Description: Howard Rust has a chance run-in with the littlest Psycho Soldier (she's sixteeeeeen!) Momoko in Metro City during one of her street performances. Dynamic social time ensues!
It's a warm, somewhat humid, day in Metro City, USA today... the sun is on its way down and many people are either getting off of work now or being released from school. Due to the time of day, many of the city streets are positively packed with cars and the sidewalks are likewise overflowing with people. It makes for an incredibly noisy ambience all too normal for one of the biggest cities in northern America.
In this particular section of town, near the hotel, however... a fairly large gathering of civilians is encircling a portion of the sidewalk and are causing a bit of ruckus... apparently enthralled by something that has captured their attention. Were one to draw closer to the crowd of spectators, one might notice the noise they were making was in fact cheering and clapping. And nestled within the tightly packed circle of spectators is an energetic little girl, performing handstands, cartwheels, and various flashy acrobatic maneuvers in time to the upbeat music from a nearby jukebox. She's all smiles, and seems to be engaging the crowd every bit as much as they are engaging her... moving from one side to the other with the pace of her maneuvers growing steadily quicker and more elaborate with the excitement of the crowd. Every so often, after a particularly flashy maneuver, a trail of bright blue stars seems to manifest from out of nowhere... exciting the crowd even more so than normal.
"Weeee...! ~"
Earlier in the morning in a completely bizarre 3 AM local timeslot, Metro City was graced with one of the more notable bouts in recent memory despite the highly unfortunate scheduling time. Metro City hero Carlos Miyamoto, aging war hero Howard Rust. Swords versus pipe, veterans of fighting through hordes, all the excitement one could muster in a timeslot largely dominated by infomercials. Someone must have been making a beginning bid to render them extinct... but at what cost?
He's got a flight going across the country before a final one back to Southtown later in the evening. Checked out of the nearby hotel after sleeping most of the day away, he ambles onto the lively streets with a grumbling stomach, a number of bandages, and - as always - that mess of dark purple on his scalp that continues its futile masquerade as hair.
He grouses aloud as the noise of cheering people elicits something of a small headache, rubbing the side of his head as he walks at his trademark slow pace. Just gotta walk a few blocks to get to where the cheaper cab service operates, he reminds himself in thought, he's still pretty certain this hotel royally robbed him for a single night's stay as it is. The popping of his joints is muffled by the cheering of the crowd. Noise-laden headache or no, the shortest way to where he needs to walk goes through said crowd.
"'scuse me," he softly asks as he tries to work through them. Given how it can be hard to hear his voice and they're already loud as they are, well, it's an uphill battle to even find open air again. One of his knees suddenly twinge in pain as he comes out towards the inner parts of the crowd encircling Momoko, a wince on his face as he stops to flex out his leg and give it a ginger rub with his left hand.
When he looks back up from one of his recurring aches and ailments, he catches a familiar sight coming out of a particularly colorful handstand as the cheering continues to rage all around.
Is that...?
"H-Hey," he tries to speak up, but this is futility among a crowd so loud, "uh... Mimiru?" Was that her name? Or was he thinking of someone else? No, started with the letter 'M,' had three syllables... he shakes his right hand, pointer finger extended as he tries to remember.
Though Rust's creaking bones futile attempt to announce his presence may have certainly failed due to the loudness of the gathered throngs, the equally loud grotesqueness of that purple toupee upon his scalp is too much even for the enthusiasm of the crowd to overcome. Flipping back onto her feet, landing just a foot or so from Howard Rust, the diminuitive sprite with messy brown hair then stares up at him with a look momentary confusion.
That's when she hears it, just barely, as the crowds excitement begins to wane... 'Mimiru'... and adopts a childishly pouty expression. "Momoko!", she cries... and pumps her tiny fist into the air defiantly. How could he forget her??? She never forgot him, but maybe that's more because of the toupee than anything else. WHO could forget THAT thing???
She responds to his pointing with pointing of her own, "Howard Rust! What are you doing here? ... Are you hurt?" ... It's at this time, a young punk wearing a red varsity T in the background shouts, "Hey, old man! Get out of the way!" and to which an older woman mumbles something about respect for elders.
"...Are you okay?" The diminuitive, chipmunk faced, girl wearing a concerned expression wanders a bit closer to the older man, seemingly ignoring the crowd for the time being even as that upbeat pop music continues to play in the background and the crowd noise begins to die out. "You're bandaged up, what happened? Did somebody hurt you?" It's pointedly obvious Momoko probably doesn't know about his fight, but the littlest Psycho Soldier didn't tend to watch TV too much even were she up at such a crazy hour!
"Momoko. Momoko! Y-Yeah," the older man coughs once in affirmation, partially sheepishly, partially from all the dusty dirty grimy urban air that's finding its way into his lungs. The angry shouting sees him turn his head over his shoulder, shake his head, and take a step to the side as he lets the question of how 'okay' he is hang for a moment.
