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Race; OPEN; Graded
Topic Started: Jan 14 2018, 07:40 PM (665 Views)
Aptissimi
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Little thing about the world. People in it like to push the boundries. Tell a man he can only walk and he'll want to run. Tell a woman she can't sing and soon enough she'll be belting out. Tell someone that they have to travel on the ground and bam, eventually someone up and invents airplanes. People and boundries just don't get along well, always been that way, always will be that way. Following that rule of thumb: You tell a bunch of kids that they can only drive fifty-five miles an hour and well... pretty obvious what was always gonna happen.

Street racing.

Hell of a thing. Bunch of kids hyped up and high on speed, adrenaline, and their own youth. Stupid dangerous. But that was all part of the thrill. Japan had a hell of a street racing scene it turned out. Some big shots of the group shot out messages and within the hour or so everyone just gathered together. People made bets, money was passed around along with a few other substances, and then BOOM! Everyone was off.

Bricen Kingfell was in Japan, call it an extended holiday. He spoke the language and had never actually been so it seemed like something worth doing. So far he'd been enjoying himself just fine but hadn't really done anything to write home about- not that he had anyone to write to. Then, while wandering a seemingly deserted street, WHAM all these people just kind of showed up.

The cars were nice, real nice. Cherry paint jobs, engines that could pur or roar, and wheels meant to burn. The kids driving them came in all colors and sizes, a fair few odd hairstyles. Hell, one car was converted into an open top to support the mutant kid driving it and his rather large shell. Human ingenuity at its finest. Some people carpooled, others just showed up walking around like Bricen was. These kids were everywhere, not just kids either though. A fair few older folks were around as well.

Closer to Bricen's age. They had shaved heads most of the time, a few tattoos, and the look of people that ought naught to be messed with. Odd enough one or two waved friendly like to Bricen- probably some comroderie since the scars on Bricen's face tended to make him seem the dangerous type- and one big fella wearing steryotypical biker wear even offered Bricen a beer. Bricen didn't really mesh with the general vibe most the people at the rally seemed to give off.

For starters he was a touch more American than most the others, but that was only to be expected. His red hair and obvious height didn't help him blend any either. Then there were his clothes, while most the kids seemed to think leather and neon colors were the trend to end all trends, the Texan wore kahki pants with some nice brown shoes. He covered his torso with a light blue polo shirt that looked rather nice against his complextion, and some rather clashing plaid socks that the man was more than a little fond of. He'd decided not to wear his fur coat today, though in truth that would have matched the feel of the rally more than his sunday school dad style of dress.

Still, even looking as out of place as he did and cearly being unfortunate enough to wander in on such an even the people around were friendly. They cheered with each other, laughed vibrantly, and were happy to share that fun with the man. All and all, Bricen decided they were decent folk.

So where did that leave this little opening? It left us at 6pm on a side street of one of the many cities in japan. With six flashy cars all lined up on the road. A pretty little thing, too little and too young for Bricen's tastes though, walked in front of the cars and held up a scarf. The moment she dropped the scarf the cars revved and zoomed off. Someone said they were gonna make the circuit and that they should be able to make a decent bit of money and bail out long before any police showed.

Nice kids. Nice night. Nice beer.

Bricen was liking Japan.

OOC
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Oirarana
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Njal wasn't lost. He would emphatically deny any suggestion that he was. He knew exactly where he was... spatially speaking. He knew where he had left his boat, and could navigate back to it without any issue. He knew which way North was, and with a little work he'd be able to figure out roughly where he was in relation to the rest of the world. So he was not lost, thank you very much. That being said, he had no idea what the people of this country called this place, nor was he too sure where he was going, so some might suggest that he actually was lost, but they were categorically wrong. It was just fact.

Squirming within the white boots that he wore to keep his tentacles out of other people's way, the young Scandanavian wandered down the street, his violet eyes wide as he took in the variety of people that seemed to be here for some sort of event. They wore leather and bright colours that he had never seen before, it was almost overwhelming, a feeling he had frequently in this country of Japan. He wondered if all the world outside of his island home was this strange.

