HomeStrangers in a Coffee Shop [Closed/Aine]
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Strangers in a Coffee Shop [Closed/Aine]
by Diarmaid O'Cahan Wed Jul 01, 2020 5:42 pm
Fuck what a day? Or rather days he supposed. It had been a twenty two hour flight with a very uncomfortable three hour layover from Dulbin to Tokyo. He hated long flights. Not because he was afraid of flying, not by a long shot, but sitting in one position for that long because some fat sweaty stranger while a child kicked the back of your seat and some woman’s brat cried for what felt like literal hours all inside a small, inescapable cabin, was not his entire of a good time.
He was utterly and completely exhausted. But he’d made it right? And he’d booked a very nice penthouse suite for an extended stay with a rather upscale hotel called “Hotel Gajoen Karakura”. It was a bit cheaper, and easier to find a vacancy in, than any of the more central Tokyo Hotels.
So, after a very long flight, once he got to the accommodations after a very long flight what did the very expensive hotel have to say to him?
Oh so sorry sir. You rooms not available so please fuck off and come back tonight.
Well okay maybe that’s not exactly what they’d said but it was the same end result. Diarmaid would have to be satisfied with the fact that they’d at least taken his baggage, except his guitar, they could go to hell if they thought he’d trust them with that. So withdrawing some of the weird monopoly money that passed as Japanese currency from his account he’d set off to find some entertainment to keep himself awake for the rest of the day before he could finally get some sleep because he sure as shit didn’t get any on the flight.
Luckily thanks to the power of all the anime he’d watched over his life he was able to work out the basics of how yen worked rather quickly. He’d gone and seen a bad movie, got a few drinks in a traditional japanese bar with a waitress with whom he’d been far too exhausted to return the flirting off. Then he’d wandered the area. He liked Karakura Town, it was close enough to the Capital but far quieter than the little of Tokyo he had seen had been.
Finally, as the evening began to roll in, the Irishman felt himself flagging and decided to go get a pick me up. Eventually he found himself at a lovely little western style coffee shop called Anteiku. The calm looking little place sat on the corner of a small neighbourhood where the streets were quite quiet with only a few people wandering up and down the street.
Getting a seat out the front, as the weather was quite nice, Diarmaid got himself a latte and sat in the setting sun as a soft breeze blew down the street. Unpacking his guitar, the Quincy smiled and ran his hand along the wooden surface of the instrument. It had been a gift from his father when he graduated University, the same man who’d taught him to play growing up, and was a Martin Eric Clapton signature. Although the cost was a mere drop in the ocean that was the O’Cahan fortune it was expensive enough that Diarmaid probably would have felt too guilty to buy it himself. Frankly it was probably the best gift he’d ever received after his Cross of course. Although did that even count?
Getting comfortable he strummed the guitar, pausing to just adjust it slightly so it was perfectly in tune, before he began playing. Without thinking too much about it he soon found himself playing Over the hills and far away by Led Zeppelin. He saw an older Japanese with his coffee glance over across the empty tables between them who smiled appreciatively before returning to his drink.
Feeling a little more comfortable he continued playing for himself, and apparently the elderly man, pausing between songs to sip at his drink.
He was utterly and completely exhausted. But he’d made it right? And he’d booked a very nice penthouse suite for an extended stay with a rather upscale hotel called “Hotel Gajoen Karakura”. It was a bit cheaper, and easier to find a vacancy in, than any of the more central Tokyo Hotels.
So, after a very long flight, once he got to the accommodations after a very long flight what did the very expensive hotel have to say to him?
Oh so sorry sir. You rooms not available so please fuck off and come back tonight.
Well okay maybe that’s not exactly what they’d said but it was the same end result. Diarmaid would have to be satisfied with the fact that they’d at least taken his baggage, except his guitar, they could go to hell if they thought he’d trust them with that. So withdrawing some of the weird monopoly money that passed as Japanese currency from his account he’d set off to find some entertainment to keep himself awake for the rest of the day before he could finally get some sleep because he sure as shit didn’t get any on the flight.
Luckily thanks to the power of all the anime he’d watched over his life he was able to work out the basics of how yen worked rather quickly. He’d gone and seen a bad movie, got a few drinks in a traditional japanese bar with a waitress with whom he’d been far too exhausted to return the flirting off. Then he’d wandered the area. He liked Karakura Town, it was close enough to the Capital but far quieter than the little of Tokyo he had seen had been.
Finally, as the evening began to roll in, the Irishman felt himself flagging and decided to go get a pick me up. Eventually he found himself at a lovely little western style coffee shop called Anteiku. The calm looking little place sat on the corner of a small neighbourhood where the streets were quite quiet with only a few people wandering up and down the street.
Getting a seat out the front, as the weather was quite nice, Diarmaid got himself a latte and sat in the setting sun as a soft breeze blew down the street. Unpacking his guitar, the Quincy smiled and ran his hand along the wooden surface of the instrument. It had been a gift from his father when he graduated University, the same man who’d taught him to play growing up, and was a Martin Eric Clapton signature. Although the cost was a mere drop in the ocean that was the O’Cahan fortune it was expensive enough that Diarmaid probably would have felt too guilty to buy it himself. Frankly it was probably the best gift he’d ever received after his Cross of course. Although did that even count?
Getting comfortable he strummed the guitar, pausing to just adjust it slightly so it was perfectly in tune, before he began playing. Without thinking too much about it he soon found himself playing Over the hills and far away by Led Zeppelin. He saw an older Japanese with his coffee glance over across the empty tables between them who smiled appreciatively before returning to his drink.
Feeling a little more comfortable he continued playing for himself, and apparently the elderly man, pausing between songs to sip at his drink.
Diarmaid O'Cahan- Posts : 37
Join date : 2020-06-30
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Re: Strangers in a Coffee Shop [Closed/Aine]
by Aine Hayes Wed Jul 01, 2020 8:52 pm
Aine was a bit full of herself today. She had been expanding her contacts through the city and that this meant she met one Quincy didn’t seem to diminish her mood in the least. It was good to know that Quincy were not as sparse in Karakura Town as the Ishikawa had led her to believe. Admittedly that could be just her assumption because she didn’t recall them down playing the situation, they just hadn’t come off with as clear a picture of what they would find here across the continent as she would have preferred.
She had also quit that shameful side job taking photos for a food blogger. Being between jobs was good enough, as cover stories went, for just a run of the mill photojournalist. It wasn’t like she depended on the funds to live, not on a business trip like this. The Family foot the bill. The chances of her being noticed, if such a thing were to occur, all over the city would seem like a starving journalist desperate for a big scoop. Aine was more than fine with that too.
There was a bit of pep in her step even this late in the day when evening was about to fall, her soft soled boots protecting her foot with each bouncy step she took still felt little less hindrance than they would had she been bare footed. Mystery filled her mind concerning all she had learned from the woman. Questions she had concerning activity the night Hollow Bait was flung into the city were at the heart of her investigations and she hoped to be able to run down what leads she could. Putting a stop to the hollow problem was the point of her mission and learning there were still other Quincy out and about watching over this city boded well for her chances of getting to go home back to Ireland one day.
There were dark thoughts plaguing her as well, worries that drew her keen focus trying to give light to various possibilities. Once this rogue Quincy, as she termed the culprit of that horrid night was dealt with, would that be the end of the large influx of Hollow in K-Town? It was much too soon to be hopeful of that being the end of things but she couldn’t shake off her good mood.
The whole world seemed to be bouncing and then she chuckled as she realized it was a street busker. Suddenly she let loose her voice in her best Robert Plant imitation once she recognized the melody. ”Many have I loved, and many times been bitten. Many times I've gazed along the open road. Many times I've lied, and many times I've listened. Many times I've wondered how much there is to know.” By the time she made it to the break she realized she was standing in front of the man playing guitar and her face went beat red.
Reaching into her front pocket with her right hand, she drew a bill out of her jeans and tossed it into the open guitar case uttering an awkward chuckle, ”he he”. Quickly she tucked inside the cafe trying to sink right down into the ground. Eyes darting into the crowd, she noticed a seat open at the counter and moved to slip up on the stool. ”Lord”, she thought a bit exasperated with herself, ”since when do I sing in public?”
Hastily she reached for a menu and began trying to remember how to read.
She had also quit that shameful side job taking photos for a food blogger. Being between jobs was good enough, as cover stories went, for just a run of the mill photojournalist. It wasn’t like she depended on the funds to live, not on a business trip like this. The Family foot the bill. The chances of her being noticed, if such a thing were to occur, all over the city would seem like a starving journalist desperate for a big scoop. Aine was more than fine with that too.
There was a bit of pep in her step even this late in the day when evening was about to fall, her soft soled boots protecting her foot with each bouncy step she took still felt little less hindrance than they would had she been bare footed. Mystery filled her mind concerning all she had learned from the woman. Questions she had concerning activity the night Hollow Bait was flung into the city were at the heart of her investigations and she hoped to be able to run down what leads she could. Putting a stop to the hollow problem was the point of her mission and learning there were still other Quincy out and about watching over this city boded well for her chances of getting to go home back to Ireland one day.
There were dark thoughts plaguing her as well, worries that drew her keen focus trying to give light to various possibilities. Once this rogue Quincy, as she termed the culprit of that horrid night was dealt with, would that be the end of the large influx of Hollow in K-Town? It was much too soon to be hopeful of that being the end of things but she couldn’t shake off her good mood.
The whole world seemed to be bouncing and then she chuckled as she realized it was a street busker. Suddenly she let loose her voice in her best Robert Plant imitation once she recognized the melody. ”Many have I loved, and many times been bitten. Many times I've gazed along the open road. Many times I've lied, and many times I've listened. Many times I've wondered how much there is to know.” By the time she made it to the break she realized she was standing in front of the man playing guitar and her face went beat red.
Reaching into her front pocket with her right hand, she drew a bill out of her jeans and tossed it into the open guitar case uttering an awkward chuckle, ”he he”. Quickly she tucked inside the cafe trying to sink right down into the ground. Eyes darting into the crowd, she noticed a seat open at the counter and moved to slip up on the stool. ”Lord”, she thought a bit exasperated with herself, ”since when do I sing in public?”
Hastily she reached for a menu and began trying to remember how to read.
Aine Hayes- Posts : 52
Join date : 2020-06-14
Diarmaid O'Cahan likes this post
Re: Strangers in a Coffee Shop [Closed/Aine]
by Diarmaid O'Cahan Thu Jul 02, 2020 8:02 am
The tired man was half-asleep despite his playing, he found the act of strumming away on his acoustic to be very relaxing which, combined with his sheer exhaustion, was speeding the man towards the land of dreams. His slide into dozing off completely was cut short when a voice pierced the air. Not a very musical one either albeit one with a very familiar accent.
Half-closed eyes refocused on the world around him just as the woman stopped singing and he saw the red face of embarrassment staring down at him. He could only blink sleepily at the stranger as she threw money at his open case and ran off.
