Description: A bewildered Fuerte leaves the hospital after his meeting with Yoshimitsu to discover a much different world he left before he was knocked out unconscious by Duke. Metro City lays in ruins and what's all this about Shadaloo coming back to try and take over the world? Wasn't Vega dead? The one who clears all these mysteries for him is none other than his former foe, Damnd. But his answers only leave him with more questions. Where is Brett and Fuji? And why did Duke decided to side with Major Haggar and the heroes of Metro City!? He doesn't know, but according to Damnd some weed might help out with that.
With the disturbance in Metro City squashed, and the opening of Capital 7, one of Metro City's most dangerous criminals has decided its time to celebrate. Not much of a gambler, he nonetheless sits in the bar, with a fruity cocktail from his mother country and a big place of barbecue ribs. Damnd chows down on the smoked, barbecue smothered pork with a big grin on his face, as happy as a pig in filth. He's by himself, having elected to ditch his questionable companions in Mad Gear. For one night, at least.
Now that's what El Fuerte calls a fiesta!! Imagine his surprise when he walked out of the hospital to see that half Metro City had been completely decimated. And to make matters worse, he had missed it all!!
With his only source of information being the enigmatic Yoshimitsu (and this means he had no information at all) El Fuerte decides to brave the war torn streets to find what happened while he was down and out.
The luchador is not aware that Shadaloo had a hand in this, he is still under the impression that Duke was responsible for this! In the end though his ignorance works on his favor since he decides to look up the grand opening of Capital 7, a notorious hang out place for criminal minds. No doubt Duke and his cronies will be there to celebrate what they did to Metro City.
The Luchador enters the casino ready to start brawling the first goon that so much as looks at him the wrong way, but his wrestling craving will have to wait as /something/ catches his nose. He sniffs the air and heads toward where he can smell a barbecue going on, unwittingly heading in Damnd's direction.
Damnd sets aside bones stripped of meat on a seperate plate, taking a moment to suck the sauce off all ten fingers, one after the other. He takes a deep slurp of his drink, apparently a frozen strawberry daiquri. As he sits at the bar, pouring tender pork and blended red booze down his throat, he catches El Fuerte's reflection on the mirror behind the bar. He turns around, a big grin on his face. "'ey, it's Batmanuel! What be goin' down, rude boy?" he bellows over the background ambient noise.
"Compadre." El Fuerte greets Damnd, his relationship with the gangster being tenuous enough that will merit a cordial salute at least. Because while, yes Damnd did try to sell drugs to children, and yes, he is one of those Duke's goons he swore to beat the crap out of in the previous pose, he is the one that lead him to Duke in the first place. The rasta man is pretty mercurial, but in this case that's an asset to El Fuerte's cause since that means he can be reasoned with....most of the time.
"I got to meet your jefe, El Duke." He says with snide grin, getting closer so he doesn't have to yell over the blaring casino chatter. "He drugged my food and put me to sleep for weeks. Did he tell you?"
Damnd hears this revelation and laughs, tossing his bleach blond dreadlocks backwards. "He drugged you, did he? I and I t'ink dat's /hee-larious/!" Laughing more, he picks up his daiquiri and gestures at El Fuerte with it. "You already saw my 'jefe', ese, an' I bet he wasn't happy wit' you. You're lucky you got off dat easy - he coulda put you in da hospital." He turns back around to slurp his daiquri, before picking up another rib.
"He did put me in the hospital!!!" El Fuerte can be pretty mercurial himself, when Damnd makes light of the situation by mocking him with his signature raspy laugh, the laughter that was immortalized when he kidnapped Major Haggar's daughter, the luchador loses his composure and starts yelling a little more loudly than necessary. "I just got out today to see that half the City is in rubble! What the hell happened?? Did you and Duke did this!?"
Damnd laughs even louder, not intimidated by El Fuerte's anger. Even when Duke gets pissed off, Damnd is never afraid, and Duke could do a number on him. Keeping his trademark cool, he replies, "Dude, we didn't do dat. You really been asleep for dis whole time? Shadaloo tried to take de city over. Hell, me and Duke and my boys helped kick dem out. So don't be tellin' me dat I wrecked my home."
