Tread Carefully, Darling [ open ]

[Vash Alois Zwingli]

THIS IS HOW YOU GET YOURSELF DEAD, FRIEND ♞ This was the sort of business he had no desire to involve himself in. He was fortunate enough to have kept himself out of the Assassination Division of the MI6, certainly. He had his exceptional skills with the gun, and was credited as an agent who could complete his work in the cleanest fashion, but he had his qualms about ending life. Perhaps he didn't want the weight of blood on his hands. He didn't quite mind hunting someone down to apprehend them from ending other lives. He enjoyed the rush of that, but to kill? To end a life? He could never go that low. Perhaps it was his normally peaceful tendencies (if one could call Vash Alois Zwingli, one of the MI6's most gifted marksmen peaceful— but you could say he is a man of many contradictions) that kept him from doing such an act. And so it sickened him so that today's order of business involved an assassin. Assassins, he believed, were tools. At least they tended to be when it came to those underworld empires. It was such a dishonor to use these assassins to end lives. He believed that if you were to kill someone, you had to give them the honor of looking them in the eye, long and hard, to read their stories before closing the book. The particular assassin that he was following the trail of was believed to be under the payroll of a local underworld empress by the name Estelle Bonnefoy, who perhaps shared the same qualms as Vash in the fact that she would not wish to get a single drop of blood on her perfectly manicured fingernails. The reason why it was believed, or simply suspected, was because you could never be too sure. It was hard to be certain without proofs. The last assassin the MI6 had taken into custody and accepted his crime as something all on his own volition, without anyone pulling the strings or paying him. Attempting to write himself off as simply a murderer, really. However, with the resources he had to end his target, it was very unlikely that he wasn't getting a good sum for the murder. He confessed to being a "simple murderer" with such earnestness that the lie detectors didn't set themselves off. They were perhaps truly loyal to Bonnefoy's cause, or truly loyal to her money. She knows how to make someone love her, that woman. He was following a trail left by an assassin, who is suspected to have murdered Agent Moe Williamson in the last week. The MI6's Human Resources Department had to send a letter to his family, detailing his demise, and explaining that they would be given a sum of money every month from the British government in order to support them. Many agents lives ended that way. He truly hoped that Lili wouldn't have to receive one of those letters in the mail eventually. And today won't be the day Human Resources will be drafting my letter. The trail had come up a bit cold. He was dressed as a normal business man, a banker of a prestigious bank in Switzerland he played. He carried a pistol in his suit coat, his suitcase concealing a gun. The case was built with a trigger on the handle that allowed it to be fired without removing the weapon. His wristwatch, a Swatch, was his navigational system. Here he ended, at the Big Ben, the clock tower that happened to be the symbol of London, and arguably the United Kingdom. Big Ben was to the United Kingdom as the Eiffel Tower was to France, as they say. He stood in front of a stand that sold coffee and newspapers. "Dark, if you please," he said to the barrista. He paid for the amount and for a copy of The Crown Royale Gazette. Political Unrest in Light of Upcoming Elections in Belarus. Serial Killer Loose on the Streets of London. Prince Lost at Sea. He sat upon a bench as he drank his coffee and preoccupied himself with reading the newspaper. The trail would be cold unless he kept an eye out for anything suspicious. He would have to stake things out, and if needed, he would chase down anyone of suspicion. For here in the streets of London, the assassins walk amongst the people, and they're just as invisible as the agents they work against. Sometimes the best place to hide is in plain sight. tag: @open ▪ words: 748▪ ooc: open to anybody of any class!

BY KERRIA ♥ OF GANGNAM STYLE

[Deleted]

I MUST ADMIT, I FEEL LIKE A MONSTER

She could feel something in the air today. There was a hint of danger to it; something Sera welcomed with open arms, embracing it for the mere sake of partaking in an interesting game. She knew it was frowned upon by Estelle, and she knew she could get in a lot of trouble if she was caught -- but that was the fun adrenaline of a risk. Games were always enticing, and it was rare when she would turn down the chance to play. Estelle beside; as long as her Boss (perhaps it would be more accurate to refer to as her Mistress) remained safe and out of harm's way, it was fine. Sera was free to do as she pleased -- though she may not always tell Estelle what she was doing. And so, here she stood in the shadows, watching the swarm of people on London's streets and waiting. Sera was aware the MI6 was on her trail -- she hadn't exactly been subtle, and she would be perhaps just a little bit concerned if they had not been able to keep up with her at all. She liked a good challenge, and she was completely enamored with the thrill of the chase. Cat and mouse was certainly one of her favorites, and she wouldn't deny it if asked. It was particularly fun when she could trick the mice into thinking they were the cat, stalking its prey; but they never were. It was all in fabricating the illusion, handling the craft with specific and intricate care. She observed each member of the crowd, searching. Someone here was undercover, looking for her just as she was looking for them. Dressed casually today in comfortable pants that allowed speed and easy maneuverability, and a matching jacket to go with, she was ready. A Glock pistol along with two knives were hidden in their usual concealed places in her jacket and various pockets. Hair pulled back in a tight, neat ponytail, Sera was prepared for the game to begin. Not having a particular clue as to what gender her opponent was, Sera was left with hardly anything. But all she had to do was peruse the various people -- so many were distracted, talking or texting on their electronic devices, while others idly chatted with their company. She was looking for somebody who looked out of place, but managed to conceal themselves cleverly among their fellow humans. She doubted it would be two or more, but it was possible, so she didn't exclude the chance of it yet. She scanned those who were by a newspaper stand; a few mingled about, glancing at the papers, and purchasing some items. There was one man in particular, though -- he had approximately shoulder length blonde hair, and was dressed in a rather nice, black business suit. He held a matching suitcase, and she watched as he bought a coffee and a copy of the Crown Royale Gazette. He took a seat on a bench, and opened up the newspaper. Sera identified one of the many headlines: "Serial Killer Loose on the Streets of London". He was familiar, she recognized him. Bingo. Sera grinned, and slipped into the crowd. Let the games begin.

