A black market exists. Most girls come in contact with it on the periphery, some way or another, the network of girls spread throughout the campus, trading in the variety of goods that aren't so common on campus. The list is surprisingly wide. For most girls, it's little things: clothes, toys, makeup, little electronic trinkets. Harmless, really, maybe not even technically against the rules: an unofficial swap meet. But there's rumors of a layer beneath, a trade in drugs and information and defense, whispers that it links to the messy splashes of graffiti that appear on campus now and again, garish red hands sprayed across the buildings, usually quietly disappearing by the next morning. For Aeria, it's about weapons. Always practical, always the military girl, she treats it like a reconaissance mission, probing ever so gently for hints that might lead her where she needs to be without alarmig suspicions. It takes surprisingly less time than she'd imagine to get what she wants. The shadowy little kingpin has been shrewd in keeping her operation under wraps. Loose lips sink ships after all. But the school has a notorious reputation for loose girls. She catches her lead from a girl who deals in clothes, an overeager little dumb bunny of an upperclassmen eager to get in Aeria's pants and not unwilling to blab as a means to curry favor. She gets a room, but not a name, down in the sophomore block of Shaffer Dorm.

It's a lazy Saturday when Aeria comes calling. She's sprawled across her comfortable couch, just relishing in the soft weekend. An attack in her dorm hasn't come for a while and she's starting to feel comfortable in her home again, bare feet kicked up on the arm of the couch, curled up in a pair of pink boy shorts and an over-large Stooges shirt, certainly not hers. Oversized headphones blast music, identifiable as Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds if, say, someone was hip and with it. She's flipping through a battered and beat old graphic novel, The Filth. Literature is hard to come by on campus and graphic literature is even harder, the majority of the books coming through consisting of sappy romance mangas and tentacle fiction. She's halfway to dozing off, the book threatening now and again to fall open over her chest as she drifts away.

Aeria had heard rumors when she first arrived to Shokushu of girls to go to to get certain articles of clothing, assorted nick nacks and general junk. And when she first arrived she paid such rumors little attention. She wasn't much for fancy attire, expensive make-up and found anything beyond a laptop, alarm clock and cell phone to be a waste of money. She was rather spartan when it came to such things. But after her... encounters... with a couple denizens of this place, followed by the realization that many students, especially the older and more important ones, were just as dangerous if not more so than the creatures, and the final dark realization that she was outside of the range of aid or help, the little black market became much more interesting to her. Her probing of its surface started small; a pair of sweats here, sunglasses there, and an iPod. All the while treating it as recon, trying to dig deeper into its existence, and find more along the lines of what she actually was looking for. A means of defense and perhaps eventually a means of attack. She was behind enemy lines, she was smart enough to know that. Defense would not solve anything. But one thing at a time she reminded herself constantly, no need to attract attention and ruin her coup before it began.

Finally her searching gained her something. A lead. Someone who could perhaps supply her with what she needed. And all it cost her was a few soft kisses and allowing of a few gropes here and there. Amazing how such a short amount of time could change her reactions to such behavior. The her of a year ago, no a month ago, would have snapped the girls arm in a heartbeat. Now she allowed it as a means to an end. At least she had been able to worm away before the situation had spiraled out of control. Attracted to girls she may be, but she wasn't ever going to be an easy score.

After many minutes and several glances at the school map and the number written on the paper she reached the room. Breathing out a small sigh she composed herself to deal with what she imagined would be a similar encounter with a mirror of the girl she had been able to glean this address from. She rose her hand and rapped on the door three times, waiting patiently for a response. She wore a simple t shirt and jeans, the shirt lacking any logo or picture, just a faded shade of gray in color. It might even had been black once. Glasses set on the rim of her nose as a surprisingly effective disguise.

By the time the knock comes, El is out like a light, drooling on the couch, the book scattered to the floor. But this place does something to your senses, and despite the nap, despite the blast of post-punk in her ears, the knock is enough to wake her up from her rest. Every sleep is a nap at Shokushu, always a brief respite, always expectant of where the next attack will come from. She slips off the headphones, rubs at her temples. "Oh Jesus... M'COMING!" She slips her book under the bed, wiping slobber from her chin before pushing to her feet and moseying to the door. There aren't any peepholes in the doors and voices don't mean anything, so every guest is a surprise. The door swings open inward and Elise is left framing it, languidly. For a second she pauses. Is that...? No, never mind. Her chin is tilted upward to make eye contact with Aeria, the girl sporting more than half a foot on El's meager height. Her examination is thorough, if not necessarily lusty. If it is, she hides it well, arms crossed under her chest, leaned onto one foot defensively, brow arch. Her expression looks not entirely impressed. "Yeah?" Her fingers dance in the room, just out of side, fingering over the heavy aluminum bat she keeps prepared for attacks.

