My Kingdom for a Ship

Haydn had always appreciated staring up at the stars. Maybe nowadays the fondness only stemmed from nostalgia, but there used to be something utterly encapsulating about the twinkle of distant suns, separated by space so vast the human mind could only hope to comprehend. Racing through them, on the other hand, was a nauseating, tiring, and - most importantly - expensive experience. It was no wonder why Amadeus hadn't wanted to come along, not like the cat had ever departed Chorus before. Haydn wasn't sure if it was simply because he was unused to space travel after six years of sparingly going interstellar, or if he had never had the stomach for the cheap cruisers that were the only option in his current budget, but either way he would have kissed the ground once off the boarding ramp if weren't for the fact that such would be considered wildly inappropriate in public.

That said ground happened to belong to the city of Kardia in his home state Magnolia really, really, really didn't help the cause either. In any normal circumstance, Haydn wouldn't have even dreamed of setting foot on the planet, let alone right in the middle of its metropolitan area, but sometimes family reunions necessitated such drastic maneuvers. And, unfortunately, there was no reason for his sister to be on Chorus anytime in the near future, not without drawing some suspicions given their last few get-togethers. Which had only left one option for their annual meeting, walking into the belly of the beast itself.

That was metaphorical, of course, Kardia was in fact a beautiful city, even its underworld that he knew quite intimately professed such. All the more reason for unease, in his opinion, the gleam and glitter of every alley and sidewalk couldn't mask the corruption found underneath, no amount of magical parlor tricks could conceal the truth that every resident inevitably faced. Or maybe Haydn was being too harsh, he honestly couldn't tell the difference at that point. It wasn't as if his pessimism changed the fact that he knew every road, glancing down one street and expecting to see a particular vendor but finding in his time away one smiling face had been replaced with another, seemingly more artificial than before. It was only his imagination, of course, Haydn had enough common sense in his brain to know that there was no one out looking for him, he was already gone and forgotten even though he had lived at least adjacent to the metropolis for the majority of his life.

If he were being honest with himself, Haydn probably had a story for every street corner, it was just the way his mind worked. But at that present moment he was not concerned with the muddle of thirty years of joy and terror - much more of the latter if he was being honest - no on his radar was a particularly intrusive diner, on the bad side of town but nevertheless an immovable object in the constant bustle of urban life. Yes, his suitcase was still in hand, but the hotel he had booked was quite a ways away, and he knew how narrow their window of time would be. Oh how he wished things could be different, but unfortunately they never seemed to be.

Someone was following her. She could feel their eyes on her, even now, mere moments from exiting the precinct.

Expecting some level of conflict, Jak decided that her current path wasn't ideal for such an interaction. If someone really was following her, she assumed they had their reasons for good or ill. She scanned the rooftops near to her, looking for any suspicious movement, but finding none. Part of her was sure that she was just being paranoid... but at the same time, she couldn't shake the feeling. So, instead of making her way to the impound lot, Jak took a different route, moving from main streets to side streets, and from side streets to alleyways.

As she moved through the darkened alley, Jak could hear the sounds of someone else approaching from behind. She turned the corner, the sound of footsteps coming not far behind. It was only a moment, but it was enough for her to cut off line of sight: potentially surprise her attacker. She pivoted against the corner, pistol drawn, but-

No one was there.

"Right. Good. Going crazy. Wonderful!"

Jak stuffed her revolver back in its holster, her free hand brushing a bit of hair out of her face, her fingers tracing lines across her scalp. Being in one place so long? She wasn't built for it. She needed the peace. The quiet. The solitude. All these people constantly surrounding her was making her paranoid. She wasn't worried, so much. She was sure she could take care of herself... but the anticipation? It was killing her. And clearly, it was starting to play with her head. She was seeing phantoms and running around like-

Jak turned once. Twice. "Where the hell am-?"

A low grumble escaped Jak's lips. She hadn't been paying attention at all, and now she was in a part of the city she had... never seen before. Across her entire... totally unnecessary escape plan, she had been paying more attention to finding a quiet place to turn the tables than where she would have found herself. And while the street carts and vendors in this part of town offered some interesting sights and smells-

"I should probably make my way back."

Jak started to walk her way through the main street, stopping at a stall along the way, a masked man chuckling somewhere above.

