Description: With Kula in tow, Frei heads to Paris to track down Ash Crimson. His expectations of helpful information are low, and of even finding Ash lower still, yet somehow fate brings these three people together. Mercurial and whimsical as ever, Ash helps in his own way, serving his own ends... but perhaps, in his own way, he has given the two seekers a grain of truth somewhere in a web of deception and misdirection.
Paris, France. A few days past, this city was alive with excitement over the start of the King of Fighters tournament; not just local fans, but those from all over Europe and the world came to be here for the introductory match between the Ash Team and the Einherjar Team. However, now it is said and done, and the venues for the next round have yet to be announced. In short, this means that the festival spirit that permeated the city has started to fade, and people are back to their normal lives. The Louvre, where the battle took place, has actually closed entirely for a few days to clean up. Tourists have left, and citizens have gone back to work. The streets feel a little bit emptier, and quieter. But for many residents of the City of Lights, this isn't exactly a bad thing at all.
There's another type of person who's happy to see the crowds go, too: an individual looking for someone. It's been a day since Frei made his way to the Sky Noah, seeking out a particular individual to grill for information. What he found he might someday wish he hadn't... but armed with the knowledge that the wielders of Kusanagi flame, and those like them, are holders of some special power, he now has to seek out what he views as the anomaly in this equation: Ash Crimson. It only took a moment or two of seeing Ash and Alma fight to make it clear that the Scarred Phoenix and the man with the mysterious green flame were at odds... and that Alma wanted answers from Ash. He's not here now, however, and Frei is. So... it's up to him to figure out what's going on.
Plus, sometimes there are things that seekers of ideals can't accomplish. Occasionally, you need to be willing to compromise to get what you want.
Right now, the afternoon is amazingly springlike, the breeze blowing across the city a pleasant warm zephyr, rather than the skin-piercing bite of winter's chill. Looking out over the Seine, Frei sits at a table of an outdoor cafe and sips from a cup of tea, gathering his thoughts. A white-haired and beautiful man all in red... he'd pieced together sightings and suggestions from all over the city. The trail ends here, in a row of shops and cafes along the river. But there's no sign of Ash at the moment, and the chi sage's jangled nerves were in desperate need of soothing. Hence a cup of tea, a croissant, and five seconds to think through his next move. There are other ways to find fighters -- an unexpected Neo League challenge is his next recourse -- but they often lead directly to battle, and Frei's not confident that a fight is the best way to get what he needs.
"I guess," he says aloud, looking at the skyline of Paris over the rim of his teacup, "this needs a woman's touch. Heh." Sip.
Frei hasn't been left alone in this pursuit as trailing him throughout his tour of France has been young Kula Diamond. A generally quiet companion throughout his investigations, she's content to just stick nearby him and look at the sights, listen to the sounds, and sample any tasty snacks aquired along the way. She doesn't seem to tire and never complains about being bored, seeming to lack the normal impatience typical in children look her age, and doesn't really speak up unless spoken to. She isn't great for small talk either unless Frei really tries to get her to open up, not seeming to know much of anything about pop culture, past entertainment venues, or world events in general, leaving her with little to say on such matters. She does speak up on occasion, offering her own commentary on something they saw or heard as they moved about the region, but only when it's just the two of them. She is occasionally playful, however, once freezing Frei's drink solid the moment he took his eyes off of it.
Trips off the Sky Noah for something other than Einherjar related oprations are fairly infrequent for the girl. With no family and no close friends, there's no real motivation to go enjoy the 'day to day' recreations or educational opportunities afforded many growing children. There seems to be a quiet enthusiasm for the trip for her even if the motivations behind it are fairly weighty considerations. While Frei may find himself brooding over the information he's gained, Kula's eyes sparkle with unspoken excitement at being out of the airship for a change.
She blends in all right wherever they go, her hair lacking that eye-catching sky blue color that is standard for her when in combat. She'll smile when addressed but otherwise seems painfully shy in dealing with everyone that is not Frei, probably easily dismissed by many as being a younger relative of the chi sage. She dresses warm regardless of weather, wearing a long coat over her clothing. The only curious habit that might stand out is how she routinely removes her strange yellow gloves and stows them in the shoulder bag she's toted along for this outing. Then, thirty minutes later, she'll draw them back out and put them back on, only to repeat the removal process after a while. If asked about it, she'll simply murmur that her hands are cold, and leave it at that.
The red-headed man out seeking a specific individual may have the fate of the world weighing on his mind but Kula reflects none of that anxiety, which may strike him as a bit incongruous given the actual reason she's even /here/. A glance at the cafe patrons seated about the patio ends with Kula glancing back at Frei, "Everyone seems happy enough. Maybe you shouldn't worry so much." She makes the declaration as if it's as simple as that. "But I guess knowing too much can make it hard to do." Her gloves are off at the moment, her fingers wrapped around a cup of hot cocoa sitting on the table that she hasn't sipped much from, as if enjoying the warmth of the beverage almost moreso than the consumption thereof.
"Where do we go next?" she asks as if expecting Frei to have all the answers. There isn't impatience in her tone but rather that same quiet excitement for whatever location they will find next on their tour.
Ah, spring!
Or the illusion of spring.
Perhaps it's a prelude?
Oh, who cares! Ash approves of this fine weather. Since his hotel room was getting stuffy and unbearable, having spent much of his post-match time there, today is pleasant enough to venture out on a whim. He stretches his legs, wandering, and gathering some books so that he's entertained during his trip to the countryside... The Frenchman is being productive, because he can't sulk over his team's loss forever.
Or can he?
Maybe.
Parcel in one hand, plastic bag handles slung over his other arm, his shopping is winding down for the evening. The slender, freckle-faced fighter continues to stroll along at a leisurely pace, humming to himself. It's terribly off-key, but Ash is tone-deaf, whereas the people around him are not. They kinda stare, or raise eyebrows, but ultimately say nothing, allowing the eccentric individual to carry on his way without interruption.
