WOW, people actually reviewed before this one was posted! O.o
Thanks, guys. I'll try to make you all happy, just remember that nearly
half of this story is already finished... After that, I'm open to
suggestions ;;
As customary to mention: I don't own Tekken or the CIA. I own me. Cheryl owns Cheryl. James Hetfield owns you all. Fear the Spork!
(For you sheltered souls who don't know who he is, do a Lycos search on it!! HA!!!)
If you listen to Metallica and don't know who he is, hold still, I'm coming to your house to beat you over the head with a rubber chicken. I don't own Metallica. Metallica isn't mentioned in the story, just making a point that The Mighty Hetfield rocks. Okay, that's enough of that. O.o
Heihachi Mishima is portrayed as a respectable (albeit evil) man in this story. This is not my personal opinion of him, but for the sake of the story's sincerity, there can be no mass floggings and/or Chinese water torture, as much as I would like to see him die (AND TAKE HIS DAIPER WITH HIM!!!). Right.
VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV
Walking from the gate at Narita, they were greeted by a throng of Paul's adoring fans. He laughed nervously, waving, and pushed through. The others followed.
"I guess I should be grateful," he said aside to Kiley, "I don't have very many fans back home any more." Kiley looked up at him. Paul Phoenix, of all people, showed some humility. With an ego like his, he should have thought everyone loved him. She suddenly found herself respecting him. Just a little bit.
They walked to the baggage claim together, and Kiley and Cheryl found themselves piling their luggage into Paul's arms at his own behest. He easily handled each of their two suitcases along with his own duffel. Marshall grabbed his own suitcase before Paul could and grumbled about his showing off.
"I see your knees shaking already. I hope you'll be able to carry those all the way to the docks for the girls' sakes. Fool." He said.
Paul chuckled and replied "Easily." He didn't mention that there was probably already a limousine waiting for them outside the airport, and he was right. Marshall glared at him sourly. Paul laughed at him again and threw the bags into the car after the girls had been seated. He let Marshall go before him and then hauled himself in. He happily took the seat next to Kiley again, but was unsettled when he saw Heihachi Mishima facing them from a row of seats behind the driver. He immediately thought Heihachi must have suspected that the girls had been sent to conduct an investigation. He looked over at Kiley and saw that she was completely composed, so he forced himself to act naturally.
"Hello again, Heihachi," he said as if they were about to conduct business.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Phoenix. 'Very generous of you to return my company to me after the last tournament, by the way. Also very generous of you to decline the money I offered as payment." Heihachi spoke in a measured manner, and with surprisingly good English, with hardly any accent to account for. Paul shrugged.
"Business isn't my style, and neither is a lot of money. 'Very generous of yourself to offer it, though."
Heihachi imitated Paul's shrug. He turned to Marshall. "Good to see you again, Mr. Law. I was surprised to see your son at the last tournament in place of yourself."
Marshall grunted in acknowledgement and seemed not to pay much attention to anyone the rest of the way. Kiley and Cheryl thought that very odd, considering the way he spoke so freely back at the airport in San Francisco, but they continued to pay close attention to Heihachi, their charge.
"And I don't believe I've met you ladies before. Which of you is Ms. Kiley?"
"I am. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Mishima." Kiley reached across Paul to shake his hand.
"I wish you luck in the tournament, Ms. Kiley. You'll need it against the likes of Paul Phoenix." He nodded to Paul. Again, Paul shrugged.
Kiley began to study Heihachi while he turned to speak to the driver. Jack had been right; he was old, with white hair that had hints of a light, smokey gray streak here and there. Despite his age, probably around 70, it was obvious that he was a martial artist, even in his more recent years. Heihachi had a bushy mustache that bristled almost the whole way from the bottom of his nose right down to his lip. However, it was that grayish- white hair that interested her the most. It branched outward from the sides of his head like white flame as if it were a visible aura of power that he obviously still possessed.
Heihachi's brows were constantly furrowed, shrewd businessman that he was. He looked very stern, like an old shoalin priest. His suit clashed with his conservative outward appearance. It was white and business-like, true to his style, but over that he wore flashy brown leather over coat with white fur trimmings around the neck and the cuffs. He also wore brown gloves that seemed to match the jacket. Next to him was a black cane with a silver head leaning against the seat, but it was more likely kept as a matter of style rather than function. He seemed rather amicable, but Kiley had to remember the evil deeds for which he was suspected.
Kiley's scan of the older man ended when she realized Paul had been staring at her, probably for some time, and Heihachi turned back toward them. She looked at Paul who raised an eyebrow at her.
Heihachi then began to speak again. "We're on the way to the Mishima liner. I'll have to leave you there for an hour or so, but you can explore the ship we'll be sailing on overnight to my island for the tournament. We'll be leaving around 5:00, so you won't have to worry about dinner until after we leave port."
