Description: Spurred to action by Vega's sudden reappearance, Rose begins her quest to seek out and warn users of Psycho Power. She finds her first target, Alma Towazu, in the park. Includes some of the most meta posing ever to be seen on MotM.
Forward high kick, knee near the face and toes pointed to the sky. Pivot, back high kick with the other leg, twisting body and thrusting hard enough to stir the air to wind. Windmilling arms defensively and then shifting into the gathering motion, sink back into pseudo-stance, and unleash gathered force in a series of fierce forward punches...
"Hmph! Sha! HA!"
The last punch, igniting with the sheer force of fighting spirit, is surrounded by a whirling cone of pinkish-purple flamelike energy that flickers into existence just at the final stages of the punch, roaring into being with concussive power and sending luminous sparks dancing into the air before fading. The martial artist remains in this position for a few moments, lost in himself, before finally straightening, bringing his hands to chest level, and then pushing them downward and exhaling deeply, as though forcing all the air out of his own lungs in a cleansing gesture.
"Shaaaa..."
Finally, his eyes open, and he finds himself to be staring at the startlingly blue sky. For once it is a sunny day, the normal cloudcover having broken, and it is a perfect day to be at the park, especially considering the low likelihood that there will ever be another similarly good day again in the near future. Though the winter chill remains, all it takes is a bit of martial arts to get warmed up, eh? And besides, the chill doesn't really matter, not with the sound of happily laughing and frustratedly shouting children in the background. The youth cannot help but smile.
After all, every day is a beautiful day when you're Alma Towazu.
But, er. About that sound of children...
Finally noticing its abscence, Alma blinks and turns his head, and is startled (mildly) to find that the playground has been emptied in favor of forming a large crowd around him. The children appear to all be ranging from ages 4 to 8, which means that none of them seem to recognize him; or if they do, none of them are telling. They just all stare. A few are wide-eyed, but most are... expectant, maybe? It's a little eerie almost.
"Oh," murmurs Alma, pursing his lips slightly for a moment, before smiling a little, pushing his now slightly damp bangs out of the way of his eyes and saying, "Everyone having a good time today?"
They continue to stare. Alma stares back. This continues for several moments.
"Hmm."
Rose is not a ninja. However, it has been observed of late that she has shown some remarkably ninja-like propensities, not the least of which are the tactical use of short-range teleportation and an uncanny ability to be sitting in plain sight, totally unnoticed by any except those with the keenest of perceptions. There's no way of knowing if this is simply a favored way of dealing with public attention, or simply the fact that, as Vega's other half, she is quiet and discreet where he might as well walk around with a special effects team sending lens flares at his every move.
Regardless.
Sitting quietly out of the way, masking her presence both psychically and otherwise, Rose has simply watched Alma run katas for quite some time now. Her face is conflicted, weary; yet somehow the young Hiten-ryu fighter's precise control over the motions of his body gives her some reassurance. It is clear that Alma's interest in the martial arts -- particularly Chinese ones with their focus on the mental and spiritual -- have given him focus, as his ability to casually manifest psychic power attests. A smile creases her face as she watches the children slowly circle around the young fighter, in awe.
Her smile, however, is grim.
Rising to her feet, the fortuneteller decides to intervene and save Alma from a fate worse than death (embarrassment). Clapping quietly, she walks over, standing behind the ring of children and fixing her dark purple, seemingly bottomless gaze on Alm, speaking in a tone of airy amusement. "Alma Towazu," she says, looking around. "Friend of children."
Alma is in a bind here. All these kids seem to want something, and he doesn't know the first thing about dealing with them. It's one thing to be visiting the classroom and talking to them -- talking about college and the fighting circuit and to be good and respect and be patient with your family, so on and so forth -- and its another thing to have them catch him lighting himself on fire. Naturally, he forgot where he was, and forgot that people would be around to notice him. Figures. He almost starts to mentally berate himself for it -- plus that incessant tickling at the back of his neck, his usual warning that an aura is approaching, is really getting on his nerves -- but now really isn't the time for either. He... must act!
So, Alma does the first thing that comes to mind.
