Post by wblstudios on Apr 25, 2006 15:25:06 GMT -5
Coming close on Midnight, the witching hour, in Philadelphia. Time when all good little girls and boys should be in bed. The old man working the register at the gas station half of the roadside Subway knew this, and asked the store’s only current patron if maybe they should be getting home. And again, all he got was a polite “Not yet” and the offer to purchase something else if it meant being allowed to stay there. The all-vegetable 6-inch sub, cheapest on the menu, had already began to wilt in front of her, the ice in the soda all but melted now, serving only to water down the fountain drink even further. The old man declined, not wanting to have to call the police. But technically, the patron was loitering. The laptop computer dominating most of the booth, however, showed that this time was going to be loitering well spent.
It had been almost two hours since the appointed meeting time, and the feeling that Ellis wasn’t going to show was beginning to sink in. However, before the laptop could be shut down and the feeling totally sunken in, the car pulled up into the parking lot. The patron watched, then winced upon seeing Ellis cut herself again. No matter how many times it happened, it was hard to get used to.
For Ellis, who made her way into the station, the cutting had become all too routine. Even the small bit that had gone into her eye and subsequently been flushed out by undeserved tears gave her a little solace. She had everything on her mind that night. The events of Slam, where regardless of her technically getting a victory thanks to Josephine, she was humiliated by the man she was trying to force out of her head. The boxcutter found it’s home back in the pocket of her Hitman jacket as Ellis took one slow scan of the area. She was incredibly late, the note asked to meet this contact at 10 PM, and it was a hair to midnight. Ellis couldn’t have cared less. She wanted to trip whatever trap was being set up, draw someone else’s blood for a change, and get the hell home so she could get back to her guitar playing. The frustration at being unable to speak with the spirits of the dead still impounded on her... but was alleviated slightly... just slightly... by the sight of the person who turned out to be her contact.
It was odd to see this little girl in this apparel... bell bottom jeans and a black and white “Chain Gang” jersey. She was more apt to seeing her in a pastel pink schoolgirl’s uniform. Kikyo’s head perked up upon seeing Ellis enter, and her gaze never left as Ellis made her own way to the booth, taking a seat and staring down the Japanese child prodigy. Her comment was a deep rasp, in contrast to it’s cheerful reply.
“Where’s your outfit?”
“Oh? Well, I kinda didn’t want anyone to know why I was here. So I picked up something on the way here. Apparently, the warehouse is having a really hard time selling these things, so I picked it up pretty cheap. Got a couple Edge-Head shirts as well.”
“What do you want?”
“Um... first and foremost, I wanted to thank you for saving me again, back in the ring with Jack.”
Leaving her seat, Kikyo stood up and bowed as deeply as possible in a show of utmost respect before sliding back into her place.
“I didn’t do it because of you. Jack was coming towards you. I wanted a piece of him. But he...”
“I tried to ask Jojo-chan to help you out, I really did, but she wasn’t interested. I think it was horrible. That’s why, in order to show my respect, I’m willing to manage you this week. I thought you might want someone to watch your back, cons...”
“No”, was the curt, raspy reply. A simple word that left no room for interpretation or rebuttal. Kikyo took it for what it was, but tried to offer an addendum.
“Well, I don’t know how else I can repay your kindness. Maybe... how about I buy you something to eat? Are you hungry?”
That cold, gray gaze intensified just a hair, but more than necessary to make the temperature drop. “Am I hungry? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Kikyo realized that she’d stepped on a land mine. All these jokes Jack had made about her thin appearance, her malnutrition at the hands of the cold New York City streets, there was bound to be a lot of those land mines scattered around. But Kikyo, with practiced style and grace, tried to go around that land mine.
“I meant, Ellis-sama, that I don’t know how else I could thank you for saving my life twice in the same week. I figured, we’re at a Subway, and they have this promotional deal where you buy a 6-inch and show a WCF ticket stub, you get a free drink, so...”
Ellis knew she was being patronized. But in order to get to the root of the matter, she diffused the land mine and looked out the picture window into the harsh Philly streets. “Sure. Whatever. Just order me... whatever.”
One tuna on whole wheat and large Coke later, the laptop was replaced into it’s case and the sporadic conversation continued as best as it was going to.
“What does Josephine think of all this?”
