|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Oct 08, 2011 1:04 pm
"Perhaps you should learn a thing or two from my sense of humor, seeing as you seem to be lacking one," the trainee gushed, carrying on with his teen girl performance.
Blinking curiously as the agent sighed a response, Izaya looked on in amazement as the workaholic transformed into a flamboyant fashionholic. It wasn't overly dramatic, nor was it underplayed - certainly more than the informant had ever expected from the serious Aila. He wondered how long she could keep it up, knowing full well how much she must have really felt about the behaviors she was displaying.
Grinning as she raised a brow at him, he mouthed, 'Not bad'. This was one of the sides of her he'd been hoping to see. It was played out with the short-lived delight of someone who didn't expect to remain so pleased for long, however, so Izaya knew she didn't mean to keep it up. What was the point of putting on an act if one didn't play it out until the very end, though?
Okay, so they weren't on a mission. There probably wasn't anything he could say or do to convince her to be a little more carefree without making her angry first. Everything she did seemed to be done because she felt obligated to, but Orihara held no illusions that she felt any sort of obligations towards him, especially as his superior in rank.
How, then, could he coax her into forgetting work for a while? Maybe if they were immersed enough in the hustle and bustle of the city, they could just act like normal civilians for once. It was worth a shot, wasn't it?
"Excuse me," Izaya asked a passing salesperson, tapping them on the shoulder. "Would you happen to have anything about this dark in my friend's size, here? Something warm that could be worn well under a coat. Maybe with a thick belt at the waist. I hear those are very in-fashion this year."
He glanced at Aila out the corner of his eye."Why don't you head to the dressing rooms with that scarf, Aila-chan? I'll be over there in a minute with something for you to try on. Maybe you could look for some shoes to match in the meantime."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Oct 08, 2011 2:09 pm
"Aww, now that's not a nice thing to say." A pointed pout gave way to a fleeting laugh. Oh hell, it was on now. He'd gone and turned it into a challenge, and she had nothing to gain from backing out. She doubted his aim had been to draw out this horribly fake act, but that was the limit of what she was going to give. Besides, it was good practice.
She feigned an interest in the nearby clothes as Izaya took the attention of one of the shop's employees, turning to the other Rocket when addressed, "All right then." She forced a musical quality into her response, regarding the salesman momentarily to give him the opportunity to evaluate her size as Izaya had requested.
Said salesman replied with a suave smile, "I'm certain we have exactly what you're looking for, sir." It was a canned answer, fake as Aila's own demeanor. A strange recognition settled into his features, however, as he turned his attention to the indicated girl. "Wait, Aila Aila?" he said, pointing an incriminating finger.
The named tensed slightly. The man's appearance struck no chords in her own memory, and it was too late to play it safe and deny her identity. Bringing confusion to her face took as little as dropping her usual poker face. "I'm sorry, I don't think we've met..." Next best solution: pretend to be a different Aila.
The employee stared a moment longer, obviously perplexed. "No way... You look just the same as you did before. Oh wait-- I guess I look kind of different? Marcus, remember?" A distinct excitement seeped into his tone, as though the name were bound to remind her.
And it did remind her, though perhaps not in the way he had been hoping. The silly teenage girl routine dissolved in an instant, leaving an expression of unabashed distaste. "...Oh."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Oct 09, 2011 1:45 pm
Yes! Now that's more like it, Orihara thought excitedly, pleased Aila had stepped up to the plate. Maybe she would eventually give in to the ridiculousness and hilarity that was their performance. Most people tended to be unable to keep from laughing at themselves when doing something they knew must have looked silly to others. Would she be able to stick it out to the end?
Sometimes, if one pretended long and hard enough, Izaya found that sometimes one ended up actually feeling how they acted. If Aila acted long enough like she was having fun and interested in clothes, maybe some glimmer of real interest would come through, and she wouldn't end up regarding the whole day as a waste of her time.
She knew how to use a sing-songy tone, too? Honestly, if this girl had gone into theater or film... she could have very well come out a famous actress. Too bad the recruiters who had scouted her out first had been Rockets. He watched the salesman assess Aila's measurements, his smile wilting slightly as it saddened. The girl had probably never had a normal life outside of crime. It wasn't likely that she ever would in the future, either. Such potential, talents, kindness, looks...all thrown out the window or minimally put to use for her work as an agent.
