E I J I R O U
K I R I S H I M A
" Kiri - Red - Shitty-hair "
17 years of age - Japanese - "Gifted" Human
Eijirou Kirishima is a strongly-built and durable individual as a whole. He worked relentlessly in order to build up his strength and gain his desired physique, so he takes a degree of well-deserved pride in his appearance. His strength lies in endurance, physical strength and brute force, granting him the nickname "The Bulldozer of Class 1A."
On the flip side, he is not the fastest kid on the block, but he does frequently work on his speed, stamina and flexibility to try and make up for it.
His eyes are a ruby red, and truly the windows to his soul. Kirishima is an incredibly expressive individual, and his eyes never fail to reflect his true emotions.
His hair is naturally black and straight, yet Kirishima chooses to keep it dyed crimson red and spike it up to his signature lofty style. He'll wear his hair down if he is in the comfort of familiar spaces and familiar faces, and usually keeps it either tied back or pushed out of his face with a headband.
While it is common knowledge that Kirishima styles his hair up to the spikes, very few folks are aware of his natural hair color.
Hair holds memories, and for him, the red color symbolizes a new phase in his life that he can be proud of.
Kirishima's teeth are unusually sharp and resemble more of a beast's than a human. He is unsure where exactly the sharpness of his teeth originates from, but figures he may have inherited that trait from a member of the unknown side of his family.
In the MhA cannon universe, Kirishima's baby teeth were blunt like a normal human child's, and the sharp teeth came in as his permanent set. The number of times he had bitten his own lip, tongue or cheek trying to get used to them is next to countless.
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Loud. Boisterous. A "bit too much." Those are common words used to describe Kirishima's personality.
However, so are "Loyal," "Outgoing," "Trustworthy," and "Uplifting."
Kirishima is a highly social and very extraverted boy who is able to get along with just about anybody, regardless of personality differences.
He is fully aware of his rambunctious personality and habits of sudden loud outbursts. He is not ashamed of it, but he will swiftly apologize and keep himself in check if he gets called out.
Kirishima does not filter or conceal his emotions, and is ultimately a very bad liar if he tries to do so. He is very blunt and upfront, and holds no hesitation to comment on unsavory behavior.
Kirishima holds a true "Chaotic Good" alignment and by default, serves as the peacekeeper and mediator in various situations. Despite his passive demeanor, he is known to do a quick, 180 flip into an aggressive spitfire if one manages to prod the few "soft spots" he has. He never backs down from a fight or a challenge, even if his odds of winning are slim.
Overall, Kirishima holds himself to a mildly corny standard of chivalry and honor. He tries to model himself after a hero he looks up to by the name of Crimson Riot, even going as far as adopting the code name "Red Riot" in his honor.
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Eijirou Kirishima - Code name, "Red Riot."
Kirishima is currently a student at a hero-run school for "gifted" kids, and works part-time at the Fatgum agency -- an agency that specializes in neutralizing threats and apprehending criminals with supernatural and superhuman abilities.
His own ability allows him to harden his anatomy and turn his skin into jagged stone. This increases his physical strength and durability, and allows him to easily withstand things like extreme blunt force trauma, bullets, point-blank explosions, crushing force, piercing or slicing weapons, and falling from great heights.
His fighting style is geared towards close-quartered melee combat, using his fists, arms and body as both weapons and a shield. He is notorious for taking on a reckless and aggressive approach to a fight, bulldozing head-on into battle and throwing himself into harm's way to shield friends and civilians alike.
He has learned to regenerate himself after taking devastating hits. However, there is a limit to the number of attacks he can withstand before his ability begins to give out. Kirishima is also prone to becoming fatigued after giving or receiving numerous heavy hits, and will struggle to keep his ability activated after a certain amount of time.
+ QUIRK SPOILER AHEAD +
Eijirou Kirishima's Ultimate form is known as "Unbreakable." He is able to done layer upon layer of his dermal hardening ability, therefore amplifying his strength and durability to the extreme. This gives Red Riot's "Unbreakable" a monstrous appearance with monstrous strength to match.
