Description:
Cammy has decided that she rather likes the Rangoon drinking pit that the other Delta Red commandoes have been using as their personal watering hole this last couple of weeks. All the sadder, really, as she's heard that the military presence in this country will be drawing to an end soon - the war is over now after all and this was only a little sideshow in it at the end of the day.
So she's a little sad, settled at one of the wooden tables with a couple of her sort-of friends, or at least comrades, a glass of whiskey close to one hand. Mostly untouched. She's still getting used to the whiskey thing. On the other hand she's a lot more at ease with herself than she was the last time Guile saw her, chatting amiably with the others rather than being the odd one out.
The bar of the said pit in Rangoon does indeed possess a door. That door opens up and remains open for a few moments. After the short time passes, an almost unrecognizable William Guile walks in, letting the door close behind him. His hawk-like blue eyes scan the patrons of the bar, stopping on Cammy as he notes her presence here.
He looks at the other Delta Red commandos there, and then walks towards them. He hangs a self-assured grin on his face and announces loud enough for the small group of Spec-Ops people to hear, "Well, they really do let everyone in here, huh?"
Cammy glances up at Guile, and blinks her blue eyes at him, a little confused. Sure, he looks very different, though she can recognise him easily enough when she realises just who it is. But more than that, there seems to be something about his manner in some indefinable sense. "Captain? What did you do to your hair???" she asks, a little shocked. She has since learned that Guile's flat top is the pride of the Air Force after all.
The other commandoes were staring at Guile a little nonplussed by the challenge, expecting claret to be imminent perhaps, but when they hear Cammy identify him they become all smiles instead. Cammy, for her part, is fingering at one of her braids now. Perhaps wondering if MI6 will demand she gets rid of them for an undercover mission or something. The horror, the horror.
Guile's eyebrow shoots up a notch and his grin is persistant, "My hair? Different, huh?" He chuckles as he bellies up to the bar, "I'm off-duty and out of uniform. If I used the amount of hairspray I'd need to keep my hair up and out of the way seven days a week, twenty-four hours a day, I'd have no hair left."
He tracks down the bartender, gesturing him over when he frees up. Guile leans forward, sliding a native note of legal tender his way, "You got Budweiser, son?" Guile looks as non-plussed as the Delta Red boys when the bartender shakes his head. Guile considers it for a moment and nods, "Oh, I see. Well bring me whatever piss-warm pilsner you got in the bucket." He turns back towards Cammy and the boys, "So what are y'all up to? Just enjoying a night out in Rangoon?"
"Pretty much. Most of us are heading out of here in a week." one of the commandoes replies to Guile, as Cammy gets up and ambles over to him at the bar. "I'm not, necessarily." she adds. "Delta Red have some unfinished business here, not really military in nature, though.". She is staring at his hair.
"Somehow I thought you'd have that haircut all the time, I hear it's quite infamous in the American armed forces after all." she observes thoughtfully. "And the selection of drinks here is a trifle limited. I don't think Myanmar is exactly a drinking country unfortunately. I've already got a list of pubs in London I have been practically ordered to attend though. Perhaps one day we'll happen across you there, and you can have some real beer...".
With a nod of his head, Guile replies, "Me too. I caught an assignment to fly a C-130 back to the states. Free ride and flight hours. Can't beat that." He seems to get an idea at this point, "Y'know, my flight plan takes me through Great Britain and you folks seem alright company. Why don't you fly back with me?" He gestures over his shoulder towards one of the other Delta Red commandos, "There won't be a weight and balance issue if he stops snacking right now."
He peers towards Cammy out of the corner of his eye as she observes his hair, "It's impractical to keep a flattop 24/7, pride of the US Armed Forces or otherwise. I've always got a can on hand anyway." He angles towards Cammy, reaching up to pull his jacket to the side. Sure enough, in the left chest pocket, a can of Aussie Instant Freeze hair spray. He drops his jacket back in front of him. He nods his head as his 'beer' arrives, taking a sip and looking for all the while as if it went down just as the piss warm pilsner he ordered should.