---

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((OoC: And now Jak is in a vaguely-described district, somewhere in the city that she's not familiar with! Seeing as how she's normally NOT in this city, that's most of it, so feel free to fill in any details, presuming we are in the same location.))

A shadow briefly crossed the multicolored brick roadway, causing Haydn to pause in his step for but a moment as he attempted to listen for approaching footsteps. Nothing, absolutely nothing other than the din of the city with some speeder racing above and the sound of his own boots striking concrete as he continued, perturbed. At least the emptiness of the street soon dissipated as a gaggle of schoolchildren soon turned a corner, a variety of foods from ice cream to burgers in hand. Innately knowing the layout of the city, it was obvious that they had just departed the very destination Haydn sought, and the name Gallagher's that was plastered across a few wrappers practically confirmed it. Yes, an amusingly fancy name for the sight that soon beheld his eyes, a stream of unabashed cardinal red and neon lights that glimmered even in broad daylight. It was in fact the moniker that had drawn Haydn and his sister to the place so many years ago, easy enough to say 'We're going to Gallagher's!' without drawing any more attention than a sideways glance.

Haydn, in fact, half expected to see the same woman working the counter, blonde hair pulled into a tight bun as laugh lines told her true age. Given how much time had passed her hair would undoubtedly be gray or white, however, and as he walked into the establishment the familar ringing of a doorbell washed over his ears, although no facial recognition followed it. Glancing around, he didn't find Sam's brunette head peeking out from one of the booths either, nor was she bowed in concentration over a menu so that her circular glasses were the only defining feature recognizable. Haydn sighed, checking his phone in expectation of the nothingness on the screen, other than a picture of his cat. Either she was just running late, or, more likely, someone had found it a bit too suspicious for her to visit a random restaurant tied to her childhood, alone nonetheless.

Regardless, now that he was there, Haydn wasn't just going to leave even if his sister didn't show. In the off chance that she had just lost track of time it would be quite unfortunate, and in any case getting something to eat was probably a good idea considering he hadn't even tried that on the interstellar trip there, oh that would have been unpleasant. Thus, he walked up to the girl behind the counter, a teenager who could as well have been the old woman's granddaughter. A few minutes later and Haydn was sitting at a booth that faced the door into the establishment, sipping a soda and crunching down on an order of fries that tasted exactly the way he remembered. Yet for some reason, his mind circled back to the silhouette from before, a certain sense of foreboding causing him to readjust the lapels of the brown jacket he wore.

The hot dog wasn't bad. She couldn't deny that... but at the end of the day, all it did was make her realize how hungry she had actually been. That, and get poppy seeds stuck in her teeth. She removed her glove, using her pinky nail to dig at the small black specks. After deciding she had somehow managed to make the problem worse, Jak gave up on her efforts, removing her other glove before turning nonchalantly into an alleyway. A quick tap of her badge and Jak's brilliant white and grey armor replaced by a set dominated by black and ochre. Technically, she was on leave still, so while she could certainly help with things as she saw fit, for now, she was deigning to take a break. Because honestly, she didn't want to be disturbed while she was eating. If something bad enough went down, she'd get word from Cheryl, anyways.

Her fingernails were cut fairly short, filed down and painted black. Her hair was swept back, tied into a messy ponytail, her bangs still framing her face. Her face contorted as she walked, her tongue still fighting against the errant bits stuck between her teeth. As she exited the other side of the alleyway, she could smell the faint odor wafting through the breeze. And after a few minutes of following her nose, she managed to make her way to the source: a little restaurant with an garish sign. Her hands jammed into her pockets, Jak approached. It seemed busy enough. And a busy restaurant meant only one of a few things. Either they were fast, good or cheap. And if Jak had any luck at all, it would be at least two of those. As she crossed through the threshold, the sound of tinkling bells alerted all to her presence. And as she stood in the doorway, she quickly scanned the room, as she had been trained to do no less than three times, by no less than three different sources, each with their own reasons and methods. As of right now, Jak's intent gaze rested on everyone, if only for a moment, before being ushered away to a an empty table at the other corner of the room. From there, Jak could watch almost the entire restaurant without even so much as turning her head.

