There were no other words strung together that would be apt, no phrases that would apply. Gokan Bushino, in his current state, should be dead. Lungs should've flooded, internal organs should've become saturated and failed long ago; yet the Saiyan remained, staggered, defiant, his head held high and his arms in the air.
DJ was on point and he was going to dance, regardless of how drunk he was; regardless of the fact that this was his third night out this week.
The Saiyan bobbed and weaved through the mass of bodies, keeping on beat and maintaining his rhythmic dance in spite of his heavy inebriation. It was kind of surprising that he was able to keep his pace and tempo, and people around him weren't ignorant of that fact. Quite a few people seemed to at least slow down or stop what they were doing outright to watch Gokan engage in his boastful display of intoxicated dance moves, most of which were aided by his extensive martial arts training.
He may not fight much these days, but the moves and bodily conditioning would come in handy regardless!
As these things happen, his boastful drunken dancing quickly made him the center of attention, but he wasn't the only one drinking copiously of the spiked fruit punch of life. Or the rather good liquor the bar held. Ophelia wasn't a minor - she was amazed to find that this meant she could drink a frankly bitter, disgusting drink that could be mixed rather fantastically into several other beverages to create something that felt... very good indeed. She wasn't really the dancing type - she'd normally have been burying her nose in a book, but... she'd always done that, and tonight she'd been invited to the local club by her landlord's daughter and her friends. She was about their age... and had come along, simply because it was novel.
Fee was not regretting this decision yet, and found herself dancing with a dark-haired young man, athletic, handsome... and he had moves. She smiled, nowhere near as skilled a dancer as Gokan, but she had spirit, and was sincerely happy, gyrating and wiggling to the beat of the heavy trance beat, her bright blue eyes flashing, her untoned but lithe form gleaming with sweat and sleek curves.
Gokan wasn't the least bit surprised at the crowd he had managed to attract. In the drunken haze he currently existed in, he couldn't possibly realize that he was making a damn fool of himself with the ridiculous moves and poses he pulled off. Sure, there was a percentage of the ridiculous body contortions and quasi-breakdancer moves that were actually legit and captivating, but a lot of it was downright showboating and silliness. Of course, he didn't care, nor did most of the people he was surrounded by. Hell, a lot of people were cheering him on and egging others to join in.
Damn right, it was a dance floor! People better be trying to keep up.
Eventually, someone got the idea that Gokan's genius suited her perfectly. The brown haired woman slid and gyrated her way past the apparent competition, making way toward the Saiyan dancer. The look in her eye--was she approaching him for a dance-off? Well then, challenge accepted! Gokan would put out his best moves and show her and the entire city that not only was he the best dancer on the Vargas strip, but the best dancer in all of Raverit--oh, no, she just wanted to dance with him, apparently.
That was good too, though it would be a lie to say Gokan didn't have the briefest moment of disappointment etched across his face and soul.
But that was before his brain completely pieced together the fact that there was an attractive female practically on top of him on the dance floor. Didn't take much for neurons to properly fire off once that realization was made. "You....made the right choice!!" he boomed, his voice held down by a slight alcohol induced slur to his speech, "I got the best moves in town!"
The dance floor spun, and the beat that surged through the air became a physical thing, pulsing and pounding and driving Fee's senses to a near delirium state. The drink had been good, and it had been plentiful, and it had knocked down the walls of her inhibitions. She was having the time of her life, allowed to cut loose for the first time she could ever remember... and it was good.
Pan the camera away from the dancing oracle, away from the half-Saiyan she bumped and ground against on the dance floor, away from the people who were dancing and cheering and having a good time. Push the perspective back, and back and back... to the bar, where a pink duffel had been left in the bartender's keeping, where the bartender was having words with a young man. Money changed hands... a lot of money - more than the bartender would need to run the club for half a year... and suddenly, he wasn't so trustworthy anymore. The pink bag was offered up, and, with a glance at the dancing girl and her partner, the young man just... walked away. No muss, no fuss.
Ophelia opened her eyes and sat up with a gasp, not because she'd had a nightmare - no, quite the contrary. She hadn't dreamed at all. In fact... she felt pretty good. Tired... sore in places she wouldn't begin to talk about without a map, and there was this... stuffed full of cotton wool feeling between her ears, but... she felt ok.
She smiled, and flopped back into the bed, curling up onto her side, eyes shut tight. The light bothered her. "Ну , что было весело..." she murmured softly, and curled up... into the breast of someone rather large... rather... muscular, but warm. And... naked. In her bed. A man was in her bed. Only... it wasn't her bed. Her apartment didn't smell like gym socks and cologne. She... was in a man's bedroom. And she too was naked. Her eyes were owlish as she breathed, attempting to remain... very calm. "Oh."
