Cherry - Novis Orbis Librarium meets Workplace Sitcom

[Toggle Names]

Description: [OOC] Cherry says, "realtime cherry reaction footage:"

Novus Orbis Librarium branch office, Metro City.

It's probably a surprisingly grand affair compared to some of outposts enjoyed in some other locales; it might have something to do with the relatively nearby presence of the United Nations building, and some kind of dick-measuring contests and what have you. Even the entrance lobby is a grand thing, with a wide open hall past various security measures, with decorative design along the interior architecture and all. Not that noisy of an affair, though.

...Though it does get much noisier when one of the large doors suddenly swings open with a loud sound that could only be caused by it very clearly getting *kicked* open. That alone is not the only reason why some of the guards present suddenly get on edge, though.

That would involve the man in a three-piece suit (black vest and short-sleeved dress shirt and all, albeit the jacket is draped over his shoulders like a cape instead of worn properly) and leather pants with a positively *wild* hair striding in without any worry. The way he's dressed isn't the noteworthy part, though.

Point of alarm #1: He has a katana with a red hand-guard slung by his belt at his side, without even the slightest bit of effort put into hiding it.

Point of alarm #2: He is casually dragging someone along with him by the ankle. Said someone is... well, very obviously unconscious *at minimum*, sporting some very obvious wounds along him, and... bound by ropes that, for some reason, appear to be red in colour. This unfortunate soul getting dragged along does also happen to be sporting dark-blue scales over his skin here and there, but that might be missed amidst everything else.

The mysterious man just casually pushes his way through the metal detectors at the entrance with enough confidence and lack of worry to leave the guards so thrown back by everything they don't even think to stop him. He doesn't even stop when said detectors very loudly go off for... well, obvious reasons.

He manages to get roughly halfway through the lobby proper, before weapons are very clearly drawn on him, and he halts, a jolly tune he was whistling on the way stopping alongside his steps.

"Whaaaaat?" The man calls out, spreading his free arm outwards with a faintly accusatory tone in his amber eyes. "WHat's with the-- oh, right, riiiiiiight." His hand immediately slaps his forehead with the same kind of annoyance that comes from someone who just realized he forgot to grab the keys to his home when leaving his workstation. "Okay, just hold on..."

A gun or two are definitely held closer at the ready by some of the officials present while the man digs through the pocket of the jacket flowing at his shoulders, coming out a second later to hold... a Librarium badge high up in the air.

"PFC Kirikawa, transferring in from Southtown!" He declares with that, with a sing-song tone brought to his kansai-accented voice that is much too jovial for the situation he has quite literally walked into. "I found a present to bring to ya'll on the way here!" And with that added comment, he gives a mighty tug to the ankle of the heavy-set man he's been dragging with him, sliding him across the floor before sending him flying a few meters forward.

And that now-freed second hand almost immediately hoists to be held up in a v-shape, while Kirikawa himself grins.



Back in the day, the port of Metro City was where European immigrants coming to the United States passed through, without fail. New visitors brimming with hopes for a new future, passing through customs, moving up and out into the country, fueling the great melting pot that is the USA.

Well that's all in the past and NOW the harbor is 30% legitimate business and 70% black market and drug trafficking instead. It's almost as if an entire strip of barely-secured waterfront industrial docks and a hefty forest of considered-abandoned warehouses with only the vaguest sketch of police oversight (many of whom are on the take anyway, thanks Mad Gear) is basically conducive to this sort of shady business.

However, the contraband that comes in is usually mundane: drugs, stolen goods, human trafficking. All of it 'bad,' but none of it 'unexpected'. It definitely says something that what's currently being herded into the warehouse where we find ourselves this very second is in a giant lead container on a push cart, and that the container itself is surrounded in faintly glowing ropes decorated with runes and binding charms. Whatever's being smuggled in here is... probably not your typical off-brand luxury watches.

This is why, as black hooded figures attempt to hurriedly get the container off the dock and into a magic circle chalked onto the warehouse floor, that a metal door on the opposite wall is not just kicked in, but kicked in SO HARD that it goes flying across the room at speed, taking out a black-robed whatsit before clanging to a stop in a heap with the poor victim.

All eyes turn to the buxom redhead in the improbable dress, holding a heavy-looking gunblade on her shoulders with one hand and presenting her phone with the other.

