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Log file from Blade's Edge.
Log date: 12/10/99 

Renaissance Pub and Disco
The Pub is a rather high class establishment, strangely modern despite its name, done in all black, marble, glossy  walls and dim tasteful lights. The bar along one side has a back panel of mirrored glass, over which flows a sheen of water, spilling from the top. In front of that are glass shelves filled with bottles of every sort of liquor imaginable. The tables are all high, with tall stools and chairs all done in black wire and metal. A doorway on one side of the room is marked "dance floor", and faint booming beats spill over from beyond, the frosted glass of the doorway occasionally glimmering with assorted lights.
[Exits   : [D]ance Floor, and [O]ut ]
[Players : Mariana ]
[Things  : None ]

Much to Arashi's good fortune, amidst all the liquor that the
 Renaissance Pub had on store, sake was among them. It wasn't the best
 of brands, but it was far from the worst, and very much worth the price
 he paid for it. A hefty price, since it was imported. Imported alcohol
 in an Italian bar. The bartender had even found the right sort of cups
 for him. He was beginning to like this shady little town more and more
 as time progressed.  The solidly-built young man is seated at the bar
 itself, and noticeably alone; for some reason or another, no one's
 deigned to take a seat next to him. Perhaps they just don't like
 foreigners.

If foreigners are frowned upon, then the entrance of the brash young
 woman named Raze is sure to call attention, as she pushes aside the
 bouncer and moves inside, bootheels echoing loudly against the ground
 as she weaves her way through the tables impervious to any catcalls or
 lingering looks she might get. They might dislike foreigners, but she
 certainly doesn't. And she pauses for a moment, eyes lingering over
 your form, one eyebrow raised and a tiny smile flitting over her lips.
 With a tiny shake of her head, her fingers sliding through her tousled
 blue black hair, She eases her way onto the stool beside you, with the
 graceful slinkiness of a panther that has just spotted its prey. "You
 know what I like, Tony," she says with a wink to the bartender, her
 Italian coloured with numerous accents, though the main one seems to be
 from some asian dialect. She rolls her shoulders slightly with a sigh,
 the muscles of her back rippling, before she turns to you, her lips set
 in a small pout. "So aren't you going to hit on me? Or do I have to do
 all the work?"

It's a good thing that the sake is of as good quality that it is. 
 Otherwise Arashi would have spat it out in surprise instead of making
 an effort to choke it down. Though the young woman's exotic beauty did
 indeed earn her more than enough catcalls, he didn't turn to see what
 the source of all the commotion was. Her appearance took him by
 surprise when he casts a sideglance towards her as she takes a seat
 beside him, but he's seen women just as outrageously clad in the
 dirtier regions of Tokyo; it's her words that nearly sent the rice wine 
 spraying. The lines worn into his face indicate that he had been
 brooding before, though now all such thoughts are chased from his mind
 as he eyes the young woman with bemusement and curiousity, his
 composure regained within moments. You didn't see him choke on his
 sake. Really. There's a pause before he answers, then the corner of his
 lips twitches upwards into a wry semblance of a smile. "Good evening."
 And that's all he says. What a lady killer. Not.

Raze shifts in her seat to face you, placing her elbow upon the bar and
 resting her chin upon the palm of her hand, as she watches you with
 amusement within the golden depths of her eyes. She takes perverse
 pleasure in crossing her long, leather clad legs in front of you, her
 fingers drumming against her chin. "You're going to have to do better
 than *that*," she says after you say good evening. The bartender
 arrives with her drink--a vodka on the rocks, but she ignores him for
 now, instead leaning over to you, her mouth close to your ear so that
 you can feel her hot breath against your lobe. "Let me show you." Her
 hand slides down your back, to rest against your ass. "What's your
 name, lover?" Arrogant and oozing sexuality, her teeth close lightly
 against your earlobe, just enough to sting.

The reaction the young woman earns is probably not the one she expects.
 Because Arashi laughs. Not mockingly, but it is indeed with amusement,
 though soft enough not to draw unwanted attention. There's a rich
 quality to his voice, low and deep, but gruff. If one gave a bear or a
 lion the ability to speak, their voice would be the same as his. True
 to his appearance, the young man is built like a rock. And, like a
 rock, he isn't moved easily, not even by the presence of her hand
 against his backside, or the whisper of her teeth against his ear.  He
 downs the last of his cup before replying: "My name.." The cup set back
 on the counter, he reaches around and down to take her hand in his 
 calloused palm and remove it from where it rests, his fingers firm
 around her wrist. He smiles, as if he were buying her a drink instead
 of untangling himself from her. "...is Mitsurugi. Madam."

Raze purses her lips and looks slightly peeved at the rebuffal, pulling
 away with a feline little shrug that looks more like a roll of her
 shoulders, as if to imply apathy to you. "I'm not a madam, I'm a Raze,
 and that's all I like to be called." She pauses then, taking a sip of
 her vodka, and then swirling the fluid around in her glass as if in
 thought. "Well... maybe sometimes bitch is good too." She gives you
 another of those catty little smiles and takes a sip of her vodka
 again, before downing the whole glass and motioning for another,
 seemingly unaffected by the burning liquid, as she pulls out a silver
 cigarette case from seemingly nowhere. She flicks it open and pulls out
 one slim, filterless cigarette, eyeing you with wariness as she slips
 one between her lips. "Got a light, Mitsy?" Already, a nickname is
 affected for you, whether you like it or not seems a moot point. she
 taps the case lightly against the bar's counter, raising an eyebrow as
 she waits impatiently.

