All of my addictions.

[Marek]

Yeah, sure. Big ka-boom and the whole regiment turns out to blow some hot kisses. Needless to say, he was irritated that his buddy, Jilyar, the very partner who couldn't keep his mouth shut, was taking a big one for the team. Now Marek was running for his chills and thrills down the main walk of some foreign sector of this god forsaken city planet. He had just blown off the warning his companion had offered - not an easy job he had said. Of course, he had shrugged and said that it had never been easy if he was the one pointing fingers and handing out suggestions. It had been a while since the last building fell on him and he just couldn't keep away from the explosives when they had been worked into the plan B.

Apparently, the authorities didn't appreciate the flashy show of fireworks and flaming debry as their local bank went up in smoke. He was the first guy they nabbed off the street. Perhaps it had been too much, stopping to admire his work before heading back and handing over the money he had collected. Over all, tonight was a bit out of routine - he was more lost and not wanting to be found than usual. Far from home and lost in the underworld, no less.

Growling slightly, the silver haired handy man rounded a couple of corners until his eyes were forced to focus on a bright neon sign. Tattoo parlor, no doubt. They were the ones with the huge signs that looked like scaubbled ink. Wait, it could have been a place where babes -

Nono. Definately a tattoo place. Grinning, he tucked his guns,
Cybrus and Eir, and traipsed across the street while previously mentioned hot-headed authorities ran right by him. He supposed they had only seen the bullets whizzing at their heads and this new, unarmed him came as quite the disguise.

Slipping into the shop, he locked the door behind him and glanced around. No costumers. No casualties. This made his life easier.

Brushing a hand back through his silver white hair, he stepped away from the windows before one of the little soldiers came back, realizing what morons he and his companions were. Some people just didn't have it.

"Hullloooo!" He called, his amber eyes flicking to the small bell on the counter. Oh what fun he'd have pressing it if hired help did not appear to appease him soon.

[Yukio Ogata]

Yukio heard the voice from the front of the shop. Deeper, probably a bounder come to get another tattoo on his pec, or bicep. Yukio looked up from the adaptation of his best freinds drawing that he was going to put on the other man's leg. He rolled back in his chair from around the black curtain that hid his little office from view. The man at the front was white haired--odd to see in the NIHONGO District--and he was big. Muscular, and Yukio got the idea he could have crushed the Japanese man's head without thinking if he took a mind to.

Yukio Ogata had been running this tattoo parlor for over two years now, and he had come so close to running it in the ground several times that he had almost closed it down. Recently however, with a new strip club opening up two blocks away, he was getting more business. Even though most of the patrons were huge, stupid bouncers, or tramps of women, or whorish men, it was still business. Yukio just hoped that he could keep the place going the way it was. He couldn't bear the thought of letting it drown.

"Alright, then, keep your clothes on," he said, tossing the drawing tablet and laser onto his desk and standing, stretching. He rounded the curtain, making his way to the front of the small shop, watching non-plussed as soldiers ran past. Common occurance these days. He tightened one of the half dozen belts hanging around his slim hips and leaned on the table looking the big man over. Damn, he was tall. "Hey, man." Yukio glanced up at his face. That hair. Yukio had seen people dye thier hair before but that was a shocking white color, such a stark contrast to the Asians roaming around him. He stood straight up, leaning on the table with the heal of his hand.

"Can I get you something? Piercing, tattoo, blowjob, we do it all."

[Marek]

That sounded nice, only, where were the hot chicks to do all the dirty work? He smirked slightly and stepped up to the counter, towering over the supposed tattoo artist. He was just going to hang out here to pass the time. But while at it, why didn't he get some ink done? He was hard pressed to get his skin marred, but the chicks seemed to dig power symbols, and he was all for what the babes wanted. Besides, it could be a little bit on the defiant side if he consider what his 'creator' might think. More tests to run that he wouldn't allow, more statistics to throw into his calculations, thus another wrench in his well plotted plan.

"Well, let's see. I'm bored and I've got plenty of cash on me. What say you we just go all out, mm?" He replied, stepping around the counter and walking into the nearest room with a table and clean tools he could find. The place seemed respectable enough. Nice and tidy. Lasers made for a whole new industry when it came to tattoos. Less pain, more accurate pictures, and no nasty germs to spread around like butter.

Ew.

"I've had this picture in my head for a while. You have a piece of paper? I can draw it for you..."

