Ouyang nods. "I figure we should leave soon. And by soon I mean as fast as I can rig up a bomb. Blow up all the ammo, and any computers we have here. I'd also want to booby trap the windows and doors, but ha, who uses them nowadays? Could you help me?"
Hong frowns, tapping his hand on his chin as he watches the rainfall lessen.

"...I will happily help with the track covering, yet, I dislike wasting our resources by simply destroying them. We cannot bring them with us when we leave, this is true, but-"

He pauses, and clicks his tongue. "What if we sold them? Perhaps to the cyberdragon. Purchase a vehicle to make our new home base, sell off the munitions we cannot bring to pay for it. Maybe information on our mystery girl too, if she agrees to it."
 
Hong frowns, tapping his hand on his chin as he watches the rainfall lessen.

"...I will happily help with the track covering, yet, I dislike wasting our resources by simply destroying them. We cannot bring them with us when we leave, this is true, but-"

He pauses, and clicks his tongue. "What if we sold them? Perhaps to the cyberdragon. Purchase a vehicle to make our new home base, sell off the munitions we cannot bring to pay for it. Maybe information on our mystery girl too, if she agrees to it."
"We don't have a use for them," Ouyang said after a moment of contemplation. "We're fugitives. Marked. Any two bit punk will phone our faces to a hardass gunning after that lifetime AWS. I bet most black market dealers would sell their own grandmothers for even a slice of that bounty. No, we have to take what we can and wipe everything clean."

Ouyang chewed on her fingernail. "I do think getting a car would be smart, though. We do need to get out of Shanghai as fast as we can. There's a lot less people and cameras out there in the boonies, after all."
 
@Estro

Xiao Chu swallowed a mouthful and started counting to herself. After a moment she quietly put down the spoon and then continued counting on her hands, fingers flickering by like the passing wind.

"Thirty four eights and a six years old?" She questioningly said in a not-quite-sure tone of voice.
Sugaru's brow furrowed as she did the maths.

"... You're not two hundred and seventy eight, pull the other one. You said you were moving due to your grandfather's money, and anyone old enough to be the grandparent of a two hundred and seventy eight year old isn't going to let his grandkid be stolen by the likes of us."
 
"My uncle," Xiao Chu gently corrected. "He is long dead and his descendants are unfillial and unwilling to honor their ancestors duties."

She frowned. "Though in truth I should also be long dead by now so I suppose they think me a hungry ghost or something along those lines."
 
"My uncle," Xiao Chu gently corrected. "He is long dead and his descendants are unfillial and unwilling to honor their ancestors duties."

She frowned. "Though in truth I should also be long dead by now so I suppose they think me a hungry ghost or something along those lines."
"Huh.

...

Xiao, uh I'm not sure how to tell you this but, 278 years of sitting in a hospital is kinda... Mountain-squatty. From the moves you busted out back there you... might actually qualify as one of those mountain sages who spend all their time cultivating and trying to reach Immortality or Nirvana or whatever. Well, probably not in like, specific action, but you're in that... level."

Muji is too stunned to really snark at the moment. This was just a lot to take in.

"... You said my Yang qi was good, right? Could you... teach me how to use it?"
 
@THatWhichWillBe

Xiao Chu tilted her head. "Have you tried practicing an external style?"

"Lift some weights, maybe," she concluded before managing to swallow another spoon of porridge.
 
@THatWhichWillBe

Xiao Chu tilted her head. "Have you tried practicing an external style?"

"Lift some weights, maybe," she concluded before managing to swallow another spoon of porridge.
He was quiet.

"Kind of hard to practice a style with no teacher."

She had a point about the weight-lifting though. He'd never actually tried it, every other style he'd learned emphasizing internal qi above all actual physical condition.
 
"We don't have a use for them," Ouyang said after a moment of contemplation. "We're fugitives. Marked. Any two bit punk will phone our faces to a hardass gunning after that lifetime AWS. I bet most black market dealers would sell their own grandmothers for even a slice of that bounty. No, we have to take what we can and wipe everything clean."

Ouyang chewed on her fingernail. "I do think getting a car would be smart, though. We do need to get out of Shanghai as fast as we can. There's a lot less people and cameras out there in the boonies, after all."
"This is bad enough that I'm not sure getting to the countryside will help. Sure, we'll be harder to track down, but I'd expect them to find us eventually regardless, and then our options would be limited in escaping a manhunt across farmland and wilderness."