And they did just that. Paul grabbed all of their luggage before Marshall could protest. The girls carried their handbags and didn't mind one bit that Paul was being a gentleman.
As customary to mention: I don't own Tekken or the CIA. I own me. Cheryl owns Cheryl. James Hetfield owns you all. Fear the Spork!
(For you sheltered souls who don't know who he is, do a Lycos search on it!! HA!!!)
If you listen to Metallica and don't know who he is, hold still, I'm coming to your house to beat you over the head with a rubber chicken. I don't own Metallica. Metallica isn't mentioned in the story, just making a point that The Mighty Hetfield rocks. Okay, that's enough of that. O.o
Heihachi Mishima is portrayed as a respectable (albeit evil) man in this story. This is not my personal opinion of him, but for the sake of the story's sincerity, there can be no mass floggings and/or Chinese water torture, as much as I would like to see him die (AND TAKE HIS DAIPER WITH HIM!!!). Right.
VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV
Walking from the gate at Narita, they were greeted by a throng of Paul's adoring fans. He laughed nervously, waving, and pushed through. The others followed.
"I guess I should be grateful," he said aside to Kiley, "I don't have very many fans back home any more." Kiley looked up at him. Paul Phoenix, of all people, showed some humility. With an ego like his, he should have thought everyone loved him. She suddenly found herself respecting him. Just a little bit.
They walked to the baggage claim together, and Kiley and Cheryl found themselves piling their luggage into Paul's arms at his own behest. He easily handled each of their two suitcases along with his own duffel. Marshall grabbed his own suitcase before Paul could and grumbled about his showing off.
"I see your knees shaking already. I hope you'll be able to carry those all the way to the docks for the girls' sakes. Fool." He said.
Paul chuckled and replied "Easily." He didn't mention that there was probably already a limousine waiting for them outside the airport, and he was right. Marshall glared at him sourly. Paul laughed at him again and threw the bags into the car after the girls had been seated. He let Marshall go before him and then hauled himself in. He happily took the seat next to Kiley again, but was unsettled when he saw Heihachi Mishima facing them from a row of seats behind the driver. He immediately thought Heihachi must have suspected that the girls had been sent to conduct an investigation. He looked over at Kiley and saw that she was completely composed, so he forced himself to act naturally.
"Hello again, Heihachi," he said as if they were about to conduct business.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Phoenix. 'Very generous of you to return my company to me after the last tournament, by the way. Also very generous of you to decline the money I offered as payment." Heihachi spoke in a measured manner, and with surprisingly good English, with hardly any accent to account for. Paul shrugged.
"Business isn't my style, and neither is a lot of money. 'Very generous of yourself to offer it, though."
Heihachi imitated Paul's shrug. He turned to Marshall. "Good to see you again, Mr. Law. I was surprised to see your son at the last tournament in place of yourself."
Marshall grunted in acknowledgement and seemed not to pay much attention to anyone the rest of the way. Kiley and Cheryl thought that very odd, considering the way he spoke so freely back at the airport in San Francisco, but they continued to pay close attention to Heihachi, their charge.
"And I don't believe I've met you ladies before. Which of you is Ms. Kiley?"
"I am. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Mishima." Kiley reached across Paul to shake his hand.
"I wish you luck in the tournament, Ms. Kiley. You'll need it against the likes of Paul Phoenix." He nodded to Paul. Again, Paul shrugged.
Kiley began to study Heihachi while he turned to speak to the driver. Jack had been right; he was old, with white hair that had hints of a light, smokey gray streak here and there. Despite his age, probably around 70, it was obvious that he was a martial artist, even in his more recent years. Heihachi had a bushy mustache that bristled almost the whole way from the bottom of his nose right down to his lip. However, it was that grayish- white hair that interested her the most. It branched outward from the sides of his head like white flame as if it were a visible aura of power that he obviously still possessed.
Heihachi's brows were constantly furrowed, shrewd businessman that he was. He looked very stern, like an old shoalin priest. His suit clashed with his conservative outward appearance. It was white and business-like, true to his style, but over that he wore flashy brown leather over coat with white fur trimmings around the neck and the cuffs. He also wore brown gloves that seemed to match the jacket. Next to him was a black cane with a silver head leaning against the seat, but it was more likely kept as a matter of style rather than function. He seemed rather amicable, but Kiley had to remember the evil deeds for which he was suspected.
Kiley's scan of the older man ended when she realized Paul had been staring at her, probably for some time, and Heihachi turned back toward them. She looked at Paul who raised an eyebrow at her.
Heihachi then began to speak again. "We're on the way to the Mishima liner. I'll have to leave you there for an hour or so, but you can explore the ship we'll be sailing on overnight to my island for the tournament. We'll be leaving around 5:00, so you won't have to worry about dinner until after we leave port."
And they did just that. Paul grabbed all of their luggage before Marshall could protest. The girls carried their handbags and didn't mind one bit that Paul was being a gentleman.