Description: Aquaintances from her past prove to be more than that when Ayame finds herself in the greatest of need. An offer is made and accepted, and life takes a rare pleasant turn for the normally misanthropic girl.
With day reaching its inevitable end, Southtown begins to close its proverbial doors. From a busy and bustling metropolis the city slowly becomes embraced in a far more subdued and quiet air. Men and women scurry home to their homes, and with the last of day's light shops begin to close.
But for some, with the curtain of night slowly rising, the day is only beginning.
On a relatively quiet stretch of city block stands a woman of obvious Asian descent, clad from head to toe in black expensive threads. Taking up refuge in front of a nightclub that has only begun to prepare for the late night opening to come, she seems content in simply standing around with little more than an expensive-looking cellular phone in hand. Occasionally its LCD screen flickers, and occasionally the woman replies in text.
Otherwise? Shihong Mao doesn't stand out. But her reasons for being here, well...
Glancing up from the display of her phone, the enforcer's rouge lips pull into a thin, pensive line across her pale face. It has been quite some time since she'd seen or heard from the infamous little conartist slash thief that's earned quite a reputation. Surely she's all right? She has to be--the girl can hold her own.
And that's precisely why Shihong Mao sought to get in touch with the girl and call her out to the heart of Southtown. It was a bit of work, trying to finagle contacts throughout the city, but with hope her message was sent and received.
But will the girl show up?
Or will she leave Shihong Mao out in the cold..?
Indeed, the girl has seemed to disappear as of late. The last broadcast, sanctioned match she had shown up in was well over two months ago, and not a trace of her had been heard of since. Given her propsensity for making enemies and getting into trouble, it wouldn't be hard to conclude that she had at last crossed the wrong foe, or taken one step too many to provoke someone to anger that she couldn't handle.
With no real address on record with any federation, it's no wonder she had never entered the Neo League; with their need to get in contact with wouldbe fighters to answer challenges from others. But for her to vanish from the wildly popular SNF franchise seemed rather unexpected, given the regularity with which she had appeared there for the last half a year. Tracking her down directly seemed unlikely, with nary a clue to go on. An apartment address was on record within the Syndicate records as belonging to the infamous bandit, but a search of it would have turned up nothing but traces of blood and damaged property in the otherwise abandoned hovel.
Most of the attempts to find feelers and contacts would've gone poorly as well, as time and time again, those in the underground would shrug, having no idea where or how to get in touch with the rogue. It would be only one that finally mentioned having seen the girl around some downtown, small time abby or church building. Promising to pass along a message for some coin, it was up to Shihong to trust her 'investment' would pay off.
And as it turns out, it does. The strawberry blond makes her appearance, rounding a corner a half-block away. She looks the same at first glance, but different somehow as well. She has the chains dangling around her neck. The Doc Martin, ankle high boots... a dark blue and black plaid skirt and black blouse to go with it. A loose, dark blue tie hangs around her neck, and black ribbon adorns the back of her head, tied into a bow. All in all, standard fare for the girl.
But closer inspection would reveal an uncertainty about her. The way she looks around, glancing briefly at anyone she passes near on her way toward the specifically agreed upon location. She seems a little nervous, but not overly so, brown eyes narrowing to study each individual as she skirts around them. Even Shihong is given the same look - a cursory glance, the girl stepping closer, hands going to clasp behind her back, her mouth curled into a slight smile and nod - a neutral acknowledgement, perhaps, even though she doesn't maintain eye contact for long.
Without a doubt Ayame's mysterious absence from the popular Saturday Night Fight venues has been...too strange and far too mysterious. What's more, Shihong's difficult in tracking the girl down through contacts has been a bit discerning...and somewhat alarming. Never has the Chinese woman had any issues with the girl, unlike some. But for someone like Ayame to fall off the face of the earth..?
It's too odd for Shihong's tastes.
Circumstances only further fueled the woman's urge to find the girl and catch up. Her apartment, abandoned, wrecked and showing some signs of struggle? Too mysterious, indeed. She didn't like it--not one single bit.