Hong chews his lip, narrow his eyes at a passing bodybuilder with a gleaming cybernetic hand. He watches until she passes out of view, then relaxes.

"Either way. Car. And stealing one would attract attention." Hong turns his helmet around in his hand.

"...I have people in the Beggar's Sect I trust with my life, even now." He nods firmly. "We could wipe the computers and hand off the warehouse and munitions to Zanggou as payment for information and transportation? I'm still waiting on Zanggou's response to my message asking for help."
 
Last edited:
He was quiet.

"Kind of hard to practice a style with no teacher."

She had a point about the weight-lifting though. He'd never actually tried it, every other style he'd learned emphasizing internal qi above all actual physical condition.
"Gotta learn how to lift, boy."

Sugaru levered a foot under one of the crates, before tossing it upwards to land on her flattened palm.

"First would probably be squats while holding this above your head. Legs are important. Cannot forgo training you legs."

Sugaru made as if to toss the crate at Muji, slyly winking at Xiao Chu.
 
"This is bad enough that I'm not sure getting to the countryside will help. Sure, we'll be harder to track down, but I'd expect them to find us eventually regardless, and then our options would be limited in escaping a manhunt across farmland and wilderness."

Hong chews his lip, narrow his eyes at a passing bodybuilder with a gleaming cybernetic hand. He watches until she passes out of view, then relaxes.

"Either way. Car. And stealing one would attract attention." Hong turns his helmet around in his hand.

"...I have people in the Beggar's Sect I trust with my life, even now." He nods firmly. "We could wipe the computers and hand off the warehouse and munitions to Zanggou as payment for information and transportation? I'm still waiting on Zanggou's response to my message asking for help."
Ouyang follows his gaze, and similarly stares at a passerby until she leaves. "The Beggar's Sect? Well, that's not... bad, I suppose." Better to leave her affiliation with the Neo-Maoists unsaid until. It would be too much to deal with right now. "That's a plan, I suppose. We do have to leave the city. Too many corporations have assets here. Either the slums or the countryside- no, we'd be open to drones there." Ouyang rubbed her temples. "Aargh. This is so frustrating.

"I'm going out," she sighed. "Scope shit out," there was a makeup kit in her hands all of a sudden, and she moves into a flurry of careful adjustments to her face, which also squirmed like there were worms crawling under the skin. Soon, she looked completely different, a fairly dumpy, tired 30 something, a corp wageslave out to get some lunch. She took out her needles too, jabbing them into certain points, leaving her meridians sluggish and dim. "How do I look?" she asked Hong, twirling around.
 
Last edited:
"Gotta learn how to lift, boy."

Sugaru levered a foot under one of the crates, before tossing it upwards to land on her flattened palm.

"First would probably be squats while holding this above your head. Legs are important. Cannot forgo training you legs."

Sugaru made as if to toss the crate at Muji, slyly winking at Xiao Chu.
He has a bittersweet smile upon his face.
"Ah, conditioning. Start with the basics, of course."

He holds out his hands to catch it, fully accepting the impending hell of training.
 
Ouyang follows his gaze, and similarly stares at a passerby until she leaves. "The Beggar's Sect? Well, that's not... bad, I suppose." Better to leave her affiliation with the Neo-Maoists unsaid until. It would be too much to deal with right now. "That's a plan, I suppose. We do have to leave the city. Too many corporations have assets here. Either the slums or the countryside- no, we'd be open to drones there." Ouyang rubbed her temples. "Aargh. This is so frustrating.

"I'm going out," she sighed. "Scope shit out," there was a makeup kit in her hands all of a sudden, and she moves into a flurry of careful adjustments to her face, which also squirmed like there were worms crawling under the skin. Soon, she looked completely different, a fairly dumpy, tired 30 something, a corp wageslave out to get some lunch. She took out her needles too, jabbing them into certain points, leaving her meridians sluggish and dim. "How do I look?" she asked Hong, twirling around.
"Slums it is." Hong says, with a firm nod. "I know how to move in them."

Hong actually takes his eyes off their surroundings to look at Ouyang's transformation. He tilts his head, and has the grace to look impressed. "Like a nobody." He says, nodding to her.

He glances back at the warehouse, and nods again. "Right. I'll come with." He says, giving a soft noise as he pushes himself up to standing. "None of us should be going anywhere alone with how things are. Give me a minute to tell the others, dump my kit, and put on some plainclothes."