Bumpin and grinding in the night club eventually lead to Gokan and his new female acquaintance to leave the nightclub, likely after several more heavily intoxicating drinks. And if she didn't drink, Gokan most definitely did. Sometimes, it was as if that's all he ever did, which once again makes it a surprise that the young man was alive in the first place. Saiyan biology was a wonderful thing, being able to survive under these dire circumstances.
Eventually, his mind went into the haze of a drunkard, and the only thing he could really recall was leaving the club. Where he went after that, and how he got to his destination, he had no clue.
A surprise that was, really.
His alcoholic coma was interrupted by the sounds of something, prompting him to let out a mild groan before he shifted on the mattress and on to his back. There, he probably would've remained for the next eighty-seven hours, and happily so, had something quite fleshy plop against his chest in his restful state. He ignored it for about thirty seconds after it stirred his mind to actual consciousness, hell bent on going back to sleep until it donned on him that yes, something or someone was actually resting against him.
Whatever noises the mysterious mystery made weren't processed by his brain as he expelled yet another groan as he, eyes still closed, shifted his body into the direction of the unknown subject on his bed. His eyes began to open slowly, with the small trickle of light that flushed between his eye-lids already agitating his senses within the picoseconds it took for his vision to start adjusting to visibility. A migraine would be on his agenda for the next several hours, if not the remainder of the day. Just his luck, really.
Once his brain decided to turn the various blobs and blurs into actual images, Gokan quickly realized that he was back home, and in his room, and that the lovely brunette from the night before apparently came back with him. The two of them being naked was the next thing he noticed. His eyes darted across her figure briefly, barely long enough to notice metallic outlines across varying areas of her body. There was a cute girl and a boob in his face, so he was distracted a bit.
"Uh...hey." He said. A name would've been tossed in that sentence too, but he couldn't remember it.
Hell, did he even bother asking for her name? Gah, he was an asshole.
"Um... Hi" the girl replied, in a similar state of awkward muzzy incomprehension and ice cold trickle down the spine realization. She... had slept with a man. She... was in a stranger's bed. She hurriedly tried to piece together last night, but it was a doomed effort and her memory engineer told her this was so. It did not have the power, captain. She blushed considerably, the brunette's wild hair teased from her eyes. But... she didn't precisely get up either.
What did she do? What should she say? She felt curiously... content, and very, very dirty. She couldn't quite explain later why she felt that way, but she did, rolling to her back and clutching his sheets over her chest, very nearly hiding behind them as she tried to occupy as little space as she possibly could in his bed, eyes still huge and owlish with apprehension.
"Um... I'm sorry... I..." How did you finish a sentence like that? 'I appear to have slipped and fallen onto your genetalia. What did you say your name was again?' seemed a bit idiotic. Or maybe 'Oh, was this YOUR bed? I'm sorry nameless person! So sorry, I'll just be going!' seemed... a really rotten thing to say.
She settled in the end for saying "... I um... I don't remember your name..." and turning even pinker.
It wasn't too surprising that things were far more awkward in real life than his brain could've ever predicted. I mean, really, what the hell could you, would you, or should you say when you stare down a person who lay naked in your bed from a night you can't even recall? What the hell do you say when you admit to yourself that this wasn't even the first time it happened? Yeah, the girl was hot and all, but damn did Gokan feel like an asshat for letting this happen to him again.
Paranoia would eventually start to creep up on him right around the same time the girl slipped back underneath the covers, obscuring her nakedness from him. It was a trope that Gokan never really understood--they'd both obviously did some shit the night before and were both still quite nude, what was really the point in covering up after the fact? Even while considering all of this--his thoughts going to this and interrupting his bout of paranoia--, he did the same as she, grabbing a handful of his bedding to cover himself up.
And then, right back to the paranoia.
The last time this happened, some government SWAT team busted into his house and pointed all manner of military equipment into his face. Sure, he wasn't worried then considering that he was physically superior than the entire SWAT team combined by a significant margin, he couldn't help but wonder if this woman was some sort of fancy government person who was going to have her own personal SWAT team on his ass within the hour. He sighed and turned back to the girl as she apparently struggled with her words, only to say that she couldn't even remember his name.
YES! The problem wasn't his own!
The Saiyan let out a chuckle to himself immediately after she said. "I don't even think we told each other our names." What horrible people they must be for not doing such a thing. "Name's Gokan by the way."
Fee blushed a little more and giggled, the relief coming off her like steam as she relaxed considerably on his bed. "Ha! We... we didn't even exchange names! That's... why'd we do that? Why... didn't we, I mean?" she said, just about steaming relief "W-we're terrible people... aren't we?" she asked softly, and smiled at him, the expression as muzzy as she felt. She lifted her head then, and scanned the immediate area of his room. She as sure as hell wasn't going to sit up and show him her body again. She had difficulty articulating why this was the case, but it WAS. ALOT.
