Description: K' searches out Vanessa, having finally seen her ill-fated SNF with Igniz and Whip. The boxer is unable to answer his major concern-- where his sister is-- but there are plenty of other things to be discussed. This does not mean, however, that K' is capable of discussing any of them civilly.
Shanghai Sports Bar. It looks, on the inside, rather shockingly opulent for a place that doesn't seem that impressive on the outside. It is a bar not really for the rough-and-tumble crowd one might expect to meet at something called something like "Shanghai Sports Bar," to be sure.
Still, it does have some patrons who have a thing for a good brawl, and chief among those tonight is, perhaps, the boxer Vanessa. Vanessa has had a tough time of it - her "dark past" (or at least, some of it) brought to light, kidnapped and then forced to fight an evil psychic ubermensch twice, hounded by reporters she still hasn't seen fit to grant an interview to to the point where she's reportedly spent at least a few nights away from her own home...
It is a small wonder that she is currently conscious enough to sit mostly upright. She's in one of the lounges, currently all on her own because nobody wants to mess with a drunken, tired Vanessa. There is a half-empty bottle of scotch on the table in front of her, which also bears the weight of Vanessa's feet, as she slumps down in the chair, a glass held limp in one hand.
She squints at the big plasma TV above, perhaps wondering if she can make it change channels with the power of her mind. The experiment does not yield much result.
There aren't many people in the world foolish enough to mess with drunken, tired Vanessas, no. But nonetheless, such rash and impetuous souls do exist in the world... and one of them has been looking for the red-headed fighter for a few days now, ever since he finally found out just what it was happened to her and her assigned partner in their last SNF.
K' had discovered a little about the woman named Vanessa, but nothing so useful as her address or an easy-- and quick-- means of contacting her. But he did know enough about her to know that his best bet of finding her was to ask around in the bars of Southtown. The silver-haired young man stops into the Shanghai Sports Bar towards this end with a quiet, assertive air, passing through the entryway without incident. Everyone knows he's a year or two too young to even be in here, but nobody really wants to test their luck in trying to throw him out.
Shrugging his windblown leather jacket on a little straighter, K' hooks one hand into the pocket of his dark blue jeans and removes his shades with the other. He doesn't have to look around long before he spots distinctive red hair and the woman's recognizable face. The woman's air of 'don't trouble me' doesn't seem to bother or faze him. He just hooks the arm of his shades into the front of his black shirt, narrows his eyes on her, and then starts on over.
With the insolent presumptuousness only a teenager could have, he invites himself right into the chair opposite her own, slouches a little into his seat, and just stares at her a second: as if mentally confirming. "...You're Vanessa," he eventually starts. It could, with some imagination, be deemed a 'question.'
Vanessa doesn't look up for a second. She brings the glass of scotch up to her lips, as K' sits down, and pointedly tips her chin up to stare at the television hanging from the ceiling, even as she downs the remainder of the glass.
He says her name, and she glares at him, then hurls the glass at him - not with any real fighting intent, though. In fact, if he bothers to put his hand out, it will be easy enough for a man like K' to catch it. "I can already tell," she mutters, voice half-slurred, "that you won't go away if I tell you to."
She holds up one black-gloved hand, waving someone over to get her a fresh glass. "What do you want?"
A *clink* breaks the silence. It's the sound of the thrown glass slamming into a metal-sheathed palm. K''s hand, lifted in the space of an instant to snatch the receptacle out of the air, gives before the impact just enough so that the glass won't simply shatter. Long fingers shut shortly thereafter, securing the glass so it doesn't bounce away and escape his grasp.
Very thoughtfully, K' slowly puts the glass down on the table. He considers it a moment, as if trying to decide whether or not to be offended over its manner of delivery; and then, presently, he does something so bold as to appropriate Vanessa's half-empty scotch bottle. Very slowly, with that measured and deliberate calm only true assholes can attain, he pours himself a shot.
