Description: Sick witches, polite French men who wish they were being less polite and most importantly detectives who dislike French men. Somehow this didn't end with either Ash stuffing the red witch in a trash can and setting it on fire, or stuffing Daniel into a gutter. (Winner: There are no winners when Naerose is involved.)
Suburbia was a place where Daniel hoped to live some day. Settle down with a decent wife. No, not beautiful. Even in his dreams, Daniel knew that while he had standards, so did women. Two kids. Maybe three. A nice pink 4-seater sedan. Any more kids would mean a mini-van, and that's where the fantasy would end. No, he would stick with a good urban rat, ducking in and out of town. Daniel didn't know what he would do in the long term. Maybe go public with his detective work. Might cash in on the whole SNF thing, that seems to be pretty stable in cash. It was kinda fuzzy there. Maybe SHE could be the one who is working, and Daniel would stay at home and teach the kids Todoh-Ryuu Kobojutsu. Ryuhaku Todoh DID give parenting seminars, after all.
Daniel Jack was leaning outside a small 7-11, drinking a medium-sized coffee. Yeah, it was pretty late for coffee. But on the other hand, it was too early for a good stiff drink. Pulling an old trick, he found that combining the two together was a great idea. The detective was in his work uniform; that is, he was wearing a dull grey trenchcoat over his zoot suit. He took a sip of the strong drink. He had reasons for being here. Important reasons. Suburbia. A serene location, home of safe people, quiet people... and blue velvet.
The detective burped quietly to himself.
7-11 was known for things like slurpees, and.. Well they might have some medicine. A woman in red manages to stumble out not long after the detective. She hasn't noticed him, she hasn't noticed anyone, she's far to busy with her own stuff, and from the look of her bag of meds, it has to do with being sick. Luckily she didn't have a job to miss.
"Uuugh," the woman wines and sits on a bench while reaching into the bag and pulling out some pills. Medicine for head ache, upset stomach. Naerose was sick. She had eaten something bad a day ago and of course had no idea what, but she was definitely sick. No one to take care of her, the woman finally managed to drag herself out of her bed (the couch), onto a bus and got off at the nearest place that might have pills. Lots and lots of pills. She downs a load of them and chases them with a slurpee. The only appropriate choice from a 7-11.
Huh. It appears that even Japan was unable to escape the aggressive expansion of 7-11! Run for your lives! Though really, this might just be the influence of the West taking root here again. Ash himself honestly has no idea. He isn't well acquainted with the chain of variety markets, so it's automatically assumed that it's probably an 'American thing'... But when it suits his needs, why shun such convenience? Today, the Frenchman opened his fridge back in the apartment complex across the street to discover that they were out of milk. He was also in the mood for chocolate and coffee... for breakfast. Ew.
Huh. It appears that even Japan was unable to escape the aggressive expansion of 7-11! Run for your lives! Though really, this might just be the influence of the West taking root here again. Ash himself honestly has no idea. He isn't well acquainted with the chain of variety markets, so it's automatically assumed that it's probably an 'American thing'... But when it suits his needs, why shun such convenience? Today, the Frenchman opened his fridge back in the apartment complex across the street to discover that they were out of milk. He was also in the mood for chocolate and coffee... for breakfast. Ew.
With his white hair pulled back into a lazy ponytail - despite being a man who cares about his appearance - it's obvious that Ash's intentions aren't anything along the lines of spending more time outside than what is absolutely necessary. He'd never go anywhere EXCEPT the store in silver trackpants and a black winter jacket, hell no. ... And speaking of which, hands stuffed into the coat's pockets, the lean man fast approaches the entrance to the 7-11 that Naerose and Daniel currently hang about. Normally, their presence would be nothing to deter him. Ash would simply just proceed inside, get whatever he needs, and head home with maybe a polite 'hello', but the red witch popping pills sorta catches his attention. Doubtful that this'll take long still, he stops by the bench and smiles one of those broad, saccharine sweet smiles, "I think there's a limit to how many of those you're supposed to take in one day, cherie." Not to mention the various dangers that may now arise due to mix-and-match methods of ailment treatment. Naerose may have just made her problem WORSE, ha ha! But he's being helpful here.
