Mar 18 19:41:31 105 PA

From Chronicles

The current game time is: Wed Mar 18 19:41:31 105 PA.

Kingsdale - Harry's Gym

Harry's Gym is, not surprisingly, owned by a retired athlete named Harry. 'Gym' in this case is actually a misnomer and 'Sports Facility' would be far more appropriate. Almost a whole block in size it features all sorts of different facilities for those who are interested in such things. They include a full size basket ball court and weight lifting room but the real showpieces of the facility are its huge pool and sparring rooms. Inside, the construction is extremely spartan with blue-painted cinder-block walls and old, faded red carpets on the floor. Near to the entrance there are seperate men and women's changing rooms with MDC-reinforced lockers. These rooms lead deeper into the facility and are kept very clean despite the large amount of people coming and going. Admission to Harry's is a surprisingly inexpensive twenty credits per month. On the other hand, there is no day pass.

Katsumi arrives from the plaza outside. Katsumi has arrived.

Ah, the gym! It had been far too long for Ordo Malleus, and his recent failures in the art of love have left him feeling both tainted and worn, a condition solved only here, where he can exert and push himself. Ordo, of course, has an almost natural affinity for being foppish, the ex-nobleman having just recently gained quite teh reputation for being a Dandy. Anyone of those who had mocked and rejected him these past few days would be surprised indeed! Ordo, plain faced and filled with more fluff than a cotton mill, is surprisingly well built. Trapped, as he were, in the sparring cages, moving through the motions with his vibro-blade and buckler shield. Vibro-blade deactivated, of course, so that he does not accidentally scar the walling should he fail to pull his motions as intended. And, despite the rather vivid excercises... Ordo is still wearing his thick clothing. Even his SCARF. And not sweating in the least....

Yes, the gym. A place to hide and to get of rid of the tenseness of the growing problems of the life. At least for Katsumi, the Asian stalker. She is just changed her clothed to a black short and a sleeveless green military t-shirt. If one is knowledgable of the logistic of the Coalition states military clothing, then he will know that it is one of the regular underwear of the Chi-Town's soldier, produced by criminals in the prison level of the pyramid. A resonable cheap way to solve the military needs and to integrate those political deviants (from the CS perspective) to the greater society. Well,Katsumi is there, glancing around, searching for a good place to practice. She need a work out. She want to be exhausted. So she walks on a bag, near to the practicing Ordo.

The Dandy, Ordo Malleus, finishes a rather flurishing manuever before returning his blade to basic start position. Really, the extra flicks and twists were completely unnecessary; In another person, it'd be showing off. But the Gentleman is fully versed in the secrets of his blade, the foppish additions to his routine useful in keeping opponents at bay. To those who do not know the sword, these flashy manuevers seem to be taken straight from the vids! For those who do? It causes underestimation, for beneath the glitter and the velvet glove lies a hand of steel. He finishes the manuever with a quick flick of his wrist to clear imagingary gore from the tip, and flips the sword up and over in a quick spin - sliding it back to sheathe with a single, deft motion. He is breathing hard, for he had been at it for a while - but, still, no sweat beads his body as he turns for his belongings. Just in time to watch a rather delightful looking oriental woman stroll past. Ordo cannot help but to follow that swaying posterior for a moment, before forcing his gaze aside. FOR SHAME, he rails against himself. He is a -gentleman-, of noble blood! Not some oggling street urchin. And yet, those garments she wears are every so familiar... terribly, TERRIFYINGLY familiar...

Katsumi, the frustrated Asian stalker begins her practice with the bag. She punches, kicks, round kicks and sometimes defends from an imaginery counter-attack. But soon there is nothing else, just raged attack, killing strikes to the poor bag - what changed it's shape of a human, at least in Katsumi's mind. The rage continues for long minutes, filling the nearbly space with the sounds of hit. She gasps heavily, staring at her enemy - her ex is there. The woman sweats down, wet spots appears in her shirt's neck. And then she strikes a finishing blow. The guts of the bag bleads out. That suprises her and forces her to calm down, watching what she has done, gasping for oxygene. It is just a bag.