In an instant, though, the trainee's features had recomposed themselves into the usual, cheery expression Izaya wore on a regular basis. He took note of the manner with which the salesman's reply was spoken, raising a brow slowly as the stranger identified his superior agent's name. "Careful, now, it's rude to point," he said with a laugh, pushing down the finger aimed at Aila as if it were a gun. Out the corner of his eye, though, he cast his recruiter a curious look. She didn't appear to recognize him, but given the acting she had been in the middle of...
But really, how many 'Aila's could there have been around? The informant lapsed into silence, unsure of how to handle the situation. He thought it was best to keep his mouth shut. That was, until the agent finally acknowledged the young man as familiar. She didn't seem too pleased to recognize him, either. This 'Marcus' had ruined the game Izaya had set up. All that hard work to try to make Aila's day go better had gone to waste! Maybe this was why the young woman hated taking ventures into the city.
The trainee cleared his throat, reminding the other two of his presence. "Aila-chan," Orihara spoke up, his smile broadening as he fixed Marcus with a hard, narrow-eyed gaze. "who might this be? A past boyfriend of yours, perhaps? I certainly hope not another jilted stalker." He took a step towards the salesman, hands in his parka pockets, as if he were prepared to draw his switchblade on the man at any moment. Just like that, Izaya had transitioned from playing the role of 'happy, high school gal pal' to 'jealous, protective boyfriend'.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Oct 09, 2011 2:23 pm
Had she been made to keep up the act for the rest of the day, it was entirely possible Aila would have lightened up a bit - even if only slightly, and even if that was as far as it went. Marcus had spoiled more than Izaya's plans, though: The girl's expression made it quite clear that he had thoroughly spoiled her mood.
The salesman yielded to Izaya's warning, lowering his hand with a vaguely apologetic murmur. He opened his mouth to deny the suspicions of his identity but was cut off by the small Rocket's voice.
"Hah." Subconsciously, she turned from both Marcus and Izaya in response to the sudden reminder of the importance of maintaining a healthy level of isolation. "Now that is a laugh. No, I tend to avoid romance with subhumans."
Marcus looked between the suddenly threatening Izaya and the resentful Aila, raising a hand to the back of his neck slowly. "...Well damn. That's kind of harsh." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Uh, well... I was just sort of glad to see you, you know? Since the last time we saw each other was like... years ago... after the thing with the cops... I was worried for a while, but I guess you're fine?" He was clearly choosing his words carefully in an effort not to upset the two any further, but he failed on at least one count.
"Oh, of course, I'm sure you were so worried over the decision you yourself made against me. Clearly using me as a distraction so you could escape with your friends was the only reasonable choice you could make." Though she maintained a reasonable volume, the tone of her words was acrid and scathing.
Marcus visibly deflated, unsure of what he could say to combat the accusations when faced with such determined anger.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Oct 09, 2011 4:16 pm
Ouch. Subhuman, huh? And here Izaya had thought he'd seen Aila angry at him. Apparently that had been nothing compared to what she'd felt towards this fellow. His hard gaze softened, deciding the agent was hard enough on the salesman for both of them. Besides, he wasn't even sure what she was upset with him for. Marcus didn't appear to know anything about the Rockets, so those secrets, at least, seemed safe. Likely this was a guy who had known Aila back before her days as Bouquet.
"Distance makes the heart grow fonder," he sighed dreamily, mocking the young man's sentimental recollections. "But you know, when cops and betrayals were involved, they tend to ruin the nature of that saying a bit." Gathering pieces of the puzzle through the words exchanged, the info broker was beginning to see the big picture, and it didn't look good. "Care to explain yourself, Mr. Marcus?"
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Oct 09, 2011 5:20 pm
Aila scoffed. "You ask for him to produce an explanation, I ask you to produce blood from a stone. Let's see which will yield satisfactory results first."
Marcus fidgeted quietly until the word 'betrayal' came up, at which point he shook his head in denial. "What do you mean, betrayal? You're the one that didn't come back to the hide-- er," he lowered his voice slightly, suddenly aware that his manager might overhear him and get the wrong idea, "to the hideout. We waited for you for ages, you know? I was kind of freaking out..."
"Who would go back to someone who sent her away to act as a distraction?" Her tone was incredulous; he couldn't have honestly thought she would return.
The salesman breathed a frustrated sigh. "Okay, okay, from the top." Primarily for the benefit of Izaya, who had asked for an explanation. He didn't know what sort of relationship the two had, but if they were out shopping together they must have been friends, right? "Uh, when we were younger, Aila used to hang around with us... Us being me and a few other friends. She didn't speak much English... or like, any... Well, that part's not really important, I guess..." He floundered, attempting to nail down the words he wanted to say. It was difficult to talk about his days as a marauding thief in his current workplace.