Now, as far as he's concerned, they're even.
"I saw your fight with Igniz," he replies eventually. No one could ever accuse K' of taking his time getting to the point; he himself never sees any particular reason to waste time on such unnecessary niceties as greetings or exchanging of names. "I want to know who exactly he is, what he said, and what he did to Whip." His eyes narrow perceptibly on that last name, as if saying it stung him. "You're back-- but she's not. I haven't seen or heard from her. I need to know where she is."
A period of silence. Then, remembering that he's perhaps not the most trustworthy-looking person around-- or even old enough to really be taken seriously-- he offers as an afterthought, "I've got business with his organization. Judging from your reaction to him, you'd probably understand." He doesn't elaborate on what 'business' is, but from the look in his eyes-- the same yellowy-red color as the scotch glinting in the bottle-- it would seem it involves violence.
Vanessa doesn't really object when K' steals a shot of scotch. She probably meant the toss as a somewhat confrontational offer. Alternately, she was making sure her hand-eye coordination is still good enough to knock K' into the stone age, if need be. Tomato, tomato...
"Tch," she mutters, as K' cuts straight to the point. "No 'I'm your biggest fan?' No 'I'm excited by your nubile physique despite your advancing age?'" She grunts, and then snaps her hand out, catching another glass as some poor employee shows up with it. She grabs the scotch as soon as K' is done, pulling it over and pouring. "I guess it's nice to be able to cut to the point, once in a while."
She brings the glass up to her lips, and says, "I haven't seen Whip since we got off the plane in Southtown. I think she was gonna get a lift to some Ikari basecamp. I wasn't in any mood to ask questions. As for that man..."
She looks K' in the eye. "Does the word NESTS mean anything to you?" she asks, drinking.
"I haven't got the time or patience to waste on that," is K''s immediate, severing reply to her sardonic musings, his yellow eyes narrowing perceptibly. Not a kid with a sense of humor, this one. But instead of elaborating on his reasons for desiring brusqueness, he opts to just take a drink as she ruminates on the benefits of his direct approach, nosing discreetly into the glass with a sniff to see what he's getting into first.
But though his eyes have, for the moment, cut away, he is still listening very closely. How closely is soon shown by the demanding nature of his quick questions. Apparently this level of detail is simply insufficient for his tastes. "The last time you saw her-- was that before or after you 'disappeared.' You were both gone for several days... where? Why?" Mentally, he considers getting in touch with the Ikari-- but no, that would be too dangerous, and might force him to reveal her secret to them.
She'd never forgive him that.
But the return of the subject to Igniz causes his eyes to sharpen back on hers. His yellow gaze smokes with an immediate hatred at the name, a triggered instinct clear to see in all the anger built up under his skin. "NESTS was responsible for stealing my life." A sort of smirk knifes its way along his mouth with a humorless sharpness. "How about yours?"
Vanessa's lighthearted attitude doesn't lighten up in the face of those primal eyes. If anything, she becomes /aggressively/ laid back, spreading her arms out along the length of her chair, smirking lazily.
"Yes," she says. Despite her casual posture, her eyes are harder than granite, cold and unwavering. "They took everything from me. They took my husband. They took my future. They took everything I wanted my life to be. So they're responsible for those flames, then."
Looks like she knows who K' is, after all.
"I can tell you a few things about them...but probably nothing you don't already know." She takes a drink of her scotch. When she's done, she adds, "As for Whip, we were both taken captive by some asshole with a fortress in the jungle. We beat him down and he, eh, 'gave us' our freedom." At high velocity. Psycho Crusher does not feel like hugs.
She frowns, and then slugs back the rest of the scotch, making only a mild face as it goes down. "I was knocked unconscious. Whip and I were dumped off in Southtown, and we went our separate ways. I've been meaning to check on her, but, uh."
She pauses, and motions at the bottle.
"I've been a little preoccupied."