“To be honest, Jojo-chan has a lot of respect for you after last week. Of course, she’s not gonna say so. So she’ll let me help you out as long it doesn’t interfere with her match with Genocide. I was hoping, if nothing else, we could talk about strategy. I know you want to get your hands around Jack-sama, but remember, Tommy-sama is going to be there too. The biggest thing you’ve got to watch out, and I think he realizes it, is that you and Jack are going to kill each other out there, and Tommy is gonna just get three-count on what’s left.”
“I don’t give a shit about that title, Kikyo. The only reason Havock is even in this match is because the company wants to get one of their own into the spotlight.”
“I don’t see it that way at all, Ellis-sama. I see that maybe the company realizes this thing between you and Jack-sama is just what might help get the WCF worldwide notoriety. And look at all these guys who are kinda like the two of you. The WCF is taking a darker path, and to kinda show appreciation, that’s why the TV title is in play. To give something to the better in this whole fight, be it you or Jack-sama.”
“And if Tommy ends up stealing it?”
“I dunno... then I guess it means the Team of Treachery’s got a stronger hold than we thought. I know you don‘t care about him, Ellis-sama, but think about it. The ball’s in his court. He’s the champion, his two opponents care more about each other than his title... he’s got the owner on his side... and since the ‘house’ always has an advantage, Tommy could easily keep his belt by disqualification or count-out.”
“I told you before. I don’t give a damn about that title. I don’t care about how this company wants to punish me, or reward me. I don’t even care about the WCF. I came here to find work in a field where I could let out my aggressions without going to jail. Instead, I find my own death.”
Kikyo’s gaze turned nervously downward, her feet fidgeting with each other underneath the table as the subject of what Ellis had become introduced itself. That was just the signal Ellis was looking for.
“Kikyo... what do you really want with me?”
Another subject the Japanese prodigy didn’t want to bring up. But if she wanted Ellis to trust her, or anybody else in her un-life for that matter, she’d have to lay all her cards on the table.
“Are you familiar with the Japanese concept of Ichi-Go, Ichi-E? It’s a belief that every meeting should be cherished, because it can never be duplicated or taken back. That night we met... it still rings in my head, Ellis-sama. And when I first read about you back when I was in college, and then finally meeting you... I knew that this meeting was going to affect me. I just hope that it can have some effect on you as well, Ellis-sama.”
So this wasn’t just a one-week fancy, Ellis realized. This girl knew more about her than she was letting on. Again, her hand slid to her jacket, to that boxcutter she thought she might have to use on that innocent face, and the blood she might need to use to color that monochrome jersey.
“Start... at the beginning.”
End Part Two
---
~Ellis
It had been almost two hours since the appointed meeting time, and the feeling that Ellis wasn’t going to show was beginning to sink in. However, before the laptop could be shut down and the feeling totally sunken in, the car pulled up into the parking lot. The patron watched, then winced upon seeing Ellis cut herself again. No matter how many times it happened, it was hard to get used to.
For Ellis, who made her way into the station, the cutting had become all too routine. Even the small bit that had gone into her eye and subsequently been flushed out by undeserved tears gave her a little solace. She had everything on her mind that night. The events of Slam, where regardless of her technically getting a victory thanks to Josephine, she was humiliated by the man she was trying to force out of her head. The boxcutter found it’s home back in the pocket of her Hitman jacket as Ellis took one slow scan of the area. She was incredibly late, the note asked to meet this contact at 10 PM, and it was a hair to midnight. Ellis couldn’t have cared less. She wanted to trip whatever trap was being set up, draw someone else’s blood for a change, and get the hell home so she could get back to her guitar playing. The frustration at being unable to speak with the spirits of the dead still impounded on her... but was alleviated slightly... just slightly... by the sight of the person who turned out to be her contact.
It was odd to see this little girl in this apparel... bell bottom jeans and a black and white “Chain Gang” jersey. She was more apt to seeing her in a pastel pink schoolgirl’s uniform. Kikyo’s head perked up upon seeing Ellis enter, and her gaze never left as Ellis made her own way to the booth, taking a seat and staring down the Japanese child prodigy. Her comment was a deep rasp, in contrast to it’s cheerful reply.
“Where’s your outfit?”
“Oh? Well, I kinda didn’t want anyone to know why I was here. So I picked up something on the way here. Apparently, the warehouse is having a really hard time selling these things, so I picked it up pretty cheap. Got a couple Edge-Head shirts as well.”
“What do you want?”
