Todoh - But Whatever Happened To That Grudge?

Description: Because clearly, we can't fully wrap up the whole King of Fighters plot until the single most important unanswered thread is at last resolved - in what way has Sagat paid for his arrogance to a certain man some time back? More importantly... who cares? What does this have to do with Cammy, of all people? Maybe it's just time to get on with our lives and not sweat the small stuff any more, like that weird guy washing a rock over there.



Cammy finds herself by the beach. She's not been here for almost an entire year, in fact, that was right after the last brainwashing that she actually remembers, so it's almost like returning to The Beginning for her. An important place, as far as the Doll is concerned.
Especially important as the last time she was here she met Quon in the amusement park just over there a ways, so even more personal history tied up here than merely her first remembered memories. Needless to say, though, these are not really happy memories right now, and so the doll is clearly a bundle of laughs compared to all the others here on the beach, all long faced, serious looking.
And despite the heat clad in a red cloak. As a concession to being on the beach she is barefoot, not that you can really see her feet all that much, just a toe or a heel every so often when she walks. Her boots are safe in a translucent carrier bag, clutched in one hand.

And then suddenly there's a hand sticking out of the sand - let's be honest, right now, the way things are in the world, the beach is actually sort of scary. There's a certain unease in the waves... in the winds... in the clouds. There's something big going down over the horizon, for sure.
Does anyone care? Nah... probably not.
How about that aforementioned hand sticking out of the sand? Yup. I'm sure people would care about that, especially when it suddenly gropes around and pushes down, a meaty elbow and then, all of a sudden, a sand-decorated head of black hair, a headband, and a moustache... er, who is this guy, again?!
"AT LAST!" He calls out, spitting out some sand as he waves a fist victoriously, more or less obstructing Cammy's path. "I've engineered everything to this end! Every! Last! Bit of it! And now I'll make him pay for that insult once and for all!!"
...What's he talking about?

Cammy finds hands sticking out of the sand to be quite fascinating, so when she spies the offending appendage, she finds herself staring at it. Indeed, leaning forward for a better look.
Given what hands are generally for in the fighting world, getting so close probably isn't so much of a good idea. The Doll leaps back when it suddenly comes to life, groping around and pushing down against the sand. Fortunately it didn't smash out towards her nose, or anything.
Then she's blinking at the sand monster, curiosity piqued, to put it mildly. The first question is, of course, "Who are you?". And then she even smiles a little, as fulfilling her Vega-given orders regarding reconaissance make her happy, and now that cheesecake is off the menu there's precious little happiness these days.

"WHO AM I?!" The guy asks, I mean, uh... seriously, who is this man? Does any of this ring a bell? The headband, the moustache... the hakama, now that we're able to see a bit more, the socks, the attitude? The whole appearing inexplicably out of nowhere bit?
It is the ultimate mystery in the coming climax... or not!
He's snorting sand out of his nostrils, little clouds of dust forming from these once stuffed cavities as he hunches over, teeth grinding back and forth with one another.
"You assume /he/ hasn't warned you, hmm?! Of when he got his lips a li'l teensy, itty, bitty, microscopically but WAY TOO FREAKIN' LOOSE?!" A fan is suddenly snapped out of his gi top, opened to show the proudly displayed flag of Japan as he waves himself. "I find that hard to believe and I am a man of hard facts! And beliefs. In that it is a hard fact to believe you do not have any idea whatsoever of who I am or how much trouble you are in! ...And out of, because now you're in this one which is even more trouble BUT I DIGRESS."

Cammy really has no idea. Apparently ((REDACTED)) is not worthy enough of an entry in the Shadaloo databank. Either that, or Cammy skipped that section. She just peers at him, looking even more blank than normal, and then blinks, owlishly.
"It was a simple enough question." she notes, voice flat, not yet annoyed by this guy apparently liking the sound of his own voice a great deal. "Which he are you referring to?" she asks, assuming that maybe this is Lord Vega we're talking about here.
She does back up a little bit at the showing off of Japanese flags, the first time she is literally moved by his actions. That does, after all, usually imply some sort of beatdown at the hands of someone ridiculously skilled. Japan is definitely overrepresented in that department.

The man, whoever that crazy guy is, cracks a(n over?)confident grin as she backs away, as if he believes she is trying to buy her some time to worm her way out of this, oh no, oh no, oh no, no, no, and, of course, no. Especially the no, we should be putting a whole lot of emphasis on that one particular no. No.
"Yeh hah hah!" He cackles as he brings his hands to his hips and throws his head back. "It was me, all along! I did everything, you see! I personally sabotaged the manufacturer of his favorite pair of shorts! I manipulated the world market to drive up the price of that tape he so adorns! And, er, I... I think I did something with that, y'know, eyepatch, buuuuuut, wearen'tgoingintospecifics AND NOW I AM VICTORIOUS!!"
Or is he?
"And there's NOTHING you can do about it now but weep and rue the day your big friend opened his big ugly toothless wheezy mouth!!"

