Description: Hakan meets a hungry little orphan (who may secretly be a Shadaloo assassin) while trying to get businesses in Chinatown to see the light and use his superior oil. A grievous insult is made, reparations follow, and the oil baron's children make the poor Cammy miserable. Oh, will she ever know the love of family?!
Chinatown is never really a quiet place. People are always so busy to get where they're going, packed in against one another on tight sidewalks and roads stuffed with a mix of cars and rickshaws. It makes it difficult to go around the area in taxis and the like, at least if you're someone of Hakan's size. It also makes him extremely easy to find: towering over everying, wide enough to take up the whole sidewalk, it means that he has to crabwalk through the floods of people as they part and move around him, only to join together in his wake like so much rushing water.
Today, the man is out on business! Dressed to the nines in a nice suit that doesn't really fit his environs, his crisp white shirt is buttoned up with its collar folded down, while a royal blue tie somehow manages to sport enough length to dangle down his chest after being wrapped around his thick neck. Under one arm, a coat is tucked, whole the other bears a heavy suitcase. It looks like it might resemble something that an office worker would carry, only about three times larger and made of a dull brushed metal. It holds his bounty safe upon one shoulder, over everyone's head as he goes from restaurant to restaurant.
The one he's in now is a fairly popular place; perhaps the most successful business in the area. However, this place has already been warned about the big red guy trying to push his oils on people. Attempts to speak to the owner, or at least the head chef, are rebuffed despite how loudly he insists! In the end, he decides to order one of their dishes, ready to pick it apart and figure out what seasonings, what spices they use, and do it /slowly/. With luck, they'll get tired of him sitting there and let him finally make his pitch!
Cammy is loose on the streets of Southtown herself like she so often is, in her little-red-riding-hood cloak disguise, surely one of the worst disguises of a covert operative in the entire world. She's on the lookout for several things - cheesecake, random fighters, Ibuki, Quon, NESTS scumbags who need to be kicked into submission - not necessarily in that order.
And possibly some Japanese food, after Ibuki was a bit sensitive on the subject. So she is peering through the windows of various restaurants as she goes past, looking for delicious comestibles. Unfortunately she doesn't really like the food around these parts - I mean, natto, come on guys, rotten beans? - and she is as picky as her English accent suggests, hence the roaming, rather than eating.
But then, a restaurant of interest! Not for it's delicious selection of natto, but because of the enormous blue haired guy in there. Hakan! The strange Turkish guy! Hands on the glass she peers at him for a few seconds, before opening the door and trotting on in. She is sure that Master Vega will be curious about the latest, and perhaps oddest, addition to the fighting leagues. So she wanders right up to him, curious what he's doing. Ordering food, apparently. She isn't very subtle, just watching him quietly, while practically at his elbow.
Chinatown is a poor place to find good Japanese food, isn't it? And yet, so many of them try to offer it, simply because so many people find the familiar foods comforting, even if they're not up to par with the rest of the nation. No, the famous dishes are made with chicken instead of fish, or whatever similar animals they can sucker people into eating! As this restaurant is so successful, however, they can actually afford to bring in /actual/ chicken, not...cat-chicken.
Now, no man can really eat in comfort while somebody is staring right at him. Whether Cammy is right next to him or across the room, the boring gaze brings little goosebumps pricking up on the back of his neck. The chopsticks that he holds are like tiny toothpicks in his hand, holding up two chunks of orange chicken. They're lifted, but stopped even as he's hunched over, mouth open...and then he turns his head toward the little blonde spy. It's difficult for most to tell where he's looking, with his eyes pure white as they are. Then again, Cammy's master shares the same trait, so perhaps she has some way of knowing that he's looking back at her! A few silent seconds pass, the red giant completely still...and then, he shoves those orange chicken balls at her.
"Are you lost, little girl? Or hungry? Here, eat!" It seems that he's taken her interest in him as interest in his food, like an orphan staring into a family's window while they enjoy a great Christmas feast, while they struggle to find scraps of grass to chew under the ice and snow.