Ordo has mostly finished what he came to do. He had centered himself - for the most part. If nothing else, the temptations that came with that abomination within were exorcised. If only for a little while. It would take a LOT longer for him to find his way into Caliopa's heart, perhaps, but in the end the effort will be worth it! Atticus, on his bum, and the lady Caliopa would be Ordo's for the taking. In an entirely gentlemanly way, of course! Of course. And there was always that strange Aimee... Ah! Too many ladies. Ordo finds himself surrounded by beauty, and has nothing to show for it but a heavy heart and a plain face. Even as he begins to slide his buckler back over his shoulder, however, the fop -hears-it. The cries and grunts of passion. Passion for a fight, or passion for other activities, they both can occasionally sound the same. Throwing a curtesy towel over his shoulder, despite still wearing his heavy winter 'casual' clothing and scarf, Ordo Malleus follows the sounds.. And comes upon the oriental madam once more. Not -beautiful- perhaps, but there is definatly something striking to her. When the bag erupts, Ordo finally speaks. "I believe, madam, it's dead." There is a slightly teasing tone to him.

Katsumi glances at the owner of the that teasing voice. It is an angry gaze, yet there is least a hint of confusion and shame mixed with that anger. "Yes, I guess so. And the what?" she challenges the man, rubbung her nose. And then she sniffs as she would find something unrecognizable in the air. Something sweet from the way of her sniffs. Katsumi smirks and closes to the man, offering him a hand to shake. A hand what killed that poor bag, a hand what her sweat is only started occupy, flowing down, following the order of Newton's physics. "Hello, my name is Katsumi." she says in her deep voice, settling her smoldering grey eyes on the man. Is there a passion of attraction there?

The dandy laughs quietly, but mostly to himself. Its obvious this eastern woman is disturbed. Or, at the very least, ANGRY. And, frankly, Ordo has had his fill of of angry females for the next few days. None the less, his aristocractic nature - even as an exiled aristocrat - will not allow him to simply walk away and risk being rude. Being elite, after all, demands -acting- the part. One must simply be better. Therefore, Ordo holds up his hands in supplication, speaking as he does so: "Forgive me, madam. I am being far too foward, and had not meant to interfer in your practice. However, if you require an extra bag, I still have a quarter hour left on.. my..." He pauses, that bemused smile becomming something of confusion and vague puzzlement as the woman sniffs a few times, then suddenly changes her tune completely. Taken aback - but isn't that what he was after all along?! Some token of affection from the fairer sex? Yes, of course, but not so terribly quickly! There is a procedure to follow. "I, ah.. oh." He clears his throat. "Ah. A pleasure, m'lady Katsumi. I am Ordo Malleus, your humble servant. Merely Ordo, if it pleases."

"Servant?" Katsumi's eyebrows quivers nervously. "Ordo..." she repeats, straightens her grab on the man's hand to give away her newly raised anger or just to show that she has strength. Her muscles tenseness returns, a clear, visible sign of her mind's status. And now she manages to study those familar clothes, still holding Ordo's hand, firmly. "Thank you for the offer, perhaps I accept it." she says as neutral as she can, keeping her intense grey eyes on the man. Those smoldering grey eyes of her, that paleness of skin are very familiar... Ordo could see those somewhere in his past. Identity checks, interrogations, or anything else related to the police of CS if he digs deep in his memory. But something not fit in the picture.

"In a metaphorical sense, madam. I am here to assist if you wish it, of course." Laughs the fop, glancing down towards his hand as this strange woman straightens her grip out. And then glances up towards the striking female, a single eyebrow popping up in curiosity - before, with a playful smile, this fine ladened dandy removes leverage gained by height with a simple, graceful half-step forward. Forearm to forearm, now, as if dancing with a single hand. He has been trained very, very well by his tutors.. None the less, the politeness never once leaves, tinted with that flavor of flirtacion. The plain faced, golden tongued ex-Merchant Prince meeting the grey gaze of this young lady perfectly, not at all cowed.. Until it finally clicks. The eyes. The paleness. He was intimately familiar with the security proceedings of that long ago place, including his escape there from. How did he manage to last this long? Secrets, my dear! Dark and terrible secrets! With a sudden start, Ordo will attempt to move aside and past, to slide his hand away. A manuever, while having its roots in the martial arts, is given Ordo's own foppish twist so that it simply becomes a bow. He has to get out. He has to get out NOW. "Again, I do apologize for the interruption. Certainly, it was never my intention to, ah ha, disturb you." SHE KNOWS

