08-07-2018, 01:45 AM
“Sorry.” Gogo replied with a cheerful smile at the despair she had inspired in the angelic figure, “I suppose I’m just not that kind of girl~.”
The offer, though, was interesting.
“What I may ask of you, hm?”
The strange flying woman became a lot more interesting with that promise made. Gogo hadn’t actually been to school, ever, but she understood the basic principles and she’d had some textbooks in her time. The Yakuza weren’t too concerned about making sure that she got a rounded and balanced education, but there was an expectation that she’d not be a total idiot.
The girl looked to the Stormtroopers for their opinions, and was met only with blank, expressionless masks. Useless.
“Alright.” She said, “I suppose I can give you something, and it would be a good test of how this works. Making something when I don’t remember all of it, I wouldn’t have thought that’d have worked. Let’s just say you owe me a favour.”
Debt, obligation and favours were important concepts in the world of the Yakuza. Gogo herself might be entirely unbound from them, not particularly caring one way or another what other people expected her to do, but she understood the power that they held over most. It might be useful, in the long run. And if it wasn’t, what had she lost? It would still be an interesting test of her new abilities. Wanting and creating her weapon had been second nature. Populating the inside of a textbook that she’d maybe flicked through once? That was a far more interesting proposition.
Still unwilling to draw her right hand into the open, Gogo instead held out her left and concentrated. Several minutes passed in awkward silence, with the Stormtroopers shifting nervously and uncomfortably as the shimmering rainbow light danced across the girl’s palm, swirling and shifting as it tried to coalesce into the form she had in mind.
What formed was a slender volume – bound in black with kanji printed stark white against it. The Kokutai No Hongi – Cardinal Principles of the National Entity of Japan. Strictly speaking, the work had been banned after the second world war and was by no account mainstream. Xenophobic, nationalistic and shot through with tension as Japan prepared to enter the war that would redefine its entire social and political development for Gogo’s generation, it was nevertheless the first thing she thought of when she thought of ‘history book’. The Yakuza, apparently, had a rather different view of what teenage girls should be learning about their country than the average Japanese high school.
Carelessly, she tossed the book towards Jibril, apparently no longer interested in the work now that she had completed its creation.
“There you go.” She said, easily. “If you want to know about the country I am from, that is probably the best place to go for information. I hope you find it enlightening~.”
Finally, she turned back to the Captain, and gave a loose shrug of her shoulders.
“Why are you still here?” She asked, “Not to be rude, but, you’ve done your job. I’m going to investigate your home. You can probably go now.”
The Captain was taken aback, audible in his voice even through the distortion of his mask. “I was going to offer an escort to the Gate. As the woman says, this is a dangerous-“
Gogo cut him off with a sharp shake of her head.
“I will be fine.” She said, “I have my new friend to watch my back now. Run along.”
A vague gesture in the direction of Jibril, still flicking through the nationalistic literature. Jibril was certainly right about one thing; Gogo had far too much confidence to actually be a normal schoolgirl. There was absolutely no fear of the Stormtroopers in her, at all.
The offer, though, was interesting.
“What I may ask of you, hm?”
The strange flying woman became a lot more interesting with that promise made. Gogo hadn’t actually been to school, ever, but she understood the basic principles and she’d had some textbooks in her time. The Yakuza weren’t too concerned about making sure that she got a rounded and balanced education, but there was an expectation that she’d not be a total idiot.
The girl looked to the Stormtroopers for their opinions, and was met only with blank, expressionless masks. Useless.
“Alright.” She said, “I suppose I can give you something, and it would be a good test of how this works. Making something when I don’t remember all of it, I wouldn’t have thought that’d have worked. Let’s just say you owe me a favour.”
Debt, obligation and favours were important concepts in the world of the Yakuza. Gogo herself might be entirely unbound from them, not particularly caring one way or another what other people expected her to do, but she understood the power that they held over most. It might be useful, in the long run. And if it wasn’t, what had she lost? It would still be an interesting test of her new abilities. Wanting and creating her weapon had been second nature. Populating the inside of a textbook that she’d maybe flicked through once? That was a far more interesting proposition.
Still unwilling to draw her right hand into the open, Gogo instead held out her left and concentrated. Several minutes passed in awkward silence, with the Stormtroopers shifting nervously and uncomfortably as the shimmering rainbow light danced across the girl’s palm, swirling and shifting as it tried to coalesce into the form she had in mind.
What formed was a slender volume – bound in black with kanji printed stark white against it. The Kokutai No Hongi – Cardinal Principles of the National Entity of Japan. Strictly speaking, the work had been banned after the second world war and was by no account mainstream. Xenophobic, nationalistic and shot through with tension as Japan prepared to enter the war that would redefine its entire social and political development for Gogo’s generation, it was nevertheless the first thing she thought of when she thought of ‘history book’. The Yakuza, apparently, had a rather different view of what teenage girls should be learning about their country than the average Japanese high school.
Carelessly, she tossed the book towards Jibril, apparently no longer interested in the work now that she had completed its creation.
“There you go.” She said, easily. “If you want to know about the country I am from, that is probably the best place to go for information. I hope you find it enlightening~.”
Finally, she turned back to the Captain, and gave a loose shrug of her shoulders.
“Why are you still here?” She asked, “Not to be rude, but, you’ve done your job. I’m going to investigate your home. You can probably go now.”
The Captain was taken aback, audible in his voice even through the distortion of his mask. “I was going to offer an escort to the Gate. As the woman says, this is a dangerous-“
Gogo cut him off with a sharp shake of her head.
“I will be fine.” She said, “I have my new friend to watch my back now. Run along.”
A vague gesture in the direction of Jibril, still flicking through the nationalistic literature. Jibril was certainly right about one thing; Gogo had far too much confidence to actually be a normal schoolgirl. There was absolutely no fear of the Stormtroopers in her, at all.
![[Image: YkB0u8S.jpg]](https://i.imgur.com/YkB0u8S.jpg)