Description: Late to the party as usual, Mister Johnny Jones Damon wanders about Sunshine City in search for Zaki and her gang to clear up a 'misunderstanding' Elena and he had with her goons. Looks like no one told Jones that Sunshine City is pretty much a warzone thanks the violent school girl though, and before he can say 'Cut' the Ex-Movie Star learns that this goes way deeper than simple schoolgirls stirring up trouble for no reason. Jones isn't the only one surprised after the meeting, Zaki emerges from the encounter with a new very groovy henchman that is seemingly too willing to get into the role of a hero once again. But is Jones biting a lot more than he can chew? Is he doing this just to impress Elena? And where is Daniel Jack anyway!? All this and more in tonight's episode of Match of the Millennium!
News of the Ladies' Team's apparently intended departure from Sunshine City is the hot topic of the moment; the local media is buzzing, and national exposure has been generated for the scarlet-haired sukeban. Zaki's intentions remain clear however-- and even the least interested viewer of the tape could not fail to notice the anger still driving her, nor that she herself intends to remain. The police department has been mobilised in response to her unveiled threats, and an air of uncertainty now surrounds her fate...
Of course, the exodus of her subordinates is an operation in itself. For now, the delinquent can be found in the same location she has occupied for several weeks - a gutted building on the fringe of the city's mortally dangerous industrial district, covered by tarpaulins where the roof has caved and manned up to this point by perhaps two hundred battle-capable teenagers, coming and going at all hours. Now, while Zaki herself can be found within, as the sun begins to set over the outer city, packs of girls can be seen /leaving/ only.
It's an odd sight, the seemingly endless trickle of small groups of Japanese schoolgirls armed with chains and switchblades, their clothing torn and hair dishevelled from their warlike occupation. Doubtless not all are escaping unbothered, but there's an odd air of finality about their movements; like the end of a particularly wild festival, their feet drag and their step winds with a despondent air. It all lacks energy.
Outside the building Zaki has been using as her base of operations, a handful of young women remain, reclining or squatting on packed bags as they chatter and converse. One or two bear weapons, but are more toying with them than brandishing them in any particularly threatening way. Through the battered brick of the empty doorframe, within, the gang leader herself paces, directing a further half dozen girls as they make their own arrangements to vacate. Anyone gaining entry would see instantly that it's the room where her already infamous video proclamation was made, complete with recently destroyed television set.
And right now, that entry would be easy to gain. Any approaching without immediately violent intent are regarded with an askance wariness, but it's almost as though orders have been given to stand down - and indeed they have. Zaki's willingness to face detractors on /her/ terms was no deception. From holed up in a nearly impenetrable fortress, she has segued to being almost too willing to concede her position.
Somehow, it just doesn't feel... right.
While everything in Sunshine City if not the world may be going to hell in a hand basket, some people are exemplary at remaining completely oblivious of their surroundings and carry on as if everything is perfectly normal. Reasons for this often are a complete lack of sense of awareness that prevents them, for good or bad, to realize what is happening on their surroundings. Others though, take it to the next level and though are completely aware of where they are and /when/ they are, choose to change their current venture through sheer force of will.
Case in point: Mister Jones. Recent Headlines for world shattering news are completely, absofreakinglutely, irrelevant for a guy, a cat, who is permanently stuck in the 70s.
Why yes, it sure is awesome being totally oblivious. While everyone in Sunshine City is running up and down like headless chickens on fire, Johnny Jones swaggers his way down the street like he owns the dang place. Now granted, he does seem to be in an awfully pensive mood tonight, as he transverses the busy streets of sunshine city, avoiding a group of cops that huzzle to barricade streets, the self proclaimed Groove Master and King of Disco stares at the ground with his hands on his pockets. The last few weeks have been most troubling, he's been focusing far too much on the NDP and taking steps to join the NL to roll with the big boys and what not to pay attention to things that really matter, all this...self glorifying has is most Ungroovy behavior for Mister Jones who prides himself for always putting the troubles of others before his own.
