Gone for awhile was Jonathan. Out delievering Usef to one of Michael's boys away from any prying eyes. Though chances are you both feel the slight disturbance that heralds Nimo's arrival. Similarly there is another disturbance that announces his exit.
     Not long after the flimsy door of the shack is pushed open. And it is Jonathan that enters again. A smile is on his face. In his hand he holds his military duffle now. Complete with all his... bare nessecities if you will. Looking to around as he closes the door behind him. "I really like that guy somedays." Jonathan says with a whistful sigh as he sets down his duffle bag and kneels down beside it so it can be opened and a stock of ordiance be taken.

     For his part, Soldekai stands near the internal wall of the bathroom, eyes closed. Only when Jonathan arrives does he open hazel orbs to look, but as with all things, it is not necessary. He's Listening for what he needs to know.
     "You will have to tell me of this Nimo and Usef one day, Jonathan," comes Soldekai's voice. "They are...useful beings both." Never hurts to extend the radius of influence. He exhales and eyes tighten, as if a passing frown or decision made.
     Then eyes open again. "We may be able to send our sandy associate back to where we discovered him." Some information conveyed. "Though, this does not bode well for...other exploits in the area." Investigating the Valley, as was the original intent. "That may need to wait for a while. And, unfortunately, some know now that we are looking...but then again," Soldekai smiles, "...we know they are looking as well."

     Gone is the juggling bedouin, Allah's jester. In his place, The Accidental Tourist. Clothes have been exchanged. Some half-shimmering motion and sound nearly Symphonic. O, if it had not been for the plucking notes out of tune. Brief though they were...
     And in their fading, he was altered. Robes exchanged for a white linen shirt. Cloaks exchanged for canvas pants, olive drab. Hiking boots. And where the linen shirt parts to show the hollow of his throat, the very summit of his chest, there is a gathering of trinkets. Things collected, pulled out of pockets.
     A nugget of basalt held by a leather thong. A string of glass beads from a Murano bazaar. Brass and leather. Jasper and copper.
     He chimes when he walks...
     See, there is a song about him yet...
     Kit looks up from where he sits upon the floor, a hand through dark and unruly curls. "We should let them think we will not look... return our friend to his desert home... and make like leaves and," he grins as he makes a whistling sound, a fluttering of hands and fingers, "...and flit away. Let the sand pool back to the earth... our rivals show themselves..."

     There is a rattle as Jack digs around in his duffle bag. Items are removed as he takes stock. An AK-47 with a doubled up clip to facilitate faster reloading. A pair of Colt .45 automatics. a Silenced Sig Sauer, A Walther Sniper rifle. An assortment of knifes and flares. Grenades made to dispearse clouds of white phospherus, boxes of ammo of various sizes. When he must be reaching to the bottom of the duffle he makes an 'ah ha' sounds. What he pulls out next is a double barreled Weatherby. The kind of things that you use to hunt elephant's and small helicopters with. Along the long metalic barel, written in black marker it says, 'JUST IN CASE'.
     Looking back to Soldekai the Jonathan gives a nod, "Well certainly. Not a lot to tell about Usef. He's pretty much your standard redemption job. He's connected as hell though. If you need ordinance and need it quickly, he's the guy to go to." He looks then to Kit and Back to Soldekai, "I'm afraid I missed something. Who else is trying to find the valley? Isn't it just a tourist stop?" There he goes. thinking like an Angel of War again. Must be nice to not thing outside the box.

     There's a raise of a golden brow at the notion of being connected to Hell. But Soldekai knows what you meant.
     "Yes. Maybe," Soldekai glances at Kit, as if expecting him to come in on cue. "But with this small stunt, I will presume that maybe someone else is thinking as we are." Well, the royal 'we', he must mean.
     "And nice to see you are prepared," Soldekai adds, motioning to the pack. Maybe someone spots the following quick frown, as if to say, 'good lord...' Someone's loaded for bear.

