Chapter One: Paradigm Shift

[AberrantForm]

"Ah, dear Wen. She is special, but not unique. There are some mortals who become addicted to our bite. Most Kindred share a trait; once we have bitten into a mortal, their fear and pain are extinguished, replaced with a powerful ecstasy. Usually, the bitten mortal will not recall the moments before being bitten, particularly if certain powers are used to erase the memory. Yet some do remember, or remember the feeling if not the events. They may try to replicate that with drugs or sex, but after experiencing true pleasure, all the other pleasantries become mere substitutes. And so, they become a willing vessel for a Kindred to feed from. Indeed, this is one method of refreshing yourself. Many adept Kindred collect these types of mortals and keep them addicted. Herding them, you might say. It's not a bad way to get by. Be wary of having too many vessels if you can't protect or manage them all; a heavily addicted mortal who gets neglected may seek out other Kindred. Alot of things can go wrong there. Consider Wen a gift from me to you. I regret neglecting her at the end, despite doing it for her own safety."

 

"You guess correctly. Killing another Kindred by consuming all of their vitae. Forbidden by both the Accords and the Camarilla; though, for different reasons. The Accords only forbid it outside of Bushio. This will require a longer explanation later, but allow this to suffice for now: The various factions cannot freely fight one another, not even skirmish, without the permission of the High Court. If the Court decides that the conflict is valid, and no immediate compromise evident, then it will declare Bushio. Essentially, Sanctioned Strife. Within a declared Bushio kindred are allowed to consume one another. The Camarilla though, outright forbids it under any circumstances. Or so they say. But things are different here in Japan. In the rest of the world, the Camarilla is usually the big dog on the scene. Here though . . . here the Camarilla has had to . . . adapt. I'll say no more on that at the present. Instead, lets focus on you. What happened in the hotel . . . broke both set of rules. And so, from this point forward, it didn't happen. You understand, Kit? You must put it from your mind, entirely. We must alter the truth, for it will compromise your mind. Embrace the following, make it the new and only memory. Work it over and over in your mind, visualizing it. You don't have to nail it down right away but you should keep thinking it over as much as possible. Until it is easier to remember the lie than the truth. You arrived at the hotel and I ambushed you. When you awoke, I was gone as was all of my stuff. You found a note telling you to take the bloodbag from the fridge, and to wait for the changes to stop, before leaving. It said that others would come and find you soon. Friends of hers. And that they would keep you safe until I returned. The note said nothing else. At first, you didn't believe. You thought about leaving right away. But the change was already beginning. All you could think about was the hunger. Somehow, you knew what the bloodbag was for. Even when you took it into the bathroom, you weren't sure what to believe. Then the hunger overcame you and you drank it. You remember going through hell for a while after that. After the changes, you cleaned yourself up, then the bathroom. Then some girl showed up looking for me. Said she was my assistant, come to help me pack. She was surprised that I wasn't there. She thought you were sick and offered to escort you to your car. After doing so, you dropped her off at home. Since then, you've been trying to get on with your life and be careful. You were waiting for the aforementioned "friends" to make contact. I believe this version will suffice as a primary narrative. Of course, the different interrogators will ask for details. Make sure you are ready to answer them."

 

Rin wraps her arm through your elbow and begins to walk you to the pond edge again. The memory of the hotel, the balcony, her ice cold touch, the chill wind; they overlay the pond for a fleeting moment. After a few moments of silent walking, her arm still woven through yours, she begins. Rin thinks her words over carefully, speaking in reserved and measured tones. "The Camarilla is a Society of Kindred who strive towards their own view of what constitutes an ideal ordering of all the vampiric population. It regards liberty and equality as dispensable when weighed against tried-and-true tradition and perspectives of leaders whose age is measured in centuries. Within it's shell the Order has endured since the fifteenth century. It has suffered failings and it has achieved victories. Despite it's elitism and faults, it remains. It spans many regions across the world but it's territory certainly isn't continuous. Western Europe, The Northern Mediterranean and Eastern United States are where it's power is concentrated for the most part, though London and Vienna are lost. Russia, India and mainland Asia are almost entirely outside the Camarilla control, Tokyo being just such an exception. The Camarilla here is a cell of the Greater Society. It holds territories in two other cities of Tokyo. But it isn't the only society in Japan nor is it the eldest. Within the native Kindred Societies of Japan, the Camarilla doesn't even make the big five."