[Yukio Ogata]

Yukio followed him with his eyes, then with his body walking behind him to his own station. He listened as the man talked and nodded mutely grabbing his pad of paper from under his desk. He flicked the chair, indicating the man sit down and tossed the pad on his lap, giving him a pen as well. As the man sketched he grabbed his gloves and and laser glasses, that would guard his eyes from the laser. He slide them on, pulling the laser out by the handle and turning it on to heat it up a little. It buzzed like the antiques, Yukio thought mostly because it was comforting for tattoo artists to hear. He glanced at the man over the red tinted glasses.

"We charge by size, and color," he said simply. Then he nodded. "And body placement. Anywhere that's got more fat content is harder to tattoo. So your thigh would cost more than your shoulder blade," Yukio gave him and example as he spun about in the chair to dig out the laser benders that would change the shape of the laser for a different color. He checked them to make sure they were fully charged and tossed them onto the small table next to him and the chair. He glanced back over at the man, waiting for him to finish his drawing. He didn't know what creative skill such a man would have--he seemed much more into big guns, big boobs, and getting anything he could get in the bedroom. But he was a customer. A paying one. And the customer was always, always, right.

[Marek]

"The cost will not be a problem. I need it some place where the boss won't see it. My hip is probably best, but there is no telling with him. When he finds out, I can't wait to see the look on his face, though." He mumbled softly while sketching, his hand moving across the pad of paper with the pen as though he had done this a thousand times before. He couldn't recall drawing being one of his big hobbies, but it was certainly a possibility.

It didn't look too bad either.

"I keep seeing it. I'm sure you don't get a lot of costumers in here who like to draw their own designs, but I hate not being original." He added, tossing the pad of paper onto the table upon which mentioned costumers were supposed to lay.

"Where do you want me?"

[Yukio Ogata]

Yukio spun over to the table, fixing a glove and lifting his glases, pushing them onto his head, causing his black hair to spray around his face. He licked his lips looking over the design. It wasn't too bad, head be able to make a stencil pretty quick. Snatching the peice of paper off, he leaned back over his chair and pushed it into a small machine on his desk. It whirred for a moment before sliding out a stencil of the drawing. Yukio grabbed it, blowing off the plastic shavings and looking through it with one eye.

"'Kay...this shouldn't be too painful. I want you to take off your pants and turn the hip towards me. Whichever one you want it on, Bo," Yukio said, grabbing up a small can of light grey spray that would mark the design on the man's skin. He spun back around to his desk, picking up a peice of hard candy from a bowl and popping it into his mouth, pushing it to one cheek. He had to have something to work his mouth over when he did tattoos. Old habit. He glanced up at the man. "Color or no?"

[Marek]

"Wow. You're forward." He said, unable to keep his infamous grin at bay as he unbuckled his belt. Scowling as the chill sank into his muscular thighs when he slipped the leather material down his legs. He didn't bend down to pick them up and fold them neatly - firstly, it wasn't his thing and he didn't figure he'd be standing there very long.

His hand, wrapped in leather that made up his fingerless glove, ran across one hip, than the other, attempting to discern which it would be best on. There was a scar on one, marking that location of the doc's latest device. No, no. He'd check there for bruising and what not. He had to be careful about all this. Wouldn't want the search to end so quickly, especially when it came to his charming doctor.

"Right will do nicely. Wouldn't want the design in the way of.. things." He bit out, nudging said hip forward.

[Yukio Ogata]

"'Kay, Bo," Yukio said, flicking his glasses down onto his nose and pushing them up over his eyes. He picked up the laser then rolled forward in his chair until he sitting with his knees underneath the table. Reaching up with his left hand, he pulled the man's hip forward a little, then ran his hand down, feeling for the pelvic bone. Certainly didn't want to laser too close to that. Talk about getting in the way of things. Yukio felt the slight bulge and stopped, closing one eye, pressing down on it with two fingers to feel each side. He chewed his lip and nodded.

"'Kay..." he muttered. He put the stencil just below the man's pelvic bone, pushing down the black boxers just slightly to give him more room. He opted for farther from his groin than nearer, and sprayed the grey liquid lightly, blowing on it a moment before tossing the stencil over his shoulder to hear it land on his table. He sprawled his fingers out over the man's waist to hold him steady and leaned down so he could see the laser properly. He glanced at the man. "Here we go, dude," he said, turning his attention back to the hip and pressing the laser activator.

The laser buzzed out and onto the man's skin, a slight bit of smoke rising from a little skin getting burned by the initial contact. Yukio crunched down on the hard candy as he worked, glancing at the heating gauge every once in awhile to make sure he wasn't overheating the thing. The man's skin was tattooing nicely, the shape of the design perfect for a hip tattoo. Yukio clenched his jaw and swallowed before glancing breifly at the man again as he worked.