K''s hand-- the right one-- grinds shut about the glass. The thing emits a squeak of protest; K' ignores its pleadings. Yet another person whose life was destroyed by this organization. What does that bring the count to? Himself. Whip. Shurui. Now Vanessa. Who knows how many others? K', selfish and cold as he is, could even find it in himself to extend the category to those still chained down by NESTS: Krizalid, K9999. All the others still slaving for them. He might have been able to feel some pity for THEIR ruined lives, but the fact they embraced them and now willingly work for NESTS-- rather than running, as he did-- means they will never be recipients of his mercy.
He looks neither sympathetic, callous, nor shocked at the mention of her husband's murder. His expression fails to change from that mask of frozen anger; he just pours himself another shot, in silence. It's just another story entirely too like all those others whose lives have been intruded into by that cartel. His lack of affectation is his own way of respecting what she lost.
But an evasive look cuts across his face at her mention of his fire, his expression souring and his lean frame slumping back defensively as she reveals a greater knowledge than he had expected. "...how do you know about--" It's obvious what he's talking about: that holy fire of his. It's not common knowledge the flames are not natural to him, not as far as he knows. Looks like he doesn't know that Igniz -proclaimed- to Vanessa and Whip-- that he was the one who 'gifted' K' with the flames of the Kusanagi-- but then, one can't fault the boy. There -were- no audio feeds in that match.
And as for the aftermath... K' frowns, visibly flipping through his knowledge of 'fortresses in the jungle.' The Ikari do keep a fortress in the jungle, so to speak, but they couldn't be it. Perhaps some smaller group-- or just an eccentric psycho. It certainly couldn't be that -other- terror that lurked in the jungle, once: that was resolved. Wasn't it? "...I don't know about that."
He focuses, briefly, back on Whip. "...so you don't know where she is." He almost looks disappointed for one unguarded moment, before a stern harshness locks his expression into one far too old for his young features again. "I'll find her myself." That settled, he's silent a moment, before he just continues on. "Igniz. Did he say who he was, within the cartel? Anything about their intentions?" Fighting in a sanctioned fight-- attempting to lure Shurui back-- that's the work of field agents, like he himself once was. But that -strength- Igniz displayed. Either NESTS's engineering feats have become great enough to produce agents like Igniz... or the man himself is someone of influence in the cartel. And if he's someone of influence, then why is he showing himself; and is he important enough, that if he was killed...?
A speculatory light has entered those yellow eyes.
Vanessa grins. "I am what I am because of them," she murmurs. "They took everything from me. Everything I ever wanted, just...gone. And it's his fault."
She holds her glass up, making a sweeping gesture with that hand. "He told us," she explains. "Said he's the one that ordered my husband's murder. Said he...did whatever he did to Whip. I don't really understand that one. Another ruined life...knowing what I do about NESTS, I can only imagine what she went through. And..."
She turns her gaze away from the glass and back to K'. "He said he's responsible for your Kusanagi fire. I'd figured that one out already, though. Just wasn't sure how to corner you without getting my shirt tie scorched."
She leans forward, putting the glass down. The conversation has sobered her up a little, it seems. Those eyes are only slightly dulled by liquor. She could probably still fight even someone like K' impressively, in this state. "I don't remember if he said what he was. Took a few too many blasts to the head that night. But from what I do remember...he's definitely a ranking member. Maybe even the top."
K' toys with his glass absently as Vanessa talks. He had certainly not expected this level of forthrightness from NESTS personnel; especially from someone near the TOP in rank. But then again, perhaps that rank is why he's able to sling about such information left and right. Perhaps this Igniz is that goal K' has been working towards for the past three years: the one he has to execute in order to lop off the head of the snake.
The prospect, years ago, would have sent K' haring instantly after Igniz, throwing himself foolishly against the man like fire crashing against rock. These days, however, it just narrows his eyes a little. If there's anything time, the real world, and Maxima have taught the brash young man, it's the value of a little bit of premeditation in one's life.
