Difference between revisions of "3382/Big Trouble in Little Midoriyama"

Latest revision as of 00:44, 16 December 2016

Sachi Yuukizura (881) has posed:
    The small town of Midoriyama is exactly what you would expect from a hillside town in the middle of the country: Spread-out, just enough of a population that people won't notice most visitors come and go, but small enough that rumors spread quickly. On this particular clear-sky afternoon in the midst of fall, the digital-synthesized bell tolls for the end of the day. Students prepare to scatter for their respective clubs, while a few students decide to chat as they make way to the school courtyard.

    Before she hits the lobby, she hears the whispers.

    'There's a scary person outside! Did someone call a teacher?'
    'There's something weird out there...'
    'Is that a motorcycle?'
    'Is she a foreigner?'
    'What's going on?'

    Among those leaving is a short, thin girl with dark hair and a few dyed-in streaks. As students pass, almost /all/ are watching the strange woman ont the bike. There is however, one, just one, slightly different from all the others:

    Sachi Yuukizura does not have her mouth covered to hide her whispers. She does not have a look of terror on her face, nor does she look nervous. From the stern look on her features, she looks less like the strange, klutzy, care-free student they all know her as...

    ... and more like a predator, those brown eyes with their tight band of red staying tightly focused.

THAT EVENING

    Doing her homework isn't that much of a chore. She's more or less got the school thing licked, so long as it doesn't interfere with her work. Since their induction to the multiverse and their politics, the UGN has been scrambling to try to minimize the impact-- and knowledge-- of all of these other worlds, resources stretched thinner than they have been in ages... all in preparation for the day they can drop the veil of secrecy and giving their staff able to control media blackouts and the occasional memory-wipe a well-deserved vacation.

    "Kuroda, I'm going for a walk," Sachi says, already halfway out the door. Wandering down the twisting, winding roads of the small town-- with not /that/ many people on the streets-- she is otherwise no longer in her student uniform, instead wearing her track jacket, exercise leggings, and a t-shirt, feet firmly tucked inside running shoes.

    She's dressed for a patrol-- for work. Something about that woman doesn't sit right with her, and all things being equal...

    .. she's expecting something bad to happen.

Heinkel Wolfe (Dropped) has posed:
  About twenty minutes down the road from her household, the UGN operative will find the mysterious person that her schoolmates had pointed and whispered about, idling on that same antiquated German military motorcycle, which has all sorts of concealed things strapped onto the back, over its cargo rack.

  It's difficult to say whether the figure is a man or woman, androgynous by lines, dressed in fairly unenlightening clothing. They're wearing a long black duster, dark brown-tinted sunglasses (at night? who wears that at night?), black leather gloves, and what looks like the white of a priest's collar folded neatly at the throat. The figure's hair is somewhat on the short side, ragged but not quite unkempt; the face hard lines that could be either male or female.

  There's a faint red glow, and a streamer of cigarette smoke rising steadily from the figure's head.

  "I vas starting to vonder if you vere going to come out or vhat." The voice is also androgynous, but there's just a touch to it that suggests it /might/ be female. It's also a grumbly sort of tone that seems to say, 'man, what a pain in the ass.' "You're Union, aren't you? Sachi Yuukizura, ja?"

Sachi Yuukizura (881) has posed:
    The smell hangs in the air-- she doesn't like it that much. Reminds her too much of the facility. They're definitely not Kuroda's brand, either; something that makes Sachi's nose scrunch a little. Looking in either direction at the surroundings of Midoriyama, Sachi does not answer the mystery German woman at first-- instead, she closes her eyes, nudging her glasses back up on her face. The red band in her eyes widens just slightly.

    Even the German woman can feel it, even if she isn't affected by it: A pressure in the air, weighty enough to be felt, but something that passes by like a warm summer breeze.

    Suddenly, things get more quiet. The townspeople don't even seem to notice, or stop their conversations-- they just keep a wide berth around the two, as though something were unconsciously warding them away, keeping what's going on just outside of their perception.

    "That's right, I am," Sachi says, the warmth in her tone held only at a minimum. "If you have any intent on starting trouble here, I'll have to escort you out-- one way or another."

Heinkel Wolfe (Dropped) has posed:
  The German woman can feel it, alright. Although her own eyes are not visible behind the opaque lenses, they narrow at the shift in ambient power. Her response is to exhale a plume of smoke, outwardly unbothered by the display, even as the wolf inside demands blood.

  Heinkel ignores that old, familiar baying.