In the MhA cannon universe, Kirishima is only able to hold Unbreakable for 40 seconds at a time before his ability gives out. With time and practice, he is able to mantain and fight with Unbreakable for longer periods of time.
"Unbreakable" is completely and entirely impenetrable for the short time it is activated.
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“You know you can say no, right? You can come home with me! Like the old days after you ran away!”
As swells of rain pounded on in torrents that completely doused the streets, Cassella found herself sitting shotgun inside a black Mercedes, her gaze distantly pinned on the misty roads that led up to a certain university at the distance. Heavy droplets raced against the glass, and from time to time, the woman glanced down at her phone and the trail of digits she had on hand. Even entering the school grounds already had security personnel positioned in places, keen on checking identifications even before arriving at the hall itself.
Was she happy about the arrangement? Knowing her, in this weather, most likely not. Is it a good excuse to evade something else? It definitely is.
“Noah, if I truly want to say no you wouldn’t find me anywhere.” Silvery eyes darted along as she faced the driver, a young man with a mess of dirty blond hair. He beamed at her, brightly so, a grin that would have mirrored hers on any other day. “And I wouldn’t even consent to be picked up at this time.”
“It’s better to be early, Cass! Can’t bear the thought of a sister getting late.”
“The meeting is starting in two hours, and you should be worrying about your flight when this storm dies down. You’re even more excited about this than I am.”
“I mean I would rather drag you to the airport with me, by the foot if I should, but duty calls you more often than you call home!” Noah was laughing. That lopsided grin was contagious, and the passenger only shook her head, obviously not immune to that. “You gotta tell me about how it goes. I can pass it along to the folks back home for you!”
She promised she would. There was even that tiny playful affray with the man not really wanting to open the doors to let her out.
. . .
A few distances away in that hall was a small pale figure close to the doors, already loitering in the venue for gods know how long, with a few periodic breaks for the university cafeteria or vending machines. She was already sorted out, checked, and verified through more than twice, but other than the tight security keeping the entry logs, nobody else seemed to notice that one ghost of a woman in an ivory fleece coat, wisps of white hair tucked warmly into a knitted pastel bonnet, always scurrying about in kitten heels with a snack or two (coupled up with a few excuses), until the time that many others were now milling in to choose specific spots.
It was a sea of unfamiliar faces and a few stern familiar ones were far in between, all gathered for a meeting cloaked up as some annual academic symposium. There was something big in the works, she kept on hearing. Conversations were hushed, but most were laced with either anticipation or worry. It wasn’t the first time this year she had to attend something this tense, but perhaps it was all in the numbers today. In a way, she will admit that she was thoroughly impressed.
“M̶̵̀m̧̕m̸m͞m̷̴͜…̨̢
… matćh ̸s̢t̨i͘c̡ķ”
It was a low, purring murmur that broke her reverie, resounding from the back of her head. A droning chorus of scratchy throats, as if it was affectionately trying to reel her in and just… doing its best. Cassella didn’t say anything– not that there was something to be said further when the announcement came, successfully taking the attention of the crowd. Ten minutes. There were hushed whispers that came forth as the others fumbled for their belongings or shifted around in their seats.
The woman was no exception to this, already fishing her devices out from the depths of a crammed bag as she quietly greeted one of the friendlier staff who walked over to collect her things. Tags were placed in until –
“Me̷̡͏r͜r͏͘y̶̨̧ Ma̛͠tć̶̕h͞͡s̵̨͡t̵̛͜i͢ck͏̸̸!”
That sounded like a very ecstatic, disembodied squeal to her ear that she nearly jumped, her phone bouncing in her hands. Apologetically handing this over, she fished for her tablet, another battered thing that was cracked and dented on the edges. None of her electronics were able to last that long, it seemed. With that, Cassella was sent on her way, finding the need to stand on her tiptoes to look for empty seats, making a mental note for some reprimanding.
