Log Title: Will work for food
Summary: Welch comes to Kagami's shop and gets help. In doing so must pay…with food.
IC Date: Sat Feb 16 22:02, 2381
OOC Date: Sat Feb 16 22:02, 2019
Related Logs: None
kagamiwelch

 

 

Sometimes it takes me enough being wrong to eventually get to right

* * *

OOC Time: Sat Feb 16 20:02:40 2019

* * *

The shop is rather small and tech is hanging off the walls and ceiling. Repaired tech is on shelves and sitting in the back working on a laptop of sorts is Kagami. A lean young man who seems really focused. His fingers are just moving at speeds no regular human would be able too. Click click click. He's wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans that clearly are far too loose. This young man while nice to look at, has zero fashion sense. He stops working on his computer and brings his goggles down to quickly fuse something before testing. The old machine lights back up. Kagami smiles brightly and spins on his chair and keeps spinning. The beat in the shop is heavy and pulsing like a heart beat.

* * *

The cherry of a lit cigarette provides a red glare of illumination in the reflection of a window outside the shop. Welch snubs the cigarette against the store facade, gently, leaving a dot of ash but not crumpling the nicotine stick. He pockets the bud, if only to prove that old habits die hard - and that a new coat of paint in a derelict home doesn't change what's underneath any more than Welch's nice suit changes his nature. He pulls open the door and steps inside.
The scent of nicotine enters with him as he makes sure than the door seals shut behind him. His shoes tap in across the floor as he takes a couple of steps and he lifts a hand in wordless greeting to the spinning repair tech as he takes a quick glance around the shop proper.

* * *

The wee tech stops his spin and glances at the man. He slowly looks him over before padding over towards him. He's not wearing shoes but he is wearing what looks to be the warmest socks made. He waves back at the man but stays a little back to avoid too much scent. "Can I help you good sir?" His voice cracks a little and he clears his throat. "I have tea would you like tea?" He speaks fast, almost without a break in the words.

* * *

Welch's automatic inspection of the shop ends - his attention returns to the tech as he stands. His expression is distant for the moment - like he hasn't made up his mind about the place; that or high, or hasn't slept in a few days. In response to the first question, he reaches into his suit jacket pocket and produces an ONI wristband. Or, well, what was once an ONI wristband, no merely a strap of wristband holding some of the appropriate pieces. Otherwise, smashed. He holds it out, in his palm. "I need to see what I can get out of this." What little might be stored on the device itself. "I'm not much of a tea drinker."

* * *

<FS3> Kagami rolls Repair: Failure. (5 2 1 4 4 1 5 2 4 2 3)

* * *

The man reaches his hand out and with delicate fingers takes the pieces of the ONI and nods his head. He turns and moves back to his desk. He sits down and attaches it to his computer and he tries to boot it up to see something. Smoke comes from it and he quickly pulls it from the computer. "What happened to it?" He bends over it and slowly starts taking it apart.

* * *

Welch lowers his hand, once the device is taken. And he follows to the desk, only to stand before the opposite side of it. "Someone stepped on it," he answers, vaguely. "Several times," he adds. His nostrils twitch as he notes the smoke, those pale blue eyes seeming suddenly much more lively - but with no reflexive attempt to take the device away. He leans forward as the repair tech takes it apart. "I don't expect much, if anything," he admits. "But I figured I'd try all the same."

* * *

<FS3> Kagami rolls Repair: Great Success. (8 7 8 6 4 3 7 5 3 4 5)

* * *

The tech grumps quietly to the stepping. "Am I going to get stepped on for repairing it?" He takes out the small chip and the wee board inside. He removes the small pieces from the cracked board. He places them on a mirror on the desk. He grabs an unused ONI bracelet and opens it. The small pieces are removed from the working ONI and then carefully placed on the working board. He turns and grabs solder. He lifts his eyes and stares at Welch. "Do you like people watching you closely while you try to perform?"

* * *

"Not by me," Welch answers that first question, utterly dry in tone. And he watches carefully, without much relevant knowledge of software or hardware to provide context for the work of the tech. But he grunts - something approaching sounding impressed, as the old pieces are sleeved in a new shell. He meets the tech's stare, unflinchingly. "If the people watching are who's paying me, they can get as close as they want," he answers. Matter of fact. He shrugs, and he straightens back up. As the tech works, he sticks his hands into his pockets and idly paces out toward a wall of hardware to inspect - again, without knowledge of context. "Always this quiet, this time of day?" he asks.

