Participants:
| Scene Title | I'm not that kind of girl |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Did you click on this log to find out which one is the girl? …It's Jason. |
| Date | December 18, 2010 |
Description of location, if any.
"So, do you assume, since I'm sitting in a Japanese restauraunt, that I'm Japanese?"
The lightly accented question is hurled across the booth in the back. The asian man speaking has chopsticks in hand, a piece of raw tuna already slipping into his mouth. Bringing the chopsticks down, the man looks blankly at the man on the other side of the table from him. "I'm not. I'm Chinese." He swings his toothpicks in a motion that includes the rest of the restauraunt. "But no one is true to their heritage anymore. You have guilao preparing japanese food at a japanese restauraunt." His eyes roll to one of the very white sushi chefs before rolling back to his companion. "This city is falling apart on itself…"
Dong-tian is already well into his meal, his companion Jason seated across the booth from him. The white boy was invited to order anything he like. Towards the entrance of the Sushi place, a man completely identical to Dong-tian occupies a table by himself. Xue watches the door quietly. But true to Dong-tian's point, the asian in West Side Sushi are outnumbered by people of other races.
"Which is why I asked you to come here… Mister… Excuse me. I don't believe I know your last name. Jason, is what people have been calling you. What my contacts know you as. So Jason will have to do." The two conversationists have a wide berth around them, none of the other occupants of the establishment have been seated near them. A little more room for the legs, and maybe so they don't have to whisper. "So, Jason. You were pretty handy at my place a few weeks ago. A loss." The chopsticks pierce a piece of salmon as if to punctuate the word. "But a loss is sometimes the right move. Regardless, I could tell you had more in you than that performance." Bringing up the piece of sashimi, he takes a bite. "What do you think, Jason? Am I correct in my assessment? Are you, capable?"
Outside, the rain slaps against the windows unceasingly. Adding soft ambience to the quietly played background music in Westside sushi. Dong-tian's voice raising just loud enough to be heard over the ensemble of noise pollution. "If the price is right, of course."
A lonesome chopstick pushes a pink lump of fish across a plate and into a puddle of black sauce. The salty ooze dribbles around the meat, soaking into the bed of cold rice it's laid over, coloring the grain a muddy brown. Yuck. Everything smells of sea-stink. The Asian versions of caviar and escargot were eyeballs and poisoned fish tails. And as the chopsticks, tilts the sashimi on its side and topples it over, Jason can't help but wonder which oriental delicacy he's about to consume. The ass of the fish, or the face.
"If the money's green," he says, boyishly pulling the oversized toothpick away from the plate. "It doesn't matter what kind of yellow of you are." With a squint a dabs the salted end of the chopstick to his tongue. Bleahk! He pulls back with a scowl and drops the stick on the table. "Ahem," he clears his throat. "All that matters is that you've found me. And have obviously found my performance in the ring, capable enough."
"I mean, that's why we're here isn't it?" he says calmly, stretching an arm over the back of a booth chair with one hand, and reaching for a cup of iced water to wash the taste of the orient from his mouth with the other. "You know as well as I do" - - he drinks - - "that that fight was merely an exhibition of talents. And a promise of greater things to come." The ice jingles as the class is set on the table top.
"I can't even remember the name of the half-wit meta-human who went all out against me. It was so sad and pathetic I figured I just had to throw him a bone." The other arm reaches over the back of the booth. "People really get off on having their pride spared. But me? I don't have any pride to worry about, just a set of eerily effective compulsions. Such as the need to take your cash, and make it my own."
The arrogant boy licks his teeth and nods to the other Chinaman keeing an eye on the bar. What an uncanny resemblance. "So yes. I'm as capable as your money can afford. " He clears his throat again, remembering the taste of undead fish. "What did you have in mind?"
Dong-tian's eyes follow Jason's chopstick as it plays with the little dead fish. The man's face is forgotten for the moment as he is overtaken with disgust at the sheer incompetency of raw-fish eating. But his disgust is masked with a feature that graces Dong-tian's face more often than Mel Gibson goes to confession. Boredome.
"Mister Griffin." He quietly intones. Obviously Dong-tian did not forget the name of the half-wit meta-human that went all out against Jason. "How kind of you." The Ghost Shadow lets out, there is no venom or sarcasm in his voice, though some might assume it is implied. But perhaps the hitman really does think Jason is a real nice guy! "Pride can be dangerous, and useful." Dong-tian takes another bite of his sashimi before placing the chopstick on the table and pressing down hard.