  With great deliberation, she reaches for her cigarette, stooping over the side of her bike to stump it out on the ground, before grinding it under her combat boot -- a single quick, sidelong jerk of an ankle putting it out beyond any question of a doubt.

  "Gut." Good. She leans forward over the handlebars, gloved hands draped over them. "I'm from Iscariot Section XIII, a detachment of the Vatican. Union ally. Heinkel Wolfe." With some deliberation she pronounces her last name free of accent. Reaching up, she whisks off the sunglasses, to reveal eyes that are so pale blue they seem almost white; very distinctly luminous in the light of the moon. And she grins, showing teeth that are just a degree or two too sharp for normal.

  Escort? Heinkel actually throws her head back and laughs at that. "Hah! Posture all you vant, but I'm not here for trouble. I vas sent here on behalf of Iscariot. Father Anderson thinks you might be a good sometimes-ally of the Church, since your file suggests you're not half bad at killing things that go 'bump' in the night. Ve'll pay you, of course." Again, she grins, and it's just a hair less predatory-looking. "I'm too lazy to start any trouble. You know vhat kind of papervork that'd mean for me?"

Sachi Yuukizura (881) has posed:
    As the sunglasses are taken from her face, Sachi gives pause only for a moment; the color of her eyes and the shine of teeth that hit a little too close to the mark of the name of 'Wolfe' evoke memories and worries of people she's taken on in the past-- and a few of her less just and righteous allies. She's a predatory Chimera if she's ever seen one before.

    There's something a little offputting in the air-- and it isn't just the cigarette. Sachi frowns, dark ashen tresses shifting with the turn of her head. While the pose would suggest a hand on the hip, there's little of that actually shown; the tension in her legs, the straightness of her back, the fact that Heinkel is not ever once taken out of the range of her vision-- the small movements of hands far too used to combat for her age standing ready at a moment's notice.

    The motorcycle. Cigarettes. The attitude.

    "I'm not really a religious type," Sachi says, trying to play it relatively cool-- and gauging Heinkel's reactions. "Besides, I have a job already."

Heinkel Wolfe (Dropped) has posed:
  The priest seems content to lounge against the handlebars of the motorcycle, now that she's delivered her speech and offer. That vague animosity just melts away, and she even goes so far as to raise a hand to rest her cheek against the heel of a hand, elbow planted against one of the handlebar supports. Her sunglasses dangle from the other hand, reflective eyes casting back light every few breaths with the movement of her eyes; watching Sachi with a sort of relaxed interest.

  Heinkel blinks a little owlishly, watching the lines of the younger girl's body and perhaps recognising a fighter when she sees one. Tight as a coiled spring, she is, as though in defiance to Heinkel's now-relaxed posture.

  A few seconds tick by.

  "Oh." She doesn't sound disappointed at all, just accepting. "No, I'm not trying to convert you. Think of it as mercenary vork," she explains, still casual. "Bishop Maxvell already drew up a contract for you, if you vant to sign it, although it's not usual for us to actually go out of our vay to hire somevon, but... multiverse," she adds, with a shrug. "Vhat can you do? Some persistent problems of ours haf some help from beyond the varpgates, now, and it means ve're burning the midnight oil more than ve might like."

  She straightens, setting her sunglasses back onto the bridge of her nose, patting at her coat pockets and muttering to herself. "Vhere'd I put... ach, there ve go." She fishes out a slightly-crumpled paper from her pocket, and stretches over the handlebars, passing it to Sachi. "Haf a look at that; that should explain everything you need. Ve vouldn't take you from vhatever obligations you haf here, either."

  It's a pretty basic contract, basically entitling Sachi to ludicrous pay in exchange for whatever 'work' Section XIII might need her for. It's all very neat and tidy, and somewhat generic in its wording. Even travel expenses and 'business' expenses are accounted for.

  "Up to you, of course, but ve vouldn't mind somevon of your obvious skill." Heinkel gestures, faintly. "Bishop Maxvell had a look at the Union records, and I guess he vas impressed. This isn't really normal procedure. Think of it more as a side-job. Occasional bonus, ja?"

Sachi Yuukizura (881) has posed:
    If it were possible, Sachi somehow tenses /further/ as Heinkel's hands start plumbing the depths of that massive coat; half-training, half-warranted worrying. ... Or is it? The Overed doesn't sense any of the latent, lingering signs of the Renegade Virus from this woman, and other than a few stray features she seems to be entirely normal (if dangerous)?

