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Goddamn Yakuza....
Page 1 of 1
Goddamn Yakuza....
by Alisa Donnikova Sat Dec 24, 2011 1:50 am
Well well well.... Aerugo. When was the last goddamn time she had been here? Oh yeah, on that job for Toriyama or what did he call himself... Right. The Tiger. THAT was his alias. Yeeaaaa she could always remember that so much easier than those goddamn long aerugese names that people had. Always too many syllables and said too fast. You could say she didn't make that many friends here. Or at least those that did, didn't really care that she messed up their names a bit. Wasn't like she ever had to do business often in Tokyo anyways.
Except today.
Right now, Alisa found herself delivering a package to the yakuza. A very.... special package. Something about tender parts, she honestly hadn't really asked. Oh yeah, and some guys finger as proof of the completed job. Now the privates she hadn't done. Those had been left for her to bring here. Wonder how big the guy had been.... Ack! Now was not the time to think about that sort of shit. It was already weird enough she had to carry around some guys balls. Hey, some people were into some sick shit. Wasn't like she was one to question it. A job was a job, and all she really cared about was getting paid. Then she could go buy more BOOZE! How long had it been since she'd had sake? Aw fuck, she didn't know. All she knew was that she wanted some shit, and she wanted it NOW.
Her eyebrows were twitching. Had these people not seen a chick smoke before? Ohhhhh she knew what it was.... It was because she was a mixed xingese bitch wasn't it? Oh yeah, that had to be it! Her shoulders were hunched, hands stuffed in those tiny pockets of her ripped up shorts that were probably too short for their standards with a cigarette dangling from between her lips. Oh, and did she forget to mention her Cutlasses hanging underneath her arms? Yeah, those might draw some attention too. Whatever, she didn't fucking care. Where she went, her guns went. And if someone wanted to try separating her from them, they might as well sign their fucking death warrant. Even if the yakuza wanted her to leave her guns at the door, she'd just have to explain how that wasn't possible. What, it wasn't like she was going to shoot everyone! She wasn't getting paid for killing them. That'd be fucking dumb anyways. Talk about a death sentence. Heh...
Turning a corner, she noticed the modest little hostess club, sighing as she remembered how she had been asked repeatedly to become a dominatrix one of the times she had been here. Nope. Just not her thing. She didn't get wet from being tied up or tying someone else up. Nor was this sidling up and smiling her thing either. Pffft, that was a joke! Stepping inside, the girls were a bit perplexed at her presence, but she just looked for some guy that was the-- bouncer. A-ha! Oh shit, languages. Uh... uh... fuck. "Er.... Ok, so what do you guys understand? Cuz I definitely don't speak your language." "Drachman?" "Cretan? "Or Amestrian? Look, I just gotta make this delivery ok? To some guy uh... Aw fuck.. Waka..Wakagi... Wakagashira! Yea, him." Oh please let them speak something she could understand otherwise this could turn ugly. Fuck.
Except today.
Right now, Alisa found herself delivering a package to the yakuza. A very.... special package. Something about tender parts, she honestly hadn't really asked. Oh yeah, and some guys finger as proof of the completed job. Now the privates she hadn't done. Those had been left for her to bring here. Wonder how big the guy had been.... Ack! Now was not the time to think about that sort of shit. It was already weird enough she had to carry around some guys balls. Hey, some people were into some sick shit. Wasn't like she was one to question it. A job was a job, and all she really cared about was getting paid. Then she could go buy more BOOZE! How long had it been since she'd had sake? Aw fuck, she didn't know. All she knew was that she wanted some shit, and she wanted it NOW.
Her eyebrows were twitching. Had these people not seen a chick smoke before? Ohhhhh she knew what it was.... It was because she was a mixed xingese bitch wasn't it? Oh yeah, that had to be it! Her shoulders were hunched, hands stuffed in those tiny pockets of her ripped up shorts that were probably too short for their standards with a cigarette dangling from between her lips. Oh, and did she forget to mention her Cutlasses hanging underneath her arms? Yeah, those might draw some attention too. Whatever, she didn't fucking care. Where she went, her guns went. And if someone wanted to try separating her from them, they might as well sign their fucking death warrant. Even if the yakuza wanted her to leave her guns at the door, she'd just have to explain how that wasn't possible. What, it wasn't like she was going to shoot everyone! She wasn't getting paid for killing them. That'd be fucking dumb anyways. Talk about a death sentence. Heh...
Turning a corner, she noticed the modest little hostess club, sighing as she remembered how she had been asked repeatedly to become a dominatrix one of the times she had been here. Nope. Just not her thing. She didn't get wet from being tied up or tying someone else up. Nor was this sidling up and smiling her thing either. Pffft, that was a joke! Stepping inside, the girls were a bit perplexed at her presence, but she just looked for some guy that was the-- bouncer. A-ha! Oh shit, languages. Uh... uh... fuck. "Er.... Ok, so what do you guys understand? Cuz I definitely don't speak your language." "Drachman?" "Cretan? "Or Amestrian? Look, I just gotta make this delivery ok? To some guy uh... Aw fuck.. Waka..Wakagi... Wakagashira! Yea, him." Oh please let them speak something she could understand otherwise this could turn ugly. Fuck.
Alisa Donnikova- Posts : 100
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Re: Goddamn Yakuza....
by Guest Sat Dec 24, 2011 3:39 am
Through the thin walls of the little hostess club, a crash was heard. Many muffled curses followed, leaking through those very walls in high volumes. One would typically think that a deal had possibly gone wrong and someone was about to get shot, but in all actuality...
The brusque man turned to give the newcomer a weird look. She was frightening the maids without even trying...? He understood only one language she was speaking and pretty much only gathered the fact that she was there to see the Waka. No wonder. He frowned visibly and merely turned his head to yell in a deep, angry voice for someone else. What? He was the bouncer; he didn't deal with that kind of shit.
Another man ran up, profusely bowing as if the bouncer had somehow wronged her. With tattoos just barely stopping beyond his cheek bones, he lead her into the back. Dodging little round tables with drooling men and omelet rices, they reached a black curtain where she was then told to wait as the yelling grew only louder. But not even five minutes after the man disappeared beyond the curtain, the profuse language abruptly stopped, cut off mid word: "FU--huh?" Whispers wafted through the velvet veil that was soon drawn away by the same man who then exaggeratedly motioned her inside. "She doesn't speak Aerugese?" There was a let-down tone in the speaker's voice who was soon revealed when the lights were drawn from dim to overly bright.
Makoto Kiyoshino: the Wakagashira of the Yamaguchi-gumi. He stood and bowed respectfully, melty caramel eyes intently on hers. ...in all actuality they had been playing a game of Apples to Apples. The cards were scattered all over the place and the table was tipped awkwardly on its side. Behind him, a bunch of angry yakuza glared graciously at the girl in the short shorts. They looked about ready to draw each others blood, save for the fact that most of them were wearing grins, alluding to the very possible truth that they were having fun arguing over the occurrence that all their hard work had just gone to waste due to the table-flipping incident. A man stood and shuffled over to Makoto's side. His eyebrow was pierced, but by no means was his stare piercing. His mouth opened, revealing minty fresh breath and completely fluent Xingese.
"It is an honor to see you here, __?" He paused, waiting for her name before continuing with a gold-toothy grin, "This is Makoto Kiyoshino whom you are to deliver the package. Do you have it on your person?" He studied her a moment, knowing full well that she was holding it right there in her hands. It was just the polite way of asking around the question. Makoto, too, was staring intently at the box, although in no way was he interested in it; it was just another thing to deliver to his father's hands. In other words, it was just another mishap of one of their 55,000 men. He rolled his eyes and met the gaze of one of the angry-looking men hovering about the cards as if it had been his dinner and he was famished.
"I thought I had Adolf Hitler. That was a fucking autowin card. I would have beat Bunji for once god fucking dammit!!" The man barked, using Xingese most likely because that seemed to be the language currently being wielded. Makoto blinked and turned back to the girl sporting way too many guns.
"Save it, Satoshi," Bunji said, running a hand over the koi fish tattoo whose tail was just barely flipped above his cheek bone. "That was Waka's card. It's also rude to him to be using Xingese," he finished in Aerugese, stepping forward.
Makoto, winded by the sporadic use of Xingese, shot disrupted glares to both Satoshi and Bunji. Cracking his knuckles, he reached into the pocket of his black suit, dodging the bright red tie. There, his thick fingers wrapped around an envelope. Drawing it out, he approached the girl who appeared to be a split between races...since he couldn't exactly tell what she was. He ginned--a strange mix of angry and highly amused. Some of the men in the background exchanged weird looks. Makoto never smiled. Why was he smiling? He didn't even know nor care to think about it. Instead, he whipped out the money and smacked it right down on top of the box in which he took into his own hands, waiting for her to retrieve the money off the top since he had become handless. Satoshi came up and took to box off into some room. Some of the others filed out, leaving him with just Bunji and two others that looked way too mean for any sort of comfort to be had.
"Bunji, translate." He took a breath, swatting a loose bang that flipped into his eye from his slicked back hair, pulled into a high half-ponytail in the back. "Alisa, normally these kinds of tasks are given to our own members, but an exception was made somewhere--not by me. I really appreciate that you have brought this to us unscathed. Not many non-yakuza could have accomplished such a feat. So I thank you." He lowered his head just slightly, extorting a half-gasp from one of the men behind him. Mako turned with a ferocious look. "WHAT EHHH!? He turned back to Alisa with a softened stare. "In honor of this, would you like to join us for dinner?"
Bunji nodded and sucked in a breath of fresh perfumed air. "He says that normally these kinds of tasks are given to our own members, but an exception was made somewhere--not by him. He really appreciates that you have brought this to us unscathed. And that not many non-yakuza could have accomplished such a feat. He thanks you..." Bunji shot a nervous look at the other man who was silently watching. "Wak--Makoto would like to know if you would like to join us for dinner, seeing as we have not yet eaten. Of course, the others will not be joining us. We understand that...they are somewhat intimating. Though, you look like you can handle yourself well, Alisa-san."
The brusque man turned to give the newcomer a weird look. She was frightening the maids without even trying...? He understood only one language she was speaking and pretty much only gathered the fact that she was there to see the Waka. No wonder. He frowned visibly and merely turned his head to yell in a deep, angry voice for someone else. What? He was the bouncer; he didn't deal with that kind of shit.
Another man ran up, profusely bowing as if the bouncer had somehow wronged her. With tattoos just barely stopping beyond his cheek bones, he lead her into the back. Dodging little round tables with drooling men and omelet rices, they reached a black curtain where she was then told to wait as the yelling grew only louder. But not even five minutes after the man disappeared beyond the curtain, the profuse language abruptly stopped, cut off mid word: "FU--huh?" Whispers wafted through the velvet veil that was soon drawn away by the same man who then exaggeratedly motioned her inside. "She doesn't speak Aerugese?" There was a let-down tone in the speaker's voice who was soon revealed when the lights were drawn from dim to overly bright.