"Just a, just a match at 3 AM," he stammers a bit as he straightens himself out, stretching out his leg to work out another kink in that knee. "That guy worked me over something, uh, something fierce." It wasn't one of his greatest bouts, but despite whatever fame he's garnered out when his life - and others' - are on the line, his actual professional record in fighting has been genuinely mediocre when it comes to the straight win/loss record. Fights that go down to the wire, but not as much in his favor as perhaps one would hope.
"'m not interrupting you, am I? Fancy seeing you out... uh, 'round here." It's a genuine surprise to run into her after so long, all the way out here. A pleasant surprise for him that belies the general fatigue that marks his voice and body language. He's had a long day.
"No! Of course not!", she replies before turning around and doing another handstand and launching herself feet first toward that old jukebox nearby in the background. After a brief journey through the air, she lands upon her feet again and drops low to one knee in order to turn the black plastic knob to 'off' with a click - abruptly stopping the music... and the show. Waving energetically around, the spritely little girl gives her 'bestest' smile to the crowd and announces that, yes, "That's all for today! Thank you for your time! Momoko loves you all, k?!" ... and finally blows a small kiss... eliciting clapping and momentary excitement before the throngs begins to disperse.
With that done, she then promptly cartwheels once back across the hot sidewalk in an exaggerated fashion before turning it into a hand spring... that sends her flying in a manner that almost makes it look like she might crash into the older man! ... But instead lands softly a foot or so short of him and squats down closer to the ground like a kitten ready to spring at the slightest provocation. Her big brown eyes smile up at the older man again, then, just a moment before she begins to address him once more, "Oooh, a fight! Was it fun?"
For a man that has faced down numerous frightened men armed with military weapons, military hardware, people empowered by a malevolent force of nature, and even Vega himself, one would think 'a small child threatening to collide into you' would rank really low on the list of things one Howard Rust would find dangerous to his continued well being.
Humorously, this line of thought is immediately proven false as he raises his left forearm and tenses his fist in his trademark defensive pose that has seen him survive such incredible blows, the hiss of clenched teeth in brief until a moment later where she looks up at him with the joyous glee of a child whose worldview still retains wonder and optimism. He lowers his arm with relief (though there's a series of disconcerting crackles in pretty much every joint involved) as he lightly exhales. Sheesh, why am I so on edge, he all but has to ask himself.
"Well, uh, I was... y'know, looking forward to it, I mean... didn't know the guy all too well, just knew that, that he was into swords and such. Carlos Miyamoto... no, Kevin Miya-- wait, yeah, Carlos, that's his name." He clears his throat as he goes to recline against the nearby wall. Where Momoko is full of energy, Howard has all the makings of a man who is just ready to go home. "Sorry if 'm out of it, just... yeah." He nods his head once. "Some really good swordplay, 's like... dunno why he's not more well known." He makes a few vague motions with his right arm, "got me through this," he makes a slow lunging moment with his right arm, "and well, I... well, wouldn't say fun, not... bad, but," he struggles for words as he straightens up from against the wall a bit.
He never really finishes that sentence as he goes to a different one. "What 'bout you? After... after Korea, I mean, hell. Wouldn't wish any kid had to... had to go through that." She's sure smiling and seeming content with life, equal parts disturbing and relieving after how all the stresses wore on his late friend Quon. Hedging somewhat more on relief - clearly she's a very strong girl despite her age and stature.
It's really no wonder why he braced himself, in retrospect.
The young, spritely, capoerista watches the older man recline against the nearby wall, her enthusiasm restrained like a tightly coiled spring under the heavy weight of her manners. Though she'd ordinarily be bouncing around energetically, she felt as though perhaps some restraint were perhaps in order given how tired he seemed. Older people were difficult for Momoko to harmonize with in that regard... her own energy level was pretty much always peaked.
"It sure sounds like it was fun!", she replies to his comment about whether or not he enjoyed it. It certainly sounded like he might've. And, despite his next inquiry, she momentarily continues along the same train of thought, "I love to fight all different kinds of people whenever I can! Fighting is like dancing, it can be really beautiful and moving when its good!" Her tone hits a high note at the tail end of that sentence, with her standing upright again immediately after having said tha and proceeding to sway lightly from one foot to the other in time with an unheard song. Seems she couldn't restrain that energy too long...
"...And you know...", she stops suddenly... with a long pause after in which she just stares at him cutely... before dropping a bombsdhell, "...I almost forgot about Korea!" She seems all too serious about that too, perhaps that would be /why/ she never seems to be weighed down... her memory of negative things is fleeting. "...Hehe. I hope they're doing okay these days! ~"
Sometimes it's just really hard for Howard to keep pace as Momoko sums up her thoughts on the matter. Probably true that, at heart, he enjoyed the fight, despite the palpable aura of tiredness, maybe a little disappointment, and overall old-ness for being a man in his early forties.