Of course, there are still those triggers that'll set him off instantly. Kyo comes to mind. But then again, failing against Kyo doesn't usually mean painful death.
He says nothing about his fire, but the way his eyes narrow on the subject suggests fairly clearly that it's a sore topic Vanessa had best not address. He doesn't volunteer to show it or talk about it. Instead, he just abruptly pushes his glass away and straightens in his seat, signifying he's just about run through all he wanted to discuss. He can't waste too much time here-- he's got to find Whip. There's some things he's got to know before she disappears off his radar. "If he's the top," he eventually replies coldly, "that just means I know what to aim for now."
His gaze lights consideringly on Vanessa. He's not really the type to trust anyone to watch his back except Maxima, and if he COULD he'd just go it alone against NESTS. But pragmatism has long ago forced him to recognize the benefits of keeping a string of contacts on call; even if he doesn't trust a single one of them. "You can keep in touch if you want," he grants graciously, as if the ability to talk to him were a distinct privilege he could bestow or revoke. "Cause you're not the only one who's got problems with NESTS. But you tell anyone anything about me, or offer my secrets around, and I'll kill you."
So much for his personable air.
"So you're not curious, then?" Vanessa ponders, with a sly kind of grin. "Well, you don't seem the type to be curious. And I still have a few secrets of my own." She just leans back in her chair, eyes sparkling as she ponders this meeting - the implications, what it means...
"Your secrets are safe with me. I don't like to spread things like this without a good reason." Like freakin' Igniz announcing everything on GLOBAL TELEVISION. jerk.
"I'll say this, though," Vanessa adds, giving K' a much more serious look - eyes narrowing, leaning forward intently. "Don't do it alone. He's fucked up your life, but he's done that to a lot of people. Me and Whip couldn't take him even working together, even if it was just an SNF blind match. There are people who can help us coordinate."
Curious, she asks. "About what?" K' snorts uncharitably in reply, flopping back in his seat with his characteristic charm: like he's already convinced the conversation is mostly over. "Your life? What he did to you?" A gloved right hand comes to rest on the chair's arm, K' slanting his gaze up through his lashes to regard the older woman. "Frankly, I don't care. Everybody's got something that was taken from them. It's not my business or problem to know the specifics."
A pause. There -is- something else she could have been referring to. "As for what he did to -Whip-..." He shrugs, and admits, "Well. I know -that- already."
Her admonitions aren't anything he hasn't heard already, and in fact it isn't precisely in his plan to go off and chase Igniz alone now. He knows full well, much as it stings his pride to admit, that haring after Igniz would just be stupid at this juncture. Better to finish that training with Geese, get his own power under control, and then go from there.
No, those cautions of hers he simply tunes out. It's her last little comment which catches his attention, his yellow eyes studying her with an abrupt focus. "Like who? If you got anything else to say, any other 'secrets' you want to spill, now's the time..."
"Hah," Vanessa says, and for the first time in the entire conversation, bothers to look around for listeners. She finds a few, whom she proceeds to grin at in a usual slightly unhinged way until they decide that it would be better to go away and not come back soon.
"I'm talking about the same thing you are, in a way," she says, finally returning her attention to K'. She huffs out a sigh, hunkers down with elbows on her knees, and says, "You don't think I really went from housewife to top-tier boxer on my own, did you? I had help. There's people who've been hunting NESTS for /years/. They're...not quite in the Ikari, but they do business together, sometimes. They're where I learned things - like what NESTS is, and how to spot their hand in things. That partner of yours...Maxima, right? He's one too, isn't he?"
She cocks an eyebrow, pointedly.
"With Heidern and my own bosses gone underground, I've been trying to get in touch with the Ikari for months. And what do you know, I go and meet Whip the same day Igniz shows his face again..."
She shrugs. "Anyway, I have an interest in finding her too. About time I stop boozing it up and get my head back in the game, I guess."
