Running the business

The dead tell no tales. A funny thing to say. There was many ways to be dead. Some considered it not just physically, but emotionally, or mentally. To be so drained you were dead and spoke out of reflex, if at all. Or to be so dead within yourself you were nothing more than a hollowed husk of yourself. The dead were able to speak, but often to get the story you wanted, involved a lot of digging. Most of the cases, with a shovel, and not with words. She had seen a fair share of quirks that resulted in preserving bodies, and thus extended lives, comparable to zombies. But what made her quirk more or less a zombie? Skeletons were undead, and treated as such, and even lacking the organ of a brain, seemed to have more thought than their rotting cousin. What made her less human, or more human than them? No, quirks were quirks. Some made you better, and some made you worse. Sometimes being worse off a human, was still better than your average person with abilities.

She spoke, with evidence, which was fair enough. She had almost forgotten how much of the hero's lives were public. For a moment, and only for a moment, she feared not for Caitlyn, but herself. How much of herself as The Crimson Skull was available? How long until they connect the two dots? Or perhaps she had given more credit than was due to the Japanese police force. Maybe they would find it all a joke.

Kasey would smile at the words, bearing her fangs, quite literally. Her tongue circled the edge of one tooth, cutting into the organ, the bits of blood swirling around her teeth as she licked about, then closing her mouth. "Well, everyone has their pleasures. And, like most, mine are not something I can talk about leisurely in public." Kasey would say. Or perhaps, Bones, if you would.

"Though, I will say, even this small snack has been far more than I expected. Much better than my lunch." Lunch. Cooked rare, or rather, served rare. A platter, for that was where she saved the best for last. It was not prime rib, but a man, a manager. A failure. A suit to save for another servant, and a taste savored like a delicacy. Even in her feral moments, she had made her own utensils. After all, a mastermind behind the curtain needed to have some civilities.

Maybe she was too upfront. All would be learned in time. The small interactions just a test of what could be said to the average civilian. Kasey would learn later that her trial run, couldn't have been tested with anyone more suited than the woman, but that would be for later. Another one filled with pajamas and strange dealings in a penthouse.

"I'd be happy to share, but it's not a matter to discuss to prying eyes and open ears." She spoke, hinting at the need for a private back room, if there was such. For her, a test to see and just to wonder if there was such a room here. One she would frequent if it existed.

"That's something I'll have to keep in mind." she would speak again. "You can't beat the first bite of a fresh meal. Much better than when it arrives cold when my servants deliver." A pause as she caught herself. "Perhaps assistants is a better word. They do get paid after all..."

She was curious to say the least. The woman was interesting, but maybe Kasey shouldn't have tested her luck. Anyone who seemed to be this daring in a conversation was someone to be weary of. She wasn't exactly in the state for a fling, nor in a position to play around her identities. Much less, considering she actually liked the place.

". . . you are so gay." the voice silently judged within as he observed from behind her eyes...

People were so interesting. Some would dance around formalities, while others cared little for appearances. There was a few, however that were formal out of habit, even if they didn't care for their own rudeness or the position of others. Those people, were always the most interesting. Kasey watched the woman take the napkin, only not to watch it press against her lips, but vanish into somewhere else. It didn't matter. Paper was paper. It would be digested all the same.

"Lead the way." AS the woman described her back rooms, Kasey held her ear up to listen to each detail. There was more to what she was saying, and she wanted to know what it was. Someone who kept an office at a few of her locations? Particular. As she was directed to go, she would take her steps. The edges of her mask acting as a set of eyes as Setsuna looked around to the faces of the employees.

"I sense worry." he would speak to his host, "But I feel no danger." The feeling of the hunter being discovered, but having no predator of their own. Strange. Why did she invite them in then? He would not catch the message being passed, nor would be mind it if seen. He had other matters to worry about.

"I suppose so." she would say. Only to smile and set her fingernails from her right, into the palm of her left. "Though, don't be alarmed. But it's not like can be anything less than a danger." Her nails dug into her flesh, the small drops of blood pooled on her hand, careful to not spill onto the floor, safe of her own DNA. She would pull a sword made of bone from the wound, only to seal it behind soft bone to act as a sort of bandage.

"Though, I suppose you see why I couldn't do this at the table." Holding the sword in her hand, her nails would dig into the hilt, careful to hide the minor detail, a slow spin as she observed the room, holding the katana. In a soft motion, it's own sheath would form from the handle all the way to the tip of the weapon.

