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[princess-eschalot]

The young girl - she must have been in her preteens, what with her height and chunky, glittery fashion - was getting more and more flustered rummaging in her rucksack for a pen.

The girl (Rou, she’d said her name was Rou) had interrupted their coffee at the worst possible moment, as Bra had been delicately trying to persuade Hurachi to stick to the plan and end their faux relationship within the week.

Hurachi though had welcomed the distraction; it was becoming painfully clear the choice to eat in the square and letting the Rou over was all very deliberate.

"Oh my God I'm so sorry," said Rou, furiously blushing now, "I must have left my pencil case at after school study and--"

"Hey, don't sweat it. Babe -" he was addressing Bra, using the pet name and personality that had tested best with target markets like Rou "- you gotta have some crazy CC gadget pen, right?" Picture perfect grin, picture perfect teeth.

She always did, for her own notes. "Maybe..." Bra made a show of hunting through her purse, hoping in vain Rou would leave of her own accord, before reluctantly drawing it out of its usual spot in her notebook. "Here's one. Low tech, I'm afraid."

Within seconds Rou had torn out the back page of an exercise book and presented it with renewed excitement. "Could you make one out to Uuiku please, too? She’s my best friend and she’ll kill me otherwise..."

Bra always felt a little cheap when signing two characters (especially with Trunks’ never-ending five), so she matched the katakana with the English alphabet, too. It gave the impression she was more cultured.

Rou rocked on her toes, peering over Bra’s handiwork. “Is it true you’re a real princess?” she said.

“Yes.”

“But you don’t have a kingdom, right? Will you get one back? Because you could...”

Bra’s ‘pleased to meet you!’ now felt hollow.

“All kinds of people can do all kinds of things, hun.” She added the kisses, now robotic - and passed the page and pen to Hurachi. “We have a People and that’s more than enough for us.”

“But--”

"She’s the Princess of my heart.” Hurachi winked at Rou. “How’s that for some prime real estate?"

Bra couldn't suppress the scoff at his played earnestness. Luckily the girl's youthful lack of empathy meant she took it as a bashful giggle, and Rou cooed.

"You're so lucky to have him... But of course you do - you're amazing, too. You're like my favourite couple." Rou blushed again.

Oh, this deception had been too going well - they’d been too convincing, too meticulous. The tender way Hurachi placed his hand on Bra’s own did no more than suffocate her. She knew he’d use this moment to support his side of the hushed argument when it resumed.

The camaraderie between them had been souring, on Bra’s end at least. His and his family’s company’s numbers had been doing great, their lifestyle branding shooting up in recognition due to mere association with Bra. Investment flooded in. Bra’s own influence had supposedly grown by a humble amount which was to be expected - there really weren’t many more markets she could net without sacrificing others. And that may not have even been the relationship’s doing - the book had added another dimension to her personality, a new level of intrigue. Yes, she’d got what she wanted in some respects from this exercise. The public weren’t scared of her, and still saw her as desirable to be with or to be, but they weren’t fooled. Even Rou knew the world existed at her whim.

While she was grateful for Hurachi’s interjection, breaking that parrotable chain of thought like a vaccine to a catastrophic virus, he was ultimately doing it to serve himself and that rankled her. Bra’d definitely fared the worst in this little scheme and it hurt to admit.

“We’re glad our happiness makes you happy - right, Babe?” Hurachi squeezed Bra’s hand.

“Mm.” Bra didn’t break his fingers.

This was now dangerous. Bra ran cold at the thought of him pinning her with a public proposal right then and there, but he had sense enough not to. She could read his ki like a billboard, and there was no wrinkle of a postponed plan. Still, it felt as though he’d let the moment pass as a threat.

Bra remembered to smile and thank Rou for her compliments as she left, signatures tucked away hopefully safer than her pencil case. Within seconds Hurachi had asked for the bill to cut across potential conversation.

It was official. This relationship was not going to come to end by mutual agreement. Bra, if lucky, had mere days work out how to stick in the knife and come out spotless.

[princess-eschalot]

It's great to hear from you!

Winter was boring - that's a good thing here. Less thwarted kidnapping attempts than usual, probably scared off by the book. I've been mostly working on the summer campaigns, the capsule watch will be then - it's the one my Mom made for The Great Saiyaman, though a little sleeker. Don't try and get one, retail is so far behind what's in ki lab right now. It'll be Trunks' birthday soon and he hates a fuss so of course there'll be one! You'll be happy to know I haven't found anyone else in my old hideaway, so it's always there for you if you ever need it.

This isn't going to sound fun but maybe you should avoid those meets.

I stayed far away from direct competition, mostly my Mom's influence (hence the ballet). Both my parents knew I'd obliterate all-comers at sport but only Mom knew the level of obnoxiousness that would bring would be a bad thing, especially for whaarnshe had planned for us. I think you're sensible enough to not let it go to your head, but abilities... Slip out. Maintaining a consistent mediocre is hard - just ask Gohan, haha.

And then there's the attention. It's rich of me to say but being popular isn't all that. It's hard enough now people are finding more and more out about the real me - I can't imagine starting out with everyone knowing that. Maybe you have a thicker skin and would be ready. If you do go the Hero route, having a hidden identity, one in complete obscurity, will be so valuable for you to get some quiet. You won't be worried about ghosts from your past remembering your track times and outing you.

After all this though, I chose ballet because I thought the tutus were cute. In other words, I did it because I wanted to. If you really want to join a team for motivation or to make friends or whatever then what's most important is living your life to make yourself happy now, to give yourself something to fight for if that should ever fall on your shoulders. I hope it won't, though.

Take care, write me back when you can and happy new year!!

PS don't tell me anything you wouldn't want Pan to know. Long story. X

Sent.

Bra caught one of Chin's earlier texts and opened up the attachment again - the skyline of Satan City she'd approached ever so often from the West. This was the lens of someone new to the scene, and made it fresh again. She smiled to herself and set it as her phone background. She doubted Chin would mind.

[princess-eschalot]