    No-- get your shit together, Yuukizura.

    With steps softer than a cat, Sachi starts to approach, getting herself close enough to take a closer look at the contract. Adjusting her glasses with a soft touch, she starts to read the documentation at a glance-- and pausing briefly at the promise of exorbagant pay. That kind of money would pay for college tuitions. A trip overseas. The chance to study at a real culinary school.

    The chance to have those wonderful rose-colored student life days that she secretly enjoys and wants to cherish!

    Extending her hand to take the papers, Sachi tries her hardest to maintain her composure. "You should realize I can't make any decisions like this on my own. You probably should have made an appointment with my handler, Kuroda."

Heinkel Wolfe (Dropped) has posed:
  By the time Sachi takes the paper, Heinkel's gone back to lounging against the motorcycle's handlebars, chin planted firmly against the heel of her hand again while Sachi scans over the document. She's patient, apparently not minding the chill of an autumn evening, warded by her heavy coat.

  Casually, she whisks off her sunglasses, polishing them on the hem of her coat while she waits. They're replaced once more on the bridge of her nose, and those reflective eyes settle on Sachi once more.

  Handler?

  "Ja, I can understand that." Heinkel sounds amused. Yumie needs a handler; the berserker has the social grace of... well, a berserker, but this seems to be a slightly different situation. "I'll talk to him on behalf of Section XIII. Ve can't afford to pull Father Anderson or Bishop Maxvell avay from their current duties, but I've been given authority to speak for them in this."

  She looks casual still, apparently unmoved by the sorts of sums discussed on that single piece of slightly battered paper. "Vhat kind of person is Kuroda?"

Sachi Yuukizura (881) has posed:
    Sachi's attention is split; the precarious balance of a teenager's immaturity and the life-long training of a soldier that's needed to keep a tight leash on themselves for most of the years they've been alive seems to come into play more obviously than normal here. Unlike her usual daily routine, however, she is not a klutz or a menace to all of society here. She flips the page, glancing it over with those scarlet-tinged eyes.

    What kind of person is Kuroda?

    "A mastermind," she says.

    Flipping the pages back to the front, Sachi shifts her weight, arms folding and head cocking to the side. "He coordinates our branch's activities in Midoriyama, and makes sure that I stay off the radar of the locals and the police. A lot of folks around here would disapprove of a seventeen-year old superhuman fighting the occasional gjaum with their blood or investigating... worse things," the Overed says, expression relatively flat. "I keep the peace, he keeps the paperwork off me."

    He also taught her a lot about how to be a person.

Heinkel Wolfe (Dropped) has posed:
  A mastermind? That doesn't seem to be the expected answer, but it is an illuminating one. Heinkel lifts her chin from her hand, rubbing at her jaw thoughtfully. That's going to give her some food for thought, at least until she has the opportunity to meet Kuroda for herself. Privately, she wonders if it might have been better to have someone else from Section XIII handle this...

  Her expression stays carefully blank as she thinks over her Iscariot compatriots.

  ...no, better if she does this herself.

  With their blood? That draws an interested quirk of a brow, but Heinkel doesn't comment on it. "Sounds like Section XIII. Ve make sure nobody else knows vhat's going 'bump' in the night. In my vorld, anyvay. I doubt you haf a Section XIII here. Sounds like you haf this organisation instead. So, he's basically vhat Bishop Maxvell is for most of Section XIII. Handler."

  "Ja, I could talk to him." Heinkel frowns, folding her own arms, tapping them thoughtfully against her forearm. "It might be better to haf Bishop Maxvell handle this negotiation, but I think he has his hands full vit' the South American front, probably." The frown deepens. She intensely dislikes paperwork and politics, and increasingly finds herself dealing with it from a multiversal front. "Bah. Ja, I'll talk to him."

  A second or two of silence pass, and then Heinkel grins a good-natured, if slightly toothy, grin.

  "Vant a ride home?"

Sachi Yuukizura (881) has posed:
    Sachi's head tilts a little. "It's a little tougher than that to explain. The UGN is ..." The girl's head shakes, exhaling a heavy sigh. "It's big. Global."

    The South American front? Getting her own first clue from Heinkel, her eyebrow quirks in a display of curiosity, though she doesn't push on it further. Closing her eyes, Sachi gives it a moment's consideration before fishing her phone out of her pocket-- complete with a few cute mascot charms hanging from it-- and tapping out a few things and bringing it up to her ear.

    "Kuroda. I'm bringing home a guest. ... Yes. ... Yes. Right."

