Vietnam [ Sen Linh Đoàn ] | Information + TradedawnlotusApril 23 2011, 03:43:23 UTC
[Even back home, she took no sides. Equality for all, freedom for all. But sometimes, one must play dirty to achieve it. She's negotiated with any side, as long as their proposition interested her. Which is exactly why she was here. She made this trip to this dark city a few times a year; it was profitable. Whether they were after information or equipment, that was what she was here for. The police or the gangs, it really didn't matter, as long as they provided a solid case; despite dealing in the dark, she still had her honour and her own personal justice. She took no sides but her own; all she worked for, was to put her country on the map. And now it was.
And so here she was, lounging in one of the nicer bars in the city (and it still stunk of corruption), her weapons hidden out of view, waiting for the right moment to happen.]
[[Your South East Asia representative? BUY SOME STUFF]]
[Rufus Shinra rarely tread these streets himself, preferring liaisons to do his work between business partners simply because he did not have the time for him. This one, however, the man made time for, never one to miss an opportunity for a repeat customer, if not for the relations his company had worldwide. Which is why the man, dressed in his usual ostinatious white, finds himself in this bar a few moments later, a smirk of a smile touching his face when he finds a familiar figure in the crowd and making his way over.]
[Sen turned towards the familiar voice, smiling when he approaches. It was always nice when he greeted her; his linguistics were perfect. Rufus ShinRa was one of the few men, powerful as he may be, that she approved of, an intelligent, well spoken man. Making sure her ao dai was smooth (today, she chose to wear a slender and formal dark blue, sleeves made of tulle), she bowed her head politely]
Xin chào, Mr ShinRa, it certainly has, and I hope I am not taking too much time away from you. [She laughs softly] Have you been well since we've last met?
It is aways a pleasure to see you, taking time away to meet with good company never bothers me at all.
[The line of formal politeness and teasing on the edge of coquetting is thin with him and always has been, never quite reaching over, but always there.] I have, in both business and of myself. And you?
[ The city's worst slum is built in the heart of the commercial district, on the rusting remains of a construction site. The area around it is so choked with skyscrapers that they blot out the sky. The only way you can tell it's raining is when the sewer gates open and you suddenly find yourself knee-deep in scummy water.
The mafia found him half-dead here, thrown out with the sewage and barely breathing. He woke up handcuffed to a steel-framed bed, his clear blue eyes empty of any recognition.
They knew that face, but it didn't know them. Not the types to look a gift horse in the mouth, they decided to use it.
He's called "Ironfist" in the ring-- partly because he rarely loses a fight, mostly because his real name's just unusual enough that it might make its way to the wrong sort of people. People looking for a cop from another city, whose last message on his fiance's answering machine was the news that he'd found the evidence he needed to close the case he was working on. But that was five years ago, and perhaps the trail's gone
( ... )
Toushirou Hitsugaya || Drug-runnericy_heavensApril 23 2011, 17:24:45 UTC
[Toushirou hates doing this, really. It's not his business if someone wants to get high off this crap or kill themselves with it, or whatever, but still. It's disgusting business
( ... )
[There was something about this child, as he stood there, and she guessed he had something to do with illegal trade. What it was for, she had yet to find out. However, unlike the children around, there was this look in his eye. Carefully, she made her way to him, pretending to be just some random passerby; she knew what damage she could cause if she ruined a trade deal for him, being that she was not his contact. Pulling up her coat, she shivered.]
[He's almost startled when the woman speaks. But he certainly doesn't jump a little. Surely not. Most people tend to ignore his existence, and so he eyes her cautiously. This isn't unusual for him. He eyes everyone cautiously, whether he's at "work" or not.
[A quick look at her confirms that she's not the contact he's waiting for. Is she just a random passerby making idle conversation? An undercover vice-cop? Who the hell even knows?] It's cold enough.
[He's actually not that cold, and would have worn a lighter jacket had this not been a business outing. But the woman is a stranger. She doesn't know that.]
[There, that look, it was a strong one. It's a pity a child like him was stuck doing this kind of work. She chuckled as she pulled up her coat a little more; unfortunately, the weather was affecting her (she was sure she'll never be used to the cold), and she knew she shouldn't be out long unless she had more layers.]