The petite boy shied away from the various celebrants of this strange festival, not quite sure what was going on and not understanding nearly enough Japanese to even hope to guess. There were vehicles, and loud music, and people were drinking. It was, as far as he could tell, very un-Japanese and probably several kinds of illegal. Not that he was particularly bothered by that, he was mostly just confused about what they were doing. It was only once he noticed the lined up cars and the girl holding a flag that he got a general idea of what was going on. Some sort of race... on the city streets? How weird.

Looking askance at several men who called out to him in a strange way, the slender boy continued to walk through the crowd. He had no idea what they had said, but the way they were saying it concerned him slightly. He could feel his chromatophores pulse gently, the slightest hint of color appearing in his skin as he fought back the urge to flash warning colours based solely on the tone of the men. He couldn't know they were mistaking him for a girl, but it wasn't hard to guess their intentions.

He should probably just head back to the bay at this point.
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Aptissimi
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Good time all in all. The kids revved the engines on their tricked out rides. These kids seemed unaware of how every little thing they did screamed 'give me attention' while at the same time tried to pick out of the way places to avoid any attention. It was actually fascinating, and if Bricen had to make a guess at it on some level these kids wanted to get caught. They wanted to know what they had done, what they were doing, what they could still do. There was some kind of 'cred' that was earned in being caught and even more in getting away. Bricen didn't really understand the base of that. Still, these kids had their own way and there wasn't anything wrong with that.

As Bricen wandered a round, a can in hand that he sipped from bit by bit while enjoying the general feel of the event, he started to get the feeling that something was happening. Simply because everyone kept turning toward the cars. Bricen tried to get the feel for it but just couldn't figure out how everyone seemed to know what was happening. Likely it was just familiarity with these rallies that helped everyone know what was about to happen.

The pretty girl holding the flag raised her arm high and then threw down the flag in a flourish.

The squeal of the tires was almost deafening, a dull roar that built up, then smoke pitched high into the air. The race had started and the cars zoomed off down the way. A cheer rang up as it started and the cars rounded the first corner... then... well... Bricen couldn't see anything anymore. Everyone started talking excitedly and having a blast but Bricen was just a bit stumped as he could no longer track the race.

As Bricen continued to wander around he accidentally bumped into someone wandering around. Bricen spilled his beer on the ground and let out a low sigh. He bent down and picked up the can. One advantage of a can over a tall neck was that it wouldn't shatter when dropped. Bricen downed the remaining contents and then looked for who he bumped into. "Sorry about that." Bricen said in Japanese. His dialect was a bit off, but he didn't feel like trying to fix it. No one was going to confuse him for a Japanese man anyway. The girl Bricen accidentally bumped was-

Wait a minute.

Bricen leaned over and held a hand to his chin as he closely observed the girl he bumped into. None other than Njal. Something was off and it was rising up Bricen's hackles.

"Are you a boy or a girl?" He asked, again in Japanese.
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Oirarana
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A little overwhelmed, Njal found himself knocked to the side by a much larger man. The small scandanavian almost fell over as a combination of the man's size and the fact that he was not accustomed to walking around on feet like other people meant that his balance was not sufficient to keeping himself upright. He was forced to slide one of his tentacles out of his boot to push himself back up so he didn't end up on the ground.

"Umskylda," he murmured reflexively, steadying himself as he glanced around trying to figure the whole confusing situation out, "Orsakið meg." Brushing himself off, Njal took in the sight of the man who had knocked into him, eyeing the scars, the broad shoulders, and the appearance that would have indicated a foreigner in Japan centuries ago. But with the advent of Quirks uniformity of ethnicity went out the window. As it was, Njal had no idea what the man was saying to him, and he couldn't help but wish he had a weapon of some sort just in case the situation became violent.

He didn't want it to, but based on the surroundings he got the feeling that it could be a possibility.