    The phone beeps at a squeaky pitch as she hangs up, tucking it away into her pocket. Approaching the back of the bike, the short girl's brow scrunches. "You're supposed to wear helmets in Japan."

Heinkel Wolfe (Dropped) has posed:
  "Maybe your handler can explain it better, then." Heinkel shrugs, heavy black duster rustling with the movement. "Sounds like the Vatican, though. Vorldvide branches and operations, that kind of thing. I can vork out the details vit' Kuroda, I think."

  She watches as Sachi makes her phone call, draping herself over the handlebars once more and waiting, patient as a panther in a tree. Beep, click. She straightens once the phone is hung up and slipped back into its pocket, mascots and all.

  Helmets? "Ve'll be taking the back roads," Heinkel points out. "Don't vorry, you'll be perfectly safe. Hop on and hold on tight. I don't really haf seatbelts on this thing," she adds, droll. "Just tell me vhere to turn."

  She'll at least wait for Sachi to hop aboard before she ignites the engine -- which seems quieter than many, perhaps as a result of custom work.

Sachi Yuukizura (881) has posed:
    "It's not that far," Sachi says, giving a small gesture back up the road whence she came. "Third left, then second house on the right."

    Throwing one leg high and pushing up onto the balls of her other feet, Sachi climbs onto the bike, settling herself behind Heinkel. There's an oddly wet sound for a moment's time, and should the blonde look back... Sachi is now wearing a helmet-- one that has a distinctively scarlet tone, a metallic finish, no visor, and for some reason...

    ... two cat ear-like bumps near the top.

    "Just watch the speed through here. People walk around at night."

Heinkel Wolfe (Dropped) has posed:
  Heinkel glances back to see that her passenger is situated, using the mirror on the bike's handlebar -- and staring flatly for a second after that schlorping sound -- before turning the bike on and coasting easily over to the road.

  Unlike the top-speed death chase Sachi might be expecting, Heinkel actually pulls her bike out slowly and carefully, flicks the headlight on, and rides along at what is probably a slower pace than is strictly necessary. And she might be trying not to think too hard about that helmet Sachi's wearing.

  It doesn't take long to get to the Kuroda household. Or Yuukizura household. Or whatever it's called, really. Heinkel pulls up to the house and shuts off the engine, glancing back at Sachi, as if to say, 'this is your rodeo, kid.'

Sachi Yuukizura (881) has posed:
    She's being safe, that's all! In more ways than one, no less-- as the bike gets going, Heinkel will undoubtedly feel it as they pass by that same strange wave, that subtle pressure that Sachi seemed to exert as they pass beyond the boundaries of that strange effect that sent others packing-- or at least walking around the immediate area without even really realizing it. Once they're past that line, anyone that could recognize Sachi on that bike... it would be a little awkward if the rumors started to fly.

    Hopefully nobody catches sight of the track jacket. That'll probably start a few wild rumors of it's own.

    Still, the sidewalks are sparse in the evening; Midoriyama may be a small and quiet enough town that there's people comfortable with meeting, talking, and hanging out outside all times of day. Sachi points for the simple directions back to the house, down the road and on the left, and the Just Over Yonder point with the other hand while they ride.

    The house is two stories. Not quite large enough for a full family but roomy for man and his super-soldier charge, Sachi waits until they've arrived to stop, look around cautiously, and then dismount from the bike. Opening the gate outside the low fence and heading up the short walk, her keys go into the knob and she pops the door open, signalling for Heinkel to follow.

    "Kuroda, I'm back."
    "Sachi! Great, tell your friend that we're having--"

    And then, he steps around the corner from the kitchen, where something smells... pretty good. 'Kuroda' is tall for a Japanese man, in his mid-to-late thirties. While Sachi gave the description of him being some kind of politician or mastermind, he has a fairly fit build, short hair, and the squared jaw that would put him better as an actor on one of those police dramas. He's probably had his fair share of girlfriends in the past. A pack of cigarettes stick halfway out of his shirt pocket, too.

    Dressed in a white shirt, tie, and dark trousers, the thing that probably throws it all off is the pastel blue apron with plaid patterns on it, and he is clutching a rice cooker dish roughly the size of a football stadium.

    "Oh. You didn't tell me we were having /that/ kind of guest."

    Using the toe of one shoe to pull her heel out from the sneaker, then repeating with her other foot, Sachi leaves the sneakers at the door and walks to stand astride the man, pulling off the helmet-- which then liquefies /into blood/ and seems to slither back into the skin of her hands.

