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My childhood spat back out the monster that you see

+ Alice Forsythe

The information presented to her did make Sonnet arch an eyebrow, this woman's sources were good, there was more here on the Yakuza's operations in North America than she herself had access to. She'd place good money that even Kenshin, her boss, would have struggled to amass this much intelligence. Tapping the screen, she scrolled through pages of notes, financial reports and photographs that documented the operations of the Sumiyoshi. There was more, but she tore herself away from the tablet, she didn't want to present it as too valuable after all.

Even then, Sonnet couldn't keep the surprise from her face as Alice proffered the hard drive. Information was not free, certainly not in her business, and information like this was extremely expensive. Expensive enough that she instantly suspected a trap.

Carefully one hand moved to pull at her collar. There was a gun concealed beneath her jacket, close enough to be pulled and fired in a split second, should this prove to be an ambush. She drops her hand back to the table at the woman's next words however. Nodding, it suddenly made sense. Why else would someone come to a meeting like this with such a large bargaining chip.

"Sounds about right."

She sighed, she'd had an encounter with Tank several months ago, an encounter she'd lost. Since then everyone seemed to assume that the two were on good terms. They weren't, at least not what most might deem good terms. That said, he hadn't killed her when he'd had the chance, and Sonnet had been eager to work off that debt. She had more of a connection to the Program than she would like. In addition to that, she had the resources of a powerful organisation to work with. Almost nobody knew of her strange relationship with the New York Hero, but if this woman had managed to turn up so much about the Sumiyoshi then maybe she'd been able to find something about Tank.

She leaned back, not playing up that she might be one of the best placed people outside of the Program to locate information about it. "What exactly do you want to know?"

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My childhood spat back out the monster that you see

+ Evelyn Winters

"Cool, I've got chairs too."

Sonnet tries to ignore the fact that her voice comes out huskier even than normal. Instead she careful leads Evelyn into the building. The night watchman glances up as she enters, but knows better than to comment on her arrival. She'll have to ensure that his envelope is extra thick this month, she doesn't want any word of her having a female guest to spread, no matter how innocent.

She stays away from Evelyn in the lift, consciously controlling their proximity. At least there is a handrail in there, so Evelyn should have no need of Sonnet's support. At least not until they arrive on Sonnet's floor. She takes her arm again then, steering her carefully through the corridors until they arrive at her own door. It only takes a moment to get the door open and Evelyn into the apartment.

She leaves Evelyn at the door, striding away into the kitchen to pull a bottle of sake from the cupboard. It's good stuff, but it barely touches the sides as she twists the cap off and pours a good measure down her throat. It burns on the way down, and she gasps as the sensation wakes her a little. It won't take long for the booze to kick in, but right now the strong flavour has sharpened her senses. She turns back to the door, to Evelyn. A careless gesture appears to take in the entire apartment.

The room is open plan, a well fitted kitchen and breakfast island taking up one side of the room, while expensive designer furniture in black and white fill the lounge. The bed is large, immaculately made, and dressed in silk sheets. The wooden katanakake stands in the corner, brooding. It's been a while since she drew one of those swords in anger.

"Make yourself at home…"

The buzz is definitely making itself known at the back of her skull now.

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My childhood spat back out the monster that you see

+ Evelyn Winters

The cab driver was about to pull away when Sonnet waved a hundred-dollar bill at him. He hesitated, greed warring with concern for the upholstery of his cab. Greed won out, and he kept the cab stationary while Sonnet carefully stashed Evelyn in one side of it. She didn't comment on the vomit, it hadn't been the reason she was avoiding teleportation anyway. Her metabolism powered her ability, using it burned it harder than it did already, including anything it was processing. It was great if she needed to sober up quickly, not so great if she wanted to stay drunk. Instead she tired not to think too much about Evelyn's earlier words.

I want to keep being with you.

She didn't like the implication of those words; it made her chest hurt. She climbed in easily, her steady movements betraying none of the buzz she had been nursing for the last few hours. It was there though, and she knew the whiskey she had drunk at the last bar would kick in soon enough. Hopefully it would alleviate some of the strange feelings she was battling in this moment.

She gave the driver her address, not particularly concerned about Evelyn hearing. Perhaps that whiskey was already having an effect, perhaps it didn't matter. There was a good chance the woman would remember precisely nothing of tonight. The driver gave the clearly intoxicated Evelyn another warning look, clearly not looking forward to potentially having to swab out his car, hundred bucks or not. He tossed a brown paper bag over the back of the seat.

Sonnet had moved across when she'd gotten into the car, letting her keep the unsteady Evelyn upright by wedging her between her own body and the door. She is awfully aware of the closeness of their contact and disguises this awkwardness by unfolding the paper bag and placing it on Evelyn's lap should she need it.

The cab driver doesn't talk, merely pulling out into traffic on their way downtown. The cab, meanwhile, is silent. Sonnet doesn't talk, too busy struggling with her own confusing thoughts at this point. It wouldn't be the first point she has taken someone home, to her home. But never a woman. It wouldn't have bothered her had it not been for the other strange emotions, thoughts and actions that had risen, unbidden, throughout the night. She shifts slightly, unconsciously in her discomfort, the side of her leg presses against Evelyn's.