"I'll tell you more about the other Societies later. Just know that the true power in Japan is The High Court, a unified authority of the three biggest Kindred factions. Each very different, but all very powerful and influential. Lesser factions, such as the Camarilla, reside in the Lower Courts and are submissive to the Dusk Accords which is an oath to abide the laws of the High Court. The Camarilla in Tokyo abide by the Accords rules first and foremost. Any faction or society or group that doesn't is declared an enemy of The Accords, a crime that typically caries the death sentence. In conclusion of that; there is a hierarchy of new rules for you to learn in due time."

"Kaeyoni is name given to the Camarilla in the Lower Courts. It is a unique word, meaning Ivory Demons. This was the name used by the Camarilla's enemies during a supernatural war that took place years ago. I'll tell you more about that later, as well. Suffice to say, the name was well-earned. The power and skill of the Camarilla Kindred here is not to be understated. They proved themselves as faithful allies to the Accords in that war, and thus were granted Sanctioned Status and a seat in the Lower Court. In other words, the Tokyo Camarilla gained legitimacy."

"Your comparisons are apt, though I'll offer some finer points. The Prince commands all Kaeyoni Kindred in Tokyo. Beneath him is the Primogen Council. It is currently comprised of eight members, each representing their respective clan. The Prince himself serves as the Primogen for his own clan. Though all decisions and issues are discussed by the Primogen Council, the Prince has the final say. Adjacent to the Primogen Council, is the Prince's Sheriff. His right hand enforcer, investigator, interrogator, and if needed, executioner. The Sheriff doesn't have a seat ON the council, yet he often attends the meetings and his insight is occasionally requested. Beneath the Primogen are other positions of importance and function. All the rest of us fall below that, under one rank or another. You are at the bottom, naturally. A fledgeling, they will call you."

"Hunting is not killing. That is correct, for civilized kindred that is. Certainly within the Kaeyoni and under the Accords. Still, accidents happen, even to the eldest of us. Sometimes that Beast within simply will not be contained. Sometimes, a simple hunt gets complicated. Gets messy. The Societies understand this. A mistake here or there isn't a capitol crime. Under both set of rules, rule one is The Masquerade. The big lie. The grand illusion inflicted upon the mortals; That we do not exist. Letting mortals see you feed or display your powers, or otherwise neglecting to hide your nature from them, or telling them about our society. These will regarded as a betrayal of Kindred Society. You will only be forgiven of such transgressions a few times. One strike too many . . . . then Boone and his hounds come for you."

She stops the slow walk and releases your arm. "Let us leave this place. I've told you much of what I dare to at this stage. Any burning questions, feel welcome to ask. I'll say what I can. But now comes time for practical learning, and we will need somewhere more secluded. Urban Trails will suffice."
 

[Cirlot]

---

Kit Lee-Shen Wei - Konoru Shrine [Night 1 12.23.18]

---

"'Ivory Demons' - hells . . . "  Kit tried to internalize the landscape Rita painted for him, the shades of political terrain and the bright-black lines of demarcation; the boundaries he could - or dare not transgress.  And already had.

"An outcast among outcasts, a gaijin's gaijin; I would compliment your sense of humor, Rin, if you hadn't made it my job to avoid becoming a punchline."  He shakes his head, the barest rueful motion as they circumambulate the pond.

"Sounds fractious enough that there may be room to maneuver.  Or be maneuvered.  Makes my dancing with Kyoko seem almost quaint in comparison.  Which - " he frowns, thinks, sighs.  " - not for tonight but I imagine each faction has their own stalking horses in the  real - " Kit's free hand gestures with the bottle, a slow sweeping circle to the Tokyo nigh even as he corrects himself.  " - human world?  Companies, gangs, etc?" he paused at that, another thought striking and he shoots Rin a sidelong glance.

"Like your galleries.  Shit." that almost brings him up short.  "Unless you set up contingencies your holdings are probably done for.  Can't see me stepping in as viable - makes this all look premeditated - and them floundering as though you fled sells the story.  Still - " he winces.  He wants to apologize, to make amends for killing her even as she walked with him, talked with him, in all politeness about how she had killed him.  " - unfortunate.  I imagine they were important to you."

"But the story will be easy enough.  It's mostly true.  And I never - " saw what happened to you.  What was left of you.  " - don't know what I don't know.  Didn't know what you were, I am or we are."

Then they stop short and she speaks of training and Kit blinks once.  Then twice.

"The park."  He manages not to drawl the words out in disbelief, instead quirking an eyebrow and shaking his head.   "Are you going to have me stalk errant OL's and vagrants like a Jinmenken?"  Extending his arm for her to take once more in some echo of chivalry, he nodded towards the exit to the shrine.

