1704/A Lizard in Whitechapel

A Lizard in Whitechapel
Date of Scene:	02 March 2015
Location:	Slum Urbania
Synopsis:	Yari and Jack have it out in a back alley.
Cast of Characters:	416, 691

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Yari Takane (691) has posed:
Slum Urbania is not the best section of town, especially at night. And 'Annie Blake', a.k.a. Yari Takane, by all appearances, is just another junkie looking for her fix as she walks down a dark, slightly foggy street in the city. She passes by the usual suspects: the poor, the homeless, nightworkers and others typically found here.

But unlike most junkies, this particular one is being left alone. Her tail concealed underneath her heavy hoodie and be-holded sweatpants, there's nevertheless an aura of danger about her that wards off even some of the larger thugs that walk by the dirty streets. Hoodie up, likey taken off of an actual junkie judging by how ratty and ill-fitting it is, her single hand clutches a duffel bag.

After navigating the twists and turns, she finds herself in front of a two-story house that looks like it's about to fall in on itself. She walks up, and knocks twice on the door. It's a point of drug sales, and more recently, one attached to hiring hitmen. Normally, Yari wouldn't end up on an assignment like this, but she needs practice with explosives and quite simply /hates/ gangsters and their ilk.

All it took was a single dead non-elite Confederate soldier, and here Yari stands as she's let into the foyar. The goods are exchanged, a package of money is taken out from her hoodie, and then she turns to leave. Faking the unstable wobble of a weak drug-user, she drops her bag without much care and leaves.

No one bothers to check it. Not when she drops it, and not five minutes later when Yari has made a retreat down a side alleyway near some warehouses.

She takes a little brass device out of her hoodie, presses the button, and a far-off KRUMP of thousands of heated flachettes tear through a vast majority of those in the building until it finally collapses, finishing off the rest. If that wasn't enough, a fire starts, slowly burning away the evidence.

The ninjette leans back, contented, as she lights up her red and black pipe with a smile.

Jack (416) has posed:
    Bringing down a building can get a lot of attention.
    None of it good.
    Though it would seem the ninja managed to accomplish her task and get off scott free... This isn't necessarily the case.
    The rattier parts of Urbania are home to some of the dregs of the Multiverse. Addicts, thieves, muggers. Killers. And the suspicious antics of a ninja- a skilled and trained professional skulking about like some simple junkie, isn't going to go unnoticed by a fellow denizen of the night.
    The shadow that had been stalking Yari was near impossible to notice, near impossible to feel. She might catch hints of being watched, being tailed. Maybe. But it's an elimination of presence so thorough and complete, the feeling is as elusive as being followed by an idle gust of wind, or perhaps her own shadow.
    It's not every day someone brings a building down. It is something to look into of course. Which might be why this elusive presence, incorporeal and intangible seems to be stalking the ninja; like fear itself, as a chill mist floats into the alley.

    Slum Urbania is not naturally a misty place, is it.

Yari Takane (691) has posed:
Despite the successful mission, Yari remains tense. That feeling of being watched, followed, perhaps even stalked filled her. Every now and then, she'd huddle a little bit. Slowly sliding down the brick wall she's acquired as a smoking place, she makes a discrete check of her magitek wristlet.

Jack's concealment manages to fool even the strange device. There's no indication of others, except for a few bums two alleyways back. The small green light fades, and she leans back. Her hoodie-covered, horned head lets out a dull 'clunk' as bone hits brick.

"Getting paranoid." She mutters to herself. Her tail wiggles just a bit, definitely tucked from its concealed position.

To someone like Jack, she'd definitely stand out; for all that she's done a good job of hiding it, she's armed. A number of knives, kunai, even a few small bombs and a gun are all hidden cleverly on her person. A baggy hoodie is good at that kind of thing.

Then she's speaking into the device. It's almost a whisper, but it could well be picked up by her stalker.

"Goat, reporting. Mission complete. Yes. None. Understood, standing by for coordinates. Glory and honor." Her voice, with its quiet, almost gentle tones, holds an edge that backs up her militaristic reporting. For now, she doesn't move, but Yari is certainly suspicious as all hell.

A glance away.

Yari shivers, fixated on the odd occurance. Mist? Here? Cautiously, she stands, every single muscle on edge. Leaning down, slowly, she'll flick a rock into the mist as she again keys up her device. Far more openly this time as she scans for readings. Something is /off/, and the ninja for all her training can't help but feel nervous. It's utterly unlike her, but being so completely stalked isn't a feeling she's used to. If she had any less discipline, she would have fled by now.