Hong goes into the warehouse, and gives a short whistle to the others. "Hey. Ouyang and I are doing a patrol. If nobody's going to stand watch outside, then keep an eye to the cameras." Hong never trusted the automatic intruder recognition programs. Too many ways to get past them, and even he could do several.

Hong dresses up in worn clothes bought from a thrift store, a beanie hat, and an anti-smog mask with a kitten design on the front, and heads out to rejoin Ouyang and start the patrol with her. He's not carrying any weapons, but that won't slow down his fists and feet should the need to fight arise.
 
Last edited:
@Estro @THatWhichWillBe @Kensai

Xiao Chu reached out with a small dainty hand to intercept the metal box before it literally bashed Muji Ren's skull in, hoiting up the cumbersome object with the grace of a ill girl handling a get well bouquet of flowers, making for quite a comical scene. She gave the tall broad form of Sugaru a short amused glance. "I think perhaps it would be best if he started on something smaller."

She tossed the box into the ground as Hong entered, where it landed with a loud bang and somewhat dented the concrete floor. "Take care," she said as the rabbit man left. Then she turned to Ren. "Is he the 'other dude' you mentioned? I assume you not let strangers walk though your abode."

@dash931 @Laplace

Meanwhile, having left the strange scene behind Hong Tu rejoined Ouyang rapidly for their patrol. Even the light drizzle was beginning to fade away- no sunlight yet and the air was still muggy with the feel of rain but the city was beginning to slowly move again, albeit from a very slow start. The drunks and homeless started to wander back out of the refuges they sought from the rain and the people on the ground level responded by beating the eaves and chasing them away again. Stray dogs and cats splashed through the puddles left behind on the street, though they decidedly refrain from drinking it which is probably a smart move.

As Hong Tu and Ouyang went through their rounds they happened around a half dying neon billboard and a strange boy sitting on its top. He had the look of a street urchin, gap toothed and oily haired, with a strange mechanical brace wrapped around his left leg. He spotted the pair and then leaped off the billboard, a frightening distance above the street. But whoever had built the mechanical brace, they had built it well, for the boy let it lead the impact and it absorbed almost all of the force as the kid rolled to a stop in front of Ouyang.

He popped up with a grin and a sparkle in his eyes. "What's up lady! You interested in-" he managed to get out before an older man ran up a set of steps and begun rapidly assaulting him with a broom.

"What did I tell you above accosting people in front of my restaurant?" He yelled. "Get out of here! Shoo! Shoo!" He smacked the boy a few more times and then angrily waved it until he ran away. Only after sighing in exasperation as the nuisance was driven off did he turn an eye to Ouyang and Hongtu.

"Well?" He looked them with a grumpy expression on his face. He had the large jowled look of a bulldog, a little bit plump but in a burly fashion and his hair was cropped short, military short. "You going to come in?"
 
Xiao Chu reached out with a small dainty hand to intercept the metal box before it literally bashed Muji Ren's skull in, hoiting up the cumbersome object with the grace of a ill girl handling a get well bouquet of flowers, making for quite a comical scene. She gave the tall broad form of Sugaru a short amused glance. "I think perhaps it would be best if he started on something smaller."

She tossed the box into the ground as Hong entered, where it landed with a loud bang and somewhat dented the concrete floor. "Take care," she said as the rabbit man left. Then she turned to Ren. "Is he the 'other dude' you mentioned? I assume you not let strangers walk though your abode."
"I'd have caught it."

She turns about and takes one of the panels off a crate, rolling it up until it was a long stick of metal about the width of an average person's wrists. Spinning it idly, she tried to gauge the weight. Twenty kilograms? Less? Certainly no big struggle.
She tossed the box into the ground as Hong entered, where it landed with a loud bang and somewhat dented the concrete floor. "Take care," she said as the rabbit man left. Then she turned to Ren. "Is he the 'other dude' you mentioned? I assume you not let strangers walk though your abode."
"He's Hong. Good at, like, sneaky stuff. Acrobatic, too."

She twirled the staff of metal around her, the ends a blur, until it slammed into the floor in front of Muji, six inches sinking into concrete.

"If you want to exercise, try doing what I did. Or something like it. It's much harder to hold when spinning and at arms reach, because of leverage and stuff."

She shrugged, assuming her teammate knew the basics of excersising, and went to extract the rest of the now hopelessly abused crate from the ground Chu had thrown it into.
 