He nods along to what she says about enjoying all the new experiences of fighting different people. "Well, yeah, you gotta, uh, you gotta get to learn how to deal with... with lots of different approaches." He stutters along the affirmation. Rolling his left shoulder a bit to work out a couple more kinks from when he hardened up against a collision that didn't happen, he pushes up off the wall to her cutesy stare. All the hope that they're doing okay.
"Well... all of Asia got it pretty rough," he muses as he remembers all the crazy close calls from those two wars - not to mention even America here which had faced invasion! - and there's that momentary sadness of things he saw through in between adrenaline-fuelled fights for his life and others. His shoulders slump, a noted discomfort on the subject. "Yeah... gotta, gotta hope things'll be better."
He knows that Vega can and will show up again. Death can't stop him, and that's a scary fact to live with after so many brushes with mortality. "Uh, hey," he suddenly speaks up as he motions forward with his right arm forward, "I, I need to grab some dinner, thinkin', uh, Subway or some such, you... you wanna come with? Or, or are you expecting any of the others, I mean... Athena, rest of 'em." She is a very young girl out in one of the more dangerous cities around, after all, he doubts she's truly unattended. "If they want something too, I could, uh, probably spring or something."
He doesn't know of Kensou's appetite if he's present. Howard would totally regret extending that offer if he was!! "I, I haven't seen Munin or... what's-her-name, starts with J," he snaps his fingers, "Julia in a while, after... after all that."
"I do too.", she admits, in reply to him saying he really hopes things get better for Asia. During the brief pause, when his mind returns to the fiend who haunts almost everyone's nightmares including hers, she adds, "I always wish people happiness! Never anything less!" And she tries, in her own way, to bring it to people when she can... like today.
At his asking about dinner, however, she's quickly off of that topic and bounding toward him with all of the energy her little body had been restraining until now! She even leaps at him, attempting to grab his arm if he'll let her, and pull it close. "Sure! I can pay for mine though, I'm a big girl!"
At his asking about the other Psycho Soldiers, she cranes her neck up at him inquisitively. "...? Oh! No, I'm all alone just now! Just entertaining some people for fun! It's my hobby! ... You wanna dance with me sometime??" ...And to the bit about Julia and Munin, she doesn't really say anything. She didn't know Munin, and Julia was almost as vague to her by now as she was to Rust. Maybe somewhat out of spite for calling her a little girl, maybe not! Who knows?]
Was Howard really filled with as much good cheer and desire as a kid? He can't say that'd be the case, but in a way his childhood is so far behind him now that it's kind of hard to remember a lot of the finer details any more. (On top of who knows how many knocks to the head!) It is, perhaps, ultimately reassuring that someone is able to manage such good cheer even after all they've been through.
He doesn't resist the arm pull. He almost doesn't even really notice any real pulling sensation. With a lack of any resistance, it's easy enough for her to at least keep a hold of it as she leaps at him. Probably an adorable sight for onlookers, watching a little kid want to hold herself so close to who is considered a largely upstanding guy (if... one with such a very strange, misguided idea as to what constitutes hair).
The mention that she's all alone really jerks at the responsible adult within him. Really, her, all alone? Sure she has proven she could take care of herself on some level, but... she is still a very young child! He visibly winces briefly. Maybe it's a good thing she's staying close as he lets her hold his arm. "Dance? Well, I... I haven't really, uh, done that in years," he humors her in good cheer, "maybe, I'll, uh, take you up on that later." He's probably going to regret this, but, no harm, right? Maybe? Possibly?!
He walks at a pretty slow pace. If anything, Momoko might end up having to try to drag him to pick up the pace if she's feeling particularly impatient. "But, uh, really, I, I should be okay for the both of us, for Subway," he tries to reassure her as he clears back up his throat. Man, something is just trying to pick a fight with his lungs today. "How's... how's everyone else? Athena, all them." He only got to meet her very briefly in extremely life-threatening circumstances, but she seemed as gracious and, well, good as she always came off as. "Anything big comin' up?"
Momoko never really has paid too much attention to what people thought of her, unless it was either extremely positive or extremely negative. That much would probably be evident in the fact that, if anyone /was/ looking at them for her grabbing his arm like she did, she wasn't paying attention. Not to them, anyway, her focus was still entirely on the older man.
Despite her normally boundless energy, she seems content to slow her walking pace to match his... at least for a little while. "...Okay! I'll make you keep your word!", she teases, wagging a finger at him and sticking her tongue out just the teensiest bit before quickly pulling it back and smiling brightly. "I love dancing, and music! It's good for your mind, body, and soul!" She wasn't going to say it, but it crossed her mind he could probably use a bit of a workout for two out of those three. She wouldn't hold him to anytime soon though, he was obviously not in any shape for it.
