The Bat and the Snake [Goro+ST]

There’s a few different ways to live out your life. There’s the cautious dull way; looking behind your shoulder and glancing at each corner out of fear. As if someone is out to get you. Paranoia. There’s the obsession to follow either someone or something, some sort of ideal perhaps. To place your whole being into it, no matter if it’s right or wrong. There are those with no such drive; they are aimless, lost, confused. Cling onto other ideals or people and allow themselves to be absorbed into it, nothing more than a separate monotonous extension of it. Then there are those who are the thrillseekers. Each day you must consider yourself that it may be your last, if only so you can go full out and do whatever you can. Take it all for yourself. Entertainment. Money. Lives. Power. It’s all yours if you know the right people, so go out and get them.

A man with a long punk rock-like coat stands among a small group, discussing some stuff with fellow Terminal outgoers. This place overall is currently the boom of public activity. More people to talk to. More acquaintances to discuss certain issues with. Perhaps to get into certain...job details. Once the issue passes and they begin to talk about other subjects, he quietly bows out, looking for other groups to make acquaintances. But not before leaving them behind a card of his info. Easy to call him, hard to track back. A nice number to have. After he repeats this process several times, he leaves out of the current building and walks out in the night. A drunken man stumbles out in the open, bumping into to a red haired tall lean figure with a bump on his back. He stops as the drunkard continues stumbling. And then he stopped stumbling. He instead started to shake and convulse, with weird purple veins emerging on his skin, then slowly fading out. Choking on his own spit perhaps. Many drunk people do that. He lies on the ground with mouth agape, as the red haired man walks further ahead in the distance, with something quickly retracting from under his coat

The bar is nothing more but a quick pit stop for him. He just has to take a quick break. Perhaps take a small drink up here. Perhaps take up one of his several idols’ favorite drinks. Could be quite the experience. He looks around for the bartender, who appears to be hiding something beneath that dark brown winged shroud of his. Wings that seem..quite familiar. Fondly familiar. He smirks as he removes his hands from his coat as he walks up aside of the winged compatriot, asking for a drink. If he moves slightly, perhaps he can see whatever outfit he’s wearing.

If he did, he’ll start laughing.

“Odd choice of drink. You saving yourself for something later?" He comments dryly with a slight smirk on his face, while glazing over the wings. It looks familar, which one of his 'idols' have these wings? The mind is fickle. It'll take him a while to remember it, but for now...this guy seems interersting

He lets out a small chuckle. “I can understand. The night is young, easy to waste away if you’re not too careful.” He continues to eye at the wings, graciously presented to him by way of not wanting to expose his ridiculous Hawaiian shirt. Among the list of names he has burned down his memory, which one had these sort of wings? The features on them are clearly bat related. It’s plain as the eye can see. Could it be that one obscure assassin he often uses for material? Hmmm...no, he wasn’t a bat mutation. Disregarding the aesthetic, no bat features were present. Perhaps it was that one niche one time criminal who claimed they drank bat blood, and claimed their quirk grew from that. But that was different than this: these wings are just somehow familiar to him, but he just can't put his finger…

Until it hit him. Of course. One of his favorites. Up there with the current head honchos and the past legends. He may have been underground for the majority of his reign, but to him, it was a fantastic period of crime and style that can never be recaptured in today's climate. He had wings as well. And wouldn't you know...they look oddly like this stupid nerd's wings. What with his weird hawaiian shirt.

"Sorry to ask you, but has anyone told you that your wings look like...hmm..." He quietly shakes his drink. "Have you ever heard of the exploits of the man known as Xenovader?"

God what a great gimmick. Well, it's not that his overall theme WAS a martian. it was just that whatever he says or does, he just does all that shit without caring. A sense of...displeasure to the world itself fueled their actions. Simple killing, lavish assassinations, all in all done with such flair and arrogance that one cannot say they were not having fun from it. Gleeful arrogance. Killing anyone who deserved it. Truly the mark of a wonderful villain.

(This was all from the lens of this 'fanboy,' mind you. No one really knows what this supposed Xenovader actually thought of while performing these murders. For all they knew, they could have been targeting specific people for some minor detail.)

"Hoooh, I see you have some taste then..." He chuckles a bit witnessing the horrible glory that was Goro's hawaiian shirt. Then again, he was wearing a garish red coat. "Yes I have met him...once, twice. You should have seen him in action. A lowly worker, wasting away until this figured dropped and killed all but 5 people? Then simply waved his hand and walked away...Ahahhaahaha..." he softly chuckles a bit more. "I then killed that worker and the rest after watching from the outside. Xenovader just passed by me. He knew what I did. And all he did was let out a soft laughter, then flew off. The wings he used remind me of yours. More details on his. More scars on yours oddly enough." He grabs his drink and slightly shakes it. "Maekawa at your service. I suppose then you also hold an interest for the greats. For those who want to shake up the status quo, hmm?"

He lets out another laugh: the excuse of many when they are seen wearing what is clearly a horrid sense of fashion. Xenovader or Thundershock or any other of his 'idols' would never be seen wearing this once in their entire lives. Never. To be wearing something like this would be betraying their sense of style and glory, something that clearly isn't heavily made up in his mind or wasn't fake at all. No no no, to be seen out in public with this shirt either meant two things: They are having a horrible night, or they have reached the point in their career where they have given up any pretense of showing oneself out there in the world. Such a sad fate to see. Especially someone with wings such as these.