"Mmm, well, I would have to ask." Cammy replies to Guile regarding getting a lift, a little doubtfully. She's apparently quite by the book at times! "I suppose the CO wouldn't mind though. It depends though, I might be staying here for longer than you are, I have that unfinished business to deal with after all.".
She merely nods at the practicality of hair. "I see, Captain." she says politely, the pigtailed one not really seeing at all. "I suppose you'd have to respray it every morning, I don't rebraid my hair every day, far from it." she confides. "You don't like the beer?" she wonders. "I was told it was quite acceptable here.".
With a smirk, Guile nods his head and says, "Sure. Ask away. Let me know who is comin' and how much they weigh. We'll have a layover in Italy and Germany, and you know what that means." He looks up towards Cammy, an eyebrow raised a quarter of an inch, "You do know what that means, don't you?"
He chuckles, looking down to the beer and shrugs, "Well, yeah. Every morning. When I'm not going to be in front of a lot of people, out of uniform, or if I'm not trying to draw much attention to myself, this is what you get. I have to respike it every morning, after I take showers, in humid weather..." He then smirks, "The beer is fine."
"Er... no, not really, Captain." Cammy admits. She assumes he means more than the obvious - Italian and German people, after all. No doubt this is some other sort of military specific knowledge which she still is mostly clueless about, despite the best efforts of her fellow commandoes.
Really, they only put up with her for the fighting skills, she's half certain.
"I guess so. I never really thought about it much I suppose." she adds, regarding his hair, though perhaps a little disappointed. It's just not the same without the brush. "Do you know what you are going to be doing now that the war is over?" she asks.
Grinning wildly, Guile turns towards Cammy, "Y'see, you go to Italy to apologize to the Pope for all the sinning you're going to do. Then you go to Germany and get into all the trouble you can muster. It's practically on the tourist maps. Beware partying servicemen." He takes a chug of his beer, setting it back on the bar in thought.
Finally, he shrugs, "I'm on active-reserve right now. I'll probably be deactivated. I'm going to spend some time with my wife and family and then head back this way to work on dismantling the rest of Shadoloo. It depends on a few things."
"Oh. Easy as that, eh." Cammy seems a bit bemused by that; she's not exactly into the family life thing. "A shame. I never actually got a chance to work with you much in the end. At least Adon gave us that, in a small way.". A slight pause and then she adds, "Well, a shame from my point of view, I'm sure you'll be happy enough." with a small smile, hoping she wasn't being too insulting or anything.
"It seems a lot of people are busy dismantling Shadaloo, I met a young woman here by the name of Munin who seems to have some sort of bone to pick with them. They are the sort of outfit that attracts the attentions of a lot of vigilantes, and with Lord Vega gone the Munins of this world will no doubt be successful. I'm not entirely sure what I will be doing. Whatever I am told, most likely.". The last is said a bit wryly, but not unenthusiastically, she's quite happy with her lot in life right now!
Guile smiles, taking another sip of his beer, "Easy as that... I might enter a few tournaments to keep my skills sharp." He tilts his head slightly, "You know, with organizations like Shadaloo, there's always someone looking to take the top dog's place. My money is on Balrog trying to make a move, but I don't think he has the ability to pull it off..."
He looks up towards Cammy again, his eyebrows knitting together, "No, I guess we didn't get much chance. Operational organization being what it is. Still, never say never, Cammy." He frowns slightly, "You not liking the military life very much?"
"Oh no, not at all, I didn't mean to insinuate that. I'm settled in quite well now I think. It was rather overwhelming at first, however, and I do confess that I don't exactly share all the interests of some of my comrades...". From staid and placid Doll to soldier/secret agent is quite a leap. "But it's nice to have friends and know your place in the world, and doing some good into the bargain can't be a bad thing. I do sometimes find it a little hard to believe that I did all this before but I am assured I did. I guess it'll all come back to me eventually...".
