Cyadical
Danyel
AwesomeZero5
Auz
Nyxella
Zombiedude101
Mixtape Ghost N
autumoon
Estylwen
「 In Motion 」
@Mr Allen J
DOVE Rally | Regal Square, Prince Ed-Field_Similar to Meifeng, Shizuka was also part of the undercover squad, though less for the patrol work and more for the free food! This time, he tried to dress less casually: a dark midnight-blue coat with a lightweight RAVEN armor hidden underneath the nice clothes, still jeans but with boots instead of the usual sneakers. He had mentally turned off Reed's speech - not because the newly appointed director of DOVE was boring, but Shizuka had other things in mind.
Things that made this rally a waste of everybody's time unimportant, as far as he was concerned.
He could care less about his reputation among some of his co-workers as a professional slacker off desk work - he was never an office nerd anyway - but he did earn his place as the head of the intelligence department at his age. Promotion that came with both pros and cons. For one, he could take the necessary actions more promptly without having to wait for the retardedly long chain of command to reach him - just like old times - but it also came with much bigger responsibilities. A heavier burden to bear.
Intel was the thing that could make or break an organization like DOVE/RAVEN. With useful and timely information, they would be able to plan ahead and think of better strategies to save the situation; red herrings could potentially send everyone to an early death.
How troublesome.
Work woes aside, there was another reason for putting his mind elsewhere. Something more personal.
It had been a long time since he last saw - or even contacted - his twin, Haruka. He had hoped that his brother had been well, wondering when he would be coming back to Baybridge. That he wasn't giving Jennifer Caspin unnecessary troubles (and vice versa, of course).
Now that he was through with the main course, time for some desserts!
He made his way through the crowd towards the cake area. There were your standard, conventional fancy ones, but also the less appealing and funny-looking types. Well, it wouldn't hurt to give them a try - just a small piece for tasting.
As he went for the funnel cake, he bumped into a someone. A really tall man who was probably younger than Shizuka, but the height difference could easily reverse that around. Shizuka muttered a quick apology, but stopped to stare at this person.
"You look familiar..." Shizuka trailed off, then it clicked in his mind. "I think I've seen you somewhere before? With Quent - I mean Quentin Taylor."
One year ago | Somewhere in Ginza, Tokyo_The most expensive district in the already costly city, Ginza was truly decked out with overpriced goods and services, reeking of filthy rich snobs drowning themselves in tobacco and booze. Fancy-looking shops and restaurants lined the street with bright lights that truly lived up to the nightlife of Tokyo, but that would be incomplete without a pretty hostess in your arms as you wobbled out from the red district, with numerous host clubs that could provide all the 'extra services' you would need as long as you had the money to pay for them.
Even with Japan being a country with one of the lowest crime rates in the world, that didn't mean zero crimes. Not in such a place where too much money, alcohol - even sex - were involved. Beneath all the materialistic glamor and sinful desires, that was where the darker truth lies. Law and justice had no place here; the underworld had their own set of rules, far more severe than some hypocritical court punishments. Especially when the stakes were much higher... where loyalty and trust would be tested to their literal limit.
Dealing with numerous classified information and intelligence exchange for as long as his time with RAVEN, Shizuka was fully aware of the danger in his field of work. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if he had been marked by various organizations and syndicates for all the dark secrets kept inside his very head.
He brisked down the drizzling street, the black hoodie covering his head from the light rain, hiding his face from passersby as he strode through a meandering alleyway. If it wasn't for the tip that Ryu Koizumi, an agent friend he got along pretty well with from the Japanese Metahuman force Suzaku, had given him, Shizuka didn't want to be here. He'd be lying if he didn't feel one bit uncomfortable to be in such a place, seeing pairs of drunken geezers being towed around by women in glittering dresses and heavy makeups from the corner of his eye.
The sight of it was revolting.
He continued his way down the road towards the rendezvous point - a rundown rental apartment near the outskirts of the district - occasionally glancing around to make sure he wasn't being tailed. Sucking in a breath of cold, damp air, he pressed a palm to the wall, channeling his power across the wall and door.
