Description: Old friends Vanessa and Alma catch up with each other in the lobby of the YFCC, and discuss the weighty matters of life, the universe, and how many times Alma intends to get his ass blown up.
Once again, he alone in the lobby; once again, it feels like home.
In such an idle moment, even the poised Alma Towazu can be conspicuously inelegant. He spins idly in the comfortable chair at the center of the vast lobby, regarding its carpet and tile, the couches upon which so many wandering youths have spent time. The place is hardly cavernous, and the open glass windows expose most of the lobby to outside view, yet still, it is a large room for one man to relax in alone. Still, Alma's mild smile and dreamy gaze suggests he finds the experience altogether pleasant. This place--
"Hmm hm hmmm..."
It is the manifestation of his vision.
"...hmmm hmm hmmm..."
Every time it has collapsed, it has arisen again.
The recent donation from Ken Masters has gotten Alma contemplating his priorities quite a bit -- yes, even moreso than usual. Having concluded that he will continue his leave of absence from full leadership of the YFCC at least until the King of Fighters tournament begins, knowing there is still much more he wants to experience as a wanderer and feeling revitalized by the past month, the Scarred Beauty of Southtown still cannot resist ambition. That is to say, he is a man who must make the private public, and the personal political, in the broadest sense: the urgency of his beliefs demands an ever-present justification. A man who takes such a drive to its limit becomes his own worst enemy, and so did Alma see in Seishirou Ryouhara his own darker reflection: not an evil man, per se, or one maddened by power, but one who in seeing how intertwined self and world are sought to make his world into himself.
And perhaps seeking to realize his ideals had, indeed, been Alma's effort to make the world more like himself, more like the world of a man who sees the souls of others as dancing color -- a better place, he assumed, remembering only the darkness of his life beforehand. He is more cautious of that conclusion now, and in an odd sense -- for he was always accepting of and interested in vibrant and diverse spirits -- more tolerant. More tolerant of the uncertainty underlying his own. More tolerant of not having a destiny. Yet that cannot change what he believes to be fundamental truth. This city /is/ a part of him; he is a part of the city. If he has this power, he should use it to aid those in despair. If he can lead the YFCC, and shine light into the darker parts of the world, he will -- he must.
Alma Towazu has a new plan for this money, for this organization.
But it is a small plan.
"...hmmm hmm hmm..."
A small plan, that will make him and others happy.
That tune, what was it?
~ Oh... right... ~
Jiro used to play it on his harmonica.
Vanessa, the ever-enigmatic boxing fighter, is always hard to track down. In more ways than one, really - her whereabouts can never be certain, her emotions and thoughts a difficult cipher to crack. It extends even to her style - a highly technical boxing technique, relying heavily on confusing the opponent as to what's going to happen next...and for the uninitiated, even in what a boxer is capable of.
What we are saying is that nobody is entirely certain when Vanessa is going to show up, why, in what manner, or how many hearts she's broken in the process.
Today, however, it is a fairly vanilla entry. Vanessa's always liked the YFCC, always taken care to keep what she can of her private turmoils off its doorstep; for reasons she's never made entirely clear, she approves and supports the endeavor.
With Alma busy twirling and internally monologuing, perhaps he doesn't notice the redhead in the nice olive suit wandering up to the doors and setting black gloves against the glass, grinning a bit to herself before pushing her way in, hands finding their way to the pockets of her slacks.
"Oi, Alma," she chirps, with a smirk, raising her fingers in a lazy open-palmed wave. "Haven't seen you since you blew up. Good to see they can't keep you down."
Alma is caught in mid-twirl, so absorbed in the comforts of the YFCC's persistent good vibes that he only notices a familiar aura approaching the moment Vanessa's hand is placed against the door. He flashes a smile at the woman as she speaks, but though he parts his lips to speak, he appears vaguely flustered as the chair keeps turning, rotating him away from her. One full rotation later, he taps the ground with his foot and stops himself, his grin now a bit embarrassed.
