? ? ? ? ? ? (Let Chaos Reign - Take Two)

[Guest]

Let's keep things nice and simple, again. Shall we? So, he's here to scope Amestris's border security, given his mission may bring him back into the lands of Father's country once more. Though, that and he was sight-seeing.

Besides the new South City, what with it's massive lake and all, West city was the only other place in Amestris he wanted to sneak into and go sight-seeing and then leave with little trouble. And that wasn't much a difficult feat considering he caused little trouble during his visits, ah-yup. Just come in, take a nice look around, enjoy himself and then leave without causing much trouble.

It was strange. Once he felt a burning fury inside of him that wanted to consume Amestris in raging flames that would reduce their cities and citizens into nothing more than ash and dust. Now, after meeting the RIOTE leader and having some questions answered (and five times as many questions replacing those), he had felt a . . . sense of fulfillment. Peace, you could say, had settled into him. Or at least, he was willing to put old grudges behind him and act on what he thought was right, and making his way back into this country was the next step he needed to take.

So, unlike the disastrous Creta and North City trips that ended in devastation, the Aerugo trip that ended in a short sentence to prison, and the East City visit that ended up destroying half the buildings in the slums, he was here on peaceful terms. To accentuate that fact, he only had his non-impossible-to-wield-by-a-normal-person weapons that were not meant for assault use. In short, his knives, his short blade, his sawed-off double-barreled shotgun and his fists.

As of right now, he was just at the old HQ. Dainty little place, echoed inside his memories, somehow or other . . . and he was curious. Despite it being a museum, there weren't that many visitors, so it was probably a boon for them to have foreign traffic in coming to take a look. Though, considering it was the early afternoon, he'd probably have to take his leave and go find a cafe or something and eat lunch. Or, well, he could just eat the displays instead, if he got too hungry . . . that and the docents too.

[Guest]

Zhi had finally reached West HQ. His messy hair matted in the heat of the sun as droplets of sweat roll down his skin like a foggy night against a cool window. He ran to the front of the building with his cello case strapped against his chest and noticed armed guards out front. The blood in his body began to drain. Even though he was also a man of the law now, he never really liked talking to them or even going close to them. Maybe it was because he still remembers running away from them when he pick pocketed as a child. What ever the reason, he bounded to the left side. The whole expanse of wall was dimpled with small windows here and there. The brick-house design would be easy to scale with his training.

After tightening his strap on the top-part of the cello case, he grabs a hold of one rock after another as he quickly makes it to his own office, which was apparently on the third floor second window to the left. Zhi imagined an eight legged arachnid scaling the stem of a leaf just as he a wall. The web it had made glistened in the light as the spider shakes the newly formed morning dew. Zhi shook his head. Now was not the time to be daydreaming twenty feet above the ground and with a 40 pound instrument on his back. A second later he felt pressure hit the very back he was thinking of. He turned around and he was being attacked by guns from the very guards he was trying to avoid. In three great bounds he began trying to dodge bullets and the rest having ricocheted off of his case.

Finally reaching his window, he found it was locked from the inside. Choked for time, he pulled out a piece of chalk and wrote transmutation circles on all four sides of the window and interconnecting them to the one he made on the glass itself. He touched the glass as it lit up and turned instead of an up and down slide, into a glass doggy-door. He took off his case and tossed it inside, making quite a bit of noise before going in himself, while a bullet grazed his shin. Zhi quickly rolled in and sat down at a worn old bench, seeing how his musical love fared.

He opened the case and a shining auburn cello glowed there, waxed and preened to perfection. He picked it out of the dented silver case and into his arms, twinging it to see if the bullets altered it's sound at all. A low melody played and snaked in his ear lovingly without any disruption. He took a bow that was right next to it and began to play a lovely melody that flowed into the halls, making the guards realize that the person scaling the walls was just South's Head of Military Affairs.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kT0lRqGKU4k

[Guest]

And lo, people were scrambling up the floors. Now, Hei was on the second floor, but he had noted traffic was going up still, even though West HQ really didn't have too many interesting things above the second floor to be perfectly honest. So, naturally, the Xingese-Drachman wanted to see what was going on . . . also noting that there was this odd melody that clearly wasn't just background music from the HQ's speakers. No, this was a . . . ah . . . a um . . . stringed instrument of some sort, lovely thing, but Hei couldn't recognize it well.

