Description: An odd letter delivered to one Elias Patrick, the traveling preacher that always seems to try and aid the hopeless and poor, leads him to meet with the mysterious Ash Crimson. To him, an offer is made, but is it one he can accept without hesitance? And just what might be the ulterior motives of Ash? Could he really only be looking for help in the King of Fighters, or is there something more sinister?
Ash Crimson loves Christmas. It's not because of the presents (although he does enjoy receiving gifts, don't get me wrong), but more the sights, the sounds and the extended hours of malls, cafes and restaurants... It's the perfect time of year to be out and about in the cold, because there's so many places to escape to, once he's had enough.
Want to know what Ash loves more than Christmas? The very next day.
The stores are still open late, AND! Oh my god, the /SALES/. They're everywhere! And just about everything is discounted by some ridiculous amount! Ash quite likes spending Shenwoo's hard-earned cash on trivial items of low entertainment value, so he's been around, arms now laden with bags, having reached his final destination: A fairly empty establishment that serves the most delicious after-dinner desserts, patiently waiting in the front lobby to be seated.
Eventually, he's approached by a harassed-looking waitress, who briskly guides him to an empty table and then just simply abandons him there. The Frenchman shrugs, hardly bothered by such abrupt treatment, leaving the bags on the floor next to his chair as he plops down and makes himself comfortable. Slouching, the fair-haired man folds both arms behind his head, then begins to wait anew. For what? Well... Not for the service, ha ha!
The reason why this restaurant was his last stop of the day is due to arranging a meeting with someone. Someone whom he hopes will be the final addition to the team for the King of Fighters tournament. Normally, Ash is an individual who is not often punctual, but today... he's early. The importance of this matter is not lost on the mercurial, social butterfly.
It has been a curious few months over in Metro for a priest and his homless shelter. He isn't quite sure why, but Elias' establishment just seems to be attracting trouble these days. It makes it hard to even get time to go out and run any sort of errands due to him being worried some weirdo will cause trouble while he is gone. If things keep up he is going to have to ask Haggar for some help which is something he does not wish to do. The Mayor is a busy person afterall.
Still the oddness continues though this time perhaps in a good way. A letter was given to him entailing some information about the rather popular King of Fighters tournament and of all people someone had decided Elias would be a good addtion to the team. The name Ash Crimson isn't exactly a familiar one either. How proper of a young man for using the mail these days instead of trying to use email or phones.
With everything seemingly taken care of after a few days prep, the priest is able to set out feeling that the shelter will be fine while he is away for a few days. People have an emergency number to contact him and he has made sure everyone is to be extra careful while he is gone for business in Southtown. If Ash has never actually seen the priest it will be easy to pick him out. Everything he wears is pristine and he doesn't so much look like a nice and humble man like how most people speak of him. He is rather large and sturdy with his hair not having one single gray strand in it despite his advancing years. He is carefully walking through the appointed meeting place as that stern looking face of his scans over the room as he walks with hands clasped behind his back.
Perhaps the ancient method of contact can be explained away by his upbringing: Long before the world acknowledged his existence, before even learning how to throw a punch, Ash was the child of French nobility, through and through. Pampered and spoiled, the early years were spent wallowing in luxury, not the dumbed-down adolescence of most brats. Television and cell phones are very recent discoveries, but computers are beyond his grasp. He is blissfully unaware of this... 'email'.
At least the letter was sent through priority mail? Should've only taken two to three business days to arrive.
With the waitress having not yet returned to the table, Ash surrenders himself to a frightfully strong temptation to fidget while he waits. The flamewielder plucks a stainless steel fork from an origami crane napkin and twirls it around his fingers. He's not very good at this - one good whirl around the slender digits and he drops the item. It clatters on the worn wooden surface of the table, and even falls on the floor. The waitress returns, but in a slimmer, more pleasant form, and she kinda snorts with laughter at him as he holds out the fork to her, "Ahaha, I dropped it. Can I have another?"
Once Ash orders some raspberry tea, the woman is gone, and he is left forkless. Blue eyes linger on the napkin-with-fork on the other side of the table, but that belongs to his guest. Aaaaaaaa~, speaking of that person, where is he? Lazily, the lean fighter scans the restaurant. Maybe it's still early? He doesn't have a watch. As the Frenchman turns towards the back of his chair, entrance in plain sight, he spots the recipient of the invitation. Recognisable only because of his 'investigating' prior to initiating contact, Ash lifts a hand in greeting.
