Description: --EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Brett Neuer, El Fuerte and The Great Bartitsu Mask, finally get together to plan their counter attack against the forces of Duke and his thugs and how Brett totally needs a mask.
It seems that the hand of Fate would bring El Fuerte and Brett together again in a their SNF match. The two fighters discuss the events of that fate full night where they were called upon to defend the right of people to consume tacos in the street (or rather, Fuerte was called while Brett just kind of stumbled into it) that would later unleashed the wrath of Metro City's criminal syndicate upon them.
For Brett this meant a life threatening assault against his parents, and for Fuerte it was the near permanent ban of the sport he loves. Eventually the two problems resolved themselves, and thanks to Delta Red's agent Cammy, the criminal master mind behind those incidents, one fellow by the name of Duke, was brought to justice.
Things had settled down after that. The scattered remains of Mad Gear gang went back to their old petty habits of dealing drugs in the streets, lucha libre was allowed in Metro City again much to enjoyment of Slam Masters' fans, Brett's parents are recovering and the Glow trade ran dry. A job well done perhaps? But one can never be too sure. Especially with the news that Duke had been released from jail through bail!
A new evil was forming in Metro City and El Fuerte would not allow to catch him unprepared.
Like his predecessor, Mayor Mike Haggard, he would unleash the holy powers of wrestling upon these vile criminals and make them repent their ways!
For this he would need the assistance of a team composed of those that had been affected by Duke and his gang before. Brett was summoned of course, but there was yet a missing piece, another masked avenger that had laid very low while all these events took place.
The enigmatic Bartitsu Mask
Metro City Slums 8:00 PM
"So.." El Fuerte scratches the top of his mask whilst standing next to his hockey player ally, a puzzled look on his face. "Maybe if we light a signal in the sky she will come to aid us? Yes! That's it! We can shine the silhouette of a cane up in the heavens and she will know her assistance is needed!"
"What do you think amigo?"
Apparently no one told Fuerte that B. Mask seems to be blind.
Let it just be known...the vigilante business was NOT something Brett had his heart set on when this all happened. Heck, if not for Duke's disproportionate attempt at coercion, the young winger might have never even bothered down this road. Love of one's family does a lot, after all, and he never did get a good chance to help give Duke one in the nose.
So standing here, in the slums like this, looking for a 'fellow vigilante' is definitely not something he envisioned him doing EVER, forget just tonight. "I'm not even really sure what we're looking for," he says. He's heard the name 'Bartitsu Mask', but never seen the face. "Does she even HAVE a signal or anything?" He's mostly along for the ride with Fuerte as they look, as it seems like the luchador has the better ideas, but...perhaps not too much better.
Perhaps it's a good thing Brett bothered to come out in full gear. Who knows who might jump them as they dally around aimless me on this side of town.
The Great Bartitsu Mask.
Even the name sounds odd. Searching for a lone fighter who dresses the part, a masked woman wearing all black side a pure white mask with an oddly cheshire smile painted onto it. Reports that have come in have slowed to a trickle, but they keep happening. Just, as it seems, at a slower pace. Tonight was a good night to find her.
With a full moon in the sky, the skyline would have been an awesome place to start-- but crime-riddled slums like what Metro City had to offer seemed like a good spot to start. Actually, it was the best start. She was here, after all.
A nearby club pumped out some happening beats-- as it always did. 2 healthy intimidating men stood watch over the front door accepting only the seediest of men and women.
Gunshots. The sound of shouting, and fighting. It would have been enough to make any martial arts movie pale in comparison. Sounds of smashing, crashing. The two bouncers turned to run in, but were instantly ejected as well. This fight, almost 200 meters from the two fighting males, had stopped, by the time the men would have gotten there. Amidst the fresh ruin of the bar, there was a short person.
Black cape. Black hair. Black suit. Black top hat.
Calmly standing amidst the defeated, nay a scratch amidst their body. It seriously looked like a scene Segata Sanshirou would have openly bragged about. This may have seemed uncalled for, side one little fact--
the 10 kilograms of Glow on a table through a freshly smashed back room wall.
Of course she has a signal! Any self respecting vigilante has one! It comes with the job even, it's universal, even one such as El Fuerte who had not planned on taking the vigilante road despite being obviously equipped for the job, knew of this signal.
The signal was always sounds of battle.