The height advantage gives Aeria a clear view of the room beyond. It looks... inauspicious, but sharp eyes can pick out little details. It's neat, not the mess of stacked contraband it was when she first started up, but it's about as luxurious a pad you could expect from a girl who's not amongst the Prefects and Head Girls. A bookshelf is stacked amply, a desk covered in CD jewel cases. The ipod is nice, the TV and collection of discs beneath it modest but of a higher grade than the second hand trash you usually find around this place. The same goes for the couch, and whereas the rooms are usually double bunked for two girls, her two singles are pushed together, making for a slightly more comfortable full bed.

Faint noise came from the room, a response to her knocking. It seemed that whoever the woman had directed her to was home. Gray eyes fell upon the surprisingly small woman who opened the door, the frames of her glasses cutting her upper and lower halves apart. She noted the the woman's eyes widening for a brief half second, almost as if she were surprised or recognized Aeria, but it quickly faded into a careful study of her. Aeria almost smiled at that, her own eyes sweeping over the girl in much the same way. A running build, fair skin, black hair... hell if it wasn't for the height difference she'd say she'd have found a long lost sister. Well that and her choice of clothing. Aeria really had no words in her vocabulary to describe what she thought about the ensemble. But it would be synonymous, if to a greater degree of severity, to the word 'odd'. Finally her eyes would flick back to Elise's and she handed her the paper that had her room number written on it, saying simply "I was told you could be of assistance to me. I desire... specific... items." Her accent was Eastern European, rather strong but her English was quite understandable. Her arm would withdraw once Ryu had taken the little piece of paper, both arms crossing under her chest as she waited for a response.

Her scan of the room took far shorter a time. She really didn't care too much for what the woman owned or put on display, though a flash of longing crossed her face as she saw what she mistook for a queen sized bed. God she'd kill for one of those.

The shirt hangs low on Elise, leaving only the edge of her underwear exposed, top overexposed, large enough to fit Aeria probably. She peers at her a long time, considering, fingers tangled in her hair, fingers massaging at scalp. "I don't usually deal direct, you know." She snags the sheet of paper, giving it a cursory look-over and then lifting her eyes back to Aeria. Her air is suspicious, but finally she wrinkles her nose, fingers drifting off of the bat as she slips to the side to let the girl slip through, paper crumpled and tossed to the waste bin.

"So lemme guess, Natasha. Sex toys?" She ambles back the length of the room to sprawl back across the couch, arms folded on the arms of the couch, chin resting atop, watching the girl with a tight, restrained curiousity.

Aeria remained impassive as Elise seemed to consider her proposal, a small twitch at her cheek suggesting she was ready to speak once Elise had mentioned that she did not deal directly. But she remained silent a bit longer and it seemed to pay off as Elise went into her room and flopped on the couch. She took that as an invitation. She took a few steps inside, blinking as Elise spoke again. It was just too much. The impassive aura about her broke for a few moments and she lowered her head laughing softly, her hair concealing her face. Regaining her composure she rose back up to her full height and rose a finger, her tone amused but holding an edge of distinct seriousness. "First of all, my name is Aeria. Natasha was my mother" Bad joke. "Secondly, if I wanted sex toys I'm sure i could get them from the slut who gave me your room number." She shook her head, the amusement entirely leaving her tone "No, I desire something else..."

She trailed off, biting her lip as a frown came to her face. She needed weapons, but a bad dealer was just as lethal as a bad plan. And how much did this unknown woman know about the darker denizens of this place? Would she even be interested in supplying Aeria with anything useful? And this very well could all be an elaborate trap... But really what else could she turn too?

Her lips curve upward with a vague, fond amusement as Aeria talks. Her body stretches in a languid cue as she leans forward to turn down the volume on her sound system, and then back to lounge, on her side now, chin rested on palm, head tilted, that same cryptic Cheshire smile. "Lemme guess. Blonde Bridget? Bitch spreads her legs on instinct every time she smells fish sticks day in the cafeteria." She's gonna kill that slut. Honestly... She's appraising the girl tightly, trying to be skeptical, but that tight, martial strut and lean tall body is so familiar it's hard to be entirely objective. She wants to trust her.

"Look girl, I deal in clothes and toys and electronicsff. Soaps and perfumes and CD's and books." She waggles the soft-covered book at the foot of the bed for effect. "If there was ever a place in the world I want to avoid being disciplined, this is it. And trust me. I've been at a lot of boarding schools." There's a drip of meaning there, reading Aeria's eyes for a response with deathly caution. "I don't know what you're asking for, but it doesn't sound quite street legal. That's not my alley." The NORML poster on her wall would say otherwise. More importantly, the baseball bat propped against her door frame.