‘What?’ he thought to himself as she fled into the cafe shop.
Diarmaid looked at the other patrons of the little coffeehouse who were at the other tables of the outdoor sitting area. They all looked away swiftly smirking at the man’s obvious confusion. Slowly things began to click together.
First the girl had, despite him sitting in the shop’s outdoor area, thought him a busker or something. Diarmaid felt a momentary tinge of hurt pride, he wasn't some annoying street musician filling the air with screeches to make a quick buck. He’d always hated buskers in general. They populated every street back home in Belfast City and made shopping an actual nightmare.
Secondly, the reason she’d sounded so familiar, was that her accent was Irish. County Cavan if he wasn’t mistaken, the worst accent on the entire Island alongside Louth and South Dublin. It could also be one of the damned hardest to understand, tending to be thicker more often than not.
Grinning he grabbed the 500 yen bill and shoving it into his pocket he carefully put the guitar back into its case before snapping the lid shut. Grabbing his empty coffee cup he walked into the shop and put it on the counter while ordering a second latte.
Taking a seat down beside the woman he smirked at her. “Bejaysis you came in aknownt of me there nai.” he said in the thickest Cavan accent he could imitate. Chuckling he continued in his own, less confusing, County Armagh accent. “Just messing. The name’s Diarmaid, it’s nice to meet you.” he said offering her his hand. “Didn’t think to run into someone else from back home on my first day in Japan.”
Half-closed eyes refocused on the world around him just as the woman stopped singing and he saw the red face of embarrassment staring down at him. He could only blink sleepily at the stranger as she threw money at his open case and ran off.
‘What?’ he thought to himself as she fled into the cafe shop.
Diarmaid looked at the other patrons of the little coffeehouse who were at the other tables of the outdoor sitting area. They all looked away swiftly smirking at the man’s obvious confusion. Slowly things began to click together.
First the girl had, despite him sitting in the shop’s outdoor area, thought him a busker or something. Diarmaid felt a momentary tinge of hurt pride, he wasn't some annoying street musician filling the air with screeches to make a quick buck. He’d always hated buskers in general. They populated every street back home in Belfast City and made shopping an actual nightmare.
Secondly, the reason she’d sounded so familiar, was that her accent was Irish. County Cavan if he wasn’t mistaken, the worst accent on the entire Island alongside Louth and South Dublin. It could also be one of the damned hardest to understand, tending to be thicker more often than not.
Grinning he grabbed the 500 yen bill and shoving it into his pocket he carefully put the guitar back into its case before snapping the lid shut. Grabbing his empty coffee cup he walked into the shop and put it on the counter while ordering a second latte.
Taking a seat down beside the woman he smirked at her. “Bejaysis you came in aknownt of me there nai.” he said in the thickest Cavan accent he could imitate. Chuckling he continued in his own, less confusing, County Armagh accent. “Just messing. The name’s Diarmaid, it’s nice to meet you.” he said offering her his hand. “Didn’t think to run into someone else from back home on my first day in Japan.”
Diarmaid O'Cahan- Posts : 37
Join date : 2020-06-30
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Re: Strangers in a Coffee Shop [Closed/Aine]
by Aine Hayes Thu Jul 02, 2020 3:20 pm
If she had previously been trying to slink out of sight, she literally wished herself to be invisible when she noticed the musician’s reflection in the mirrored wall behind the counter. The image was interrupted by tall canisters which sat upon a mounted shelf giving his reflection an odd flicker, seeming as though to move in stop-motion fashion toward her. ”Grand”, she inwardly cursed and lowered her eyes quickly to the menu. Looking as though she could burn a hole right through the page, a definite chill filling the air, she shifted her seat so she might hook her boots into the bottom rung of the stool. ”Ah, it’s been such a lovely day”, she bemoaned to herself wanting nothing to spoil that previous high.
Aine willed herself to stillness and hoped he would not be a bold one. Naturally he took the seat right next to hers. Her mother had warned her about stray dogs; make the mistake of feeding one and it’d be followin’ you home for sure. She crinkled her nose a bit not wishing to turn into her mother because Aine didn’t think of people as dogs. God love her mother, but the woman could put on airs like no one else. Aine was just a bit bent at herself for jumping on his song uninvited. Nothing put up her back more than having to deal with her own missteps.
”Talk about uninvited”, she mentally smirked, ”And himself sitting there, white as a f’kn greyhound's tooth.” Aine laid the menu on the counter and turned her face toward him as he made a mess of her accent. Both palms came to rest on the counter top and to her credit her fingertips did not fidget with the edges of the menu. Sitting still, especially while in an agitated state, was not natural for the woman. Even when relaxed she was not one to just lay about, and if nothing more would tap her foot or drum her fingers in boredom. Suffice it to say, defensiveness was the root of her ability to appear so at ease.
The leather collar of her jacket creaked as she moved adding a slight eeriness to the scene. That seemed to break the ice she was shielding herself within for it was a very familiar, if not comical, interaction. Her people, especially those in the rural areas, were more than used to being teased about their speech. So she responded in kind, ”Ah ya heur, it’s baaajaysis, not bejaaaysis”, having punched the first syllable as they did back home.
A bright grin spread across her face as she pivoted a bit in her seat to face him, her left arm coming round to lie upon the counter. ”Right back at ya; the name’s Aine”, she went on to say. ”Welcome to Japan.” She paused just a beat before reaching out to give his waiting hand a squeeze with her right. Then she released his hand and with a look of concern the 29 year old asked him, ”Does yer Ma know yer out without a bell on yer bike?” Her eyes drifted to his drink before flitting back to his face. Her coolness began to ebb a bit and when the waiter approached to take her order, she nicked her head a slightly to the side and said, ”I’ll have what he’s drinking.”
Knowing she had only herself to blame for this awkward situation, there was nothing for it but to carry on through the embarrassment and try to get back to her joyful mood from before. Who knew; it could turn out to be a fairly interesting encounter. As the man had said, Diarmaid she emphasized in her thoughts to cement his name, it was his first day in Japan. Surely there was a story there for the telling? Slipping her fingers under the plastic menu, she took it in hand and reached across the counter to slide it back in the stand with the others. ”What brings you so far out from home?”
Aine willed herself to stillness and hoped he would not be a bold one. Naturally he took the seat right next to hers. Her mother had warned her about stray dogs; make the mistake of feeding one and it’d be followin’ you home for sure. She crinkled her nose a bit not wishing to turn into her mother because Aine didn’t think of people as dogs. God love her mother, but the woman could put on airs like no one else. Aine was just a bit bent at herself for jumping on his song uninvited. Nothing put up her back more than having to deal with her own missteps.
”Talk about uninvited”, she mentally smirked, ”And himself sitting there, white as a f’kn greyhound's tooth.” Aine laid the menu on the counter and turned her face toward him as he made a mess of her accent. Both palms came to rest on the counter top and to her credit her fingertips did not fidget with the edges of the menu. Sitting still, especially while in an agitated state, was not natural for the woman. Even when relaxed she was not one to just lay about, and if nothing more would tap her foot or drum her fingers in boredom. Suffice it to say, defensiveness was the root of her ability to appear so at ease.
The leather collar of her jacket creaked as she moved adding a slight eeriness to the scene. That seemed to break the ice she was shielding herself within for it was a very familiar, if not comical, interaction. Her people, especially those in the rural areas, were more than used to being teased about their speech. So she responded in kind, ”Ah ya heur, it’s baaajaysis, not bejaaaysis”, having punched the first syllable as they did back home.
A bright grin spread across her face as she pivoted a bit in her seat to face him, her left arm coming round to lie upon the counter. ”Right back at ya; the name’s Aine”, she went on to say. ”Welcome to Japan.” She paused just a beat before reaching out to give his waiting hand a squeeze with her right. Then she released his hand and with a look of concern the 29 year old asked him, ”Does yer Ma know yer out without a bell on yer bike?” Her eyes drifted to his drink before flitting back to his face. Her coolness began to ebb a bit and when the waiter approached to take her order, she nicked her head a slightly to the side and said, ”I’ll have what he’s drinking.”
Knowing she had only herself to blame for this awkward situation, there was nothing for it but to carry on through the embarrassment and try to get back to her joyful mood from before. Who knew; it could turn out to be a fairly interesting encounter. As the man had said, Diarmaid she emphasized in her thoughts to cement his name, it was his first day in Japan. Surely there was a story there for the telling? Slipping her fingers under the plastic menu, she took it in hand and reached across the counter to slide it back in the stand with the others. ”What brings you so far out from home?”
Aine Hayes- Posts : 52
Join date : 2020-06-14
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Re: Strangers in a Coffee Shop [Closed/Aine]
by Diarmaid O'Cahan Fri Jul 03, 2020 12:08 pm
‘Whore seems a bit strong there.’ Diarmaid thought to himself with amusement.
He chuckled, seemingly oblivious to any awkwardness or embarrassment the woman was feeling, or at least doing her the good grace of not acknowledging it. Glancing at her sideways he smiled with amusement. “My bad, I left my Ordinary to Cheapskate dictionary at home.” he said leaning on the stereotype of mean Cavan men and women. There was no malice in his words but what more friendly way to greet someone than mock them. Besides she was no Englishman or American! She was Irish! She had thick skin.
“Pleasure to meet you Aine.” he returned as he shook her hand before visibly cringing at her use of slang. “Christ you’ve spent too much time in Dublin.” he countered instead of answering properly partially because he’d barely a clue what she was on about, she might have been asking him what he was up to or she could have been having an actual stroke. Hard to tell when speaking like a Dubliner.
As he got his latte he gave a fake sigh. “Don’t ask them to put a lick of whiskey in it, apparently it’s not the done thing.” he said pointedly not looking at the barista who rolled his eyes signally this was not the first time the Irishman had brought it up.
“Just travelling. Had some savings and such so decided to get away from my boring ass job to at least have a bit of fun before settling down.” he told her, taking a sip at his coffee. “I got off the flight a few hours back but the hotel hasn’t got my room prepared yet so here I am. So I figured some caffeine and maybe keeping my hands busy would help with staying awake.” he said tilting his head towards the guitar case sitting at his side.
“I’d actually planned to stay more central but it was tough getting a room on such short notice. It worked out alright though, the place I got is supposedly nice but I think this Karakura place suits me a bit more. It’s quiet enough to seem chill whilst close enough to the Capital if I want a night out.”
“What about yourself? What’s a fine woman like yourself doing so far from home?” he asked, turning to face her properly. If he had to guess she was a few years his senior. Probably around 30ish. “You here for work or something?”
He chuckled, seemingly oblivious to any awkwardness or embarrassment the woman was feeling, or at least doing her the good grace of not acknowledging it. Glancing at her sideways he smiled with amusement. “My bad, I left my Ordinary to Cheapskate dictionary at home.” he said leaning on the stereotype of mean Cavan men and women. There was no malice in his words but what more friendly way to greet someone than mock them. Besides she was no Englishman or American! She was Irish! She had thick skin.