Arashi releases her hand the moment he sees that his point has gotten
 across, and returns it to around his now empty cup.  A slight nod
 indicates acknowledgment when the name is offered, his attention
 apparently more fixed on refilling his cup. He has the bottle with him,
 already lacking a significant portion, but he doesn't look in the least
 bit inebriated. A man of high tolerance or endurance, or both. "I think
 I will just call you Raze," he replies after taking a sip of the warmed
 liquid, his brown eyes smiling whereas his lips have resumed a more
 neutral state. An eyebrow darts upwards at the nickname. "Mitsurugi,"
 he corrects patiently, already reaching into his pocket with his free
 hand. "I am called Mitsurugi, or perhaps Arashi..." A smirk is readable
 somehow, though his lips don't so much as twitch. "...though never
 'bitch.'" A lighter appears in his hand, of fine quality brass, though
 without design or decoration. The flame reflects off of the polished
 metal, and in Arashi's eyes as well as Raze's, making the fact that
 he's studying her face quite noticeable. He has met a number of
 attractive foreign women since coming to Medici, but she is the first
 fellow Asian.

Raze seems comfortable with the scrutiny, preening like any cat, as she
 holds her cigarette steadily in the flame of your lighter, then takes a
 long drag, holding the smoke in her lungs for quite a while before
 releasing it to curl and mingle with the hazy lights of the bar. She
 returns your stare measure for measure, but is quite indiscreet in the
 fact that she is staring rather boldly at your torso and your body,
 perusing with interest the muscles and the beautiful build hidden
 beneath your clothes. It goes right past admiring and right into
 ogling, as she hooks the heel of one boot against the rim of her stool,
 and then reaches for her vodka to take another long swig. "So what are
 you doing here, Mitsy?" She says, ignoring your patient exposition upon
 your name. "Here to sample the foreign flavours?" She says with a lewd
 smile that makes it known exactly what she means.

The lighter is clicked off, and the flame dies from Arashi's eyes,
 returning them to their woodsy brown hue.  Whereas she stares at his
 frame, he keeps his eyes riveted upon her face as if entranced, the
 gaze unmoving as he replaces the lighter back in his pocket and lifts
 his own drink back to his lips. "Mitsurugi," he repeats again, quietly
 but firm. A faint smirk finally twists his lips, the first indication
 that her flirtatious overtures are reaching past his rock exterior.  "I
 think you and I are the only 'foreign flavours' to sample here, 
 Raze-san," he comments wryly before sipping his drink. He allows the
 taste to fill his mouth, holding it for a few moments, before finally
 swallowing, clearing his throat. His head cants towards her, his gaze
 still intent, unobscured by the brown-black spikes of hair that fall
 over his brow. He states, bluntly, "You're from Asia."

Raze lets the cigarette dangle from her bloodred lips as you lean
 forward, a seductive and playful little smirk still keeping the corners
 of her lush mouth tilted upwards, the golden depths of her own amber
 eyes reflecting your features within them. She dips a finger into her
 vodka, and then moves to trail that vodka covered finger along your
 lips, as she pulls her cigarette from her lips with her free hand,
 tapping it lightly beside her hip to let the ashes drift to the floor
 unheeded. She blows the smoke into your face now, and the smile widens,
 her eyes flaring lightly as she lets her finger come to rest at the
 center of your bottom lip. "You know... they say the spiciest and most
 delicious dishes come from Asia." Her voice is husky as she speaks, a
 wisp of hair grazing the paleness of her cheek, as she pulls her hand
 away, to trail lightly down along your shoulders, before her hand cups
 your bicep, squeezing testingly. "Mmm, nice."

As your fingertip moves away from his lower lip, Arashi's tongue flicks
 out, a quick flash of red that whisks all traces of vodka away in one
 smooth movement. Other than that, he doesn't react outwardly except to
 close his eyes against the dusty sting of smoke against his face. They
 reopen, but no longer look at your face; the woodsy orbs have lowered
 to study the hand on his arm with a measure of bemusement. Then he
 chuckles again, low and rich, and sips his sake. "Yes," he agrees.
 "They say that." The cup is set down, and the man leans forward towards
 you, the distance closed further, his eyes back on your face. It would
 seem as if he were finally responding to the overtures, except his
 eyes, as they return to your face, are opaque and intense, no trace of
 sensuality except in the play of his lips. His eyes are probing, trying
 to discern your thoughts just by looking at your face. "It makes me
 wonder what a delicious dish such as yourself is doing in this
 unremarkable town so far from Asia."

Raze lets out a husky laugh, still watching you closely without
 speaking, as if carefully thinking over her next words, as she holds
 her cigarette up beside her face in an affected manner and takes a long
 sip of her vodka. She too licks her lips, but in a much slower,
 deliberate manner. She takes a drag from her cigarette and blows it out
 to the side this time, before she raises an eyebrow in response to your
 question. "Well, as wonderful as Asian dishes might be, one sometimes
 gets the urge to sample international cuisine." She gives you a sly
 little smile before uncrossing her legs and sliding forward in her
 stool until each knee is sitting on either side of your own knees, your
 lap between her spread legs. she leans forward and places her hand on
 your thigh. "I've always had a penchance for Japanese..." The hand
 creeps up, upwards, regardless of the fact that this is a rather public
 place. But then with what Raze is wearing, can it be any surprise, how
 bold she is? She's probably unlike any woman you've met, something
 slightly predatory in her smile, as she is in complete control
 of her body, of all her words--a confidence that usually only men hold.

She /is/ unlike any woman he's ever met. The surprise and intrigue just
 barely visible in Arashi's eyes give him away. He's had his share of
 pleasure women and one-night stands in the past, but the women went
 about it in a very different way.  They played the part of the
 submissive, pouty young mistress; the aggressiveness you display with
 your flirtations are something new. It intrigues him, but at the same
 time makes him wary. That too is given away, in the subtle line that
 creases his brow. He shifts, just slightly, beneath the weight of your
 hand upon his thigh. It somehow ruins the cool calm exterior he's
 presenting. "Don't tell me you've come all the way to Italy just for a
 change in menu," he says after a moment, a black brow still flicked
 upwards. Despite the disconcertment the placement of your hand
 provokes, he doesn't straighten back, continuing to lean towards you.
 He has met two young women in this city, both of them foreign, that he
 suspects of having the same goal as he. Though you have yet to give any
 sign of having a weapon on you, simply the oddity of yet another
 foreigner being here is enough to make him wonder. The corner of his
 lips twitches upwards wryly. "Or, after coming all this way, you would
 settle for a humble businessman as myself." Right, like most
 businessmen are built the way he is. At least he's not trying to pass
 himself off as a pool salesman again.

