Scene #2301: The Overwhelming Psycho Power of Vega!

Owner	Pose
Vega	EARTH-1987 TOKYO, JAPAN PIER 3, WAREHOUSE 5 Tokyo never seems to change all that much. It's always big, sprawling, packed full of people, and filled to the brim with electric, neon, and steel. Buildings rise up, up, up, past imagination, grasping for the sky and the brighter tomorrow promised by technology, imagination, and innovation. Well, alright, one thing is different. As Allenby makes her way through the city, she might notice the posters, the advertisements, the TVs, all showing professional fighters. People like KEN MASTERS and DUDLEY and DAN HIBIKI (a lot of pictures of Dan Hibki...they seem to be plastered over a bunch of other peoples' posters, actually) show up pretty much everywhere, dressed in their martial arts gear, with interesting titles attached. There's even a couple amateur Street Fights in the streets, people just beating each other up (professionally) while crowds look on and cheer. There's a palpable power, an energy, an EXCITEMENT that swells and builds in the world. It's like a whole world of martial artists has been overlayed atop the regular world to the delight and entertainment of everybody. Vega's directions lead Allenby away from that part of town, and out into the docks. The docks of Tokyo are like a whole different world - dirty, run-down, dark, and lifeless. The only people around, as Allenby is led through rows of abandoned warehouses, are homeless men and women... ...though, if she looks closely, she might notice that a lot of those homeless people are pretty well-kept... Eventually, she's guided to a particular warehouse. Out front, a homeless man sleeps, a cup in his hand. Is this really the place?
Allenby Beardsley	From one Tokyo...to another. It really does look a lot like the same Tokyo that she recently met Kenji in. Mentally, she makes a note to check out the same area she'd met the bancho-like teenager on that other world. It probably has arcades. It doesn't take her long to notice the differences though: this place seemed like a Mecca to Martial Arts. For someone whose fighting spirit had more or less just truly awakened, this was pretty fascinating. As a result, she's actually a little late, stopping to watch the Street Fights as she encounters them, joining in the cheering. She's even tempted to join in, but she doesn't. When she finishes following the directions to this place, Allenby's a little...well, disappointed. Alright, so Vega was the leader of a huge underground criminal organization but she was expecting him to have something better than a dump in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. She doesn't look closely enough at the homeless people to notice anything really out of place with them. Nor does Allenby feel all that threatened. There weren't many things that could threaten her and with that in mind, Allenby just opts to let herself in to the warehouse.
Vega	The homeless man has apparently been given orders to let her in. So he does. He scoots out of the way as she moves to enter, flashing the bottom of his change mug at her. Inside is an emblem with a skull and wings. Shadowlaw. The inside of the warehouse is not like the outside. Instead of the smell of sea breeze, raw fish, and homeless people, the inside smells of soft oils and perfumes, of moderated air, of...wealth. Outside is the silence of the docks; inside is the roar of the crowds, the shout of gamblers, and the unmistakable pulse of battle. Fists fly in this place; she doesn't even need to see them to know. The dull 'thud, thud' of kicks and punches landing, the 'thump' of a man hitting the floor, the furious excitement of a crowd that's tasted blood...this is a place where people put their lives on the line for a taste of glory, and where wealthy men and women pay to watch them bleed. This is not the Gundamfight. This is something else, something more primal, something more brutal. If the friendly matches outside were a taste of the brilliance, this is a taste of the darkness. All around the arena, there are men in black-and-red suits with the same winged helmet symbol on their belts. Some have guns. Some do not. Some guns hum with energy, futuristic lasers, while others smell of gunpowder and old-fashioned killing implements. Whether they have lasers, slugthrowers, or nothing at all, the soldiers keep a careful watch, well-trained and well-organized. These are not stupid thugs. These are professionals. Down in the ring, a man shoves another man, his hands aflame with blue ki. But that isn't where Allenby is led. No, once someone notices Allenby - a one-eyed man in a suit with scars all over his face, who introduces himself as "Sage, the bookie" - he knows exactly where she's going. Sage leads her up the steps...to the box. Even before Sage opens the door, there's an overwhelming sense of...menace. Of menace, and power, and raw, untamed Evil. It pours around the cracks of the door as if it's simply too big for the room. Sage opens the door, and the Evil presence washes over her, inspecting, thoughtful. The inside of the box is exactly what one might expect, if slightly more upscale. It's mirrored glass, so the people outside can't see the person in. It's full of posh leather chairs, a well-stocked fridge...even a tuxedo-clad butler with drinks on a tray. A glass is offered to Allenby. In the center of the front row is the Man In Charge. As he stands, it becomes clear that he is the source of the Evil Presence - he seems to fill the room and become vaster than his physical size would allow, looming imposingly over everything and everyone. His cape rolls down broad shoulders as he turns to face Allenby, accenting muscles that can only belong to a martial artist. He turns his gaze upon the Neo-Sweden Gundamfighter. His eyes - the windows to the soul - are empty.