Hurachi's apartment was the inverse of Bra’s home. Far too small (for someone of his social stature at least) and excessively performative in trying to be down to Earth. He'd deliberately chosen the top floor of a converted dockside warehouse in an "up-and-coming" neighbourhood, one where the locals had been chased away by money and development. Though the new residents worked hard to maintain the area’s previous “chic” through exposed iron girders and doorstop delivered "street" foods, the authenticity of this simple living fell flat to anyone paying an ounce of attention. Hurachi saw it too, but a move here was shown to be favourable to his target demographic, so he’d swallowed his pride and foregone many of his worldly comforts. Whilst the main reception room was rustic, cold, and as cramped as a kitchen-diner-den to entertain twenty could get, the solitary guest room was a different matter entirely. Luxurious, delicate, walls off-white and pale green and gold, heavy curtains drawn back with tassels, antique-yet-matching furniture probably handed down from old nobility from Central. The bathroom even had marble flooring and a bath that held its temperature for a comfortingly long time. From the little Bra remembered from a brief visit to Hurachi’s family home many years ago, this room was a mirror in miniature, and much more to his taste. He claimed this paradoxical decadance was a treat for guests, but even though this suite appeared untouched, Bra’s Saiyan nose picked up far too many traces of him here for the room to be ignored. He must have slept here often, passing on the simple futon in his own box of a room he was supposed to enjoy. Bra could sleep on the cold, wet ground if she had to - and had done - so on her visits had slyly offered a swap to give him the better rest. But no. She was his guest, he insisted, and deserved the luxury she was ‘used’ to. This evening they were pretending to have the night together - not far from the truth in that they'd eaten, Bra without a dainty care, and spent the evening in each other's company. They couldn't work - someone would spot their activity and quiz them - so instead they'd gossiped about inconsequential people and speculated on the outcome of North City’s latest resistance to total rule, all over a game of pairs (snap quickly ruled out). But the one thing they hadn't discussed, to Bra’s growing frustration, was their 'relationship’. If they were sticking to the original plan concocted all those months ago they'd be near parting ways by now. The delicate untangling needed planning to ensure they both came out image intact, feelings unequivocally mutual. Bra tried to segue into the topic after dinner, but Hurachi had skipped onto planning their next public appearance. Last week too, he was quick to move onto matching their schedules. So now Bra lay despondent on the guest room bed with her phone. Not quite ready to sleep but unable to work or play on social media, she'd finally settled on flicking through the PFN on Pan’s account to find cringey stories. They were making her feel monumentally less stupid at least. People were taking the karaoke advice to absolute heart and not just sticking to the shower. Finding the videos was worth the effort. And there, buried between threads asking banal questions and over-exaggerated updates was an off-the-cuff rant on safety aimed at near half the forum. Chin. Still alive, sheer blunt confidence intact. A weight lifted from her and she smiled. At least that plan was going well.

[princess-eschalot]

Bra was stuck. Finding the right words to tell someone their team’s work still wasn’t on track, but yet not shatter their motivation with a to-do list they had to scroll through was difficult. Doubly so when the team leader in question had a habit of pointing fingers everywhere but inward, which was becoming painfully clear was the correct direction to point. Email tone was such a headache.

A rap on the open glass door of her office snapped her from her thoughts.

Trunks swung round on the door frame, undermining the respectability his sharp suit and glasses afforded him. Through the full-length internal windows Bra spotted a few lingering glances from her team tracking Trunks in, as always.

“Do you have a moment?” he said.

“Do you?”

“Not particularly.”

Bra signed off the email and hit send - she’d finish elucidating over the phone. “Me neither. ‘Sup?”

He quietly closed the door behind him, but didn’t go as far as switching on the smartglass shades. That always drew more intrigue, anyway.

“The main reason I’m here is to ask you to prioritise the capsule watch launch strategy.”

“Which you could have put in a message, so…” she leant across her desk, chin in hands. Trunks averted his gaze, stammering a little until he’d settled on his wording.

“Do you… do you know how many students Pan’s taking on next semester?”

Well that was unexpected. She sunk back and swung in her chair, marginally disappointed he wasn’t bringing in something that warranted this pussyfooting. “One advanced class and one pot luck on the ki stream. So twelve. And still secret, supposedly.”

“Is that all?”

“Yup. She’s not taking on public ki classes until she’s finished the correspondence course. So don’t sweat, we won’t have to find internships for a jet load.”

“That’s not…” He tapped the back of his head on the thin strip of wall between glass windows, chewing over his words. “...I was thinking I might help out this year.”

His lips pursed at Bra guffaw.

“Seriously? What brought on the change of heart? Gotenks does more than you.”

“Well that’s because his only job is to show off.” Trunks shrugged. “I guess… after helping Gohan I realised I have something to teach.”

“You never had time before.”

“Huh?”

“Your excuse. Master Shadow never had time to put in an appearance.”

“Oh. Well. I guess there was an element of self-preservation there, too.” He cleared his throat, sheepish at his slip up. “Do you think I should? And that she’d give me a slot? You all said how fun it was when they’re terrible.”

So, maintaining anonymity in class even with the low risk as a Shadow /was/ why he’d never demo’d. Once a goober… Bra couldn't help smiling.

“Anything to get you to lighten up. And I'm sure she’d be excited you want to help, just ask her.” He finally made eye contact, embarrassment lifting. “You might get some grunt work, though. ‘Punch bag duty’ kind of deal.”

“That's fine. I deserve that. Thanks.” With that Trunks saluted his goodbye and opened the door, the bustle of the office beyond returning. He caught himself halfway out, leaning back round and keeping his voice low.

“By the way, have you heard anything? From the kid.”

“No.” She checked her phone from habit. “They’ve been quiet for a while, guess they’re out of range. I hope they make it on time.”

“Don’t panic. If Piccolo had really killed them he’d be hiding from you off-planet.” He flashed a sparkling grin before ducking out proper.

The thought Chin may be in mortal peril right now hadn't even crossed her mind. “Great, thanks…” she whispered to the room.

[princess-eschalot]

That’s got to be some kind of record for slowness... still so innocent...

Me singing that line was the only part Dad laughed at - mostly because Mom stopped laughing about then, too x

“I present to you an extremely cheeky song written by my brother about Vegeta to entertain Pan and Bra, when they were aged seven and six respectively, I believe. Children are sponges and Goten knew that - I don’t know what he was expecting to happen when Bra went home that afternoon but he did receive the beating of his life not long after (or at any rate, the worst I’ve ever seen from ‘friendly’-fire).”

Goten said he would only expend the effort to write this all down on one condition - that it gets presented “without all the other crap” and uncensored. Well, I did make a promise…

Gather round kith, kin (and clowns) to listen to my story   (Of a) man you know, a prince - although his line a faded glory. Sold a slave to try and save his race from demolition (He) flew to Earth for secrets worth the compromise of mission…

Keep reading

[princess-eschalot]

westcitydunderhead:

roof-guard:

“Hey.” He kept his voice low, and as close to their ear as societal propriety dictated was acceptable. “Do you have a sec? I know you know who I am. You don’t need to speak if you don’t want to.”

As well. He was going to sign, thank God - wanted to help them, even. “It’s fine, my colleague - well a teacher of mine, really, will pick them up. He has the documentation. He’s… particular in his training methods, in that Chin might be hard to contact for a while, but there’s no one better to cement in the foundations and he’ll be safe, I promise.” Pan’s family often joked about his methods, but that she was sure of.

Shinken blinked. Father, perhaps? … No, unlikely, Professor Son would have lectures– or, more likely, exams. It’s about that time of year.

“Well, then. Minami’s agreed, so I guess I’ve put this off long enough.” The signature was a little bit odd, but still legible as his name if you remembered the old name usages. “And– sorry to have been so much trouble. I realize I’m not an easy person to find.” 

In more ways than one.

He handed over the papers and then suddenly remembered something. He turned his eyes to Bra. “– Hey, as long as I’ve got your ear, my promotion was to warehousing training and route consultant. I can get my orders from basically any city, right?”

Tanfa paused and nodded. She didn’t have a problem walking and talking, or taking it at a bit of a run, or, after a brief scan showed mostly people trying to sleep, staying put in the shadows. She also matched his subdued voice; while Bra had told her she’d talked enough for one day, this was clearly something different. “go ahead.” 