“Pleasure to meet you Aine.” he returned as he shook her hand before visibly cringing at her use of slang. “Christ you’ve spent too much time in Dublin.” he countered instead of answering properly partially because he’d barely a clue what she was on about, she might have been asking him what he was up to or she could have been having an actual stroke. Hard to tell when speaking like a Dubliner.
As he got his latte he gave a fake sigh. “Don’t ask them to put a lick of whiskey in it, apparently it’s not the done thing.” he said pointedly not looking at the barista who rolled his eyes signally this was not the first time the Irishman had brought it up.
“Just travelling. Had some savings and such so decided to get away from my boring ass job to at least have a bit of fun before settling down.” he told her, taking a sip at his coffee. “I got off the flight a few hours back but the hotel hasn’t got my room prepared yet so here I am. So I figured some caffeine and maybe keeping my hands busy would help with staying awake.” he said tilting his head towards the guitar case sitting at his side.
“I’d actually planned to stay more central but it was tough getting a room on such short notice. It worked out alright though, the place I got is supposedly nice but I think this Karakura place suits me a bit more. It’s quiet enough to seem chill whilst close enough to the Capital if I want a night out.”
“What about yourself? What’s a fine woman like yourself doing so far from home?” he asked, turning to face her properly. If he had to guess she was a few years his senior. Probably around 30ish. “You here for work or something?”
Diarmaid O'Cahan- Posts : 37
Join date : 2020-06-30
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Re: Strangers in a Coffee Shop [Closed/Aine]
by Aine Hayes Fri Jul 03, 2020 2:05 pm
Aine snorted amused by his quip for the exchange was so familiar and just screamed of home. While she could appreciate the differences in her culture from that of Japan, after a while the overt politeness made a person wonder in which sleeve the dagger was hidden. Truthfully the bit of banter made her feel a little less homesick as it was of the kind you could only have with someone with a shared heritage. ”Ah, I blame the hwait times in Dublin airport. It’s like elevator music gone ear-worm on you.”
Reaching for her latte when it arrived, she blew across the frothy surface to cool it a bit before taking a satisfied sip. For her part, Aine tended to avoid strong drink because it was an ‘instant-bitch-just-add-alcohol’ sort of thing more often than she cared to admit. Still, she was not adverse to joking around and certainly didn’t begrudge drinking in others. ”Pity that. I guess a brawl will have to wait for another time”, she commented before setting her cup down upon the counter. The barista flicked his eyes her way and she just flashed him a grin leaving the man to guess if she was serious or not. Still, she did murmur compliments upon the latte saying, ”Mmm, very nice.” That seemed to sooth his sensibilities and he soon was too busy with his work to give her much further thought.
As she sipped from her drink, listening to Diarmaid regaling her with his story, the last vestiges of her chill dissipated. She found his conversation engaging and as she focused on his face she took in each little tidbit to piece together a greater picture of who he might be and what his life entailed. His admission of being in a position to leave work and see the world before settling down was very telling. He came from money, his own if not that of his family. That was at least a possibility. Was he essential enough for work that his job would be waiting upon his return to step back into, or was it more along the lines that employment in general could wait upon his need to break free?
While Aine connected dots, randomly filling out a background from little to nothing, she was aware that her investigative mind was beginning to work overtime and mentally cautioned herself to back down a bit. Even so, she sensed there was more to him that was familial than a shared nationality. Reflexively she let her reiatsu expand enough to do a sensing to which she was readily given an explanation for that odd sensation. That set her mind jumping and leaping around to all sorts of possibilities. Had he been sent for like she and her cousins? Didn’t she have a duty to inform him just how far from quiet Karakura Town could be?
Slipping from her jacket, for in truth the latte had been a bit warm for this evening’s temperatures, she let the leather garment drape over the back of her stool and then lay her left wrist on the bar purposefully exposing her Quincy Cross affixed to her leather bracelet open to view. Her Kuinshī Kurosu was pretty standard in that it actually was a cross, made of white gold, though the sacred heart at its center was a bit unique. He should be able to sense it fairly easily and letting it be seen really wasn’t necessary; a fact made evident by her own ability to sense his hanging round his neck. Of course she had made conscious effort to use her ability and hadn't spotted him out as Quincy on the street or even after until she bothered to try. The little nudge couldn’t hurt, in her estimation.
”Oh, I think you will find there is more than enough to keep yourself busy here without having to go to the mainland. Count your hotel woes as a lucky break. I am sure that after a day or so you will be calling Karakura Town anything but quiet and chill”, she said.
Before answering his question, she pivoted slightly once more so that now she was facing him more directly, and crossed her hands upon her lap with the left lying on top. It did not lie there for long for she had a habit of gesturing with her hands when she spoke and right on cue as she began to tell her small tale, it rose into the air to punctuate her words from time to time. ”Well”, she began and turned her palm upward in the air between them as though offering up her words quite literally, ”I came here with a couple of my cousins to help out his in-laws a bit. I am a freelance photojournalist so I have a bit of leeway as far as work goes. Even so, I have been able to find a few stories here and there and earn a bit of change.”
She set both palms in the air between them and laughed as she waved her hands in a negating fashion. ”Do not worry though. I promise not to make you famous or anything.” Then she laid her left palm over her heart and said, ”I swear by my mother’s heart. This conversation is strictly off the record.”
Reaching for her latte when it arrived, she blew across the frothy surface to cool it a bit before taking a satisfied sip. For her part, Aine tended to avoid strong drink because it was an ‘instant-bitch-just-add-alcohol’ sort of thing more often than she cared to admit. Still, she was not adverse to joking around and certainly didn’t begrudge drinking in others. ”Pity that. I guess a brawl will have to wait for another time”, she commented before setting her cup down upon the counter. The barista flicked his eyes her way and she just flashed him a grin leaving the man to guess if she was serious or not. Still, she did murmur compliments upon the latte saying, ”Mmm, very nice.” That seemed to sooth his sensibilities and he soon was too busy with his work to give her much further thought.
As she sipped from her drink, listening to Diarmaid regaling her with his story, the last vestiges of her chill dissipated. She found his conversation engaging and as she focused on his face she took in each little tidbit to piece together a greater picture of who he might be and what his life entailed. His admission of being in a position to leave work and see the world before settling down was very telling. He came from money, his own if not that of his family. That was at least a possibility. Was he essential enough for work that his job would be waiting upon his return to step back into, or was it more along the lines that employment in general could wait upon his need to break free?
While Aine connected dots, randomly filling out a background from little to nothing, she was aware that her investigative mind was beginning to work overtime and mentally cautioned herself to back down a bit. Even so, she sensed there was more to him that was familial than a shared nationality. Reflexively she let her reiatsu expand enough to do a sensing to which she was readily given an explanation for that odd sensation. That set her mind jumping and leaping around to all sorts of possibilities. Had he been sent for like she and her cousins? Didn’t she have a duty to inform him just how far from quiet Karakura Town could be?
Slipping from her jacket, for in truth the latte had been a bit warm for this evening’s temperatures, she let the leather garment drape over the back of her stool and then lay her left wrist on the bar purposefully exposing her Quincy Cross affixed to her leather bracelet open to view. Her Kuinshī Kurosu was pretty standard in that it actually was a cross, made of white gold, though the sacred heart at its center was a bit unique. He should be able to sense it fairly easily and letting it be seen really wasn’t necessary; a fact made evident by her own ability to sense his hanging round his neck. Of course she had made conscious effort to use her ability and hadn't spotted him out as Quincy on the street or even after until she bothered to try. The little nudge couldn’t hurt, in her estimation.
”Oh, I think you will find there is more than enough to keep yourself busy here without having to go to the mainland. Count your hotel woes as a lucky break. I am sure that after a day or so you will be calling Karakura Town anything but quiet and chill”, she said.
Before answering his question, she pivoted slightly once more so that now she was facing him more directly, and crossed her hands upon her lap with the left lying on top. It did not lie there for long for she had a habit of gesturing with her hands when she spoke and right on cue as she began to tell her small tale, it rose into the air to punctuate her words from time to time. ”Well”, she began and turned her palm upward in the air between them as though offering up her words quite literally, ”I came here with a couple of my cousins to help out his in-laws a bit. I am a freelance photojournalist so I have a bit of leeway as far as work goes. Even so, I have been able to find a few stories here and there and earn a bit of change.”
She set both palms in the air between them and laughed as she waved her hands in a negating fashion. ”Do not worry though. I promise not to make you famous or anything.” Then she laid her left palm over her heart and said, ”I swear by my mother’s heart. This conversation is strictly off the record.”
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Re: Strangers in a Coffee Shop [Closed/Aine]
by Diarmaid O'Cahan Fri Jul 03, 2020 5:36 pm
“Thanks. Hopefully it’s worth the trip.”
Rolling his eyes at her comment he shook his head and sipped at his coffee instead. It was damned good, he’d have to make sure he remembered where this palace was for later. “Brawl?” he asked with a tone of amusement. “Sure let’s just start eating potatoes, really rub the stereotypes in there.” he added.
Of course Diarmaid liked a good rough up as much as the next guy but it wasn’t like he wanted to start a fist fight in the middle of a cafe. He enjoyed a brawl but he wasn’t a goddamned animal about to ruin some strangers' fine establishment. Also he wasn’t about to punch some woman in the face for there didn’t appear to be many other people in the place, most had chosen to sit outside. Likely drawn by his sweet tunes. Or so he’d like to think.
As she removed her jacket he noticed her cross hanging from her wrist and felt a tinge of surprise. Not only Irish but a Quincy to boot, he wondered which Clan she hailed from? She hadn’t said a family name. His eyes didn’t linger long instead he put on a confused look. “Nice jewelry.” he noted “Weird place for a cross though eh? Don’t people usually wear them around their neck.” he noted flicking his own to emphasize the point.
He wasn’t sure who this woman was just being a Quincy wasn’t really enough to make one trustworthy. Besides his family was relatively significant being one of the remaining Echt Clans and he wouldn’t put it past his mother to have let some Quincy she knew would be in Ireland know her son was there and that she wanted him reported on. Wonderful mother but a tad overprotective. Also, frankly, it would be hilarious to see this stranger be unsure about whether or not he was one. He was pretty sure she’d sense nothing from him, he kept his Reiatsu under control like all Quincy where trained to so as not to attract any hungry hungry Hollow. Likewise he hadn’t manipulated a drop of Reishi in days, not since leaving Ireland so he didn’t have any residual energy on his cross for sure.
“A photojournalist?” he asked with a smile “That sounds exciting! I’m a boring shit, I was working in a boring ass data job before quitting in favour of travel. Most people do it right of uni but it took me a little while to realise it’s just what I needed”
Leaning on the counter he frowned thoughtfully. “I’d have liked a few friends or relatives to come along, I think it’d at least have made the trip here less tedious.”