Most at the front, before the massive screens, were already occupied by the most eager. Or those who didn’t have much of a choice, coming along with specific groups, representatives, and superiors. There are still a few spaces here and there, a bunch of people she knew she had never seen before, a handful that she might have seen in photographs or research that finally succeeded in piquing her attention, that familiar sight of a red-haired boy that reminded her of that random little quest to the police station with a lost wallet–
Wait a minute.
That’s the boy with the wallet!
So that’s what they meant. Cassella doubted that anyone would forget that striking shade of red.
There were still a few empty chairs just before the last row, and she was already scooting over to occupy one. That’s just her, really, typically nonchalant over most things, but will definitely cave in at the sight of a friendlier face. Will he even remember? Oh well, it wouldn’t hurt to say hello.
“Kirishima~” Her voice was a quiet little chirp as she turned, gray eyes twinkling. “Fancy seeing you here! It’s been a while, how have you been?”
Lionel listened to Eijiro Kirishima's concerns about how many men to expect and the type of men they were. He then leaned back in his chair and took a puff from his cigar savoring the smoke flavor into his lungs.
Lionel: “I’m expecting roughly 5 to 7 men, give or take, that will show up at the port when the boat unloads the live cargo. These men are from Jodie The Miller Mafia. I’m sure he’ll have at least one hired merc, maybe two, leading the team and the rest just your normal Mafia crew. So some guns and some muscle. But I’m sure a young man of your caliber can handle it? The shipment is expected to arrive at 11pm tomorrow.”
Lionel opened the drawer of his desk and pulled out an envelope stuffed with the amount of money previously stated and put it in front of Eijiro and the key to a truck that awaited him to haul the precious cargo. So do we have an agreement or do I need to find someone else??
Once Eijiro agreed. Lionel escorted him out of the office where another gentleman greeted Eijiro and took him to where the truck and everything awaited him.
~The Next Night~
Sometime around 9:30pm Catwoman had finally arrived in Charlestown R.I. She perched herself up high on the roof of a shipyard building that was very close to the loading and unloading of vessels. The gentle breeze tonight played with Catwoman’s hair. The smell of saltwater and dead marine things lingered in the air making the seagulls fly low and circle about here and there making those high pitch squawks. The sound of the water could be heard brushing up against the docks and other boats always in motion as the tide was near its peak.
Boat after boat came and unloaded as strong men did what they had to do. The red glow of cigarettes coming off their mouths with the clomp clomp sound of heavy steel toed boots described the type men these were. Just your average blue collar seamen who worked hard out in the elements all year long getting goods to their desired location. They didn’t care what the goods were or where they were going. It was just moving the steel or wood box containers to whoever or wherever. Some companies would come for the pickup right away while others that didn’t would have their steel containers directed to a holding area.
It was now 10pm and the boat arrived ahead of schedule and began to unload. A shipping crane lifted the metal containers and crates that were on wooden pallets and transferred them off the boat. Catwoman eyed this operation closely as the sounds of rippling growls could be heard coming from one of the metal containers as it descended onto land. But something seemed wrong listening to them. It was just when she was about to jump off the rooftop to make her move when a fairly large box truck and a black SUV pulled up together to claim the live cargo that had just been unloaded. One of the men showed the Papers he had to claim the cargo along with an envelope. The Seaman in charge gave a nod okay to let the men proceed in unloading the metal container.
From there the men went to work quickly to remove the lock and open the doors. Then they backed one of the trucks and lowered the tail lift as one heavy duty steel thick barred cage exited on wheels was moved onto the tail lift. And that’s when Catwoman noticed these weren’t your typical normal pumas! These were the Ghost Pumas she had heard so much about from Serra Dos Orgaos National Park in southeastern Brazil’s Atlantic Forest. Pure white albino cougars. They were legends of how rare they were. They were respected in the tribal communities because they were an omen of wealth and protection. To see them here and taken out of their environment sent a burning rage through Catwoman’s body! Now she wanted these men DEAD!