Suddenly snapping his palms skyward, he slams his feet down into a powerful stance and shouts "Bwaahahh!" unleashing twin gouts of white-pink flame into the air. The kids *scream*, all in union, and immediately turn to flee, scattering to the far corners of the playground, giggling and laughing. A few stoic-faced kids try to withstand the onslaught, but suddenly Alma is surging towards them, laughing "Ahahaha!" and still spouting flames into the air, and they can't hold their ground, and turn and run away as well, shrieking. Straightening to his full height and ceasing the flames, though he can't stop their summoned power from continuing to lick around his hands and forearms, the tall youth laughs heartily -- a rather rare occurance -- flashing pearly white teeth and ear-stud glinting in the sunlight as he throws his head back. "Hahahaha! Ahah... ahahaha--"
Alma almost chokes at Rose's comment, and whirls to face her, looking decidedly disconcerted. Oh, damn, *that's* why his aura sense was going crazy. "Miss Rose!" he manages breathlessly. "I was just-- with the-- and-- hi." he finishes rather lamely, looking a bit wilted. There's no way you can save teenagers embarrassment, you see. They inevitably just embarrass themselves. Though fortunately, clearing his throat and quietly taking a deep breath, Alma is mature enough to recover himself; there's not any pride to lose in this arena. "I would've never expected to meet you in a place like this," he admits, smiling genuinely, though he feels a bit silly thinking about it. Everyone likes the park, right Alma? Course she'd come here. "Are you... on a walk?"
Perhaps a more concerned parent would probably think Alma was out of his mind for that little stunt, but for herself, Rose takes a more circumspect view. After all, it was probably the light show that attracted the kids in the first place, and the worst that will come out of this is a few of them will have nightmares for the next few months about a purple-pink flame monster coming out of their closet to eat them, or knowing Alma, perhaps to give them fashion tips. Either way, a little fear is healthy if it galvanizes you to better yourself, Rose reasons, and thus chuckles at the entire affair.
However, it also suits her purposes that the children aren't around to her what comes after, and so she waits patiently for them to leave and Alma to calm himself before continuing, her calm, almost impassive presence withstanding all assaults on it, all attempts to get her to show more than the tiniest amount of emotion curiously curtailed, considering the source of her power. "I... do not get out and about much," she admits, running her hands through the ever-present gold shawl about her neck for a moment, loosening it slightly, and then looking back to Alma. "When I do, it is typically with some purpose in mind." She gestures with one hand lazily, off to the side, at the park bench she was occupying just moments before. "Would you care to join me for a moment?"
Alma blinks once in surprise, and for a moment, his face becomes touched with an awe startlingly similar to the awe on the faces of the children only moments before. As if realizing it himself, he glances over his shoulder for a moment, but the children no longer seem to be preoccupied with him. A few of the boys are thrusting their hands in the air and shouting "Bwahhah!", one or two have joined with some girls in glancing at their reflections in puddles and adjusting their hair, and the rest are either running around kicking at the air or in clusters whispering.
"Did you see--" "--so cool--" "--I'll marry him!--" "--gross, he's *old*!"
Turning back to Rose, Alma Towazu smiles winningly and reaching up to scratch the back of his head; this is usually a self-conscious gesture for him, but right now, standing before a background of the happy results of his own deeds, it looks more modest than anything. "I would be honored, Miss Rose," he says in his usual low tones, and he looks like he means it. He almost looks like he wants to take her hand and lead her there like a gentleman, but conscious halt takes that instinct and brings it to a screeching halt just in time, and he tries to cover it up by stuffing his hands into his pockets, having no other idea what to do with them. Seating himself on the bench, he glances over to Rose, and a moment passes before he smiles slightly -- maybe at himself -- and eyes warming, he looks over to try and meet those amazing eyes of hers, expression more serious now.
"I assume, then," he murmurs, "you have some purpose in mind now as well?"
Never let it be said that Alma's instincts aren't good; if Rose does have a tiny spec of vanity, it's about her apparent age, which actually isn't quite so advanced that she needs help to cross to a park bench. Of course, anyone who gives her a good long look might put her at considerably older than she actually is, as now and then lines of care make themselves apparent in her face. They're shorter than Chun-li's, though. Seriously.