What exactly Trunks could want with her, she wasn’t exactly sure, but she was willing to at least listen and file it away for later. 

Bra breathed a sigh of relief for both her and Pan. Tanfa and that Calon would have to battle through an ocean of lawyers to get to Chin now.

“You’ve been with us long enough to qualify for a transfer without reapplication. At least, that’s how it works in my team.” A horrid sensation rose in her throat, one she knew wouldn’t go away unless she did as it wanted. “As you’re not moving out of choice we can fund relocation expenses and…  I can push for you, without it being obvious. Chin should have family nearby.”

Excruciatingly, she overheard Pan’s whisper. “That’s an apology.”

They was willing to hear him out. “Thanks.” Trunks walked with them.

Now, how to make this not sound like weasel words. “I appreciate that my sister and I are seen as Capsule Corp, but all this-” he gestured to himself and the paper signing going on behind them before remembering they might not be able to see “-all this ki use and Shadowing and Saiyan… teratoidal... nonsense is seperate. Capsule Corp plays by the rules. But this today is us playing the long game. Did you attend the demo where a Shadow showed what a power level of ten or eleven felt like?” He did. In memory, at least. “We can’t face that if all our talent’s incarcerated.”

[princess-eschalot]

westcitydunderhead:

roof-guard:

BEEEEEEEEEEP-

Her phone clattered to the floor from her chest. Bra scrambled for it, cancelling Trunks’ call within moments but still too late. She felt a wave of attention turn her way. Fuck.

“For one thing, I just–” 

The sudden panic and the phone going off made him look up. And. 

And there was Bra. It was such a bad situation for him right now that he had to laugh. 

… There were times Chin Shinken wished his laugh was less creepy and stereotypically noble. Now was one of those times. It wasn’t something he had ever learned to turn off, so he’d mostly gotten around it with a hell of a poker face– but right now? Right now he really wished he had the time for voice lessons. “Okay. Okay. I guess. It’s time to face the ringtone!” 

The level of awful joke made Tanfa cringe and her stomach turn. 

“L-look, I’m. I’m glad you both let my child go.” 

Hokuto continued her flight along the through-way. … Flight as in fleeing. Not as in actual flying. She hadn’t wanted to learn to fly in West City for a number of good reasons, including her tendency to sensory overload in the presence of too many ki signatures. Even now that she’d gotten a good handle on living in the city and could place distance pretty well, as long as the signature wasn’t overwhelming, a bit too many people in the crowd made her wince and want to seek shelter. 

A few kilometers back, her father was still more than a little nervous, but even that signature was fading before the fact that there were four massive signatures now giving her at least some of their regard. 

One was Bra, and she wasn’t too too worried about Bra. Quick gut check said she was more concerned about Tanfa and Dad, which. Given how shitty Dad had been, Hokuto didn’t blame her. 

Behind even her, a similar, stranger ki signature. Blue, smelling faintly of washed lavender and with a single-track that made her wonder who it was. The fact that it was coming from the direction of the high-class part of town made her think Trunks, maybe? It wouldn’t surprise her. 

More concerning were the people ahead. The same demonic purple from before, combined with what felt like… Like a burning firework? Orange-yellow, very strong. A little like Tanfa, or maybe what Tanfa would aspire to? But what the heck kind of ki signature could that be? 

Hokuto passed a motorist on her way out. In the variable light of the through-way, with her headlights on, the driver paused in his attention as she made her way out of the city. 

Had he just seen feathers, growing out of those ears? … No, surely not. It must be some sort of new accessory. And without a helmet! How unsafe!

In a way, Bra ruefully admitted to herself, her phone sounding was neither here nor there. If she’d had let it ring off Trunks would have come anyway. Short of answering and convincing him in a very loud voice she was absolutely fine, nothing would have stopped his frantic flight over, which any sane person with ki-sense would have run from. As it stood his flight made sense in the context of her presence, and Tanfa and spooky Dad-joke-man had not run for the hills.

Spooky Dad-joke-man was claiming to be Chin’s father. There was a resemblance of sorts. Somehow this made her more angry than the idea of him being some grandiose assassin. So. He did come home from time to time to spend his wages on new suits. Peachy.

With no point hiding anymore Bra dropped over the rail, keeping her landing light. She made sure to glare at Chin’s Dad - even if he couldn’t see her it made her feel better.

Whilst an acting police officer Tanfa was now in allblacks. Rank was nullified and she had crossed a line. What steady background light there was under the overpass (plus what ki sense Tanfa should have) should be enough to highlight Bra’s wide hand signals.

You - she pointed - allblacks - she mimed plucking the fabric - quiet - a puppet hand closing. Shadows. Don’t. Talk. They do their job as a unit, don’t pick sides, save lives and move on.

Arriving as silently as one can in such a hurry Trunks broke his flight, interrupting Bra both mid-sign and thought to land between her and Tanfa, completely ignoring Tanfa in the process and squaring up against Chin’s Dad.

[Situation?] he pinged.

Idiot. He was close enough for her to grab and drag him back to face the correct people.

[Two targets. Talking. Calm.]

He had the sense to be mildly embarrassed at his assumption at least, and dropped his stance.

Still, a conversation requires two parties. Her and Trunks’ identities as Shadows had been compromised by anyone with the textbook and an ounce of sense, and she guessed Trunks hadn’t popped home for that useless beanie hat of a disguise for him. Tanfa was an unknown and should remain that way. So. As much as she loathed looking up to no good in public, it was up to her.

Bra dispelled the allblacks and readjusted her hood.

“They’re not being let go forever. Chin needs support, teaching - does Chin even know you can manipulate your ki? Why are you sneaking around?” Bra ignored Trunks’ mental interrogation.

Bra had popped back into view, and now Trunks had stuck his nose in. With a cold plunge across her body Pan remembered they hadn’t called him to explain. He was not going to be happy to be out of the loop on this, especially with the police visit. In the near-term, thankfully whatever Bra had done had worked, their target was both Tanfa- and stalker-less and heading towards them.

“So, uncle, what’s the plan?”

[princess-eschalot]

westcitydunderhead:

quarterpint:

Chin disappeared under an overpass, a perfect place for an ambush. Crap. Thankfully the streetlights casted harsh enough shadows for a Shadow to melt into. It wasn’t as close as she’d like and not in line of sight of Chin but it would have to do. 

The first thing was the burst of a capsule. Chin didn’t seem overly wary of ambush. In fact, she seemed to be entirely okay with the deathly presence approaching. Barely a whisper of ki from that one. What sort of strange killer were they? 

No, the one they were clearly more nervous and guarded about was Tanfa. Well. Not nervous, more confused. 

Tanfa herself was in allblacks as well. She’d picked a good time for it, but she was also out in the open, negating the visual surprise advantage. She dropped from the ceiling. “Chin Hokuto.” 

“… You’re a Shadow?” It was more brief surprise than a real question. 

“Naturally. … Listen. I know it was you. I can’t prove it, but…” 

“So, what. You’re here to silence me?” Funereal bells tolled in the distance while Hokuto found her voice, and then suddenly silenced in Bra’s ears. Hokuto blinked- to them, the tone changed, like the other side of the bell’s tone had become more dominant, but no less clear.