* * *

<FS3> Kagami rolls Repair: Great Success. (7 5 2 2 5 7 2 3 8 8 5)

* * *

<FS3> Kagami rolls Programming: Great Success. (7 4 3 1 8 7 8 4 7 2)

* * *

The tech stops working a moment and frowns. "I never fixed this. I would rather not get stomped and if someone comes knocking for me.. I'm coming to find you." He grumbles quietly. He uses the solder to put the pieces on the new board and waits for it to dry before he put the ONI back together and then plugs it back into his computer. He grunts a little. "Slightly scrambled. Let me fix the main OS and work through the grid." His fingers start moving rather quickly along the keyboard as his eyes start to glow. Those blue eyes now with a yellow ring around them.

* * *

"Of course not. Just like I was never here," Welch says without looking back from the hardware on the wall. Rather, when he does glance away, it's out toward the entrance - a cautious sort, even if he keeps a rather calm demeanor. When the tech states that the data is slightly scrambled, he's reeled in, taking his time in walking back toward the desk. "Any sense of what's still on there?" he asks. Hands still pocketed.
What's stored on the device is written in simplified Chinese script. Mandarin, to someone with an eye for specificity. And though the menu options can likely be switched to Amanglic like a flick of a switch, the contents of saved messages remain in their original Mandarin text.

* * *

The young man grumbles a little. "I will make it Amanglic at least on the menu's but you will need to translate it. Simplified Chinese and I'm Japanese so words are there but they mean something completely different." He points out. Finally he hahs quietly and the ONI starts to light up. "Found the break. Let me rewrite the code."

* * *

"I can handle that," Welch says, as to the translation. And he leaves the matter at that. While the mention of ethnicity does warrant a studying look by Welch of the tech, it doesn't draw additional inquiry - a curiosity, but not all too strange in the age of resleeving. "This might not have been a waste of a trip after all," he says, as close to complimentary as he's gotten for the work thus far. No pressures for time or price as he attends the work.

* * *

Kagami keeps working with that pulsing beat that is going throughout the shop. When he finishes, he smiles brightly and removes the ONI. He stands up and moves over to Welch. "What do I get for it

* * *

Kagami keeps working with that pulsing beat that is going throughout the shop. When he finishes, he smiles brightly and removes the ONI. He stands up and moves over to Welch. "What do I get for it?" He holds the ONI back from the man, standing between them. He grins a little as he's clearly in a good mood from that work.

* * *

Welch retrieves his right hand from its chosen pocket, bringing with it an identification card - something for detailing who he is outside of sending credentials over ONI. With it, is a simple picture of Welch and the rank PI-3 over the name 'Welch, Eoin'. GPPI. "A preferred rate, I'm hoping," he quips. It's harder to tell where his spirits lie, given his demeanor - but it's likely good, given his slack, relaxed posture.

* * *

His ONI lights up and then he sees the badge. "No." He turns and moves away from the man. "I worked with the GPPI and police one time and I had to be resleeved because a psycho blew my back through my chest with a heavy rounds." He takes a seat and crosses his arms glaring at the computer. "Won't die again for you guys."

* * *

Welch puts his badge away, lifting a brow as he notes Kagami's response to it. "Messy business," he comments. He steps to the desk, the side of it, and leans against it at the hip. "I don't do amatuer work, and this isn't evidence for the courts. I'll pay the standard price, and assure you that you won't be getting firebombed." He looks back toward the door, quiet a moment before he adds. "Not regarding this or me, anyway."

* * *

He takes a deep breath and stays staring at his screen. He pushes himself up and walks over to the man putting the ONI down. "Don't experience sleeve death. Not violently." He warns the man. "If I get pulled into VR and tortured or this sleeve is damaged…I swear to christ…" He rubs his forehead. "Pay whatever, I don't care." His voice breaks again as he moves back to the desk and sits heavily.