Ash cares too little to notice.
"Hm," The flamewielder says to himself after a few moments, not wanting to return 'home' so soon. He pauses and glances around, looking for something to delay him. Frei and Kula are in his sights at that moment (SPEAK OF THE DEVIL AND HE SHALL COME), but they are not what catches his attention, "Ah, tea!" He's not cold, but it's a good enough excuse. Hips in full swing, dressed-down and looking very comfortably casual in grey slacks and a black winter jacket, Ash sashays on by into the cafe.
Unfortunately, all the seats are taken, but after a brief conversation in French with the waitress, she escorts him out to the patio and after setting down his parcel and bag, Ash reaches up to tug at the lengthy fringe of platinum blonde hair, twisting it gently around his finger, "Don't I know you two?" Kula seems more familiar to him, but without icy blue tresses, it's kinda throwing the flamewielder off.
"Haaaaa... that's a good question," Frei says in response, glancing over at Kula. If he hadn't had a day to actually experience it, he wouldn't have believed it even possible... but he was expecting to have the former assassin as a sort of... well, 'cool' tagalong, keeping to herself, all business. What he got was, for lack of a better description, a trip to the city with his little sister in tow. It hasn't exactly been unpleasant; if anything, it's a nice counterpoint to Frei's experiences with his ACTUAL siblings, considering that the last time he saw either of his brothers, one of them tried to kill not only Frei, but also tried to severely mess up everyone he knew. It wasn't a fun time. And considering that the two of them seem to share one particularly defining feature -- an epic sweet tooth -- you'd hardly believe that they were actually on a trip to potentially halt world-spanning occult disaster. Frodo and Sam didn't stop for crepes and ice cream on the way to Mordor.
One would scarcely credit either Frei or Kula with the moments of their past lives, to see them on the streets of Paris.
"Maybe you're right," Frei says, tipping the cup to his lips and blinking at the *clink!* of a perfectly solid chunk of Darjeeling tea against his teeth. Setting the cup down with a faint chuckle, he shrugs. "It could be nothing. But if it's not nothing, I'd rather not have all these happy people end u--"
And then Ash Crimson is standing *right next to his table* and addressing Kula with blithe not-quite-familiarity, and the redhead can do little else but suddenly turn toward the eccentric Frenchman with a totally dumbfounded expression. Of all the places, in all the cities, and all the times... when they had literally searched most of Paris and were at the very last place on the list... Ash Crimson basically materializes out of *nowhere* at their very table.
Perhaps to the detriment of the mission, however, all Frei can do is look up at Ash and say, in a stunned voice, "...I don't believe it."
It's best not to dwell upon how much blood is on the hands of the girl seated at the table with Frei. For all of the aspects of her that exist as a byproduct of her sheltered, relatively brief life as a child, the sinister purpose of her origin occupied a very significant amount of her time while operating 'on the other side'. But here and now she seems to be just happy to keep Frei company and if all goes well, the true reason she offered to accompany him on this investigation will not be forced to the forefront.
Whatever the reason may be, she seems to have taken fairly well to Frei. Maybe it's because he speaks to her like a person and not a weapon. Or that he didn't retreat to observe her from afar like many do, fearing for their own well being in the company of such a young killer. Maybe he reminds her of someone else who had treated her well - a rare shread of decency within the heart of the Cartel. She doesn't seem the sort to maintain facades or put on false pretenses for the sake of getting along, as if such social survival tools aren't exactly in her toolbox.
"Are you going to challenge him to a fight if we can't find him?" she asks. It may seem odd to those not familiar with the culture of fighters to arrange meetings that way, but in a society of people where a punch to the face is the closest thing you can get to a 'hello' in some cases, it doesn't seem that strange. Just possibly risky, in this case, given what Frei is trying to find out. "I faced him before." she adds. A detail that might have been nice to mention prior to now. "I hope we can find him this way instead."
It would seem their investigations got them close enough and good/bad fortune has filled in that last gap in finding the enigmatic Frenchman, for no sooner than Kula giggles lightly over Frei discovering his frozen drink, Ash Crimson is directed out to the patio by the welcoming waitress.
Violet eyes stray to her own cup for a long moment, the girl trying to think of another way of helping Frei get answers to his questions, when a voice addresses the two of them right nearby. Eyes widening a little, she glances up, half turning in her seat to better face Ash, studying the young lookikng man briefly. Instinctual, programmed threat assessments subconsciously set aside thoughts of immediate danger, even though she had been the one to warn Frei of the risks of pursuing his quest. "You do!" she helpfully points out. "We once fought in a SNF event along with that crazy mercenary, Rolento. My name is Kula Diamond." Frei seems a bit too surprised at this turn of events to chime in right away, so Kula does so for him. "We were looking for you all day!" The tone has a certain tone of expecatation to it, as if Ash should have magically known all along these two were out trying to find him and made himself more easily located somehow.
As Frei stares at him, Ash peers curiously back, blinking those blue eyes. Those strange blue eyes, their depths devoid of warmth or any other real emotion. He continues trying to place the chi sage, head canting to the side, and then Kula again, but the Frenchman's memory is notoriously bad - it's good of her to provide him with the answer. "Ahaha, yes!" His face lights up with recognition, "It's been quite some time, cherie. I hope you're doing well?" He's friendly, beaming, all kinds of cheerful and nice. Crimson even pulls a chair from his table, choosing to sit with them without invitation.
Kula did say that they were looking for him, so he assumes he isn't imposing. How rude!
The effeminate man slouches a bit in his chair, relaxing almost instantly. He picks a bit of lint from his jacket with long black fingernails, pencil-thin eyebrow lifting high on his forehead. "I wonder why you're looking for me. Did you want to go for ice cream?" He's so weird-- wait a minute! Ash smiles pleasantly, "I know you now, you're Alma's teammate." There is something annoying and knowing about his expression just then, as he says that...