Makoto Kiyoshino: the Wakagashira of the Yamaguchi-gumi. He stood and bowed respectfully, melty caramel eyes intently on hers. ...in all actuality they had been playing a game of Apples to Apples. The cards were scattered all over the place and the table was tipped awkwardly on its side. Behind him, a bunch of angry yakuza glared graciously at the girl in the short shorts. They looked about ready to draw each others blood, save for the fact that most of them were wearing grins, alluding to the very possible truth that they were having fun arguing over the occurrence that all their hard work had just gone to waste due to the table-flipping incident. A man stood and shuffled over to Makoto's side. His eyebrow was pierced, but by no means was his stare piercing. His mouth opened, revealing minty fresh breath and completely fluent Xingese.
"It is an honor to see you here, __?" He paused, waiting for her name before continuing with a gold-toothy grin, "This is Makoto Kiyoshino whom you are to deliver the package. Do you have it on your person?" He studied her a moment, knowing full well that she was holding it right there in her hands. It was just the polite way of asking around the question. Makoto, too, was staring intently at the box, although in no way was he interested in it; it was just another thing to deliver to his father's hands. In other words, it was just another mishap of one of their 55,000 men. He rolled his eyes and met the gaze of one of the angry-looking men hovering about the cards as if it had been his dinner and he was famished.
"I thought I had Adolf Hitler. That was a fucking autowin card. I would have beat Bunji for once god fucking dammit!!" The man barked, using Xingese most likely because that seemed to be the language currently being wielded. Makoto blinked and turned back to the girl sporting way too many guns.
"Save it, Satoshi," Bunji said, running a hand over the koi fish tattoo whose tail was just barely flipped above his cheek bone. "That was Waka's card. It's also rude to him to be using Xingese," he finished in Aerugese, stepping forward.
Makoto, winded by the sporadic use of Xingese, shot disrupted glares to both Satoshi and Bunji. Cracking his knuckles, he reached into the pocket of his black suit, dodging the bright red tie. There, his thick fingers wrapped around an envelope. Drawing it out, he approached the girl who appeared to be a split between races...since he couldn't exactly tell what she was. He ginned--a strange mix of angry and highly amused. Some of the men in the background exchanged weird looks. Makoto never smiled. Why was he smiling? He didn't even know nor care to think about it. Instead, he whipped out the money and smacked it right down on top of the box in which he took into his own hands, waiting for her to retrieve the money off the top since he had become handless. Satoshi came up and took to box off into some room. Some of the others filed out, leaving him with just Bunji and two others that looked way too mean for any sort of comfort to be had.
"Bunji, translate." He took a breath, swatting a loose bang that flipped into his eye from his slicked back hair, pulled into a high half-ponytail in the back. "Alisa, normally these kinds of tasks are given to our own members, but an exception was made somewhere--not by me. I really appreciate that you have brought this to us unscathed. Not many non-yakuza could have accomplished such a feat. So I thank you." He lowered his head just slightly, extorting a half-gasp from one of the men behind him. Mako turned with a ferocious look. "WHAT EHHH!? He turned back to Alisa with a softened stare. "In honor of this, would you like to join us for dinner?"
Bunji nodded and sucked in a breath of fresh perfumed air. "He says that normally these kinds of tasks are given to our own members, but an exception was made somewhere--not by him. He really appreciates that you have brought this to us unscathed. And that not many non-yakuza could have accomplished such a feat. He thanks you..." Bunji shot a nervous look at the other man who was silently watching. "Wak--Makoto would like to know if you would like to join us for dinner, seeing as we have not yet eaten. Of course, the others will not be joining us. We understand that...they are somewhat intimating. Though, you look like you can handle yourself well, Alisa-san."
Guest- Guest
Re: Goddamn Yakuza....
by Alisa Donnikova Sat Dec 24, 2011 1:12 pm
What in the fucking hell was going on back there? Alisa was getting put on edge as she listened to those curses but honestly? Kind of felt like home. So few places really held that criminal air smelling of bloody gutters and death... Oh, and can't forget the fucking money. Yeah, if there wasn't a hint of those dollar bills, then that person? They were just like her. Some kind of rabid dog whose pass time was shooting any person they were compelled to shoot. Ah, but the bouncer in front of her seemed to understand one of those languages (not that he answered her the prick), he just shouted! God she did not understand their language at all. Whatever, she could ignore them until they did speak something she understand! There were whispers behind her, and her fingers twitched on the packages in her hand as she turned to look at those trembling excuses for women. Oh thats fucking right you better look the other fucking way you bunch of bitches. What were you doing? Ugh, fucking pretenders... Did they like what they did? Oh wait, she didn't actually give a flying fuck.
There was movement as another man came up bowing like he was some fucking servant. "You can stop, I promise I'm not fu- I'm not offended." Oh yeah... That was some kind of custom in Aerugo wasn't it? Yuck. Nope, she was not one that was meant for manners at all. Fuck 'em. Pretty words just filled the air with nonsense, a gun could get you to the point so much faster right? Heh... Guess she should at least tone down on her cursing though (but they were the yakuza right? So they really wouldn't care in the end).
Ah, a curtain. How... mysterious. Pfft. She had half expected a backroom as opposed to this. Shows just how often she dealt with any kind of mob. Well, there were those Drachman's she used to deal with ages ago.... No. Fuck that. She was NOT thinking of that goddamn place-- Yelling? Or rather, cut off yelling? Placing a hand on her hip, she took one last draw on her cigarette before glancing around for an ashtray. This was a hostess club right? So where were the goddamn ashtrays huh? Fuck... Huh? Oh, time to head in. The distinct voice was saying something, not even trying to puzzle out what it was as she stepped behind that black curtain as bright lights came on overhead. Ack fuck! "Ack some fucking.. warning..." She stopped as she finally actually could see, blinking as she stared up at the man before her. Or well, his eyes. She found herself bowing her head despite her usual demeanor, straightening up as she glanced beyond him to see the cards strewn everywhere. Oh. A boardgame? Hahaha... Now there was some fucking irony!
Alisa merely folded her arms as a smirk came over her features, a small chuckle in her throat. "Please, don't let me interrupt." She muttered in Xingese, knowing full well that they might understand her. Half the point really. Oh her amusement knew now bounds at this sight! Well, guess yakuza couldn't be off killing people or selling bitches (or fucking them for that matter) all the time hm? "It is an honor to see you here, __?" Ah, Xingese. Thank fucking god... "Alisa Donnikova. Just Alisa is fine." She answered the man with the golden smile, reminded once more of the intense hygiene that the Aerugese followed. Two baths a day just seemed.... excessive. Ok two if you had some intense work, or an intense fuck but two just because...? Seemed like a fucking waste of water to her. Oh well, it wasn't her place to judge. "This is Makoto Kiyoshino whom you are to deliver the package. Do you have it on your person?" Makoto Kiyoshi.... FINALLY. An Aerugese name she could maybe actually fucking say! Go fucking figure right? "Right here boy-o. All safe and... squishy." Chuckling, she lifted it up and waved it a little bit before lowering it back to her side with a small tilt of her head.
Huh. So it seemed Makoto was rather bored of this whole transaction. What, receiving a dick and balls wasn't what you always wanted? True, it wasn't on her christmas list but... Ugh whatever! Another voice broke into her head, making an eyebrow twitch as she stared, ok glared, at the man hovering over the table. "I thought I had Adolf Hitler. That was a fucking autowin card. I would have beat Bunji for once god fucking dammit!!" She had to take a deep, calming breath before finally spotting an ashtray and quickly leaning over to put out her cig. Another one was procured from one of her small pockets, leaving it hanging in her mouth as she watched the man get reprimanded. At least until she realized that Makoto was looking at her again. That drew her attention as she slowly slipped the cigarette box back into her pocket. Lighter.. lighter... Aw fuck, she had run out of juice on the way here... FUCKING ASS!! She should have stopped by one of those convenience stores to get a new one! Ah shit... was it too impolite to ask for a light from one of them? They were yakuza! They had to smoke! That was one of their trademarks! At least in her experience.
Oh. Aerugese again. Fuck. Well, now she'd be lost again. Whatever... And she couldn't even hide behind some other transaction either. Tits, she should have learned Aerugese when she was younger. There was no way she was going to- money? Alisa felt her hands tense up as she saw the handsome Waka-whatever reaching into his jacket, fully ready to draw her Cutlasses just in case it was a gun instead of money. Oh good... An envelope. Money it was! And he was staring only at her, so she stared right back, the dark brown of her eyes quite the contrast to his caramel. Ah fuck she did have a weakness for striking eyes... But now he was smiling, and an odd smile at that as she had resumed more of an impassive expression somewhere between apathy and annoyance. How could she not have a lighter... But there it was, the money was thrown down. Time to get paid for a job well done.
Stepping forward, she placed the package down on top of the box as she picked up the envelope, slipping it down her shirt with a small smirk. Excellent. A nice weighty envelope. Oh man, how much booze could she get with that?! Aw shit... She also needed to buy bullets... FUCK. Maybe she shouldn't have gone on that binge before.... Bunji. That seemed like a name as the man who had spoken Xingese before seemed to move a bit. Aaaand.... Yeeeaa... Words she did NOT understand. It was a good fucking thing that her Xingese wasn't rusty otherwise this transaction could have proved a problem. Not that Sp-... Fuck. No, he could go off with his mouse if he wanted to. Let him. She was better suited for him anyways. JOB. FUCKING JOB. FUCK she really had to stop thinking so goddamn much! Oh, it seemed Makoto was lowering her head a little which summoned quite the reaction from his lackey. Well well.... Looked like Makoto had claws... Excellent. That brought a chuckle from her, only able to imagine what had been shouted, an amused smirk upon her lips as her eyes met his once more. Now that sounded like a question, her eyes turning expectantly to Bunji next to him.
"He says that normally these kinds of tasks are given to our own members, but an exception was made somewhere--not by him. He really appreciates that you have brought this to us unscathed. And that not many non-yakuza could have accomplished such a feat. He thanks you..." Oh really now? Well wasn't that fucking peachy. Guess it was good for her that she had gotten the job eh? More money for her! Wasn't like she was being wise with it lately anyways. Another nervous glance. What the fuck was with these guys? There was a reason she'd never join a mob, she never understood all that shit that went on between them. She almost made a comment, but then Bunji continued, "Wak--Makoto would like to know if you would like to join us for dinner, seeing as we have not yet eaten. Of course, the others will not be joining us. We understand that...they are somewhat intimating. Though, you look like you can handle yourself well, Alisa-san." What. The. Fuck?!