Jack (416) has posed:
    Paranoid yes. That's all it is. It can't be a problem, it's just the wind, the mist, and the chill.
    And the whisper.
    A soft, lilting voice, young and girlish, tinted with a heavy cockney accent. Not that a Garlean would know of such an accent, but it's still there, muttering in a lyrical whisper; like a child, reciting a nursery rhyme.

    "All the girls in our town,
    The Mist gives them a tizzy.
    London's orphans all cry out,
    In the Darkened City...

    Ring around the roses...
    Whitechapel's full of corpses,
    And when The Mist is swirling thick around the Thames side mud...
    The Ripper she goes out at night, looking for some blood."

    Funny... The the alley just get DINGIER?
    No, it got much worse. Ratty, dingy, yes. But the mist is now almost frigid chill, as the bricks darken to drab grey stonework, cobbles lining the alley floor, as if the slums of Urbania have become the slums of a totally different city entirely. Desolate, ghostly, unwelcoming and dark, save for the children. Ratty and torn clothes, and hungry stares, they peek from around corners, glance up from where they huddle un clusters, cold and unloved, taking solace in each other.
    And all of them staring HUNGRILY at the Au Ra in a way that is nowhere close to healthy.

Yari Takane (691) has posed:
It's the whisper that nearly causes Yari to panic. Fear, unearthly, supernatural fear creeps up her mortal spine. She's not given to panick. But as the mist grows, and the alleyway grows dirtier, she takes a step back.

Only to stop. Clawed feet scratch her own shoes. Despite the pounding of her heart as that utterly creepy rhyme seems to come across the wind itself, Yari bites her lip, hard enough to draw blood.

A long, deep breath. The terror's still there. But it's controlled. Fear-filled eyes turn, taking in the those cold, ghostly children with their ratty clothes and looks of pure hunger. The Au Ra is a scout, a ninja, a killer, and a predator She knows when she's being looked upon as prey.

Knees bend. Remaining here would be foolish, and the part of her brain that's still functioning from the terror tells her to get away. And /up/.

A glance to the nearest child. It's perhaps a deadly mistake. Her features soften despite the terror.

"...Orphans." Those soft words are full of pity, and even hate at the mere concept. These ones weren't lucky like her. No.

She could've ended up not much different than them.

"I'm sorry. You won't be finding a meal in me tonight, little ones."

With that, she'll try to run straight up a wall in a burst of motion that leaves after-images. Already a fast person, the terror and fear truly gives her wings, pushing her to flee, to find safety, to /live/. Her target? A vantage point. A rooftop, to get the lay of the land.

Jack (416) has posed:
    Hungry and misterable as they look, not one actually makes a move for Yari. But each stare is piercing. Identical faces and identical eyes- a deep and crystal icey blue. The poor wretches vary in age, from being far too young to be alone on their own, into their early teen years. If anything, the ninja's voice makes them shrink away, giving no chase as the Au Ra makes her hasty retreat, they simply remain where they are, shivering, hungry, and miserable.
    The wall is easy to scale, for a ninja, the crumbling drab brickwork presenting easy footholds for clawed feet. And indeed, once atop the squat building, it's as clear as day, this simply isn't Urbania anymore.
    A thick smog blots out the stars, choking the skies and drowning out even the moon as the facroties of industrial London churn out eye-searing pollutants and choking smoke, even at this distance. It's none too pleasant, and unwelcomingly eerie.
    That's when it happens.
    As is springing from a very living shadow, something sleek, small, and dark swings from out of nowhere, a dark figure as black as the night itself, and as fast as the devil with a spring in his heel.
    Though the moon peeks out from the clouds just enough to reveal the flickering glimmer of a black and ghastly serrated knife, the strike comes from an elbow- a sudden and brutish lariat intended to stun Yari with little pre-amble and a complete declaration of intent before the killer stalker slinks into another shadow on the roof at breakneck speed- although much more tangible now.
    Because what emerges is a small girl. Frighteningly identical to the orphans below, silver hair, deadly blue eyes. Though her face is decorated by hodgepodge of twin scars, she twirls that murderous black blade in the fingers of one hand, while the other... Plinks at a cellphone. It has a very pink protective case and strap.
    And for the record she's... Wearing a Japanese schoolgirl uniform.

