Ichimaru Gin is a fox-faced bastard (fox_face) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-05-07 00:28:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, gin ichimaru, motoko kusanagi |
Who: Motoko Kusanagi, Gin Ichimaru
What: Dropping in for random questioning and someone just dunnit want to give no answers! Eeesh!
When: After the run in with Khamul and probably before his phone convo with Ty Lee
Where: Gin's house in the OC
Rating: Low, not much that I'm aware of! It's pretty tame.
Status: Complete!
There was another stop that Motoko had been meaning to make. An old ‘friend’ of sorts. She wondered if he’d been keeping his nose clean - at least there was nothing she could conclusively link him to. Still, she dropped by Gin’s house unannounced, and knocked.
Gin had just flash stepped into his back garden, only a minute before. He had moved silently past his well-tended persimmon trees in through the back doors, leaving them open behind him so the air could move through the interior of his home. It was like watching a ghost moving through a mostly empty space, if not for the few household items that proved this place was inhabited.
The strange thing was that, although he might appear lazy, nothing was out of order in there. It was white walls, white sheets, and pale pine furnishings. Everything was clean lines with Japanese aesthetics, and nothing was out of order.
When there was a knock on the door, it echoed through the entire house. For a moment, Gin froze without a smile on his face, wondering who it might be. Perhaps Faye was stopping in, since she was one of the few people that knew where he lived. Better to check, though, in case it was trouble.
By the time he opened the door and peeked around it, the smile was back in place, but he’d ruffled his hair and ditched his outer robe, so it looked as though he has recently woken up..
"Whatever ya got ta sell? I ain't buyin'."
She flashed him her badge. She spoke in Japanese. "You don't remember me? Tokyo, about two years ago? I questioned you for about three hours? It was a wonderful date, Gin."
He still smiled, utterly undaunted. For a change, Gin's blue eyes eeked open a smidge as he leaned forward, his upper body craned around the doorway more, so he could get a closer look at that badge. He remembered her, because no one forgets a date like that. It didn’t rank among his faves, that was for sure.
"Yep, looks like it's the same badge ya had before. If ya came here for a confirmation? Then I guess ya got it." He made a show of yawning, stretching one arm up over his head. "I'm too tuckered out for another three hour date, unless it's got sex an' drinks involved. Then I might think it over."
“Play your cards right, I’ve got itches to scratch,” she replied, deadpanned. He was hot, she could admit that, but she found a lot of men and women hot. She just didn’t always act on it.
“I just have some short questions for you.”
He didn’t act on it a lot of the time either. Gin liked girls, that was true. And it wasn't like Motoko wasn't hot - because she WAS - but he hadn't had enough blunt force trauma to his skull to go sleeping with anyone who was in Interpol, when he was linked to the Yakuza. Some things just didn't mix!
That, and he liked a certain girl, but he also really missed Rangiku. More than he was willing to admit. Probably because - deep down - he still felt a monumental amount of guilt that he wasn’t ready to face.
"...that so. These the sorta questions that we can have fun with right here," he was saying in his typical laid back manner, "or do ya want in to ask 'em and tease me more?"
It wasn't like he had anything to hide in his house. In fact, he had nothing. It was probably really frustrating for those who broke in and snooped around.
“I’d like to come in out of the sun,” she replied, smiling at him. It helped to learn more about a person from how they lived.
"Ain't nothin' wrong with the sun. Means there's good gardening out here."
If she caught a glimpse of it through the plethora of windowed walls, his garden was already more than flourishing. After a brief moment's deliberation, Gin stood aside to let her in, waiting for her to enter before closing the door.
“Your garden is beautiful,” she allowed, giving him a smile. He was cooperating, which was about what she expected. She’d love to someday catch him.
"It's my pride an' joy. I like comin' back an' fussin' over it, after a hard day of accounting. Someone’s gotta crunch them numbers." He was a profoundly squirrely one and didn't show a pinch of concern over her being in his home, or questioning him at all. In fact, he walked into the kitchen at a leisurely pace, opening up the fridge and poking around. "You want somethin' to drink or eat while you're askin' me those quick questions? Cuz I'm kinda sorta famished."
“I’ll pass, but feel free, it’s your home after all.” Motoko waved a hand. “I’m the intruder here.” She wasn’t getting any information from his home that would be of use, she decided, and she wasn’t sure she’d get any information from him at all. But she had to try.
"Suit yourself I s'pose, lil' miss intruder." If Gin was asked, outright, if he'd give away any dirty little secrets, then he'd have to answer with a big fat NOPE. But she was welcome to try, anyway.
He emerged finally from his rummaging, with a bit of yesterday's leftover tamago and a pitcher of iced green tea, pouring himself some and leaning back against the counter, happily chewing away like a cheerful, puffy-cheeked chipmunk.
If she had questions, he was ready for her to ask 'em!
“How long have you been in the country?” She already knew, she was just trying to get a base-line on the truth-o-meter.
"Oh, since the end o' last summer or so," was Gin's all too casual response, which was pretty much his baseline for everything and anything. He was utterly conversational, even pausing between bites to blow a few fringes of silver hair out of his eyes. "How long've you been here?"
“A few weeks,” she replied, knowing a lie would be pointless. “What sort of accounting do you do?” She leaned back, crossing her legs. She was wearing skinny jeans and her shirt rode up on her belly.
"The borin' mundane type. Same as I did, before." He looked vastly amused, both by her trying to question him like that, and that he caught a glimpse of flesh. He wasn't complaining! "I spend a lotta time yawnin'. Next question?"
“Have you noticed anything unusual during your accounting procedures.” She sounded as bored as he probably looked. She didn’t expect to trap him into anything. “Unusual numbers, misplaced items...”
"Nope. Everything's in order, same as always." He happily popped another bit of tamago nigiri into his mouth and started chewing. Once he was done, he took a sip of green tea to cleanse his palate. Gin was cool as chilled cucumber. "I ain't no rat, so even if there were any of them so called inconsistencies, where there weren’t any? I wouldn't be tellin' no Interpol agent. That's for sure. I keep my accounts all confidential like."
One of his eyes squinted closed more than the other, for a second or two, in what must have been Gin's version of winking. Ichigo Kurosaki was right. He really was a fox faced bastard.
Fox faced bastard, Motoko thought, stroking her fingers down her belly. “Even if I offered you something in return?”
"...lemme think," he mused while watching her, even going so far as to tap one fingertip against his perpetually smirking lower lip. He drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out while saying, "Nooooooooooo~oooooooooope."
She rolled her eyes. “So you assure me that you’ve not been engaged in any illegal sort of activities, and that you’ve no knowledge of any activities, particularly relating to the Yakuza?”
"All the same, jus’ like it was in Tokyo. I don't know nothin' about no Yakuza an' I don't know nothin' about no illegal activities." For added emphasis, Gin made sure to finalize and reaffirm his statement with a doubled up, "Nope nope."
She sighed, and slid her card across the table. “If you do discover something, call me. There’ll be a substantial reward.”
Gin looked around like he was taking in his surroundings, which was a whole lot of square footage, plus landscaping outside. Then he shrugged and silently told himself that maybe it wouldn't hurt to tuck that card away for a rainy day. Maybe.
"I don't really need no reward. And I think ya know the way out, don'tcha?" He raised one hand, grinning and waving at the same time, as he cheerfully singsonged out, "Bye~bye!"
She got to her feet, and sauntered towards the exit, hips swaying. She waved her hand over her shoulder. This was a bust.