“Um... first and foremost, I wanted to thank you for saving me again, back in the ring with Jack.”
Leaving her seat, Kikyo stood up and bowed as deeply as possible in a show of utmost respect before sliding back into her place.
“I didn’t do it because of you. Jack was coming towards you. I wanted a piece of him. But he...”
“I tried to ask Jojo-chan to help you out, I really did, but she wasn’t interested. I think it was horrible. That’s why, in order to show my respect, I’m willing to manage you this week. I thought you might want someone to watch your back, cons...”
“No”, was the curt, raspy reply. A simple word that left no room for interpretation or rebuttal. Kikyo took it for what it was, but tried to offer an addendum.
“Well, I don’t know how else I can repay your kindness. Maybe... how about I buy you something to eat? Are you hungry?”
That cold, gray gaze intensified just a hair, but more than necessary to make the temperature drop. “Am I hungry? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Kikyo realized that she’d stepped on a land mine. All these jokes Jack had made about her thin appearance, her malnutrition at the hands of the cold New York City streets, there was bound to be a lot of those land mines scattered around. But Kikyo, with practiced style and grace, tried to go around that land mine.
“I meant, Ellis-sama, that I don’t know how else I could thank you for saving my life twice in the same week. I figured, we’re at a Subway, and they have this promotional deal where you buy a 6-inch and show a WCF ticket stub, you get a free drink, so...”
Ellis knew she was being patronized. But in order to get to the root of the matter, she diffused the land mine and looked out the picture window into the harsh Philly streets. “Sure. Whatever. Just order me... whatever.”
One tuna on whole wheat and large Coke later, the laptop was replaced into it’s case and the sporadic conversation continued as best as it was going to.
“What does Josephine think of all this?”
“To be honest, Jojo-chan has a lot of respect for you after last week. Of course, she’s not gonna say so. So she’ll let me help you out as long it doesn’t interfere with her match with Genocide. I was hoping, if nothing else, we could talk about strategy. I know you want to get your hands around Jack-sama, but remember, Tommy-sama is going to be there too. The biggest thing you’ve got to watch out, and I think he realizes it, is that you and Jack are going to kill each other out there, and Tommy is gonna just get three-count on what’s left.”
“I don’t give a shit about that title, Kikyo. The only reason Havock is even in this match is because the company wants to get one of their own into the spotlight.”
“I don’t see it that way at all, Ellis-sama. I see that maybe the company realizes this thing between you and Jack-sama is just what might help get the WCF worldwide notoriety. And look at all these guys who are kinda like the two of you. The WCF is taking a darker path, and to kinda show appreciation, that’s why the TV title is in play. To give something to the better in this whole fight, be it you or Jack-sama.”
“And if Tommy ends up stealing it?”
“I dunno... then I guess it means the Team of Treachery’s got a stronger hold than we thought. I know you don‘t care about him, Ellis-sama, but think about it. The ball’s in his court. He’s the champion, his two opponents care more about each other than his title... he’s got the owner on his side... and since the ‘house’ always has an advantage, Tommy could easily keep his belt by disqualification or count-out.”
“I told you before. I don’t give a damn about that title. I don’t care about how this company wants to punish me, or reward me. I don’t even care about the WCF. I came here to find work in a field where I could let out my aggressions without going to jail. Instead, I find my own death.”
Kikyo’s gaze turned nervously downward, her feet fidgeting with each other underneath the table as the subject of what Ellis had become introduced itself. That was just the signal Ellis was looking for.
“Kikyo... what do you really want with me?”
Another subject the Japanese prodigy didn’t want to bring up. But if she wanted Ellis to trust her, or anybody else in her un-life for that matter, she’d have to lay all her cards on the table.
“Are you familiar with the Japanese concept of Ichi-Go, Ichi-E? It’s a belief that every meeting should be cherished, because it can never be duplicated or taken back. That night we met... it still rings in my head, Ellis-sama. And when I first read about you back when I was in college, and then finally meeting you... I knew that this meeting was going to affect me. I just hope that it can have some effect on you as well, Ellis-sama.”
So this wasn’t just a one-week fancy, Ellis realized. This girl knew more about her than she was letting on. Again, her hand slid to her jacket, to that boxcutter she thought she might have to use on that innocent face, and the blood she might need to use to color that monochrome jersey.
“Start... at the beginning.”
End Part Two
---
~Ellis
