My pain is real!

Before she could say any more, however, the sounds of police sirens squealed in the distance, rushing in that direction. "Now is neither the time nor the place for this discussion kiddo," she explained, eyes glancing towards the sounds, looking for tell-tale lights. "If you want to continue this discussion, follow me, we can talk as much as you wish then" she explained clearly, all business before turning, dropping the rifle barrel securely into her left hand, and Hirenkyakuing straight for the Dosojin Junction. There, she'd lead this strange young woman to an isolated region she'd found, tucked away from onlookers where they could speak freely without risk of being heard and without revealing her own home or identity.

Tilting her head towards the sound of approaching police sirens, Arazia kept her eyes trained on the now fleeing gunslinger. As she watched the woman leave, a slight frown tugged at the corner of her lips upon recognizing the Quincy-step technique, 'A Quincy eh...' Turning her head against the restless force of the brisk night wind, she eyed the persistent flashing of blue and red lights as eight police cars sped by in the distance. She could understand the woman's need to seek refuge at such a time, but really now...didn't she realize how far they had both made it from the scene already? Not to mention how high above the streets they both had been standing. It would have been impossible for the cops to see or even sense them...unless of course there was one of their kind among them.

'...one of our kind...' raising a hand to poke at the small of her chin, she filed through her brain in order to remember if such a person existed. During her stints with both the Human Council and the Jundo House, she had been briefly acquainted with other spiritual humans who had chosen to do regular jobs in addition to their supernatural one. Back then however, she had been far too concerned with eliminating her prey and trying to make good on her mother's ideals, to take much in depth notice of who did what mundane job, so it was quite possible for there to be an "aware" police officer in Karakura without her even knowing it.

Shrugging away her uncertainty, Arazia redirected her gaze towards the direction in which the Quincy woman had gone. Should she really follow her? Was there anything she wanted to say to such a person anyway? Sure, she had been the one to pursue her initially, but that had been more out of impulse...a fleeting moment on her part. Was a meeting in some unknown place, at such ungodly hours, with some random stranger, really a good idea? Plus, there was her stomach to think about; she had gotten into the habit of treating herself to Mae-un Tang after every run--one of her favorite dishes; she could already feel her stomach protesting the meal's delay. Dropping her hand from her chin and to her stomach, she patted it softly--her midnight runs always left her ravenous.

There was also the matter of the woman's personality to think of. Although she had only meant to be cordial by ditching the regular street slang she was now so used to taking on, the woman had seemed somewhat offended by her use of proper Japanese. Rolling her eyes as she recalled the Quincy's tone at the time, Arazia stuffed her hands into the small side pockets on her shorts and sighed...surely said woman wasn't aware of how odd and out of place her accent had sounded. This was exactly why she had no patience for other people sometimes.

Tapping her foot atop the roof's gravely asphalt, Arazia contemplated her situation for a few more moments before finally conceding. She would go ahead and meet with the girl. Already she had calculated the possibility of their meeting being some kind of trap, but she wouldn't exactly shy away from such an event either...if someone had gone through such careful planning to snag her, the least she could do was find out who it was. With a firm grip on the woman's lingering reiatsu signature, she took off after it, her steps no more hurried than she deemed worthy.

As she rushed towards the meeting place, Ryder coul not help but wonder just who this strange woman could be. She didn't seem to be carrying a cross or similar pendant of any sort, so Quincy seemed unlikely, and she most certainly wasn't a Shinigami. Now that her companion was actually using her abilities somewhat, to maintain an appropriate speed to keep up with her, the blonde soldier's senses were actually able to faintly notice her spiritual presense. ~Save the thoughts for later Lieutenant, keep your senses open, you've turned your back to a potential enemy~ she reprimanded herself mentally. There would be more than enough time for questions when they got where they were going, for the time being she would need to divert all the attention she didn't need to watch where she was going to keeping her senses peeled for signs of trouble from behind.

with the pace Emiko had set, it was not long before she found herself drawing near her destination. The Dosojin Junction loomed in the distance, a treacherous labrynth of snaking tunnels and overpasses that provided all the privacy they would require. In moments, the woman reached the desired entrance, pausing a moment to be sure she was seen at that particular one, and stepped inside. The tunnel was dark and cold, only faintly lit by sparse electronic lights above to guide the way. Walking at a casual pace along the sidewalk, Ryder purposefully ignored the rare car that occasionally passed by.

Regardless of whether or not Arazia chose to draw close and try to start a conversation, Ryder would remain stoically silent, ignoring the other woman while leading them through the passageway, to a place where two tunnels intersected. There, once making certain that there were no witnesses, she reached out, grabbing a massive broken slab of concrete and sliding it out the way. Although still hidden to anyone casually driving by, the two women could see through a doorway, revealing only to their small angle a hidden chamber in the wall between tunnels of the intersection. Turning to be sure her companion was still with her, Ryder beckoned her inside. It was risky bringing the woman here, but the tight quarters would be to her advantage if a fight were to develop.