Yari Takane (691) has posed:
As Yari lands from her wall-scaling, and takes in the horrible smoke-clogged skies of Whitechapel, three thoughts ocur in swift succession. This place is horrifying. This place is disgusting. How did I get here? Her mind replays the last minute, trying to find just when she'd found herself in someplace so different.

There's no signs of drugs in her systems from her own experience. No massive works of magic that would allow such a teleportation in Hydaelyn to happen. No cloaked mages to explain it all.

She doesn't get much time to ruminate, however, her hand raising to check her magitek device and maybe get enough bearings for a map. An elbow smacks her right in the collarbone, and the one-armed hoodied Au Ra lands on her back from the brutal blow. It's enough to crack bone, and the fall drives out the air from her lungs.

But it might be a testament to her training in how she tucks just a bit, moves mid-fall to lessen the blow. There's a kunai in her hand out of reflex that settles defensively just before she hits rooftop.

But what stuns her even more than the fall is the speed at which her opponent retreats. The knife falls from her grip. Physical and mental stunning has Yari staring in pure shock.

She'd just been punk'd by a schoolgirl with a pink cellphone and a knife that looks very, very dangerous.

The woman lays there for an embarrassing amount of time before she shoves herself to her feet. Yari Takane might not have much personal pride, but the shock to even her low standards brushes aside some of the shock and fear still racing up and down her spine. This girl simply shouldn't be that fast, that nonchalant with a blade, or be that /creepy/.

The lizard-woman's eyes narrow. Was this one who was causing that feeling before. One leg slips back, every muscle on edge. Some part of her tells her this one is dangerous. The other screams that she's a child. Even as Yari slips on her stoic mask, there's too many signs of conflict within, all the fear, the confusion that she's under.

Another slow breath.

"I don't know what world has someone of your age walking around a place like this..."

Rather than slipping out another knife, this time, it's a smoke bomb deftly flicked right at the girl plinking away at her phone.

Even before it explodes, assuming it does, Yari moves. She's definitely not as fast as the little girl, but the woman is no slouch. Running in an erratic pattern, ducking past a chimney, she falls into a roll that has her trying to spring right up behind Jack.

Rather than stab the girl, she'll quite simply try to grab her with the crook of her arm and haul her up in a tight grip as she slams downward with her head. A tail reaches out to try to snag her knife-hand, the appendage stronger than it looks.

All in an effort to rattle the girl's brains with those hoodie-covered horns of hers like a ram smacking another.

"But you really should not be carrying a dangerous thing like that. Please drop the knife, little one. Who are you? Where is this?"

Jack (416) has posed:
    Pipping and clicking away at the smarphone screen, for a long moment, the silver-haired girl seems to ignore the Au Ra. Not even checking if the fall had done its intended job, not even bothering to check her kill, as she sends a text off to who-knows-who about only something she could ever know. Finally she looks up though.
    Clear blue eyes, utterly innocent and childlike are what meet Yari, when her gaze flits back up, and apparent schoolgirl's only reply at first is to cock her head aside in a strangely birdlike manner.
    Of course then the ninja is on the move.
    In truth, right now, the Au Ra should probably be listening to that deeper, primal, voice- the one that says this girl- this child- exudes nothing but menace and danger. But then comes the smoke bomb. And with a PAFF it lands, the choking, blinding smoke not seeming to get much except a sigh as the girl tucks her phone away into the pocket of her skirt.
    Oh there is no doubt to the ninja's skill. Yari is fast. Strong- clearly well trained. Respectably so. And she closes the distance with a speed that would make an ordinary girl cower.
    In the ensuing chaos, Jack lets Yari grasp her. She's light. Easy enough to just haul up, but the issue in execution comes with how wiry she is. A sudden twist aside and like an eel she slides free, using the tail around her wrist as a sudden leverage as she slinks aside, head jinking and turning a full on headbutt into a graze. In the same instant Yari had gotten behind her apparent quarry, Jack counters with a vicious pull, strength that a child her size simply should not HAVE as she flicks that blade in her hand. The edge is brought horrifyingly close, serrated and unkind, it's the kind of knife that could saw through bone, and at the last second, the blade is turned in her hand. If Yari is not fast enough, the butt of the grip is what she'll feel in a simple belting across the cheek.
    "Don't be silly." Comes her reply, that soft, innocent voice speaking as if she were stating the obvious as she glances up anew. Those eyes are very different now. Crystal blue. Cold as ice. Penetrating and predatory.
    The eyes of a killer.
    A seasoned, remorseless, brutal killer.
    "We are Assassin. This is our world."