Laughing at her words he shook his head. “Hell if you can find anything to make me famous go for it. A bit of fame never hurt anyone right?”
Rolling his eyes at her comment he shook his head and sipped at his coffee instead. It was damned good, he’d have to make sure he remembered where this palace was for later. “Brawl?” he asked with a tone of amusement. “Sure let’s just start eating potatoes, really rub the stereotypes in there.” he added.
Of course Diarmaid liked a good rough up as much as the next guy but it wasn’t like he wanted to start a fist fight in the middle of a cafe. He enjoyed a brawl but he wasn’t a goddamned animal about to ruin some strangers' fine establishment. Also he wasn’t about to punch some woman in the face for there didn’t appear to be many other people in the place, most had chosen to sit outside. Likely drawn by his sweet tunes. Or so he’d like to think.
As she removed her jacket he noticed her cross hanging from her wrist and felt a tinge of surprise. Not only Irish but a Quincy to boot, he wondered which Clan she hailed from? She hadn’t said a family name. His eyes didn’t linger long instead he put on a confused look. “Nice jewelry.” he noted “Weird place for a cross though eh? Don’t people usually wear them around their neck.” he noted flicking his own to emphasize the point.
He wasn’t sure who this woman was just being a Quincy wasn’t really enough to make one trustworthy. Besides his family was relatively significant being one of the remaining Echt Clans and he wouldn’t put it past his mother to have let some Quincy she knew would be in Ireland know her son was there and that she wanted him reported on. Wonderful mother but a tad overprotective. Also, frankly, it would be hilarious to see this stranger be unsure about whether or not he was one. He was pretty sure she’d sense nothing from him, he kept his Reiatsu under control like all Quincy where trained to so as not to attract any hungry hungry Hollow. Likewise he hadn’t manipulated a drop of Reishi in days, not since leaving Ireland so he didn’t have any residual energy on his cross for sure.
“A photojournalist?” he asked with a smile “That sounds exciting! I’m a boring shit, I was working in a boring ass data job before quitting in favour of travel. Most people do it right of uni but it took me a little while to realise it’s just what I needed”
Leaning on the counter he frowned thoughtfully. “I’d have liked a few friends or relatives to come along, I think it’d at least have made the trip here less tedious.”
Laughing at her words he shook his head. “Hell if you can find anything to make me famous go for it. A bit of fame never hurt anyone right?”
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Re: Strangers in a Coffee Shop [Closed/Aine]
by Aine Hayes Sat Jul 04, 2020 1:46 pm
Aine chuckled a bit in response to his remarks about potatoes but she refrained from pointing out that he was the one who had started dealing in stereotypes. She was keen enough to know it had all been in good fun. She did speak up, however, upon his mention of her cross. ”Do you really think so?”, she asked, turning her wrist over so she could look at it where it was affixed to the leather strap. Then she glanced at his cross as he drew it out from beneath his shirt and smiled. ”I suppose it would be, like if it dangled or something and got caught on everything in the world. But it suits me well enough”, she concluded letting her hand lie back upon her lap once more.
Her cross had come to her through her family, a pretty standard process as far as she knew though she had heard of some that had been found through happenstance at pawn shops or antique dealers. She’d even heard a tale about a boy who had found his lying along the railroad tracks. Maybe such tales were just teasings from her older siblings; her next oldest brother Thomas still threw barbs her way like Aine having been adopted whenever they disagreed on something. She’d just rejoin that he was bent cause mother and father had her just to apologize for the mistake that was Tommy. Family gossip had it that he was thinking about getting married but at the ripe old age of 36 she had been certain he would remain a die-hard bachelor. Whoever she was, this fabled sister-in-law to be, she was either a saint or dumb as a post.
Smiling as he commented on how her work sounded exciting, she waited until he was done to comment, ”It has its moments, that is for sure. But I don’t know. There is a lot to be said about steady work and not having to worry about finding a buyer for my work.” Still, she’d rather not be tied down to one media outlet if for no other reason than she was free to come and go as she pleased. That was crucial to being able to protect Humanity from Hollow threats.
When he leaned upon the counter, she swiveled in her seat to face forward and sipped at her latte until the rest was gone. ”Mmm”, she murmured as she finished her drink and set it back upon the counter, ”Traveling with family is nice but sometimes you don’t get much say on what the day’s activity will be.” She laughed softly and said, ”My one cousin is tied up with his in-laws and the other is much more interested in the night life than I. It’s all good though. Sometimes I get drug off to see things I never would have discovered on my own.”
All the while she was a bit disappointed that he had not given her any confirmation that he was Quincy or even had an awareness that such people existed at all. She was eager to have her suspicions confirmed and he had just given her a good reason to grill him further. ”Oh?”, she said after being told to make a stab at raising him to fame, ”I’m sure we could find something that might be fame worthy. It’s all in how you spin a story, really. If you like, we could get a few photos of you while I grill you mercilessly for information? She looked around the interior briefly and immediately decided it would be best to take this conversation on the road. ”Care to stretch your legs a bit? How much time do you have left before your hotel room is available?”
Her cross had come to her through her family, a pretty standard process as far as she knew though she had heard of some that had been found through happenstance at pawn shops or antique dealers. She’d even heard a tale about a boy who had found his lying along the railroad tracks. Maybe such tales were just teasings from her older siblings; her next oldest brother Thomas still threw barbs her way like Aine having been adopted whenever they disagreed on something. She’d just rejoin that he was bent cause mother and father had her just to apologize for the mistake that was Tommy. Family gossip had it that he was thinking about getting married but at the ripe old age of 36 she had been certain he would remain a die-hard bachelor. Whoever she was, this fabled sister-in-law to be, she was either a saint or dumb as a post.
Smiling as he commented on how her work sounded exciting, she waited until he was done to comment, ”It has its moments, that is for sure. But I don’t know. There is a lot to be said about steady work and not having to worry about finding a buyer for my work.” Still, she’d rather not be tied down to one media outlet if for no other reason than she was free to come and go as she pleased. That was crucial to being able to protect Humanity from Hollow threats.
When he leaned upon the counter, she swiveled in her seat to face forward and sipped at her latte until the rest was gone. ”Mmm”, she murmured as she finished her drink and set it back upon the counter, ”Traveling with family is nice but sometimes you don’t get much say on what the day’s activity will be.” She laughed softly and said, ”My one cousin is tied up with his in-laws and the other is much more interested in the night life than I. It’s all good though. Sometimes I get drug off to see things I never would have discovered on my own.”
All the while she was a bit disappointed that he had not given her any confirmation that he was Quincy or even had an awareness that such people existed at all. She was eager to have her suspicions confirmed and he had just given her a good reason to grill him further. ”Oh?”, she said after being told to make a stab at raising him to fame, ”I’m sure we could find something that might be fame worthy. It’s all in how you spin a story, really. If you like, we could get a few photos of you while I grill you mercilessly for information? She looked around the interior briefly and immediately decided it would be best to take this conversation on the road. ”Care to stretch your legs a bit? How much time do you have left before your hotel room is available?”
Last edited by Aine Hayes on Sat Jul 04, 2020 7:41 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Re: Strangers in a Coffee Shop [Closed/Aine]
by Diarmaid O'Cahan Sat Jul 04, 2020 4:14 pm
“Ups and downs, like most things then.” he noted before taking another sip of his hot beverage. “And I suppose you can always ditch them when you need a breather. After all, don't see them with you right now.”
Raising an eyebrow at her mention of his hotel room he wondered if she was trying to pick him up. He was too tired for that shit, although, he supposed looking her up and down she wasn’t bad looking at all but he was so tired.
‘Well if I must.’
Rolling up his sleeve he glanced at this watch, it was nearing seven o’clock and if the damn room wasn’t ready by now then that uppity receptionist would be eating his own teeth.
“Ah it should be ready by now I imagine. It’s the evening for God's sake.” he told her. “Come on, we can go check it out. I don’t want to carry my guitar around all night.”
Throwing back the rest of his coffee he grinned at the barista and threw down the yen Aine had given him earlier as a tip for the shop staff. “Cheers mate, see you later.”
Picking up the guitar hard case he gestured for the woman to follow and headed out the door, pausing of course to hold it open so that Aine could pass through in front of him. Once outside of the shop Diarmaid stopped and glanced down both ways of the street. “Uhhh...” he paused indecisively. “This way!” he said confidently as many lost men who refused to admit it had done for generations before him.
Striding down the street as if he’d walked it a thousand times Diarmaid smiled at his companion. “So what sort of information makes for a cool celebrity these days?” he asked. “I’m not really up on that sort of thing. Unless it’s wrestlers. I love some entertaining wrestling although the WWE has gone to shit. New Japan Pro-Wrestling is where it’s at these days, I wonder if I can get in to see a show while I’m here.” he paused in his enthusiastic rambling to look at the woman. “Do you follow it?”
Raising an eyebrow at her mention of his hotel room he wondered if she was trying to pick him up. He was too tired for that shit, although, he supposed looking her up and down she wasn’t bad looking at all but he was so tired.
‘Well if I must.’
Rolling up his sleeve he glanced at this watch, it was nearing seven o’clock and if the damn room wasn’t ready by now then that uppity receptionist would be eating his own teeth.
“Ah it should be ready by now I imagine. It’s the evening for God's sake.” he told her. “Come on, we can go check it out. I don’t want to carry my guitar around all night.”
Throwing back the rest of his coffee he grinned at the barista and threw down the yen Aine had given him earlier as a tip for the shop staff. “Cheers mate, see you later.”
Picking up the guitar hard case he gestured for the woman to follow and headed out the door, pausing of course to hold it open so that Aine could pass through in front of him. Once outside of the shop Diarmaid stopped and glanced down both ways of the street. “Uhhh...” he paused indecisively. “This way!” he said confidently as many lost men who refused to admit it had done for generations before him.
Striding down the street as if he’d walked it a thousand times Diarmaid smiled at his companion. “So what sort of information makes for a cool celebrity these days?” he asked. “I’m not really up on that sort of thing. Unless it’s wrestlers. I love some entertaining wrestling although the WWE has gone to shit. New Japan Pro-Wrestling is where it’s at these days, I wonder if I can get in to see a show while I’m here.” he paused in his enthusiastic rambling to look at the woman. “Do you follow it?”
Last edited by Diarmaid O'Cahan on Sun Jul 05, 2020 2:49 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Re: Strangers in a Coffee Shop [Closed/Aine]
by Aine Hayes Sat Jul 04, 2020 8:08 pm
”There he goes”, Aine shook her head in astonishment, ”walking out the door, as if…”
She blinked not even registering that the phone in her jacket was buzzing. It wasn’t until he was at the door, waiting with it held open for her, that she slipped from her seat and fished for a bill from her pocket. Laying the money on the counter, she did have presence of mind to grab up her coat, but by then the caller had gone to voicemail and it had ceased its vibrations. Taking her pack by its strap, she tucked it near as she made her way through the tables and chairs to the open area before the door.