Meanwhile, having left the strange scene behind Hong Tu rejoined Ouyang rapidly for their patrol. Even the light drizzle was beginning to fade away- no sunlight yet and the air was still muggy with the feel of rain but the city was beginning to slowly move again, albeit from a very slow start. The drunks and homeless started to wander back out of the refuges they sought from the rain and the people on the ground level responded by beating the eaves and chasing them away again. Stray dogs and cats splashed through the puddles left behind on the street, though they decidedly refrain from drinking it which is probably a smart move.

As Hong Tu and Ouyang went through their rounds they happened around a half dying neon billboard and a strange boy sitting on its top. He had the look of a street urchin, gap toothed and oily haired, with a strange mechanical brace wrapped around his left leg. He spotted the pair and then leaped off the billboard, a frightening distance above the street. But whoever had built the mechanical brace, they had built it well, for the boy let it lead the impact and it absorbed almost all of the force as the kid rolled to a stop in front of Ouyang.

He popped up with a grin and a sparkle in his eyes. "What's up lady! You interested in-" he managed to get out before an older man ran up a set of steps and begun rapidly assaulting him with a broom.

"What did I tell you above accosting people in front of my restaurant?" He yelled. "Get out of here! Shoo! Shoo!" He smacked the boy a few more times and then angrily waved it until he ran away. Only after sighing in exasperation as the nuisance was driven off did he turn an eye to Ouyang and Hongtu.

"Well?" He looked them with a grumpy expression on his face. He had the large jowled look of a bulldog, a little bit plump but in a burly fashion and his hair was cropped short, military short. "You going to come in?"
Ouyang changed her walk, her entire posture. Her Jiexia no. 3 was self confident, shoulders thrown back just a bit, head tilted upwards as if nothing was quite to her satisfaction. It said "I'm the boss bitch around here. I could probably break you with a word or a fist, but because you're not worth the effort, I haven't ruined your miserable life yet." It was the standard posturing thing amongst jiexia. Here, she reversed it. She hunched slightly forward, tilted her head down to look at the ground, and exhibited a general aura of 'I have been repeatedly beaten by my managers for not taking unpaid overtime. Also I may be an unpaid intern."

Amazing, the difference it made. She wandered through the dark slums, the sun hidden as it was under those clouds. Ouyang made it to the front of the restaurant, where that kid ran up to her, buut he was chased off by the owner. Well, presumably the owner. "What else could I be here fore?" she asked, descending the stairs, and looking inside.
 
@Laplace @dash931
The restaurant is a sort of ramshackle affair, like it was carved out of a living room originally meant to be a part of someone's low rent domincile but then they decided to make a little bit of money while they're at it. There's a souppot over there, a small table covered with dust and flour over there and four wooden tables with two benches each. The old man hands over the menu.

There's are... noodles. That's it. Only noodles.

...okay, it's not like there's only one item. Though there only noodles the variety is actually pretty wide. There's Lanzhou Lamien, Daoxiaomien, Beef banmien, chaomien, etc etc. Two third of the menu is filled with different sort of soup noodles, and the rest are fried.

The bell on the door rings once more and there's a bit of tapping and shuffling on the dusty looking floor. An old man wearing a robe and holding a walking cane shuffles over. "You have room at this table?" He asks. "Can't find any other seat."

That's a blatant lie. There's only four people in this entire restaurant and one table has people at it.
 
Noodles, noodles, more noodles. "Laoban, give me a," she flicks an eye down the menu, "pork chaomien." The pork would probably have fat and lots of grease. Plenty of material to bulk up on. Also, that souppot doesn't look all that good. Maybe the pan wouldn't be good either, but at least she didn't need to see it and have her fragile illusions shattered. A lot like sausage- intellectually, you knew you were eating crap. But as long as you weren't seeing it, it would be edible.

She folded her hands and stared out at the window and watched the rain patter down on the street. It was soothing, which was why she let out a breath of frustration when the old man came. She couldn't even open her eyes and take the measure of his qi, her own dark and sluggish. "Of course," she swept out a hand. "Tong! Get your lazy ass off that chair and give it to this vernerable elder! Move your ass, man!"

Take the hint, she prayed. Stand up, you'll be faster on the uptake then, if this man attacks us in the next three minutes. Or at least until the chef finishes the food.
 
The restaurant is a sort of ramshackle affair, like it was carved out of a living room originally meant to be a part of someone's low rent domincile but then they decided to make a little bit of money while they're at it. There's a souppot over there, a small table covered with dust and flour over there and four wooden tables with two benches each. The old man hands over the menu.