"It's all the way across Ikkeburro and both you and Wen seem to think I should be mindful of the dawn.  So, car, then park. Acceptable?"

[AberrantForm]

She takes your arm once again, "Car."

Walking together through the Shrine and to your car, she says "In truth, every kindred is an outcast in one form or another. But yes; you are more estranged than the typical fledgling. Some have it worse, for different reasons. And it is very fractious. From the smallest coterie to the top echelons of the Sects; we Kindred seem almost compelled toward strife over either ideology or control . . ." she bites her lip, thinking, "How much do I dare to tell? Yet I do think you should have a general understanding. On the global scale, it is best represented by the most powerful modern kindred societies; The Camarilla, The Sabbat, and the Anarchs. There are a few other power players that stick to the shadowy sidelines. Organizations on that scale are oft referred to as The Sects. Each Sect has a different idea of how things are and what they should be. The Camarilla want's to preserve The Masquerade forever through direct or proxy control of all kindred, with the eldest reigning from on high. It can be very restrictive, yet many believe strongly in it's proof of stability. Politicking, ambition and social maneuvering afflict the Camarilla just like the other Sects; yet the courts of the Camarilla embrace these as virtues to be honed in a crucible of secrets and lies and favors and debts. The Sabbat believe . . . well . . . they believe in a lot of things. Maybe, some of their beliefs have merit. There was an incident in India that . . . nevermind. To understand their perspective will require a lecture. For now; They wish to usurp the current collective order. But in doing so disrupt the relative peace between mortals and kindred. Some members are more or less bloodthirsty than others, but on the whole, the Sect has really been making a damned mess wherever they go. Drawing alot of attention to us all. Exposing us. Not that most of them care. If all the Sabbat's goals are achieved kindred worldwide will take their "rightful" place above the mortals, openly. To achieve this the Sabbat are willing to wage war blatantly on the other Sects and anyone who stands in their way. The Anarchs are kindred who split off from the Camarilla mostly, though many have come from other Sects, or no Sect at all. They believe that each Kindred should be free to rule their own territory without interference from others. Liberty and autonomy, even at the cost of stability and secrecy. Some of them are damned fools; hardly any better behaved than a sabbat dreg. But many are pretty sensible and agree that some common-sense rules are advisable, even if they shouldn't be enforceable. Between the three, The Camarilla and the Anarchs have achieved a certain level of cooperation, though it hasn't been perfect. Meanwhile, the Sabbat wages war against them both. So cracks between the Sects, then cracks within the Sects, and crack after crack all the way down."

A rushing river of bright red crashes across the landscape. Then it splits, becoming two rivers. They split in turn, then those again, and those after. Until before you, the land is overcome with a fractal webbing of red. And still the rivers pour forth, splitting. As you reach your car, you unlock it and hop in. She is already waiting in the passenger seat. You start it up and she says to you, "Find somewhere to park near the north end of the Ikebukuro section of Urban Trails." You think it over. You can always find a out of the way spot, but risk getting a parking ticket, towed, or vandalized. As far as safe parking in that area two locations come to your mind; Sun Court Baki and Outmou Factory. Mr. Cheng always takes your calls and will let the parking security know that you are coming. And you know the nightshift parking security at Outmou are rather lax and tend to just leave warning notes on violators' windshields. You pull away from Taro's Shrine and head north-west, thinking over the options.

"And yes, particularly in the Camarilla, we do tend to have holdings and pawns within the mortal structure. Some of us use business, others use media, some use religion, others use criminals. Some kindred utilize none of these, preferring to "live off the land" as it were. The major Sects tend to have their collective fingers in any if not all of these. Some of us are CEOs. Chairmen. Politicians. Celebrities. Crime Lords. You would be surprised where you might find us. Some don't fill a role, but instead contribute by being soldiers, guards, collectors and spies for their Prince, Sire, Primogen, or an Elder. We have been emperors, vagabonds and everything in between. Though the Kaeyoni has only been in Tokyo in modern history, there have been native kindred here since at least the Asuka Period. We'll save that history lesson for another time."

She lets out a slight sigh of exasperation, "Like my galleries. I hate what will become of my legacy. I did set up some contingencies which will start to take effect soon. But on the whole; It's lost. I'd have preferred, and intended to, share in my success with you. Unfortunately, your inheritance has to be left to the crows. One day, we may be able to take a trip across the Pacific and recover some of what my contingencies may preserve. But not until everything has smoothed out here, and certainly not without some backup. We will see."