Taking a break from all his sanctioned fights, Jonesy hits the streets in order to rectify a little incident that happened some time ago in his date with Elena. It would appear that this Funky lady by the name of Zaki (Who Jones pronounces as Zach-ee) is on the war path for some reason he cannot fathom, and while that's certainly not cool, her little rag of misfit schoolgirls gone done and tried to rough out his Capoiera princess.
Now that simply will not stand.
Sunshine city going up in flame? A pity, but it happens.
A bruise on Elena's angelic face? Now that's just a gosh darned TRAVESTY!
Alas, though Jones had tried to partner up with the plucky detective Daniel Jack to apprehend this criminal, that punk had declined in a clear attempt to hog all the glory for himself. Set now without any leads, Jones wanders about the streets hoping that he somehow runs into Zaki so he can put an end to this madness. But where could she be in a city this big?
Oh hey, maybe those rough looking schoolgirls wandering out of a building might know something.
What where the odds!?
"Hey there, Good evening ladies!~" Comes Mister Jay's charming voice as he approaches the young'ns with a winning sparkly white smile, a hand stretched out cordially. "Johnny Jones, how y'all doing?" Hopefully one of them is a retro fan that might recognize him from really old movies.
Approaching the rapidly-emptying husk of the Ladies' Team headquarters is no more difficult than finding it; a fact which has only been true for the past twelve or so hours. Tracing Aoi wouldn't have been hard in itself-- the roaming bands of teenage hellions are predominantly quick to spill her name, and to raise bruises and spill blood under that self-same shared banner. There are subtle ways to approach, to cause a diversion and sneak inside... indeed, such an approach has been the cause of a great shifting of the sukeban's gears. But Jones' easy incursion has become possible - nay probable, with intent - and not a soul prevents him.
Neither do they seem to care about him once he's in their midst.
Two or three of the girls look his way as the others continue chattering, the kung fu champion already spotted from a distance and promptly disregarded as an unlikely source of threat. A threatening man wouldn't approach so readily, and by reputation he's known to be less than subtle; Kurumi has spread word of his abilities and his demeanour, though naturally her rendition of the story was quite different to what happened. Enough that they've got no reason to be worried even at the fringe possibility he might attack. The same two or three who look could certainly handle him by themselves, after all. With Zaki some small distance away...
In short, they'd ignore him, but he makes it so annoyingly hard.
"We know who you are," monotones one girl, breathing a sigh and idly swinging a heavy combat knife through the laziest, least martial slash she can boredly muster. She's plain to look at, clad in the usual modified Seijyun uniform - hers has a few silk ribbons hanging from the collar and cuffs, and the skirt is a ragged mess above the hem where she's slit it into rough triangles using a pair of dressmaker's scissors. "Times have sure changed, huh? Used to be our grandparents'd push through the crowd for your autograph, now you gotta come out here and bother us to see if we want one? No wonder they say this city's going to hell..."
Another of the girls snickers slightly, but doesn't look across for more than a second.
Kids nowadays.
No respect!
And then they ask Jones why he lives in the past, things were much easier back then, no subtle insults, or stabs in the back, problems were resolved with dance offs/kung fu fights and not all this...passive aggressive gang fighting that Zaki has stirred up over here. Why back in his day, the gangers would have just tried to mug Jones right there and then without even asking what he wants! Err...on second thought maybe the olden days weren't so good, they certainly had their flaws.
Mister Jones deflates but doesn't lose his grin when Zaki's young goons scoff him off as if he's some kind of washed up failure of a movie star, an old icon that their parents probably talked about all the time. Realization suddenly hits Jones as he figures out that he's totally out of his element right here with these girls. If their parents thought he was cool, then the girls will immediately think he's lame!
He needs to get with the times to get through this one, use some of this snazzy modern lingo!
"Hey babe, don't knock 'till you've tried it, ya feelin' me? I am still so totally hip, I can't even see my pelvis."
Okay okay, trying on too hard, back it up Jones.