"If y'all want to keep your cultist shit a secret," she says, in an alto voice with notable vocal fry, "then don't post it on instagram, ya dumbfuck lunchboxes."

The black robes erupt. 'Get her!' 'It's the NOL! Run!' 'Yeah good job with the selfie, DAVE'

Somewhere in the resulting chaos, the lead container is kicked open, and the redhead looks up from beating a cultist senseless to see an honest to god minotaur looming over her like a miniature mountain.

"Ah, f--"


Well across the lobby from the scene in question, passersby of the commander's office can hear occasional, quite loud snippets of an argument going on inside: featuring prominently are statements like "Look, nobody important owns that warehouse and the fire was NOT MY FAULT" and "Oh yeah? Well YOU try wrestling an actual bull-man without breaking valuable evidence sometime!" shortly before the door to that office opens, allowing last night's redhead -- sans sword -- to emerge, turn back, and then slam it shut so hard the frame rattles. "Dick. CHRIST."

Lt. Cherry Aguirre, currently on detached duty worldwide, stomps her way toward the lobby, the heels of her shoes making very deliberate clicking sounds on the tile, until she comes upon... whatever THIS is.

"Hey, guys," the redhead says cheerily, stepping up behind the rank and file currently staring Katsuro down. Nonchalantly, a hand comes up, summoning that gunblade in a burst of light and resting it across her shoulders again. "What's going on in this thread?"

By the time Cherry makes her way into the lobby, there's... a veritable air of confusion in the air, surely. The rank and file are still on guard, but the identification the intruder has provided has replaced the immediate sense of danger with wariness and confusion instead. hushed whispers all around of people trying to figure out what the hell this guy's deal is. One of the higher-ranking people present is currently waving an underling off, to go check on some paperwork or another. Probably personnell information and transfer forms.

Katsuro Kirikawa was definitely announced beforehand as getting transferred here, for the record. The exact reason behind the transfer isn't clear, but, there are *rumors*. Wether or not the redhaired lieutenant would have been informed about any of it, though...

Either way, Cherry's arrival catches Katsuro's attention, too. He actually lets out an impressed whistle, both upon his initial regarding of her, and again when she summons the impressive weapon into her hand. "Well, you look like someone I'd actually wanna talk t--"

''What's going on in this thread?''

Okay. That throws even the notoriously wild and potentially insane Katsuro off. Visibly so. His grin fades away, and the one amber eye that's not covered by errant parts of his mane of hair blinks rapidly, before his head tips roughly fourty degrees off to one side. He's been speaking english pretty fluently so far, but right now? Right now, he slips, even if just for one word.


At least he's still holding that badge out in view while his brain fails to properly process things to actually provide any immediate answer for the lieutenant.

Okay, a lot going on here. It probably doesn't help that the only place on Cherry's person that indicates her rank is her id, which is clipped to her belt, but hardly legible at a distance without being uncomfortably close to her waistline, a situation nobody involved should attempt. Katsuro's, thankfully, doesn't require fine print; the NOL watermark/hologram is enough to give sufficient bona fides for this not to end in a hilarious but costly brawl.

Still, the guy dragged a -- and here, Cherry's eyes creep past Katsuro to his catch of the proverbial day -- repitle? fish? demon? person with a scalie fursona who took it way too far? with interest. "So, this is a..." She turns to Katsuro quizzically, but before he can elaborate, starts rattling off possibilities. "Merman? Dragon... guy?" If the victim has anything to say, he's probably not volunteering it. "Unfortunate makeup accident? Well, either way, we can't just let him bleed out on the floor of the lobby." She turns to one of the gawking functionaries. "Couple of you grab 'im and put him down in the drunk tank or something until we can sort it out?"

"Ma'am," responds a stammer-prone secretary, a tiny wiry boy with too many freckles, "we don't have a 'drunk tank'."

Swiveling her head toward him, Cherry peers close at Unfortunate Freckles. "Well then... Murphy," she says, reading his nametag in a deliberate and visible way, "..._improvise one_."

And that's how three NOL interns dragged a semi-conscious and potentially totally innocent Darkstalker (or merman or furry or something) down to the holding cells if only because it meant getting away from this woman, who probably won't hurt them, but who in her week or so in Metro has acquired A Reputation.