* * *

Welch is entirely quiet on the subject of sleeve death. He picks up the ONI instead, straps it to his wrist and holds it close to his eye to establish a link with his already present contact. A yellow light emits in lines around his pale blue iris. He smirks. And he takes a moment before he says it. "Nice work." The yellow around his iris fades and he slips the ONI from wrist to pocket as he turns toward the tech, no longer leaning, no longer smirking. "If you really don't care, I really won't bother to pay. And that'd be a shame, given the good work." He pauses - seems to think. "Tell you what. Shoot me a message of you change your mind. We'll negotiate a price when you feel less like a corpse."

* * *

Kagami lifts a brow slowly at the not pay comment. "How about you take me out to eat?" He grumbles. Someone is hangry. "This sleeve has two empty legs and I've eaten already today but I'm starving." He growls as he sips his tea that he already had prepared. "Then after that we can negotiate price." He leans back in his wheely chair and looks at Welch. His blue eyes narrow a little as he just eyes the man.

* * *

Eat? Welch again turns toward the door - the neon-lit dark of the outside streets that he'd traversed with a cigarette wedged between his lips. What time is it? That distant demeanor speaks a little more as to the apparent tiredness. The uncertainty of the hour. "I could eat," is what he replies, eventually. He turns his gaze back to Kagami and upticks his chin. "Got a place in mind?"

* * *

The young man grins a little at the approval. He slides his thick socks off and slides smaller socks on and rather large shoes. He stands up and stretches out, bones popping back into place. He grabs a cable and slides it around his hips and ties it to hold his pants up and then grabs his jacket pulling it on. Everything is WAY to big for him. "I honestly do not care. Food is food. I'll eat a bowl of crickets I'm so hungry."

* * *

"I don't think I'm up for crickets, but at least it sounds cheap," Welch says. He steps toward the door, looks out from it, a quiet sweep of the street. "I'm thinking somewhere I can grab a beer," he admits - giving little to the narrowing down of potential locales. "Do you need time to close up?" he adds, as he leans in against the doorframe - as if merely casually waiting, and not observing the blank faced commuters of the night.

* * *

Kagami grins a little at the beer. "I can have a beer too." He points out. He grabs the keys off the desk and walks out the door, waits for Welch to leave the shop before locking up and dropping a gate and locking that too. Then his eye lights up and two camera's outside turn on. He nods his head and gestures. "Lead the way."

* * *

Welch steps outside while he lets Kagami lock up. He inhales, deep, letting the night air filter in through his nostrils - with a little less garbage on the air, with the sun having long since descended. "Short of buying that expensive champagne to get a stripper into the VIP room, sky's the limit," he quips in response to Kagami's intent to get a beer. He toggles one button closed on his suit jacket - the cut of his midsection allowing any holster to remain less than obvious against his side. "I know a teppanyaki place," he decides, tilting his head one way, up the street - close enough not to need a cab, apparently. And he starts off, leisurely pace, expecting Kagami to come along.

* * *

Kagami's brows rise up in surprise. "I could have dessert too?" Then Welch is walking and he rushes to follow. His shoes flip flopping as he walks. "Is it good? This place you are taking me too as I'm rather picky about teppanyaki. My mother makes the best teppanyaki…" He grins happily as he puts his hands in his pockets. "I was trying to learn but…I am not a cook." He uses his long legs to keep pace with Welch. "I've never actually drank champagne. I always stuck with beers, scotch, and whiskey."

* * *

"If that's what floats your barge," Welch comments, on dessert - without much concern. He fishes the cigarette bud that he'd snuffed against Kagami's shop, earlier, and fixes it between his lips to relight with a gold plated lighter in his other hands. He takes a long pull, nearly finishes the rest of the cigarette off in one go. "I'm not sure how your mother makes it," he says, as a point of comparison, and after an exhale of nicotine laced smoke. "But I like it. Pick somewhere else if you've got reservations." He points down an alley. Shortcut. And leads the way, careful not to bump too much trash with his expensive shoes in the reprieve from neon light cast about the place. "The champagne isn't so much to drink. It's priced so that the club gives you preference - attention. Lets the staff know who's flush with cash." He shrugs, inside his suit jacket. "But I suppose you could also just drink it."

