Description:
[OOC] Rose starts a NEW LOG. "Which also means YOU POSE FIRST, since I'm going into YOUR HEAD."
[OOC] Haggar says, "I assume the premise is 'haggar is sleps, rose JUMP IN DREAM' ?!"
[OOC] Rose says, "Yes."
After a long day of paperwork and not really noticing much going on, Mike Haggar has retired to his penthouse on the fifth floor, an 'apartment' that takes up about as much space as one-quarter of any of the other four floors of the Haggar Arms. His evening is short - he walks in, pulls off his belt immediately, hanging it beside the door. Then shoes, then a quick trip to his room to change from his working suit to a t-shirt and shorts - it's a hot day, and after about five minutes he's already taken off his shirt and tossed it on the chair in the living room. Then Haggar microwaves a pair of frozen dinners, not in the mood to cook anything, pours himself a bourbon, and sits on the couch to watch the news and sports wrap-up. Then, he finally retires to bed.
The Mayor of Metro City is not having a good night - he's been reliving the three times he's gone toe-to-toe with entire gangs, something he only does when something is going on in his city that he doesn't know about, but should. His dreams exaggerate every violent detail. He sees Cody, Guy, Maki, Carlos, Lucia, and Dean seriously injured time and time again while somehow he avoids any kind of hurt, and hates himself for it. Fires burn houses down as though through time-lapse photography, and pistols blow impossible holes in walls. If Hell was a gang war, this might be what it would look like.
Haggar sweats in his sleep, tossing and turning. As it is now, tomorrow will be another day washed of color for him, another day of going through the motions while knowing there's something he needs to be doing... but doesn't know what.
A pimply-faced transsexual with electric pink hair raises a pistol towards the downed Cody, a policeman's hat perched on 'her' head as 'she' sights along it. "Bye bye, big boy," Poison husks with impossible resonance, finger starting to squeeze.
It never gets there.
The fire stops flickering, casting a steady and cold glow in the vibrant, almost sick dream world. Cody looks pained, but he's frozen too, clutching a wounded thigh. There's no bleeding, now.
A purple-haired woman steps in, seemingly from stage left, and pauses at the side of Poison, examining the hat. She then claims it, plucking it carefully up and looking over towards the viewpoint of the dream itself. "Michael Haggar," she says, in perfect (if faintly Italian-accented) English. "Is it not? Or do you prefer another name?"
Haggar is a smart man. Maybe one of the smartest muscleheads around. He's also a very openminded man - San Francisco may be the only city in the country more... diverse than Metro City, and Haggar's learned to accept a lot of things. So when everything slows... and then the woman appears... it doesn't take too long for the wrestler to realize that this is not like his other dreams. He feels like he can control himself now... and that's definitely not what his dreams have been.
He turns slowly, staring evenly at Rose for a long moment before responding, "Mike Haggar is what's on my birth certificate." He folds his arms. "My friends call me Big Mike."
If Rose starts to address him as Big Mike, he cuts her off with, "It's Haggar." Sassy.
As a note, Poison is super-hot, and female.
This is a BAD dream, Mr. Haggar. Remember that.
(penis)
"Really? I see." Rose says; she's recognizable after a little glancing, as she steps towards Mike himself. She puts her free hand on her hip as she spins the hat on her finger, looking up towards the dark urban sky with a pensive frown.
Then she looks back down. "But, I believe I shall call you Mr. Haggar, for now, if that will not trouble you." She smiles, though it's more politeness than anything else.
Her expression regains seriousness shortly afterwards. "I am Rose, and I do not mind if you call me such. I apologize, to have come to you in such a way, but the world is in great danger."
Well, /that's/ interesting.
Haggar folds his arms, but tension visibly leaves his shoulders and hips. His ponderous eyebrows remain furrowed, but more in uncertainty than any attempt at intimidation. He doesn't recognize Rose from anywhere, as he has always been primarily concerned with his own city as opposed to the affairs of the world. "The world, huh. ...I mostly keep to my own people here, my city, everyone knows that. What do I have to do with the world, Rose?" He's gruff, but it should be understandable, since it's not every day someone jumps into his dreams.
Then something occurs to him: Is this what he is supposed to be doing?
Haggar has reconnected.
"Your city is part of the world," Rose says, twirling the hat further. She then lets it slide down to hold it gently in one hand. "Metro City trades with every port in the world, does it not? From Europe to Africa to Asia to Australia... all of it flows through your great metropolis."
Rose's eyes half-lid. "In time, of course, they will come to you. They may even make their offers friendly, or come as businessmen - seeking to invest in your city, until such time as they show their true colors."
They open again. "Subversion; narcotics; horrible acts done to young men and women, in order to train them as loyal attack dogs to one man's maniacal lust for power."
Ah, theater.
Haggar feels a little uncomfortable as Rose goes on, as though it reminds him of something he doesn't even know about, but he works hard to keep it from showing. He near-growls, "Get to the point." Haggar's never been a man of many words, famously.