"I learned a great deal from Marcus and the others," Aila filled in, having picked up on his hesitation. "We didn't have much, so we took what we needed. We weren't prominent thieves, but we were a distinct annoyance to street vendors." She spoke in a level tone, but the bitter expression in her eyes made it clear that her calm was an outward one. "At one point, the police were involved. Marcus claimed that we could slow them down by splitting up. What he meant was that he could slow them down by sending me to greet them."
The listening man frowned as she spoke. "I can own up to that," he said at length. "I was pissed off, and I wasn't thinking any further ahead than maybe three minutes... But--! But you could have at least come back to the hideout! We were seriously worried about you!"
Aila tilted her head, unmoved. "How quaint."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Oct 10, 2011 11:50 am
It was obvious from the 'friendly banter' that the two were long-time aquaintances. What Izaya wondered, though, was what Marcus' current interest was in Aila. He could have just gone on acting as though he hadn't known her, but it seemed he wished to win back her favor. He would have a tough time of it, though. Izaya knew first-hand.
"Now, now, children, no use crying over spilt milk," he cut in after a summary of the past events had been recounted. The saying that really came to mind, though, was 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned'. He understood this business more than he cared to tell, though; after all, gangs, their businesses, and members had been the center of a lot of his focus during his time as an info broker of Camphoreon.
The important question was, was Marcus still in this little group of theives still? And again, what did he want with Aila? Just to reconcile old differences? To just be friends again? Orihara wasn't buying it. The guy was stumbling over his words like a nervous kid with a crush, but why? As a leader of whatever friends Aila had used to have, he didn't seem all that confident.
"Okay, suppose you really were waiting," the trainee said calmly after the two were done. "The fact of the matter is that Aila was caught and you did nothing to come find her. Even if you had, she obviously didn't want to be a part of your little ring of friends anymore. Suppose she forgave you for that incident," he continued, glancing at the pink-eyed woman. "What good does it do you? Get it off your conscience after all these years? Make you the best of friends again?"
"Aila has her own life now - as, evidently, do you," the informant told Marcus. "What are you hoping to gain from this? You aren't still in connection with the rest of your thieving friends, are you?" Clearly Aila disliked Markus, but as the youths seemed to have had an influence on the girl's life in the past, he wondered if she would have liked to reunite with the others. Maybe she might even have wanted them to join Team Rocket...or maybe she'd just want the chance to tell them they could all go to hell. He cast her a curious look.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Oct 10, 2011 12:31 pm
Aila raised an eyebrow at the phrase, obviously unimpressed with its usage. She stood with her arms cross, still turned away from the other two and regarding them only with a sidelong glance from over her shoulder.
"Wait, wait," Marcus interjected on the claim that he hadn't searched for his companion. "Things are probably pretty different now, but at the time, looking for Aila was basically the same thing as looking for Aila's mom, and Aila's mom was scary, so--"
The interruption received an interruption in response, "She's dead, you insensitive a**."
The insulted flinched slightly and breathed out a sigh. "Okay... well... that aside, then." He was not building the strongest case for himself. He pressed his lips together in thought, obviously seriously contemplating his answer. "Well, I don't know... I don't expect us to be best friends or whatever - I mean, we haven't even spoken at all in five years, so... I guess I just didn't give it much thought at the time, you know? I didn't think that was the last time we'd see each other; if I'd known that, maybe we could have have parted on better terms." Maybe it was just a selfish desire to heal his own conscience, but it felt important nonetheless.
"Okay, hang on, just for the record, I'm not any kind of thief," he raised his hands defensively. "I was, and I'm not gonna deny that, but that's in the past. As far as the others go... Alice moved to another region, Isaac and me are rooming together, and Elliot... Haven't heard much from the guy. He was always the shadiest, so I wouldn't be surprised if he's still caught up in the stuff." He shook his head briefly, as if clearing away the subject. "What I want from this... I guess I just... don't think we should be on such bad terms, you know? Maybe not friends, but--"
"Thank you, Marcus." The girl actually deigned to face the addressed, arms at her sides and a professional demeanor on her person. "Regardless of the terms we parted on, I'm indebted to you for all you taught me, especially for your final lesson." She leveled a gaze against his that was both unforgiving and wounded. "The only person who will never betray me is myself."