"Ey dugi ikki so væl at tosa... err.. japanskt," he replied to the questioning tone, mind blank as he tried to figure out what to do. Njal had faced storms out in the depths of the oceans without flinching, but here, on land, with a man who was over a foot taller than him and was twice his weight, Njal wasn't so sure of himself.

"Dugir tú eingilskt?" he asked back, not really aware that he was asking in Faroese and so would be just as unintelligible to the man as the man was to him, "...ey dugi ikki so væl at tosa eingilskt eisini" he added with a shrug. At least he understood English better than Japanese, his working knowledge of that language was extremely limited considering how little time he had spent in the country. It still frustrated him.

He also still had not realised he had been speaking exclusively in Faroese.
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Aptissimi
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The kid Bricen bumped into seemed well... way out of depth in this. Bricen wasn't really in his element either but he could mesh when he needed to. This kid just kind of stuck out, like a sore thumb. Had to be careful with an air like that. The nail that stuck out was usually the one that got the hammer. The kid's balance was weird too now that Bricen looked, something about the sway when he was bumped. It wasn't a natural flow for a hit, or maybe Bricen was really just that rusty when it came to reading posture.

The kid then opened his mouth and started... speaking gibberish. That was impressive really. Bricen knew language. Spoke a bit of gab from most places around the world, so finding something that really sounded truly foreign was just weird. Bricen held his hand to his chin as he listened to the boy pose a... question maybe? Could be, could not, hard to tell with that variating inflection. Northern maybe? Lot of those hard sounds that Bricen typically attributed with some of those regions. Maybe the barrier came out of English or Japanese to.... well whatever in tarnation the boy spoke.

"Sprichst du Deutsch?
Ou peut-être français?
Puedo hacer español si eso es mejor?"


(Do you speak German?
Or maybe French?
I can do Spanish if that is better?)


Bricen said as he bounced around through a quick list of languages to try and see if the boy's eyes lit up at the sound of any of them. When he finished them he started a quick rotating pattern of handwork in front of his body, asking if the boy spoke sign language, though this was the longest of long shots. Sign language suffered such intense variations from state to state that trying to build anything serious across an ocean was just... well, that kind of jump just wasn't going to happen. Still, would have been rude not to try.

Bricen straightened himself after the attempts, bending down like that for too long was crap for the posture. He rolled his neck and then put his hands on his hips. He couldn't hear the roar of the engines or the screech of the tires, so the cars hadn't finished their first circuit yet. Smiling at the boy, despite his scars, Bricen waved a hand at the boy and started to make his way over toward where some of the drinks had been. They may have had some trouble talking with each other but one thing was usually able to break down pesky barriers like that. A good ol' fashioned cold one.

"Do you drink?" Bricen asked, miming drinking with one hand.
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Blinking slightly at the man as he tried to communicate, Njal felt frustrated by his own lack of language skills. Especially in the face of the large and intimidating fellow's obvious command of multiple languages, it was enough to make the small Scandanavian pout. Still, it sort of gave him some sort of starting point, since at least he could recognise a bit of what the man was saying now.

"Ermm... je...je ne parle pas...beaucoup le français..? " he tried to remember the proper phrasing and how to pronounce it, "parlez vous anglais? I do not speak it much better, but is more than France... French" He wasn't sure what was with the hand movements the man was making, but he assumed that it was simply another method of attempting to communicate. It seemed that despite the rather tricky matter of communication the man wasn't willing to just stand around and try and figure it out, gesturing for Njal to follow him.

Weighing up the situation, the young man shrugged and followed after him, figuring he might as well, and not feeling like he was in any particular danger from him. The hand gesture that came next was pretty obvious, and he couldn't help the broad grin that spread across his face as he nodded, "ja!" He had no idea what the man liked to drink, but no true son of the gods would turn down a proper drink, especially one offered in good faith. At least he hoped it was in good faith, but if not... well, he'd address that problem when it came to it.