Haggar has dropped a connection.
[OOC] Rose says, "sry"
[OOC] Rose says, "Other scenes plus frustration at elsewhere"
[OOC] Haggar says, "It's cool."
[OOC] Haggar says, "I gots my roguelikes"
Rose chuckles, faintly.
"Thailand has been occupied by, perhaps, the most dangerous man who presently walks the Earth." This may be poetry, or she may be being very specific about the nature of the threat. She looks up, and grasps the hat in her other hand now, gesturing sweepingly. "His ambition is without limit, but the strength to oppose him exists."
She tilts her head to the side, looking directly at the fighting mayor. "You are one of those who have that strength. I can only plead with you, to aid us in ending this threat, before it engulfs the world itself."
Haggar has reconnected.
[OOC] Rose says, "Did you get my pose?!"
[OOC] Haggar says, "Yessir"
Haggar looks exactly like he both swallowed something vile-tasting and also realized some of it was in his moustache. "...Vega." He turns away, thoughtfully thumbing the aforementioned moustache. Everything in the dream around him slowly leaches away to a pale white as something Haggar has been subconciously worrying about is conciously pushed away. He's dealt with Shadaloo's lower-tier minions before, busted little cells holed up in Metro City here and there. It's never been all that major, but it's a name he knows.
And Thailand... to Haggar, it had been just another thing on the news that shouldn't be happening, but he always told himself it was someone else's problem. Stick to your own. Keep them safe.
The dirt, small scratches, and tears in Haggar's clothes from the dream slowly seal up and vanish. It's telling of the man's soul that, when at 'neutral,' so to speak, he is still clad in his green pants, orange-plated boots, and single strap. Save for the grey wings and wrinkles around his eyes, it looks like Haggar had just stepped right out of the ring in 1992, retiring to go into politics. Maybe this is what he's supposed to do, the thing he's been 'ignoring' that has caused his dreams to turn to chaos.
Through all of this deliberation, it's clear to see that Haggar has come to some sort of center in himself, as the images of violence still hanging on fragment and blow away as if dust. Everything is a pale grey save for the purple Rose and the... flesh-colored Haggar. "I've been dreaming lately. I don't dream often... I see all the chaos and violence I've stopped, but I'm not stopping it, just drifting through it. When I have these dreams... it's like there's something I'm not doing. Something I'm missing. Maybe I've been too focused, or not focused enough. Letting what my life is blind me to what my life needs to be."
Haggar has dropped a connection.
Rose nods once, solemnly, and extends one slim and well-manicured hand towards Haggar. "What marks you," she says, "is Strength; it is what has defined you, through your life and through your dreams. It brings power, but, it can also bring suffering."
She smiles, somewhat more authentically; she glows, too, a faint blue and green light shimmering around the outline of her body. "I cannot say that this will be the end; nor, as an English man once said, the beginning of the end. But it is a beginning, and it is never too late for one - don't you think?"
Haggar turns to more fully face Rose again, folding his arms. This time, he's fully relaxed. Back in the physical world, his sweating has stopped, he's rolled over to the other side of the bed, and lies gently motionless. Far in the distance, another dream seems to be coming - memories of high school, of football and friends long past. He almost grins. "I'm not going to say I'm young anymore... but it's thirty years too early to start saying I'm old. It's never too late."
"You are never too old," Rose says, before chuckling to herself. She then lifts her head up and raises the hat, waving it - "I'm sorry that I can't take this with me. It does look rather rakish, doesn't it?"
She tosses it, carefully, back onto the head of Poison. It lands backwards, and she tells Haggar, "I am in Southtown." She tells, then, a number (which is likely way too expensive to call, what with the whole Japan thing and all - FOR NOW). "We will gather there. I shall make certain that you are all well prepared for what is to come."
Haggar 'favors' the hat with a rather stern look. It too fades into dust as it leaves Rose's hands. It's good to be aware of dreaming. The big man regards Rose once more. "That's one word for it." He then lets Rose continue, and responds simply with a nod, accepting all this rather well. It's been filed away as 'something that has to be done' and once it gets there, Haggar wastes no time hesitating.
Rose laughs, lightly. "I won't take up more of your time, then," she says, before bowing slightly. "I hope that you will enjoy your good night's rest. And, I hope to hear from you soon." With that, the light around her seems to flare up, surrounding her body and her skin until it hides her completely - then it vanishes, leaving nothing behind.
When Rose vanishes, her 'hold' on Haggar's dream goes with it, and he starts to fall back. His massive muscles turn to a young athlete's well-toned body, the grey in his hair darkens, lengthens, and curls, and his moustache flakes away. The mostly-bare chest and pants give way to a varsity jacket and jeans, as Haggar's dreams take him from memories of gang wars and to memories of his younger days.
[OOC] Rose says, "Damn, no fight?!"
Log created on 21:47:04 06/06/2007 by Rose, and last modified on 23:54:14 06/06/2007.