She shrugs regarding Shadaloo. "Quite possibly. Whoever takes over can hardly be as much of a threat as Vega though. The organisation always seemed to be about one man ultimately, with that man removed... there isn't much left. There are plenty of other threats out there besides Shadaloo though, I don't doubt that my future orders will involve them.".
Guile smiles, taking another sip of his beer. He sets it down and rotates on the stool to face her. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands in front of him. He shakes his head and responds, "Don't worry about your comrades, their likes and dislikes. Even with the general stuff. If they didn't drink warm European beer and chase cold European tail as much as they do, they'd be almost as good in a fight as you are. Also, you're a team. Your skills compliment their skills and vice-versa. Don't try to be carbon copies of your comrades." He tilts his head slightly, reaching up to scratch at his hair as he considers what he just said, "Unless you learned their fighting style from your best friend. Even then, throw your sonic booms two-handed."
He rolls his eyes, "Anyway... and remember that you can't worry about your future orders. Most of the time, you can't do anything about them anyway. So don't worry yourself over it. If we never meet again, and you learn nothing else but that from me, I will be happy to have met you."
"But the military is all about conformity." Cammy points out to him. "You have a uniform you wear after all. And so do I.". She taps one... shoulder. As her uniform covers up so little thats about the nearest non-risque part of it she can tap! "To encourage that conformity! Of course, there are different specialties, like Lita fights with a sword, and me mainly with throws and kicks, but uniformity is still a good thing for the team building experience.".
12 + 0 Dolls, all different, all the same!
"I'm not expected to fight like them however, though I have been taught a few things by Delta Red this past month already. I... have my own way of fighting.".
Guile grunts, nodding his head. He adds after a sip of beer, "But not at the expense of individuality. People think they're mutually exclusive concepts, but seriously... look at my hair. Usually..."
He smirks, taking another much longer sip of his beer. He pushes the empty glass back to the other edge of the bar, "One more whatever-this-is!"
Cammy glances up at his hair. Which is so disappointing right now. "You are a captain though, I think some individuality is allowed there... and air force, too. I think it's a bit different for us. Even special forces. Though I have some individuality too you know, I'm not denying that.". She reaches around behind her and takes hold of a braid by the fluffy tip, holding it up as proof.
"And I'm even sticking to my odd tastes in hair, unlike some." she grins, inordinately proud of her braids. When Guile is ordering another beer, she remembers her own drink, looking down to the whiskey in one hand, and takes a dainty sip, having forgotten all about it.
Guile smirks, "That's not all it's cracked up to be. In my unit, it means I do all the paperwork along with slogging through the same mud." He glances to the braid just as his drink arrives. Before taking his first sip, he replies, "Exactly. Stick to that."
When she takes a shot at his hair again, he turns towards her. His eyebrows draw together and he asks, "Do you know what kind of hair spray I need to maintain that flattop? It's chalk full of cancer-causing space-aged polymers and good old American made lead-based paint. Get off it!"
Cammy smirks a little at him, unable to resist the Battle of Extreme Hair. Clearly she's winning! "I'm sure that if you had hair as long as mine you would soon discover that I suffer for looks as well. Sore necks, exotic shampoos, hours of washing, even more hours of drying, let alone the braiding..." she tells him with open mirth.
"There's another girl I know with even longer hair again. My friend, apparently, but a strange one. A ninja. I don't remember her...". She frowns at that, good mood suddenly banished with one stray thought. "Guess I should contact her or something, she dropped in of her own accord to see me pretty much and has been gone ever since. I suppose thats how ninjas are." she mutters, now frowning at a point in space somewhere to the left of Guile's face, lost in her own introspection.
After a long, warm sip of his beer, Guile looks towards Cammy with a curious expression, "What's up with you and hair today? You're not planning anything drastic, are you?" He trails off, looking back to his drink with a concerned expression.
After another sip, he looks back to Cammy, "Look, if you need an intervention, or to go to a meeting or something, let me know. Listen to the sound of my voice, ok? Cammy, put the scissors down."