"You got a good eye for design, Bo," he said, lifting the laser from the man's skin and standing up to look down at his work so far. He ran his thumb roughly over the already tattoed skin and then sat down again, leaning back in and beginning work again. "If ya don't mind, I'd like to put the design up on our board," he said, nodding his head back slightly to the large place on the wall where hundreds of designs hung, all as different as the next. All were done by customers and Yukio liked hanging them up. It helped him with ideas for new tattoos.

"Ow," he said quickly as his thumb barely got knicked as he moved it too close to the laser on the handle. He'd done it so many times, there was callous there now. "Couple more minutes, Bo."

[Marek]

"I don't mind really." He replied, wincing every time the short pet name escaped the man's lips. He didn't like it very much, for some odd reason, and thus he felt compelled to tell him his name. But why would he owe that information to a mere tattoo artist? Some man he'd probably never see again.

"Um..." He started, barely noticing the slight pain as the man worked on burning the insignia into his flesh. It was a little bit awkward, having his pants off and all. And then, he was RIGHT there. He grinned slightly, almost wanting his place his hand on the tattooist's head to steady himself.

But that.. just wouldn't look right, either.

"My name is Marek. And you are...?" He said, introducing himself. Expecting the same. It was polite conversation that would get his mind off of the soldiers racing around in front of the store. No doubt, they'd come in soon. He'd hate to have to waste this guy if he couldn't play along.

[Yukio Ogata]

Yukio licked his lips leaning back, turning off the laser and grinning down at it. It looked awesome. The guy didn't know how this kind of a design made an art fanatic happy. It looked perfect exactly where it was. It was like the guy had dreamt it one night and seen how good it would look. He dropped the laser back into the holster next to the table and pushed the glasses back onto his head, the bright red highlights in his hair sticking out at all angles. He pulled his right glove off with his teeth and dropped it into his left hand. He reached out to run his bare fingers over the new tattoo. It would take a little longer to heal due to the closeness of the design, but it would look even better once it had.

Glancing back at the man--Marek--he nodded to him, spinning and grabbing a clear bandage from his collection of things in his care bax. When he turned back around, he saluted.

"Yukio Ogata, tattoo artist-in-residence," he said, then swept a hand around the shop. "Like there is anyone else here to choose from. Good to meet you, Marek," he said, accidentally rolling the R into an almost L. He had almost driven his accent away, but it was still hanging on, slipping into his speech now and then. He leaned over the man's hip and quickly adhered the bandage over the new tattoo, then pushed himself back, reaching down and grabbing the man's pants, tossing them onto his lap.

"Gonna look great, Marek," he said, standing and moving around the table to dispose of his gloves. He turned back around and leaned on his desk watching as the man pulled his clothes back on and into place. Yukio chewed lip a moment, unable to not notice how muscular the man was. What did this Marek do exactly? But that was none of Yukio's business. He shook his head and hopped the table, going to the front of the shop again, looking out the front window.

"Damn soldiers running away business," he said, trying to open the door, noticing it was locked. "Huh? I thought I..." but he shrugged and unlocked it, pushing the door open to lean out and look down the street to his neighbor shops. He called to someone on the street in Japanese, trying to get the story. When he had, he leaned back in, turning back to Marek, shaking a bit of hair out of his face and waling back over.

"Alright, then. Hate to kill the mood, but it's gonna set you back some credits," he said, biting his lip and putting a hand on his hip, looking up at the man. "It's me not you, we can still be friends," he said with a wink, turning around to crouch down and open a box under the table. "Fifty credits, Marek."

[Marek]

Yukio Ogata, tattoo artist-in-residence.

An Odarian name, fitting with his unique appearance and personality. Marek smiled and tested the name with his mind, whispering it there and allowing it to echo back. He would, no doubt, look more like the younger man had a building not fallen on him those weeks ago. Certain precedures could definately mold the flesh. He looked half Odarian, rather than the full blood that he was originally.

Things were beginning to heat up. No doubt they'd be on his trail soon since he decided to take a pit stop and brand himself. Technically, Yukio did the branding. It didn't sting one bit, he thought suddenly, gazing down at the insignia before pulling his pants on. He had just gotten the clasp done when the door at the front burst open and several officers stomped along inside.

A curse flew from his lips and he dove behind the black curtain that lead into the man's office. Hopefully, he'd handle this situation properly. He wasn't much in a killing mood, but dren happened, right?

"You'll get your bloody money.. just be a good boy and - "

Any of the usual, Ogata? I'd hate to have to shut your place down for good..