And so some private investments were made. As far as Shihong was concerned, it was as good an investment as any; despite her ill reputation with a lot of fighters, the thievish Ayame had some strong points and considerable promise.
Eyes drift absently to the phone in the woman's hand. Another message, another reply, followed by a light exhale. Time was passing, and with every minute that slipped from her fingers, the further Shihong's hopes regarding the thief girl fell. Would her contacts pan out for her, or would Shihong find herself a day late and a dollar short regarding the girl..?
Another light exhale slips past thin red lips before the woman lifts her head. Her gaze wanders about the streets in vain hope the girl would be present. And just when all seems hopeless, the unique attire and Ayame's strawberry-blonde hair catches her sights. It has to be her--you can't mistake that look.
Pushing her back off the brick wall of the closed club, the woman is all smiles as she tucks her cellular phone away and turns to face the approaching weapons prodigy. But the smile on Shihong's face falters a fraction, as she observes the girl's approach. Where once she held herself with poise and confidence, now she seems paranoid and fearful, like a timid mouse in a field of traps. And the look she gives the Syndicate enforcer..?
"It's been some time, Ayame," the woman offers quietly, bowing her head politely to the younger woman. "I haven't seen you in the circuits or...well, in general." Pausing, the Chinese woman lightly cants her head to the side, a smile edging over her mouth. "And I've been a bit worried as well."
Glancing up from the blonde, the woman's eyes scan the thin crowds, surveying their surroundings carefully and cautiously before turning her attentions back onto the blonde before her.
"I know in your 'line of work' you probably have more enemies than friends." Circumstances in her past would certainly suggest that, anyway. "That is part of the reason why I wanted to meet up with you again, aside from making sure you've been doing well. You certainly seem all right at first glance." At least there are no visible marks, wounds or scars. "But...looks can certainly be deceiving. So."
The woman's lips purse tightly.
"How have you been doing?"
Circumstances, behavior; it's all very suspicious to the elder woman.
After a moment of looking at Shihong, Ayame glances away, eyes straying up and down the street idly, as if she was looking for someone else entirely. But the moment she speaks, she looks back toward her, giving her a long look as if to scrutinize the woman. It lasts only a fleeting moment, almost impossible to catch if Shihong were any less perceptive than she is. For in the next moment, the girl is smiles, hand coming up from behind her back to offer a wave.
"Yeah," she replies equivocally at the fact that it's been a while since they last saw each other. She nods her head just slightly with regards to the fighting circuit, a flicker of a tight lipped, neutral expression as she mentions being worried. On the matter of fewer friends than enemies, she shrugs, "Comes with the territory... I get by all right."
The slightly older of the two pauses before asking that pointed question, and Ayame blinks back before glancing to the side, repeating that defensive shrug from a moment ago. "Oh, you know how it is... I'm all right. Staying under the radar and out of trouble, letting things blow over for a while." She glances back toward Shihong then, her smile returned as she nods her head for emphasis.
"What can I do for you? Do you need something gotten? I'm pretty good at that. I'm also good at fighting, but you've seen that before." With the way she describes her skills, it almost sounds like she's introducing herself to the woman rather than addressing someone she's interacted with on several prior occasions.
Not once do those black eyes leave the girl. Not once.
Employing incredible scrutiny, Shihong Mao carefully watches the girl, every nuance and slight gesture noted and considered. Something is definitely amiss. Is this really the same girl she met so long ago? Or has something put her on edge and made her uneasy? It certainly doesn't seem like the same girl...
"Of course you do," the woman replies, offering a small grin before glancing about. Is Ayame being followed? A bit of observation and a few moments later she's got her attention back on the waif young weapons prodigy. "You've come this far, after all."
Staying out of the radar--that sounds about par for Ayame. A light chuckle escapes the elder woman, black eyes drawing to a close as she nods her head softly. Slowly, however, her eyes open, continuing to peer at the girl as she speaks, still watching every move she makes. And slowly--discreetly--her eyes gain the faintest shade of red around her irises.
IS everything really all right?
What she 'sees' and what she 'feels' would truly suggest contrary.