There is a short pause until he repeats, "Cammy, put the scissors down." By way of explanation, before he next drink, "Just remember the sound of my voice when you go to cut your hair, ok?"
"I wasn't really thinking about hair...". Her eyes shift to focus upon Guiles face, and she just has to smile. "You have missed your true calling as a comedian I think, Captain." she tells him. "You are wasted in the army, clearly, when you could be amusing the masses.". She shakes her head at him, and sips more whiskey. "I'm not going to cut the braids off. I like my braids. They are here to stay.".
She raises an eyebrow at his concerned look. "Why? Are you worried about my hair or something?" she asks, smirking again. Easily upset, but easily amused as well. "Maybe if I get very drunk one day... I think Colonel Wolfman would not approve of that.".
Guile laughs, shaking his head, "Not in the least bit. I like the Air Force. Comedy doesn't offer the chance for a good fight that the Air Force does, either."
With a raised eyebrow, Guile peers at Cammy and shakes his head, "No. I try not to worry about anything I can't control anyway." He shakes his head and rolls his eyes, "Think of that... A Colonel mad about short hair."
Cammy drains her whiskey glass, and puts the empty on the bar top, licking her lips with some vague bemusement. Why do people drink this shit anyway? But she better get used to it for social reasons, that much has been made evident to her by her fellow commandoes. "Wise words, if you can manage it." she tells him, voice a little faint from the whiskey.
"I think I will be leaving Myanmar fairly soon myself, by the way. I'm not really sure what Delta Red has planned for me then. Something, I hope. Being at a loose end doesn't sound very pleasant to me... I suppose I can find my ninja friend at least.".
Guile shakes his head, "Not wise. Just common sense, really. Hunting Vega, you have to hedge your bets like that. Strike where you can, worry about what you can worry about, and try not to let the rest drive you to drink."
He looks up for a moment, making a Hmm sound. He looks back to Cammy, nodding his head, "Like I said, I've got a C-130 going through Brittain on the way home. Let me know if you or the boys want a lift."
"Okay. I think we'll be here longer than you though. If something happens maybe I shall look you up for some backup, but I am sure we can handle it. We even have some independent contractors now, so we're really more than ready for whatever we find here. Maybe I'll introduce you to her at some point." Cammy tells him. "Or him. There might even be more than one if we hired the other guy as well." she muses.
"Anyway, I think I should get going, I'm not here to hang around in bars all the time after all.". She glances over at the now drunk commandoes at her table. "Well, I'm not, anyway.".
With another long drink of his beer, Guile replies, "Sure, sure. It's always good to know people in the community." He then smirks, something occuring to him, "You know, they should give you a recruiter's badge or something. Only... No place to pin it." He chuckles again, taking another sip of his beer to finish it off.
He seems to consider another one for a moment, and then decides against it. He stands up, looking towards the door before offering, "How about I walk you ladies home? Dangerous streets here..."
Cammy shakes her head at that. "It isn't the most practical of uniforms, I must admit... but I do have a badge.". She does as well, a little red triangle affixed to it. Modesty forbids her from pointing it out though.
And at his suggestion, she just shakes her head, half amused, half irritation. "Thank you, Captain, but I think we don't need to hang off of American coattails quite /that/ explicitly." she tells him. "If we couldn't handle walking around at night we shouldn't be here at all. Besides, based on our last friendly match perhaps I should be walking /you/ home?" she suggests with a challenging grin, even as she turns aside to pad over to the her comrades.
Drunk they may be, but they look like they can handle themselves even while under the influence. If anything it probably has a 'power up' effect in fact! They also apparently have the ability to get home in foreign cities while off duty too, judging by the fact that they all manage to get up and seem to understand from Cammy that it's home time. Without even arguing.
With a crease in his brow, Guile simply shakes his head. He turns back to the bar, sitting back down and waving over the bartender. When he arrives, Guile thinks things through for a moment and then decides to order something better for him than that nasty, vile beer.
"Whiskey. Neat."
Log created on 16:58:56 03/21/2012 by Guile, and last modified on 17:56:42 03/29/2012.