Her eyes went wide as an eyebrow raised, glancing to Makoto who stood there watching with that... softness... ARGH WHAT THE PISS?! "Pfft, I've dealt with such "intimidating" men before, I'm not worried." She scoffed, taking the unlit cig out of her mouth as she folded her arms over her chest once more. "I'm glad I could help with this little matter, and Kiyoshi-san is most welcome. As for food..." Here she had to pause, a finger coming up to tap her chin thoughtfully, brown eyes flickering between the men that were there. Her? Eating with yakuza? A faint smile rose to her lips as she shrugged, casting her hands upwards in a very 'what-fuck-ever' sort of manner. "Sure! Why not. Not like I eat Aerugese food everyday heh. Or get sake." Ah booze.... She licked her lips at the thought, now gazing steadily upon Makoto as she waited for Bunji to translate. So what was going to happen this time huh?
There was movement as another man came up bowing like he was some fucking servant. "You can stop, I promise I'm not fu- I'm not offended." Oh yeah... That was some kind of custom in Aerugo wasn't it? Yuck. Nope, she was not one that was meant for manners at all. Fuck 'em. Pretty words just filled the air with nonsense, a gun could get you to the point so much faster right? Heh... Guess she should at least tone down on her cursing though (but they were the yakuza right? So they really wouldn't care in the end).
Ah, a curtain. How... mysterious. Pfft. She had half expected a backroom as opposed to this. Shows just how often she dealt with any kind of mob. Well, there were those Drachman's she used to deal with ages ago.... No. Fuck that. She was NOT thinking of that goddamn place-- Yelling? Or rather, cut off yelling? Placing a hand on her hip, she took one last draw on her cigarette before glancing around for an ashtray. This was a hostess club right? So where were the goddamn ashtrays huh? Fuck... Huh? Oh, time to head in. The distinct voice was saying something, not even trying to puzzle out what it was as she stepped behind that black curtain as bright lights came on overhead. Ack fuck! "Ack some fucking.. warning..." She stopped as she finally actually could see, blinking as she stared up at the man before her. Or well, his eyes. She found herself bowing her head despite her usual demeanor, straightening up as she glanced beyond him to see the cards strewn everywhere. Oh. A boardgame? Hahaha... Now there was some fucking irony!
Alisa merely folded her arms as a smirk came over her features, a small chuckle in her throat. "Please, don't let me interrupt." She muttered in Xingese, knowing full well that they might understand her. Half the point really. Oh her amusement knew now bounds at this sight! Well, guess yakuza couldn't be off killing people or selling bitches (or fucking them for that matter) all the time hm? "It is an honor to see you here, __?" Ah, Xingese. Thank fucking god... "Alisa Donnikova. Just Alisa is fine." She answered the man with the golden smile, reminded once more of the intense hygiene that the Aerugese followed. Two baths a day just seemed.... excessive. Ok two if you had some intense work, or an intense fuck but two just because...? Seemed like a fucking waste of water to her. Oh well, it wasn't her place to judge. "This is Makoto Kiyoshino whom you are to deliver the package. Do you have it on your person?" Makoto Kiyoshi.... FINALLY. An Aerugese name she could maybe actually fucking say! Go fucking figure right? "Right here boy-o. All safe and... squishy." Chuckling, she lifted it up and waved it a little bit before lowering it back to her side with a small tilt of her head.
Huh. So it seemed Makoto was rather bored of this whole transaction. What, receiving a dick and balls wasn't what you always wanted? True, it wasn't on her christmas list but... Ugh whatever! Another voice broke into her head, making an eyebrow twitch as she stared, ok glared, at the man hovering over the table. "I thought I had Adolf Hitler. That was a fucking autowin card. I would have beat Bunji for once god fucking dammit!!" She had to take a deep, calming breath before finally spotting an ashtray and quickly leaning over to put out her cig. Another one was procured from one of her small pockets, leaving it hanging in her mouth as she watched the man get reprimanded. At least until she realized that Makoto was looking at her again. That drew her attention as she slowly slipped the cigarette box back into her pocket. Lighter.. lighter... Aw fuck, she had run out of juice on the way here... FUCKING ASS!! She should have stopped by one of those convenience stores to get a new one! Ah shit... was it too impolite to ask for a light from one of them? They were yakuza! They had to smoke! That was one of their trademarks! At least in her experience.
Oh. Aerugese again. Fuck. Well, now she'd be lost again. Whatever... And she couldn't even hide behind some other transaction either. Tits, she should have learned Aerugese when she was younger. There was no way she was going to- money? Alisa felt her hands tense up as she saw the handsome Waka-whatever reaching into his jacket, fully ready to draw her Cutlasses just in case it was a gun instead of money. Oh good... An envelope. Money it was! And he was staring only at her, so she stared right back, the dark brown of her eyes quite the contrast to his caramel. Ah fuck she did have a weakness for striking eyes... But now he was smiling, and an odd smile at that as she had resumed more of an impassive expression somewhere between apathy and annoyance. How could she not have a lighter... But there it was, the money was thrown down. Time to get paid for a job well done.
Stepping forward, she placed the package down on top of the box as she picked up the envelope, slipping it down her shirt with a small smirk. Excellent. A nice weighty envelope. Oh man, how much booze could she get with that?! Aw shit... She also needed to buy bullets... FUCK. Maybe she shouldn't have gone on that binge before.... Bunji. That seemed like a name as the man who had spoken Xingese before seemed to move a bit. Aaaand.... Yeeeaa... Words she did NOT understand. It was a good fucking thing that her Xingese wasn't rusty otherwise this transaction could have proved a problem. Not that Sp-... Fuck. No, he could go off with his mouse if he wanted to. Let him. She was better suited for him anyways. JOB. FUCKING JOB. FUCK she really had to stop thinking so goddamn much! Oh, it seemed Makoto was lowering her head a little which summoned quite the reaction from his lackey. Well well.... Looked like Makoto had claws... Excellent. That brought a chuckle from her, only able to imagine what had been shouted, an amused smirk upon her lips as her eyes met his once more. Now that sounded like a question, her eyes turning expectantly to Bunji next to him.
"He says that normally these kinds of tasks are given to our own members, but an exception was made somewhere--not by him. He really appreciates that you have brought this to us unscathed. And that not many non-yakuza could have accomplished such a feat. He thanks you..." Oh really now? Well wasn't that fucking peachy. Guess it was good for her that she had gotten the job eh? More money for her! Wasn't like she was being wise with it lately anyways. Another nervous glance. What the fuck was with these guys? There was a reason she'd never join a mob, she never understood all that shit that went on between them. She almost made a comment, but then Bunji continued, "Wak--Makoto would like to know if you would like to join us for dinner, seeing as we have not yet eaten. Of course, the others will not be joining us. We understand that...they are somewhat intimating. Though, you look like you can handle yourself well, Alisa-san." What. The. Fuck?!
Her eyes went wide as an eyebrow raised, glancing to Makoto who stood there watching with that... softness... ARGH WHAT THE PISS?! "Pfft, I've dealt with such "intimidating" men before, I'm not worried." She scoffed, taking the unlit cig out of her mouth as she folded her arms over her chest once more. "I'm glad I could help with this little matter, and Kiyoshi-san is most welcome. As for food..." Here she had to pause, a finger coming up to tap her chin thoughtfully, brown eyes flickering between the men that were there. Her? Eating with yakuza? A faint smile rose to her lips as she shrugged, casting her hands upwards in a very 'what-fuck-ever' sort of manner. "Sure! Why not. Not like I eat Aerugese food everyday heh. Or get sake." Ah booze.... She licked her lips at the thought, now gazing steadily upon Makoto as she waited for Bunji to translate. So what was going to happen this time huh?
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Re: Goddamn Yakuza....
by Guest Thu Dec 29, 2011 1:35 am
The koi fish tattoo on his cheek seemed to squirm as Bunji shed one of his frequent smiles. Lovely," he cooed, turning his frosty black eyes to Makoto who looked more than curious as to what the gun-ho woman had said. His leader made a get-a-move-on gesture with his hand almost as if trying to pull the words out of him. He raised his pierced eyebrow and gave him what he wanted:
"She says that she has dealt with 'intimidating' men before, and is glad she could help. ...She called you--" Kiyoshi-san.
"I know what she called me. She doesn't speak Aerugese. Let her call me anything she likes. ...Except something like--"
"I understand."
"DON'T %@#%#$^ INTERRUPT ME."
"I'm sorry, Waka!" Bunji bowed low and stayed there with a smirk hidden behind his black bangs because he knew it was all just a joke of anger.
"Continue..."
"Right, well, she accepts."
"...And?"
"Eh... She says that it's not everyday that she eats Aerugese food and expressly mentioned sake." Bunji barely finished saying 'mentioned' at the end of the Aerugese sentence before Makoto turned his eyes fervently to Satoshi.
"Bring the highest grade sake we have. ...And the sushi menus. Tell the cooks to be prepared." Satoshi scuttled away as quickly as he could without jogging. FUCK! It was so damn hard not being able to speak the same language. Makoto turned his gaze to Alisa who was probably either terribly confused as shit, didn't give a shit, or pissed as shit. All of which involved shit in some way...and shit was a problem. He gave his frustrated frowny face. This took too much FUCKING time. He didn't even FUCKING know how to say 'I'm sorry' in Xingese. It pissed him off. He was pissed off. FUCK. Wait...why was such a small matter pissing him off? Why did he even give a shit? Wait no, why...was he offering her anything to begin with, save for that heavy-ass envelope he had to carry around the entire fucking day? He'd seen hotter women...been with hotter women, but... Makoto whipped his head to the side. "Hanya? Could this be...what they called...Heh, heh, impossible. He turned back around a dark look flashing over his eyes. She was standing there with a...with an...!!
An unlit cigarette.
He shot Bunji a horrified look and dug into his own pockets. NO LIGHTER. His look increased intensity and he moved closer to his subordinate who wasn't getting the silent eye signals. LLLI...GHTTT...ERRR!! Nope, still wasn't working. FUCK. He had to say it--say it!! But wait, she didn't speak Aerugese so it worked. Okay. "Bunji your lighter." He held out his hand, still staring at the unlit cigarette in Alisa's own hand. When the cold weight hit his palm, he grasped it, and took three steps until he was within reaching distance. Fuck, now what? No, he didn't need a translator for this shit. Waggling his eyebrows at the cig, he flipped the lid of the lighter open. When she made a move to place it back in her mouth, he lit it for her and tossed the thing back to Bunji who just barely caught it. He looked kind of horrified. The fuck why? Oh that's right... because he never lit his own.
Makoto stood there, waiting for his perfectly straight, expensive MILD SEVEN cig to be lit. When it was, almost effortlessly, he blew his smoke away from the other two with a sagely smirk. "Tell her we're going into the VIP dining room. Also, I want to know what languages she speaks."
"Why it's not like you know any oth--"
"Just. Ask. Her."
Bunji sighed and turned out of one of Mako's exhales of smoke to face Alisa directly. "I apologize for the time it takes to translate. Makoto wants you to call him Kiyoshino-san or--"
"Are you pestering her about what she called me?"
Damn, normally he couldn't even pick his own name out of a conversation in a different language... "Fine. What would you like to be called, Waka?"
That attitude was actually starting to piss him off. "Makoto is fine."