Soon you are passing by Butsudaji Temple. It's elegance is a refreshing contrast to the surrounding office buildings and residences.

"The park is ideal for our purposes. I've used it many times. A Jinmenken is a fantasy; we are not. And you may not be the only thing hunting the Park tonight. So keep that in mind and do not treat this excursion lightly. Though you are stronger and deadlier than before; you are a more appealing target all the more for that. And you never know what you may encounter during the nights now."

She is silent for a time, watching the neon signs and people pass by. It doesn't evade your attention that she has yet again neglected to address the matter of "what happened to her body."

 

[Cirlot]

---

Kit Lee-Shen Wei - Outmou Factory Parking [Night 1 12.23.18]

---

Taking Rin's arm, Kit almost enjoys the walk to the car - the banal domesticity of it is almost comforting in the face of the recent upheavals.  It's a memory of touch that once burned him like a frozen brand and now was simply . . . reassuring.

Almost.

Part of him wondered what he looked like, talking to a phantom.  He knew - knew, deep as bones, sure as blood - that the phantom of her sang to him and him alone, inside his mind, from the vein.  But to those outside the bounded confines of his skull, what would they see?  A lunatic walking arm in arm with naught but night, bottle dragging in hand?  Was his arm even raised at all?  The rustle of fabric, the press of dead flesh to dead flesh all imagined; instead did he lope lean and alone and hungry along the blacktop rivers?

And part of him listened.  And worried.

***

"Apex predators."  Kit teased out the thought in one of Rin's pauses.

"Compelled towards strife, I think you said?  It's scarcity - it takes a mountain to feed a leopard, a village to feed a king.  Or a neighborhood to support an oyabun.  Predators can only live off of what others make, or are; so they need a stable population to survive.  Competition doesn't exactly make people play nice, hells - "  Kit frowned, popping the boot of the Galut and disentangling himself from Rin to lean inside and deposit the bottle.  Getting caught with an open container in the drivers compartment was a dumb mistake he wasn't going to make tonight, despite of all the others he was ramping up for.  " - yeah, no, that fits.  And means I'm in for the shit.  I was able to wedge myself into a crack when I came over - built my business and rep in a new territory; by the time the powers that be realized the chugokujin in Ikkeburo were here to stay I was already established.  And I suspect none of these clans of yours - Camarilla, Anarchs, whatever, give a rip about expats.  You sure as hell didn't need our money."  He look sup to find her gone from his side and instead separated by glass, already inside the threshold of the sedan.  He follows, going though the rituals.  Door, keys, ignition, belt . . .

"Gotta say tho, if this is your idea of keeping me in the dark - " the thought it lost when she issues instruction and he's three steps ahead, considering where best to bring the car in while maintaining a safe distance.  It was a coin flip, except it wasn't:  Sun Court Baki would see the car undisturbed thanks to Mr. Cheng but it came at the cost of a name.  His.  If it ever came down to a question, an interrogation - Kyoko's, Ripley's, whoever's - Mr. Cheng would remember that Kit had asked for that particular bit of deference that particular night.  The guards at the Outmou?  Car was a car was a car, and this car wasn't even his.  Not really.  Loan on a loan, with the paperwork buried two desk deep.  Traceable, surely, but only if you were looking, and even then it wasn't his voice in someone's memory, asking for a favor.  Just a suspicious circumstance, discrete and deniable.

***

It takes him the rest of the ride to catch what isn't said.  And it sits uneasily in his gut, roiling with what remained of the whiskey as he tries not to think, not to imagine what remains of her remains.  And it takes him longer, until the car glides into a parking spot and he kills the engine, for him to realize the why of what was.  He'd joked, about her unreserved sharing of information when they had both agreed not minutes before on the necessity of his ignorance.  Only now he realized that all the indecorous musings were in fact verbal slight of hand, baiting him with angles for him to shark and plan and scheme upon.  And to make him ignore why they were here.  Now.  In the park.

The engine dies leaving him with silence, his own revived pulse long having fading leaving the churning hunger and he doesn't look at her as he sits in it.  What he's about to do.  It should bother him more, and that lack strangely does?  It's not, he mused, that he was above it.  He'd hurt people before, intentionally.  Accidentally.  Premeditation in his harm was rare and when it did occur it was frequently deniable - the act was planned, the gain sought for but the fallout was somehow it's own separate thing.  

Nothing like this.