Snap
The chopstick breaks in half, and the Chinese man goes about taking one half of the aforementioned twig. Only then does he glance back up to Jason. "And I'm sure you are proud of some things, Jason. For example…" Dong-tian places his half of the chopstick on the table. Picking up a knife he had asked for previously, it is placed to the edge of the half-stick. Looking up at Jason as if gauging him for something, Dong-tian cuts off a piece of the stick. "If I were to compare this miniscule stick to the miniscule member that has burrowed it's way back into your stomach… I imagine your pride would be cut." The knife clinks against the table as the chopstick is pushed over to Jason's side of the table smoothly. "I understand your compulsions, and I understand my money. One of which things is vast in amount and holds great influence in this city. The other of these two options small and easily replaceable." Can you guess which one is which?!
"I need a little pride, Jason." Dong-tian smiles lightly and somewhat creepily over at the larger man. "If a man does not have pride in his work? What does a man have left? And come Christmas, I need you to be proud of yourself. Proud of yourself for the work you completed the eve before." Also known as, he wants Jason to do something Christmas Eve.
Jason's eyes follow Dong-Tian's knife. The breaking of these silly sticks, well that could happen to anyone, and Jason had been careful not to crush a few splinters himself. But the blade, now whittling away at the broken utensils, is a separate issue. Perhaps out of instinct, or a sense of preparedness, the young hoodlum tenses. It's nothing overtly physical, but it is a slow inhalation and the mental resolve to expect the next knife wound to be in him. He hardens himself for a moment. But soon the moment passes.
"I'm not saying your English isn't good - it' alright - but I can't for the life of me figure out exactly what you mean. A man full of pride," he says, leaning forward and well over his half of the table, extending himself into Dong-Tian's personal space. "… is sure to fall. But a man with diligence, and cautiousness, and fortitude is sure to prevail over the hubris of others."
Before leaning back into his booth seat, he takes the other half of Dong-Tian's chopstick and snaps it over his thumb. "You, honorable master, may have all the pride that can fill your pockets. But me," he looks around the Japanese establishment. "I'm just a humble samurai. It isn't pride which fuels me. But my duty to you, and our contract."
With a smile he tosses both pieces of the wooden thing on the table. "But if you're interested in buying my pride. Fine, I'll sell. Christmas day, Halloween, Easter Sunday, whatever you want."
"I just need to know the price you're willing to pay."
The tension building ever so slightly in Jason's shoulders is noted. Not by Dong-tian, but by the man who sits far behind Jason. The twin; Xue. A subtle bob of the head to his brother, and the identical Chinese man is continuing with his food. Dong-tian however, is just getting started on his meal.
(it's a metaphor because he already finished his sushi; the meal is jason ok)
Sitting up straight, the triad places one elbow on the table. Eyeing it, he smiles lightly. "My mother told me to never put my elbow on the table." It's almost in a sing-song tone, the whimsy of the memory temporarily filling him up. "Our parents teach much in our youth. Though I have found, over fifty percent of what you are taught as a child is thrown out when you begin to sort your own life out. Then parents just become people who happened to birth you, and naturally are older than you. This makes rebellion quite simple. Turning your back on those who first found you…"
A hand swings up with amazing quickness into the air. The sudden disruption of no movement to a sudden explosion of his arm has the waitress herself a bit spooked. "Sake." He calls out simply before lowering his arm ever so slowly back to the table. "Ever had a teenage rebellion, Jason?" He smiles broadly as if the two are buddy buddies and reminiscing on old times. But before the other man has a chance to answer, a hand is held up with one finger. "Sake?" He asks politely. "I think you might like it more than the wasabi…" A slight dip of his eyes to Jason's plate to imply that the other man sucks at sushi.
Without waiting for his answer, "Two." A beat. "Four." A little nod as if to affirm his decision before he is looking plainly back at his associate. "Don't worry about the price, Jason." He laughs quietly, waving his hand dismissively. "But I do intend to buy your pride, and I do intend to buy your rebellion. I intend to buy the backstabber inside of you." The sake arrives, and as the tiny cup is brought to his mouth Dong-tian intones very quietly.
