[Sodium_noir] a Snapshot in the Night

[Spikey]

Khan Akril
Yulan-Jin
The Shadow Umbra

The shade of Khan Akril, former leader of the Tongs, former Ganglord of Chinatown, pounded the relic pavements of Gothams 'otherside'. The land of the unquiet dead was busy, as it had been for days, and the local's kept to thier haunts to avoid the alien spooks as best they could. Akril did not care, whatever it was that had been done to him in Hell lent him some taint that these recently released spirits of Meso-America feared. He'd attempted to speak to several groups, often after observing them win hard fought battles that would have been described as bloody if it wasn't for the lack of that very substance on this side of the veil.

All of them, brave warriors to innocent maids, had fled at his approach. As frustrating as it was to be wandering the shadowlands in ignorance, Akril was pleased that they feared him. To be feared was to be great, he above all others knew that.

After Dark town he had headed North, through low rentsville (which looked ever worse on this side of the veil) to Neon City (almost a barren and empty plain in the shadowlands) into Uptown. Heading West he had strolled through the zoo and headed towards the Suburbs where the Gotham money lived. He figured that if the foreign dead wouldn't talk to him, maybe the locals would. And where better to find shades so avericious and greedy that they hung around after death than there?

The River had presented a problem at first, he'd never been a regular in this part of town to know where the bridges were. But trial and error revaled to him that in this land of echo's, the river was as solid as the earth beneath his feet, even though it still flowed. 

And so he wound up in the Burrough of the elite. The Houses here were old and cherished, and most of them had echoes in the shadowlands. Many of the industrialists and shipping magnates who built Gotham had thier mansions and estates in this area, on higher ground with lush orchards and stunning views. The feral wraiths still battling tooth and claw through the city hadn't made it up to this district and the place was quiet except for one street that seemed to be the centre of mortal interest tonight. 

Akril wasn't interested in the living tonight, they could neither see nor hear him and so would be unable to serve him. As he walked, one foot falling in front of the other without much thought, it slowly dawned on the former Sorcerer that he was being drawn somewhere. So long as he didn't think about it too much his feet seemed to know where to go, and so he let them lead him. 

Lead him to a house with distinct Chinese elements. The Gateposts were adorned with Temple dogs and lanterns hung from the trees. More important was the Funeral pagoda in the garden and the fact that the gates themselves were open. He entered and approached the pagoda, the haze from the josticks seeming to bring a mild euphoria. Slowly he drifted intot he enclosure to see who had died. The photo was large, in a gilt frame. As expensive as one would expect from the size of the house. Akril peered at the picture of the mourned man and a smile slowly spread across his face.

Now he knew why he had been drawn here!

Pai Lun-Lee
Mortal
The Lun-Lee compound
Uptown

The old man wept!

Notorious shark in the boardroom, cold hearted gun runner and recently legitimised crook Pai Lun-Lee wept openly for his dead son; John. The son who had been taken from him early Thursday morning, poisoned with a substance the authorities had failed to identify beyond 'some form of biological acid'. In truth, the boy had taken a number of sleeping pills with a glass of water. Water containing the ichor of an Assamite Vampire named San-Berto. A vampire bent on gaining revenge against the Lun-Lee's for killing his own family. Nobody other than San-berto would ever know the truth and the absence of that knowledge was tearing the father to pieces.

The old man was draped over the open coffin, babbling about revenge and what he would give just to have John back in his arms. His family and servants had tried to console him, speak to him. he had struck them with his cane. Ignored their warnings about his heart. Spat in their faces. 

Mako, the man who was supposed to be John's bodyguard, stood just outside the door listening to the spite and the wrath. The Thugs that had brought him in a hour ago hadn't needed to beat him up or drag him, he'd come without a fuss. he'd already been out beating heads and asking questions, his own attempts to find the killer of his former master. He had failed and now he awaited his death with a cold acceptance. He'd been lucky to get three days while the old man's grief crippled him. 

The sobbing stopped all of a sudden. Like a switch being flicked. Pai Lun-Lee stood and straightened his jacket, dabbed his eyes with a silk handkerchief. 

<"In!"> he barked. 