"Erm.." Clearing his throat, the Kung Fu hero decides to simply just cut through the chase. He didn't come here to dazzle these girls, even if he dazzles wherever he goes, this trip is business only. "Any of you girls know where Zaki is?"
The Afro king says almost casually being far too accustomed of being surrounded by armed hooligans, girls or not. Shades keep them from seeing where his eyes focus as he glances at that large combat knife being swung lazily in the air, the chain of his own nunchucks strapped to his belt jiggling as he shifts weight on his feet.
Sure, he didn't come here to fight, but you can't blame Jones for being prepared. You never know what will happen when teenage hormone riddled girls are involved.
It actually says a lot about Jones that he's swaggering up to this motley crew with nunchuks at his hip and an oldschool, never-say-die attitude steeping his frame from funky afro to funkier feet. Unfortunately teenage girls - at least those of this particular breed - aren't easily impressed by anything, or anyone. His dialogue garners a scowl and another snickering sideglance, though one of the other girls takes interest at that point and peers across with an arched, pencil-thin eyebrow to regard the Kung Fu Hero for a long, uncomfortable moment. They don't speak, leaving the silence to linger, and linger, in the wake of his question...
"Is this guy for real?" Mutters the slyly laughing one finally, in a pitch clearly designed to just about reach the movie star's ears without seeming like she wants it to. Or cares if it does. It's just shy of a classic stage whisper, really, and garners a roll of the eyes from the brow-bending girl. "Probably. Whole city's backwards that way; living in the past. Wonder if the whole country's that way? Stupid fat Americans."
Because Jones is clearly a three hundred pound whale. Delinquents don't have to be S-M-R-T smart.
"He might be an idiot," comes the monosyllabic tone that first answered the superstar, "But he did beat Zaki one time. That's not a mistake most people make twice. Counts for something, though. Not that I'd tell him that." Reeling off the lines robotically, she talks as if Jones was simply not there - not altering her pitch or volume at all, even when she shifts position to once more look up at him, flipping her knife end-over-end in the air before neatly catching it without even looking. By the tip of the blade, no less. "She's right through that door, old man. You want to bother her, go bother her. Probably up for a good scrap right now."
Her shoulder lifts in a blasé shrug, and she gestures with the hilt of her knife toward the gutted building.
"I mean, who wouldn't be? You know something about Abobo? Figured you'd be the type..."
Her drone peters off as she stifles a yawn, turning again to face the small circle of lazing schoolgirls. As their conversation resumes - vapid enough to not be worth detailing in the slightest - only one little soupçon of notable further gossip filters through the teenage babble.
"He beat Zaki, really? And Kurumi kicked /his/ ass and that weird giraffe girl's at the same time? Wow..."
At least, true to their word, he'll actually find the sukeban not far inside.
So, to recap, Jones is in a hostile environment that he doesn't know or understand filled with people that want to kick his ass.
It's like being back in highschool!
Actually, it /is/ higschool! Jones catches the stage whisper well enough, a funky eyebrow quizzically arching upwards when the uppity condescending teenage attitude that the girl just /drips/ with. All this melodrama and people talking about each other on their back and what have you, Jones recognizes it as exactly what it is.
Petty kid stuff.
See, that's the advantage of living in the past. You wise up to the antics of the new generation and don't fall for their vices. These girls think they are hot stuff running with their gang with their badass chain swinging leader and stuff? Well, more power to them, if that's what they need to inflate their egos, that's just fine and dandy for Jones, he's just gonna walk /right/ by.
"Thanks!" Jonesy snaps his fingers and pretends like he didn't hear the backstage conversation. Once he sees the operation for what it really is all sense of danger is completely lost in him. It's just like getting through high school after all, swagger about with your funky groove and ain't nobody gonna mess with ya, even if they are lobbing insults at your back that stuff slides right off. "You kiddos play nice with each other okay?" Tha' Jones gives a parting jab to the girl that directed him to Zaki's then and ruffles her hair. Yeah, he went there, he don't care she's swinging a knife about like she knows how to use it. Fancy twirling maneuvers non-withstanding
With that said, Jonesy heads in the direction where he was pointed to get on with his important business meeting with Zaki with hopes that her reasons for running this joint ain't as juvenile as her goons.