Soon, on the third floor, there was a nice crowd of people who were waiting outside some office. And the source of that lovely piece of music was also emanating from that office. Needless to say, Hei was just as curious as anyone else concerning who the musician was. Closer, he drew to the door, gently pushing aside those who had already heard enough and were still clogging up the space since they were blind lemmings that had lost all sense of direction.

Imagine his disappointment when he saw a fellow with the traces of Xing-filth, better off than he was at least but still horrendous, playing this lovely melody. It did not quite compute, to be perfectly honest: Such vermin of the same background as he, that of the land of Xing to the far East, in whatever form were supposed to be incapable of such things. But, alas, it was like he always said. Things could only be improbable, but never impossible.

Though, he'd like to have a word or two with this fellow, it seems . . . figure out how badly contaminated he was and see if there wasn't anything he could do to help him. So, Hei waited . . . and waited . . . and waited, as the crowd outside got smaller and smaller, appreciating the wonderful music, but now wanting to divert their interests elsewhere. The Xing-Drachman just stood there, a bit away from the doorway, rooted and gazing in at the musician. It'd seem a little ... odd, given he was adorned in mostly black, had on sunglasses to keep his crimson eyes from gazing everyone with hatred and spite despite not having any and all that. But, it didn't matter, or at least, it didn't matter to him.

[Guest]

Music trilled up an down, sending a sweet and dark melody within each soul that listened. Reality and responsibility seemed to melt away with each stroke of the bow. Bringing awe and relaxation to every life. The world that they knew melted away and seemed to find themselves in a desert beneath the moonlight, before pollution and electricity came into the world. Where the stars and the great moon dominated the light in the dark. Where life itself was a miracle and the desert dunes was as tall as any building.

Your own breath in your ears as you ran, grains swirling around like magical dust. Almost making it so you could lift yourself just off the ground. The music brought them to a place where there was no care, no concern and people could live eternity in peace, if only for a moment. Zhi lowered his bow and brought his glazed watchers back to the solid ground slowly. He smiled lightly and put away his cello back into the case. As he was locking up, he looked up and noticed a man in dark clothes. Zhi pulled the strap over his shoulders and walked over to him and smiled. " Did you like the performance?"

(so short...)

[Guest]

"Did you like the performance?" came the immediate question that the cellist had to say. Well, considering he had been standing there, waiting and gazing at the musician, it wasn't that odd a question. But, there were others, so why single him out?

'And this is why I should never listen to conspiracy theorists . . . ' muses the Xingese-Drachman, noting his aggravating tendency to nitpick about minor and small details extensively. Still, it was an odd question for him, since he never really found himself appreciating the arts much. Yes, he found most, if not all, of it beautiful and respected the corresponding artists for their works, but to say he 'enjoyed' it was . . . odd.

No, his like and joy and praise were saved for other things. Silly things that made him feel alive. Those thing that make others cringe when they hear it, but, now he was trailing off in the recesses of his odd mind. The young musician had politely asked him a question, and it was rude to keep him waiting for a response.

"Ahhh, yes. It was quite . . . How do you say . . . captivating." his Amestrian needed some work, it'd been a while since he spoke in that language and the accents from his Xingese and Drachman words were slipping into it. Still, his response was a warm and cheery one, despite the odd pause there due to vocabulary failure, and he continued. "Do you play often in West City?" The question posed should suggest that he was not a resident of this area, but there was no telling how his question could be interpreted. Last time he checked, he was himself, and himself alone in mind and body.

And hopefully he'd get answers to his question before his stomach started growling, already being mightily uncomfortable . . . and he'd resort to eating someone if he couldn't get to a cafe or shop or something.

[Guest]

As he stood there waiting for an answer, he noticed that the man had more narrow eyes than the other people he sees around here. He must be some sort of foreigner or mixed breed. Bai grinned inwardly to himself. It seems that everywhere he went he saw mixed breeds of some sort of Arguese' or Xingese'. It just showed him that one person cannot be deemed special, though to himself he alone thought that because there are people like you, you were special. Life itself cannot go without one or two of the same thing, no? Else it wouldn't be as fun. Besides the point, it looked as if the man was grasping for words to describe something, even though Bai couldn't see his face that well.