Turning back to Katsuro as they go, Cherry reaches up, scratches her earlobe a second, and then gives a little wave of greeting. "Right then. Hello. I'm Lieutenant Aguirre -- Cherry -- and I don't actually work here, but don't tell them that." She crosses her arms over her ample chest and gives Katsuro her full attention. "So what's your deal, Katana McGee?"

If you were hoping for an easier time conversing in English, those hopes... might be dashed.

While Cherry's considering what Katsuro declared to be the 'present' for the people at his new posting, the PFC apparently gets tired of holding up his badge. Lowering his hand down, he clips it onto his dress vest - which he probably should have done to begin with but just *neglected* it - and casually wraps his hands behind his back as he takes a few languid steps forward.

"He breathed fire at me," he offers as helpful insight for the lieutenant's guesses. "So I'm going with half-dragon. Part-dragon? Demi-dragon."

When she turns around again, she'll find him just a few steps behind her, leaned to the side so that he might peek past her at the fellow getting dragged off. But as she does, he promptly leans back again, presenting a jovial smile for the lieutenant while she introduces herself.

"Private First Class, Kiri-... oh, hmmmmm... That's right..." The man's lips purse briefly. "You guys like it the other way around, right, right... Katsuro Kirikawa." With his hands still behind him, he goes stepping along to the side first, and then, with smoothly-pivoting steps and eccentric swings of his legs, he goes turning around Cherry and stepping along her perimeter, as if though in a lazy little dance. The guy probably has difficulties with staying still. "And my deal, Aguirre-dono~..." His voice takes on a subtly sing-song tone again when he recites her name with the honorific. "Is my last boss in Southtown, and the boss here made some kinda agreement to move me here... So I said, 'cool, I always wanted to see Metro City!' and then I got going."

The truth is, PFC Kirikawa's service history is... quite erratic. He was originally moved to Southtown roughly two years ago by the request of local high-ranking officer, and put to use in some... assignments that probably aren't recorded in any easily-accessible documents. After the CO who originally pulled him in had an unfortunate incident on the field, their replacement didn't make quite the same kind of use of PFC Kirikawa, which... leads us to him eventually being handed off because they did not want to deal with him anymore. Perhaps the CO of the Metro branch lost at cards to Southtown's current CO.

"Soooo..." After a fully completed circle around Cherry, Katsuro promptly pivots on the heel of one foot in a half-circle to bring himself facing her, his hands unclasping from behind him to spread out at his sides in apparent presenting of himself. "Here I am! Oh, and that guy..." His finger turns to point down the hallway Mister Scales got pulled down. "Smelled him on my way here. Was officiating a deal with some *very* unfriendly gentlemen over some crystal laced with Darkstalker blood. Guess they were pitching it as some kinda superhuman doping hit, mm?"

His arms go reaching up and folding behind his head after that, groaning quietly behind a closed mouth while he stretches himself back and to the side in oddly feline-like manner. "Turns out he didn't wanna tell me where that stuff came from. Figured you guys might have better luck."

Tilde alert, tilde alert.

As Katsuro speaks, the redhead tracks his erratic path around her with her eyes, only turning her head or body when the angle at which he's moving makes it necessary. Thankfully, the realization that... in her head, she realizes she was about to say 'there's no threat' but that she kinda doesn't feel that, in a very meaningful way. But she doesn't anticipate the IMMEDIATE need to cut something in half, and her blade is banished back to whatever space it stores itself in when not being used.

He has a story to tell, of a fire-breathing man, a mystical crack cocaine laced with monster blood, and oh yeah, the bit where he got forcibly transferred here, a story Cherry herself knows all too well. "Fun fact," she offers, as Katsuro continues manically circling her, "but Southtown is where I'm headed. Metro is just a pit stop on my way there, as it were. I'm kind of sent where I'm needed, really, but I think my last CO in San Francisco was ready to be rid of me, for some reason."


A not-at-all-sorry-about it-looking Cherry stands in the middle of downtown, a cordon of NOL grunts keeping the thronging public at bay, possibly because an old-fashioned streetcar has what appears to be a werewolf pinned to it by an improvised spear made out of a flagpole.