"Bones. It is who I am, and what I can do." a name, that was an answer in itself. "My arsenal is rather vast, though, limited to certain extents."

Everyone had their own set of morality and ethics. Often, they did not follow the law of society, and had some variation. Few, very few seemed to have a very different set, while others didn't have a set at all. Kasey understood the ethics of business, the self preservation in the event of accidents or catastrophic mistakes. She understood the reason most people followed the moral laws of the civilization, but had disregarded it to her own sense. Villains were criminals. Crime was a constant. What you could do, was limit the crime allowed, allowing those who need to break rules to exist in a non problematic way. To limit these people, the only solution was death. So, to what extent was Kasey willing to kill others to further her agenda?

As the hand extended, Kasey without second thought, handed it over, the handle towards the woman. She was careful in her little bits of creation. When it was laid in her hand Kasey would smile and nod, waiting for the woman to get a grip on the weapon. The weight of it in Kasey's hands, not letting the lightness of the tool shine yet. "When I stop touching? No. It's a bit more complicated than that." The smooth handle would begin to grow porous as it would being to weave into itself like cloth, feeling more akin to what it appeared to be.

As Marcie held the weapon in her hand, Kasey would let the weight of it set. It would be light, a bit more so than expected in comparison to a real Katana. But Kasey would pull the sheath. The weapon still one solid piece, bonded by needles that allowed her to manipulate the weapon at will. With each inch she pulled, the weapon grew more and more grotesque, until she held but the simple scabbard in her hand, the fully formed weapon in the storekeeper's hands. The weight of the weapon unchanged, but the shape morphed. The edges, sharp enough to cut steel with enough force, would be more fine and razor pointed than most knifes .

If she set her hands upon it, she could feel the carvings upon it, all of the careful details of a craftsman, reduced to a quick that made things almost instantly, at the cost of blood. To the side of the blade, a texture not too unlike the lines of a tree's bark. Organic, unique, and made in the moment. But both sides of the sword would be symmetrical. All careful edits by the creature within her.

"If you kept it, most likely by the time I leave, it would be as strong as origami. Would make a cool decoration, but I get the feeling that's not your theme, in the store, at least." A smile on her face as she waited to see the impression left behind. She was curious, but didn't care one way or the other. She only wondered what someone would think of her newly refined skills. Any reaction, was good enough, even one of indifference.

Quirks were all strange and unique in their own way. In most regards, it was only in a thematic sense. At their core, she understood, they were all the same. It didn't matter if it was metal, ice, bone, or wood, with the mind and skill of someone strong mentally and physically, it was a weapon to fear. It didn't matter what it was made of, but what it could compare to. The simple things man created to outdo each other, was not even close to compare to the powers people were just beginning to learn and understand. With enough time, any one of them could ascend to what they would regard as a god. The beginning, was getting them to accept that you were no longer human.

The spaces of air, the little holes and pockets within the bone were what allowed the weapon to remain the same weight, quality, and strength. Bits of condensed air, acting just like a buffer, a bit of reinforcement to keep it durable. The minor flexibility that real bones had to offer, was what also allowed the weapon to remain strong and unique to itself. As the weapon was reversed and handed back, as Kasey held onto the grip, she would pull back the sword, only to twist it in the air. Her nails dug in, and with it, the sword would vanish, sucked into her bones. The empty scabbard full once more with the katana from before.

"Well, that would depend on the design they are after. I've replicated my own versions of famed weapons, and all of which stand to this day." A smile, and a slight bow, "Though, that time of my life was ended long ago, I would however, entertain the idea for a small return for perhaps a new limited run for my unique creations."

But only half of that was truthful.

A nobody tailor, stepping up to become a janitor, who found herself in a chance job at a pharmacy. With a few strings, became a pharmacist, skipping the time needed. Kasey was keen on using people to her advantage. They were there to serve a purpose. Most of them were just wallets waiting to be emptied at her convenience. Now, with a corporation under her control, she found no need to tailor clothing, nor work the simple jobs beyond keeping her personas constant. There was no need to craft for people and give away bones that could showcase the great feat she was; a bundle of mixed DNA.

"As you see fit, we'll discuss things another time." She wasn't eager to the idea, but that being said she wasn't saying no, either. As the door opened, Kasey would offer a bow, before walking out, the sheathed weapon in hand still. "Until we speak again." she would say with a smile, going to return to her seat, only to order another bite before leaving. It certainly was one interesting place. With it, the new business prospect. Perhaps the aid of putting other people into other homes would serve her well. Or maybe, it would be her downfall...