"You doesn't disturb me at all." The Asian woman states with that smirk on her face. She remains in her position, staring at the man. "I would gladly share my training with you. I am always searcing some valuable oponents and you seem to be good with knives, even that your technique is bit to ornate for my taste." she talks softly in her deep voice, almost hypnotic with that intense gaze. She steps a bit closer, letting no chance to Ordo to pass out from her aura of intimacy. She could be one of them, but something is not right. They are different, a bit. Some details doesn't fit. Strange and disturbing.

Ordo straightens up now, his smile remaining intact, but inside the mind is whirling. That thing.. that horrible, horrible -thing- behind his eyes. Oh, how he hates it. Oh, how he loathes it... and yet, at the same time, how he loves it. How he desires it, holds it close, protection and bane of his existance. Without it, he never would have made it through the Wildnerness as well as he did. There is a moment, a brief moment, where Ordo has this mental image of a running fight played through his mind. This woman, the stalker, this man, the prey. There are, therefore, two reasons he has not turned tail and began to run yet. First, and foremost, that you never, EVER run from a predator. You -walk-. Or, better yet, hold your ground until the predator passes, and try very, very hard not to get its attention. The second is the -intrigue- of it all. Why hasn't she attacked him yet?! It's confounding. Those subtle cues he had spent so many years learning to spot are there, but others are missing. All the right switches have been flipped, but no one's hitting the start button yet, so to speak. Calm, Ordo, calm. "Knives? Oh, I am fair enough, but my true flair has always been for fencing with swords. Ornate as my style is." A soft laugh, and a quick check over his shoulder. Any exits? ... None. Alas. Just a blank wall, which he soon finds himself pressed against. Mostly in an unconscious and constant slow progression away. The fact that 'Madam Katsumi' moves to remain close simply means Ordo has found himself against a wall, alas enough. "Perhaps, however, a session that does not expose m'lady to such risks? I am also, as it were, fair enough in my fisticuffs... " If we're going to play the game, Ordo thinks, we'll play it -his- way! Why hasn't she tried him yet?! Is it some stalker game??

Stalker? Perhaps. That smoldering grey eyes a sign of that as well as her pale skin. But a hair? The stalkers lack any body hair. It is a well known fact. Yet everything else fit, except, but only when the man could sense, that she has no sign of possessing psychic abilites at all. She is just a plain human being. The woman steps closer again. "There is no risk, it is just a friendly challenge Ordo-san." Katsumi says with some playfulness. "I don't like unnecessary violence. I promise I will not hurt you." she purrs in her deep voice, keeping that damn intense eyes on her prey. Is she talking about the challenge or something else? Anyway she is to close to run now, but in the other side she doesn't seem to aim any unfriendly or fast movements. Slowly and surely she moves. One of her arms slowly raises and reaches the wall, if she close enough, somewhere up in the man shoulder. She lies closer, almost if her aim is to kiss the man, but her move will be paused in close. Ordo could feel her hot breath out in his face, tickling his skin. At least it is not smelling of blood, just some menthol. Refreshing in a situation like this.

And there in lays the problem. The hair. It could be a wig, of course, but the only way to find out would be to yank on it. And that, frankly, is simply not something Ordo Malleus is prepared to do. On a first date. Fighting down the urge to try to climb the wall or, say, run down the hallway, the dandy simply tries to make his brief contact with the wall seem purposeful. As if he were relaxing, one arm across his chest, supporting the elbow of the other. Whose forefinger rests against his temple. In any other situation, Ordo - having been far too gone from the company of the fairer sex - would find this situation tantalizing. Its the hint of danger that keeps him from diving full bodied, however! "Well, as long as its friendly... " He begins, before the woman gets WAY too close for comfort. The purred voice causes all sorts of interesting reactions of a more primative type, hairs raising on arms and a slight twitch along a few tendons. And thenthis woman, this dangerous and terrifying and delicious woman leans -in-. Her breath on his face causes -further- reactions we won't even get into. Think, Ordo! Concentrate! With a sour thought causing his smile to droop just a little, Ordo reaches INSIDE. Deep inside, to the Abomination that waits in the darkness of his mind. And then he reaches THROUGH it, WITH it... but his concentration just seems to keep slipping, as he can't 'listen' to the woman. Can't get an edge. He's floundering, folks! "M-madam.."