* * *

Kagami grumbles quietly and follows after him. "Well she usually starts with a…" Then something clicks and he blushes. "Forget I said that." He sighs quietly and shakes his head. "It should be fine." He grins but he watches the smoke and he shakes his head. "That's not good for you. Can I order you to stop that? Sky's the limit right?" He nods his head at the idea of champagne. "So why not just flash cash if you have it instead of buying something you won't use?"

* * *

Welch doesn't comment on what Kagami told him to forget. As if he's already dropped the line of thought from his brain, discarded it somewhere with the trash in the alley and all the forgotten things there. "Breathing, down here on the ground, isn't healthy. I just filter it my own way," he says - this time, with a smirk. He takes another pull and finishes off the nicotine stick. A kind of stopping, technically, as he drops the filter and steps on it before he continues on. Out onto the street on the other end, and toward what used to be a light rail station. "A lot of good reasons not to flash cash in a club full of people that might jump you for it outside. You can buy champagne in digital. And it doesn't look as bad as it could, if someone's tracing your transactions. Almost there."

* * *

Welch is followed and behind him there is a grumble. "Oh yeah. Bad air? Let's filter it through thousands of chemicals to make it worse." He shakes his head. "Plus you could smell much better without it." He nods his head as they come out of the alley. "Or you know… don't go to strip clubs?" He says it like it's a given. "I don't have cash so I can't flash it but I will take your advice." He rushes a little closer to Welch and keeps just one step behind him as he's lead.

* * *

"It's a gamble. I don't always play the best odds," Welch says, on his ill conceived filter. "And maybe I like the way I smell." He actually chuckles some at the suggestion to just not go to strip clubs. "Landmarks of the trade, kid. You go where the work takes you." He leads them into the light rail station. Or rather, the structure erected around the entrance of it - a vinyl canopy for a roof, and driftwood attached by twine for walls. Enough space, inside, for the stools surrounding a bar. They've missed the crowd. A couple of people off to the left end. Suits, of a cheaper sort than Welch's. Drinks against the back wall. A variety of foods cooking off on the teppan. Welch steps aside for Kagami to head in, first.

* * *

Kagami makes a face. "Firewood is a good smell. Smoke for the ciggies is brutal. Do you even sex sir?" He teases a little. He lifts a brow slowly. "I'm not a kid!" His voice deep and firm. He's forcing it deeper. He sees the restaurant and he easily goes in and breathes in the air. "Oh yes." His stomach growls loudly and he winces as he grabs it. "Okay…might not have eaten in a while. The hunger pains are real."

* * *

"Well enough that I never hear anyone in my bed complain about me smoking?" Welch says. "Or maybe I'm just bad enough that they have something else to complain about," he adds - the self deprecating humor of the trade. Something both the cops and criminals have in common; checking ego at the door, to live another day without too much attention. "You're 'kid' until you give me a name," he says, not at all deterred as he follows Kagami inside and takes a seat. Unbuttoning the front of his suit as he settles in, and as the sole proprietor finishes up the order for the others at the bar. "Repair don't pay much? Or just bad about getting lost in the work?" he asks.

* * *

Kagami glares a little. "Firstly, I'm complaining, sir. Secondly no one is -that- bad that someone wouldn't say anything unless they were also a smoker. Or you have done so well they are speechless." He points out. He removes his jacket and stretches his limbs out. He places it over the back of the chair and removes his shoes, putting them under the table but off. He sits down and lifts his eyes. "Ryuumi Kagami. People call me Kagami, K, or Valkyrie." He grumbles. He shrugs. "It does pay well and if I ever need money, I don't…" He clears his throat. "I go about it in legal ways. I just get absorbed in my work sometimes."

* * *

"This isn't my bed," Welch counters. A familiar glance from the chef warrants the addition of, "Though I have passed out hear." Honesty that won't cost him anything. "Let's hope," he says, for the possibility Kagami poses. "Valkyrie - is that like a handle?" He doesn't shoot back with his own name. Maybe he expects Kagami saw it on his badge. "I'm not a cop. I don't care if you sell puppies full of drugs out the back room unless someone is paying me to source some vivisected puppies," he states, when Kagami pauses to address legality. "What do you want, to start?" he asks, as he flags down the newly freed chef.