"Ahhh, yes. It was quite . . . How do you say . . . captivating." Bai's own narrow eyes widened, their heterochromiad irises of brown on the right and blue on the left muddled behind his odd Ossie Osbourne purple glasses. 'he's Xingese...I knew it. How interesting!' His own mind began to whirl and try to figure this man out. Bai's love for puzzles was the only thing striving for truth. " Lets see, his posture shows that he's been in more than one fight while the right side of his face is dominant meaning that he's mostly on business purposes. His hair covers most of his face meaning he usually wants to be shielded from either private or public eye while his black clothes might mean he's some sort of secret...now what could that be-' He shook himself out of his own mojo. This wasn't some person off of the street, he was a person that deserves his devoted attention to.

"Do you play often in West City?" The man's accent made it clear it was difficult to speak Amestrian, though Bai couldn't help with that since he couldn't speak Xingese. A language that came from a country he was born in. " Uh, no I'm usually in East or South. I wanted to come here after I found out it was open to the public. I can just feel the history by walking down the-" Bai heard a loud gurgling coming from the man's stomach. Bai Zhi just smiled as he picked up his cello case and held out his hand. " Well it looks like I'm keeping you from some food. I'm a bit hungry myself. Mind If I join you?" He felt he could trust this man, though he always thinks that with everyone. It wouldn't be the first time he was wrong, but the same thing goes with when he was right. "I'm Bai Zhi. You?"

[Guest]

"Uh, no I'm usually in East or South. I wanted to come here after I found out it was open to the public. I can just feel the history by walking down the-"

'GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRUUUGHRRRRRRRRRRLLLLLLLLL' went Hei's upset stomach, as though violently perturbed that some funny part-Xingman was now talking silly to Hei, when Hei's tantrum-throwing stomach wanted FOOD! In fact, Hei's malevolent stomach demanded sustenance right this second, attempting to use its awesome abyssal depth and emptiness to override Hei's brain and force the Xing-Drach-man to start eating anything that looked remotely edible on sight: Which is anything short of toxic substances

"Well it looks like I'm keeping you from some food. I'm a bit hungry myself. Mind If I join you?"

At which point, Hei had gripped Bai by the throat, already taking advantage of his meal being so close to him. It really just took one move, his right arm lashing out with its clawed hands and burrowing those razor-sharp ends into his target's throat. In mere moments, he had effectively crushed the neck of Bai, and began biting down on the body, starting with the shoulder, overlapping serrated teeth gnashing and slicing the flesh which he greedily and joyfully swallowed with disgusting slurps of gulps. Yesssssss, this was exquisite, this was a meal. Human flesh, weighty and pricey due to the soul, and worth every god-damn much of its weight in gold. Yessssssssssssssssss. How could he NOT ENJOY THIS? THIS WAS THE MOST SUPERB OF ALL GAME, BROUGHT TO HEEL AND ANNIHILATED BY HIS OWN HA-

"I'm Bai Zhi. You?"

Oh. God. DAMN IT. Hallucinations from the hunger pains in his stomach. How he HATED those things. They made him come up with the weirdest visions, as though they were mystic suggestions to sate his hunger. Completely impractical ... and completely unreasonable. Well, unreasonable for now, since he was planning on actually spending money, as opposed to any other time.

"Hei Jin. And not at all." there was no slipup between his hunger-induced hallucination and when he gave his response. It seemed as though he was in thought, about whether or not to treat the musician to a bit of lunch ... as opposed to treating himself to a lunch of the musician. It would be noted that he was thinking, after all, he didn't answer immediately, but who doesn't deliberate on having a shared meal with a random stranger, an artist no less? And his eyes were concealed, his mouth giving a friendly smile (without showing his teeth) as natural as ever . . . just his body was still stiff from the god-damn war, but that could be written off as injuries.

Eh, still. Sharing meals with a talented artist was a good thing, it seems, as Hei began to make his way out of the museum and into the nearby cafes, with no doubt this 'Bai Zhi' along in tow.