"--Makoto. ...I presume you like sushi? Also, he has requested our best sake. We'll eat in the VIP dining hall just down here..." Bunji started walking, heading off towards the room. Makoto sneered at his back and waited for Alisa before following. Something about those guns... FUCKING LANGUAGE BARRIER.
"Wak--Makoto would like to know what languages you speak. He's more than a little irritated by his...lack of ability."
They entered the room that was more dimly lit with somewhat gothic attire, equip with two chandeliers and a Persian rug underneath. The girls could be heard laughing though the thin wall, loud karaoke music draining in, but neither of the men seemed to notice; they were used to...loud situations, and well, yelling over them. Although loud was a bit overboard, seeing as the music was pretty much just a background sound.
"She says that she has dealt with 'intimidating' men before, and is glad she could help. ...She called you--" Kiyoshi-san.
"I know what she called me. She doesn't speak Aerugese. Let her call me anything she likes. ...Except something like--"
"I understand."
"DON'T %@#%#$^ INTERRUPT ME."
"I'm sorry, Waka!" Bunji bowed low and stayed there with a smirk hidden behind his black bangs because he knew it was all just a joke of anger.
"Continue..."
"Right, well, she accepts."
"...And?"
"Eh... She says that it's not everyday that she eats Aerugese food and expressly mentioned sake." Bunji barely finished saying 'mentioned' at the end of the Aerugese sentence before Makoto turned his eyes fervently to Satoshi.
"Bring the highest grade sake we have. ...And the sushi menus. Tell the cooks to be prepared." Satoshi scuttled away as quickly as he could without jogging. FUCK! It was so damn hard not being able to speak the same language. Makoto turned his gaze to Alisa who was probably either terribly confused as shit, didn't give a shit, or pissed as shit. All of which involved shit in some way...and shit was a problem. He gave his frustrated frowny face. This took too much FUCKING time. He didn't even FUCKING know how to say 'I'm sorry' in Xingese. It pissed him off. He was pissed off. FUCK. Wait...why was such a small matter pissing him off? Why did he even give a shit? Wait no, why...was he offering her anything to begin with, save for that heavy-ass envelope he had to carry around the entire fucking day? He'd seen hotter women...been with hotter women, but... Makoto whipped his head to the side. "Hanya? Could this be...what they called...Heh, heh, impossible. He turned back around a dark look flashing over his eyes. She was standing there with a...with an...!!
An unlit cigarette.
He shot Bunji a horrified look and dug into his own pockets. NO LIGHTER. His look increased intensity and he moved closer to his subordinate who wasn't getting the silent eye signals. LLLI...GHTTT...ERRR!! Nope, still wasn't working. FUCK. He had to say it--say it!! But wait, she didn't speak Aerugese so it worked. Okay. "Bunji your lighter." He held out his hand, still staring at the unlit cigarette in Alisa's own hand. When the cold weight hit his palm, he grasped it, and took three steps until he was within reaching distance. Fuck, now what? No, he didn't need a translator for this shit. Waggling his eyebrows at the cig, he flipped the lid of the lighter open. When she made a move to place it back in her mouth, he lit it for her and tossed the thing back to Bunji who just barely caught it. He looked kind of horrified. The fuck why? Oh that's right... because he never lit his own.
Makoto stood there, waiting for his perfectly straight, expensive MILD SEVEN cig to be lit. When it was, almost effortlessly, he blew his smoke away from the other two with a sagely smirk. "Tell her we're going into the VIP dining room. Also, I want to know what languages she speaks."
"Why it's not like you know any oth--"
"Just. Ask. Her."
Bunji sighed and turned out of one of Mako's exhales of smoke to face Alisa directly. "I apologize for the time it takes to translate. Makoto wants you to call him Kiyoshino-san or--"
"Are you pestering her about what she called me?"
Damn, normally he couldn't even pick his own name out of a conversation in a different language... "Fine. What would you like to be called, Waka?"
That attitude was actually starting to piss him off. "Makoto is fine."
"--Makoto. ...I presume you like sushi? Also, he has requested our best sake. We'll eat in the VIP dining hall just down here..." Bunji started walking, heading off towards the room. Makoto sneered at his back and waited for Alisa before following. Something about those guns... FUCKING LANGUAGE BARRIER.
"Wak--Makoto would like to know what languages you speak. He's more than a little irritated by his...lack of ability."
They entered the room that was more dimly lit with somewhat gothic attire, equip with two chandeliers and a Persian rug underneath. The girls could be heard laughing though the thin wall, loud karaoke music draining in, but neither of the men seemed to notice; they were used to...loud situations, and well, yelling over them. Although loud was a bit overboard, seeing as the music was pretty much just a background sound.
Guest- Guest
Re: Goddamn Yakuza....
by Alisa Donnikova Wed Jan 04, 2012 10:58 am
Lovely," What the fuck did that even mean? What the fuck was "lovely?" She sure as hell wasn't. Goddamn flowery language... What the fuck did it mean?! Man, if she had wanted to learn manners, she would have paid more attention to that bitch of a mother. Or else paid more attention in school. For fucks sake.... Oh, they were speaking again. His name. Or wait, was that his name? Ah fuck... Had she fucked something up again? If it wasn't a job not according to plan, she was messing up people relations. It didn't seem like he had taken offense until Waka or whatever the fuck his name was shouted at Bunji, a single eyebrow raising as the corner of her mouth twitched. Ok seriously, this was fucking retarded. She hated not being able to understand what the hell was going on. Bunji was bowing and shit, yet he seemed somehow amused, and now they were talking gibberish again. Bullshit. Thats what it was. Why hadn't she learned- Oh yeah... Her mom had never been big on Aerugese... Probably some kind of rivalry, she sure as hell didn't know.
Wha--? Kiyochino (or whatever it was) was gesturing and speaking to one of the other guys now and off he went like a light. Jesus fuck, what the fuck was going on?! Was he fetching a bitch or booze or guns or what! Her eyebrow twitched now as her gaze returned to the pretty boy in front of her, having to hold back a snrk as she saw his face. God, what kind of expression was that? Ok so a little bit of a chuckle escaped her anyways, rolling the unlit cigarette between her fingers as one of the other men gave her some kinda look. Oh and she caught onto it immediately, her brown eyes sliding over to him in an instant. "Got a fucking problem bozo? A girl can chuckle if she wants to." She purposefully spoke that in Drachman since she knew no one would understand her (and if they did oh-fucking-well). Seriously, these people needed to chill. Goddamn yakuza....Huh? "Hanya?" What the fuck was that? And why was he staring--
Oh. Her own eyes glanced downward to see he was looking at the cigarette between her fingers, though she had no idea as to why he looked so upset about it. He was yakuza, he had to smoke! So it wasn't the fact she smoked. Soooo.... why the hell was he digging in his pockets?! ARGH FUCKING LANGUAGES!!! Both eyebrows twitched as she watched the strange drama unfolding before her between Kimochi (whatever) and his subordinates. A grimace was beginning to slowly grow and grow into a frown, her foot tapping on the ground until she saw Makoto speaking to Bunji. What the fu--- Ohhh...... waaaaaait.. It couldn't... But he was a fucking underboss or some shit! Yeah, she didn't really quite know how things worked exactly in the yakuza, or all of the names for the ranks, but she vaguely understood how they all fit together! Sorta... Whatever. A lighter! OK. NOW SHE WAS ON THE SAME GODDAMN PAGE. Shit fuck... A grin popped up on her features as she placed the cig back between her lips, leaning forward for the light. Now THAT was fucking service! Huh, well, well. She must have done something right for Makoto (how could she remember his first name fine?) to be treating her like this. Not like she was going to complain hehe...
Breathing in, she blew the smoke away from everyone, her exhale almost seeming to be a sigh of relief. Ahh nicotine... How you would probably be the end of her... Pfft, whatever. Now she was watching the shocked subordinates looking to their boss who was blowing his smoke to the side so... Damn, why did that look sexy? Maybe it was a yakuza thing. Oh. Right. Back to not knowing what the fuck was going on. Hehe, Bunji got smoke to the face. Musta done something to deserve that. She had to say, she did like Makoto's style a bit. "I apologize for the time it takes to translate. Makoto wants you to call him Kiyoshino-san or--" Oh for fucks s- HA! Makoto seemed to have gotten the same idea! A snicker passed her lips as she made a better mental note of how to say his last name since she felt like it was one of those things she should know now. Another quick exchange of what-the-fuck and could we please move on to something she could fucking understand?! God this was starting to really piss her the fuck off.
"--Makoto. ...I presume you like sushi? Also, he has requested our best sake. We'll eat in the VIP dining hall just down here..." Thank you. A language she knew. But a first name eh? Wasn't that some kinda big shit for Aerugese? Only close friends or something did that? Whatever, another thing she didn't mind since she could actually SAY that name. "Damn right I like sushi. Best sake eh? Hehe, excellent!" She smirked and bowed her head in thanks to Makoto, not that she was sure he'd understand what that was for but Bunji was sure to explain it soon. "My thanks. VIP... fancy-fancy." She murmured, following after the translating man with another draw on her cig. Man, when was the last time she had eaten VIP huh? Probably had to be back on that job in Esparia a couple of years back. Or was it Xing? Ah hell, all her jobs kinda blended together at this point.
"Wak--Makoto would like to know what languages you speak. He's more than a little irritated by his...lack of ability."
Huh? Oh. "I bet he is," She was too. Buuut not gonna say that. Now that she was done looking around, her eyes came to rest on Bunji, "I also speak Drachman, Amestrian, and Cretan." She answered shorter than she really meant to, but that was because she had gotten distracted by the karaoke music and voices from the other room. Were all VIP rooms equipped with paper for walls? Oh yeah, Aerugo. That was a "thing" of theirs... Tits. "So he only speaks Aerugese then? No offense, but I would have half expected the yakuza to know more than that." Fuck if that wasn't the right thing to say, she didn't talk fucking nice dammit! Turning her head, she looked right at Makoto for that, flopping down in a chair without regard. Oh she didn't doubt that they had a whole seating chart neatly laid out or something, but she didn't know it and she didn't care to know it. What-the fuck-ever. "So what other kinds of booze do ya got?" She had to ask with a wide grin that had a rather devlish appearance to it, exhaling after another puff on her cig.