Raze lets her hand continue to move higher since you have yet to stop
 its progress along your thigh.  It grows dangerously close to that
 certain part of you that probably shouldn't be fondled in public, as
 Raze finally extingusishes her cigarette in the ashtray, and then takes
 another sip of her drink, so nonchalant all the while as her hand
 drifts beyond the boundaries of good taste. "Why not? This is a
 vacation town, and I needed a vacation. And I *love* Italian food," she
 says with a bit of a purr in her voice, and it's not hard to imagine
 her as a cat pouncing onto its prey and batting it about before moving
 in for the kill. She leans towards you too, her breath smelling
 slightly of vodka, as she brushes her lips along your jaw, to your ear.
 "If all businessmen in Japan are as sexy as you are, I'll have to make
 sure to make that my next vacation destination."

Just before your hand creeps into the forbidden territory, Mitsurugi's
 is there, fingers once again winding around your hand in another
 unrelenting grip, pulling it away before the venture goes from
 dangerous to possibly embarrassing.  He clears his throat and releases
 her hand once it's been removed, his eyes hardening just a bit, his
 point made without him voicing it. Of course, it remains to be seen
 whether or not the point is taken. His jaw is slightly prickly to the
 touch, a light glazing of hair that indicates a morning or two gone
 without shaving, just dark enough to give the polite, unruffled
 gentleman a ruggedly handsome appeal. The twitch of muscles is feelable
 beneath your lips as his twist into another faint smirk, though this
 one fails to reach his eyes. "You aren't one to.. ah, beat around the
 bush, are you, Raze-san?"

Raze makes an irritated face, even to the point of sticking out her
 tongue, pulling back and draining the glass of the last of her vodka.
 She produces a folded bill and throws it onto the bar, as she pulls
 back and closes her legs to cross them again, giving you a look that
 seems almost challenging you to a fight. "Gods, you're such a
 pussytease," she says with a sound of derision, as she puts back her
 silver cigarette case to wherever the hell it came from, idly tapping
 her fingers against her thigh as if trying to rid herself of the
 annoyance. "And no, I'm fucking not. So listen, do you want to fuck or
 not? Really, you're going to get yourself in trouble one day if you
 lead people on like that." It does sound odd, coming from a woman, the
 same spiel told the world over by men to their recalcitrant
 girlfriends. She frowns again, pursing her lips in a pout of annoyance,
 before lifting her eyebrow in question, waiting.

Arashi can't help it. He laughs. Leaning back, he laughs, and shakes his
 head, echoing your actions as the contents of his cup are thrown back
 as well. "You must forgive me then, if I am teasing you so, for it was
 certainly not my intent." Sh'yeah. Right. "But you were the one that
 came over and grabbed my ass," he points out with a bluntness of speech
 that clashes with the unruffleable etiquette he had displayed up until
 that point. He shakes his head in amusement, studying his bottle of
 sake, as if considering whether or not he should take that next cup. He
 decides against it, instead looking back to you, the curious intrigue
 once more entered his hazel depths, the hardness gone, but not out of
 reach. His smirk shifts, nearly a smile. Now who is the one playing cat
 and mouse? "You smell of danger, my dear.  If I say yes, would you kill
 me in my sleep?"

Raze crosses her arms over her chest, looking less amused by the minute.
 She quirks a brow, her lips slanted in derision, their blood red
 fullness twisted as she shakes her head. "I only put my hand on your
 ass because you made it seem like you wanted it, hon," she says with
 admonition, tapping her fingers against her forearm as she watches you,
 as if trying to decide exactly what to do.  "Actually, I smell of
 expensive french perfume that I bought on the way over here, thanks.
 And if I wanted to kill you, I wouldn't need to wait until you were
 asleep." She gives you a rather feral grin then, revealing slightly
 pointy canines, and amazingly white, even teeth. "I just wanted to fuck
 you. but I couldn't guarantee that you wouldn't keel over dead of a
 heart attack, afterwards, of course." She smirks then, lowering her
 hands to her thighs once more, letting them rest on her knee.

"You could discern all of that by 'Good evening?' I'm impressed."  A
 chuckle whispers in Arashi's eyes, but remains in his throat, giving 
 his voice a pleasantly amused thrum beneath his tone. He keeps himself
 turned towards you slightly, leaning against the bartop with his elbow
 pressed against the counter, rubbing at the stubble of his chin, his
 opposite hand resting midthigh, fingers splayed. "An Italian setting,
 expensive French perfume, a Japanese man-- international flavor,
 indeed." He's teasing, but not mocking, less unsettled by the turnabout
 of the situation. Now the chuckle escapes. "It would take far more than 
 that to kill me." And he means it. A confident man, perhaps even
 arrogant. His eyes once more study your face, intrigued by your
 appearance.

Raze has suddenly grown deathly still. Perhaps you had mocked her once
 too much, perhaps she has merely grown weary of this game. But her eyes
 are unblinking as she stares at you, her lips set in that pout, her
 legs uncrossing merely so she can brace her long, muscular legs on the
 ground and put her hands upon her knees. "Whatever it would take, I
 know I've got it." It's all she has to say, all she's willing to say, a
 brief spark of morbid humour glinting in her eyes only to be replaced
 with the same arrogance you possess, perhaps even more. She is
 certainly a striking creature, as you look at her--a creature, more
 than a woman, with those golden feline eyes, those full red lips, the
 length of her blue black hair. The way her muscles tense and dance
 beneath the white silk of her skin shows that there is more to her than
 just first appearances, but it might be something dangerous to uncover.

