OC Night Out
Author's Notes: While I haven't been as thorough with my research as I should have been, for now we'll take a break from the carnage and mayhem of the tournament and instead focus on lighter-hearted material. That's right, the OCs. Part of the purpose behind Colliding Worlds is to flesh out the original characters, which is why they come complete with a movelist. Also, during the tournament they'll discuss their own histories. Enjoy.
Osaka, Japan
Fifteen minutes have passed
"Sorry we're late!" Heads in all directions simultaneously turned as Darrell Markis and Kenneth Feng barreled down the stairs, the latter still in the process of pulling on a leather jacket. Darrell produced a pair of shades and Kenneth a comb. "All set!"
"Sure took your sweet time," Scott Wagner grumbled.
"Anyway, what's going on?" Darrell asked, ignoring Scott. The Senior Airman glowered at him.
"It's original characters' night out!" Mason Storm proclaimed grandly. "Tonight, we're going to show Regina around the town, so Blake and I invited every other OC to come along. We're missing a few, but anyways I'm sure we'll have a grand time." He swept his gaze across the room, including everyone in his speech. Besides himself, he counted ten others present: Kikoken, Kirina, Scott Wagner, Mitsukake Kagatoshi, Yin Lee, Chan Yoruyamatiha, Blake Wallis, Darrell Markis, Kenneth Feng, and of course Regina. Conspicuously absent were McGrath and the Phantoms - probably out looking for the girls. Edgar, too, having volunteered to help in the search. Dadallent was also missing, not that anyone had the thought or the courage to invite him. "Well, since we're all here, let's head out. Temperature's a comfortable sixty-five degrees, humidity low, did everyone bring spare cash?"
A chorus of affirmatives met the query. Mason and Blake led the troupe out of their hotel. "Our first stop is the mall, which should be open until midnight," Mason explained. "We get there and everybody go do your thing, but let's meet at fifteen 'til midnight at the entrance, okay?" More affirmatives followed. From some hidden coat pocket Kenneth Feng had produced a bottle of alcohol and was already busy trying to persuade Scott Wagner to share it with him. Regina, dressed in normal, everyday clothes, glanced about herself as she followed the group down a street. Kikoken occupied herself flirting with a highly uncomfortable Mason Storm.
Blake Wallis thumbed his communicator. "Apache to BEAT leader, you slackers still with us?"
"Up 'til you opened your trap, sure." There was a chuckle from the other end. "I hear you loud and clear, Apache. We're currently shadowing you guys, but there's an awful lot of night life around here. You might pass a few friendly Shadowlaw search teams along the way; just yesterday Bison volunteered a whole squad of extra searchers. I know their reputation; still, they seem harmless, at least for now. Anything else you feel needs a mention?"
"How's the traffic situation around the mall?"
"More or less normal. That is to say, thick but not congested to the point of an actual jam. No sign of danger, if that's what you mean, but then you guys stick out like a sore thumb." There was another chuckle from the BEAT captain. "A gringo, a white-haired gaijin, a foreign potsmoker, an aspiring basketball player, a black man, a white girl, and a goddess. So mutually different you could be an IDC squad."
"You're just jealous that I mastered the cultural diversity class," Blake retorted. "Well, if that's it, Apache signing out." He killed the transmission, jammed his hands into his pockets, and whistled to himself as he half-swaggered down the street, the others following closely behind him.
Because of its multiple rivers and waterways, Osaka is sometimes known as the "Venice of Japan." It is in essence a commercial and industrial city, though one filled with rich cultural elements that extend back to Hideyoshi's rule in the late 1500's. Whether by day or night the city is always a busy place, filled with activity and omnipresent traffic problems. Downtown Osaka is situated on the delta of the Yodo River, each and every block boasting multiple-story buildings. Though in recent times many canals have been filled and highways built over them, Osaka is still a very crowded locale. Most of the office complexes, store, hotels, restaurants, and entertainment centers are located downtown. The typical shopping center is actually underground due to the severe land shortage that plagues the city. Commerce is characterized by readily available goods, high prices, and ubiquitous pollution. Despite the presence of buses, commuter trains, and a subway system, the surest way to travel from one place to another in Osaka is on foot.
"Blake."
"Shut up, Darrell."
"The hell?! I haven't even -"
"Dude, cool down, it's just my way of responding to a greeting." Blake turned around and winked at Darrell, a number of colored lights reflecting on his face. "Was there something you wanted to say?"
"Yeah. We're being followed." Darrell glanced around suspiciously before continuing. "Maybe three or four behind us, one ahead, one to the left. They've been with us since we left the hotel."
"Are they armed?"
"Not with anything visible, but I wouldn't be sure." Darrell tried to look left again, but Blake seized his chin and snapped his gaze forward. "Ow! Blake!"
"Quiet! Don't want them to realize that we know we're being followed." Blake frowned and ran his hands down his jacket. He hadn't brought any weapons with him, of course; unlike Lloyd, he was no walking arsenal. "Still, six people against eleven of us, that's pretty stiff odds however you look at it. I don't think we'll be attacked, at least not in public. Or ... they could be mercenaries who wouldn't care about odds or casualties. Then we might have trouble." He might've said more, but a man appeared directly across from himself and pressed against him for a moment. Blake only had sight of him for an instant. It was enough; a series of subtle hand gestures revealed to Blake that this man, too, was a BEAT and that BEAT leader knew about the pursuit. He had also passed an order along: Maintain radio silence except in case of emergency.
"Well? What do we do?"
Blake shook his head, as if trying to clear it. "Us? Get drunk, get wasted, and get laid. The BEATs can take care of any pursuit. Oh, hey, check this out - this is the store where Karin and Ibuki decided to play hookie."
"Oh, the jewelry store!" Regina stopped walking and gazed at the storefront, everybody else halting beside her. "Have you any objections to my exploring this place?" A chorus of no's came in response; Regina pushed the doors opened and stepped inside, followed by most of the group. Blake, Darrell, and Kenneth decided to remain outdoors.
The store was nearly filled at this in the day, most of the people simply browsing, a select few actually doing business. A pair of policemen and a plainclothes agent were also present, the three of them interrogating a man who looked like the general manager of the store. Upon closer inspection, Mason Storm identified perhaps two or three BEATs in the store, searching for information while trying to appear casual. A reward poster had been hung up on the store doors, offering ten million yen for information leading to the recovery of Karin or Ibuki. It was, of course, sponsored by the Kanzuki conglomerate. Just then the plainclothes agent turned a bit and Mason realized that she was actually Samantha McGrath.
Mason glanced backwards, where Regina and Kikoken were busy working their way up the display cases, all of them full of jewelry. The stuff was extraordinarily expensive, too, considering that nearly all of it was zirconium. Well, somehow you had to turn a profit. Mason shrugged and walked up to the law enforcement officers, nodding to Samantha as he came up. "Evening, Samantha. Find anything?"
"A little, though I do not know if it helps us." Samantha indicated a pile of tapes stacked in the corner of the store and took Mason aside. "The BEATs finished looking at all of the surveillance footage. Neither of the girls appear on any of the tapes at all, but the receptionist who was at the cashier and the jeweler both remember seeing Karin and Ibuki. We interrogated them before we looked at the tapes, so you can imagine the surprise when we didn't see the girls anywhere. As far as the IDC labs can tell, none of these tapes have been tampered with. Still ... I don't know ..."
"You're certain they came in here?" Mason asked.
"I am absolutely positive. Various eyewitness accounts confirm that both girls were here. They must have remained here a long time, but regardless I'm certain that they were here." Samantha sighed in frustration. "A week has passed, so of course the spirit trail is long cold by now. More and more I fear that all we can do now is spread the word and inform as many people as possible of the situation. The tapes defy logic. I am half-convinced that they were doctored, but if so it must have been a thoroughly professional job in order to fool the IDC labs. If you find anything, it does not matter how trivial it may seem, would you bring it to Ernest as soon as - pardon me. Regina!"
"Yes, Samantha?" Regina smiled sweetly and folded her hands in front of her skirt.
Samantha walked up to her, Mason following her. "Last night you mentioned to my husband that you were certain Karin and Ibuki came this way. Can you sense anything?"
Regina nodded. "Oh, certainly. I believe that they remained here for one hour. It appears that both of them tried to exit at the end of the hour, yet ..." Regina led Mason and Samantha to a back exit. The door was not locked. "Here the trail abruptly ends. It is as though they stood here for a fleeting moment and then vanished." She frowned and leaned forward, as if regarding invisible footsteps.
"Couldn't they have retraced their steps back to the front of the store?" Mason asked.
"The spirit traces do not indicate this," Regina replied softly.
