Description: Zach Glen's almost got it all ready. The school he hoped to build to help troubled youth and especially those like himself is but several months and three stacks of paperwork away from being fully realized in the suburban neighborhoods of Metro City. In town for an organized fight, his friend Howard Rust stops by to chew the fat a bit about life, dreams, and direction... but who's more unsure about their future here?
The Quon Chen Institute of Higher Learning is not some towering ediface. It is, however, something of a sprawling campus with several wide open areas and a good-sized athletic center that looks like it could withstand an apocalypse. That is by design; the man driving the project behind this complex wanted it to withstand the worst he could hand out. Zach Glen was a man with a reputation for exactly that in his early fighting career.
Just... not today.
Currently, Zach Glen is in the Headmaster's office, at a desk. You'd almost not see him behind the three towers of paperwork sitting at one side of it. The psion had no clue before now what went in to running a school. It was, in fact, something he hadn't accounted for when he started this almost completed project but it is something he is applying his considerable willpower to.
The Institute is set to open with the fall semester, and he's not about to let stupid paperwork stop that from happening.
Another match coming up, located here in Metro City. It's been harder and harder to secure them these days, and this time he had to pony up travel costs ahead of time. The payouts from the last two fights he got weren't too great and - considering his performance in them - it's another small financial burden to bear in the continued attempt to make his living as a full-time fighter. His dream job. What he's always wanted.
That's what he keeps saying to himself as the famous Howard Rust eyes a piece of paper with an address, walking alongside the Institute. I'm almost there, he thinks to himself as he keeps eyes on the paper... which street am I on now?
He looks up and scratches his head. He... is there. Huh. Maybe he could've been able to tell this sooner if he bothered to look at the building he was walking alongside and not just the paper. Lesson learned, further humor at his expense, mumble grumble mutter. One of his elbows creak as if to attempt to chortle at him. Stupid elbow.
Some minutes later, there's a polite knock on the Headmaster's office door. There's a familiar tapping rhythm to it that Zach might recognize, but that point is moot when it comes to a much, much more recognizable voice from the other side of the door.
"Hey. Zach? Zach? You in there?" The familiar gravelly voice asks from the other side, slightly muffled. "I'm, uh, I'm not... interrupting something, am I?"
Zach lifts his head at the knock, surprised he didn't notice the new presence sooner than he did. He frowns behind the stacks as Rust confirms his presence. The short psion pulls himself up over the stack with a bit of a grin before letting himself down to circle the desk and get the door. Zach greets the larger man with a smile.
"Rust! It's been what to long! Since China, I think?" The shorter man extends a hand by way of greeting.
"Hey.. Zach," there's a bit of a smile as he reaches out with his right hand for the shake. As always, that grip isn't quite as strong as one would expect for his build. From the onset, Zach may notice he's got a different belt color - brown! He's been doing well in advancing in Kyokugen, that's for sure. Other than that, well, he's probably the same as one would imagine. That toupee. The weariness on his face, the occasional joint popping... least he hasn't coughed yet.
Scratch that, he's doing that now, taking his left hand up to his mouth before patting his chest. "'scuse me... yeah, it, it has been that long," he murmurs out in his occasionally aggravatingly low tone of voice, "y-you mind if I step in, been... been on my feet all morning, and, well... y'know, in town, thought I'd... I'd just stop by, and, and see how things are, 'n... 'n all that, uh," he finally eyes those huge stacks of papers on his desk, "y'sure this is a good time, I could... come back later, I mean..."
Zach ushers Rust in, grabbing a chair for the Kyokugen fighter. "Nah," he says good naturedly, "I was starting to see double from all the fine print." The psychic pulls out a second chair for himself. "So how's things?" he asks. The paperwork, while formidable, will just have to wait. His friend is here, and that is more important.
Is it okay? Howard used to be a high school teacher at a very prestigious international school. He remembers the paperwork /he/ had to file. Zach's about to be the headmaster of this new school... he can only imagine just how much he's got to get in order in comparison!
"Thanks," he murmurs as he takes a seat in that chair. Feels good after a morning full of little mistakes and wrong turns in just getting here, and Metro City isn't quite the friendliest place to be taking wrong turns - even in the upper-middle class neighborhood.