Arashi returns the unblinking stare in kind, settling back in his seat
 slightly, a hand waving in the air to motion to the bartender,
 indicating that he is finished with the sake. The bottle disappears,
 and with it the cup, and soon after being placed on the counter, so
 does the money paying for it.  "Do you?" An innocent question filled
 with a million implications. He played the innocent, disinterested
 gentleman earlier; now it becomes apparent that he is anything but. A
 fine actor, or more simply, and more likely, a fine liar. Now his eyes
 travel your body, from the fiery orbs of your eyes to the toes of your
 boots, then up again, doing what he tactfully refrained from doing
 earlier: checking you out. The barest hint of a smile touches his eyes.
 "I do not think so." Smiling opaque eyes study yours once again. Three
 women he has met that he thinks will eventually prove to be his
 opponents. With two of them he played the unwitting tourist; his
 tactics change with the third. Perhaps he's tired of beating around
 the bush. Perhaps it's that intrigue, that interest, that you have so
 kindled inside him. He wants to uncover that dangerous something.
 "You're looking for it as well, aren't you?"

Raze is still, as still as a statue as you study her, and just as
 unflinching and apathetic as you 'check her out.' Even her eyes don't
 shift as she watches you with the same unsettling gaze. "Try me. Come
 on. Let's go out, right now. I bet you I could kick your ass from here
 'til Tuesday." She grins ferally, and then finally leans forward
 slightly like a predator, smelling the scent of its prey. She doesn't
 even bother to answer your question as she waits, literally at the edge
 of her seat, ready to bolt out the door as soon as you agree. "What's
 wrong? Too scared to take on a woman, Arashi?" Your name on her lips
 comes out like a taunt, each syllable pronounced in less than dulcet
 tones, sharp, drawled, to make it sound like something less than
 stellar. Everything, of course, is calculated to make you take up her
 taunts, even the hand that slides out on the bar to move beside you,
 gripping along the edge as if she's ready to pull herself into your
 arms.

"I fear nothing." The statement was not particularly loud, and yet it
 draws notice, eyes in the bar turning towards the pair. The bartender
 pauses in his polishing of glasses. Fellow patrons halt in their
 conversation. For a moment, there is stillness. Then it is gone again
 like the wind, breezing through and disappearing in the returning rise
 of background noise. For a brief moment the situations had been
 reversed. Now Arashi is the rock again, his eyes hard, unflinching.
 Even the smirk upon his lips seems frozen in place.

It doesn't take too long for Raze to give you a smile of invitation
 then, slightly sexual, but more taunting, as she slides off her stool,
 her bootheels clicking once more on the wooden floor. "Then show me
 that you aren't. I want good, hard..." she trails off for a moment,
 giving you a smile, aware of her double entendre, wanting to make sure
 you know that she knows. "..proof." She turns away then so that you can
 see the burning rose tattoo that blooms along her back, covering the
 entire expanse of the shapely and exposed flesh, walking towards the
 pub exit without even so much as looking back to see if you are
 following.

And follow he does. Somewhere between the bar and the exit, the smirk
 dies from Arashi's lips, replaced with a neutral line, his face
 expressionless. His long coat rustles around his legs, his own shoes
 making muffled noises against the floor, lost amidst the beat of music
 in the background. His hands have slipped into the pocketse of his
 jacket, the jacket itself pulled tight around him, as if to hide his
 form. Watching you make your way across the pub, he notes the height 
 difference with a measure of inward irritation. Foreign women are so 
 tall. It will take some getting used to.

[...]

Alleyway
This is a VERY creepy and very dark alleyway. There's garbage strewn
 about from the dumpster in the corner. And it's a dead end too! 
 Yup yup.

Raze leads you into the alleyway, moving inwards towards the dead end
 without any seeming fright, or even apprehension to what's about to
 take place. In fact by the way she moves, the slinkiness of her walk,
 you might just think she was coming back here to fuck your brains out.
 But when she turns around, any doubts would be wiped away, her golden
 eyes glowing slightly like a cat's, a feral gaze affixed upon you, a
 wide smile upon her lips as she juts out her hip and props one hand on
 that hip, waiting for you. "So, show me what you got," she says like a
 prostitute to her john, her eyes moving over your form, and though she
 may have taken a non violent stance, there is a wariness and a
 tenseness to her muscles and her form.

The stiffness had bled from his stance on the way to the alley. Arashi
 had left the pub irritated, but you'd never know by looking at him now.
 The rock has turned to mud, cool and smooth, and liquid enough to slip
 through your fingers, but with enough tangibility to leave behind a
 stain. A soft chuckle escapes him, and he bows, even as he opens his
 jacket. (Hey kid, would ya like to buy a watch?) There, on the inside
 of his jacket, a katana and scabbard. A fine quality katana, not the
 sort you would purchase from a magazine, but handcrafted, forged, and
 probably worth a small fortune. What's he doing in a bar with a sword
 inside his jacket? And, more importantly, how the hell does a
 businessman, even one as powerfully built as he is, learn to sit at a
 bar with a sword in his jacket without security blinking twice? The
 sound of metal upon metal slices through the air of the alleyway as he
 draws the sword from its sheath, leaving the side of his jacket to
 swing heavily once he releases it. Light dances off of the steel shine
 of the blade. He doesn't say anything though, staring at you with
 remarkable impassiveness, only the faintest hint of a smirk on his
 lips, just like before.

There is a brief glint of surprise, and some grudging respect on Raze's
 part, but besides the quick movement of expressions over her face,
 these are quick to pass back to blaseness and feral intensity, as she
 shifts, and moves to stand with her legs wide apart, her balance
 equally spread. "Well, that's a mighty nice katana you have there," she
 says, licking her lips. "You probably spent a small fortune on it. 
 Didn't know many businessmen carried those around in Japan, now I'll
 most *definitely* have to go for a visit." She grins again, slyly.
 "Well, since you showed me yours, I guess it's my turn to show you
 mine." She bends over at the waist, her legs straight, her hair
 tumbling forward for a few seconds until there is a flash of light as
 her own weapons catch the glint of light. From tucked into the sides of
 her boots emerge a pair of sai, meticulously crafted themselves, but
 obviously the woman who owns them has used them many times before. She
 twirls them with expert hands, until both of the long shafts are facing
 outwards, towards you, and she crosses them for a few moments, before
 she twirls them again, grinning all the while as she gives you her
 little show. It's *her* turn to smirk now, and that she does, arrogance
 plain on her feline, striking features, as she licks her lips
 lavisciously again--this time the movement smacks of aggression and
 danger.