"Look, I can explain."


There's more talk, about potentially questioning the scaly guy for more info, drug ring, smelled him out, etc., but the longer this conversation goes on, the longer some internal danger sense is making Cherry's brow furrow a bit and making her attempts to visually keep Katsuro in her line of sight a little more urgent. Yeah, he sounds polite and friendly and all that, but:

Tildes can be trouble.

As he finishes talking, she nods vaguely in understanding, until a few beats pass and the American tilts her head curiously and asks, in a seeming non-sequitur: "Sorry, did you say 'smelled'?"

"Hoooo, is that right?" Katsuro's hands actually clap together with this revelation. "Well, that's a shame. Well, who knows when they'll bounce me back over that way again, anyway... They don't seem to keep me in one place for very long either. Eh, what're you gonna do, huh? Southtown's a nice place, though, I think you'll like it. Although..."

He suddenly leans in closer, with one hand held to the side of his mouth, for what is to be very much a conspirational sort of whisper... and makes it obvious enough as such to anyone who might be watching from afar just from his body language alone. "Careful with the red light district. They don't like Librarians a lot there, it turns out..."

It sounds like he knows from experience.

Snapping back away from the lieutenant's personal space and standing in a regular upright posture again, he gives a curious look at her question. "Yes'm," he says simply, like it's perfectly natural. "I smelled him. It's what I do."

It's what he does, he says. The man does exude a wild quality about him, almost feral. A much more animalistic side hidden in there. If Cherry has any way to sense such a thing, though, he... doesn't really seem to be a lycanthrope, even if he gives a *lot* of the kind of vibes.

What she WANTS to say is: did you just say 'red light distinct' with sincerity in 2023?

What Cherry ACTUALLY says is punctuated by her putting her hands up, clearly on her guard: "Alright there, Hannibal, personal space."

You do not work for the Novus Orbis Librarium for any length of time and expect to be walking into an office sitcom situation where everyone is mostly normal with a couple quirks and there's a good laugh around the water cooler. Stories about the most notorious types get around and then some, and even she herself will admit that Cherry is 'normal... for the most part'.

But this kid is CRACKED. They have known each other for all of six minutes and it is obvious to her, probably to the numerous people at the periphery of her vision watching this conversation like it's a bomb that's about to go off, and almost certainly to the probably-a-dragonkin down in the holding cells waiting to be extraordinarily rendered to some mystical interrogation closet in Outer Mongolia. If this were a Looney Tunes short, she'd be drawing a little flag on his shirt with a screw, a + sign, and a baseball.

Having established that fact, her brain is now shifting into overdrive trying to figure out the hidden truth of this situation, in the context of 'yes ma'am i sniff out darkstalkers' delivered in the same tone as 'yes ma'am I'd like a vanilla cone please'. She DEFINITELY knows the NOL keeps Darkstalkers on the payroll because they hunt their own kind. Is that what this is? Secret vampire betraying his own? Werewolf who's very meticulous about shaving? Or did the NOL just pick up a serial killer, give him a sword, and point him at the supernatural community where he'd go off like some sort of smiling-too-widely claymore mine?

It occurs to Cherry that in her attempt to puzzle this out she's been quiet for a supsiciously long time, and some automatic sarcasm circuit kicks in to break the silence: "You smell out Darkstalkers? You don't happen to have a lanky stoner sidekick and an old Volkswagen touring van, do you?"

Katsuro himself appears entirely at ease with this entire conversation. He doesn't seem the least bit bothered by any suspicious looks the Lieutenant gives him, or the very reasonable reaction to his intrusion of personal space. He doesn't seem to find anything wrong with this current situation.

Which is probably just another point to add to the 'lunatic' column in the mental whiteboard of figuring out what this guy's deal is.

Although he does make that very canine-like headtilt again when Cherry makes a reference that initially seems to go over his head. "Whatever do you...?" He blinks, letting out a quiet 'ah' as some realization hits in. "Riiiight. That American show for kids, right? Do I sound like... what was it called?" He straightens up, clearing his throat as he lets out a much raspier-sounding "Scooby-dooby-do~" in an effort to make an impersonation of the infamous catchphrase. It probably sounds completely butchered with his accent, however.

