Business
"I'm looking at it now, and it's fake," Megan said into her cell phone. She was standing before a seemingly impressive display of 11th century Japanese armor. Her two gaurds were watching the the only entrance to the room with stoic intensity. Megan paced like an animal caged, the phone pressed to her ear as she spoke into it. "At the very least its not Yasumori's. He didn't wear a red lacquered helm, and the mempo is wrong as well. Who did you get these from?"
She rolled her eyes at the answer and moved the phone to her other ear. "I hope he knows how much we paid Japanese customs to move these overseas. Well, I trust that you'll inform him. Yes. Get back to me when it's done."
She closed the phone and looked up at the armor through its protective glass case. It was definately not Yasumori's. Megan had known Adachi Yasumori quite well, and had spent a great deal of time in Japan during his more formative years. She regreted being away at the time of his death-- she most certainly could have prevented it had she been there. She had looked forward to this pieces arrival at the museum, and it was always unfortunate when something like this turned counterfeit. She was almost tempted to fly to Japan and deal with this peronsally. That would have to wait though, she had other things that needed to be dealt with first.
"Konbanwa Megan-san."
"Konbenwa, Mai-san," she said, bowing her head. "You honor me with your presence."
"This is yours? It is not right." She studied the armor behind the glass and pointed to a few things that weren't accurate. Megan would know certainly. She had been around long enough to understand these things. The redhead had always been observant, a shame she had been one of the Rose. Her instincts would have made an excellent member of the Hunt.
She walked past the glass case. It had been some time since she had conversed with Mai. She couldn't say it was entirely due to her busy schedule either. Lately she had been keeping her distance from the others, those she had left behind. She felt less and less of a connection as time passed, though she was probably more like them then she cared to admit. Certain habits were hard to kick.
"You knew Yasumori, did you not?"Â?
"Hai. This is not his."
His story reminded her of her own beginnings. His place over run. His death and those of his family. It was all eerily familiar to her. She had not been in Japan at the time. As always Mai liked to wander but he was a wise man and respected.
She was quiet, this might not have been comforting to most people but Megan was used to her ways. The past didn't normally haunt her, Mai lived in the present and while she hated technology it did not change her ways. She lived a simple life.
"I'm assuming you didn't come here tonight to discuss Japanese history with me."Â? Megan said, her back turned.
Mai did not know if Megan knew Thaddeus and did not think to ask. Evenhet had been created before her Ba-di-kun was born. He did not get a chance to know their elders. Though Mai suspected he would learn more about the tall blonde who lived in the glass tower. It was a good meeting even if she did have to sit in that aweful moving metal box.
Well, not entirely alone, she thought. She did have her guards, as useless as they had been tonight. Not that they could have protected her. Had Mai wanted a fight, she would have cut through them like warm butter. She looked up at the ceiling wondered at the structural integrity of the building, if it could have survived a bout between the two elders. They used to spend hours sparing in the Anantya Dojo. Before Megan left.
"I should probably leave you to your search."Â?
Smiling faintly, Mai turned and quietly left. Ba-di-kun was elsewhere and she must find him.
((OOC: Mai Out. Permission granted to move Megan))
"Sebastian, Jeremiah. We're leaving."
Sebastian produced a phone and called the limo to pick them up, and Megan turned back, stealing a glimpse of the samurai armor behind its glass prison. As they got in the limo, she wondered if she would ever see Yasumori's ghost again, and thought briefly of Mai's rose, left, cold and lonely, on the hardened museum floor.
((OOC: Megan out.))