Description: King is getting The Illusion back up to scratch. Operations and upkeep cost a lot of money, and the recent downturn in Southtown tourism and the fighting scene have meant that the place has become a little more run down than she would have liked. Thankfully, Howard Rust and the well-meaning students of the Kokyugen Dojo are on hand to help out. And in return, King offers a little something she's picked up which might just help out with their own thorny (grassy?) issues.
Illusion has seen better days. The bar is King's pride and joy, but as she's run her bank account down, the decor has suffered. The furniture has faded, the floor is sticky, and the more exotic alcohol levels are running low. Still, there's nothing there that a lick of paint and some elbow grease won't fix, and nobody has ever said that King is afraid of hard work.
She's also called in help from the Kyokugen dojo. She's got a mop and is swabbing the floor, but there's also a lot of power tools laid out, and some of the chairs more desperately in need of attention, too. A bench seat in particular, from one of the booths at the back of the bar, has a nasty split right across the back. She's hoping that Ryo knows someone who can help with that issue, because she hasn't got a clue how to fix it herself.
She might be the Emperor of Muay Thai, but she's also a bar owner, and one who refuses to hire more extra help than is absolutely necessary. Its the middle of the day, and that means its time for all the unglamorous work that nobody ever thinks that she'd have to do herself. She's just glad she managed to throw everyone who was going to be sick *outside* before they did it this time around.
A family friend of the Sakazakis is a friend they'll send just about the entire dojo to in times of need. Or just because Takuma thinks it'll help him get grandkids sooner. Either or. The Kyokugen Dojo's students are not just among the most physically resilient and powerful martial artists in the world of hand-to-hand combat...
They are, almost by necessity, very skilled carpenters across the board. The structures they train in when they aren't out in the lot are in frequent need of maintenance and repairs. It's almost an everyday happening. Someone gets thrown through a wall. Someone utterly destroys a support beam with a stray Haoh Sho Ko Ken. Someone slams a floorboard too hard with a body or their foot and ends up leaving a big hole. It's half unbearably strenuous stretching exercises, half physically demanding katas, and half carpenting.
Wait. That doesn't quite add up to... well, we're not here for the hard math, are we?
Of those students who are gathered, perhaps none are quite as skilled as one Howard Rust, former construction worker, former high school shop teacher, and (he sure well hopes) former frontline soldier who doesn't quite work as fast as he used to. The injuries to his right hand from some years back put a real damper on it, but just like about pretty much everything else, he endures wit hit.
"Y'mean this... one," he looks to the busted booth seats. A bench. His tone of voice takes subtle turn for the aggravated when he sizes it up. "Well, I'll, I'll take a whack at this too." This off of already helping fix back up a few stools, a couple chairs... two other tables. He saw it was broken earlier. He was hoping someone else would end up doing it among the Kyokugen student body present at this hour, but no, in the end, he cannot escape it.
Benches. Broken benches. The very personification of the menial tasks he was asked to do in place of the actual custodial staff back when he worked at Pacific High's Southtown chapter. Rolling his right shoulder once, he just nods his head once. Yep. Bench. Just another one of those benches. "I, I dunno, this one doesn't look... too well made to begin with, might just, uh, build you a new one, maybe," he starts to trail off as he gets down on his knees and has himself a closer look at whatever else is busted on this particular seat beyond the obvious.
King is honestly pretty easy to work for. She's happy for the help, and she is a much less demanding taskmaster than Takuma. The students are treated to juices, sodas and the like. No alcohol, of course. Even for the ones old enough to drink, its the middle of the day! King isn't going to encourage alcoholism, even in people who work as hard as the Kokyugen crowd.
Rust's skill hasn't gone unnoticed, though. He's stormed through a lot of the more desperate carpentry work, and King has definitely appreciated that. He's older than she'd been expecting - students are usually kids, aren't they? - But it isn't like she's going to toss him out just because of that. Especially when he's such a hard worker! Its really inspiring to see.