Again, things circle back to the Ikari. Or at least, to people related to the Ikari. K''s yellow eyes half-lid at the name, recognition printed under his lashes. He doesn't address her reference to Maxima: his silence is affirmation enough of her pointed comment.
"I don't suppose you're gonna tell me who they are," he huffs annoyedly, mildly irritated at the evasive manner in which she's talking. "Whatever. I've been meaning to discuss things with the Ikari myself anyway; but they don't seem big on talking to strangers." He sounds profoundly unimpressed by this, though it's uncertain whether he actually disagrees with the concept of discretion; he is probably annoyed at it solely because it inconveniences him.
And then the conversation gets back on something else that inconveniencing him right now. "About time," he agrees uncharitably with Vanessa's musings, the chide hilarious when coming from a boy practically half her age. Pushing out of his chair and shoving his hands in his pockets, he circles around behind his erstwhile seat, leaning against the chair's back and frowning at the redhead. "She's liable to do something real stupid if not found soon."
Vanessa chuckles. "Better to keep a few things quiet," she notes. "With a group like NESTS as our enemy...I'm not saying we shouldn't share information, but there's always that danger of one person getting caught and then the whole thing blows up."
She's been well-trained, after all. Keeping data out of the hands of an enemy like NESTS seems pretty basic, these days.
"I'll try and get you a meeting. Heck, maybe we can go together. I have some contact spots for them." Which she isn't sharing, her grin says. Well, to be expected. It's the Ikari, after all.
And then K' has the TEMERITY to chide Vanessa about her drinking habits!? The Boxing Queen...chuckles, finally rising herself, stretching casually with no regard whatosever for what it does to the bloodflow of those around her. "Yeah, she seemed pretty messed up last time I saw her...I wasn't really in a condition to say much, at the time. I've had my time to grieve, though. 'Bout time to get back on the ball."
She shifts her head to one side, gesturing to the door. "Well, then, Dash, shall we go?"
Suspicion flickers like a banked fire under his lashes as Vanessa talks. Her mention of the dangers of one being caught and ruining everything for the rest meet with a light snort, K' certainly not unforthcoming when it comes to the expression of derision. "You assume that I'd either let myself get caught alive," K' muses, "or that I'd talk. Both unlikely. But then..." One lounging elbow slips off the seat back, a hand reaching for his everpresent pack of cigarettes. Deft fingers pull a smoke free. "I guess I can't deny the virtues of being paranoid."
Vanessa stretches to her feet, and all around the bar eyes turn in subtle unison. Even K' has himself a look. Under the harshness, under the experimentation, under the paranoia born of a rough and bleak past, he's still a teenaged boy, and he has his impulses even if he doesn't really think about or act on them. The difference between him and an average teenager is that K' only looks for about a second before he dismisses what he sees... his attention returning with a ready efficiency to what the woman's got to say.
The boy settles his cigarette in the crook of a sudden, cold smirk. "You contact me before the next time you go," he enjoins in a remarkably unimpeded drawl; it seems as if he's had a lot of practice talking around smokes. A lift of a gloved hand and a flick of fingers sparks a miniscule flame from his very fingertips, and it's with that fire of his he lights his cigarette. He probably likes to think the flippance of this usage would make any real Kusanagi have an aneurysm.
Then-- speaking of temerity-- the woman gives him a cute nickname. Displeasure cuts immediately across his expression, pooling thickly in all the shadows that slide across his face when his chin dips in irritation, but ultimately he seems to find it not worth the bother of pitching a hissy fit. "I don't know about 'we,'" he replies coolly, pushing away from the chair and straightening to his customary indolent slouch, "but -I'm- done here..." And with that, without even waiting for Vanessa, he starts towards the door. She can follow him if she likes, but being paid attention to is no real guarantee.
Log created on 22:38:58 04/26/2008 by K', and last modified on 07:50:35 04/27/2008.