Tanfa was moving forward, now. “No, I’m not here to kill you. That’s not how this works. That’s not how any of it works.” 

“Then what are you here for?” Hokuto had one hand on the jetbike. 

“I want to know what happened. Your own words.” 

“I. I knew it was too much once it hit him but. It’s all I had.” She paused.

“You were afraid he’d stab you if you got too close?” 

Hokuto bounced her head before finally saying, “He had a knife yes, but that’s not it. It’s that– he admitted he’d done others. I couldn’t let him go. He could sense ki, was using it to pick targets, avoid cops– I had to stop him. I don’t know if anyone else could. if he’d gotten away then– I don’t want to think about how long he could evade capture. But I could also see the consciousness fading from him, the ki he’d used to keep himself barely alive, I knew– I. I had to go. I have to leave. I’m strong enough now, I can live in the wilderness until it blows over and people forget like they always do.”

In his own hiding spot, Shinken listened to the others. He didn’t need to sense ki actively anymore to know that one of the CC people was above him, nor did he have to use anything but his ears to hear Hokuto trying to defend himself to… A Shadow? … But it wasn’t about his family, it was about what he’d done. 

… Shinken slowly stripped out of his jacket and shirtsleeves, folded them, and set them aside on the embankment while he listened. It really was a shame. He liked this suit a lot. 

Tanfa was, indeed, alone then. And from both Chin’s words and the sound of her voice was wearing allblacks. /Huh./ Maybe that's where Bra knew her, from a Shadowing call out or two.

More importantly, despite knowing Chin well enough to have identified them from the event itself, Tanfa had not immediately arrested them. So she was lying to the old man, too. Chin was a super-lucky kid to have this many friends.

Bra half-considered vaulting the rail to join them, to begin to twist Tanfa's arm into letting Chin into Pan’s custody until that final ki, the looming sense of doom, played its final note and vanished completely. /Shit./ So they could suppress, too. They were alarmingly close. She couldn’t get involved then until she had no choice.

And Chin, poor Chin, spilling out their guts. Not just seeing but feeling a fading consciousness was a shock the first time, one experience Gohan hadn’t written about. But in their absorption in the conversation both Chin and Tanfa had evidently not noticed the other ki had gone missing - or worse, never picked up on it in the first place.

Bra dropped into a huddle and grabbed her phone to press it into her chest, dimming the screen as far as she could and praying the allblacks would indeed prevent her outline from lighting up. Phone records were traceable with the push of a button, but unless they knew what to look for, a forum message was not.

[princess-eschalot]

westcitydunderhead:

princess-eschalot:

“So you have no social connections to any of these new ki users?” Calon shot over his shoulder.

“Selected students are temporarily transferred here after one-on-one training, and they’re all vetted.” Like she’d harbour a random mugger. “But otherwise - no,” Bra lied.

“All right. Thank you for your time. If you think of anything else, don’t hesitate to call my number.” 

“Ma’am.” 

“What do you think?” Calon asked past the front gate.

“I think we’re not out of earshot. But if you must know, she was hiding something. Too calm.”

“Everyone’s hiding something and usually it’s stuff we don’t care about,” Calon said. “Don’t read too much into that. What about the Network?” 

Tanfa shook her head. “It’s proven… Very popular with anyone who can afford two thousand zeni and wants something to improve their lives.” 

“So why didn’t they realize it?” 

“I think they do, but just not the… Extent. I think we’re seeing the leading edge of talent and early adoption, she wasn’t lying there. But given that, I can tell you with absolute certainty what the attack was, if it was a ki attack.” 

“Oh? Enlighten me.” 

Tanfa pulled out her phone, flipped to 1.9, and showed it to him. “If it’s self-training off PFN and Groundbreaking Science, it’s Masenko.” 

“… This shit makes no sense. But I’ll believe you.” Calon handed back over the phone. “So, what, we look to see if anyone else has been firing those off?” 

Tanfa shrugged. “Unless our buddy’s stupid, he’s gone to ground. I’m not nervous about fighting him, but…” 

“You’ve gotta find him first. Welcome to being a detective, kid.” 

Bra crossed her arms and leant back against the front desk. “So, what do you think?”

Miru was watching the detective and constable leave on his monitors. “Detective’s got a great poker face. Positive he’s not a fan of yours, though.” “Not the demographic I’m aiming for anyway.” She doubted even her mother could dance around someone as world-weary as that. “If a kid appears, ask them if they’ve found my butterfly clip. Any hint of recognition and call me, get them to the family quarters.”

He blew a sigh. “I take it this is unrelated?” “Completely.”

She saluted him as she turned to leave, though the old man was still chewing.

“You care.”

“It’s my job to. Can’t have the company--”

“No,” Bra stopped at the force of his word. “I’d play you at poker all day long if I could. Little Miss Giggles surfaced towards the end there and she’s in full force now.”

Her hand went to her face, pulling back as though finding blood. She hadn’t otherwise felt the tension in the growing scowl, but that knot between her brows had definitely surfaced. She rocked her jaw to ease the cramp.

“Not as self-interested as she plays at, eh?” He flashed a perfect Grampa smile. “Luckiest kid in the world to have Giggles on their side.”

“Not so lucky to have met me in the first place.” She took a breath and tried a polite smile back. “Let’s hope Giggles can make the best of this.”

Far enough away to give Miru plausible deniability, Bra cut to the inevitable, using the red line to call the one person who might be able to save all their asses.

One ring before Pan picked up. Bra cut across her anxious sleepy noises - they really needed an amber line to save the heart attacks.

“Not the end of the world, but still an emergency. Read your messages. Can you get here?”

Pan groaned again, but in acquience. “I hate you. What’s the weather?”

[princess-eschalot]

westcitydunderhead:

princess-eschalot:

That was true, sadly. Bra said the next through gritted teeth, knowing it would both call the Interns - the newer Shadows for the moment to everyone else - into question and close the circle around Chin if they decided to trawl the PFN, and there was nothing she could do about it. “Months to a few years training, depending on aptitude. Not everyone will get that far.”

There was a brief– brief– leak of relief when Tanfa heard the tack Bra was taking. Her expression was stony as ever, and she still wasn’t talking, but… if it weren’t through ki sense, it could have been a trick of the light. Or worse, a kind of zanzouken. Was this a trap? 

Calon noted the last few things in the notebook. “Well, thank you, you’ve been very helpful.” 

He closed the book, and turned to leave– and then– “One more thing– I learned something interesting going through the victim’s bank records. Apparently he’d signed up for the Pan Fighting Network within the time frame you mentioned. It’s a very interesting fact, considering he’d managed to evade capture for several weeks without ever leaving town.” 

Tanfa blinked. This time the surprise was full and genuine. 

Oh no... Bra once jibed that the behavioural contract all new PFN members had to sign was little more than a checkbox to say "I pwomise I'll be good"; that even if it absolved Pan, Gohan and Mr. Satan of responsibility in the eyes of the law the public would have other ideas. Pan and Gohan in particular may be the type to have their hands bound by good behaviour rules like that, but not everyone gave a rat's ass. There would always be bad guys in the arms race. Though not even Bra had envisioned so soon. Pan hadn't even stationed Heroes in each city to officially deal with the inevitable. Bra couldn't be sure, but she swore Tanfa pricked up at recognition of the PFN. "I wouldn't know anything about that," she answered as cooly as she could, "I visit, sure. But I don't know the specifics of management or who your patient and pusher might be on there, or what drama they’re involved in." She tried to head something off. "Lots of users are getting ahead of the released training against advice, and not everyone posts their progress publicly. You'd have to ask Pan for information on the troublemakers at any rate."That might throw him off.