Yari Takane (691) has posed:
Her horn grazes head, her tail yanked, and Yari stumbles. The strength and skill that the little one possesses simply shouldn't be possible. For a moment, her brain cannot quite process what happened even after all of the mounting evidence and her own instincts tapping her shoulder.

That knife whips around, and leaves a hard red mark that swiftly bruises. Stumbling, catching herself, she spins around and falls to her rear in an utterly embarrasing fall.

Then her eyes meet Jack's again.

When she doesn't move this time, her own eyes hardening, there's a strange sensation of looking into what might not be a mirror, but rather a distortion of herself. Yari is a predator, a killer, but she's certainly regretted a few kills. Nowhere near this girl's level.

The ninja stands again, this time backing away as the smoke dissipates.

"...Assassin?" Questions the ninja woman. She doesn't dare look away, but there's a button press on her own device. It feeds information into her earpiece: primarily a number of errors as the device is simply clogged by the powers around her.

"For an Assassin, you are an oddity." Starts the lizard woman, playing for time. To think. To plan, as hope cracks in her heart. She's outclassed and lost. How can she win? How can she can away?

"That is twice now you've failed. No. Neglected to kill me. Child. I do not have time for games." And with that, another bomb drops from her sleeve to roll at Jack's feet even as she leaps from the rooftop back into the alleyway's below.

This time it's a flashbang, the woman abandoning stealth for a bit of sound-and-light surprise. Then she's running down London's alleyways, leaping from shadow to shadow as fast as she can as she tries to make sense of the maze she's found herself in.

Jack (416) has posed:
    Killer meets killer. Two almost equal stares that would make lesser men quail and cower. Yet as the Au Ra backpedals, Assassin does not move. Simply standing in place, a chill wind fluttering the girl's blouse as she adjusts the rounded pair of glasses on the bridge of her nose.
    "We did not fail." She replies with a chilling certainty.
    "We were not trying to kill you."
    It is a blunt and candid admission, even as she jerks her head aside, the sudden explosive brightness of the flashbang presenting an apparent opening to run down those alleys in the twisting London mire and murk. "Careful." The whisper carries. A helpful little warning, as one of the myriad phantasmal orphans suddenly sticks a leg out.
    She's making a GAME of this, every bootstep carrying in a chilling echo that only seems to get closer as she simply strolls behind.
    "We know these alleys. We grew up in them. We lived in them, ate in them, slept in them. Died in them."
    Yari has the head start. But Jack has the undeniable home field advantage as she swings around a corner, rubbing her eyes with one hand, the other lashing out with that flensing knife in a pointedly shallow swipe. A tease. "Now tell us... Why did you do that?" A curiosity in her tone, almost childish before she sighs with a resigned murmer.
    "We won't kill you." ... "But we won't let you live, either."

Yari Takane (691) has posed:
Yari's decent when knowing when someone's lieing, and to her, the admission is a smack to the face. This stone-cold killer doesn't want her dead.

In her line of work, wanting someone dead is almost a comfort. Wanting them alive means there's an agenda at work, or they want the other person to suffer. It sends enough of a chill for her legs to freeze at the right moment, sending her sprawling as an orphan sticks out a leg. Falling into a proper role, she changes routes. The orphans are avoided by way of sticking to walls. A leap, a windowsil, running along the wall...all impressive.

But they slow her down, and she's forced to duck into a slide as Jack comes around the corner. The flensing knife offers a shallow cut on her cheek, and she curses aloud as knees skin. Her sweatpants are ruined, leaving light bloodstains on them from shredded skin. The woman stands, and turns about. This time, she doesn't run.

An animal knows when it's trapped.

Instead, she settles into a defensive posture. Her hand goes up, ready to guard herself, senses open and waiting for signs of offense.

The cold killer that is Yari is frightened. Fear and stress can even get to her. The question comes. Her laugh echoes across the streets and burns into the night. It's hysterical, the laugh of one teetering on panick.

Her hand balls into a fist. It draws blood as her claws dig in, and the terror recedes.

"So it's information you want."

She smirks. It's calming, somehow.

"Even cutting out my tongue or flaying my skin will not give you the details." She starts, iron in her gaze. Her mission was just. She was right in killing those men.

"...But I can say this. They were hiring killers to slay good people. They were selling poisons, addictive poisons, to poor and desperate people. You say you /died/ here."

The whispers from earlier come to her brain. Mind racing, she starts to make connection.

"Weren't there people like that in 'Whitechapel' too?"

