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A fiery soul filled with passion, or not...; For WINDY!
Topic Started: Jan 9 2010, 01:41 AM (323 Views)
Daisuke Travis
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Nerd of all things sci-fi, including alien abductions!
[ *  *  *  * ]
Simon saes was dead.

Or at least that's it said in the mortuary when he'd 'died' at the time, killed in a car crash. In truth, Simon had been able to watch his own funeral, laughing at the idiot who'd thought that by stealing Simon's identity that nobody could touch him. Turnabouts fair play as they say, and far from pretty. Of course, being that he was declared dead by the state, Simon couldn't exactly get a job, own a home, or even rent a place to stay, and even some homeless shelters wouldn't house him, saying that 'they couldn't house a dead man, try the morgue'.

So while getting his revenge on the guy who'd stolen his life was great at first, no longer being 'alive' by the governments standards really put a damper on his mood. He'd never been much for begging, always earning his money, but without a way to prove that this piece of flesh and blood that was his body was an actual person, he couldn't exactly do much more than manual labor, and maybe be a slave.

Being a slave certainly didn't appeal to him, and while he didn't mind doing construction work, shoveling cast-offs from building and destroyed building didn't appeal itself to him too greatly. So for a few months, he did what he could to earn a living, glad that he always took care of himself before he 'died', otherwise he couldn't do any construction work, nor would he look good enough to fetch a good price when being 'propositioned'.

While being a slave wasn't his thing, selling his body for money didn't bother Simon, since he was getting paid for sex. A slave never got paid for sex. Still, there was only so much he could take before he'd snap, but fortunately, they got to him before that happened.

By they, Simon met an underground organization called 'X' that trafficked in justice, something Simon very much believed in dealing out to all those who deserved it. His being dead by government standards didn't hurt either, and in fact was a benefit to the sorts of things that 'X' did. So he tried out for taking some assignments there, and eventually he was able to work with 'X'.

Course it wasn't easy for him, being fully human and all. He couldn't bring justice to others himself, but then he didn't need to. He only needed to find out what information was needed to bring others to justice, than pass that on to those who would bring those people to justice. Even that wasn't easy, until Simon discovered a little ability that made interrogation much easier, and not so time consuming.

While completely human, Simon found that he had kind of an telepathic ability, but it only worked when somebody was about to die. He could take someone's memories from them as they died, and he could read those memories sort of like a computer would search through it's own files. All he had to do was tap into those memories and he could find out everything that person had done, and presto, justice could be dealt out!

So for 2 and a half years Simon had served as an information gatherer for X, either waiting for the target to be brought in for him to gain their memories, or killing said targets himself to gain their memories. An 'interrogation' by Simon usually wasn't what a 'target for justice' wanted, so they could either cooperate and forgo their death, or fight and die. Either way Simon would get the information needed, as X would have the target killed anyway, just so Simon could make sure that the target hadn't been holding any information back.

Perhaps as a side-benefit of his being able to copy a person's memory from their death, Simon began to be able to spot Firesouls. He couldn't necessarily see their true forms, but he could tell that they weren't fully human, even if they still looked him. It was more of a feeling that someone wasn't human, since they still looked and felt human, unless such a Firesoul wanted to be seen of felt otherwise.

All that aside, Simon now enjoyed a much more comfortable lifestyle that someone who was supposedly dead could enjoy, due to his unique talents for gathering information. So while he didn't need the money, Simon still went to the same clubs that he'd started to frequent since joining X, and he regularly sang and performed 'favors' for the clientele at these clubs for fun, and the occasional bout of sex.

He wasn't bashful at all about wanting sex, and if he was willing, and someone was willing to pay, he had no problems with letting someone have their way with him, provided they weren't rough to the point of leaving marks that wouldn't heal. He'd killed a few people who'd done just that, and their memories were safely tucked away in the back of his mind... Fortunately, nobody else could read the memories that he'd taken, only his own thoughts and memories, so nobody could prove that he'd taken other people's memories.