Daniel Jack was in the middle of sipping his coffee when he heard the womanly groan of illness. He remembered that voice. Slowly tilting his head around, he spotted the flash of red, white... and red. Cherry.
The detective finished his sipping, quietly observing his old... 'friend.' He knew Naerose was an ex-gangster, and quite the sentimental one as well. The pill-popping, however, was a red-light for the detective. Oh, he knew how low-lifes could be. Naerose was probably dealing with her extreme social alienation by pulling an alternate method of Houdini's infamous 'Escape From Reality' trick. In this version, it was lovingly known as the 'Judy Garland Slip.' However, unlike a professional, Daniel notices that she was a bit more... desperate. A subtle pang of concern rolled over his spine. Was that sympathy, or the alcohol kicking in? It had to have been sympathy, because when Ash moves in to Cherry, the tingle is replaced by jealousy. But that tingle is replaced by the unadultrated rage only found in the deep midwest by the time the stranger opens his mouth.
A FRENCHMAN.
Daniel Jack knew EXACTLY what was going on. A wandering Frenchman, seeking some orifice on the streets of Southtown, lifted the scent of a poor, helpless addict. With his cunning French powers, he would lure the victim into a sense of security, and drag them into his lair. After few moments of wonderful bliss, he would discard the body out in the street again, reaching repose until the urges for a new victim comes around again. Daniel Jack was thankful for his 'Street Smart' lessons with Todoh-Ryuu Kobojutsu, or the man might have targeted HIS orifices. With an icy cold glare, he watches the pair communicate, waiting to see the opportune point to intervene on Naerose's behalf. If the timing was off, she might view it as a counter hit on, and be enticed by the Frog's horrible frenchy french french, leaving both Daniel Jack and Naerose down a horrible day's night.
Daniel takes another, far more furious sip.
Wow that was a lot of concern. Someone was talking to Naerose and this was rare. There was the time when she would go to the restaurant to just hear, 'May I take your order?' Yeah, a fastfood restaurant, because she was going to be realistic about what she could afford. Which wasn't much. But the problem was, with all this goodwill that Ash might be willing to give her she couldn't accept any of it because she was sick and therefore couldn't be taken out for a wonderful dinner at an all you can eat buffet. That and.. she already emptied one bottle.
"I ah, figured that you know if one vitamin makes you strong, two would make you twice as strong right? So I mean if one pill make you better, two or like three pills.." She doesn't feel so good though.
The witch sits down and laments again that she can't really make a lot of use of the goodwill. "I swear there is nothing wose than being sick and alone." Now she's being melodramtic about it. Far to much in her own world to notice the detective and then holds up the next pill bottle. "So maybe I shouldn't swalow this one." Full of a nighttime make you sleep medicine.
"I think I ate something bad." She admits.
Sadly, it appears as though Daniel and the red witch are both drawing their own wrong conclusions. While his words express concern because he's naturally polite, the man actually doesn't care at all; Ash Crimson isn't that good of a person. If it weren't for the abnormality in her actions, Naerose probably wouldn't even have registered to him, but nothing attracts attention like public addiction... Or a ridiculously high tolerance to pills! Seriously, no one on the street could go popping them like candy without someone turning a head - the flamewielder is simply bold enough to do more than look because he has no attachment to the situation or outcome. Ash, you're a prick.
... And apparently a vampire?! Woah!
As awesome as that'd actually be, the lean fighter may have extended the offer of a buffet if she had been well, but he otherwise has no intentions of absconding with the woman in red in order to prey upon her orifices (THAT SOUNDS SO MESSED UP), and Daniel is definitely not his type. He also doesn't have anything like a secret lair because that'd probably require him to pay rent. Ash isn't interested in those sorts of things, being a freeloader who takes the easy road in life. Even the money he has now for coffee, milk and chocolate (or the buffet) isn't that in which he earned. Nope, it belongs to Shenwoo, who'll probably be rather irritated whenever he returns home, but the Frenchman doesn't much care about that, either.
