Description: Thanks to Quon's stalker having provided a proper e-mail address, Howard Rust contacts Quon Chen for what turns out to be, for those who have been reading logs a lot recently, rather predictable reasons. But wait, what's this he has to say about one of their teammates? Not to mention that mysterious girl who's been so smitten with Quon...?
Imagine Quon's surprise when he finds an email from Howard asking him to discuss an invitation. Strangely enough, it happened to coincide with him receiving an invitation to the King of Fighters that same day. It's funny how that type of thing works.
His response is basically to see what it is about so he arranges for the two to meet at the Pao Pao cafe. He also decided to check his theory by carrying his invite in the inner pocket of his vest. After all, that is pretty much the only reason he could think of for Rust to mention invites.
He has been sitting at the table for some time and he has a plate with a rib sandwich on it on one side of him, and a small plate of sushi on the other side. It's an interesting combination of foods but he's never been that conventional when it comes to food selection.
It's easy to tell when Mr. Rust's around if it's quiet enough. If a joint is popping pretty loudly, there's fairly good odds it's him. He's not the only sufferer of stiffness or arthritis for miles, not by a long shot. But he probably could, if he were of the mind, do a musical number with them.
...Let's not go there. Ahem.
He raises his left hand to try and get Quon's attention as he comes in. It's after class, so of course, there's quite a few students around here. Some of which recognize him, say hey, and all that. At least one visibly shrinks from the sight of Mr. Rust. He knows. He knows so well how badly they did on a recent test.
Good thing he has something else on his mind.
"Hey. Hey, sorry." He clears his throat as he draws closer. "Ran a li'l... li'l late with grading." The principal rode him pretty hard over forgetting to submit some exam results in time. That, with how he's now steadily cashing in his new set of paid leave days... well, work's pretty tense right now.
"Anyway... anyway," he says as he takes a seat, "thanks for, for taking out the time to see me. Didn't, uh, didn't really get a chance to speak with you after that, ah, that fight." Literally, Cammy all but walked off with him lickety split.
The only reason Quon hasn't noticed the popping is because that rib sandwich is just that damn good. He doesn't even notice Rust while he's in that food induced trance until that left hand is right in front of him. "Oh... Huh? Oh, hey! No, problem."
It was just as well Cammy dragged him out. He was in no condition to talk. "Yeah, I didn't even wake up until I was on my bed in my dorm." Truth be told, he finds it kinda creepy how she just gets in and out of his room like it was nothing.
Quon gestures for Howard Rust to sit down. "What did you want to talk about?"
"I forget if, if I mentioned," he says as he takes his seat. With all the hard punching of nails and occasional bits of abuse by Takuma and family, some events of the last... week or so? They're kind of a blur. Maybe he really needs to start watching for head trauma if he wants to avoid significant brain damage as he continues to gracefully age.
"Back when, when I met your friend, Antoine. Back where I grew up." That old place. It was good to see it again. Nostalgia aside, it's not really the place he wants to live any more. Southtown's spoiled him entirely, the life-threatening calls aside. "After we had our spar, we talked a bit 'bout, 'bout King of Fighters. You hear of it?"
He starts to dig around his left pocket for that invite he keeps carrying everywhere with him. C'mon, he winces, how come every time I bring it that thing has to get so deep into it?
That was where Quon differed from his friend Antoine. Where as Antoine immediately traveled the world, and sampled the fighting styles. Quon instantly consumed the media of the world, in an attempt to catch up on the things he missed why he was in isolation at the temple. Movies, Archived Fights, Tournaments, News Articles were all quickly consumed, by a teenager with a desire to return to society.
Because of that, Quon has heard about all of the major tournaments. The King of Fighters, World Warriors, the Strolheim Tourneys, and even the Jinchuu which wasn't quite convention in how it was run. "King of Fighters? Yeah. It was one of the first things I heard about when I got back from the temple. Why?"
Quon already knows the answer. He figures that he won't say anything until Rust goes into detail.
"Just a sec." The man's face turns sour. There has got to be a better place to put this to carry it around all over, he thinks to himself, even though he probably shouldn't be - but it's a focal point of his obsession these days. That for whatever reason, by whatever forces, he has such a thing in possession.
"Here." He speaks as he places a very familiar-looking envelope on the table. No matter how many times this man accidentally sits on this thing, it's still crisp. Straight. As though it refuses to be creased or bent by mundane means as he puts it on the table.
"I got this, uh, one day. King of Fighters 2011." He lets that sit for a moment before continuing. "I, I asked this of Antoine too. He... he didn't have this, I dunno if, if everyone on a team needs one, or we're good with just one, but... he accepted, so, so I'm gonna ask you here."