Mason felt his jaw drop; a corner of his mind noted that Samantha looked similarly stunned. "Wha -? You can tell by spirit traces after a week has gone by?" Mason half-exclaimed. "That's incredible!"
"Thank you, Mason Storm, for those words," Regina replied. She smiled sweetly but lowered her eyes, a bit shyly, not looking at the two investigators. "Please, take my hands."
Mason did so, a bit hesitantly at first, as did Samantha with Regina's other hand. Regina closed her eyes. As they made contact, instantly it was as though a whole new world had been opened to them. For Mason, it was like opening his eyes and seeing a rainbow after a lifetime spent in blindness. Strange power pulsed through him and he became acutely aware of the spiritual energy all about him - so much that it threatened to drown him. Without having to look or listen, he could pinpoint the location of any person in the room. People shone in his spiritual senses as bright pillars of light, leaving a glowing trail where they had walked. There, right in front of the door! He detected the auras of the two girls, noting that they indeed vanished just short of the door. In fact, if he gauged the distance correctly ... the aura was a bit fuzzy, but ...
Abruptly it all vanished as Regina dropped her hands and folded them again. The spiritual sensitivity faded into nothingness and Mason rubbed his eyes. Now, he understood - Regina simply saw the world in terms that he did not. Unlike McGrath or Ryu, Mason's spiritual sensitivity wasn't honed with any sort of finesse. And while McGrath or Ryu were acute enough to glimpse into the spirit world, Mason realized that they only caught traces of it, instead of seeing the panorama in the way that Regina viewed everything. Mason shook his head clear. "Wow ... just, wow ... what do you make of it?"
Samantha studied the door with a contemplative look. "Correct me if you see a flaw in my logic, but ... I believe that they walked here, slowly, then Ibuki opened the door. She moved it to about forty-five degrees - far enough that both she and Karin could see outside - and that is when the spirit traces vanish. I wonder what could have caused them to disappear so abruptly." She glanced at Regina.
She shook her head and looked down slightly. "I am sorry, but I sense nothing."
"Please do not be so hard on yourself," Samantha replied softly, and Mason realized with a start that Regina was blaming herself for her inability to do more. Score one for women's intuition. "I will go search out back. Regina, thank you for your help tonight, but please do not inconvenience yourself any longer. Enjoy yourself while the night is still young. Here." She handed Regina an IDC communicator device and tapped her own. "Be sure to give me a call later tonight should you need me." So saying, Samantha pulled the door open and slipped out the back. Mason noted that the door slowly swung back into place once Samantha released its handle. It closed with a barely audible click.
"What did she intend ...?" Regina asked, puzzled, as she studied the IDC communicator. It looked like a cellular phone and probably was one for all practical purposes.
"Beats me," Mason replied. Glancing back, he noted that most of the group had already left the building. Yin was making a purchase by the counter. "Well, shall we go? After you, Regina."
"Mason."
"Yes?"
"Thank you ... thank you for bringing me out here tonight."
"Ah, think nothing of it. It was actually Blake's idea, show you around the town, that sort of thing." He pulled the door open for her. "Everybody here? Sorry about the delay, Samantha McGrath was inside and I wanted to get caught up on how the investigation was coming along."
"She find anything?" half a dozen voices asked.
"Not that I can see," Mason replied, shrugging his broad shoulders. Kikoken reattached herself to his arm as Mason turned down the street. "Well, let's go."
They reached the mall without further incident. "It's ten o' clock right now," Mason announced. "Meet back here at fifteen 'til midnight, and no misbehaving. That means you, Kenneth!"
"Oh, can it." Kenneth swaggered off, followed by Darrell and Blake. "I'm heading off to the food court, join me if you'd like." He grumbled under his breath about the non-smoking policy. The group dispersed in all directions, going off in ones and twos and threes. Left with Kikoken, Mason suggested the downstairs food court for ice cream and Kikoken enthusiastically agreed.
Fifteen minutes later, when the last order had been processed, Blake Wallis picked idly at a plastic box filled with Chinese takeout. "Chinese food, again," he groaned. "I was aiming for the Thai cuisine, but I can never tell the difference between all these Oriental chicken-scratches that they call writing." Mason rolled his eyes; Blake enjoyed the food and they all knew it. "Stuff is horrible," Blake pronounced after a bite, but he had more regardless.
"Can't be all that bad, a billion people eat Chinese every night," Darrell pointed out.
"It's overrated," Kenneth threw in. "However, that doesn't mean that it's bad. Man! I'd sell my soul for a smoke right now."
"Smoking's bad for your health," Blake ribbed.
"Yeah, I know. But do I care?" Kenneth sighed and looked around himself. "Well, I didn't come here to shop. Leave that up to the women. How'd you guys end up in this crazy tournament, anyways?"
"Personal invitation from a friend of mine," Kikoken replied.
"I'm on assignment," Blake grumbled good-naturedly. "I'd much rather be at the beach right now."
"Well, my wife's here," Darrell pointed out.
"Bored and curious," Mason contributed.
Silence followed for a few minutes, until Kikoken finished her ice cream. "Let's share. I want to know more about everyone." She was looking at Mason when she said that.
Kenneth shrugged and pushed away a platter of stir-fried chicken. "Yeah, why not? I'll lead off. Hmm, where to begin ...?" He stared into space for a moment, then brightened. "Okay. I grew up in Japan as a kid, on the streets, for as far back as I can remember. My memory only begins at about six years old; I don't remember anything before that, but I've been able to piece together events by talking with Uncle Ken and some of the others. You see, my dad was a Shadowlaw scientist. He was the director and chief engineer of SCI, the Shadow Cyborg Initiative. I won't pretend to understand how it works. Somewhere along the line he must've developed something of a conscience, since he tried to vanish from Shadowlaw with the Shadow technology. That didn't work; Bison had him executed, but failed to find the Shadow chips. You see, my dad had implanted them in my body. This all happened before I was six, by the way.
"Once Bison realized his mistake, he dispatched agents to track me down. At that time I lived on the streets with my best friend Cranky, who is currently studying for the bar exam. We were a pair of street rats and pickpockets, the scum of society. Luckily, I met Ken Masters during this time. When Bison's agents did manage to kidnap me, Ken and Sakura followed them to Thailand." Darrell smiled, showing his teeth. "You all know how that particular battle went - Bison beat the stuffing out of Ken and Sakura. Probably would've killed them, too, if Sagat hadn't been around to snap Ryu out of the brainwashing. Good riddance, I say." Darrell was no longer smiling.
"That bought me some time, since Bison was occupied with his fights. Sometime later Rose came by and really messed Bison up in a battle. Then there was the whole Doll episode, along with the attack by the American Vigilantes. I managed to escape just before the Thailand base blew up, but ... whatever the Shadowlaw scientists did to me, it had cost my memories of everything before this point, and I'm telling the story exactly as I heard it from Ken and a few others. Well, I was a six-year-old stranded in Thailand. I must've passed out soon afterwards; when I woke up, three days later, I was in America under the guardianship of one Ken Masters, with no knowledge of my past. I never did meet Uncle Ken again until a year ago, when I went to college." He chuckled slightly at the memory. "I had no idea that he was the famous Ken Masters, action movie star.
"By the time Uncle Ken received his invitation to the tournament, Ryu had already signed up a team. That left Ken without any close friends for the tournament and Mel isn't old enough to fight in an event like this anyway, so he tapped me. At first, I was going to refuse - heck, I go to a tough college - but then he mentioned that Bison would also be there. You can imagine that this bit of information troubled me to no end. I agreed to show up with Ken and here I am. I've kept in touch with Cranky over the years." Kenneth pressed his palms together and rested his chin on his hands. "Well, that's my story. Truckload of junk, wasn't it?" He said something unprintable about his father and M. Bison and life in general.
(A/N: Kenneth's backstory was heavily edited to reconcile it with the established storyline.)
"Well, I can't say that I went through the same type of experiences," Blake said. "I grew up kinda like you, Kenneth, with one big difference: I was part of a close-knit and tightly supportive family. My father immigrated from Ireland to the States when I was just a wee little toddler. I never knew my mother; she died shortly after childbirth, you see. That left only my dad Timothy, my big sister Ryce, and of course myself. Well, before you knew it we'd run out of money. Heck, for as far back as I can remember I grew up on the streets, always scrounging for money and every last scrap of food a person could find. I learned my guns and knives before I learned my ABCs, that's how rough the neighborhood was. Learned how to keep myself intact in a scrap, too, at an early age. They don't call us the 'fighting Irish' for nothing.
