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 Posted: Tue Dec 27, 2011 2:18 pm
 
This is a PRP Between Bataar (Kayakurai) and Van (Kurama no Koishi).
Setting:
It's not until Van is all moved in to her new ger that she discovers something is amiss.
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Posted: Tue Dec 27, 2011 2:21 pm
A pair of heeled boots planted themselves firmly in the soft dirt. Van dropped both of her cumbersome duffel bags to the ground, placing her hands on her hips as she surveyed the grand ger in front of her. Mongolian-style housing hadn’t exactly been what she was looking for, and the place was a bit over-the-top ostentatious even for the fighter’s taste, as it was supposed to house families. Still, she couldn’t object to the deal that Odval had cut for her—the Mongolian woman had seemed quite hasty to rent the place out. Why? Van hadn’t cared to ask, and because of this she didn’t know that the place had recently been occupied until just a few hours ago.
The decision to move out of her home in the forest had been sudden, but in Van’s mind, it was about time she left. She had outgrown the jungle, the wildlife there, and the memories associated with it. A new home to start the new chapter in her life—she couldn’t continue to depend on her parents if she wanted to make leaps and bounds in her growth as she now needed to.
Logistically, the new location would also work in her favor. The area by Lunaria's beaches was largely populated by Nobles, many of them high ranking. Van had no fear of being converted, of course—all of this was in effort to get closer to finding out where her older brother was being kept. The Legion was already working on it, of course, but this wasn’t about the Legion. It was about Van’s personal loss.
Jingling the keys a bit in her gloved hand, the Legionnaire stepped forward to unlock the door to her new home, marveling a bit at the polished interior as she swung the door open. Dragging her bags inside, Van sighed and moved to seat herself on the dark wooden floor in the middle of the round building. It had been a long day, first bargaining with the one-eyed Mongolian woman, and then figuring out how to move all of her things from the northern rainforest here (her many male friends would be here within the hour).
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Posted: Tue Dec 27, 2011 2:47 pm
Bataar had been striding swiftly down the path that led to his beautiful new home, looking rather pleased with himself. He'd only moved in two weeks ago but he'd already populated the place with rats and filled it to the brim with furs. It was his dream home, a sort of reward for becoming a Noble captain, he supposed. Odval had moved him in quite happily and although she was pissed off at him now for some reason or other, he felt confident in his place with the impressively-sized ger.
"What the...?" the Mongol muttered, his green eyes darting around in confusion. His belongings were strewn haphazardly along the path and, at one point, were merely piled up. It was everything. There was not one item in the Mongol's household inventory that had not been gutted.
At this point, Bataar was running. If the bastards that had done this to his ger were still around, he was going to kill them. He had no idea that it was his mother, and that his home was now for rent; both of those concepts were far from his mind. This had to be someone's idea of doing damage to a Noble captain such as himself! He burst in the door and had to stop himself from barreling directly into the Legionnaire seated on the floor. This was not happening.
He stared around at the empty interior, feeling fury bubbling to the surface. This was, as far as the Mongol was concerned, going way too far. "Get out of my house," he snarled, his green eyes glinting with rage. Sure, they hated each other and all, but this was more than that. He had previously put Van above such acts, but he supposed that her soul was somehow blackened. To actually try to move into his currently occupied house... this was NOT going to happen. He had finally moved up a few steps from a tent and now she was trying to ruin it!
"Must've taken you all morning to get my stuff out," he added with a growl, balling his fists. Van was seriously going to die this time.
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Posted: Tue Dec 27, 2011 3:10 pm
The only thing that remained in the ger, Van noticed as she continued looking around, was a tigerskin rug on the ground. The fighter thought it looked rather familiar, but for some reason or another, she couldn’t place it. She would simply consider it a complimentary decoration from the Mongolian woman—Odval really was a rather generous woman, wasn’t she? Trying to welcome her new tenant in with a cultured gift and all that. Van sighed in satisfaction, her cursory look around the building complete. It wasn’t every day that one found an excellent house for rent, with a nice landlady in charge of it.