But Ash reveals nothing further.
At least he appeared out of nowhere, perhaps a bit too conveniently, like he was waiting to approach them... Even though Crimson totally wasn't.
'Well, I was just wondering if you knew anything about the potential coming apocalypse.' Yes, that would be a perfect start.
A hand comes up to the side of Frei's head as he turns his head away a little bit, brushing stray locks of red hair away from his face. Ash recognizes that he's a member -- however informally -- of the Einherjar team, and Kula mentions they were looking for Ash before Frei can say anything. The problem with everything falling into place with a disturbing, Tetris-like seamlessness is that you can really be blindsided by getting exactly what you wanted. There's so many things to do and more importantly, so many ways that this could go wrong. And that look on Ash's face...
Where to start.
For a moment, the young sage looks up at the sky, then over at Kula, and then back at Ash. With his typical verve, he just... dives right in. "I saw you fighting in KoF," he says, glancing at Ash and watching his expression carefully. "Your fighting style is really... unique. In some ways most people wouldn't recognize."
There's a pause while he seems to hear those words echo back in his own ears, before he sighs and presses his fingers to his temples, eyes shut, and then gestures to the table they're sitting at. "Do you want some tea?" he says at last, sounding a little desperate. "I... I have something I want to talk about. And don't worry," he finishes, with an embarassed, sheepish smile. "My methods are a little less... heavy-handed than Alma's."
'Why yes, I do! But I'm certainly not going to tell you.' A perfect start deserves a perfect response.
... Wait, that's not perfect at all. That's just being a douche!
It is surprising how eager Frei seems to 'dive right in', so to speak. He seems like a timid person... But just as the man rushes, he also quickly retreats, Ash making a soft noise of interest. The Frenchman leans a bit in towards the red-headed sage, wetting his dry lips with a flash of tongue. Crimson knew the Anti-K' was not interested in finding him all along, and this is unexpected! Don't flee, he is curious! "Oho, and I take it you did?" He wonders outloud.
Then, Ash leans back in his chair, tipping it onto its hind legs, granting Frei his space. He rocks himself back and forth, toying with his blonde hair, "Tea would be lovely. That's why I'm here, after all." Pale lids close over his blue eyes, the flamewielder looking positively fox-like, all traces of knowing and everything else gone, replaced by this unfathomable... something... "But I hope you have more interesting questions for me. Alma's are rather dull." A pause, "I don't have much patience to spare for things that bore me."
His laughter is soft and musical, and Ash, mercurial and unique, speaks of seeking approval without actually caring for it, "I hope you understand." He laces his fingers together, pointed chin coming to rest upon the knuckles.
Does he understand? In a weird way, within the space of the few moments that Ash's reply gives him, Frei actually does begin to understand a little bit. At heart, he is a scholar, driven by a need to know things... and in the unreadable countenance, the seeming surface blitheness, and general inscrutability of Ash Crimson, Frei sees that 'quality' that makes people want to crack enigmas like Ash open with a hammer just to see what's on the inside, if anything. A less charitable source might claim that the Frenchman is a veneer of amused detachment poured thick over a whole lot of nothing to hide it from sight; Frei isn't that foolish. And most importantly, deep down, the chi sage knows that it's the ones with a carefree smile that you have to be the most wary of. A frown or a scowl hides little, but a smile is a shroud that can obscure much indeed.
Noting that it had some traction with Kula, Frei dives right in, tilting his head forward a little and looking at Ash with a serious expression, eyes moving upward to keep a watch on the Frenchman's face. "Yes... I did," he replies, to Ash's first question. Most people wouldn't have known to look for it, and even Frei got a bit lucky the very first time. But the problem with the Kusanagi flame -- among other powers, it would seem -- is that, unlike the mysteries of Psycho Power, they are 'close enough' to the domain of chi that they are not terribly different in the end, but are different enough to worry the senses of someone like Frei like a hangnail. Once exposed to the difference, it's as plain as day... if you know where to look.
For a second, Frei's thoughts stray inexplicably to Kentou, as he calls to mind images of Ash's curious green flame... perhaps because that green color is strongly associated with the young Chinese fighter, in Frei's mind. But in that case, there's... an explanation, if an ambiguous one. There's no reason for Ash's flame to have that emerald hue. Even Kula's ice makes sense, given her story about her origins.
"I don't have anything to gain from trying to hide things from you," Frei says at last, trying to focus on the task at hand. "There's maybe a handful of people in the world I know about, that have... a power like yours," is how he chooses to express it, bringing a hand up, fingers curled in and thumb tucked behind them, Frei's thumbnail hovering just by his mouth, a gesture of contemplation... or a nervous displacement. "And I have to find out the connection."
Why? Because he felt a great cavernous maw underneath Sunshine City? Because his dreams are haunted by the sense of a great and terrible darkness, hungering in the shadows? Would any of that convince Ash Crimson to tell Frei what he very likely hasn't told anyone else?
"Something is coming," Frei says, weighing his options. "I don't want to wait around and do nothing. That means asking you questions you probably don't want to answer."
os Hahaha.
"Nn!" comes the reply to the affirmative from Kula with regards to doing well. She seems to be in good spirits, taking well to being Frei's company for this outing. Without insight into what she was capable of, it would certainly be impossible to surmise that she was along just in case 'things got dangerous'. As to the question about ice cream, she shakes her head, exhaling slightly in resignation, considering that a much better idea than what they /were/ here for, "No, not this time..." This time there's more serious business to discuss, though that's Frei's burden, not hers.
In fact, the conversation steers that way as the mysterious young man shifts his focus to the curious scholar who may be trying to discover information he'd rather have not ever learned. The way he finally jumps into the questions at hand is almost identical to how he broached the topic with the young ice wielder. Time to see if he gets equally effective results? Something tells her that Ash isn't going to be quite as forthcoming. Maybe it's that look in his eyes that suggest he enjoys the back and forth exchange of words a lot more?