"Bonjour!" Several heads swivel in his direction as he calls out, loud and clear, to Elias, "Glad you could make it!" Believe it or not, he's actually dressed... somewhat normal today. That platinum blonde hair is in its outdated style, but otherwise! The Frenchman is just wearing a pair of slim-fitting jeans, silver silk shirt and black and purple polka-dot tie... Okay, maybe that's not so normal. His ordinary black jacket may be the only thing about him that is.
At least it does not seem like he will be having to wait to meet the man that invited him. Elias seems to be a prompt man because if one had a watch he entered pretty much right on the dot despite the fact he does not seem to be wearing a watch himself. His vestments are cut in a strange fashion in comparison to what other priests wear. For one there are no sleeves so his massive, toned arms are shown off. The back is also cut off as well to reveal it. Quite an odd fashion, but who is going to argue with a priest about such a thing?
His gaze travels over to the waving Frenchman and he stalks forward. He weaves through the crowd and he comes to a stop at the table on the opposite side of Ash. Large hands come to rest on the seat as he pulls it out. "Greetings, child. I take it you are Ash Crimson." It is more of a statement than a question. He seems sure enough of the fact that he is moving to take a seat instead of waiting for an answer first. He sits up straight in the chair and his hands rest in his lap while his shaded gaze stays locked on the smaller man.
"I find it interesting that you would consider an old man as a member for your team." he says and despite the shades covering his eyes that gaze is one that can make some people squirm just from feeling the priest's eyes upon them since it feels like he is almost staring right into their soul at times as he tries to judge people he comes across. Oh yes, Ash is being scrutinized quite a bit now as Elias tries to figures out what the man's motives may be. "Care to explain why exactly?"
It's a good thing that Ash knows absolutely nothing about religion, otherwise he might be offended. ... Can you imagine Crimson as a Catholic? Brrrr.
Once his wave is acknowledged via the priest's approach, Ash corrects his seated position. He laces his fingers together neatly and sets them atop the wooden table; the Frenchman's nails are painted an alternating red and green today. Clearly he was feeling a bit festive. "Monsieur Elias, c'est un plaisir." It's a bit odd to be called a 'child', considering he's an adult, but his guest is Ash's senior, so the flamewielder lets that slide. Their obvious age difference is also noted by Elias himself, and the flamboyant fighter smiles pleasantly.
"Saa~" He says, the thoughtful word drawn out. Ash's head cants to the side, long fringe of hair drifting away from his freckled face, "I've never really been one to judge another based on something so trivial as 'age'," The younger man laughs, "As long as you can fight, then what does it matter?" Although he did berate Megane for being out of bed, but that has absolutely nothing to do with anything!
Reaching into an inner pocket of his black jacket suddenly, the flamewielder withdraws an envelope, red seal broken on the back. He places it on the tabletop, index finger pressing down on the white paper, "Now," Ash says, "Shall we eat first, or would you rather discuss my invitation? I'm fairly certain it came rather unexpected." If his assumptions are correct, then Elias has likely never even heard of the King of Fighters tournament before the letter. Just what the Frenchman was looking for...
A hand raises and the priest gives a nod as he reaches for the envelope that is slid towards him. Sure he has heard of the tournament before. It always seems to be a bit of a big thing. The priest on the otherhand had never considered being a participant in such things. He was sort of in prison during most of the competitions anyways so there was never a real chance for him to even consider being in one. Not to mention now he has the shelter to look after so it makes traveling a bit of a pain at times.
"Pardon me if I do not wish to eat." he replies as pulls out the contents from the envelope to give things a glance over. Or more so it looks like he is carefully looking everything over and if anything at least his gaze moves away from Ash for awhile so he can read. "I must admit I have had some problems as of late and I am rather apprehensive to a random invite." Of course Ash seems harmless, but so did the disguised Rolento when he came by offering to help the shelter. That did not end well at all.
He is at least willing to listen for now it would seem. The fact he accepted the invitation to fly all the way across the country to come to Southtown from Metro to meet Ash in person says something about the priest having some interest. "There are usually groups so I am curious who else you have in mind since they do not seem to be here."
Heard of? Okay, fine. That is still acceptable, because Elias is enough of an unknown that it suits his plans regardless. Ash prefers teammates who lack considerable influence, who are more likely to pursue their own agendas and not interfere with his. Elisabeth, childhood friend and noblewoman, doesn't quite fit the mold, but keeping her close and knowing what she's up to makes it easier to escape her watchful eye. Ash nods as the offer of food is declined - he'll be eating, himself. Probably dessert, because it's so very delicious.