Aeria nodded in response to her question, a soft chuckle escaping her at her assessment of the woman. But Elise was being stubborn. Aeria knew in her gut that this woman was more than a simple contraband dealer. And Aeria needed something more powerful than a baseball bat, though even it would be more a welcome shift from bare hands. Walking towards her she would say in an increasingly dark tone "I've been to plenty myself, but there was something in those schools that this one lacks." She narrowed her eyes "A two way law. One that limited its students, but also kept them safe." She made an all encompassing gesture, deciding to throw in her hand. It was a gamble, but one that she hoped would pay off. "This one has a distinct one way law. It limits us and makes us the playthings of things I thought resided in the land of nightmares not reality. I know you, like me, are one of the 'lucky' few who know this, and I know it is for that reason you created this elaborate farce" Lucky was delivered in a bitter tone. And truth be told she knew nothing, but part of a good bluff was acting like you were basing your moves on more than what you actually had. "So you say you don't deal in anything that will get you disciplined? Bull... Shit. There doesn't need to be a reason in this place. If they want you they'll get you. I need something to tip the scales further in my favor. So I ask you again..." She cleared her throat and stood up, her composure returning and she asked in the exact same tone impassive tone she had been using before she got her emotions into it "Do you have the specific type of items I am looking for?"

She sits up suddenly as Aeria starts talking. Her expression is tight, serious, not breaking eyes. She nods along ocassionally and when Aeria is done, she lifts to her feet, circling around to check the hall, then slide a chair under the door. She pivots to the bed, peering out the window, then takes a seat on the edge of the full. Thumbs move from temples back, smoothing hair back from her eyes, a compulsive, habitual gesture. "Girl. We don't have much of anything here." Her voice is low, likely forcing Aeria to come closer and lean in to hear her. "What we do have, we make, and what we make, they break. We try to stash tools around campus, but when we need them, we find them sabotaged."

She pauses, giving Aeria a conspiratorial look before leaning over the edge of the bed, gymnastic contortion as fingers deftly feel the underside of the mattress. She comes back with a beat old tin, procuring a cheap hand rolled cigarette inside and a lighter. She holds the tin out to the Eastern European while she strokes the cigarette to life with her other. There's a pause as she inhales, and as the smoke drifts out, she continues. Fingers tremble around the cancer stick. "I've hurt some of the fuckers before but not so bad that they don't just keep coming. Like you said, the odds are stacked against us, like one of those goddamned hunting reserves where old Texas men sit in their comfortable, air-conditioned cars with full bars and shoot game out the passenger's window." Her smirk is sickly. "Shit... I guess that's not what you wanted to hear, huh? What exactly do you need, girl?"

Aeria took in a small breath as Elise moved, a small bit of excitement slipping into her at the sight of her pressing the chair to the door, leaning in to catch her words. But as she spoke that bit of excitement began to die away, slowly eaten away by the cold reality of their situation. She sat down on the side of the bed as Elise bent over to collect the can, but waved the offer way with a simple shake of her head.

Slowly she let herself fall back onto the bed as Elise finished speaking a bitter laugh coming from her as she pressed the palms of her hands to her cheeks, covering her eyes with her fingers before she drew them down, a sigh escaping her. "Hope I guess." She chuckled darkly again "I hurt one of them too. Snapped its arm, well... limb almost in half. It barely slowed it, the fucking bone just slid back right into the skin as if nothing had happened and then..." She shrugged her shoulders. "From what I hear the result is typical."

Her right hand slid back up to her mouth, grinding her thumb nail against her upper set of incisors out of a nervous habit as she thought. "As hopeless as it is though..." She chuckled honestly this time uttering in Romanian "Sa nu cedeze. (Do not surrender/do not give up) I suppose my parents taught me too well." Turning her head towards she girl she continued "Preferably I'd like an AK-47 with a few additional specs. Lacking in that a real blade would really be appreciated"

She sets the cigarette tin against the window from and the flops onto her back, parallel to the taller girl. Eyes are settled on the ceiling, watching the trails of smoke twine and then slowly dissipate. Her free hand slips under her neck, rubbing at the nape absently, shaking her head as the girl talks. A brow quirks at the smattering of... Well... El's not quite sure what language she's speaking. "Jesus Christ, Johanna Rambo! AK's?" There's a glimmer of curiousity in her eyes, a flicked tip of tongue to lip. "Chick, I don't know what you're expecting, but any blade we found would be cobbled together from maintenance equipment. I'm sorry but.... Like, we don't exactly have Boris the Blade on the other side of the Atlantic flying us in arms." She settles the cigarette in the crook of her mouth, free arm crossing back over her stomach. Knees are pulled forward to point at the ceiling, heels of feet nestled under the curve of her rear.

