9716/Cops and Wrestlers

Cops and Wrestlers
Date of Scene:	22 October 2019
Location:	Midtown, Manhattan
Synopsis:	Team Japan has arrived in America, and Katsumi scopes out the venue for the upcoming special event. Unfortunately, jetlag seems to be destroying Katsumi's stamina. Sara Pezzini notices something amiss and investigates, along with a brief appearance by one Remy LeBeau. But is jetlag really the cause...?
Cast of Characters:	Bakeneko, Witchblade, Gambit

---

Bakeneko has posed:
An hour ago, a plane touched down in New York City from Japan, carrying a company of four athletes and one businessman - among others. Everyone filed out. The athletes were given itineraries, including hotel accommodations. They'd be expected to make appearances at certain times. Typical fare for the occupation; par for the course.

But Katsumi was tired. Why? She couldn't say. The flight was long and horrendous, but it always was when traveling to the opposite end of the world. The body is saying it's time to be awake, while the world is saying 'gtf2bed' with its insistent stars and stupid moon. Even still, Katsumi Oshiro, the vibrant, energetic Punk Princess, was /drained/.

She unloaded in the hotel room. There was tension already with her temporary roommate, so she nope'd out of that. Besides, when in a foreign city, she always had an itch to explore. Screw the fatigue. And the way the city is set up, with so much above-ground and their buildings generally so... sleek? It's fascinating. Always like walking in another world.

Her wanderings eventually lead her here, to Midtown Manhattan, before Madison Square Garden. This is where it would be taking place. Where it would all go down. Posters are already set up advertising the 'Four Corners of the World' promotional event, breathlessly announcing contenders from Russia, Japan, the U.K., and naturally, the United States, all vying to see who would best represent the great sport of professional wrestling.

Katsumi tilts her head forward, bumping her brow against the metal gate barring access. Her bright green eyes are somehow a little dull, distant. Man, is she out of it.

Witchblade has posed:
Sara Pezini, one of New York's finest, a detective, is in Midtown for work, too. Unlike the poster, she's not wrestling. Well, in the physical sense. She's wrestling with the Witchblade, but that's a match nobody wants to ever see when it goes down. She's hunting down a specific address, but she does spare Katsumi a look as she walks past. Something in the back of her mind gets her to stop and take a look at Katsumi. Maybe Sara's thinking this woman is on something, or maybe....Sara's bored of going door to door. Instead she gently reaches out a hand to get the woman's attention.

"Hey, 'scuse me, but you with it?"


Blunt question. Bht that's the New Yorker way. Blunt as the flat side of an anvil. Sara's not moving. Instead...she's here to meet somebody, but no damned idea where. MSG is a good point. Everyone, yes, /everyone/ knows where MSG is. Saras outside, her temper getting shorter with the people bumping into her or stopping to get pictures of the poster. There's excited chatter. Thankfully, Sara's kind of shielding their vew of Katsumi from a casual look on the street. "Move it" Sara snaps at the crowd. "Nothing to see here. Get moving, you all got places to be. Go on. Get" Sara adds, with a few muttered choice words, something something effing crowds something something effing idiots who block the sidewalks. She muttered it loud enough for the crowd to hear, too.

Gambit has posed:
Remy LeBeau isn't sure why he is here. Well that's not entirely true, he's here because he has an apointment. With a Cop. Certainly not how you'd expect one of the the world's greatest thieves (never convicted), of spending his evening. But the offer tempted the Cajun. He couldn't say why percisely, other then he was bored. He's a master thief. An X-Man. He is currently doing over 70 miles per hour on a tricked out street bike through Midtown Manhatten. And he's bored. Probibly best not to over self psychoanalyse that. He parks the bike in a secure parking area and heads towards his meet on foot, wearing as promised a Tan trench coat and a pony tail.

Bakeneko has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro doesn't care so much about the crowd - which isn't entirely normal for her. She's a crowd-pleaser. An entertainer. Not because it's noble, but because she loves the attention. But tonight? Her brain is just so fuzzy; so disconnected from everything. Maybe she's coming down with an illness?

There's a hand on her shoulder.

Instincts take over, and the punkette wheels back from the gates to egress a step from the hand, eyes wide and suddenly sharpened. The question then registers - and she has no idea how to take it. The moment the apprehension is calmed, confusion is quick to take its place.

"With it? With what? The show?," she asks, her pace clipped and defensive. "Of course I am! I'm-," in America, therefore, "Katsumi Oshiro!" It's said with such confidence and implied disbelief at the question that one could be forgiven for thinking they /should/ know her - even if they didn't have their finger on the pulse of professional wrestling. Of note, her English is excellent; smooth, fluid, and accent-free save for just a slight flavoring of Japanese heritage.

