Tekken and CIA aren't mine...God, that's getting old... But the Sporks aren't.
Cheryl and Kiley belong to us. Fear the Spork!
Sorry the last chapter ended so abruptly, when I originally wrote this, it didn't have chapters. I'm trying my best to find opportune moments to stop for each installment, and these two parts weren't easy to split up.
Finally, Kazuya Mishima enters the formula...I had a lot of fun doing the illustrations for this part of the story. I'll have them on my new web site as soon as I get it online. Which probably won't be for a while. Oh well.
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The group followed Heihachi's suggestion and boarded the ship. The captain waited at the top of the ramp for them, shook hands with Paul and Marshall, and kissed the hands of the ladies. Cheryl blushed profusely and hid her face from the others until her cheeks stopped burning. They followed the captain to their rooms, where Paul dropped the girls' bags just outside their door and followed the captain to drop off Marshall's and his own. The girls looked at each other, watched Paul disappear around the corner, locked their door, and left. They walked around and discovered that they were not the first to arrive.
Upon walking out to the deck, they instantly heard a string of foul language coming from a redheaded man in a Korean military uniform. He was yelling at a blonde man who looked about the same age, around the girls' age as well.
They decided to go see what was going on. They walked a little bit closer and noticed a richly dressed man with sunglasses and a perfect tan, a bit older than the other two, sitting in a deck chair, listening intently.
"Hey, man, I didn't mean to drop it." The blonde said with a thick British accent.
"I don't give a damn, you're gonna replace it, hear?" was the response.
The dark haired man noticed the approaching women and rose. The redhead jumped, just then realizing he was even there.
"You'd best hold your tongue in the presence of ladies, Hwoarang, since it seems that all you know are oaths," he said. The redhead turned swiftly toward the girls and scratched the back of his head nervously looking at the floor, his face turning nearly as red as his hair. The blonde had the same reaction. The dark man smiled, patted them on the back, and looked at the girls.
"You must pardon my friends here, they're both rather stubborn and hot- blooded. They were having a minor dispute. My name is Violet." He stepped in front of the two younger men and continued, "I don't believe I've met either of you before. Are you new to the tournament like Steve here?" he gestured to the blonde Brit, who waved.
"We haven't even been out of the US in years, much less to any tournament in Japan. I'm Cheryl, and this is my friend Kiley. She'll be entering the tournament, I'm just tagging along." Cheryl shook hands with Violet, deciding that all three of the men standing in front of her were very attractive indeed. Kiley shook his hand as well, giving her friend a look that suggested she knew exactly what she was thinking. Violet led them further out on the deck to where more chairs had been placed. Hwoarang and Steve shrugged at each other and followed. After making sure both women were comfortably seated, Violet seated himself.
Even further down the deck, Kiley noticed a man in a jaguar mask, a blue shirt with fringes in a western US style and white pants. He was hunched over as if in contemplation. Violet followed her gaze.
"Oh, that's King, a wrestler from Mexico. He's entered all the tournaments so far, but most of us think that the man who showed up last time wearing that mask wasn't the real King. I guess that's him again. Anyway, he keeps to himself mostly. Great poker player though." He said smiling. Cheryl could just imagine deep, blue eyes twinkling handsomely to match his wide, friendly smile from behind those sunglasses, but she realized that she had no idea what color his eyes really were.
"They're all so quiet...well, except for the Korean..." Kiley muttered under her breath, looking at Hwoarang. Even Paul had practically been silenced when they met Heihachi in the limousine. She thought about how silent Marshall had been, and now looked toward the wrestler again. They must have reasons for fighting other than just to win, she thought. She could recognize a fighter's contemplation when she saw it. Being a martial artist herself, she had also experienced the same quiet inner conflict of weighing the stakes many times herself. She wondered what they could all be thinking when she realized that Violet had begun telling a little bit about himself. He was Chinese, but he was now living in the Bahamas because of family troubles.
The girls could already see that he was pretty well to do by the way he dressed. His shirt was made of purple silk. The color started out dark at his shoulders, nearly the color of his hair, but it faded to pale lavender gradually towards the bottom. It was open halfway at the front, revealing a well-shaped chest, one of the first things Cheryl noticed, and had frills around the collar and sleeve cuffs. His pants were tight, black leather, also well noted by Cheryl. Kiley saw her giving him a good looking over when he turned to drag Hwoarang and Steve into the conversation. When he turned back around, Cheryl forced herself to tear her gaze off him and looked out to the waters of Tokyo Bay.