Smile still fixed firmly in place, Ash tuts gently at Naerose's reasoning for her-- holy crap, she downed an entire bottle? Good thing it WASN'T the sleeping pills, but 'ate something bad' doesn't much cover it at all! "Saa, perhaps you might want to see a physician then." But... he kinda has no idea where one might find such a thing locally. Despite living here, the flamewielder's never really paid attention to what actually EXISTS in the neighbourhood. Head turning, he spots the detective, who doesn't look terribly friendly at the moment, but no matter. "Bonjour, monsieur. Do you know where to find a docteur?" And if the thought of being alone bothers her, then the Frenchman is always happy to pass off the burden onto Daniel, because he'd rather not be the escort here.
Bonjour Mon-sewer. The words ring in Daniel's ear like a kettle drum. The detective narrows his eyes, taking in the approaching Ash with the temperament of a saucy Bulldog put right before his bath. However, his offer, for the moment, told Daniel numbers. While he wished to take advantage of the disorientated gangster, the presence of both Daniel Jack and Cherry's sickly nature was frightening him away.
Oh, he was good.
The Frenchman, in his travels for the flesh, knew what dangers a sickly, insane woman meant. The clap. The Great Pox. Loony Ruby Tuesday. The Frenchman wanted pure skin, but he wanted it safe. So he was inviting Daniel to 'clean her up' for him. Take her to a clinic. But Daniel knew better. He understood from Cherry's stories of eating and pill-popping that she would need a stomach pump. Pronto. So when the Ash offers the burden of Naerose, he snaps it up with a clear, concise phrase.
"Sure shooting, -SCUZZY-"
The detective shuffles straight for Naerose, not even looking at Ash. Focusing hard on the witch, his face softens ever so subtly. "Hey, Cherry, how is it going. It is me, from the Casino." The detective nods at Naerose, looking over her body for any visible signs of illness. He wasn't a doctor, but at least he was somewhat observant.
Most people know the basic facts that all children are taught. The most important ones likely are never talk to strangers. Daniel is met with the look of someone who is sure he is a stranger. Besides which last Naerose checked her name wasn't Cherry. Past logs would state that indeed he called her that once before, but that did not mean the woman remembered it. When you spend a day groaning on your couch, unable to even watch tv for how sick you feel due to tummy aches and general ill related things that happen when you fail eat food which is food poisoned. No this wasn't a clever ploy to end Naerose' evil scheme to eat the entire world's food supply. Wait what did the friendly frenchman just say? Something about a doctor? Japan had an interesting health care system. You didn't get it free like in Canada, instead the government had a very regulated system. You might pay thousands for an MRI in the states and less then a hundred in Japan. The downside was there was almost no incentive to be a doctor in the country. You just didn't make any money at all doing it.
"I ahh.." The witch begins, "Have no money." She tells Ash as way of expression just why it might be a bad idea for someone who couldn't begin to afford something like even the most minute of health care related things. She'd of probably spent the money someplace else, like on food.
"Ummm thanks.." Naerose replies and adds the "Anyway." What did she take? A bottle of chewable vitamins. That is why she isn't right at this very minute dead of overdose.
Methinks that Daniel is a psychopathic xenophobe, and by some mysterious power of the universe, these types ALWAYS seem to find their way to Ash. Of course, the imagination of the other man is rather laudable in its originality, but still ridiculous at the same time. It's unfortunate that the flamewielder can't read minds. He wouldn't bother to argue... because he'd be laughing waaaaaay too hard. Good grief.
Still remaining close to the bench where the red witch sits, when it's apparent that he's got the young detective's attention, Ash appears relieved. Obviously, this is because he won't be taking responsibility for escorting the girl to the clinic... Or, well, that WAS his expression until such abrupt rudeness is foisted upon him. Blue eyes flash in a quick set of blinks, and then the good humour drains from his sharp features. If there were something interesting about Daniel, he might bother with further pleasantry, but instead, the lost humour is replaced with something mixed between 'cursory politeness' and just outright 'frosty disregard'. Scuzzy? What kind of insult is that, anyway? Thin fingers reach up to caress his own jawline thoughtfully.
