Dancing Dragon

[Li Daiyu] It was nearing midnight, and most business establishments (even in a metropolitan area like Chicago) were closed for the day. Among those sleeping places were the line of stores that dotted this particular street in Chinatown. Toward the West end of the street, however, the dim glow of light poured through the glass pane of a door marked: White Lotus Martial Arts Studio, with a handful of Chinese characters painted beneath. The dao chang's hours were listed there as well. They'd closed to the public at 10:00 pm, but someone was still inside. Someone other than the owner or any of the employees.

Hu Jinhai had given her a key. It was kind of him to do so, considering how long it had been since they'd last seen each other. Trust, once established, had weathered the years. The Akashic was only just leaving now, having spent the majority of the evening in practice and meditation. The last light inside the studio was turned off before her smallish, elegantly athletic form appeared exiting the door. She'd showered before leaving, and her hair hung dark and damp against her back, along with a green messenger bag she'd slung over one shoulder with a motorcycle helmet attached to it.

A turn of the key made sure the place was locked, then she began to walk down the sidewalk toward the public lot where she'd parked her Kawasaki.

[K. Jakes] [Awareness+Perception for starters, hah!]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 4, 5, 8, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Li Daiyu] There was certainly resonance to be found, here. More potent, more established than any of the younger awakened beings in the city. This woman was a swirling mix of perfectly balanced energy - tiger, dragon and phoenix (dynamism, entropy and stasis) all existing in harmony. The resonance was alive and quick, graceful and elegant, and most certainly lethal. Like the perfect, beautiful arc of a blade before it cut down its intended victim.
to†K. Jakes

[K. Jakes] This is an hour given to iniquity. This is an hour given, too, to contemplation; to wanderers, to vagabonds; to lamps, to precision: to cold things, and cool. This is an hour given to gambling, to fortune's perverse face, fortune's smile; to whisky, cigarettes; to drums, to burning: be it of the body (make yourself lambent) or of the mind (my candle burns at both ends [i will not last the night]). To midnight oil. Different than evening oil; oil burned at othertimes. This is a wick hour, for all it is dark, and full of shadows, and dangerous: very.

This is an hour that Kage, at least, has given to these things: also, to distraction; also, to thoughtlessness (river [take me]). The plain young woman is walking the street. That's all: walking the street, not so much because she wants to get from point A to point B, but because she doesn't want to sleep yet, because her truck is parked over the hills and far away, and this is where she met Gregor, once. There - underneath the red (like a spirit [like good luck]) bridge. Because it smells good here.

She notices Li Daiyu before she sees her. The unfamiliar kiss of an unfamiliar resonance touches her like a live wire; it gives her pause. The feel of it: an elegant end; a clean and dancer-swift finality. She sees Li Daiyu after she notices her. Just a few minutes after. There is a corner, and she takes it, and there is the woman who is also a mage, who is heading toward a parking lot which could be the parking lot her truck is parked in (but isn't [she could find it if she really wanted to]). They're going the same way.

Of course they are. Kage isn't saying anything, yet: new situation; how to approach it. That's all. Kage is a studious creature, and cautious, for all she's got a feminine lilt to her swagger, for all she is clearly, clearly composed, self-assured. Doesn't move like oh no it's dark: must get inside now.

[Li Daiyu] [Per+Awareness]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 5, 6, 7, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Li Daiyu] It was a raptor's eyes that spotted Kage, even before the elegant Akashic felt her. The bird (a falcon, but not the kind that normally lived in Chicago) swooped down to land on the roof of a two-story building across the street, and there it perched, head canted (watching, always watching) as it gazed down at the street below.

Daiyu stopped walking for a moment to glance over at the falcon. Then it hit her. Like two opposing forces blending into one: the rich, vibrant glow of life, and the hungry, withering hand of death. The Asian woman paused, contemplative, as her eyes swung in the direction of the woman with the so-red hair. There was a shrewd cast to her gaze, but nothing close to suspicion or antagonism. More like the bird on the roof above, observant of every minute detail. Careful. (Hunting? No. Just watching.) And maybe even a little curious. On past occasions she'd been a little warmer. More open and friendly. Her care now was due more to recent events (and the need to be watchful - there were technocrats about) than to a naturally cold demeanor.

But they were going the same way, and of course Kage would see her stop and look. And as the seconds ticked by, the other woman gradually drew nearer. There wasn't much for it but to say hello. And so she did. Dark eyes softened, and a small but pretty smile appeared. "Good evening. I don't believe we've met."

The accent was distinctly Asian (Chinese?), but it wasn't as strong as it might have been. She spoke English like she'd been speaking it most of her life, without the usual difficulty in forming certain sounds that might have been expected.