The scarred man was starting to remind him of one of his uncles, big and intimidating looking, but overall polite and fun to be around. He hoped that his initial impression of him was correct, because it'd make this evening much more interesting... and pleasant, than he had been concerned it would become. Maybe he wouldn't head straight to the boat, and perhaps he could improve his language skills, considering the variety of languages the man seemed to speak.
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As they began to walk toward where Bricen was sure he could find a few drinks he heard the boy mumble out some passable french. Bricen turned a bit as he walked, holding a hand up to his ear to be sure he heard the boy right. A large smile crossed the man's features as the boy spoke. He laughed once and motioned for the boy to keep following him. "English eh? That is my specialty. Tell ya what. Now, what do you want to drink? My treat." Bricen said with a jovial tone to his voice. He slowed down a bit and tried to fix his Texan accent. If the kid had trouble with the language then the last thing needed was Bricen's natural speech pattern butchering an already unfamiliar language. Not that there was nothing wrong with out Bricen talked, just a bit of southern on his tongue.

Bricen approached the same gentlemen who had offered him drinks before and flashed a few bills from his pocket at them. Their faces lit up and after a short exchange Bricen walked away with two bottles. He handed one to the boy and clipped the top of the other one off from the surface of a cooler someone had brought. Bricen tilted the drink back slowly, taking a careful draw as he let the alcohol slip down his throat. That familiar taste on his tongue sent a small shiver down his spine into his belly. Say what you will, but Bricen was a man who enjoyed his vices.

Lowering the bottle, Bricen took a seat nearby and listened to the people around him for a moment. They were talking about the race and several were checking their phones, maybe they were able to track the cars, as far as Bricen could tell nothing had happened in a fair bit of time. Were they not making a second pass? It could have just been a straight line race but then why the rally? Seemed a little odd to him, ah well. When you got drink and fun there was no need to ruin it with too much thinking.

Bricen turned back toward the boy and smiled again, holding up his bottle to toast. "Ya seem more at sea than Colombus, kid. What's yer story?" Bricen asked, remembering to keep his speech slower but forgetting to try and compensate much for his accent. Bricen really was a pretty nice guy all around, when he wasn't boozing and brawling and raising Cain.
Edited by Aptissimi, Feb 2 2018, 12:41 AM.
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Feeling a little relieved that the man spoke his next best language, Njal trotted alongside the much larger male. "I not mind, prefer strong, not sweet" he answered with a shrug, aware that his appearance might imply a preference for what his family referred to disdainfully as 'sugar water'. Beer and ale, or even a strong liquor, wouldn't bother the young man even a bit, having been familiar with such drinks since he was quite young.

Sitting down, Njal took the drink from the man and raised it, "Skál!" he toasted before taking a sip of whatever it was, allowing himself to enjoy the feeling of the alcohol settling in his stomach.

"I story?" he blinked at the man for a moment, trying to put together the words into something that could be understood. "I víkingr, sail from Føroyar to explore, pass through strait into... Pacific? Ja, Pacific. End up here in Japans, meeting peoples and learning thing. Funny, thing but not Thing.... suppose could have Thing of thing" he snickered to himself, not really aware enough to realise that the man might not understand what he meant when he said Thing.

"Has been interesting in Japans, very different. New people, new rules. Much strict. Can't even carry axe around..." he pouted slightly at this, remembering a minor disagreement he'd had with someone over carrying the tool with him, instead being forced to leave it with his boat. It might have been intriguing for the young Scandanavian to be here, but it definitely took some getting used to.

"Njal is I, how called you? What you story?" he asked, taking another sip of his drink.
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Bricen drank his beer in slow sips as he listened to the kid speak. Based off how the kid held his drink and didn't hesitate or chug the man could tell it wasn't the boy's first drink. That was good, he might have felt a little guilty if he'd just gone out and gotten some punk drunk on a whim... might have. Might not have. The kid had a weird tilt to his voice but that wasn't so odd considering many would say the same thing to Bricen. The kid was a vikingr... Viking? Those were the brutes of the north right? Like Norse and whatnot? If so then the kid came from one hell of a rough culture, not that everyone from their homeland was some walking stereotype.