The gym is being used, as usual, by many citizen at this time. But something is different in this afternoon. There is a small circle of a couple of people around one side, watching an interesting situation. There is a bag, with guts sliding out. There is a man pushed into the wall by a familiar woman. Yes, she is Katsumi in her training outfit. Her green sleeveless military t-shirt is soaked in her back by her sweat, near around the neck line. One arm reaches the wall, resting close to the man's shoulder, almost prisoning him. She lies close to him, perhaps a few inches distance, keeping her intense eyes on her prey. It seems a very romantic scenario with switched roles. The bystanders laugh and make some bet on the situation. Would she kiss him? Katsumi eyes narrows as she takes a deep breath. "I said it I will be careful. I don't want to hurt you." she purrs, closing her lips even more to the man's.

Desmond emerges from the male locker with a smooth, purpose to his stride. A long day, a long night and now he's free of his work obligations. And twitchy. Moving through the gym, he wends his way toward where the heavy-duty equipment is, primed to put it through the paces. Though he can't help but notice the disturbance. A glance and his interest is piqued. He pauses, then turns to see what has caused such a ripple in the state of the place. When he gets close enough to peer over the edge of the crowd, his frown manifests. Katsumi? And that man. HE starts to slowly cleave a path through the gathered folk, a firm little push here or there enough to see that he can slip through to the interior.

It's a frightening situation for Ordo to be in, all in all. Truly, the Dandy had come to the gym to simply relieve a little tension by working out his blade play. Maybe a little archery, later on, at the firing range, or even think about finally buying a good rifle for use when and if he needed to enter the Wilds once again. He was fully trained in such things. The youth, despite his fluff appearance, does appear to be solidly built - but none of that is doing any good, as he's managed to be imprisioned not by force by by -lips-. Only INCHES away. INCHES. So tempting, and so very, very dangerous. Ordo knows what the woman is, of course. At least, he thinks he knows. But maybe not?! He couldn't 'listen' to her. Really, REALLY listen, not just with his ears, but with the Abomination that waited behind his eyes. The only place in the world that felt -warm- to him was in his own head. Which explains why he's still in casual 'winter' garb, including a scarf, despite having just finished his own session. Danger, temptation. Danger, temptation. "I.. suppose, M-madam.. but.. " His golden tongue departed in the face of such feminine aggressiveness. In fact, the only thing that breaks the spell - is the sudden arrival of a Holy Mother of Terra Big Cat. Ordo glancing off to the side, and a gentle groan escaping him. "Ah, of course." He murmurs to himself. As if this day did not need MORE stress.

Katsumi bites her lower lip when Ordo's escapes from her gaze. She is too involved with her prey to be aware of the surrounding, even that the huge cat appeared. The one who is so importnat in her life. "Listen.." she starts to draw back the attention of her prey. She need that attention, she need the spell to be not broken. "Just relax. There is no need to fear from me." she glances down to the man lips. Ordo would almost feel her own lips moving at an inch or less from his. The warm menthol rebreath in his face. He could even feel that the skin touches his, that their lips reaches. Of course it could be only an illusion of mind.

"What goes on here?" Desmond's deep voice rolls forth suddenly as he slips through the last of the gathered, moving toward the two with a steady pace. He's in his own gym garb, light and nonrestrictive and has his gym bag in hand. Though he wears his customary frown, he doesn't seem aggressive at the moment. Concerned would be more apt. Though who is most prominent in his concern is a detail that's up for grabs, his focus on the both of them at this moment.