The burn scarring on the once-beautiful young man's face has done nothing to damage its fine and delicate structure, but his appearance remains shocking. Nevertheless, what might otherwise be grosteque is mitigated somewhat by Alma's still-striking self-possession, even in such decidedly less poised moments. "Vanessa-san," he greets her fondly. He has known her for quite a while now, since long before the YFCC was even an idea, and though their acquaintance has been distant, she was one of the first people he ever revealed the depths of his feelings to. She is someone he will always respect, even if he senses that, despite how much she has shared, there is plenty he does not know about her. "It's a pleasure to see you again, as always." His grin wides at her last comment. "Well," he continues, leaning on the chair's arm for a moment, "they kept me down for a little bit. But I got back up."
He rises to his feet then, slipping a hand in his pocket as he approaches her. Grin reducing to a mild, pleasant smile, the scarred beauty places his palm on a supporting pillar and leans against it idly. "I won't return to full duty for a little while longer, but I have a little plan to... celebrate my return." His eyes glitter with good humor through his newly regrown, ruby-tinged bangs. "Ken Masters and I had a chance encounter and a public match, which did wonders for both of us returning to the fighting world. He's making a big donation to our cause."
He pauses for a moment.
"I'm thinking of running another charity tournament. A small one. Much less ambitious than the last." The last, where he had a bomb implanted inside him and then got tossed off the side of an airship, and blew up the building -- again. "For the outer parts of Southtown that haven't fully recovered."
Vanessa really /hasn't/ seen Alma since he blew up, and the new features catch her eye. She's always had that sharp expression, always looking and catching little details. She fights relaxed, but she's smarter than she lets on. Then again, the woman does like to keep her secrets...
Still, once she's done being surprised by Alma's new look, Vanessa's hand settles into her pocket, her body slumping into that easy, casual stance. She looks like she's at home wherever her feet take her. That's never really changed about her. "We'll count that," Vanessa offers, as to Alma's getting back up.
She cocks an eyebrow, watches him rise - watches him lean. Not strong enough, or -- no, just casual. Hm, well, it is his castle, after all. In a manner of speaking.
"Masters? Big name," Vanessa offers, sliding across the gap and eventually setting herself on the edge of the big desk, gloved fingers clutching the edge and twisting her body to face the scarred one. "That'll help a lot," Vanessa says. It's a useless, obvious statement, but Vanessa's not the type to be brusk. She grins.
"Well, that last one was kind of a party," Vanessa muses, raising one arm and flipping the wrist in a sort of not-quite-dismissal of the whole fiasco with the ending. "I don't blame ya for not wanting to get quite that rowdy this time. Can't say you'll have a lot of takers, with whatever Chizuru's got cookin', but it's a worthy cause."
There's something about Vanessa sitting on your desk that makes a man happy. For a moment, Alma feels something that Rugal Bernstein must feel all the time.
...Well, maybe not exactly.
He nods slowly at the boxer's comment. It's clearly something he's considered. "King of Fighters does loom in the distance," he agrees. "There's a risk in that. But I expect that it's precisely because of King of Fighters that some fighters who have gone underground for some time, or at least fallen out of public view, have been stirring." He pauses, reaching up to run a hand through his newly regrown hair as he contemplates his words, his eyes narrowing faintly.
"On my travels through Europe," he continues after a moment, looking up at his friend, "on my way from Taizhou back to Japan, I encountered a number of fighters I had not seen in quite some time. They all seem to be preparing themselves for the upcoming tournament. But not everyone had yet formed their teams; in fact, most of them were still considering. That was only a few weeks ago. I suspect that those who are still uncertain would be drawn to a single-entry tournament, not only to showcase and test their abilities but to find other potential teammates. Perhaps I could even say so openly, rather than being subtle about it."
He then smiles for a moment.
"Well," he adds, "I was of aid to Kagura Enterprises in the recent attack. Maybe I could attempt to meet with Kagura-san herself or one of her subordinates to discuss the possibilities, or at least to ensure I'm not treading on their toes."
