//This is a continuation of these communications
Dang it!
Cosmo Kessler fumbled nervously with the bottle. Despite the permanent engine oil stains on his palms, it was the sweat that made fishing out each capsule of anxiety medication difficult. It also didn't help that he had to scratch furiously at his neck every few seconds - what was he thinking putting that much starch on his collar?
Finally managing to roll out the third pill with his index finger, he shakily popped it into his mouth and washed it down with a bottle of water - taken from his own ship, just in case. Everyone's heard horror stories of hapless pilots at Rochester's bar taking a spiked drink and following a pretty girl into a back room, only to wake up sold into slavery or with their organs harvested. At 63, he wasn't sure how much demand there would be for his labor or his guts, but why else would some woman even entertain the idea of going out for drinks? What's more, he'd personally witnessed her blasting a transport to pieces shortly after he managed to fly off.
This lady is a stone cold killer, but here I am, trying to make an impression and chit-chat.
Catching a glance at his reflection off the chassis of a serving droid, Kessler furtively wiped his hands along the sides of his glass, hoping to get enough condensation to make his receding hairline look a little more presentable.
Maybe I'll smooth talk my way into giving up just one kidney or getting sold to work a plantation. I mean, I'd always thought about retiring and buying a farm. Close enough...
The meds were starting to kick in now. It was the good old stuff from a back-alley doctor on Denver - more potent, from before Cryer caved in under multiple lawsuits and turned them into little more than candy...probably because of all the high-profile politicians and executives who couldn't handle it. Still, he was three doses in and the shaking of his hands had only just begun to stop.
Maybe it won't be so bad...maybe...
Kurumi Saeki had arrived way earlier than him. She sat down in the darkest corner of the bar, so she could not be noticed so easily. It was part of her plan. It is always a pleasure for her to watch the anxiety of somebody. Especially if that someone was about to meet her. Watching him sitting there filled her with a sadistic joy. But it was about time to approach him, before he takes all those suspicious looking pills. She had walked behind him slowly, then put her hands on his shoulders.
" Konbanwa Kessler-san."
Her appearance is quite deceiving. A fragile looking, slim body, all in all, she is a good looking lady. Half of her face was covered by her long black hair. She takes a seat next to him.
" My my, am I such a frightening sight? Or that isn't the reason for taking those pills?" She asks with a wide grin on her face, and tilts her head sideways. This movement revealed her other eye. Her eyes have different color. Red and yellow.
" No worries. If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it in space. So, no worries old man." She teases him. Realizing that she didn't manage to make him a bit more relaxed, he changed the topic. " Not to mention, you were the one to invite me for a drink, so you should focus on having a good time, or on entertaining me at least."
" Don't worry, my sadistic desires are restricted to younger men, and I won't stab you, or sell you as a slave, nor will I sell your organs. I promise."
After a short pause. " Though I'm not really good at keeping promises." She jokes, but that intention couldn't be derived from her tone.
Kessler froze in place upon hearing Kurumi, his eyes bulging as he frantically started scanning the room for exits, weapons of opportunity, potential ambushers, human shields, tripping hazards, unattended valuables, quick and painless methods of suicide...
Well...I'm definitely going to need to take a fourth pill soon when she's not looking.
Still, he wasn't sure whether to be relieved or offended at hearing he wouldn't be kidnapped or carved up, though her tone kept him guessing - was that a good thing or a bad thing? For now, the hard thinking would have to wait...
Kessler contorts his face into a weak smile and croaks softly as he tucks the pill bottle away, "Oh you know, just the usual meds, keeps me tickin' and all. How's your day been? Can I, uh, get you a drink?" He shakily swivels around in his seat and motions to the bartender with a forced smirk and highly exaggerated wave of his hand - hopefully to project a little confidence - before turning back to face Kurumi, "So...what brings you to these parts? I mean, I'm not assuming you're not from around here - because you might be - and, well...I mean, you seem to be the type of woman who knows what she wants."