"There it is!" Chirps the willy Luchador once he hears the gunshots some distance away. Normal people, /reasonable/ people, know that when they hear gun shots, the best course of action is to turn the opposite direction and start accelerating through their fastest method of transportation. Too bad that El Fuerte is not the most normal, nor reasonable of people. He gets a manic grin as he hears the obvious street battle happen a good distance away and starts running headlong towards it. "Come on! Hurry amigo!!" He calls to Brett to make sure he's tagging along, not even bothering to ask him what he wanted to do in this case.
Sure enough, once they arrive a gruesome spectacle greets them in the form of someone that quite likely fits the description of Bartitsu Mask standing a top a pile of beaten hooligans. "Whoa!" She's just like what El Fuerte imagined her, and he giddily starts jumping in place like a child would when about to meet their idol, the fact that there may be some random gunmen lurking in the darkness is completely irrelevant to him.
"There she is..." He turns to look at Brett "Go on, go talk to her!" Says the Luchador as if all this had been Brett's idea.
Gunshots...yep, that sounds like something. And it's a something that Brett is...just about ready to get the hell away from, before Fuerte's manic grin and reaction make it clear: this is DEFINITELY not something he wants to be involved in. Unfortunately...there's also the big problem of such trouble very likely being the center of something that would attract Bartitsu Mask. "Why don't I like this idea..." he groans, before following after the luchador.
Once they arrive at the scene of the...er...crime, Brett himself is quite taken aback. "Geez..." he groans, looking quite unsettled, before turning to the masked mystery that is assuredly 'Bartitsu Mask'. "Um...hi." This should make it clear that having Brett talk to her is probably a bad idea. "So...you're...Bartitsu Mask?"
It was then that the Masked woman had turned. Height most definitely played a problem for the woman, who was quite a bit shorter than both the luchador and the hockey player. She sniffed at the air, though at first glance she seemed to just stand there, staring blankly at the hockey player. Her instinct was to attack first and follow through later. However, she picked up on something. Something she hadn't smelled in a while.
Spice.
through the dank smell of smoke, sweat, and emptied chambers, the dark haired woman had smelled a spice she hadn't picked up on in a while. She stepped forward slowly, over her enemies. Several innocent patrons watched, the caped woman stepped quietly through the front door and over a bouncer, where she stood before the two men, cape pulled around her. The ghostly white and bright mask had only the most cheshire, yet basic smile on it, like some kind of really excited emoticon. Her head dipped.
...But she addressed El Fuerte. In Spanish.
"....How long has it been since I stood before you?" she asked in Spanish, completely ignoring the fact it was Brett addressing her. "...And who is this...?"
El Fuerte was totally not trying to use Brett as a meat shield, no sir, that was definitely not his intention. Although this may hard to believe by the way he recoils in horror when B. Mask walks right past Brett and 'stares' at him through her smiley face mask. "AY!!" The o' so mighty strong luchador jumps back as he tries to blend in with his surroundings by hiding behind a trash can. This is a strange reaction for El Fuerte, he is not known to know fear, particularly from someone he was trying to find. It's more like...he's acting shy?
"Oh no, she's gonna talk to me! What do I do? What do I say??"
As he mumbled to himself in fright, his shy behavior was quickly dispelled when B. Mask surprises him by speaking in his native language. A great way to earn someone's trust is by breaking through that cultural barrier after all. "Eh!!?" Fuerte jumps out from his hiding spot in a flash, standing right next to Brett so they both stare at the masked hero.
"Hablas Espaņol??" He asks excitedly, his excitement growing as much as his confusion "...como es que reconozco tu voz?" <How is it that I recognize your voice?> The Masked Mexican whispers to himself until recognition hits him like a ton of bricks. El Fuerte /never/ forgets a costumer!
"I know who she is!!" His hands SLAM against his mouth to shut himself up before he blurts out B. Mask's secret identity, looking sideways to Brett with a worried look. "It would be best if we change locals a tout suite, amigo." If he's gonna be mixing up languages might as well throw as many as he can into the fray. Besides Brett is Canadian, as all hockey players are, he should know French.
The aimless gaze of the masked woman is...unnerving at best. And Brett can't help but tense when he feels a threatening presence come from her. "Wait!" he shouts...until she vizibly relaxs....then walks past him and immediately preceded to ignore him. "Wh..." And when she starts to talk in Spanish, he finds himself even more confused. "I....what..." he mutters.
At least Fuerte is happy...not that Brett can join his good mood, a small jolt as the luchador suddenly claps his hands over his mouth. "I.......yeah....maybe," he says. He scratches the back of his neck. Seriously....what's going on here now?"