His strategy revealed, he lowers his hand and looks back to Vanessa, managing not to stare too much at her idle, easy posture. Boy, it's rough being a psychic sometimes. Both first and second sight look so good.
"And will you, Vanessa-san, be participating in KoF?"
"If you want," Vanessa offers with a shrug. "Haven't been able to get in touch with Chizuru, m'self." Well, they were on a team together once. "Not that /that's/ news, I swear that woman only picks up the phone if she's callin' ya..."
Shrug! "Well, she wants to make me do it the hard way, that's fine by me," Vanessa laughs. No excess motion. It's strange, to see someone so at ease with such a well-trained technique; even now, it's like she could glide across the room and switch easily to a fight. She's just like that; someone who's ready even at her easiest. Fighting came natural to her, once she picked it up. Funny, that.
"Sounds like pretty good logic," Vanessa says. "If I hadn't had some contacts, I'd be in the same boat," she nods.
Vanessa tips her head to one side, easily. "Sure am. Got Ladies' Team put back together and everything, no thanks to Chizuru bugging off. Still gotta go track down the newbie and give her a proper thras---" Ahem! "Introduction, but we're pretty set."
Alma grins. That's right. The last time he was in the same room with Chizuru and Vanessa, he was serving them and Rose-sensei tea. The odd man out of the Ladies Team, as it were. Well, maybe if they had needed four members that year...
"Yeah, I hear you," he replies, his tone unusually casual. It's not merely that he's relaxed around Vanessa; he's always been open around her, and anyway, if anything young men are hardly relaxed around Vanessa. Alma seems to have changed a bit, and while the scars aren't the substance of that change, they too might have something to do with it. Though the Thrice-Born Hero is, of course, chronically reflective, he may not yet be fully aware as to how, subtly but surely, he has begun to feel comforting presenting himself differently to others.
The burden of the world is no longer on his shoulders.
"One of her assistants has been publically active these days," he adds, "or so I've heard: Reiji Oogami. I may seek him out, if I'm unable to gain access to Kagura-san herself."
He smiles again at her answer in the affirmative. "I'm glad to hear it," he murmurs. "It'll be good to see you in action again. I'm still uncertain as to my own plans." He'll have to confront Einherjar sooner or later, but he may not have explained the airship to Vanessa last time, and it may not be worth going through the contortions now, depending on how that meeting goes. As when Alma returned to the YFCC, he has a feeling he'll not be certain until the last moment what his path will be regarding the Initiative; he suspects Frei has similar doubts now. Yet-- he will be certain, at some point. He knows that, if nothing else: when he makes his decision, it will be with the fullest conviction.
Her last comment makes him curious, to be sure.
"Who is your new member?" he asks, tilting his head slightly. "And-- how is Rose-sensei, by the way? I haven't seen her yet, though I've... heard she's around."
Traces of her still linger.
Ladies Team, and their lady-like +1. Vanessa takes Alma in with her eyes. He's changed, she thinks. Growing up. He didn't really have a choice, did he? The world keeps forcing itself down his throat...
Well, she thinks, it's good someone is building a better tomorrow so openly. Vanessa was never one for open work, but it's something she knows well is deeply needed.
"Oogami?" Vanessa frowns. "Don't know 'im. Sure, not a bad lead," she confirms. She seems like the type to be restless and jittery, but she sits there, gloved fingers slowly sliding along the wood of the desk, otherwise remaining carefully still. She long ago learned to control those impulses. "As if I know what /mine/ are," Vanessa laughs. "You really think I've got plans? I make this up as I go."
She grunts, and answers the easy question first: "Rose is Rose," she says, informal as ever. Shrug! "Always keeps her cards close to her vest. Not even I know what she's thinkin', most times. She got that Chun-li dame to back us up, though, which was a way bigger contact than I thought she had on hand." Vanessa laughs, then, teasing to nobody, "I guess that makes me the lively one, huh? Sure not those two."
"But no, the new kid's some student. Miiiiiu? I want to say? I don't remember, those Japanese names throw me off."