“So you have no social connections to any of these new ki users?” Calon shot over his shoulder.

“Selected students are temporarily transferred here after one-on-one training, and they’re all vetted.” Like she’d harbour a random mugger. “But otherwise - no,” Bra lied.

[princess-eschalot]

westcitydunderhead:

princess-eschalot:

“What happened to them, exactly?” Bra made sure to ask, but the creeping cold up her spine was telling her she had a hunch already. Her phone felt heavy in her pocket.

“Inquiries are continuing,” Calon said, switching out the picture for another of two hundred-zeni coins and a large switchblade. “However. We do know that they were launched from a nearby alley at sufficient speed to cause this. There’s no explosive residue, and a knife with his fingerprints is in the middle of the alley. Even at a conservative guess, he was pushed some 60 meters before picking up his cab.” 

Calon glanced at Tanfa before looking back at Bra. “Does that sound familiar to you?” 

Bra handed back the picture of the knife and the two hundred zeni. “You think it was a ki attack?” 

Tanfa considered Bra’s responses. She was calm, but that didn’t mean things one way or the other. As for Tanfa herself… She didn’t think this was the best way to follow the lead, but as far as figuring out the weapon went, there weren’t that many leads to take.

“I’m not sure about anything. That’s why inquiries are continuing,” Calon said with a shrug. “But something happened in that alley, and any insight you could give us as an expert witness regarding ki use or engineering would be very helpful, since we don’t have much on our own.” 

The presence of acting constable Tanfa could be a coincidence, but it probably belied their suspicions as to which of the two it was. As much as she loathed to let the public know her exact capabilities, Bra didn't quite fancy getting charged with blatantly wasting police time. There'd be no harm in letting them know. She doubted she could incriminate Chin quite this early.

"We don't have portable tech that could do that." None unaccounted for or ki free, at any rate. "It wouldn't be too difficult to do that with ki, as long as you were strong in some basics." Bra toyed with saying it could be accidental, from someone who didn't know their capability, but the idea of ‘psychics’ with uncontrollable powers was the stuff of horror movies and almost worse than someone deliberately using force. She compromised. "If there was a knife they could have been surprised and acting on instinct in defence. They'd not necessarily want to hurt someone. Just push them away." But that was a lie, the profile said they'd charged the ki, it was directional, not some exploded barrier in all directions like she'd default to. And still Tanfa was quiet.

"So this wouldn't have needed to be a master user?" Calun raised an eyebrow.

Oh. No wonder the line of questioning. "Like me or my brother? No."

"Any guess as to a skill level? Not every beginner could do that on their first day."

That was true, sadly. Bra said the next through gritted teeth, knowing it would both call the Interns - the newer Shadows for the moment to everyone else - into question and close the circle around Chin if they decided to trawl the PFN, and there was nothing she could do about it. "Months to a few years training, depending on aptitude. Not everyone will get that far."

[princess-eschalot]

westcitydunderhead:

princess-eschalot:

[txt] I heard. All the time! Getting some distance is always good <3 x

[txt] Hard to explain in text. I have a friend who practically runs a class, though. Seeing if I can hook you up x

[txt] Did you want to meet

Bzzt!

A call before she could send the last, front desk.

“Hey, you on the dull shift tonight, Miru?”

“Evening Ma’am,” came a formal reply, “apologies for the disturbance but are you in the main building? There’s a Detective Sergeant asking for your assistance.”

While she waited, she leaned against a fence and checked her phone. Where even was she? 

… A dozen or so kilometers from CC. A good distance, at least as far as she was concerned. Eventually she’d have to get closer to go home, but for now she wanted to catch her breath and think. 

… It was ten kilometers to the edge of town, up the highway. She didn’t know how long the hinterlands went, but surely, at some point, she could turn north and not really look back. 

Maybe texting Bra was a mistake, but since it was so vague and distant– even if Bra knew where she was via phone GPS, she was too far from the scene to be connected. She hoped. 

Eventually two texts came back. … … Man, West City really was a violent town for martial artists. 

She resolved to keep hidden and moved along the stone fences that hid tall, walled-off buildings, like ridiculous copies of the King’s Castle. The sky was beginning to cloud over. 

… Maybe– maybe she could trust Bra. But if she couldn’t… 

The ‘Detective Sergeant’ was a man, a little old, with a slight paunch and a long beige coat, wearing plainclothes and a badge. He was a little irritated, but nothing out of the ordinary for police working with Heroes or Shadows. “Thank you for taking the time to meet with us. I know you’re very busy. I’m Detective Sergeant Calon, and this is my partner, Acting Constable Tanfa.” 

The real prize, however, was the woman with him, Acting Constable Tanfa. An adult– a little taller than Calon– or did she just stand straighter?– she wore a slightly modified police uniform. Or, perhaps more likely, she’d flexed, or done a bad push, and the sleeves had exploded from long to short.

She fair to roiled with ki, at least compared to a normal person, and she seemed utterly at ease with Bra being there. “Ma’am.” 

She’d seen Bra before, actually– glimpses while working directly under Pan– but never much longer than it took for that exact sort of acknowledgement. Among fighters and martial artists, she didn’t particularly stand out, except in practiced dedication.

“We wanted to talk with you about an incident earlier this afternoon…” 

At that Bra snapped to the unsent message in her pocket. Was this related? Is this why Chin was making such grand assumptions about her understanding? Either way she was glad she hadn’t asked them to come.

The Detective Serge was not happy to be here either, that much was clear. Anyone with an ounce of sense knew not to get mixed up with her and the other power families. Miru himself was living proof of that - one too many leads on her father had turned the officer into part security, part scarecrow. As well-compensated as he was in both money and answers to his questions, the weight of NDAs had surely crushed his ambition. Bra loved the old man and knew he adore her, her brother and his family, but she'd never had the courage to ask what the alternative to this job was. She knew Hurachi’s had killed those with too much info before, even if he wouldn't admit it. Her family wouldn’t stoop so low, but not everyone knew that.

Yet the grizzled man with too much coat for the current fashion had not been deterred by the ghost of his brother behind her, and plowed on.

“You may have heard K-way South was closed for a time due to an incident. A wanted man was apprehended in the process.”

“I saw the headline but only a few minutes ago. I’ve been rushed off my feet all day.”

“‘All day.’ Here?”

She nodded with helpful enthusiasm, pushing her wide-eyed socialite persona. Calon jotted something down on a tiny flipbook procured from the depths of his coat. An intimidation tactic if she’d ever seen one. Was she being questioned?

“And where is Mr. Trunks?” She was.

“In town. Mr. Miru here can bring up his schedule if you’d like, though I’m sure he’d appreciate a call before you bust into his cocktails.”

