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 ||About an hour after his snack and video session, Weezle is sitting in his sunroom. Surrounded by carefully manicured banzai trees, of several different varieties including white maple, redwood, and bougenvalias, and orchid garden, a rock garden, and those spiffy babbling-rock thingeys. Not exactly what one would expect from the man that goes by the name "Weezle". Normally seen swinging wooden objects at people's heads, hitting women, and insulting everyone that does not see things the same as he does (which is really everyone save for Keoki and Ravyn), Weezle is now seen tending to his floweing banzai bougenvalias as he listens to Beethoven's "Symphony No. 7". As Weezle clears away the debris from the pristine miniatures, he sits down on the padded floor that is surrounded by walls that are decorated in an Oriental style, with paper lanterns, and bamboo-paper sliding doors.|| ||Weezle just sits in the middle of the room, breathing in the rich, warm air. He closes his eyes, taking in the sounds of the music and just relaxing. For a few moments, Weezle is able to forget about the blind attack he received, and how he must now face a man he had joined in teh brotherhood of LAW just a few weeks ago.|| ||But alas, those moments end, as a cordless phone mounted to one of the walls start to ring incessantly. Weezle opens one eye, trying to stare the phone to death, but gives up after two more rings. Turning off the stereo as he gets up, Weezle walks over to the phone, his bare feet slapping against the soft floor.|| What? Hi, would you be inter-- F*** off. ||Weezle hangs up on the telemarketer and walks back to where he was sitting. Just as he gets comfortable and gets the music to the right spot, the doorbell rings.|| If this is a Jehovie, so help me God I'll... ||Weezle doesn't finish talking to himself, instead he rushes to put his slippers on and runs to the door. As he opens it, he sees Keoki Yamada standing there, duffel bag and suitcase in hand, looking like complete shit.|| Crickey, what's wrong with you? ||Coughing to clear out his throat, Keoki answers in his normal rough voice.|| Well, Weezle-san, while the Chevelle is a magnificent street rod, it is not exactly the best vehicle for long-distance highway driving. I hear ya buddy. So what have you been up to? The usual... Did some training, watched some tapes... I was just pruning some of my banzai trees before you came. AHHHhhhh!! You said you would show them to me, did you not? Yep, right this way. ||As Keoki takes his shoes off and sets down his bags, he is guided into Weezle's small sanctuary.|| Here it is. Very nice. So this is where you are always hiding? ||Weezle chuckles as he looks around the room, various flowers and mosses and potted plants growing on shelves.|| Yep... This is it. Weezle, have you ever entered a competition? Some of these miniatures and orchids are very... very... ||Keoki struggles to find the right word, and eventually a smiling Weezle cuts in.|| Beautiful? It's okay to say that word, Keoki. Just because you are a man and say 'beautiful' does not mean that you will be forced to drive a Rendevous and listen to Celine Dion. ||Keoki shoots an icy glare at Weezle, who can't help but laugh.|| You look like you need to relax, so why don't you just sit? ||Keoki takes up Weezle on his offer, and the two men sit down, legs crossed on the padded floor, in the middle of the room. As Weezle turns the music on, the two men close their eyes, point their heads straight, and let their tensions just flow out.|| ||Eyes still closed, Keoki and Weezle start to talk to each other over the ambient music. Feeling calmer from their surroundings, they talk in very calm, relaxed voices.|| So, you've got a big match on Tuesday. Canadian Title. Pretty prestigious. As always, I will do my best, and do whatever necessary to win. I never said you would not. And you too, Weezle-san, find yourself in an important match. Curtain-jerking? Think about it. Your match sets the tone for the whole evening. If you wrestle to your potential, then by the end of the night, all of the fans will be saying, 'It was good, but Weezle... His match was much better.' ...Even better than yours? ||Keoki pauses, almost opening his eyes long enough to slap Weezle in the back of the head, but the air and the music keep him calm. After a few deep breaths, he answers.|| Yes. Even better than my own match. What about that whole Biohazard thing? We canNOT let them get away with what they did to me. Ah yes. While I am sorry I was not able to help you, I can guarantee you that we will seek the proper vengeance. Remember that little plan we came up with? ||Weezle smirks a bit, but keeps his eyes closed and head pointed forward.|| Yes. Well then, you know that this coming Breakdown, the .:Summer of Destruction:. comes in with a bang. ||The two men laugh a little, but soon stop. And then, they say nothing. They just sit. They sit with their eyes still closed, heads still pointed forwards, legs still crossed, sitting in the middle of the room. They just sit. ||End|| |
