Summary:Keiko goes to try and see an counsellor and finds an Angel instead. How uncomfortable. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Jimmy Baxter dropped Logger J.
It's about mid morning on Wednesday at the offices of one Doctor Victor Yendez, a counseller that has been recommended by SHIELD. Keiko Kurita, an asiatic looking woman, with tattooes covering her arms and shoulder is loitering outside just by the door.
The office is open. She could absolutely go in but the look on her face says she's not sure.
People who pass by seem to give her a wide berth. It's not exactly clear why to the casual observer. She's small, lean and fit and the ravaging of her face tells a story of pain.
"You faced demons for seven years…" she's saying quietly to herself, the accent a mutts mix from South America "… you can do this …" And still, she hesitates.
Most give her a wide berth. Other clients seeing other counsellors at the practice; receptionists and others heading into work. People so often have their minds full of their own issues, their own goals. Even those that notice her take a step around the pain written on her face. She's come to the office; that's a good first step, right? Maybe she can do more tomorrow.
Then a voice breaks through. "Excuse me, miss. How can we help you?"
That's a tall, blond-haired man, offering her a welcoming look — not quite a smile. He's in a simple suit, with a silver cross hanging from a leather string around his neck.
Keiko is dressed … interestingly. Leather pants that sit just on her hips and a short t-shirt in a soft burnt orange colour, that seems to have modified. In the gap between the waist band and the hem of the shirt, a brand can be seen on her stomach, a squiggly writhing text outlining it and another script on the inside. On her back, a silvery tattoo of what seems to be a clawed bipedal creature can be seen.
At the voice, Keiko turns, her face set in mask of stoic indifference. Her eyes, a deep chocolate brown, are slitted like a cats. To the man, there's something about her that might make him itch.
"I'm here to make an appointment with Doctor Yendez." she says, her voice low but firm and unyielding as she starts to rub her arm like it's itching.
Jimmy tilts his head. Cat-slitted eyes? Well, that's fancy… but he's not going to draw attention to it, not when she's clearly uncomfortable in all sorts of ways to begin with. He winces when she says what she's here for. "Ah, I'm so sorry. Doctor Yendez had a family emergency come up this morning, and he's had to delay all his appointments for today. I thought I'd got in touch with everyone. Have you seen him before?" He gestures to the door. "Would you like to come inside? We could at least get you something to drink and hammer down a new appointment."
It's not just the eyes that Jimmy will notice, the tattooes on her arms are incredibly real. Or they would be if they didn't depict demonic and corrupted versions of animals. Like that Grey Wolf on her right arm that looks entirely like it stepped through the gates of hell.
"I have not." Keiko answers, nodding once and letting him guide her through the door. "I came to get appointment, da" It sounds weird the russian that spatters her speech, particularly with the latin accent she has. Did Jimmy just imagine it, the way her eyes seemed to change to yellow? Did he just imagine the wave of corrupted energy that seemed to flow from her?
She seems uncomfortable with the man, still rubbing her arm like it's itching. Entirely subconscious, it seems.
She takes a deep breath though and lets it "Keiko. Keiko Kurita."
"Ah." Jimmy knocks the top of his head, shaking it. "Here to /make/ an appointment, sorry. Been a busy morning." He gives her an apologetic smile.
Just inside the office is a small reception area: a desk, a few chairs. A tiny break room is visible off to the side, just big enough for the making of coffee or tea, and then the hall towards the counsellors' offices.
Though there's a receptionist, a woman with horn-rimmed glasses and a floral sweater, she's presently in the process of making tea. Jimmy steps behind the desk to tap at the computer. "Keiko. Lovely to meet you, Keiko. And…" He glances to the side. Yes, the receptionist's out of earshot. He looks more carefully at Keiko. "Are you alright? You seem uncomfortable here." He keeps his voice low and soft, more private than before.
"Yes. Make an appointment. I have a letter from SHIELD." Keiko answers, taking a letter from her back pocket and handing it to Jimmy. "They said he would see me."
If Jimmy reads the letter, it's a referral that recommends Psychological services for PTSD and 'realignment' with the rules of this reality and society plus a child psychologist versed in demonic behavior patterns for her child.
The question causes her emotions to spike. It's almost aggressive the way that they rise. Her eyes definitely go yellow for just a moment - making them more like a lizards than a cats. It's like she's detected a weakness and she's going to exploit it.
Then it settles.
It's a flat look he gets in answer, as she continues to rub her arms. "I have not been here in a long time."
He tenses when he sees that flash in her eyes, that malevolent shift in her demeanour, ready to take that displayed concern and empathy and exploit it… and then just as quickly brought down from that jostling storm. He takes the letter but doesn't read it himself; it's not for him. "I take it you've don't just mean Brooklyn, either." He looks back to the computer and tabs through a few times. "There… yes, there's an opening next Thursday. Would that suit you, Keiko?" His gaze dips to her rubbing, scratching hands. "Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable, physically?" He lifts a hand to his throat, fingers covering the cross.
The feeling Jimmy gets from Keiko is that of a predator. Tightly coiled. Tightly controlled. And when it's not spiking, her emotions are muted.
It's a cruel smile the peruvian offers in response to the question. Her canines are pointed and longish. When her eyes are yellow, that must look quite a sight.