...Seemed like this informant wasn't guarding at or anywhere near the doorway. Whipping out a gun before crashing into a suspicious place like this was pretty much standard cop procedure, even if bullets were useless against his ability. Still, it was best that he didn't provoke this broker unnecessarily, and so the concealable pistol around his ankle was left as it was.
He pulled back the hand, then he rapped against the metallic door three times. He could hear the sound of approaching footsteps, and the heaviness told him the person still had his shoes - maybe boots - on.
There was a pause, then a raspy voice spoke from beyond the door, "In the cicada's cry, no sign--"
"--Can foretell how soon it must die," Shizuka finished the haiku, the 'pass code' to identify each other as taught to him by Ryu. Poetry was his older twin's forte than to him, but he could feel an irony hidden in between those short, succinct lines.
There was another pause, and the door finally creaked open outwards, causing the agent to take a step back.
"Please come in."
The speaker was a man who appeared to be in his fifties, but he didn't even have as much gray hair as Shizuka used to have before the latter dyed them black (about a month ago). The wrinkles around the man's face deepened, seemingly surprised that his supposed client this time was a young man who could easily pass off as a teenager given how casually Shizuka had dressed for a meeting like this. However, those sharp, steely eyes didn't degenerate with his aging look as they studied Shizuka closely.
"Sorry for the disturbance," Shizuka muttered when the man closed the door behind him, careful to avoid direct eye contact with the man - unlike the Western society, direct eye contact from someone of less seniority were seen as rude, a form of disrespect. Once the formalities were done and over with, the young agent looked up to survey the interior.
The apartment was empty - not a single furniture was in sight sans the worn-out tatamis under their feet and a bag of trash at the back corner of the room. There were some graffitis on the peeling walls, ranging from childish scribbles to the more aggressive swearings that could be pretty much summarized to "FUCK U METAS".
The man waited for Shizuka to finish his check before leading the younger man to the middle of the room, gesturing for him to sit on the floor. "I have nothing to hide here," he chuckled. Then he tapped a finger to his temple, giving Shizuka a knowing smile.
Shizuka raised an eyebrow at the gesture, but otherwise he was impassive towards what the man was saying. "As they say, 'the most dangerous place is also the safest', huh?" He finally looked at the man in the eye. "I think it's time we get straight to the point. I believe Koizumi had already given you a brief."
"Of course, of course." The man bobbed his head, still smiling. "I apologize that I don't have any tea to serve you..." He gave Shizuka a small bow, but the younger agent raised a hand to stop him.
"Uh, I don't think that's necessary. I'm sorry, but we'll have to skip the formalities - time is running out. We both know that."
"...Very well." And the man stretched out a hand.
Shizuka hesitated for a moment but still clasped his hand around the man's in the end. His vision suddenly turned black, then it refocused. He was no longer in the room - or even in Japan anymore. The scenery around him felt much warmer, more humid - probably somewhere in the more southern parts of Asia. Though, sepia was the only type of shading that filled his sight. He knew that this wasn't teleportation - not even time-travel, for the matter - because he could still feel the man's rough hand in his.
"I can share part of my memories with other people through touch," the man's voice explained in his head. "This is how I'm able to exchange sensitive intel only to specific individuals I choose. After all, the stakes are much higher in our line of business, don't you think so?"
Without waiting for Shizuka's response, the man led the young agent through a blur of buildings before they paused for a short moment, enough for Shizuka to make out a street sign just in front of a fancy, European-style bungalow. Speeding through the gates, through the door, they reached a posh study room lined with wooden shelves filled with books. On the table just before the glass doors that led to a balcony beyond was a table strewn with papers. All written in Chinese. The man zoomed into one of them next to a photo frame.
Shizuka's eyes widened. Both at the picture in the photo frame, and the information on the magnified paper.
The vision disappeared when the man pulled his hand back, breaking the physical contact with Shizuka, and he stood up. "I guess that's it. I have returned the favor I owed to Inoue-san. I wish you all the best."
The two men parted ways and silence filled the apartment once more, all empty and deserted with no signs of any person around or within.