Also, here's to hoping that it ain't a trap. Seriously, you never know with teenage girls!
"Hellooo? Anybody home? Pizza delivery!"
Jones' departure from the cast of Southtown Hills 90210 doesn't brook any more obvious comments, though girls being girls they'll assuredly be much sniping about his attire and generally outdated persona once he's left the building. For now his only response to that condescending tousling of hair is very straightforward and simple, coming perfectly in the wake of his jovial greeting to the interior of the emptying headquarters. In fact, it comes at the exact moment that Aoi Himezaki herself looks up from directing a girl with a crate full of tire irons and busted lengths of pipe to cast those piercing, vulpine blue eyes upon the Kung Fu Hero.
*thunk*
Onomatapeia doesn't do the noice justice; it's disturbingly loud and short, almost like a gunshot resounding off the ruined brickwork as the tousled, robotic girl's blade is suddenly lodged in the half-rotted wood frame to the movie star's right flank. Unlike in the movies, the weapon doesn't make a comical sproioioioing or even budge in the slightest once it's embedded-- it's just right the hell here, plunged to the hilt in the old wood. Behind him, if he does care to look, the girl doesn't reciprocate or register her action in the slightest. He's made his point and she's made his; namely, that said point could have ended up embedded in his back.
All it prompts from Zaki is a snort, the sukeban lifting herself up with a toss of her head as the sudden sound leaves as abruptly as it came. She had no way of expecting it, but she seems as gloriously, pridefully unphased about the knife's apparition as she does about that of Jones himself. She regards him for a moment, one gloved hand sliding to her hip as the other lifts to push jagged bangs from her face. One eye half-lids, her raised arm remaining as she squints at the action hero, a broad smirk stretching her mouth, unseen beneath the choking leather of her mask. The amusement even touches her gaze. How long since they last ran into each other?
However long it's been, it appears the delinquent leader remembers it.
"When I said we had unfinished business to settle," she booms in her characteristically deep tone, hand lowering to her side and shuttered eye sliding open to regard him with the full intensity of her stare. Even as relatively 'friendly' as her greeting is, it's like staring down a playful lioness. Aoi's changed a little since that throwaway official bout many months past... but she certainly hasn't changed a lot. "I wasn't expecting you to come bearing supplies to fuel the war effort. What the fuck, Jones."
She turns away a moment, fixating her glare on a girl just scampering past loaded down with a bulging rucksack with clanks with every motion, sweat on her brow and tongue protruding from her lips - doglike - as she struggles along with the burden. "Oi, Nezumi, hurry it up. Less than two hours."
"So," her attention shifts back to Jones, the sukeban not missing a beat, arms rising to fold across her chest. It's so disarmingly casual, though the sparking fire of mirth in her eyes suggests she might know something more than she's immediately letting on-- that maybe she knows this isn't exactly a social call. And why would it be? Last time they parted ways it was on promise of a second asskicking. "I hear we've got a mutual friend now, and apparently you've got quite the taste for young girls. If you're coming to ask me out on a date, old man, I'm afraid this lady's dance card is full. Or are you just here to, uh..."
Her eyes narrow, but beneath the mask she's got the most shit-eating grin like you wouldn't even believe.
"Get some payback for the 'beating' my girl laid on you and yours?"
And incoming counter attack in Three, Two---
*Thunk!*
You know, if it wasn't for the fact that there ain't no cameras and the people he's dealing with aren't all rough looking school girls, Jones could swear this is a scene from one of his movies where he's trudging about the proverbial 'tough guy' bar. His condescending pat to the head is returned with an equally pleasant gesture, namely a friggin' combat knife getting thrown at him landing just inches away from him, harrowingly missing.