Cammy does look kind of thin, insofar as she looks like anything underneath the billowy cloak. She blinks, surprised, but only a little surprised at Hakan offering her food. After all, this is a restaurant. And Hakan she had pegged as being a big softy already given from what she saw on TV. And why, the other day she broke into someones house and promptly offered a drink by the occupant, so after that she's prepared to be fed at any time.
And it does look like good food, too. Well, aside from it being orange. "Hello. No, I'm not lost. Or poor.". She has the Oliver Twist accent at least. "But thank you.". She considers this an opportunity for a civilised discussion, so reaches out to take a ball from his chopsticks with tiny fingers, which she munches on while slipping into a seat opposite. After munching and swallowing - chicken is acceptable food to the Doll, unlike natto or miso soup - she speaks. "You are Hakan, no? The Turkish oil wrestler? I have seen you on TV.".
Some food taken is better than none at all! His feelings would have been hurt if his generosity had been denied entirely. His mouth spreads into a wide smile as Cammy partakes of the meal, then draws the rest in to finish off himself. Of course, it's a much tinier portion for someone like him, so it's very nearly inhaled and just gone!
"Yes, come on, come on! It is always better to eat with company!" His voice is loud and boisterous, words followed with rich laughter for no apparent reason. Already, the people in the kitchen are tired of that laugh, of his voice. When will he leave?? The noise gives way to a sort of surprised sound. "Ah? Oh, you know of me?" It's rare that anyone of the girl's apparent age knows of him, at least outside of his native land where oil wrestling isn't quite so popular. "The fight last week, was it? It's so difficult, fighting two people at once! Very nice girls, though, I'm happy for them."
Cammy is the very opposite of Hakan - small and quiet, and not loud at all. She's not worried by his laughing and general bigness though, merely watching and listening with bright eyes. She even reaches up to tug back her hood for a better look at him. "You must have to eat a lot of food." she observes, after Hakan hoovers up his plate. And she only had a tiny little chicken ball!
"Thank you for the invitation. I know you, yes. And yes, that was the fight! Those two girls. I think you were very merciful to them." she says, with a slight smile. "I am sure you would have beaten them if you really wanted. But that is all I know about you.". She takes in a deep breath. Let the questions begin!
"So... how come you are red? Is that a suntan?" she asks, curious. "And with blue hair?". She does have a rather distinctive look herself... but Hakan has her beat there alright!
Just as Hakan finishes off his first plate, he lifts his left arm and gestures toward some of the workers watching him. They disappear into the kitchen, and for a short while, the nature of the signal is unclear. Was he summoning guards? Is he onto this little assassin?! What does he know??
A mere minute after the server had disappeared, he'll be back with a new plate of food, piled high enough to be easily twice a normal serving. So this is what he's been doing: just eating and eating! "You think so?" Both elbows rest on the table before the food arrives, chopsticks still caught between his fingers as he rests his chin on the backs of his hands. "But they worked so hard, and they had me totally fooled a few times! I lost it fair and square." He truly doesn't seem bothered by it. He wasn't in it for the money /or/ the fame...it was more like a tree trip to the States, an excuse to take his daughters sightseeing. And then comes the barrage of questions!
"Ah hah hah! This?" He pinches the skin on the back of one hand. "I was born like this!" He pauses for a moment, letting the possibility sink in. "No, no, I'm kidding! I'm kidding! It's the oil wrestling in the sun, your skin gets burnt very easily." His eyes lift up, however, and that pinching hand gingerly touches upon the top of his head. "Is something wrong with my hair?" he asks as though questioned about it for the very first time.
Cammy is not skittish either, so is happy to sit there while he orders food - summon guards, pff, as if he's likely to do that! It looks like he can guard himself quite happily even if he was so inclined as to kick off.