"I um..." she blinked, and decided to take the lesser of two evils and, clutching the sheet to her chest, sat up. Her hairband and glasses were on the bedside table. She put them on like someone thirsty, clutching the sheets in her clevage and then running her hands through her hair once to straighten it out after which she slid her hairband into place - it fit perfectly to her head, and the glasses were to follow. Almost immediately, the glasses began to warm up, began to fill with her neuroimpulses. Light glinted from them and they were clear as any other glasses, but from her perspective, she could see a small green bar beginning to fill. When it was full, she expected an earful.
"Could you... um... could you..." she stared at her little sundress, her panties, her bra.. they were folded in a neat little heap over her pumps and backpack. She pointed at them "Could you... pass me my... my clothes?" she asked, a smile still in her voice
"We're terrible, horrible, suck ass mofos," Gokan started before letting out another, heftier chuckle. There was no way in hell that he would let it slip that this wasn't the first time he'd been in this situation though; last thing he needed was someone to think that he was complete and utter scum. That was just something that was untrue!--95% of the time, at least. The entire time, Gokan fought against the urge to wince in utter agony. His head was pounding so much that he was surprised that he wasn't teary-eyed. Instead, he continued to play it off, you know, because of the attractive, naked chick that was currently in his presence.
He had no intention of using their comical situation to do anything further, but bookmarking this for a later date wouldn't have been too far out of the question in his mind.
When asked, Gokan sat up and moved to retrieve her clothes. He paused for a moment to temper his need to whine over his pounding head, and to grab a pair of underwear from his nearby dresser and his gym shorts from the floor. After making himself presentable enough to wander about without making things weird(er), he moved toward the wall and grabbed the pile of clothing and the backpack off of the floor and tossed it on to his bed. "You know, you still haven't mentioned your name."
Ophelia smiled at Gokan's admission that he, too, was a terrible person. She watched him move around the room, getting a goodly sized eyeful of his body as he did. Odd... he was attractive, that was certain, but she recognized that only distantly. Maybe it was the way he moved that threw her for a loop - he looked like he was... seriously in pain, and she only a few seconds into thinking about why considered that he might be hung over. She'd seen that before - Mr. Mecha had gotten hung over several times in the past. Well. She knew what to do about a hangover, at least.
She looked away when he would see her staring at his form, and blushed a tiny bit more. Again. Odd, how... comfortable she felt with the situation. When he tossed her things onto the bed, she thanked him gratefully, and nodded.
"No, sorry. I um... My name is Ophelia." she said. No way in heck was she going to say her 'real' name to him, even though Ophelia WAS her real name, in a way. She'd Awoken with it in her head - not just a suspicion, but knowledge. Certainty. Her name was Ophelia Markhearth. She must have been noone before then, because the deepest Lookie searches had yielded nearly nothing. She sifted her underwear and clothes from the pile of stuff, and blushed up at him.
"... could you... turn your back for me?" she asked, and looked sheepish, biting her bottom lip and giving an odd little shrug, as if to say 'cuz, you know. Its not like we haven't slept together or anything, but'. When he did, she rose. She wasn't incredibly feminine, she reflected. She wasn't well toned, her legs didn't go on for miles, and her curves and breasts were a bit sparing. She was a mousy thing, with mousy brown hair and average height and weight.
With her own back to him, her extensive scarring, all in methodical lines surrounding somewhat ghastly looking metallic implants, the flesh around them long ago healed - so they weren't at all recent - but their purpose, from the smaller ones along her spine to the larger one with the mooring plates and supports at the base of her spine and the plug in the back of her head... it wasn't apparent what purpose they served. She did have a tattoo though, in the small of her back. Green angel wings, words in ribbons woven among them, the script odd, Rodinan. It read "Теперь я стал смертью / Pазрушителем миров". The tattoo was vivid, simple, stylized. And quickly concealed as she slipped into her dress, and turned, smiling at him, adjusting her glasses.
"I know a remedy for hangovers." she said simply, and, hands folded in her lap, she beamed "May I make us breakfast?"
Post by Gokan Bushino on Dec 20, 2014 10:49:30 GMT
"Ophelia, huh? Has a nice ring to it." In the seven years since arriving on Eden, Gokan had yet to encounter anyone with that name, which lead him to believe that either it was entirely unique or just extremely uncommon. He had sort of a fondness for people with unique or creative and elegant sounding names. No real understanding as to why, but it was just one of those little things that happened to pique his interest for one inexplicable reason or another.
When she asked for him to turn around so she could get dressed, Gokan's face twisted into a confused gaze. Once again, it was one of those things he really couldn't comprehend, considering that the two likely slept together the night before, given that they both woke up naked and disheveled. But, since he wasn't a dick, he did as Ophelia asked and turned around so she could get more presentable.
And of course, he was male, so a stolen glance was of course part of the equation.