Yari might be scared, and utterly clinging to her mission, but she's not above using her wits to aim a psychological dagger at the 'girl' she's increasingly convinced is some sort of ghost or shade. She's heard stories of such creatures, after all.

Jack (416) has posed:
    Indeed, trapped animals are given one choice really. Fight or die. There is no running. A fact that the Assassin wordlessly hammers home once that razor edged black blade draws blood from a scaled cheek. She simply twirls the knife in her hand again, an act as idle and thoughtless as twitching her nose- which is another thing she does when the Au Ra takes on a more defensive stance, and the Servant tilts her head, when the very locale is turned on her.
    The Ripper surges forward, hand reaching out in a snap. She's going for the throat, and she does not look pleased, judging from the icy chill of her eyes. She doesn't need to use that knife right now, if she can grab the ninja. The squeeze probably isn't too pleasant.
    "You're really not scared? We can get nasty. Very. Very nasty." The Assassin notes, reversing the grip on her blade. Closer now, she has a better view of features, a sight that gets her head tilting in that odd, childishly bird-like fashion again, eyes narrowing. Though she does not say why-- if anything her face is that of an expert poker player.
    "Well. We are listening. Killing good people. Go on."

Yari Takane (691) has posed:
It might be to her credit that the snap-grab for her throat very nearly misses. That hand moves, ready to knock aside the incoming hand. In regards to pure form, Yari Takane would leave many of her unit's pugilists in envy for having just one arm left.

But against a Servant, simple skill isn't enough. A fraction of a second too late even with her performance, she's seized, and pushed against a wall.

Her features soften. Truly, she's caught. Yari could try for a counter-attack, but there's no use extending a game she's certain they both know about.

"If you weren't so honest, if you did not say what you did before, I would be a lot more scared than I am. Go on. Kill me. Get 'nasty'."

For that expert poker face, Yari Takane is going to make the horrible decision to try to call this spirit's bluff.

"Little girls should listen to their elders. I am not giving you the details. Do your worst. I have honor and a mission to uphold. It doesn't matter anyway, my mission is alread..."

Those thoughts stop. A face flashes in her mind, and she's looking through that horrible knife, through Jack. Sanary Rondel. Her dear, eccentric, only friend. Could she really afford to make her cry?

No. Not without struggling. Still thinking of her precious friend, her tail and leg snaps up alike in brutal strikes aimed for the woman's jaw. Her hand makes motions, and there's a digit pointed right at the spirit.

"...I will live for my precious friend! RAITON!" A lance of pure lightning magic streaks out, Yari aiming point-blank at Jack's face with the strike.

Jack (416) has posed:
    Truth be told. Honest to goodness truth. Jack was willing to listen. She really was, up until the sudden jolt and syrge of lightning unleashed in her face. It is sudden, a snap blast and surge that's enough to even make a Servant wince as her body jerks from the high voltge surge of sizzling voltaic energies searing through her body.
    The horror might come in the fact that she takes it standing.
    Though she does not look HAPPY about it. Skin singed, clothes burning, the distinct smell of crisped flesh and ozone hanging in the air as she wobbles briefly in place, before expending a chunk of prana to rejuvenate herself. It is a fair amount, one that will require rest when she gets home. But there is another honesty in those cold blue eyes. A far angrier and petulantly angry childish honesty that means what happens next probably shouldn't come as a surprise.
    "We were really willing to listen when you put it that way. But then you had to go and do that."
    There's a flash of that knife again. Unless the Au Ra can wiggle away, it's not going to be nice. A deep, chilling bite, and a vicious twist. Aimed to be pointedly non-fatal, but horrendously agonizing, before a wrenching withdrawal.
    "And we are probably older." Added in a snit, as the Reality Marble fades back to the wretched slums of Urbania again, taking the drab bricks, the orphans. And apparently Assassin with it, as she breaks the engagement and is already slinking for the nearest shadow.

Yari Takane (691) has posed:
Yari realizes as her fit of emotion passes just what a horrid mistake she has made. The girl was about to listen. Love and fear it seems is not her friend today. Teeth grit in frustration and terror as the little spirit grows angry. Childish anger and pettiness are perhaps the worst things she could see out of Jack right now.

Then the knife falls. Yari screams and writhes as the blade twists into soft flesh and leaves a horrid jagged gash that's both cold and constantly shooting lances of pain through her. As the reality marble fades she gasps on that cold street. Sobbing in pain and at her own weakness she hits her radio and whispers a name as she bleeds on the dirty street