He wasn’t amused, mouth a thin line. Fine. Again from his inner pocket he took stack of polaroids. He spread the snaps like a hand of cards and reading his prompt Bra took her pick. Like any magic trick worth its salt, she knew whatever she selected would lead to the same conclusion.

A car, Capsule Corp in make unfortunately, completely caved in on one side, metal gnarled into near-unrecognisability. Even the safety coating couldn’t save a fraction of the windshield from the impact, glass everywhere like an exploded bag of flour. From witnessing vehicle testing (and heck even participating a few times) she knew, proudly, a blow out like that was not easy to achieve. Bra hoped it was parked and the driver miles away. “The bike must have been going way beyond anything it should... Are you suggesting our vehicle was somehow responsible?” She pouted, feigning hurt. “Surely not…”

“Why do you say a bike?”

“A one-person vehicle then. It’s a deep hole, not wide from a truck.”

“Hm. Not a bike, or truck.” Frustratingly, the detective left no clues as to his intention. Even his ki was a wall. He plucked the photo from her hand and replaced it with another. ”It was our wanted man.”

Someone in a hospital bed. Her stomach knotted then. Chin? But through the mess of IV lines, bruising, oxygen mask and dried blood it was pretty clear they weren’t a child, and they were in no state to use a phone. She didn’t recognise them either. Still, Bra was uneasy. They should be mush - unless they were protecting themselves. Unless they knew how to use ki...

Her eyes drifted up towards the short-sleeved woman reexamining the photo to refresh her own memory. She hadn’t chimed in yet, but had a quiet confidence about her. And no doubt why, considering her power level bubbling away. This acting constable was definitely known to Bra - isolated images flashed through her mind but as she tried to dig further, the memories stuttered before evaporating. Pan’s junk memories, then. Was she a student? How good was she at reading ki? Bra settled herself into a calm - she may have to lie and had a feeling not just her skin would be riding on her not being caught out.

“What happened to them, exactly?” Bra made sure to ask, but the creeping cold up her spine was telling her she had a hunch already. Her phone felt heavy in her pocket.

[princess-eschalot]

westcitydunderhead:

princess-eschalot:

Waking Pan to ask her for Chin’s address would be tantamount to admitting she was worried, that this was unforeseen. Still, the solution was simple - get Pan to agree Chin needed guidance and fast through a visit - then sweet-talk the mother, and that could be done this evening or tomorrow. She thought about messaging them through their blog to ask in advance, but that might scare them more.

Pan woke at eight Bra’s time. More than enough time to craft the message to her.

It’s 6 pm. No further information, except on the capture of a mugger, and traffic reports of a blocked lane near the bad side of town, use the L-way. 

Her hands are shaking. It’s not ki-exhaustion, it’s something else. 

As much as she wants to say she’s experienced with being on the bad side of the law, the fact is, she’s never done anything quite on this level of destruction and… 

And maybe she was evil. Maybe there was something in her that was. Awful. Maybe that was why she could do these things so easily. She thought back to when she’d launched that Masenko. It had been. Simple. Freeing. to channel all her anger. All of it. From her dad, her mom, her shitty circumstances, her needing to hide everything about her– All of it, all of it surging, pumping through her veins and breath and hands. It was… 

A rush. An enticing one. 

At least most people couldn’t see her up here in the dark– for a city that had had multiple fights above its skies, West City kept a surprisingly small amount of light on its rooftops in the evenings. 

She looked at the phone in her hand. At the card that was in her back pocket from weeks ago. 

She. She could message Bra. She could. 

But that had been one meeting. One! Over a month ago! She’d probably forgot all about it. 

And if the police were looking for ki-users… Bra, Trunks, the Interns, Heroes and their Liasons– the official channels were the first places they’d go. 

Would Bra really lie for her? A secret that someone doesn’t know is the best kind. 

… And anything she’d say along the lines of ‘don’t contact me’ would be a tacit admission she’d done something wrong. 

So she sat on the rooftop of a tall apartment building next to the L-way, with shaking hands, and tried to come to a decision. 

One moment had made such a mess already. But… He’d been armed. Chin wasn’t. The. The obvious response, she was sure, was basically what she’d done. 

… But she’d done it with all her force and fury. She thought she’d have to. 

She started writing a text. Blanked it out. Started again. Blanked it out. 

She’d expected it to be like– like throwing one of her rocks– hard, sure, deadly, maybe, but not spectacular. Instead, it rocketed out and wrecked a car and God knows what it did to the mugger. 

Someone was surely coming soon. She slid down the side of the building and landed in the grass around it. 

Was home even an option? 

… Was it even home? 

She started writing a text. Blanked it out. Started again. blanked it out. Started again. 

… … It was probably laughably transparent. But it was better than her first thought, and much more possibly innocent than anything else she could send regarding this. 

…. her thumb hovered over the send, she grimaced, and locked the screen instead. 

She couldn’t get anyone else in trouble. Even one of the most powerful people in West City. She’d go do her forgotten coursework, for now. There were still places open. If she could afford 500 zeni, somehow… 

… … What’s one more crime…? No. No, no no no that’s stupid stupid stupid. 

Even 320 would get her a coffee… 

!WARN! 

She turned and– She sighed. “Look. Look, I don’t want any trouble. All I got’s 200, you don’t want me, ok? I won’t rat on you, and I wasn’t here.” 

The three of them pounded hands into fists and she looked at the street she was on. 

… Yuppies. Probably feeling their oats. It turned her stomach. Of course. I’m de facto homeless. They think they can get away with it. 

… I could take them. Easily. Teach them a lesson. 

… … But… 

Instead, she ran. Ran as fast as a car, up a slope and away. 

The drunken yuppies saw what she’d done and weren’t sure what to make of it, but resolved that they’d probably had too much to drink for tonight. 

… Chin pulled out her phone. deleted her message. Started again. 

[txt] just met three drunk yuppies deciding they were hot shit, booked it [txt] does this happen all the time? How do you deal with it?

Perfect. 

The problem with replying to work emails on Sunday as the top boss was others felt the need to respond to impress. No matter the size of the capital letters saying “FOR TOMORROW” smarmy suckasses would jump to it. One person even offered to come in from the suburbs to go over proofs. Bra had to snatch moments of a real life as they flitted by in ten minute snippets, and one way she sated the need to scream was to live vicariously through others during their retellings of stress-free, ignorant fun. But if they too were staring at their email inbox… Bra checked her phone. No message from Pan yet.

She /could/ fire the next one to reply, Bra toyed, and then next one, and see if they noticed the pattern before their own heads rolled. As if on cue an email pinged through. No such luck though, a catering vendor. Although, if CC decided to branch out here and then took over the company --

BEEEEEEEEEEP!

An almighty racket came from her phone, with an identical one a few moments later. She hadn’t heard it for a long while. Is that uncouth thing still the default for unknowns? And why-- Chin.

[txt] just met three drunk yuppies deciding they were hot shit, booked it

[txt] does this happen all the time? How do you deal with it?

...What? Well, yeah it did, particularly from the sons of Important People but… does ‘this’ happen… unless they were coming to her for advice on grown men flirting which sadly wouldn’t be out of the realms of possibility they were talking about today. As though she obviously knew what they were talking about.