While the woman turned around herself, Gokan craned his head around to catch a quick glance. Instead prompting state of arousal, he merely became mystified and curious by what he'd seen etched into her flesh: scars and exotic looking metallic things? Where they machinery? Gokan's early life was full of scars from all manner of things, and first instinct made him think that Ophelia had seen more than her fair share of combat. While he couldn't rule out her being in a fight at some point in her life, he had a feeling that the vast majority of her scars came from elsewhere. A lot of them looked too clean; maybe they had something to do with the metal thing protruding from her body?
He couldn't mull over it all for too long since it really didn't take too long for his female companion to get dressed. Gokan righted his posture and went back to staring at the wall in short order, playing off his quick but likewise eternal glance off as if nothing happened. He waited a handful of seconds before turning around again.
And of course, Ophelia captured his interest when she mentioned hangover cures and pretty much had his heart when she mentioned making breakfast. His face lit up in excitement before she could even finish her sentence. He didn't respond immediately, and instead grabbed his discarded t-shirt and quickly slipped it on. "Follow me!" the Saiyan exclaimed before he lead the way out of his room and down the stairs toward the kitchen.
Maybe it was true what they said, that good food was the quickest way to a man's good graces. She'd felt his eyes on her when she'd turned, but everything that was worth seeing about her was forward optimized. He was a man, after all - maybe she had to expect this kind of thing? Besides, how bashful did she have the right to really be, considering that she'd awoken naked in his bed? Even so, the girl blushed and as she turned, she pushed her glasses up, taking on a businesslike air. Food - that was the thing.
"So um... what do you do for a living, Gokan-san?" she asked, then immediately kicked herself and tried to think about how to describe what she herself did for a living. She wasn't 100% clear about it herself, but she instinctively felt that dishonesty would be unwelcome, even if she did end up telling him something like 'I'm a spook'.
Post by Gokan Bushino on Dec 20, 2014 23:52:30 GMT
Other than the two of them, the house was pretty silent.
Score for them, at least for the time being.
Gokan had very little belief in the fact that his sister nor his roommate weren't home; he had a feeling they were both tucked away in their rooms somewhere, likely with people of their their own with them. not like it was rare for more than ten people to be present in the house on any given day.
He knew, however, that should either one of them happen to wander out into the kitchen any time soon, he was going to catch another shitstorm. Hell, his sister still hadn't let him live down the police raid and all of the attention that brought on to them.
Then again, she got the house shot up by a bunch of thugs, so Gokan kinda wins in any disputes.
The former monk lead Ophelia through the kitchen, making note of what went where and an obvious joke as to the location of the refrigerator and its miraculous contents before he casually got out of her way and sat down on one of the stools that were lined up near the center island of the kitchen. "Eh, I don't do anything special," he said in response to her question, "Just retail; you know, selling cell phones, TVs, and that kind of stuff. Nothing glamorous, but it pays rent well enough. How about yourself?"
The girl admired his house visibly, as if it was a palace - it wasn't polite interest, it was sincere, honest to goodness awe. "You... you live here?" she asked, awe and wonder in her voice as much as in her face. She ran her hand down the railing that went down the stairs and looked back up, as if she was still processing the fact that a home, a private place of residence, could have a second floor. Maybe this kind of thing wasn't that impressive to most people, but to her... who had Awoken and had lived in a couple pokey little rooms her entire remembered life - now included - it was another matter.
"This is... This is a palace, and you... you sell devices and things?" She felt she was getting the short end of the stick all of a sudden. Her job was dangerous. The worst he could look forward to was an irate customer. She set to cooking, setting water boiling, getting eggs from the fridge, and blending up some cranberries. At the same time, a green glow cradling the eggs and the pot of water as she worked, the objects she wasn't directly handling actually floating through the air in little green clouds. Milk floated from the fridge, a bowl from the cabinets. A couple eggs simply split over the bowl as if they'd been cut, and a bit of milk floated from inside the bottle to combine with them. Some water floated from the sink - she actually seemed to glare at it, until it dropped into the blender she was using. Some sugar from the cupboard shared the same fate, and she set it going again.
All of this more or less was happening because she wasn't used to not doing it at this point. She fried the eggs with no cooking oil, all without taking her hands away from making the cranberry juice. It all came together on a plate in seconds - a plate of eggs on a couple pieces of bread, a big glass of orange juice, and she was already pouring oats and raisins into the boiling water.
But he'd asked her a question. She smiled at him over her shoulder "I'm a spaaaaaaai" she said, and winked at him cheerily, seeming to bounce as if to a beat in her head as she worked. Eggs and milk danced a bit as they made their way into the fridge again. She loved cooking - it always cheered her up. With the oatmeal being stirred by an animated spoon, she moved before him, blowing an errant strand of hair from her face, which went straight up and obediently folded behind her ear again as if tucked. Right about then she realized she was doing these things, and and glanced back at the spoon. "Um... Kinda. I'm... not really a spy, like... hurting people and stealing information or stuff like that... I help people, apprehend people who abuse their powers to hurt people, and find people with psychic powers so they can be taught to control them and stuff." she said, frankly, the gleam of happiness and conviction in her eyes. "Its... It doesn't really pay, but... but its what I do." she finished, and watched his expression, hope naked in her eyes - god... god she hoped he wouldn't think she was a freak.