And tonight... Simon was feeling a bit lonely, so he headed down to a little place called La Rouge Bise, also called the Red Kiss by people who only understood english, which La Rouge Bise roughly translated meant Red Kiss. So Simon went up on stage, and sang a song that was not really very innocent, but not a slut filled song either. So as the music began to play in the background, Simon began to sing...

Link to the song Simon sings.

As the song came to an end, the crowd of course hooted, hollered, whistled, and made other sexual overtures at him, so Simon looked into the crowd as he stepped onstage, and picked out one particular person who looked quite fit, buff, and readily switchable in bed in case Simon wanted to top, and walked back to one of the 'quiet rooms' for a private audience with the man.

The only thing Simon knew after taking the man in his arm was that a sudden loud noise entered his eardrums, a fire quickly caught within the building, the blackness enveloped him as a burning support beam from the ceiling whacked him in the back. Next thing he remembers is being woken up with a jolt of pain as paramedics struggle to keep him alive. Fortunately he'd only fallen unconscious due to the impact of the falling debris, so he wasn't in any serious condition.

So he was quickly taken to the Police department, where his fingerprints were taken, putting him through the ringer of being a dead man, and he had to explain for a good 6 hours why he was dead, and alive. By the time he was finally interrogated, Simon just shouted quite sincerely that if he knew who his attackers had been he'd have had the security guards kill the assassins before getting to him.

A few hours more of interrogation and Simon was finally released, without a GPS tracker, and Simon smiled smugly at using his status as a dead man to his advantage. What was the point of attaching a GPS device to a dead man, when the government thought he didn't exist? Since the Police officers couldn't refute that argument, and even calls to the government headquarters got them the response of 'being idiots trying to keep track of someone who died in a tragic car accident many years before', the officers were forced to let Simon go without being able to track him.

Which was why Simon now headed back to the crime scene, which by now would've been completely contaminated, making forensics quite useless, hoping to meet one of his attackers at the scene of the crime. Only one attacker had been found, already dead from a shot to the back of the head. But the Police officers had foolishly told Simon that there'd been seven bullets fired from 3 different positions, and of those three people, one attacker was dead and the second was being interrogated. That meant there was a third attacker, and he likely was still near the scene, lingering in hope of catching Simon in order to kill him.

Which was why Simon went straight back to the crime scene, his long black jacket trailing behind him. The jacket was really too long for him, but since he hadn't bought the jacket, merely taken it from a dead guy, it was fine that it didn't fit him. That his shirt was also a mite small wasn't a problem either, since that was just a matter of vertical size. The shirt fit him, but was meant for a short person so Simon's mid-section showed. About the only part of his outfit that fit were his black pants which he wore, that concealed a pistol he's picked off the ground while heading back to the crime scene. His shoes were old steel-toed boots, so while ugly after years of use, they still kept his feet safe while he ran quickly over uneven pavement in this run-down section of town where La Rouge Bise used to be, now burnt to the ground.
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Tish hated nights like these.

Someone had burnt down a bar, and someone else wanted to know why the hell it had happened. Personally, Tish could hardly care less about another one of those vice-pits getting destroyed. Gang violence happened, hopefully a long way away from him. He'd been burnt once, he wasn't going to repeat the experience.

Unfortunately, the bar had owners, and the owners were NOT happy. The Red Kiss had been popular among a certain portion of the population. It was bringing in just a bit more money than the other sin pits in the area, and it wasn't a bad place to meet up with contacts, as long as you didn't mind getting sexually harrassed by drunk patrons. Tish didn't enjoy it, but he always kept an eye on whatever he drank and always managed to pawn dubious stuff onto other patrons.

He watched the still smoking ruins of the place with passionless eyes, a cigarette perched on his lips as usual. There were still some cops around, but most of the excitement had died down now. In a few weeks, someone else was probably going to build a new bar on top of the ashes of the Kiss. People died every day in the city, and yet life moved on.