WHY WON'T SOMEBODY COME AND SAVE ME FROM THIS

CODED BY ELECTRIC OF GS AND BTN

[Deleted]

It was a bit too early, at least in Galiena's opinion it was. She had been out late as was common for her, but it was also common for her to sleep in as long as she could. Unfortunately for her, the coroner she wanted to interview was only available before his ridiculously early morning shift. She had not even slept, really. It had been more of a nap after chasing leads into the odds hours of the morning so she would not be completely dead to the world at the even odder hours of the morning to wake up and interview the guy. And was it ever an interesting interview. He personally performed the autopsies on all the deaths in the suspected serial killings of late. While he was not able to disclose much detail on the kills themselves since it was an ongoing investigation, Galiena was able to wheedle out of him his thoughts about the killings. It was technically off the record and it was not like Galiena could use what he said in any stories, since all he shared were his speculations without any hard facts to back them up.

The coroner suspected the serial killings were not your typical run of the mill crazy person going on a killing spree. He suspected they were connected to the mob, maybe even a professional killer. He did not say the word assassination, but oh how the word was ever implied. Organized crime, mafia, assassinations; these were the kinds of things Galiena wanted to sink her teeth into. There had been no newsworthy leads for her to follow and start fully investigating the underground world of London, at least not till now. The excitement of a potential in to investigating the mafia had adrenaline pumping through Galiena's veins. Well, the third cup of coffee in a two hour time frame probably was not helping her jitters either.

After the interview she had set up shop at a corner street cafe, just people watching and occasionally looking through articles written about the serial killings to see if any of the papers had out-scooped her yet. But mostly she people watched. Reporters on a payroll seriously missed out on the best way to find sources. They did not have the time to spare to simply sit in the midst of the crowds and watch people like freelancers could. Galiena had years of people watching under her belt, and liked to brag that she was quite adept at spotting people that would be good to talk to for her purposes.

Take now, for instance. After the hours of just watching, an interesting figure had joined the reading club on the street. He looked like your average businessman on his break. Got himself a coffee and a newspaper from the street vendor and found a nice bench to sot on. But the time of day was rather odd for the average businessman to be on a break. It was too late for him to be going into work, too early for any kind of lunch break. If he was not working today, then why bother with the briefcase and suit? His 'reading' was well practiced, but Galiena knew her own kind. He was people watching too. Was he another freelance writer looking for people that stuck out? But why the disguise? A wicked smile pulled at Galiena's lips as she packed up her stuff into her bag. This man looked interesting and well worthy of her losing her spot to talk to him. 

She meandered through the crowd with an ease possible only with practice, seeing as she was teetering on three inch heeled boots. As she approached the man, she tilted her sunglasses down to allow a brief moment of eye contact as she smiled. Pushing her sunglasses back in place, Galiena sat next to him and 'casually glanced' at his paper. "Can you believe those string of murders?" She asked with a dramatic sigh. "The state this city is coming to, I swear. Have you heard the latest rumors about these deaths though?" Galiena leaned over, elbow on her knee and chin in her hand so she could look up at this man with her slyest smile, as well as have the best view to judge his reaction. "They might be connected to the mafia, can you believe it?" 


//ooc: augh I'll get a posting format eventually anywhos sorry for the wait, been occupied with sewing for a con coming up uwu hope this is ok ahjg been mulling over what to do and decided to actually write stuff before i went to bed

[Deleted]

Word Count: 510
Tags:

Kiku Honda liked things in certain ways.

He liked predictability. Yet Kiku was smart enough to recognize the importance of change. Life was nothing if not change. One change followed by the other. He knew all too well how things could change in an instant.

It had been two years since Kiku had entered the government. Usually around this time, those who worked in diplomatic services were sent abroad. Kiku had yet to be contacted about how his position would be affected. For all he knew, he could be staying in London. Then again, he could also be sent abroad. Of course, there were other options, but Kiku preferred to stay realistic about where he was headed. And that most likely meant he would be posted abroad.

So, while he could, Kiku would allow himself to appreciate the parts of London he had never given himself time to appreciate. Who knew what could happen in the future?

Big Ben. The last time Kiku had visited was when he'd first arrived in London. Actually, that remained very true of almost all of Kiku's visits to places perceived as "iconic." Tourist destinations. Naturally, Kiku had visited all of them. It had been his first time out of Japan and he'd been eager to see what the world had to offer. Until now though, Kiku had never returned to visit. He probably should have. Working in the Foreign and Commonwealth Office meant you had to keep yourself up to date on such matters. It was less important than managing relations with other countries, but was still something expected of his job.

