MORI, ayuka ◦ Hebigumo Foundation Representative ◦ #804080
“Devadas.” She said the name softly, as if she was devoting it to memory. Her accent was barely there. One had to be listening closely to make out the faint lilt that indicated she had either been born in Japan or grew up in a home speaking Japanese. The name was Hindi in origin. “What gods do you serve?” She asked delicately, her gaze briefly flicking to one of the undead in the room, and then towards one of the politicians. Some people would have called both groups equally bloodsucking. Though the flitting of her gaze was only just noticeable, most likely just picked up by Amalea, who was closer to her than anyone else in the room. The question itself was just a play on the woman’s name, and perhaps indicated that Ms. Mori was not only well dressed, but had a certain level of education to her name - or at least worldliness in her learning.
“A pleasure to meet you as well. Your name slips from the tongue like silk on skin. Beautiful, though not so much as you tonight. Tell me, who did your make up. It’s such a light touch, but enhances your features perfectly.” Like the expressiveness of the redhead’s lips. But Ayuka needn’t fixate. “There are always events like these, everywhere you go. Usually they aren’t so...open to the public. They’re more private, and devoted to catering to the upper echelon of any society in which they take place. Honestly, they’re usually a little stuffy for me. I much prefer the more egalitarian approach Bancroft decided upon this year. I never have been a fan of men who rule over other men, sitting in their high towers, looking down, not understanding or hearing the voice of those over whom they have dominion.” Ayuka herself looked as if she had been to the holiday events any number of times in the past. In fact, if it weren’t for her garb, the ease with which she moved and spoke made it seem as if she might have been at home. Perhaps she was one of those people who was just so comfortable in her own skin, that she never seemed touched by nerves. Regardless of the situation. Or maybe she was just very good at hiding them. Either way, every word was carefully chosen. Every move carefully made. As if she had been given a script of the night in advance and had prepared the part she was to play herself.
“Even if you’ve never been to one of these before, you certainly look the part. That’s half the battle with these things, the other half being confidence. If you look like you belong and act like you belong, then people will know you do. From pauper to prince.” She leaned closer then, as if she was about to squeeze Amalea in a hug, perhaps spurred on by the slight embarrassment she, to an extent, both saw and felt. The hug never happened though, because the pair were soon approached by one of the local members of the city council.
“Ms. Mori! It’s great to see you here tonight. I was worried you wouldn’t be able to make it. I heard the Heibgumo Foundation’s research into the undead has been hitting some roadblocks lately.” Though he didn’t specify what those roadblocks were. Perhaps he didn’t know.
“Oh, councilman Davis, you should know by now that I am never going to turn down a chance at free food and drink. The zombie threat has existed for long enough without resolution that one night is a drop of water in a sea of disappointment.” Ayuka shifted her stance just a little away from Amalea so she could reach for the man’s hand, and give it a shake in greeting. “Rest assured, we at Hebigumo are used to setbacks, and they have never stopped us before.” From there, the chatter trailed off a bit, with Ms. Mori asking the councilman where his wife was, and if she could make a trip out of her sick bed to come and show the cooks how to properly make a risotto bite.
Then councilman Davis walked away, and Ayuka’s attention turned fully once more to Amalea. “Sorry about that. You know how politicians can be. If they don’t think they’re the center of attention…” She trailed off with a grin as she watched the topic of conversation leave, only to be approached by a woman in a form fitting ivory dress. She felt this strange sense of unease wiggle its way under her skin, and her gaze narrowed briefly on the woman. She had an urge to go to her, one that she let simmer under the surface. “As for me, I was born on Okinawa. My father was in the United States Airforce. Much of my youth was spent going back and forth between Japan and the U.S. Neither of my parents were willing to move, so I spent a year with either family. It certainly gave me a more global outlook and made me a polyglot.” She didn’t elaborate on how or why she had come to Harper Rock, though she suspected the nature of her work most likely revealed that anyway.
She felt eyes on herself, and half turned, to catch sight of a woman wearing red. She realized then that those eyes had not been on her, but on the redhead. Albeit briefly. “It seems I’m not your only fan tonight.” She whispered to Amalea. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go bother some more people, and try to get my smile plastered on as many pictures as possible. Unless, of course, you’d like to join me.” The invitation was there. For the moment, there had been an announcement, and Ayuka was a woman on a mission.