The sound of an obviously-speeding bike catches her ear, but the confusing woman in question maintains her attention. In her drained state, she doesn't have too much focus to spare.

Witchblade has posed:
Sara sighs and folds her arms. "Never mind. I was going to check if you're with it" she says then glances over, picking up on the sound of a speeding bike. No sirens. which makes Sara laugh just a bit. "Alright, fine" she says with an edge to her posture. "Now, you're a wrestler. Fine. I don't care. You're leaning on a gate. I don't care" Sara says. "Know what? I don't even care about that speeding bike. But you're sort of distinctive, lady. So what're you doing here?" she asks.

Gambit has posed:
Remy LeBeau slides a pair of dark sunglasses over his fire and brimstone eyes, the last part of the "look" he promised his contact that he'd have as he makes his way out of the parking area and towards the pair. He recognizes the voice from the phone and just shakes his head slightly. With a casual flourish he produces a deck of cards and begins shuffling them carelessly. "Now chere, didn' yah mamma evah tell yah dat yah catch more flies wit' 'one den wit' vinegar?"

Bakeneko has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro narrows her eyes a little further at the taller woman. Again with the 'with it'! She has no idea what that means! The shift in posture is noted, and the Japanese girl's mirror - heckles raised. Her right foot shifts back subtly, adjusting her balance, and her shoulders square with the minor change. She has no idea what to expect, but if aggressions raise, she's ready to answer it!

Maybe!

Frigging fatigue, man. She's fighting through it though.

"Why does /that/ matter to you? Who are you, grabbing at people and asking if they're with something!," she counters. "Some kind've cult?! Is that your angle?"

The additional voice takes her foreign ear a little longer to process. And she lands on maybe the wrong thing. "Did you just call me a 'fly'?"

Witchblade has posed:
"This is honey for us new Yorkers. You want vinegar? Fine. I'll do vinegar" Sara says, directing that to Thomas, then turns her attention back to Katsumi. Pulling out her wallet she shows her ID. "Perzini, NYPD. I'm a cop, lady. I was checking to see if you were awake and paying attention" she says as she pockets the wallet again. That voice in the back of er head's urging her to be careful, Sara slams it back down and carries on with her black and white attitude. "So you're tired, you got anywhere to sleep? I'll call a cab and tell them to drop you at a hotel if you like" Sara offers. She then directs her next question to the Cajun. "Good that you're here. Want to help out over here?" she asks. Sara's no pushover. Any host of the Witchblade isn't. The fact Sara's not got control of it though....that's asking for trouble if it decides to activate and slice everyone up.

Gambit has posed:
Remy LeBeau smirks slightly, "Yah were pretty close owevah chere. NYPD is pretty close ta a cult if yah ask mos' folks." he says with a daziling smirk to the Japanese girl. He shrugs slightly to the woman however and says, "It's yah meetin' chere," walking towards Kitsune as well. "Yah need cab fair chere? Much as de lady bein' agressive, dis ain' de safest part of de city dis time of night."

Bakeneko has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro immediately pales when Sara reveals herself to be a cop. There's a long string of kanji-written obscenities scrolling through her mind, all unvocalized. Cops are /bad/, m'kay? Not just for her personal sake and her tendency to be rowdy when faced with opposition, but for her continued employment. Hell, this could cost her her entire participation! And this gig, cheesy as it is, means greater international exposure. A wider audience. Do well, and wider world gets to see it. Her federation treats her about as well as she could hope for, but to become a household name? Something like this could kickstart her career to the next level.

And she's about to blow it by getting into a spat with a cop.

Katsumi swallows hard. Both for her pride, and to afford herself just a second.

"I-I'm awake. I'm good!," she says, voice much smaller and mousy. "I- I have a hotel! I was just looking at the venue! That's all!" She's shaken enough to not even care that the other dude is schmoozing up to her side. She definitely doesn't want to be ushered back to the hotel. Sure, she's tired, but the other girl is still up, and the last thing she needs is to get into it and exacerbate stress.

Witchblade has posed:
Sara eyes Remy carefully. "Careful, LSP is no better or worse. So" she says, "Cops in N'Awlins got issues too, so, Frenchie, you helping or not?" she asks. Her anger's definitely there....but she's agree to meet Remy. "So, we got things to discuss" she adds with her arms folded over her chest, and looks back to Katsumi. "Great. Two people I can't understand. One of whom sounded a lot more civilized on the phone." she says. She can understand Katsumi fine. She's just taking jabs left and right since the Witchblade's restless

Gambit has posed:
"Cops in NAwlins more like a racket den a cult," Remy says almost piously and shakes his head slightly, then saying to the Japanese woman, "Ah'm sure de detective was jus' worried 'bout yah well being chere. She not trying ta 'arass yah or give yah a 'ard time. Matter of fact, Ah'm pretty sure she's 'ere ta 'arass me an' give /me/ a 'ard time. Jus' tryin' ta be sure yah wern' causin' any trouble or in any. Righ' detective?" he asks, his voice melodic, almost soothing.