Knowledgeable on all things cliche, Johnny knew something like that was coming and maintains his grin and posture as the knife lands right beside him. Can't show fear! You show them any sign of fear and they'll be eating you alive! In fact, so much is his understanding of human nature that Jones does the exact opposite.
He looks over his shoulder and shoots the girl a thumbs up.
"Nice throw!~"
Gotta keep it smooth, baby.
But on to business, there are times where Johnny Jones has to turn serious and a meeting with the poster bad girl of Sunshine City merits such a drastic change in character. Adjusting his shades, Jones' flashy grin disappears to leave in instead a disapproving, amplified all the more by those ominous ever present shades he wears that make him unable to be red. Zaki has her way to hiding her emotions via her mask and Jones has his own.
"I ain't here to dance, babe." The Groove Master speaks as he ambles around the red haired vixen, his gaze focused on her even though it looks like he's trying to walk past her. "It'd be right down impolite of me to take you up on that rematch right now." If there's a good attribute of Jones (and he must have to balance out all his quirkiness) is that he does happen to have a pretty good memory, recalling that faithful SNF match where Zaki was introduced to him as a hasty replacement for Kyo. Where it not for that, then perhaps Jones wouldn't be here looking up after Zaki. Johnny never forgets a dance partner after all, and though they have only gone at it once, to him, Zaki might as well be a close acquaintance.
Although that can change though. At the mention of a certain 'beating' one of her girls laid on, Jonesy stiffens considerably. Suddenly, he's looking a lot more threatening by the way he is glancing at Zaki while standing sideways. It's the beginning of an aggressive stance, a subtle movement is all it needs to switch to his signature fighting stance and let all hell break loose. It's clear that Zaki struck a nerve on the usually, utterly unable to get raise from, composed Groove Master. Tension settles in on the air for a moment as the ball is suddenly in Jones' court.
And he shakes it off.
"Yeah, I heard you're cool with my homie Danny boy, it's part of the reason why I decided to come and talk things out with ya. If ya can get along with Daniel then you can't be all bent outta whack as you paint yourself to be." He brushes his nose at the comment of his taste in women. Oh if Zaki knew, Jones has absolutely no idea how old is Elena, he probably thinks she's in college or something. "A lesser man would hold it against ya, that 'beating' your girls did." The Funky Fighter tries not to laugh considering that it was Elena that was giving Zaki's girl a run for her money "Wasn't cool at all. But I'm a reasonable cat, violence begets violence after all. So instead of doing anything drastic and stupid..you know..the kinna stuff Daniel would do. I've come here to hear ya out."
"Tell me Zaki, what will it take for you to drop all this nonsense? I may be willing to help ya out!"
And speaking of helping, Jones suddenly zeroes in on Nezumi having trouble lifting that crate. Heroic mode activating he scoots towards whilst whistling "Yo! Needs some help with that, toots?" Apparently that's Jones idea of making himself at home.
Aggression is Zaki's mother tongue, and it's her nectar. When the afro-bedecked action star's stance shifts, his posture tightening upon the ever-ready springs of his well-honed musculature, she doesn't echo with an adjustment of her own. Aoi hasn't stopped being prepared to throw a punch since... well, perhaps since some of the moments in her meeting with a certain shinobi earlier this same day, her guard lowered insofar as it ever is. Even then, though, she's expecting violence. Part of her desires it. To lash out, to cause pain...
Hell, perhaps even to feel it. The sukeban isn't a masochist at heart, but there's a very important part of her that thrives on personal hardship - and overcoming the realms of agony she finds herself in when pitched against either a better foe, or a sufficient number of her inferiors. Without being tested she'd never become better, faster, or stronger; without pain she'd be no more potent than the little girl her parents wanted. Which is why before Jones curbs his own fighting instinct, she's almost daring him not to.
"Hmph." But then he does, and her own body releases a tiny portion of pent-up tension; scarce enough to be noticeable, but enough to count for her. It's another amnesty, is it? Another stalemate between she and another with similar goals but radically divergent means and methods. Unlike many, he actually earned a modicum of her respect on the battlefield, slotting himself into the small number of people she'll at least tolerate-- if only for so long as it takes to hold that rematch, to decide who's truly better. And that's the crux of it. His outdated speech patterns, his flamboyant attire, all of that drivel? It doesn't bother her, just washes past.