But then out of nowhere sirens blared as red and blue flashing lights lit up the darkness and pulled up surrounding the vehicles. Cops got out of the cars with guns drawn. The thugs fired at the cops spraying bullets everywhere causing the cops to shoot back. The thugs then scattered in different directions running like cockroaches for the nearest places to duck and cover. Then more gunfire is exchanged again in a blaze. It turned into a real shit show in a blink of an eye! Finally the cops manage to hit a couple of the thugs and subdued them to comply. But two of the men Catwoman had seen managed to elude the cops and jumped into the water and disappeared.
This situation now just got a lot worse as she watched the cops handcuff a couple of the men and wait for the ambulance to get to the scene. One of the men definitely looked dead as there was no movement. But now Catwoman would have to formulate a new plan to get to the Puma’s. Catwoman used her comm link built into her cowl to communicate with her partner Neo who was sitting at his desk watching things on thermal imagery from hacking into a nearby satellite system.
Catwoman: “Copy Neo, are you seeing this? Over”
Neo: “Yes I am. Over”
Catwoman: “And you didn’t give me a heads up about the cops? Over”
Neo: “You could have handled all of them at once. I’ve seen you do it before. Over”
Catwoman: “Noo. I didn’t want to use my smoke screen. These puma’s are in enough distress already. I feel something might be wrong with them too. I just have a sixth sense in my gut that something isn’t right with one of them or maybe both of them? Over”
Can people truly ever get along? She never really lived to see that on a massive scale, and as far as she knew, she coexisted with conflict. Most of the time it gave her a reason to be. Even with all misgivings and complaints, she accepted that. But Cassella found nothing to offer in that regard.
Perhaps it was because they both knew it was merely wishful thinking at this point. This was why he's working so hard to eventually start his agency, to begin with.
The busy station wasn't the most ornate thing inside, with offices, sections, and computer booths divided by clear and frosted glass, the lights overhead shedding that cold static fluorescence against the pasty walls and the tiles. Cassella was never a stranger to these places for the right and wrong reasons, but in a way, she found it refreshing that she wasn't the one who needed it this time.
Even at that distance, the youngster’s voice bounced all over the place, a very lively interruption from the typical doldrum of shuffling footsteps and distant ringing phones, making it hard to ignore. The woman on the other hand hardly batted an eye, finding a comfortable spot on one of the lounge chairs around. The only time she pulled herself up on her feet was when he was ready to move. “I could hear your friend all the way from here, I’m pretty sure they got really worried about you,” if anything, she sounded amused to point that out, without the slightest hint of reprimand. “How many of them have accompanied you here today anyway?”
Thoughts drifted back to his eager statements from earlier. His friends who also had very distinct abilities according to his own words. Nevertheless, she kept a quiet eye out, stretching slightly the moment she was past the sliding doors. Other than a few people rushing in for other matters just before closing time, nobody else seemed to mind a couple of people loitering outside.
Cassella blinked the moment the question was posed as if that took a while to register. It did, even with how many times she compared there wasn't a straight answer, to begin with. “That’s a difficult one. Both have their ups and downs.” For a brief fraction of a moment, she gave it some deep thought, carefully picking through her words. “Fieldwork gets me going through places, it’s a high risk, high reward. I met a lot of good friends through the field.” Lost a vast number of them, too. One sweeping glance was given to the sidewalks to keep an eye out. “Teaching is a more relaxing thing though, and students still surprise me every time without getting too much bodily harm. I can see myself doing that if I live long enough to retire– if I can get someone else to do the paperwork.”
What she didn’t mention was that she will most definitely prefer neither, only wanting to lounge somewhere for once with some booze and some proper peace of mind. Probably with some decent sleep and everything in between. But an adult admittedly running away from responsibilities wouldn’t be the most wonderful example there is – no, especially with a boy like this.
She shook her head, ashen hair bobbing along as if that would simply toss that thought away.