Unbuckling, Kit leaned back, craning his neck back until he was pressed against the headrest, eyes closed, contemplative, heaving a breath he did not need.

"Does it have to be like this?"  He opens his eyes, rolls his head just enough to look at Rin out of the corner of his eyes.

"Note Grrl, she talked about how you did it.  It was . . . seduction.  Power.  Game.  I can work with that.  I know that.  Gimme a damn bar and - " he trails off. Another airless sigh; surrender.

"What is it you want me to do?"

 

Edited May 9 by Cirlot (see edit history)

[AberrantForm]

She doesn't answer right away. Her own head slowly rests back, then tilts enough to meet your side-glance. Her expression is almost. . . amused? Or is that pity you see there?

The headlights of a passing truck shift the shadows between your faces. Her conflicted glance transmutes into the predator red and a fanged grin breaks those perfect lips. "Oh I've no doubts that you are gonna do well in THAT arena, handsome." Then she is gone. You glance left and see her outside sitting on the hood. One slim hand gestures for you to come.

After locking up, you join her as she slides down off the hood. The two of you exit the parking lot that wraps around Outmou, heading northwest. She directs you away from the larger street opting instead for an alley that dissects the two blocks between you and the park. After getting far enough into the alley to evade the glow of Tokyo she stops, staring ahead. Then she whispers, "Class begins now." She actually crouches, encouraging you to do the same. She gestures for you to observe the ally ahead.

"I've spoken of powers and gifts. They vary from kindred to kindred. Some we pretty much all have in common. The differences come from the clan. I don't think you should know too much about clans yet, but keep this in mind: clans have different powers. Generally speaking, the Sire passes down clan powers to the childe. The first one we are going to practice, we Kindred call Auspex. You've probably been feeling pulses of it. It is a power that lets you heighten your senses. Sight, Hearing, Smell, Taste, and Touch. You can sharpen them all or focus on specifically what is needed. Very useful. Developed far enough, it will allow you to sense the supernatural, utilize potent foresight, and even perceive into mind and thought . . . "

"I expect this power will come easy to you. Using it's base form doesn't burn up the blood like the Flush did. Ah yes, that reminds me . . ." she looks around, then gestures to a trashcan nearby. "You'll want to take care of that now, while you have cover and privacy. Still, keep the volume down".

You don't even have to try. As soon as you are over the smelly trashcan, as soon as you think it, the whisky is expelled from you. After composing yourself, you rejoin her vigil over the winding alley.

"Now . . . focus on that reservoir within, the same one you wrenched the Flush out of. Once you've got it firmly locked in your concentration, you want to begin expanding your focus. Include what you feel, physically. Listen to the city. What are you hearing? Look into the alley, where it gets dark. What do you see in that darkness? Inhale this chilly alley air. What do you smell there? While you think these over, always have the resevoir, that feeling of power within, always have it in focus too. Once you train your mind to feel all together, maintain it. The power should trigger at that point. Once you've gotten the hang of it you'll be able to flip it on and off instinctively. Show me what you can do."

 

Auspex InitiationFor the first time calling on the blood to trigger Auspex, please make a Self-control+Auspex check.

On success, Auspex is triggered normally for all five senses.

On failure, Auspex is triggered normally for all five senses, but the rush of sensory input is overwhelming, raw and disorientating as well. It takes you a minute to bring it all under control.

 

 

 

[Cirlot]

Out of Character

Rolling the dice first to tweak the post as needed: we've been using TN of 6 for the prior self control rolls?

Self Control •••• + Auspex •

EDIT: Dangit, botched the syntax. Grrrr.

Second Attempt

EDIT 2: . . . alright Weave, FINE. Use your freaking dice wizard instead of in-line rolls. Rist-rasta-frikken-dangnabit . . .

EDIT 3: and 2 Successes, the long way 'round 🙄

Kit's mouth tasted like . . .  booze.  A little bit of blood.  The lack of bile wasn't exactly an unpleasant surprise but it didn't do much to recoup the indignity of being head first in a trash can like some ass-backwards Oscar the grouch or a particularly unhappy Winnie the pooh.    It also didn't stop the booze from burning on the way back up and it was with several muttering curses at Taro, at whiskey and the whole damn business of drinking that Kit settled in beside his phantasmagoric sire.

"Hm.  Great.  Have me sharpen my senses when I just tasted 80 proof twice."  another shake of his head before he sighs at her warning look and shifts, half leaning parallel against the alley wall as he threw his attention down into the darkness.