Leaving the remaining fact that Mr. Jones is simply not her kind of person. He's a 'reasonable cat'. A good man, perhaps? Even a forgiving one? And he's part of the world she despises beneath any veneer of won regard, not just an adult - the ruling class - but one who's experienced wealth and fame. In more than one way, he represents and supports the system she ultimately wishes to see torn down and replaced.
But despite all of that, what happens next is...
"I'm sorry."
Well, it couldn't be less easier to predict.
The scarlet-haired sukeban actually utters those words without mocking or any gesture to gainsay their heartfelt truth, offering it up with only the motivation that he's referenced a meeting she feels deserves it. Kurumi's exploits filtered back to her in both their refined and raw form; elaborated by the girl herself, turned into a typical tale of gangland glory, and also the hard, hilarious facts. Or hilarious to Zaki. She's well aware that other people don't hold the same sort of dark humour, not finding amusement when there are bruises and broken bones, damaged feelings and bruised egos. When /people/ are the victims.
"What was happening before," she keeps her voice low for a moment, ignoring the question as Jones moves to help her subordinate - who accepts it with a glad smile, her entire attitude and demeanour entirely unlike the sukeban's, in almost every possible way. "It wasn't right. We came to this city for a reason, to get revenge for a slight against us, and the people of Southtown. Far as I'm concerned, that's a damn valid reason to start a fight... but it shouldn't have spread to the innocent like it did." She scoffs slightly, vulpine eyes rolling, "Like anyone's fucking innocent. Whatever. I don't feel a need to justify myself to you, or anyone, but I'll apologize for something that shouldn't have happened. Kurumi stepped out of line."
There's something forbidding about the way she says that, a suggestion that maybe a punishment has been arranged - though ascertaining the truth of it is made unlikely as the sukeban sweeps right on with a shrug of her shoulders, glance flickering briefly to the grateful Nezumi.
"Clearly you missed the newsflash. My girls are pulling out of this dump. I'll be staying behind to hunt down the bastard who started this mess... and I'll be finishing it, one way or another. I've got allies, Jones, who don't have shit to do with the riots and the violence and the stealing... other people who just want justice to get served. Two of mine have been strung up and tortured by a colleague of the man called 'Abobo'. They're not the first to go missing, wouldn't be the first to get /killed/ if it comes to it," It's hard to spot, but there may just be a hesitant wobble in her voice at that, "But they'll be the last if we can help it. If you want to /help/ then stay out of our way. My girls'll be out of yours. I've not been able to contact Daniel for a while so beyond that, maybe you could hunt him down, help him out with whatever he's doing..."
She tails off, shaking her head slowly, in doubt at her own allegiance with the detective. A hesitant moment passes where she wonders - is it enough, to keep throwing more manpower toward an ally she's not even sure is willing to help more than he has. Hell, maybe he's dead himself. Suddenly she curses.
"Fuck it. How much do you really care, Jones? Enough to risk your life? Enough to give it up, for a city?"
Well it's good to see at least someone 'round here appreciate his efforts, not everyone could be a stuck up egocentric teenage girl! Jones returns the smile just as candidly and wobbles along as he helps the school girl out with the heavy crate. Like Zaki, Johnny Jones is someone that craves the glorious dance of fighting, but for very different reasons. It's not about pain for him, but about having fun, fighting is fun which is the fundamental difference between the scarlet haired girl gangster and the groovy funky fighter. They are, as it so happens, complete opposites.
Zaki was born primp and proper to high class society and willingly rough up her life style.
Jones started out in poverty in the tough streets and rose up to fame and fortune.
Which is why, Zaki doesn't seem to judge Jones properly and assumes he has always been the well off guy he is now. A key point that is pretty crucial when trying to understand the gaudy guy that is Mista' Jones.
