Description: Vega finally has a sit-down with the young man that's been courting his favorite (if emotionally clueless) Doll. His stance may seem surprising given his reputation, but it leaves Quon in between a rock and a hard place before sending him off with an unspecified shipment to a Southtown toy store. Short, sweet, and the groundwork is laid for future Doll abuse.
Due to Geese Howard's empire, media had became very important in Southtown. As a result, plenty of studios could be found here. Granted, they didn't have big name that Hollywood had, but for an out of work actor, there were worse places to be looking for a job.
One such out of work actor, Quon Chen, happens to be leaving one of the studios after an audition. He feels as though he's done particularly well however sometimes it's not always talent that gets the job. Having the right look is as important if not moreso in some cases.
Now, he's on his way back to the dorm but first he has to get his car out of the parking lot before he can be on his way.
Oh, there's nothing wrong with Quon's car. Nothing at all. It's parked exactly as he left it, in that very same spot.
And yet, things don't /feel/ quite right.
There's a lack of people; a lack of life. Normally, there would be /somebody/ out walking, busy people doing busy things, dogs being walked, bikes being ridden with their owners in obnoxious bright yellow and orange shirts. But no, there's none of that whatsoever. At least, not in the immediate area! Down the street in either direction, there are moving cars and travelling people, but every last one of them turns at the nearest intersection, moving around this particular area instead of travelling through it. An odd coincidence, indeed?
Quon isn't known for being among the most perceptive of people, he has fairly good gut instincts. It's why he doesn't notice the lack of people at first. However what he does notice is the distinct feeling that something isn't what it seems.
He glances around and sees no one around which to someone more observant would be a confirmation of something going on. To Quon, it's just a mere oddity. That feeling gets stronger just as his hand touches the handle of the door and when he sits in the car, he just has this desire to be anywhere but there in that parking lot. But without some type evidence, he just shrugs it off and turns the ignition.
How utterly strange. As soon as Quon closes the door, everything seems right again. It starts with a single person walking out of the casting office that he'd just left, and then a car will pass by on the street. Little by little, traffic returns to the area, making everything seem like the city is working exactly as it should.
"Drive."
The rich voice comes from the back seat, behind Quon. Where a moment ago there was nothing, now the car suddenly sags a bit on the driver's side. A well-groomed man sits in the back as though he belongs there, as this vehicle were his own and the actor his private chauffeur. Gone are the man's usual cap, cloak, and miscellaneous decoration. His uniform is bereft of metal and insignias and his hair is slicked back with a slightly wet look. Were it not for the overpowering crimson of his suit, he might look like a very...very bulky bureaucrat. His lips are pulled into a dire frown, however, and his eyes are frighteningly unnatural. Without pupils, it's difficult to tell exactly where he's looking, but if Quon were to look at them through the rear-view mirror, he would /know/ that the man is looking at him--through him.
And then Quon suddenly gets that feeling of wanting to be anywhere but his car. His heart is beating rapidly as he looks and sees a man suddenly in the back seat of his Honda. There's something familiar about the man in red, but he doesn't know what it is at first. It's one of those cases where you see someone dressed a certain way so many times that when you see them in something else you don't quite recognize them. When he looks at the eyes, he figures out right away who it is and mouthes a few swear words.
"I suppose I knew this day would come. I didn't think it would come so soon." His voice is even. Carefully controlled. Trying to physically hide the fear inside of him even though he knows there isn't any way he can hide it from this particular individual. It's only because he knows he has lost control of this situation and that controlling the outward appearance of it is the only thing he really has control over right now.
"Where to?"
As if a spoken answer to the young man's dread, Vega begins to breath inward, lips sealed while his nose draws in the delectable aroma of fear. His chest swells, further enhancing the effect. His arms are folded over that chest, thick things that have to pull slightly apart due to the puffed torso.
"Just drive." His tone is not one of anger, not one of excessive harshness. It's simply an order; there's no mistaking it. "And listen."
It's really not an unreasonable demand, and should inspire some small spark of hope. Perhaps it's difficult for the poor, frightened young man; he's never met the Shadaloo Lord, after all, so he doesn't know what a terrifying presence he brings. Not really. The air does not feel as though a deathly chill hangs in it. There is no sensation of having his brain prodded and memories sifted through. In that respect, the dictator is acting with no small measure of restraint...or he simply doesn't feel the need to exert himself against someone of such slight importance. But then, why has he, personally, come? There will be plenty of time to find out, as it becomes quite apparent. Not once does a single person turn to look at the car, if Quon were to look. In fact, there's a blanket desire to look /away/ from it, surrounding the vehicle for some many yards around it.
The Chinese man simply nods, shifts his car out of park and then pulls out of the parking lot. And he drives. But while he drives he's careful to head away from Southtown University. He doesn't want the Lord of Shadaloo anywhere near the school or the innocents anywhere around there through action of his own.