Someone caught his attention as he lurked, a young guy with ill-fitting clothes (he didn't judge - he wasn't any better himself, although he did his best not to look like a hobo), who was wandering nearby. He knew he'd seen the guy before, although he couldn't quite remember where. It probably hadn't been very important.

Tish tapped the ashes off his cigarette, keeping a careful eye on the youth. He was looking for clues, maybe this one might be able to tell him something.
[I EAT CITY]
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Daisuke Travis
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[ *  *  *  * ]
Simon Saes wandered his way carefully back to La Rouge Bise, making sure that he wasn't being followed too obviously. For a moment he thought someone had been following him, but after a moment the feeling had faded away, so Simon knew that someone was trying to cover him. They wouldn't interfere with his self-appointed task, merely watch since this wasn't a mission he'd taken on from headquarters. Whoever had been following him was good, making themselves noticed very early on to get his attention, then quickly disappearing as if they'd never existed. The idea of simply disappearing from existence certainly appealed to Simon, who'd literally been made to disappear life due to government paper shuffling.

Still, he couldn't become too distracted, and so Simon slowed down as he neared the district that La Red BIse stood in, being careful now not to hide himself much at all. Nobody knew he was a member of 'X', at most people would know he'd worked at La Rouge Bise, and think he was here mainly to pick up whatever might remain of his effects from that club that hadn't been stolen yet. Pulling the shoulder of his jacket back on, Simon noted some sort of private investigator wandering nearby, slightly annoyed that such an investigator didn't think it wise to keep himself hidden.

Though after a moment's thought, why would the investigator know or think to hide? By all accounts this club, while a hotspot for contacts when you needed intel on something, why would anybody be returning to the club for untoward purposes? The club was burnt to the ground for most intents and purposes!

Still, Simon didn't recognize the guy, so he'd leave the man a wide girth as he approached, unsure as of yet whether the man was one of the assassins who'd tried to kill him yet. Carefully stepping into the rubble of remains of La Rouge Bise, Simon looked about as if looking for cast-offs that might still be usable or sellable. There was quite a bit of salvage remaining too, which could be sold to junk dealers for a pretty penny. Simon also picked up a few pieces of such salvage to make it seem like he was either a scrounger, previous worker, or both. Well both were true in this case, since any extra money that he could make made Simon's life that much easier.

He kept an eye on the lookout though, since he'd gotten the feeling of being watched again, and not from the investigator. This time he knew that whoever was watching him had to be pretty close, but obviously not very smart about hiding. If assassination was the intent, they'd have done better to shoot him in the head rather than approaching him.

Which meant two things to Simon. Either the assassin was incompetent, or he was there to interrogate Simon. If the latter, that meant that someone who suspected his abilities wanted to know all that he knew, bringing a chill to his spine. Sure, Simon knew that nobody could see into his memories to knew what he knew, unless they were his own memories, so others memories couldn't be read. But the fact that someone suspected he knew information that someone wanted without having to pay didn't bode well for Simon.

Looking around for more salvage, Simon noticed that he couldn't see the investigator anymore, and frowned. He still sensed that someone was watching him, and while he'd realized where he was being watched from, he paid it no mind, making sure to wend his way aimlessly through the remnants of La Rouge Bise. He also made sure that his aimless wandering would bring him underneath the portion of the ceiling that the assassin was hiding on, hoping to coax the idiot into breaking the floor to get to Simon, wherein Simon could kill the assassin, and gain their memories in death.
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Ah, so the tresspasser WAS a looter, after all. Tish shook his head slowly and leaned back into the shadows. The kid had probably spotted him, but he didn't care much at this time. Anyone who'd carry on rooting through rubble even though they knew they were spotted were either too dumb to be important, or too powerful to care about being caught. Waste of time to get involved, then. That, and the remains of the bar looked really unsafe.

