The words look good in pen, but sound better from my mouth

Yoka was dressed in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Her dark hair was pulled up into a bun and her eyes were covered by a pair of thick black aviators. She was sprawled out ontop of the large tank that was parked in front of The Cross Fox and had the strip club's logo painted on the side of it.

Yoka texted Steven earlier that morning: Can you meet me for lunch? I'm buying. No explosions this time. I mostly promise on that one, but I can't make any guarantees.

Yoka's entire world had been messed up since the onsen incident. On one hand, she had Murphy up in her apartment in her bed. So that was a plus. But on the other hand, it completely shook her world view. It changed how she looked at the people in her life. And....she still owed Steven an apology. She would do that in person.

She hoped he could find the place. It was pretty noteworthy, but she kept her phone on her anyway while she suntanned ontop of the tank.

@Steven

Yoka lifted her head when she heard Steven's voice. She rolled onto her side and gave him a smile, patting the tank beneath her.

"Well, my car is still at the onsen," she admitted. "And don't worry, the only thing this puppy shoots is t-shirts."

Yoka slid off the tank and grabbed her purse from where it was hanging over the gun. She swung the strap over her shoulder and looked at the young man before her.

Yoka did something she had not done in years.

She leaned her head forward and bowed.

"Steven, I owe you an apology," Yoka said. "When I invited you along, I must admit, I had ulterior motives, though I assumed my own certain skill set would be enough to see that things went smoothly. I have clearly overestimated myself and I put you in danger, and for that I must apologize."

Yoka straightened and said to him, "Please, let me take you for lunch. With no explosions. Anyplace you want, it will be my treat."

Steven took the scenario surprisingly well, which pleased Yoka. He moved on and so did she. Yoka supposed it helped that she had not actually dropped the building on Steven like she had Murphy.

As to food, Yoka considered this.

"The Underground isn't exactly known for it's delicacies, but there's a few places worth eating here if you know where to look," Yoka admitted. She cast a glance towards the club behind her. "Honestly, I spend more time here than my own home."

She held her arm out to Steven in case he wanted to be escorted, though it was more out of habit. Yoka said, "Do you have a preference? Or will burgers be fine? There's a place I get take out from a lot around here that's a mostly legitimate business."

She realized how that sounded, so Yoka gave him a smile.

"I can assure you, my businesses are legitimate. It's just that the whole underground has a reputation that's pretty well deserved."

"Oh!" Yoka said, delighted by his desire for caffeine and alcohol. "That's right! I owe you a birthday celebration as well. This will be perfect. This place has a drink menu that can give you the best of both worlds."

Yoka flashed him a sly smile, her amber eyes narrowing.

"Have you ever had a mixed drink with both yerba mate and chocolate liquor?" she asked, leading him down the narrow stone worked streets of the underground. "I'm not one of those women that goes crazy for chocolate, let me assure you of that, but it is one of the best things I ever drank."

She poked him in the ribs when he mentioned how skinny he was and Yoka tsked.

"You're right, much too skinny. Most of the scary things on this island wouldn't even get a mouthful if they tried to devour you," Yoka sighed, and though she was joking, her tone might make it difficult to determine that. "Better get you some cake. Do you prefer chocolate or vanilla?"


She found the building she was looking for: it was narrow and impossible squeezed between two shops that sold what looked like shady alchemical supplies and another that sold gently used skeletons.

"I swear the food here is fresh," Yoka teased and pushed the door open. It was a tiny bar-style room, longer rather than it was wide, and featured wood paneling. The wall was decorated in former wanted posters from the 1800's and onwards, a buffalo head on the wall, and an ample collection of liquor bottles, some of which glowed. The place smelled faintly of vodka and fried foods.

The bartender came quickly to take their order.

"So Steven," Yoka said, sliding onto a barstool. "Tell me about yourself. What do you do for fun?"

"Chocolate it is then," Yoka said, and she ordered both the chocolate drink for herself and told the bar tender to place a desert order in for the young man. Yoka crossed her long legs and rested her elbows on the counter, listening intently as Steven responded.

"Reading," Yoka remarked, and she grinned. "Any particular genres?"

Yoka herself was a fan of a good spy thriller.

His comment about not living long enough to learn even a fraction settled home with Yoka and felt a bit like the nudge of a cold blade against her ribs. It's not that she expected to die; as long as she didn't, Yoka would be immortal.

But what Steven said rang painfully true to her. Being human was a terminal condition.

"If you could live forever, or at least, say, a few centuries. Is that what you would do with your time? Study?" Yoka asked, tilting her head to the side. Her dark hair fell over her shoulder, a different shade of dark than the wood grained counter.

She returned his comment about the drinks easily.

"Let's see how many you can handle," she said, and she stuck her tongue out at him.

His question about Murphy drew her back into a somber mood. Thankfully, their drinks were there, so Yoka took a sip of hers before she answered.

"He'll live," she said, and then she flinched, because that wasn't a great way to phrase things. It also betrayed Yoka's fear that he wouldn't, even though the evidence pointed to the contrary. It was just what Steven hinted at earlier, carried in Yoka's train of thought; being human was terminal.

"Bed rest for a while, his leg is bad, but he's expected to recover," Yoka said. She confessed, "His particular set of powers are....interesting to me. They point out flaws in my systems and give me the opportunity to correct those flaws before someone who would want to take advantage of me could. I never expected they'd be something I couldn't handle."

She shook her head.

It was a sneak peak into what being immortal, or at least, long-lived was like. Yoka loved life. She didn't seem to care who she had to hurt to stay alive.