[K. Jakes] I don't believe we've met, Daiyu says, and it's a strange thing to say to a stranger in the middle of Chinatown at night unless you know you've got a thing in common. I don't believe we've met, Daiyu says, and it's something you say at a party thrown by friends, at a special interest class, at an occasion. I don't believe we've met isn't a line to give out to just any stranger, an unspeaking stranger, albeit a watchful one, observant, whose eyes are hazel, gray or green, whose eyes are shaded by night into a darksong thing, unnamed. Unspeaking: it isn't to say hostile; there's none of that in Kage. Not directed. There is caution, though, and a watchfulness that is kinned with wariness. Events: recent, and not-so recent. They're good reasons to explain away that (subtle [subsumed]) care. Where she learned it. Why.

"We haven't. Are you new in town?" That isn't something you say to a stranger, either: just a stranger on the street, just any stranger, in a big city like Chicago, a city with thousands of people, a city that teems with a multiplicity of crowds, that you could walk from end to end without passing every one of them. Kage isn't unfriendly; her mouth curves, slightly. There's a lilt to her eyebrows: it's half-inviting, half-quizzical.

Kage is an ardent creature: life, as passion; life, as amor, as a kiss: a seed. Just look out or her withering stares, yeah? Resonance aside: there is something demure -- restrained -- about the tired-looking, pale-skinned woman (plain) with red, red hair. Red as foxes, that. Red as heart's blood, redder. Plaited into a couple've french braids: pig-tails, the braid winds behind her ears. Her ears are pierced. Or, rather: not restrained, but: she is a composed thing.

Well, this is the moment, isn't it. Either Daiyu'll turn out to be some horrific monster, or she'll be a horrific subtle monster, or maybe she'll be a Technocrat or a Tradition mage, and maybe it'll happen when -- this: they're close enough that Kage offers Li Daiyu her hand, to shake, if it seems appropriate. Colleagues, or something kin.

[Li Daiyu] Not a monster. Not even a subtle monster. Not a technocrat (vile things - cockroaches - metal dragons - unbalanced - enemies.) But tradition? Unfortunately, yes. Whether or not her tradition in particular was more or less unpleasant in the eyes of the devoutly untethered was a question that may be answered soon enough.

Back home, Daiyu had gotten used to being a bit taller than the other women she met. She was taller than her mother. Taller than most of her childhood friends. Moving stateside had dropped her into a rather smaller category, and it was no longer a common situation that she could actually look down while speaking to someone. Kage was a couple of inches below her, possibly made worse by the addition of heels on the Asian woman's sandal-bedecked feet. Daiyu's smile widened as the stranger offered her hand in greeting, and there was a little of a pleased sparkle there in her soft near-black eyes. She took the offered hand in her own, gripping with a warm firmness. Daiyu's hands looked delicate, but the skin was a little rough (work-worn, or maybe battle-worn).

"Fairly new, yes. I've met a few of you. Carter. Israel. Nathan. Ashley. A few others. But they've only been brief meetings. Chance encounters... like you. My name is Li Daiyu, of the Akashic Brotherhood."

Her eyes flickered to the braids in Kage's hair, drawn there like a moth to fire. Red was an exotic color. Much like Ashley's blue eyes, though that was something that Daiyu had gotten used to by now. "You have lovely hair. I'm envious." (No, of course not truly so. Envy was base. An earthly sin, and a foolish one.)

[K. Jakes] Touch is an important sense. Li Daiyu's hand is a little rough. Kage's fingertips are a little callused. The edge of her palm, too: but it's subtle. This requires mindfulness to notice: most people do not. Her chin tilts up, but only the better to meet Daiyu's eyes while they converse; it isn't out of misplaced pride (but well-placed, maybe?). The first name the Akashic mentions doesn't mean anything at all to the Orphan. The other three do. There's that to read, too. Kage has expressive eyes, albeit occasionally they express themselves in a language other people [mages (spirits)] find difficult to fix [as if she was a map, a constellation-chart: ha. As if there wasn't something that occluded what she thought, sometimes; like water, see: clear, but wait, wait, what's that?].

"I know three out of the four." The Asian woman is an Akashic, and as it happens, Kage hasn't met very many Akashic Brothers in the course of her Awakened life, and she hasn't actually spoken to any, not at any great length: hell, probably not more than half-an-hour. Her gaze takes on an interested gleam. "Thank you. You have a lovely walk." A compliment for a compliment, see. And: "I'm Kage. Li Daiyu: that sounds unusual to me; where does it break? What should I call you?" And then, "I'm not very familiar with your tradition."