    "Kuroda, this is Heinkel Wolfe. Ms. Wolfe, this is Kuroda, local branch chief of the United Guardian Network."
    "And the apron isn't my usual color."

Heinkel Wolfe (Dropped) has posed:
  Yawning and showing sharp teeth again as she vaults off the bike, Heinkel throws out the kickstand, stands it up, and then turns to wander after Sachi. Her hands are promptly stuffed into the pockets of her coat, strolling after the girl with that long, lanky stride sufficiently tall, lanky people seem to possess. There's not much awkward or even predatory about it, though; it's just a casual amble.

  She keeps her expression blank as the door opens, and it stays blank as she takes in the man named Kuroda. He looks like he could be an Iscariot operative, except for the part where he's wearing a pastel blue apron patterened in plaid.

  Heinkel Wolfe stares a split-second or two more.

  Right, then, moving right along. She glances over as Sachi removes her shoes, before grunting and stooping over to unlace her boots and leave them by the door, too. Straightening, she looks back to Kuroda, studying him. Curiously, she doesn't remove her sunglasses.

  "Heinkel Wolfe. Section XIII, Vatican. Not your vorld, but von like it, maybe." She reaches up to scratch at the back of her head, grimacing a little. "I vas sent here on orders to arrange an alliance between your organisation and Section XIII. From vhat I've heard, ve serve a similar function to yours." She shifts her weight, folding her arms, head lolling slightly to one side as she regards Kuroda thoughtfully. "Actually, more towards the point, I vas sent here to hire Miss Yuukizura on a provisional basis. Ve could use someone of her talents."

  Bonus points; she pronounces the name with not even a hitch. Helps to have someone she works with who's also Japanese!

  She grins, perhaps ignoring the slightly creepy way the blood slithers back into Sachi's hands. "Nein, nein, Frau Kuroda. I think red is your colour, ja?"

Sachi Yuukizura (881) has posed:
    Kuroda gives Heinkel something of a thoughtful look; though his eyes stay locked on the blonde German's face, something about his expression suggests that he's actually attempting to figure her out in the same sort of sizing-up manner she does with him. "Mikiya Kuroda, Midoriyama Branch Chief of the United Guardian Network. Oh, uh-- sorry about the rice."

    Turning, he strides off into the living room, setting the cooker dish down on a traditional low-set table. The TV is sizable for the apartment, and there are two game consoles (one of which specifically has a large piece of tape on it with 'KURODA' written on it) wired up to it. A sofa is set to one side, and the whole home at a glance seems to convey a small, cozy atmosphere that is not befitting someone with a title /that long/.

    "Sorry if little Sacchan was a little rude--"
    "Kuroda!!"
    "-- but she's still pretty immature, you see."
    "Kuuuuroooodaaaa..."

    Sachi grouses a bit, hucking her jacket onto the sofa and practically throwing herself into a seated position at the low table, legs folding in and starting to scoop a /lot/ of food up.

    For his part, the elder man returns to the kitchen just long enough to pick up an open can of beer. "Oh... /hire/ Sachi?" he asks, his expression almost a little lost, vacant, and maybe terrified. "That would be a little ... difficult. Sachi's the only Overed that we were able to spare for this town. Our organization is run a little thin in the last year, and the only reason we were allowed to get away with sending her to visit was due to it being a little quiet in the last few weeks."

    After a long pause and the realization he's still wearing the apron-- even after Heinkel's joke-- he turns away, slips it off and hangs the garment up on a wall peg. "I didn't realize the Vatican was in the practice of hiring people like you, either."

Heinkel Wolfe (Dropped) has posed:
  The sniper keeps her expression carefully blank, eyes following both the handler and the Overed as they go about their settling into the nightly routine of dinner. She'll stay standing near the table until she's invited to sit; arms folded, though the posture doesn't seem to be a hostile one. It just is.

  "She reminds me of a few people I've known," Heinkel tosses out, somewhat dismissively. Everyone's immature and rude at some point, and she used to be there, too, once upon a time. She doesn't have a hard time thinking of Anderson as a rude little brat on the streets of Glasgow or something, either. Yumiko, though... probably wouldn't hurt a fly. She wonders briefly if Yumie had ever manifested as a child, and then quickly decides she doesn't actually want to know that, letting it go with a shudder.