It may have been rude of him, but Gokan really couldn't help but laugh a little bit when Ophelia referred to the house as a palace. Of course, it wasn't some rundown shack in the worst neighborhood in the city but instead a fairly modest, two story, four bedroom home in a fairly average middle class neighborhood that he and his living companions managed to get an incredible deal on for rent. He never really thought of it as more than that.
The home his adoptive parents lived in was bigger, too, but even then he didn't consider that house to be a palace, either.
Of course, Gokan wasn't always this fortunate and spent more than enough time in homeless shelters and refugee camps before lucking out and ending up at his old monastery. None of those rooms were anything great, and yes, the home was a palace in comparison to those accommodations. Hell, a garbage dumpster would be better than a lot of places he holed up in growing up, but that was beside the point. "I live here with my sister and a friend of mine," he replied, his thoughts trailing to wonder as he predicted how long it'd take for the others to burst out of their rooms once they started to catch the aroma of something to eat.
Speaking of cooking, Gokan turned his attention back to Ophelia as she cooked with harmless curiosity, more eager to figure out just what she had planned rather than being intent on being a creep and gawking at her the entire time. And out of the corner of his eye, the Saiyan caught a faint green glow. He assumed that his mind was playing a trick on him initially, or that something was refracting light somewhere in the kitchen. You know, two common, logical explanations for a random source of light, yet there was none. Even crazier, the glow started to become a bit more common in the kitchen than he initially expected.
First, the green shroud of energy engulfed the eggs, then the fridge opened and the milk started to float out, amongst several other, generally inexplicable things? The surprise of witnessing these events caused a delay in him that prevented him from reaching the obvious conclusion that Ophelia was the source of the apparent telekinetic phenomenon until several seconds into the entire thing. Confused and curious, Gokan's face tensed and his eyes narrowed into a squint as he, for the first time in a long, long time, attempted to focus and isolate a person's natural energy--Ophelia's ki--in order to confirm his hypothesis.
Supernatural abilities weren't new to Gokan considering that he too was capable of many extraordinary feats, but everything he'd performed and witnessed involved the manipulation of one's own ki. And though he was really, really rusty, with enough focus, he was capable of picking up on spikes of said ki when someone started to perform certain feats. But strangely enough, he couldn't tell that anything was really all that different from Ophelia in comparison to the average person. Either she was really good at hiding herself, or maybe she didn't use ki?
He had no idea and was thoroughly confused.
He was even more confused when she told him her profession: she was a spy. A SPY.
Holy shit, Gokan did it again! Mental facepalm. First it was that pop singer turned senator chick, now a spy. He was damn near certain now that another SWAT raid was in his future.
"Hrhrm, something smells go--Holy shit, the milk is floating in the air!"
And then Gokan's train of thought was broken by the sudden and eventually expected arrival of his sister Aimee.
Ophelia smiled at the girl and nodded "Yep! I'm making some oatmeal, but I'd be happy to make you anything you'd like." she said to the girl, tearing her eyes away from Gokan a moment while behind her the wooden spoon clacked itself off into the pot, clearing the excess delicious rasiny goop into the rest of the bubbling stuff, and the heat turned down. She offered a respectful bow to the girl, hands folded in her lap while this went on.
"Hello, miss. My name is Ophelia." she said respectfully. "I'm... an acquaintance of Gokan's!" she said, one corner of her mouth quirking into a sort of smile that was modulated with a bit of meaning for the other female in the room: 'he tooooootally didn't bring me home from the club last night. Cough.' She seemed to realize again that she was levitating the milk, and blushed a bit. "Um, don't mind that... n-nothing to worry about, just um..." she rubbed the back of her head and if this were an anime, a sweatdrop would have formed behind her head. "Just a bit of telekinesis!" she said, and struggled to not think about what she was doing. It was like a tight rope walker - if she thought about it too much, she'd muss it up. The spoon trembled a little, but she got a couple bowls from the cupboards, filling them by hand with the spoon - anything to tear her eyes from the pair for a moment, give them a chance to get used to the idea. Stupid stupid stupid... why didn't she just do all this by hand? She could have gone into this more gently. Or, like, not mentioned it. But it was like not thinking about a pink rhinoceros!
"Acquaintance, huh?" Aimee immediately responded before she casually dropped her hands down to her hips and glared at Gokan. It only lasted three seconds, but it may as well have been an eternity to him, not to mention the momentary awkward silence before she shifted her attention over to Ophelia and back to her brother. "Gokan, you're such a whore."