Sometimes, Rose even keeps her cards /in/ her vest.
"Ch... Chun-Li?" Alma is impressed too, blinking once. But he smiles at once at her quip, nodding slowly as his gaze flickers down. His close encounter with Chun-Li in Estonia, whom he had before only known from her general fame and Xiangfei's admiration, had not gone well for him. Her strength is magnificent, as mighty even as Rose-sensei. But her personality, well... "Well, Rose-sensei can have a sense of humor, at least," he offers, as though in comfort. In the sense that she's so mysterious that sometimes it can seem as though she's laughing at you. Or rather that she's laughing with you, but you're not laughing.
After a moment, he slumps slightly against the pilar, his smile growing into a grin.
"That does sound somewhat stifling."
His brow quirkly slightly at that name. Miu. He may have met a girl by that name before, but it was a long time ago. A couple faces come to mind. If he met her, though, he might recognize her. "Well, I'll keep my eye out for her," he murmurs. "If she's on the Ladies Team, she must have real potential."
Even as he speaks in seriousness, Alma continues to grin. Just being in Vanessa's presence is revivifying, particularly for an empath. Though his idle thought in the lobby has, of course, been relaxing, it is only now as though he feels the last few days have either involved intense strategizing or furious combat. To relax both body and mind simultaneously is almost a novelty -- at least, to do so with another person.
Maybe, when he goes to travel again, he should bring a friend.
"Vanessa," he says gently, still smiling as his eyes soften, "We don't have to talk here. Why don't you let me treat you to dinner? I'd like to take it easy tonight. It's been a while."
And with the stuffiness of her teammates, well--
Alma's at least slightly better company.
Vanessa laughs at Alma's reaction. "I know, surprised me too!" she says. "Not the part where she's a complete sourpuss, but the fact that she was there? Yeah, seriously." She grins again. Ladies' Team. Rose, Vanessa, Chun-Li, and ...well, anyone. That's one scary team. "Well, she didn't chew me out for drinkin' at the meeting, I guess she won't be a /big/ problem."
"Cool," Vanessa confirms, eyebrows lifting. "Yeah, Rose asked me to go swing down and give her a proper Ladies' Team intro. I'm not sure if she realizes yet that that means I'm gonna jump her in the streets." She laughs, teasing. "Well, it's King of Fighters, not Jinchuu, so I won't do it unannounced, at least."
Vanessa's a very vivid kind of woman, and no mistake; even when she fakes propriety with that tearaway jacket, she flaunts the rules unless she has a very good reason not to. And Heidern hasn't put her head through any jukeboxes in a while, so maybe not even then. Of course, Alma has little way to know the way Vanessa approaches things - with that singular zeal, that unbridled hate for one man and all his works that drove her to rise from an analyst to a frontline boxing agent. Or the handful of things she still viciously protects.
There are secrets Vanessa does not speak of, for she knows that there are ears everywhere, and only a secret unspoken is safe.
"Hm," Vanessa muses. "That sounds nice," she decides, grinning. She doesn't have anywhere to be for /days/, after all. She shoves off the desk, almost gliding to her feet. "I'm good at taking it easy," Vanessa supplies, offering a sly grin. "Got anything special in mind?"
Alma looks at first briefly baffled, and then faintly embarrassed.
"You fooled me for a moment there," he admits.
Jumping Miu in the streets-- he wouldn't put it past her.
"...Yeah."
The world of fighters is chaotic and unruly. One becomes accustomed to challenges at any moment, violence at the drop of a hat. The whole world is an audience, ready and willing to watch when a brawl breaks out, and no one will think twice if you seek to participate. 'Jumping' someone-- in his own way, Alma has done plenty of that, challenging random opponents left and right as though it were the same as asking them to tea. But--
"Thank goodness... for that."
It's not Jinchuu. It's not the Invasion.
Alma's voice is calm and quiet, but for the first moment since Vanessa has arrived, the young man's scarred face is grave, his smile faded.
It's not life or death.