Allenby Beardsley	Now there is a symbol that Allenby recognizes. It had been attached to a number of the previous reports she was handed from the Confederacy-namely those that came from Vega or his Shadowlaw followers. It's some assurance that she DOES have the right place. Being inside backs this up, providing Allenby a view of what she had expected when she came looking for Vega: a cushy, expensive Shadowlaw facility funded by whatever gobs of money his organization is raking in. Immediately she's attracted to the sounds of fighting and tries to edge her way through the crowds to watch. It's definitely not Gundam Fighting. Gundam Fights have rules that are taken very seriously. Pilot deaths, while not unheard of, were something to be avoided. Why else would a headshot be an immediate disqualification than to draw fire away from the pilot's cockpit in the chest? Here that didn't apply-the stakes were higher and there was real danger-something that fighters seemed to crave based off of Allenby's conversations with a number of Confederate elites. So many of them did not feel as if a fight was real if the possibility of death was not an option. Sadly, she's eventually lead from the fight by the one-eyed man. Sad, but she did come here for business- The feeling of Vega is unlike anything Allenby's felt before. She balks at the doorframe and shudders as it leaks out of the private box, washing over her as she forces herself to step inside. Allenby takes up the glass as she composes herself, glad to ignore the fact that she's way too underaged to be drinking anything with alcohol. Vega doesn't even have to open his mouth or introduce himself-she knows it's him. She knows he's the creepy voice on the radio. "...you must be Vega." she states, the usual cheer she has while on the radio nowhere to be found. At the same time, she doesn't cower before him despite him being much larger, clearly built for fighting, and evil incarnate. "Hi. Might as well get straight to business. I'm interested in this Psycho Power thing."
Vega	Vega is, indeed, not the kind of man to need introductions. He just...is. He's a presence more than a person, larger-than-life in every way possible. It's like somebody took the concept of 'dictator' and stapled it to the villain from a martial arts movie, and Vega was the result. People don't ask him who he is if they've heard him speak. He doesn't incline his head to affirm her, either. He simply nods, as if he was expecting this, and gestures for her to sit. Vega then turns and sits back down in the comfortable leather chair, legs crossed, fingers steepled to watch the violence below. "Yes. As I suspected." Just like on the radio, Vega's voice is an uncomfortable and Evil thing, almost palpably /bad/. "Those who are bold and daring seek power regardless of the warnings of the cowardly. Those who desire strength hunt it, secure in their own ability." Down below, the losing fighter is being dragged out of the ring. He's not...dead...but he's pretty bloody, and his breathing is shallow. The man in the ring holds up his hands to what must be a roaring crowd, except no sound gets in through the box. It's like looking down on another world as gods. Aloof. Distant. Disconnected. "Tell me, then. You desire the power. But what is the ambition that drives you?"
Allenby Beardsley	His presence and his palpable evil was no doubt no small cause of discomfort. Though this soulless man no doubt was accustomed to doing so in those he meets. Allenby had to wonder if the overwhelming aura ever grew more tolerable with exposure. Allenby takes her seat, availing herself of the good view of the fighting below that the private box commands. She doesn't say anything as she watches the fight play out to its conclusion but her muscles do tense when he speaks. Hearing that voice was even worse in person, doubly so since the box appeared to be completely soundproof, shutting out the noise of the crowd below. She was trapped with that awful sound with no relief from ambient noise unless she started tapping her glass or wiggling a foot. "Fighting is what I do and it's what I am. Part of me hates it and part of me loves it. If that's the way it's going to be..." there's a hard look in her eyes as she stares out at the crowd below, "Then I might as well be the /best/ at it. I can't hurl around ki or fly or teleport but I'm looking to change that."
Vega	Judging by how quickly Sage and the butler left the room, no, Vega's presence does not get less tolerable for people who aren't psychopaths. Vega does not tap his foot. He does not twitch, or fidget. His breathing is tightly controlled. His blinking is regular. He gives the impression of either someone completely in control of himself, or... ...or a puppet being pulled about by a very skilled puppeteer. "You desire power for the sake of power. You want to prove your worth upon the stage of history and leave your mark as one of unsurpassable strength." Vega repeats her words, translating them into his own as if he's tasting a fine wine and considering it with the air of an expert sommelier. "You seek victory." He lapses into silence again as the next fight starts. It barely lasts any time at all; one of the men lets loose with some kind of crazy ki-fire combo and utterly flattens the other guy in no time. By the time it's done, Vega's right hand untangles itself from his left. He raises it into the air. "Very well." "No doubt you wish to know what I get out of this arrangement, as well," Vega observes, gesturing vaguely with his right hand at the air around him, as if referring to Psycho Power itself as 'the arrangement', "So I will be frank with you, that there are no.../misunderstandings/. The first step to wielding Psycho Power is the infusement process. I am currently prototyping a machine to do exactly that, and make into science what once was superstition. You will serve as one of the last test subjects of this machine." Vega's head tilts slightly towards her. "I have already tested it on several...others...before you. I am certain you will not die in the process. The final stages are mere calibration and testing. You will be infused with a certain amount of Psycho Power, which you will draw on until it runs out. We will measure the time and intensity of your use, and then, when your Psycho Power reserve runs dry, we will measure it and tune the machine further, with the eventual goal of making the infusion permanent." "The terms are now on the table. Is that...agreeable?"