[Yukio Ogata]

Yukio stood straight up when more officers stormed through his door, the guy beside him disappearing so quickly, Yukio wasn't even sure if he had been standing there. The man glanced from the black curtain to the men in the doorway, waving thier weapons around his shop. Cursing heavily in his native tongue, he slid down the table to face the officers. They were looking for someone that was obvious, and judging by the guy's behavior, it was the charming stranger who had introduced himself as Marek. Putting on a convincing grin, Yukio leaned over the table.

"Can I help you officers?" he asked sweetly, glancing breifly over his shoulder at the bottom of the curtain. Just a small wisp of white hair could be seen at the bottom, he brushed his foot back to sweep it underneath. "I'm afraid we're gonna close in about an hour, so if you want a tattoo done, you'll have to be snappy about it."

[Marek]

Don't play with us, Ogata. We know he is in here or was. The door was locked when we tried before and you are being too frelling friendly to be up to any good.

Now this hadn't been what he wanted. If the damn kid had only kept the door locked. Oh well, dren happened and they'd just have to plow through it like any bad boy was meant to. The only problem was, his two guns were in the belt he had failed to apply to his pants in time. That meant no casualties for Marek and very perforated corpse for the authorities. The silvery haired man pouted from behind the black curtain, his eyes continuing to soak up the situation.

It seemed that the big bad boss of the operation had spotted the same thing Marek did. Laying on the front desk, out of its protective covering was a hand blaster ripe for the taking. He could see the greedy green eyes and chubby hands reaching out to select the item, ready to address its presence.

But, Marek got there first.

His fingers slipped around the gun with surprising grace, finding the trigger hole and canting the entire weapon back. The boss, as the silver haired man referred to him in his head, gasped at the sight of the fugitive at such close range, that very same bad boy blew a hole the size of baseball through the center of his palm.

That wouldn't be enough to ensure his escape however. Taking a step back, he wrapped his arm about Yukio's waist and slipped the weapon up to the side of his head.

"Stand aside."

[Yukio Ogata]

Yukio's spine stiffened against the other man's body as the cold barrel of a blaster pressed against his temple and an arm snaked around his wasit to hold him steady. Yukio bit unintentionally hard down on his tongue, tasting the tang of blood a second later as it seeped from the wound.

Stand aside.

The voice was cool and steady, and Yukio rolled his eyes, wondering how he always seemed to get into these situations. If it hadn't been chickens this week, it was feathers, and Marek seemd the last feather of the week for him. He shifted uncomfortably in the hard grip. He was scared, that was for sure, he hadn't been at the end of a blaster barrel for years, but he wasn't going to show it, obviously this guy was in a jam and if he shot Yukio, he shot him, there wasn't much he could do about it from this angle.

[Marek]

There was a long moment of silence, well, beside the music playing over the speakers Yukio had placed around the establishment to improve the mood. It was late and thus a weepy version of Dream a little dream was being played, sung in a gentle Odarian voice that calmed his frayed nerves. The mood, the setting, the characters that twisted the plot into something grand all seemed to fit into the little piece.

Kill the kid, create a distraction and head out the back. Kill everyone else, let the kid live and hope he comes along peacefully while you run like hell.

He was such a nice guy.

The blaster turned from Yukio Ogata's head and released several rounds, each seeking the hearts, heads, and other vital organs of his enemies. Something dark and maniacal stole over his eyes, his presence. They all fell, eventually, and again the music picked up. There was something wicked about his lingering joy, the smile on his face that he could not forfeit.

"Let's go..."

[Yukio Ogata]

Yukio shook his head, rubbing a hand over his forehead. No, this wasn't cool at all. Officers killed in his establishment with his gun. The fairytale ending to an already wonderful week. Yukio followed the big man mutely, jumping the bodies of the officers, groaning as he looked down at them. This was gorgeous. His co-workers were going to come in and God knows what they would think and spread, and they would probably call the cops on him and he would be an accomplice to this guy...this stranger.

"God, clean out the gutters while your at it, Marek," he muttered under his breath as he jumped over another body and pushed through and out the door behind the silvery haired man. He pushed the door closed, flipping the open sign to closed. It would at least keep regular people from wandering in. Wait a minute. Why was he going with this guy? This guy who still hadn't paid him for the tattoo. Although, Yukio wasn't really worried about that right now.

"Hey, what do you need me for? Why don't you let me clean up your mess here, so you don't get your brawny hide in more trouble?"

[Marek]

"He hates you, that guy that I blew a new pie hole, yeah? Don't you think this incident is enough reason to get rid of you? In case you hadn't noticed, their weapons were trained on me. The only thing stopping them was you, but that wont stop them anymore. I can't use you as a shield anymore and if you stay here, they'll kill you as they would me." He explained, disgusted that he allowed the boss to escape the scene. He'd have to make up for that later and now he was no doubt making lots of trouble for pretty boy.

