Well folks, you've been waiting semi-patiently for it. Here is the Matchmaker Mission. :) Hopefully, it will be worth the wait. Enjoy.
Mission Twenty One - Operation Matchmaker
Tseng almost felt pity for the young Turk currently pacing around the enclosure. She'd been pacing in that same circle for more than three hours, stopping only to give the bars a swift kick and attempt to reach the lever only twelve miserable inches out of reach. A distant part of him half expected her to begin chewing on the bars out of desperation.
"Is the cage really necessary?" she whined, once again resuming her search for a method of escape. "I mean, all I did was go for a nice walk through the water gardens."
The coffee burned as he spit it out in disbelief. "You tried to pole vault over the twelve foot tall ancestral gates with a makeshift bamboo stave, and actually succeeded. That is not a 'little' walk, Cissnei."
She crossed her arms and sat down in a corner, back towards her superior officer. "And I would have gotten away had she not been waiting with a lasso on the other side."
"I warned you," he remarked. "No one escapes from my mother. She found me in Midgar of all places after sixteen years when the rest of my Turks couldn't. It's like she is moonlighting as a Turk herself."
Both Cissnei and Tseng looked at one another in horror, arriving at the same conclusion. The idea of Mama Tseng as an honorary Turk was just disturbing…
"Sir, permission to speak semi freely?"
"Denied."
Cissnei sighed and returned to her corner to brood. "I am so not voting you as best boss in Shinra this year."
Four hours later…
Vincent wrinkled his nose at the cup of fowl liquid clutched in his hands. How did any humans manage to drink this stuff on a daily basis? He sniffed the bitter fumes wafting from the surface of the cup and turned to the pieces of raw fish arranged in a mini smiley face across the bowl of rice.
Working for Hojo had its perks sometimes. At least the mad scientist was insane enough to provide pink frosted donuts and straight black coffee. So he had to endure a few hours of excruciating pain to get one of them. It was well worth it in the long run. He looked towards Tseng, who poked at a piece of sushi as though it might have still been swimming. No wonder the poor guy had moved to Midgar.
"Yo, boss," Reno held up a piece of sushi precariously balanced between two chopsticks. "What the hell is this supposed to be? Some sort of goldfish?"
"You were expecting bacon and eggs?"
Rude eased himself away from his red haired comrade, as though sensing the hostility brewing from the other side of the table.
"Hell yeah!"
At the mention of the very thought, Papa Tseng stood up and stormed across the table in his bare feet, kicking over a teapot and coating the unfortunate female Turk who scrambled to salvage her cup of tea, in rice, green tea, and raw fish. She glared towards her comrades, and for a moment, Tseng found himself grateful that he had seized her shuriken and materia before he had let her out of her cage. If any of his Turks survived this mission with a hint of sanity left, it was going to be a long ride home.
Leviathan help them all…
"Beanpole boy rude! No respect for elder. Fish die valiant death for honor to be your breakfast! You show respect to fish!" Reno yelped as the older man struck him in the face with a wrinkled foot. "You bow down, give thanks to Leviathan now!"
"Whoa there buddy. I didn't mean-" Another strike, this time from a very irritated cane wielding Mama Tseng who managed to refill a trembling Cissnei's tea cup at the same time.
Papa Tseng continued to yell. "Beanpole son need discipline! Lots of discipline! He spend day with me, bald man, and irresponsible father. We teach proper behavior. Go to Ancestral Dai Chao Mountain. Pray Leviathan eat him. Make him new man."
At this, Vincent raised an eyebrow and looked down at his tea. Had Papa Tseng just suggested sacrificing Reno to the water god? He needed to stop overhearing things. He paused, foul tasting, yet strangely addicting tea at his lips. They hadn't mentioned him in their conversation yet. He could only imagine what today held in store for him.
"You, manly woman, get your things. We have an 8 o'clock meeting with Master Yeng to attend."
"My name is Vikki," he shuddered at how well he said it. Oh how the great Vincent Valentine had fallen. Comfortable enough to admit being a 'woman' of all things. He shook his head and set the teacup down.
"Whatever you say. You," Mama Tseng pointed to Cissnei, who cowered in terror. "Get dressed for Master Yeng. He will turn your into respectable proper lady by sundown."
With a grudging sigh, the youngest Turk trudged off to her room, muttering a slew of threats towards Tseng for putting her in this position to begin with.
Vincent leaned closer to the man he called his superior officer. "You want to be buried in Wutai or Midgar?"
For a moment, Tseng considered offering to take Reno's place as Leviathan's unappetizing dinner. He hadn't considered needing a restraining order against his own Turks.
The Matchmaker's Lair...
Vincent Valentine had seen some disturbing oddities in his life, most located in the Turk's lounge and a select few involving the excuse for a men's room by Hojo's laboratory. But this was one of those things he wished he had a cell phone for. If anything, just to capture a brief fifteen second clip to sell to some media cooperation for millions, or, if that failed, to be featured under the Youtube promoted video section for a day. Either way would have been fine with him.
He leaned against the spiraling column of the pagoda, watching the closest thing to a legal chocobo fight he was ever going to find for free.
His money was on the red head.
"That only 89 degree angle!" the cane collided against the copper teakettle with a resounding chime heard the entire way to Lord Godo's house. "You pour tea at 90 degree angle!"
Mama Tseng stood like a proud mother chocobo watching her fledging leave the nest. Only, instead of spreading her wings and flying away as anticipated, the unfortunate chicobo in question was trying in vain to use a teakettle as an effective shield.