"I've - " his eyes narrow and he can hear the irritated ~tch~ through Rins teeth as he speaks rather than sees.  Dropping his voice into a whisper he still needles her with his intended question.

"Ever since I woke up I've been . .  hearing shit.  Clocking heartbeats in the rooms next door, smelling - " he mirrors Rin's own intake of breath, shakes his head as he watches Sakura stroll beneath a flickering light and then cross the alleyway before vanishing into darkness, her path drawing his eye to . . . something.  Where she'd been the shadow stood suddenly brighter, thin as air, almost revealing what his blood knew was there his eyes were only now beginning to see.

 

Edited Monday at 07:23 AM by Cirlot (see edit history)

[Cirlot]

---

Kit Lee-Shen Wei - Urban Trail Park [Night 1 12.23.18]

---

There's an involuntary intake of breath - unneeded, unwanted by his dead lungs but he is still too quick, too newly gone to have lost the capacity of surprise - and Kit immediately regrets it.  The air roils with smells, fresh and forgotten, a history of perfume of sweet and urine and sewage and flowers and late night takeout and cigarettes and rain.  so help him, the air is so thick with it he could chew it and make a meal of the tastes coating his throat.

And beneath it all . . .

Following Seta's shadow his eyes leap the yards between the near dark and the far, to the cluster of hands and faces and necks craned around the cherry ember of a shared cigarette that burned bright as a torch in his sight and beneath it all . . .beneath it all. . . .

Copper.  Iron.  Salt.

Blood.

The voices, the laughter rippling like a stream beneath the breeze are accented and foreign.  The phone bleats something stilted and subtitled, some anime jingle from years ago downsized to a palm sized screen and made tiny through cheap speakers.  Shared smokes.  Cheap phone.  Late night.  Kit chuckles despite himself - he's a brisk walk from Ava's apartment and the reason it's a brisk walk is because she'd sought a place within a few blocks of Ikebukuro Linguistics Academy campus.   Students.  They were students.  Hell, possibly even some of Ava's friends though - the anime jingled reached a rising chorus to a titter of laughter and he shook his head.  Bit more otaku than her crew.  Night classes then.  Maybe on the same trajectory she had been - scratching at sustainability during the early evening hours, learning by late night and sleeping or shopping or sightseeing by day.  Some would make it and end up a part of the salaried everymen, surrendering these night hours and stolen moments for the stability of daylight.  Or they'd fall, sliding into the darker corners of the night - soap houses and hostess bars, or even further.  Or they'd vanish completely, running home or consumed by the city completely.

How long had he been a night creature, before she'd made him one?  And how many of those vanished hopes and foreign dreams had been consumed by those like his Sire?

Then the thought is lost as his focus wavers and it's not just the students, not just their phones, their heartbeats, or the heartbeat of the snoring man behind the dumpster, but it's all of it.  The whole night, the whole city pressing on his ears until individuation is lost in the droning noise; cicadas in winter.

***

The noise presses him to the alley walls, the bricks rough on his back through the cheap weave of the second hand clothes Wen had scrounged from . . somewhere.  Didn't matter.  He shut his eyes and and focused on each sensation individually, trying to separate the static of his senses into discrete inputs, starting with touch.  Threads of cotton dragged and hitched across his skin.  Sharp granules of brick pricking across his spine.  The cool of the air.  Damp, the faint slick of the days rain still wetting the air.  It took a will and he felt the churn of vitae in his veins as he summoned each feeling to mind and then quashed it, by some alchemy pf intention turning the visceral truth of a thing felt into the shadow of something merely known.

Was this how he was going to survive?  Cutting off, distancing parts of himself as the blood demanded?

Ignoring the thought he turned to his hearing.  This, this was harder.  There was too much, too much echoing between the alley and the street and the asphalt and . . . bowing his head, he focused not on what he was hearing but what he had heard.  Fixing his thoughts on that damn anime theme the students were cooing over -  some overdramatic pop rock nonsense - he divided the world into the sounds nearer than the song and those farther away.  Letting the distant ones lapse into the echoing hum of the city he picked a nearer sound and divided his world again. And then again.  Until he had dimmed the noise into the soft rush of a passing river.  But in it . . . he chased the notes again and was able to lift the song from the waves, like a gleaming peak on the water, before letting it fade back into the whole.

He did not know how long it had taken when he opened his eyes and looked at Rin.

"I'm assuming you brought me here for something more than a bunch of gaijin otaku and a derelict marinating in trash?"