The halls of Osaka were as fallow as a Stuttgart farm. Though Samura attempted to spread the propaganda that Osaka still brought in profits, once inside it was obvious that the station was mostly empty. Shiraishi began to wonder if her room was actually a special room for Hogosha agents or if she had simply been given a room at random.
"Konnichiwa," Shiraishi began, grabbing the attention of a passing woman, "I just arrived here by shuttle. My things have been sent for from Kyushu several days ago. Do you know if they arrived yet?"
The woman looked at the datapad she had been holding, tapping her fingers against the screen.
"Yes, ma'am," she responded, after several moments of tapping onto the screen, "Just down that hall, we are holding personal fineries. We recieved them not two hours ago. No doubt they are yours. Would you like to confirm this first or should I simply call the automated service to move the cargo to your room?"
"I shall do and inspect it" Shiraishi said, starting to move down the hall and find what her alias was to be, "Thank you!"
Running from the woman before she offered more questions, Shiraishi found herself encompassed by a large room filled with cargo pods. She had failed to anticipate this, and hadn't asked for the pod number containing her goods. Looking more intently through the room, though, it didn't seem as big a problem as initial anticipated. A man stood amidst the pods, tapping fervently at his datapad.
"Excuse me," Shiraishi began, taken aback by the man. He was disfigured for a Kusari, like someone had taken a bat and beaten him repeatedly. His nose was bent, and his forehead looked as if it had a dent. Shiraishi had to take a moment to collect herself before continuing, "I am the sender of our latest shipment of Consumer Goods, however, I seem to have lost the identification number."
"Ah, yes, Amami Miharu?" he responded, quite politely, "Just this way. I will show you to your goods."
They moved deeper into the sea of cargo pods, the disfigured man leading. They disappeared from the view of the hall and only continued walking.
[8:32:45 PM] Dusty Lens: Oh no, let me get that. Hello? Oh it's my grandma. She says to be roleplay.
[12:49:19 AM] Elgatodiablo: You know its nice that you have all that proof and all, Bacon... but I just don't believe you.
A blow. The datapad struck Shiraishi bluntly against her left cheekbone. Reeling from surprise and impact, Shiraishi's back fell upon a red cargo pod. She felt a warm trickle down her cheek, as if the pad had popped her pretty face.
The disfigured man drew a small knife from his belt, holding it in his left hand with his blunt instrument still in his right. The man lunged at Shiraishi with his newly revealed armament, prompting a desperate somersault from the dazed woman. Narrowly escaping the blade, Shiraishi revealed her own, drawing her jade stiletto from the forearm of her blouse.
On an even ground, the clumsy man was no match for Shiraishi. Though he was no drunken brawler, the source of his disfiguring became apparent to Shiraishi. At once, he lunged at her again, and in one beautiful motion, she pinned him against the very same red cargo pod she had previously reeled against.
"I want you to see your death, Dragon," Shiraishi proclaimed, holding her jade stiletto against the border of his iris, "I want you to know it was a woman who killed you. A woman you had attacked in dishonor."
"Dragon!?" the man laughed, "You witches are so drugged you cannot see your friends from foes, not to mention foes apart. Do it. Kill me. Your 'Dragon'."
Shiraishi's right ear twitches at the sound of his sarcasm. Incredulity flooded over her. The very notion that she could be mistaken for the Chrysanthemum she was sent to dispatch filled her with both disgust and amazement.
"I am no witch, snake," she replied in a sinister whisper, pressing the stiletto evermore subtly, "I am your reaper, white as your skeleton after the maggots have had their way in the airlock. You will not insult me."
"If you are no witch, then who are you?" his words rang, halting Shiraishi's impulse to finish her prey, "for I am no Dragon."
Intrigued, she relinquished her ounce of pressure.
"I am Shiraishi Ayumi, indentured servant to the Farmer's Alliance." she responded, eying the man with dubious distrust.
"It is certain, then, that I am a fool," the man proclaimed, "For I am Andre Morales of the Corsair Empire."
[8:32:45 PM] Dusty Lens: Oh no, let me get that. Hello? Oh it's my grandma. She says to be roleplay.
[12:49:19 AM] Elgatodiablo: You know its nice that you have all that proof and all, Bacon... but I just don't believe you.
![[Image: Skritt.gif]](http://i271.photobucket.com/albums/jj139/Kadinski/Skritt.gif)