She does nod in a kind of silent agreement to not having time for things that are boring though. No one likes that! Frei says he has nothing to gain by withholding things himself and Kula casts him a sidelong glance over her cup of tea. She felt comfortable being open with him. After all, he was a part of her new extended family! But the Frechman? She's not so sure how much she would say to him and if Frei starts treading into NESTS-specific territory, she might pipe up to interrupt.
But for now, it seems as Frei is still dancing around the big question foremost in Kula's thoughts, not quite coming out and asking about the connection point blank. She can wait a little longer before just blurting it out herself, but the cup in her hand that she sips from is running low and will cease to be sufficient distraction shortly.
Some eggs are better left uncracked, some smiles are better left misunderstood, some truths are better left... unknown. Ash's grin remains firmly in place; he seems years younger and almost mischievous, "Connection?" It wasn't a question, but, "I'm not sure I can help you there," He briefly considers acting like the sore loser he was just hours before, but while treating Frei HORRIBLY and leading him away on some wild, fruitless goose chase would be amusing, Crimson's not that much of a jerk. The Frenchman chooses to be unhelpfully honest, instead! "This will not be news to you, but the Kusanagi and Yagami families possess bloodline flames. Perhaps I was born with my own, oui? Ha ha ha."
He'll never know, and his parents are dead. There is no reason. But, that man...
No.
Ash chirps brightly, continuing, "Maybe you could tell /me/ something about them." With another lilting trill of laughter, the slender, blonde-haired man eases his chin off his hands, lifting an arm high into the air. He waves down a waitress - the one who originally brought him out to the patio - and orders some raspberry tea. Also, a strawberry danish. Strawberry danishes are delicious.
... Wait a second, don't the three of them all have sweet-tooths? Where are your desserts!
Blue eyes briefly drifting to Kula. What is the part she is to play in all of this? He certainly doesn't view the girl as a bodyguard, though Ash knows of her abilities - she is a capable fighter. Her disappointment earns an indulgent quirk of thin lips. "Saa, something is coming? You'll need to be more specific." And then the flamewielder will decide if he wants to answer, his attention returning to Frei. Considering how the words seem ominous, he's already fairly certain of where this conversation will go. The red-headed sage will need to tread lightly here.
He will also need to explain this connection between events and Ash. Seeing him fight in KoF is not nearly enough.
"Yagami...?" To Ash, common knowledge. To Frei, new information. Iori Yagami... any professional fighter knows who that is, though Frei himself has never met him. That purple fire had never been something the young sage had experienced in person, but as Ash casually mentions the name of the clan, and Frei replays in his head images of famous fights that Iori has been part of -- and his well-publicized rivalry with Kyo Kusanagi -- the similarity in style, even in the way the flames are used, seems to fall into place. "Haaaa... I suppose that was right in front of my face and I never noticed." It's a piece of the puzzle, yet not, because it presents more questions than it answers. Why are Iori's flames purple, for example? If they were chi flame, the answer would be obvious, as many people manifest chi of a distinct and unusual color. But bloodline flame with that amethyst hue?
There's a lull as Frei sits back, giving Ash the break in the action he requires to order something for himself. "If I had anything to tell you," he says, once the Frenchman has finished with the waitress, "I gladly would if I thought it would help. The truth is I'm already amazed that there exists an ability to control real flame in the first place. It doesn't even seem... possible..."
He pauses, glancing down at his still-frozen tea for a moment, and then at Kula. How much of her past is fair game in this conversation? For an instant he is, in fact, paranoid... while the girl has given him no reason to doubt her intentions the entire trip, the possibility exists that she's here to watch Frei as much as help him. He blinks once or twice, then dismisses the possibility as somewhat silly... but the entire process is useful, in that it reminds him that while he will lay everything he knows on the table, doing so with everything _Kula_ knows is a different story.
"I..." How to make Ash trust him? How to give this young man with the Cheshire Cat smile and demeanor something he wants? That's the thrust of it, really. Nothing comes free. There has to be a rate of exchange, no matter what.
"There's no reason you'd know anything about me," he says to Ash, eyelids lowering a bit. "But I study chi. All of this... fighting world stuff, it's just a means to an end. The interesting thing is, though," Frei adds, now bringing his gaze back up, green eyes meeting with Ash's bright blue ones, "is that I felt it was a type of science. There were rules and quirks and systems. And in that system, fire -- REAL fire -- does not come out of nowhere. Just... something like it. That's context for what I'm ABOUT to say."
This is the sell. He needs to be 'more specific'? Well, that's possible. And from the stricken look on Frei's face -- and the way his hand, shaking very very slightly but visibly, tenses around the teacup he suddenly grips -- this is much farther into his recollection of the experience than he's shared with anyone to date, with the exception of one man who may have seen as much himself. "Sunshine City. There's a ruined temple there, and I had a match inside it, during a tournament. And I felt... I felt..."
Claws in the darkness. Tendrils snaking across the land. And most importantly, a terrible, dark, and insatiable hunger. A vision that haunts his nightmares, a month later.
"A presence. In a world where I had it all worked out, suddenly this... dark, terrifying _presence_ was there, underground, waiting. Like a predator waiting in the bushes." Frei's gaze flickers between Kula and Ash as he speaks, the chi sage realizing he never shared this much of the situation with Kula. "But while I believe man can learn to call something like fire into being, I didn't believe in a devourer in the dark. I could have put it up to... something unusual, unremarkable, in a world like that. But I've found out that's not the world I live in, Mr. Crimson. I live in a world where people control the elements. Not the echo of them most fighters use, but the actual natural phenomenon. That's a world where the hunger in the dark might be *real*."
Kula is quiet as Ash speaks. It isn't her problem to try and sort out the words in play at this table. She doesn't have that burning curiosity that Frei possesses - that nagging sense that there is something that /must/ be figured out. As inocuous as she appears, sitting at the table, clad in the coat that wards off what little chill hangs in the air, she's there to keep Frei safe... From physical dangers. The inherent risks associated with knowing too much about the matters he's probing are for him to manage.
