Description: Finally, Pepe gets to meet the man that he'd come to Japan for! But, why is such a supposedly good guy in prison? Did the young man waste his time (and money) for nothing?! Short, social, no combat.
Even though Quon has been in prison, he hasn't been resting. He had been training. He has been working on forms, working on flexibility, working on training his physical strength.
While in prison, he emotionally went through two different phases. First there was the point where he kept asking, 'Why me?' This was the phase where he did his usual training regime. Then he went through a angry phase. Anger at those who have cowed him into semi-submission through his knowledge of their power, anger at himself for being so afraid and for quite possibly jeopardizing his own dreams because of those that he has pretty much been bullied by. The anger ended up being manifested in a more rigorous training regime.
Quon nears the end of his cell block training session when he's informed by the guards that he has another visitor. He finishes up that last push up and then heads off to the visitors' area and sits down at the table as he waits for the visitor to make their appearance.
Prison -would- be the place to work on bulking up, wouldn't it? All sorts of taxpayer dollars go into making sure that correctional facilities have the very best in workout and safety equipment. Have you ANY idea how much it costs to build a Bowflex that can't be picked up or scraped into a ridiculously-sized shank? It's very difficult, trust me.
Ah, but the visitor. Could it be Cammy, once again trying to smuggle snuggles through the bulletproof plexiglass? Maybe Antoine, come to see his best friend...or even Rust? Quon has proven to be a particularly popular inmate, though the young man that's come to see him this time is someone completely new. Someone he's never met. At first glance, his fine looks and jet hair give him the appearance of some sort of professional. It's the sort of face one would see on court shows, filling the role of the stern yet kind district attorney that's just hungry for justice. Perhaps it's the frown on his face and the crossed arms...over his jumpsuit. Well, that scratches out the possibility of some lawyer trying to shark up a client. Besides, hasn't the 'perp' paid his bail?
"Quon?"
Pepe looks the guy dead in the eye, his weight shifting from foot to foot with gentle shifting of his hips. The exit is closed and locked behind him, causing him to look back...and then to the side, up, and all around. This is not a comfortable place to be! Visibly perturbed, the young man sets his hands on his hips and takes a few steps closer, stopping to stand behind the chair on his side of the table.
"Quon, as in..." Come to think about it, he doesn't even /know/ the guy's last name. Or his first, if Quon is some sort of weird family name! "Well, you know a guy named Antoine?"
Up to this point Quon has only received visitors he knew. So the fact that he doesn't know this one has given the Chongquan fighter a reason to raise his eyebrow. Why is he here? Is this guy someone from Shadaloo?
When the man across from him sits down, he picks up the handset and listens. "That's me." He pauses when he's asked if he knows Antoine. If this guy is from Shadaloo he doesn't want to put him on their radar. Lord knows he had to deal with enough between getting shot by gang members in Compton and the harassment he faced at the temple. He just doesn't want to put that on his best friend as well. After a few moments his mind goes back to a letter Antoine sent him. About his travels to Mexico. "Yeah I know him. And that would make you either that flashy guy or the luchador, right?"
Pepe doesn't really /sit/ so much as he flips the chair around and plops down on it backwards. His knees spread around the back of the thing and one arm rests upon the rounded countours. His chin rests atop that forearm while the other hand folds the handset by his ear. Shortly after that, though, he just pulls his other arm up to join the first, letting the receiver remain cradled upon his shoulder.
"Flashy guy? I think so." Well, this isn't quite like what he'd have been described as, on both parties' behalf! He was told that this Quon was a good fellow! Someone he'd get along with! Not...not some jerk in jail. And likewise, Pepe himself would have probably been described as energetic, friendly, and very outgoing! Now, it just looks like he's brooding, what with that pouty frown and furrowing brow.
"Man, this sucks! I flew all the way out here to meet you on his commendation, and you're in this kind of place?" Oh, the disappointment! The betrayal! The Mexican slouches in his backwards seat, tipping it forward so that it's balancing on two legs instead of four. "You were framed or something, right? A good man, thrown in the slammer for a crime he didn't commit, thrown under the wheels of the court!"
"Not quite." Quon looks around to make sure there aren't any prying eyes and ears around before he speaks up. "I got myself in here by my own actions. Got arrested for drunk driving, and underaged drinking."
He decides not to go into his reasons for doing that. After all, even if he wasn't with Shadaloo. What's to stop them from eventually snatching Pepe up and interrogating him? And if he is with Shadaloo why admit that he got himself arrested on purpose.
"I probably could've paid bail sooner but I figured I should've done time for what I did anyway." He then pauses. "However, if I want to get ready for King of Fighters, I'm gonna need to stretch my legs. Stick around for a couple of days, and we'll have that match up."