"How much does he cost?"
How humorously arrogant. Jason finds his little Chinese cohort to be ruthlessly amiable. Free dinner, free drinks, and the sputtering way he has of interrupting himself and company - just adorable. It's come to the point where Jason can no longer hide his amusement. He smiles at Dong-Tian as young boy would at watching a circus performance, or some exhibition of muppetry. Can fifteen clowns really fit into a Volkswagen? I don't see any strings - is Kermit really speaking? Are all Chinese this exciting?
"Thank you for ordering for me," he says to the Chinese. "It doesn't emasculate me at all." With a kind smile as sweet as breakfast syrup, Jason reaches for small cup of rice wine before him and drinks it whole in one burning gulp. "Kaaaaaaaaawgh!!" He exhales, letting the heat rise off his tongue like fog and waft out of his mouth. He examines the small glass in his hand before setting it back down. "Interesting."
"You Asians have a very fun culture. I recently started watching animated porn from you country - an attempt to know you better. I mean, what better way to judge a people, than by their most perverted desires." He shakes his head with levity. "Wow! And I mean that. Just, WOW! Strange and unsettling, definitely different, but not necessarily bad. I could get used to it - Asians."
"Although I have heard that Asian children are extremely respectful of their parents. I admire that. Respect. A sense of… what do they call it? Ah, yes… filial duty to one's family. It's all so very honorable. And I must say that I not only enjoy hearing about these sorts of things, but I commend them as well."
Jason laughs a bit, offering Dong-Tian a shrug before he reaches for another sake. "But I had a real messed childhood. And while I am sympathetic to such notions, I can never truly be compassionate. I simply don't understand it," he says, pouting a bit before raising the glass. "Much like how I don't understand how could assume there's a back stabber in me to be purchased. Tsk. Tsk!"
The hoodlum waggles his finger to correct Dong-Tian's mistake. "I'd never stab anyone in the back. That's what guns are for."
Dong-tian watches with a bored amusement. Sometimes his brows lift at this fantastical parade and his lips slightly curve upward, but other moments… Like the porn part. Dong-tian appears as if he would like the other man to embed a nickle into his frontal lobe. Or maybe a silver dollar. Whatever the coin, hopefully it would be painful. Because this Chinese culture crap is booooriiing~
Finally once Jason establishes what God made guns for, Dong-tian puts an end to their silly games. "I know who you're working for." He smiles gently. "Which is funny, because I don't think you know who you work for. Did you know that? The job, the job you're undertaking with Miss.." He glances to the side. "Miss whatsherface. Keira." He gives a little nod. "Are you aware Jason, that you're working for Humanis First?"
His hands splay out. "Now I understand, that if the money is green." This last part is done in his best imitation of White Jason Voice. "You will do the job. The unfortunate part is, that Humanis First isn't the most delicate of handlers. You are a toy. And Humanis First is a large retarded Samoan child whom, when he is no longer fascinated with your pump-arm action feature, will bash your head against a rubix cube until you are decapatated in a pile of play-dough."
Another gentle sip of sake. "Do you want to be decapatated in a pile of playdough, Jason?" Dong-tian shakes his head. "I truly hope you do not. It smells." He smiles gently. "So I am going to do you the favor of getting paid twice for one job. Am I not your best friend in the whole wide world, Jason?"
Jason fiddles with the empty sake glasses on the table. Marching them into each other like two bulls butting heads. "Humanis First?" The name sounds familiar, but still something vague an uninteresting to him. "Is that the rabid group of human-loving, evo-hating trolls that burn up the Internet with accusations and threats of anti-evolved incitement?"
One of the miniature glasses is allowed to wobble and fall over. "Cause if it is, it's really none of my business then." To this, he looks Dong-Tian square in the eye. "I don't know anything about the evolved. Only that they should do what the government says. And if they behaved themselves like good little cronies, maybe then people wouldn't want to blow them up all the time."
Jason sighs and sinks into his booth chair. "What humans do, what the evolved do, it's none of my business. I'm just one normal guy. So I don't think there's any fear of reprisal from Humanis First. Do I share their zeal? No. But it's not like two perfectly normal people can't get along together. You do understand what I'm saying to you. Yes?"