Unfortunately, her happy state was about to come crashing down to the floor. Van scrambled quickly to her feet when she heard the door crashing open, and words evaded her in her dismay at seeing the Noble captain inside her house. Why, had she made the unfortunate move into a Noble neighborhood just to have this particular Noble as a neighbor?
As a fighter with petite stature, she had long since lost her fear of much larger Lunarians. She glared up at Bataar as he stood in front of her, as if daring him to challenge her. He did. The next things he said made no sense to her, but Van knew she had worked far too hard to secure a house for it all to be unraveled by this man. “Let’s not get carried away, now,” she said, her violet eyes flashing indignantly. Pulling a rolled up piece of parchment from a concealed pocket, she shoved the paper into his face. It was her copy of the lease, signed both by Van and a particular Odval.
“I live here,” she sniffed, raising her nose, “You are in the wrong house.” There was nothing he could do about it. Van was sure that Odval, in all of her fairness, would back her up on the lease.
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Posted: Wed Dec 28, 2011 8:40 pm
Bataar was rarely this enraged, even in the midst of battle. He didn't know what to do, and he knew even less about what he ought to say in the face of such certainty on Van's part. He snatched the scroll and stared at it for a few moments, acting as if he could read the tiny characters written upon the page. Of course, he could not. The man reddened, wondering if he'd been caught for his failure, and proceeded to throw the scroll down upon the floor. "This means nothing to me!" he roared, really rather truthfully.
He wondered what it meant, or who had written it, but there was hardly time now that he had staked his claim to try and get his ger back. Bat was not about to back down, especially not for a piece of paper that he couldn't even read. The man stood his ground, and glowered down at the fighter in front of him. How dare she? Van had no right to be in this part of town, anyway-- this was an area for Nobles, not Legionnaires. That much was obvious.
It was around this point that Bat noticed the one remaining item in the house. It was his beloved rug, Tiger. The man stomped up to the attractive fur and snatched it off the floor, determined to keep it even if Van's paper was somehow in the right. The stuffed tiger's head dangled awkwardly from the captain's well-muscled arms and he glanced at it for a moment, his body language providing enough information to suggest that he cared for the dead animal about as much as any child cared for their stuffed animals. It was a trophy, and one that he would not allow to stay with Van. He had beaten the tiger.
But beyond that, there was no possible way that Van could live here. "No, I live here. My mom got it just for me!" he objected, a childish dislike showing through in his expression as he appealed to his absent mother.
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Posted: Thu Dec 29, 2011 2:14 am
The only thing that Van could do was stare, somewhat aghast as he threw the scroll aside and continued to assert that he was the owner of the place. The fighter had no idea that Bataar was unable to read, but she knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that she had definitely sat through the whole new-tenant process with Odval, and that she was not crazy, like Bataar was displaying himself to be. She had painstakingly gone through every single word of the written agreement, unlike many before her, and was not above calling him out on it. Glowering a bit at the man in her ger, as well as at the scroll that had been so carelessly cast aside, she sniffed again.
“No wonder this place was so easy to find,” she said scornfully, a biting venom piercing through her glare, “The last tenant had you as a disruptive neighbor!” If the expression on her face was any indication, Van was certainly unhappy to be living anywhere near this captain. However, too much effort and money had been expended for her to merely back down so easily. The ger was rightfully hers to live in now, after all.
Placing her hands on both hips, Van planted her feet. She was definitely not going anywhere. Bataar’s absolute rage was a bit unsettling though; the woman had never seen him quite so angry even during their numerous fights with each other. It was, perhaps, more prudent not to try to provoke him further, however wrong he may have been. Taking a deep breath, she said, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave, Bataar.” But her purple eyes flickered to the large tiger rug he clutched in his arms, and in another show of defiance, she couldn’t stop herself from adding, “Leave the rug.”