“You did say you’re attending a school for people with quirks, yeah?” Cass finally asked. “What was your school like? Do you have any favorite teachers or classes?”
Replies shall be sent out shortly!
Been stitching together the college-aged (18-21) and Adult (25) AUs and the storylines that go with 'em. Page editing shall come soon ~
Kirishima wasn’t the only one who was holding back a breath. It may seem that Cassella was just carefree and relaxed as she threw casual glances around, but she was all ears, hanging on to every word, covertly observing the way he acted. She couldn’t really find any tell-tale signs of lies in every statement, from someone who seemed to wear his heart on his sleeve.
Even the slightest hint of discomfiture didn’t go unnoticed, but the woman made no attempt to call that out. A part of her wished she did and that took some restraint, but Kirishima was probably nervous enough to be separated and lost in a place he hardly knew. Poor thing, she figured. Being a decent adult without scaring kids won't cost anything.
She didn’t really know what this boy could do and she hasn’t pried, but from attitude alone, he was already more grounded in her standards, still optimistic about everything, prone to mishaps in a harsh world even with all the good intentions. While there was a nagging part of her reasoning out that this world wouldn’t simply cater to such lofty ideals alone, it was good enough reason for her to let youngsters indulge in it while they still can.
Perhaps it was truly different where he was from. It’s going to be alright.
“There’s a lot of people willing to step in to keep everyone safe, that’s awesome!” The relief in her voice was so tangible and genuine, that a chuckle actually escaped her at his remark regarding her case. “I mean, I can try. But it sounds like your folks have been through a lot since those abilities first showed up, I’m glad everyone adapted to it.”
Fluidly stepping by to allow a few rushing people past, there was a brief stop to be had to make sure they were just on the right busy street. They are. “Where I’m from, these talents aren’t very common amongst the mundane, so many of those who had them had to be boxed in with this definition of normal. Those who came to acknowledge it and see it as gifts still have to abide by these constraints. Have to work a little harder just to keep it under the wraps because most won't understand it. Though I wish there are as many agencies like that around, I can really use a long break.”
The youngster perhaps had more knowledge regarding these matters than he seemed to let on. Cassella, on the other hand, didn't seem to mind at this point. Any other person would have thought that she was completely off the rails. “Hmm, let’s see. Relic Creation and Conservation, some parts of Elemental Enchantment, and Field Work and Research are the ones I’m usually booked in for. Do you also have anything like it in your school? Sometimes I have to sub for Arcanum Ethics, but my folks really hate it when I do for so many reasons.” Oddly enough, she seemed rather proud of herself regarding that. “We’re just coming up by the corner! If your friends couldn’t reach you through anything, who knows, they might have been asking around for you, too.”
True to her words, the police station was just around the corner of the block that they covered. ”Here we are~” It was a chunk of a building on its own, a little bit old compared to the other establishments that popped around it, fluorescent lights shining through glass doors and walls, with some people passing by to and fro with bundles of paperwork. “If you keep up the good work I know you’ll make it out to be one of the best ones out there! Just don't stray from your friends all the time!”
||-edits this 17 more times 4 hours later-
Half the population? The pale woman gaped at him like it was out of this world. It was rare to ever have her completely drawn to something when a piece of normal is what she had been begging for all along. Hearing half of the population gaining an arsenal of abilities like it was the most mundane thing obviously caught her off guard. "How?" That was all that she could ever muster at first as he seemed to sober up. "I- I mean, do you know how that happened? How do you guys deal? What about the ones who never got them?"
Now, Cassella had a lot of questions, and this was merely the tip of the iceberg. There was a visible attempt made to keep herself from firing more out of habit. His enthusiasm brought a grin to her face, however, as she shook her head. "No, Kirishima, you're fine, some parts of this aren't completely classified."