The Radiant Angel never means to keep secrets. If anything, he is something of an over-sharer. But he only seeks to present himself when-- circumstances are amenable, when sincerity can be communicated. He has not yet spoken of what transpired in Taizhou, not even to those with whom he experienced it. He has not yet said much of Jiro's death. Alma speaks easily of important things, but-- perhaps not the most important things. Not the hardest things.
What he speaks of only sounds hard, by comparison.
Humbled by this thought, he smiles again.
"I'm glad," he replies at her assent. Whatever brought him down for a moment there, he seems to have shed it like rain. "Actually," he continues, composed enough to maintain an even tone while a flush begins to creep up his neck -- really, Vanessa-san, you shouldn't grin at him like that -- "I've recently been exploring one of the newly renovated neighborhoods in Inner Sunshine, and I saw that the Noise Factory is having a jazz night tonight." Inner Sunshine: the more accessible area of Sunshine City, one of Southtown's oft-forgotten suburbs, now reachable by light rail. For once, the kids are heading there these days, and not out of there into Southtown. "There's a Peruvian restaurant that just opened nearby with a popular ceviche I've been meaning to try. I can't pretend to be familiar with the music," he admits, "but perhaps, as an American, you might be interested...?" Jazz is quite popular in Japan, actually, but Alma doesn't listen to much music. A trend that, perhaps, he might rectify.
Vanessa can laugh and jeer about Jinchuu now - because she didn't know Jiro, didn't know anyone who truly suffered in that place. But she was there, fighting for her life along with the rest, even if she took it in her usual laughing stride, and walked out with a sense of...something. Some sense of the importance of living, if not the importance of Seishirou Ryouhara's ridiculous ambitions.
She sees that expression, and her own mouth ticks down, shaking her head. "...sorry," she says, quietly - a certain sincerity there. "I didn't..." ...she lets it lie, just shaking her head again. He moves on; so does she. Adults do that.
"Oh /really/?" Vanessa hums, hands finding her pockets, sauntering away with full expectation Alma will follow - or catch up and lead. "That sounds /fabulous/," she decides. "I could do with some decent jazz." ... "I wonder if Japan actually has decent jazz? Well, if it's anywhere, it's gonna be Southtown..."
It was a shame Alma did not have the opportunity to encounter Vanessa during those tribulations. On the other hand, perhaps he is happier with her not having seen him then, feeble and tortured as he was. Better for her to see him at his best. Not merely out of a young man's hopeful pride -- no, because she has always given so much in his presence as well. She makes it all look so easy, but--
"I'm glad."
He has a sense that her good cheer is a kind of survival instinct.
"I'll be happy for the company."
One acquired through suffering, not in spite of it.
She turns away, talking half to herself, and for a moment Alma simply watches her go, the scarred beauty's gaze lingering on her movements. To think that in his still-short life, despite how much he has experienced and endured, he has had the opportunity to meet people such as this. It has felt these past weeks as though the world is much fuller than even he ever imagined. Not because Alma had never before appreciated the diversity in his environment, but because he strove always for commonality, appreciating all differences from the perspective of how they might be united by whatever universals underlied them.
Surely Vanessa's words, her actions, her very poise are intelligible to him because they do share, in some important respect, the same drives, the same human condition. It is not as though Alma has ceased to believe this. But he no longer sees the path of reducing the complex to the simple, or transforming the private into the public, as a necessary component of the salvation he has sought to earn and to dispense. Though he does not look from afar -- though he feels deeply as though Vanessa is his friend -- it is only in this moment that he marvels at how different from him she is, and that still, somehow, they have accepted one another.
Still, they will be allies tonight.
It's a rather dramatic way to look at hanging out, but--
"...Oh."
That's how Alma's always been.
Startled from his reverie as Vanessa, continuing to speak, almost reaches the door, Alma hurriedly grabs his coat and moves to follow, a smile growing at once.
"Well," he replies as he catches up, "there's only one way to find out."
Log created on 18:58:09 12/26/2010 by Vanessa, and last modified on 00:48:54 12/29/2010.