Seating herself on the same bench at a respectable distance, the psychic focuses her attention on the children, uninterested -- or perhaps unwilling -- to look Alma in the eye for just this moment. Her voice is quiet; not a whisper, as if there were some terrible secret, but simply not loud, as if trying to encompass both herself and Alma in a sphere of privacy the park itself does not allow. "I have... come to say two things of relative import," she says at last, having spent some time gathering her thoughts. "One is of grave danger, thought the other is..." Another pause. "I hesitate to call it 'good news', but it certainly bodes no ill." Only now does she turn to the young fighter, her expression serene. "I shall leave it to you which you prefer to hear first."
Alma's a bit disconcerted by all this, so his expression remains mild as Rose speaks, not revealing much. He's not sure how to react. Danger, huh? He's been in danger before, but he gets the feeling that whatever Rose considers 'grave danger' to be, it's not Arabian assassins sinking their fifth knife into your thigh, or guerrila commanders firing machine guns into your chest, or the near-fatal embarrassment of being defeated by the girl you have a crush on for the fourth time in a row. She probably means something a bit more metaphysical. Which makes this tougher. Alma got a lot out of their last encounter, and he has a lot of respect for the woman even though he can't even begin to fathom her, but he isn't entirely accepting of a grand good-versus-evil mentality. Not that he doesn't believe in good and evil; quite the contrary. It's more the mindset that develops from such a mentality that worries him. If you believe the world is a battle between good and evil, no doubt you'll believe you're the good side; and if you happen to have an enemy, you might just slip that person under the heading of Evil to make it easier...
But somehow, Rose doesn't seem the type to succumb to that sort of ultimately disastrous mistake. And furthermore, something about Alma has been changing recently. Maybe it's his increasing powers. Maybe he's growing up. Maybe they're one and the same and it's everything that's inspiring him. But he feels like he wants to get more involved in the world. He's cultivated his sense of peace, grown more skilled at releasing the purity of his passion, but his goal wasn't to detach himself. In the end he *refused* to detach himself entirely, and on some level, that was the point. He's been doing things, yes. But not *really* doing things. With these powers, he...
She meets his eyes, and he feels himself grow stronger just for that.
"Give me the dangerous news first," he responds. "That way, I'll have more time to think about it."
The woman nods, and Alma might get the sense that she feels that his decision is likely the right one... or, more accurately, the one she would have chosen in his shoes. However, other than a slight tic of approval in her facial expression, that message goes mostly undelivered. There is a moment where she closes her eyes, but it brief... mind, during the entire thing, Alma might feel the kind of tingle in the back of his mind that he did before. The 'being watched' feeling. "Your focus is improving," she suddenly says, without opening her eyes. "It does my heart good to hear it." How she delivers such emotionally-charged messages without actually displaying any emotion is a mystery we shall never know.
But soon the eyelids flicker open, and once again the depths of her dark gaze flicker over Alma's face for a moment; curious that her other half's eyes are bright, so bright they glow, unable to looked upon, but that Rose, the 'good side', has a gaze so deep it's like staring into a black hole. "Perhaps, then, you may have felt it... the presence of the man known as 'Vega'." She gives Alma slightly curious look, but doesn't wait for him to respond. "I do not know where he had hidden himself that he so escaped my sight, but he has returned, in force. And so long as he walks the earth, you -- and I, and many you know -- are in danger."
He has a momentary powerful urge to say that yes, he's felt it, and knows all about it, and just give me his address and I'll take care of it thanks, but Alma releases that quickly before he does anything dumb. Still, as Rose continues, he takes a quiet moment to reflect on this: what on earth is wrong with him? Certainly, he has a lot of respect for this woman he doesn't understand, and he can sense her power though its source is a blank to him, but why, whenever he sees her, does he have this urge to please her? It's unmanly. It's embarrassing. It'd probably embarrass her, if she knew about it. Oh damn, what if she *does* know about it? Oh, crap!
Only one thing for it. Honesty. Alma's tried and true method.
"I'm afraid I haven't," he murmurs, managing to look only slightly ashamed of this. "Maybe I've been... too caught up in my own issues. I don't usually feel people unless they are close by, or... or if they are my friends and in a lot of trouble..." Now that he's started, he finds he doesn't want to stop. He wants to tell her everything. She can help him. She can tell him what's right and wrong. She knows the rules.
~ ...what is *wrong* with me? ~
"Who is this Vega?" he asks, eyes clear. "What is his plan?"