Something is fishy here, not ringing true... Lord Vega does not wear shorts. At least, not that Cammy knows of. Mmmm, eyepatch? Shorts?
"Oh, I see." she replies, even though she doesn't really. "Are you talking about Sagat? What did you do? Drove up the price of shorts?". She shakes her head. "He still has shorts the last time I saw him." she says freely. "And even if you did drive up the price, I'm sure he's rich enough to buy whatever shorts he wants. Probably solid gold shorts, if he really wanted.". A slight pause, and then, ever so polite, she finishes, "You still have me at a disadvantage, mister...?".
A file needs a heading.

All very good counterpoints, in this big picture, as this mysterious man continues to preen himself endlessly over such petty acts of revenge and personal inconvenience to people who have, more or less, not warranted it.
Unless you are him, in which case, pretty much anyone and everyone warrants it, ever.
tThere is an uncomfortable silence that passes as these things are pointed out, logical fallacies and everything until she thinks to ask him his name, at which point he politely responds...
"MISTER PERSON YOU SHOULD BE AFRAID OF LEST YOU'RE REALLY BUSY BEING AFRAID OF SOMETHING ELSE IN WHICH THAT SOMETHING ELSE IS VERY LIKELY ABSOLUTELY POSITIVELY TO BE ME!" Huff, huff, huff. Childishly, he kicks some sand over in Cammy's direction.
"See?! Think of how much of that I'll get on ya if you test me!!"

Cammy looks down at her cloak, now spotted with sand around one leg. She doesn't look too bothered by being dirtied so - she merely looks bemused. "You will have to use chi empowered sand or something, if you want such a maneuver to have a chance of doing anything much. Unless you aim for the eyes, maybe." she tells him, helpfully.
"Maybe I will be afraid of you if you tell me your name." she suggests, in a pitifully transparent attempt at manipulation. "Your, um. Devotion to the art of revenge perhaps makes you interesting, to some..." she says vaguely, thinking maybe it's worth bringing up in her next employee appraisal meeting with the boss. He certainly seems dogged and relentless. If... ineffectual.

"Oh you're gonna get all SMART on me now, are ya, all missy 'oh this won't hurt me unless you do it this way,' huh? HUH?!" The guy, whoever the hell this man is, steps along up close to her, leaning his face ever nearer in a blatant disregard for personal space.
"Some would know /me/ for the art of fighting!" He puffs his chest up as he does, thankfully, give some space a moment later. "My name is... best spelled, written, spoken, and remembered in whatever noises you make when you pee your pants and shivver uncontrollably and otherwise be FULLY INCAPACITATED before me, and... er..."
His posture droops, hanging forward as his voice takes on a much less loud quality, even mumbly, "you're not buying it are you."

Cammy proves to be quite adept at scampering away from him when he draws near. Well, not scampering per se, she is far too dignified for that, but slipping around effortlessly is one of her specialties, and as ((CLASSIFIED)) steps right up to her she just... slips away a few paces.
His outburst is met with simple and seemingly innocent enough curiosity, as she waits for this paragon to actually reveal who the hell he is - and when he droops a bit, she tilts her head. "Umm. I do not know who you are. I did say." she gently reminds. "I am out of habit as far as reviewing NeoLeague matches goes though, so perhaps I merely missed you.".

Let's be honest, when a man crawls out of the sand with next to no warning or clear reason as to /why/, pretty much everyone and anyone will do far more than scampering. In this way, Cammy is far above average from the rest of the crowd.
Nobody is too dignified to avoid having to face this... guy... whoever he is, once in their lifes, sadly.
"THAT'S THE PROBLEM!" He suddenly screams again, before, ultimately, facepalming himself. Or rather, facefanning, his voice especially muffled behind his hand and fan.
"Oh they know who that Mongolian principal is! They know who that purple ninja is! But not ME!! Especially not when I get in their faces, girl!"
Visibly seething to the point of somehow manifesting comical anger lines, the fan is suddenly raised up high, a symbol of the land of the rising sun to an overcast, uneasy, dark red sky...
...and promptly throws it onto the sand, stomping his foot on it.
"What's. It. Going. To. Take?! Do I gotta wash four hundred rocks or something huh?! How the hell do YOU do it?"

"Me?". Cammy looks a bit taken aback. "Do what? You mean, be famous?". She shakes her head sadly. "I don't actually know. See, I don't actually try to be known by anybody, in fact, I'd rather be unrecognised. In fact, that is why I wear the cloak.". She pats at her red clad belly with one hand. "For some reason though it doesn't seem to work anymore, as you jumping out at me shows. Perhaps I will have to try something else, but I have become attached to the cloak." she admits.
Then she eyes him. "This assumes that you actually /do/ know who I am, of course. But judging by how we began this conversation, with you in the sand waiting, it seems a fair assumption to me.".
She shrugs. "If it is fame you seek, perhaps you should try to beat Maki in a street fight, she is the current Neo-League champion, after all.".