The admission just makes Pepe slouch even more! It's like he's melting onto the seat, with the handset barely able to cling to its precarious perch. His arms have unfolded and they're sort of jutting forward, a bit downward. His eyes dart sharply from feature to feature, looking at Quon in an attempt to gauge his words against his expression.
"That's pretty good of you to man up to something like that." Maybe he's not so bad after all. People make mistakes, and he seems willing to take the punishment for it! Thinking about it like that lifts a great deal of stress from the "flashy guy's" mind, and it shows in the way that he sits up a little bit straighter, gradually rising up to a proper sitting position...albeit still backwards. He even starts to grin, just a little; it's the sort of grin that makes one's cheek dimple. "So he mentioned me, huh? Antoine seemed like a fun guy, even if I felt kind of bad for stomping him so hard." The college man rocks a bit on those two chair legs, just pushing with the balls of his feet. And then, he just stops.
"Wait. You're going to be in THAT tournament?" His eyes have grown wide, and it's now with complete fascination and even a bit of awe that he looks at Quon! "Seriously? That is /AWESOME/. Are you going in with anyone? When does it start? Can I come watch?"
"I'm pretty sure Antoine had fun. He was happy that he met you in his travels." Pepe's good mood becomes contagious and he finds himself smiling. "Yeah. In general, he had fun in Mexico and talked about how he learned a lot there.
Quon hooks his foot into the bottom of the table and rocks his own chair backwards, stopping himself in a reclined position. "Yeah I'm gonna be in /that/ tournament. I got my invite before craziness happened. So far, There's me, Antoine, a guy named Howard Rust, and a guy named Zach. Before I got here there was an optional 5th slot available. I wouldn't be surprised if it was filled while I've been here. And as for you watching, by all means. I'm at my best when I have an audience."
Quon's grin just gets bigger, and even the happiness can be seen in his eyes.
It's one hell of a change, isn't it? No strange assassins, no towering giants, no evil overlords. It's just...well, perhaps something of a budding fan. The more that Quon talks, the more that Pepe's convinced that his hightailing it to Southtown wasn't a TOTAL mistake. He smiles openly now, with lips spread and a brilliant sparkle of white showing through momentary gaps when they pulls apart just a bit.
"That bastard, he never said anything about being in a tournament! Man, I'm so jealous!" His hands smack against the top of his chairback, then seem comfortable enough just resting over it. Fingers curl over the rough, worn wood. "Okay, but before all that, we get a round, right? I mean, I got myself stuck here trying to meet you, the least we can do is see how--"
He pauses all of a sudden, looking like he'd just caught himself for saying something that he shouldn't. He looks around a bit, which is honestly NOT the sort of suspicious behavior one wants to display in a prison, even if he's on the "good guy" side of the glass. "You know, your...your lightning stuff. Is it true that you can do that too?"
Quon snickers at the entire display. The grin, the reaction, and even the sheepish look when he he catches himself saying something he shouldn't bring out an amused look from the Asian college student. He doesn't say anything at first. Choosing to wait a bit before he responds.
"Antoine does lightning. I do fire."
He holds up a single finger before it goes a light with a golden flame. He then quickly extinguishes it before the guards can get up in arms about his use of chi.
Aw, the look of disappointment on Pepe's face! It's like a bright sunny day suddenly interrupted with the thickest possible storm cloud. His lips have pulled into a slight frown, but it's reversed the very instant that freaking /fire/ spawns from seemingly nowhere. Just as he can stare to look at it in wonder, the light is snuffed out! Aw.
The young man's shoulders roll as he attempts to regain his composure, his back straight and one hand leaving the edge of the chair to hold his receiver properly. "Hey, that's cool too! Man...there are just a whole bunch of normal-looking guys out there that can do this sort of stuff, huh?" Only months ago, he thought such feats were limited to the superhero-like folk that show up on TV all the time, not...not people his age. The heavy realization is clear on his face, how his eyes have unfocused a little as if he's staring far behind the guy before him. "...Huh."
Moments later, there's a knock against the wall. "Time's up!" The words snap Pepe out of his haze with a blink and a start! "Oh! Crap. Hey, we're still on, right? You mind if I come by again sometime?" He asks this even as he's standing up, bent slightly over the chair that he's trying to put back in place.
"I'll post bail in a few days. After that, we can finally have our spar." No time is given for an exchange of info as he's already being escorted back into his cell. Chances are, if Antoine told him where he was going to school. They'll bump into each other again at some point.
Log created on 09:34:05 12/23/2010 by Pepe, and last modified on 12:08:59 12/23/2010.