Bricen took another slow sip form his beer.

As the kid kept talking he told a joke, at least Bricen thought he did since it drew a laugh, but the Texan didn't get it. Must have been a language issue, that tended to happen a great deal of the time. Some things were just funny because of a play on words or a common factor shared by people who spoke the same gab. English was one of the hardest languages to push humor around in since it was just rife with euphemisms and whatnot. Japanese had a lot of word play that just never transitioned well between the two languages, for example. The kid then mentioned that Japan was a bit strict and he wasn't even allowed to carry an axe around.

That did get a decent chuckle out of Bricen. He lenaed over and offered a toast to the boy. He understood the feeling well, Japan was certainly a lot more strict than America had been. More heroes too, plenty of people wanting to butt into his business and tell him how to live. Bricen tipped the can for his longest draw yet before letting out a satisfied sigh. A moment later a loud roar was heard, several tricked out cars sped by and everyone in the area let out a loud cheer. Then after a few seconds the cars were gone once more.

Must have been the first lap. Bricen still wasn't sure how everyone was keeping track or maintaining energy for this rally, but it couldn't go on too much longer without some kind of flashing suit popping up to ask questions. Maybe the cars took different routes each time, all synched up to the same wifi or some such. It did all seem exceptionally well coordinated after all. Ah well, deal with problems as they come and don't tire yourself on worrying about those that haven't.

"Hmm? My story? Not much to say, came from the heart of Texas. That's in America. Needed a vacation so I came to Japan." Bricen finished a short and rather unsatisfying summary of himself. He didn't mention his family, his lost boxing carrier, or any of his troubles with the law. No need to bother the kid with any of that.

Bricen finished off his drink and let out another slow sigh, the tint of alcohol on his breath now. He waved over the guy he'd gotten the drink from and flashed a few more bills. Glancing back at the boy he gave the kid an encouragable grin. "Want another?"
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One of the spectators among the cheering crowd was Tao Ferdinand. He was much quieter than the men and women around him, but even beneath the hood of a rainbow-coloured cloak, a massive grin was clear to see. Officially, Tao was there to scout out new henchmen, since he could only get a hold of a scant few of his mother’s old team (and while they were all very enthusiastic, their quirks seemed more suited to assisting in housework or entertaining children than daring heists). Regardless, Tao relished the opportunity to watch his favourite sport and drink in the atmosphere, along with a lot of whatever else there was to drink.

Drifting around the crowds, seemingly without direction, he looked for someone to pitch his “job offer” to. There was a reason he chose a take his search to a street rally, beyond the visceral appeal of seeing loud cars go fast: Tao figured that the nature of the sport as an underground affair meant boosted his chances of finding people willing to lend a hand in his own dirty deeds, and even those who refused him would probably think twice before calling the cops. Still, Tao opted to keep his proposals relatively discrete. Saving the costume of his alter ego for an appropriately dramatic debut meant that any attention he drew here might follow him in his day-to-day life.

Pretty soon he came by a pair of seemingly ideal targets and casually approached them. One was a big guy, dressed casually. He had some noticeable scarring on his arms, visible even from behind. Tao figured his team could do with a big guy or two, especially ones who knew their way around a fight.

The draw Tao felt from the other one was… less clear. Maybe it was the way he stood. The way he held his drink? Maybe even a faint smell? He did not know what, but something about the shorter one appealed to Tao in some intangible way that made him almost nostalgic for some reason. If he was forced to put it into words, he would say that they gave off the vibe of “someone who knew the Sea”. Not being forced to put this feeling into words was probably one of the things that allowed him to put so much confidence into the hunch.