"I think so, yes. It was very close - and that after you were playing with them. I think you were playing with them.". She smiles a little at Hakan, aww, he's just too nice. So much better than all the scum at Shadaloo. "I am sure you are happy they won, though. It is good to find a fighter who is not obsessed with efficiency anyway.". Happy Hakan makes for an easy person to talk to - so many suspicious paranoiacs out there.
"I suppose that makes sense. Burned red skin. You should be careful.". Cammy herself must be very careful given she's as white as white gets. "Your hair? Well, no, nothing wrong with it. It's just blue, is all." she explains, arching a brow at Hakan. "Do Turks often have blue hair?".
She then ponders more questions, biting on her lip as she thinks. "I've never heard of oil wrestling before." she admits. "Are you the champion of that style? Like...". Her nose wrinkles. "Like how Adon supposedly is the champion of his?". Pff.
Idly, the oil baron picks up the bottle of soy sauce on the table. Dangling it as it's held between two fingers, he jostles the container just to watch the dark liquid within slosh back and forth. "I guess I did get kind of carried away! It was like playing with my daughters for a while there." He stops all of a sudden, blinking once. "I hope they grow up to be so pretty! I should have asked what they eat!" His head turns to the side, his free hand capturing his twin between curled knuckles.
After those few somber seconds in thought, however, the new food arrives! A boisterous thanks, a 'friendly' smack on the server's back, and he's left alone with the little English girl again. In fact, it seems that most people are leaving a wide berth around the table. Huh! "Oh, so nice of you to worry! No, my skin is safe with my special virgin olive oil coating it. You'll never burn while wearing it!" He says that last part /quite/ loudly, a hand up near one side of his mouth, obviously trying to convince the staff of this very important fact! That done, he turns back to the Englishwoman, his mouth agape and eyes wide. "You've /never/ heard of...?! Seriously??" His features take on a serious tone now, pointing at his tablemate with chopsticks held together at the tips. "It's like wrestling, only everyone is covered in oil, which makes it more difficult!" And thereby superior, by extension. He sits back, skewering a dozen balls of orange chicken with his chopsticks, brandishing them like kebabs. "But no, I'm much, much too busy to partake full time. I've a business to run!" That said, he sticks the food in his mouth, little bits of wood sticking out from between his lips as he pulls up his big suitcase. The table creaks as he sets his load upon it, snapping open clasps to pull out a large bottle of his virgin olive oil, which he then sets before Cammy!
Cammy leans forward a bit when Hakan starts playing with the soy sauce, blue eyes fixed on the bottle. What's he gonna do with it? Slosh it backwards and forwards, apparently. She stares, seemingly almost hypnotised, until he is distracted by something else and puts it back down, which causes her to straighten up. "What they eat?" she asks, now bemused. "I doubt it really matters much so long as they don't eat /too much/.".
"No, I have never heard of it before, though I have heard of a few other wrestling schools. Like Zangief, I have heard of him. Have you ever fought Zangief? And I don't know. I don't think I'd like to be covered with oil on a regular basis. I mean, really covered - I read that it's good on your face but that doesn't mean it's good to bathe in all the time.".
Cammy steals one of his chopsticks and then uses it to steal one of his chicken balls, spearing it and then holding it up like a lollipop, before taking a little bite out of the side. "A business? You make...". She was about to guess, but then a big bottle of oil is set on the table before her before she can even finish that thought. Well, that was an easy guess. She peers at it for a moment. "Olive oil tastes kinda bad." she says, apologetically. "They put it on everything in Italy though. Even on their bread. Maybe you should try selling it there?".
At the very moment that Cammy speaks ill about his oil, Hakan looks...crushed. His jaw is slacked, lips trying desperately to pull themselves into a deep, terrible frown. As his mouth gradually pulls closed, she should be able to see a short-lived tremor run through his lower lip. Why, she's just hurt his feelings!