Several blocks of walking away, the Masked woman turned. Addressing El Fuerte in Spanish was one thing, but realizing that Brett couldn't take a part of the conversation, she switched to English. A language all three fighters knew. She had picked a dark alleyway. The top hat hid nothing when she removed it. Long, midnight hair that touched her mid back-- long for a fighter. The Cape was the next to come off-- it was velcro'd under the collar of her suit jacket.
"...I was convinced I was the only one out there." The masked woman admitted slowly. Closer inspection could have identified that the black eye holes were just PAINTED on.
"Six Months? Is this right, El Fuerte?" She asked, her hand lifting to her mask, and slowly withdrawing it. It was an asian woman. One who kept her eyes closed until a pair of sunglasses took the place of the mask. She was pale-- even by Asian standards.
She turned to Brett.
"...Yes. I am Bartitsu Mask." She mused, sniffing him out slowly. She had to. She couldn't see him. Not with Sunglasses on at night.
"...You smell like Febreeze and an entire sports bag full of sweaty equipment." Her head lifted. "The name is Fuji. You only call me that when you don't look and smell like a Dwayne Johnson Throwback Movie."
...Wait. Fuji? As in Fuji Yatefusa? As in the best selling author?
"Si! At least half a year since then!" Switching back to English, or Spanglish really for El Fuerte who's grasp of the language is nowhere near as extensive as Fuji's, El Fuerte crosses his muscled arms watching as how the great Bartitsu Mask reveals her identity to Brett. Normally he would be adamantly against the mask fighter removing her mask, no matter the situation, however is history with the woman extended even before she took the acclaimed role of crime fighter, even before she was an author too!
He knew her as the strange little blind Asian woman who liked his cooking.
"Heh! Don't take it to heart, amigo." The luchador pats Brett's broad shoulder when Fuji is seemingly offended by his body odor. "My compadre here, Brett Neuer, is a hockey player seņorita, his scent is the scent of the ice!" Trying to mediate for Fuji is not easy, but if there's a person that can do it, it may be El Fuerte.
"Nevertheless, it is good to see you again seņorita Fuji, I never did get the chance to congratulate about your book. It is must fortunate to know that you are the famous Bartitsu Mask too! This makes things a lot easier, we have a lot to discuss!"
Brett scowls a little, sinking down a bit at Fuji's rather...blunt appraisal of him. "That's....not fair," he mutters. He could swear he washed everything too. He gives Fuerte a look and sighs. He can't say the name jumps out immediately. Sure, it's familiar, but he's not one of those who ended up contributing to the book sales. Maybe he's not much of a reader.
"So..." he starts on, trying to quickly butt in before book talk goes too long. Wait...book...now that makes Brett ponder a little more. It does sound a little more familiar now....but not quite enough to make that connection.
If there was one thing to learn about the short asian woman, she could dish out the insults better than anyone. She was blind, after all, and had to rely exclusively on her senses. At the sound of his discontent, Fuji brushed him off. Her appraisal, as it seemed, was not far off. The dark haired woman leaned against a wall then, gloved hands folded under her chest as she leaned forward. The sirens had enveloped the bar which Fuji had singlehandedly tore apart. She always tried her best not to leave any signs of her exit-- she was pretty meticulous like that.
"...Yeah. The whole best selling bit has been a bit of a dampener. Interviews. Signings. You know. I can't walk anywhere when my picture is on the back cover. Fuji. On a book. Still wearing Shades in a black and white photograph.
"...The scent of the Ice." she repeated, musing from El Fuerte's words about Brett made Fuji turn, and slowly walk towards Brett quietly. She walked around him slowly, and El Fuerte too if he got in the way. "...Is he wearing a visor...?" She asked.
Oh, El Fuerte is most certainly in the way, that's the wrestler's shtick after all, being a bother and a nuisance...to EVIL DOERS that is. Standing resolute beside Brett as he endures Fuji's judgmental, non-existent leer, the plucky luchador smiles with hands on his hips letting Brett and Fuji get acquainted with each other without lobbing insults. He knows that super heroes are supposed to fight each other before joining forces, but he reckons it's a bit late for that, besides there's always sparring and what not.
He's also acting surprisingly happy after leaving a crime scene, as if the sound of police sirens and beaten, bloodied goons didn't affect him at all. Little do both Brett and Fuji know that El Fuerte has grown numb to those kinds of things if his interaction with Los Zetas says anything. However, El Fuerte hasn't ever disclosed his past and isn't about to do so either, so for all people know the luchador doesn't react to any of it simply because he's insane.