"Besides. I don't have any intentions of working with Miss Whasherface again. She's not as methodical as I'd prefer. And that's a dangerous thing for me." He knocks the other sake glass over with the flick of a finger. "You weren't suggesting I get back in bed with that lunatic again? Especially now, knowing that she's a dog for the Humanists. A best friend wouldn't want that for me, now would he?"
Dong-tian watches Jason's bull show with minimal interest. But at least there's a little interest, subconciously he might be taking a bet or two against the left sake cup. Who stands no chance, by the way. But that's neither here nor, "There is no such thing as normal anymore. You are an asian porn watching, evo fighter, who has never had sushi before and most likely still has wet dreams occasionally." Dong-tian lets out a soft sigh. "If that is normal. This city is more fucked than Paris Hilton." He glances up to Jason with an incredible amount of intensity and seriousness.
"Which will never happen."
"But people do want to blow them up all the time. But my employer seeks balance, or zen, or yin-yang.. something philosophical and important." Dong-tian waves a dismissive hand. "But.. If you are not interested in dealing with Humanis First, or their Whatsherface. Then I'm afraid me and Mr.Moneybags have other meetings to attend to." Maybe with asian cartoon porn. "But I am very glad we were able to become best friends, Jason." His eyes flick to the door. There it is! You can go to it!
Jason sucks his teeth. The noise is apparent, and distracting, as it chirps through the spaces of his pursed lips. He mulls over the Asian's words and feels a need to correct them, one by one. "Research," he says, referencing the porn. "I don't know what that is," he says to the evo comment. "I've had it. But courtesy demanded I have it again - for your benefit."
Sitting upright, Jason inches from the booth. He scoots along the edge of it and stands to the side of the table. "And the only thing that merits wet dreams these days, is the dream of money. But I guess you weren't serious at all," he says, slipping his leather jacket from the back of the seat and over his shoulders. "You didn't even make me an offer. Something I couldn't refuse." He laughs inwardly at the self-amusing reference. "But I suspect you just wanted to get me drunk and take advantage."
"Oh well," he says, shaking his head and walking to door. "I'm a slut, but I'm not that kind of girl."
"Ciao!"
"Research." Dong-tian repeats in deadpan. Giving a light nod. Smirking a little, "Do you really think I don't know that you're evolved? Or does the word make you nervous? Do you think we're in Harry Potter?" Dong-tian waves his hand dismissively. "You who shall not be named.. Have a pleasant afternoon masturbating." Dong-tian gives a little wave of his hand.
But as Jason turns his back, Dong-tian's voice raises. "Jason." He calls out pleasantly. Should Jason turn around he'll see Dong-tian reaching across the table to pick up a wallet there. Apparently Jason left it there. "You forgot your wallet." A small shake of his head. Tsk tsk. "Here. Let me put my card in it." With one fluid movement a white card is produced and slid into Jason's card. "Should you change your mind, and want to play for the Away team.. And be introduced to my friend Mister Moneybags. Give me a call. If not.. Get carpal tunnel." A smile, and the wallet is slid over to the edge of the table where Jason can retrieve it.
All good humor leaves Jason's face as he turns around to spy Dong-Tian holding his wallet. Although it has nothing useful in it-a few twenties, some condoms, and a stick of gum-it's the principle of the matter. Walking back to the table, he awkwardly struggles to smile-biting back a snarl.
"Oh, how considerate of you to have found my wallet for me." He pretends to pat his pockets earnestly. "I reckon, I'd - lose - my - head if it wasn't attached to my body." The reckon slips out, a bit of Southern twang showing through in times of uncertainty.
Taking possession of his wallet, Jason holds it in his hands for a moment, staring at it, then staring at Dong-Tian and back again. "Call you?" He licks his teeth again, wondering how he fell for a pick-pocket's scheme. Do they make them so well-trained in China? "I'm sure a person of your considerable specialties can find me. Just make sure to double whatever it was you were thinking of offering me today. Anything less, and I just wouldn't be able to stomach picking on cute, little Humanists."
He pockets the wallet. "And even then, I suspect you're the sort of BFF that doesn't like to play well with others. Which puts me at a moral, if not vital disadvantage. Which also means that when you double the figure in your head, I'll probably have you double it again-just for good measure."
The door to the restaurant opens and Jason walks out. "The value of my pride has suddenly sky-rocketed." Sayonara, Charlie Chan.