5347/Follow that Antique

Follow that Antique
Date of Scene:	26 February 2021
Location:	New York Pawn Shop #2324
Synopsis:	Rose buys a mysterious clue from Blade to track down ninjas.
Cast of Characters:	Eric Brooks, Rose Wilson

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Eric Brooks has posed:
"No, I don't want to buy any knives. I came here because I wanted to sell you this made-in-a-Bangkok-sweatshop piece of shit."

Blade isn't the easiest customer to have, especially in a nice establishment.  He's found his way to a Brooklyn pawn shop that specializes in cutlery, antiques, and other oddities in addition to the usual televisions and small valuables.  The sword he's brought is hardly sweatshop material, it's just not something made with his own two hands.  Thus, he wants to sell it, along with several gold watches, two heavy-looking chains, and a handful of earrings in various sizes, shapes, and descriptions.

"I got it from some jackass in purple pajamas who picked the wrong neighborhood to sniff around in," he continues, answering another question from the clerk.  "Why do you care? Years, I've been coming here. You never ask where I get the Rolexes, what's the big deal about this thing?"

Rose Wilson has posed:
A single beady eye and an eyepatch peer up over top of a stack of books, staring down Blade from off to the side in the small pawnshop. She seems intently interested in what he's hocking to the pawn shop guy and squints at what he's doing. She steps around the books and heads up the aisle to get a better earfull of what this weirdo guy is saying to the idiot pawn shop dealer. She pauses at some stupid lamp in order to look like she's browsing but isn't a very good actress. She can be seen in fairly casual clothes, including jeans, instead of chainmail and other ass-kicking materials.

Looking over the lampshade, Rose frowns and departs from her hiding spot in order to approach Blade kinda mid-argument, "Hey," she states, putting a hand on her hip as she waits for his attention, "Where'd you get that sword?" she asks him, still frowning with concern and intent, "I've got to tell you, buddy...don't sell that." She glances back and forth between the sword and Blade to confirm her mysterious suspicions.

Eric Brooks has posed:
Meanwhile, Blade's transaction has been moving right along.  While he and the clerk seem to be at odds over what to do with the sword he's "acquired", they manage to agree on a price for the other valuables.  Rather than cash, the vampire hunter has been presented with the store's full collection of silverware.  To each their own.

He's inspecting the pieces with a critical eye, selecting them for their composition rather than their appearance.  As a result, he's accumulating a pile of forks and spoons that are both battered and tarnished.  Once the apparent exchange rate has been met, he pulls a wadded-up canvas bag out of a pocket in his ever-present trench coat and flaps it open so he can load it up.  The way it clanks is almost cartoonish.  The only thing the bag is missing is a giant dollar sign.

"Hmm?" he queries, cocking an eyebrow.  "There was a guy.  He was using it.  Then it didn't have an owner anymore, so it became mine.  It's nothing special as far as blades go, and I've already got one I'm partial to.  Why, you want it? 'cuz I don't."

Per usual, he's dressed in black.  While his bulletproof vest is in place, he's left off the bulky armor plates for his shoulders and shins.  His idea of being discreet, along with leaving his more obvious weaponry at home.  Other than the sack and sword, the only thing he has with him is a long document case, hard plastic and capped at both ends; it's the type normally used for carrying blueprints and other things that need to be rolled rather than folded. 

Rose Wilson has posed:
Rose Wilson seems a little impatient, especially as Blade keeps haggling with the idiot pawn shop owner. She stands there listening and really only came here on a chance that she might find some trackable material and she recognizes the dull sword now that she's close enough to see it in Blade's cartoony stash. She doesn't give much care of the rest of Blade's crap, or at least looks uninterested.

"Yeah, that's right. I want it," Rose tells him, "You can sell it to me," she suggests. She crosses her arms for a moment, and waits for Blade's answer. She wears a furry winter coat and doesn't...seem to be carrying any weapons at first and second glance.

"How much you want?" she asks him finally. She then puts a hand to her pocket, maybe to check if her moolah is still there.

Eric Brooks has posed:
"Looks like someone wrote a paper on Japan in middle school.  Bet you got an A, too."  Though his words are less than kind, Blade has a way of being both bland and wry at the same time and it doesn't come off as disparaging.  From the looks of him, if he wanted to insult intentionally, he could probably find a way. 

It's a wakizashi, so it's manageably small.  Small enough for him to hold the scabbard in one hand and use the same thumb to draw out a few inches of gleaming metal.  It's an adequate weapon, but no more. 

He only thinks for a few seconds, then he holds it out.  "Hundred bucks.  It's probably worth five or more, but somehow I doubt you're looking for resale value."