Aha, this is not a good day to be waiting outside, I suppose? Should you not be inside?
Kaiba Seto // BawssshutupandduelmeApril 23 2011, 18:29:55 UTC
Two faced companies doing legitimate business during the day and manipulating the gangs at night was normal business here. Kaiba Corporation was no exception, though it had been rather under the radar since the old CEO had died. It was exactly how Kaiba Seto wanted it. While the other groups were squabbling over weapons, he was setting up to be the economic powerhouse of this new millennium. They could shoot at each other all they liked, but you couldn't do anything without money.
The CEO himself was waiting in his boardroom for report of the latest acquisitions. He was buying up the whole line in technology, everything from the silicon to make the chips to the stores that sold the finished product. Of course in this city, buying up more often than not involved offering bribes or pushing people around. Hopefully his people would have some good news for him.
That or one of his competitors might come in to complain. That was always fun.
Soul Eater | runaway rich kid/buskerbrbomnomsoulsApril 24 2011, 00:00:15 UTC
[It hadn't been that hard to blend into the street crowd like Soul had thought. After running away from that lifestyle, he actually felt more relaxed now than he ever had in...well, ever. Yeah, he was sleeping on the streets but he wasn't complaining. The police had long-since stopped searching for him but he knew they had profile pics of him and everything - hence why he dyed his hair when he got the chance
( ... )
who needs kid when you can have waffleswantsabookmarkApril 24 2011, 00:42:03 UTC
[Gopher's running errands for his master (so if you ask what's in his backpack he might just to kill you), but he can stop and listen for just a little.]
omnom wafflesbrbomnomsoulsApril 24 2011, 00:52:27 UTC
[Soul takes notice of the lack of backpack but by this point in his living on the streets has been around long enough to know that you don't ask questions unless you want to avoid getting killed. He learned that the hard way, if the scar across his stomach could say anything about that. He inclines his head in greeting, still in the midst of playing the song.]
[Oh. Recognition. That gets you some points in this kid's book (except, well, he doesn't have a book. Noah does.) and if Gopher had any money, he'd toss it at you. Instead he'll just stand and watch.]
Comments 245
And so here she was, lounging in one of the nicer bars in the city (and it still stunk of corruption), her weapons hidden out of view, waiting for the right moment to happen.]
[[Your South East Asia representative? BUY SOME STUFF]]
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Xin Chào, Miss Đoàn. It has been some time.
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Xin chào, Mr ShinRa, it certainly has, and I hope I am not taking too much time away from you. [She laughs softly] Have you been well since we've last met?
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[The line of formal politeness and teasing on the edge of coquetting is thin with him and always has been, never quite reaching over, but always there.] I have, in both business and of myself. And you?
Reply
The mafia found him half-dead here, thrown out with the sewage and barely breathing. He woke up handcuffed to a steel-framed bed, his clear blue eyes empty of any recognition.
They knew that face, but it didn't know them. Not the types to look a gift horse in the mouth, they decided to use it.
He's called "Ironfist" in the ring-- partly because he rarely loses a fight, mostly because his real name's just unusual enough that it might make its way to the wrong sort of people. People looking for a cop from another city, whose last message on his fiance's answering machine was the news that he'd found the evidence he needed to close the case he was working on. But that was five years ago, and perhaps the trail's gone ( ... )
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Today is much too cold to be outside, isn't it?
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[A quick look at her confirms that she's not the contact he's waiting for. Is she just a random passerby making idle conversation? An undercover vice-cop? Who the hell even knows?] It's cold enough.
[He's actually not that cold, and would have worn a lighter jacket had this not been a business outing. But the woman is a stranger. She doesn't know that.]
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Aha, this is not a good day to be waiting outside, I suppose? Should you not be inside?
Reply
The CEO himself was waiting in his boardroom for report of the latest acquisitions. He was buying up the whole line in technology, everything from the silicon to make the chips to the stores that sold the finished product. Of course in this city, buying up more often than not involved offering bribes or pushing people around. Hopefully his people would have some good news for him.
That or one of his competitors might come in to complain. That was always fun.
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