"I.. not .. proper..?" Lost in a methanol dream, the last of the Heroic Wannabe's reservations are slipped as the plain faced nobleman finds himself enraptued by grey eyes. Gray eyes, methanol, flesh, and teeth like blades. Drifting by, the youth finally moves his own lips that last fraction-of-an-inch, surrendering to the slightly taller, most definatly more aggressive woman. But what about the challenge?! The blades and knives?! Perhaps Ordo will reason with himself later for why he acted so horribly, terribly inappropriate. Especially in front of the Brute himself, though Desmond has little to talk about. Ordo saw you show emotion! True emotion, you big fluffy lummux! Lets all play the theme song now, shall we? Surrender.. o/~

The Asian woman closes her eyes as she recognizes the surrender of the young noble. He is hers, she knows, she feels. Lets play furter. But wait... that voice. Her own spell to be a predator brakes. Katsumi shivers, pulling back her lips from the man. The warm menthol dream disapperas. "Shoo!" she purrs to the man. "Run now. But we will meet again." her eyes on the man, exploring his reactions. The cage of her arm in the near of his shoulder has opened, giving the place to Ordo to escape.

The dream bubble pops, and Ordo visibly slumps as it does so. He wants it back..!

And then shakes himself, eyes wide as he quickly slithers out from beneath the woman. Wiping his lips and stumbling, still fog headed as he glances between both Desmond and Katsumi. And, at last, bites his lips and bows his head. "I.. Madam! I'm sorry, I didn't.. I don't know what came over me, I .. please. I must apologize, but I must.. I have to get home now." Yeah, he's gone. "I, just, ah. Fare well?" He offers lamely, and quickly slips into the changing room to gather his possessions, sparing Desmond only a brief and paniced look. He had faced down the cat, and hadn't broken his calm, but this compartively TINY eastern woman had completely broken his resolve - and with far crueler methods than violence. Stupid! Stupid! He had to get home. Get home, pack, and .. lock the door? How did those things work anyways? It's an entirely new experience for the young monster slayer, being the -prey-.

Katsumi watches the man retreat with excitement, keeping a track with those intense eyes of hers. The bystanders give out their displeasure, opinions and joy of the events, depending on their opinions. Some of them laughs, some of them just slips away. The Asian woman, the stalker, the hunter of lonely hearts, turns back to face with the feline who made her lonely, who captured her heart. And yes, there is a blush, shaking her head, glancing down. "There is nothing." she muses. "Nothing happened here."

Desmond inspects Katsumi quietly for a few moments, considering her words in the wake of what has occurred before him. His eyes flick to the sides, still noting some hangers on, perhaps hoping for a renewed show. "Come, please." A firm request from the big male as he extends a hand toward Katsumi. He doesn't seem done with it, but he won't badger her out on the open floor.

The order came, so she walks to the cat-man, keeping her eyes on the floor. "Hai." she says submissively, almost like a child who knows that she done something bad and that her parents know it. She rubs her nose nervously, folowing Desmond anywhere he wishes.

Desmond won't go too far. To a less occupied spot, away from the prying ears and searching eyes where he can question her quietly. A respectful gesture. Once in that little cubby, he pauses and turns to face her. "What was that all about, Katsumi?" The firmness of his tone softened some, his deep voice lowered to a more personal level.

"I... I don't really know..." The Asian woman tries to explan, sitting down somewhere. "I was just here, to give away my anger... I talked with Renos as you insisted... and... I just keep messing the things always." she babbles is a low, deep voice of hers. "It just happened. There is no reason. Just the flow of events." she glances up to Desmond, searching his eyes. There is some desire on those intense grey globes of hers, searching for a sign. To be sure that he feels something. As always

Desmond has his customary mask up, the usually neutral set of his expression, though there is concern as he listens to Kat quietly, giving her the fullness of his attention. "I see." He remains standing for now, though he sets his bag down and before he continues on lowly, "I can understand the seduction of anger. I myself fall to it from time to time. It is hard to deal with an emotion so unrestrained." He and Kat are in an out of the way spot. Not far removed, but quiet, where he can speak with her without involving the whole of the gym.