     Not even Patton or Tom Jones are so well-equipped...
     Kit does not yet rise, he's busy sorting out his pockets. Jack's not the only one loaded to the gills. If you were to hold Kit by his ankles and give him a good shake, you might find six of the seven wonders of the world suddenly strewn about the floor...
     ... in piles...
     "Ah well, that I could not tell you. I know precious little when the world is awake..." Kit's mouth lifts and his eyebrows waggle. And with a wink, silver light scatters. "Waiting on me?" And then he springs up...
     Hands in his pockets, each pocket -- and there are ~many~ of those -- is fastened, the velcro scritching. "So, whither shall we go? Jonathan's loaded for the Second Coming..."
     Tsk... such blasphemy...
     No wonder you're dissonant...

     Jack is many things, Imperceptive is not among them. Looking to Soldekai as the frown is caught out of the corner of his eye the Cherub says, "Perhaps it is over kill, but you cannot put a price tag on haveing the impliments to fight the forces of Hell without disturbing the Symphony." That being said with a military precision he begins to pack away all those damned weapons back into his duffle bag. "Well one never knows when the second coming is going to be. God always loved a suprised." And in the span of that, everything is tucked back into that duffle fitting exactly where it's supposed to go. "I am ready when you guys are." A look to Soldekai then, "Look on the bright side.... At least I don't walk around packing all my heat."

     "I think it will be on a Wednesday. It's good for symmetry," his voice slides deep, in concert with the smile. But then Kit rolls his shoulders, wrinkling his nose, reaching to scratch an itch at a shoulderblade. "I am not used to be confined again," he rolls in angelic. The music jaunts pavanne. "I just cannot get comfortable..."
     Like it's a pillow or a new blanket. A newly starched shirt, this mortal living.
     "I am ready when you are, Sol," a drop into the familiar. "And Jonathan's ready for... ahhhh..." The sudden look of bliss! The rapture! The itch found and captured. "... anything..."

     "Anything," Soldekai grins. "We return...Sakir..." he has such a hard time calling him by a name, "...and that is it. We have located where he might spend his time," a grin at Jonathan, "...not a hard operation. After that...who knows. Maybe Americas for a bit. Then...we decide what to do about the valley. How's that for a plan?" Soldekai glances around to each of you, waiting to hear suggestions or other ideas. "Put it this way...if there is something in the Valley," he explains, "...then it is better that we find it...instead of the others."
     "It's a story," Soldekai turns, saying to Jonathan, "...supposedly a bag...of Infinite Vessels..."

     The duffle is zipped closed and Jack turns to face Kit. "I have to be ready for anything. My job is to protect you." He says that as if it would explain it all. He stands up and hoists the strap of the duffle over his shoulder. "So then.." he looks to Soldekai. "Return the dustman and lay low in the Americas? I might be underarmed for that but sure..." As Soldekai explains what is rummored to be in the valley, Jonathan's eye grow a bit wider, "You're shitting me?" There is more concern than disbelieve in his voice. "If such a thing exists we could have a whole new Legion Incident on our hands."

     "I think tea in Boston, or coffee in Seattle," arms now folding against his chest, Kit places his vote. "A good plan... we go now, and we may be walk into an ambush. Or worse, lead them straight to it. I think the sands should cool. And perhaps... there are other ways to find it. Ways those who are looking for it might not have yet thought of."
     Like finding it from the Marches, for example...
     Ribald pulls the smile. Lifted humor and a twinge of something wholly Galadriel spreading across his mouth. It is easiest to see the angel within the man when he smiles. "I think your job is to protect me from myself, isn't it?" And that tickles him suddenly. Kit presses his lower lip between finger and thumb and dark eyebrows lift. "Course, that in mind, you might need to arrange for a cannon, Jack.."

     "Come on," Soldekai smiles at notions of tea and saving one's self. Shaking his head, he points at Kit, "You get...it...together," finger motioning at Sakir, "...and we will meet you outside in a few moments." You are best to explain to Sakir what is to happen. "Jonathan and I will discuss...what we're going to do after we drop him off..."
     Passing Sakir, Soldekai only glances at the man, opening the door ahead of him and turning to see Jonathan's approach.
     "And no," he remembers to add, "...I'm not shitting you."

Posted by rowan at May 15, 2003 11:21 PM