Wha--? Kiyochino (or whatever it was) was gesturing and speaking to one of the other guys now and off he went like a light. Jesus fuck, what the fuck was going on?! Was he fetching a bitch or booze or guns or what! Her eyebrow twitched now as her gaze returned to the pretty boy in front of her, having to hold back a snrk as she saw his face. God, what kind of expression was that? Ok so a little bit of a chuckle escaped her anyways, rolling the unlit cigarette between her fingers as one of the other men gave her some kinda look. Oh and she caught onto it immediately, her brown eyes sliding over to him in an instant. "Got a fucking problem bozo? A girl can chuckle if she wants to." She purposefully spoke that in Drachman since she knew no one would understand her (and if they did oh-fucking-well). Seriously, these people needed to chill. Goddamn yakuza....Huh? "Hanya?" What the fuck was that? And why was he staring--
Oh. Her own eyes glanced downward to see he was looking at the cigarette between her fingers, though she had no idea as to why he looked so upset about it. He was yakuza, he had to smoke! So it wasn't the fact she smoked. Soooo.... why the hell was he digging in his pockets?! ARGH FUCKING LANGUAGES!!! Both eyebrows twitched as she watched the strange drama unfolding before her between Kimochi (whatever) and his subordinates. A grimace was beginning to slowly grow and grow into a frown, her foot tapping on the ground until she saw Makoto speaking to Bunji. What the fu--- Ohhh...... waaaaaait.. It couldn't... But he was a fucking underboss or some shit! Yeah, she didn't really quite know how things worked exactly in the yakuza, or all of the names for the ranks, but she vaguely understood how they all fit together! Sorta... Whatever. A lighter! OK. NOW SHE WAS ON THE SAME GODDAMN PAGE. Shit fuck... A grin popped up on her features as she placed the cig back between her lips, leaning forward for the light. Now THAT was fucking service! Huh, well, well. She must have done something right for Makoto (how could she remember his first name fine?) to be treating her like this. Not like she was going to complain hehe...
Breathing in, she blew the smoke away from everyone, her exhale almost seeming to be a sigh of relief. Ahh nicotine... How you would probably be the end of her... Pfft, whatever. Now she was watching the shocked subordinates looking to their boss who was blowing his smoke to the side so... Damn, why did that look sexy? Maybe it was a yakuza thing. Oh. Right. Back to not knowing what the fuck was going on. Hehe, Bunji got smoke to the face. Musta done something to deserve that. She had to say, she did like Makoto's style a bit. "I apologize for the time it takes to translate. Makoto wants you to call him Kiyoshino-san or--" Oh for fucks s- HA! Makoto seemed to have gotten the same idea! A snicker passed her lips as she made a better mental note of how to say his last name since she felt like it was one of those things she should know now. Another quick exchange of what-the-fuck and could we please move on to something she could fucking understand?! God this was starting to really piss her the fuck off.
"--Makoto. ...I presume you like sushi? Also, he has requested our best sake. We'll eat in the VIP dining hall just down here..." Thank you. A language she knew. But a first name eh? Wasn't that some kinda big shit for Aerugese? Only close friends or something did that? Whatever, another thing she didn't mind since she could actually SAY that name. "Damn right I like sushi. Best sake eh? Hehe, excellent!" She smirked and bowed her head in thanks to Makoto, not that she was sure he'd understand what that was for but Bunji was sure to explain it soon. "My thanks. VIP... fancy-fancy." She murmured, following after the translating man with another draw on her cig. Man, when was the last time she had eaten VIP huh? Probably had to be back on that job in Esparia a couple of years back. Or was it Xing? Ah hell, all her jobs kinda blended together at this point.
"Wak--Makoto would like to know what languages you speak. He's more than a little irritated by his...lack of ability."
Huh? Oh. "I bet he is," She was too. Buuut not gonna say that. Now that she was done looking around, her eyes came to rest on Bunji, "I also speak Drachman, Amestrian, and Cretan." She answered shorter than she really meant to, but that was because she had gotten distracted by the karaoke music and voices from the other room. Were all VIP rooms equipped with paper for walls? Oh yeah, Aerugo. That was a "thing" of theirs... Tits. "So he only speaks Aerugese then? No offense, but I would have half expected the yakuza to know more than that." Fuck if that wasn't the right thing to say, she didn't talk fucking nice dammit! Turning her head, she looked right at Makoto for that, flopping down in a chair without regard. Oh she didn't doubt that they had a whole seating chart neatly laid out or something, but she didn't know it and she didn't care to know it. What-the fuck-ever. "So what other kinds of booze do ya got?" She had to ask with a wide grin that had a rather devlish appearance to it, exhaling after another puff on her cig.
Alisa Donnikova- Posts : 100
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Re: Goddamn Yakuza....
by Guest Fri Jan 06, 2012 3:14 am
Yeeeeah...he didn't understand a word coming out of her mouth despite paying full attention even to her lips moving. He sighed out a fresh breath of nicotine and dragged in another, holding the smoke there in thought. How much time would it take for him to learn a whole language? Twenty years, twenty-five years--nah, more like seventy-eight years. Yeah, that sounded like a good number. How old would he be then... seventy-eight plus twenty-six was... one-hundred-something. ...Hanya? That didn't make sense. He'd be that old? So was learning a new language impossible? How did people become bilingual then or was he just plain stupid? Yeah, he didn't fucking get past middle school so that typically made people be considered stupid. He tilted his head to the side in anger, really wanting to start a fight with someone to let out the pent-up steam, but why did he even want to learn a new language in the first place? He had men for that. Something about not being able to directly communicate with this girl was driving him mad. "dsfh ds ksdfhask dskfja dfa? fakj dshfaskj sajfh sakdhfakjio eiour khw ieurwq ei." Ah, made perfect sense. No. He wanted to be able to say that, but wasn't able to. That want came from somewhere--somewhere deep inside him that was more than unfathomable. But that language sounded different than the Xingese they had been speaking. Normally, foreign languages all sounded the same, but since he had been paying full attention, he noted the change as well as the slightly angry connotations exuded from it. Hmph. Was a problem about to rise from this beautiful rapture of a language that sounded more like an incomprehensible song than an angry retort? Hm... Okay done thinking.
Ninety seconds later, Makoto spun around to see that Bunji had led them into the lavish room. She flopped lazily into a chair, which the yakuza-accustomed Waka had never really witnessed in a woman. His mouth nearly flapped open, a half smile hanging feebly in the corners of his lips. If it wasn't clear by his expression, he very much enjoyed his discovery of another breed of women. He sat across from her opening his legs under the table and leaning on both elbows on it. He watching Bunji's attention shift from his place still standing at the head. The pierced eyebrow of a man suddenly frowned, looking slightly irked or bothered by maybe what Alisa was saying. This fact alone made Mako nervous, seeing as her other-language dialogue had sounded pissed. Why did it really matter? He was offering hospitality and she had only to enjoy it. He glared at the fork, eyebrows lowering to slit chestnut-colored eyes. "Are you going to translate or are we fucking playing charades?" Bunji's gaze met Makoto's and he sighed.
"She likes sushi and is excited for the sake, but she wants to know what else we have drink-wise. What should I tell her?"
"Oh, is that all? Don't fucking scare me like that. ...Offer her anything from the bar."
"Not quite. She said she knows Drachman, Amestrian, and Cretan other than Xingese...and that she's surprised as a Yakuza that you can't speak more..."
Makoto slammed his fist down on the table, disrupting the silverware already set. He feasted his eyes on the lace table cloth and then took a deep breath. "Fucking stereotypes. Ask her what that language she spoke before was."
"What lang--"
"Don't fucking ask questions."
"Okay... He wants to know what that language you spoke before was." Bunji turned to eye up Makoto that looked like a murderous German Shepard on it's haunches waiting for a treat. "Why," he queried quietly, looking more than a little puzzled by Mako's strange questions. And this is why...translating was a bitch.
"I want to learn it."
"He wants to learn it..."
"Yeah, so why did you look like you were going to ram the butter knife into her throat? Seriously, touch her, and they won't find your body."
"Got it, Waka." Bow. "The fact that she already guessed you were irritated by your inability to speak a foreign language."
"Ah," Mako said, nodding sagely whilst remaining as calm and collected as he ever would. "Let's fucking break out the booze. Tell her she can stay here tonight. Her own room or whatever." Implications were fun, having them translated was fucking ridiculous.
"He just said: Let's fucking break out the booze. And he wants you to know you are offered a free room here." The second the words exited Bunji's mouth, Makoto already knew that he left the implication out. Fucking koi-for-brains translator.
A man came in--completely new guy. He had the package under one arm and the menus in another. His eyes were blue and he was clearly a foreigner that had joined the Yamaguchi-gumi very early in his life due to first, missing a finger and second, the fact that he was just covered in scars. Makoto nodded to him with a half-smirk. The menus were placed in front of him and Alisa and then the man once again left, not letting go of the cradled package for one moment, all the while knowing too specifically what was inside...
Ninety seconds later, Makoto spun around to see that Bunji had led them into the lavish room. She flopped lazily into a chair, which the yakuza-accustomed Waka had never really witnessed in a woman. His mouth nearly flapped open, a half smile hanging feebly in the corners of his lips. If it wasn't clear by his expression, he very much enjoyed his discovery of another breed of women. He sat across from her opening his legs under the table and leaning on both elbows on it. He watching Bunji's attention shift from his place still standing at the head. The pierced eyebrow of a man suddenly frowned, looking slightly irked or bothered by maybe what Alisa was saying. This fact alone made Mako nervous, seeing as her other-language dialogue had sounded pissed. Why did it really matter? He was offering hospitality and she had only to enjoy it. He glared at the fork, eyebrows lowering to slit chestnut-colored eyes. "Are you going to translate or are we fucking playing charades?" Bunji's gaze met Makoto's and he sighed.
"She likes sushi and is excited for the sake, but she wants to know what else we have drink-wise. What should I tell her?"
"Oh, is that all? Don't fucking scare me like that. ...Offer her anything from the bar."
"Not quite. She said she knows Drachman, Amestrian, and Cretan other than Xingese...and that she's surprised as a Yakuza that you can't speak more..."
Makoto slammed his fist down on the table, disrupting the silverware already set. He feasted his eyes on the lace table cloth and then took a deep breath. "Fucking stereotypes. Ask her what that language she spoke before was."
"What lang--"
"Don't fucking ask questions."
"Okay... He wants to know what that language you spoke before was." Bunji turned to eye up Makoto that looked like a murderous German Shepard on it's haunches waiting for a treat. "Why," he queried quietly, looking more than a little puzzled by Mako's strange questions. And this is why...translating was a bitch.
"I want to learn it."
"He wants to learn it..."
"Yeah, so why did you look like you were going to ram the butter knife into her throat? Seriously, touch her, and they won't find your body."
"Got it, Waka." Bow. "The fact that she already guessed you were irritated by your inability to speak a foreign language."
"Ah," Mako said, nodding sagely whilst remaining as calm and collected as he ever would. "Let's fucking break out the booze. Tell her she can stay here tonight. Her own room or whatever." Implications were fun, having them translated was fucking ridiculous.
"He just said: Let's fucking break out the booze. And he wants you to know you are offered a free room here." The second the words exited Bunji's mouth, Makoto already knew that he left the implication out. Fucking koi-for-brains translator.
A man came in--completely new guy. He had the package under one arm and the menus in another. His eyes were blue and he was clearly a foreigner that had joined the Yamaguchi-gumi very early in his life due to first, missing a finger and second, the fact that he was just covered in scars. Makoto nodded to him with a half-smirk. The menus were placed in front of him and Alisa and then the man once again left, not letting go of the cradled package for one moment, all the while knowing too specifically what was inside...