He nods his head. "How'd ya like to, to be a part of a team with us? You, me, Antoine, 'n a guy I know," and a guy Quon knows as of very recently, "Zach... kinda short, purple hair, 'n... really crazy-ass purple chi stuff that can knock your lights out like this." He snaps his fingers on his left hand.
Quon reaches into his vest pocket and pulls out an identical envelope. "Yup. That confirms my suspicions of why you asked to speak to me." He slides his envelope. "As for Antoine, I suspect the only reason he didn't get one is because he doesn't currently have a... static location at the moment. After all, he's just as good as I am." In fact, Quon wouldn't be surprised if Antoine's ended up getting sent to the temple in China, or ends up finding its way into his dorm somewhere along the line. He makes a note to head back to China.
When Rust mentions the potential team, Quon nods at each of the names but when he mentions Zach, he hisses in remembered pain. "I don't know much about the energy he wields, but I know for sure that it isn't chi. But either way, I'd rather have him on my side than facing him. Ouch."
Matching envelopes? Oh, he's got an invite too, good. That means Zach, himself, and Quon all have one... but Antoine, so far from last he asked, doesn't. Mr. Rust is still not entirely sure how the invite/team protocol works, whether just one for a team works or everyone needs an invite. He really has no clue.
"Yeah... yeah, he is," he remembers their spar. It was something special, that. The coffee house visit, too. It's too bad he couldn't get him to have any of that coffee. It tastes awful, sure, but after a fight like that he figured that would've picked him right back up.
The hiss by Quon draws a raised eyebrow. He missed that fight on TV. There's that talk about the 'energy he wields' and how it's not chi.'
"Hey, uh, hold on a sec." He takes back his invite to put it in a safe place before he forgets. Whether his pocket still counts as a safe place or not is... har to say. "What do you mean, uh... isn't chi?" He's kind of mystified by that remark.
"I mean, that's what, that's what all that stuff is, right? Forces of the world, 'n, 'n all that."
And as Rust puts his invite away, Quon does the same. "It's not like I have too much context for it considering where I have been training for a good portion of my life." He's sure that Antoine probably had mentioned their training situation but however he's ready to explain if needed. "But I know what chi feels like and I know what Zach's energy feels like and I know his energy isn't chi."
He pauses as he thinks of their match. "He called it psychic energy. It was the first time I've ever heard of it and I've only felt a similar energy once before that."
The older man is having a hard time trying to follow what Quon's saying, but he nods about chi energy. Rust can't call himself an expert. The closest he comes to that is 'some books I read when I was younger' and 'having, in the past, a mostly outdoors job.'
"Wait, wait." He raises a hand. "When you say, uh, psychic, you mean, uh," he taps his forehead, thinking how to phrase this, "like... he could tell us the lottery numbers, or... I, uh, I don't follow you."
His knee knows. His knee knows so much more about psychic power than the one who has it would ever know. Just about any time he gets close to Zach it starts aching. If only he caught on to that idea.
"When you say, uh, once before, er," he shakes his head, "I think I'm gonna, I'm gonna need some context."
"I guess... I don't know... I didn't know it even existed until recently." He shrugs helplessly. He simply just doesn't have the information available to explain it any further.
He can however give context. "Before I fought Zach, I fought this other fighter named Farah for a Southtown U. fundraiser. She hit me with something that caused a lot of pain but when it hit I knew it felt unlike any chi I have ever felt in my life. I could be getting the words wrong but she called it her will."
He shrugs again. "It's like a blind man who was blind all of his life magically being granted sight for just a second and then asked by another blind man to describe what he saw."
All Rust can really quantify the various energies he's been hit by is along the liens of 'how much it hurt.' Zach is close to the top, but he never thought of it as anything... really that different other than just being a guy who knew how to use his chi very, very well. Big, flashy, dangerous stuff, though, maybe almost a bit too reckless with it. Considering the likes of Luc Schrodinger running around, that says a lot.
"Farah, huh." He leans back in his seat and rolls his shoulder a little, although he considers what Quon said earlier - it could just be that the training techniques he and Antoine used are a whole lot different from what they've experienced. Rust, himself, has been hit by many kinds and, aside from the force, had trouble thinking of how Zach's could've stood out other than... other than just hitting hard.
"I'll, uh, I'll take your word for it." He's actually not sure how to - was Zach just being fancy with the way he described it to him? Though maybe he should try and find and meet this 'Farah' before long, if he can find the time.