The red flickers out of sight, as the girl asks her what she wants. Shaking her head slightly, the woman's rouge lips pull into a tiny smile, straight black locks spilling past her shoulders. Something really is strange about the girl she's come to know for some time. The uneasiness...time to get to the bottom of it. If she can.
"Ayame," the woman begins, smiling lightly.
"Do you remember that time when we had to fight in the antique shop?"
A brief pause follows.
"What do you remember about that fight that made it 'special?'"
The long haired teen begins to relax a little as Shihong appears to take her answers in stride. As if glad to find that everything is going smoothly enough thus far. She is quiet then after asking her question, completely missing that detailed inspection of her as she continues to glance off to the side now and then, one hand coming up to rest behind her head.
That inspection might pick up some other nuances. She seems less armed than normal. A pouch hangs from her belt. But the belt itself bears no telltale sheaths. Her hands are ungloved, and the arm guard that had concealed small throwing knives and a lock picking set is missing. Her right arm is bare as well, lacking the cloth wrappings she had usually concealed stabbing blades or a miniture, collapsed single-shot crossbow she's pegged opponents with from time to time.
The answer to her question comes from an unexpected angle. One she's ill-prepared to handle. It's in the past, and that... well. The brown eyed girl nods her head slowly as she mentions the antique shop. "Yeah," she replies with a grin, looking a bit more confidence. This IS something she can field, after all. "I was just watching that very fight two days ago." Something about her voice and demeanor suggests absolute sincerity in what she says; that she isn't making that up.
But then comes the question. What was special about that fight? The girl's eyebrow twitches just a little and the perceptive woman can probably see the gears turning in her head as she tries to pick apart the video in her mind of that very match. "Well, we were blindfolded." she notes, her tone a little distant, as if she knows full well that isn't what she is asking. That was abormal, for certain, but didn't merit the distinct emphasis she placed on the word 'special'. It had to be something else.
"T-that was a while ago," the girl states, her hand back up behind her head, that nervousness settling in again. She can't field the question after all. There's no way to guess around it. "I'm afraid it's slipped my mind." Now that's problematic. Her memory was like a steel trap before, the slightest details she would pick out about people letting her profile them in an instant, knowing just what buttons to push. She could recite lengthy speaches verbatim on demand before, and now she can't remember anything that would be 'special' about that bout within the shop?
Sparsely adorned, her sharpness of wit and mind dulled? Nervousness?
What happened to the girl?
Waiting patiently, the woman's features lie; inwardly her thoughts churn, moving a mile a minute as she tries to piece together the evidence that has been presented in its subtle fashion. Will the girl remember the fight's stipulation, or will she have forgotten. Surely she'd remember the condition. It's an easy question--if she remembers being there.
"You watched it, hm?" the woman inquires lightly, offering a grin as she observes. While the response IS correct and precisely what she was looking for, the girl's tone and mannerisms seem particularly...off. Her features stern a bit, black eyes hooding discreetly as she continues to watch the girl closely.
"Yes! We were blindfolded. But, oh, don't worry about it," Shihong offers, flashing a friendly smile. "I'm just feeling a bit nostalgic, after all. It's been some time since we last spoke, and when I reencounter people I like to catch up on fond memories."
Pausing, the woman turns slightly, eyes shifting about the street, casually casting a glance for anything or anyone suspicious. Ayame's odd behavior would definitely suggest she may very well be, but. A moment after, Shihong glances back, still smiling.
"Ah! Do you remember that one time," If at first you don't succeed. "...when you and I fought in that crazy four man fight? It was you and I against one another, with two guys. It was a close fight for everyone there." Pausing, the elder woman considers her thoughts carefully, thin brows furrowed slightly before she offers the young woman a smile.
"The funniest part was after the fight. Remember that? Do you remember who I introduced you to?"
Ayame relaxes as it seems she satisfied the question regarding the blind folded fight. "Just for ol' times sake," she responds as Shihong remarks on her having rewatched the fight. Of course there's far more to it than that, but she seems to keep drifting in and out of feeling comfortable with where the dialog keeps going. "Yeah," she continues easily, as Shihong speaks of nostalgia. "I hear you."
