Samantha E. Krosswait's Story

Setting: 1246O Rue Jasmin, Montreal, Canada
Date + Time: 4.19.2kSeventeen 1O:13 P

The trip was short one, passing without so much as a sound, as they turned on to the property and up to the gate. Touching her hand to press flat against a panel, temporarily suspending the current operational status of her security system, the gate opening in front of them. Samantha's eyes went wide, if only for an instant. "Welcome to my place." Yumi greeted, sliding the car into her garage, next to her technologically advanced high performance red racing motorcycle of unspecified make and model with ceramic, twin rotor, two wheel disk drive that she liberated from the Zaibatsu. "Ya hafta be shittin' me, this is yo place?" The girl asked, not sure if all of this was some kind of really sick joke. "Yeah." The woman answered. "No sudden movements, don't try to run. My security in't a fuckin' joke. Other than that, you're free to do what you like." Yumi stopped herself, remembering this girl is an artist. "No spray paintin' my house, any part of it, or anything in it." She explained, getting the point across. The girl snatched her staff, her bag, before speeding off in a rush, dashing through the house.

Glancing to the side at the nigh lifeless form of Brynjolf, the woman thought awhile, lighting a cigarette out of habit placing her rifle on the wall of her workshop. Walking back over to the the shifter, steadily lifting him up from the car, exiting the garage and moving through the inside the house, to one of spare rooms she kept reserved for guests. Laying the man spread out on his back across the open bed, she could hear the girl prowling around wildly through her house.

The Asian was finally able to get a decent look at the man's injuries, where she noticed that even though bleeding had stopped, it was turning black. "While I find the effects of silver on your kind to be fascinating, this looks infected." Yumi spouted, sounding coldly inhuman, in that same moment, the girl, Samantha, appeared stopping outside the do to see what was going on. "Eh, lady, what's 'is dysfunction?" Samantha spat out the words inquisitively in her own simple form of street slang. "The name's Yumi. No need to worry girl, I'm not the wicked bitch of the east." she said, reaching for her messenger pack, before starting the explanation. "He's one of the sunset people, or at least that's what we call them in the east, where I'm from." Samantha stepped in to the room, closing the distant gap that lie between the three of them. "Apart from a severe reaction to silver, there in't much more I know about 'em."

The girl approached the incapacitated Brynjolf cautiously, gazing at him for a time, looking at the fella with a good once over while the woman cleaned the wound. "Eh, 'e looks like shit." The girl remarked, stating the obvious, at the same time she was pointing to the the hole in his side. "Indeed." Yumi said, with a quip of a response. Samantha leaned over at the side of the man's face, speaking in his ear. "Eh, mate. This don't mean I'm cool wit ya or nothin', ya did do me somethin', so I guess I owe ya." The girl spit in her palm, adjusting her position as she slid her tongue over the opening in his side, spitting once more inside him. "Now we even, aight." The girl stood upright, wiping blood from her mouth after she finished.

The Asian just dismissed the whole scene entirely and continued, knowing she would make time to learn more about the peculiar girl later. Applying dried rehmannia laced with ground salvia powder over the tear in Brynjolf's side, then carefully piercing him in specific areas across his form with titanium acupuncture needles, ritually purifying each one with nigori.
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Approximately two hours and thirty minutes passed, when Brynjolf eventually regained consciousness, opening his eyes to see Yumi sitting reclined with legs crossed, quietly rolling the silver coin over her fingers. "Welcome to Montreal, Brynjolf." Her attention fixating solely on him as she spoke the words. "Since it seems you have recovered, rather nicely I might add, thanks in part to the girl." She gave him a smile, though something was off about it, a little unsettling in nature. "Here, you are a guest, in my sanctuary. So many questions, and I would have answers."

"Are you friend, or enemy?" She began, as she phrased the question. "Acquaintance." Brynjolf stated calmly. "Fair enough. So, then, what brings you to Montreal?" Yumi wondered, firing off her next question. "War. We didn't fair very well. It was almost a total defeat." he said in the same tone, looking at her eyes. Suddenly curious of this war he spoke of, ultimately deciding it was a story for another time. "What is your interest in the girl, Samantha?" Her voice went quiet. "A charity to a supernatural other than the Wyrm. It wasn't their fight, but I must ask you. . . What interest do you have in a no tail kitsune cub?" Tilting her head as she listened to the question. "I am paid to do a thing, it is a job, and usually nothing more." Stopping for a moment, pinning the coin between two fingers. "It in't usually this complicated, so now I have become more than just a little interested, which makes me want to get personally involved and find out why so many appear to be after the girl."