"Stay here a second. I forgot something." He mumbled, heading back into the shop. Upon reaching the back room, he scooped up his black utility belt and fastened it around his waist. There, the twins rested in their holsters. He, somehow, felt whole again. Somewhere, in the farthest reaches of his mind, he wondered if Yukio had indeed followed orders and linger, or if he had turned tail and run.

He couldn't really blame him.

[Yukio Ogata]

Yeah, okay, this was enough action for Yukio. As soon as Marek was out of sight, the teenager ducked into a shop just next to his own, it was owned by an older lady who loved him like he was her own son, and when she saw him duck under the window so as not to be seen, she simply smiled, nodded and continued her work. She knew when to keep her nose out of Yukio's business, and that was a good thing.

Glancing up and out the window he stood and moved around to the back of the shop. He needed to take care of his shop, get those damn bodies out of there, call some people, figure out what the hell this Marek guy had done to get this many officers on his tail. He interested Yukio, and he was interested in what he had gotten into before he had gone into his Shibuya East Tattoo Parlor. Glancing back over his shoulder at the window, he leaned down and kissed the old woman on the cheek.

"Thanks, Granny. I'll come over and make dinner for you later..." he said quietly, moving to the door that led to an alley behind all the shops on the street.

[Marek]

The next day
______

Most definately one of the most interesting nights he had spent with the 'Doc'. They had gotten just a little drunk off of a special brew he had picked up off of a trader that passed through his district. Need less to say, he was still a little out of it and couldn't have walked a straight line had God asked him to. No merit in heaven. Typically an outcome for a rake such as himself.

Oddly, he found himself wandering the same district he had found that quaint little tattoo parlor in before coming home to his most welcoming butler. Nihongo. Something close to that. He swaggered and slurred his greetings, unintentionally shaking the bottle clutched in his hand at the passerbies.

Then, it happened. All hell and dren broke loose and he was certain this was it. He was going to go to prison at the prime of his life! No more wine, no more tattoos [which he had been thinking a lot on, probably just the something to do with the artist], no more bedtime stories from his butler!

FREEZE!

Marek let out a terrified scream and dropped the bottle, throwing his hands up in the air.

There he is! Get him!

Somewhat shocked, he watched Yukio run past him and, mildly intrigued, wondered where he was headed in such haste. Then the pigs went flashing past him. He considered giving chase as well, though his intentions were probably not what seemed to be crawling through the authority mongers' brains. Pasting on a merry grin, he tottered along behind.

[Yukio Ogata]

Yukio did not think his legs had ever flown so fast. He hadn't moved this quickly since he had raced his brother down a grimy slum alleyway when they had been younger. Much younger. But he was nineteen now, and all he did was sit and tattoo, and he may have only weighed 42 pounds wet, it didn't mean he was in shape.

His eyes caught the familiar sight of white hair as he flew past a drunk with a bottle in his hand, but he didn't take the time to stop and offer him a cup of coffee. He was trying to get away from the officers that had ambushed him that morning as he had finished cleaning out his shop. They yelled several charges at him, and even got out about two words of his rights before he had been out the back and gone. Bringing him here, tearing down the street, his heart beating so hard in his chest he was sure it was going to fly out and land on someone.

He locked his knees, skidding sideways and falling to the side slightly as he tried to take a corner too hard. But even as he flew down the alleyway, he could see the dead end. Idiot, he thought. Yukio you stupid moron! You knew this was a dead end... He skidded to a stop at the end jumping against the wall as if he were going to find a way over it. But he heard the echoes of the officers bouncing on the walls that rose up beside him and he knew his running had come to a stop.

He turned, leaning on the wall, gasping for the breath he had lost. He shook his head.

"Kusso..." he muttered to himself as he watched the officers gaining ground, waving thier weapons and yelling at him and each other. He held up his hands and breathed heavily, waiting for them to get thier and just capture him already. "'Kay, guys. You got me," he gasped between breaths. "Be gentle."

[Marek]

About a block past where he was supposed to turn, he began cursing the pigs for making him drop that bottle. And he was lost. This was entirely, completely, and so totally their fault. He'd have to take that up with them when he found his way again. Turning about, considering it the best course of action, considering as how he hadn't seen a living thing on the shady block, he met an alley way where people were talking loudly in that quiet kinda way. He shook his head.

"God! Get a room!" He growled at them. They turned to look at him and he noted his folly with a bit of amusement. But, he had found his way and that was all that mattered. Grinning from ear to ear, he stumbled down the long, dead-end alley. They continued to stare, unsure what to make of him.