"Wha-wha-hey!!" he exclaimed in a flabbergasted manner, nearly tipping himself over and out of his chair at the same time. Last thing he needed was his sister coming in here and ruining his chances further. It was bad enough that he had the nagging feeling in the back of his skull about another government raid! He couldn't afford to piss off the neighbors and be labeled as the nuisance and distraction. That's mean he'd have to hand out even more beer to them when he has parties just to keep them quiet! Or worse; he might have to invite them over!
"Don't even start! You know damn well that you met her at the club." There was really no point in him trying to cover it up since she and their roommate Randall knew where he went last night. "And there better not be any SWAT teams this time, either!"
"Dammit Aimee! That was one time!"
"Anyway..." Her words trailed as she focused back on the impromptu chef and gave her a courteous smile. "As I'm sure you've figured out by now after Gokan crying like a bitch, my name is Aimee; Gokan's sister." She then proceeded to move into the kitchen and hopped up on to the counter, away from her adopted sibling and out of the way of Ophelia so she could continue to have room to make her meal. "Oh, and sorry about my reaction earlier. Usually, when things start floating around me, it's because Gokan is flexing and glowing blue." She glanced over at the Saiyan, immediately read his face, and then chuckled. "Or have you not told her that you glow when you flex and scream really loud like a moron?"
Gokan face palmed and laughed a bit himself, mostly out of awkwardness. "Uh, I was going to get there eventually. Haha."
Ophelia looked between the siblings like a tennis match. She could indeed see the similarities in their appearance now that they had been pointed out to her, and blinked, smiling in a semiconcussed sort of way at the banter. But Aimee's smile drew the Oracle back to reality once more and snapped her out of her stupor. She mentally shook herself and nodded, and set to work again. She didn't face what she was doing, but things began to whizz around the kitchen again, moving better now that she wasn't actively thinking about NOT using her powers. The faintest, gentlest green aura surrounded her head and swam in her eyes, focusing maybe a bit on her well fitting hairband.
"Nice to meet you, miss. I can sort of see the resemblance. And... And there probably won't be any SWAT teams or anything coming to storm your house... I mean... gosh, I hope not!" She blushed "We'd really have had to have had a wild night!" she said, a smile in her voice as she pushed up her glasses with one finger, light gleaming across them a moment in a pointlessly sinister GLINT. She blinked, and took them off, blinking at them shortsightedly. It was the work of a moment to clean them and put them back on her nose. Stupid anime glints.
A bowl of oatmeal and raisins, seasoned with ginger and cinnamon, some french toast, and a cup of cranberry juice floated into her hands, and she set them within the girl's grasp. The fridge opened a couple times, then the freezer as she looked for other things. Some lettuce, some shrimp, and an egg were put into the blender, and a few spices, a bit of water, a little of the cranberry juice, and a brownish liquid in a glass floated to her hand. She smelled the by now quite familiar drink, and sipped at it. She had certain new requirements - she was quite used to it. It didn't smell good - sort of chemical, but she sipped deeply, and shivered, eyes shut a moment.
Post by Gokan Bushino on Dec 21, 2014 10:12:14 GMT
"Everyone always says we look alike!"
"Trust me, I don't see it either. I'm actually attractive!"
Yes, Gokan's sister ripped the meat cleaver from the countertop knife holder and hurled it at him. Normal people would probably be confused and frightened over the fact that she apparently snapped and attempted to murder family as casually as she did, but it was something she tended to do around Gokan. He'd say something and she'd grab whatever was closest and heftiest and hurl it at his head. It just so happened that the closest thing to her that was actually light enough to throw and heavy enough to actually do some damage was a bigass kitchen knife. A sort of half-snort, half-laugh escaped from Gokan as he barely turned in the direction of the airborne blade and snapped it out of the air--he allowed the sharp end to collide into his palm before he gripped it--and placed it down on the counter and then shrugged.
Wasn't like Aimee didn't know the result. She always threw crap at Gokan simply because she fully understood that she couldn't hurt him if she tried.
"Jackass," She chimed.
"I hate you Gokan." Aimee then turned back toward her house guest, cocked her head to the right, and giggled a bit; she knew just how crazy everything probably looked. "As you can see, your glowy green thing doesn't bother me much. After Gokan, I'm used to weird because as you can see, he's damn near invulnerable! And actually, even though we do have some similarities, we're not actually related by blood."
"I was adopted," Gokan started, somewhat distracted by the strange smell that came from Ophelia's drink before he proceeded to start to eat his meal. "So fortunately, throwing knives at each others faces doesn't run in the family."
Fee had been mid-drink when the girl suddenly drew a kitchen knife and... hurled it at her brother! Ophelia squealed and screamed and snorted a generous measure of her beverage up her nose at the same time, the sound quite peculiar. The knife hurtled its way at Gokan's forehead, and she thought her heart would literally jump out of her breast and savage the girl a second later! But... he had it under control. How, she couldn't begin to fathom, but without using powers, without doing anything special at all, he just... raised his hand and quite casually caught the kitchen knife by the blade! "BOZHE MOI!" she squeaked!