Rose Wilson has posed:
Rose Wilson smirks at Blade after he makes his little joke, "Uh huh," she tells him, finally relaxing slightly now that he's offered a price for the mundane weapon, "Yeah, I'm a deadly ass-ass-in and I need some cheap backup," she retorts, immediately sounding sarcastic with her retort.

Rose takes the blade from Blade (hehe) and looks at it, looking down the hilt, but then stops and glances back at blade so she doesn't let him on to much more of her interest or why she wants the sword, "Yeah okay, fine. Hundred bucks. And...where did you say you got it again?" she wonders. She sticks her hand into her pocket and retrieves the cash, folding it out then offering it to him.

Eric Brooks has posed:
"Like I said, the former owner no longer needed it.  Call it a surprise windfall."  Blade doesn't quite smile.  He's not incapable, but it doesn't happen very frequently.  If it did, though, he'd be smiling right now.  As it is, we'll call this showing his teeth in a more-or-less friendly fashion.

He also raises another curious eyebrow.  "You seem pretty keen to get your hands on it, considering it's something I could make in a couple of days.  Now that it's yours, why is it so special? Go on, I'm not going to try and take it back."

Rose Wilson has posed:
Rose Wilson shrugs a bit, "Your gain, free hundred bucks," she comments after she turns over the cash. She tilts her head as Blade jokes about taking the blade back, "I think it's a damn clue," she tells him truthfully at last.

Rose glances up at the pawn shop owner until he goes to his register to ring something up, at least somewhat out of earshot, so she can look back at Blade, "I'm after some info and I was thinking their swords could tell me something," she explains, "This one asshole is up to something and I'm just looking into it," she adds vaguely, sorta not giving details to Blade in order to keep it mysterious and to not give so much away.

Eric Brooks has posed:
"So it's not the sword you're after, it's the purple pajamas."  Blade loops an arm through the document case's carrying strap, then slings his clanking sack over the opposite shoulder.  He glances toward the clerk as well, then gives his head a subtle, sideways jerk to indicate that they should take a few more steps.

When he continues, his booming voice is pitched a little lower than usual.  "That's a dangerous crowd, Mary Read.  Whatever you're looking for, it might be best if you let it stay buried.  Or, you know, go swashbuckle.  Whatever works for you."

Rose Wilson has posed:
Rose Wilson purses her lips as Blade suddenly turns toward giving her advice, so she looks like she's said too much, "Yeah yeah," she comments, taking a few steps away from the counter and the check-out register..

"Rose," she comments, "Not Mary," she tells him and looks at the sword once more before putting it back in a pawn shop bag the retailer gave her. "I can't. They're sorta stalking me. So I'm stalking them. Sorta," she says and shrugs a little, "So you're an antique dealer?" she asks.

Eric Brooks has posed:
"Nah.  Well, sort of."  Blade shoots a look around the interior of the shop.  More than a few of the items adorning the shelves and walls have been brought here by him.

"Sometimes I acquire things.  It's a long story.  I'm not really much for the things themselves, so I sell them here."  The bag gets a tinkly-sounding shake.  "Convert them to materials for my own blades.  Anyway, what's a one-eyed girl like you doing getting stalked by the likes of them?  Forget to pay your monthly dues at the dojo?"

Rose Wilson has posed:
Rose Wilson hmms and glances at that ugly lamp again as if she doesn't know, which is pretty clear, "I think my parents knew them," she says, and pauses before she says, "I might be getting into trouble but I gotta keep going. Anyways, not like I can tell these assholes to get lost. There's so god damn many of them," she explains.

"You have more blades?" Rose asks him, "You should see my back wall," she snickers, motioning with her hand to make him picture a wall with sharp stabby weapons.

Eric Brooks has posed:
"I have a few," he admits, putting it extremely mildly.  Now one side of his mouth does pull upward into a small smile.  "My name is Blade.  No, I didn't give it to myself."

Her words elicit a shrug.  In his world, you're a combatant as soon as you decide you want to fight.  Age isn't really a factor.  So rather than the usual platitudes or dissuasions, he just says, "Careful.  I'd recommend copious amounts of explosives.  Always seems to get the job done when somebody calls for an exterminator."

Rose Wilson has posed:
When he goes back to giving her advice, Rose waves at him, "Yeah yeah," she says, "I'll borrow your explosives," Rose tells him affirmitively, "Blade. Yeah, good idea, that'll be some surprise," she says and nods a few times, as if she thinks over his pretty cool name, "That rocks," she adds.

"Exterminator? Yeah well, just don't call The Terminator," she says and smirks.