* * *

Kagami rolls his eyes. "Course this isn't your bed but it's not like you could score all this." He gestures to his lean body. He glances around a little. "That's… don't do that." He grumps. "Yes Valkyrie is a handle. I handle sensitive information and either bury it or bring it back to life." He points out quietly. "I don't sell drugs but I can hack into banks and skim off more wealthy people. Nothing more than a fraction of a penny which no one notices." He shrugs as he looks at the menu. "Water and chili ponzu yellowtail. What are you going to start with?"

* * *

"What? Showing up at your place with a badge, smelling like nicotine wasn't a deal maker?" Welch quips sarcastically at Kagami. He delays speaking as to the rest to repeat Kagami's order to the chef - adding a second of the chili ponzu yellowtail for himself. As well as something called a 'Bayle'. Some cheap local brand of pale ale. Once the chef - a sleeve in its 60s at least, Japanese, weather-worn - is ff collecting water from a hijacked tap and beer from a can. "Useful skill to have. What's the going rate, there? Two meals?" he asks. Nods wordless thanks to the chef for the delivery of their beverages before he continues down another line of inquiry. "Valkyries. That's mythology, right? Warrior women with wings or something?"

* * *

Kagami shakes his head. "Not a deal maker and play your cards right with this dinner here and you may have a deal." He quips right back. "High." he mentions about the going rate. "I can … fix a stack that's damaged and sometimes I can even move the DHF and unscramble it. I've yet to be able to spin someone back up but the data is there. The billions of trillions of lines of code, if you can read it." He grumbles. "So yeah…the price is high." He leans back a little and nods. "Valkyries in ancient Norse mythos chose who lived and died in battle. They bring half the slain to Valhalla and the other half to Folkvangr." He bows his head when he gets the water. "Domo arigatogozaimasu." He takes the water and sips some. "Bearer of the dead." He speaks softly. "The name used to make more sense but I've just not changed it since the sleeve…"

* * *

"Because if there's anything I'm well known for, it's attractive table manner," Welch quips. The locale - this nameless teppanyaki built out of the carcass of the light rail station, certainly smells of the sea. The salt in the driftwood that makes up the walls could almost give the illusion of a shoreline, if the traffic heard in the distance, overhead, could be mistaken for waves. He takes a long swig off his can of Bayle while the chef goes about starting on their food. He doesn't comment on the disparity of sleeve and name, further, once addressed - just files it away. But he does loop back to the work Kagami does on the side. "Complicated stuff. Not what I'd usually expect from a repair tech. Where'd you learn to do all that?"

* * *

Kagami gestures to Welch. "Your eyes are attractive enough." He grumbles. He breathes in the scent and lifts a brow. "I started tinkering when I was a child. I'd tear things apart and put them together. I started coding when I was ten. I wanted to code a whole new type of VR." He speaks rather absently. "I graduated early and then went to school for programming. I learned the ins and outs of all code. A classmate brought in a fragged stack and we all examined it. The coding was so beautiful but clearly broken." He sighs and glances down. "I became obsessed with taking a fragged stack and moving the DHF into a new stack and spinning the person back up. I tried it once and … " He shakes his head. "Broken code does horrible things to fragile human minds."

* * *

"Thanks - maybe they're even my own," Welch says, as to his eyes. "Or maybe I just paid top dollar for them." He's smirking as he says it, between drinks - amused by his own manner. Otherwise he listens. Sizzle on the teppan drowning out sound from outside the shack. The duo down the bar engaged in an excited, yet hushed conversation. Welch seems lost in it all, those complimented eyes briefly disengaged in the sensory landscape. It may seem like he's not paying attention, but he grunts at the end of Kagami's story. "Some things just don't run with missing pieces," he concludes. "Local school?"

* * *

Kagami shakes his head. "I see the coding behind them. It's beautiful. So shut up and take the compliment." He finishes off his water and stretches his arms over his head. Bones pop rather loudly before be drops his arms. "No it doesn't but I want to be able to fix it. Fix DHF coding…" He scoffs at himself. "It's like trying to splice a broken DNA sequence with a keyboard." He rubs his forehead. "No actually. It was the best school my parents could afford."