Aine was still speechless even as she slipped the strap of the pack over her left shoulder, adjusted her coat to drape across that forearm, and stepped through the door and out onto the street. A grin spread across her face as she watched him turning about to get his bearings thinking that he was seriously tone deaf or didn’t give a shit; either was amusing.
Eventually he found his way and the two of them began walking along the street. Her mouth dropped open a bit as though she was about to say something, but he started in talking about wrestlers to which she replied, ”Uhm, no. My work doesn’t really take me on the sports circuit much. But who doesn’t know at least something about the leagues?” Their pace was pretty even, and while not what you would call a leisurely stroll, they certainly weren’t breaking any records. Aine paused at the corner, even though the crosswalk light was in their favor, then stepped out into the intersection until she was sure it was safe.
Her pace did speed up a bit then, at least till she was back on the other side, and she said to Diarmaid a bit over her shoulder, ”As for checking out your room, I am not really interested. I’ll wait in the lobby while you stash the guitar.” Then she thought to add as he came up alongside her, ”I can ask the desk clerk where to find out about the wrestling though, while you’re busy. It sounds like something that would be fun to check out.”
She blinked not even registering that the phone in her jacket was buzzing. It wasn’t until he was at the door, waiting with it held open for her, that she slipped from her seat and fished for a bill from her pocket. Laying the money on the counter, she did have presence of mind to grab up her coat, but by then the caller had gone to voicemail and it had ceased its vibrations. Taking her pack by its strap, she tucked it near as she made her way through the tables and chairs to the open area before the door.
Aine was still speechless even as she slipped the strap of the pack over her left shoulder, adjusted her coat to drape across that forearm, and stepped through the door and out onto the street. A grin spread across her face as she watched him turning about to get his bearings thinking that he was seriously tone deaf or didn’t give a shit; either was amusing.
Eventually he found his way and the two of them began walking along the street. Her mouth dropped open a bit as though she was about to say something, but he started in talking about wrestlers to which she replied, ”Uhm, no. My work doesn’t really take me on the sports circuit much. But who doesn’t know at least something about the leagues?” Their pace was pretty even, and while not what you would call a leisurely stroll, they certainly weren’t breaking any records. Aine paused at the corner, even though the crosswalk light was in their favor, then stepped out into the intersection until she was sure it was safe.
Her pace did speed up a bit then, at least till she was back on the other side, and she said to Diarmaid a bit over her shoulder, ”As for checking out your room, I am not really interested. I’ll wait in the lobby while you stash the guitar.” Then she thought to add as he came up alongside her, ”I can ask the desk clerk where to find out about the wrestling though, while you’re busy. It sounds like something that would be fun to check out.”
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Re: Strangers in a Coffee Shop [Closed/Aine]
by Diarmaid O'Cahan Sun Jul 05, 2020 3:25 pm
“Mhmm.” he acknowledged her response but really he was more preoccupied with trying to work out which way the hotel was. All these damned urban streets looked the same. Once the woman joined him at his side he glanced at her. “Hmm? Oh yea no worries. I don’t imagine it’ll take too long to check the room out and get back down to you.”
Although knowing his luck the damned elevator would be down and he’d have to run up the stairs. The place only had like ten floors max though, it was one of those small luxury hotels that seemed so popular in Japan’s cities. At least the woman didn’t seem to be expecting any action once they got back to his rooms, thank Christ for small mercies.
Stifling a yawn he glanced at his new companion. “Nah don’t worry about it. That’s what the concierge is for after all, I’ll get him to supply me with a list of that and other things I’m wanting to try out while in the country.” he assured her. “I’d rather he supplied me with a full list of events and what league they’ belong to as well. There’s this one guy, a Canadian, who used to be big in the Western arena and I heard he moved over here. Not sure if he even still takes part, dude must be some age by now, but his old shows were great. Hopefully I get a chance to catch him live.”
Eventually, whether by skill, luck or divine providence Diarmaid managed to steer them in the right direction and the hotel loomed just down the street from their current location. Sighing in relief he continued in the direction of his new temporary home whilst addressing Aine. “So if you’re here but still working have you got a long-term hotel somewhere or did you and the family book a house?” he asked “I haven’t seen much of Karakura yet but I imagine if you went with the latter then you’ve gone around the less touristy sections of the Town so far, right?.” It felt weird to call it a town, which is what the Japanese referred to it as, but really it was just one small city on the edge of the Capital which made up the greater Tokyo area.
Reaching the doors of the hotel he entered the receptionist, the door being pulled open by a doorman, causing the Irishman to idly wonder why not just use automatic doors. Was it an image thing? Give the hotel a more prestigious appearance to have a man manually dragging the doors open? The entire hotel actually had an old classical western vibe to it so maybe that was just what they were going for.
Reaching the desk he tapped the wooden counter impatiently while waiting for the man to hang up the phone and give him his attention.
“Yes sir? How may I help you.” he asked politely.
Diarmaid’s eye twitched slightly in annoyance, this was the same simpering simpleton who he’d spoken to earlier. Taking a deep breath he forced a smile as he spoke through clenched teeth. “I was here a few hours ago. My penthouse suite was not ready and I was asked to come back later. I would hope considering the cost that the room is now ready more than seven hours late. Is it?” he asked with barely concealed hostility.
“Your name sir?”
With his eye twitching again, and another calming breath, Diarmaid no longer hid his obvious annoyance. “Diarmaid O’Cahan. Diarmaid O’Cahan who left his luggage here earlier. Diarmaid O’Cahan who is renting the single top level suite that your hotel offers. Diarmaid O’Cahan who had a rather exhausting conversation with you only earlier today.”
Unfazed the receptionist tapped a few buttons at his computer before looking up. “It says here that the room is not yet ready. Allow me to go check with the cleaning staff.” he said with a nod before walking off through a door behind his desk.
Diarmaid groaned as he buried his head into his arms on the counter. He was too tired for this shit.
Although knowing his luck the damned elevator would be down and he’d have to run up the stairs. The place only had like ten floors max though, it was one of those small luxury hotels that seemed so popular in Japan’s cities. At least the woman didn’t seem to be expecting any action once they got back to his rooms, thank Christ for small mercies.
Stifling a yawn he glanced at his new companion. “Nah don’t worry about it. That’s what the concierge is for after all, I’ll get him to supply me with a list of that and other things I’m wanting to try out while in the country.” he assured her. “I’d rather he supplied me with a full list of events and what league they’ belong to as well. There’s this one guy, a Canadian, who used to be big in the Western arena and I heard he moved over here. Not sure if he even still takes part, dude must be some age by now, but his old shows were great. Hopefully I get a chance to catch him live.”
Eventually, whether by skill, luck or divine providence Diarmaid managed to steer them in the right direction and the hotel loomed just down the street from their current location. Sighing in relief he continued in the direction of his new temporary home whilst addressing Aine. “So if you’re here but still working have you got a long-term hotel somewhere or did you and the family book a house?” he asked “I haven’t seen much of Karakura yet but I imagine if you went with the latter then you’ve gone around the less touristy sections of the Town so far, right?.” It felt weird to call it a town, which is what the Japanese referred to it as, but really it was just one small city on the edge of the Capital which made up the greater Tokyo area.
Reaching the doors of the hotel he entered the receptionist, the door being pulled open by a doorman, causing the Irishman to idly wonder why not just use automatic doors. Was it an image thing? Give the hotel a more prestigious appearance to have a man manually dragging the doors open? The entire hotel actually had an old classical western vibe to it so maybe that was just what they were going for.
Reaching the desk he tapped the wooden counter impatiently while waiting for the man to hang up the phone and give him his attention.
“Yes sir? How may I help you.” he asked politely.
Diarmaid’s eye twitched slightly in annoyance, this was the same simpering simpleton who he’d spoken to earlier. Taking a deep breath he forced a smile as he spoke through clenched teeth. “I was here a few hours ago. My penthouse suite was not ready and I was asked to come back later. I would hope considering the cost that the room is now ready more than seven hours late. Is it?” he asked with barely concealed hostility.
“Your name sir?”
With his eye twitching again, and another calming breath, Diarmaid no longer hid his obvious annoyance. “Diarmaid O’Cahan. Diarmaid O’Cahan who left his luggage here earlier. Diarmaid O’Cahan who is renting the single top level suite that your hotel offers. Diarmaid O’Cahan who had a rather exhausting conversation with you only earlier today.”
Unfazed the receptionist tapped a few buttons at his computer before looking up. “It says here that the room is not yet ready. Allow me to go check with the cleaning staff.” he said with a nod before walking off through a door behind his desk.
Diarmaid groaned as he buried his head into his arms on the counter. He was too tired for this shit.
Diarmaid O'Cahan- Posts : 37
Join date : 2020-06-30
Re: Strangers in a Coffee Shop [Closed/Aine]
by Aine Hayes Tue Jul 07, 2020 7:37 am
To tell the truth, Aine was a bit relieved to learn he was just a bit tone deaf rather than trying to push some lewd agenda. Being hit upon was a frequent enough occurrence, especially in her line of work which took her to all sorts of places without backup, that she could more than handle herself but that didn’t make it anything but a chore. She really didn’t have time for a relationship and anything less was a waste of her time.
The stifling of his yawn escaped her attention as they walked about the street and as he spoke her thoughts moved swiftly into the topic of the wrestling world. His mention of the elderly Canadian prompted her to comment, ”You know, and I didn’t realize this until about a year ago, wrestlers in the US don’t even have health coverage or retirement plans? They aren’t even considered employees but independent contractors. That Roddy Piper fellow, also Canadian, didn’t have any choice but to go back to work and well, he didn’t live too long after that. It’s a much tougher sport than most people know. They don’t even get a season off like Rugby or Footballers do. I wonder how Japan treats their athletes?” She laughed suddenly, a bit self conscious of letting her inner musings ramble on that way. Going with it, however, she said, ”Who knows? Might be a story in there somewhere.”
When he inquired after her own accommodations she nodded, ”Yes, we took a house quite off the beaten path which suits me just fine." Following him inside she began to notice that he appeared to be tired. That only figured, he hadn’t been here long enough to get over the jet lag. His tapping on the counter didn’t fit in with his demeanor with the wait staff at the coffee shop earlier and she could only think his growing annoyance was grounded in his fatigue. Even so, he was getting a bit more testy than was required, in her estimation.
It was an exchange she felt was better handled in some measure of privacy, so she drifted off to the side and reconfigured her gear by slipping the pack off, donning her jacket and then just letting her pack hang from her left shoulder at her side. Her eyes darted back to the counter when she heard him mention the penthouse suite and noted the clenching of his jaw.