The light continues to dance off of the silvery steel of the blade as
 Arashi spins it, first on one hand, then on the other. He might seem as
 if he's showing off as well, but in truth he's simply warming up,
 waking his hands up. Swordfighting before your body's ready for it is
 usually a good way to sprain something. "Sai," he says after a moment,
 a touch of irony to his amusement. "The same weapon that the commonfolk
 used to wield against the marauding samurai. How apt." He too is
 impressed, watching the two weapons sing in your hands, the smirk
 unfading, yet somehow milder than before. His hands move to the handle
 of the katana, his feet sliding across the garbage-slickened ground,
 spacing themselves... And then, without preamble, the swordsman  is
 suddenly coming towards you with sword slashing. A diagonal strike,
 aiming from your waist to your opposite shoulder. If he were coming
 hard, it would be an attack vicious enough to cleave you in two, but
 his intent right now is nothing more than a simple flesh wound.

Raze smirks back, obviously amused by your snobbishness. "There's a lot
 to be said for simple peasantfolk and other such 'trash'," she says as
 she twirls the sai again, this time to place the long shafts parallel
 with her forearms, crouching down slightly, waiting for you to attack
 as she knows you will. Her own rubber bottomed soles are planted firmly
 to the cement, her eyes following your movements as you strike, and she
 shifts to lift a hand to block the relatively light blow, as the other
 one shifts upwards, to try to knock you out with the combined force of
 her arm and the hard steel of the sai, aimed rather viciously at your
 nose. The force of your blow is still enough to make her slide
 backwards somewhat, the black rubber making track marks along the
 cement from the friction, though she manages to hold her ground as you
 push at her with your blade.

"I never said there wasn't," is grunted out amidst the clang of steel as
 katana meets sai. Fast, but not remarkably so, Arashi does have one
 thing on his side: strength. The solidly built form you had admired
 earlier lives up to the picture it depicts, the force of the steel
 against steel enough to send the weapons screaming at the air,
 fingernails against a chalkboard. Sensing the movement of your other
 hand out of the corner of his eye, Arashi is forced to jump back again
 or risk a broken nose, the pressure and his presence darting backwards
 as quickly as he came forward. Two weapons against his one? Hrm. The
 sword is held at ready in front of him as he chuckles dryly, hoarsely,
 his hazel eyes watching you. "Impressive," is commented as an aside.

What Raze lacks in strength, she makes up for in speed, and in cunning.
 She pulls back her fist quickly when you avoid the threat of her fist
 and her sai coming towards your face. She gives you a grin when you
 admit to her abilities, and shakes her head, as if mockingly. "You
 ain't seen nothin' yet, gringo," she says, copying those cowboy movies
 of old, as she hooks the toe of her boot into a rusted old tin can, and
 flings it towards you as a decoy, and then attacks low, aiming one of
 her sai towards your knee as the other one is kept upwards as
 protection in case you decide to take her out. Her body is bent and
 slithered, as the foot that kicks upwards to launch the poor can moves
 down and bends, like a lunging panther, a growl on her lips as she
 thrusts her fist out to strike.

Arashi falls for it. Switching to hold the sword with one hand, he snaps
 the other hand in the air, smacking the can out of the way, letting it
 clang off the near wall and rebound into a pile of garbage.  It's pure
 reflex that saves him from getting his knee dislocated; his katana 
 jerks downwards, catching the sai before it connects, but the hold is
 uncertain, being only one handed and with his off hand at that. Arashi
 isn't ambidextrous, and he used the hand he's most used to when he
 slapped aside the flying can. Precious seconds are wasted ascerting
 his grip, his strenght slow to kick in until both hands grip the
 handle. Then, unable to attack directly, he instead pushes back on the
 sai violently, trying to knock you off-balance.

Raze lets out a loud curse when you block her sai, but not one to be
 outdone and outmaneuvered, she lifts her other hand, hooking her fist
 behind your knee to try to pull you off balance, using your own fulcrum
 and force of gravity as you push against her against you yourself,
 trying to get you to fall backwards. After a few moments she too is
 shoved back, onto her ass, and she winces but quickly rolls over to get
 back on her knees, and then on her feet, advancing towards you. "You're
 good, you're fast, but you aren't fast enough, lover," she says with a
 purr. "At least you got stamina."

"Chikushoume!" The snapped vulgarity echoes off the walls, just before
 Arashi topples back as well, his knee giving away against the pressure
 of your fist and bringing him down. Once again his sword is left to a
 one-handed grip as the other hand slaps out against the concrete,
 saving him from smacking his head against it. He rolls to his  feet as
 quickly as he can, but not quick enough; you're already approaching by
 the time he has his sword back in both hands, his legs bent so that he
 kneels somewhat, the same position a man takes when asking a woman for
 her hand in marriage, except instead of a ring he holds a sword. Not
 having time to regain his footing and his bearings, the man stays low,
 looking up at you with a terrible grin. "We shall see," is all he says,
 rotating his wrists slightly so that the blade faces horizontally, then
 slashes an arching sweep in front of him as you approach, aiming for
 your knees.

Raze moves with speed, trying to close the distance, but pauses,
 midstep, lurching when you swing your sword towards her knees. Then, a
 not altogether sane light in those golden eyes, she lets loose with a
 crazed, husky laugh, her chest heaving with the strain of the fight.
 Rather than coming to a full stop and blocking the arc of the blade
 with her sai, she uses the velocity that she's gained to propel
 herself in a jump, her arms crossed in front of her, jumping over your
 blade to try to ram right into your shoulders and knock you down. A
 suicide leap, certainly, and not something any sane person would
 attempt, but if you hadn't guessed already, Raze is far from sane, and
 it must have been something you picked up on already from the bar.