As she waited for her server to arrive, Jak took a moment to look over the menu, though only for a moment, her eyes still trained on the door, waiting for the spectre to make their appearance, even after she had dismissed it as a figment of her imagination. One thing Rousseau's tended to rely on more than anything was their gut. And so, when your gut says your being followed, no matter how unlikely, a Rousseau was wont to ignore it. And even after turning her coffee into an abhorrent mix of cream and sugar with coffee in it, Jak watched the door with interest. She wasn't sure what she was waiting for... But she was confident she'd know it when she saw it. In the meantime, Jak was on high alert, her ears straining to parse through any and all conversations she might be able to eavesdrop on. Knowledge, after all, was power. And Nox had always advised his students to seek power whenever they could do so.

And Jak was always his best student.

On a second thought, maybe it was about time for Amadeus to experience the joys of interstellar wayfaring. Haydn could only stand to observe the trials and tribulations of the teenage relationship being portrayed in a corner booth that was not nearly as obscured as they thought it was for so long, and most of the other patrons were of similar disposition, mundane. Even amidst conversation, most of them carried the Magnolian accent, if not that then a general Fioran one, suggesting that there were no foreigners to casually question or even ponder their oddities. Nor did anyone appear to be in a particular hurry, folks just milling about on the day to day. Eventually, Haydn resorted to watching the door like a hawk, meticulously picking at his fries in a manner certainly uncharacteristic of the ways most went about consuming fast food. That being said, Sam was rarely late without warning. Thus, when the familiar bells jingled, he had to stop himself from compulsively standing, now only recognizing the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

The figure that lingered at the threshold of Gallagher's for longer than usual, however, was not his sister. They in fact had little in common except for gender, the... elf possessing a skin tone that looked like she had spent a bit too much time in the sun, her hair a vibrant vermillion that no one in Haydn's family of blacks, browns, grays, and Emery even came close to. Almost immediately after taking in these details did he register the attire she wore, clothing that screamed the unsavory type. There were no identifying markers on her jacket or armor, of course, but he could easily see her sliding in with the Kardia Kings, or maybe she was with the Brass Hand. Either way, as he focused on her visage once more, trying to see if he recognized her, there was a brief moment of eye contact.

If he hadn't felt his heart pumping before, Haydn certainly did now. Who was she? How had they figured out he would be paying a visit to Magnolia at this specific point in time? Or maybe the woman was there for Sam, in which case what could he even do, against someone who could undoubtedly hold her own in combat? Lost in contemplation of the elf's purpose, Haydn barely noticed as he subconsciously drew his briefcase onto his lap, almost hugging it even as he continued to sip from his soda. He did, however, consciously avert his gaze, for the most part continuing to focus on the door, every so often stealing a glance into the corner where the waitress had seated the woman. In his head, Haydn was calculating what would be the best move, to leave and risk being trailed and shanked in the middle of a dark alley, or to stay within the bounds of civilization and hope she wasn't the destructive type. He revolted at both of them.

Jak's nails clicked sharply against the tabletop, her gaze sweeping over the room as she waited for her burger. It wasn't a bad place. Nice little family atmosphere. Honestly, part of her was worried that she had, perhaps, not picked the best way to present herself. Still... so long as she didn't cause any trouble, it didn't really matter. Besides her tough outer shell didn't seem to be bothering anyone, except-

Her eyes passed over him, but didn't linger, a briefcase clutched tightly by one arm. For a moment, Jak closed her eyes for a moment, sidling into a more comfortable position in the booth. Feet propped up, arm resting on the backrest, Jak's gaze swept across the room again, taking a moment to give the man a closer glance. He looked nervous. Possible hand-off? Seemed probable. Public place, unassuming package, so much sweat you could wash the windows with it? This guy was in over his head. What was in that case, she could only guess... but she doubted it was anything good.

Jak looked around a moment, looking for the guy who'd taken her order. Spotting him, she slipped out of the booth, approaching the waiter and informing him of her intention to sit with the friend she had just spotted. Immediately after, she walked towards the door, turning at the last moment to make a beeline for the nervous, dark-haired man, standing next to his booth, one hand casually resting in front of him.

"I'm going to sit down." she declared, "And we're going to have a conversation."