"It's not that I smell out Darkstalkers specifically, though," he explains then, with the same kind of casualness as someone might explain the minutae of their given profession, while he lightly taps the side of his nose. "But I do know how to differentiate their smells. I have a *really* good nose. Even better after I got this old thing--" a pat given to the hilt of the sword at his side. "I guess it's a side effect. Or I just used tracking magic enough some stuff just... rubbed off. Who knows? Who cares, really? It's useful."

This is definitely a perfectly normal talent to have and a completely normal thing to talk about. Yup. No sirree, nothing strange here.

How would YOU react if you effectively just heard male Sadako from the ring try to say 'Scooby-dooby-doo' in a funny way?

WHAT CHERRY'S FACE IS DOING: a 'hahaha nice joke :)' smile.

WHAT IS PLAYING IN CHERRY'S HEAD: Julia Louis-Dreyfus sidelong saying 'what the fuck?' while smiling.

Part of her can't tell if this kid's whackadoodle personality is a good sign or not. After all, the CO in Southtown -- the place she's headed to -- was CLEARLY attempting to get rid of him, possibly (likely) because he's creepy, so that might be a good sign. Or, it could also mean that Cherry, whose only defense against her NUMEROUS rule skirtings and violations is that she can use a weapon nobody else can that the NOL has deep interest in, is going to have a VERY hard time with a CO that just wants her GONE.

"I mean," the redhead says, responding on autopilot, the visibly-gliding above-the-waterline swan while her active cognition is paddling furiously under the surface trying to work this shit out, "if your job is to hunt supernatural whatsits then being able to literally smell them does sound pretty useful."

MEANWHILE, THE RAPID INNER MONOLOGUE: Okay the Scooby Doo thing was a joke but if he had a tail it would be wagging right now, probably? Is that what's going on? How does a sword help you to smell? Okay that last one's unfair, I have a sword that eats magic, how much less believable is a sword that smells things. Why not? Faeries turned out to be real AND homocidal.

A brief moment as the redhead closes her eyes for a second, tilts her head, and then presses her fingertips to her temple. "Sorry about the stupid Scooby joke. I was up until 2am fighting a minotaur, and I'm young, dumb, and full of cultural references." Yes, THIS little quip is sure to go over great with Katsuro. A+ shit, Cherry.

For the benefit of the reader at home: Yes, if Katsuro had a tail it would absolutely be wagging right now, with a Wag Per Minute rate high enough to power a city block if it was wired up to a dynamo.

This image will probably only be further strengthened in Cherry's mind whenever she will inevitably find out PFC Kirikawa is referred to in certain NOL circles as 'The Bloodhound'.

"Yes!" He agrees quickly with a casual kind of nod on his part, the reply coming as easily and casually if he was being asked if his family was doing well. "It's *very* useful!"

He maintains a completely jovial smile, too, while he more or less seems to wait for the redhead to interrogate him further. But then comes the apology and the explanation delivered in the way of quipping, and...

Katsuro's eyes narrow.

He leans forward, but thankfully not as much as when she admonished him last time around. He keeps his eyes narrowed, watching her carefully for a few seconds, and then...

"You fought a minotaur?"

That narrow-eyed look turns into a positively intrigued, excited expression. Eyes sparkling like he was a kid who is about to hear a story about what it is like to pilot a giant mecha.

"Tell me about it. How strong was it? How did it fight? How did you win?"

Oh boy.


"Look," Cherry says, staring at the minotaur over the cultist who she's currently holding by the head, forcing him to swing under her reach. "It's nothing personal. There's just import controls for this stuff. There's paperwork."


"No, I DON'T know a good customs lawyer. You are so far beyond customs law it's not even funny."


A blur as Cherry brings up her knee into the cultist's jaw with a crack, sending him sprawling to the ground. "I mean yeah, I can put in a good word for you, I suppose. What's with the circle of binding and all the seals on the crate, anyway?"

"Moo... moo."

"Wait, WHAT curse--"


"Oh, fuck me, REALLY?"


The redhead shrugs. "I mean it's just a big bull in the end, it's not like he had laser eyes or a machine gun or whatever. I honestly think he was a little out of it from the long trip by boat from Greece?" A shrug, and then Lt. Aguirre says what might be the stupidest, least cautious thing she could possibly do in this situation, because she IS frankly a little bit tired: "I think they've got him in a special cell down in the basement, now that he's calmed down some."


