Vigilance
Explorer
Coming soon from RPGObjects:
The men were laughing.
“Look sweetness, you want no part of this. This isn’t daddy’s dojo in Fresno, got it?”
Brianna brought her knees up to her chest one at a time, then, while each knee was still against her chest that leg went straight up into the air. Both feet on the ground, she doubled over backward, placing her hands flat on the ground. After holding this position for a few seconds, during which time her back popped out of shape, too much time over a typewriter at the paper, she brought her legs up, held the handstand for a few seconds, then went over the rest of the way. Moving her head from side to side, resting her ear on each shoulder (accompanied by another pop), Brianna tied her long chestnut hair back into a ponytail and stepped out of her shoes.
The men were no longer laughing.
“Look is this a date or what? I made all the right ‘contributions’ to the old folks’ home, I thought you boys liked to party.”
The men formed a circle around her.
One stepped forward, a sadistic grin on his face showing the teeth he had lost in previous streetfighting. “All right cutie. I promise to be gentle.”
Brianna smiled. “That doesn’t work for me, sugar.”
The punk never saw the snap-kick, or the circle kick that robbed his smile of another tooth, but he managed to throw himself out of the way of the jump kick that would have snapped his head back into oblivion. The men surrounding them starting screaming as if by cue, with the men in the back, the hard-looking Japanese men with the bulges in their jackets, the men she was actually here to meet, taking bets.
“What the **** was that?!?”
Brianna smiled again, sweet southern drawl mocking the man on the ground while she moved in a slow circle around him, keeping her eyes on the thronging men surrounding her make sure no one wanted to join the “party”. “That’s Hapkido darlin’. Did you miss the lecture on Korean History last week at the museum?”
The man sprang to his feet, spitting out a mouth full of blood. It caught one of the spectators right in the face, the man growled, and surged forward, but a voice in the back hissed something and he froze in his tracks.
Good. This might be the Hanmei after all.
Five hours later, back in her hotel room, Brianna slipped into a long overdue hot bath, working out strain in muscles long left unused. Before surrendering to the hot water altogether, she picked up her cell phone and hit the speed dial. “Constitution. Do you know the extension of the party you’re trying to reach?”
Brianna’s mind was already fogging over, but she managed to mumble “868”.
“Hello, this is Foreign Affairs Editor Jim Philby. I’m not at my desk right now, but leave me a message, and I’ll return your call as soon as time permits.”
“Jim. Bri. I’m in.”
Hanging up the phone, Brianna sunk down into the tub, letting the water cover her completely.
The men were laughing.
“Look sweetness, you want no part of this. This isn’t daddy’s dojo in Fresno, got it?”
Brianna brought her knees up to her chest one at a time, then, while each knee was still against her chest that leg went straight up into the air. Both feet on the ground, she doubled over backward, placing her hands flat on the ground. After holding this position for a few seconds, during which time her back popped out of shape, too much time over a typewriter at the paper, she brought her legs up, held the handstand for a few seconds, then went over the rest of the way. Moving her head from side to side, resting her ear on each shoulder (accompanied by another pop), Brianna tied her long chestnut hair back into a ponytail and stepped out of her shoes.
The men were no longer laughing.
“Look is this a date or what? I made all the right ‘contributions’ to the old folks’ home, I thought you boys liked to party.”
The men formed a circle around her.
One stepped forward, a sadistic grin on his face showing the teeth he had lost in previous streetfighting. “All right cutie. I promise to be gentle.”
Brianna smiled. “That doesn’t work for me, sugar.”
The punk never saw the snap-kick, or the circle kick that robbed his smile of another tooth, but he managed to throw himself out of the way of the jump kick that would have snapped his head back into oblivion. The men surrounding them starting screaming as if by cue, with the men in the back, the hard-looking Japanese men with the bulges in their jackets, the men she was actually here to meet, taking bets.
“What the **** was that?!?”
Brianna smiled again, sweet southern drawl mocking the man on the ground while she moved in a slow circle around him, keeping her eyes on the thronging men surrounding her make sure no one wanted to join the “party”. “That’s Hapkido darlin’. Did you miss the lecture on Korean History last week at the museum?”
The man sprang to his feet, spitting out a mouth full of blood. It caught one of the spectators right in the face, the man growled, and surged forward, but a voice in the back hissed something and he froze in his tracks.
Good. This might be the Hanmei after all.
Five hours later, back in her hotel room, Brianna slipped into a long overdue hot bath, working out strain in muscles long left unused. Before surrendering to the hot water altogether, she picked up her cell phone and hit the speed dial. “Constitution. Do you know the extension of the party you’re trying to reach?”
Brianna’s mind was already fogging over, but she managed to mumble “868”.
“Hello, this is Foreign Affairs Editor Jim Philby. I’m not at my desk right now, but leave me a message, and I’ll return your call as soon as time permits.”
“Jim. Bri. I’m in.”
Hanging up the phone, Brianna sunk down into the tub, letting the water cover her completely.
