twiststheblade (
twiststheblade) wrote2006-06-10 01:08 am
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Angels: Act Two
from here
Yokohama.
Japan's biggest port city.
Hub of trade, export, and import.
Modern, classical, new and ancient. If a thing is new 'it was done first in Yokohama'.
It is late by the time the two bikes purr through the suburbs, heading for the heart of the financial district. Late, and the rain has stopped. The surfaces are slick with water, lights reflecting off anything and everything, a shifting kaleidoscope.
The buildings are an odd mix. Darkened office buildings, except for the odd window where a worker is up late into the night. Bars, restaurants, the odd shop, spill light and sound and smell out into the streets.
Eventually, Miho waves an arm, slows, and pulls over to the side of the road. She hops off, braces the bike, and smoothly uses her entire body-weight to lift it onto the stand. She pushes her visor up, and smiles.
"Well, this is it."
There are two buildings that stand out. One is rounded, almost like a tower, stabbing up into the night. Next to it, seperated by only a narrow alleyway, is a mirrored tower-block, curved frontage, glass elevators running up the outside of the building. It has an enourmous lobby, brightly lit, edged by small shops, and a few restaurants.
"That's the one we want," she says, pointing to the rounded building. "And this is the one I thought we could go across from."
She grins.
"Anyone for sushi?"
Yokohama.
Japan's biggest port city.
Hub of trade, export, and import.
Modern, classical, new and ancient. If a thing is new 'it was done first in Yokohama'.
It is late by the time the two bikes purr through the suburbs, heading for the heart of the financial district. Late, and the rain has stopped. The surfaces are slick with water, lights reflecting off anything and everything, a shifting kaleidoscope.
The buildings are an odd mix. Darkened office buildings, except for the odd window where a worker is up late into the night. Bars, restaurants, the odd shop, spill light and sound and smell out into the streets.
Eventually, Miho waves an arm, slows, and pulls over to the side of the road. She hops off, braces the bike, and smoothly uses her entire body-weight to lift it onto the stand. She pushes her visor up, and smiles.
"Well, this is it."
There are two buildings that stand out. One is rounded, almost like a tower, stabbing up into the night. Next to it, seperated by only a narrow alleyway, is a mirrored tower-block, curved frontage, glass elevators running up the outside of the building. It has an enourmous lobby, brightly lit, edged by small shops, and a few restaurants.
"That's the one we want," she says, pointing to the rounded building. "And this is the one I thought we could go across from."
She grins.
"Anyone for sushi?"
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"It sounds disgusting but it's really very tasty. You should try it. And if you don't like it, there's probably a Kentucky Fried around here somewhere."
Then she smiles a little more puppy-like and sidles over.
"Got some of that good drying magic for your very careful driver, who absolutely didn't mean to dump you off the back?"
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"We can manage you something familiar, I'm sure."
Hmm. Dry. That idea sounds remarkably appealing. It's just possible that there might be a touch of sidling coming from Miho too.
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She scowls at the wet pavement, tilting her head a little to see the way the reflection changes.
"So many lights," she murmurs, forgetting to keep her expression sour. Her fingers curl around each of their necks as if she's going to bang their heads together. A flickering purple light appears as she runs her hands from nape to palms, lips moving in an almost silent spell.
"Now, if you dump me off the back of the bike again, I'll shove you in a puddle myself."
She winks.
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"I think that's only fair," she says, trying to mat those unruly locks down again. "Thanks."
With a cheeky smirk, she turns her head and drops a quick peck onto Alanna's cheek. Then she steps back and looks more considerately at each of her companions in turn.
"Even if this place is a Bring Your Own Silverware deal, I think the sword and daggers might just be a little too much."
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"Thanks, Alanna." A grin. "I'll help you do the dumping."
Miho looks at Alanna's sword, and her own knives, thoughtfully. "Not really a problem. As long as none of the code words have changed, they'll let us do as we like. Although perhaps we should be inconspicuous."
She forwns. "I don't want to leave anything out here, especially not Alanna's sword." She raises an eyebrow at the redhead. "Could you make them invisible?"
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"Sadly, a sustained illusion of that nature would render me mostly useless. However, I can slip my sweater over mine in order to hide most of it. In my experience, if you act as if you have every right to be there in whatever manner you choose, people don't argue."
Not to mention that the sword might come in handy if someone tries to force feed her raw fish.
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"She's right. That will probably do."