The Thugs escorted Mako into the room and left hurriedly as soon as they were dismissed.

Khan Akril
Yulan-Jin
The Shadow Umbra

Akril sat on the window still listening to the sobbing and to what followed. When he'd been alive he'd known the Lun-Lee cartel very well. Sometimes as allies, sometimes as competetors. Much of the Heroin and human cargo that came out of Beijing into Gotham came through their hands and Akril was often required to deal with them to keep up his own empire. Other times, they had traded influence. The Lun-Lee's had contacts in Uptown, Akril owned Chinatown. It was all bussiness, nothing more.

Akril listened as well as he could. It wasn't that he had trouble hearing, Lun-Lee was less than three metres away and shouting most of the time. No, his concentration was split between the conversation, full of juicy insider informatioin as it was, and the body of John Lun-Lee. The cold three day old corpse held an unnatural fascination to the Wraith. 

He felt naked and rather uncomfortable. As if in one of those dreams where he was sat in a classroom full of his peers at school and all he needed to do was pick up the clothes in the box and put them back on. To not do so felt foolish, thats what felt uncomfortable. Only the box didn't hold his clothes, they held the body of John Lun-Lee.

Akril's ghsotly form got up and went to peek inside the coffin. To stare into the dead eyes of the late yuppie hoodlum.

Pai Lun-Lee, Mako
Mortals
The Lun-Lee compound
Uptown

"You tell me this why?" Pai Lun-Lee yelled at Mako. The ex bodyguard had explained his investigations over the past few days, with his held held low. "You think I will spare you because you have not slept? because after you failed to protect my son you went to look for his killer ... and FAILED?"

"No Lord!" Mako replied firmly. "I simply report so that you may make use of the information. Nothing more!"

"I am going to kill you, do you know that? I am going to have you tortured and then I am going to have you shot like a dog. In the face! There will be no open coffin for your father Mako. I am going to have you shot like a Dog!"

"Yes Lord!" Mako replied without emotion.

"You could at least beg for your life you worthless dog!" Said Pai Lun-Lee.

"I would do anything for you Lord ... except that!" Mako was emphatic.

"Then what use are you Mako?" Pai asked. "You could not protect my son and you cannot even give me that small pleasure!"

"Oh shut the fuck up you pathetic old goat!" John Lun-Lee sighed from the open coffin. Sitting up and wiping the old mans snot and tears from his cheek. "All I've heard is your yapping and bitching and moaning."

"John .." The old man wailed "John, you are back!" Mako simply stood in wide eyed shock, but the old man who had previosuly threatened to kill him now hung onto him for support.

"Of course I am back." John snarled. "I couldn't stand to hear you whining all the way in Yomi wan." Akril was pretty sure he was doing a fair impersonasion of the Dead man. When the words came out of his new mouth he even sounded like John Lun-Lee, much to his surprise. 

It had taken a couple of minutes to settle into the cold flesh and repair the damage. Reconstituting the body had drained him more than he had thought possible, but as dog tired as he was he wasn't about to blow this oportunity. A new, unoccupied body, younger and more handsome than his own. More importantly a new body without the member torn off by his demonic sponsor. A Body with access to a criminal organisation, lots of money and the means by which to regain his former kingdom and revenge on Titus Bane, the Corpse bastard who had killed him!"

He slid out of the coffin as Mako helped Pai towards his recently resurrected son.

"No, no!" The old man said. "You were not in Yomi wan, you couldn't be. You must have been in a coma! Yes that was it, a Coma!"

"Yeah, sure, whaddever!" Akril replied, leaning towards the olds mans open arms and reaching round to tak a gun from Mako's waistband. The Tough oriental bruiser hadn't let the thugs touch him, and his reputation made them simply glad he came along quietly. They hadn't even disarmed him. Honour among thieves seemed to extend to some really dumb extents in this outfit.

He whipped the gun out. A Desert eagle, nice feel, reassuringly heavy. Pointed it at Pai Lun-Lee's head and emptied it into the old mans ecstaticly happy face.

"Clear that up!" he barked at the huddle of thugs as they rushed in. "And stop gawping like that. You, bring me a drink and gather the boys. We've got a lot of work to do tonight with pappy gone!"




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