  She tilts her head slightly, but something suggests her attention's still on Kuroda, despite not taking the sunglasses off. In fact, closer inspection of them proves that there is /no/ light reaching her eyes; the design of them actually keeps her eyes completely shielded, both from light and from view.

  "Ja," she drawls. "Hire. I haf orders from Section XIII to bring in a few specialists, and Miss Yuukizura's talents match that profile. I could haf my superior talk to you, but he's terribly busy at the moment. I haf authority to speak for him. Ve'll compensate you for her time, of course, and ve von't need her for too long at a stretch."

  Shifting her weight, she looks to the kitchen, before looking back to Kuroda. "Ve can also offer help. I can't bring any of my associates vit' me, but I can offer my services to vhatever problems you haf in this place."

  There's a long pause of her own, and she finally grins, tilting her head the other way. "Vhy, Mister Kuroda. Vhat makes you think I'm anything but a priest?" The collar is given a pointed flick, but her sharp teeth suggest otherwise. The grin fades. "They aren't. Iscariot, Section XIII, is apart from the rest of the Vatican. Ve haf authority to do vhat the others can't do." She shrugs. "I vas hired a long time ago. I vas a professional assassin. Retired to a church in Brugge; Iscariot's operatives looked me up there. Been vit' them ever since. I spend most of my time at Father Anderson's orphanage vhen I'm not vorking."

  "I'm a tracker and a sniper for Section XIII, though." She grins, toothy, again. "I specialise in extremely long-range operations, so if you haf any targets that need dealing vit'... vell. Maybe I can help you ease some of that pressure, ja?"

Sachi Yuukizura (881) has posed:
    The look on Kuroda's face is pretty straightforward-- he doesn't buy the 'just a priest' thing for a second. She confirms it, too, mentioning her past as an assassin, but working at an orphanage. The man's jaw sets, expression shifting to something that is both thoughtful... and utterly unreadable.

    At times, he could rival a Neumann in terms of tactical acumen and strategy; people whose Renegade affliction could grant them the mental ability to figure out how to end a battle in thirty steps he could calculate in ten. Options that wouldn't normally be considered, he leaps for.

    Plucking an extra plate and silverware from a cabinet, Kuroda indicates to Heinkel to sit. "Admittedly, I have some reservations... while the UGN does practice in the hiring of mercenaries, the higher-ups tend to frown on using people who are assassins for their dirty work." Setting down the dish and flatware, he steps around the table, sets down his beer and sits at one side of the square table, adjacent to Sachi, sinking rather comfortably into his place.

    Dinner seems to be a beef curry. Spicy.

    Pouring water from a pitcher-- perhaps in preparation-- Kuroda continues, "Don't get me wrong, though, I'm not against a helping hand. I'm certainly open to the prospect of working more with our otherworldly allies at a time like this. Hunting and tracking would be invaluable considering the auspicious surroundings of our glorious and large town, but ... I should warn you, though, that we try to keep... a lower profile around here."

    Kuroda is also staring straight at the priest outfit as he says this.

    Sachi's head tilts, pausing in her utter slaughter of dinner to first chew, and to pull the contract papers out, setting them down before her handler. "It's been one thing to keep the Renegade under wraps, but it'll be a lot harder to keep something like 'the multiverse' quiet for the long term," she says, glancing at Heinkel. "Eventually, something is going to give."

Heinkel Wolfe (Dropped) has posed:
  Half a glance is cast to one of the chairs before Heinkel shrugs out of her coat, folding it a bit and tossing it over the back of her chair. Her gloves are shucked off and stuffed into a pocket. It makes a rattling suggestive of ammunition shells, but there aren't any tell-tale bulges in the pockets. She's also wearing two shoulder holsters, which have two very large, very heavy-caliber pistols, plated in silver, which she seems particularly careful not to touch as she shrugs out of the harness. The harness is in turn set down carefully behind the chair.

  Under that coat, which the collar seems part of, she's wearing no more than a grey halter top, and a heavy combat knife is stuck through her belt. That gets tugged off and shoved into a pocket that is very definitely too small to contain it.

  All that taken care of, Heinkel seats herself in the chair; tall and lanky as it is, she's just a smidge too tall for it, but she doesn't seem to care.

  Heinkel leans back in her chair, casual as can be, apparently unbothered. Curiously, despite all the stuff she's taken off, the sunglasses stay right where they are.

  "Actually, technically, I'm a priest." Heinkel thumbs at the collar on her coat. "And ja, I'm actually licensed. I just happen to do more than that as part of my unofficial duty. Officially, Section XIII doesn't exist. Neither does Section I through Section XII. I vas a gardener and groundskeeper vhen Iscariot hired me, und technically I still am."