His job...Kiku couldn't help but wonder where he was headed. If only they would tell him.

These thoughts crossed Kiku's mind as he neared Big Ben. He was dressed in his suit, if only because Kiku felt more comfortable dressed formally outside of his home. Tourists swarmed Big Ben, with their maps of London and their chatter. Kiku joined a line to get a cup of coffee. He'd prefer tea, but he was unlikely to find that around here.

It was only out of the corner of his eye that Kiku noticed a familiar figure. A man. Vash Zwingli. Someone Kiku hadn't seen in years. He was surprised. Vash must be here for a reason. Most MI6 agents didn't simply just sit casually at a newspaper stand, sipping coffee. Vash didn't seem like the type to either. Not that Kiku knew the man well, but from what he had seen...

It was enough to make Kiku pause ever so slightly before he noticed someone walking up to Vash. A woman, with shockingly white hair. Was this who Vash was here to meet? Seemed rather conspicuous...

"Sir? Will you have anything?"

Kiku's attention returned. "Ah, yes. I'll have coffee. Black. And one of the papers, please." As the barista handed him the paper before turning to get his coffee, Kiku allowed himself to observe the conversation unfolding before him. He wasn't normally the curious type, but Kiku couldn't help but feel intrigued.

made by MISSO on IOF

[Deleted]

For the past week, the headlines of nearly every newsstand rag had been blaring “SERIAL KILLINGS” in bold, size 78 font, and it had begun to make Ludwig sick. Not because he believed on keeping the public uninformed: he felt quite the opposite, and wanted people to know how to keep themselves safe. But as usual, the tabloid press felt that the only thing more fascinating and inflammatory than the latest celebrity scandal was gruesome local crime, and the reporters for those papers had declared themselves amateur sleuths and were happy to offer up all manner of ridiculous theories as to the identity of the killer. And central to these lurid stories: “why aren’t the police doing more? Why hasn’t the government gotten involved?”

Well, the government had gotten involved, although Ludwig certainly wasn’t at liberty to speak about that. Of course, Parliament had made an official announcement on the matter, which had pacified absolutely no one, and now he could hardly show his face in public without getting recognized and swarmed and bombarded with questions. In fact, so far, he’d been uncharacteristically lucky: not a single person had bothered him when he’d used his lunch break not for lunch but to go on a walk to clear his head. He desperately needed it: he hadn’t been sleeping well, and still had a lot of work to accomplish on top of doing what he could to keep the public calm about the murders.

Dressed in a sharp but relatively plain suit and tie, he looked like just another businessman, although he’d donned a scarf and a hat to somewhat shield his face from the inquisitive. His walk had taken him around the building itself, down a few nearby streets where plenty of other people were enjoying their day in a thoroughly normal, unbothered manner. Ludwig liked his job, but he missed the anonymity of being just another face in the crowd sometimes. Every time he met someone’s eyes he found himself tensing, preparing for the inevitable verbal assault. He felt foolish sometimes: he’d chosen to go into politics, after all, with all the awareness that the job would be a very public one. And for all of the bad, there was the good, too: he’d worked to pass measures and laws that helped people, and liked the occasional trips he got to make to schools or universities. But it was only reasonable that a huge scare like this brought out the worst in people.

Yawning widely, Ludwig covered his mouth, surreptitiously rubbing the dark circles under his eyes. He’d made a nice wide circle of the neighborhood, ending back at Big Ben. The massive clock face on the familiar tower revealed that he still had a chunk of time to kill, and the nearby kiosk that sold papers and magazines had replaced the old cardboard sign for fresh coffee and tea with a new electronic one that blinked brightly. The German made his mind up quickly.

“Good day,” he greeted the owner, digging some coins out of his wallet, ”one coffee please, black, the biggest size you have.”

”Long day?” the owner returned, passing him the cup in exchange for the coins. Ludwig didn’t know the woman’s name, but with her kiosk so close to Parliament, he’d been here more than once before. Thankfully, she never bothered to trouble anyone unless they looked talkative.

”Very,” Ludwig replied, taking his coffee with a grateful nod. ”I’ll be back later.” The barista laughed and waved him off, turning to the next customer; Ludwig walked some distance away, keeping space between himself and the crowd near the kiosk. The coffee was hot and very bitter but did restore him to life a little. As he sipped the drink, Ludwig’s eyes narrowed: in the crowd of strangers, he saw one — no, two familiar faces. But he didn’t feel especially talkative right now, so he resolved to stay here, away from the conversation about the murders going on at the nearby bench. He’d discussed that quite enough for now.