While Alanna works to disguise her blade, she casts a glance at the gap between the tops of the two buildings, assessing distances. She seems vaguely satisfied.
"Shall we then?" she suggests when the knight is done.
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Then, heads into the building, and crosses the atrium, for one of the miniature restaurants around it's periphery.
The atrium itself is quite impressive - it eraches all of the way of upside the building, to a massive skylight, and at intervals are balconies, hanging staircases, and offices over-looking the airy space.
When they enter the restaurant, Miho has a few quiet words with a server, who glances over at a woman who seems to be the manager, nods, and seats them near the door - moving another table out of the way first. Some of the other patrons give them odd looks, but then shrug, and continue eating.
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Alanna is surprised, actually, at the delicious smells coming from the restaurant. The expectation that the entire building would smell of raw fish had prepared her for an hour of holding her shirt over her nose.
She smiles cheerfully at the server until she wonders if she should be more circumspect. Taking a seat, she notes the position of the door and turns to Miho.
Quietly, "do they know you here?"
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"And more importantly, is the ōtoro any good here?" she asks distractedly.
She's a little preoccupied with her hairthe fluffy bits are adamantly refusing to comply with her wishes. In the end she gives up and removes her backpack, then settles down at the table.
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She moves her seat slightly for a better view of the door.
"No, I shouldn't think they remember me, I haven't been here in years. What they recognised was. . . the, um, the dialect I was using. Yak-speak." She grimaces. Ugh, slang.
"And the ōtoro's pretty good, all the fish is really fresh. It has to be, they'd go under in five minutes if it wasn't."
Waving teh server over, she orders in a fast rattle of Japanese.
"A little of everything," with a grin. "And I asked for nothing that would be too 'weird' to a westerner."
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"Many thanks." Alanna grins. "Do I count as a westerner?"
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She gives her head a curious pat. There's a smile of approval at the results of Alanna's touch.
Much better.
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"I guess the two of you are even less western than I am, but for our purposes I guess so."
She watches the hair-arrangement curiously.
"Neat trick."
Quickly - sooner, in fact, than a few people who had arrived before them - the server returns, passing the hot towels, followed by a second waitress with flat plates of various titbits - a wide variety of maki- and nigiri-suchi.
Miho chuckles. "A bit of everything."
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Her eyes widen again as the server hands her a hot towel. It's like someone read her mind. Smiling blissfully, she wraps it around her hands.
The food, although unlike anything she has ever seen, fascinates her. She sees rice. Rice is good.
"I'll let you go first, I think."
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She uses her towel as well, while the waitress pours some chilled sake into her diminuitive cup. She takes a sip and surveys the food offerings. Then, without any fuss, she primes a pair of chopsticks between her fingers and plucks a seaweed-wrapped cylinder from the plate.
It's salmon and she seems to enjoy it.
She tries an oblong of rice and tuna next, which meets with even more approval.
"Why did you want to change how you look?" she asks Alanna. "I love your hair."
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Alanna watches very carefully, trying to discern if there is a trick to it. Eventually she picks up a pair of chopsticks as well, spinning them between her fingers.
"I was trying to blend in. There aren't that many violet-eyed redheads where I'm from. I just wanted to be like everybody else. Every day, I asked why I hadn't been born a boy."
She fumbles her first attempt with the chopsticks and pops a piece in her mouth with her hands.
It's really very good.
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Flipping her chopsticks in her fingers, she picks up a shred of ginger with the blunt ends, and offers it to Alanna. "Here. Try."
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Face solemn, she takes the ginger and looks at it a moment before tasting. This she recognizes.
"It's good for your stomach. Jack gave me a ginger root to chew when I get seasick."
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"Seasick, eh? How do you feel about heights?"
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"How do I feel about heights? I avoid them until I can no longer do so, and then I just don't look down."
Safety harnesses are very primitive in Tortall.
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"Would you trust us if we said you couldn't fall?"
Miho's drinking jasmine tea. It's good. And eating gyu tataki, which had been ordered with Alanna in mind, but is really good.
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"Yes," she finally replies. "I would. If I can't trust you here, who can I trust?"
She keeps trying things, appetite suddenly voracious.
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"Let's not make any overly rash promises, sweetness," she says. "I'd love for our safety to be guaranteed, but whether she falls or not is pretty much in her own hands."
The building traverse part of the plan had been sketchy at best, basically because it couldn't be properly formulated until they got up there.
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She glances around the room.
"Pas d'evant les enfants, hmm?"
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