"Ahaha, I can be a bit... spontaneous, I suppose? I think anyone in your position would be apprehensive," If there is a distinct difference between the Frenchman and Rolento, it's that Ash not only projects the image of a non-threatening entity, but he wants absolutely nothing to do with another's personal affairs. His lack of interest shows. "Consider this an opportunity. Winning the King of Fighters tournament guarantees a cash prize - I made sure to gather some information before contacting you, hope you don't mind." Hand retracting from the invitational letter, it drifts to his fine hair, lazily toying with the blonde strands.
At the mention of the 'group', Ash's expression flattens somewhat. He uses a knuckle to massage his temple, "I meant to bring Elisabeth Blanctorche with me, but she had other matters to attend to. Shenwoo..." The Frenchman trails off, exhaling with exasperation, "He's the type of person who'd rather talk with his fists, ha ha ha. My friend is a very simple like that." The brawler's love of violence is obviously why he was not invited. "You'll meet them, of course."
By 'meet', Ash means that Shen will probably try and punch the newcomer. Siiiiiigh. Thank god Betty isn't so uncivilized.
The contents are read over and then placed back in the envelope after a few prolonged moments of silence as he listens. Both names sound somewhat familiar, but that is about it. Just something he has heard in passing and nothing more. He certainly hasn't seen any of them in action and Elias himself would be hard to find much on in terms of seeing his fighting prowess. A rather crazy fight where he teamed with Rock is the on real footage available afterall.
"As long as it did not cause harm your ways of finding out about me do not matter." Elias didn't have to punch someone in the face so it must have been a harmless investigation to say the least. He may come off much more civilized than Shenwoo, but it would seems they have similar ways of dealing with things they don't like. Of course while they both enjoy punching it would seem Elias is at least a bit more subtle about it all in the long run.
He does order himself something when the waitress comes by. A red wine that he usually prefers to indulge in every so often when away from the shelter. After doing so his attention returns to Ash once again and he lets those massive hands rest on the table and fingers steeple slightly. "So then. What exactly should I know?"
Well, no. It certainly didn't cause harm to anyone, as far as Ash is aware. He merely viewed various fights, asked around, got some information through the 'network' - it's mostly composed of rabid fight fans, eager to share every tidbit, along with some personal opinion. The Frenchman ceases in massaging his temple, resuming the twirling of his hair around slender fingers. For now, the envelope is left on the table between them, apparently forgotten.
With a genuine smile, the flamewielder leans back in his chair, folding his not currently preoccupied arm across his thin chest, "I think the question would be more, 'what do you want to know'." His blue eyes half-lidded, Ash's gaze is focused on Elias. He doesn't even noticed the raspberry tea that's set down in front of him, waitress off to retrieve the second drink, "In your case, if we win, I doubt that any of us would protest donating the money to your orphanage."
"Of course, that doesn't give you much incentive now, does it? What if we lose?" Rolling his shoulders in a casual shrug, Ash giggles softly, "I thought of that, in case you're wondering. Elisabeth and myself, we are, ah, French nobility. If you help us, then we will help you." He hates talking about his past more than anything, but just once, the flamewielder is silently thankful for his inheritance.
Spotting his tea, Ash takes the cup and lifts it to his lips. He sips the contents, approving of the delightful flavour with an 'Mmmm!' What should he order for dessert? Do they have sachertorte here? He forgot to ask for a menu. Drat!
A donation to his shelter isn't normally a bad thing. In this case at least. This is no person randomly coming into his shelter and just dropping it off. Any prize money here he would actually have to earn as part of a team. It s an interesting offer that priest mulls over even as that same usual emotionless face doesn't even flinch and that gaze just remains as if he is staring a hole in the Frenchman. He is only mildly distracted when the server returns with his wine and he thanks her as he picks up the glass and swishes the contents about.
"I would like to know as much as there is available to me. You must understand a fighter I may be, but it is only secondary to being a servant of God." he finally says before taking a slow draw from his glass. He sets it back down and seems to nod in approval before his attention shifts back to Ash. "I feel like I should at least know your intentions even if they are simple as something. The want to just be in it and put up a good fight works for me, but I ask for an honest answer."
He at least seems to be allowing things to remain somewhat vague, but also doesn't seem to be much for one to try and drag out details in a painstaking manner. He just looks for a way to get some answers to settle the unease of being offered a random invitation to join a group of people he does not know and hasn't even met for the most part aside from what seems like the group's leader.
Considering what outwardly appears to be a penetrating stare, Ash is extremely comfortable in the face of, even jovial. Why should he be bothered? The company the Francophone keeps far exceeds the oddity of Elias, and he can accept this man's idiosyncrasies, as he has done countless times before. Keep staring, if you wish. He takes another delighted sip of his tea, sighing with satisfaction, starting when the waitress returns with his companion's order.