With a chuckle, Rose waves a hand dismissively. "It is no great failure to not have felt his presence. For a long time he was hidden even from me, and I mean no disrespect when I say that my focus is perhaps more finely developed than yours." She really does say those words in a matter-of-fact way, but in a way that implies it doesn't give her any joy for it to be true; it simply is. Perhaps, she would be happier if it *weren't*. "Though you noticed me despite my efforts to keep myself hidden. That's commendable, so do not be too hard on yourself."
However, a long pause follows that might be unnerving considering Rose never truly answered Alma's question to begin with. Looking away, Rose holds out a hand as one of the last, lone autumn leaves floats by, landing in her palm. It seems to demand her attention for some time, though at last she speaks. "Vega is a man with... abilities like ours, though on an entirely different plane." And yes, her voice does become taut as she says this, a painful admission, not like her previous evaluation of Alma. "He is a man without an iota of goodness left to him. There is no balance for him, any longer. Evil is all that he is, and all that he does. And power is all he wants."
At first, for a moment, Alma finds this hard to believe, but it is a sign of the changes within him that he starts to accept the idea more easily. He knows how he feels to want power. In the end, what might have broken him made him stronger, and he no longer clings to it. He no longer believes it will satisfy him, no longer thinks it is healthy to *be* satisfied by power. Still, sometimes, in his worser moments, he will sit and cry out for the ability to change that what he cannot, to make a greater impact on the world, to be able to more fully bring the power of his self to bear on others--
He knows how that feels.
That someone might've managed it can't be a huge surprise.
"What should I do?"
Once again, for a moment Rose says nothing, but at last brings up her handand lets the leaf fly back into the wind, watching it drift along silently through the park until it is carried over to the playing children from before, a few beginning to chase it, laughing all the while as it flits on the cold pre-winter breezes, forever out of their short reach.
"Be prepared. Know yourself. Do not be swayed. He is forever looking to escape his limitations..." And here Rose's voice trails off again, perhaps leaving Alma to wonder just what her connection is to this man that she knows so much. "Do not attempt to fight him... or at least, do not attempt to fight him alone. There is no cowardice in avoiding a confrontation with him. Warriors more powerful than you or I honor him as liege."
And then she turns to Alma once again. "There is, however, one thing, the 'neutral' news I promised." Here she pauses, again; the memory of Megumi's response to this very question both troubling and painful. Failures, after all, stick into the mind more powerfully than anything else, especially when they could have been avoided. "I am heartened to see you develop your power. But you lack balance. You have an open heart, but sometimes that open heart leaves you vulnerable, open to attack. What I offer is... a method for preserving your good nature without leaving that crack in your armor. I can teach you how to improve your focus, how to better attain 'balance'."
Alma is young, and his past experiences have granted him both wisdom and naivety -- knowledge into matters of self, and ignorance on how to deal with others -- but all in all, he is not entirely foolish. Something tells him that accepting Rose's help will, even if she herself has no desire to do so, place him as a pawn in this battle of hers. He will be a piece to play -- he will defeat other pieces, or be forcibly removed for strategy's sake -- perhaps more than just his life will be in danger. But he is not afraid. However strong he may become, however superior to others he may be, he lives to serve. He cannot help it. Even if he leads, it is only to help those whom he guides until they are fit to stand on their own. It is his nature. He would not have it any other way.
And somehow... he will take this nature, and forge it into something great... he won't allow kindness to make him weak... he will have kindness make him strong.
He will do things the right way, this time.
"I'm not strong enough to fight for you," he says quietly, looking up to meet Rose's eyes again. His gaze remains clear, but those eyes have brightened slightly, with a new, mysterious resolve. "And I wouldn't know what to fight for. But your assessment of me is correct... and if you would deign... to help me, to teach me and help me train myself, I... I would... I would be..." His voice actually breaks. Are his eyes glistening?
He will do things the right way, this time. He will not fail again...
...in a moment of clarity, like sunlight breaking over mountains, he feels it.
~ She reminds me of Mother. ~
"...I would be honored... Miss Rose. I accept your offer."
He smiles, winningly, eyes soft.