As he strolled up behind the two he caught a few words of their conversation. More important than what exactly either of them was saying, was that both of them seemed to be speaking English. The language had never was never his strongest subject in High School (or, if it was, it would only be by virtue of his deficiencies in everything else), and up until now he had planned on gradually guiding the conversation towards the subject of robbing banks, with all subtlety that mastery over a language allowed. Still, at this point he felt like he was committed to at least trying get these people on his side. After waiting for a lull in their conversation, he slid himself into the space between them.

“Hello~! Big race, huh?” he cheered, only half-sure of what he was saying, but nonetheless enthusiastic as he raised his glass.
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Njal nodded slightly at the man's explanation. America. He'd considered heading in that direction at some point, but something had nudged him towards the Japans and he had ended up here instead. He was left feeling a little like the explanation had been heavily condensed and he still hadn't offered his own name, but after a few moments the scandanavian shrugged it off. Any more complicated than what it had been and he probably wouldn't have understood what the man had been saying. Nodding slightly at the offer for another drink, Njal stared at the surroundings with naked curiousity.

He had no idea what was going on here, but alcohol generally made every gathering more interesting, and he wasn't about to turn down free booze. Especially considering this country's entirely unfair stance on drinking age. He wasn't a Japanese citizen, he should have been allowed to buy whatever he wanted, but even a raw amethyst hadn't been enough to convince Japanese shopkeepers to part with booze.

The sudden appearance of a new person had him blinking slightly in surprise, somewhat confused as he couldn't quite figure out what this man was saying. He could feel his tentacles twitching within the confines of his boots, the sudden shock making it harder for him to not react reflexively, even as the patches around his eyes darkened for a few moments in warning before settling back into their usual colour.

He looked towards the tall man, not sure how to respond to the newcomer and still trying to work out what had been said.
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Bricen was having a fine ol time to be sure. He drank, laughed, and even cheered when best he could. The cars made another lap and Bricen raised his drink up and signaled for the kid to do the same. Oh yeah, looking damn good. Bricen hooted and hollered right and proper with everyone else. Good relatively clean fun to be had, in an environment like this the man didn't even feel like he needed to drink that much. He probably still would out of habit, but he was just as content to enjoy the fun vibe the event gave off.

Around that time someone spoke behind Bricen. He turned to see a strange looking fellow. Bricen looked at the guy and sized him up nice and quick like. Off a glance he didn't look like a fighter, at least not the type Bricen was used too. That didn't mean a whole lot in a world of quirks but it was the only real frame of reference that he had to work off of. That is, the frame of a boxer.

Bricen waved at the guy and gave him a wide smile. "Heyo, how's it going buddy. Yeah great race so far." Bricen said more than happy to talk all day long. The kid seemed hesitant about how to proceed, but Bricen knew the words well enough. Man, not knowing how to really talk to anyone must have been killer first time in a strange place.

It was around this time that a subtle change washed over the crowd. People hushed for a moment, many looking down at their phones, and then movement. It was organized but hurried. People moved into cars, stepped toward alleys and the nearest escape. No one ran, no one screamed, no one made it seem like anything more than a good time to leave. Bricen saw the fellow selling beers pack up and start loading the cooler into a car trunk. What the hell was this all about? Before Bricen could really ask anyone what it all meant the cars made one last lap, and in the distance the sound of sirens quickly filled the air.

"Eh... might be a good time to start scampering yanno?" Bricen said aloud, looking off in the direction of the sirens.
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Tao grinned. From the key words he could pick out from the larger guy’s response, as well as his general demeanor, he seemed willing enough to chat. He replied with a wide grin and a nod.

The smaller one seemed much more cautious as they did… something with their eyes. Still, he seemed more frightened than outright angry, so Tao stepped away to give him a bit more space but stuck around nonetheless.

Though Tao did not catch a word of what the taller one said next besides “good”, but Tao did speak the (mostly) universal language of police sirens and got a grasp of the situation pretty quickly. Although he was as cautious about being arrested as anyone else, Tao also really wanted to try sell these people on a life of crime... or at least a few days of it. Specifically, crime that involved them working for him.