But then Shihong tries another tactic. Another match. The description would be hard to mistake. The free for all for the Challenger's belt. A fight with both of them contending, along with two others. Tran walked out the belt holder in the end, but something happened afterward. Again the gears in Ayame's head spin. There is no tape to cover what she's asking. Someone special... someone special... She pales just a little, trapped in a game of question and answer that she can't possibly keep up with.
A thin bead of perspiration forms near her temple as she remains quiet long enough. She can't say she doesn't remember. This is too big. "Y-yeah," the girl replies, chiding herself for sounding weak to answer. She shrugs a little, as if to suggest that while she OBVIOUSLY remembers, it isn't that important to her now. "It was something all right. You don't meet someone like that very often."
Her hand goes back up to resting behind her long hair, clamped against the back of her neck. "We're not going to go meet 'em again are we?" she asks, regaining her pacing, her composure as she believes herself to have handled the question well enough. Of course, she's barely keeping her head above water at this rate.
Still Ayame acts odd. Still are her mannerisms 'off' and very unlike the girl she remembers. Something is doubtlessly amiss here; now, it's simply a matter of pinning it down and seeing that it is swiftly and, if needed, forcefully resolved. Her discomfort is showing through, even without relying on her given 'talents' to pry the surface of the girl's façade.
Her answer is as she expected: a little timid and uncertain. Those black eyes narrow a bit...before she lets her mouth ease into a smile. She's pressuring the girl to find the answers she wants, and it seems to be working. The problem is keeping it at a perfect balance; too much will push her away, and too little yields no satisfactory replies.
"No, we're not going to meet them. I called you here for different reasons. But," the woman offers, glancing aside in either direction before she bends a bit, lowering her tone of voice. Still smiling, she offers the girl a look of sincerity, black eyes fixed on the young woman. There's no sense in skirting it anymore. She has reason to believe...
"Is something wrong? You're behaving exceptionally strange today, and you've been 'gone' for such a long time. My contacts had a difficult time tracking you down, and with your 'ties' it should have been a cakewalk for them. The circumstances don't add up properly, and I can't shake the strangeness of it all." Silencing herself a moment, the woman's black eyes hood sharply.
"Did something happen? More importantly.., did someone hurt you?"
When Shihong first begins to speak, Ayame believes to have slipped by another awkward question. Whew. The relief is easy to see in her eyes as she calms for but a brief moment. It doesn't last long, however, as Shihong reaches that pointed 'but'. She can tell something else is coming. Another question, perhaps? Another test she'll have to answer as vaguely accurately as possible? Skirting the past is a challenge with what she has to work with, and the woman in black seems remarkably effective with her tract of questions.
But in the end she asks point blank just what is going on. Citing strange behavior, her months of absense from being heard of anywhere, either publically or within the underground. It was as if she had disappeared for a while, only to resurface at this request to meet. Brown eyes become hooded as Ayame looks away, avoiding eye contact with the woman pressing closer to the real issues at hand. Releasing a quiet breath, the long haired teen shakes her head, "It..." She wants to say it doesn't matter. That whatever concerns Shihong has she should keep them to herself. She doesn't need whatever worries the Syndicate enforcer may harbor.
"It's just..." she tries again, this time with less vehemenance, less defiance. She's weakening. She can't turn everyone away just because they're starting to figure out something is wrong with her. Maybe this won't get her anywhere... should she confide her predictament with the young woman who called her here? What will she do with that knowledge if she tells her?
"The truth of it is," she finally says, giving in at last it would seem. "I don't really know... Something happened, yes. Someone hurt me. Messed me up pretty bad, I guess." Her hand comes up to rest against the side of her head. "I don't really know who or why or how though. I don't really know much at all. I... I don't remember anything going back more than two weeks ago." She looks to the side then, avoiding eye contact again, folding her arms loosely in front of her chest as she reluctantly shares this information with the inquisitive woman. "So that's why."
She raises a hand to wave dismissively. "So I'm sorry. I... I probably can't help you with whatever you wanted."