When Ash studies her briefly, Kula smiles back, possibly disarmed by the non-confrontational nature of the mysterious young looking man. When the waitress makes her return trip, a slice of chocolate cake is requested and for the time it takes for the dessert to be brought out, it seems the girl's attention is focused more on the door leading back into the cafe than the conversation. When it is finally brought out and placed in front of her, she takes a moment to remove her right glove, resting it in her lap, freeing her fingers to better manipulate the provided fork.
The pastry seems the focus of her attention, yet when Frei glances her way it's almost as if Kula seems to know, looking up to lock her violet eyes with his briefly. Her expression continues to come across friendly, though there does seem to be a bit of something behind it - a certain 'understanding', like she's following a lot more than she seems to be on the surface. As he turns his focus back to Ash, she is already back to focusing on the cake in front of her.
Even as Frei goes on to speak about the presence in the temple, Kula seems distracted, like the conversation isn't all that interesting to her. Closing the fingers of her left hand into a fist, she props her cheek against it, sucking on her fork for a moment, occasionally glancing between Ash and Frei.
These questions...
Frei is wise beyond his years, choosing not to seek answers regarding the Yagami scion and his unusual amethyst flames from Ash; the Frenchman would just smile and say that he'll know in time. This is like a game of poker, and everyone knows that poker is quite dull with all the cards laying face-up. "Does the ability to control fire seem surreal?" Said almost privately, the freckle-faced fighter wonders how anyone can be so naive. THAT strikes /him/ as surreal.
Honestly, look at the people of this world. Look at what they're capable of. This ability may be rare, but not unheard of, and certainly not impossible... It's deeply saturated in history, in--
"I wonder if you've ever heard of this legend..."
Ash's manner is mild - almost lazy - fingers curling around a warm cup of pleasant-scented tea, absorbing it's warmth (the waitress brought his order with Kula's). Though he speaks once the red-head is done, his words suggest a distinct lack of interest in Sunshine City or the dark presence felt there. He doesn't even mention it. Who cares that Frei cannot accept the existence of the unknown? "Years ago, in Japan, there was an eight-headed serpent. Every year for seven years, a couple was forced to sacrifice one of their daughters to it. The eighth was transformed into a comb." He reaches up, pondering and gently scratching his chin, nails long and painted black, "I don't remember the rest."
ASH, YOU DICK.
"A sacred sword was found when the serpent was slain, though. The Kusanagi no Tsurugi." With a effeminate giggle, he looks from Frei to Kula and back again, shoulders moving in a slight shrug, his expression nigh unreadable. Slender hands wrap around the ceramic mug once again. "An interesting coincidence, isn't it?"
The Frenchman abandons his tale there, and even whatever his train of thought was, WHY he brought this up. His topic returns to the chi scholar's concerns, previously forgotten, "You might want to consider that anything's possible, mais non? If man can wield fire, wind and ice, or defy even time itself, why are there rules? And who or what will enforce them?"
Ash leans in a little, whispering, his words saccharine-sweet, "Us?" A pause. "Ahaha!"
"Hard to believe without proof, maybe," Frei says to Ash, giving him a surprisingly world-weary smile for the briefest of moments, "but not surreal." Surreal is killing your own clone. Surreal is hearing pieces of your psyche manifest as animal gods from a culture and mythology you weren't raised in. Surreal is holding a little glowing orb of your own life force in the palm of your hand. Mere *fire*? That's practically prosaic, by comparison to what any of these three individuals have faced in even their short(?) lifetimes. But before he can comment further on that, Ash launches into a story from Japanese antiquity. The Orochi legend... an eight-headed serpent. A sword, a mirror, and a gem. The names didn't mean much to Frei; the idea that Japan has semi-mythical imperial regalia seemed like just another cultural myth, to him. As far as anyone could guess, the actual Ame no Murakumo, the Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi, is a rusty blade a bajillion years old, stugged in a shrine somewhere. A wine cup, maidens, a hero who slays the beast... normally, he'd dismiss this as entirely unimportant coincidence indeed, just as Ash claims he would. But now? "Oh, my goodness..." Frei says, suddenly leaning back in his chair and staring blankly upward, running his hand through his hair. "Orochi the Eight-headed Serpent. Just like Mimiru was looking for when I first met her..."
For a moment, Frei's thoughts stick, willingly or not, to Jiro's little sister. A scrapper, like her brother... strong-willed and a little obtuse, also like her brother. For a moment, he wonders where the girl is now, after so many years. Does she even know that Jiro's passed on? What would she say if she found out the Orochi she thought Frei was a 'head' of may have been an actual demon beast out of supernatural antiquity?
"Oh... there are no rules," Frei says, finally, sitting up and grabbing hold of his wits for the first time, tilting his head and glancing at Ash, actually shivering a little from the sudden, unnerving feeling of having the Frenchman lean in and *whisper* like that. Ash Crimson... has an unsettling aura, in a lot of ways, ways that you don't need to be psychic to sense. Still, give Frei an inch to expound on a philosophical concept, and he'll take a mile. "Sieve the universe down to the tiniest particle and you won't find a single law about the way people should act built into it. But... I believe that's why we need to try all the harder to have rules, even if it's just for ourselves."
If there is no law, make some. If the law is oppressive, break it. There has to be a balance. And one thing Frei believes wholeheartedly: everyone's accountable to something, someday.
Pausing, he sits back in his chair and listlessly draws abstract patterns on the top of the table with his fingertip, brow furrowed in thought. "'The Sword of Gathering Stormclouds', or the 'Grass-Cutter'... well. Like the ancient Greek religion. Zeus came to be as an explanation for thunder and lightning." He stops, after that. Whether Kyo's family is named after the sword, or the sword after his family -- or neither, for that matter, is irrelevant. Clearly, Kyo Kusanagi is tied to this *somehow*. "Though there were two other treasures, if I remember the legend right. A soul gem, and a mirror..." Are there people out there for those 'treasures' as well? Who can say?