When he offers to pay for hers, she shakes her head again. "Nooooo! I'm a big girl! ... Besides, that'd be like a date, right?" She laughs softly, shaking her head even more... before hitting him on the arm playfully and letting go. She then skips ahead a bit, before turning to face him whilst walking backward.. "Aaand... Athena and the others are doing okay!" As far as she knows. She hadn't seen them in a good while. "I don't think anything particularly big is coming up either. Or I hope if it does, it's good and not bad!"
Ohh yeah, if she ever calls in that word he knows at least one of his knees is going to absolutely hate him. As if his body doesn't often feel like trying to rebel against a man who tends to push it a little too hard. It was bad enough when he was a construction worker in his younger years. It's arguably even worse now, as a Kyokugen practitioner. It's probably not hard to for Momoko's finger to find some rough scar tissue on the older man. He more or less takes her good cheer about dancing and the like in stride, eyes and mind on the prize. The prize being a large sub sandwich. A large sub sandwich with more fixings than should be physically compacted between two loaves of bread. He could almost taste it.
He loses his stride at the protest and thought that it'd be as a date, which earns a sour look. "Uhh, no, it, it wouldn'--" she punches him playfully in the arm.
It's a pretty sensitive spot. For being a larger, thicker, unarguably physically stronger man, he actually visibly rubs it after the fact. "H-Hey, watch it," he protests, "guy poked me there." There's no fresh wounds there, compared to the parts of him that's bandaged. But if that part is tender without obvious bandaging... he must've suffered some pretty heavy blows where he's all dolled up for recovery.
Yet he insists on walking along to get something to eat anyway.
"Well, keep me posted." People often come and go, he's found. They enter your life, maybe leave a mark, and then more often than not they just seem to vanish into thin air, never to be seen again. Shaking his head as he throws his arm out to work out the kink that follows, he finds himself having to pick up the pace a little to follow Momoko as she walks backwards.
"Well, uh, as for me... 'm a brown belt in Kyokugen now." He's wearing it right now. Like just about any fighter, it seems like he wears the same thing just about everywhere, with minor variances in color every so often. "Training's been, well, 'bout as... as fierce as you might expect," he cranes his neck back and forth a bit. The Kyokugen training regimen is notoriously harsh, and this is a man who despite his age has managed to advance as far as he has in a relatively short amount of time. "Money's kinda tight, kind of just, uh, barely getting by on winnings. Tuition fees aren't... aren't really, y'know, bringin' in much, but," what else is new? They're also famous for their financial woes. Takuma is a martial arts genius, but his lackluster business savvy and the very low retention rate has certainly left its mark.
"Things're going good, aside from, uh... well, today." And a few other days, but in recent memory, today wasn't the greatest. He rubs at his arm again. Jeez, he thinks to himself, am I really getting that soft that a little playful hit from a girl gives me pause? He exhales loudly again. "I dunno, if, if I went into detail 'bout all the, the li'l things, you'd think otherwise, but... things're okay."
As he rubs his arm softly, and begins to object to her teasing about it being a 'date' under those circumstances, she adopts a bit of a more serious expression. She's still smiling, but not quite beaming as she was before. Maybe she's concerned...? She had, for the moment, kind of forgotten he was injured! Either that or... he was just so much bigger and sturdier-looking than her it had lulled her into thinking maybe it wouldn't be as impactful as it was. Rather than respond immediately, however, she opts to simply pay the respect she feels she owes him by not saying anything and letting him do he talking for the time being.
Whilst he talks, she continues to walk backwardly slowly with her arms tucked behind her back. Every few steps she seems to hop a little, before continuing to simply walk. It might seem dangerous, for her to be walking backward for so long... but perhaps her inherent Psycho Power gave her a sense for her surroundings. Either that or... she was just carefree. ... Probably a little of both!
As Rust begins to trail off, after explaining the state of his life... she finally turns her back to him and slows her walking pace. She continues to walk like that until he catches up... her bright pink ribbons and sash swaying gently with her body movements as she looks ahead of herself quietly. "...I'm sorry to hear about all that, well...", she begins... trying to think of how to respond... "I hope it gets better for you! If you ever need help with anything, you can ask Momoko!" A silly as that might sound, the Psycho Soldiers had sidejobs as performers and they did make good money. She'd always help a friend if they asked. "Sorry for my rudeness just now also...", she adds, "It wasn't intentional."
Having said that, she gives him another side-long glance, craning her neck as she does so, "Well... we better hurry! The sun is going down!"
Log created on 20:20:00 04/16/2013 by Momoko, and last modified on 22:33:57 04/17/2013.