  "As for me... I do more than assassination. Actually, tracking is my other specialty," Heinkel offers. "Maybe I should offer some background. My vorld is in the midst of a crisis, the same as it sounds like yours is. Ve haf cheap knockoff vampires multiplying faster than ve can keep up vit' them, and even Iscariot is hard-pressed to even track them all, let alone eradicate them. There are /real/ vampires, too, but those are fewer and further between than these veird mindless pseudo-vampires." Heinkel raises a hand, gesturing vaguely.

  Her knuckles are scarred, and her hands are callused in precisely the spots suggestive of wielding a gun for a very long time. "There are other things, too. Ghouls, zombies. They're usually brought about by the freaks -- the cheap knockoff vampires -- and they're also a nuissance. There are verevolfs, too. Lycanthropes. Stuff you'd expect to see from fairy tales or nightmares." She shrugs, casually. "It runs the gamut, but most of it vants to eat people in some capacity or another. That's vhere ve come in. There are other organisations like mine, too." Her mouth twists, distasteful. "The Protestant Church has their own group, too. Hellsing. They're... you could think of them as our rivals in Iscariot."

Heinkel Wolfe (Dropped) has posed:
  "Anyvay," she offers, lacing her fingers and resting her elbows on the table, leaning forward a bit, "My point is this. Ve haf similar problems, and I'm offering that ve can help you vit' /your/ problems. No payment necessary. Ve only vant to borrow Miss Yuukizura from time to time, and she vould be compensated for it."

  She reaches up to adjust her sunglasses. "As a Union Ally, technically I'm expected to offer help anyvay, which I vould, regardless of vhether or not ve can depend on Miss Yuukizura's help. So, if you're interested in that, use Iscariot a few times to help you out. See vhat you think later." She shrugs. "Ve're in no hurry; the freaks aren't going anyvhere, and neither is Iscariot."

  At the warning, she grins, showing those sharp teeth again. "Low profile? So do ve. Like I said... officially, the thirteen Sections of the Vatican don't exist. Each von has different duties. Section III concerns itself vit' information-gathering, and also suppression of information. If ve haf to exercise damage control, Section III is usually there to invent a public story."

  She shrugs to the potentiality of the multiverse getting out of hand. "Ve haf knowledge of that in my vorld, but it's limited. They don't know about the spooks in their own backyard. And if Section III has their vay, they von't find out about that for a long time yet. Helps us do our job quickly und quietly, ja?"

Sachi Yuukizura (881) has posed:
    Sachi and Kuroda both listen closely... though the moment that the v-word is used, the pair exchange a brief, albeit pointed, glance at each other while they eat. The information is welcome-- eagerly so, even-- and Sachi settles back a little in her seat. The way she eats is precise, efficent, and militaristic in nature... she gets that food down and plows through it like she's trying to get right back to work immediately!

    "... Maybe he got a little worried when he saw what strain I was infected with," Sachi says, glancing at Kuroda. He says nothing, instead taking a larger swig from the can of beer, letting the Overed continue. "I should probably be up front with you: I'm infected with a virus, called Renegade. It allows me to do what I do-- it should be in the Union database. As far as we know, it can't spread to other worlds, and ... people whose virus is 'active' are able to manifest abilities. And... it varies from person to person, but each of us... it all ultimately boils down to twelve strains of the virus. Sometimes someone carries two, or three."

    "I know how this is going to sound." Sachi looks up at Heinkel, straight in the eyes. "Mine is called 'Bram Stoker.' But I don't go around sucking blood or sleeping in coffins or anything like that!"

    Kuroda closes one eye, lowering the can and shifting his gaze to Heinkel. "Is that going to be a problem?"

Heinkel Wolfe (Dropped) has posed:
  The priest leans back in her chair, arms still folded over her chest as she listens to the explanations being given to her by both parties. Her head is canted slightly to one side, and in general she doesn't look too worried about the proceedings. They're talking about the very thing she's bound to hunt, but... she must be pretty laid-back.

  There's a reason why she's here and not, say, Anderson.

  "Hunh. Guess I should be up front vit' you, too. It's in the Union databases anyvay; you just might haf to dig for it, I think." Standing, Heinkel stretches -- she has a pretty impressive spread of those lanky arms, and might have made a good melee combatant, too -- before letting her arms drop and taking a few steps away.