"Now, you'd think that we'd be miserable like this, but nope. My dad saw to it that my sister and I got a proper schooling despite the way we grew up. He raised us up properly: no drinking, no smoking, no drugs, no swearing, none of the stuff that makes life enjoyable. We were perpetually short of money and food but still a happy family nonetheless. Of course, nothing good ever lasts. When I was about seventeen or so years old, my father and my sister were both gunned down by a gang. I wasn't there to actually see it since I was down at the police station answering a drug charge. By the time they let me go, my dad and my sister were already several hours dead. That event broke my heart, which is why I don't have any left.
"The state paid for the funeral. As luck would have it, right afterwards I was nearly killed by the same gang, apparently out for my blood, too. Now, any Irishman my age will tell you, you so much as look at the folks improperly and you better sleep with one eye open. I lived for vengeance. Four years later, after I'd exacted my revenge, I was recruited by the IDC. Even in the IDC, though, I was always a behavioral case - Dr. McGrath says I set a new record for the number of black marks earned in boot camp. IDC training, by the way, is hell. Boot camp lasts for a full year and if they don't kill you they'll turn you into one heck of a soldier. Much later, McGrath specifically requested me as a member of the Phantom strike force. Must've been my good looks." Kikoken grimaced.
"As a Phantom, I got to participate in all sorts of operations judged too dangerous for a normal team. I also hold the strike force record for greatest number of close escapes from death as well as the most bones broken in the line of duty, seventy-one. About New Year's last year, our strike force was gathering critical information leading up to the final stages of preparation for the biggest operation the IDC had ever taken, Operation Judgment. Dr. McGrath was nearly killed during that particular mission and had to sit out Operation Judgment. As for me, I was almost killed during the operation itself - Lloyd and I had to fight the top soldier of the United Front, you see. As if that hadn't been enough, next year comes by and we have to fight a full-fledged war against the United States." Blake paused for a moment, but no explanation was needed. Mason nodded; he knew about the legendary War of Ascendancy, the war that had wiped out two full American land corps and then some, as well as effectively cutting the IDC's strength in half. They all knew about the war, instigated because high-ranking American officials had been convinced that the IDC was a terrorist organization. And while the loss of a pair of field armies was bad enough, worse was the revelation that it had been a terrible mistake, as the IDC was nothing of a terrorist organization at all. "My injuries put me out of action for a month. Next thing you know, I've been invited to some tournament," Blake concluded. "You, Mason?"
"Me?" Mason finished the last traces of his ice cream and set the cup aside. "Well, you've probably heard the story before, but ... when I was only seven years old, Bison executed my family. My dad, apparently, worked for Shadowlaw and decided that he didn't like it there. Bison missed me during the attack, though. FBI agent Duke Marshall adopted me and he's been an exemplary role model. I followed him into law enforcement and I was there behind the scenes when the American Vigilantes went after Bison. After the second World Warrior tournament, when we were convinced that Bison was gone for good, I decided to lay back a bit and take an office job. Like you, Kenneth, I was brought here mainly by the rumor that Bison had returned."
"Oh, Mason, you're so brave," Kikoken gushed.
Darrell and Kenneth glanced at each other before the former pointed out, "You know, he's married."
Kikoken sprang back from Mason as though his skin had burned her. "What?! You're married? Mason Storm, how could you betray me like that?! Why didn't you mention that you ... you were married? I ... I had feelings ..." She choked back her tears while Mason could only stare, too surprised to say anything, noting resentfully that Darrell and Kenneth had doubled over with silent laughter behind Kikoken's back. "I love you, Mason ... but you betrayed that love ... like a rose that blooms in the wintertime, so cruelly swept away by the elements ... et tú, Bruté?" she shouted. A moment later she fled from the table, tears streaming down her face.
"Talk about an overreaction ..." Darrell began.
He was abruptly cut off when Mason reached across the table, seized the front of his shirt, and pulled him to within an inch of an unsmiling face. "You bastard," Mason growled in a low voice, "what the heck did you think you were doing?"
"Hey, I just wanted to see how she'd react!" Darrell protested.
Mason shoved him backwards, hard, and Darrell nearly fell over his chair, caught by Blake and Kenneth at the last moment. "Hmph. Kids like you ... I'm going after her, to apologize on your behalf." Mason rose without another word, only pausing to throw away his empty ice cream cup and Kikoken's. Then he stormed out of the food court without so much as a backward glance. All three of the men left at the table watched him leave with mixed feelings.
Darrell scratched his head. "You think it was something I said?"
"No, I think it's the way you look," Blake threw in. When Darrell shot him a black glare, Blake continued, "To be serious, think about it, Darrell. You had to have realized that your offhand remark could ruin a promising romance, and unfortunately it did. Some things are safe to joke about, others aren't. For example, would you ever tease your wife about her weight?" The ensuing silence was all the answer that Blake needed. "I got to give you credit, though, for separating the Siamese twins. Ten dollars says that Kikoken will give Mason the tongue-lashing of his life before he can explain that he isn't married at all."
"C'mon, guys, let's break," Kenneth suggested after a moment's pause. They disposed of their items and together they ambled away leisurely. "See anything interesting?"
Blake consulted his chronometer. "Not to my eyes. Well, it's eleven o' clock right now, why don't we go to the rendezvous point? Nothing else here to do." Neither Darrell nor Kenneth had any better ideas, so they picked their way towards the entrance of the mall. "Huh, Regina, you here already?"
"Oh, good evening." Regina nodded a greeting towards the three men. She was sitting outside on one of the benches located just above ground, a bird perched on her hand. "I trust you all enjoyed yourselves?"
Blake cleared his throat. "Say, Regina, I've been thinking -"
"What a novelty," Darrell interjected.
Without a pause in his stride, Blake flung his right arm up and nearly broke Darrell's nose. "I've been thinking that we can't have you go around talking like that. You sound like a textbook on old-fashioned languages. I mean no offense when I say this, but you do stick out like a sore thumb. It'd be nicer if you'd talk more like us - it draws less attention." Behind Blake, Darrell swore in three different languages.
"Is that so?" Regina queried, eyes wide with interest. She looked away for a moment, said something to the bird, and then sent it flying away. "Please, tell me more."
By this time Kenneth had also picked up on Blake's train of thought. "Well, to begin with, you could try saying 'Hi' or 'Hello' instead of the more formal 'Good evening.' Blake's right, you'll probably want to fit in more with the group and you can start by adjusting the way you talk." He glanced around, just to make sure that Gill wasn't somehow eavesdropping and taking offense. "We think it'd suit you."
"Truly?" Regina smiled. "Then I shall try my best."
"No, no no!" Darrell cut in. "That's exactly what we're trying to avoid. Say something like ... 'Alrighty then!' Go on, try it."
"A - alrighty, then!" Regina acknowledged. She giggled a moment later as Blake flashed a thumbs up and Kenneth exchange a high-five with Darrell. "So, tell me, how is it that you talk?"
They spent the next half hour coaching Regina on speaking "like a citizen of the Earth," in Kenneth's words. "You're getting better and better," Darrell noted approvingly.
"Thanks for the compliment," Regina replied, flashing a brilliant smile.
"There's a difference between conversational language and low-level language, though I'm sure you know the difference," Blake added. "Me, for example, I only speak two languages, namely bad English and worse English. Darrell here speaks English and Ebonics and also has a working knowledge of Japanese. Kenneth I'm less clear about. Just two things: First, remember to obey all the rules of proper grammar. Us three, we're beyond hope when it comes to that. And second, don't cuss. A guy who swears is cool, but a girl who does it isn't. If there's -"
At that moment, Blake was distracted by the sound of a metallic object landing with a heavy clunk to his left. Probably someone dropped an unopened can of Coke, he thought to himself, but upon second glance - "Get down!" He suited his own words by tackling Regina and bringing her to the ground. A moment later, the canister exploded in a flash of light that blinded everyone for a moment, as well as numbing the ears of all present with a deafening peal of sound. Blake was shouting without really hearing what he was saying. Blasted flash-bang grenades. A moment later a bullet ricocheted from a tile just an inch from his face. Blake spun around, searching for the nearest cover. A quick glance confirmed that Darrell and Kenneth were also very much alive. He vaulted over a brick wall and pulled the other three after him, his hearing and vision both gradually returning. He fumbled for a moment, then swore lividly. The IDC communicator issued to him had apparently been crushed in his dive.
"Here!" Regina tossed her own communicator at him, Blake dimly aware that she was nearly shouting. Then, in a confused voice, "What do they want?"
"Darned if I know!" Blake shouted back, barely audible over the zing of bullets flying past. Now that he thought about it, he'd picked a terrible hiding spot where they were essentially trapped between a wall and a ledge with a semicircle of attackers in front of them. And to top it all off, he was totally unarmed. "BEAT leader, this is Apache! We're pinned down in front of the mall and taking heavy fire. Three friendlies along with me here. We need whatever you can throw together and we need it fast!"