On top of this, to make matters worse is that despite how funny the detective's pompous approach is blown-off by Naerose - who clearly can't tell Daniel from a random stranger on the street - she's clearly not getting to a doctor as of yet still. And the witch also doesn't have any money. ... What? Don't look at him. He isn't covering for a... vitamin... popper? Pfft, he should've looked at the bottle sooner, ha ha! But no attachment to the situation or outcome means that he isn't embarrassed by the assumption, and in actuality... Naerose should probably still see a doctor about her stomach. Observant of the obvious lack of relationship between the two, it doesn't stop Ash from rolling his shoulders finally. "Perhaps the good sir would be willing to cover the expenses for his friend. Otherwise, what kind of man would you be, monsieur?"
Daniel Jack checked Naerose over. She didn't seem like she was shooting up anything. Just a little ill. No paulor, that was good. The medical costs wouldn't be -too- bad, the detective thought to himself. After being gunned down, beaten halfway to death by Zach, and engaging in a wide range of horrible maulings, he found a great medical professional that is discreet AND reasonably priced. Oh, and Ash was still TALKING to him. Like if he REPRESENTED AMERICAN VALUES THAT HE WAS JEALOUS OF. So, with a frigid air of bitterness, he whips out a reply.
"A French One."
The detective stands erect, taking a sip of his coffee. He grunts, clearing his throat, and nods at Naerose. "Come on, Cherry. I'll pay for the treatment, no worries. I can't turn down helping a dame in distress, you dig?" He looks down the street, sticking his hand out for Naerose to hold. He sure wasn't going to carry her, unless he had to.
Getting free stuff was not something Naerose complained about, but she did generally want more from this sort of thing than just getting to see a doctor. It is sort of like getting a present and the present is some lame clothes. Socks maybe. You could offer to buy her food for instance or you could offer to buy her something else she didn't have that she would like. Medical treatment is argueable such a thing, but not in the witches book. IT falls in the same place as socks. She certainly needs to have a good pair of socks but it isn't something she would think about ever wanting. Maybe once she ran out of socks. So reallly, the woman in red isn't at all thrilled about this.
"Hey umm, I was just thinking if you wanna help me out you could get me.." She shifts a little and then scratches her cheek.
"Umm. Hey er.. " She looks at Ash,
"I'm okay, really I'm okay." And she tries to stand. The thing is she's not okay, yesterday she was worse, but today she's still sick.
"Ohh my tummy." The witch complains.
"Man this sucks." Granted it isnt' likely a doctor is going to do anything either, more likely they'd just proscribe rest and relaxaction and you know, plenty of fluids.
OOOOOOOOOH! NO YOU DI'INT! At those words, he just FLIES OFF THE HANDLE--
...
Ha ha, just kidding. The Frenchman isn't particularly offended by Daniel's remark, used to such types of people as he is, but the comment isn't exactly allowed to slide without rebuttal. Said once before to a man of far more stature without a hint of fear, so shall he do the same with the detective. Ash's smile finally returns in full-force and his eyes are reduced to slits, making him look positively fox-like, "I'd be careful if I were you, mon discriminating ami. If that chip on your shoulder gets any bigger, it's liable to break your back." The rest of the other man's words are ignored in lieu of Naerose speaking up once again, and as she does, well! Then that changes everything now, doesn't it? He's still not going to offer a buffet, however.
Tucking away a long strand of white hair as it comes loose from the ponytail, Ash hmms softly, wrinkling the bridge of his freckled nose briefly, "Well cherie, if you're certain, then perhaps you shouldn't be drinking one of those," One long finger with its intricate nail art points to the slurpee in her hand, "A water, or perhaps juice, would suit you far better." At least he lets go of the doctor idea quickly enough though, eh? Returning both hands to his pockets, the lean flamewielder turns to his original destination, realising now just how long this entire charade has taken. Ah, precious time that could've been spent watching soap operas /WASTED/! "There's a couple things I need to pick up for myself, but if you'd like... I'll grab whatever you need, if you want anything from here." Those blue eyes shift from the witch straight to Daniel, because he's deliberately pushing him. Let's see what you'll do from here. This should be fun!