Guest- Guest
Re: Goddamn Yakuza....
by Alisa Donnikova Sun Jan 08, 2012 4:31 pm
What? Why the fuck did he look surprised or something? Her smirk grew as she observed his expression, and then those of his subordinates. Ohhhh yeah, they hadn't seen a bitch like her before. Aerugese women were far more polite and demure, kinda like how her mother had been (the Xingese bitch). Yeah, fuck that shit. She was going to sit how she wanted, in the way she wanted and no one was going to tell her otherwise. She'd give them a new asshole to shit from if that were the case. She hated being told how her manners were wrong or how to fix them. About as much as she hated being told to calm down. What had happened to the last fuck who had done that? Oh yeah, she shot him. End of story.
Ah, so Makoto would sit across from her eh? She wouldn't mind that. Not in the least bit. Then she could *ahem* "enjoy the view." Hehe... His eyes were far more captivating than Spades were if nothing else, simply because of the color that they held. Or maybe she was just being bitter... Ah fuck. She wasn't going to think of that playboy right now. No, she was here to enjoy herself and she was going to fucking do that. Another puff of her cigarette, another observation of gibberish. Oh what Bunji? Something she say not correct? Why the fuck was he frowning at her?! She could sense the shift in the winds as Makoto spoke up, rather amused at the expression that he wore. Well-fucking-well, it seemed someone had about as quick a temper as she did! That was either a really good thing, or a really bad thing. She suddenly pictured the two of them fighting side by side with guns blazing and grins on their lips. The air was polluted with cigarette smoke, death, and gunpowder with only a hint of booze on the side. Oooh yeah, THAT was a nice image! Some kinda movie worthy shit or something...
It was a good thing she had gotten lost in that particular thought otherwise her annoyance would have grown at the lack of Xingese-- SLAM! Within miliseconds of the sudden sound, her hands had reached for her Cutlasses, already gripping them as her eyes rested warily upon Makoto. His subordinates were watching her with their hands on their guns, glancing between this threat and their boss. Ok, would someone care to tell her what the hell that had been for? Time seemed to slow for that moment of silence, the tension growing to a taught thread. Alisa's eyes narrowed as she moved from target to target, just waiting for someone to TRY to take her down. HAH. How much practice had they gotten lately? "Just fucking try it..." She muttered under her breath, falling silent as Makoto finally spoke to Bunji. With that, the air breathed once more and she relaxed, taking a nice long draw on her cig. His men didn't relax though. Fucking assholes. So what was Bunji going to say to her now huh?
"He wants to know what that language you spoke before was."
Was... She stared at him dumbly for a moment, looking from the translator to the big man and back again. Was... Was that seriously what that had been about?! Are you fucking... "It was Drachman." She answered, her own eyes narrowing a little as she could see the anger that was in Makoto's eyes. Oh what, had her earlier comment been what caused such a scene? Yep, he was her type of guy. Short-tempered and liable to go off the handle at a moments notice. She didn't realize that it had brought a smirk to her lips. "He wants to learn it..." Oh? "That so? Good luck, it's a fucking pain in the ass." She commented honestly, taking one last puff of the death stick before putting it out in the ash tray on the table. But it seemed like her comment might have gotten lost as there was a quiet exchange between Makoto and Bunji, her eyebrow twitching at the lack of understanding. God... fucking... DAMMIT! She wanted to flip the fucking table at just how FRUSTRATING AS SHIT THIS WAS. Her jaw tightened as a finger began to tap her bare knee, leaning one arm on the arm rest with her temple against her fist. Ass fuck.
FINALLY Bunji turned to her, her brown eyes focusing upon the man almost boredly since this whole translating thing was growing thin. "He just said: Let's fucking break out the booze. And he wants you to know you are offered a free room here." Her own room? Alisa sat up a bit straighter at that, both of her eyebrows raising since that hardly seemed like something that normally happened for some simple courier girl like her. At least for this job. But the giant grin on her face was followed by a laugh, clapping her hands together and rubbing them against one another with quick motions. "EXCELLENT. Lets get fucking shit-faced! Oh, and thank him for the room. I'm probably going to-" She stopped as someone new came in, tensing up like a cat ready to pounce upon a stranger that it didn't know. But as the menu's were placed before them, she relaxed and nodded slowly to him before he left. Just a waiter.
"As I was saying, I'm probably going to need it." She finished her statement as she stared directly at Makoto again. Oh-ho-ho... How was THIS evening going to end up eh?
Ah, so Makoto would sit across from her eh? She wouldn't mind that. Not in the least bit. Then she could *ahem* "enjoy the view." Hehe... His eyes were far more captivating than Spades were if nothing else, simply because of the color that they held. Or maybe she was just being bitter... Ah fuck. She wasn't going to think of that playboy right now. No, she was here to enjoy herself and she was going to fucking do that. Another puff of her cigarette, another observation of gibberish. Oh what Bunji? Something she say not correct? Why the fuck was he frowning at her?! She could sense the shift in the winds as Makoto spoke up, rather amused at the expression that he wore. Well-fucking-well, it seemed someone had about as quick a temper as she did! That was either a really good thing, or a really bad thing. She suddenly pictured the two of them fighting side by side with guns blazing and grins on their lips. The air was polluted with cigarette smoke, death, and gunpowder with only a hint of booze on the side. Oooh yeah, THAT was a nice image! Some kinda movie worthy shit or something...
It was a good thing she had gotten lost in that particular thought otherwise her annoyance would have grown at the lack of Xingese-- SLAM! Within miliseconds of the sudden sound, her hands had reached for her Cutlasses, already gripping them as her eyes rested warily upon Makoto. His subordinates were watching her with their hands on their guns, glancing between this threat and their boss. Ok, would someone care to tell her what the hell that had been for? Time seemed to slow for that moment of silence, the tension growing to a taught thread. Alisa's eyes narrowed as she moved from target to target, just waiting for someone to TRY to take her down. HAH. How much practice had they gotten lately? "Just fucking try it..." She muttered under her breath, falling silent as Makoto finally spoke to Bunji. With that, the air breathed once more and she relaxed, taking a nice long draw on her cig. His men didn't relax though. Fucking assholes. So what was Bunji going to say to her now huh?
"He wants to know what that language you spoke before was."
Was... She stared at him dumbly for a moment, looking from the translator to the big man and back again. Was... Was that seriously what that had been about?! Are you fucking... "It was Drachman." She answered, her own eyes narrowing a little as she could see the anger that was in Makoto's eyes. Oh what, had her earlier comment been what caused such a scene? Yep, he was her type of guy. Short-tempered and liable to go off the handle at a moments notice. She didn't realize that it had brought a smirk to her lips. "He wants to learn it..." Oh? "That so? Good luck, it's a fucking pain in the ass." She commented honestly, taking one last puff of the death stick before putting it out in the ash tray on the table. But it seemed like her comment might have gotten lost as there was a quiet exchange between Makoto and Bunji, her eyebrow twitching at the lack of understanding. God... fucking... DAMMIT! She wanted to flip the fucking table at just how FRUSTRATING AS SHIT THIS WAS. Her jaw tightened as a finger began to tap her bare knee, leaning one arm on the arm rest with her temple against her fist. Ass fuck.
FINALLY Bunji turned to her, her brown eyes focusing upon the man almost boredly since this whole translating thing was growing thin. "He just said: Let's fucking break out the booze. And he wants you to know you are offered a free room here." Her own room? Alisa sat up a bit straighter at that, both of her eyebrows raising since that hardly seemed like something that normally happened for some simple courier girl like her. At least for this job. But the giant grin on her face was followed by a laugh, clapping her hands together and rubbing them against one another with quick motions. "EXCELLENT. Lets get fucking shit-faced! Oh, and thank him for the room. I'm probably going to-" She stopped as someone new came in, tensing up like a cat ready to pounce upon a stranger that it didn't know. But as the menu's were placed before them, she relaxed and nodded slowly to him before he left. Just a waiter.
"As I was saying, I'm probably going to need it." She finished her statement as she stared directly at Makoto again. Oh-ho-ho... How was THIS evening going to end up eh?
Alisa Donnikova- Posts : 100
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Re: Goddamn Yakuza....
by Guest Thu Jan 12, 2012 6:10 am
"It was Drachman." Ah, so it was Drahacmn, what a beautiful-sounding language. He nodded at her as if he understood what she had said completely, turning to Bunji for a translation anyway. His chin came to rest on his hand as he peered over the table with starry eyes. Fucking tell me. Waiting for translations was hell. Alisa looked to be flitting between rage and interest herself, which brought out another one of Mako's retard smiles--or an attempt at one. She understood exactly how he was feeling--somehow he knew that. Maybe there was a different way of communicating things aside from opening your mouth? He wouldn't fucking know, but maybe? His sad excuse for a smile quickly faded and he stood up from the table, eyeing Bunji up and down slowly like a predator studying its prey before an attack. Half a second later, his hand grabbed the scruff of Bunji's striped dress shirt and yanked the guy closer. "I don't fucking care if you think I can't learn it, Bunji. You will tell me what it is NOW or you and your family won't be swimming in Edo Bay, but SINKING." Bunji raised his eyes quiveringly to meet his Waka's, almost seeming to enjoy this moment of being told off, for he nearly let out a laugh. What the fuck was this, some kind of joke?! Bunji nodded and witnessed as Makoto's grip was freed, successfully averting his own 'death.' Not that he would actually kill him, but if someone dared not be serious in times like these, their loyalty was questioned. It didn't matter how well Bunji knew Makoto or that his threats to his 'friends' were normally empty; he had to always say...
"Yes Waka!", ...and... Bunji bowed his head. "Drachman. According to her file, she is half." Mako deserved a treat every once in while or he would get bored. When his Waka got bored, people ended up dead. Bunji could easily see...that threat becoming full if he didn't end up getting what he wanted. The tattooed man gulped and leaned just slightly closer to where Makoto was finishing off his second cigarette. Wait, he didn't remember lighting a second one for him? What the hell? Bunji looked mildly confused for a second until he saw that he was actually wearing one of his alchemic gloves. Well, that freaking explained it... Bunji almost thought he was having lapses in his own memory for once. "She wishes you luck, mentioning that it is apparently a pain in the ass." He shrugged and shook his head, implying that he had no other information than that. "Then," Bunji continued, not giving his Waka a chance to respond, "she said: 'let's get shit-faced' and to thank you for the room. She's probably going to need it." Phew that was done.
Makoto played with the ashes in his ashtray absentmindedly. She wished him luck? If only luck could do it... He was as stupid as a door nail--whatever the fuck that even was. What was that anyway? What a bullshit phrase. His chin slid down, allowing for his cheek to be cradled instead, stretching his face out and making it look funny. Not like he noticed or gave a rat's ass. If he even had a rat's ass, he was sure that he would have disposed of it immediately anyway. Right, what was he supposed to be thinking about? Yeah, learning Drachman. There was a country called that or something, right? It was cold there: the country of Drachian. No, that sounded wrong. It was definitely something else. He'd look it up online later. For now, he had to at least pretend he had half a brain, and he had a full one dammit! How did someone with half a brain even live? Wasn't that like...scientifically not possible or some shit? He gave a frustrated sigh and braced himself with both fists against the table cloth, turning quickly to Bunji. "Tell her, I will learn it. But first I want her to teach me how to say something."