"I'd love to help you, Apache, but I'm kinda busy myself," the BEAT replied in a terse tone. Blake frowned; he couldn't tell if the sound of flying bullets was coming from the communicator or from all around him. The BEAT confirmed his guess a moment later. "We're under fire, too, it'll take us at least twenty minutes to extricate ourselves and hightail to your position. Maybe Starcrash or Keychain will have some backup. BEAT leader, out."
Blake swore, glancing back where Kenneth and Darrell crouched. A number of bullets littered the ground around them and more dropped in as Blake frantically raised another channel. Calling McGrath was out of the question - he was near the suburbs last Blake heard, and it would take him half an hour to arrive - but maybe Samantha could be reached in time, if she hadn't left the jewelry store. "Keychain, this is Apache. Respond, blast it!"
"Keychain acknowledging," came Samantha's firm voice. "How many?"
Blake chanced a glance over the protective brick wall. "Five or six, armed with knives and automatic weapons. We're just outside the mall and BEAT leader says that he's pinned down, too." He swore as a bullet nearly clipped him.
"On my way. I should arrive with three full teams in five minutes. Keychain out." The communicator died away and Blake crouched low. Then he abruptly realized that Regina's eyes were focused on the situation and she had her hands held in some sort of gesture. "Regina, you ...?"
"This shield will deflect any bullets that come our way," Regina assured him.
The shooting abruptly ceased, leaving only a quiet broken by faint screaming in the distance. Probably some nearby civilians, Blake reasoned to himself. He peeked over the brick wall. "Blast it, they're coming in with knives. Four commandos in front, two about thirty meters behind them ready to offer support fire. Although, hmm ... Darrell, Kenneth, you guys thinking what I'm thinking?"
Darrell cracked his knuckles. "Haven't had a good brawl for a long time."
"Right." Blake winked.
"Um, what are you three planning to ...?" Regina began.
"Don't worry about us." Blake's eyes now held a dangerous glint. "Stay here, just make sure that your shield deflects anything that comes from the outside, okay?"
"Alrighty, then. Be careful."
The nameless commandos had nearly reached the scene when Blake, Darrell, and Kenneth simultaneously vaulted over the brick wall. Though caught by surprise, they reacted with admirable efficiency. Blake swung with a heavy kick, missing his target but landing softly in a crouch. "These two are mine! Pick your targets and sic 'em, boys!" So saying, he ducked a tightly-controlled slash and his leg shot out, clipping one of the commandos by the knees. A moment later, Kenneth launched a Whipcrack Kick through the window that Blake had just cleared. It landed solidly on the commando; unfortunately, someone slashed at him from behind and Kenneth's back instantly began to bleed. It wasn't a serious wound, but it did effectively stop the momentum of the attack. "Hey, find your own victims!" Blake shouted indignantly.
"Sheesh, see if I help you again!" Kenneth shot back, ducking a high swing. He tried to step back but bumped into Darrell and the commando went in for the kill, landing a heavy blow squarely on Kenneth's jaw. "Bastard."
Darrell, for his part, had a commando all to himself. They traded half a dozen blows, Darrell managing to hit his opponent with a solid uppercut at the cost of a pair of slashes on his arms. His position was bad and both he and his opponent realized it. The commando came in hard and fast, trying to get him to bump into Kenneth again. "Hadouken!" Darrell launched an energy wave from his hands; the commando rolled under it and Darrell tried for an ax kick, only to have his supporting leg swept from behind by another commando. He swore and rolled himself upright. Gotta stick to the basics, that's what Ryu and McGrath always say. Don't try anything fancy. When the commando attempted to rush him, however, Darrell succumbed to the urge. Heh heh heh, fool, I wonder how you'll like my Rekka Nakkura?
He slid forward a little to meet his opponent and succeeded in grabbing his foe at close range, intending to beat the daylights out of the commando with one of his super techniques. He began with a heavy punch right in the stomach; simultaneously, the commando's knife located his ribs and his enemy stabbed mercilessly. The shock of the attack nearly knocked Darrell out. His vision swam for a moment, but now that he'd started his attack he couldn't call it off. Darrell dropped and aimed a fast kick, his muscles screaming in protest, then turned around and impaled his enemy on his flaming sword. He'd have to cut the attack short - he was already beginning to move slowly - but it was enough. Darrell pressed his palms against his opponent's chest, at the same time fighting back the agonizing pain through sheer force of will. A moment later his palms exploded in fire, sending the commando tumbling backwards scorched beyond recognition. Darrell cursed and reached for the knife buried in his side, at the same time noting that the two commandos set to lay down cover fire had broken from their positions and were coming in to help. I won't be able to take both of them at once, not like this. Where the heck is our backup?! He wrenched the knife free, gasping as the blade came loose. Blood immediately began to pour down his expensive silk shirt.
Blake took in the situation with one glance. Kenneth Feng had also disposed of his opponent, though he looked badly beaten. Blake himself had already dispatched one of his foes. He was accustomed to close quarter, short-range combat and he focused on his one remaining assailant. He'd taken half a dozen slashes that had left him bloody; on the other hand, his opponent was suffering from a broken arm and several cracked ribs. When the commando tried to parry a close range punch with a slash from his knife, Blake zero cancelled the move into his Wolf Tackle, seizing his opponent by the waist and then going into an aerial back drop. He landed the commando on his neck; there was a most satisfying crunch as the spine gave way.
But there was barely any time to think, for the other two commandos were nearly upon them. Blake put his back to Kenneth and Darrell. Loss of blood was beginning to make him unsteady, but he was aware that both of his friends were worse off. The commandos split apart, one of them circling to his left and the other to his right. Blasted enemies; they were certainly well-trained. He didn't recognize any telltale insignias. He designated the man to the right as his target; if Darrell and Kenneth could hold out long enough, he could take both of the commandos separately.
Kenneth staggered to his feet as the commando came by, brandishing a wicked-looking knife. He blocked an initial strike and retaliated with a frontal kick. Apparently his opponent had anticipated the response, for the next moment Kenneth found himself caught by the shoulders. The commando tripped him and laid him on the ground, but Kenneth had a response ready. Heck, McGrath did it just a few hours ago in his own match, why shouldn't I? Even as Kenneth fell to the ground, he caught the commando's shoulders and pulled the man into a circle throw, levering his opponent over himself. The effort strained his muscles and he was acutely aware of the pain over his whole body. With a last, mighty effort, Kenneth threw all the force he could summon into the pull and sent the commando flying. His foe's arc was halted in midair when Darrell slashed at him with a flaming blade in mid-flight. The commando dropped to the ground, permanently.
Having dealt with his opponent, Darrell glanced to his right, but there was no need for concern. Even as he watched, Blake yelled "Game over!" and rushed the commando with a storm of close-range punches and kicks. The commando blocked; however, he guard-crushed after the sixth hit and a few seconds later it was all over. Blake shook his head clear and sank to his knees. He was covered in blood, most of it his own.
"Are you alright?!" Regina cried, emerging from behind the brick wall and running to the three fighters.
"No, wait -!" Blake called weakly. Regina had stopped just in front of Darrell and Kenneth, but Blake's eyes had caught more movement on the periphery. There, from the parking lot ... as he watched, twenty or more commandos emerged, each armed to the teeth with automatic weapons. Regina glanced up and froze like a deer caught in headlights. Blake swore at the change in fortune with all his heart. Samantha, you're too late, he thought to himself as the commandos opened fire. He closed his eyes.
The bullets ran into an invisible barrier and slid to the ground, harmless. Glancing up, Kenneth and Darrell both saw that Regina had placed herself in front of them, arms held out and palms open. They could both sense the power that she had woven around them; as each bullet hit her shield, it caused a small ripple of color and then dropped to the ground with an inaudible clink. The noise of the automatic weaponry was deafening. Kenneth and Darrell both winced as the commandos lobbed a few grenades their way, but apparently Regina's defense held up against that, too. Smoke from the explosives obscured the view for a few moments.
Suddenly, another explosion of smoke occurred, this one easily larger than all the rest. A hot wind swept across all four of them and blinded Darrell for a moment. The gunfire abruptly ceased, too. Must be the IDC reinforcements. They sure took long enough. But I don't hear any sound of combat at all. Then the smoke drifted away on a random wind gust and he realized that the explosion hadn't been caused by IDC forces at all. The commandos beyond Regina were also staring. That figure, in the clearing smoke ... Darrell willed himself to disbelieve what his eyes were telling him. As he recognized exactly who it was, the cold grip of fear seemed to constrict ever more tightly around his consciousness. The man's back was turned but his image was unmistakable from any angle. "D-Dadallent?!"
"The grim reaper has come for you," Dadallent stated coldly.