A frantic scan of the news didn’t bring up anything spectacular. She didn’t think Chin was the type to buy into the Capsule Corp’s all seeing eye - they would have been a little more twitchy at her appearance. So maybe...

[txt] I heard. All the time! Getting some distance is always good <3 x

[txt] Hard to explain in text. I have a friend who practically runs a class, though. Seeing if I can hook you up x

[txt] Did you want to meet

Bzzt!

A call before she could send the last, front desk.

“Hey, you on the dull shift tonight, Miru?”

“Evening Ma’am,” came a formal reply, “apologies for the disturbance but are you in the main building? There’s a Detective Sergeant asking for your assistance.”

[princess-eschalot]

westcitydunderhead:

So. To start with. Don’t panic, but don’t relax. Chin slowly made sure that the few clothes they had were packed into their backpack, filling out the lower layers. You’re never around your mom anyway, so it’s not like anyone’s going to find that unusual, but if you vanish from school tomorrow, everyone will figure out why in short order.

They were fairly sure that the mugger was either dead or in hospital. The fact that his face hadn’t shown up on the news yet meant either a media freeze, or that the only person who could positively identify Chin Hokuto as the perpetrator was currently unconscious and in hospital. 

All to the good. They had had a couple of capsules already, which Hokuto had snatched. They were likely reported as stolen, which meant Hokuto would have to be careful. 

… Flying was right out. If their searchers were as good at ki sensing as Hokuto was, Hokuto was done as soon as they got airborne. The city itself, for now, was Hokuto’s camouflage. Chin wasn’t sure how powerful they were, exactly, but they weren’t so powerful that it was easy to pick them out of a crowd at a distance. Which meant that as long as Hokuto stuck to crowds, at least until they were ready to make a break, it was possible. 

Possible. but not likely. The three capsules were stowed at the bottom of her backpack. 

For a moment, she considered leaving the rocks and the ankle weights in the bottom with the Self-Improvement Club, but that was tantamount to an admission– and they knew a Hero, or an aspiring Hero. 

No, that wasn’t true, they knew a Detective. Probably the most powerful detective to ever try and sign up for the West City Police, maybe even a Shadow or a Crimefighter, but absolutely trying to be a Detective. 

If no one started watching. If if if… 

But if no one cared Hokuto could probably get away after class tomorrow. 

…. … But would Hokuto have enough time? 

… … She didn’t know anything about her assailant, or how powerful they might really be. She’d have to look and see if tomorrow there was anyone hovering over the school– a daunting prospect given how far she was and how fast she usually traveled to school these days. 

Maybe the capsules themselves would be a hint. There were empty capsule lots not far from here. No one watched the places all the time, especially when you could literally press a button and leave. 

… A jetbike. An honest to Heaven jetbike, and a capsule house. 

Hokuto had expected, of course, some interest. She hadn’t expected a six minute chat with a ‘new neighbor’ who seemed a little interested in her. 

“So, you’re thinking of renting here?” 

“Ah– yeah.” 

“What’s yer name?” 

“Uh– Hito. Hito Nezumi.” 

“Huh. That’s a funny name for someone who isn’t. You know, a rat.” 

“Yeah, well. My parents didn’t like me much. Fifth kid of five, not exactly welcome.” 

The new neighbor nodded sombrely. “Yeah. Well, if you decide you like the place, come back ‘round, okay?” 

“I’ll be sure to!” Glad to disengage from someone so unexpectedly talkative in West City, Hokuto found herself quietly labeling the capsules 2 and 3, and marking their function in her smart phone. 

Now if only she knew how to use a jetbike… 

Bra rushed down the corridor, phone still at her ear, the nearest empty room only a few doors away now. The Gold Lounge. Plush carpets, dark leather armchairs, gracefully ageing yellow walls - for a room with no real gold in it it carried forty year-old opulence well.

She threw open the door and was immediately reminded why this room was always empty. Smoking hadn’t been allowed in the building for years and yet the smell of stale cigarettes and cigars still clung to it, like a portal to the past. A portal no one in their right mind would go through - unless they were desperate not to be overheard.

She had to be sure. In her paranoia she even used her eyes to scan the lounge, finding herself, as she’d sensed she would be, alone.

Bra had sense to turn on the TV, the only modern thing in the room and dialed up the sound before finally asking. “Did you tell him?”

“That despite her lecturing on secrecy ‘Ma’am’ may have slipped up by providing encouragement to a child?” Mai snorted down the line. "No, only that I was catching up on the logs.”

Bra breathed a sigh of relief, and fell back onto the leather couch. “Thank you, I want to keep this away from the Interns for now. If that number’s right—“

“—if?”

“I mean, it’s surprising, such a huge jump so quickly.” She covered her eyes with the crook of her elbow, "If they’re that powerful already, screw basic. Pan needs to pull the stick out her ass.”

Clacking from a keyboard came across the line, “Well she better hop to updating the rules. I’m dropping in the data from that Saturday to get better baseline estimates.”

“Please don’t tell me that was pure genki.”

Mai paused as the algorithm clunked over and Bra’s heart was in her mouth. “Not enough information to say definitively, I’d guess not. But the ramp in power combined with the event profile… it looks charged and released, directional.” Bra’s relief at the analysis was extremely short-lived.

“A ki-blast?!”

“You’re the expert - you tell me. Though, what else could it be?”

“They’re practicing ki-blasts?! That’s not in the book yet?”

“You said they were inventive, yes?” Bra groaned. Of course. What else could they do, she’d wondered. Whatever this was, apparently. “Still it was only once, maybe they surprised themselves.”

“They were pretty keen on keeping low,” that was more a hope than a certainty, “hopefully they’re sitting on their hands.”

“I’ll forward you these charts,” Mai kept her fussing tone almost at bay, “and I’ll trust you to do something with this?”

“Sure.”

“Including telling your brother?”

Bra winced, but she didn’t protest - she couldn’t expect Mai to cover for her that much. She sighed. “When Pan’s awake and we have a solution, or at least a next step. Before he goes home tonight.”

“Thank you.”

They said their goodbyes and Bra stared at the now empty phone home screen, silencing news of a traffic incident on the the television to not attract attention from the corridor. Chin had her number. If they were worried they could call and ask - she’d said as much. Maybe they were scared of her after all? Or maybe they weren’t worried, maybe they wanted to learn offensive moves. Had she misjudged them? She thought about messaging them through their blog to ask in advance, but that might scare them more.

Waking Pan to ask her for Chin’s address would be tantamount to admitting she was worried, that this was unforeseen. Still, the solution was simple - get Pan to agree Chin needed guidance and fast through a visit - then sweet-talk the mother, and that could be done this evening or tomorrow. She thought about messaging them through their blog to ask in advance, but that might scare them more.

Pan woke at eight Bra’s time. More than enough time to craft the message to her.

[princess-eschalot]

[Event] Compromise

Night had fallen on this corner of the world, and the gym in Satan’s dojo was, surprisingly, deserted this Sunday evening. Bra was expecting to have to field a few questions or at least stares from people who didn’t know better as she waited on Pan to finish. It had just gone six in the evening here, eight in the morning at home, but she hadn’t bothered to sleep, instead riding the dregs of adrenaline from the night to meet their scheduled session. The recording was overrunning, Bra had figured - so she’d begun planning her next moves, the punch bag taking the brunt of her thinking. And that’s how Pan found her ten minutes later, a slick of sweat already forming on her furrowed brow. She would have got the jump if the door wasn’t in Bra’s eye line.