"I'm sorry, Hwoarang." Steve said suddenly. Hwoarang paused, but nodded acknowledgement.
"Me too, dude." Still looking at the floor, the two moved closer to the table. Neither actually said anything, but they both listened attentively.
After a few minutes, Violet tensed up and lowered his sunglasses to peer over them at a man across the deck, behind Kiley and Cheryl. Kiley turned around to see who it was and found that the man was walking toward them. She froze.
He was a handsome man, although his face was scarred. He wore sunglasses, and over a purple suit, a trench coat of black leather. His hair was slicked back, and a bit of it formed a spike in the back of his head. It looked almost like a wing to Kiley. Time seemed to slow down along with the beating of her heart. She was afraid for some reason. She could feel that this man was powerful. He was terrifying. He was...
"Kazuya Mishima, I presume!" Violet stood, pretending to be friendly with him. He held out his hand to shake. Kazuya's frown deepened as he looked down distastefully at the hand offered to him. He looked back up at Violet, and then turned to the four sitting at the table. He nodded to Kiley.
"Good luck." He tipped his sunglasses to her and walked off. Kiley felt Cheryl touch her arm, and she jumped. She had almost been shivering the whole time he had his eyes on her. Something about Kazuya Mishima... Violet also looked very solemn when he sat back down.
"That was Kazuya. Heihachi Mishima's son. A truly evil man if one ever was." He sighed.
"Kazuya or Heihachi?" Cheryl asked, guessing that he could mean either one by her own initial impression of each.
"No, not Heihachi. He is sinister, diabolical even, and everyone here hates him, but he's just a typical business leader. Aren't they all like that? But Kazuya is in argument the devil himself. That's really the only explanation. It's said that he transformed into a demon in the first tournaments. But it gets worse-" he leaned forward.
"Isn't he Jin Kazama's father?" Hwoarang interrupted, watching Kazuya look out toward the sea from the deck across from them. His trench coat was flapping in the sea wind as he stood by the rail, and they watched as he removed his sunglasses and continued to watch the water underneath.
"Yes, he is, but as I was saying... I'm not quite sure how to say this, and less sure of how to explain it, but... twenty years ago..." Violet leaned a bit closer again, fearing Kazuya would hear them talking about him, "I know for a fact that he died. Heihachi threw him into the mouth of an erupting volcano."
Cheryl clasped her hand tight over her mouth to stifle a cry of exasperation.
"Why would Heihachi do that?"
"The entire family is in some kind of war, they've all got real problems with each other." Violet shrugged, relaxing a bit.
"He rose from the dead..." Kiley began to understand what she had felt from Kazuya. She shuddered quietly. She looked up to see Paul and Marshall casually making their way over. Paul waved, and then halted when he saw the mood of the five at the table. They hastened and stood behind Cheryl and Kiley.
"What's up?" Paul asked, watching Violet's stare, following it to Kazuya. He nearly fell over. "What is he doing here?!" he demanded to know. Kiley turned to face him, watching his expression.
"Kazuya is here for the same reason we're all here; to compete in the tournament." Violet said non-chalantly. Paul's expression changed several times while he watched Kazuya. One moment it was anger, then fear, then... excitement?
Paul saw much the same thing the others did. But Kazuya sensed that he was being watched. He turned, his sunglasses still off. Paul recoiled when he saw Kazuya's eyes. Kazuya turned to his right, which meant Paul saw his normal, brown eye first. But then he turned all the way around. Kazuya's left eye was bright red, and it seemed to glow with an inner fire. It even seemed to get brighter when he shot Paul a nasty glare. Paul also noted the scars etched into his face. Paul nearly choked at the sight.
"Kazuya Mishima..." he said quietly, "what happened to you?" Paul watched him walk below decks. Hwoarang followed him with his eye as well. He was rather curious about his archrival's father.
Kiley and Cheryl exchanged glances. Heihachi had murdered, or at least attempted to murder his son. That was enough to put him in jail, but they still had to prove the things for which he was suspected. It was their job. Marshall cleared his throat.
"So, we were wondering if you girls wanted to come explore the ship with us," he said cheerfully.
"Yeah, come on girls, come with us!" Paul smiled down at them, placing his frustration at seeing Kazuya alive aside for the moment, pulling his two friends out of their seats. They stood and began following him.
"Might I protest that you are stealing my company, boys?" Violet asked, annoyed.
"We saw 'em first, rich boy. Besides, you've got those two!" Paul called over his shoulder, leading the two laughing girls off with Marshall. Violet leaned backward and 'hmph'ed.