Why has NESTS fixated only on the Kusanagi bloodline, Kula wonders to herself. Growing up in their labratories and in their secret, hidden bases, one can't stop hearing about Kyo, Kyo, Kyo, and his magical fire blood that the whole Cartel seems so obsessed about. She had warned Frei that she wasn't sure where Ash's flame wielding power originated from, cautioned that it could be even more NESTS manipulations in play, hence her presence 'just in case.' And maybe that is still the truth of the matter. Looking at Ash in person, it seems impossible to divine one way or another where his emerald flames stem from.
She remains quiet as Ash replies, allowing Frei to hear, absorb, and process every word the Frenchman says. It's his curiosity they're here to sate after all. The legend is brought up and the ice wielder frowns a little. Having finished her cake, she places the fork back on the plate, small crystals of frost decorating its surface as she pulls her hand back. Slipping her hand back into her yellow glove is done without a thought - she's done it thousands of times in her life.
Frei mentions killing his own clone and the girl lifts her left hand, fingers running through her hair before coming to a rest against the side of her head, eyes closed for a moment as she reflects on that moment so long ago now. Her eyes open when Frei reacts to the legendary tale, shifting to focus on the sage struggling to fit together the pieces. "Do you think that's what you felt before?" she asks Frei, thinking back on his mention of Sunshine City. "Is that Orochi?"
She half closes her eyes, leaning back in her chair a little as she does some thinking of her own. Why is she not sensing all these things Frei has mentioned. With her own genetics, shouldn't she be attunedto something like that? Frei spoke of a nagging sensation of something coming, but she knows of no such idea. Is it a byproduct of how the bloodline trait was modified in her own DNA? Has it deadened her sensitivity to the very purpose of Kyo's envied power? Does K' feel something? She will have to find out...
The time has come.
For the sake of world peace and the greater good, all danishes must be eaten.
--Yeah, I have no idea.
Deemed 'unsettling', Ash pays the reaction no mind. He smirks faintly, blue eyes roaming the sage's face, then slips back, lounges, and picks up his plate and pastry. The flamewielder takes a cautious nibble, brow furrowed...
It... passes the test with flying colours!
Uttering a delighted 'mmm!', he listens to the thoughtful rambling that follows and enjoys his dessert /at the same time/, savouring it. His expressions are the sort that may suggest to a casual onlooker that he's a simpleton, what with all the pleased wiggles and bright smiles. Ash settles once finished, licking his fingertips clean like a cat, "Mmmgoh?" Oops. Swallowing the last bit of strawberry treat and wiping his hands on a napkin instead, he smiles.
Ash is impressed; given an inch, Frei runs a mile. Also, he has been manipulated, exactly how the flamewielder intended. Crimson provided a vague story to rule out any strong connection on his part, but with just enough information to imply that what he knows is easily come by... Mimiru deserves a medal for her unknowing support. Hopefully, the chi scholar will seek answers elsewhere. He'll make an enemy here should he attempt to pry into the Frenchman's affairs further.
"These rules don't have anything to do with behaviour, but how we are to co-exist with everything around us," He is dismissive, waving a hand, "Or maybe I have no idea. I hate talking about these things. I always confuse myself." Philosophy, science... MEH, says Ash. "And as for the other two..."
Tracing the rim of his mug, the flamewielder trails off. He exhales gently, disturbing platinum blonde bangs. "Ah," He laughs to Kula suddenly, "Don't get too ahead of yourself, cherie." She might want to ask him about NESTS, or never know... Could Ash Crimson be a product of their horrible experiments, just like K' and ultimately herself?
Would NESTS ever admit to cloning someone so weird?
He lifts his cup to conceal a brief change in expression. Ash takes a long drink of raspberry tea - almost half his mug - then sets it down again upon the table's top. "This is wonderful tea." Apparently he's in heaven on earth.
For a moment, Frei glances at Ash, but what's really in his head is color theory, or more accurately, the mythology of colors. In the west, water is associated with the color blue because it reflects the sky... but in China, water is associated with the color black, to represent the unknowable depths of a lake or the sea. Rough waves or still seas, the glassiest, most pure of waters can still have dark, impenetrable depths that are unreadable to all but the closest observers. And while Frei would like to think his intution and ability to read people is good -- in fact, it probably is considerably better than average -- he admits, without question, that Ash Crimson is a closed book. All that is clear, after speaking with him even this short while, is that there are hollows and trenches that the light of day may never penetrate, in this case. That someone like Alma, who would see the world's heart laid bare, finds this man terrifying, is not too difficult a leap.
Yet tiny moments of connection seem to slip through. Thoughts about life, the universe, and everything... tiny statements about a larger world that are then quickly and swiftly yanked back, slammed behind a door of seemingly polite, totally blithe indifference. Some might put it up to the eccentric speech patterns of European nobility. To Frei, it seems as if Ash *wants* to discuss these matters, but refuses to allow himself the luxury of doing so.
It is, strangely enough, a profoundly sad and lonely feeling.
"If I were the hero type..." Frei says quietly, and into a long silence that seemed to hang in the air for quite some time, one punctuated by sips and glances, displacement activities all, "...I might say, 'I don't think you're telling me everything.' But... well, I'm not a hero type, and for two, I *know* you're not telling me everything. For all I know," he says suddenly, locking gazes with Ash, "you could be sending me off to my death for being so nosy." The gaze is not meant to intimidate; lord knows, that is not Frei's thing. Nor is it a search for what's hidden, as he expects Ash's gaze to give up nothing more than his words have. But it is a show of Frei's resolve, which is prodigious, and his lack of fear, which is surprising giving the timid-seeming way in which he approached this little tete-a-tete.