~ Because I promised that I'd never give up... ~
"I am not looking for 'soldiers'," Rose explains, though whether this is to clear things up or to set Alma's mind at ease is unclear. "My conflict with Vega is personal. I've no desire to draw others into it. But it would be remiss of me not to offer to help you realize your potential." And now she stands up, lightly brushing off her coat and glancing at Alma. "I shall... try to keep the ideological issues out of the entire affair. I simply want to give you the tools to make your own decisions and decide your own fate."
If the psychic senses any of Alma's connection between herself and his mother, she says nothing on it. "At times it will not be easy. At times you will see things in others and in yourself that are painful, demonic. You cannot strike a balance without exploring both good and evil, and understanding them. You will be hurt, both emotionally and physically. But I believe, if you perservere, that you shall be a better person for it in the end."
Trusting her words, Alma nods and rises to his feet as well, still with that slightly wavering smile. "Don't worry about me," he says heartily, eyes sparkling bravely, though they still look pretty misty. "I can handle that no problem. Sounds like good training." Exuberant youthful overconfidence isn't usually Alma's style, but he's pretty clearly putting on a brave face. In fact, it's so obvious that he's not exactly putting on a face at all, per se. It's more than he's sending a message: I know this is going to be tough, but don't expect anything but the best from me. I've got spunk, see?
Even so, his arms do tremble, slightly. He's able to keep his body mostly relaxed -- he's had a lot of practice with that, after all -- but not so much that he can avoid that little sign. There's something Alma needs to release, and though unconcernedly letting go of things is definitely his style, his hospitable nature is what keeps him from doing so in front of Rose and the children. He's holding something in, at least for a few more minutes.
"I trust you," he says honestly. "But I... I think... I should go, for... for now." He actually fiddles with his sleeve as he talks. "Should I come see you later, Miss Rose...?"
As ever, the fortuneteller is serene, unruffled. She nods at Alma. Spunk is good, per se. It's all that other stuff she's going to beat out of him with a large, heavy object. "I shall leave things to your discretion," she says, simply. "You can come to me when you feel you are ready to learn, and I shall teach you. In this way, you won't be pushed or prodded. It is important to work at one's own pace."
Gathering her shawl about her shoulders once more, where it floats with an almost mystic grace from being shaken out, the psychic looks at Alma once more. "I must go. There are others... I need to warn. Please remember what I have said about Vega, but also remember that there is no better way to resist the lure of power than to be true to yourself. Perhaps this is something you already understand, but have yet to articulate." She smiles, now, only faintly. "Like the tarot, life has a way of revealing to us not what is unknown, but rather what we have simply overlooked, forgotten." And then she turns to go. "Until we meet again, Alma."
Alma raises his hand in a quiet farewell, and then swallows as Rose turns to leave. He'll definitely be going to see her soon. When he feels ready. He knows that now, with his power increasing and his will strengthening enough to allow him to stand on his own, he's ready for it.
But first.
Casting one last look over to where the children are laughing and playing, Alma smiles widely, eyes gleaming damply in the sunlight, and turns to walk quietly over to a clump of trees far distant from everyone else and mostly out of view. For now, there are no children here, and Alma takes advantage of this moment of solitude to step around a large tree, lean back, close his eyes, and let himself slide down the trunk until he's settled into a sitting position, head lowered, back resting firmly on the strong wood.
After a few moment, soft sounds emerge from the grove, unheard.
Alma weeps.
"...ghhuh...nnh...hahh...hahh..."
Tears drip through the spaces between his fingers as his hands cup around his face, the tall youth's shoulders shake powerfully with every wracking, cleansing sob. He doesn't want anyone to see. If they see, they might feel concerned, might try to help him, might worry themselves over it. He doesn't want to cause any trouble. He just needs to cry. And if he can hear the laughter of children while he cries, it really helps.
Crying isn't childish. That is one thing Alma has learned. It is crying loudly when others can hear that is childish, because it presumes that someone is going to come and rescue you if you make enough noise...
"Mother," he whispers. "Father."
When he is finished, he blinks back the tears and looks up at the sky. Some remain, dew-like upon his long eyelashes, and they shroud his view of the sunlight, casting scintillating colors into his vision as the light passes through the salty water. He cannot help but smile.
It's just too beautiful.
Log created by Rose, and last modified on 11:29:58 11/27/2005.