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Posted: Fri Dec 30, 2011 9:07 am
Bataar was aware, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he wasn't taking the best course of action by throwing a temper tantrum inside of a ger that didn't seem to be his anymore. He didn't understand how this could have possibly happened, which was the root of the problem. Odval had purchased this ger for Bataar. Why would she allow a Legionnaire to move in? She wouldn't! The Mongol felt justified in his direction of thought, but was utterly thrown off when Van commented that, obviously, he was a neighbor.
"The last tenant is... well, the current tenant is ME," he growled, knowing in his heart of hearts that the ger was rightfully his. Who could have possibly rented the place out when he wasn't looking? This entire situation was still unthinkable, and the fact that the Legionnaire was Van of all people only made everything that much worse.
He saw that she wasn't planning on going anywhere, but neither was he. As she told him to leave, Bataar found it in himself to sit upon the floor, rug still in hand. It would be physically impossible to move him against his will unless she wanted a fight, and if she wanted a fight he'd be up to it. "Beyond the fact that the ger is mine, so is the rug. Recognize him, idiot?" Bataar clutched the head and shook it in Van's direction, attempting to lend it some degree of animation for the Legionnaire.
This tiger skin rug was his property and he would go down with it to prove a point.
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Posted: Fri Dec 30, 2011 9:34 am
Van’s patience was beginning to wear thin, as it often did when she was dealing with the Noble captain. She shook her head from side to side, disagreeing with him just as soon as the words could come out of his mouth. He may be stubborn, but Van was known for being impossible to argue with once she’d already made up her mind. And she had made up her mind about living here a long time ago.
The fighter did give his words a bit of thought. It was possible, of course, that he had indeed been the last tenant, and that Van was having the great misfortune of moving into a place that used to be his mancave. She suppressed a shudder, thinking of all of the rats that must have run rampant in the place before. If anything else, she would at least have to scrub the hell out of the place and call in an exterminator before she settled in entirely. Such things were, however, a small price to pay for keeping the property.
He was wrong anyway. Van crossed her arms exasperatedly, shooting Bataar another poisonous glare, as if this alone could move him from the spot. “Well, it doesn’t matter who the last tenant was—that doesn’t change anything. This place is still mine.” She watched him continue to swell up in anger, and she realized somewhere in the back of her head that if they were to continue like this, it was probably a better idea to do it outside.
Violet eyes followed the tiger skin rug as Bataar shifted the thing to and fro, giving it a sort of demonic life. Van furrowed her brow for a moment, trying to figure out where it had come from, when the memory of scaling trees and fighting in her nightgown in the jungle struck her. Her face remained set in the frown that had suddenly appeared, but she shrugged, pointing at him in an authoritative manner. “Fine. Both of you. Get out.”
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Posted: Fri Dec 30, 2011 11:21 am
Idly, Bataar wondered where all of his pet rats had gone. The ger looked disturbingly empty, and he wondered if whoever had moved all of his stuff out had also gotten rid of the rats. As much as he loved the furry creatures, he didn't trust them to come back home and felt, somewhere deep inside, a brief wave of anxiety about the animals. Where was he going to live now? He couldn't very well return to his dismantled yurt. He would have to find victory, here and now, because this was his mancave.
Van seemed to be determined to deny all of his claims, however, which was most certainly resulting in building tensions between the two of them. They wouldn't be getting out of this without a fight, the Mongol could see. That was fine. He was more than prepared to fight for himself against the Legionnaire and he didn't feel a bit of reluctance. This was always how decisions were made and arguments were ended between the two, and things were not on the verge of change. "It's not yours. It's mine." Bat set the words down flatly, cracking his knuckles in an attempt to inspire fear within his would-be opponent.
The rug was, at least, a small battle won in the Mongolian man's mind. He stood up abruptly and slung the item over his shoulder, looking more than a little determined to get his way in this. He began walking forward quite slowly, his eyes upon the fighter standing just in front of him, quite aware that it was his time to demonstrate ownership over the structure that they were standing it. This was his. He wasn't going to walk out with a fight.
And so it commenced, with Bataar throwing the tiger skin rug directly at his opponent, hoping for some damage with the teeth of the thing. "I'm not leaving," Bat declared, ready to follow up with a punch.
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