"Uh... What's goin' on?" Steve scratched the back of his neck. Violet reached back and smacked him.
Sorry the last chapter ended so abruptly, when I originally wrote this, it didn't have chapters. I'm trying my best to find opportune moments to stop for each installment, and these two parts weren't easy to split up.
Finally, Kazuya Mishima enters the formula...I had a lot of fun doing the illustrations for this part of the story. I'll have them on my new web site as soon as I get it online. Which probably won't be for a while. Oh well.
VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV
The group followed Heihachi's suggestion and boarded the ship. The captain waited at the top of the ramp for them, shook hands with Paul and Marshall, and kissed the hands of the ladies. Cheryl blushed profusely and hid her face from the others until her cheeks stopped burning. They followed the captain to their rooms, where Paul dropped the girls' bags just outside their door and followed the captain to drop off Marshall's and his own. The girls looked at each other, watched Paul disappear around the corner, locked their door, and left. They walked around and discovered that they were not the first to arrive.
Upon walking out to the deck, they instantly heard a string of foul language coming from a redheaded man in a Korean military uniform. He was yelling at a blonde man who looked about the same age, around the girls' age as well.
They decided to go see what was going on. They walked a little bit closer and noticed a richly dressed man with sunglasses and a perfect tan, a bit older than the other two, sitting in a deck chair, listening intently.
"Hey, man, I didn't mean to drop it." The blonde said with a thick British accent.
"I don't give a damn, you're gonna replace it, hear?" was the response.
The dark haired man noticed the approaching women and rose. The redhead jumped, just then realizing he was even there.
"You'd best hold your tongue in the presence of ladies, Hwoarang, since it seems that all you know are oaths," he said. The redhead turned swiftly toward the girls and scratched the back of his head nervously looking at the floor, his face turning nearly as red as his hair. The blonde had the same reaction. The dark man smiled, patted them on the back, and looked at the girls.
"You must pardon my friends here, they're both rather stubborn and hot- blooded. They were having a minor dispute. My name is Violet." He stepped in front of the two younger men and continued, "I don't believe I've met either of you before. Are you new to the tournament like Steve here?" he gestured to the blonde Brit, who waved.
"We haven't even been out of the US in years, much less to any tournament in Japan. I'm Cheryl, and this is my friend Kiley. She'll be entering the tournament, I'm just tagging along." Cheryl shook hands with Violet, deciding that all three of the men standing in front of her were very attractive indeed. Kiley shook his hand as well, giving her friend a look that suggested she knew exactly what she was thinking. Violet led them further out on the deck to where more chairs had been placed. Hwoarang and Steve shrugged at each other and followed. After making sure both women were comfortably seated, Violet seated himself.
Even further down the deck, Kiley noticed a man in a jaguar mask, a blue shirt with fringes in a western US style and white pants. He was hunched over as if in contemplation. Violet followed her gaze.
"Oh, that's King, a wrestler from Mexico. He's entered all the tournaments so far, but most of us think that the man who showed up last time wearing that mask wasn't the real King. I guess that's him again. Anyway, he keeps to himself mostly. Great poker player though." He said smiling. Cheryl could just imagine deep, blue eyes twinkling handsomely to match his wide, friendly smile from behind those sunglasses, but she realized that she had no idea what color his eyes really were.
"They're all so quiet...well, except for the Korean..." Kiley muttered under her breath, looking at Hwoarang. Even Paul had practically been silenced when they met Heihachi in the limousine. She thought about how silent Marshall had been, and now looked toward the wrestler again. They must have reasons for fighting other than just to win, she thought. She could recognize a fighter's contemplation when she saw it. Being a martial artist herself, she had also experienced the same quiet inner conflict of weighing the stakes many times herself. She wondered what they could all be thinking when she realized that Violet had begun telling a little bit about himself. He was Chinese, but he was now living in the Bahamas because of family troubles.
The girls could already see that he was pretty well to do by the way he dressed. His shirt was made of purple silk. The color started out dark at his shoulders, nearly the color of his hair, but it faded to pale lavender gradually towards the bottom. It was open halfway at the front, revealing a well-shaped chest, one of the first things Cheryl noticed, and had frills around the collar and sleeve cuffs. His pants were tight, black leather, also well noted by Cheryl. Kiley saw her giving him a good looking over when he turned to drag Hwoarang and Steve into the conversation. When he turned back around, Cheryl forced herself to tear her gaze off him and looked out to the waters of Tokyo Bay.
"I'm sorry, Hwoarang." Steve said suddenly. Hwoarang paused, but nodded acknowledgement.