Right at this point, the world went absolutely haywire. The pot full of oatmeal BLORPED hugely, spraying sticky goop all over the cupboards and stove, the sinks turned on, the icebox spat out a flow of ice, and with a POKPOKPOKPOKPOKPOK the remaining eggs in the package she'd been carrying simply exploded in the carton, which dropped like a rock from the air, clattering to the ground and spraying egg stuff on the ground over Ophelia's feet, and the cranberry juice still in the blender was thrown everywhere as the blender seemed to convulse on the countertop for a full second before Ophelia finally caught up with the situation, set down her drink calmly and planted both palms on the countertop, forcing herself to CALM DOWN DAMMIT. Everything stopped instantly. What was still floating was just set down on the nearest surface.
For her part, Ophelia looked more startled by the exploding food than anything else, discomfort of getting some of her drink up her nose. She took a shaky breath, and blushed. "Sorry about that..." she murmured, looking mildly ashamed. It happens - she would do best just to deal with it. She set to cleaning up the mess, water flowing from the faucet, a couple rags absorbing some before dancing back and forth over the mess she'd made, a broom floating from the cupboard. How she knew where these things were maybe had something to do with a subtle pulse coming from her, extremely difficult to see in the daylight.
You know, when you were dealing with a telekinetic that's not aware of the fact that someone involved in the conversation is pretty damn hard to injure, visibly or otherwise, you really shouldn't be too surprised that they're surprised and unleash a psychic shockwave on accident. Nor should you be surprised by the mess that would be left in the wake of said shockwave.
Doubly so when it was your damn fault for doing what you always did by throwing a knife at your brother.
Face twisted into a minor scowl, Gokan looked over at Aimee with a disapproving gaze, chastising her without vocalizing it with a "look what you did" expression. Not too surprising, the teen replied with one of her own, essentially replying "how the hell was I supposed to know?" without even opening her mouth. For what felt like an eternity for the two, they were locked into a dead stare, neither one of them flinching until Aimee let out a fairly mild sigh and slid off of the counter top to fetch some kitchen towels from a drawer.
"My fault," Aimee said to Ophelia before she joined in on cleaning the mess on the stove, "I'm just used to throwing crap at Gokan without a care in the world that I kinda...forgot that most people don't expect to see that."
By this time, Gokan was pretty much done with his food--Saiyan appetite plus his already fast eating habits did that job--and sought to get more, but his sister messed that all up. Plus, she was in the way of the stove, and he knew that if he went anywhere near her, he wouldn't be able to resist pointing out how she brought this on herself, and then he might get stabbed.
It wouldn't do anything, but a knife would be ruined in the process and kitchen sets were expensive!
"I take it you're not used to everyday people being able to catch knives," Gokan said matter-of-factly, "To be fair, I'm not used to psychic spies either!" Might as well inject some humor to remove the awkwardness out of the situation.
Fee blew her hair from her eyes again as the sister started to help her clean. Shiva nodded simple thanks and the two of them had her mess tidied away in under five minutes flat. There was even the better part of a pot of Oatmeal left over! Ophelia levitated the bowl over and filled it, then carried it back, setting it down for him.
"Well, to be fair I'm not *really* a spy." She said, picking up her chemical smelling glass of oozy stuff. She sipped it and winced. This really could have done with some sugar, but... She didn't need much sugar in her diet. It affected her too much, too sharply. So did too much salt.
She smiled and bore it with a smack of her lips, her mouth a tiny bit grey where she'd been drinking the stuff. "It's not like that - I'd be driving a sports car and having my shake while I daringly escape the badguys or something. I'm... Just a... How do you say...? 'Working stiff.'" She finished, and winked at him playfully, a grin quirking one corner of her mouth.
"But... No. I'm not used to that stuff... I mean, throwing knives? 'What madness is this?' Said the girl who can crush a can of soda with her brain!" And her eyes danced with good humor and a sunny smile.
Post by Gokan Bushino on Dec 24, 2014 11:07:44 GMT
"I dunno," Gokan started before he paused mid-sentence; his face twisting up in mild discomfort after he caught a whiff of what Ophelia had been drinking--dear God, why the hell would she willingly ingest whatever the hell she made (and when the hell did he buy something that could help produce something so dreadfully dreadful? That was surely a mistake [unless she was a wizard on top of being a telekinetic, but then he wondered why she didn't just magic clean everything if that were the case])--before his body somewhat adjusted to the strong odor. "You look like a spy to me." Not like Gokan knew what a spy looked like, anyway.