"No worries, my girl---" Err, woops, can't divulge that kind of information just yet Jones! "My /friend/ heh, my friend is a pretty tough gal. She's fine, I think it spiced up the evening a bit too, heh."
So, no harm no foul right? Jones will move on and let Zaki handle her own affairs, it's what she thinks he'll do anyway, right?
"They did what!?"
Nope. You see, Zaki may think that Jones is part of the elite. That type of adult that wants to keep the status quo at all costs and part of the world that she hates. The uppity, the high class, the bourgeoisie.
She couldn't possibly be more wrong.
"I didn't know they were kidnapping peeps! That is some bullshit! Oh, if you'd pardon my French, Nezumi was it?" Politeness aside, truth of the matter is that fame or no fame, Johnny Jones is at his core a hero. When given the choice if he wants to keep his fame or wants to do what is right, he will inevitably always pick the latter. And if it takes such a grand scandal to see that the culprits are brought to justice, then Zaki is prefectly justified on her means. He's glad, to a certain extent, that it wasn't just some high school drama that was motivating the sukeban.
How much does care? Well, the answer should be obvious, and frankly, Jones is somewhat offended that Zaki wouldn't know of his true heroic nature. "Pft, of course babe, I'll risk anything to see that you and your girls are safe. It's what I do." Just like that, there is no hesitation in his heart, or doubt in his mind, for him, the choice is obvious and he is so casual with his answer that there can almost be no doubt of his sincerity. It is an undeniable truth to Jones that evil must be faced wherever it rears its ugly head. Much like he did with Shadaloo's invasion, he is willing to do the same here. If Zaki gives him his blessing anyway.
"Look out after Danny?? Umm..are you sure there's something else more important you need me to do? Like track this Abobo guy?" Abobo....why does that name sound familiar? Johnny thinks that he should know who the guy is.
A working class hero is something to be.
Though it's a type Zaki has never truly understood; to be willing to give up everything when you have nothing? Seems almost too easy. Like choosing to take the winding downward path rather than attempt to climb-- but then the converse argument leads to a condemntation of her own decisions, that in choosing to subvert a system that's handed her life upon a silver platter she's in fact being ungrateful and selfish. There are thousands, millions, of people who would desire the lifestyle she can theoretically afford, and here she is slumming it in a broken industrial derelict, stained with sweat, blood and the dirt of a beggar's lot.
Still, she's watching Jones with interest to gauge his reaction to her question. It's an important one; crucial to what she's considering saying next, to the third dramatic leap she's made today. Aoi may have been born with a silver spoon rammed halfway down her gullet, but she's long since choked on it, building herself a new identity in a bid to escape the glamour and the wealth, the privileges of a fine education and the greatest personal security that money can buy. She's not at real risk yet, though - if she were waylaid by the American authorities she would be bailed out via the courts in quick enough time. The scandal may occur, but...
What would she care? In spite of this, her attitude to the battle unfolding in Sunshine City is much like that of the most determined, destitute freedom fighter. She's publicly challenged the authorities, thrown a gauntlet in the face of not only her rival gang leader but the very system /he/ is seeking to destroy. Their common ground, it is, but not one she's willing to share by any means. Her life she lays down if she must, because for her this isn't about only Sunshine-- it's bigger, stretching to the entire globe beyond. Zaki didn't believe in fighting the war because it affected other people, wasn't a local concern and had nothing to do with her own intentions. A world ruled by Shadaloo would be terrible. But the world as it is isn't much better.
Change though... change can't always begin at home. This is just step one.
"You really want to save a bunch of kids you've got no stake in? That you've had no love for?" The counter-question isn't incredulous, rather it's genuinely probing, as Aoi continues to stare into the impenetrable dark shades of the Groove Master, seeking some insight into his being. What's most disconcerting is that she... feels it in him, almost, hears it in his voice and sees it in his stance. When they fought, she felt a similar resonance; it's stupid to believe in 'good' or 'evil' but insofar as such things might exist, Jones did seem like a person worth something. She could never truly LIKE him, but allies aren't to be liked. They're to be trusted. "And you'd throw away everything, if it means making that bit of difference to the world?"