Having said that was necessary, Aila moved to remove herself from the company of the traitor, headed for the store's exit at a brisk pace.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Oct 10, 2011 12:57 pm
Now it was Izaya's turn to sigh. Aila appeared to have adopted a sulky, pouting mood and it would take ages to get her to cheer up again. It seemed Marcus hadn't done enough investigating into Aila's disappearance to learn certain things, because he was briskly corrected by the irked agent's fact.
"Nonsense!" the skinny man cried cheerfully. "Once a thief, always a thief! People are too predictable to change, Marcus," Izaya stated slyly, perhaps having spoken said words loud enough to get the young man in trouble with his employers. At least he hoped as much, anyway. Orihara could be smart when he wanted to, but when his plans were ruined so quickly and easy by the slight, unforseen interference of another, he could also be very spiteful.
"...Looks like we won't be needing that outfit after all," the trainee said softly, watching Aila go. "Ah, well. I'm sure you have tons of people coming in here to commission you as a salesman anyway, what with you being so experienced in appealing to their better nature." With a sarcastic smile, the trainee headed after his superior agent. "Have a nice day~"
Aila was right, of course. She spoke the truth. Izaya knew that; he'd lived it all his life. He also knew that knowing that, despite the protection it could provide against being backstabbed, made living with the rest of the human race very lonely.
"Alia," the informer called once he was outside the store. He seemed to have dropped the affectionate suffix for the time being. "Aila, hold on a minute. I need to talk to you."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Oct 10, 2011 1:14 pm
"Hey--! Come on, are you trying to get me fired?!" Marcus spoke in a whispered shout, gesturing for Izaya to lay off that dangerous T word. A floor manager who had taken notice of the employee's conversation, however, made it quite clear that the accusation had not gone unnoticed - nor had the slacking. He uttered the beginning of an entreaty for the girl to stay as she departed but cut himself short before the words left his lips. He did, however, offer a reply to Izaya, "If you really believe that people don't change, you obviously don't know her very well." With that final, if not somewhat cryptic, message, he moved to his supervisor to attempt to right the damage potentially done against him.
Aila ignored the first call, but on the second she stopped and turned to face the other Rocket. She still had the keys to the car with her, after all, and while she could easily return to the base with her pokemon, she couldn't very well leave her recruit and the company vehicle. She offered no verbal assurance that she was listening, but a firm, penetrating gaze made it clear that he had a very short amount of time to make a very strong case before she directed her attentions elsewhere.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Oct 10, 2011 6:53 pm
Am I trying to get you fired? What was your first clue? the trainee wondered, rolling his eyes as he walked out of the store. Everyday civilians outside of Team Rocket were more stupid than he remembered. Again, he was starting to think he was beginning to understand why Aila prefered the base to the outside world. Either that, or maybe she and her anti-socialism were just rubbing off on him. What a horrid thought.
That last sentence that Marcus had left him with, though - what had that been about? Surely he couldn't have presumed to know anything about the current Aila now. Anyway, she had once been a criminal and she was still a criminal, so she hadn't changed in that regard. Could Marcus, perhaps, have been talking about Aila having changed from when he first met her up until when he fed her to the wolves?
He had mentioned that she didn't really know much English then. Somehow, though, Izaya got the feeling that Marcus had meant more than just picking up on behaviors, tricks of trade, and language when he implied that Aila had changed. Yes, the girl had changed; Izaya had even commented on it when Aila had met him at that coffee shop and recruited him for Team Rocket months before. She had become less formal and more responsible, but also learned more about teamwork. Still, now he wondered...had the independent girl taken to teamwork so well because she had once had this gang of friends to live with and learn from prior to TR?
So many questions, not enough answers. To ask would surely just bring about more stress to the alread-upset Aila. Orihara didn't dare ask just now. If only that stupid young man hadn't identified himself. "Forgive me if I've asked before..." he said, choosing his words carefully while he still had the teen's attention, "but if you had experience with a group of miscreants before and they left you for dead, what in the world possessed you to join Team Rocket?" He tilted his head slightly. "Why give the world another chance to stab you in the back?"
She was a strong girl; that much was true. How, though? And why? What did she feel she needed to be so strong for? Her mother was long gone, and as far as Izaya knew, she only had herself to make happy. The agent seemed far from being pleased with her life, though. Content, perhaps, but not happy.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Oct 10, 2011 7:21 pm
A brief but noticeable narrowing of her eyes were the only indication of the question unasked: Why bring this up now? There was a span of silence in which Aila obviously debated ignoring the question altogether. Her eventual response, however, came in the form of an actual reply that addressed the curiosity, "When I made the decision to join, I was not joining a team. I was being employed by a powerful and influential organization that would further me towards my goal more quickly and efficiently than I could do on my own." Of course, she had by now surpassed that goal, but it wasn't as though she could depart from the syndicate with a simple notice of resignation.