"Though, uh... while we're here, I gotta say. You're lucky to, to have a dedicated girl like that." He's not kidding, the way she just kept hounding him about if he knew that guy in the photo, really wanting to see him... apparently being rather protective of him, then seeing him /again/ at Pacific just looking for Quon.
"Woman I thought I was, I was gonna tie the knot with, turned out she was cheating on me," he exhales. It's still a very fresh wound to the heart - if it weren't for meeting Antoine he'd have called that trip home a pretty sour experience.
Quon begins looking around when Cammy is indirectly mentioned. A somewhat nervous expression appears on his face. "You, uh... You mean Cammy?" He takes a deep breath as he tries to figure out how to explain the situation without revealing information he's pretty sure would get him killed if someone from Shadaloo caught wind of it.
"Dedicated. That's an interesting way of putting it. She broke into my dorm to eat cheesecake with me. She decided she wanted to train me in actual fighting in exchange for me teaching her how to fight in that NL 2010 game." He pauses for a second. "To be honest, I'm afraid of saying, 'No.'"
"Yeah, her." He nods. She is kinda strange, just... the way she words things, how pushy she is, but maybe he could attribute that to youthful impatience. Still, holy hell, he's never seen a girl go that crazy for someone before. If only /his/ girl were like that...
He begins dialing back those thoughts a little when Quon mentions the stuff she did. "She... what?" He leans forward. "Broke into your place? Uh... really." The part about training in 'actual fighting' in exchange for teaching her how to fight in that NL 2010 arcade game?
"Well, her hands are... they are petty fast," he notes, remembering how quickly she snatched that pad away from himself. "Uh, if I can be honest, I... I don't think she's from these parts, she does kinda... does kinda talk strange, I mean, her English is good! British English," he adds, "but... ahh, women. Who knows how they think, huh?"
He wonders if he really should get a bite to eat this close to being time to head up to the Kyokugen Dojo. He doesn't feel like throwing up his late lunch again following another solid Ryo punch to the gut.
"Yeah, she did that. I'd put out a restraining order but, to a fighter of her caliber, well..." He decides to parody an old rap song that Antoine told him about when they were at the temple together. "Get up and get, get down. One One O is a joke in Southtown."
He does mull over the strangeness and not from these parts and Quon has the perfect explanation for why she acts so strange. The question is how to put it that won't send Shadaloo knocking at his door... Or waiting in his dorm room without the cheesecake. "I think she might have lived a very, very, /very/ sheltered life as a kid."
"You wanna know what, what's a joke?" Howard looks up and points a finger. "How, how the people in America didn't do shit, and... and I mean /shit/, when Southtown got invaded." To be fair, who could've? Southtown was being invaded blatantly and openly by the very most dangerous forces in the world, bar none.
He grunts again as he relaxes in his seat a bit more while Quon offers about the most reasonable explanation there is to a man like Mr. Rust. "Yeah... that's, that's what I'm thinkin'. Who knows, maybe... uh, maybe she grew up a lot like you 'n your friend did." That's his best guess.
"Anyway... if you're up for King of Fighters, if you're up for that... glad to, to have you aboard." He stretches out his right hand for a handshake. If Quon takes him up on it, the grip isn't very good. He's not holding back, he just can't squeeze so hard with it any more.
"I'm definitely game. I hope to make a name for myself out there." He extends his hand out towards Rust's and returns the shake even if the grip isn't strong anymore. After that, his gaze returns to the rib sandwich he has on his plate.
Quon chooses to take a bite of his sandwich instead of responding to how Cammy might've lived a similar lifestyle to his and Antoine's. Probably better off that way since there was a key difference in how they were raised. They were raised up to believe that things like breaking into people's houses was completely wrong, where to Cammy, breaking into a house was probably how she spent another Tuesday.
"You 'n me both." The older man says. Of course, now they're going to have to resolve the issue with Antoine and his invite - if that's specifically necessary for participation beyond 'right to form a team.'
With another stretch and an accompanying sound of joint pops, he gets himself up out of the chair with some effort. His body feels ready to lay down for the day, but nope, not until Kyokugen practice which will, in fact, lay him out for the day and more than likely the next.
"I'll let ya, let ya back to the sandwich. Thanks for the time." He nods in approval as his heart is effectively skipping a beat - oh wow, I think we got a full team, awesome - that's what the youthful part of him thinks.
Still a lot of questions in the air though, the Antoine issue aside. What's this about Zach and not using chi? Can that 'Farah' provide answers? What about that oddly dedicated girl, Cammy?
These will probably not be at the forefront of his mind whenever Takuma makes good on his threat to use his own head to hammer down nails.
Log created on 10:26:11 11/17/2010 by Rust, and last modified on 13:14:58 11/17/2010.