"A more polite person," he finishes, closing his eyes for a moment and bringing hand up and pressing it palm-down on his sternum, "would instead say, 'thank you.' And, well... I hope I've been at least as diverting as you might have wanted," Frei adds, hearkening back to Ash's very earliest statement, about his hatred of boredom.
"It seems as if," Frei says quietly, brushing off his shirt, "that you needed the company."
At Ash's gentle reproach, Kula glances back toward him, settling back down in her chair with a blink of her eyes, caught off guard by the recommendation that she not get ahead of herself. The talk of rules or Frei's musings on what the other two treasures were that escape his mind at the moment are matters she hasn't tried to concern herself with. But it's impossible for mention of ancient monsters and dark premonitions in the modern day to not spark her imagination and get her mind racing at the implications. But it seems Ash is not interested in having the conversation explore that line of thought any further, commenting on the quality of the tea as if it's an item of greater import, much to the younger girl's chagrin.
Pouting a little, she glances back toward Frei expectantly, but the chi sage seems lost in thought for a long moment, not eager to reply immediately. But when he replies, it is easy to detect the closing of this interesting exchange. In her mind, almost nothing was gained by the effort. But she doesn't know what Frei is going to do next, where his research or pursuit of knowledge will take him. Her hint of a frown gives way to a slightly amused look as Frei once again mentions that he isn't the heroic type. He's pretty adamament about that, given how he said the same thing to her.
She is mildly alarmed that Frei says he isn't even sure that Ash isn't sending him off to die for what he's probed into for now. A second glance is cast toward the flame wielder, brow furrowed just slightly, silently asking herself - He wouldn't do that, would he? He seemed perfectly amicable throughout the exchange to her, the girl not able to process or detect the many tiny nuances that have made Frei so uncertain as to the frenchman's intentions. "At least the tea was wonderful," she offers helpfully, just in case the dialogue didn't meet Ash's standards for being interesting!
It would only be later on that she'd ask Frei if he had gotten what he had hoped for - or anything useful at all for his efforts. As for her, she enjoyed the dessert. And meeting Ash again, the young looking man having made a strange impression on her the last time they encountered each other... What a strange day out!
Ash's eyes, lazily lidded and pale blue, stare levelly at Frei during the silence, breaking visual contact only when he sips at his tea. Has the sage gleaned small pieces of insight from their exchange? Is he over-analyzing the mysterious flamewielder? The answer is unclear... Crimson's words could be just the hollow musings of an eccentric Frenchman, as many would assume, and he is known to possess little attachment to whatever he says. In past, for his own amusement, he has also suggested that there is much more... A deeper connection waiting to happen, should he let it.
That really shows how much he cares.
In short, there are many ways to interpret him, and evidence to support all theories... He is a bastard, a friend, dangerous... Truth is lies and lies are lies. Frei may be right. Or wrong. Maybe he misunderstood? Elisabeth might have been some assistance in clearing up this matter... but she barely knows her childhood friend anymore. She knew him only /as he was/.
When the sage finally speaks, he will not be manipulated so easily, seeing through the clever ruse. The flamewielder's laughter is bright - almost joyful. Ignorance is bliss! He tried! But the results are still the same. Guided to blindness or not, Frei realises that he must seek his answers elsewhere, that Ash is not telling him everything... And the platinum blonde-haired fighter must be prepared for potential interference, if the red-headed young man can even figure out how to do such a thing. The Frenchman will never allude to his goals.
"I honestly doubt Kyo Kusanagi's ability to kill anyone, although he can be rather rude and unpleasant," The lean fighter pauses here, but adds shortly after, clarifying his response, "And it would be bothersome, if I even tried." He taps a long finger against his lower lip, revealing more than expected, confirming Kula's hopes: Ash doesn't want Frei dead. Whether the sage is not worth his time or because he values life... "Imagine, going to jail..." He shakes his head, giggling, "Ahaha, that would be terrible! No, I'm not sending you anywhere. You are responsible for yourself."
So take that resolve and apply it however you want.
He drains his cup, "Besides," Ash grins faintly, "I only told you a story. A legend. I thought you didn't believe in monsters, or creatures capable of pitching the world into darkness? Why do anything?"
Setting the empty mug down, his expression softens when he looks to Kula, "Cherie, it was nice seeing you again." And then to Frei, as the slender, effeminate wielder of emerald flames rises from his seat, he says, "It was an interesting chat, and whether I needed the company or not... You've already decided that, mais non?" Ash drops some coins on the table, gathers his belongings and whisks away with a wink, "Au revoir!" Bumping into the waitress along the way, he stops to chat her up briefly...
He must know... WHERE THEY GET THEIR TEA.
And then, just like that, Ash Crimson is gone. Frei and Kula get a chance to watch him go, laughing merrily, picking up the company of a waitress on the way out for whatever nefarious purposes(*) he might have in mind. Curiously enough, despite the grim tone of their conversation, and the matters they discussed, what remains in Frei's memory after Ash is well gone is that crystalline laughter. Something in the harmonic of it... gnaws at him. Not that it isn't genuinely amused, because it was. It just had a... quality. Something the red-haired fighter can't put his finger on.
(* surprisingy: tea)
Slumping backwards in his chair, Frei lets his body run slack, feeling tension he wasn't aware he'd been sustaining drain out of his limbs ad muscles now that the 'interrogation' is over. The realization of that surprises him; apparently he'd been whip-tense the whole time without knowing it, which is strange by his own personal standards. Turning to Kula, he gives the blonde a wan smile. "That was about what I expected, don't worry," Frei says, trying to be a little bit reassuring. Turing back to watch the direction Ash left in, Frei brings a hand to his mouth in contemplation. "Answers that are questions more than they are answers. Even if we take the legend of Yamata-no-Orochi at face value, it's not terribly helpful, is it? If the Kusanagi hold a sacred treasure somehow, or ARE the treasure, whatever..."