Daniel Jack did not TRUST Ash, and his presentation was making it worse. But the detective, seeing that Naerose was NOT grabbing his hand, turns back over. Exhaling, he just SIGHS. This was the drama thing, wasn't it. "Look, Cherry, If you don't want a doctor, then why put up with... TRASH." Daniel Jack looks at the foxy pretty boy with icy eyes. "How about a nice juicy steakburger, Cherry. I'm talking full on MEAT. With any cheese you want. ANY. Total on me. I know about this joint..."
The detective suddenly tilts back his coffee, finishing it off in a single, solid gulp.
Suddenly there might just be a hope for Ash to get out of this situation. Clearly he bit off more than he could chew. Way more than he could chew. But what were you going to do? In this case you could count your lucky stars that despite the fact that Naerose can't possibly eat a steak burger, she's certainly going to try and likely really wish she hadn't because lets face it. Food poisoning + Steak sandwitch = Ultra fail.
"Alright, I am so there!" Exclaims the witch and she looks better, not because she is, but because mind over matter does make some difference. If you relaxed and tried not to feel the waves of suffering maybe you'd feel better about it, but mybe not.. Really Naerose had spent a day in pain so much she couldn't sleep, couldn't watch TV, her player can not make this point clear enough, it sucked really really bad. True illness was absolutely and utterly lame. Next time this happens she's going to down a bottle of Nyquil if for no other reason just to make the pain go away. Except how do you vomit then? That's a problem.
Hey, no harm done, and it's exactly the exit he was looking for, though the decision is one the Frenchman's rather certain that Naerose will regret later on as well. The flamewielder doesn't bother to say so however; it's officially out of his hands. She had her choice. She went with the steakburger... Which by the way, the offer of such just affirms to Ash that Daniel is an idiot. A very disappointing idiot. Oh well, c'est la vie.
It's a real talent, how his smile can still be so gosh-darn pleasant after being referred to as 'TRASH', yet as I mentioned before... He holds nothing but the utmost disregard for the detective, as well as finds him to be a dense, disappointing incompetent. How that opinion of the xenophobe might've changed if he had risen to the bait, but it's perhaps wise that events did not transpire that way. "Take care of yourself then, cherie. Hopefully you'll be feeling better in no time, ahaha." With that, lifting his hand up into the cold air, he gives a gentle wave before returning it to his pocket, "And to you, monsieur... Vous etes aussi utile qu'un frein a main sur un canoe." The tone of voice is light, effeminate and musical, but those blue eyes remain cold and distant. Ash then turns away and prepares to head into the 7-11... Unless he's prevented from doing so, of course.
Daniel Jack does not prevent the frog from leaving. He has Naerose to focus on. Unlike Ash, she was SOMEWHAT important to him. A dame in distress, he can't help but help them. It is just in his nature. While Ash would consider such actions as stupid, he just doesn't understand that a good burger cures ANYTHING. Especially with extra onions. Onions are anti-viral, you know. As long as she avoided the really rich cheeses, that would be great. Better than the Rohypnol that Ash was certainly going to give Naerose here.
The detective lets loose a tense grin as he tosses the cup at the ground. "Yeah, yeah, croak croak to you too, scuzzy. Bless it all, have a great day you damn fox. " Daniel's voice was terse, if sincere. After all, he WAS backing down. At that point, his only sin was being a typical Frenchie. Looking back at the already recovering Naerose, Daniel tilts his head down the street. "Come on, Cherry, lets get that burger, and some nice hard... hrm. Soda."
Really, the witch just didn't look like the kind of girl that would take booze.
Log created on 15:10:01 12/15/2008 by Naerose, and last modified on 00:13:44 12/26/2008.