Pushing someone like Ayame...isn't easy.
It's all a precise procedure, one that's testing the woman as much as she's likely testing the girl. Certain phrasing, specific details, watching the girl's responses and reactions; it's almost taxing. But her perseverance and determination to get to the root pays off. She has the girl cornered, but not dangerously so. She's right where she needs the weapons prodigy to be.
'It...' Ayame begins, her demeanor initially defiant. The woman's features remain stern, those black eyes observant and thoughtful as she studies her reactions. There's an air about her, an odd feeling she can't quite place. Is she trying to protect herself? Keeping people at a distance?
She doesn't quite continue. Instead she repeats herself, her defenses crumbling. The woman remains silent still, fixed entirely on the blonde. Whatever it is, she wants to know, because something is truly out of place. The girl doesn't deserve whatever may have happened.
And then it comes. Revelation.
Rather than speak out, the Chinese woman continues to employ her silence, letting the young woman confess what she need--what she wants to tell her. And everything said, Shihong absorbs like a dry and thirsty sponge; nothing will escape. And when all is said and done, the Syndicate enforcer's features grow stern and serious.
Straightening her back, the woman remains rigid. "I wanted to meet you because I was going to offer a proposition of sorts. So many times we've fought together, and so often have I been impressed with your talents. I wanted to and still will extend to you an offer." Her façade breaks slightly, a tiny but sincere smile on her lips.
"I've come to know two particularly impressive fighters since coming to Southtown. Cherise Bouchard and Suzume Nakatani. Since then, we've stuck together--they're associates, and I suppose friends. We watch each others' backs. ...I guess you could call us a team. I called you here because I wanted to ask you if you'd want to join us, to be a part of that team."
Her features falter, however, that stern and borderline angry expression crawling to the fore once more.
"Whether you accept now or not does not matter. In the past you've watched my back in SNF, so I'm going to watch yours now." Glancing about, her eyes stir, shifting about the area for any suspicious activity before falling back onto Ayame.
"I know right now you feel uneasy and far from trusting of me. And given what you've told me and what you can remember, it's entirely understandable. I sympathize. But," The woman inhales, nostrils flaring slightly as she draws her eyes to a pensive close.
"I want you to know I am here to help you, no strings attached. You said someone hurt you? Then that means they may very well do it again. If they're going to harm you like that, right now the best course of action is to keep you as safe as possible. Mmn."
Black eyes open, the woman's eyes once more fixing on the blonde as she offers a smile. "I want to help you remember what happened, and who did it--if not the former, then the latter. I want to make right what went wrong. So I offer you a proposition: if you would like, you can stay with me.
"You said you don't remember what happened before two weeks ago. I'm in the employ of the Syndicate, and I have resources at my disposal. I will use them and do what I can to help you get back onto your feet and make whoever did this to you--" For a brief instant black eyes flicker red, her pale face flushing as she adds, coldly:
"Pay."
Her lack of memories leaves her feeling vulnerable. Day after day she encounters people with axes to grind or memories to share, and each and every time she's left lost, overwhelmed, confused. At times angry at whatever idiot went around making so many enemies, knowing full well that it's merely herself and that given how much effort she puts into hiding her condition, many may not even pick up on it. She's fooled others so far, kept them in the dark. Sure they noticed oddities, but she was able to dance around their questions, staying just out of reach, keeping everyone at bay.
But when someone cuts right to the chase like this, there isn't much she can say. She could brush Shihong off. Wave her hand and disappear into the crowd. But what does that get her? How does that get her closer to finding the truth? The woman doesn't sound like an enemy. Without knowing about her condition, she wouldn't have known that she could get away with saying anything to trick Ayame into trusting her. Which means, the girl's rational, thinking mind has concluded, she must be sincere.
She begins to speak again, getting to the purpose of why she was called here. A proposition. Some kind of deal. Ayame nods slowly as she speaks, brown eyes fixed squarely on her now that she's no longer being trapped with clever questioning. A team. A group to belong to. The prospect is strongly appealing to the girl who's wandered, feeling all alone, except for some scruffy hobo and that kindly priest who took her in after whatever awful thing happened.
