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Back to his roots.

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Back to his roots.

Post by Raikou on June 23rd 2014, 4:41 pm

Alex took in a deep breath as he stepped into the wide lobby of Narita International Airport. It felt good to be back in Japan, after all, this was the place where he first made his name after leaving his home in New York. It was right here, in the streets of Tokyo, that he was given the moniker 'Raikou', or Lightning in the Japanese language. He remembered it like it was yesterday, the fear in that man's eyes as he watched Alex's body crackle and spark with electric energy, before the light left his eyes from the same electrical energy. Smiling, he continued into the terminal, pulling the hood of the black jacket he wore over his head. It would do him no good to be discovered this early upon entering Japan, he was a wanted criminal after all.

"Passport."

The lady at the security desk terminal said to him, holding out a small hand for him. The woman couldn't have been more than twenty-five, small with auburn hair and big brown eyes. Of all the women in the world, there were none that Alex enjoyed more than Japanese women, their screams of anguish we're the best out of all of them. Giving her a cold look, Alex produced his fake passport the deep pockets of the baggy blue jeans he was wearing. After his fight with that Pyro, he had to grab whatever clothes he could before getting the hell out of Canada. The cash he had on him was barely enough for the plane ticket, and he didn't want to draw unneeded attention to himself before he could rest up and his body could properly heal. Giving his passport a quick once over, the security woman gave him a small bow, and a smile, before returning the document to his hand.

"Welcome to Japan, Mr. Sato. Will it be business or pleasure this time?"

Alex grinned. Jacob Sato was the name that was on his passport, a half Japanese student living in the Kanto prefacture of Japan. People we're so easy to fool with just a simple smile, and a joke or two.

"A bit of both, this time."

Alex answered, returning his passport into his jeans. Walking through the security checkpoint was easy, as he had no luggage to check, and took no time at all. Exiting the large airport, he held up a hand, gently waving a thousand yen bill around. (Around 10 USD) Quickly enough, he drew the attention of a taxi, driven by a small, middle-aged man. The man seemed like the friendly type, and looked like he might be a grandfather, with grey starting to creep up the side of his black hair.

"Where will it be?"

The man asked Alex in the most broken English the lightning devil thought he had ever heard. Internally sighing, Alex waved at the man, before getting into his Taxi. Handing the thousand yen note to the Taxi driver, before speaking to him.

"I need to get the the Shibuya district, get me inside the limits of it and there's ten more bills like that for you."

Alex said to him in near flawless Japanese. It was a little known fact, but, Alex was somewhat of a language buff, and often studied new languages in his free time. The man seemed to cheer up at not having to speak in english, and at the thought of an eleven thousand yen trip to Shibuya, the normal rate of which was about what Alex had given him just for stopping.

"Right away sir, would you like music or anything for the ride?"

"No. I want it to be absolutely silent. Every time you talk I'm deducting a thousand Yen bill from your total."

The man seemed to understand, because for the entire sixty-five minute drive, the car was completely silent, minus the gentle hum of the engine. This gave Alex plenty of time to think about what to do. He hadn't failed his bounty, so he would still be getting paid, but his pride took a very large hit, something that he would have to rectify as soon as possible.

"We're here, sir."

Alex nodded at the man, before handing him the promised ten thousand yen. Luckily for both Alex, and the man, Alex kept a grab bag at most international airports. This grab bag contained a multitude of fake passports, as well as cash in a few currencies. Mostly USD, and whatever the local bill was. Canada, however had not been one of the places where he had a grab bag. Of all the places in the world, he did not expect to have any troubles in Canada.

As he stepped from the car, Alex was greeted by the familiar sounds of the bustling Shibuya section of Tokyo. This place was a lively area for the usually younger crowd of Tokyo, and a very popular spot for young tourist especially. Combined that with the recent Otaku phase spreading around America, and the flocking of them to what they perceived as the most 'famous' of Tokyo's sections, it made this a very easy place for even a psychopath meta to blend in and disappear.

Alex gave a small smile as he walked down the streets of Shibuya, he already knew the way there by heart, and the path was always the same, but every time he couldn't help but by marveled by this city. All the lights, the signs, the electronics constantly going off. There was nowhere in the world where Alex felt stronger, this would be the perfect place for him to heal. After fifteen minutes of walking, Alex saw the bar he had been looking for. 'Akuma no den', which translated into Devil's Den in English, was the home of his biggest employer and source of income. Even after three years of working for him, Alex had no idea what his name was, nor did he really care. Pushing open the doors, he was greeted by the familiar scent of Japanese Sake, and Teriyaki.

"Aw, welcome, Lightning-sama"

The bartender said to Alex in English as he entered the bar. The bartender was a rather built man, standing at 6'0, he was tall for a Japanese man, and his black hair was cut short. A former martial arts practitioner, he now served as a bartender and guard for Alex's employer.

"Hello, Asa-San."

Alex also replied in English. As usual, a glass of sake was being poured for him as he approached the bar. After three years of jobs, Asa had become accustomed to serving Alex, and Alex would wager that he would soon be heading in the back to order the Sushi Alex had become so fond of.

"I will call the boss, but, he is in a meeting right now. You may have to wait a while, shall I order your usual?"

Alex smiled. There it was. Though he could storm into the meeting, kill everyone there, and demand his money now, what was the point of ruining a good thing? So he simply nodded at Asa, who left with a bow. If he had to wait, he would at least enjoy some excellent sake, as well as the hospitality of his host.
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Re: Back to his roots.

Post by StarKiller on June 26th 2014, 4:52 am

Arekusa was doing his usual rounds, being that he was a very well known criminal in japan. His black motorcycle was the symbol of his mark, but now he was wearing a black suit and carrying a briefcase.

He liked to come here for info, as usual because of his line of work. Why? Because he needed to get some new equipment for his next project and another infamous title for himself.

Nodding towards the hostess, taking his seat somewhere simple. Waiting around for his sushi and than noticing someone else was here. He looked familiar but what could it be? Starring at his briefcase, he waited around pretending to look nervous.
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Re: Back to his roots.

Post by Raikou on June 27th 2014, 2:16 am

Ring. A bell, the sound of a ringing bell from the direction of the entrance to the bar. The pupils of his cerulean eyes slowly drifted toward the corner of his eyeballs, inconspicuously looking through his peripheral vision to get a view. A man in a suit had entered, much to Alex's dismay. Sighing, he set his glass of sake down on the bar in front of him, loud enough for Asa to hear, and come to the attention of the psychopathic patron.

"I'm sorry Asa, but, did I not make it clear when your boss first hired me that the bar was to be emptied and closed when I came in? I would hate to kill you after three years of fine service."

Asa bowed, placing his hands together in front of him in a form of apology.

"Gomen'nasai, Lightning-sama, but I believe he is a sub contractor for the boss."

Alex grunted, waving Asa away with one hand. Straightening himself to his full height on the barstool, Alex let a little bit of lightning crackle off of him, cracking a few bottles of Alcohol behind the bar. In the mirror that lined the back of the alcohol display, Alex watched the man take his seat, and order from the hostess.

"So, business man. What is your purpose for being here? I don't like my meals disturbed."
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Re: Back to his roots.

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