And then Damnd speaks the magic word, the name of the organization that must not be named. El Fuerte's eyes widen and his body leans back looking at Damnd as if he had just grown two heads. Shadaloo? Is he serious?? Of course, while it's a very real possibility that Shadaloo could simply come back from the dead to wreak havoc across the land, Damnd is...well..he's Damnd, a notorious junkie, which means El Fuerte won't believe him immediately without some proof. He crosses his arms smugly and raises an eyebrow.
"What do you take me for? A estupido? Shadaloo is no more after the previous war. In fact, me and a couple of mis amigos got together and we kicked Vega's culo. You need to quit smoking your wares, Damnd."
Damnd narrows his eyes behind his blue shade as he looks over his shoulder at the luchadore. "Estupido? Yes, you muy estupido. Dey also tried to take over South Korea - maybe you should check a newspaper, mon. What you think, I'm smoking space grass? Fuerte, it takes a lot more den a luchadore and his dumb buddies to keep Vega down."
Try to take over South Korea? Vega still alive? What is all this nonsense that is Damnd talking about?? El Fuerte is about to call him out on it again, lifting his finger and opening his mouth to speak before he pauses. Now that he thinks of it, he doubts that Damnd and Duke are powerful enough to lay waste to the entire city. He is not arrogant enough to think that just by knocking him out they had got rid of the one obstacle that prevent them to take over the city, in the grand scheme of things, El Fuerte knows he is not that important. There is something else amiss here.
The newspaper... "Hold that thought!" El Fuerte bolts out Capital 7 with blurring speed and returns to where Damnd is not but a few seconds later holding a newspaper. "Well, mierda!!" He says as he reads the head lines "Vega really did come back....and you helped take him down!" Now he just feels silly. "....huh..you think you know some people..but I knew Duke wasn't all that bad even if he did drug me. Where is he now? Do you know?"
Damnd grins at Fuerte, setting another bone aside onto his secondary plate. "See? Just because we sell de drugs, doesn't mean we all bad! De drug dealer's your friend, mon. We sell nature's hugs!" Damnd explains, maybe just a little delusional. "I don't keep track of Duke. He talks to me when he needs it, not de other way around. If you want to find him, maybe you should check out de Southtown. Dat's where he's from."
El Fuerte grunts and sets the newspaper aside. "I never said you were evil because you sell drugs. This may surprise you but I am a supporter of their legalization even if I do not use them myself. It is the crime that comes with it that I do not approve." Maybe not so delusional after all, Damnd gives a solid argument in Fuerte's mind. Though then again this is Fuerte's mind we're talking about and he's not all out there himself. "Southtown? Hmm...looks like that is my next destination, unless I somehow manage to find Brett and Bartistsu Mask around here." He worries suddenly for his friends, wonder if they were the ones that busted him out of Duke's prison in the first place.
Closing his eyes to think for a moment, the luchador opens them now looking resolute with a new purpose set ahead of him! He'll go to Southtown to investigate what prompted Duke of all people to help in the war effort. But first... "Hey! Since I'm here and you're here... do you have that coca leaves I asked you for?"
Damnd grins a bit. "Actually, because of you, I've been selling de coca leaves. One sec." He reaches inside his vest, then pulls out a baggy of brown leaves, setting them down on the table. "Hey, tell me, Fuerte...You cook, right, mon? You ever t'ink of making weed butter? It's a flavor experience all its own. T'ink of it like beer battered deep frying!" Damnd says, finishing his ribs and slurping down the rest of his daquiri. He waves down the bartender.
Excellent! This ought to help with his recent headaches due to sedative Duke gave him. When Damnd pulls out the totally not sketchy brown bag with leaves, El Fuerte looks to his sides to make sure no one is watching him, rubs his palms and takes the bag setting a wad of money on its place. "Gracias!" He tucks the bag on his back pocket and it somehow fits, don't ask how, those luchador pants have like their own portable dimension. When the topic suddenly turns about cooking, El Fuerte is very happy to oblige. "Yes, I have tried and done before actually." To his defense, El Fuerte will put just about /anything/ on his cooking. "But I can't sell at the restaurant since it's illegal, you know?" Ain't that a darn shame.