Something stirred inside him.

He's going to kill himself. You know he is. That bit of roof's going to fall down any minute now, and he'll get crushed.

"So what?" He muttered out loud, staring at the glowing ember at the tip of his cigarette. "It's not my problem."

Ah, so you'll do nothing, then? You'll live with the knowledge that you could've helped him but you didn't?

The voice was getting really annoying now. He growled softly and turned his back on the scene. Not his problem. It wouldn't be the first death on his conscience, and he wouldn't be risking his own ass.

You don't really think that, do you. It wasn't a question.

"Damn..." Tish hissed, tossing his cig away and rushing to the stricken building. "Kid! Hey!" He called out. "Get out of there! You're gonna kill yourself!"
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Daisuke Travis
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Simon really hated it when idiots tried to interrupt his train of thought, though he wouldn't blame the person speaking for trying to save someone else's life. Still, he didn't need the distraction, as he backed up towards where the assassin was lying in wait for him, but his moment of distraction was all that was needed to sentence Simon's death warrant at the hands of his assassin. Or the salvation of his life, depending on the viewpoint.

Shortly after the other man's shouting, the roofing above SImon Saes did feel the person about to strike beginning to move, but the other man's shouting had distracted Simon at the critical moment that he'd needed to fall, twist, and fire straight up into the assassin. Now all Simon could do was try and dodge to side, no longer being able to sacrifice territory for a killing strike anymore. He'd hoped to whip his gun out as the assassin fell and shoot the man point-blank through the skull for his or her trouble, but now all he could do was try and avoid the falling person.

As it was, after only a moment's sight of his attacker, Simon saw that he couldn't have killed the assassin that way anyway, not with only a few shots to the head. For his attacker was a Firesouls, somewhat between a lizard and a rhino, having a thick bone structure all throughout its body, so even a shotgun through the head wouldn't have more than annoyed the Firesoul.

After that, Simon didn't have time to stare at his attacker, now doing whatever he could do to survive the onslaught of the Firesoul attacking him. Perhaps because he'd absorbed so many memories from other people, Simon could see the Firesouls true body, though it also helped that the Firesoul wasn't even trying to hide himself anymore, or so Simon reasoned. Regardless, this Firesoul wasn't going to let Simon live, and would probably eat him alive if it could.

Simon just tried to keep his feet underneath him, thankful that as hard as it was for himself to keep his feet underneath him, what with all the debris, that it was even harder for the Firesoul before him, whose body was adapted for rocky or relatively stable surfaces. This ruined, burnt down, and thoroughly unstable building had too much debris strewn around everywhere to give a good grip to anyone. That was probably what the Firesoul had been counting on, when it had waited for Simon, for Simon to slip up so that it could kill Simon with ease.

Still, all that didn't help Simon, and he knew well that the only places that were vulnerable to bullets on this thing were it's ears on either side of it's head, it's ass, and it's forearms. Since he couldn't very well get behind it, being only human, and shooting it's forearms would only anger the thing, the only option he had left was to try and shoot its brains out through it's ears. A very difficult shot to make when the creature is less than 5 feet from you and is out for your blood.

Simon didn't know that the man who'd distracted him was still there or not, and even if he had known, he wouldn't have deigned to pay the man any attention. With the Firesoul before him already out for his life, trying to focus on anything not directly related to saving his own hide wasn't worth paying attention to, so Simon made sure to keep a good tunnel vision on the Firesoul before him. Thus, when the Firesoul began to stagger, Simon didn't at first know what had happened, still trying to keep his footing as the building started moaning and groaning.
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"Hey!" Tish called again, climbing over what was left from one of the walls. He'd drag that guy out by the ear if he had to. Stupid kid... Some people had no sense at all. "Are you deaf or what? That's..." He trailed off.