* * *

Welch scratches at the side of his nose, considering Kagami's counterpoint for a moment. In the end, he shrugs - conceding in acceptance of the compliment. Taking another drink. He looks back to the entrance, on odd occasion - usually while given the excuse of a particularly bold gust of wind or a sound outside. Allowing him not to seem too paranoid as he rechecks their surroundings. "Loaded parents?" he asks, as follow up. "Sound rather noble. In a scientific frontier kind of way. Really think it's doable from some small shop down on the ground?"

* * *

Kagami points to his eyes and they glow. "I can see things." He grumbles at the man before his eyes stop glowing. He watches how paranoid he is and he slides his seat a little closer to Welch. "My father is a doctor at an ICU and my mom is a lawyer. Not loaded anymore. They got me this…" He gestures to the sleeve. "I don't think it's possible without trying." He frowns sadly. "So many people are RD'd every day around here that … what if I could stop that forever. DHF helps us live longer than our sleeves but what if I could eliminate RD all together."

* * *

"Doesn't hurt to keep an extra pair of eyes out," Welch says. And he leans, some, toward Kagami's voice as he slides closer - giving a conspiratorial effect, but lessening the need to speak up at least while food is being plated. "New sleeves are expensive," he admits. "Especially ones that aren't already worn out." He takes a long drink of his Bayle, finishes off the first can, and orders another before he comments on eliminating RD. "I wouldn't mind it, for myself. Others. Others, I'm much more comfortable knowing that they'll never get spun back up."

* * *

The chili ponzu yellowtail is Yellowtail, jalapeo, cilantro and chili ponzu sauce. It's listed as an appetizer. So once it's being plated Kagami grins at the man and speaks something in Japanese to the chef who bows and gets him a water jug before grinning and moving off. "I ordered us some pork gyoza and surf and turf after we are done." He cuts into his yellowtail and tastes it. He hums happily and pats his feet on the ground. "This sleeve cost my parents their retirement. I am going to pay them back." He lifts a brow and nods his head. "I can see it being used for bad things."

* * *

Welch sits back as food is placed before him - inhaling the spice in the steam that wafts from the dish. Leaning back forward and popping the tab on his second beer. He does more enjoying the aroma and the heat of his food, at first, rather than properly eating it. He grunts, approvingly, at the detailed follow up dish. "What even is retirement anymore?" he asks. "I mean, short of having enough money for a couple decades and the expectation of real death." He doesn't say it bitterly - but with a kind of cynical amusement. And finally, he sets his beer down and cuts into the Yellowtail - pairing with with some jalapeno for a taste.

* * *

Kagami looks at his plate. "For them it was moving to a small house on an outer world and becoming farmers. They wanted the simple life and now because of me my dad will stay the ICU peds doctor and my mom will prosecute the guilty." He cuts his fish before slathering on the jalapeno. He takes big bites and purrs quietly. "They just couldn't allow their only child to die. If it were up to me, I'd tell them to retire." He grumbles.

* * *

Welch laughs a bit, before he finishes chewing his food - before he swallows down the Yellowtail and jalapeno. He shakes his head. "Farmers?" he asks, incredulous. "Fuck. How boring would an eternity of that be?" he adds. Washes down his bite with the pale ale. No complaints about the food at all. "Don't shoot the messenger, now. But if they chose infinite manure over their, that'd be a gross insult."

* * *

Kagami growls a little and steps on Welch's nice shoes with his socked foot. "It's happiness for them. Isn't that all we wish for is happiness? Some respite?" He shakes his head. "I'd be content knowing they chose happiness. It wouldn't be an insult." He shoves the rest of his fish in his mouth and growls a little. "You insult my family and now you owe me more." He points out.

* * *

"Happiness, sure. Respite? That's rest for a moment. Eternity in the mud and shit is some special kind of hell," Welch counters. "And you really think they'd be happy without you?" The way he asks that last question makes it sound like Welch is genuinely uncertain. But, he hasn't exactly talked family at all. Not his own, anyway. "Fine by me. The work you did should mean a decent payday." He doesn't seem at all phased by the abrasive edges to his personality.

