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It's a little past noon and the entire wheel of the spaceport is bustling with activity, people coming, going, cargo being uploaded, unloaded. Not all that different from an average day on Comorro, give or take a few species here in abundance. Give or take a Franceza, squeeky clean, freshly groomed, without a bruise on her and dressed in clothes so new you'd almost wanna check for a price tag. She's slowly making her way through the crowd in the company of a shorter human female with dark hair bound together behind her head, startling green eyes scanning the crowd. Fran's the one listening, the other's doing the talking, instructing by the looks of.
From the Landing Pad, Raisa comes traipsing along, not looking like a particularly happy camper. "Freeze my ass off and they let him end up dead anyway," she grumbles as she trudges along, carrying a duffle bag. She clears her throat and is notably disheveled and cut and bruised.
Raisa's path takes her right across that of Franceza and her company, the spacer glancing at Raisa once without recognition, the green eyes girl too busy to scan the other side of the crowd to see. If Raisa keeps up the pace, she'll have to pause to let the pair pass. Either that or... BOOM!
Raisa is so busy grumbling and muttering that she doesn't pay any attention and smacks right into Franceza. She staggers back a few steps, swearing and holding on to her ribs gingerly. "Oh, sorry 'bout that, Fran," she apologizes, giving the other person a nod in greeting.
Changing scenery isn't that bad, especially when you spend the majority of your time in the underbelly of a living station. So Shinigami, with his Raijin in tow finds his way into the spaceport. The gray man in the mask pushes the motorcycle that appears to of been ripped from a horror movie, only slightly less unsettling when it's not running. Clearing the main hubbub of activity, he stops, putting the kickstand out, so that he can look over the strange machine, in an effort to see how it fared during it's transport.
The green eyed companion of Franceza is for a moment distracted when noticing Shinigami and his bike, the woman hugging a clock like coat closer, just shy of pulling up the hood. Franceza meanwhile is mimicking Raisa's reaction, needing a moment to refind her balance, annoyed brown eyes scanning the other's face. "Fanculo," she mutters, "What where yer goin' already. Merda, what's the rush yeah, nearly runnin' a girl over like that."
Raisa stares at Shini for a moment but at Fran's words, her attention snaps back to the woman in front of her. "You hit your head on something, girl?" she asks with a lifted brow. "Don't need to have a cow over a little push. I'll buy ya a beer or something to make up for it." She scan's the woman's figure. "Guess you're not workin' today?"
Shinigami is a strange creature, that just goes without saying. No clip or strap seems to hold that mask to face, it simply sit there as if it were glued. Whisps of white hair tumble about his shoulders as he bends down to check a connection on the bike. The pair of massive metal-organic wings jutting out of his back twitch in annoyance as he works. There's an audible 'click' sound as the wire is reconnected. Nodding at this, he unslings the sheathed sword into a custom hook that holds it place that runs along the length of the body, within easy grasp incase it needs to be drawn out while riding. Straddling the machine, he kicks out the peg, before pumping down on the kickstarter. What follows is the roar of what sounds like cries of people in agony. Sickly green flames spew from the quad set of tailpipes, the tires themselves igniting and being coated in the same unearthly flames. If the man riding this metallic pale horse could be seen to smile behind his mask, he would be.
Franceza apparently gained a little weight, lost some muscle tissue while she was at it, the arms and chest appearing just a hint softer than Raisa remembers, the jaw a little rounder with the reserves softening the angles. "Of course I d-" The spacer's words are cut off by a poke of the green eyed woman, who tore her eyes away from that dreadful bike to glare at and clearly recognize Raisa, going so far as pulling her companion back a little. Even answering for her, "You mind your own damn business, you lit-," the woman mutters, swallowing half her words, "Doctor's orders, she's not well." Shielding Fran as best as she can, the woman's eyes seem haunted for a moment, an urgency that seems out of place. "Taking care of her, you just mind..." And then Shinigami starts his engines. And both Fran and the other look back, in horror so.
Confusion and then suspicion crosses over Raisa's features as she studies Fran. "You're a friend of Diri, aren't you?" she asks the woman. She points at her companion, "But the hell out of this conversation before I send you to the hospital with broken bones," she threatens. Attention goes back to the original target. "You're not... not /this/ Franceza, are you?" There's now something close to horror in her eyes. "He wasn't making it up. I thought he was going crazy."
This was just a test of the bike's systems. Those green flames, that lick and lash out at the, that coat the tires, and that mysteriously give off no heat finally die down. Quite the reverse, it feels colder near the bike. The screaming of forlorn lost souls dimmer and fade into the background. Test run complete, Shini knows he's free to ride about as he chooses when he gets into open space from this city. For the briefest of moment, when Fran looks on at the bike, the man looks up, happening to catch her gaze, staring right back at her. There are no eyes within the eyeholes of the mask he wears. Black pits of nothing, save for the small illuminating glow of a pair of orange pinpoints, flickering like candle flames. They do not blink.