The boy had a gun out, and there was someone else inside. How the hell did he get in here? I've been watching the place all evening! He crused softly as he caught a better view of the mysterious other guy. Firesoul, and uncloaked, too. Damn. Idiot. The guy must've been a complete rookie, or a newcomer in town. Everyone knew that Firesouls were NOT welcome here, thanks to the Wolf family's hand in the city council

Wolves were linked to ice. Icesouls weren't too fond of people who could throw fireballs.

Now I know how he got in here. The guy never left in the first place, I'd bet! From the looks of it, he's a Turtle soul. Huh, didn't know they'd come up North...

Tish flung himself down on the soot-stained floor just as a heat blast from the battle passed over his head, then rolled behind the remains of a table. He'd barely even feel the hit, but he didn't want to risk getting found out. When people would hear that there'd been a Firesoul involved, the odds of a witch-hunt being held through the city's alleys were high, and Tish had a feeling that he was going to spend the next few days laying low, just in case.

Just his luck... the scavenging kid was going to cause him a truckload of trouble. The boy was taking careful aim, but Tish could tell this was going to be a hell of a tricky shot.

Better even the odds, then.

Taking out his own gun, Tish peered over his cover. "Oy, dirt-fucker!*" He hissed, hoping the kid would have the sense to use the distraction.

---------------------------
* - Called out in a different language from a southern country where Firesouls are common. It's not exclusive to their kind, but plenty of them would be able to understand it.
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Daisuke Travis
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For some reason, Simon Saes got really when his careful aiming was interrupted by a sudden shout, knowing that the other guy was only trying to help. Why help out an idiot anyway, that's what Simon wanted to know! Course, Simon himself wasn't an idiot, but he sure must've looked it from the other guys point of view! Still the thing kept coming, and Simon couldn't keep avoiding forever, not in this restricted locale. And just his luck, he lost his footing, and the thing started to lunge at him. Something caught it's attention though, something Simon hadn't heard, nor realized was being said. Having tunnel vision applied to more than just sight, but also to hearing.

So one minute, Simon is thinking that he's dead, the next second the thing turns it's head, presenting a beautiful view of it's ear cavity. Not one to waste time wondering, Simon aimed dead center on that ugly things ear, and fired twice into it's ear. The ear-splitting cry of pain from the thing was almost enough in itself to make Simon keel over, considering the roar came from almost right in front of him, but Simon covered his ears quickly so he'd not completely black out from the sound.

Looking up then, Simon realized that the roof was not about to hold up after the fight, and the ceiling hadn't weathered that last roar too well either. Oh shit. Getting up, or staggering up really, as fast as he could, Simon tried to make his way out of the now collapsing building, but with all the debris and wounds that only now made themselves felt, after his adrenaline had worn off, Simon just couldn't coordinate his muscles enough to do more than hobble to the exit. He knew that there was no way that he could hobble his way 15 feet to the exit before the building fell atop him, but he still had to try.

A portion of his mind wondered why he was leaving now, then he realized that the thing which had attacked him hadn't completely died yet. So he readied another shot, and wandered further into the shuddering building, and put another three bullets into it's brains, while using a hand to steady himself on it's skin, so he could shoot more steadily. Simon was the only one here tonight in the building who knew why he placed a hand on his attacker out of anything but stupidity and exhaustion, but soon enough, Simon felt a rough grasp pulling him out of the building. He'd been about to cry out against such treatment, given his physical state, but soon realized that it didn't matter if he was pulled free of the building now anyway.

For now Simon knew why he'd been attacked, thanks to the dying Turtle Soul. Interesting memories that one had, which Simon would sift through when he had the leisure.. But he didn't have the time, feeling his consciousness fading into black. He wasn't dying, the darkness was too painful for that, and if he had been dying, the only thing Simon would have felt would've been the building crushing him for an instant. So whoever had saved him was putting himself into danger, not that Simon could say anything about it. In fact the only thing he could think about before the darkness took him, was that fortunately no one could sense it when he took someone else's memories from them.
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Tish had been ready for this. As soon as he heard the shot, he got up and ran for the kid. Tremors around him confirmed what he'd suspected all along: the building was going to collapse, right on top of them.