Vincent had to give the younger Turk credit. She was making damn good use of what she had to work with.
"Eight nine? Eighty nine! You stupid girl!" Cissnei barely managed to sidestep the table in the cumbersome violet kimono as the shorter, spry man wearing boxer shorts depicting the Midgar Zoloms's infamous logo across the rear hopped about like an irritated moogle, beard whipping in the wind and sunglasses catching the Wutainese morning sun.
Vincent did a double take at the brewing hostility between student and master. Either Rude had shrunk to a four foot tall midget with a beard, or Cissnei had grown six inches taller.
"How you impress man when you no learn how pour proper cup of tea?" She dodged behind the nearest bamboo plant, quivering like a frightened moomba.
"Master Yeng, I highly doubt my ability to pour a cup of tea has anything to do with-" The cane struck the bamboo venomously, trying to scare her out into the open.
"You suck as woman. You act more like man. You no even pour tea right! What they teach you at academy that no exist? How be manwhore?"
The stoic Turk silently bid his comrade to stay hiding in the bamboo plants moreso for Master Yeng's safety than her own. Who knew what damage a teakettle wielding Turk in a kimono could do?
Mama Tseng, however felt differently; stalking towards the bamboo plant, reached in with a glare and dragged the unfortunate Turk back into the open, disarming her of the teakettle. With a whimper, Cissnei found herself standing before the Matchmaker once more.
"So you no know how pour tea. Big deal. Maybe man no like tea. It impossible, but you unlucky as is. You date at hobo level now. We find you nice upstanding hobo with big cardboard house. You build on as family grow." He paced back and forth. "Now we learn proper walk to attract upscale hobo. You walk good, he have second story box house. Walk! Now!"
Cissnei grudgingly stepped across the cobblestone garden to avoid the cane. So she wasn't going to do much better than attract Reno anyway. Why were they even bothering? After a few strides, the crotchety old man threw the cane at her.
"Stop stop stop. You walk like being stalked by confused male."
"He's a hobo for Holy's sake! How can he not be confused!" she spat, making Vincent raise an eyebrow. She did have a point there. Master Yeng walked over to his receptionist and whispered something to her. She handed him what looked like a bundle of cloth.
"You need walk like carry child for nine months many times. Man like experience. Here," he handed her the screaming infant. "You carry baby until you learn walk like experienced woman."
She paled, the infant poking her in the eye as it screamed. Turks did not make good parents.
Yep, Vincent thought to himself. Definitely buying a cell phone with camera and internet functions.
"Sir-"
The cane caught her in the knee, making her stumble and frantically clutch the baby tighter to prevent herself from dropping it.
"You address me as Master Yeng. You name suck. Need better one. Call you Firecracker or Cricket. You look like bug."
"I do not!"
"You be quiet, Cricket. Learn how walk like experienced woman! Now!"
Grumbling, she tried to figure out just how to walk in both a kimono and carry an infant as directed, earning yet another strike of the cane.
"That not it! You stupid Cricket! She show you how walk like experienced woman!" He pointed to Mama Tseng, who stepped forward at a slightly hunched, odd waddle that made Vincent raise an eyebrow. Cissnei, walking like Mama Tseng? He didn't wish that hell upon anyone.
"Master Yeng," she sighed. "I'm not ready to be married. I want a career over kids-"
It was a heck of a lot safer that way, Vincent reasoned, the sound of the cane cracking the cobblestone by her bare feet making him wince. Something told him that Tseng was going to never hear a complaint again from his youngest Turk after this. Then again, Tseng was probably out picking a place to be buried. He was going to need it soon.
"You have career! Chop head off fish. Feed husband and many kids. Be woman of household. Here," he tried to hand her a knife much to her horror as she cradled the screaming infant and pointed to a koi pond. "Catch fish with feet, chop head off. Hobo husband like multitasked, experienced woman. Now!"
The auburn haired Turk shivered as though the summer breeze had turned to winter. "I can't kill a fish. I won't do it."
The knife clattered against the cobblestones by Master Yeng's sandals. He raised an eyebrow in fury, striking the ground with his cane like an angry chocobo. Brow furrowed, he turned on his heel, as though thinking about something.
Vincent smirked. Dare he say that he had placed his money on the right opponent this round? Had the short one managed to actually win an impossible battle? She must have had some great cheat codes.
A dull thud struck his chest, the cane forcing him against the wall and Master Yeng glaring from Mama Tseng to him. "You wise bring her to me. She suck at everything she do. Who this manwhore?"
Mama Tseng smirked. "This is Vikki, wife of Tseng and mother of his two children."
Master Yeng removed his glasses in shock. "God Holy Leviathan of Bahamut! He have more than one of them? What he thinking? He have family of hobos!"
"He wasn't," Mama Tseng answered before Vincent could reply. That was it. It was one thing to insult him as a woman, but to insult his 'mothering' abilities, that was poking Ifrit in the rear with a stick territory. He clenched his fist and glared at the bamboo plant.
"Alright Mister Yeng Bang whatever the hell you call yourself. You want to see a real woman? I'll show you one. Cissnei!" She trembled in response. "Bring me that teakettle."
--
On the next One Hundred Tiny Missions…
Papa Tseng takes the boys to Dai Chao Mountain's Hall of Ancestral Meditation. Will 'Leviathan' accept Reno as a suitable sacrifice? Will Rude be blessed with his first hair? What exactly did Vincent do to Master Yeng? And Tseng is about to learn a whole new meaning for the phrase "Ghost of the past."
Tune in folks! Admit it, you're curious.
Until we meet again,
SageQuill :)