Scratching the side of her face, she looked about the decor only then noticing that it was like something out of an old movie right down to the doorman she bypassed when they first arrived. It was slightly amusing to Aine that places like this existed, but she knew how business savvy it was to cater to western tastes. For her part, when she traveled overseas, she didn’t want to miss out on the local flavor by limiting herself to places such as restaurants that were standard chains from her own land. A huge part of travel was to see the world and you couldn’t do that well if you only stuck to familiar territory.
She was just about ready to drag out her smartphone and check her messages when the repeated use of his own name drew her eyes back to Diarmaid. It wasn’t until the receptionist walked into the back that she approached her companion and said, ”Well that is disappointing. I hope they sort things out for you without a much longer wait. You look clearly worn out. How about we trade numbers and you just call it a night? We could meet up tomorrow and make a fresh day of it and see if I can find anything to make you famous…”
As she spoke she drew her phone out of her jacket and readily noted a voice mail from Michael. ”Sorry, excuse me a moment. Looks like I missed a call from my cousin.” Stepping aside for a bit of privacy, she put the phone to her ear listening to the playback of his frantic message.
[“Aine!” he gasped, sounding like he was running or something. “I’ve been cornered by a Shinigami. The crazy bitch is trying to drag me back to their damned Soul Society for fuck knows what type of experimentation and interrogation. She mentioned one of theirs has already killed two of ours.” he said swiftly. “Look if I don’t get home then forget me. Fucking run back to my family’s estate. The O’Donovan’s are connected to every Clan in Europe one way or another. Warn them all. The Shinigami are preparing for war.”]
Her face went white and she was going to have to make a split second decision. Michael needed help now and if Diarmaid was Quincy she needed to know it and be damned what he thought of her if he was not. Moving to his side she would reach out for his arm and all but drag him away from the counter and any potential that the man in the back might hear her words. ”I have an emergency. If you are Quincy then say so now and come with me. If not, well I have to leave and good luck with your room!” And with that she was darting for the door and Michael’s instructions be damned.
It was one thing to vacate an area and leave Hollows to Shinigami to deal with in favor of not outting their whole race to the Death Gods. It was quite another to leave her cousin at their mercy when secrecy was moot and war was on the wind.
The stifling of his yawn escaped her attention as they walked about the street and as he spoke her thoughts moved swiftly into the topic of the wrestling world. His mention of the elderly Canadian prompted her to comment, ”You know, and I didn’t realize this until about a year ago, wrestlers in the US don’t even have health coverage or retirement plans? They aren’t even considered employees but independent contractors. That Roddy Piper fellow, also Canadian, didn’t have any choice but to go back to work and well, he didn’t live too long after that. It’s a much tougher sport than most people know. They don’t even get a season off like Rugby or Footballers do. I wonder how Japan treats their athletes?” She laughed suddenly, a bit self conscious of letting her inner musings ramble on that way. Going with it, however, she said, ”Who knows? Might be a story in there somewhere.”
When he inquired after her own accommodations she nodded, ”Yes, we took a house quite off the beaten path which suits me just fine." Following him inside she began to notice that he appeared to be tired. That only figured, he hadn’t been here long enough to get over the jet lag. His tapping on the counter didn’t fit in with his demeanor with the wait staff at the coffee shop earlier and she could only think his growing annoyance was grounded in his fatigue. Even so, he was getting a bit more testy than was required, in her estimation.
It was an exchange she felt was better handled in some measure of privacy, so she drifted off to the side and reconfigured her gear by slipping the pack off, donning her jacket and then just letting her pack hang from her left shoulder at her side. Her eyes darted back to the counter when she heard him mention the penthouse suite and noted the clenching of his jaw.
Scratching the side of her face, she looked about the decor only then noticing that it was like something out of an old movie right down to the doorman she bypassed when they first arrived. It was slightly amusing to Aine that places like this existed, but she knew how business savvy it was to cater to western tastes. For her part, when she traveled overseas, she didn’t want to miss out on the local flavor by limiting herself to places such as restaurants that were standard chains from her own land. A huge part of travel was to see the world and you couldn’t do that well if you only stuck to familiar territory.
She was just about ready to drag out her smartphone and check her messages when the repeated use of his own name drew her eyes back to Diarmaid. It wasn’t until the receptionist walked into the back that she approached her companion and said, ”Well that is disappointing. I hope they sort things out for you without a much longer wait. You look clearly worn out. How about we trade numbers and you just call it a night? We could meet up tomorrow and make a fresh day of it and see if I can find anything to make you famous…”
As she spoke she drew her phone out of her jacket and readily noted a voice mail from Michael. ”Sorry, excuse me a moment. Looks like I missed a call from my cousin.” Stepping aside for a bit of privacy, she put the phone to her ear listening to the playback of his frantic message.
[“Aine!” he gasped, sounding like he was running or something. “I’ve been cornered by a Shinigami. The crazy bitch is trying to drag me back to their damned Soul Society for fuck knows what type of experimentation and interrogation. She mentioned one of theirs has already killed two of ours.” he said swiftly. “Look if I don’t get home then forget me. Fucking run back to my family’s estate. The O’Donovan’s are connected to every Clan in Europe one way or another. Warn them all. The Shinigami are preparing for war.”]
Her face went white and she was going to have to make a split second decision. Michael needed help now and if Diarmaid was Quincy she needed to know it and be damned what he thought of her if he was not. Moving to his side she would reach out for his arm and all but drag him away from the counter and any potential that the man in the back might hear her words. ”I have an emergency. If you are Quincy then say so now and come with me. If not, well I have to leave and good luck with your room!” And with that she was darting for the door and Michael’s instructions be damned.
It was one thing to vacate an area and leave Hollows to Shinigami to deal with in favor of not outting their whole race to the Death Gods. It was quite another to leave her cousin at their mercy when secrecy was moot and war was on the wind.
Aine Hayes- Posts : 52
Join date : 2020-06-14
Re: Strangers in a Coffee Shop [Closed/Aine]
by Diarmaid O'Cahan Tue Jul 07, 2020 5:09 pm
Diarmaid was contemplating jumping the counter and going into the back office to ring the man’s neck out. He was sick of being screwed over by the man, he was exhausted and he just wanted to lie down. His fantasies of vengeance were interrupted by Aine. Glancing over his shoulder he smiled wryly. “Yeah that might be a plan, I’m about five minutes away from collapsing I think. I’d appreciate having a guide around town if you’re free tomorrow.”
He paused as her phone went off and he nodded as she moved away for some privacy. “No worries.”
Turning back to the counter he resumed his fantasies of revenge while tapping his fingers upon the counter resuming the rhythm of irritation. He could hear someone at the other side of the door and straightened up expecting the receptionist’s return when suddenly someone grabbed him by the arm. He tried to pull away instinctively before realising that it was Aine. Her forwardness struck him unawares and he opened his mouth for a moment before glancing over the counter as the receptionist entered. Before the hotel employee could speak he threw his guitar up onto the desk. “Put this with my stuff. I’ll be back tonight.”
Without waiting for a response he took off after Aine with an expression of concern on his face and ran after her. As he moved he pulled Reishi to himself, the cross around his neck beginning to glow faintly as he did so, and he grabbed the rushing woman's forearm to pull her to a stop once they were outside.
“Hey wait a minute. You’re right I am and I’m sorry for joshing you around earlier. Yeah I’m a Quincy and I know you’re from the Gemischt Quincy Clan down in Cavan, the Hayes.” he told her with his earlier, less serious manner, vanished swiftly to be replaced by a more severe one. For the moment he appeared like a son of the Pure Blood and Ancient Clan that dominated Quincy activities throughout Ulster.
“So tell me what is going on? You look like you’ve seen a bloody ghost...” he paused, that didn’t really work for Quincy did it? “Well you know what I mean, so what is going on? What the hell was that missed message about and how the fuck is your cousin?”
He paused as her phone went off and he nodded as she moved away for some privacy. “No worries.”
Turning back to the counter he resumed his fantasies of revenge while tapping his fingers upon the counter resuming the rhythm of irritation. He could hear someone at the other side of the door and straightened up expecting the receptionist’s return when suddenly someone grabbed him by the arm. He tried to pull away instinctively before realising that it was Aine. Her forwardness struck him unawares and he opened his mouth for a moment before glancing over the counter as the receptionist entered. Before the hotel employee could speak he threw his guitar up onto the desk. “Put this with my stuff. I’ll be back tonight.”
Without waiting for a response he took off after Aine with an expression of concern on his face and ran after her. As he moved he pulled Reishi to himself, the cross around his neck beginning to glow faintly as he did so, and he grabbed the rushing woman's forearm to pull her to a stop once they were outside.
“Hey wait a minute. You’re right I am and I’m sorry for joshing you around earlier. Yeah I’m a Quincy and I know you’re from the Gemischt Quincy Clan down in Cavan, the Hayes.” he told her with his earlier, less serious manner, vanished swiftly to be replaced by a more severe one. For the moment he appeared like a son of the Pure Blood and Ancient Clan that dominated Quincy activities throughout Ulster.
“So tell me what is going on? You look like you’ve seen a bloody ghost...” he paused, that didn’t really work for Quincy did it? “Well you know what I mean, so what is going on? What the hell was that missed message about and how the fuck is your cousin?”
Diarmaid O'Cahan- Posts : 37
Join date : 2020-06-30
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Re: Strangers in a Coffee Shop [Closed/Aine]
by Aine Hayes Mon Jul 13, 2020 10:23 am
Already she was tapping out a quick message that she was on her way, but before she could hit send Diarmaid grabbed her arm forcing her to pull up quick. ”It’s war, Diarmaid. The Death Gods are killing Quincy again, at least two, and even as we stand here wasting time one is trying to drag my cousin off to God knows where!”, she said before slipping her arm from his grasp and hit the send button on her phone. Immediately she pulled up her GPS tracker seeking the direction in which Michael was now battling for his life. His location caused her to curse, ”Son of a bitch! I’ve lost the signal”
Shoving her phone down into the pocket of her jacket she said, ”At least I know which way to run. Come on!” Drawing her own Reishi about herself, she took off with a burst of speed using Hirenkyaku. Go back home and forget him, the text had said. Warn the Clanns in Europe...war. It was the nightmare every Quincy learned to dread. A renewal of the ancient hunts to wipe them from the face of the earth. Well there was one Quincy they would not be killing tonight, not if she could do anything about it. She much rather be dead than to tell his father she’d lost the heir of the O’Donovans.
All vestiges of the sun had long since departed from the darkening sky while they had been dithering around in the lobby of Diarmaid’s hotel. It was just as well, she thought, that his room had not been ready else she’d have taken off alone into the night to face this nightmare from their collective past. Weaving in and out of the sparsely populated sidewalks, she honed in on the last location of his signal before it had been snuffed out. A pain laced through her chest as she prayed that hadn’t heralded his death but just that of the phone.