She's loathe to admit, but his conviction is exactly what she believes is needed for change.
Without sacrifice, nothing will ever alter or evolve. All change requires a catalyst.
"You're an idiot."
But there's laughter in her voice as she says it, head shaking once more, the jagged sweep of her ponytail lashing back and forth behind her. A faint rattling of chain resounds from the binding at its base, a curious mirror of Jones' own belt-mounted nunchaku. Those vulpine eyes have taken on a measure of warmth now that almost too many are getting to see, but Aoi Himezaki was bidden to grow and change... whatever catalyst she's found, something has begun to work in her brain that was never there before. Bobbing her head in a nod, she turns from the kung fu master abruptly, bending her lithe frame to root briefly in the shattered garbage of a broken television set lying on the hard concrete behind. She comes up bearing a shining metal disc. A DVD.
"Take this. Watch it. Commit it to memory. Feel the rage that I feel. Then, if you have what it takes to fight - /really/ fight, with every bit of passion in your damned soul, for a cause and for a better future, return here tonight at 1am. Come alone. But bring your strength, Jones. Leave everything else behind-- fear, doubt, and thoughts of anything but bringing this fucked-up mess to a screaming standstill. It's time for Sunshine City to feel the winds of change. It might not make us popular, but..."
Her head tips to one side, eyes flaring with cold fire, "We don't need to be popular. Just right."
"Aw come, gimme a little credit!"
Zaki may have judged wrong at first thinking of him as nothing but a fake hero that desperately clung to what little fame he had, a wash out from an age long past that selfishly would sacrifice the good of the world just to remain popular in the media. And although that may have been ultimately wrong, truth of the matter is Zaki is right in one aspect of Jonesy's character.
He really is an idiot.
The Groove Master just seems to be...too honest, to a fault, a spirit from a more innocent age, a man of very simple ideals, but ones that he defends fiercely. He doesn't bother with the details, he is not plagued by petty politics, his motivation is almost laughably pure in a day and age where almost everyone has ulterior motives or are only willing to do anything if there's something in it for them.
Jones is willing to sacrifice all he has to save a few souls he doesn't even know. But the reason why may surprise Zaki. It's not because he's serving a higher calling, or vengeance against a wrong in his past, or even because there's someone telling him to.
He does what he does, because it's what the hero would do in the movies.
And everything he has learned, he's learned from watching Kung Fu flicks.
"Won't be the first time anyway, I ain't planning for it to be my last. Just rest assured that when trouble comes this way, you can always count on Mista' Jones to give a helping hand. It is, as I said, what I do." He's got a business card and everything!
Once Zaki shows a side of herself Jones had never seen, he sets the heavy crate down with Nezumi and wheezes slightly as the heavy burden is done with. Wiping his forehead with his yellow sleeves to walk towards the violent sukeban and take the offered DVD.
So it seems there's no going back, it's his last chance to wise up and back out of this madness before he gets himself into real trouble. Can anyone even imagine the scandal of Johnny Jones hanging out with Zaki's gang? He has a lot more to lose than Aoi may even realize!
But he does not back out. Johnny smiles up and lowers his shades so that his brown eyes meet Zaki's chilling gaze, so that she may see the sincerity in him and winks.
"Being popular is overrated anyway."
He should know, considering his outdated tastes.
"I'll be there, and I'll bring my ass kicking shoes with me, rest assured."
Who would have thought that Jones was such a radical?
Later that day, as Jones hastily returns home to watch the DVD, he truly does experience the rage that Zaki warned him about. His eyes widen in horror at the obscene imagery before and curses..
"Sunnuva--!"
He ejects the disc out and shakes it furiously.
"This is a freaking Blu-Ray DVD!! Gatdamn!!"
What is this world coming to indeed.
Log created on 18:08:36 06/24/2012 by MrJones, and last modified on 10:19:09 06/25/2012.