Author's Notes: While I haven't been as thorough with my research as I should have been, for now we'll take a break from the carnage and mayhem of the tournament and instead focus on lighter-hearted material. That's right, the OCs. Part of the purpose behind Colliding Worlds is to flesh out the original characters, which is why they come complete with a movelist. Also, during the tournament they'll discuss their own histories. Enjoy.
Osaka, Japan
Fifteen minutes have passed
"Sorry we're late!" Heads in all directions simultaneously turned as Darrell Markis and Kenneth Feng barreled down the stairs, the latter still in the process of pulling on a leather jacket. Darrell produced a pair of shades and Kenneth a comb. "All set!"
"Sure took your sweet time," Scott Wagner grumbled.
"Anyway, what's going on?" Darrell asked, ignoring Scott. The Senior Airman glowered at him.
"It's original characters' night out!" Mason Storm proclaimed grandly. "Tonight, we're going to show Regina around the town, so Blake and I invited every other OC to come along. We're missing a few, but anyways I'm sure we'll have a grand time." He swept his gaze across the room, including everyone in his speech. Besides himself, he counted ten others present: Kikoken, Kirina, Scott Wagner, Mitsukake Kagatoshi, Yin Lee, Chan Yoruyamatiha, Blake Wallis, Darrell Markis, Kenneth Feng, and of course Regina. Conspicuously absent were McGrath and the Phantoms - probably out looking for the girls. Edgar, too, having volunteered to help in the search. Dadallent was also missing, not that anyone had the thought or the courage to invite him. "Well, since we're all here, let's head out. Temperature's a comfortable sixty-five degrees, humidity low, did everyone bring spare cash?"
A chorus of affirmatives met the query. Mason and Blake led the troupe out of their hotel. "Our first stop is the mall, which should be open until midnight," Mason explained. "We get there and everybody go do your thing, but let's meet at fifteen 'til midnight at the entrance, okay?" More affirmatives followed. From some hidden coat pocket Kenneth Feng had produced a bottle of alcohol and was already busy trying to persuade Scott Wagner to share it with him. Regina, dressed in normal, everyday clothes, glanced about herself as she followed the group down a street. Kikoken occupied herself flirting with a highly uncomfortable Mason Storm.
Blake Wallis thumbed his communicator. "Apache to BEAT leader, you slackers still with us?"
"Up 'til you opened your trap, sure." There was a chuckle from the other end. "I hear you loud and clear, Apache. We're currently shadowing you guys, but there's an awful lot of night life around here. You might pass a few friendly Shadowlaw search teams along the way; just yesterday Bison volunteered a whole squad of extra searchers. I know their reputation; still, they seem harmless, at least for now. Anything else you feel needs a mention?"
"How's the traffic situation around the mall?"
"More or less normal. That is to say, thick but not congested to the point of an actual jam. No sign of danger, if that's what you mean, but then you guys stick out like a sore thumb." There was another chuckle from the BEAT captain. "A gringo, a white-haired gaijin, a foreign potsmoker, an aspiring basketball player, a black man, a white girl, and a goddess. So mutually different you could be an IDC squad."
"You're just jealous that I mastered the cultural diversity class," Blake retorted. "Well, if that's it, Apache signing out." He killed the transmission, jammed his hands into his pockets, and whistled to himself as he half-swaggered down the street, the others following closely behind him.
Because of its multiple rivers and waterways, Osaka is sometimes known as the "Venice of Japan." It is in essence a commercial and industrial city, though one filled with rich cultural elements that extend back to Hideyoshi's rule in the late 1500's. Whether by day or night the city is always a busy place, filled with activity and omnipresent traffic problems. Downtown Osaka is situated on the delta of the Yodo River, each and every block boasting multiple-story buildings. Though in recent times many canals have been filled and highways built over them, Osaka is still a very crowded locale. Most of the office complexes, store, hotels, restaurants, and entertainment centers are located downtown. The typical shopping center is actually underground due to the severe land shortage that plagues the city. Commerce is characterized by readily available goods, high prices, and ubiquitous pollution. Despite the presence of buses, commuter trains, and a subway system, the surest way to travel from one place to another in Osaka is on foot.
"Blake."
"Shut up, Darrell."
"The hell?! I haven't even -"
"Dude, cool down, it's just my way of responding to a greeting." Blake turned around and winked at Darrell, a number of colored lights reflecting on his face. "Was there something you wanted to say?"
"Yeah. We're being followed." Darrell glanced around suspiciously before continuing. "Maybe three or four behind us, one ahead, one to the left. They've been with us since we left the hotel."
"Are they armed?"
"Not with anything visible, but I wouldn't be sure." Darrell tried to look left again, but Blake seized his chin and snapped his gaze forward. "Ow! Blake!"
"Quiet! Don't want them to realize that we know we're being followed." Blake frowned and ran his hands down his jacket. He hadn't brought any weapons with him, of course; unlike Lloyd, he was no walking arsenal. "Still, six people against eleven of us, that's pretty stiff odds however you look at it. I don't think we'll be attacked, at least not in public. Or ... they could be mercenaries who wouldn't care about odds or casualties. Then we might have trouble." He might've said more, but a man appeared directly across from himself and pressed against him for a moment. Blake only had sight of him for an instant. It was enough; a series of subtle hand gestures revealed to Blake that this man, too, was a BEAT and that BEAT leader knew about the pursuit. He had also passed an order along: Maintain radio silence except in case of emergency.
"Well? What do we do?"
Blake shook his head, as if trying to clear it. "Us? Get drunk, get wasted, and get laid. The BEATs can take care of any pursuit. Oh, hey, check this out - this is the store where Karin and Ibuki decided to play hookie."
"Oh, the jewelry store!" Regina stopped walking and gazed at the storefront, everybody else halting beside her. "Have you any objections to my exploring this place?" A chorus of no's came in response; Regina pushed the doors opened and stepped inside, followed by most of the group. Blake, Darrell, and Kenneth decided to remain outdoors.
The store was nearly filled at this in the day, most of the people simply browsing, a select few actually doing business. A pair of policemen and a plainclothes agent were also present, the three of them interrogating a man who looked like the general manager of the store. Upon closer inspection, Mason Storm identified perhaps two or three BEATs in the store, searching for information while trying to appear casual. A reward poster had been hung up on the store doors, offering ten million yen for information leading to the recovery of Karin or Ibuki. It was, of course, sponsored by the Kanzuki conglomerate. Just then the plainclothes agent turned a bit and Mason realized that she was actually Samantha McGrath.
Mason glanced backwards, where Regina and Kikoken were busy working their way up the display cases, all of them full of jewelry. The stuff was extraordinarily expensive, too, considering that nearly all of it was zirconium. Well, somehow you had to turn a profit. Mason shrugged and walked up to the law enforcement officers, nodding to Samantha as he came up. "Evening, Samantha. Find anything?"
"A little, though I do not know if it helps us." Samantha indicated a pile of tapes stacked in the corner of the store and took Mason aside. "The BEATs finished looking at all of the surveillance footage. Neither of the girls appear on any of the tapes at all, but the receptionist who was at the cashier and the jeweler both remember seeing Karin and Ibuki. We interrogated them before we looked at the tapes, so you can imagine the surprise when we didn't see the girls anywhere. As far as the IDC labs can tell, none of these tapes have been tampered with. Still ... I don't know ..."
"You're certain they came in here?" Mason asked.
"I am absolutely positive. Various eyewitness accounts confirm that both girls were here. They must have remained here a long time, but regardless I'm certain that they were here." Samantha sighed in frustration. "A week has passed, so of course the spirit trail is long cold by now. More and more I fear that all we can do now is spread the word and inform as many people as possible of the situation. The tapes defy logic. I am half-convinced that they were doctored, but if so it must have been a thoroughly professional job in order to fool the IDC labs. If you find anything, it does not matter how trivial it may seem, would you bring it to Ernest as soon as - pardon me. Regina!"
"Yes, Samantha?" Regina smiled sweetly and folded her hands in front of her skirt.
Samantha walked up to her, Mason following her. "Last night you mentioned to my husband that you were certain Karin and Ibuki came this way. Can you sense anything?"
Regina nodded. "Oh, certainly. I believe that they remained here for one hour. It appears that both of them tried to exit at the end of the hour, yet ..." Regina led Mason and Samantha to a back exit. The door was not locked. "Here the trail abruptly ends. It is as though they stood here for a fleeting moment and then vanished." She frowned and leaned forward, as if regarding invisible footsteps.
"Couldn't they have retraced their steps back to the front of the store?" Mason asked.
"The spirit traces do not indicate this," Regina replied softly.