Blinking slowly, she digests the idea. "Well... I do have a place to stay, but... I wouldn't mind staying with you." she begins, thinking the offer over. It sounds like she's still weighing how far she can trust the Syndicate enforcer. There is more to the offer than a team and a place to stay, however. Resources. So far she has been trying to piece this all together on her own. Someone with real connections, resources, information, wide reaching in its impact... now that's what she really needs above all else.
"I... I have to be honest. I'm not sure if I can be any help to you on a team. I'm not sure if I remember how to fight like I used to. I've seen DVDs of matches I appeared in, but I can't do that stuff anymore. I dunno..." Her hand drops to the pouch at her belt, drawing a familiar, titanium collapsed tube. Her trick-laden, extending staff. It looks scuffed up and in need of a nice polish, but it's clear what it is all the same. "I do have this. And when forced to defend myself, I was able to put it to some use. But..."
The teen glances back up, shrugging a little, slipping the staff back into the pouch. "I'm not sure how much use I'll be to you... Still, if that's all right with you all the same... I would like to stay with you. I think I'll be able to learn a lot more that way."
Confused. Alone. Uncertain. Uneasy. Vulnerable. The Chinese woman knows these feelings well.
While others may have a vendetta against the confused blonde, Shihong does not. If anything, the woman's interests in the girl are for her well-being. She's a friend as far as the woman is concerned, if not something like a kid sister, someone she'd gladly look after without hesitating. And now, more than ever, it would seem that Ayame needs help. More importantly, she needs someone she can trust.
So she offers the girl security, a place to call home for now. And, perhaps most importantly, a place in a group of like-minded individuals. Teammates, with whom she can share her experiences and feel like she belongs somewhere in a town that feels like it's otherwise against her. But will she accept these proposals..?
"You are staying somewhere at the moment?" the woman inquires, sounding mildly surprised. It's shaken off slightly, eyes drawing briefly closed before they open and her expression sincere. "I insist, Ayame! If you would rather stay with me, please do. My penthouse is welcome to you, always. If you're with me, it makes it a hell of a lot easier to keep an eye out for you and help you out--especially if I know where you are." Tracking the girl down was quite a task.
Ayame's uncertainty which follows is met with a light shake of Shihong's head, eyes drawing shut as she continues to grin. "Mn, don't worry about that," the Enforcer states. "You are still more than welcome on the team. You were one of the best people I've had the pleasure of fighting alongside of, as well as against. I know for certain it'll come back to you." When that familiar staff is produced, the woman's gaze drifts, a thoughtful gaze given upon the scuffed-up weapon.
"If there is one thing I have learned, it is that fighters who wield weapons in battle come to trust their arms." Drawing her eyes to a pensive close, Shihong gathers her thoughts briefly before she continues. "Their weapons, no matter what it may be, become a part of themselves. Thus I believe that, while you believe you cannot do it anymore, you can and you will be able to."
Her eyes open once more, settling upon the younger woman with a smile. "You're confused right now. Because of...whatever it is that happened to you, you've been sorely shaken up. I believe that, if you put your trust into this weapon--" Lifting a hand, the woman carefully extends it, her hand gently resting upon its top before she pulls away. "Like second nature, it will come back to you. Be patient, but it will come. I will do what I can to help you remember, if you would like."
When the blonde tucks the tube away and speaks once more, the Enforcer nods her head once. "Like I said, you are more than welcome at my place. I've got plenty of space you're welcome to use. Right now, as far as I'm concerned, it's not how much used you'd be to ME, but how much used I'd be for you. Whatever you can remember is of great help, and I will do whatever is in my power to help you out."
Lifting a hand, the woman jerks a thumb over her shoulder. "I live in the heart of downtown, on the twentieth floor of a penthouse. It's got a spectacular view of the city at night. You can stay with me for however long you would like. Don't worry."