"Thursday is fine." she says just as quietly, her eyes falling to the cross as his fingers cover it. Reaching out, she tries to move his fingers away to touch the symbol of faith drawing it back when the metal stings her bare fingers.
"You could leave…" is what she eventually says to the man. "… you have a presence…."
Jimmy shivers, just enough to be tangible, just like he would if someone were walking over his grave. Not everyone comes with automatic super-courage, the power to face down a predator like that without flinching — especially not when you can /feel/ the spring-coil tension ready to snap out into something so much more dangerous. Empathy is a double-edged sword.
He allows the nudge to his hand, but draws his upper body backwards when he feels that brush to his cross, and the way it makes her draw her hand back. "Been hearing that a lot lately," he says, his tone carrying a sheepish edge. "I'd thought this might have been bothering you. Would it help if I…?" He unties it and drops it into a pocket, out of sight now.
The black collar with silvery pink lines that wend through it that Keiko wears about her throat is different. To say she 'wears' it is a misnomer - it's melded to her skin. Maybe it's a body mod, the kids are all doing crazy things these days aren't they?
The lines had been faint when she came in now, as she gets control of her emotions, the lines start to glow faintly.
"Of course you have …" the peruvian answers "It's like a beacon." Now she's toying with him. He stood against her and didn't flinch. That's a challenge and in Limbo, challenges are bad news. Then he does that and the lines in the collar glow a little more. "It helps." But clearly not much. "Your name." Not a question, but a question none the less. Has she actually asked a question since she's been here?
Jimmy takes a deep breath. He may not face up to her completely without flinching, but he can steel himself, can make himself ready for such an encounter. No swords, no force of arms: just will on will, and making sure she sees he won't break.
The cross is in his pocket, but it's still present, still something that's actually here. And there's that strange, shining presence about him. He answers the question simply. "Jimmy." If she's coming back for her appointment later, there are plenty of others she can ask anyway. He closes his fist, resting it over his chest, where the cross would usually sit.
Keiko takes a very deep breath when Jimmy stands there. The silvery pink lines in the collar glowing even more. "Jimmy." It's not 'thank you' but it's said with similar inflection. Her muted emotions should give a similar feeling. "Thursday. For Doctor Yendez." She prompts.
Whatever the danger it seems to have passed, though there's little that's changed about the womans demeanour.
"Tell me what time." No questions, no please, no thank yous. This woman is hard. So hard that good hit might shatter her.
She's hard like diamond. Yes, that's the sharpest non-exotic material known to man, but it's also brittle, not designed to take impacts head-on. Perhaps that's what she needs. Perhaps that shattering will help her to fall away from the mould built by her time away, and start her restructuring into something more suited for this world. Besides, even if the danger has passed, the questions haven't.
He breaks eye contact to check on the receptionist. Yes, her back's still turned; she's still busy with her tea. They have as much privacy as the reception area can allow.
As he looks back to Keiko, he /changes/. It's less like a transformation, and more like something tearing out from under his skin. Light switches on from inside him, shining in his skin, glowing from his face, /blazing/ from his eyes. That sense of presence becomes full and solid. There's a glimpse of wings behind his back—
And then he's back to normal. He writes the date and time (11 o'clock) down on one of Doctor Yendez's business cards and holds it out to her. "No, I'm not human, either. They don't know the details. But… there are a lot of us folk around in this city, aren't there?"
This isn't a place where matched power necessarily needs to become conflict, where dark forces constantly battle for supremacy. This is a city of team-ups and crossovers. There being others with their own strangeness — not the same, but similar — can instead mean that she's not alone.
Fall away from the mold or break her completely. That's what … those close to her are worried about. If she breaks, what will be left? A husk of a woman or something even more savage? But she's taken a step today. So there's that.
The light washing over her burns her. Not badly but it's more than a sting. Apart from the slight tensing of her jaw, there's no indication of that. In response to his wings, her eyes turn yellow again as blue glowing wings appear on her back - the texture looks leathery and they hang there. The symbology shouldn't be lost on him. If he's an angel, she is not.
And then they're gone. And it's just the two of them standing them.
Taking the card, Keiko glances at it. She can recognise the 11 o'clock and the phone number. "I was." human she means and that's all he gets as she leans forward and plucks a hair from his head.
"See you on Thursday."
Unless he says something she's out that door.
Jimmy winces at the clear way his light stings her. That's not how he'd meant it; he'd meant just to show her, but it's not a light that's easily controlled or dimmed. It's on, or it's not, and it's the simplest way of answering that lingering question of just what he is, why he feels so /strange/ to her.
He looks past her, sees those wings… but hers are gone as readily as his. She was human before, sure, but she certainly isn't n—
Ow. He frowns, stepping around the desk to catch up to her. "Wait." There's more than a hint of concern in his tone. "What are you casting?" He rather doubts she needs that hair to take it to a lab for some DNA tests. Sympathetic magic seems /much/ more likely.
Keiko is not human anymore. She doesn't know what she is. But then, Jimmy could probably tell that by the way her emotions feel to him. It may also explain why his light and his power make her uncomfortable. She hasn't said thank you, but then she's not been very polite throughout all of this, has she?
Holding the door open as he hurries to catch up, the look he gets is muted. "Cullen will need it to find you …" That's not really an answer and she's not inclined to say more as steps out the door.
When he looks out onto the busy street, she seems to have disappeared.