There's are... noodles. That's it. Only noodles.

...okay, it's not like there's only one item. Though there only noodles the variety is actually pretty wide. There's Lanzhou Lamien, Daoxiaomien, Beef banmien, chaomien, etc etc. Two third of the menu is filled with different sort of soup noodles, and the rest are fried.
Hong is trying terribly hard not to just order one of everything.

He successfully talks himself down to three bowls and working his way down the menu as his stomach allows.

Hey, odds are he dies inside the next 24 hours. If he goes. he'll go with a full stomach, thank you very much.
The bell on the door rings once more and there's a bit of tapping and shuffling on the dusty looking floor. An old man wearing a robe and holding a walking cane shuffles over. "You have room at this table?" He asks. "Can't find any other seat."

That's a blatant lie. There's only four people in this entire restaurant and one table has people at it.
She folded her hands and stared out at the window and watched the rain patter down on the street. It was soothing, which was why she let out a breath of frustration when the old man came. She couldn't even open her eyes and take the measure of his qi, her own dark and sluggish. "Of course," she swept out a hand. "Tong! Get your lazy ass off that chair and give it to this vernerable elder! Move your ass, man!"

Take the hint, she prayed. Stand up, you'll be faster on the uptake then, if this man attacks us in the next three minutes. Or at least until the chef finishes the food.
Hong looks up from the menu to the old man's entrance, sitting up straighter as he approaches. "Hello, sir." He says, with a polite smile and a nod.

Don't assume he's an enemy. Don't assume he's a friend either, but it rarely hurts to be polite.

He arches an eyebrow at Ouyang, then gives a wry chuckle and leans over to push a chair out for the old man. "I don't suppose you can make any suggestions, sir?" He asks, rapping his knuckles against the menu. "If you've come here before."
 
@Laplace @dash931

"If you can handle your spice the dandanmien is pretty good." The old man leans over to whisper in conspiratorial tone. "But I wouldn't recommend the chaomien. The cook here learned to make them from an American - they're swimming in grease."

He drops heavily into the seat Ouyang had offered to him. "Anyway, your message." He passes back a little slip of paper that the cyborg had tied to a pigeon not too long ago. "I gave the bird to a friend if you don't mind."

"Let's talk shop. What are you looking to buy?"
 
"Oh, grease is the least of what I'm worried about," Ouyang replied flippantly. Then she was all business. "What we're looking for is a hideout, preferably somewhere in the city borders and in an electronic blindspot. We got a warehouse full of useless shit to us- ammunition and sundries mostly- that we are willing to part with." She frowned inside. She couldn't disagree with Hong taking initiative, after all, she worked with the Neo-Maoists, so it would be hypocritical, but the very least he could have done is to tell them about contacting Zangguo.
 
"Ammunition isn't exactly something we desperately need," the old man sets down to haggling. "We aren't exactly in the business of shoot folks- at least not the degree where we'd need to buy crates of bullets. Sundries are something we can easily obtain on our own."

"I'm not the boss here, but I know enough to tell you that both of that is basically useless." He raps the table twice and leans back. "Are you willing to go into debt?"

@Laplace @dash931
 
"Better than dead," Ouyang said. There was this song and dance. Haggle. Sell their skills. "You have us at a disadvantage here, I'm afraid to admit."
 
@Laplace @dash931

The old man played with his hands a bit before seeming to come to an idea. "How are you folks with babysitting? Because there might be someone who I wouldn't mind having someone watching after him. Of course room and board will be provided and the old man is no slouch either."
 
@Laplace @dash931

The old man played with his hands a bit before seeming to come to an idea. "How are you folks with babysitting? Because there might be someone who I wouldn't mind having someone watching after him. Of course room and board will be provided and the old man is no slouch either."
Oyuang Meng stared at the old man. "As good as one could be," she cautiously said. "How old?"
 
"Pretty old. But still young enough to kick anyone's ass." The old beggar grins seeing that he's got Oyuang interested. He cracks his knuckles as the noodles finally arrive. "But we can eat and talk."

One slurp of noodles later and the haggling begins.

@Laplace @dash931 @THatWhichWillBe @Estro @Kensai

Ouyang and Hong Tu slip back into the warehouse later, a deal made and a new job in hand. The small ill-girl, Xiao Chu, has long since fallen asleep leaving just five very deadly Jiexia still awake and ready to get started on a new target.
 
Back
Top