"Aw, hey, you don't have to do that." She says, when Rust muses about just replacing the bench seat. "That's a lot of hassle, I wouldn't feel right asking you to build me something totally new. Tell you what, if it is that bad, I'll just buy a new one."
She swings the mop up onto her shoulder as she says that, and wanders over to take a look herself. It really has seen a lot of punishment. Its probably been in a bar fight, or a bonus stage, at some point. The crack down the back of the bench runs almost its full length, and one of the legs has come loose, wobbly. She makes a bit of a face as she taps her foot against the old and beaten up furniture. "Yeah. This thing is practically an antique. It might have been here when I got the place, I should probably just replace it if you can't fix it up."
The aging man winces as he gives the thing a look-over. Is it really a good idea to let anyone sit down on this thing again? This is a pretty nasty crack in a place that might require more than some glue, even if the wobbly leg might not be that difficult a fix in comparison. To him, this looks like it's ready to split all the way in half if anyone sits on there for like more than a few minutes - but it could just be the alarmist in him speaking.
"Well, uh, it's... it's kinda hard for everyone these days, isn't it," he speaks aloud as he eyes the wobbly leg and gives it a few tugs as a test to figure out just how bad it is on its own. After all, King is extremely famous as it is, having succeeded to the very highest title in Muay Thai despite having to overcome the glass ceiling related to her gender. Well, more like completely smashing and obliterating it - and yet, this bar does need some serious TLC. It's been hard for everyone in the fighting circuits even if they're champions, hasn't it?
Exhaling loudly, he looks over to where he's set down some of the tools. Is the glue even there? Did one of the others just snatch it up for something else? Most of the time Takuma insists they work very, very directly with their hands when he's overseeing stuff, but glue is not really one of the things you can replicate with your bare hands.
"Worst case, uh, worst case scenario... I mean, you know," she probably doesn't, as he coughs once. Wow, it's dusty down here too! "'scuse me, uh, yeah, I'll... I'll get back to you on that," he says as he turns an eye up back towards that crack.
"How's, ah, what's-his-name doing... the little guy I, I see around you sometimes?"
King smiles faintly at the modest comment on how bad things are. "People are getting sick of fighting." She says, and shrugs her shoulders, "I can't say I blame them really. Two wars and a lot of idiots like Adon running around, if I was on the outside, I'd probably want to change the channel too." Of course, she'd pretty conclusively shut Adon's mouth, and really, that's the act which has given her the cash she needs to keep on going. The Illusion does okay... but Southtown as a whole has suffered as less tourists have the money or inclination to come to the mecca of the fighting world.
"Little guy?" She repeats, and frowns. Ryo isn't a little guy, is he? Is there something she should-- oh, ooooh.
"You mean Jan." She says, and laughs, "Yeah, he's doing much better. He's had the operation and he can walk around properly now, which is nice. He's still getting used to it though. It'll be a while before he's back in top shape."
She does look curious as she realizes that Rust looks like he's trying to figure out how to do something, without any glue. She's no carpenter, though. Maybe there's a secret technique. If there's any dojo in the world likely to have one, its the Kokyugen dojo. So now she's more curious than concerned. "How's the dojo holding up?" She asks, "You guys always seem to be just about holding on there... I was really surprised you could afford to send all this help over! Not that I'm complaining, its really good of you."
Oh yeah, Adon, hot button issue. The same guy who became an honest(?) landscaper with still a hell of a mouth on him, the Kyokugen brown belt grunts at the mention. Hell of a mess, that man, and all he did... but some honest work ought to set him straight, maybe. Probably. Hopefully. Even if he's pretty sure the fifty bucks he gave him was poorly spent as the Kyokugen dojo is now host to... /that grass/.
"Is he? That's... that's good," a bit of good news for sure in a sea of sort of dreary news for those who go to organized fights for a living as King segues into the subject of Jan, as the older man nods from down where he lies. Maybe one of those other Kyokugen types are going to bring the blue back here soon enough. /Some/ kind of glue is necessary where there's cracks like this, and he's not sure he can just magically fuse wood together by pressing at it hard enough.