* * *

Kagami turns in his chair, lifting his finger while he finishes what's in his mouth before he speak. "Hell for you." He points out. "They'd be miserable without me but now that I'm their son… they can't even look at me. We call daily but they don't want to see what I look like. They just know I'm not Japanese." He turns and glares. "What if I want hate fucking?"

* * *

"Hell for anyone who doesn't thoroughly enjoy being knee deep in…" Welch gestures - doesn't say 'shit' or 'manure' for the umpteenth time. He might have already caught on to the bit about cross sleeve. The juxtaposition of name and face might also have been telling, as well. There's no surprise in his features about all that. "I'd say you'd be thoroughly disappointed, if on the receiving end. I don't have a lot of hate to muster - spent too much of it already. Maybe a micro-aggression fuck, at most."

* * *

Kagami lifts a finger. "Dreams are dreams." He states simply. "Receiving end? Like me use…it?" He chuckles a little. "Yeah I still sit to pee so I don't have to look at this body. It's very… weird to see myself in the mirror." He grumbles. "Micro-aggression fuck would work." He nods his head and sips more of his water. "This sleeve was weak with spices…damn it. I thought it could handle jalapeno."

* * *

"Even dreams end," Welch retorts. "You haven't yet?" he asks - and yet, even as the words are coming out, he's shaking his head. As if uncertain whether or not he wants an answer to the question that he'd asked. He instead returns to cutting into Yellowtail - a full helping of sauce this time. Glasses clinking off to their left, where salarymen conspire over immature rebellion. "Water won't help spice sensitivity, much," he informs. "You're just washing the spice from those jalapeno seeds around. Try milk. Or beer."

* * *

"They might end but at least my parents can decide when they do." He grumbles. "No!" He leans closer. "It's grumpy. Wrong pants or movements and there is a pinch… what the hell. And after I took that corner in my place too short and the table hit me right there…they are on a time out." He takes the man's beer and takes a sip. He gives it back and grumbles. "I don't even know how you guys do basic things. I want to be integrated but really, why so sensitive."

* * *

The pale ale is bitter, yet refreshing - not quite the dryness of an IPA. It's a milder drink. But generic otherwise. Local swill. And Welch doesn't prove territorial about Kagami taking a sip - and simply takes it back once the other man is done. "I'm happy enough with it all. Maybe because I've never experienced the other side of it. Blessed to not know what I'm missing," he muses, with amusement.

* * *

Kagami orders something in Japanese and bows his head to the man. "I don't know how to use it. Well I know it's uses, I've seen one and I've seen diagrams." He points out. "You don't want to experience the other side. So far, a lot less painful day to day except tables. Beware of tables." He points out as his beer is delivered. "I sometimes forget what I look like so when I try to bring anyone to bed it's for who I was, you know? So if you are straight, I'm sorry."

* * *

"I'll let you know if I ever get the urge to switch sides. You can talk me out of it," Welch states dryly, even as a smirk sneaks in over talk of diagrams. "Don't apologize," he informs Kagami, just before he finishes off that second beer. He already seemed rather relaxed in posture, when he entered the shop - so it might be difficult to gauge if he has a buzz as he orders up a third drink. "It's likely I'll never find an excuse to apologize to you. So, you really shouldn't bother apologizing to me," he explains, further. "Not that I'm wholly straight, or anything."

* * *

Kagami nods his head. "I will make sure to talk you out of it." He grins slightly. "Just because you are the way you are doesn't mean I have to be." He points at the man. "Thank god you aren't. I hope this sleeve is at least some what appealing." He throws that out there casually as he can. "I wouldn't know what to do if anything were to happen. I was trained well as a woman but dude things?" He drinks his beer.

* * *

Welch nods - a deal made, assurance that he'll be talked out of such a change. "Just telling you that I won't reciprocate on apology. If you still bother." As to whether or not the sleeve is appealing, he turns his head just enough to get a sideways glance - as if he hadn't sized Kagami up, yet, for attractiveness. "Sure," he assesses. "What made this sleeve more affordable for your parents then a closer match?" he asks, as the question comes to mind.

* * *

The techy shrugs. "That's fine." He grumbles out. He nods his head. "Well that's good to know. Haven't really looked at my face to see." He sighs quietly. "They ordered a Japanese female with special augmentation. So…this sleeve could handle the augmentation and no female could in their inventory." He frowns a little and then grins as their surf and turf is delivered.