Indeed. Arashi is not all together surprised when his blade slices air.
 He is, however, /quite/ surprised when he's suddenly being plowed into
 by a full grown, sai-wielding woman. So surprised is he that he doesn't
 even have a chance to think long enough to get out of the way. The
 swordsman falls, his back striking the ground hard, the wind knocked
 out of him in a harsh release of breath against your face.  But though
 he can't breathe, he long ago developed the ability to react without
 thinking, and that's possibly the only thing that saves him. His
 fingers release his sword, abandoning it to freefall, clanging against
 the ground. Then strong arms sweep from both sides to try and bearhug
 you to him, perhaps to literally crush the life from your form, 
 except, if he gets that far, the next thing he'll try is to roll both
 of the two fighters over, so that he'll end up on top with her beneath
 him. Providing her sai don't get to him first. If he gets that far.

Raze doesn't waste time, after all, though the initial impact did hurt
 quite a bit, you cushioned her fall for her, and she was braced for the
 feel of flesh hitting flesh, her arms held out in front of her. As the
 sword lands to the ground with a clatter, she pulls her hands from in
 front of her face and places one hand on either side of you as she
 extends a leg, looking back to kick the sword away to send it scuttling
 towards the darker shadows of the alleyway, before she is held in your
 grip, gasping to feel your strong arms wrapped around her body, though
 her arms remain free. Now while being held this way by a virile man
 such as Arashi might normally be exciting, getting the life crushed out
 of one is not, and thus Raze lets out a grunt of anger, and wraps her
 legs around your waist as you roll her over onto her back, using her
 own strong leg muscles to try to crush the breath out of you as well,
 her thighs clenching and abdomen tightening as she does so. The sai are
 still in her hands, and she lifts up her hands, grunting out in a
 breathless voice, "give up, you know you've lost..." the husky sound
 comes out like a sigh, as she arches and bucks against you, her legs
 still wrapped around your torso.

Again, a growled vulgarity, except now it comes from between gritted
 teeth as Arashi must focus upon keeping his arms firmly knotted around
 your form as well keep himself breathing, since such a simple act has
 become quite complicated by the strong legs encircling his broad frame.
 Hazel eyes flashing -- with anger? with menace? somehow, it is neither,
 yet it holds their ferocity, their blind determination -- he manages to
 hiss out through his teeth, "Not yet." He still has time before the
 lack of oxygen makes his vision blacken. Going as slack against you as
 he possibly can, literally laying atop you, he tries to use his weight
 to keep you down while his arms unwind, hands snapping out in awkward
 tries for your arms, to pin them down and hopefully /keep/ them down,
 and keep the double threat your sai pose at a minimum.

Raze continues to tighten her hold on your form, her legs threatening to
 squeeze the very breath of life from your body as her thighs press
 against your sides, her abdomen pressed against your diaphragm as she
 thrashes madly, hands hard to get a hold of since she's moving them
 around so much. "I could stab you right now and you couldn't do shit
 about it," she says with a growl, thoguh she too is out of breath,
 strain in her voice from your heavy form draped over her much lighter
 one.  "Just give the fuck up, you stupid Japanese pencil pusher!" You
 manage to knock one of her sai away, sending it flying, but
 unfortunately, all it does is free up one of her hands so that she can
 attack again, not one who is adverse to using girlish maneuvers if they
 would be effective in a fight. Her long red fingernails move to scratch
 your cheek, and failing or not failing to do that, moves then to yank
 hard on your hair, pulling back even as she holds her hand way up out
 of your reach, so you can't take your last sai. "Give up, give up!"

Arashi isn't looking to knock your sais away; he's looking to grab your
 hands  and force them to the ground. You can't stab him if your hands
 are plastered to the ground. The fact that one actually gets knocked
 away is pure luck, or at least that's how he intreprets it. Then the
 sharp pain of fingernails rake across his cheek, and he jerks back just
 before they get deep enough to scar, a sharp cry squeezing out between
 his teeth, cut off abruptly when the pain transfers to his scalp, his
 thick black hair going taunt as its yanked.  "You fight like a woman,
 Raze-san," he wheezes, darkness beginning creeping in on the edges of
 his vision, but pride, woefully stubborn pride, keeps him fighting,
 keeps him from admitting defeat. His breath, through quickly
 shortening, is hot against your face, his hazel eyes wild with rage,
 but not yet lost.  Blood drips from the grooves clawed into his cheek,
 splattering against your face. He's still thinking, still trying to
 find a way out. When he realizes he can't capture your hands, one
 braces on the ground beside the pair for balance, and the other slips
 to the outside. His attack, admittedly desperate, comes from that hand, 
 a ridgehand to your elbow. If it succeeds, he'll probably lose hair
 with it, but better that than defeat at the hands of a woman.

Raze twists her body, bucking against you, though she too is beginning
 to get tired, her legs showing a little less strength than they
 formerly did. She takes a deep breath, and redoubles her efforts, one
 last ditch effort, squeezing tighter and harder than before with the
 last push of her strength. She retains her tight grip to your hair,
 pulling and yanking, as she grins into your face, her feral laughter
 seemingly echoing through the alleyway. "I fight like an animal, I do
 what I have to and fuck all if it means looking like a 'tard." Your
 chop to her arm makes her grunt and jerk, and her hand does indeed fall
 away from your hair, taking a huge clump of hair along with it. It
 probably forces your head to recoil forwards and knock right into
 Raze's, or else the woman just proves to you how animalistic she is, by
 moving her own head up to bash against yours, trying to further your
 unconsciousness by knocking you out. "Fucking give up already! You're
 starting to piss me off," she growls, knowing that she too soon will be
 too weak to put up a good fight.