Following Bricen’s gaze, it seemed like there was at least a little time before the cop cars would be upon them.

The tall guy seemed the least uncomfortable out of the two of them and at least able to hold some kind of conversation with the jumpy one. He hoped if he could entice him, then he could in turn convince the other.

“First, uh… Chādo!” he announced, hoping the name of the guessing game was roughly the same in most languages.
With no time for mincing words, Tao resorted to miming.

He pointed at Brincen.
He flexed.
He rubbed his fingers together in a sort of coin-rubbing gesture.
He pointed to himself.
He waved his hands noncommittally as he tried to think of what do next.
He pointed back at Brincen.
He held up his hands in an expectant shrug, clearly waiting for some kind of response.
Edited by SweetDumpling, Mar 13 2018, 01:04 PM.
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Still confused, Njal eventually settled for simply sipping at his drink and waiting to see how things unfolded. The change in the attitude of the crowd was obvious to the youth, probably because he was currently forced to be hyper aware of body and facial language since he couldn't speak Japanese and had to rely on physical cues to tell what was going on. Still unsure the best way to proceed, he looked to Bricen to lead the way.

The sound of sirens though... that was universal.

"This... law break?" he asked Bricen curiously, gesturing around them to emphasise his point. He didn't particularly care about the laws of the country, but he'd rather not be around when trouble struck, since it would be particularly difficult to talk his way out of it, what with his language difficulties. "No want... bother?" The last word tralied off on an interoggative tone as he tried to figure out if it was the right one to use.

The newcomer miming something odd only served to confuse the Nordic boy further, his skin rippling through a few very subtle shades of colour to emphasise this confusion. What sort of person had approached them, and what did he want?
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As Bricen began to glance around from left to right he became very aware of how well organized this whole ordeal was... if you were invited. It seemed like these kids had all assigned vehicles for arriving and leaving. As soon as the call went out people were grouping up in trucks and cars and peeling out, several loaded into the back of one truck which reminded Bricen a fair bit of his youth. Coolers were loaded up, people waved hasty goodbyes... even beer cans and bottles had been picked up. Holy hell, in less than two minutes it had gone from a lot of nearly seventy people to twenty, and that number was dropping fast as well.

Bricen turned toward the pale fellow that was currently miming something at him. He had shouted Chado before going into... what the fuck was he doing? He pointed at Bricen, flexed... okay, easy enough. Bricen had a nice build. Rubbing fingers together meant money right? Then the little guy pointed at himself. Then he pointed back at the tall Texan and shrugged... what the... wait he wasn't. Ah. Bricen understood exactly what the little guy wanted now. Unfortunately Bricen wasn't a male prostitute, he wasn't THAT strapped for cash.

The kid Bricen had been hanging with seemed confused and asked if the rally was breaking the law. Bricen smiled at the kid and held up two fingers that were juuuuuust nearly touching. "Yeah, law break. Just a small bit. Better run." Bricen said with a laugh. Getting away from a good time was half the thrill of it all after all. The red headed man then turned back to the pale guy and said rather bluntly: "Mōshiwakearimasenga, watashi wa danseide wa arimasen. Keikan ga arawareru mae ni hashiranakereba naranai." (Sorry, I'm not into guys. Gotta run before the cops get here.) Bricen spoke in clear Japanese, though he kept his southern lit in his speech. He understood people not expecting him to have a clear grasp of several languages... but asking for sex? For money? Come on son!

Bricen waved bye to the kid and the strange little pale man, and then started jogging. He wasn't sure where everyone at the rally had gone... but he knew where he was going. There was a bar about three blocks over. They had some decent saki and would be a fine place to hang out. As he started off the street racers made their final pass, a bright green car being the winner of said race. As soon as they passed the start like the cars started splitting off down different streets. The sound of sirens was louder than ever. The cops would arrive any second. Best to not be around when that happened.

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