"Well," he scratches the side of his head, where does he begin? "I, I could say... n-not as bad as during the wars, but," but we all know where this is heading, "you, you probably saw some of my, uh, recent matches.... Karl? Kyle? No, no, I mean, Carlos," where he had that really weird 3 AM live timeslot, "and... uh, much more recently, an officer from here, think that was, uh, that was one of the ones who fought Skull Cross." Who doesn't remember that third major gang uprising in Metro City? "Both got me. Pretty sure next one in line's... well, from that same group too."
His eyes wander a bit with a shrug. "Kyokugen dojo's kinda an, uh, I think the Diet there is calling it an... an ecological disaster, buncha god damn crab grass," seriously, is that really a thing, a crabgrass infestation so bad the Japanese Diet has been getting involved? "Lost a, a friend some time back to a shooting over in, in Southtown," he gestures uselessly as he is prone to with one of his hands, "and... and I think I might've, might've hurt someone who... who really looked up to me."
He hadn't had a chance at all to go to the hospital to check on her in the least, something he clearly feels guilty about... but there was a severe insistence on the part of people organizing the next match that there's a very very strict timetable he could get in a next match, and frankly there aren't many alternatives.
"Really... really hasn't been easy," he murmurs with the sinking of his head a bit.
It's fine, and not as high on Zach's priorities list as it perhaps ought to be. He listens calmly, politely. His eyes do not once move towards the paperlith awaiting him. The lawn comment gets a brow raise. He is quiet for a moment, taking everything in to process.
"Sounds like," he says finally. "Is there anything I can do to help," he asks honestly.
A lot of people have offered the same. Some do so continuously - Sagat is all but giving him all the money he really needs to get by, a point of shame even if the gesture is appreciated.
"Well," he clears his throat, "you, uh, you really sure you can't... can't predict lottery numbers?" Cripes, how many times has he more or less asked this of Zach? He cracks something of a chortle but that's following a shrug, "it's, it's not really easy anywhere now, but... career's just, just not going great, but," but this is increasingly depressing. The older man lets that hang as he sits back up.
"Yyyeah, y'know, let's just... just not dwell on that, I mean... you're, you're about to get a big thing going, right?" He points to all that paperwork. "Finally getting this, this whole ball going. That's... that's really big, Zach, I mean, look what you got here."
Zach lets out an undignified snort, "Pretty sure," he says, "Woulda made a lot of things simpler." He leans back, giving the paperwork a level stare that Rust recognizes; Zach is contemplating the soon-to-be epic battle. Then a faint grin flickers across his face, one of pride.
"Yeah," he says. "It'll be something once it gets going." Zach seems... content, which might be a novel experience for Rust.
It sure would, wouldn't it? A man can dream. A man does dream. Sometimes he daydreams when the day isn't trying to make alarmingly loud alarm sounds. There is a notable contrast between the moods of the two men, of a content and optimistic one, and one who seems troubled and down and out.
"Yeah... it will." There's no denying that. A great turn of the page for a new chapter in Zach's life, to utilize his life experiences and challenges to a greater, better end. What could anyone in the know really say about it?
"Yeah, you're... you're gonna make a lot of peoples' lives better for this, I mean... wow." From all those days of barely controlled (and sometimes outright uncontrolled) blasting, to being a man in peace with his power. The older man nods a bit. "I'm, uh, I'm not your dad, or your... uncle, or, older brother. Cousin." Pretty sure on that one. What other relations are there? "But I gotta say, I'm, I'm really proud of you, Zach, putting... putting it all together, like this. 's gonna be really something." If only he knew how to tell who was a psion outside of getting the crap blasted out of him, and even then it's not a sure bet.
His knee knows better. It's not telling.
"How many you think you're, ah, gonna get? From the get go."
Zach looks at Rust, not really sure how to react to that. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts; the compliment catching Zach off guard for a moment. He takes a deep breath before answering the question.
"Honestly?" he finally says, "Even if I never bring any here the entire time the school is open, it'll be worth it. We're helping more than just people like me here," he says. "Which was part of the plan from the outset."
"Even if you don't get... any... students?" That one's a headscratcher, or probably a misunderstanding? Oh, misunderstanding. "Oh, you mean, uh, like... you, and, uh," he fails to think of another psion off the top of his head, even after snapping his fingers a few times to remember. Once the point is properly made, though, there really isn't any reason to finish the sentence.