[Vash Alois Zwingli]

THIS IS HOW YOU GET YOURSELF DEAD, FRIEND ♞ His coffee was black. Like his soul. A bitter black coffee without a molecule of sugar. And he preferred it that way. It was like taking the day on with a sense of "I am going to face idiots, but when I face them, I can say I was able to brave through just how bitter this coffee didn't need to be, and that I really should have been able to take on this day head on."  As a general rule of stake-outs, you normally weren't supposed to be talking to people not involved in whatever issue you were pursuing. Talking to people outside the case was risky. After all, you could accidentally, god forbid, involve an outside party! People were naturally curious, especially these Brits, and this wasn't convenient. And so talking to them wasn't a great idea unless you wanted to be distracted. And an agent should be anything but distracted. And besides... Vash wasn't such a great guy when it came to small talk. He simply couldn't do small talk properly, and so he usually refrained from small talk, even if it would have made him seem more in the crowd/party/event. What excuse did he use for not talking? This, my friend, lies in his nationality as a Swissman. Now why is this an excuse? Exactly.  Now of course, one should remark that Vash must be lucky with more things than the stock market. Many man would kill, or even worse, pay to be approached by an exotic flower like the woman that had approached him that day. Men enjoyed that kind of thing, really. This woman, and he would hate to admit it but, was definitely the kind of woman you wanted in your bed. But Vash had no desire for that. Say anything about it, and he isn't going to deny it: If this woman was dressing up to get some sex drives churning, his ran perhaps as fast as Internet Explorer at the moment— meaning none at all. "Can you believe those string of murders? The state this city is coming to, I swear. Have you heard the latest rumors about these deaths though?" Frankly, he was annoyed that she was glancing at his paper and had decided to bother him, especially with the task at hand.  He cleared his throat and shifted his glasses (non-prescription, with some pretty cool functions, courtesy of MI6 laboratories) "It isn't too unusual in a city like this, considering the state of mind people are in. There's bound to be a reckless one in the crowd. And why would I listen to rumors? I appreciate the cold, hard facts." He took another sip of his coffee for effect. Be the boring business man, be the boring business man, be the boring business man who crunches numbers in an office and probably only had fun at "company parties" over a box of donuts and elevator music. Be the kind of person that seems to enjoy elevator music.  "They might be connected to the mafia, can you believe it?" "Yes, they very well might be. There is one wo— well, we can't be tossing around accusations, now can we. It's not my business to be curious in these matters anyways. The police will take care of it like they always do." But of course, it was most certainly his business to be curious in these sort of matters, but he didn't have the proper space to be curious with someone observing him up close. Damn it, Suspect R could have passed right by me, and I probably could have just missed her. I need to shake this one off. He turned the page of his newspaper for effect. Economics. That sounded boring enough to the common people, yes. He looked down at the newspaper, pretending to look extremely interested in an article entitled "The Emerging Market of Uzbekistan". Mmm, economics in Uzbekistan. How enticing. He shifted his gaze to the side, where he noticed two politicians. A Kiku Honda and a Ludwig Beilschmidt. Two politicians, very tempting targets. The murders seemed to have a pattern. Important person, and then what seemed to be a bystander. Important target, then the secretary, who wasn't even in the same room as the important target. Suspect R seems to do assignments, and then has a bit of fun for herself (herself, given the information of a trace of lipstick on the last target's cheek, fresh) after she gets her "work" done. The question would be: Who would be the target? Honda or Beilschmidt? Both of them were rather important in the world of politics. Honda was from the Foreign and Commonwealth Office, Beilschmidt a Member of Parliament. I'll go with Beilschmidt. Besides, Honda was on the force, he'd know what to do. He's not as touchable as he looks. "Now then, I do have some work to do. I would really appreciate it if you let me be," he said. Though of course, that excuse looked like it wouldn't work out... unless he opened up his suitcase. Well crap. He really should have brought more provisions to play the businessman. But for once, Zwingli lied not. He had much work to do, and if his predictions were correct, he would have some people to protect. tag: @open ▪ words: 883 ▪ ooc: mmm coffee

BY KERRIA ♥ OF GANGNAM STYLE

[Deleted]