"I'll admit that I haven't gotten a copy yet." El Fuerte titters slightly, still greatly amused that the Great Bartitsu Mask happens to be none other than Fuji, someone he actually considered a close acquaintance of sorts. "Maybe now I will though, if you promise to sign it for me, amiga!" Great, just what Fuji needs, another fan.
When she asks about Brett's visor whilst walking circles around the two of them, the wrestler peered at Brett and pursed his lips. "Hmm..well, he's wearing a helmet." Said he, giving Brett's hockey helm a couple of knocks. "I told you you should had gone with the hockey mask combo, then we could all be masked and it would be great!"
But he didn't come here to chide Brett, or talk about Fuji's latest best seller, the luchador was a man on a mission!
"Seņorita Fuji, surely you must have heard of the wave of crime that has assaulted Metro City recently. My friend Brett here and I have tirelessly fought against it, but I fear our efforts will not be enough! If you were to assist us, then it would spell the doom for all these terrible criminal organizations. They cannot be allowed to continue operating! Just listen to what they did to Brett's family!"
He motions to Brett. "It's okay, you can tell her what they did to you, she's a friend."
Brett blinks a little more. He got the idea that she was blind rather early, but....he's still surprised at her perceptiveness, though perhaps not infallible. "N-no...no visor," he said, frowning a little more as he places a self-conscious hand atop his helmet. The unnerving...giddiness from Fuerte isn't exactly helping too much either. And Fuerte's comment brings another frown on his face. "I hate masks. I could never see very well with them, even the visors," he mutters. He's not a goalie for good reason...ok, maybe the mask isn't the biggest reason but still.....
And when Fuerte finally brings up why they're all here...well...that's when Brett's demeanor sours significantly. Sure, his parents are healing up and his dad is finally up and walking again, but it's still a sore spot. "...Duke was in my hotel room one night, after me amd Mr. Fuerte helped a taco stand owner with some thugs about to burn him alive. He basically told me get out of Metro City or else...I didn't...and the next morning, I found out someone threw a grenade into my ma and pa's house."
It was hard to believe that someone like Fuji wasn't actually on the other side of the fence. Unlike the other two, she was dark, brooding, and incredibly analytical for a blind person. She's the type of person who probably could remember an entire court case if she was sitting in the room while it was happening. She was realizing that it was unnerving Brett, and El Fuerte was helping aggravate him to a much higher degress. She listened to his story quietly, saying nothing during his explanation.
"...Even a Slightly tinted visor would have prevented that." Fuji reminded him then. Her head turned with her body. She faced the wall then, a Brick and lead-window 3 story monstrosity with a fire escape and a rogue dumpster no dump truck would ever be able to get to. "...This... Duke fellow." Fuji mused slowly. She was undoubtedly curious about the whole endeavor. It was then the grey eyed woman turned back. "...It is a name I am unfamiliar with." She said, shaking it slowly. "He sounds powerful. Who is he?" Oh. The blessed ignorant.
"Or a bandit mask" While the topic is indeed very grim, it is not like El Fuerte will let the topic about Brett wearing mask go, he's very adamant about his masks as any luchador is. "You can just wrap it around your mouth, then put the helmet and VIOLA! Instant hockey ninja!" He's good at suggesting things like this, he has a lot of experience with masks.
But he's getting off subject again, El Fuerte does seem to have the attention span of a gnat, which may be why it took so long to get together. /They/ were the ones that were supposed to take down Duke and his goons, but since they took their own sweet time to get things organized, Cammy had to step in and do the job for them.
Now that Duke is out and about again, they may get to exact their revenge after all. "I don't know much about that hombre." El Fuerte says with a shrug "Other than he's the one behind it all, as far as I am concerned he is only another petty crime lord that makes his living through the suffering of others. A petulant parasite than needs to be squashed! Like all those who gain their fortune through extortion and drugs!!" El Fuerte realizes he's starting to get a bit too passionate and composes himself, best not to reveal his previous experiences with drug gangs to his allies, at least not this early.
"He's probably pretty strong, although I feel there is a darker hand behind all of this. All is not as it seems, there may be something deeper at play here aside from just this Duke guy."
Good grief....the mask thing just isn't about to go without a fight, is it? Brett looks rather exasperated, and due to his grimness from before, his mood is enough that he's more than willing to butt back against the idea. "Enough about trying to get me a mask, huh?" he snipes, grumbling a little, before turning back to both of them, especially Fuji as she asks about Duke. "He is....was....the guy in charge of selling GLOW around here before. I think Cammy was able to beat him down and at least cut him off. And the trade is down apparently but...I know he's bad news. He has some connections, and I know he's not going to just disappear after getting arrested. Not with how quick he managed to get out to begin with."