"'m looking forward to, y'know, seeing it." He thinks about it. "Uh, more... hearin' it, dunno how often I'll be, I'll be, um, coming by Metro, y'know what I mean." He sits up a little straighter. He's looking forward to hearing all the success stories of whatever programs Zach pushes through here. Of course, there's always that last, pressing question. The one thing they did together for some time up until everyone more or less parted ways following Vega's land wars.
"While we're here, uh, y'think you're gonna have, ah, any more time for fights these days?" Not that it has been exactly a booming field of financial opportunity lately, but these two did more or less meet over it. "I, I don't mean right now," he raises a hand and shakes it, "I mean, in general." He doesn't recall seeing Zach on TV at all with any big names in recent memory.
Zach winces a bit at the question. It's been... holy crap. The end of his NDP run? No, there was that thing with the Rindo girl, but that was still half a year ago at this point. He thinks about it for a long moment.
"I kninda want to," he finally admits to both Rust and himself. "But getting time... is going to be kind of hard," he says finally, looking slightly crestfallen. "It's something I'm going to have to look at," he decides.
That right there, was the story of Howard Rust's life at age 37. Getting himself an excellent job for what level of education he had, but wanting something else. Something that, at the time, felt like... more. He had something good going, despite the difficulties with co-workers that did not particularly respect him. Something he ultimately threw away for his lifelong dream (and/or the sake of a world about to end, but more the former than the latter by far).
What could he say to Zach about this that wouldn't be awkward to say? Zach's putting aside a fighting career for something big. Rust... put aside something he felt was also on some level very important for... well, this. A floundering career despite significant strength and talent that the Kyokugen Dojo has really drawn out of him, strength and talent that saw him stand tall against tyrants and their machinations... but for some reason, not so much against other prize fighters.
The awkwardness shows, as something sounds like it's going to come out of his mouth, but doesn't until another kind of strange pause.
"Sometimes, Zach, it's... it's just a case of priorities, I mean... you got a, a lot riding on this, right? Lot of people, uh, looking up to you for this," and his mind wanders to that brash - skilled, but brash and altogether very rude - girl that looked up to him much the same way, expressing her displeasure in how far he seemed to have fallen from her lofty ideals. If he ever really stood on top of them, in any case - heroes are frequently exaggerated figures. One he hasn't yet checked in on the hospital in favor of making at least a little cash for fight participation.
Are his own priorities there really in order? He scratches the side of his head, letting the words trail for a bit.
"Well... however it, however it unfolds, Zach, I'm... I'm pretty sure you'll make the right calls." He sounds even more unsure of /his/ own as he speaks, looking off to the side once as he brings his left hand up against the back of his own chair. "A-Anyway, I... I better not hold you up, Zach, 's... 's good to see you, after... after all of that." All of that stuff he knows he doesn't want to have to see again. Frightened faces, plowing through armed forces that at the time were not at all well organized or equipped to fight those of immense physical capability... the death.
Even as his own life after all that is no endless shortage of difficulties and frustrations, it is a relief that at least Zach has been making great things with his life and experiences from here. A feeling that just about everything should be okay from here, after all he went through.
"Just... take care of yourself, too, right? I, I think you'll do good with this," of course, as he says to take care of himself, his elbow and shoulder both send a twinge of pain through him, ending in a wince. He really really needs to stretch that arm out more before his fight with Dean, whenever that will be.
"I'll, I'll keep in touch. Uh. Better touch."
Zach gives the paperwork a dark scowl before grinning at Rust. "Same here," he says as he gets to his feet. He extends a hand to Rust, "You'll get through this," he says with confidence. There are not many people who have gotten to where Rust is, and even fewer at this stage in his life. He'll get through this.
The hand is met with another, very brief handshake as he gets to his feet, and a brief nod.
"Yeah..."
That doesn't sound entirely confident unto itself, but he puts on the best poker face he really can with his feelings there. Taking in a deep breath, he goes along out the door--
He pushes at it for a bit. It's probably humorous, up until he thinks this particular door from this side is one you pull. With a low grunt, he opens it up and just goes along out to Metro City's suburbs with thoughtful regards to the facility. The top-notch construction, state-of-the-art stuff. To think of all the money and work that went into it, just to this end. The hallmark of a young man who may well have finally found his dreams in life.
What are his own going to look like when all's said and done?
Log created on 19:01:33 06/13/2013 by Rust, and last modified on 21:50:34 06/13/2013.