Bakeneko has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro looks increasingly flustered. Her hands link together in front of her chest, thumbs fidgeting against each other. Those bright green eyes flit between Remy and Sara, unable to make heads or tails of whatever she's run into. Who would've thought leaning against a gate could cause so much trouble?

"I'm just, I'm just gonna go, okay?," she asks. The previous stance she was settling into - that ready stance for things to go down - has been completely abandoned in favor of a deferring backstep of one boot at first, as if asking permission to escape the situation. "No harm done, right?"

The last thing she needs is press about her getting in trouble with the law. Sure, it might play well with an audience, but she somehow doubts the boss-man would see it that way.

Gambit has posed:
Remy LeBeau shakes his head slightly, "Look," he says to Sara, "Dare's a place about two blocks from 'ere. Vonas. Ah'm gonna go get a cup of coffee an' some breakfast. When yah finish servin' an' protectin' 'ere, yah c'n meet me dare. Okay?" he asks more amused then anything.

Witchblade has posed:
Sara's tone changes when Remy gets going. "Look. I'm not going to slap cuffs on you, alright? It's just....you're out alone. You're in a bad bit of town. And you got me worried, y'know. If there's anything I can do to help, just say the word." she says. Shee might be a detective. She might be somebody with a black and white morality. But deep down. It's her damn city. She wants the best for everyone. This lady included. So she's offering to help. Not slap cuffs on, or give her a reason to be afraid.....welll.....unless the Witchblade comes out, that is. Then there's reasons to be afraid.

Bakeneko has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro reaches a hand out to the left as if to steady herself, fingers grazing the bars she'd previously leaned against. "I don't need help! I was just walking around!-" No sooner does she say that than she somehow manage to hook one foot behind the other ankle and manage to trip herself. Or at least, that's what the assumption would've been by most; a simple, if embarrassing, moment of clumsiness. In reality, her boots didn't inadvertantly lock. Her legs simply went rubbery on her.

The hand at the bars seizes onto the metal, preventing her from falling completely down to the sidewalk. But for a moment there, it's all that was keeping her up. Eyes widened, a flash of panic, and she's hurrying to try to right herself. This is not normal jetlag.

Witchblade has posed:
Sara instantly crouches down and offers a hand out. She may be a cop. But she's doing the /right thing/. Plus it's good PR. The department could use her getting good PR. SO she's crouched offering a hand to the Japanese lady wrestler person. "Are you okay?" she asks, "I can call for an ambulance if you need it"

Yeah like that'd do any good, Sara. She does, though, keep a watch of the street for trouble.

Bakeneko has posed:
A hand offered, but a hand rejected. Katsumi has her own image to protect, and it's bad enough to feel like she has to cower. She can't seem weaker still in front of regular folk and potential audience! So instead, the Japanese girl latches onto the gate to unsteadily pull herself up on wobbly legs.

A taxi is needed. She's sure of that now. Screw the roommate, she needs to throw herself into bed and sleep off this jetlag.

Her eyes widen to panicked saucers at the mention of an ambulance. "No!," she balks a little more loudly than necessary. If the boss caught wind of her catching a ride in an ambulance, he'd strike her off the event for liability reasons! Whatever this is, she has to deal with it quietly! "I'm fine! I'll just get a taxi! That's all!"

Witchblade has posed:
Sara notes the panicked reaction. She's unsure if it's down to nerves, or...or...something. SO she looks over Katsumi again. "Alright, a taxi, huh?" she asks and then looks up and down the street. "No medics. Got it" she says and pulls out her phone to call for a cab. At least, if she got reception, that is

Bakeneko has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro hasn't been to the States in a while, but she's pretty sure she remembers how one calls a cab. So she isn't suspicious at the call when it happens. It seems on the level! So Katsumi all but literally dangles there, her back to the gate while her hands clamp tight onto one of the bars to keep herself upright.

"Did I really look suspicious?," she finally asks. She knows she probably looks weird /now/, thanks to the strength sapped out of her. But before? Did she really?

Witchblade has posed:
"Just a little" Sara says. "I was worried you wre on something and I wanted to ensure you're on the level, you know?" Sara asks. Phone back in pocket, she's waiting now. She can't get rid of that nagging voice in her head, the ticle on the back of her neck, the feeling trouble's coming. It's always coming, but....