Fuerte's suggestion that there's even darker aspirations above Duke's head must makes the poor winger feel....uneasy. VERY uneasy.
"...Doubtful, but still possible." Fuji added.
The small woman amidst the two men was the least bit intimidating when compared to the other two-- but she carried something about her. It wasn't a confidence that finished the look. It was the decisiveness. How on earth any woman could EVER be that crisp and to the point, one would never know. She was kind of right on that front too. If he had a mask or way of hiding himself, his family stood a better chance. But it's kind of hard to remain anonymous when NEUER is written on the back of your jersey.
The grey eyed woman shifted, and turned to Fuerte. "...You should control yourself." she muttered. "If you get too loud, you'll let everyone know we're here. If you so much as get one nerdy reader here, you'll blow my cover." The grey eyed woman inhaled slowly, and closed her eyes then. "...So what do you two expect to do? If you want to catch a monster, you have to lay out a trap, yes...? She brought her left hand to her chin in thought. "...And perhaps Duke would be the key." she waited for the others to catch up a little.
Since Duke was incarcerated, the reports of 'Glow" have skyrocketed, right?" ...Someone watched the news. "...That being the case, there's another organization OTHER than Duke out there who is seizing the day-- but a mass quantity move like this... it would be intentional. To get at Duke and those who worked for him. Or I may be wrong."
Some would doubt that Fuji has what it takes to be a vigilante judging only by her height, specially when compared to fairly big buff guys like El Fuerte and Brett. Despite the obvious difference in girt however, the luchador seems glad to speak to her as an equal, the luchador and the hockey player may be upstarts in this whole crime fighting business, but they still know when to give respect to one that obviously deserves it.
Besides even if El Fuerte hadn't seen many of Fuji's SNFs where he found that she's a fighter, all the proof he needs is the pile of Mad Gear chumps laying unconscious a few blocks away.
"Oh, sorry, hehehe" El Fuerte giggles and stumbles a bit, back to his cheerful mood, back to his front of playfulness, always keeping that darkness sealed tight within him even if it makes him look like a fool. "We actually don't know. My original intention was to follow in Major Haggard's footsteps. We take the fight to the streets and transverse Metro City beating every one of their hooligans until we find Duke's hidden base and lucha him to submission! But that plan seems a little silly now.."
This isn't a video game after all. Haggar, Guy and Cody were professionals!
"I think we should plan out our next move, conduct some searches, see where they meet and ambush them when they are scattered. If we start to become a thorn on their side then they will eventually reveal themselves to us and then we'll know what to do."
There's something funny about Brett being the tallest of all of them by at least a half a foot WITHOUT skates...and yet looking the most out of place and inexperienced of all. Still, as talk comes serious, the hockey kid folds his arms, looking grim as he nods at Fuji's appraisal of the situation. "That's...seems like a good idea, actually," he says, raising an eyebrow and giving Fuerte a dumbfounded look at HIS idea. "....what? When were you going to tell me this?"
It quickly came to realization just who may be the brains in the operation. The very thought, however, left Fuji with a somewhat sour taste in her mouth. How exactly was she going to lure Duke into expelling information? It was the first time she ever recalled actually scratching her head. The grey eyed woman shifted, then. "...Bearing what we do know about the situation...." Fuji found herself musing. "Whoever is moving the current stock of Glow is doing it as both a "Screw you" and a property inheritance from Duke."
She turned to Brett then.
"...There is no easy way for me to say what I'm about to say, Mr. Neuer." Fuji found herself saying. "...But get your family out of here. While he may have tried, Duke didn't kill your family. There's no sense in fighting the next power if you stand to lose more than the rest of us." Her head lifted. "...Here's how I see it." Pun intended. "...We have to accept the fact we as a team will never fully stop the drug trade, no matter how hard it hurts you two directly. You may have to accept that while that happens, you should better be able to mediate it's distributor." She lifted her head then. "...That being said, Mr. Neuer..." Fuji said directly to him. "If the next guy is worse than him... Would you be able to accept the fact that Duke ran the drug trade over these... other people...?"
She let that sink for a moment. "...At least then we know we can control the flow."
Fuji pets Brett.