Spots begin to swim in Arashi's vision, worsened with the collision of
 heads, bright painful spots that dance in his head like sparks of fire.
 Not daring to waste what little air he has left to snap back with a
 witty rejoinder, it instead is forced out with that final squeeze of
 your legs, a harsh blast of air snorted through his nose. The bright
 spots fade to a quickly dominating blackness, but he still doesn't give
 up. Not yet. His thoughts are rapidly losing their coherency, and it
 shows, as his blind stubbornness bleeds into his eyes. It's all that
 keeps him going-- that, and his stamina. Otherwise he'd have passed out
 long ago, though he's dangerously bordering on doing so anyway. He
 doesn't even have time to mourn the loss of hair; once your hand is
 free, he braces both of his hands against the ground and pushes UP. Not
 to try and break free of your legs -- they're too strongly entwined for
 that -- but for leverage, his hands trying for your shoulders blindly.
 His voice reduced to the hoarsest of whispers, he forces out, "I don't
 care if you beat me, I'm not going to give up."

Since you didn't expect to break free, then it must come as a surprise
 as you do, Raze suddenly unwinding her leather clad long legs from your
 form, letting them sit, spread with her knees up as she falls back on
 the cement, panting, with her eyes closed. "Oh for fuck's sake. You
 win." She pants some more, her grip on her sai weakened, until she
 opens her eyes again, or at least one eye, to fix you with a curious
 glare. "I coulda beaten you, you know." It's a mere observation of
 fact--any and all ferocity and anger has bled from her form, or rather
 vanished--quickly, without a trace, as if it hadn't been there at all.
 If the sudden change of moods takes you unawares, then Raze's sudden
 quick kiss to your mouth must take you doubly by surprise,  as she
 struggles to push herself up so she can prop herself up on her elbows,
 her chest rising and falling as she pants. She doesn't make any move to
 push you away from resting between her legs, seeming to quite enjoy the
 position, even as she continues to suck in great gulps of air. It's
 hard to imagine the woman who looks at you so seductively now, is the
 same one that tried to strangle you into subconsciousness only a few
 moments ago, save that she's got some strands of your hair still
 tangled in her hand.

It does indeed come as a surprise, and Arashi is so busy sucking air --
 beautiful, beautiful air -- that he almost doesn't hear your admittance
 of defeat. Arms shaking with exhertion, fingers knotting into the
 concrete, he just wheezes, not even arguing when you state that you
 could have beaten him. He wouldn't have argued anyway, might have even
 agreed. Arashi will never give up, but he'll admit defeat when he's
 defeated. It's just getting him to think that he's been defeated that's
 difficult. He starts to heave another huge breath, to convince his
 lungs that yes, he can breathe again, but then you kiss him and his
 mind goes blank.  His thoughts were already scrambled by the lack of
 air; the abrupt change of moods is too sudden for him to comprehend. So
 he's left like that, suspended over you, just staring at your face
 blankly. Until he blurts, "...What was that for?"

Raze's breathing comes easier now, especially now that you aren't
 actually lying on top of her but propping yourself up. Her other sai
 remains discarded, her focus upon you rather than on her fallen weapon,
 as she gives you a flirtatious little smile, and leans forward, this
 time to draw her tongue against your lower lip, licking you and tasting
 you, before pulling back again, to gauge your reaction. "You just look
 so cute, panting and heaving like that, as if you just had one hell of
 a hot fuck session." She grins, watching to see how her words will
 effect you, curiously, her head tilted to one side like a cat's. She's
 probably got some serious scratches along her back from being rubbed
 and grinded against the pavement so much, but she doesn't seem to mind,
 all smiles and sexual banter now that the fight is over.

An incredulous look smoothens across Arashi's face as his lips are
 tasted. They're salty with sweat and tanged with blood, the slightest
 bit having run over from the grooves clawed into his cheek, the angle
 convienently set just right.  His reaction is surprise, and a typical
 'I can't believe you just did that' expression painted across his
 chiseled features. It isn't exactly a common practice to be seduced  by
 your opponent after nearly suffocating each other in a fight. "I..."
 His brain is still blank; no responses come to him, so again he's left
 staring at you like a big dumb idiot. Then coherency finally returns to
 his eyes, and he laughs, a hoarse sound since his lungs still aren't
 quite convinced that they can breathe yet, but no less genuine. "You...
 You are the oddest woman I have ever met," he confesses. The words
 somehow seem like a compliment, as if being odd were a good thing, a
 source of curiousity and intrigue, something that he has never seen
 before.  One of his hands lifts from the ground, the other keeping him
 propped up, and brushes fingertips against your face,  trailing down
 the slope of your nose, tracing the shape of your lips.

Raze seems to find it quite adorable, your speechlessness and your
 seeming inability to understand the shifts of her mood. Of course, the
 fact that you *almost* beat her in a fight (like she'd ever admit
 defeat) certainly raises her estimation of you, so that she lets out
 another husky laugh, when you tell her she is the oddest woman you have
 met. She gives you a playful wink before dropping her other sai and
 lifting her hand to brush your hair from your face a bit more gently
 now, pushing it away from your temples to gently follow the line of
 your brow with her thumb, then sliding down to hover over the slight
 scratches on your cheek, not touching, merely hovering over the skin.
 "Thanks," is her reply, and a sincere one at that, as she looks at you
 with rather seductive eyes when you run your fingers down to her lips.
 She parts them and takes them lightly into her mouth, biting on the
 pads of your fingertips, just enough to make them sting, always keeping
 her eyes on your face. She lets them go merely to speak again. "You're
 not so bad yourself, Mr. Arashi Mitsurugi." She drops her fingers then
 to the collar of your shirt, to pull you down, her mouth parting as she
 attempts to kiss you fully.

This time Arashi goes willingly, the cool disinterest and
 'pussyteasing,' as you so eloquently referred to it as earlier,
 banished from his response. Both hands splay their fingers against the
 cool concrete as he allows himself to be pulled down into the kiss,
 breath warm against your face until it vanishes into your mouth. Though
 not a lady's man by any means, he's a man who has kissed before, and
 does so with experience (though this is the first time it's ever been
 on the ground in an alleyway), gently at first, then progressively
 harder, perhaps to see just how far you'd let  him go with it.
 Weaponry, even the dull metal weight of the scabbard in his jacket,
 forgotten for the moment, his blood still boiling from the fight though 
 his mind has regained coherency, his body heat rises with the closeness
 and intimacy of the scene, arousal beginning to send electric shocks
 through his system.

