well, not just you," he finally adds, smirking somewhat. "I wonder, though, is that really a good read of my intentions? But thanks for the good show, regardless."
"I'll find something even smaller to stuff your ass into when I'm done beating the hell out of you!" the half-Spaniard Pacific girl calls out as Momo scrambles away, to hide behind debris. Will an I-beam, however twisted and distorted it may be from the explosion, be enough to keep the clearly-pissed Marisol at bay? Probably not. But that's beside the point. FOR NOW.
However, as Sakura regards the redhead, the girl responds with a slight frown, eyes hooding uncertainly. Wait? Wait for her vengeance? That's not very fair, but she'll have to play by the rules or something for the time being. Besides, there's something else currently. Apparently little Momo has ugly siblings. It just seems the traitorous little tennis player doesn't LIKE them.
When the in-charge figure here speaks up, particularly about the weird, really badly made Momos, the half-Spaniard's gaze is on the ninja. They want a champion? Saying nothing, the girl just watches. What's best, he gives her his blessing to maim the fourteen year old girl. But when Riko explains and more or less threatens them...
Well...you know. Marisol just kind of stands by her teammate.
"Momo's neck is not for snapping!" the girl says from her hiding spot. "Momo just got caught up in something big and confusing." She sniffles cutely, tears starting to well up in her eyes... eyes which are focused more on the M0M0s than Marisol now. At least she managed to utterly destroy M0M0 Prime. Even if these other soulless automatons are still shuffling about, they're just drones, and not masochistic Momo-maiming machines.
Discovering that his cigarette is actually wet and that he's been inhaling wet tobacco this entire time -- oh, the wonders of chi -- the Brit grimaces and flicks it off to the side. Taking one of the hundred's out of his waistband, he rolls it up, and then again leans towards the closest source of visible chi to light the money. "Mmm, ink fumes," Preston rather pleasantly hums to himself, taking a long drag from the source of wealth.
The spinning necklace is lifted to his neck, and he asks the closest person -- Marisol -- the rather obvious question. "So how do I fuckin' look with this thing, huh? Here, Mari. I'm gonna give you a pearl necklace. Don't say I never fuckin' gave you anythin'."
Lobbing the necklace at his teammate, he listens as the officials say what they've got to, and offers a shrug; "Hey, if you guys wanna build an army of real dolls, I'm not surprised. I've seen some of those filthy little 'hen tai' rags you Japs publish. I'm sure this is lifted right out of the pages of 'em." Snuffing his cigarette, it seems he's hardly fussed by all of this. Honestly it's better to just pretend that's background chatter at this stage.
Snuffing his makeshift cigarette out, Preston cracks his monstrous knuckles. "There any ribs left after that big nasty explosion that's made me blacker'n that Birdie fella?"
All the while, Katelynn hasn't really said much, just gone along with the flow of things. Not getting too interactive mind you, since apparently she's not too big on what's going on right now. Then again, she could be putting on a poker face for everyone...
Kasugano's been rather... comparatively collected through all this. Sure, maybe not as much as Hakuya, but still.
Once Preston starts running his mouth, though, Sakura looks up at him with a rather -disgusted- expression, to the point she even pauses her game and lowers the handheld for a moment.
She holds her open palm out to him, directing a pleading expression first at Seishirou, then Riko, as if to silently suggest, 'Pleeeeease? Just one little Hadouken?'
Riko purses her lips. She shares a look with Sakura, then turns to eye Preston as well. She holds a finger up...and then turns to Seishirou, continuing the chain of pleading puppy-dog eyes. Or quite possibly Bambi eyes. Choice of cute animal, anyway.
Meanwhile, the assembled army of robotic tennis players stand there, ominious and silent.
For the most part, Momo seems to be forgotten in favor of the newly arrived army of M0M0s, as well as the vague threats issued by the tournament curators. Instead, Marisol's gray eyes idly drift between the soulless automatons, then the ninja present, then - briefly - Sakura, before they fall back onto the robots. Fortunately for Hakuya, he goes unnoticed for the time being!
But when the smell of burning paper fills her nose, the half-Spaniard girl shifts her attention back onto the imposing Briton at her side. Then an elbow plants into his ribs. "You dumbass, stop smoking the bills. Are you trying to kill yourself or something," she harshly whispers.
But when he presents the necklace to his throat, those gray eyes absently roll in response. But when that neckless is chucked AT her, she lets it simply fall to the ground at her feet. For a minute, she says nothing. Then it dawns on her.
Another elbow lodges into Preston's side. "That's DISGUSTING," she practically squeals, before giving his side another harsh elbow. "Shut up, people are looking at you." And that may draw attention to her as well - but likely not, considering the robots glaring menacingly at everyone present. That means they'll just have to wait the tourney out...
Rather oblivious to it all, Preston simply squints back at Sakura. And then at Riko. And then he's nudged in the ribs, or rather brutally elbowed, and he staggers to one side after the second to clutch at his wound. "Christ, give a girl a gift and she elbows you in the fuckin' ribs," he grouses, as only he can -- well, not that a British accent is very specific anymore. They're like weeds now, springing up everywhere.
"I'd be disturbed if you weren't," Seishirou states of Soma, with a perfect transparency exceedingly uncharacteristic of the shinobi. He steps down from his perch suddenly and without warning, his body shifting just a little with the motion. "Means we weren't doing a good enough job." Pause. "I think that that concludes our session today," he ends brightly. "You should probably be expecting these things to be.. well.. pretty much everywhere on what's left of our ship. They're kind of primitive, so they're attracted to chi. Long story short. Don't fight unless we say so."
Seishirou pauses, looking at his two doe-eyed staff.
Even /he/ seems to be giving it a certain amount of practical consideration. ... But finally, he shakes his head 'no.' He raises a finger. "Wait until we get off the boat." And with that, the captain makes his way off the deck, unbelting that cane to support him. Seems like at least part of that limp as Hiretsu was real. Or made real. HE did have it when he first met everyone at the Suiryuu's debut. It might also be noticed that some of the units actually.. /make way/ for him when he passes. Of course, it's probably a courtesy they'd extend to most anyone. It's just weird when he does it. -somehow he's expecting nothing less-.
Pause.
Ryouhara stops, noting Katelynn's perfect poker face and disinterest in the assembly, no more than three feet away from her. The shinobi defines contemplation.
He reaches out a hand, and pats her fondly on the head, without warning. "Nice kitty."
Then he leaves.
Log created on 18:54:10 10/25/2007 by Riko, and last modified on 23:28:26 10/25/2007.