A view of the chamber would reveal a fairly startling sight. The inside was decorated modestly, but comfortably, with a large rug across the floor and all the necessary furnature. In one corner was a rolled futon, with space enough to be laid out, and in the center of the room rested a table with two chairs. Along the walls rested workbenches, upon which were multiple parts for various firearms and all the needed tools for maintenance and repair. "From what I could find, this was originally intended to be a maintenance room some thirty years ago or so, but a cave-in covered it before it was completed, and no one cared enough to bother with it."

~If worst comes to worst, I'll just blow the place up, and bury her along with it...~ Ryder determined to herself, already carefully tracing the structural weak points she'd found before setting this up as her away base for storing her weapons and avoiding unwanted eyes. She wasn't really sure why she had taken this woman here, but if she was lucky she'd wind up with a friend or ally, instead of a dead woman on her hands.

That was the plan, at least. But if there was one thing Ryder had learned in Afghanistan, it was that things rarely go according to plan, and to prepare for the worst.

As she leapt from roof-top to roof-top, the loose strands of Arazia's hair slashed against her cheeks due to both her speed and the vagrant night breeze. Above ground the air was even more nippy than it had been below, causing her to be thankful for choosing to slip into her track jacket before leaving the house for her night run. Without slowing to a stop, she tugged at the jacket's metallic zipper and pulled it up to secure some warmth--she wasn't a fan of such weather at all. Below her, the dusky streets of Karakura crawled with life, as people drove to-and-fro the occasional night club, and wherever else folks usually went after midnight. She had just landed on the top of a small convenience store, when a familiar sensation in the side pocket of her jacket demanded some attention. Pausing atop the store's roof with one leg planted to its shingles and another paused in motion, she fished a cellphone from her pocket and pressed its green, answer button.

"And where do you think you're going?" Before she could so much as say "Hello" a gruff, male voice sounded from the phone's speaker.

Rolling her eyes at the speaker's tone of concern, Arazia frowned. Turi Alcamo, her housemate/babysiter/cook/god-brother, had no doubt expected her to be home by now. "I'm going to meet up with someone," her reply was hurried, "long story short, there was some Quincy chick in the square just now..."

"You're going off to meet some strange woman?"

"And where do you think you're going?" Before she could so much as say "Hello" a gruff, male voice sounded from the phone's speaker.

Rolling her eyes at the speaker's tone of concern, Arazia frowned. Turi Alcamo, her housemate/babysiter/cook/god-brother, had no doubt expected her to be home by now. "I'm going to meet up with someone," her reply was hurried, "long story short, there was some Quincy chick in the square just now..."

"You're going off to meet some strange woman?"

"Pretty much. Look..." not wanting to waste much time, she made him promise to have some soup and noodles ready for her return, threw in a reminder about the GPS tracking on her phone--just in case, since one could never be too safe--then abruptly disconnected the call; she would explain everything to him later. Returning the phone to her pocket, she took off yet again and trailed the other woman's reiatsu.

Hopping from building to building, she couldn't help but wonder yet again if her actions were really such a good idea. Why was she following the strange Quincy woman who used a gun instead of a Bow? It was definitely unlike her to be tagging after some random no-body...especially one who actually used the word 'kiddo' to address her. 'The Dosojin Junction?'...finally stilling to a complete halt atop an abandoned warehouse in a more quiet part of town, Arazia's eyes narrowed as she saw a flash of blond hair disappear into Karakura's maze-like labyrinth. Was this woman serious?

Descending from the building to set foot on a dusty, dirt road, she sprinted towards the Junction with all her senses on high alert. It was indeed a good thing that her ability to sense reiatsu was so high, otherwise she would have surely taken a wrong turn while trailing the woman to an ominous entrance. Ducking through the opening to enter a dark and chilled tunnel, Arazia couldn't help but think of the old television series, 'Tales of the Crypt.' She was much closer to the gunslinger now, with but a few feet of distance between them. The woman said nothing, and neither did Arazia, who kept her eyes trained on her guide and their surroundings. Eventually pausing in her steps as her "companion" came to a halt, she watched as the woman moved aside a slab of concrete as if it were a piece of foam, to reveal a small doorway. It was here that she turned and beckoned to Arazia, finally seeming to acknowledge her existence, before stepping into the newly unobstructed hole. Pressing her lips together, Arazia mentally chastised herself: 'You're like a kid being lured into the back of an unmarked van.' Never-the-less, she decided to keep with the task at hand and entered as well.