"Well... like you said, not everyone uses these gifts for good. Or sometimes they do want to be good, but everything and everyone around them makes it harder to do so. I travel around a lot, one little part of my job is to make sure that this is in control- and if the objective is younger with their abilities just manifesting, gauge if their environment provides them what they need to keep it in check. If not, we intervene." Her gaze flickered around the place just to check if they were still headed the right way. So far, so good. "One organization I work for has places to get them trained and the curriculum individually tailored, just like a school. I'm a substitute teacher if I can stay at home long enough." Cassella chuckled at that. "Another has a place where they can just be, but constructed where they can't hurt others and participate in studies." She ran a hand through her hair, finishing the last of her ice cream. "If there's no hope of negotiation and it was deemed too destructive, I'm called in to neutralize the situation before it gets really bad. Clean up, if you will."
What a fancy word that was, to kill. But then again, she was typically called in as a last resort if it was truly bad, rarely ever did she have to deal with something a little less than such. "I have two cases at the moment. One is a young boy who shows a lot of potential but still needs to be closely observed. Some families aren't a perfect fit, you see." Puffing a breath, she stopped at the edge of one intersection, waiting for the lights. "The other adult one is being a complete pain in the ass according to the file, but we'll see how that goes!"
Pursing her lips, she looked at the redhead again, fair eyebrows knitted slightly. "How do y'all deal with it when someone goes on a rampage or does something really bad? Or a bunch of them do? I figure that you guys have an elite force of people who can deal with it?"
Lionel Porter: “Ahh Eijiro Kirishima please come in..”
Lionel got up from his comfortable chair and put his cigar down. He had been behind a beautiful antique mahogany desk that had exquisite details all around. The legs of the desk looked to be like massive paws with a gold plating. The office itself was impressive. Antique artifacts, a world globe, and several recognition awards. He went over to shake Eijiro’s hand to formally introduce himself.
Lionel Porter: “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Eijiro. I’m Lionel Porter, owner of the MagaLyon Casino and Hotel. And I am also the president of the non-profit organizations of the World Wild-Living Reserve and Save Exoctic Fur Creatures. I am a man who is very environmentally active in doing what I can to protect and serve the interests at heart. I have spent hundreds of millions doing what I can to save our wildlife from poachers and thieves and bring awareness into the schools as well in the zoos. They have to protect so many species which are on the verge of being wiped out of existence which is why I have done my homework on you! Please come sit!” He offered the young man a chair that was in front of his desk and took his seat again behind his desk. He casually picked up his cigar resting on his antique ashtray.
Lionel Porter: “You have the drive I used to have when I was your age. You know the dirty stuff that needs to get done. A real go-getter. Unfortunately when you get to be as old as me your interests span out and most of what you do is behind the desk pushing a pen or making calls to make things happen. You get tied up in running a multi million dollar business of things and before you know it you can’t take care of the hands-on projects anymore which is why I need someone like you. I have come across some information from trusted resources that a shipment of live pumas will be arriving from a cargo ship in Charlestown R.I. These pumas were stolen right out the rainforest and are expected to be sold on the black market to celebrities or what have you. I need you to intercept these men and get these pumas on a truck to be delivered to a midpoint where I can have a team pick them up and get them to a sanctuary where they will live out the rest of their life under my protection. I will even provide you with the truck to transport them. But intercepting these guys will be very dangerous, I won’t lie. The midpoint that I need you to bring them too is an old farm in Woonsocket just North of Charlestown. But you must make sure when you intercept these guys that you handle it efficiently so they don’t follow you. Are we clear? That is of course if you accept the job. The job pays 10K. A quarter up front and the rest upon delivery.“
~Meanwhile~At the Kitty Nights Burlesque Club~
Neo Felis, one of the owners of the establishment, picked up some audio feed from one of the many bugged tables that catches a hit on his algorithm system. He checked out the security footage as well as the conversation. Neo then overhears a shipment of contraband coming from animal peddling at the Port of Charlestown R.I. tomorrow, along with some other details. He sends for Irena to come check it out right after her Burlesque performance.