I MUST ADMIT, I FEEL LIKE A MONSTER

Oh great, this was just her luck. She stopped as she approached the agent she had recognized, before immediately continuing by darting to the side to stay once more out of line of sight from the people near the kiosks and the benches. That long, flowing and silvery hair was unmistakable. Gali. Sera groaned, and had the urge to head towards a backstreet alleyway and find some punkasses to go a few rounds with to get some steam out. Just like the night Leyna had found her and had come heroically to her rescue -- oh yeah, those had been the days. It brought a contented smile to her face, but she shook it off. She had better self-control than that. Time to focus on what to do regarding the albino journalist. She'd been plenty aware that Gali had been suspecting her for a while now, but if she ran into her here during a high-speed chase while taunting the wannabe hero agent guy, it wouldn't bode well for her in the future. Sera was plenty comfortable with her life with Gali and Leyna in it, and she didn't have any intentions of letting either of them go so easily. No, she planned to keep them for a while -- they were certainly entertaining, and she'd grown quite fond of the both of them. They were hers; she wasn't planning on giving them up for the world. Honestly, it seemed as if fate was conspiring against her. Especially after that last fiasco with that police officer and the broker woman. And it wasn't as if she was wearing a disguise, either. This was just perfect. But besides that, there were two particularly recognizable politicians standing in a rather close distance to each other. Kiku Honda and Ludwig Beilschmidt. Mr. Beilschmidt seemed to have the idea that a little costume work would assist in keeping his identity secret from the unsuspecting public -- and perhaps from criminals like her who would take advantage of having such a high-ranking politician in captivity. Her grin returned. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. She studied her options. It was obvious she would be going for Honda or Beilschmidt. From what she recalled, however, Honda had some training as an agent. He'd be able to defend himself. Beilschmidt? Not so much. His large stature would serve her well, certainly. A good height to block her immediate identity from her pursuers in case a confrontation were to happen (and the way things were going as gears turned in her mind, there certainly would be one). Honda, on the other hand, was a bit too scrawny and short for her to be able to effectively hide behind. Although, he did possess quite a large muscle mass. This meant he was most likely strong and could hold his own, and there was a chance he could defend himself. But Sera was counting on her own strength and ability to be able to prevent him from turning the tables on her. Perhaps if she gave him just a bit of a concussion -- or better yet, a syringe filled with liquid that would turn movements sluggish. But that wouldn't do at all... No, she had to be able to have someone who was capable of running and being pushed along as she saw fit, as well as acting as a personal shield in case bullets were fired. The idea of taking the blonde agent himself had been briefly entertained, but dismissed just as quickly as it formed. Despite the fact it would be intriguing and she was sure he wouldn't expect it -- especially with the way he was looking at Honda and Beilschmidt himself. But that would make the game not as fun if her designated mouse couldn't even pretend to be the cat just for just a little while. So, Beilschmidt it was. Before she would make a move, though, she removed her hair tie. She was too recognizable with it up, and she left it in a lower ponytail instead. Tied back so the strands of hair would be removed from her direct line of sight, but taking a bit more to recognize her. She didn't have any contacts on her at the moment, so there was nothing she could do regarding her eye color. She would just have to wear more disguises in the future, but that wasn't anything strange or unreasonable compared to what she had done in the past. She slipped through the crowd easily, snaking her way towards the kiosk where the little group had gathered. The close proximity would be tough to top, with both the agent and Gali right there, but it should be simple enough with all the people and tourists around. Crowded, public areas that were right in front of symbolic and popular tourist attractions were Sera's favorite for a reason. It didn't take long for her to sneak up right behind Beilschmidt. His chosen hat and scarf had only made it easier to identify him, now that she had stored the information away; she could almost snicker at the irony. Glancing at possible options for escape routes -- aka alleyways -- there were some quite close. This would work out well if she could time it right, and if Beilschmidt took the bait. From what she knew about his by the books personality, he seemed to be one who would be quite keen on returning a dropped purse... Sera hefted the purse -- filled with typical things you may find in some such purses, including a wallet with a fake identity -- and she swiftly swung it against his head. Not nearly enough power to knock somebody out, but just enough to disorient someone and make it smart for a little while. "Oops, my bad!" She yelped loudly in his ear, before dropping the bag to the ground. It landed with a muffled thud, and Sera backed off. As soon as she saw the head swivel to see just what had collided with his head, she ran for it to the nearest alley and hoped Beilschmidt was enough of a goody-two-shoes to try to return the deserted purse. She had made it obvious enough it was her, and it would be reasonable enough for him to believe that it had been an accident, and ashamed, she had just left the purse behind and made a break for it, not wanting to face her mistake. Or some other bullshit like that. As long as he took the bait, and the blonde agent noticed (which she was almost positive he would, he had keen eyes), it would go perfectly.

WHY WON'T SOMEBODY COME AND SAVE ME FROM THIS

CODED BY ELECTRIC OF GS AND BTN

[Deleted]

Oh ho, this was a fun guy. His expression was schooled in disinterest, as if her words had no effect on him whatsoever. But he was so obviously annoyed by her presence, and Galiena took a little delight in being a nuisance. Even if her hunch had been wrong and he was just a boring old businessman, at least his day was now as annoying as hers had been.

"Yes, they very well might be. There is one wo-" His response was too fast and devoid of shock to be normal. Galiena perked up with interest as to what he was about to say, but he cut himself off midsentence. "-well, we can't be tossing around accusations, now can we. It's not my business to be curious in there matters anyways. The police will take care of it like they always do."

Dammit. He was totally about to say something interesting, Galiena could feel in it her bones. Why'd he have to go and catch himself to keep up the boring act? Because it was totally an act. This guy was way too fit under that suit to just be your average business man. He resumed his intense reading of the paper, as if the economics section could scare her off. Galiena let silence fall, did not deign his boring reply with a response of her own as she sat back on the bench and adjusted her sunglasses again. She followed the man's gaze to a coffee stand and fought back a smirk.

Oh ho ho this day was getting more and more interesting. If her eyes did not deceive her, there was not one, but two political officials standing around getting some coffee in the middle of the day. And this 'normal businessman' seemed mighty interested in them. Today was definitely looking up.

The man stirred as he said, "Now then, I do have some work to do. I would really appreciate it if you let me be."

Galiena grinned, ready to shoot back with a polite declination of his request, when movement over by their government officials distracted her. Did big buff politician just get smacked in the head by some chick with her purse? And said chick just ran off and left it behind. The hell. She looked back to 'not a businessman' with a raised brow. "Did you just see that too or am I imagining things?"

[Deleted]

Thankfully, the entire time he’d been drinking his coffee, not a single person had recognized or approached him. That was rather uncharacteristically lucky, Ludwig surmised, although he never held much stock in the system of belief in “luck”. Perhaps everyone had other things on their minds, or perhaps his half-hearted attempt at a disguise had worked. Not even the people he knew seemed to have spotted him. Well, he wasn’t going to spend too much time analyzing the situation, but it certainly came as a relief that he’d been left in peace. Ludwig lifted the coffee cup to his lips and drained the last of the bitter dark liquid.