When he saw that the kid, instead of running for it, went further in to finish the job, he couldn't hold back another curse. Stupid! Useless! The roof was going to fall and crush everyone to death in any case!

He rushed to the figure steadying itself against the fallen Turtle and grabbed him by the arm. "Come the fuck on, you moron!" He growled, dragging the unresisting young man back. The boy had been hit pretty hard, from the look of it. "I'm not gonna pick you up like a damsel in distress!" Tish added. For one, he wouldn't be strong enough.

They got to relative safety in time, surprisingly, but Tish's evening was far from over. He took the boy a little further away and set him down on the cool pavement, then activated his earjack to call for help. Not to police, of course. Someone he knew and could trust, at least for a while, what with bim being the man's best client.

Hah... Tish had to refill his stock anyway. The painkillers weren't easy to come by these days.
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Daisuke Travis
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His body responding automatically as his mind entered a drained, brain-dead state, Simon ran with his unknown carrier, stumbling as he might away from the falling building. At some point the sense of urgency left his half-dead brain, and his body collapsed against the other figure, only to feel something cold, gravely, and decidedly flat underneath him. So for a few moments, Simon was completely dead his surroundings, as his body finally got to rest from the injuries he'd sustained. At about that time, Simon's mind began to wake up again, his stomach screaming for food.

"Naaagh.. Par for the course I guess? Figures that the moment I get out of danger, my body says it's time to eat, right when I can't move. God must have a more twisted sense of humor that I thought..." Able only to get that sentence out before falling unconscious again, Simon obviously isn't danger of dying yet, if he can still be cynical about a religious deity. Still,Simon needed medical attention from all the splinters and a few jagged pieces of wood that went through his skin. One piece in particular, on his left thigh, was causing Simon a good deal of pain, part of the reason for his blacking out so quickly, with the blood still flowing out of the wound.

Fortunately the rest of his wounds were minor, save that he had lost more blood from his thigh wound that was safe for a normal human, so Simon thought he was way ahead of other days. Or he would have thought that, if he'd been awake enough to allow for sentient thought.

But getting poked, prodded, and tugged on brought about a fresh bout of pain, which served only to make Simon more irritable when he woke up. That he couldn't move his arms or legs initially didn't sit too particularly well with Simon either, so of course he struggled against his constraints. Then when hands clasped on his arms and legs, holding him down with more strength than human hands could muster, Simon grew ever more irate, speaking numbly through the pain with curses that would have gotten him killed instantly, if he'd been lucid enough to not be forgiven. Given that his loss of blood had been combined with a fever during transport, his language could be forgiven, if not exactly liked.

Not that Simon knew what he'd been saying or doing, knowing only that he hurt, someone's paws were holding him down, and he felt needles pricking through his skin, and that he had one HELL of a headache. That and he still felt hungry, all of which did not help Simon to calm down. Fortunately, someone trying to help Simon gave him a mild sleeping agent, so Simon fell back to sleep, and that sleep agent was soon replaced with a protein mixture to ease his bodies hunger.

Just before Simon fell to sleep though, his incensed mind heard a familiar voice, from someone that he worked for. He couldn't place the voice, all he knew was that somehow he knew it wasn't the person who'd saved him recently. "So you found this young man being attacked by the Turtle Soul?" At hearing a halfway familiar voice, Simon fell to sleep, no longer quite so irate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(For the rest of this post I'm going to post as the man who Simon heard, who is now talking to Tish, okay windy? Don't go getting confused.)