Mason felt his jaw drop; a corner of his mind noted that Samantha looked similarly stunned. "Wha -? You can tell by spirit traces after a week has gone by?" Mason half-exclaimed. "That's incredible!"
"Thank you, Mason Storm, for those words," Regina replied. She smiled sweetly but lowered her eyes, a bit shyly, not looking at the two investigators. "Please, take my hands."
Mason did so, a bit hesitantly at first, as did Samantha with Regina's other hand. Regina closed her eyes. As they made contact, instantly it was as though a whole new world had been opened to them. For Mason, it was like opening his eyes and seeing a rainbow after a lifetime spent in blindness. Strange power pulsed through him and he became acutely aware of the spiritual energy all about him - so much that it threatened to drown him. Without having to look or listen, he could pinpoint the location of any person in the room. People shone in his spiritual senses as bright pillars of light, leaving a glowing trail where they had walked. There, right in front of the door! He detected the auras of the two girls, noting that they indeed vanished just short of the door. In fact, if he gauged the distance correctly ... the aura was a bit fuzzy, but ...
Abruptly it all vanished as Regina dropped her hands and folded them again. The spiritual sensitivity faded into nothingness and Mason rubbed his eyes. Now, he understood - Regina simply saw the world in terms that he did not. Unlike McGrath or Ryu, Mason's spiritual sensitivity wasn't honed with any sort of finesse. And while McGrath or Ryu were acute enough to glimpse into the spirit world, Mason realized that they only caught traces of it, instead of seeing the panorama in the way that Regina viewed everything. Mason shook his head clear. "Wow ... just, wow ... what do you make of it?"
Samantha studied the door with a contemplative look. "Correct me if you see a flaw in my logic, but ... I believe that they walked here, slowly, then Ibuki opened the door. She moved it to about forty-five degrees - far enough that both she and Karin could see outside - and that is when the spirit traces vanish. I wonder what could have caused them to disappear so abruptly." She glanced at Regina.
She shook her head and looked down slightly. "I am sorry, but I sense nothing."
"Please do not be so hard on yourself," Samantha replied softly, and Mason realized with a start that Regina was blaming herself for her inability to do more. Score one for women's intuition. "I will go search out back. Regina, thank you for your help tonight, but please do not inconvenience yourself any longer. Enjoy yourself while the night is still young. Here." She handed Regina an IDC communicator device and tapped her own. "Be sure to give me a call later tonight should you need me." So saying, Samantha pulled the door open and slipped out the back. Mason noted that the door slowly swung back into place once Samantha released its handle. It closed with a barely audible click.
"What did she intend ...?" Regina asked, puzzled, as she studied the IDC communicator. It looked like a cellular phone and probably was one for all practical purposes.
"Beats me," Mason replied. Glancing back, he noted that most of the group had already left the building. Yin was making a purchase by the counter. "Well, shall we go? After you, Regina."
"Mason."
"Yes?"
"Thank you ... thank you for bringing me out here tonight."
"Ah, think nothing of it. It was actually Blake's idea, show you around the town, that sort of thing." He pulled the door open for her. "Everybody here? Sorry about the delay, Samantha McGrath was inside and I wanted to get caught up on how the investigation was coming along."
"She find anything?" half a dozen voices asked.
"Not that I can see," Mason replied, shrugging his broad shoulders. Kikoken reattached herself to his arm as Mason turned down the street. "Well, let's go."
They reached the mall without further incident. "It's ten o' clock right now," Mason announced. "Meet back here at fifteen 'til midnight, and no misbehaving. That means you, Kenneth!"
"Oh, can it." Kenneth swaggered off, followed by Darrell and Blake. "I'm heading off to the food court, join me if you'd like." He grumbled under his breath about the non-smoking policy. The group dispersed in all directions, going off in ones and twos and threes. Left with Kikoken, Mason suggested the downstairs food court for ice cream and Kikoken enthusiastically agreed.
Fifteen minutes later, when the last order had been processed, Blake Wallis picked idly at a plastic box filled with Chinese takeout. "Chinese food, again," he groaned. "I was aiming for the Thai cuisine, but I can never tell the difference between all these Oriental chicken-scratches that they call writing." Mason rolled his eyes; Blake enjoyed the food and they all knew it. "Stuff is horrible," Blake pronounced after a bite, but he had more regardless.
"Can't be all that bad, a billion people eat Chinese every night," Darrell pointed out.
"It's overrated," Kenneth threw in. "However, that doesn't mean that it's bad. Man! I'd sell my soul for a smoke right now."
"Smoking's bad for your health," Blake ribbed.
"Yeah, I know. But do I care?" Kenneth sighed and looked around himself. "Well, I didn't come here to shop. Leave that up to the women. How'd you guys end up in this crazy tournament, anyways?"
"Personal invitation from a friend of mine," Kikoken replied.
"I'm on assignment," Blake grumbled good-naturedly. "I'd much rather be at the beach right now."
"Well, my wife's here," Darrell pointed out.
"Bored and curious," Mason contributed.
Silence followed for a few minutes, until Kikoken finished her ice cream. "Let's share. I want to know more about everyone." She was looking at Mason when she said that.
Kenneth shrugged and pushed away a platter of stir-fried chicken. "Yeah, why not? I'll lead off. Hmm, where to begin ...?" He stared into space for a moment, then brightened. "Okay. I grew up in Japan as a kid, on the streets, for as far back as I can remember. My memory only begins at about six years old; I don't remember anything before that, but I've been able to piece together events by talking with Uncle Ken and some of the others. You see, my dad was a Shadowlaw scientist. He was the director and chief engineer of SCI, the Shadow Cyborg Initiative. I won't pretend to understand how it works. Somewhere along the line he must've developed something of a conscience, since he tried to vanish from Shadowlaw with the Shadow technology. That didn't work; Bison had him executed, but failed to find the Shadow chips. You see, my dad had implanted them in my body. This all happened before I was six, by the way.
"Once Bison realized his mistake, he dispatched agents to track me down. At that time I lived on the streets with my best friend Cranky, who is currently studying for the bar exam. We were a pair of street rats and pickpockets, the scum of society. Luckily, I met Ken Masters during this time. When Bison's agents did manage to kidnap me, Ken and Sakura followed them to Thailand." Darrell smiled, showing his teeth. "You all know how that particular battle went - Bison beat the stuffing out of Ken and Sakura. Probably would've killed them, too, if Sagat hadn't been around to snap Ryu out of the brainwashing. Good riddance, I say." Darrell was no longer smiling.
"That bought me some time, since Bison was occupied with his fights. Sometime later Rose came by and really messed Bison up in a battle. Then there was the whole Doll episode, along with the attack by the American Vigilantes. I managed to escape just before the Thailand base blew up, but ... whatever the Shadowlaw scientists did to me, it had cost my memories of everything before this point, and I'm telling the story exactly as I heard it from Ken and a few others. Well, I was a six-year-old stranded in Thailand. I must've passed out soon afterwards; when I woke up, three days later, I was in America under the guardianship of one Ken Masters, with no knowledge of my past. I never did meet Uncle Ken again until a year ago, when I went to college." He chuckled slightly at the memory. "I had no idea that he was the famous Ken Masters, action movie star.
"By the time Uncle Ken received his invitation to the tournament, Ryu had already signed up a team. That left Ken without any close friends for the tournament and Mel isn't old enough to fight in an event like this anyway, so he tapped me. At first, I was going to refuse - heck, I go to a tough college - but then he mentioned that Bison would also be there. You can imagine that this bit of information troubled me to no end. I agreed to show up with Ken and here I am. I've kept in touch with Cranky over the years." Kenneth pressed his palms together and rested his chin on his hands. "Well, that's my story. Truckload of junk, wasn't it?" He said something unprintable about his father and M. Bison and life in general.
(A/N: Kenneth's backstory was heavily edited to reconcile it with the established storyline.)
"Well, I can't say that I went through the same type of experiences," Blake said. "I grew up kinda like you, Kenneth, with one big difference: I was part of a close-knit and tightly supportive family. My father immigrated from Ireland to the States when I was just a wee little toddler. I never knew my mother; she died shortly after childbirth, you see. That left only my dad Timothy, my big sister Ryce, and of course myself. Well, before you knew it we'd run out of money. Heck, for as far back as I can remember I grew up on the streets, always scrounging for money and every last scrap of food a person could find. I learned my guns and knives before I learned my ABCs, that's how rough the neighborhood was. Learned how to keep myself intact in a scrap, too, at an early age. They don't call us the 'fighting Irish' for nothing.