”Agh!”

The empty cup fell from his hand as he covered the spot where he'd been hit, slightly dazed. Someone — a woman — shouted something hastily in his ear, making him wince, and he could hear the sound of pounding feet. A few people were staring at him and Ludwig moved his hand away from his head, unsure of what had even hit him, although it couldn't have been anything hard: the pain was already dissipating. Carefully adjusting his hat, he bent down to retrieve the dropped cup and spied a woman’s purse, a solid-looking thing that clearly didn’t belong to any of the people standing nearby. Glancing up, his eyes found a woman darting away down an alley without even a glance behind her. It took him only a moment to surmise what had somehow happened, and he picked up the purse along with the coffee cup, discarding the latter in a nearby rubbish bin.

”Miss!”

People were staring now, and Ludwig kept his face carefully blank, although he raised his arm holding the purse and waved.

”Miss, your bag!”

The woman apparently couldn’t hear him, and Ludwig grumbled under his breath before tucking the purse under his arm and jogging off, distinctly irritated. The peace he’d felt a moment before, alone with his coffee and his thoughts, had vanished like mist in the sunlight. Thankfully, he exercised every morning if he could, so finding the woman and giving her back her purse wouldn’t take long at the speed he could run, but he had to get back to work and this was an unscheduled interruption in his day. Ludwig didn’t like those, especially when they involved his dashing about in a full suit and tie.

”Miss, wait!”

The alley smelled like soot and garbage but was relatively free of debris, which made running its length easier. The woman had vanished from his field of vision, and Ludwig sincerely hoped she hadn’t boarded a bus or anything like that; getting the purse back to her in that case would be impossible. Ahead, he could see the alley jackknifed into a turn and he didn’t slow down, shoes skidding a little as he rounded the corner in search of the purse’s owner.

[Deleted]

Word Count: 809

Kiku's thoughts were beginning to wander as he thought about where he was about to head off to. He had no agenda today, which meant he could take his time, a luxury that Kiku was very rarely given. Yet he was at a loss. Kiku liked the city, that was for certain, but as he thought about the day ahead, he didn't know where he would go.

A man walked up to the coffee stand. Ludwig. Ludwig Beilschmidt. Kiku had always liked Ludwig. He was a member of Parliament, someone who took his work seriously like Kiku did. Perhaps even more so. If Kiku had been less polite though, he might've laughed a little at Ludwig's attire. Was he trying to hide himself? Kiku could certainly understand why. Politicians were generally all well known. Kiku was no exception to this, however he was much better at blending in. Whether this was his nature or simply yet another skill he had picked up in the MI6, Kiku could not be sure.

His attention was averted as he looked back to Vash. He had the same paper as Kiku had bought... Kiku scanned the headline. Murders...the serial killer. Perhaps that was what Vash was here about.

Kiku returned to his coffee. He would much rather have had chrysanthemum tea or something of the sort. The thought of simply returning home was undeniably tempting. But he was out here and he should at least get something done while he could.

Kiku flipped open the paper. He'd just be some ordinary man wandering the streets for today. He'd enjoy himself—he was determined to.

There was a sudden, almost painful sounding smack that jerked Kiku's thoughts away once again. He didn't catch sight of whoever had done it, but it sounded like a woman.

"Oops, my bad!" Something landed on the ground. A purse? It looked like it. So it had been a woman.

It didn't seem like anything out of the ordinary, though by the way that Ludwig was holding the side of his head (his coffee had fallen and spilled), he'd been smacked there. Kiku frowned. That didn't seem...normal. Ludwig was a tall man, so unless the woman had been unnaturally tall...

...Well, it wasn't completely implausible, right? Westerners were unusually tall, Kiku often felt dwarfed by them. It worked in his advantage back in the MI6 since people didn't tend to view him as a threat, but it was still odd.

"Miss! Miss, your bag!"

So the woman had forgotten her bag. That was mostly normal...

...Was it though? Was it really?

Most women valued their purses. If the woman had been holding the purse in her hand or even across her shoulder, there was next to no chance that she wouldn't have noticed it was missing. Yet here it was, being waved around by Ludwig who was desperately trying not to be noticed.

Moreover...unless the woman was rushing...where had she gone? She couldn't have disappeared that quickly...could she?

In a second, Ludwig took off and abruptly, Kiku found himself on his feet as well.

Perhaps it was the oddity of the entire situation. Perhaps it was Kiku's boredom with the scenery, perhaps it was the newspaper article he'd been skimming when the entire thing had happened. Perhaps it was his paranoia, perhaps it was even Vash. Kiku left his coffee on top of a trash can, his newspaper already forgotten, and headed after Ludwig.

He wasn't worried for Ludwig, necessarily, but with things the way they were, it would be better if the two of them were there together. Even if Kiku's odd suspicions were wrong and it was just a blunder, it would be much easier looking for the woman if the two of them were there.

"Ludwig-san!" he called, the Japanese slipping out as the German slipped into an alleyway and out of sight. An alleyway? Suspicion crept up once again. Why would someone run into an abandoned alley? There were many reasons, but the logical path would be the street, would it not?

Ludwig ran fast, but so did Kiku. Unfortunately, Ludwig's legs were longer and Kiku had to work harder to run half the distance.