A mighty cry flew from his lips, startling them all, and working his way around the blue garbed cads, he threw an arm around Yukio.

"Stars faaading but I liiinger on deaaaarr! Still craaaving your kiiiisss!" He sang, then turned his face into the side of Ogata's head, muffling his laughter with a tuft of black hair and hard skull.

[Yukio Ogata]

Yukio's eyes got as big as ping pong balls as the man laughed into his hair, blowing a few strands into Yuki's eyes. For a moment, there was actual pity that crossed the faces of the officers. True and real pity. The man looked over. It was Marek. Where the hell had he come from? Oh, that's right he was the drunk Yuki had passed much earlier in this endeavor. He wrinkled his nose slightly as the smell of alcohol on his breath reached Yukio's nose. This was just going to make his problem worse...much worse. Now the officers had both people they needed cornered and tied like animals. Lovely.

"Some knight in shining armor you are," Yukio muttered out the corner of his mouth as he pushed Marek's slightly weaving frame away from him. "I'll bet your girlfriend's thrilled with you..." he said, looking over. He ran his fingers through the sides of his hair, straightening out the black and red strands, looking back at the officers. Well, the worst thing that could happen would be sharing a cell with Marek and having the man puke all over him.

Yukio sighed. He hated his life.

[Marek]

"For your information, I'm great." He said, slightly miffed. Then of course, there was the whole girlfriend thing. That really got to him. He didn't have one of those yet, he had just been so busy. Just took what he got, never really had anytime for women other than those he passed on the street. And those were pretty enough, ne?

"I don't have a girlfriend. Just a mean butler and grumpy tattoo artist." He replied, leaning his head back from Yukio's hair, though keeping his arm around him.

"That's the guy who killed all of Squad A, with the fire, and B last night at the shop. What should we do? We were told not to approach him."

"Oh come now, I'm not that bad. Really, all you have to do is let us go." He replied, flashing the group of men a pure white smile of completely straight teeth. His arm tightened around the Ogata kid and he caressed the handle of Eir. Would this be ugly, like last night?

"With you, kid-Kio dear, things just keep getting better and better."

[Yukio Ogata]

Better and better would not exactly be the word that Yukio would use, then again Marek was another human being from an entirely different planet than any one that Yukio had ever been on. He was just off enough to be...the young man flinched a little as the strong arm tightened around him and he got the distinct feeling that this could only end as it had the night before. Yukio licked his lips and gave a smile to the officers...not a very reassuring one, considering he had a crazy drunk guy beside him with a gun. Four things that should never be mixed.

"Well, then why don't you save your source of entertainment, and get me out of here," he said through his teeth, still smiling. He didn't exactly keep a gun on him at all times like this guy did, so if Yukio died, he would haunt Marek in hell.

[Marek]

"I'm working on it." He replied, in the same manner, through his teeth.

Removing his arm from Yukio, he stepped forward, grinning when in turn, the little troop of mini-soldiers stepped back from him. Perhaps there was hope for them yet. The less time they had spent with the main branch, the more brains they retained. But again, they were just following orders. Perhaps HQ was catching on as well.

"I'll tell you what I told your friends last night. Stand aside.." He growled, attempting to keep a rein on his drunken demeaor long enough to save his handsome Odarian friend. His hands moved down his sides, momentarily tugging at the waist band of his pants, revealing the tatto on his hip, before removing the twins from their holsters.

[Yukio Ogata]

Yukio took the initiative and stepped behind Marek. The man was just taller and bigger than he to cover him almost completely from view of the soldiers. If there was going to be a gun fight, Yukio was going to stand behind the guy with the guns. His eyes caught sight of the tattoo he had set on Marek's skin the evening previous, and it looked better now than it ever had in the shop. It curved with his hip, moved with the muscles underneath skin, sloping just slightly up where his pelvis protruded just slightly. Yuki felt a little smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

He looked down at his boots as he moved forward, a hair's breadth from Marek's back, watching as the man removed his guns from either side if his body. After this, Yuki was inclined to carry his gun with him at all times. Ever since he had met Marek--which granted had not been long ago--he had needed a gun almost every second. Apparently the man had racked up quite a history and now Yukio had put a tattoo on his hip and he was smack in the middle of it with him.

"Tat looks good," he whispered absently from behind Marek, smiling. "Nice call." Even though he was talking about the tattoo he meant all around. Guns, tattoo, being here, everything.

[Marek]

"Hm? Oh." He muttered, his gaze never leaving the cluttered men standing in front of the only exit. They seemed to be silently battling themselves. No words, just dirty looks of deep concentration and inner conflict. Just what he wanted, what he needed them to do. He took several more steps forward and again, they backed away, remaining silent.