It'd probably just make things ever worse.
"Well... you know, lost a, a few students again," but the Kyokugen dojo has always had an extremely difficult time retaining students so this in itself is nothing new as he pulls the toolbox closer to have himself a look. C'mon, glue, where are you, his face seems to be saying. The wobbly leg issue really shouldn't be tackled before these center cracks. "Hired a, a landscaper when he mentioned we got a, uh, an infestation of... of crab grass, and you know, it was Adon," that's probably going to be a shock, "I mean, definitely him, screaming and, and all that, y'know... he... didn't do a good job. We're just... overrun with it. Crab grass. Everywhere, ah, hold on."
Rust slides a bit out from underneath the table. "Who's got the glue?"
He slides back in, maybe one of them will come back and hand it over. "Japanese government's actually... kinda gotten down our, our throats over it... and, uh, well, let's say today's probably, kinda, kinda a vacation in comparison."
"You hired Adon."
Beat.
"To take care of the /grass/?"
King sounds, really, truly, shocked. That mental image just does not compute. Did he have a shovel, or just try and carve it out with his ridiculous nose? For a few seconds, King is lost trying to process that revelation. Not to mention the next. "And the government is getting on your case about crab grass?" That's, the kind of thing the government cares about?! "Geez, that's, rough."
There really isn't much more she can say to that. It sounds like Adon has managed to cause trouble even when he's not being an obnoxious jackass. Then again, she's just assuming that he wasn't when he was gardening, the more she thinks about it, the more likely case is that he's managed to screw it up AND be an obnoxious jackass, just not one who is actively punching and kicking everyone who comes near.
"Oh, hey, wait a sec, I've got an idea."
Turning around, she leaves Rust to struggle with the glue and the bench for a few moments whilst she returns to the bar, and sets down her mop. There's a lot of clinking and clattering as she rummages for one particular bottle. When she finds it, she lets out a loud 'ah-hah!' and soon she's coming back over with a clear glass bottle, in which a completely crystal clear liquid sloshes.
"I can't remember what this stuff is called. Its Ukrainian." She says, with cheerful honesty, "But I spilled some on a potted plant once and it killed it dead. Just... keep it away from open flames. It might be able to help take the edge off." Or the horrifying mystery alcohol - which is thankfully stoppered to prevent the overwhelming scent of sulfur, seriously where did she even get this? - could just reveal that the grass is a mean drunk. Who knows.
"Well, he was there, I mean... y'know, I thought it was a good turn for him, just, honest work," even Rust seems kind of mystified he thought it was a great idea at the time. He doesn't honestly think /Adon/ was the exact cause of this, if only because he cannot imagine why a man brought into menial work would be in such a hurry to get himself fired and possibly even blacklisted from that industry. As a man who struggled day to day in his younger years, it's incredibly mindboggling. He'd like to think Adon a little better than that.
Well, not a little, 'a little' is too big a quantity. Marginally? Let's go with marginally. Adon was generally never above a lot of truly heinous, horrible things back when the world was more tolerant of his, er, theatrics.
There's no kidding about all this being rough. A few ministries of the Diet's been breathing down everyone's back, even. They are looking at the beginning of what could be an ecological disaster. By crab grass. Has crab grass really brought the Kyokugen dojo and its practitioners low?
...Is it really that slow a time that the truly physical capable and mighty are /being bowed by weeds/?
As King ducks away for a bit, Rust leans back out to see if anyone's heeded his query about the glue. Where is the frigging glue? It's possible they didn't hear him - Rust's voice tends not to carry well over loud noise, and there's certainly no shortage of any of that. The older man frowns as he pulls himself up from under the booth, a crack in his shoulder as he stretches out a bit... just in time for King to return with a drink.
Lord knows he could use one.
"For me? I, uh," he's about to say 'thanks' when King continues to narrate its absolute potency against a potted plant and its point of origin, and he realizes very quickly that - despite his American heritage and penchant for consuming interesting chemicals they put in food over there - this is probably not one of the things he wants to ingest.