A burst of spiritual energy went off like a bomb directly ahead leading her onward like no other beacon could do. That was assuredly Michael which boded well for his being alive but it was still quite a distance ahead. Chastising herself with silent vitriol, she drove headlong through the night hoping beyond hope that they would not arrive too late. They should never have been going about this city alone. They knew the Shinigami had been here in force not long ago but instead they had acted as though they were as safe as walking around back home. God only knew where Jessica was tonight, but she couldn’t spare the time to text her about the emergency.
The blast of energy was already fading and she strained to pick up some sense of Michael and his attacker but there was nothing further she could detect. Suddenly she was standing in the midst of the ginto blast, it’s last traces undeniably that of Michael’s energy, and stopped to scan the area. Her chest was heaving, more from fright and concern than over exertion, and her eyes darted all over the place looking at the fragments of debris that had been created by the blast. Michael was nowhere to be seen, but the fluttering of a piece of paper pinned to a standing post caught her eyes compelling her forward.
Attn: Aine O’Donovan
Your friend injured himself. I have taken him under my custody for his own safety and recovery. I will attempt to return him as soon as is safe. Your understanding and patience in these matters is greatly appreciated.
Nao Aoki
Chief Administrator
First Division of the Gotei 6
Blinking like an idiot, her mouth hanging open, she shook her head before ripping the paper from the post and clutching it in her hand. The paper shook in counterpoint to the denial her mind was desperate to make. ”Too late…”, she choked back a sob and cleared her throat. Combat zones were no place for the timid forcing her tears to immediately dry up. In place of sorrow, rage filled her heart as she sent her sensing out far and wide...but there was nothing. ”Gone…”, she muttered with an emptiness in her voice that mirrored the despair of her soul.
Shoving her phone down into the pocket of her jacket she said, ”At least I know which way to run. Come on!” Drawing her own Reishi about herself, she took off with a burst of speed using Hirenkyaku. Go back home and forget him, the text had said. Warn the Clanns in Europe...war. It was the nightmare every Quincy learned to dread. A renewal of the ancient hunts to wipe them from the face of the earth. Well there was one Quincy they would not be killing tonight, not if she could do anything about it. She much rather be dead than to tell his father she’d lost the heir of the O’Donovans.
All vestiges of the sun had long since departed from the darkening sky while they had been dithering around in the lobby of Diarmaid’s hotel. It was just as well, she thought, that his room had not been ready else she’d have taken off alone into the night to face this nightmare from their collective past. Weaving in and out of the sparsely populated sidewalks, she honed in on the last location of his signal before it had been snuffed out. A pain laced through her chest as she prayed that hadn’t heralded his death but just that of the phone.
A burst of spiritual energy went off like a bomb directly ahead leading her onward like no other beacon could do. That was assuredly Michael which boded well for his being alive but it was still quite a distance ahead. Chastising herself with silent vitriol, she drove headlong through the night hoping beyond hope that they would not arrive too late. They should never have been going about this city alone. They knew the Shinigami had been here in force not long ago but instead they had acted as though they were as safe as walking around back home. God only knew where Jessica was tonight, but she couldn’t spare the time to text her about the emergency.
The blast of energy was already fading and she strained to pick up some sense of Michael and his attacker but there was nothing further she could detect. Suddenly she was standing in the midst of the ginto blast, it’s last traces undeniably that of Michael’s energy, and stopped to scan the area. Her chest was heaving, more from fright and concern than over exertion, and her eyes darted all over the place looking at the fragments of debris that had been created by the blast. Michael was nowhere to be seen, but the fluttering of a piece of paper pinned to a standing post caught her eyes compelling her forward.
Attn: Aine O’Donovan
Your friend injured himself. I have taken him under my custody for his own safety and recovery. I will attempt to return him as soon as is safe. Your understanding and patience in these matters is greatly appreciated.
Nao Aoki
Chief Administrator
First Division of the Gotei 6
Blinking like an idiot, her mouth hanging open, she shook her head before ripping the paper from the post and clutching it in her hand. The paper shook in counterpoint to the denial her mind was desperate to make. ”Too late…”, she choked back a sob and cleared her throat. Combat zones were no place for the timid forcing her tears to immediately dry up. In place of sorrow, rage filled her heart as she sent her sensing out far and wide...but there was nothing. ”Gone…”, she muttered with an emptiness in her voice that mirrored the despair of her soul.
Aine Hayes- Posts : 52
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Re: Strangers in a Coffee Shop [Closed/Aine]
by Diarmaid O'Cahan Wed Jul 29, 2020 4:30 pm
“War?” he asked in the same tone of disbelief.
Hunting he could do but the eternal battle the Quincy waged against the Hollow could hardly be called a war. The Clans where too fractured and the Hollow where too stupid to call their skirmishes anyhting as organised or horrific as war. The Shinigami though? Yeah. Yeah they could conduct war alright if the stories were anything to go by. The Quincy though? Could they hope to conduct anything as organised as actual war? They were a group of bickering families, what hope could they have against something like that?
Biting back a curse as she set off again he darted after her with annoyance but he still let his spear flow into existence within his hand with an expression of concern and, he had to admit, a small element of excitement. He’d always wanted to fight a Shinigami; he just wished the stakes weren’t so high.
Hearing her curse he felt worry begin to creep into his heart as it all became rather too real too fast. If his phone’s signal just vanished then maybe something was going on after all. He’d sorta hoped this had all been a bad joke. “Shit you think something happened to his phone?”
Chasing after her the pair shot across the sky. As they moved more need for concern appeared as a torrent of energy roared off in the distance with the destructive force and with that familiar Quincy flavour.
‘Shit that must be her cousin.’
“Let’s hurry” he said unable to hide his concern.
The pair reached the area soon, the area looked like it had been a blast zone of a small bomb and the air was rich with pure Reishi the telltale sign of a ginto user. Biting his lip Diarmaid looked around but there was no sign of anything living or ghostly.
Walking over to Aine who was staring at something Diarmaid read the note and frowned. “This is fucking weird” he told her in a tone of confusion. “Who the fuck writes a note, signs it with a name and title or some shit after kidnapping someone?”
Turning around he looked around walking towards the middle of the blast zone before pausing and grimacing as his eyes came across something rather unpleasant. Kneeling down he looked over his shoulder.
“Aine over here.”
Beside Diarmaid, where he was kneeling, was something that could only be called a pool of blood. He didn’t even want to think about what sort of injury caused this much bleeding. “You think this is the injury the note mentioned?” he noted in a tone that indicated he didn’t believe a damn word of it.
Hunting he could do but the eternal battle the Quincy waged against the Hollow could hardly be called a war. The Clans where too fractured and the Hollow where too stupid to call their skirmishes anyhting as organised or horrific as war. The Shinigami though? Yeah. Yeah they could conduct war alright if the stories were anything to go by. The Quincy though? Could they hope to conduct anything as organised as actual war? They were a group of bickering families, what hope could they have against something like that?
Biting back a curse as she set off again he darted after her with annoyance but he still let his spear flow into existence within his hand with an expression of concern and, he had to admit, a small element of excitement. He’d always wanted to fight a Shinigami; he just wished the stakes weren’t so high.
Hearing her curse he felt worry begin to creep into his heart as it all became rather too real too fast. If his phone’s signal just vanished then maybe something was going on after all. He’d sorta hoped this had all been a bad joke. “Shit you think something happened to his phone?”
Chasing after her the pair shot across the sky. As they moved more need for concern appeared as a torrent of energy roared off in the distance with the destructive force and with that familiar Quincy flavour.
‘Shit that must be her cousin.’
“Let’s hurry” he said unable to hide his concern.
The pair reached the area soon, the area looked like it had been a blast zone of a small bomb and the air was rich with pure Reishi the telltale sign of a ginto user. Biting his lip Diarmaid looked around but there was no sign of anything living or ghostly.
Walking over to Aine who was staring at something Diarmaid read the note and frowned. “This is fucking weird” he told her in a tone of confusion. “Who the fuck writes a note, signs it with a name and title or some shit after kidnapping someone?”
Turning around he looked around walking towards the middle of the blast zone before pausing and grimacing as his eyes came across something rather unpleasant. Kneeling down he looked over his shoulder.
“Aine over here.”
Beside Diarmaid, where he was kneeling, was something that could only be called a pool of blood. He didn’t even want to think about what sort of injury caused this much bleeding. “You think this is the injury the note mentioned?” he noted in a tone that indicated he didn’t believe a damn word of it.
Diarmaid O'Cahan- Posts : 37
Join date : 2020-06-30
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Re: Strangers in a Coffee Shop [Closed/Aine]
by Aine Hayes Thu Jul 30, 2020 2:50 am
Aine hadn’t responded to Diarmaid the whole time they were in route to the empty location where her cousin had been snatched. She had been very much aware of everything he said but would not waste time upon conversation. Michael’s life had depended upon every second. His presence though was greatly appreciated and through the entirety of this mad dash through the city she had found him ready to respond and quick to take action with a level head. Feeling him walk up beside her to peer at the note, trembling in her hand before them both, she found comfort in not only the presence of another but that he was from the most preeminent Clann in Ireland. His being here would not be perfunctory and perhaps even crucial to Michael’s survival.
’Who indeed’, she internally seethed staring at the note as if desperately willing it to reveal more to her about what had happened and how they could get her cousin back to safety. Her eyes kept honing in on to whom it was addressed, her eyes blinking as she struggled to let the significance sink into her rational mind.
Diarmaid’s voice caused her to jerk her eyes away from the script and look his way with an expression of annoyance. This rapidly changed to one of intense dread due to the content of those words. Her stomach tightened expecting the worst and she quickly scanned the area before she found the strength to move forward and view what he was trying to show. She had half expected to see a crumpled heap on the ground, the dead body of her cousin. What she found wasn’t much better.
Stooping at his side, she set her hand down into the strange substance and immediately regretted the deed. It was blood. It was Michael’s blood. All she could do for a moment was to nod in assent to his query for fear that using her voice would result in nothing more than an anguished sob. "I am stronger than this; I have to be", she scolded herself.
Rising to her feet, she clenched her fist and Michael’s blood painted her palm. ”Yes, no doubt about it”, she said and took heart from being able to speak at all. Inhaling, she let out the breath and drew his attention back to the note. ”She signed it with Nao Aoki, Chief Administrator, First Division of the Gotei 6. It’s not a person at all, Diarmaid. It’s a Shinigami.”
She moved the note toward him to take if he so chose and continued on with that bit about her name. ”Look who it is addressed to. My name is not O’Donovan. Michael either lied to her about my name, or lied to her about my relationship to himself. Not very likely, why protect my family name and not his own? And if this monster knew we shared the same name why call me his friend?”, she said before ending her series of questions.
Shaking her head Aine Concluded, ”No. It’s a message from Michael to me. This obvious misinformation that he has given after God knows what brute force was applied against him. It says, ‘Aine. Think of the Clann. Give up on me.’ It repeats what his voice message did. Warn the clans of this war. That is my priority.” She wanted to vomit but instead she admitted. ”Somehow that is what I have to do.”