Bakeneko has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro grimaces and shakes her head fervently, scattering those silky blue-black bangs. "No way! I'm just... I don't f***ing know, jet-lagged or something. I'm wiped out. Not /on/ something." The idea of narcotics seems particularly displeasing to her, but likely for obvious reason. She's in-shape, but feminine. No bulgy hulkiness here. And she clearly takes care of her appearance. "I just wanted to see where everything would be going down. Just, take it in quietly."

Quiet is the last thing she wound up with, though.

Witchblade has posed:
Sara nods, like a cop who is listening to a witness make a statement. Only in this case, witnessing her lose a fight with gravity and, nearly fall. Sara's quiet, letting her speak. She speaks once Katsumi's finished. "Alright, you're in a way lucky to fall here, though. You're in a lit area. And I doubt anyone'd pick a fight with you, because....well, they'd lose" Sara offers. They'd lose versus Sara or the Witchblade, too, but...

Bakeneko has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro certainly doesn't know that, but she's taking the compliment. For the first time, the corner of her lips quirks upwards into a strained smile. "Damn right they would," she assures. As if gravity has a sense of irony, her right leg bows under her weight, forcing a squeak out of the Japanese girl and a redoubling of her cling to the gate. Boots scrape against the sidewalk a second before she finds her balance again. "<The Hell is the matter with me?>," she mutters to herself in Japanese.

Witchblade has posed:
Sara looks worried, but the squeak draws a slight amused look. "So that's a move the teach you in wrestling school?" she asks. Then an idea hits her. Maybe if this woman has something to focus on, she won't be so rubber legged. It's worth a shot, rightt? Right?

Bakeneko has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro refocuses on Sara when she asks her question, and responds at first with a crinkling of her button nose. "It's your American landscape. Unsteady and lopsided," she chides. "Like it was all designed by Dr. Seuss, or that guy who did Nightmare Before Christmas."

She finally finds her heels and pushes them against the sidewalk. She scoots her frame along the gate until she's standing upright again, and for all intents and purposes, looks normal. Granted, one hand continues to grip onto one of the metal bars as if it were a lifesaver.

Witchblade has posed:
"Yes we have green eggs and ham" Sara says dryly. "So you defeated gravity. Ding ding ding. Your winner, by standing up" she jokes. She does smartern up however when a cop car rolls past. "Great. Like I need more cops knowing where I am. Two officers come to speak with Sara. "Go back on your way, officers. I'm talking to a witness" she says, the officers driving away as Sara breathes a sigh of relief. She waits till they're gone to speak. "Look. I know I may be hard on you, but, you're just..ya know....I think you need to go lay down and rest is what I'm saying" Sara says gently.

Bakeneko has posed:
"Eat it, gravity," mutters Katsumi.

Katsumi props her shoulder against the gate, just for its own sake. Just in case, you know? But she watches the cops and Sara interact with some growing uncertainty, a slender obsidian eyebrow perking. Once they leave, she slides a conspiratorial look over to Sara with an as-yet unspoken question. "I'm gonna." Beat. "But I'm a witness now?," she asks. "Did they think something was up? Oh my god, did you call this in?!"

Witchblade has posed:
Sara shakes her head. "You're not in trouble. You're just a witness to a crime that doesn't exist. I had to tell those officers something to get them to leave" she says simply. It's legal, and....Sara pulled rank. They reported back she's working. Good. She does though look to Katsumi. "You look a lot better standing up, see" Sara nods.

Bakeneko has posed:
"That's like a weird reverse pick-up line," remarks Katsumi. "I could've just told'em police brutality." She pokes her tongue out at Sara in a clear and concise display of maturity.

At last, the cab she'd called is pulling alongside the curb. Katsumi gives it a glance, then back to Sara. "That for me?"

Witchblade has posed:
Sara nods. "Yeah it is. Hey, driver, here's a fifty. Take this woman where she wants to go and make sure she's safe, alright?" Sara asks, handing the cabbbie a $50. Plus a $10 tip too.

Bakeneko has posed:
Is fifty a lot? Katsumi can't remember offhand. It doesn't sound like a lot. She knows yen-to-dollars is way off, but it just hits her tired ear as being chump change. Still, the girl shuffle-staggers to the cab's door, pulls it open, and carefully sits - just so to avoid any mishaps with her skirt. She wears them often enough for it to be second-nature.

"The Plaza," Katsumi instructs, hoping that the driver gets it. He gives her a look, and she quickly clarifies, "The Plaza Hotel." Her head lulls aside to look to Sara, wordlessly grateful. But even now, her eyelids are drooping.