Her voice was stern. Authoritative. She was not making a suggestion. And, at the moment, she was blocking him from leaving the booth without scrambling over the furniture. And without caring much for the man's answer, Jak sat, staring intensely into the man's eyes, trying to read his character through the range of emotions flashing across his face. A small smile crossed her face as she reached into her coat, an eye trained closely on the man, a small chunk of metal clutched, out-of-sight, and ready to be revealed to the man.

In hindsight... it probably wasn't the best way of retrieving her ISC badge.

---

((OoC: "KILL-SHOT! IT'S A KILL-SHOT!")

Watching, waiting, for what? Was she simply on the prowl, as psychotic as so many of the thugs who ran amuck in Kardia, often flouting magical prowess that could have gotten them so far in life and yet all they ever became was the glorified school bully? Or maybe the woman really was there for Sam, in which case their resemblance was clear enough to note the connection, if the gangster was familiar with her appearance. Anyone with half a brain would have looked her up on the Ethernet, which meant the elf didn't just have a wandering eye. At least his sister was several minutes overdue to their meeting time at that point, which meant she wouldn't be found conspiring with him. It also meant Haydn was going to have to solve his own problems. Maybe getting a refill, yes, that was a totally unassuming gesture. Another soda, stride swiftly toward the door, splash it in the elf's eyes if she tried to follow him out... that would work, right? He really only had one advantage, and that was the fact that he looked the part of an innocent civilian, whereas the woman in the corner didn't even seem to be trying. And he didn't exactly want to shoot her and shed that guise, especially not in front of so many people just going about their day to day, much like he once had.

Unfortunately, as it often went, Haydn wasted too much time deliberating his plan. About to rise, he glanced over and saw his adversary do the same, no, she was already closing the distance between them, the thud of her boots omnipresent in his mind. And unlike what he had been about to do, she was not simply visiting the machine for a refill. A hand was placed on the countertop of the booth, before the woman at last finished her threat with words, crafted in such a way that sent a shudder down Haydn's spine. That was not the tone of any old street criminal, the command held was too precise, too calculating. "Yes ma'am," was all he managed to squeak out, visage betraying his relatively calm response, other than the voice crack at the start, that was.

The woman sat. He could run, call the authorities, but what would he tell them? That the Club had come to collect its dues? The police wouldn't want anything to do with that, and Haydn didn't blame them. Worse yet, they could recognize his- she smiled. And then her hand crossed into a coat pocket. Right for the execution, then. Eyes widening, he scrambled out of his seat, fingers brushing against an object in his pocket as he used both the briefcase he carried and the arcane shield that sprung up from his forearm to attempt to block the incoming bullet, simultaneously making a run for it.

Jak didn't respond much to the man's sporadic actions. It was about what she expected. Criminals were always two things: superstitious and cowardly. Without fail. So, as he made his way to the door, Jak stood up in her own time, watching the direction he was headed through the window as she dropped a handful of credits on the table, scooping up her ISC badge last, from where she had set it on the table. He managed to get out the door, and Jak was a little while behind, choosing to walk to the door... you know: like a normal person. Then, once she exited the door, her demeanor changed completely. From the fairly calm and collected gait of someone without a care in the world... into the frenzied sprint of a hunter, pouncing on her prey.

He turned down an alleyway, no doubt hoping to vanish into the catacomb of intersecting paths... Which would probably have worked, if he didn't move slower than a granny on her way to the buffet bar. Instead, Jak found herself catching up to him just before the first intersection, tackling him to the ground, the pair skidding to a stop in a way that was painful to the both of them... though Jak wouldn't admit it. She mounted him from behind, sitting on his back, her forearm pinning his neck to the ground. She pulled her badge from inside her jacket again, shoving the insignia in the criminal's face as she leaned down next to his ear.

"I'm tryin' ta help you, ya dumbfuck. Shite." she growled, her accent slipping, "You're clearly in over your head. We can protect you."

Jak eased off his neck, sitting up, "So, what's the deal, eh? What's in the package? Drugs? Money? Stolen tech?"

"I'm gonna search it regardless," she continued, not giving room for Haydn to speak, "So you might as well come clean now."

If he calmed down a bit, Jak would let him back up. But honestly, she didn't expect much. Even when caught red-handed, a lot of these punks would fight tooth and nail to evade capture. It only made sense, given their situation... a lot of these runners were just normal folk, forced into a situation that could ruin their lives. Jak would fight too, if her entire life had consisted of training for exactly this situation.