* * *

"So, rather than inform your parents of the change, the techs just resleeved you to a technical fulfillment of contract," Welch assumes. And as the surf and turf is being delivered, he pays another glance over at the conspiring duo - one of them, on their feet, drunkenly trying to put their jacket back on. Stumbling to the amusement of his friend. "Makes sense. In a corporate kind of way," he admits, as he lets his attention return to meal and Kagami, both.

* * *

The man grumbles. "Oh I was shown to them and my mother cried and then I was woken up. They took me to my place and said 'Just calls for a while.'" He takes one of the vege's and eats it quietly. "I peaked myself in the mirror and couldn't keep looking. All the mirrors in my house are covered. I really only see myself like this…" He glances down and pats his stomach. "I remember having to watch what I ate so it didn't go to my hips but this body… it's lost weight in the two weeks I've had it. I don't know what I'm doing wrong."

* * *

"Rough," is Welch's initial comment on the issues of family. "You have to adjust, or do you plan on not staying as you are in the near future?" he asks, instead of delving into pity or visible sympathy. The PI seems hardwired against exhibiting much of either. "Not eating enough?" he supplies, as the obvious answer - the differing caloric needs of the sexes. He deviates from eating altogether and idly intakes his third beer.

* * *

Kag shrugs and nods. "I plan on keeping it. It was my parents who paid for it so I can't really jump sleeve you know. That'd be rude. So I'm a guy forever." He chuckles. Then he eyes the man about the eating. "I eat a meal a day! I'm always hungry and I have been stuffing myself with water but I always want to eat something." He grabs more vege's, clearly still watching his calories.

* * *

"If that's a the case, you may want to do your homework. Find out what you need, adjust to being the you that you are now - whatever. Free advice," Welch offers - as if he wouldn't offer so little to anyone on a regular basis. "Either way - I may need help from a tech expert, going forward - whenever I have a case that requires it. I could dig for a specialist. But having, at least, a generalist as a contact? Goes a long way. Still shy about working with the GPPI?" he asks.

* * *

Kag nods his head. "You are right." He eyes the crab meat and slides it over to his little plate. "Wait… did ..never mind." He shakes his head and then looks carefully at Welch before sighing. "If you have a case that's fine but no one else can use me." He points at the man. "I'll be just yours." He nods his head. He shoves the crab into his mouth before he realizes what he said and flushes red, freezing mid chew.

* * *

"Sometimes, as a hunch. Sometimes it takes me enough being wrong to eventually get to right," Welch notes. He plucks some crab meat, himself, and pops it into his mouth to chew and wash down. He gives a solid, definite nod - agreeing to those terms, easy enough. They benefit him, after all. "I'm not out to recruit a guild asset. I don't get paid for that, and I don't run charity. You only ever have to work with who you want to. And if that's me? Suits me perfectly." He lifts his beer to that end, and grins some at the flush of colour, before taking a long swig.

* * *

Something is grumbled under his breath as he chews. To him the embarrassment is real. He bites his bottom lip and takes a little more crab. Yeah he's not looking at Welch anymore. Just keep eating. Drinking and eating. He finishes off his beer rather quickly and grabs some of the steak pieces and starts noming on those. His hands are visibly shaking but he's muscling through. "I'm eating…" He cusses quietly to himself and his flush deepens.

* * *

Welch chuckles to himself, and he stands. Gradually. A least tipsy, with the three cans he's made short order of. He pays - puts in some extra, as well. A tab for the night, for Kagami. Or a subsequent meal. He fishes his own ONI out, afixes it to his wrist, and sends some data Kagami's way, via the proximity messaging function. Contact details. "Let me know how the studies go. Otherwise, guess I'll see you when work comes calling. Good luck, K."

* * *

Kagami sees the meal paid for and grins a little. He sees the contact details flash on his ONI and then turns to looks up at the man. He tilts his head slowly and blinks. He stands up and bows to the man. "Thank you. Hopefully I will see you sooner rather than later." He grins before sitting and starting to finish off the plate. "Be well, Eoin." He speaks softly.

* * *

Welch leaves, heading towards the RP Room Lobby O.