“Sorry, sorry, retakes...”

“For ki-sensing?!” Bra thought she’d read the message correctly but-

“Yeah, I kept corpsing. We’re not even using all that floofy nonsense and still no one can keep a straight face when there’s no ki on camera. Just looks so weird to sit there.” She knelt on a mat by Bra, undoing her obi and slipping her arms out of her uwagi. “A little birdy told me you had a late night last night.”

Bra resumed her uppercuts. “Shadowing without the E.R.E. there for the first twenty minutes. Don’t want to cause friction but I need to tell your Mom. What’s the point of the Emergency Relief Effort if there’s no effort to relieve the emergency?” She shook her head. The police would have raised an official complaint if they’d been caught, but what else were they supposed to do, let people burn as they waited? “Would that birdy happened to have been Goten?” “Maybe. He came by to say hi on his way home. Smelt gross by the way, and it’s still clinging to you. How was Laurel?” Folding her uwagi on the mat Pan asked as casually as she could, which meant it was not a casual question.

“Motivated.” Bra unleashed a flurry of punches. After her earlier jibe he’d done well enough controlling a unit whilst she, Trunks, Mai and Goten worked independently on a sweep. Thankfully they only had the security staff to find, no one else was working at the factory when the fire took hold. Pan was waiting for her to voice that she knew but Bra was not going to be forthcoming.

“‘Motivated’ but?” Pan prodded, and Bra couldn’t help herself.

“But he wants that kind of authority.”

“So he did a good job.” Pan sighed. “Bra--”

“I bet he has his Hero name already.”

“Which one of them doesn’t?” A wry grin played across Pan’s face. She was out of uniform now, zuban scooted off and being rolled in the uwagi, her compression shorts and short-sleeved rash guard she’d be training in had already been underneath.

“Can’t we have Daisy back? I liked her.”

“She was always going to go back home. No way North City would take to anyone but a local.”

“I know, but he’s so...!” She mimed strangling him between punches and Pan laughed, but with sympathy. Obi carefully tied around the rest of her gi and habitual ritual complete, she began a few quick stretches.

“So… why couldn’t you speak to me over the phone about yesterday?”

Bra winced internally, she wasn’t going to like this. Mainly because Bra hated when Pan did the same to her.

“I wanted you to see it. First hand.”

Pan’s face dropped, curiosity slammed shut. “No.”

“Come on! You have to see how good they are.” “So your memories can influence my decision? We made rules on recruitment in advance so we'd stick to them.”

Bra scoffed. “Rules are made to be broken.”

“They literally aren't.” Pan side-eyed her. “No. Kids.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Bra held her hands up, “but you do teach kids the basics. Just consider that.” She forced the most earnest smile across her face. “Please?”

Pan glared for a moment before sagging. “Fine...”

[princess-eschalot]

westcitydunderhead:

princess-eschalot:

“You probably won’t need a loaded dice for this one,” she kept her voice low on the off-chance, “squeeze past this group and you’ll be home safe.” A tiny marble of ki shaped itself above her palm, ready to superheat a pocket of somewhere above them. A smack of a thunder clap.

“Get the other side of me and go on the gun. On your marks…” 

Hokuto pressed against the wall, holding her backpack rather painfully in her hands. A moment’s struggle as she put the butterfly inside the backpack and zipped it up– she’d wear it again later. 

Still, this was nice. All in all a good afternoon. 

She nodded. Ready. 

Bra’s little bang flew into the air and sent a resounding thunderclap, like a bolt from the blue! 

Hokuto took that as her signal, picking up her pack and heading through the entrance while no one else was looking, continuing on her way. Don’t run. Running attracts cops and assholes, and weak as you are you couldn’t get too far anyway. … Reminds me, where’s some cheap eats around here…?

She slung up her pack– a little more difficult this time– and kept going. Either it worked or it didn’t and she didn’t have the time or the energy to think about it right now. 

And they were off. Even if they were noticed post distraction, from the feel of it no one was tracking or following Chin’s slowly recovering fall-like aura. Chin, that tightly coiled spring of potential energy ready to launch in some direction. And for all their posturing, still a kid. It was a good thing I found them she tried to convince herself, mostly successfully, after all their knack and improvisation was astounding and without intervention, well, who knows. Even given their young age Pan was sure to make an exception, especially now, even just to keep them in a holding pattern for a few years, Bra was sure.

She thought better of going in the front door on the off-chance Chin was spotted and someone did the math. She retraced half her footsteps to the back.

Yes. And who knows, it could help at home, too. Whatever was going on. Chin. Chin… Hokuto.

A welcoming party greeted her behind the door, a number of steps back in trepidation. Three Interns hid behind Laurel, their defacto leader on account of his ability and decisive nature. He of course had the ki glasses perched on his head. Bra’s age yet twice her size with bravado to match, he at least maintained the sense not to over-stretch his growing authority to attempt to encompass her.

All watched intently as she hung up her scarf and boots. Bra pointedly ignored them. She didn’t have a burning desire to share; they could break the silence first. To show she was serious she made to leave without a word. Some poking and prodding and Laurel took on the responsibility before the moment left forever.

“Ma’am? Who was that?”

Refusing to immediately respond Bra pulled out her phone; there were important texts to compose. “If you’re not careful?” She took great delight in pausing next to them, grinning with all her teeth and finally looking him in the eye. “Your replacement.”

[Event!] An Afternoon at Capsule Corporation

[princess-eschalot]

westcitydunderhead:

princess-eschalot:

Any closer and they’d be visible from an oblique angle. She changed tack towards the wall for cover until the last moment. “So, how good are you at nonchalance?”

Well that was a load-off, at least. They probably looked a sight right now given how ki-starved they were. At least their fingers were still flexible, but it was starting to get painful to flex them. that ki technique was a mistake… 

“I mean, no one watched me going over the wall to the testing area. … Except you I guess. So I’m… Okay, I guess? Maybe I was just lucky, but at this point I’ll take lucky over good.” Although, given the distance of that wall… Hoo boy. This was going to be interesting, in the provincial sense.

Recalling the thrill of days spent creeping around home’s rabbit warren of corridors, Bra instinctively pressed herself against the wall to edge towards the open entrance. If security hadn’t been following their escapades so far they would definitely be watching now - she’d fill them in later.

Settling into the scene behind the wall, the wisps of ki told a familiar story. Mostly closed-off individuals and pairs walking passed with purpose, their attention taken up internally or in conversation. One excitable family it felt like by the entrance, they’d definitely need distracting. Easy enough with good aim. 

“You probably won’t need a loaded dice for this one,” she kept her voice low on the off-chance, “squeeze past this group and you’ll be home safe.” A tiny marble of ki shaped itself above her palm, ready to superheat a pocket of somewhere above them. A smack of a thunder clap. “Get the other side of me and go on the gun. On your marks...” 

[Event!] An Afternoon at Capsule Corporation