"Now, you'd think that we'd be miserable like this, but nope. My dad saw to it that my sister and I got a proper schooling despite the way we grew up. He raised us up properly: no drinking, no smoking, no drugs, no swearing, none of the stuff that makes life enjoyable. We were perpetually short of money and food but still a happy family nonetheless. Of course, nothing good ever lasts. When I was about seventeen or so years old, my father and my sister were both gunned down by a gang. I wasn't there to actually see it since I was down at the police station answering a drug charge. By the time they let me go, my dad and my sister were already several hours dead. That event broke my heart, which is why I don't have any left.
"The state paid for the funeral. As luck would have it, right afterwards I was nearly killed by the same gang, apparently out for my blood, too. Now, any Irishman my age will tell you, you so much as look at the folks improperly and you better sleep with one eye open. I lived for vengeance. Four years later, after I'd exacted my revenge, I was recruited by the IDC. Even in the IDC, though, I was always a behavioral case - Dr. McGrath says I set a new record for the number of black marks earned in boot camp. IDC training, by the way, is hell. Boot camp lasts for a full year and if they don't kill you they'll turn you into one heck of a soldier. Much later, McGrath specifically requested me as a member of the Phantom strike force. Must've been my good looks." Kikoken grimaced.
"As a Phantom, I got to participate in all sorts of operations judged too dangerous for a normal team. I also hold the strike force record for greatest number of close escapes from death as well as the most bones broken in the line of duty, seventy-one. About New Year's last year, our strike force was gathering critical information leading up to the final stages of preparation for the biggest operation the IDC had ever taken, Operation Judgment. Dr. McGrath was nearly killed during that particular mission and had to sit out Operation Judgment. As for me, I was almost killed during the operation itself - Lloyd and I had to fight the top soldier of the United Front, you see. As if that hadn't been enough, next year comes by and we have to fight a full-fledged war against the United States." Blake paused for a moment, but no explanation was needed. Mason nodded; he knew about the legendary War of Ascendancy, the war that had wiped out two full American land corps and then some, as well as effectively cutting the IDC's strength in half. They all knew about the war, instigated because high-ranking American officials had been convinced that the IDC was a terrorist organization. And while the loss of a pair of field armies was bad enough, worse was the revelation that it had been a terrible mistake, as the IDC was nothing of a terrorist organization at all. "My injuries put me out of action for a month. Next thing you know, I've been invited to some tournament," Blake concluded. "You, Mason?"
"Me?" Mason finished the last traces of his ice cream and set the cup aside. "Well, you've probably heard the story before, but ... when I was only seven years old, Bison executed my family. My dad, apparently, worked for Shadowlaw and decided that he didn't like it there. Bison missed me during the attack, though. FBI agent Duke Marshall adopted me and he's been an exemplary role model. I followed him into law enforcement and I was there behind the scenes when the American Vigilantes went after Bison. After the second World Warrior tournament, when we were convinced that Bison was gone for good, I decided to lay back a bit and take an office job. Like you, Kenneth, I was brought here mainly by the rumor that Bison had returned."
"Oh, Mason, you're so brave," Kikoken gushed.
Darrell and Kenneth glanced at each other before the former pointed out, "You know, he's married."
Kikoken sprang back from Mason as though his skin had burned her. "What?! You're married? Mason Storm, how could you betray me like that?! Why didn't you mention that you ... you were married? I ... I had feelings ..." She choked back her tears while Mason could only stare, too surprised to say anything, noting resentfully that Darrell and Kenneth had doubled over with silent laughter behind Kikoken's back. "I love you, Mason ... but you betrayed that love ... like a rose that blooms in the wintertime, so cruelly swept away by the elements ... et tú, Bruté?" she shouted. A moment later she fled from the table, tears streaming down her face.
"Talk about an overreaction ..." Darrell began.
He was abruptly cut off when Mason reached across the table, seized the front of his shirt, and pulled him to within an inch of an unsmiling face. "You bastard," Mason growled in a low voice, "what the heck did you think you were doing?"
"Hey, I just wanted to see how she'd react!" Darrell protested.
Mason shoved him backwards, hard, and Darrell nearly fell over his chair, caught by Blake and Kenneth at the last moment. "Hmph. Kids like you ... I'm going after her, to apologize on your behalf." Mason rose without another word, only pausing to throw away his empty ice cream cup and Kikoken's. Then he stormed out of the food court without so much as a backward glance. All three of the men left at the table watched him leave with mixed feelings.
Darrell scratched his head. "You think it was something I said?"
"No, I think it's the way you look," Blake threw in. When Darrell shot him a black glare, Blake continued, "To be serious, think about it, Darrell. You had to have realized that your offhand remark could ruin a promising romance, and unfortunately it did. Some things are safe to joke about, others aren't. For example, would you ever tease your wife about her weight?" The ensuing silence was all the answer that Blake needed. "I got to give you credit, though, for separating the Siamese twins. Ten dollars says that Kikoken will give Mason the tongue-lashing of his life before he can explain that he isn't married at all."
"C'mon, guys, let's break," Kenneth suggested after a moment's pause. They disposed of their items and together they ambled away leisurely. "See anything interesting?"
Blake consulted his chronometer. "Not to my eyes. Well, it's eleven o' clock right now, why don't we go to the rendezvous point? Nothing else here to do." Neither Darrell nor Kenneth had any better ideas, so they picked their way towards the entrance of the mall. "Huh, Regina, you here already?"
"Oh, good evening." Regina nodded a greeting towards the three men. She was sitting outside on one of the benches located just above ground, a bird perched on her hand. "I trust you all enjoyed yourselves?"
Blake cleared his throat. "Say, Regina, I've been thinking -"
"What a novelty," Darrell interjected.
Without a pause in his stride, Blake flung his right arm up and nearly broke Darrell's nose. "I've been thinking that we can't have you go around talking like that. You sound like a textbook on old-fashioned languages. I mean no offense when I say this, but you do stick out like a sore thumb. It'd be nicer if you'd talk more like us - it draws less attention." Behind Blake, Darrell swore in three different languages.
"Is that so?" Regina queried, eyes wide with interest. She looked away for a moment, said something to the bird, and then sent it flying away. "Please, tell me more."
By this time Kenneth had also picked up on Blake's train of thought. "Well, to begin with, you could try saying 'Hi' or 'Hello' instead of the more formal 'Good evening.' Blake's right, you'll probably want to fit in more with the group and you can start by adjusting the way you talk." He glanced around, just to make sure that Gill wasn't somehow eavesdropping and taking offense. "We think it'd suit you."
"Truly?" Regina smiled. "Then I shall try my best."
"No, no no!" Darrell cut in. "That's exactly what we're trying to avoid. Say something like ... 'Alrighty then!' Go on, try it."
"A - alrighty, then!" Regina acknowledged. She giggled a moment later as Blake flashed a thumbs up and Kenneth exchange a high-five with Darrell. "So, tell me, how is it that you talk?"
They spent the next half hour coaching Regina on speaking "like a citizen of the Earth," in Kenneth's words. "You're getting better and better," Darrell noted approvingly.
"Thanks for the compliment," Regina replied, flashing a brilliant smile.
"There's a difference between conversational language and low-level language, though I'm sure you know the difference," Blake added. "Me, for example, I only speak two languages, namely bad English and worse English. Darrell here speaks English and Ebonics and also has a working knowledge of Japanese. Kenneth I'm less clear about. Just two things: First, remember to obey all the rules of proper grammar. Us three, we're beyond hope when it comes to that. And second, don't cuss. A guy who swears is cool, but a girl who does it isn't. If there's -"
At that moment, Blake was distracted by the sound of a metallic object landing with a heavy clunk to his left. Probably someone dropped an unopened can of Coke, he thought to himself, but upon second glance - "Get down!" He suited his own words by tackling Regina and bringing her to the ground. A moment later, the canister exploded in a flash of light that blinded everyone for a moment, as well as numbing the ears of all present with a deafening peal of sound. Blake was shouting without really hearing what he was saying. Blasted flash-bang grenades. A moment later a bullet ricocheted from a tile just an inch from his face. Blake spun around, searching for the nearest cover. A quick glance confirmed that Darrell and Kenneth were also very much alive. He vaulted over a brick wall and pulled the other three after him, his hearing and vision both gradually returning. He fumbled for a moment, then swore lividly. The IDC communicator issued to him had apparently been crushed in his dive.
"Here!" Regina tossed her own communicator at him, Blake dimly aware that she was nearly shouting. Then, in a confused voice, "What do they want?"
"Darned if I know!" Blake shouted back, barely audible over the zing of bullets flying past. Now that he thought about it, he'd picked a terrible hiding spot where they were essentially trapped between a wall and a ledge with a semicircle of attackers in front of them. And to top it all off, he was totally unarmed. "BEAT leader, this is Apache! We're pinned down in front of the mall and taking heavy fire. Three friendlies along with me here. We need whatever you can throw together and we need it fast!"