" Sure I'd like a drink" She turns to the bartender and nods. " The usual stuff for me. As for the gentleman, make sure not to poison his drink." she looks at him, with a cheeky smile on her face. " As for what brings me here to liberty..... You could say, I was escaping from bitter memories. And actually, avenging someones death. If you'd like to hear the whole story, you'll have to make me drink much more."
" And yes. I always get what I want. Either by charm, or by using brute force." She gets a bit closer to him, then she leans towards him. " I get anything and everything" This movement was enough to distarct him, so she could take the pill bottle from him. She sits back, and scans the text, written on the pill bottle. " Just as expected. Am I making you that anxious?"
" You won't get that pill bottle back, don't even dream about it." She teases him, her voice sounds rather playful. Kurumi would love to mention how much he hates when one lies to her, but judging from the situation, she'd rather not increase the tension.
" To a point, I enjoy seeing you suffer, watching your nervous movements.... laughable. But after a short while it gets rather frustrating..... So. Just tell me. What can I do to make you relax a bit? Should I unarm myself, or what?" she grins.
Kessler hunches over in resignation at the loss of his pills, bracing himself against the bar as he queasily reaches for his beverage and flashes a grimace toward the bartender. "More drinks...always good," he murmurs in between sips, desperately hoping it will interact with the meds. "Sure would like to hear that story - sounds like quite a tale. I mean, if you don't mind. Could skip the bitter memories part. Already got a tab here and no assignments scheduled for a while, so whatever it takes, right?"
He repeats his words back mentally, worried about coming off as insensitive. Truthfully, the biggest tragedy he'd experienced was nearly forty years ago, when the racing ship he'd saved years for was impounded and never seen again. Despite the countless stories and holotainment sims he'd been through, Kessler considered himself to be one of the least adventurous pilots out there, doing the regular grind to make a living, maybe retiring in a small pod condo on Curacao - and that seemed to suit him just fine. Kurumi, however...
Avenging deaths? Charm and brute force to get "anything and everything"? The heck have you gotten yourself into?
The audible crinkling of his ridiculously overstarched coveralls fills the bar as Kessler straightens up in his seat and shrugs, "And, um, don't worry about me. In a place like this, I'd feel better if you were armed." He slides his drink off the counter and rests it awkwardly in his lap, oblivious to the growing damp spot from the condensation as he smiles sheepishly, "Yep, a story sounds like it'd be just the thing for the nerves."
“I could skip the bitter memories part?” Her expressions change rapidly, a psycho grin can be seen on her face. “That leaves me nothing to talk about” She stops for a few minutes, thinking about what to say. “Either way, I’ll have to summarize it somehow.” She orders another drink meanwhile, but this time, a considerably large amount of liquid is poured into her glass, it’s probably sake from the smell of it. It didn’t take her too much time to empty the glass; the content was strong enough to make her frown.
“Okay…. where to start… Let’s see. I was about 6 years old, me and my mother were about to meet my father in the Kepler system. Father arrived an hour later, after my mother’s ship was moored to Ames. Then, the “happy family” got onto the ship. It was the Crimson Cherry, a dragon gunboat. Since my mother was a Blood Dragon, it’s quite understandable. From Ames, we headed to somewhere… I can’t recall where… I was told that we’ll be going on a vacation.” Her voice was rather cold, just as if the story she was about to tell was one of her worst memory.
“And then…. They arrived. The so called “peace keeping” forces. A few shots were enough to disable the Cherry, and then, some men in uniforms boarded the ship. The next thing I remember….. was the blood. All over the interior of the Cherry, even on my face….. And my parents were no more."
“A few years later, after I have gained back my mental stability, or well something like that, I had stolen a fighter, and flew to liberty. I’ve shot, killed anything that had the identifications of a liberty navy vessel….” Her expressions saddened yet again, but after a few minutes, she snapped out of that mood. One could say, that she has tow personalities. A psycho, cold blooded killer, and one, which resembles the cute girl she should be. “Not exactly a story to make you relax…. But I have changed slightly, so no worries. I don’t kill anything that moves. I’ll try to get to know the person at a minimal rate, and then decide if it’s worth for him/her to live.” She laughs gently. “That means, if I meet anybody in person, that somebody has nothing to afraid of. I won’t do anything to him/her.” She laughs gently. “ I tend to exaggerate a bit, in order to make one frightened, sorry for that.”