"NONSENSE!" Hakan slams his hand down on the table, causing it to tilt in his direction a little bit, then wobble back to being level. "People's palates are soiled by inferior oils, ruined!" He takes the bottle he'd set in front of her, lifting it up toward the light. "Look at it! So pure, yet full of flavor and nutrients! It doesn't burn as easily as other oils, instead giving off a wonderful aroma!" He gives the cap a sharp twist, the crack of its aluminum seal being broken, followed by the pop of its cork being pulled free. The mouth of the now-open bottle is waved before his nose as he inhales deeply, eyes closing in apparent bliss.
"Seriously, if only people knew the garbage that people use now, so unhealthy and fattening!" He looks down at his plate of chicken and pushes it away, suddenly disgusted with it. "Terrible! I can already feel my arteries hardening!" Oh, this is going to need a manager's intervention in no time...
Cammy blinks, eyes widening. "Oh. I didn't mean your oil was bad." she explains quickly, watching the big mans lip tremble. "I'm sure your oil is the best olive oil in the world. I just don't like olive oil, is all...". The latter said in a quieter than normal voice. Poor Hakan. She's English. She's stuffy. She even feels a bit guilty, especially after he just bought her food, and while Hakan may not know it, a guilty Killer Bee is quite an achievement.
Then he goes into action and she jumps as the table quakes, ready to dodge, but no, he's not a violent man by nature it seems, and when he talks oil, she calms. "Ok..." she says, hands on table, as he preaches about his apparent one true love. "I didn't think olive oil really smelled of anything much." she blinks, tilting her head, fascinated, as Hakan sniffs at this stuff in rapture, like a Scot clutching a bottle of whiskey.
Mmm, more food for her though when he pushes his plate away, she quickly munches on the last fragments of chicken ball and spears another one, to munch on that. "You don't like the food anymore? You already had almost two whole plates of it." she points out to him. "I'm sure your oil is wonderful!" she cries out, while trying to imagine what chicken balls cooked in olive oil would taste like. Eurgh.
Any arguments made to the contrary--or even agreeing with him--are apparently ignored! Poor Cammy, she gets a full lesson on the life of his oil, from the olives harvested to their squeezing to the resulting mixture of spices and such. Obviously, the finer details are held back; it wouldn't do to just blurt out one's secrets, after all. It's why his oil is so popular back in his homeland: it's actually really very good! "Ah, but people here seem willing to poison themselves with this crap."
He's calmed down now, one elbow resting heavily on the table while its hand supports his cheek. He prods at his chicken with the leftover chopstick, watching how the fried exterior gives way instead of breaking crisply. It's at this point that the manager, a small man of a very diminutive statute, feels brave enough to come out and ask the pair to pay and leave. He's disrupting the customers, after all! And, now that he's had the chance to vent and voice his disappointment, he...astonishingly to most present, agrees. "Of course! Of course, but don't think that I won't be back." He points directly at Cammy, his thick index finger just half a foot away from her face. "So long as one person in this land agrees that my oil is the best, I'll not rest!" Yeah, that's why he's here, after all!
Scooting his chair out, Hakan reseals his opened bottle of olive oil and shoves it into the manager's hands. "A free sample! Believe me, you've never tried anything like it!" With that done, he pays both his and Cammy's bill, and even remembers to leave a tip for the server! It's not his fault that the owner of this shop has such poor taste, after all. As he's about to leave, however, he stops, head lifting up and seeming as though he'd forgotten something. "How rude of me!" Turning back to Cammy, he stands upright, once again holding his case and his jacket beneath his arms. "I never asked your name!"
Cammy looks down at all the uneaten food, and gets up reluctantly - two balls are just enough to whet the appetite after all, though she probably shouldn't eat any more anyway, assuming she wants to stay reed-thin, at least, so she gets up without complaint. "Time to go?" she asks, and draws her coat around herself as she stands up and slides out from behind the table.
She watches him dealing with the manager with some slight amusement at the incessant olive oil marketing, and then blinks, looking up at him as he suddenly turns back to her, with a pointy finger no less. "Oh. You are not rude. Maybe it was rude of me to eat your food without even telling you who I am. My name is Cammy." the Doll replies in her somewhat stilted voice, with a small smile. A shame there are no Hakans back at the base. Fun. She slinks over to the restaurant door, to wait for him there.