She marched right into the sitting room, only to grab one of the holiday masks. Seconds later, she emerged, wearing a red nosed accessory. Yes. It totally clashed with the rest of her outfit. Ask her if she cared.
And then she decided it was time to go and find the woman in the ivory dress she’d seen before. Her footsteps were an announcement all on their own, with the hard clack of the stilletto on hardwood. She waited until just after Davis was out of the way before extending a hand. “Holiday greetings.”
“A pleasure to meet you as well. Your name slips from the tongue like silk on skin. Beautiful, though not so much as you tonight. Tell me, who did your make up. It’s such a light touch, but enhances your features perfectly.” Like the expressiveness of the redhead’s lips. But Ayuka needn’t fixate. “There are always events like these, everywhere you go. Usually they aren’t so...open to the public. They’re more private, and devoted to catering to the upper echelon of any society in which they take place. Honestly, they’re usually a little stuffy for me. I much prefer the more egalitarian approach Bancroft decided upon this year. I never have been a fan of men who rule over other men, sitting in their high towers, looking down, not understanding or hearing the voice of those over whom they have dominion.” Ayuka herself looked as if she had been to the holiday events any number of times in the past. In fact, if it weren’t for her garb, the ease with which she moved and spoke made it seem as if she might have been at home. Perhaps she was one of those people who was just so comfortable in her own skin, that she never seemed touched by nerves. Regardless of the situation. Or maybe she was just very good at hiding them. Either way, every word was carefully chosen. Every move carefully made. As if she had been given a script of the night in advance and had prepared the part she was to play herself.
“Even if you’ve never been to one of these before, you certainly look the part. That’s half the battle with these things, the other half being confidence. If you look like you belong and act like you belong, then people will know you do. From pauper to prince.” She leaned closer then, as if she was about to squeeze Amalea in a hug, perhaps spurred on by the slight embarrassment she, to an extent, both saw and felt. The hug never happened though, because the pair were soon approached by one of the local members of the city council.
“Ms. Mori! It’s great to see you here tonight. I was worried you wouldn’t be able to make it. I heard the Heibgumo Foundation’s research into the undead has been hitting some roadblocks lately.” Though he didn’t specify what those roadblocks were. Perhaps he didn’t know.
“Oh, councilman Davis, you should know by now that I am never going to turn down a chance at free food and drink. The zombie threat has existed for long enough without resolution that one night is a drop of water in a sea of disappointment.” Ayuka shifted her stance just a little away from Amalea so she could reach for the man’s hand, and give it a shake in greeting. “Rest assured, we at Hebigumo are used to setbacks, and they have never stopped us before.” From there, the chatter trailed off a bit, with Ms. Mori asking the councilman where his wife was, and if she could make a trip out of her sick bed to come and show the cooks how to properly make a risotto bite.
Then councilman Davis walked away, and Ayuka’s attention turned fully once more to Amalea. “Sorry about that. You know how politicians can be. If they don’t think they’re the center of attention…” She trailed off with a grin as she watched the topic of conversation leave, only to be approached by a woman in a form fitting ivory dress. She felt this strange sense of unease wiggle its way under her skin, and her gaze narrowed briefly on the woman. She had an urge to go to her, one that she let simmer under the surface. “As for me, I was born on Okinawa. My father was in the United States Airforce. Much of my youth was spent going back and forth between Japan and the U.S. Neither of my parents were willing to move, so I spent a year with either family. It certainly gave me a more global outlook and made me a polyglot.” She didn’t elaborate on how or why she had come to Harper Rock, though she suspected the nature of her work most likely revealed that anyway.
She felt eyes on herself, and half turned, to catch sight of a woman wearing red. She realized then that those eyes had not been on her, but on the redhead. Albeit briefly. “It seems I’m not your only fan tonight.” She whispered to Amalea. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go bother some more people, and try to get my smile plastered on as many pictures as possible. Unless, of course, you’d like to join me.” The invitation was there. For the moment, there had been an announcement, and Ayuka was a woman on a mission.
She marched right into the sitting room, only to grab one of the holiday masks. Seconds later, she emerged, wearing a red nosed accessory. Yes. It totally clashed with the rest of her outfit. Ask her if she cared.
And then she decided it was time to go and find the woman in the ivory dress she’d seen before. Her footsteps were an announcement all on their own, with the hard clack of the stilletto on hardwood. She waited until just after Davis was out of the way before extending a hand. “Holiday greetings.”