He takes a winding route through the streets and nods to Vega, to indeed signify that he is listening.
For a while, too, Vega is silent. He pays little attention to the person driving him, instead looking into the city through the window. It's an awful place at times; now that Geese is out of the picture, it's under the thumb of an even more unlikeable man. Its borders are far too close to those of the nation that he's trying to base himself in now, but soon, he'll have to send Kain a proper greeting...
But that's not important, not at the moment. "Cammy." He likes to speak briefly, it appears, to not waste much breath upon the wriggling maggot that he's forced to share air with. "You've picked up a very dangerous new friend, I'm told." But who told him? And how much does he know? "And a very generous benefactor." ...Wait, is that Cammy that he's still talking about? Is it Sagat?
Those first moments of silence are nerve wracking. Quon keeps waiting for something to happen. Is he going to finally talk? Is he going to kill him and be done with it? Whatever happens, he wishes that Vega would finally get on with it.
When Vega finally speaks, he finally talks about what he already knew the conversation would be about. But the generous benefactor causes him to raise an eyebrow. Does he know about Sagat as well or is he fishing to see if Quon will reveal things on his own.
Quon responds in a way that doesn't overtly reveal anything verbally but emotionally he just doesn't know if he can avoid revealing it. "Indeed."
It would appear Quon is just as happy to keep his response as brief as Vega is inclined to keep what he says brief.
So shrewd! Quon's fear is palpable, yet he's doing a surprisingly good job of remaining in control, even outwardly. The display brings a wry grin to the dictator's face, his white teeth showing between parted lips. It's often entertaining to see the rabble attempt to be more capable than they are. "There's no need to rush things," he says, as if answering that unspoken request. In fact, given that it's him, perhaps he's doing exactly that. "Indeed..." He parrots the word, mulling over that non-answer. "What, exactly, do you plan to do about the girl?" Yet, before he can even receive an answer, a hand reaches forward between the driver and passenger seats. His fist, now that it's up close, is a massive thing, with clear joints and no doubt the strength to crush the captive man if he so desired. Yet he just extends his index finger, pointing off and to the left. There's a building ahead, one with a great big entrance at the road as though for a parking garage. "Turn."
Quon's mouth opens to respond to Vega's query but no words come out. Not because of fear though considering the amount he's feeling right now, it would be more than understandable if he was scared silent right now. No. Quon's words don't come out mainly because he's not given enough time to answer.
He does however follow the orders even though there's a strong desire to let his car get T-Boned just so this all will be over. Considering that Vega just suddenly appeared in his car, however, this train of thought simply gets discarded as suicidal and unlikely to work.
As for that question Vega asked, it remains unanswered. Even Quon hasn't figured out what he'll do about her.
The hand remains extended for a few seconds more, then pulls back, but not all the way. Its fingers curl over the headrest of Quon's seat, the man himself leaning slightly forward. Now that there's no answer at all, Vega's presence is more physically felt. Not through the simple fear of being near him, no. There's a way that the skin chills, goosebumps peppering up on normal people's arms, how hair stands up on the back of their neck. There's the sound of crushing fabric, of the metal framework withing creaking under pressure. "/What/" he starts to ask again, a mote of irritation, of impatience, now in his voice. "...Are your plans?"
As Quon drives into the big cinderblock and brick building, the shutter door closes behind him. There's no route outside beyond that door. In fact, this floor looks much like a basement! There's machinery all about, but it's all disconnected, most of them covered in tarps. Some of it resembles the equipment that he'd seen transferred from Thailand into China! That is, if he cared to look with all the shooting. There are people here, though. Workers, common folk by the look of them, but strong guys that heft and lug around heavy metal cylinders, setting them onto carts which are then pushed into a cargo elevator, that being the only apparent way to the higher floors.
A shudder...
That's the only visible response Vega gets from the actor since most of the other signs are hidden by clothing. As he glances around at the equipment he saw in China but he says nothing about that. "I have no plans."
He takes a deep breath. It's almost as if he's finding himself in the middle of an angry father's interrogation of a daughter's suitor and so far it's only half as terrifying as he'd imagine it would be. Of course there's still room for things to get much worse for the young college student.
"Mmm." It's a thoughtful sound as Vega sits back in the seat, causing the car's shocks to shift with the movement. There's an order to park anywhere, to get out of the car. As soon as it's stopped, he opens the door and steps out, much like any lesser man would do. The vehicle, again, lifts up as it's relieved of his weight. Immediately, a shorter man comes running up to the Shadaloo leader, bits of fabric slung over his arms. Another man, this one much larger, is burdened with shiny, rounded metallic things.
"I expect you to continue to spend time with her."