The most experience he'd had with anyone in that sort of field came from action movies and video games, and everyone knew that those things weren't the most accurate in their representations of, well, pretty much any and everything in existence. Either way, she had some power, and though he had little experience with psychics where he was from or on Eden itself, he'd assumed that anyone who operated under the guise of a telekinetic maybe-spy would've bumped into someone like him, someone who could manipulate their ki to harden their body.
And if not, how rare were they on Eden? That was something he never really thought about ever since his arrival even though the Hero Force were somewhat well known all over the world, not to mention the rumors he'd heard about Juins. But you know, when you don't encounter anything in your everyday life, you just kind of forget about it, even if the things you forgot about encompass yourself. But yeah, I can do things...."
Though there was extra food dumped on to his plate, Gokan removed himself from the counter and turned toward the connected living room and eyed the couch. He rolled his shoulders and did a few quick stretches before he lifted the couch up and into the air. First, with his left hand, then with his palm underneath one of the feet of the couch before he slowly eased down to three fingers.
He probably could've moved down to one finger, but considering that his muscles were still a little woozy due to his constant use of Compression and the fact that he hadn't done any sort of real training for years, he wasn't going test his diluted ability to balance objects any further. After about thirty seconds, he set the couch back down in its place. "I can do more, but the warmup period sucks ass. I'm outta shape, haha."
Fee blinked as he claimed she looked like a spy and looked as if he'd booped her nose, her head shaking a little. Look like a spy... He was almost certainly messing with her - almost certainly. The girl chuckled, and tipped her glass up again to her lips. Best to bite the bullet now, she fancied, so she took a couple hefty pulls. If she turned off her nose, it tasted like pineapple gummy bears and strawberry dish soap, but the shrimp in the mix gave it an especially nasty edge that she literally shivered and wretched a little to put down the pipe. But she had been drinking this stinking tonic for over a year now. She'd only thrown up the first couple times - she was a pro now.
She followed him into the living room, not at all sure what to expect. She nodded respectfully at his sister, though, as she stepped out of the room, trailing after him as the ghost of the tonic lingered in her mouth. At least the aftertaste was only sorta soapy. Look on the bright side, right? Whatever had danced in her head though, she hadn't expected anything like what she was about to see. Her eyes widened and she pushed up her glasses as the martial artist lifted the couch off the ground like it was a squirmy puppy, and, by a precarious hold, balanced and weighed it about. This was no small couch either - this was a substantial piece of furniture indeed! And here he was, just about juggling it.
Color her impressed. "So wait... You have powers? Not like, psychic powers, but -superpowers-?" She said weakly, staring owlishly!
Post by Gokan Bushino on Dec 24, 2014 11:55:50 GMT
She was surprised, that was surprising.
It was a conundrum that didn't make a lick of sense to Gokan in the slightest; how could she not have any sort of familiarity with anything of this nature when she had her own set of skills? Assuming that what she said was true and she was of the spy sort and wasn't just doing what she did on her own and actually had co-workers and acquaintances in the field as well. Didn't any of them exhibit anything other than lifting things with their mind? The Saiyan had to admit that he was curious about the situation even though the subject was something he hardly ever considered, content with living a pretty uneventful life, aside from the occasional showing off, like he did right now.
"I wouldn't say I have powers..." He said with a slight smile, his left hand running along the back of his head before it rested on the base of his neck, "I mean, not like you'd really expect. What I just did wasn't really--well, how do I explain it?"
"What he's trying to say," Aimee interrupted as she slid over after dipping some toast into Gokan's oatmeal and having her fill of it, "Is that...that's kind of natural strength for him." She could tell that Gokan wasn't really intent on blurting out 'oh, I'm an alien so I'm naturally stronger than everyone on the planet!' and since she was smarter than was--in her opinion at least--she could put what he wanted to say in words without announcing that he wasn't human. After all, this woman was a spy.
Then again, she was a spy and they'd probably revealed too much as it is. But Ophelia had a trustworthy, friendly vibe. And she was the first person Gokan'd met in seven years that wasn't exactly baseline either, so that commonality helped a little bit. "He doesn't really get super until he starts to glow." Aimee began to gesture toward Gokan, likely in effort to get him to show off the fact that he could glow, but he shrugged and laughed instead.
"Yeah, I'm not going to tempt fate and do that in the house. Besides, with my whole Compression thing...." Feeling as if he were about to get super-technical, Gokan chuckled again and turned back to Ophelia. "Long story short, I can use ki--dunno if you've heard of it or not--and it let's me do some fancy ass shit. Let's see if I can..." Gokan's body tensed up as he flexed and focused on his left arm. There was a faint tremble that emanated from his body as he forced his way through is Compressed state for a brief moment as his ki flared to life around his hand for about ten seconds before he started to wince and cut it off due to strain on his muscles. Just from that brief defiance of his own limiter, Gokan could tell that a cold shower and a nice massage would be in his future.
"Goddamn, that hurt! Sorry, had to cut it short. I cut myself off from myself and forcing my way through the blocks hurt like a bitch."