  Turning to face them, she pulls off her sunglasses. Her eyes are closed, squinched tightly shut, and she tosses them toward her coat, where they bounce off and land on the floor. She doesn't seem to care.

  And she /changes/.

  Letting slip the shackles of the wolf isn't difficult, though sometimes reining it in can be -- but she's had years of practise, and she has established herself as the master; not the primordial thing that dwells in her hidden heart.

  It's difficult to see the transformation, it happens so quickly. One moment the woman is standing there, the next there is a very large, sand-coloured wolf sitting on the living room floor of the Yuukizura-and-Kuroda residence; bigger than any natural wolf has any right to be.

  When it opens its eyes, tilting its head and fixing both with a stare that somehow manages to be droll, its eyes are so pale a blue as to seem almost white, but the colour of it is a shade or two lighter than Heinkel's hair.

  Curiously, there's a cross-shaped burn in the fur of the chest, long healed, but scarred such that the fur's never quite grown back.

  Then the long jaws part into a lupine grin, which somehow manages to seem just a little sarcastic.

  <I've got secrets of my own.>

  There are no words spoken, and no sound made beyond a soft, low growl reverberating in the wolf's chest, but the intent is nonetheless crystal-clear.

  A brief instant later, a swirl of something dark, and Heinkel stands where she was before, absently rubbing at one arm. Her eyes are screwed shut again as she sidles toward the table, stooping to retrieve her sunglasses and pop them back on the bridge of her nose, flopping back into her chair and looking just as casual as she had before.

  "Had a bit of an accident on the job a few years ago. Iscariot vasn't sure vhat to do vit' me, at first, but I agreed to report to them regularly. I also agreed to train the thing I'd become so it vouldn't control me. And I made arrangements vit' Father Maxvell. If I ever lose control, he'll personally dispatch me." That sarcastic smile again, showing just a hint of teeth. "You haf nothing to be afraid of, though. If it didn't take me in the first year, they said I probably vouldn't efer haf a problem vit' it."

Heinkel Wolfe (Dropped) has posed:
  Her arms fold again, and she cocks her head, regarding Kuroda.

  "Nein, nein." She gives that slightly mocking grin again, showing just a hint of teeth. "It von't be a problem at all. I know Hellsing has their own pet monster, but he's a vampire, not a lycanthrope. /The/ vampire. Sir Integra keeps him on a tight leash, I'm to understand; far tighter than the leash Bishop Maxvell affords me." She shrugs. "A lycanthrope doesn't rate too high on the grand scheme of things. There's probably a verevolf or two left out there. The real thing, not just some shaggy dog like me. But I don't know vhere they are, if there are, and I never vant to run into von."

  "I keep it under my hat, so to speak. It's available in Union databases, but not too many people even in Iscariot know about it. Trade secret, you might say. Could be dangerous. Oh," she adds, grinning again. "If there's any silfer involved in a job, you're going to haf to let Miss Yuukizura handle it. Haf a bit of an allergy to it, these days."

Sachi Yuukizura (881) has posed:
    Kuroda sets his thumb and forefinger to his chin. "Real live vampires, huh. We've had stories and myths of all kinds of things in our history, but as we're slowly learning more about the Renegade, we're considering the idea that a lot of these mythological figures may have actually existed-- because of the Renegade."

    "I can't promise that the higher-ups of the UGN will want to do this over the long term. However, for now... we should be all right. I'll run the proposal by the regional chief. The Union's going to do some good things for us, I think."

    Sachi eventually nods. "Then ... I'll do what I can to help you."

Heinkel Wolfe (Dropped) has posed:
  "Real life vampires," Heinkel confirms, languidly, stretching comfortably and leaning back in her chair. If she's on her guard here, she hides it pretty well. "Vell, cheap knockoff vampires, more like, but still vampires. The real monsters are elsevhere. In fact, that vould describe Hellsing's own pretty vell. He's /the/ vampire."

  "Also," she adds, casually, "he's an arrogant bastard, but I guess that's beside the point."

  She looks thoughtful about the Renegade, frowning behind her sunglasses. "I'm not really asking for any promises; just offering my services on a provisional basis. But maybe those things exist in your vorld, ja? I don't know. Run it past your chief, and I'll keep Bishop Maxvell apprised of the situation."

  Several seconds of silence pass.

  "In the meantime, that rice smells damned good." One hand rises to tap a forefinger against the side of her nose. "Nose got better, too, so I can smell /all/ the nuances in that dish, you know; ja?"