They're standing in the lamp-light. The lamp-light cuts down to the earth: clean, a definition. Does spark fire in Kage's hair, just like it draws some candescence from Li Daiyu's skin: just like it makes the shadows that much darker, that much more multilayered.

The strange mage has said she's only had brief encounters, chance encounters before, and Kage, although she isn't who anybody would pick out as the Friendly Mage, or the Welcome Wagon, or anything like that -- no -- says, mouth quirking, sparking, just-a-second, something not quite rueful: "Chance encounters happen often; would you like to get some tea?"


[Li Daiyu] The Akashic had introduced herself to a handful of people over the past week, but Kage was the first among them to ask for any clarification. Perhaps the others were familiar enough with Eastern customs they they simply didn't need to. More likely, they were either too ignorant to realize that there may be differences, or they simply weren't certain if such a question would be considered impolite. Whatever the reason, Daiyu hadn't had cause to clarify her name before. Certainly she suspected that such clarification might be required, in some cases, but that was the thing, you see, about Akashics. They tended not to offer information without being directly asked.

Nathan had floundered a bit while talking to her in precisely this same location. He might have been surprised to see how easily the Chinese woman offered up this information, once asked. She laughed gently when Kage returned her compliment - a charmingly friendly sound. She could be cold, this human weapon. When she needed to be. But now was not that time.

"Thank you. Li is my surname. In China, we use the surname for formal address, when speaking with someone we don't know well, or who would not be considered a peer, so Li would be the correct name to use, but I won't be offended if you prefer the given name. In either case, if we get to know each other, you can call me Daiyu. If you're curious about Akashic naming convention... many of us also go by a different name, given when we join the tradition. Mine is Dancing Dragon, in english, but I only use it in certain occasions."

Kage had asked for information, and she'd certainly received it. Possibly more than she was expecting. But then... there was an offer of tea, and Daiyu's face actually lit up. "I would love to. Thank you."

[K. Jakes] The redhaired Orphan's inclination is toward [black (smoky)] English tea tonight. Jasmine will do: something delicate, something green; something that tastes to the tongue like the delicate notes of a heavenly song un-done and un-laced. It's too late for respectable places to still be open. That leaves the dens of iniquity or the 24-hour holes-in-the-wall, pits-in-the-wall, where neon signs light up the carcasses of ducks turning in the window, and red paper tied up in twists frames a window covered in signs and advertisement and there's only one seat or two, and those very near to boxes. Still: K. Jakes considers for a moment where to get tea at this hour, and she can think of a den of iniquity that serves good tea and a hole-in-the-wall that does as well.

"There's a place about a block over: Number One Lucky Emperor?" That's a suggestion. "Do you need to move your car?" Kage, see, is courteous and thoughtful; at least, obsevant. And she also doesn't mind getting more information than she'd perhaps expected; isn't one of those people who looks disdainful when someone explains more aspects of an answer than politeness would've required.

And, "Dancing Dragon." Fixing it in memory: "What is your name in Chinese? Is it a name you earned, or a name you were assigned? What occasions is it appropriate to use it?" Pause, then: a smile, easy, like smoke unlacing in the air - "If my questions start to border on rude, just let me know and I'll cut back on them."

[Li Daiyu] "That sounds as good a place as any," she replied, apparently easy enough to please. It wasn't that she lacked standards (far from it), but Daiyu would have been equally content to sip well-prepared tea while sitting on a cardboard box as she might be in a fine temple. These things were of no real consequence. And when Kage asked about her car, Daiyu turned to the side so that the reflective sheen of her motorcycle helmet could be seen. A correction of sorts. It hung from the strap of her messenger bag, clipped into place for ease of transport. "I'm paid up for a few hours yet."

So the pair of them walked toward their intended destination, the red-haired orphan and the black-haired Akashic. By now Daiyu's hair was beginning to dry, and she ran a hand through it a few times, breaking apart the strands into a softer, more silky state.

"Wu Dao Long," she replied easily to the question regarding her alternate title. "I use it among other Akashics, when necessary. Some are more tradition-bound than others. I also use it with enemies. Sometimes a name is required, but a surface name is better than a true name. The connection is less, so it holds less power."

Judging by the way she explained it, and by the way she gave a little roll of her eyes when she mentioned how tradition-bound other Akashics could be, it seemed a fair estimation that Daiyu wasn't the sort of person who liked titles. They had their uses, but not for every-day interaction.

"You can ask whatever you like. If I don't wish to answer, I won't." The Akashic arched her brow knowingly (mysterious.)