"Goro, hmm? I'll keep that in mind." He listens closely to the descriptor he let out. Ah yes, the classic venom technique. Something that he himself has the ability to replicate. He has based off his technique on that one meeting; seeing them stab someone in the back with his extensions then pass by them with no regard to their face or identity or anything: What was the point of getting to know them? They were just trash waiting to be thrown away, something that he feels Xenovader clearly felt about, obviously. "He once used them at once, but he was descending from the ground and regressing his wings, so perhaps there is a limit on how many actions he could and couldn't do at once." He says, drinkinng some more.

"The texture on the membrane, barring the scars, bears a close similarity to his. Not to mention the shame yours are currently in share the same silhouette as his. Impressive, bat mutations usually don't always share the same shape. I've seen many up close, often times doing...jobs, so to say, but yours comes the closest to his." He turns his attention to the listening bartender. He would be a fool to report on them now, but just in case, he smirks at him to let him know his place. He focuses his attention back to Goro. "Honestly, even if it werern't similar, the fact that you know your history is impressive. If only more knew of his exploits. The last time he has ever done anything of note is long before us, faded away in infamy." He chuckles again. "I doubt he would let this auction go as it is; he'll probably disturb it with some classical music. Chopin and Beethoven were his personal classics, I believe."

"Several. There was one that had the bat wings on their actual arms. The cartilage was quite difficult to infect throughly. Another had more of the typical senses a Bat would had, but he was blind. Made removing him quite easy. And then there was one who merely turned into a bat. Not a human sized bat, but...a bat. It's odd to see that fly around and then struggle around on the ground as it dies in a pathetic animal form." He drinks some more as he reminiscences of those times. "And none of them had that same texture in their wings. Not sure if you got the better deal or not...Hmmm" He looks at his face. Those glasses are for vision right?

"Job, huh? Interesting." Finally, a chance to do some networking. "Contract killer? Info gatherer? Or..." He looks at the wings, bruised and all. "Something else...Mhmmm. Eh, I won't prod more. Nice to see someone else see the massive tragedy being displayed around here." That's right. No unique flair whatsoever. This is too safe. This is too standard for something this scale. For something that should be headlining the news, this is just..barely passable. He sighs as he thinks about it. This is truly just playing safe. Oh sure, it has a great avenue, fancy stuff, people often talking behind the shadows, the usual Shinagawa murdering on the streets...but where's that chaos factor? The one thing that can drive your plans off rails as you just stand in the audience, the spanner in this heavily controlled machine destroying everything you made sure not to burst any unfavorable boundaries and results. Xenovader had that energy, something that many people cannot replicate. Or at least in his eyes. Truthfully and objectively, there are far worse out there on the streets, but what can you do against the lens of romanticizing your idols?

"If you were to change anything here, what would you do?" He looks at the bartender. "Personally...I would like to remove the trash here that's ruining the show. Maybe that'll make the auction more fun." A somewhat evil sounding chuckle came out of him, as he attempts to mask it as a casual laugh; an reaction between two friends or acquaintances or something.

He smirks a bit as Goro made his statement. He should be used to this sort of behavior from strangers, or at the very least expected this from the first moment he opened his mouth. The bartender quietly stares as he fixes another drink. Maekawa shakes his head, still amused at his “friend’s” wariness. A fully reasonable question to ask him, especially after that laugh of his. No one can claim that it was a friendly expression. He just drinks a little bit more of the contents of his drink, as something slowly extends out of his back and slowly entangle one of the feet of the stools he’s sitting on, not much to be noticed by any but those near him.

“Perhaps trash is a bit of a strong word, eheheh. Must’ve been the alcohol, really sorry about that. All I’m referring to are those kind of people. Those who just waste away in public doing nothing. Those who stand there and let themselves be controlled by others. Those who have no gifts such as ours and who’s presence in this world is questionable at best. You know those people.” He glares at Goro. “What’s the point of them? They just make it worse for the rest of us.” He pushes the cup up front. If anything, the only good thing about them is their usage as a stepping stone to the next thrill in life, he thinks to himself as the bartender carefully approaches them and fills up the contents of his cup.

“Xenovader knew that. You can tell that he knew he was far above them, a logical assumption to make.” He smirks again. “And you? What do you feel about them? Don’t you feel some contempt about them as well?

The stinger slowly extends itself more. It slowly attempts to get pass a crack in the floorboards. If he estimates it right, he can get through the bar under and prick the bartender's leg with poison, and he wouldn't feel anything more than a potential ant bite. But not yet, of course. Not yet while he's talking with 'interesting' company.' He seems to be agreeing with him, either sharing the same beliefs or being as polite as possible. Potentially the second one, but someone sharing the same knowledge in old villainy is nice to talk with nevertheless. Been a while since he met someone who knows what they re talking about.

"Important people, hmm? Suppose you do have a point. Wouldn't it benefit you in the long run to obtain that important figure as a...'friend' of sorts? To steep in their good graces and slowly uproot their original intent, making it yours while you yourself sit in the background reaping all the benefits of it? Simple killing seems far too easy." He looks at his drink. "Say for example that Abbadon fellow. What he did was quite impressive, but in the long run, what did it do exactly? He got jailed for his efforts, and although I hear from the grape vine that he got out, he hasn't made any noise." He smirks a bit. "One can only hope that fellow and his little group are planning something else soon, but for just killing those people...seems a tad bit lackluster. Wouldn't agree?" he looks at Goro. "Didn't you want something else to emerge from that blowback?"