The Chamber was nothing like its dreary outside. Compared to the tunnel it was actually much brighter and rather cozy. Arazia took a moment to adjust her eyes to the new source of light, then examined her new surroundings. Modest in its decor and sprinkled with sparse furnishing, it held true to the very image of a "secret hideaway". It didn't take long before her attention was drawn to a group of workbenches loaded with firearm parts--yes, surely this was why she had thrown caution to the wind and followed the blond stranger. The woman spoke just then about the room's origin, prompting Arazia to face her. "It's...quaint," she responded, her voice void of any type of significant tone, "But why come here? If you're that weary of me...wouldn't it have been best to meet in a coffee house of some sort, a place where we could speak in private yet still be among others? Or is there perhaps some other reason?"

One week. Seven of the longest, most annoying and stressful days of Ryder's life had led her to this point, and the pressure was beginning to get to her. The years in Iraq were difficult, but this was a different variety of stress entirely. One for which she had not been prepared. For seven days and night's she'd wandered the streets, doing her best to be subtle while at the same time seeking out the Quincy Council, or at least SOMEBODY who knew more about this whole 'Quincy thing' than she did. Day in and day out she'd searched, while hollows attacked sporatically, without regard to the time or the hour.

Truth be told, Emi didn't HAVE a specific reason for leading this woman back to her 'secret base' and that scared her more than anything else had since her first few months in Afghanistan. To have let her focus and resolve waiver to the point that she was acting solely on instinct without a plan was something that she, as a woman, as a soldier, and as a Quincy, could not allow. Acting on instinct was one of the prime ways to get yourself killed, and Ryder had no interest in dying just yet.

"Several reasons really," explained the woman stoically, careful to keep any emotion from showing through rather than lose face and reveal her weakness. Turning to face the smaller woman, Ryder flashed a faint smile, the reasons her instincts had applied to the situation beginning to come to her, one piece at a time.

"First off, would you really want to discuss things of this sort in public? You never know who could be listening or why." It was sound reasoning, but far from explained the rushed journey here completely. "I don't know about you, but I would rather not be heard discussing 'hollows' and such in the open. Just doesn't seem wise to me."

Making her way over to one of the work benches, Ryder hefted her rifle over her head and lowered it above the bench's hardwood surface, beginning to disassemble it as she moved on to the next point.

"Secondly..." she paused turning to look her companion calmly in the eyes. "I was giving you a chance to shoot me in the back. I'm not the most trusting sort in the world, and wanted to be sure you wouldn't jump me when given the chance. The way here provided more than enough opportunities did it not? Especially back there in that dark tunnel without any room to run, when I let you get so close to me."

~Close enough to shove a knife in my back even if I were at my most alert, given her speed...~ whispered the thought unbidden, reminding Lieutenant Hughes of just how foolish she had been. Had this truly been an enemy, she well could have been dead already. At the very best she would be fighting a losing battle after taking a hampering injury.

Noticing she'd left the doorway open, Ryder laid the rifle pieces where she'd been working on them, and made her way over to it, hooking her hand into a carved out handle and pulled it back into position. "The last reason is a simple one. In here, if the need arose, I could kill you without drawing any attention to the situation" she explained coldly, turning to smile at her guest once more.

"But from what I can tell, that's not going to be necessary, is it?" Making her way back to the bench, Ryder returned to her rifle parts and tools, expertly cleaning and polishing the weapon, deciding whether or not to trust the woman with who and what she was. Given the speed she had displayed, it seemed like she might be a fellow Quincy, and at last be a lead to the Council for which she had sought.

"I won't get into the personal details of the situation, but here's the long and short of it. I moved over here looking for some 'Quincy Council' I was told about. I've been doing everything in my power to seek them out, but as of yet nothing's turned up. You're the first potential lead I've found. So please, relax, and tell me what you know."

As the Quincy started listing her reasons for their journey to such an isolated location, Arazia observed her intently. She didn't know what to make of the woman just yet, and it certainly didn't help that her new companion maintained a rather stoic expression, even the small smile she ushered towards Arazia at one point seemed more indifferent than friendly. Listening keenly, she said nothing about the notion of discussing hollows in public, instead, she watched as hands meticulously disassembled their owner's firearm. However, when the woman revealed her second reason, she arched a finely sculpted left brow and shifted her gaze from weapon to human. Upon doing this, she found herself pinned by a pair of grey-green orbs that were as composed as her own. At twenty-one years of age, she was acutely aware of the fact that she had much more to learn, but she didn't need a book or a lecture to tell her that anyone who was willing to turn their back on a potential bullet, was most certainly not one lacking the skill to react, or the experience of having endured such a situation. She could have surely piped up just then and scoffed at the notion of doing such an underhanded thing, yet didn't because although she could be called many things...a liar, was not one of them.