Allenby Beardsley	Now the two are alone, Allenby is left wondering if the minions of Vega left the room so they could have a private conversation or because they didn't want to be at ground zero for the unpleasant outcome of anything to do with Vega talking. Then she waits in the uncomfortable silence as he no doubt judges her ambition (or mostly lack theirof) and analyzes her conviction. Allenby assumes that past performance is taken into consideration too, her reputation and reaction further analyzed. It would no doubt be carefully analyzed to prevent someone unworthy from receiving Vega's "gift." Fortunately, it seems she's met with approval. Perhaps a little too readily which is slightly suspect though his side of the deal seems to illustrate why. He needed test subjects. That very thought makes Allenby's stomach twist uncomfortably. "...I see." she says carefully. "That being the case, I'm going to have to dial in my team to this. They'll have to, uh, talk to you and coordinate the science involved so it doesn't interfere with other stuff." She holds up her phone with her team on speed dial. The names Dr. Beliman and Dr. S would be caught by Vega. "But I'm interested. And curious...who else's gone through this enhancement before?"
Vega	It is probably the second. Vega simply nods at her calling her team. It was better to make sure that every variable was accounted for. Even a single variable out of place could cause...problems. Besides, simple curiousity afflicted Vega as much as it did anyone else. It wasn't like he knew everything, or even most things. Curiousity often got the better of him. Vega waves his hand to the side. "No one of importance. Certainly no one willing." A grin spreads across his face at the word. It doesn't seem to be directed at Allenby. It's more just a general amusement, some terrible entertainment derived from the memories of others suffering. "But I have made certain that the machine is at the very least ready for allies. It would not do to damage my reputation within the Confederacy for something as paltry as this. And while unwilling test subjects are perfectly acceptable for initial safety experiments, this is something that requires the infusion to be...used. To be utilized. To be tested." "I would rather test it with a willing ally than an unwilling enemy. I am, after all, not a fool."
Allenby Beardsley	As suggested and intended by Allenby, she calls them on the spot. Vega will hear Allenby talking...in Swedish, which is unusual to the rest of the team but a signal as to how seriously she is considering this matter. After a few exchanges, she adds, "I am putting them on speaker phone so they can hear us." Calmly, Allenby sets her phone down on her right knee. "Hello Vega." A voice on the other end speaks. "I am Dr. S of the Neo Sweden gundam fight team. Part of our job is to ensure the health of the Gundam Fighter and therefore we would appreciate the opportunity to examine this machine beforehand. We would be amenable, however, to testing in the long run as well as joint projects." Allenby shifts uncomfortably, especially when Vega reveals the previous subjects as unwilling. She doesn't say much, though, Dr. S continuing: "You'll find that Ms. Beardsley doesn't have any small shortages of opportunities to /use/ such a power. We would be willing to make this examination as soon as possible." Well, at least to Allenby, her team doesn't seem like they're going to say no to this but that in of itself makes Allenby rather wary.
Vega	"Very good," Vega confirms for Dr. S. He pauses. "Ah...the Gundam Fight. Another Gundam Fighter came to this world, recently. Perhaps you and your team will be of even more assistance than I had previously guessed. Yes...indeed, I think that you very much will be." "Your willingness to assist me is most appreciated." Vega's slow grin spreads a bit further. It really shouldn't be that big, and his teeth really shouldn't be that white. It's almost wrong, how white and huge his grin is compared to how horrible his aura is. "I will have my technicians contact you when I am prepared."
Allenby Beardsley	As the doctor had been speaking, Allenby seemed to have grown a bit more withdrawn, perhaps focusing her attention on the fight below rather the conversation itself. Vega mentioning another Gundam Fighter, however, brings back that focus, "Oh? Really? Which Gundam Fighter?" Oh gosh, that smile. It's unfortunate that only she can see it but that seems to put the cherry on the sundae of 'I think this might be a bad idea'. And yet now it seemed too late to avoid devouring that bad idea sundae now that the Neo Sweden team is aware of this offer. "We can be available immediately." Dr. S speaks, sounding pleased himself. "Allow me to give you my direct number for coordination." Which he does. Allenby allows a look of impatience to settle over her as she repeats: "Which Gundam Fighter?"
Vega	Vega doesn't bother taking down the number. His mind is an iron trap. He turns his attention entirely to Allenby, which may or may not be better. "A black-haired man by the name of Domon Kasshu. He was very eager to find his brother. I helped him as best I could, but I have heard little from him since. I imagine he has not yet found him." "Do you know him?"
Allenby Beardsley	Better? No, not better. Not to Allenby. Every time Vega directed attention to her it felt, spiritually, she was fighting a battle against being drowned by the presence of the Shadowlaw leader. "Domon Kasshu? Huh, doesn't ring any bells to me. Hey Doc, what about you?" "No." he admits, also not recognizing the name of Neo-Japan's Gundam Fighter. "This must be his first Gundam Fight else he'd be getting some publicity somehow." Allenby shrugs. "I'll probably run into him eventually. Unless he gets taken out by someone else."