"Ah, cherie!" She raises an eyebrow at him, "Do you have any sachertorte?" A blank stare meets this request; Ash is crestfallen, "How about some strawberry ice cream and cheesecake?" Since his second order is far more common and understandable, the server smiles and leaves to accomodate his sweet tooth. He frowns briefly, but recovers to acknowledge Elias with an interested gaze. A servant of God?
Pursing thin lips together, Ash appears to be thoughtfully piecing together his answer. What is truly happening are numerous observations of Elias: Something must have happened recently, something that broke his trust and has made him far more wary of the unknown. The Frenchman figured earlier that it was just slight apprehension, easily dealt with, but now understands how deep the mistrust goes... Unfortunately, he cannot reveal his true intentions. No soul on this Earth can know what he plans to do, lest they try and interfere.
The young fighter smiles and his head cants to the side, finally. Blue eyes vanish behind pale lids as he closes them; the Frenchman much prefers those who do not ask questions. "You have put it so eloquently that I might not capture such meaning rephrasing it, Monsieur Elias." Lying with practiced ease and calm, Ash continues, "I fight because I find joy in the results, the proof of my abilities. I am here for a good time, and in order to participate, a team is needed."
He pauses there, wondering if Elias would like to hear the motivations for the others? Hopefully not... And let us hope that Ash is believed - he'll be looking for a teammate again otherwise, and that is bothersome.
The priest sips on his wine, but remains sitting up straight as he remains silent to listen. He is pondering many things as to what might be truely going on. Part of him believes that the Frechman really just wishes to show off his skills. There are several fighters like that. It is also hard to sense any possible evil within the man. Usually Elias has a good knack for recognizing those sort of things. Perhaps it was slipping at his old age given Rolento did manage to get a drop on him.
The wine is finished off and the glass gently set down. "Very well. If that is the case I will join with the intent on using my share of whatever prize money we may get to go towards my shelters." A second one will be opening soon and while Elias has a fair amount of money it is nice to get additional funds on the side from places that he didn't expected. he slowly rises from the table and one of the hands pulls away to reveal money that makes one wonder where the priest was even keeping it. he didn't pull out a wallet or the like afterall.
"Is that all you are in need of today, my son?" he asks while letting his hands once again clasp behind his back. "I must travel towards Sunshine City soon. I am opening a shelter there as part of their restoration project." he explains On top of the money also seems to be a card with a number scrawled on it. "If I am needed you can reach me through that number."
With a slight, girlish laugh, Ash says, "Monsieur Elias, consider our winnings a thank you for your participation. There are no 'shares'. None of us are in need, like your shelter." He sets his cup down, using a finger to cushion the noise, before rising as the priest does, "I appreciate you coming all this way." And this meeting has ended perfectly. The Frenchman does not need to waste more of his precious time; their entry is assured.
Lifting the card and invitational envelope, Ash tucks both items away into an inner jacket pocket, still draped haphazardly across the back of his chair. He then steps around the wooden table, movements casually graceful, offering his hand for one of those MANLY MAN shakes... that don't really suit the flamewielder at all, "I will be in touch with you as soon as there's more details to share." About the tournament, that is.
Curiosity piqued at the mention of Sunshine City and their restoration project, it is not lasting. The waitress returns to collect the 'magician' man's money, bringing with her the ordered dessert (which is actually the Frenchman's dinner, ew), and he is quite thoroughly distracted! As soon as Elias returns the handshake, Ash'll be sitting down again without a second thought, and totally sinking his teeth into what looks like some fabulous cheesecake. Omm nomm nomm.
The hand of the priest comes around to grip Ash's much smaller one. If anything the man seems to have considerable strength with the kind of pressure he puts on the shake. It isn't to harm, but a firm one that a man of his stature is just used to giving. "I will be interested in meeting the other members when there is time." he comments and lets that hand go and lets his own clasp behind his back again. He gives a nod to the waitress in thanks for her service and he says no more while allowing to go to his dessert.
Elias himself just turns about and heads for the exit, weaving through the crowd to disappear once more. He has questions he might need to investigate on somewhat. Perhaps by speaking with the associates of Ash when the Frenchman doesn't know about it. As nice as the man seems the priest still feels things just seem like they are going along too easily. He has been around the world and lived long enough that things rarely go that way which is why his hesitation is still there. For now he has a team. It looks like he will have to step up on his training now.
Log created on 19:29:53 12/26/2010 by Ash, and last modified on 02:44:17 01/10/2011.