The alley turned suddenly, and Kiku slowed ever so slightly until Ludwig was in sight. "Ludwig-san," he called once again. He was a little out of breath, more so than he should have been.

He glanced around. There was no one here, at least no one he could see. The woman was gone, at an unusually fast pace. There was an uneasy feeling in his chest, but Kiku attempted to push it away. "I don't think anyone's around," Kiku commented as he finally began to catch his breath. "But if you're searching for whoever dropped the purse, it'll go quicker with the two of us."

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[Vash Alois Zwingli]

THIS IS HOW YOU GET YOURSELF DEAD, FRIEND ♞ And here is where the action starts, as it seems. Vash was just about ready to drop the boring businessman act and charge into action as he observed a strange event. A woman with a purse simply dropped the fancy carrying apparatus in front of the British politician of German ancestry and up and left. The pair of spectacles that he wore was able to capture video footage of the event as it took place. Let's make analyze what we just saw here, shall we? The woman's hair was styled in a loose, lower ponytail. Quite versatile and fashionable, great for going on a morning jog and keeping your hair out of your face. Hair could be a great inconvenience to anyone on the run. Her eyes were a nice shade of amber. Lovely eyes, really. What a shame for those eyes to hold something cold and calculating in them. Her skin was a nice shade of fair, and it seemed that she was quite an athletic type. In short, someone who could be Suspect R. He kept his gaze on the two politicians, temporarily forgetting his boring business man act. The woman ran off, thank goodness, but it seemed that the two politicians were taking interest in the bag. The manner in which she had dropped the bag definitely was an indication that she wanted one or both of the politicians to follow her. By the way she had interacted with Beilschmidt, it was almost evident that Beilschmidt was her target. If she was Suspect R, of course. which was very likely, because one does not simply hit a man like Beilschmidt on the head with a purse and run off like that (though there were some crazies out there, such as the 'Let's Tear This Shit Down' party that was recently established) without a clear-set purpose. "Did you just see that too or am I imagining things?" asked the albino. "Yes, I did," he muttered, folding the newspaper neatly and hastily putting it into the suitcase, keeping the suitcase away from the albino's sight. He rose from his seat and took off his spectacles and put them inside his inner suit coat pocket. He felt for the gun on the inside of his suit coat, but then refrained— perhaps it wouldn't be a good time to reveal being in possession of a weapon. "If you excuse me, I best be going." Damn it Ludwig. Why aren't you going to ignore the purse? You don't need to go be a hero today. Ludwig had jogged off in a direction, and now. Kiku Honda had jogged off with him as well, which could either be a comfort or something that made him uncomfortable as well. Two to protect. Though of course, Vash would focus on Beilschmidt's protection. Honda knew how to defend himself, from a time when he had worked with the MI6. He briskly walked towards  the direction that the party had ran off to, though it seemed that he had already lost them. He looked back, hoping that no one had followed him. He clutched onto the briefcase firmly, and continued walking. MI6 was being awfully quiet on the other end of the microphone. "I'll need some coordinates if possible, please." There was a crackle through the airwaves, but it seemed that MI6 registered that. "We are unfortunately not able to pinpoint coordinates because none of the other agents have seen them pass through, and it seems you haven't put a tracker on any of the people in question. However, you probably should make sure you aren't being followed." "What?" Vash said, turning around, to see someone indeed was following him. This was most certainly not according to plan. tag: @open ▪ words: 621▪ ooc: Gali could have followed, or anyone else who needs a way to join in!

BY KERRIA ♥ OF GANGNAM STYLE

[Deleted]

I MUST ADMIT, I FEEL LIKE A MONSTER

The high began here. The adrenaline started to pump through her veins, her body's natural chemicals kicking in to give her a boost. Damn, Sera felt good as she sprinted down the alley, leading her prey as deep into the woods she could to trap them. The calls of "Miss, wait!" had not gone unnoticed, but she ignored them for now. It was good that she had picked Beilschmidt out of all the options she had; he had the highest sense of gentlemanly manners, and would of course make an effort to return the purse. The way the voice echoed throughout the slim walking path suggested that he was a farther distance away, but still pursuing -- along with the other man, the Asian one, who had been along with Beilschmidt in the first place. The agent was most likely going to be pursuing after her too, momentarily, but for now it seemed he wasn't -- otherwise, she had assumed that he would have stopped Beilschmidt and forcibly made him leave the premises. Which meant, she was winning so far. It was going well, and she only had a little more ways to go before the real fun could truly begin. She skirted around the corner, cloaked effectively in the shadows, much like a spider would while waiting for its prey to get itself caught on the inescapable web. It was a good, strategic position -- it came to a bigger block in the alleyway, opening up some. She'd be able to take her target easily, and then she'd have multiple ways of escaping -- four routes. It would work well, as long as there wasn't other back up from the agent coming; but this seemed to be a one-man mission, the agent definitely was a lone wolf. Poor judgment on the MI6's part. Pity for him. Time to steady her breathing to a slow, steady pace. Her lungs were straining to pump more and more, in a faster rhythm, but Sera had better control than that. The sounds of the streets were some distance away, and the usual noises of the automobiles wouldn't cover up the heavier breathing in this situation. But it was no matter; she felt in shape, good, and ready to spar. Warm-up, successfully completed.