Raze's hands both rise to grab fistfuls of the materials of your shirt,
 using you as a handle as she kisses you, her mouth open, her tongue
 boldly moving into your mouth, to meet yours and tease it with gentle
 flicks and swirls of her own. She is electric, her body arching upwards
 lightly even as you kiss, propelled by her boots and her raised knees
 as she shifts, pressing herself against you even here in the alleyway
 like a cat in heat. The kiss goes on seemingly forever, and though
 you're both deprived of air, this time, it's a voluntary condition. She
 breaks the kiss first, and then draws her tongue along your lips again,
 before keeping her hands wrapped up in fistfuls of the fabric of your
 shirt, trusting that your strength will be enough to keep both you and
 she upright. She pauses then, to meet your eyes from this close
 distance, her own breath hot against your mouth, her golden eyes
 meeting your own brown ones. "You feeling dangerous tonight, Arashi?"
 The words are spoken against your lips, hot, like a caress against your
 fevered skin, your name this time a purr on the lips of this feline
 creature that clings to you. She turns her face then, to draw her
 tongue lightly against one of the scratches along your cheek, tasting
 your blood.

Electricity turns to lightning until the shared body heat between the
 two is nearly palpable. Despite his exhaustion, a second wind of sorts
 hits Arashi, leaving him more than capable of supporting them both.
 Though he'll later wonder what the hell got into him to lose it so
 fully that he forget his surroundings and the probable danger of being
 caught thusly in the alleyway, he doesn't seem in the least bit
 inhibited, eating at your mouth until you break away. His eyes blink
 open at that, not even having realized that he closed them, and stare
 back just as intently, their brown hue flecked with green like a
 forest.  Perhaps just the sort of forest that a wildcat would go
 romping in. "Yes... I do believe I am," he responds in a low rumbling
 tone, arousal deepening his voice, making it gruff. The flame of your
 own golden eyes is reflected in his, a forestfire amidst the woodsy
 colours. His blood is thick and tangy, no determinable taste  except
 for an odd bittersweetness that can't quite be pinpointed, lingering in
 the back of your mouth long after you think it's been washed away.

Raze laughs, huskily, her lips returning to brush against yours, one
 hand rising to cup your uninjured cheek as she presses small kisses to
 your mouth, tiny ones like a kitten licking its owner's face, the
 kisses interspersed amongst her words: "So, are you gonna fuck me here,
 surrounded by the smell of spoiled garbage, or are we gonna go to the
 hotel next door?" There is a trace of humour in her voice, as she's
 quite aware you've completely forgotten where you are. She hasn't,
 however, retaining some semblance of her mind though her own arousal
 sits like a lazy ball of heat between her legs, palpable through the
 slick leather at her crotch, as you press against her. She licks your
 mouth again, as her hand slides down your cheek, to your shirt again,
 but not grabbing the material, rather sliding over the bulges of your
 pecs, the taut, ridged muscles of your abdomen. "I want you to fuck me.
 Are you man enough to do it?" Another challenge, issued, followed this
 time by another deep kiss, her tongue swirling against yours, eagerly.

Now really, what kind of chance is that? How could Arashi possibly come
 up with a coherent response when he's too busy relishing the sweet
 taste of your lips pressed against his? He doesn't allow himself to be
 lost again though, responding back for a few moments, then pulling away
 with a half-laugh rolling its way from the pit of his  chest, a
 pleasant thrum beneath your hand. "They say that the spiciest and most
 delicious dishes come from Asia," he growls, low and deep, through the
 smile pulling at his lips. "The day I am not man enough to sample a
 dish such as you, I will give you that sword." He leans in again, just
 close enough to brush noses with you, his eyes still intent  upon
 yours. Then, quick as that, he pulls away again and off, pausing a
 moment to get his bearings, then rising to his feet. He is suddenly
 grateful for his long coat; just before he pulls the ends of it around
 him, his own arousal is briefly apparent in his groin. Once that is
 taken care of and hidden, he smirks faintly and offers you his hand to
 help you up, an eyebrow arched.

Raze laughs delightedly at your rememberance of her words, her eyes
 flaring, eyebrows shooting up. "Well, I find I've got a taste for
 japanese, to expand my exploration of the international cuisine," she
 whispers in that husky, womanly voice, brushing her nose against yours
 before stand, she still laying there, and then holding out her hand to
 grab onto yours to stand up. She lets herself 'fall' against you
 momentarily, and though she is taller than you, her body fits nicely
 against yours, her breasts right near your face. She looks down with a
 bit of a grin, before pulling away and turning around to collect her
 sai from the ground, tucking them back into her boots, giving you a
 nice view of a leather clad rear end and another glimpse at the
 complicated rose tattoo, that has been marred with scratches, some
 pink, and some bloody, but the woman complains naught as she stands
 once more, and then quirks a finger at you, beckoningly. "Let's go, hot
 stuff."

Arashi's grip is firm and strong, but not hard, as he grasps your hand
 and helps you up. His other hand briefly plays against your back,
 tracing the line of spine and shoulderblades, for the brief moment
 you're pressed against him. The fact that his fingertips come back
 slightly bloody doesn't seem to bother him -- he was, after all, the
 reason that the scratches are there -- but he studies the spots of
 crimson with a moment of bemusement.  Retrieving his own sword and
 resheathing it with the sound of metal sliding against metal again
 echoing off the surrounding walls, he's not above enjoying the view you
 present, his eyebrows slowly arching with frank admiration. He chuckles
 softly when you turn, his voice slightly thickened, but no less gruff,
 his woodsy eyes alive. "Lead the way, madam," is his reply, accompanied
 by a jerk of his head and a half-grin, the sword and scabbard invisible
 beneath his coat once again.

[end log.]