"Cammy. Such a cute name! Your father has good taste!" He pauses then, head canting a touch to one side. "Though the cape thing is a bit much." But suddenly, it's not important! Still standing by the table, he lifts the arm holding his jacket and waves its hand at the girl. "Oh, I did not mean that you had to go too!" Then again, the manager DID insist that both people leave, even though Cammy wasn't doing anything. A sharp look from the manager draws his eyes and he takes to rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "On second thought..."
Soon joining the assassin unknowingly, Hakan has to turn sideways a bit to get through the front door. Once more is he a rock in the stream of people, towering over any and all. "Now, don't worry about the food! Like I said, it's good to have company, and you remind me of my beautiful daughters anyway!" He frowns mildly as he looks away from her and toward the rest of the district, only to have to dig out a small map from one of his jacket pockets. There are red X-marks hatched over a lot of places, and a new one is scrawled out on the restaurant he was just in. However, there are a couple of circled shops as well! Perhaps those are people who have seen the light? More likely, they just agreed to try his oil just to get him out of there.
"If you're still hungry, you're welcome to join me! It will be like an adventure!" He follows with a loud laugh, apparently finding the notion funny as he walks off toward the next vict--shop!
Cammy glances down at herself. "You don't like my cape either? Nobody likes my cape." she mutters, sadly. Now it's her who is offended. Though not much, she is a Doll after all. When he digs the map out, she walks up behind him and tries to peer over one red shoulder at whatever is on it, as that looks like it might be interesting. Though it's not the details of Hakan's planned assault on the US embassy or anything cool like that, merely Hakan's marketing plans it looks like... "I do?" she asks, doubting that, somehow, but never mind. She doesn't have blue hair after all.
But she seems game enough and trots along after him, for now, at least. "I don't really have all that long, but okay, we can walk for a little while... Did you ever fight Zangief? You never told me back in the restaurant. I am curious, as he is in the best wrestler in the world, no?".
Ah! Now that she mentions it, there was something about Zangief. In his haste to defend his precious oil, however, he'd completely ignored it! So terrible! "The Red Cyclone," he says with a wide grin, the sound of his r's rolling off the tongue. He folds his map up and stuffs it (and the pen he'd procured) back into his jacket. "I have not wrestled that man, but I would very much like to see how his style holds up against my own yagli gures!" He pauses for a moment, then looks toward Cammy, "My oil wrestling, that is. I should hope to show him that the true Red Cyclone is I, not some hairy man in silly underwear!" Really, what is /with/ that outfit? Still...oil. Anything that has to do with his oil seems to draw out a great deal of pride from Hakan. His chest swells just thinking about it, straining the buttons on his shirt.
"So what does your father do for a living?" he asks, lifting his case up over his head as two rickshaws pass on either side of him. The throng of people is really getting thick now, making it even harder to walk across the streets properly!
"A shame. I would like to see that match up. Maybe it will be on television when it happens. I am sure it will. You are redder than Zangief so you would make a good Red Cyclone." she agrees, Cammy actually having seen Zangief in the flesh not too long ago. And having been final atomic bustered by him too, ouch. "Maybe all the oil would stop him hitting you with that final atomic buster move he does. That looks really painful.".
"My father, well.". She goes quiet for a moment, pondering that, as she stays close to Hakan, and maybe slightly behind him. It's good to have a huge red guy with you when trying to navigate through a crowd, as Hakan leaves a nice trail to walk in. Tiny dolls, even if they are strong, get buffetted much more easily. "Well, that really depends, I guess. He is a scientist, but I have not seen him for some time now. I think he's still alive, I can't remember the last time I met him ,though. My memory is very bad." she admits.
"Ah hah hah! Don't you worry, little Cammy! There's not a man I've met that could overcome my oil!" Technically, it's true. It was two /girls/ that overcame it last week, so his boasting isn't entirely a lie. It's...well, just embellishing some! "Besides, getting thrown hurts no matter how it's done. You shouldn't worry about things like that, though!" He doesn't explain why. It's obvious that Cammy's just a normal, if kind of demure girl, right?