"FAMOUS AND FEARED AND RESPECTED AND MADE PRESIDENT OF THE SILVER FLASHLIGHT FAN CLUB!" So says this man who speaks over Cammy's reasonable, logical suggestions about the fast way to fame and fortune and fear and respect and Nutter Butters and excessive use of the word 'and' in a long run-on sentence.
The man of great mystery and intrigue (and need for an elephant tranquilizer) grinds his teeth and huffs loudly as she speaks extremely literally about every little detail.
"Match that broad? Hah! She'll be good enough to take THIS on in... in the next millennium! Or as a millionaire. MARK IT!" He points dramatically... or so he declares. "That's it! I'm turning it all around RIGHT NOW! Y-You just wait and see! Really! I'll do it!"
And so, the man determines to do the impossible, the idea and actions thought impossible for him to, er, the extent anyone at all, ever, would have this man on their mind.
He turns around and walks a short ways towards the ocean... dramatically withdraws a large white cloth, snapping it out wide as a wave of water crashes up against a rock in the distance...
And starts washing a small rock in front of him.

Cammy stays still, and watches quietly while ((CENSORED)) pads off towards the ocean, to begin... fiddling around with rocks? And then - she hesitates. The man seems quite likely to be a lunatic or something based on past actions, and the smart thing to do is probably to take the opportunity to walk away at this point, but unfortunately the Doll is afflicted with a burning curiosity and is already rationalising why the Master might actually be interested in this guy. Juri is sort of a lunatic too and the Master is very interested in her, after all, right?
So despite her better judgment, she pads over to stand next to him, looking down at the rock which he washes. "Why do you wash the rock? The sea will wash it without your help, I think.". Then a pause, to consider. "You are... a very strange man." she says seriously, before things start to take a somewhat bitter turn in her mind. "But I am sure that despite that everybody is all very friendly and helpful and tolerant of your foibles." she notes, flat voice suddenly dripping acid.

"HAH!" The man spits it out as he starts to wave the towel vaguely threateningly in Cammy's direction. "What're you still doin' here, huh?! Why don't ya just... go on 'n do whatever it is you do, right... right. Out. There. In. FRONT!" He hisses out every little word in cryptic manner as he brings the towel back down on that very rock. "You just wait... yeh hah hah! I bet they'll want me so badly they'll get some imposter forger to go write my awesome autobiography EXCEPT NOWHERE NEAR AS GOOD AS MINE, that's what!!"
The waves start to crash rhythmically, maybe a little more violently. Truth be told, it's not going to be a safe place to be around in a short while, if the bizarre weather patterns keep up. There may very well be cheesecake to be eaten elsewhere.

Cammy is about ready for cheesecake as well - sure sounds better than dealing with the local weirdoes. And she /still/ has no idea who the hell this guy is, and it's pretty clear that whatever planet he inhabits it's not the one where questions are answered, or even where information exchange actually happens.
A year ago she might have persisted a little longer, but these days, even her considerable patience seems to get used up quite fast. "I have no idea what you are babbling about." she replies to him irritably, oblivious to any fun and games with the waves. "But you are right, there are better things to do then stand here trying to make sense of it. Staring at walls. Tilting at windmills. Making conversation with Shadaloo Brutes.". She waves a hand dismissively at him, kicks some sand at him herself, and then stalks off, apparently rather angry.

The sand that is sprayed at this man represents something so profound and deep that it cannot be written, which is okay because in the long run, who would read about some grains of sand being dumped on this... person? The only real reaction to this item of spite is a brief shudder and a low grumble as he washes up that rock. The rock that may not seem to need washing or shining, and yet...
Time passes. Mats are laid out among the beach. Dramatic backdrops of Japanese cultural flair surround the site of the old man's rock-cleaning antics. Two men, one in a red baseball cap, another in an orange gi, come together.
"Even at a time like this, eh?" Asks the man in the red baseball cap. "Okay!"
"Can't deny 'em the Dream Match," answers the one in the orange, "so c'mon already."
The old man grumbles. "Ahh! And /he/ gets to have all that fun?! Just wait... just wait until 2001," he says as he works that rock to the utmost, "I'll be back! And then... and then, uh... wait."
This musing goes silent as the two men fight, exceptional displays of skill and ability being worthy of a fight of some note, a grand battle tucked away in the very obscurities of a world optimistic of an existence well after whatever is coming to pass, until the following words suddenly interrupt the fight with their ferocity and volume...
"WHAT YEAR IS IT?!"
...
...
...
...Time flies, doesn't it?

Log created on 16:58:09 08/02/2011 by Todoh, and last modified on 17:08:58 08/04/2011.