"I'd love to help you, Apache, but I'm kinda busy myself," the BEAT replied in a terse tone. Blake frowned; he couldn't tell if the sound of flying bullets was coming from the communicator or from all around him. The BEAT confirmed his guess a moment later. "We're under fire, too, it'll take us at least twenty minutes to extricate ourselves and hightail to your position. Maybe Starcrash or Keychain will have some backup. BEAT leader, out."
Blake swore, glancing back where Kenneth and Darrell crouched. A number of bullets littered the ground around them and more dropped in as Blake frantically raised another channel. Calling McGrath was out of the question - he was near the suburbs last Blake heard, and it would take him half an hour to arrive - but maybe Samantha could be reached in time, if she hadn't left the jewelry store. "Keychain, this is Apache. Respond, blast it!"
"Keychain acknowledging," came Samantha's firm voice. "How many?"
Blake chanced a glance over the protective brick wall. "Five or six, armed with knives and automatic weapons. We're just outside the mall and BEAT leader says that he's pinned down, too." He swore as a bullet nearly clipped him.
"On my way. I should arrive with three full teams in five minutes. Keychain out." The communicator died away and Blake crouched low. Then he abruptly realized that Regina's eyes were focused on the situation and she had her hands held in some sort of gesture. "Regina, you ...?"
"This shield will deflect any bullets that come our way," Regina assured him.
The shooting abruptly ceased, leaving only a quiet broken by faint screaming in the distance. Probably some nearby civilians, Blake reasoned to himself. He peeked over the brick wall. "Blast it, they're coming in with knives. Four commandos in front, two about thirty meters behind them ready to offer support fire. Although, hmm ... Darrell, Kenneth, you guys thinking what I'm thinking?"
Darrell cracked his knuckles. "Haven't had a good brawl for a long time."
"Right." Blake winked.
"Um, what are you three planning to ...?" Regina began.
"Don't worry about us." Blake's eyes now held a dangerous glint. "Stay here, just make sure that your shield deflects anything that comes from the outside, okay?"
"Alrighty, then. Be careful."
The nameless commandos had nearly reached the scene when Blake, Darrell, and Kenneth simultaneously vaulted over the brick wall. Though caught by surprise, they reacted with admirable efficiency. Blake swung with a heavy kick, missing his target but landing softly in a crouch. "These two are mine! Pick your targets and sic 'em, boys!" So saying, he ducked a tightly-controlled slash and his leg shot out, clipping one of the commandos by the knees. A moment later, Kenneth launched a Whipcrack Kick through the window that Blake had just cleared. It landed solidly on the commando; unfortunately, someone slashed at him from behind and Kenneth's back instantly began to bleed. It wasn't a serious wound, but it did effectively stop the momentum of the attack. "Hey, find your own victims!" Blake shouted indignantly.
"Sheesh, see if I help you again!" Kenneth shot back, ducking a high swing. He tried to step back but bumped into Darrell and the commando went in for the kill, landing a heavy blow squarely on Kenneth's jaw. "Bastard."
Darrell, for his part, had a commando all to himself. They traded half a dozen blows, Darrell managing to hit his opponent with a solid uppercut at the cost of a pair of slashes on his arms. His position was bad and both he and his opponent realized it. The commando came in hard and fast, trying to get him to bump into Kenneth again. "Hadouken!" Darrell launched an energy wave from his hands; the commando rolled under it and Darrell tried for an ax kick, only to have his supporting leg swept from behind by another commando. He swore and rolled himself upright. Gotta stick to the basics, that's what Ryu and McGrath always say. Don't try anything fancy. When the commando attempted to rush him, however, Darrell succumbed to the urge. Heh heh heh, fool, I wonder how you'll like my Rekka Nakkura?
He slid forward a little to meet his opponent and succeeded in grabbing his foe at close range, intending to beat the daylights out of the commando with one of his super techniques. He began with a heavy punch right in the stomach; simultaneously, the commando's knife located his ribs and his enemy stabbed mercilessly. The shock of the attack nearly knocked Darrell out. His vision swam for a moment, but now that he'd started his attack he couldn't call it off. Darrell dropped and aimed a fast kick, his muscles screaming in protest, then turned around and impaled his enemy on his flaming sword. He'd have to cut the attack short - he was already beginning to move slowly - but it was enough. Darrell pressed his palms against his opponent's chest, at the same time fighting back the agonizing pain through sheer force of will. A moment later his palms exploded in fire, sending the commando tumbling backwards scorched beyond recognition. Darrell cursed and reached for the knife buried in his side, at the same time noting that the two commandos set to lay down cover fire had broken from their positions and were coming in to help. I won't be able to take both of them at once, not like this. Where the heck is our backup?! He wrenched the knife free, gasping as the blade came loose. Blood immediately began to pour down his expensive silk shirt.
Blake took in the situation with one glance. Kenneth Feng had also disposed of his opponent, though he looked badly beaten. Blake himself had already dispatched one of his foes. He was accustomed to close quarter, short-range combat and he focused on his one remaining assailant. He'd taken half a dozen slashes that had left him bloody; on the other hand, his opponent was suffering from a broken arm and several cracked ribs. When the commando tried to parry a close range punch with a slash from his knife, Blake zero cancelled the move into his Wolf Tackle, seizing his opponent by the waist and then going into an aerial back drop. He landed the commando on his neck; there was a most satisfying crunch as the spine gave way.
But there was barely any time to think, for the other two commandos were nearly upon them. Blake put his back to Kenneth and Darrell. Loss of blood was beginning to make him unsteady, but he was aware that both of his friends were worse off. The commandos split apart, one of them circling to his left and the other to his right. Blasted enemies; they were certainly well-trained. He didn't recognize any telltale insignias. He designated the man to the right as his target; if Darrell and Kenneth could hold out long enough, he could take both of the commandos separately.
Kenneth staggered to his feet as the commando came by, brandishing a wicked-looking knife. He blocked an initial strike and retaliated with a frontal kick. Apparently his opponent had anticipated the response, for the next moment Kenneth found himself caught by the shoulders. The commando tripped him and laid him on the ground, but Kenneth had a response ready. Heck, McGrath did it just a few hours ago in his own match, why shouldn't I? Even as Kenneth fell to the ground, he caught the commando's shoulders and pulled the man into a circle throw, levering his opponent over himself. The effort strained his muscles and he was acutely aware of the pain over his whole body. With a last, mighty effort, Kenneth threw all the force he could summon into the pull and sent the commando flying. His foe's arc was halted in midair when Darrell slashed at him with a flaming blade in mid-flight. The commando dropped to the ground, permanently.
Having dealt with his opponent, Darrell glanced to his right, but there was no need for concern. Even as he watched, Blake yelled "Game over!" and rushed the commando with a storm of close-range punches and kicks. The commando blocked; however, he guard-crushed after the sixth hit and a few seconds later it was all over. Blake shook his head clear and sank to his knees. He was covered in blood, most of it his own.
"Are you alright?!" Regina cried, emerging from behind the brick wall and running to the three fighters.
"No, wait -!" Blake called weakly. Regina had stopped just in front of Darrell and Kenneth, but Blake's eyes had caught more movement on the periphery. There, from the parking lot ... as he watched, twenty or more commandos emerged, each armed to the teeth with automatic weapons. Regina glanced up and froze like a deer caught in headlights. Blake swore at the change in fortune with all his heart. Samantha, you're too late, he thought to himself as the commandos opened fire. He closed his eyes.
The bullets ran into an invisible barrier and slid to the ground, harmless. Glancing up, Kenneth and Darrell both saw that Regina had placed herself in front of them, arms held out and palms open. They could both sense the power that she had woven around them; as each bullet hit her shield, it caused a small ripple of color and then dropped to the ground with an inaudible clink. The noise of the automatic weaponry was deafening. Kenneth and Darrell both winced as the commandos lobbed a few grenades their way, but apparently Regina's defense held up against that, too. Smoke from the explosives obscured the view for a few moments.
Suddenly, another explosion of smoke occurred, this one easily larger than all the rest. A hot wind swept across all four of them and blinded Darrell for a moment. The gunfire abruptly ceased, too. Must be the IDC reinforcements. They sure took long enough. But I don't hear any sound of combat at all. Then the smoke drifted away on a random wind gust and he realized that the explosion hadn't been caused by IDC forces at all. The commandos beyond Regina were also staring. That figure, in the clearing smoke ... Darrell willed himself to disbelieve what his eyes were telling him. As he recognized exactly who it was, the cold grip of fear seemed to constrict ever more tightly around his consciousness. The man's back was turned but his image was unmistakable from any angle. "D-Dadallent?!"
"The grim reaper has come for you," Dadallent stated coldly.