Cherry looks down at the ripped hem of her skirt, complete with ragged and shredded lace on the flounces. "You asshat. I LIKED this skirt."


"Yeah, I BET you are. Jerk."


Now it's Cherry's turn to tilt her head. "I feel like Southtown must have had more interesting stuff. Isn't Japan bursting with, uh..." A pause as she struggles to remember, before speaking again: "yoh-kye? Pardon my accent. Like all the sorts of messed up stuff you see in anime like an umbrella with a big eye on it and a lady made entirely of hair or whatever." What do you think is going on in Japan, Cherry?!

The disappointment on Katsuro's face is easy enough to read. "Come on, really? That sounds boring..." It definitely seems like he was hoping to hear some kind of exciting story about a minotaur fight. Or maybe he wanted material to help imagine what it would be to fight one himself.

He does kind of seem like the type who enjoys using that sword he's carrying around. In the unhealthy sort of way.

Cherry's apparent ideas on what could be found in Japan bring a blank look on Katsuro's face at first. It lasts for roughly three seconds, before...


He loses his poker face completely. "O-oh, that's... that's good... Kehehehehe..." He even gives a slap to his knee. "How much anime do you watch, Aguirre-dono? Come on, don't believe everything you see in Sailor Moon." Taking a deep breath to calm himself down again, he even manages to straighten his face, before claiming, in complete deadpan:

"We do get licenses to drive Gundams at eighteen, though."

'How much anime do you watch?' Exactly none of it, which would probably explain a lot about the types of youkai she just mentioned, for starters. And now it's Cherry's turn for a joke to sail well over her head, vs. her own references veering sharply off to the side from Katsuro's comprehension. "I don't know what a gundam is, but given we're talking about Japan, I assume it's either a type of moped OR a killer robot with nuclear missiles on it," says Cherry Aguirre, cultural diplomat.

Somewhere, Edward Said is rolling in his grave.

At least they're joking back and forth seemingly harmlessly, now. The people who have been eyeing this entire scene waiting for it to turn into a bloodbath have cautiously returned to their work. Internally, Cherry is downgrading Katsuro from 'avoid with extreme prejudice' to 'smile and nod'. Sure, he seems a little TOO eager to fight things, and uses his sword to smell monsters, and has a greatly reduced apparent understanding of personal space, but that is just how things go sometimes. Her own cousin Parker is kind of the same way, without the sword smelling part.

Parker makes every family Christmas a minefield.

"Well," Cherry says, in that let's-mosey tone. "It was interesting meeting you, ah, Kirikawa-san," she says, a little haltingly, but at least she's making the attempt. "I'm sure I'll get to hear all sorts of fun stories about you once I get to Southtown." Now THAT one is almost certainly accurate, though whether or not Katsuro and Cherry are thinking of 'fun stories' in the same way is up for serious debate.

"It's pretty much that," Katsuro assures Cherry on her second guess on what a gundam is, nodding eagerly with that. Apparently any cultural faux pax she might have committed is nothing of the sort that he actually seems bothered by.

"Was real good, Aguirre-dono!" He promptly responds back to her in that overly-jovial, mildly-maniacal sing-song tone of his , quick to step to the side and around Cherry -- though the instant after he's passed her, he's spuna round to continue his path with backward steps so that he might maintain his gaze on her a moment longer. "Be seein' you around! I'll look forward to fightin' with ya one day!"

He... probably means fighting alongside with her on some mission. Probably. Maybe. It's... probably fifty-fifty on that or actually fighting *her*.

A moment more, and he's spun around all over again to merrily continue on his way down the hallway. While only his back is visible to Cherry, his nostrils flare with a purposeful intake of air -- and scent. "Now, now... WHere you hidin', you side of beef~? She said downstairs..."

Incidentally, in that very instant, the very same officer who's office Cherry had stormed out from moments earlier has a mild fit upon hearing Bloodhound Kirikawa is on the premises without any supervision and proceeds to yell at several underlings to go find him *right the hell now*.

The Metro City branch just can't catch a break.

Log created on 14:25:59 09/09/2023 by Cherry, and last modified on 20:05:12 09/09/2023.