El Fuerte is quite glad to relinquish his position as heads of the operation and give it to Fuji. It was clearly not working either way, El Fuerte is extremely over excitable and because of this he tries to everything at the same time, which was why he couldn't get organized with Brett sooner so they could meet up with Fuji. From the brief instance that the luchador had met Fuji, he knew that her advices were sound and should be followed. She did manage to make his cooking better after all, if any improvement to his dishes are totally abysmal.
Listening to Fuji as he orders Brett to take his family somewhere else safe, El Fuerte first meets the hockey player's question with wide eyes and a shrug of his broad shoulders "When was I going to tell you what? That I didn't have a plan or that I was getting all my references from Mayor Mike Haggard?" The luchador can't think of any other way to fight crime that /doesn't/ involved wrestling after all, and Brett never suggested anything else! Actually, he barely talks, so that may have been why El Fuerte thought he was okay with the idea.
"I care not." Says the Mexican luchador at Fuji's grim reveal that they will never defeat those who traffic drugs. "So long as I draw breath I will forever stand against them. Such is the way of the tecnico luchador! I shall lucha Duke, and then I shall lucha his boss, and then his boss' boss and so forth!"
"It is what El Santo would do."
Brett just...stares at Fuerte and his innocent response. "....either or?!" he retorts back, rubbing his head. Maybe this was a really bad idea. But...doesn't seem to be a way to turn back now.
Instead, he turns back to Fuji, a rather deep frown given to her. "My family's back in Minnesota," he says, a firm nod. No need to worry about them getting out of the city that way at least.
"I'm...not a hero. I don't want to pretend I am or that I'll be able to change things for good, or that worse people won't come in and fill the spaces. I just want to make sure this group doesn't do anything else like they did to my family. That's enough for me."
The Grey eyed woman shifted. Though she couldn't see it, she knew what kind of emotion was being conveyed upon her. Unfortunately, someone always has to be the one with the grim reality. She looked up towards the sky then. Hrmph. The dark sky was beginning to change. She could feel it. Slowly, the dark haired woman shifted. Most of her costume was tucked away-- she was wearing it. The top hat could collapse, and the mask? Well. She had to hide that. Stepping past the two men, Fuji was making a move to exit the alleyway they were hidden in. She knew that El Fuerte would try to follow her if given the chance.
"Mr. Neuer." Fuji said then. "Everyone is useless until they do something about it. You're standing in an alley wearing hockey padding talking to a half naked masked Mexican and a short blind woman in a business suit. If you seriously think that you're not a hero, you may as well stop playing hockey, give up on your aspirations of being someone better, and let your city be crushed-- like everyone else." She turned a little more then. "You have fans, family, and others who love and care about you whom you desire to protect. Get over yourself. You -ARE- a hero. At least to them. She turned then. "...Even if you smell funky."
"...There's a cellphone number in my book. Reverse it. It's my phone number. Please. Stay in touch.
...She was leaving?!
El Fuerte looks down at this pants. Hm, looks like he really is half naked, woops. Usually when he's out and about on the city he at least tries to wear a sweat shirt, but since he was in 'super hero' mode he might have accidentally decided to go out with broad chest exposed. Ah well, that's one way to tell evil that he does not fear them anyway!
"OOooohh..." The wrestler gives Brett a pained expression after Fuji chews him up "I guess she told you, didn't she amigo? -Hey wait!" Fuji's really good at second guessing people, because the wrestler does in fact try to chase her when she begins to move away. It doesn't look like she wants to be followed though and through an herculean effort from his part, El Fuerte actually /SLOWS DOWN/
I know, it's incredible.
"At least this gives me an excuse to buy that book anyway." Mutters the luchador as Fuji makes her quick exit. "Hey amiga! Don't forget to stop by my restaurant sometime! You still owe me that cooking lesson!"
Perhaps Brett had a high standard of hero...or he just didn't feel like he fit the mold. Certainly no kind of super hero or anything. Even with Fuji trying to lay down the law, it didn't really phase the hockey kid. "I'm not about to pretend I'm better than I am," he says under his breath. Not trying to hide anything from any one, mind. Just...more talking to himself it seems.
And as Fuji walks off to be alone again, and Fuerte...tries his best not to follow and instead focuses on the book, the former winger just...sighs, leaning up against the alleyway as he thinks. Is this really the way he's skating down?...looks like there may be no turning back from this. Him....a vigilante.
Geez, maybe he really is gonna need a mask at this rate.
Log created on 17:32:04 06/02/2012 by ElFuerte, and last modified on 22:33:57 06/02/2012.