It's Franceza who has a hard time tearing her eyes away now, probably not quite believing what they tell her. The green eyed woman manages quicker, again pulling the spacer away from Raisa, muttering darkly, "If you know what's good for you..." She digs a hand in a pocket that looks at least flat enough not to host a gun or knife or other weapon. When someone passes between Franceza and Shini's eyes is when she's finally able to look away, head shaking off the goosebumps riding her spine, swiveling her attention back to Raisa, "You know Diri? Where is he. Where is he!" The longing in the voice is thick enough to coat toast with. And... Diri. Not Callott.
"Like I said, woman, back the hell off," Raisa warns a second time to the other woman. Doesn't seem concerned by her threats. "Yeah... I know Diri," she says quietly. "We just finished a mission together. You're his Fran, aren't you? He thought you were dead."
"B'hira." states the flat tone of Shinigami. Not only does he look demonic, has odd eyes, but voice is cold, sounding like one would if they were speaking from within a deep well; hollow cavernous. He jaw doesn't move when speaks, sounds merely seems to be 'emitted' from him. "The leader of the Red Eclipse?" he moves forward, steps smooth and graceful, as if he gliding across the ground. "He and others within his employ were boarding a shuttle bound for that world. What they were doing, I cannot say." he explains simply.
"Don't you threaten her," Franceza glares at Raisa with a sudden vehemenence to her voice that might be startling to the people who know her, half stepping in front of the other woman who still has a hand around her arm, still pulling her back, "Have to go through me first," the spacer continues, "And if you know Diri half as well as you think he does, you /know/ he'll kill you if you hurt me." Only Shinigami's coming closer has a calming effect on her, though calming... Quieter at least, still trying to shield green eyes behind her.
Another collision of emotions across Raisa's face before she takes a step back. "He'll be glad to see you," she says quietly. "But if you cause him a flicker of pain, no one will ever hear from you again. You get me?" The wearied woman turns and walks in the direction of a shuttle. Doesn't seem to matter which shuttle, just the first one she reaches.
Shinigami just watches in what might be considered apathy. "I care not for your petty and fleeting mortal relationship matters. You wish to know where he is, I have told you. What you do with that information is of no concern to me." he states matter-of-factly, turning about to head back to his Raijin.
Neither the green eyed woman nor Franceza seem to care much about the emotions displayed by Raisa either, but in the end, when the danger to her companion seems to have abated, Fran throws her arms around the other's neck, exclaiming, "I'll see him again, Tracy, I'll see him..." To which Tracy shushes the spacer, eyes spying who caught her name, other than Shinigami who she watches in distrust, murmurs a "Appreciated," then quickly leading Franceza away by the arm.
Raisa turns to look back at the cheerful Franceza and Tracy, eyes narrowing slightly. "Y'know that you've been dead for quite a while in his eyes," she calls. "Dude just finally got over you and is trying to move on with his life. What gives you the right to come back and trample all over it again?"
Shinigami would've been happy to step away and let the mortals do...whatever it is that mortals do. Not really his problem. But it's hard to forget matters that he tended to for centuries, so when the former Archangel hears something referring to his previous position, it gives him pause. Pause enough to not completely discard them. Suddenly, he turns his head, as if sensing something. The sound of air being sucked through the pair of nose holes on his mask. It causes him to go a bit still, more than usual, the aura of cold that radiates off him becoming a little more intense, as if he's focusing on something, trying to put a mental finger on. But he is quiet for the moment, watching on to see what Raisa plans to do.
"Move on?!" Franceza's head turns sharply back to Raisa, "What d'you mean, move on, I wasn't dead, I was just..." She frowns, clearly confused as she searches a part of her brain that's just not willing to pass on the information, "Here?" Tracy pulls harder now, woman clearly in a hurry, softly speaking urgent words to the spacer who's trying to keep up -and- make sense of things at the same time. Never was a multi-tasker.
Raisa strides back in Franceza's direction, dropping her duffle bag as she gets up in her face. "Yeah, move on," she says angrily. "You left him. He had every right to find someone else and be happy. Now here you are again, trying to ruin that." Her hands ball into fists but the Lunite manages to avoid putting them into use for the time being.
Shinigami looks on, watching the women begin to bicker. Whatever he senses behind his eyes continue to hound him, until he starts to walk back, irritation showing as his wings unfold from his back. "Curious." he utters. There's something on his mind, but he's not sharing it just yet, he's looking directly at Fran now, those pinpoints for eyes flickering brighter. She has demon's attention now, for all the good and bad that it entails. He stays his hand for the now, watching on, but something definitely has his curiosity piqued and his gaze is unwavering.
Again Franceza's looking back while Tracy continues to pull her away, murmuring soft, soothing words about it not being worth the time and energy, had they not better find Dirionis? What Raisa can clearly see is the hurt flashing over Fran's tell-all face, "Ruin?" The word is gasped, "I'd never ru-" Which would be about the moment she becomes aware of Shini's attention, eyes showing white, colour leaving her face, the woman SCARED. "Madre..." her soft prayer goes up - and under her breath.