"I suspect you'll take interpret this as pitiful," and the mere thought that she would appear so pitiful bordered on disgusting, "but I no longer have a place outside of our organization." She lowered her tone, "I have stolen precious artifacts. I have killed innocents. I have willingly given my services to what can be perceived as acts of terrorism. Even if I could part from Team Rocket with my life intact, where would I be received?" Though her words were sorrowful in nature, her voice carried no such connotation. She spoke only facts, and she pronounced them as such.
"Betrayal and treachery are constants I have learned to accept. Anger merely makes them easier to tolerate."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Oct 20, 2011 10:48 am
The question left unasked went unanswered. Izaya didn't want to bring Marcus up again so soon. He wasn't even sure if he believed the young man, no matter how long he'd known Aila. He waited silently, patiently for her to say something. She could have easily change the topic and moved on, but eventually she answered his question. It made sense, seen in that light. That was much like the reason Izaya had joined the Rockets, after all, before he'd been chastised several times to become more involved in the teamwork aspect.
He remained quiet until she finished, taking in her words and processing them for both direct meanings and underlying ones. The fact that she thought he would believe her situation made her pitiful seemed to project that she herself thought she was pitiful. Izaya hadn't ever given her any reason to think that he thought anything she had ever done had been pitiful, did he? That could only lead to the conclusion that she was projecting her own opinions of herself onto him and what he might have thought of her.
Yet she was still willing to share this part about herself. She was listing out the crimes that she held herself most responsible for, as if confessing for her sins. All the while, he noted that she spoke these things with the emotion of a computer. Finally, Izaya put in his two cents.
"As someone who used to be a part of this city's underground workings - and maybe still am, in a way - I have to respectfully disagree with your not having a place outside of Team Rocket," he said. "Faces can be altered. Names can be changed. 'Nakura' was a name I took from a man I practically owned from middle school. If it's your appearance you're worried will be recognized, an old high school friend of mine does illegal surgeries. Anything is possible - if you're willing," he added, walking a few steps closer to Aila.
"The fact of it is, though, I think you need Team Rocket. You want to be a part of something professional - an excuse to be around people you're not required to have emotional ties to. People who will support you regardless of their personal opinion of you. When you're sick of people, there's always paperwork to turn to. Pokemon to train. It's an endless job filled with tireless tasks that you can drown yourself in when you don't want to dwell on your past...or your future."
He approached her more cautiously, as if expecting she would bolt at any second. "Is there anything left in the world that has a chance of making you happy, Aila? I don't mean merely being content, either. I mean something that makes you passionate about life. Do you have anything left to live for besides Team Rocket? Anything for yourself?"
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Oct 20, 2011 1:13 pm
The notion that she could change her face and name visibly offended Aila. "I would have to be willing then, wouldn't I?" she responded, her words biting at Izaya's. "I do not have such a fickle attachment to my identity. Anyone who does has no regard for who they are." Her name and appearance were the only connection she had with her birthright, and she refused to forsake her family for anyone, least of all for herself.
"I don't need Team Rocket to achieve that," she refuted. "Nor is that what I hope to achieve through being a part of Team Rocket. I believe that being forced to interact with others and having responsibilities to an employer have improved me as an individual, but I survived happily for years without either of those things. Your inferences fail to amuse me, let alone describe me."
Certainly, the expression in her eyes indicated that she was growing weary of Izaya's company and part herself from it at the first wrong word. For the moment, though, she remained. "I'm not sure what you're trying to ask," she replied. "I have a feeling that our definitions of 'happy' are very different."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Oct 20, 2011 1:45 pm
"Well, you know, there aren't many people who would be so attached to their identity had they the impressive credentials you just listed off," Izaya answered off-handedly, acting as though he hadn't noticed her take offense. "Do you know any murderers of children who would rather remain in hiding for the rest of their life than start a new one as a different person? Because you're the only one I know."
He sighed, unable to understand why Aila desired to keep such strong ties with her family. He himself treated his family the way he treated any other random stranger. But her family... did she keep in even keep in touch with them still? He'd thought the old, aristocratic Aila was gone, but it seemed she was still in there somewhere, and her new self wasn't about to forsake her past. It was like she was determined to cling to the only thing holding her back. Such sentiment.
"I'll agree; happiness is a very subjective feeling," he said after a time. "Let me try to reword my question: what more do you want out of life?"
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|