"It's not all bad, I guess. It's not good, but it's not bad. For all the horror, they can't hurt you." She pauses at that, practically wincing. Jesus Christ. Did you really just say that, El? "I mean, I don't think they're allowed to kill you, or to cripple you. You know, fuck you up in a way that's not repairable. That's an advantage there. And as long as you stay under the administration's radar.... Well, we try to move in groups. We share information. We record everything we can. Right now it's just, like, an intelligence game. Map the surroundings, find weakness, keep yourself under the radar." She plucks the cigarette free, cheek turning to rest against the sheets, sardonic smirk Aeria's way. "I know. Bearer of bad news, right?"

Aeria chuckled low in her throat and muttered "Didn't think so" Silently watching the plumes of smoke dissipate into the air as Elise continued talking. She glanced at her once she had finished speaking, meeting the smirk with a roll of her eyes muttering "Bad news indeed. Sorry to say this but up until about a little more than a week ago I was a virgin so forgive me if I don't believe that being raped and experimented on for the next four years while pretending to remain sane is a good thing." Her words were laced with diluted venom, not wanting to take out her disappointment on the messenger. A small chuckle escaped her and she said almost to herself more than anything "To think I put so much effort getting here only to find out that my own body is more lethal than anything that can be scrounged up..." She cut her words off at that, a faint look of alarm crossing her face at her carelessness. Damn she couldn't go blowing the cover off of that secret. Just the free and blunt truth given to her had actually lulled her into a state of calm. Trying not to draw attention to her slip, hopefully Elise would let it slide as arrogance, she would ask "So you gather information? Is your name a closely guarded secret?"

She bristles at the virgin comment, hefting to a seat. The cigarette is flicked into a stray mug, her eyes rolled "You're not the only one, chick. But you learn to cope, or you don't." Really, it's not that simple, but what's she supposed to say? She's cursing in her head for having accepted this girl so casually, not just from the paranoia of revealing her operation but, well, no one wants to be the one who has to explain all this shit to the new class of fresh faces. She sets to pacing.

"So you're an odd one, right?" It's almost an answer to Aeria's 'gathering information' question. She just brushes past the whole name thing. "Paramilitary, huh? Broken army brat in some fractured, chaotic bloc country? The old politburo bosses were bad but now you have mafiya running the show. Or maybe the capitalist pigs were bad and now they've taken over your country?" Teeth tap lip, considering. If she catches the comment alluding to Aeria's "powers", she doesn't show it. "Guess you've got experience organizing, yeah?"

Aeria let out a small breath as Elise commented about coping with the situation as it was, sliding to silence as the woman rose to her feet and began to pace around. A soft chuckle rose from her once more as she took another deeper breath, sliding up into a sitting position on the edge of the bed as she exhaled, gray eyes tracking the rambling woman. "Odd? I've been called worse, but yes I am." She paused for a second, considering how to answer the questions voiced to her. Being that Elise had not surrendered her name, Aeria felt that she didn't trust her, so why respond to such personal inquiries?

Finally she decided to act as Elise had, ignoring the meat of the questions and answering only the one that really had any semblance of being truly useful. At least in her own opinion. "In a manner of speaking yes, I have some formal training in organization and planning, not that it seems it would be too useful here." Her eyes rose to Elise's face, a small smirk evident, hoping that her short and incomplete response would bother her as much as her not revealing her name had bothered herself.

If she's bothered by the response, she makes no indication of it. She got the value she needed out of Aeria's reply and now her head is running as she leans against the wall, thoughtful tap of fingers against hip, her eyes tilted up slightly towards an indistinguishable point at the ceiling. "There's weapons about. It's merely, they're pretty tightly guarded. Everything we need we have to fashion. I know there's got to be shipments coming in, size of this school and all. By boat or by plane, I don't have a clue, so there's no real lead on making a connection there, getting contraband snuck in with the shipments. And most of the, uh, administration here don't have much use for weapons, you know. But..." She pauses, exhaling. "Some of them do. Torture implements and the like. It's just, I doubt the effort to acquire them would be worth the investment put in."

There's a shake of her head, fingers a steady rap on white flesh. "So I can't help you there but... Well, if you need a way to keep yourself occupied, I might have some uses for a girl like you." Oh, Aeria's heard that before on campus, surely.