"...So you found this young man being attacked by a Turtle Soul, is that right? Stop giving me information that I didn't ask about, and just answer me. Did you find him being attacked by a Turtlesoul. I don't need to know what you think of the kid, nor why you thought it a good idea to interfere with his mission. All I need you to tell me is if you found him being attacked by the Turtlesoul. It's a simply yes-or-no question. A Firesoul like yourself should have little trouble asking that question."
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Tish rolled his eyes at the man interrogating him. Maybe he'd be able to tell him what he wanted if he LET HIM DO IT. So far, he'd managed to say about four words before the angry jerk would go back to shouting at him.

Like he'd tell the guy anything he didn't ask for. Not for free, he wouldn't.

The man finally seemed to be out of breath. Tish jumped on the opportunity, before his charming new friend could get his second wind. He leaned forwards, fiery eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Generally, I'd charge you for this info, you know. That's what it means, being an informant. You pay me, I tell you what I saw. So far, all you've done is shout. It's not exactly a currency in this country."

Tish was in a bad mood. He'd barely been able to get his bearings back before these guys had popped in. They were probably tracking the guy somehow, and Tish cursed himself for not thinking about tracking chips. God knew he'd done everything to get his own removed.

Furthermore, they were guys he'd worked with in the past. Just for a few informations, usually, and once for a stalking mission, one he'd managed pretty well at that. Being able to fade away from view could help. It was a Lizardsoul skill very few people knew about, because Lizardsouls didn't let others find out. He'd considered doing it here, but that meant he'd have to sneak out naked and that wasn't particularly appealing.

They'd confiscated his cigarettes. That was not improving his mood.
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The Interrogator, the man who'd been talking with Tish, nodded sagely, then nodded to one of his compatriots, the one who'd taken Tish's cigarettes. Just to anger Tish the man had started smoking one of Tish's cigarettes, but at the Interrogators nod, he gave back Tish's cigarettes. "Here is payment then, for the intel you've given us." Smiling coldly at Tish, "What, did I surprise you somehow? I'm a telepath, so when I asked you about how you found Simon Saes here, the scene flashed through your mind vividly. By constantly berating you about the event, you visualized the event from start to finish. Since you provided us with what we needed to know, we'll be paying you for that intel you've just given us."

Receiving the money from his compatriot, about $500 or so, the Interrogator handed the money over to Tish. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you." Smiling coyly, the Interrogator waved his compatriot ahead, and the two of them walked away now that they had their info. It was about then that one of the 'technicians' working on Simon finished applying some 'valu-gel', a type of fast working, general healing agent that is non-allergenic, great for healing someone in a hurry without worrying about a bad reaction.

Simon soon woke up, smiling obscurely, and couldn't suppress a slightly pained chuckle. "So the Interrogator got to you, did he? He was talking to me as well. You should never let your guard down, even if you work for the same organization as me." As the medicine kicked in, Simon was better able to relax on the operating table he lay upon. "So you helped me out? Don't worry, the Interrogator only does surface scans when he's not investigating you personally. He wanted to know what happened to me, which is why he berated you like he did. Surface scans only show what you're thinking right at that moment, which is why he kept asking you about me. He wanted to be sure that what you told him aligned with what I experienced. You're clear for now."
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Tish visibly twitched at the news. The thought of people seeing in his mind... that was just WRONG. Especially since most of his job consisted in hiding as much info and being as vague as possible until his client coughed up his asking price. Telepaths were worse than thieves...

You wouldn't need to be a telepath to know what he was thinking now. He felt fucking violated, that was how he felt. Violated and afraid and angry. That was something he should've added to his flyers: will not work for mind-readers. And people thought Firesouls were bad...

He jumped when Simon spoke, not expecting the youth to have recuperated this fast. Turning around, he glared suspiciously at the boy. "And you are..?"