Here, Frei shrugs and shakes his head sadly. "Too many variables. Are there other people or families for the other two? And what about the Orochi itself? Is it like you thought it might be, that... _thing_ underneath Sunshine City? Or is it some guy, or EIGHT different people? No way of knowing for sure, except one."
Sighing, he looks at Kula thoughtfully. "It's funny, though. He thought I meant Kyo might kill me, but that's definitely not true. I've met him. He's... well, he's not the most socially adept guy on the planet," says Generous Understatement Man Frei, "but I felt like deep down he was decent. Arrogant, but decent. No, Kyo's not the danger..."
A shrug, a smile, a shake of the head. "I suppose there's no sense worrying when we could be doing." A beat, before the chi sage glances again at his companion. "You think Kyo will tell me anything he might know?" The question has an impish tone of voice to it, and a mischievous look in Frei's eye... suggestive that he things pigs will fly, first.
Kula watches as Ash slowly excuses himself. She's encountered those who are apathetic and indifferent plenty of times in her life... but Ash was almost aggressively detatched from every subject the circuitous conversation touched upon. Well, except for tea. He was very much engaged in that. She watches him for a moment as he speaks to the waitress before finally turning her attention to Frei. Her internal, rigorously mentally conditioned danger sensing algorithms are ultimately completely stumped by Ash. Her conscious mind suspects that he's not dangerous to her but it might just take the right words or smile to give her that impression. Her sub-conscious NESTS-engineered side is stuck at 'WTF?' when it comes to considering Ash's threat level.
"Ash is as mysterious as I remembered." she offers Frei when it's clear that they can now speak to just each other. Frei, on the other hand, is a bit more transparent now, as he relaxes back in his chair, clearly relieved to have that exchange over with. For him, it might have felt more like intricate negociations trying to get anything out of Ash without crossing into a minefield they would both quickly come to regret.
"Well, you could ask Kyo," she says, breaking eye contact to glance to the side then, thinking back to her series of encounters with the Kusanagi scion. "That one is... probably best for you to approach on your own." She hasn't seen Kyo since she and Zero were tasked with assaulting the boy's home over two years ago. Does he know she is no longer with NESTS? Would he even care? "He's difficult, but for you, he shouldn't be dangerous." The unsaid implications that the same don't apply to her are certainly there.
"Whether he will actually /tell/ you anything..." she glances back toward Frei, offering him a bit of a shrug and a ready smile, "Aah... I don't know if he cares about anything at all enough to spend the breath explaining it..." She half closes her eyes then too. "K' isn't easy to talk to either... I don't even know where he is anymore anyway."
She focus on Frei, looking suddenly very serious. "Annnd.... don't even think about approaching Iori Yagami alone, if that thought has even occurred to you to do so. I hope that you don't need to at all. But if you /do/ decide to... please, go with me... or Adelheid... or both of us." She shudders a little, hugging her arms around herself as it staving off a chill felt only by her. Kyo... K'... Ash... Iori... "I don't know what it is about this connection that makes such difficult people to deal with!"
That final sentence actually strikes Frei rather hard, almost as if the ice-wielding former assassin had up and slapped him. But that gesture, that physical manifestation of wanting to huddle in on yourself until things start making sense, well... he's intricately familiar with THAT gesture. This might be why that, once the surprise clears, he actually adopts a much softer expression, and in fact dares to reach over and pat Kula on the arm a few times reassuringly, provided she doesn't yank herself away and/or freeze him solid on the spot, unlikely as those outcomes are. "Because being just a little bit different is a lot harder than being very different," Frei says carefully, giving Kula a smile before glancing out at the people of Paris going about their daily activities as if this conversation about the potential fate of the world wasn't going on right in front of them. Clearing his throat, he finishes his thought. "After all, if you're just flat-out weird, you don't try to fit in. But if you're just strange enough to be different, you're always reminded of just how close you come in the end. It makes people... cranky."
That's the understatement of the year. Kula mentions that Kyo is a slacker, that K' is impossible to talk to, and that negotiation with Iori Yagami is out of the question. He lacks the in-depth experience Kula has that really drives those points home, but he's met two of the three and his impression of what she says suggests it's pretty much gospel truth. He does blink a little at the idea that Kyo and Kula might not... get along... but when he does the calculus of it, that makes sense. She's the anti-clone of his clone with a power as much counter to his as to K''s. Evaluation: cats in a sack. "Well, that's alright," he says aloud. "You know, I think Kyo Kusanagi actually respects me a little bit. For, uh, whatever definition of 'respect' applies to a personality like that." He liked Frei so much he Orochinagi'ed him in an SNF. That's practically a bro hug by Kusanagi standards. "And I'm sure he's in the tournament. Tracking him down can't be THAT hard."
Standing up, Frei locks his fingers together and pushes the arc of his arms up over his head, stretching. "Ancient legends and eight-headed serpents... haaaaa, not what I was expecting to walk out of this conversation, but better than nothing. Hopefully this won't end with having to throw Kyo into the fires of Mount Doom where he was forged." Frei then laughs at his own joke, though in a low-key way, before he sighs and shakes his head. "I guess I shouldn't be cracking jokes at a time like this, but the alternative is a lot worse," Frei finishes, grimacing a little.
Turning back to the table, he forces on a smile and puts his hands on it, palm down. "Ready to... go...?" His voice suddenly trails off, however, as Frei's green-eyed gaze rakes the top of the table. Frowning, he reaches forward and pushes aside a napkin holder, before then a menu, before finally producing a very, very odd object indeed.
His hand comes back up, cupping something in his palm, which Frei shows to Kula, eyebrow raised. "Now, what do you suppose this means...?"
In his hand sits a perfectly ordinary-looking white paper origami crane. Ordinary to normal people, anyway...
Log created on 16:45:48 03/07/2011 by Frei, and last modified on 17:06:36 03/20/2011.