[Guest]

Bai Zhi nodded. "Nice to meet you." As they walked down to the second floor and into the main hallway, Bai looked around like a tourist. All of the old exhibits of the history of this hall filled the area to the gills. The uniforms they wore to the bed they slept in was around here and Zhi was fascinated. " I haven't seen this part before..." This mumbling slipped out. Since it would be stupid to say due to the fact that if you took both the stairs and the elevator you would have to see this part of the museum.

He looked down the stairs and spotted the guards facing the outside of the building and his face turned white. " Ehehehe... Hei Jin...I'll meet you outside. I forgot my tip jar." Bai ran back up the stairs, down the hallway and up the stairs again before Hei could mention that Bai didn't have a tip jar. Bai ran through the room and tossed his cello out the window while holding onto the strap, lunging him out also. He gripped onto the outer sill and put the cello back on, then let go.

There was a long drop and then he did a few cartwheels in the air and landed frog-style on the side of the building. His childhood acrobatics gave him good leverage when it came to the cops back then. He was glad it was serving purpose now. He saw that Hei hadn't made it out front so he decided to walk by some off-duty guards, as much as it pained him. He stretched out his arms to relax from the fall and walked over to a tiny tree close to the entrance. Minutes later, the guards would realize their wallets stolen. He pulled out the cash and placed it on the inside of his mini vest with the rest of his money. He decided he would come back later and put the empty wallets in the lost and found.

[Guest]

"Ehehehe... Hei Jin...I'll meet you outside. I forgot my tip jar."

See now while Hei's use of Amestrian was impaired due to lack of practice and accents meddling into it, his understanding was still pretty reasonable. So he understood that Bai Zhi was out to go retrieve a tip jar, which was of course, utterly nonsensical since what sort of begging musician was he (if he was that, though it didn't seem like it since no one was willing to throw money at him, that and his clothes were in a bit too good of a condition to seal the perception of him as a beggar) to forget the tip jar? Especially one that didn't even exist?

The Xingese-Drachman was not one to let something as absurd as that slip, and soon Hei found himself following after Bai. It wasn't too hard, considering they hadn't quite left the second floor yet. That, and his possible-soon-to-be-lunch companion was a bit slower than Hei expected someone who could walk with a forty pound instrument without much strain could go. Or maybe he was just interpreting that speed by unfair standards, considering his exposure to Alchemists, Alkahestrists, Chimerae and Homunculi with ludicrous arrays of skills?

Eh, enough about that, he made it back to the original room where Bai had been performing, just in time to see the window . . . that was of an odd design, shut itself. Weird. Did his companion just commit suicide because he had lost his tip jar? Hei proceeded to the window, and gazed out to see his then companion displaying a wondrous combination of supple bodily movement and acrobatics to reach the ground with relatively little impact. And then he was going off to swipe some wallets from the guards, which brought out quite a chuckle from Hei, who was now opening up the window. Once last glance down to see where Bai went, and noting he was hanging by a tree close to the entrance.

And the Xing-Drachman jumped. It wasn't all that bad, just three floors up. He'd fallen from greater distances and suffered minor injuries, so this wasn't going to affect him much. And indeed, it did not, as he impacted against the ground, drawing surprised remarks from guards, citizens, tourist and other people as a man in black had just fallen from the skies, landed feet first and was now just standing up with little signs of discomfort. Truth be told, his body probably did feel something from all that, but his mind didn't register it and any effect that happened was negligible due to . . . many various traits of his.

The Xing-Drachman soon approached Bai, not sure if the musician had seen what he had done, but not caring if he had or hadn't. However, once he began speaking again, he slipped into the wrong tongue initially all due to habit. "You certainly are fast, though I'd never imagine you'd take a shortcut like that! Oh wait . . . Sorry, too used to speaking Xingese or Drachman."

The apologetic Xing-Drachman then made a sort of gesture. Or well, he just waved his right arm aside, as sort of 'follow me' thing, since the cafe wasn't all that far, just across from the museum. Hopefully, Bai was following him and they'd make it there, but alas. He wasn't quite sure if his wallet had enough for both of them, considering he had a black hole for a stomach. ... !

By the way, did you find the tip jar? Or was it the guards' wallets?" he inquires, with a bit of a smile. His expression clearly showed his intentions: He didn't care. He didn't care if his lunch companion was a pick-pocket who swiped wallets from others, so long as he didn't try taking his.

[Shula Brighton]

{BUMP}

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