And then comes the issue of her father. Her real father, perhaps? Or is this what Vega looks like to a Doll? "Oh, such a respectable profession!" He's envisioning a lab coat and beakers, long nights spent to try and rid the world of horrible diseases or perhaps discovering great breakthroughs in technology. He reaches out to try and pat the top of Cammy's head. It's understandable if she shies away, of course! It's not like he'd take offense at it. However, the same could not be said if, say, he were suddenly flipped into the street! "In that case, you should try to go see him! If it's been that long, I'm sure that he's worried sick about his daughter!"
It's a bit of a tossup between Dr Senoh and Vega as to who is Cammy's father in her mind. She's not quite sure which one she's talking about herself! Dr Senoh, mainly. She's pondering all this stuff when Hakan distracts her with a pat on the head with a huge hand, which provokes something of a slightly exasperated sigh. The Doll is always getting patted on the head by Lord Vega, and while she keeps telling herself that she's proud of being a Doll, being treated like a little toy is a little much sometimes.
In any case, Hakan isn't running the risk of being cannon spiked, after all, he's not on her list of people Vega wants broken, and she quite likes him so far - though the Doll can be quite hard to read.
"I don't think he's worried about me. We don't really have a very close relationship or anything. I can barely remember what he looks like." she says, while pondering. "I don't know. It's all very complicated. I don't really think about it that much.".
Even as Cammy talks like that, the mild shifts in her demeanor and the clinical manner of talking about her own father...it makes Hakan look so sad! He's got such a deep frown and his lip is quivering again! It's not like when she insulted his oil. This is different. Even his eyes begin to tear up at the outer corners. "You poor, poor girl!" His case is set down on the ground, both of his hands rushing out to try and grab the Doll's shoulders. "Such a sad life! Things will get better, I promise! It'll all be--"
His affirmation is interrupted by a sharp squeal, followed by a cacophony of similar noises that threaten to drown out the high-pitched 'Daddy!' calls that come from below. From out of nowhere, no less than half a dozen little girls had appeared at his feet, each one sharing his unique hair color and style, though they're otherwise...normal! Granted, they're all still but wee little babes, yet they all begin to climb up his body, latching onto belt and seams and whatever it takes until, finally, he's covered in kids. "Ah, my little darlings, what are you doing out here??" He looks so happy all of a sudden, lifting up some of his precious little girls over his head. As he does so, his wife can be seen trying to make her way through the crowd toward the spectacle. "You little... Couldn't wait for me to finish my rounds today, huh? Hah hah!" Really, to those unfamiliar with him, the woman might be mistaken as another, though older daughter.
Cammy is feeling particularly miserable herself when Hakan starts feeling sorry for her, wilting visibly - and then she's grabbed! She meeps, and wriggles away furiously almost as a reflex action - which would no doubt leave them in a rather awkward position if not for Hakan being suddenly mobbed by a half a dozen miniature female Hakans, who start crawling all over him.
Cammy backs away into the crowds as Hakan is mobbed, in the nicest way possible. "Goodbye Hakan..." the Doll calls out to him. "You are good company. I will meet you again, and we can eat Japanese food." she promises, before making good her escape from the huge Daddy Turk.
In the middle of his dealing with his scrambling daughters like some sort of business-attired jungle gym, Hakan's attention is taken by the goodbye! "Oh!" He lifts an arm, bearing one child that seems intent on riding his bicep like some sort of swing, squealing with utter delight as he waves to to deparing assassin. "Goodbye, then! I should hope to see you again as well!" Oh...perhaps that wasn't the best thing to say in front of his wife. She's already begun to question him by the time Cammy's out of normal peoples' earshot, with the husband himself explaining why he was running around with such a cute young thing.
Log created on 10:03:48 11/04/2010 by Hakan, and last modified on 15:08:05 11/04/2010.