She doesn't notice the awful proximity until the cab pulls to a halt outside of her apartment building. She pulls sharply away from Evelyn as she leans over to pay the driver, throwing the hundred dollars at him and telling him to keep the change.

"Come on, you need water, and bed."

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My childhood spat back out the monster that you see

+ Evelyn Winters

It was, it would have been racist towards anyone from China, what made it even worse was the fact that Sonnet was actually Japanese. Sonnet ignored the comment anyway. That in itself was out of character, it wouldn't be the first time someone had thrown a racial or gender-based slur at her. She couldn't explain why she hadn't immediately slammed Evelyn's face off the table, instead waiting patiently while the considerably more drunken woman stood up.

Maybe it was the buzz.

That same buzz was probably why she smirked and rolled her eyes as the bottle shattered on the ground. The ground turned to stare, though Evelyn either didn't notice, or didn't care. Judging by her level of intoxication, it was more likely to be the former. That particular level of buzz meant she was probably going to have trouble standing, let alone walking.

Sonnet's prediction proved accurate as Evelyn almost immediately tipped forward towards the ground, stumbling until she managed to regain some semblance of balance. Narrowly avoiding a sliced open palm from the glass on the floor, she turned and put an arm around Sonnet's shoulders instead, leaning heavily on the shorter woman.

For a fraction of a second Sonnet stiffened at the contact, before her own buzz mellowed out her muscles. She supported the younger woman towards the door, picking her way carefully around the shattered glass, these were five hundred dollar boots after all. It took a moment's navigation to get them past the steps at the entrance of the bar.

Sonnet didn't realise until they were out of the dingy space that she had unconsciously shifted, drawing the other woman closer. It made sense for getting up and down steps for some this drunk, a greater point of contact, but one that was no longer necessary on the relatively flat streets.

She didn't move away though, some part of her keeping her closer to the rangy woman. "I don't know where you live, and somehow I doubt you're in any state to tell me. So we'll go back to mine."

Normally Sonnet's night would have continued for several hours yet, but Evelyn couldn't walk unsupported and Sonnet couldn't exactly babysit her all the way around town. She wasn't particularly excited about taking the girl home either, but it seemed the only real solution, and she seemed to have landed herself with the responsibility. Raising a hand, she attracted the attention of a taxi.

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My childhood spat back out the monster that you see

+ Evelyn Winters

Humility seemed to be the answer to Sonnet's question. The pathetic heap of drunken flesh huddled opposite Sonnet couldn't be further from the arrogant, foolish woman that Sonnet had first met. She might have been clever enough to take on a wannabe Hero like Gravity Girl, but she'd been taught a sharp lesson by a metahuman who actually knew how to use the power they had been granted.

Sonnet listened quietly as Evelyn spoke, the other woman beginning to tear up at her own words. Sonnet was good at this. She had never been one for speeches anyway, but ever since her own injury she'd avoided speech even more. The misshapen scar at her throat worked as more of the whiskey flowed down her throat. She reached out for the bottle, still firmly on her side of the table, and poured another glass for herself and a smaller one for Evelyn.

At least the brother explained the strange bursts of gibberish the brunette had thrown out from time to time. If she'd been hallucinating a lost member of her family maybe she had been speaking to him in a second language. The thought made Sonnet melancholy. Would she have endured the apparent stigma of insanity to spend more time with her father?

She sips the whiskey again, "When you're like us you lose people."

It was part of the life they led. Just one of the many risks. "An overdose isn't your fault. Did you fill the needle? Stick it into his veins?"

Sonnet may run rackets for the Yakuza, but she also runs most of the dealers in this part of New York. Like many of the things she does, it has begun to weigh heavily upon her conscience, as if it is a cloth now so filled with liquid it can hold no more guilt. She leaned forwards. "He did it to himself. I know that doesn't make things any easier, but if he was anything like you I bet that stopping him would have been impossible anyway."

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My childhood spat back out the monster that you see

+ Sonnet Matsuda

The voice on the other end of the phone was curt and colourless. Kenshin had that effect. Sonnet was never sure whether the man only owned grey suits or whether his wearing of them washed the colour out. He looked more like an accountant than a Yakuza boss, sounded like one too. Yet he was one of the most powerful and feared men on the East Coast.

"Explain."

Everything was efficient, smuggling, drug dealing, trafficking. Even the way he spoke used the absolute minimum of breath for the maximum of effect. That voice could set men twenty year's Sonnet's senior trembling. She was too powerful, and right now, too hungover to care.

"It's done, he's dead."

His eyes, not afraid, not angry, but calm, flashed before her own.

"Witnesses."

The little girl. She couldn't have been much older than five. Those big, innocent, wide eyes. Had she understood what was going on? Sonnet didn't hurt children. She knew that the Yamaguchi-Gumi dealt in people, and from time to time those people would be children. She had distanced herself from those parts of the business, to the detriment of her rise in the ranks. Father Mathias had approved, though he would sooner she had left the Yakuza. Sonnet choked out the next word.

"No."

She was lying. Kenshin hung up. He would likely have her report to him later in the day, or even in the week, depending on his level of displeasure. Right now he had what he needed. Sonnet grabbed her coat. She was going to visit Mathias.