"Dat's de Man holding you down, Fuerte," Damnd says, as the bartender comes over. "I'll take a daiquri, and some seafood. How about...Fried calamari? Make it spicy, mon!" he tells the bartender, the man moving over to the bar's computerized cash register to tap in the order. Damnd takes the wad of money, slipping it into his vest. "See, Fuerte, you ain't a square."
Just as long as no one takes any photos of him buying stuff from Damnd, El Fuerte's restaurant has enough of a bad reputation as it is. The last thing it needs is someone trying to black mail him by saying he puts weed on his food. "Pfft!" El Fuerte scoffs at the notion of him being a square, he may be a tecnico but he's a very reckless one. "You don't reach the glory if you follow the straight and narrow path amigo! You have to take risks and shady routes sometimes!" Besides coca leaves are totally legal, he knows his rights even if he's not an American citizen! Speaking of rights and good ol America. "Oh!! I bet Mayor Haggar had something to do in the war effort too did he? I should probably speak to him too." For now he restrains from trying to mooch off Damnd's fried calamri, he doesn't wanna look like he's desperate even if hospital food is still as terrible as ever.
"Mayor Haggar helped us fight de Mad Gear, jah mon," Damnd says, as the bartender operates the blender, making the dealer a fresh daquiri. "So did dat dickhead boyfriend of Jessica's. Dey had some messed up people - de fight I was at, we barely won. Dem Shadaloo goons, mon, dey crazy. Too bad you missed it." He grins. "It was a helluva fight."
"I mean, helped us fight de Shadaloo."
El Fuerte is just gonna file that little slip of the tongue on the fact that Damnd is probably as high as a kite.
But nevertheless, Damnd gives out crucial information. If Mayor Haggar and some of the original Metro Three helped in the fight, then there's more people he can talk to, more people that might know what happened to his friends. "Yes..I've fought some of them before. They are ruthless and fearless..." The luchador whispers to himself. After Southtown he might have to go to South Korea, perhaps Kim and MayLee can shed some light of the situation.
"Did you by any chance see a kid with a hockey stick fighting? Or maybe a woman in a tuxedo? I'm trying to see if they're safe."
"Nope, just me, Cody, and Haggar," Damnd responds. He receives his new daquiri and takes a slurp. "Dey brought in all sorts of gangs from out of town. But dey'se pussies - it takes a Mad Gear to be a ballah in Metro City, you dig me, mon?" he says, waiting for his calamari to arrive. Damnd doesn't mind shooting the proverbial shit while he chows down on delicious casino food.
How ironic, Haggar and Cody fighting alongside Damnd and his posse, now El Fuerte is really annoyed that he missed that event. There will be other battles where he can prove his mettle, for now, the important thing is that he must find Fuji and Brett, and it seems that the next stop is probably going to be Haggar. El Fuerte grunts when Damnd goes to sing praises about Mad Gear, the gang that he had been fighting for all these long months to save Metro City. Now he just feels like a fool.
But the luchador will persevere, just like lucha itself, he will be get back up when knocked down. "I'm sure." It's all he can say to Damnd as he glances at the big Rasta. "Well amigo, it was....good to see you're alright." The luchador feels very strange saying that to Damnd, it's true that they are in somewhat friendly terms, but he always considered him an enemy. "Thanks for the leaves." He says moving away from the bar, though not before handing Damnd a piece of paper with his phone number. "Here, just in case you lost it. I must move quickly since I am worried for my team, you let me know if you guys need....my help....or something...." Now he just feels awkward, him helping Mad Gear? He supposes it's better than Shadaloo, but still...
Damnd accepts the piece of paper between his fore and middle fingers, slipping it into his beat up old vest. He grins at El Fuerte, showing off a couple gold teeth. One extra since Fuerte saw him last, probably lost battling Shadaloo. "Of course, mon. Peace." He turns back around, just as his calamari arrives. He grabs a fork, thanking the barkeep and digging in.
El Fuerte returns the peace sign as he turns to leave, still thinking that the world he awoke to is mighty strange in comparison.
"Adios amigo." He says as he heads for the exit, munching on a few coca leaves on the way out.
....They are totally legal! Stop looking at him like that!
Log created on 20:47:03 09/07/2012 by ElFuerte, and last modified on 22:23:02 09/07/2012.