Not taking his eyes off Simon, he pulled a cigarette out of his pack, noting by feel that he only had two left. Damn... that idiot really shouldn't have smoked one, he thought. Tish's smokes were not... strictly tobbacco. They were laced with a little something fun. That asshole had just cost him twenty bucks, but he'd come to regret it later, when he'd realise that his whole body felt numb and that his head felt like it was trying to unscrew itself open. Served him right for trying to look smart.
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Daisuke Travis
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Simon laughed, then regreted it as he started to have a coughing fit. He managed to control himself so that he didn't start coughing up blood, which was good since he needed all the blood he could keep in himself. In a deep, baritone voice, or as deep a baritone voice as his condition would allow, he made a joke about his name. "Simon Saes, that Simon Saes needs to get his name changed. Too bad he's dead." Unable to stop himself from laughing at his joke, a bad one perhaps, but decidedly fitting within his mood at the moment, but managed to make only a few coughs before his coughing abated.

"And yes, my name really is Simon S-A-E-S. As in the child's game 'Simon Says. My last name is pronounced the same way as the game. Go figure what kind of childhood I've had with a name like that. Any guess as to who was always Simon in that game?" Simon closed his eyes a moment, trying to recollect his thoughts. "Anyway, I can't get my name changed because I really am dead, at least as far as the government is concerned. Tried sending blood samples to prove that I'm not dead, got the paperwork proving that indeed, the blood supplied belonged to me, and that I'd died in a tragic car accident. Lousy bunch of bureaucrats.."

Simon looked up at the other guy, seeing him smoking. "You know, it doesn't help my mood that you're smoking and I can't. This may not be a government sponsored mobile clinic, but the doctor's still won't let me smoke, so do me a favor, and either put that cigarette out, or give me one that won't kill me. I can smell what you're smoking, and I know I can't tolerate that kind of smokes. So go buy me one if you don't have any normal cigarettes."

Clearly, Simon didn't much care to follow the doctors order of not smoking while recuperating from surgery, though that was partly because Simon had survived many a doctors orders, even while not taking the greatest care of himself. "So you gonna tell me your name, or am I gonna have to ask someone to do another surface scan next time I want to ask your name? You have my name now."
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Tish looked down at his cigarette. Ironically enough, he smoked these because of a lung condition that, well, made him cough blood when over-stressed or hit in the chest hard enough. "I'd share, but these things cost me an arm and a leg. Unless you're prepared to pay, you'll just have to endure it. 'sides, they'll be too strong for you. I've developed a resistance over time, see..." Smirking, he pinched the end off his cigarette and put it back in its pack for later.

"Call me Tish." He added, almost as an after-thought. "It sure as hell isn't my real name, and you're not getting to know that until we've had a dinner and a date." The man joked. "'s some people out there who wouldn't like knowing who I am. Or, rather, they'd LOVE to know so they could beat me up in a dark alley or fit me a brand new pair of concrete shoes and toss me over the bridge."

That was all he was ready to tell about himself. If Simon wanted to know more, Tish was damn well ready to charge him for each question.
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Daisuke Travis
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Simon couldn't help but laugh at Tish's dilemna. "And here I thought your sob story might have some drama to it. Heh, I've heard many a story better than yours, so if you're hoping for an encore, I've got this tiny little violin for ya." Simon put two fingers together, as if playing a microscopic instrument. "I'm still a dead man, more so than you, since I really can die twice, as far as the government would be concerned. You still have a real name to claim as your own, unlike me. Far as anyone is concerned, I've just taken on the name of a dead man, to say nothing about the fact that the really dead guy simply stole my identity."

"So if you want to question me, go ahead, no one can identify me as a real person, though if you prick me, I bleed. Go ahead and ask me why I was there last night, I'm sure the question burns within you, otherwise why would you still be here waiting? I'm not going anywhere for a bit."

Simon obviously didn't care much about why someone wanted him dead, but then again, if Tish knew the real reasons why Simon didn't care, he'd not have waited around for Simon to wake up. He'd simply have slipped away quietly, unnoticed and wouldn't want to be found. Instead, Tish had waited for Simon to wake up, which meant Tish wanted to know more about Simon.
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