"He says that he will definitely learn it, but he wants you to teach him how to say something." Man, being a translator was hard.
Bunji could fucking deal with it. Makoto didn't give a SHIT whether or not the koi-for-brains man his father had assigned to him when he was eight was going to quit tomorrow or not. ...Okay, that was lie, but fuck it all! He still felt like a child around this guy! IT WAS FRUSTRATING. He picked up the menu in front of him and blindly scanned it, already knowing what was on it and what he wanted. Just then, however, it wasn't Sarozha that returned, but Satoshi, the other that could speak Xingese. He eyed Alisa up and down, exuding a feral growl from Makoto on the other side of the table. Instantly, Satoshi's eyes fell into a stasis on her face along with a pleasant smile on his own. It was as if his eyes had suddenly become glued where they were. Goddamn Yakuz--wait. Mako shook his head and prevented himself from gutting Satoshi by tearing the plastic menu in many tiny, tiny little pieces and then lighting it on fi-- Okay, the fire would cause a disturbance. He wanted Alisa to enjoy herself and somehow creating a fire didn't seem like the best party favor.
"Here is the drink menu and I've brought the finest grade of sake to start. I do hope that it fits your...taste," Satoshi said to her, causing Mako to raise an eyebrow in inquiry from his task of collecting the little pieces of the menu. What was that last word he had said? He was going to fucking kill him. He shot a vicious look at Bunji.
"Taste. He just wanted to make sure she'd like the sake." Oh. Makoto settled down and handed the pieces of the menu to one of the two guys standing silently behind him. They were right to stay silent; they lived longer that w--well, kept their fingers at least. Cutting fingers off was grotesquely enjoyable...despite it being gross. He watched Satoshi pour the sake for him first and then for Alisa, leaving the bottle there. It was cold, igniting the taste, whereas hot sake was simply hot to be rid of the impure taste of lower grade sake. Mako was proud! He had learned that yesterday from his father. He reached for his cup and drained it, looking at Alisa expectantly. If she sat like that instead of like a prissy bitch--had guns instead of make up, perhaps...she could hold her liquor as well. This looked to be...enjoyable. ...Hanya? Enjoyable? When was the last time... He crossed his arms and stared at the ceiling. Hmph. The other night? When he beat up that one gang? That was too easy. Ah, ah! Yes! It was practice--when they had all gathered for practice today. It was a great practice, very sweaty, three hours. Makoto looked down and Sarozha walked in, no longer cradling the package. He asked about it using eye signals and received a strange response that resulted in what he guessed to mean that someone else now had it. Whatever, as long as that poor sucker's dick got to his father, he didn't care. Sarozha asked what they wanted in both Xingese and regular Aerugese, switching fluidly between them as if they were second and second point fifth nature. Makoto held off answering, waiting for the 'lady' to go first (ladies were always first, his father told him). But Alisa didn't seem the lady type... She was more than a lady. Was that even possible for women? To be more than a lady, maybe she should have ordered before Sarozha even asked? No, no, that wouldn't be possible.
"I'll have steak, rare." He paused to wait for Alisa to order before asking Bunji quietly to translate once more. "Ask her if she knows how to play that game you guys taught me. What was it called?" Something with fruits...
"Apples to Apples?"
"Yeah, that."
Sigh. "Wa--Makoto wants to know if you know how to play a game called Apples to Apples."
"Yes Waka!", ...and... Bunji bowed his head. "Drachman. According to her file, she is half." Mako deserved a treat every once in while or he would get bored. When his Waka got bored, people ended up dead. Bunji could easily see...that threat becoming full if he didn't end up getting what he wanted. The tattooed man gulped and leaned just slightly closer to where Makoto was finishing off his second cigarette. Wait, he didn't remember lighting a second one for him? What the hell? Bunji looked mildly confused for a second until he saw that he was actually wearing one of his alchemic gloves. Well, that freaking explained it... Bunji almost thought he was having lapses in his own memory for once. "She wishes you luck, mentioning that it is apparently a pain in the ass." He shrugged and shook his head, implying that he had no other information than that. "Then," Bunji continued, not giving his Waka a chance to respond, "she said: 'let's get shit-faced' and to thank you for the room. She's probably going to need it." Phew that was done.
Makoto played with the ashes in his ashtray absentmindedly. She wished him luck? If only luck could do it... He was as stupid as a door nail--whatever the fuck that even was. What was that anyway? What a bullshit phrase. His chin slid down, allowing for his cheek to be cradled instead, stretching his face out and making it look funny. Not like he noticed or gave a rat's ass. If he even had a rat's ass, he was sure that he would have disposed of it immediately anyway. Right, what was he supposed to be thinking about? Yeah, learning Drachman. There was a country called that or something, right? It was cold there: the country of Drachian. No, that sounded wrong. It was definitely something else. He'd look it up online later. For now, he had to at least pretend he had half a brain, and he had a full one dammit! How did someone with half a brain even live? Wasn't that like...scientifically not possible or some shit? He gave a frustrated sigh and braced himself with both fists against the table cloth, turning quickly to Bunji. "Tell her, I will learn it. But first I want her to teach me how to say something."
"He says that he will definitely learn it, but he wants you to teach him how to say something." Man, being a translator was hard.
Bunji could fucking deal with it. Makoto didn't give a SHIT whether or not the koi-for-brains man his father had assigned to him when he was eight was going to quit tomorrow or not. ...Okay, that was lie, but fuck it all! He still felt like a child around this guy! IT WAS FRUSTRATING. He picked up the menu in front of him and blindly scanned it, already knowing what was on it and what he wanted. Just then, however, it wasn't Sarozha that returned, but Satoshi, the other that could speak Xingese. He eyed Alisa up and down, exuding a feral growl from Makoto on the other side of the table. Instantly, Satoshi's eyes fell into a stasis on her face along with a pleasant smile on his own. It was as if his eyes had suddenly become glued where they were. Goddamn Yakuz--wait. Mako shook his head and prevented himself from gutting Satoshi by tearing the plastic menu in many tiny, tiny little pieces and then lighting it on fi-- Okay, the fire would cause a disturbance. He wanted Alisa to enjoy herself and somehow creating a fire didn't seem like the best party favor.
"Here is the drink menu and I've brought the finest grade of sake to start. I do hope that it fits your...taste," Satoshi said to her, causing Mako to raise an eyebrow in inquiry from his task of collecting the little pieces of the menu. What was that last word he had said? He was going to fucking kill him. He shot a vicious look at Bunji.
"Taste. He just wanted to make sure she'd like the sake." Oh. Makoto settled down and handed the pieces of the menu to one of the two guys standing silently behind him. They were right to stay silent; they lived longer that w--well, kept their fingers at least. Cutting fingers off was grotesquely enjoyable...despite it being gross. He watched Satoshi pour the sake for him first and then for Alisa, leaving the bottle there. It was cold, igniting the taste, whereas hot sake was simply hot to be rid of the impure taste of lower grade sake. Mako was proud! He had learned that yesterday from his father. He reached for his cup and drained it, looking at Alisa expectantly. If she sat like that instead of like a prissy bitch--had guns instead of make up, perhaps...she could hold her liquor as well. This looked to be...enjoyable. ...Hanya? Enjoyable? When was the last time... He crossed his arms and stared at the ceiling. Hmph. The other night? When he beat up that one gang? That was too easy. Ah, ah! Yes! It was practice--when they had all gathered for practice today. It was a great practice, very sweaty, three hours. Makoto looked down and Sarozha walked in, no longer cradling the package. He asked about it using eye signals and received a strange response that resulted in what he guessed to mean that someone else now had it. Whatever, as long as that poor sucker's dick got to his father, he didn't care. Sarozha asked what they wanted in both Xingese and regular Aerugese, switching fluidly between them as if they were second and second point fifth nature. Makoto held off answering, waiting for the 'lady' to go first (ladies were always first, his father told him). But Alisa didn't seem the lady type... She was more than a lady. Was that even possible for women? To be more than a lady, maybe she should have ordered before Sarozha even asked? No, no, that wouldn't be possible.
"I'll have steak, rare." He paused to wait for Alisa to order before asking Bunji quietly to translate once more. "Ask her if she knows how to play that game you guys taught me. What was it called?" Something with fruits...
"Apples to Apples?"
"Yeah, that."
Sigh. "Wa--Makoto wants to know if you know how to play a game called Apples to Apples."
[EXIT THREAD]
Last edited by Makoto Kiyoshino on Fri Feb 24, 2012 10:11 pm; edited 1 time in total
Guest- Guest
Re: Goddamn Yakuza....
by Alisa Donnikova Fri Jan 13, 2012 2:09 am
. . . . . . *cricket cricket* Oooookaaay Bunji, were you going to translate this fucking CENTURY?! It was rather amusing to outside forces to see the two hot shots getting annoyed at the silence that had begun to fill the room, despite Alisa's new enthusiasm to the prospect of booze and a nice bed to sleep in tonight. Not some cheap hotel shit, but real fucking legit VIP shit! THAT was worth taking this small job besides the fresh cash it brought in for even more booze. At least she noticed a rather amusing smile that was upon her hosts lips as he looked at her, unable to stop the smirk that grew on her lips as a chuckle tumbled forth unbidden. Ah fuck propriety! She already caused him to flip shit (or so she thought) once, who cared if she did it again? He could fucking deal with it! Though... that was hardly the smartest attitude to have when dealing with any kind of mob. Drachman, Yakuza, Creig, Cretan.... You just didn't fuck with the mob. Because when they wanted to peck back? Man, they pecked back HARD. Like, cut-off-your-limbs-and-roll-you-into-a-bog hard.
Buuut it seemed like Makoto's patience had reached an end, and her own was rapidly drawing to a close. Were they ever going to fucking get on with the fucking evening?! Jesus christ! Aaaand cue gibberish. But it was certainly angry gibberish, maybe even threatening if she was any judge of Makoto's tone. Huh. Or the fact he had grabbed his subordinate so roughly. Leaning back in her chair, she decided it was best to relax and just observe for now. Though...some popcorn would be nice if she was going to watch some fucking drama you know? Just completed the atmosphere somehow. This certainly would be a boring drama though since nothing was happening. At least nothing she understood anyways. Some kind of nod-eye stuff, silent signals, and... of course... gibberish. Always. the fucking. GIBBERISH. GOD-FUCK-SHIT-STACK-CUNT-FUCKER-ASS-lasdjflasdjflasufdioasuefliawjefalksdufoiyaewrglajsd!!! What the hell were they saying?!?!?!?!!?!?! All she could tell was that they were talking, Makoto seemed more relaxed, he was having a second cigarette--.... that he lit with alchemy. It made her raise an eyebrow and straighten up even further in her chair to the point where she was pretty much sitting some kind of properly, her hands closing enough to feel the alchemical lines embedded into her biker gloves. So he was an alchemist as well then? Just what else could he do? ... He couldn't erase her fucking memory could he? Because she'd have to lay down some ground rules if that were the case. Fuck that shit, she wasn't getting mind fucked again! ARGH! She WASN'T going to think about Spade dammit! FUCK TITS.