"MOVE!" He yelled, causing all of them to jump. Thrusting the guns forward, he grinned when they spread like the seas before some enchanted relic. Authority figure. He moved between them, reaching behind him to extract Yukio from the target range.

They escaped the alley and lost themselves within the city planet before their location and direction could be tracked. Sooner rather than later, they stood before a large building that looked rather like a hotel. Basement floor, all his. He explained this to Yukio and headed up the steps.

"I think you should stay with me."

[Yukio Ogata]

Yukio filled his cheeks with air, then shrugged. He wasn't complaining. Marek had just saved his own hide and Yukio's when he had no reason to have done so. Yukio owed the guy. He followed him up the steps and into the the building the basement of which Marek had explained breifly about belonging to him. Yukio entered behind the other man to an open room with grey carpet, and expensive looking leather furniture. He glanced around once, twice, taking in several doors on the edges of the room, leading off to other places.

He was already burning up and when he entered the place, it seemed like he got forty-two times more hot, even though it really was nothing but comfortable climate speaking in the room. He shook back some of his hair, absently pulling it back with a tie on his wrist, fiddling once with his neck peircing before dropping his hands and wetting his lips.

"Okay..." he answered Marek much later than he had meant to, but figured better late than never. "Hey, not stepping on any toes, but, um, thanks for getting me out of there alive...and sorry for ditching you yesterday...inner conflict. We damn Odarians," he said absentmindedly, still looking about the room, trying to take in every detail as the morning spun back to the back of his mind and tried to get filed away in his subconsciousness.

[Marek]

"Yes. Damn Odarians.." He repeated, only slightly interested in his thanks as he moved deeper into his home. Removing the coat he wore, he placed it over one of the leather chairs and the disappeared behind a sheet of glass hiding a mini bar. His eyes roamed over the shelves that were properly stocked with variants of every form of drink. Then, his hand wrapped around the handle of the small refrigerator he had purchased for his more picky selections. Within, several bottles, none with labels, were lined and color coated. Most were blue, some green, but there was one with an orange tint. It was the one he chose among their number.

Slamming the door shut, he turned about, then considered what his guest might want. The stuff he drank would no doubt knock the slighter man off his feet for the rest of the night. It was no secret that Marek enjoyed rather potent stuff. The butler, his dear friend, could tell one as much.

"Something light to drink, right? You don't seem like the type who enjoys getting smashed." Pity though. He thought a bit more, the words more to himself than anyone else that might be present. Would the 'Doc' put in an appearance this night?

His mind continued and he idly poured a glass of red wine into a black glass, one of a very elaborate set he had picked up from a 'friend'.

[Yukio Ogata]

Yukio nodded mutely. Wine. His favorite alcoholic drink--mind you he didn't like many. He hated the taste of alcohol in almost all its forms, and it didn't take much for him to get wasted. He'd only gotten drunk once with a friend when he was fifteen. It had not been a pleasant experience, and Yukio had decided long ago he did not want a repeat of that.

He watched as Marek poured the smooth red wine into a black glass withing the drink nearly disappeared, giving it more of the look of blood than it already had. His eyes traveled up the arm that held the bottle and to the face that was decorated so with white hair, stern eyes, and set mouth. Yukio cocked his mouth a little, taking a breath and sighing it out heavily, looking away and back around the room. Did he live here alone? Surely not. It didn't have the feeling of being a one person place. Certainly there was someone else who was around...or who at least came around every so often. Yukio glanced up at the cieling, swallowing and tucking some hair behind his ears.

"You alone in here?" he asked, deciding he might as well know as much as he could about Marek besides that he liked to be drunk, get in trouble with the cops, kill cops, and get tattoos in the NIHONGO District. If they were going to spend anymore time together, Yukio figured finding things sooner rather than later was best.

[Marek]

"Me and the butler. The occasional woman tends to sneak in from time to time as well, but I assure you, I have nothing to do with that. It's all the butler.." He said, flashing the Odarian a smile after canting his head slightly to the side. Picking up the black glass, now filled to the rim with the sweet red wine. Handing it over to the dark haired young man, he stepped out of the mini bar and headed toward one of the black leather chairs.

"Come have a seat, my dear. We can talk, really get to know one another. Perhaps my servant shall put in an appearance. After all, you'll be getting to know one another since you'll be staying here when not at work."