[K. Jakes] This always interests her. The word: enemies. What it means to one of the Awakened. Specifically, and now, now that there is an uneasy ceasefire, now that there is an uneasy [Cold War (get your weapons in order)] truce. Kage wasn't around, back in the before; she's only heard tales from her almost-mentor, from other Traditionalists, possibly from a Conventionalist, too -- Kage holds herself apart; Kage holds herself, neutral, careful, aloof.

Wouldn't know it now. Most people don't: not at first. Because Kage is a courteous creature, and an interested one, and she doesn't look at a person like they're a block to step back from, like they're bad news (per se). Because she is not unfriendly. Kage's eyes crinkle at the corners when she smiles: thus. "What brought you to Chicago? Are you glad to have -- " a beat, a gesture: speak with your hands. " -- moved on from where ever you're coming from?"

[Li Daiyu] Neutrality. That was an interesting word as well. Could one ever claim it completely? Would one want to?

Daiyu had yet to explain to the orphan that she wasn't just your run-of-the-mill Akashic. She was not a monk, or a scholar. She couldn't claim asceticism. She did not live on a remote mountain peak, spending her days in constant meditation. All of these things she had experienced to a degree, but she had claimed none of them. Li Daiyu was a soldier. No, a warrior. The old word fit because it was an old role, and she'd been playing it through more lives than just the one she currently embodied. Whether this made her a good Akashic or not was open to debate. Whether it made her a good person was even moreso.

But one thing could be certain. She was not, nor would she ever be... neutral.

She could still be aloof, on occasion.

Kage asked about how and why she'd arrived in Chicago. Daiyu was quiet for a moment as she contemplated a response. The sound of their mutual footsteps made quiet echoes into the stillness of the night. Daiyu's were barely audible, despite the heels. She walked like a cat.

"A new journey presented itself. And yes... I suppose I am glad." Not because of regret (though she had some of that), but because new beginnings always had a revitalizing effect upon her. The sense that there was a road ahead, and that she had somewhere to go - something to push towards.

"And you? How long have you lived here?"

[K. Jakes] [and you know? since I never get to roll this in Mage: does Kage walk quiet-like, too? Dex+Stealth!]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 5, 7, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[K. Jakes] The Orphan is - on occasion - quiet. The same sort've quiet as a fall of moonlight; the same sort've quiet as smoke; a silent movie film reel, shadow and light: a picture that isn't tangible, has no weight, but is in fact a whole world. This is one've those occasions. Now, if Li Daiyu were Margot, or Janet, or Cathy, her mother or one of her friends, one of her work aquaintances, they might startle: Jesus, Kage. The fuck? And she'd say, What? Didn't mean to walk like a secret. And they'd say, Gagh, scared the devil out of me, and she'd smirk, or grin, say, Well good. Devil's probably not comfortable on the heart.

But this is Li Daiyu: they are quiet. The Akashic and the Orphan (she did not call herself an Orphan [she never calls herself an Orphan]). "How did it present itself?" she asks, and, mouth crooked, candescence limited: internalized: "Do you miss the old?"

And you, Daiyu says, and Kage makes a contemplative sound. "I returned to Chicago last year, mid-Summer. But my family lives here; they grew here."

[Li Daiyu] Daiyu wouldn't have startled, even had she been surprised, but Kage probably suspected as much. She possessed a hunter's control, this elegant, lethal creature. More than that, she had more than one pair of eyes to rely on. That helped to ensure that she was seldom caught off guard. There was no better scout than a falcon. Even perched high above, the tiniest details could be picked out.

The bird wasn't being obvious about itself, so perhaps she would remain unnoticed for the evening. At the least - on the periphery. Such was where she usually resided, until such time as involvement might be deemed necessary. Or until she got hungry and went to hunt for pigeons. Whichever came first.

Other than the shoes (they were a vice, nice looking shoes - impractical, but they made her feet look lovely and highlighted the beautiful curve of dancer's legs), she was dressed plainly tonight, in a pair of form-hugging jeans (dark blue) and a likewise fitted t-shirt (black.) The small pendent of black jade which she always carried with her was tucked neatly against her skin, out of sight. So was the elaborate tattoo on her back.

They neared their hole-in-the-wall destination, and Kage asked for more detail. Ever a curious creature, she did not let ambiguous answers lie still. "I was traveling, and stopped here. The Joffrey Ballet was holding auditions. I got a job, so I stayed." There was a long bit silence before she answered the next question. "I miss some of them." Which meant that Chicago was not the first new home that she'd had over the course of her life.

"You must know the city well, then. You'll have to show me around, some day."

[K. Jakes] [les pause!]