"Tell me one thing," Raisa says, her anger calming. "Where have you been all this time if you aren't dead? Diri woulda done everything in his power to find you. He loved you and you being gone really fucked him up. If you loved him, how could you have left him?" Her gaze focuses in on Tracy, "What's your part in all this?"
Shinigami is cold. It's not psionics or anything that can be described scientific. Nor is it a reflection of his attitude, it it far more tangible. He radiates a drop in temperature to those within a certain proximity to him. And right now, he is getting very close, as he leans down to look upon her He doesn't seem to be listening to whatever Raisa is saying, and if is, he probably doesn't care. Those 'eyes' of his flicker again. "You smell...different." he finally says. This causes his left wing to twitch. "Unnatural." A headtilt. "What are you, little soul? Some stray made real? Ether and dust given a spark? Why do you live?" he asks almost cryptically. "You do not have the scent of Necromundus upon you, so. You must of came from Elsewhere."
"I..." But Fran's not quite in a state of mind to answer all that, cowering as Shinigami nears, the woman actually trembling a little, that scared. Xenophobes, cowards, what's the difference. Tracy... Less frightened, biting at Raisa, "I found her in an alley, all shivering and covered in black goo. Took her to my doctor and /he/ told me for her fragile state of mind she should not experience such stress!" But there's something else darkening those startling green eyes, a hatred burning bright, "So you tell her lover she's come back and take care of her like he should. Poor soul needs all the help she can get." Right about at that moment another face enters the scene, perhaps familiar to Raisa, once of Franceza's colleagues, the bastard known as Fat Jake brushing past behind her and she can feel something touching her neck, right before she can hear his lecherous voice tell her, "You need to back off." He's brandishing a small gun, poking it at Raisa's ribs, "Right about before I blow your liver right onto someone's plate."
"Sure you did," Raisa spits out, glaring at Tracy. She looks at Shini, seemingly baffled by his words before her eyes narrow. "Cloning? You make a fucking clone of a dead woman?" she asks, staring at them all. Now the Lunite is riled and Jake stepping into her personal space just seems to piss her off even more. "Don't start with me again, you stupid bastard," she growls, attempting to side step and strike at his wrist fast enough to dislodge the weapon from his hand.
"A curious game you play." Shinigami says, without hint empathy. "An even stranger scent. But you do not know, do you?" The interruption of the man sticking a weapon at Raisa. "I have no time for your paltry efforts, mortal." he utters, leaning up to look at man. The orange pinpoints within his mask suddenly glow the same sickly green as the flames from his bike. Fat Jake will now find it very hard to breathe, the feeling of something trying to crush his throat.
"Cloning?" The word is echoed by the two women, both sounding alarmed by the very notion, though Fran's face shows her confusion at least mingles honestly with her fear of that demon mask. And what's underneath. Fat Jake's snickering comes to an abrupt end when first Raisa's strike is effectively breaking his wrist, the gun going off, but with the gun no longer pointed at her, the bullet penetrates the air on it's way to Shinigami's left leg. Not that the man has much time to wail about it, both hands, good and broken, dashing to his throat as he gasps for air that won't make it down the pipe. Terrified, the man smashes his good fist around then, trying to punch or kick Raisa who he believes is choking him. Meanwhile, Tracy's again pulling Fran away, hushing the terrified spacer, "Come darling, we have no need for this violence, it's your Diri we must find. Come darling..."
Raisa weaves to the side, away from Jake's pitiful attempts at a punch and then responds by lashing out and trying to punch the man hard in the face. "God, how many times do I have to punch you before you just stay the hell away from me, you fat loser," she growls. She looks towards Tracy, eyes narrowing. "This isn't over, bitch. I'm coming for you. Just you wait." In her adrenaline lift, she doesn't notice anything out of the ordinary yet.
Well, Raisa isn't touching Fat Jake's throat. It's Shini, who allows the bullet to travel towards him before an invisible force bounces the projectile before it reaches his limb. Letting go of his hold on the other man's throat, he let's Raisa continue with her business. "If the that matter has not finished, I can detain them both if you so desire it."
Life sucks pretty much about now when you're Fat Jake, the man going down in a heap of blood and broken nose, quite possibly jaw fractures as well, a soft sigh passing his lips as air gets once more to his lungs, but the soft thud announces the cargo hauler -or was he really...- is out like a light. It's given Tracy and Franceza the opportunity to get a bit of a head start at the two of them, Tracy urgent to get her protege away from the fray, the spacer instead filled with the overwhelming need to be far far away from -mostly- Shinigami. For all looks and appearances, they could be two refugees escaping major drama. The look Tracy sends back to Raisa though is pure, deadly venom. The kind of look that says, 'you're on my list now you little *heavily censored* bitch'. The green eyed look to Fat Jake? Disgust.
Now that things have settled down, other things are catching up with Raisa. She shakes her head, trying to refocus her eyes but it doesn't seem to be working. Something is wrong. The Lunite just manages to stumble off to retrieve her duffle bag before heading towards a shuttle for the Olympus.