[Yukio Ogata]

Yukio nodded, accepting the glass with a classic bow he had been taught by his mother. He had not quite shaken the habit of it. He followed Marek to the seating, choosing seat across from where Marek had sat, letting himself sink into it. His legs were slightly sore from his mad dash earlier, but it was nothing a hot shower later would not cure. He looked down and took a sip of the red wine. The flavor burst in his mouth. He hadn't had wine in forever--when he was at the club where he could get it, he was trying to keep the drunk patrons off he and his brother. The taste brought back memories. Good ones. He supposed this was another one to add.

He carefully sat the still full glass on a table next to him, and looked back over at Marek. The only person Yukio was interested in getting to know right this moment was this man, mysterious as he was, he piqued Yuki's interest. The servant would come later. The Odarian could only take one person at a time. Yuki leaned back into the chair, crossing his legs in a pristine, smooth manner and crossed his arms over his chest, smiling a little.

"Gotta watch out for those butlers," he said with a wink, chuckling, and taking another drink of the wine.

[Marek]

Marek arched a brow, somewhat surprised that he hadn't commented on the suggestion of him staying. He wasn't even sure it was a good idea for him to be having his business in Nihongo anymore. He was a wanted man because of Marek and while the silver haired man was not usually sorry for his actions, he had never meant to get Yukio tied into the explosion he had caused downtown.

The fire had been so pretty though.

"I know, right?" He laughed, popping the cork from the bottle he grasped and tilting it back to his lips. His throat burned, it was one of the best feelings he'd had in a long while. Since last night anyway. But that was a naughty story for another time.

"So..."

[Yukio Ogata]

Yukio watched him take a drink blinking once then twice, then yawning just because his brain needed oxygen. Then he took another drink of the wine he had been provided earlier. So, was right. It just occured to Yukio that he and this guy probably had so little in common they wouldn't even be able exchanged greetings on the street and have it understood by the other. From what he had deduced, this guy liked big shows, with big guns. And Yukio? Well, he just liked to stay under the radar. That wasn't how it was now.

He swallowed the wine, feeling the hint of a burn at his throat, the low alochol content familiar and foreign to his body. The licked his lips once, watching Marek lower the bottle before he opened his mouth and spoke. He wasn't going to touch why those officers had been after him in the first place. That was something he could find out later. Much later.

"So..." Yukio mirrored, shifting uncomfortably in his seat a moment, before switching and crossing the other leg. "What exactly...do you do, Marek?" he asked glancing around him once as he caught the sound of people passing by outside.

[Raif Landau]

The door of the mansion opened slowly, and a small framed man in thick glasses entered carrying several bags. Looking up he stood quietly, some might say speechless at the scene before him. After a few moments of silent thought, he walked through the room towards kitchen, after all he didn't want the groceries to sit out.

He stopped before he walked out of the room, however and turned back to the oaf, and his new friend.

"Company, sir?" He said lowly, "Shall I prepare an extra plate at dinner then?" Stupid oaf, oh to ring the life from your neck - erase you from existance,you failed experiment, but no here I am forced into servitude under you, because I made one fatal flaw when I created you.

I let you keep your mind.

He found himself lingering in thought too long and quickly turned his attention back to his 'master,' still awating an answer.

[Marek]

He began grinning like a fool the moment his dear friend strolled in, carrying a heavy load of groceries he had been sent out to fetch. Shoving up from his seat, he swiped some of the bags from him and peered inside. A lot of nummy things perfect for a big meal. It would be gone in hours if Marek's raging hunger returned. His eyes happened to find the 'doc', lingering there a bit longer then necessary, then they wandered back to his guest.

"Hope you're hungry." He murmured, flashing him a smile before disappearing down the hallway to put away the groceries he had snagged. Within the household, he wasn't completely useless.

[Yukio Ogata]

Yukio watched him peer into the bags and then look up and say he hoped Yuki was hungry. Which at the moment, he wasn't really, due to his hundred-meter dash that morning. He watched Marek moved down the hallway, bag in hand, considering the man who had come in a moment before. It must have been the 'servant' that Marek had mentioned earlier.

Yukio licked his lips, alone now in the sitting room. Well, alone with his wine. He picked the black glass back up and took another sip, letting the light burn travel down his throat and chest. Marek and his servant seemed an odd couple. He wondered what was in their history.

[Raif Landau]

He adjusted his glasses and put things in the few bags he had managed to keep hold of away. Marek a few feet away rifling through the bags he had grabbed. Stupid neanderthal - he'd probably eat most of this food raw and not tell the difference.

"I don't really need your assistance in my duties, sir." He said quietly, all the while thinking of good ways to poison him and his friend without endangering himself. "Besides, you're entertaining. Perhaps you should get back to your guest?" More like desert, he knew Marek's appetites, all too well in fact. Pretty young thing like that was probably... nnnn. Stupid oaf.