’Who indeed’, she internally seethed staring at the note as if desperately willing it to reveal more to her about what had happened and how they could get her cousin back to safety. Her eyes kept honing in on to whom it was addressed, her eyes blinking as she struggled to let the significance sink into her rational mind.
Diarmaid’s voice caused her to jerk her eyes away from the script and look his way with an expression of annoyance. This rapidly changed to one of intense dread due to the content of those words. Her stomach tightened expecting the worst and she quickly scanned the area before she found the strength to move forward and view what he was trying to show. She had half expected to see a crumpled heap on the ground, the dead body of her cousin. What she found wasn’t much better.
Stooping at his side, she set her hand down into the strange substance and immediately regretted the deed. It was blood. It was Michael’s blood. All she could do for a moment was to nod in assent to his query for fear that using her voice would result in nothing more than an anguished sob. "I am stronger than this; I have to be", she scolded herself.
Rising to her feet, she clenched her fist and Michael’s blood painted her palm. ”Yes, no doubt about it”, she said and took heart from being able to speak at all. Inhaling, she let out the breath and drew his attention back to the note. ”She signed it with Nao Aoki, Chief Administrator, First Division of the Gotei 6. It’s not a person at all, Diarmaid. It’s a Shinigami.”
She moved the note toward him to take if he so chose and continued on with that bit about her name. ”Look who it is addressed to. My name is not O’Donovan. Michael either lied to her about my name, or lied to her about my relationship to himself. Not very likely, why protect my family name and not his own? And if this monster knew we shared the same name why call me his friend?”, she said before ending her series of questions.
Shaking her head Aine Concluded, ”No. It’s a message from Michael to me. This obvious misinformation that he has given after God knows what brute force was applied against him. It says, ‘Aine. Think of the Clann. Give up on me.’ It repeats what his voice message did. Warn the clans of this war. That is my priority.” She wanted to vomit but instead she admitted. ”Somehow that is what I have to do.”
Aine Hayes- Posts : 52
Join date : 2020-06-14
Re: Strangers in a Coffee Shop [Closed/Aine]
by Diarmaid O'Cahan Fri Jul 31, 2020 9:54 am
“Shit.”
Looking around he searched for something, anything, that might give them another clue. Something they could act on. But aside from the damage to the area, the blood and note there was nothing. Not like there was anything they could do with that knowledge except try to take it and work out what to do next.
“Maybe.” he said but glanced at the blood. “You're sure it was him that gave her the info? I mean considering the blood and the damage… you really think he was in any state to talk?” he added hesitantly.
Frowning, Quincy let his spear flickered and vanished from sight. Chewing his lip for a moment he continued. “Maybe she was nearby when he left voicemail? Those Soul Reaping fellas can do more than just swing a blade from what I recall. The stories mentioned all sorts of magical abilities. If he said your name on the call and the Clann name perhaps this Shinigami just pulled the info from there and got it all wrong.”
Waving at the area he shook his head. “I might not have any skill with it but I know ginto when I sense it and see the effects. Your cousin tried to blow himself the fuck up rather than let that Shinigami take him. His blood is in the blast radius.”
Folding his arms Diarmaid shook his head. “Let's get out of here before someone comes along and asks questions. Pocket the note for now. We should get somewhere safe and call our families, yeah? Let them know what the fuck has happened in case this occurs in other countries too.”
Looking around he searched for something, anything, that might give them another clue. Something they could act on. But aside from the damage to the area, the blood and note there was nothing. Not like there was anything they could do with that knowledge except try to take it and work out what to do next.
“Maybe.” he said but glanced at the blood. “You're sure it was him that gave her the info? I mean considering the blood and the damage… you really think he was in any state to talk?” he added hesitantly.
Frowning, Quincy let his spear flickered and vanished from sight. Chewing his lip for a moment he continued. “Maybe she was nearby when he left voicemail? Those Soul Reaping fellas can do more than just swing a blade from what I recall. The stories mentioned all sorts of magical abilities. If he said your name on the call and the Clann name perhaps this Shinigami just pulled the info from there and got it all wrong.”
Waving at the area he shook his head. “I might not have any skill with it but I know ginto when I sense it and see the effects. Your cousin tried to blow himself the fuck up rather than let that Shinigami take him. His blood is in the blast radius.”
Folding his arms Diarmaid shook his head. “Let's get out of here before someone comes along and asks questions. Pocket the note for now. We should get somewhere safe and call our families, yeah? Let them know what the fuck has happened in case this occurs in other countries too.”
Diarmaid O'Cahan- Posts : 37
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Re: Strangers in a Coffee Shop [Closed/Aine]
by Aine Hayes Fri Jul 31, 2020 1:56 pm
Aine’s eyes widened as she whirled round to stare at Diarmaid speaking about if Michael was in any state to talk or not. She shook her head at him, clenching her jaw at the images of carnage threatened to take over. Now was not the time to give way and she wouldn’t let herself think the worst, not just yet. ”Jaaysus”, she breathed out unmindful of how thick her accent became under emotional stress. ”I don’t…”, her words stopped that thought as she realized that she might know afterall.
”I mean that’s possible. He used both names in the voicemail”, she admitted. Though Aine had been there the night Yua was killed, had witnessed Michael holding her dead body and felt the grief that came with death, this was different. It was more horrible somehow because Michael had been alone and on a mission such as this that was completely unacceptable. He should never have been in this position.
Diarmaid began talking about the ginto and what the placement of the pool of blood meant. That meant the Shinigami hadn’t lied about Michael injuring himself but Aine didn’t have room in her mind to even let that matter. They had been fighting, the Death God had been trying to capture him and drag him off to Soul Society. Naturally her cousin had tried to sacrifice his life in order to deny the Shinigami such a prize. ”That Shinigami stopped him. That means they want to keep him alive, at least long enough to get what they want.”
Folding the note in quarters, she slid it into her jacket and tried to stay focused. Fortunately Diarmaid was a voice of reason prodding her along. ”Yeah, we’ve got to sound the alarm and…”, her voice faltered a bit as she contemplated making a call no one ever wished to receive, ”...then I’ll break the news to his father.”
Wasting no time she accompanied her fellow Quincy off into the night sick in spirit and a bit in shock, numb to the emotional weight that would descend upon her once she was alone and back at the house. That big fucking empty house. Looking to Diarmaid she said, ”You should just tell that hotel of yours to fuck off and come stay at my house.” She didn’t bother saying she didn’t want to be alone. Being alone would at least let her have privacy in which to fall apart. She just didn’t want to fall apart.
”I mean that’s possible. He used both names in the voicemail”, she admitted. Though Aine had been there the night Yua was killed, had witnessed Michael holding her dead body and felt the grief that came with death, this was different. It was more horrible somehow because Michael had been alone and on a mission such as this that was completely unacceptable. He should never have been in this position.
Diarmaid began talking about the ginto and what the placement of the pool of blood meant. That meant the Shinigami hadn’t lied about Michael injuring himself but Aine didn’t have room in her mind to even let that matter. They had been fighting, the Death God had been trying to capture him and drag him off to Soul Society. Naturally her cousin had tried to sacrifice his life in order to deny the Shinigami such a prize. ”That Shinigami stopped him. That means they want to keep him alive, at least long enough to get what they want.”
Folding the note in quarters, she slid it into her jacket and tried to stay focused. Fortunately Diarmaid was a voice of reason prodding her along. ”Yeah, we’ve got to sound the alarm and…”, her voice faltered a bit as she contemplated making a call no one ever wished to receive, ”...then I’ll break the news to his father.”
Wasting no time she accompanied her fellow Quincy off into the night sick in spirit and a bit in shock, numb to the emotional weight that would descend upon her once she was alone and back at the house. That big fucking empty house. Looking to Diarmaid she said, ”You should just tell that hotel of yours to fuck off and come stay at my house.” She didn’t bother saying she didn’t want to be alone. Being alone would at least let her have privacy in which to fall apart. She just didn’t want to fall apart.
Aine Hayes- Posts : 52
Join date : 2020-06-14
Charlie Carter likes this post
Re: Strangers in a Coffee Shop [Closed/Aine]
by Diarmaid O'Cahan Sat Aug 01, 2020 7:58 am
Nodding Dairmaid, with uncommon severity, responded. “That’s likely. If she took him then he’s probably in stable condition, at worst, because they’ll need him for the information they’re hoping to get.” he told her with a shake of his head. “Not that I’ve a clue what he could tell them that they wouldn’t already know? We’re a bunch of disconnected families with the same level of organisation as my fecking wardrobe.”
Pulling out his phone he checked the time zone clock and saw that it’d be around midday back home. “Now’s a good time to be calling back to Ireland.” he told her.
Listening to her he frowned, like fuck he was going to give up his room, it was an expensive penthouse suite. He was fucking staying in it even if he had to string up the receptionist and beat him until he handed over the key. “Nah fuck that I spent thous-.” he cuts off as the realisation sorta ticked about why she might not want to go back to her house if her cousin had fucking vanished and could be either dead or being tortured like some insane medieval inquisitorial victim.
“Yo the hotel is closer than the housing districts, right? Why not come stay at mine for the night? The penthouse is fucking massive if the pictures are anything to go by. I’ll take the couch and the bed looked plenty comfortable. You can get some sleep if you want to rest up before calling your cousin’s family.”
He sighed and shook his head. “I’ll call my older brother, let him spill the news to my parents. Maybe they can figure something out.”
“Come on let’s go.”
With that Diarmaid set off, at a more leisurely pace, towards the hotel. He’d get back, make sure the huge luxury room was okay and then he’d make the call. After that he’d grab some damn shut eye himself.
//Exit
Pulling out his phone he checked the time zone clock and saw that it’d be around midday back home. “Now’s a good time to be calling back to Ireland.” he told her.
Listening to her he frowned, like fuck he was going to give up his room, it was an expensive penthouse suite. He was fucking staying in it even if he had to string up the receptionist and beat him until he handed over the key. “Nah fuck that I spent thous-.” he cuts off as the realisation sorta ticked about why she might not want to go back to her house if her cousin had fucking vanished and could be either dead or being tortured like some insane medieval inquisitorial victim.
“Yo the hotel is closer than the housing districts, right? Why not come stay at mine for the night? The penthouse is fucking massive if the pictures are anything to go by. I’ll take the couch and the bed looked plenty comfortable. You can get some sleep if you want to rest up before calling your cousin’s family.”
He sighed and shook his head. “I’ll call my older brother, let him spill the news to my parents. Maybe they can figure something out.”
“Come on let’s go.”
With that Diarmaid set off, at a more leisurely pace, towards the hotel. He’d get back, make sure the huge luxury room was okay and then he’d make the call. After that he’d grab some damn shut eye himself.
//Exit
Diarmaid O'Cahan- Posts : 37
Join date : 2020-06-30
Aine Hayes likes this post
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