“After all this, I’d rather unarm myself. I have a feeling that you wouldn’t trust me. You’d thik of yourself as the next victim.” She smiles at him, and unbuttons her blouse to be able to pull out a pistol, which looks similar to the flintlock pistols, known to be used on Sol, a millennium ago. She places the gun on the table. “ Also, don’t expect me not to notice where your eyes have just wandered…. Male reflex isn’t it?” She giggles, she doesn’t seem to be embarrassed, not even a tiny little bit.
Kessler turns red and his eyes snap back down to his drink, uncertain how to take in the story coupled with the shift in mood. He makes a few furtive glances to check for additional weapons hidden away - maybe an ankle holster or spring-loaded pistol up the sleeve like in those vintage holo-vids.
This all feels so surreal....
After running through a dozen different responses, silently mouthing each, he finally manages a hoarse whisper, "I'm sorry to hear all that. I mean, I can't even begin to imagine..." He sets his drink on the bar, shifting uncomfortably upon noticing the extensive dampness. "It's, um, good that time has healed some wounds and...you've become more discriminating." He eyes the weapon on the table cautiously, uncertain of whether or not it'll end up pointed at his head. He pauses for a bit to measure each word ahead of time, not wanting to sound condescending, "Is there anyone - or any way - to help? I mean...when does your mission end?"
"Those eyes of yours.... either you try to undress me with your eyes, or you think that I have more weapons hidden somewhere..." She laughs at his reaction as she put the gun on the table. After a few minutes, she had realised that she have forgotten to button her blouse back. Slowly, but surely she manages to button it back, even though, she have missed some button holes.
" Don't even try. It's not something you'd like to imagine. And seeing it up close.... thats more than horrifying..... Can't we change the topic? I'd rather not recall these memories, since I've burried them deep already. I'd end up crying, and would blame it on you..." she forces a fake smile to her face.
"I wouldn't call it a mission. It feels good to make them pay for what they did. I guess... As for helping... None can. Not like any have tried, besides that woman calling herself a psychiatrist. She was annoying. Was." A sadistic smile can be seen on her face. " Maybe... there is one thing you could do for me...." She looks into his eyes, she looks as innocent as ever. " Give me a hug."
Dang...did I just push the wrong button and hit a space mine? Two ex-wives and I still can't figure this stuff the heck out.
Kessler furrows his brow and frowns, "Sure, you've been through a lot. I can see it, but it's good that you're here now." He steps gingerly off his seat and moves in close to give a warm embrace, closing his eyes and nodding slowly as he screams internally.
Okay, this is how I die. Get in close and tight so she can't jam the knife into my gut as hard and has to really work to drag it up to my sternum and spill 'em. Maybe my jugular'll get ripped out with that nice smile of hers? Punctured lung from behind with a drink stirrer? That's gotta be it. Alright, think - what do you do again? Push all the air out or something, nice and slow...
He gives a long, pained sigh as he pats gently at her back, "You've been through oh so much..."
Apart from smiling gently, she did nothing. She put her hands around him, and she stroked his back gently. "...You are tense.... maybe you needed that hug more than I do..." She realises, that she is the cause of his nervousness, but she does nothing to make him calm down. Not like she could do anything.
"I've been through a lot, but that doesn't change anything now." She slides out of his hands, and picks up the gun. " You are boring, old man.... Far too boring. Worthless for me." She points the gun at him. " Die. Shine!" She whispers. After a minute, her face turns red, and she bursts out laughing. " Oh, you should've seen your face! You really thought I'd end the life of someone as kind as you?"
" Well... I have told you my story, the tragedy of my life.... It's your turn to sum up your life. I'm sure that Its interesting. Or if it's not, I can still shoot you." She winks, then she realises that he might take her seriously. " I'm joking, baka old man."
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