"Y-Yeah, actually, that... that might work," if it does he'd need way more than one bottle, probably, nodding his head, "thanks, that might do it, uh... hold on," he brings a hand down on the table with a gentle smack that nonetheless makes a noise, "where's the glue?" He asks of the rest.
A few students point to a number of things that are already in various, very notable states of cracking. The older man squints and scratches the side of his head as he realizes that the places they're using it are probably in more urgent need than this bench.
"N-Never mind," he bows his head and raises his hand as he turns back to King, "I'll, I'll get on that one after they're done with it."
King shakes her head, amused by the amount of effort that has gone into tidying up her bar. The glue is all in use, the students are going at it with the same dogged determination they display in their training... she's definitely going to have to compliment Ryo on the caliber of the help he'd provided. After she's slapped him for not coming along to lend a hand himself. Or maybe before. That way he'd remember the slap more than the thanks! And she wouldn't want him getting any ideas, would she?
... Would she?
"Its fine, don't worry about it." She says, making herself concentrate on the present. "You've done more than enough. Even if the bench has to remain broken for another day or two... that's not the end of the world." And it is kind of nice to concentrate on problems which aren't, unlike crab grass, which seems to be threatening to become a problem as big as Vega... in its own, grasslike way.
"I'll believe Adon's changed when I see it myself, though. It'll take more than a few days hard work to teach him what he needs to learn." She hmphs. Its, really uncharacteristically harsh of her, but then, this is the man who had repeatedly tried to drag her down based on her gender alone. She could count the amount of people she liked less on one hand.
Oh, and if you want a drink... eh, I think you deserve it. You can probably stop for today if you like." Gravitating back to the bar, she produces a bottle of fine american imported Budweiser. Truly a rarity in Southtown! "You're a beer man, right? I wouldn't normally serve anything in the afternoon but... I think you deserve it."
"Most of these, you're gonna want to, yeah, let sit for a bit, have 'em all settle, and, uh, and to, to make sure they're stable before you, well, use 'em," which is par for the course for these sorts of things. Are there any big sporting events coming up? He's lost track ever since he started watching less TV than he used to. Most of the time when he comes home he barely has the energy to make any actual dinner.
King's probably right about Adon not completely changing. He was still screaming down at him like Adon always does to pretty much everyone, but still, he got an honest job somewhere (but for how long? He really didn't do a great job with the lawn at all). Rust doesn't really say much more on the subject as he checks to table he just pat to make sure he didn't accidentally loosen or undo any work on it - if any.
Nope, this one's one of the good ones, whew. Heaven knows he's accidentally cracked or broken something several times over in the last few weeks, like everything wants to break down in some sort of passive-aggressive attempt by inanimate objects to vie for his attention. If... inanimate objects did that sort of thing (no, they don't).
At offering of the beer - fine American imported Budweiser, oh hell yes, the lovely watered down taste of American beer! - he gladly takes it in hand with yet another nod. "Thanks, yeah, yeah, I am, don't really get to, ah, drink as much anymore, but--"
"We ran out of glue!" One of the Kyokugen students calls - one of the white belts. One of the not particularly smart ones. "Think we should just squeeze some of this together?"
Nor is the one who decides to agree with this idea and start just pushing wooden halves together. A duo of very enthusiastic but not particularly bright students, already set to accidentally break some things even more with what strength they can muster, as though thinking this is a clever shortcut given a number of students already do things like sand off edges with their palms.
Rust looks back to King, "at, at this rate 's gonna be two beers," he grouses aloud as he sets the bottle down on the table and walks off towards them. "No, no, don't, you're just gonna--"
CRACK!
"God damnit, I said you're gonna... just," there's some flashbacks to his time at Pacific High, where his students were... really not well disposed towards working with their hands as he takes a hand to his forehead. "Oh, great. Sorry," he turns to King apologetically, "I'll, I'll get this worked out."
Log created on 09:29:20 05/30/2013 by King, and last modified on 12:17:26 05/30/2013.