"Me too, dude." Still looking at the floor, the two moved closer to the table. Neither actually said anything, but they both listened attentively.
After a few minutes, Violet tensed up and lowered his sunglasses to peer over them at a man across the deck, behind Kiley and Cheryl. Kiley turned around to see who it was and found that the man was walking toward them. She froze.
He was a handsome man, although his face was scarred. He wore sunglasses, and over a purple suit, a trench coat of black leather. His hair was slicked back, and a bit of it formed a spike in the back of his head. It looked almost like a wing to Kiley. Time seemed to slow down along with the beating of her heart. She was afraid for some reason. She could feel that this man was powerful. He was terrifying. He was...
"Kazuya Mishima, I presume!" Violet stood, pretending to be friendly with him. He held out his hand to shake. Kazuya's frown deepened as he looked down distastefully at the hand offered to him. He looked back up at Violet, and then turned to the four sitting at the table. He nodded to Kiley.
"Good luck." He tipped his sunglasses to her and walked off. Kiley felt Cheryl touch her arm, and she jumped. She had almost been shivering the whole time he had his eyes on her. Something about Kazuya Mishima... Violet also looked very solemn when he sat back down.
"That was Kazuya. Heihachi Mishima's son. A truly evil man if one ever was." He sighed.
"Kazuya or Heihachi?" Cheryl asked, guessing that he could mean either one by her own initial impression of each.
"No, not Heihachi. He is sinister, diabolical even, and everyone here hates him, but he's just a typical business leader. Aren't they all like that? But Kazuya is in argument the devil himself. That's really the only explanation. It's said that he transformed into a demon in the first tournaments. But it gets worse-" he leaned forward.
"Isn't he Jin Kazama's father?" Hwoarang interrupted, watching Kazuya look out toward the sea from the deck across from them. His trench coat was flapping in the sea wind as he stood by the rail, and they watched as he removed his sunglasses and continued to watch the water underneath.
"Yes, he is, but as I was saying... I'm not quite sure how to say this, and less sure of how to explain it, but... twenty years ago..." Violet leaned a bit closer again, fearing Kazuya would hear them talking about him, "I know for a fact that he died. Heihachi threw him into the mouth of an erupting volcano."
Cheryl clasped her hand tight over her mouth to stifle a cry of exasperation.
"Why would Heihachi do that?"
"The entire family is in some kind of war, they've all got real problems with each other." Violet shrugged, relaxing a bit.
"He rose from the dead..." Kiley began to understand what she had felt from Kazuya. She shuddered quietly. She looked up to see Paul and Marshall casually making their way over. Paul waved, and then halted when he saw the mood of the five at the table. They hastened and stood behind Cheryl and Kiley.
"What's up?" Paul asked, watching Violet's stare, following it to Kazuya. He nearly fell over. "What is he doing here?!" he demanded to know. Kiley turned to face him, watching his expression.
"Kazuya is here for the same reason we're all here; to compete in the tournament." Violet said non-chalantly. Paul's expression changed several times while he watched Kazuya. One moment it was anger, then fear, then... excitement?
Paul saw much the same thing the others did. But Kazuya sensed that he was being watched. He turned, his sunglasses still off. Paul recoiled when he saw Kazuya's eyes. Kazuya turned to his right, which meant Paul saw his normal, brown eye first. But then he turned all the way around. Kazuya's left eye was bright red, and it seemed to glow with an inner fire. It even seemed to get brighter when he shot Paul a nasty glare. Paul also noted the scars etched into his face. Paul nearly choked at the sight.
"Kazuya Mishima..." he said quietly, "what happened to you?" Paul watched him walk below decks. Hwoarang followed him with his eye as well. He was rather curious about his archrival's father.
Kiley and Cheryl exchanged glances. Heihachi had murdered, or at least attempted to murder his son. That was enough to put him in jail, but they still had to prove the things for which he was suspected. It was their job. Marshall cleared his throat.
"So, we were wondering if you girls wanted to come explore the ship with us," he said cheerfully.
"Yeah, come on girls, come with us!" Paul smiled down at them, placing his frustration at seeing Kazuya alive aside for the moment, pulling his two friends out of their seats. They stood and began following him.
"Might I protest that you are stealing my company, boys?" Violet asked, annoyed.
"We saw 'em first, rich boy. Besides, you've got those two!" Paul called over his shoulder, leading the two laughing girls off with Marshall. Violet leaned backward and 'hmph'ed.
"Uh... What's goin' on?" Steve scratched the back of his neck. Violet reached back and smacked him.