Another funny face from her new found friend. Well, she was going to call him that consider the royal treatment he was giving her. Ladi-fucking-da. Heh... He really did have the funniest expressions. Oh, it seemed like it was time for her to answer- "He says that he will definitely learn it, but he wants you to teach him how to say something." -something..... Uh... what? Now that was an odd request. Her eyebrow raised again as she frowned slightly, leaning on the table as a finger tapped a couple of times against its surface. "O-kay.... What does he want to know how to say? Its not exactly a narrow question." She muttered, debating whether or not she really wanted to wait for him to answer that question. You know what? Fuck it. "Oh fuck it. Ok, here is how you say, "I don't understand" ok?" She'd have to make sure he got the pronunciation down. "Ya nee poneemaiyoo. I don't understand." She said it once slowly, and then again fast. "I figure that'll be among the most useful phrases until you get the basics down. And I don't mean no disrespect. Just a fucking fact." She had to lay that down otherwise someone might get their panties in a twist. From how it seemed between everyone, it was Bunji who was most likely to be that fucking sod. He was so much more touchy than his boss. God.
Eyes. On her. The one who entered most recently, Sabushai... satoishu... ah fuck it. Was she even going to see that particular underling ever again anyways? Her eyes had to narrow at how he was looking at her, leaning back in her chair as she gripped the arms to the point you could hear the leather of her gloves groan against the surface. But her eyebrow merely twitched and she forced herself to calm down a bit, even managing a small (albeit almost insincere) smile as he offered her the drink menu. Thats right you fucking 'tard. EYES. Not BOOBS. Nor her fucking legs either.... Christ... But he was giving her liquor, and she did like that a lot she had to admit. "Here is the drink menu and I've brought the finest grade of sake to start. I do hope that it fits your...taste," Ooooo he was really grating on her now. What was it, huh? What was she to him? Some fucking whore? First he looks her up and down, then just the way he was talking... Ah hell, don't say that she was getting all sensitive or some shit.... "Thank you. I'm sure I'll find something. Not like there's many boozes I DON'T like, heh." Just no vodka. That was the bottom line. Never again. Not after the war.
Hehehehe.... It seemed that Makoto didn't appreciate his subordinates behavior either seeing as how he had ripped up his own menu quite... efficiently. Hahahahahaha.... That just amused her to no end! Bunji translated what had been said into that gibberish again, her eyes flicking between the men before settling upon the menu before her. Well, well my liquor friends, what do we have here hm? Ah, but she didn't quite have to decide just yet seeing as there was a bottle being poured for them right then and there! Excellent. Moooost excellent. Downing the glass easily, she shivered in delight at the chill that flowed through her body as the liquid rushed downward into her stomach, the fire of it heating her right back up seconds later. Ohhhh sake... How she loved it... Za? Oh-ho? So Makoto wasn't sure of her drinking ability? Boy was he going to learn... HAH! "Keep that sake flowing boys. It's going to take a lot fucking more to get me shit-faced." She murmured softly, chuckling as she grinned almost wickedly at her host. Yeeees.... let him see.
The foreign man from before returned, actually speaking both languages like Bunji did, but with less hesitancy. Good. Sure the man was a waiter, but still. She liked it when men didn't question what she had said or seem to think it best not to repeat how she had phrased something. Fuck them and their sense of... whatever it was that stopped them. "Ok, get ready. I ain't taking it easy on you. I'll take gyu-don, some shumai, gyoza, the dinner size of your shrimp tempura with vegetables..." Pausing, she had to glance towards the sushi menu before continuing, "And an order of eel rolls. Got all that?" The man nodded, impassive at the sheer size of her order before vanishing off to the land of the great beyond! Also known as the kitchen. Heh. Hey, she had to get her kicks in somehow while waiting for fucking. translations. What did Makoto want to know now?
"Wa--Makoto wants to know if you know how to play a game called Apples to Apples." HAH! Oh.. oh hahahaha... ohhooohahahahahahah.... Alisa began to laugh as she slapped her thigh with a nice crack, rocking backwards in her chair as her head tilted backwards. Oh that was rich... "Of course I fucking do! Especially the "adult" version. Oh is THAT some good times, let me tell you. Some of the guys and I used to play it on jobs in the past. Bunch of fucking nuts I tell you."
Buuut it seemed like Makoto's patience had reached an end, and her own was rapidly drawing to a close. Were they ever going to fucking get on with the fucking evening?! Jesus christ! Aaaand cue gibberish. But it was certainly angry gibberish, maybe even threatening if she was any judge of Makoto's tone. Huh. Or the fact he had grabbed his subordinate so roughly. Leaning back in her chair, she decided it was best to relax and just observe for now. Though...some popcorn would be nice if she was going to watch some fucking drama you know? Just completed the atmosphere somehow. This certainly would be a boring drama though since nothing was happening. At least nothing she understood anyways. Some kind of nod-eye stuff, silent signals, and... of course... gibberish. Always. the fucking. GIBBERISH. GOD-FUCK-SHIT-STACK-CUNT-FUCKER-ASS-lasdjflasdjflasufdioasuefliawjefalksdufoiyaewrglajsd!!! What the hell were they saying?!?!?!?!!?!?! All she could tell was that they were talking, Makoto seemed more relaxed, he was having a second cigarette--.... that he lit with alchemy. It made her raise an eyebrow and straighten up even further in her chair to the point where she was pretty much sitting some kind of properly, her hands closing enough to feel the alchemical lines embedded into her biker gloves. So he was an alchemist as well then? Just what else could he do? ... He couldn't erase her fucking memory could he? Because she'd have to lay down some ground rules if that were the case. Fuck that shit, she wasn't getting mind fucked again! ARGH! She WASN'T going to think about Spade dammit! FUCK TITS.
Another funny face from her new found friend. Well, she was going to call him that consider the royal treatment he was giving her. Ladi-fucking-da. Heh... He really did have the funniest expressions. Oh, it seemed like it was time for her to answer- "He says that he will definitely learn it, but he wants you to teach him how to say something." -something..... Uh... what? Now that was an odd request. Her eyebrow raised again as she frowned slightly, leaning on the table as a finger tapped a couple of times against its surface. "O-kay.... What does he want to know how to say? Its not exactly a narrow question." She muttered, debating whether or not she really wanted to wait for him to answer that question. You know what? Fuck it. "Oh fuck it. Ok, here is how you say, "I don't understand" ok?" She'd have to make sure he got the pronunciation down. "Ya nee poneemaiyoo. I don't understand." She said it once slowly, and then again fast. "I figure that'll be among the most useful phrases until you get the basics down. And I don't mean no disrespect. Just a fucking fact." She had to lay that down otherwise someone might get their panties in a twist. From how it seemed between everyone, it was Bunji who was most likely to be that fucking sod. He was so much more touchy than his boss. God.
Eyes. On her. The one who entered most recently, Sabushai... satoishu... ah fuck it. Was she even going to see that particular underling ever again anyways? Her eyes had to narrow at how he was looking at her, leaning back in her chair as she gripped the arms to the point you could hear the leather of her gloves groan against the surface. But her eyebrow merely twitched and she forced herself to calm down a bit, even managing a small (albeit almost insincere) smile as he offered her the drink menu. Thats right you fucking 'tard. EYES. Not BOOBS. Nor her fucking legs either.... Christ... But he was giving her liquor, and she did like that a lot she had to admit. "Here is the drink menu and I've brought the finest grade of sake to start. I do hope that it fits your...taste," Ooooo he was really grating on her now. What was it, huh? What was she to him? Some fucking whore? First he looks her up and down, then just the way he was talking... Ah hell, don't say that she was getting all sensitive or some shit.... "Thank you. I'm sure I'll find something. Not like there's many boozes I DON'T like, heh." Just no vodka. That was the bottom line. Never again. Not after the war.
Hehehehe.... It seemed that Makoto didn't appreciate his subordinates behavior either seeing as how he had ripped up his own menu quite... efficiently. Hahahahahaha.... That just amused her to no end! Bunji translated what had been said into that gibberish again, her eyes flicking between the men before settling upon the menu before her. Well, well my liquor friends, what do we have here hm? Ah, but she didn't quite have to decide just yet seeing as there was a bottle being poured for them right then and there! Excellent. Moooost excellent. Downing the glass easily, she shivered in delight at the chill that flowed through her body as the liquid rushed downward into her stomach, the fire of it heating her right back up seconds later. Ohhhh sake... How she loved it... Za? Oh-ho? So Makoto wasn't sure of her drinking ability? Boy was he going to learn... HAH! "Keep that sake flowing boys. It's going to take a lot fucking more to get me shit-faced." She murmured softly, chuckling as she grinned almost wickedly at her host. Yeeees.... let him see.
The foreign man from before returned, actually speaking both languages like Bunji did, but with less hesitancy. Good. Sure the man was a waiter, but still. She liked it when men didn't question what she had said or seem to think it best not to repeat how she had phrased something. Fuck them and their sense of... whatever it was that stopped them. "Ok, get ready. I ain't taking it easy on you. I'll take gyu-don, some shumai, gyoza, the dinner size of your shrimp tempura with vegetables..." Pausing, she had to glance towards the sushi menu before continuing, "And an order of eel rolls. Got all that?" The man nodded, impassive at the sheer size of her order before vanishing off to the land of the great beyond! Also known as the kitchen. Heh. Hey, she had to get her kicks in somehow while waiting for fucking. translations. What did Makoto want to know now?
"Wa--Makoto wants to know if you know how to play a game called Apples to Apples." HAH! Oh.. oh hahahaha... ohhooohahahahahahah.... Alisa began to laugh as she slapped her thigh with a nice crack, rocking backwards in her chair as her head tilted backwards. Oh that was rich... "Of course I fucking do! Especially the "adult" version. Oh is THAT some good times, let me tell you. Some of the guys and I used to play it on jobs in the past. Bunch of fucking nuts I tell you."
Alisa Donnikova- Posts : 100
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Re: Goddamn Yakuza....
by Guest Fri Feb 24, 2012 10:11 pm
[Sorry for the wait. XD I was doing the more recent threads first and putting off my idea for this one because I was excited about it. I'm weird like that. Anyway, I wanted to say: let's end this one there since it seems fit, and make a new thread where Mako can speak some Drachman?? It's been some months so he should know something enough to communicate. This translator shit is driving us both crazy. <3 How are you on time? We can wait to make it until break or something? Let me know/text me. You seem super busy... XD Haven't even talked to you. It's depressing...]
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