WHY WON'T SOMEBODY COME AND SAVE ME FROM THIS

CODED BY ELECTRIC OF GS AND BTN

[Deleted]

Where the hell had she gone? Ludwig continued jogging, far from winded, but the woman seemed to have vanished from the earth. He couldn’t hear any footsteps aside from his own pounding ones, and he slowed down just in case, but even then the alley remained empty and relatively silent, save for the quiet echoes of traffic rushing by somewhere distant. Still walking, he glanced around furiously, looking for any hint of the woman. Great, just great. He had half a mind to open her purse and dig out her wallet and start shouting her name, but he doubted that would be helpful. And then if he did find her, the woman would no doubt accuse him of snooping through her things, and he’d end up on the seven o’clock news under some distasteful headline.

”Hello? Miss?” Nothing. Ludwig rolled his eyes. What kind of a person dropped a purse and then took off running?

"Ludwig-san!"

The familiar voice caught Ludwig’s attention, and once more he looked around wildly, slowing to a stop when the other politician came into view. So there had been other witnesses to whatever the hell had happened back at the kiosk. That reassured him, somehow.

”Mr. Honda,” Ludwig greeted politely, tucking the purse under an arm.

"Ludwig-san," the other man repeated, panting just a bit. He clearly didn’t go for daily jogs, Ludwig surmised. "I don't think anyone's around," he continued, ”but if you're searching for whoever dropped the purse, it'll go quicker with the two of us."

The wrinkle that had appeared between Ludwig’s eyebrows vanished quickly with the offer of help. Even if they didn’t end up finding the woman, at least he wasn’t on his own in this whole strange matter.

”Thank you very much,” he answered, relieved. ”I appreciate it.” Glancing around their current locale, Ludwig spied a few possible places where the woman could have run. ”If she’s careless enough to hit me in the head with her bloody purse, maybe she’s dropped something else,” he offered. ”Can you please check down there?” He raised a hand, pointing to one of the branching alleyways. It didn’t look to be especially promising, but Kiku appeared to need a bit of a breather after the run.

”I’ll check this way first, and we’ll meet back here,” Ludwig finished, gesturing down the alley that ran most in line with the direction he’d first been running. A moment after, he jogged off, holding the abandoned purse in his hand again as he scanned the area. He should be back at work in roughly five minutes, he realized, but this whole detour would delay him. With no hint of the mystery woman, he and Kiku were likely searching the area in vain. He’d end up having to turn the purse in to the local police, and he’d have to work overtime tonight to make up for the time spent on this odd quest (not that he didn’t already work overtime, but he’d be home well after dark, at the rate things were going).

”Any luck?” he called loudly, hoping that Kiku could hear him down the other branching path.

[Deleted]

Word Count: 529
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Ludwig turned and Kiku saw surprise flicker over the man's face. He wondered why. He supposed it was unlikely to find one person who would chase after an unknown woman with her purse, or even two.

Kiku honestly just found the entire situation rather perplexing. It just felt unnatural, the entire event, and of course, Kiku felt the need to be in the middle of it.

Ludwig's surprise seemed to vanish once he heard Kiku's offer. "Thank you very much. I appreciate it." He paused. "If she's careless enough to hit me in the head with her bloody purse, maybe she's dropped something else."

The very fact that she hit your head with the purse, Kiku thought, is completely, extraordinarily unlikely. Nearly impossible, he mused. She'd have to be pretty tall or have been swinging the purse fairly high, not to mention she'd dashed off so quickly... He was overthinking, he had to be.

"Can you please check down there? I'll check this way first, and we'll meet back here." Kiku looked in the direction that Ludwig was gesturing to. It was a branch off from the alleyway and honestly, Kiku didn't hold much hope for it. He doubted Ludwig did either. But he nodded anyways. "Of course."

He'd spotted Vash when they were sitting...surely the agent had noticed the oddness of the entire situation. The uneasy feeling just would not leave Kiku. He wished now that he was a few years younger, that he hadn't injured his back and was still in the MI6. That way he'd know for sure what to do instead of standing here wondering.

Kiku jogged down the alley, looking around. His breath evened out, his body finally remembering what it was like to actually work. There was no sign of the woman, which just deepened Kiku's troubles.

"Miss?" he called once. His voice echoed through the alley, bouncing off the walls and returning back to him. Nothing. But somehow he'd already expected that.

His pace slowed. He was reaching the end anyways. Time to head back and meet Ludwig. Hopefully the man had had better luck.

"Any luck?" The echo came through the alley. Kiku turned and began to head back. Apparently Ludwig hadn't found the woman either.

"No," Kiku called. "It seems like she's gone." Yet Kiku found himself glancing back and forth, towards the buildings and the windows that opened up into the alley. There was something so wrong here...it couldn't just end now. He was almost certain.

Trust your instincts, he had been told so many years ago. And his instincts were screaming at him that there was something screwed up and messed up with this situation.

Kiku jogged faster, reaching the junction point where his branch of the alley had split off and looking around for Ludwig. The man wasn't there; perhaps he had simply been heading over when he'd called to Kiku. He turned to the right, heading the way that Ludwig had gone down. Kiku wasn't a man who easily scared. But something unnerved him about all of this.

Politicians being lead down empty alleyways by unseen women? That was just a recipe for disaster.

made by MISSO on IOF