...Wait? The most evil man alive is /sanctioning/ these 'dates'? That can't be right. Yet, he doesn't look like he's joking. Indeed, it would be hard to imagine him joking at all! As the words linger in the air, he's 'dressed' with the slick metal pauldrons that he usually wears, his charcoal-colored cloak snapped to it shortly afterwards. Oh, Quon should recognize that; Cammy's is modelled directly after his own, with the cut and length just enough to keep from brushing along the floor. His shinguards are strapped and snapped onto his lower legs, and he himself opens up the joined semi-circular metal molds that close around his wrists. The crown jewel is that hat, the very one that his Doll prizes so much. It's lifted onto his head, twisted /just so/. With all that done, he turns to Quon, now the very image of military leadership, his posture straight, his heels close together.
"And I expect you to indulge her in this...wasting of her time." No. It's too easy. There has to be some sort of catch.
And Quon stops and parks the car and simply watches Vega put on the remnants of his well known outfit, quiet the entire time, and suspicious of the apparent sanctioning of these 'dates.' Something in his gut is screaming that there is something wrong here.
Of course his suspicions end up being justified when he talks about indulging Cammy in this wasting of her time. 'Wasting of her time,' keeps echoing in his head and becomes the thing that instantly lets him know that it's a trap.
It's because of this realization that Quon himself puts out a feeler. "And if I were to no longer indulge her in this, as you put it, wasting of her time?" After all, while Quon is reasonably afraid of this man, he still wants to know what Vega's game is since it may end up being the difference between life and death.
The larger man's chin juts out slightly. There's a momentary thoughtful look upon his face, a brow arching up ever so slightly. Here stands one of the most powerful men in the world...and Quon is attempting to negotiate. It's cute, really. It shows a spark of resolve that he didn't think was in the boy.
Now, the question is: how far can he press it?
"That's rather simple." He steps closer, each touch of his boot clicking upon the floor, a clink of the metal shinguards. His hand presses down on the roof of the vehicle. The body shifts downward, springs striving for balance. Vega himself stoops down only slightly, enough to bring his face level with the window. Hunched over so, the light finds it hard to define his features. It's as though a mask of darkness melts down from the brim of his hat, exposing little but the pale white eyes that, now, wear the faintest of violet hues. "If any harm comes to my little toy, or if you set your hands upon her in any fashion, you'll wish you'd been left to bleed out under that pile of corpses."
Quon scratches his head in utter confusion. It's official. He's in a catch 22. Dating Cammy won't end well for him and breaking it off will end just as badly. As a result he finds himself trying to figure what he should do.
Quon pretty much is radiating fear and confusion further feeding Vega as he glances around. He does, to his credit, reply with a physically apparent calm and poise even if he isn't feeling those emotions inside. "With all due respect sir, it is my belief that your 'little toy' is perfectly capable of making me wish that all on her own without your intervention." He pauses and then continues while he maintains an even tone he finally verbally admits his fear, "Which isn't to say you can't put a completely different spin on that. Really it's the difference between the job being done and overkill."
Isn't that how it always is? Damned if you do, damned if you don't?
Vega stands upright again, pulling his hand from the roof of the car and allowing it to bounce back to its natural state. However, it's just so that he can snap his fingers, drawing the attention of everyone on the floor. He points out two men in particular. "You two. Bring them." The men in question are some of the bigger ones around, which is perfect given their task. They look at each other, then dig under the tarp covering what appears to be a bunch of boxes. Crates, in fact; wooden ones, each about two feet square. "Open your trunk," the leader commands, glancing at Quon out of the corner of his eye. So be it, if that trunk isn't immediately opened, he'll do it manually. That's the impression he gives, now that all the amusement has bled from his face, now that he's used up his allotment of 'politeness'. "Frankly, I don't give a damn what it is Cammy wants with you. She's an assassin, not some love-starved.../thing/." How odd, then, that he's allowing this farce to continue. Vega certainly offers no explanation.
Quon pops his trunk from inside and he turns towards Vega and nods to him. His stomach is turning, his palms are sweating, and all he can think about how he'll end up getting pulled over with lord knows what planted in his trunk. He'll get arrested and...
It's best not to follow this train of thought all the way through. The college student is scared out of his wits but other than those sweaty hands gripping his steering wheel, he physically looks the picture of calm.
There's nothing to worry about, surely! The two men are simply placing some crates in Quon's trunk. What could an evil organization bent on world domination possibly have that would get a simple college student in trouble? For his sake, he had better not try to open them and find out.
"Now enough of this. Go, deliver these to the toy store behind Geese Tower. The workers there will know what to do with them." He turns on his heel and heads toward the elevator, apparently finished. A simple hand gesture gets the shutter door opening, finally giving the poor man a means of escape. Almost all eyes are upon him and that car, once the trunk is slammed shut and the men move aside and posture on either side of the vehicle. "Go on, get movin'." "You heard 'im, get lost."
Log created on 09:50:41 12/01/2010 by Vega, and last modified on 14:00:59 12/01/2010.