Kevin's Watch

Please post in here for Stories relating to Lordenshaw City Airport.

"Two things were going through my mind that moment: money, and guns, the two things I was going to need to survive in this town. I saw the night manager and asked about where the local gun store was."

The Lordenshaw International Terminal was empty, save for some cleaners milling about a large stain at the entrance to the foyer, and people departing customs. Staff members yawned behind mahogany and marble desks, eyes downcast and bored.

Malachi was facing the night manager, a tall yet overweight man in his early fifties, with a round face and a wide moustache. He was fingering a limp cigarette and staring over the kindred's shoulder into the night. "The local gun store? At this time?" The manager said with a laugh. "You have two options. Try downtown or the CBD. It's late, so I doubt anyone will be open. But," he said with sharp intake of breath, "you can try the Scope & Barrel Gun Supply; Garry might let someone in at this hour if that person waves a wad of cash in his face."

The manager placed the cigarette into his mouth and shrugged. He then walked away.

Early morning light shines through the glass walls of the Loredenshaw International. Families, corporate jet-setters, models, and yawning students wait in clumps for their luggage to trundle by.

In a booth nearby, Hideo Nishi feeds American quarters into a coin slot. He sticks a card into a groove near the phone and dials the number he reads. The new city hadn't hit him yet. He was tired, sore, and desperate for a cigarrette.

'Hello?'

'Moshi-moshi . . . eeto . . . hello. This is Hideo Nishi. Excuse me . . . ahh . . .' English felt awkward to speak after such a long flight. Hideo's brain was firing out Japanese - nice, clear, logical Japanese - and the Gaijin-speak just wasn't catching up. 'Is Matuo Tirishimi available?'

The voice on the other end is clear and free of static. Hideo can tell that the man is smiling, as the inflection is slightly raised with hints of morning cheer.

"Ah, one moment."

Pause.

"Matuo Tirishimi here," says a firm voice, with a clipped tone. "Who is this?"

A plane roars overhead, and carrycases trundle along. The muttering of the crowds fills the air with a persistent seethe.

'Ah, Tirishimi-san'. Hideo wonders if he sounds impolite - his voice hangs with the weariness of his journey. 'It is . . . ahh, this is Hideo. Hideo Nishi. You asked me to call you when I arrived. How are you?'

[OOC - Hideo will make polite conversation, but will not want to waste much time. He is tired and in need of rest. His first aim will be to either go and meet Tirishimi in person, or arrange a time to meet him after some rest]

"Ah, Hideo," the voice with surprise, quickly losing its air of authority. "I heard you were coming to Lordenshaw city. Very good news you are here; thought you'd ignore my email."

There is a pause, during which a plane shoots overhead and some French tourists bump into Hideo. "Look," Matuo continues, "I will call doctor Ronalds and arrange a meeting with him this afternoon. He'll probably want to meet at the university here - Howell uni. You have a mobile or want to call me back at midday?"

'Nnnn,' Hideo sounds his approval. Hideo takes down the directions to the uni.

'I'll get some sleep and meet you all there. Bye,' he says, finding the little word a trifle silly.

[OOC - Hideo will head to a hotel and sleep until lunch, after which he'll shower and head to the university]

Hideo makes his way to a hotel near the airport - a squalid place known as Airway Beds. After paying a modest sum to rent a room for the day, he collapses on to the bed with fatigue and jet lag.

Hours later, he wakes, showers and then leaves the hotel. In the distance, he can see a line of taxis parked outside of a petrol station.