Shortly thereafter Irena walked into Neo's office wearing only a satin bathrobe from what appears as she strokes Neo’s hair briefly before sitting down next to him.
Irena: “What did you find tonight? Anything good?”
Neo: ”Good as in worth stealing? MMmm.. Yes and no. There are pumas coming in tomorrow night in R.I. They are smuggling in some new brand of drugs with them. If the pumas live after they extract the contraband they’ll sell both the drugs and the pumas on the black market.”
Irena: “What??? Who the Hell is the Monster that orchestrated this??”
Neo: “Jodie The Miller Mafia. He is the one who is friends with that Thomas Blake guy, that poacher you hate! It looks like they teamed up to traffic exoctic animals while smuggling in this new brand of drug into the United States.”
Irene: “Those Fluffing Pissholes!!” She clenched her fist. “They are gonna Get The Wrath Of Catwoman and Wish they had Never Been Born!! I’ll Claw Each One Of Their Eyes Out!! Tomorrow We Start Operation Puma!! I’ll make the necessary arrangements now and tomorrow will rescue them!!”
Passing through one pedestrian crossing, pale eyebrows visibly twitched up at the mention of something sprouting on her back. One glance on that pale face can already say that she looked very amused. "Maybe you haven't mistaken," her voice was low. "Sometimes we don't run around on our own, though I apologize if it has unsettled you."
The cheer in her voice might make it difficult to discern if she was jesting, but Cassella was obviously caught off-guard at the remark that she had to look at him twice.
No, the boy was serious.
Badass wasn't something she'll hear about it every day. That was refreshing. There was no trace of wariness on that voice at all. Multiple arms. Tentacles from hands. Where was he from that these gifts were so openly discussed with a stranger, without any hesitation or even thought of being questioned or feared? "You've got some remarkable friends! I'm pretty sure you also have unique talents of your own. Were these kinds of abilities common where you are from?"
When asked about the reason for her travel, the woman didn't seem to hesitate in answering his query. "I'm doing a bit of hunting! More like surveillance and scouting, really, so I have a few reports to write." She shrugged, taking a turn after one glance at the map. "I think I ended up wandering too far off-course, but hey, they didn't say anything about biding my time and getting some really good ice cream along the way, so here I am."
"Fair enough. That's a good one."
Oddly enough, even with her controversial suggestions that were vehemently opposed, that answer seemed to satisfy her, based on the smile that visibly twitched on her face. The explanation that followed shortly was something that she didn't completely expect considering how lengthy that turned out... but it was obvious that she was all ears, with her knitting eyebrows giving that away.
Lost things and gallant attitudes certainly mix.
At the apology, she merely shook her head. "Cassella Sullivan." The name was answered back with a grin. "Don't worry about it, it's a joy hearing how people respond. You can call me Cass." If there was anything that could add success to the bribe, it will be the mention of snacks-- but then, this one would have extended a hand anyway without. With a tip of the head, she gestured for him to come along. "I have a lot of time to spare, let's go."
With the digital map to finally lead the way, she finally had a sense of direction, far from someone who was just lazily loitering earlier. "You did say you're not from here, yeah? Are you and your friends just visiting around?"
Cassella was laughing now. It wasn't anything malicious-- it was a contained little burst from someone who perhaps needed that cheer with that unexpected yet reputable reaction. The world needed more of that. "I mean, what are you going to do if you didn't find the owner? If it's less than a hundred bucks that's extra allowance."
As questionable as that one sounded, at least it sounded like she was just joking... perhaps? Both eyebrows twitched up upon hearing the rest. She nibbled through her cone, fishing out her phone from the depths of her pockets. "To be fair, I'm also a little lost. Please don't tell me you got separated from your friends because of that wallet." For something that still looked fairly crisp and new on the most part, the white iPhone was already beaten up with cracks running through the screen, held together with what the flimsy protector can manage.
"No lost and found along the streets, but there's a police station a couple of blocks away." She offered him the phone to show him the map. "If you can remember your friend's numbers, you can call."
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