"Nn," Ayame nods with regards to staying with someone at the moment. "The priest that found me after... whatever happened - he's given me a room until I can get back on my feet. Saint's his name. I guess. Maybe it's a self-selected title?" she observes with a bit of a shrug. Who names their kid 'Saint' after all. As the invitation is reinforced, however, she seems to perk up a little, a trace of a smile making its way across her lips. She seems willing to accept the help being offered. The promise of contacts and connections is more than she can pass up on. And there is security in the idea of being a part of something bigger. A team. That's definitely something.
"Yeah," the girl muses with regards to the familiarity of her weapon. "I found it by accident, but when I did, I remembered holding it before. I knew, somehow, what it could do, even if I couldn't quite get it to cooperate fully. That was before I found out I had fought in SNFs and started finding every recording of every one of my appearances. That's when I came to know that my hunch about this staff was right. Now if only I knew who made it," she continues, rolling her eyes, patting the pouch with one hand, "So that I could get an owner's manual on it!"
She falls quiet, mouth quirking into a thoughtful expression, "Well, as long as you know," she states, with regards to her uncertainty with regards to her fighting capacity, "I mean, I'll practice and stuff," she continues, fingers coming up to rub at her temple, "And try to remember what I could do before. I'm sure I can get it back over time. I'll just watch my own fights for ideas," she finishes with a bit of a grin.
She falls quiet then as the woman expresses her interests in helping her out then nods slowly, glancing to the side for a moment, lowering her hand from the side of her head as she finishes contemplating. "All right... Thank you. Shihong." she states, looking back toward the Chinese born enforcer. "Is that what I called you before?" she asks, her expression a little sheepish at having to ask for confirmation on how she addressed the black-clad woman before.
"A priest?"
Blinking slowly, Shihong's red eyes study Ayame thoughtfully, thin lips pulled across her pale face. A priest named Saint, no less? "What an odd choice of name," is her ultimate response, a light laugh slipping past her lips before she offers a friendly smile. "Admittedly now knowing you've been staying with a priest is a little unsettling. You know, what with the...reputations...and all." Shaking her head once, the Chinese woman dismisses the thought.
"In any case, my suggestion is you should be cautious. I'm certainly suspicious, but it comes with the nature of my work." Offering a light smirk, she tips her head slightly, adding, "If we're going to find out what happened, it may be for the best to start with him. If you like, we can visit him again and ask him about what he may or may not know." It's a start, Shihong wagers.
"Well.., assuredly that was no 'accident,' and that weapon is in its rightful owner's hands." Smiling, the Enforcer slides her hands into her pockets, shoulders relaxing as she eyes the collapsed pole carefully. Who made it..?
"I think I know someone who can possibly help you learn that," the woman offers. "Remember how I said I took you to meet someone? Well, that someone was Mister Howard. And when I introduced you to him, he seemed to know a lot about you that most people would NOT know. I wager he may know something about it. If not, he likely knows more about your past than perhaps even YOU know." Shrugging casually, a smile crosses the woman's pale face.
"It's a start, yeah? I'll see about getting in touch with him at some point for you. Though, nothing in the SNF footage you watched helped you rediscover how you wield that?" Pausing briefly, the woman's eyes drop to the ground, a hand sliding from her pocket to absently cup at her chin. "I don't mind...in fact, I'm willing to offer to help you out from time to time if you need it. Myself, Cherise or Suzume are more than capable sparring partners, I wager." Pausing, the woman offers a wink, her hand dropping from her chin.
"So don't worry. I'll do what I can to help you out. Promise."
The girl's quiet demeanor catches her briefly, the Chinese woman's features faltering from a welcoming smile to a slight frown...before she smiles once more and waves a hand absently, dismissively. "Please, don't worry about it. You're a member of the team as far as I'm concerned. As for what you called me before? Just call me Mao. That's what most people who know me better tend to prefer, anyway."
About-facing, the woman slips her hands into her pockets, eyes shifting toward the sprawling city skyline. "We should get you something nice to eat and something nice to drink. How's lunch in Chinatown sound? My treat."
Log created on 21:36:54 08/24/2008 by Ayame, and last modified on 22:46:25 12/31/2008.