Tumgik
#Sonya Blade/Johnny Cage
thenotebookwizard · 9 months
Text
Southern Belle (CageBlade Week | Day 4: Surprise)
TITLE: Southern Belle (CageBlade Week 2023 Day Four: Surprise)
FANDOM: Mortal Kombat - All Media Types; Mortal Kombat (Video Games)
RATING: T
SUMMARY:
Everything was bright green and white, broken up with splashes of color from flowers and decorations. Windchimes competed with the soft country being bleated out by the live band tucked away in the absurdly large and overly ornate gazebo, and there were antique tables laid out with more food than even the dozens of people milling about could put away on a Sunday afternoon. Sonya Blade has gone back to Texas - small town Texas - for her great uncle's birthday. No, no one asked her if she wanted to, but she was there anyway. After a fight with Johnny and a long flight, the last thing she wants to do is argue with her grandmother and try to fit into most uncomfortable parts of her childhood all over again. Only, Grandma's not having it and her argument with her not-boyfriend might follow her home. CageBlade Week 2023 | Day 4: Surprise
A/N: Yes. I am from Texas. Yes. These events are real. No. If anything, I downplayed what they look and feel like.
Note: never try to hide anything from a Southern grandma. They know all, have been there, done that before you were born, and will tell you like it is.
Organizations frame the world; governments. Secret societies. Fraternal orders. Organized crime syndicates. After school clubs. Name it, and there is an organization for it. Many organizations inspired fear or loathing or commentary; some were only whispered about and others were shouted down.
And others, everyone knew not to mess with. In the southern united states, there were organizations with such influence and money and power that most people had forgotten they often quietly ruled entire small towns with lace-gloved hands from garden parties, where policy and civic matters were decided over tea and canapes.
Sonya Blade had grown up a scion of those venerable southern societies; not that she paid them much mind or cared to be involved with them. Her grandmother had despaired of ever getting her into a frilly dress to mingle with the appropriate sort of people in small town, Texas. Rare family visits from Austin were fraught with intrigue as Sonya and her grandmother maneuvered and sparred, each working to get the other to give in. Neither would.
Sonya Blade and Sonia Morgan were both indomitable forces of will and neither had ever learned the meaning of 'surrender' (except that it was something other people did.)
Sonya hadn't always won and had found herself frocked in lace and layers standing in a garden, protected from the unforgiving Texas sun only by a flimsy parasol. Sonia hadn't always managed, and heard tales of her rakehell granddaughter racing dirt bikes, mudding in fields, and fighting the local ruffians.
Today, both Sonya and Sonia were a united front. Grandmother and granddaughter both wanted to be somewhere else. Anywhere else.
Sony's great uncle was turning 95. Her grandmother's brother-in-law was hardly her favorite person, and her grandmother couldn't stand him. He was technically a war hero, and Sonya grudgingly respected that about him, if nothing else. His status as a war hero had earned him the right to call up the US Army and 'request' his combat-decorated great niece attend his birthday party, thrown by one of the less savory fraternal organizations of the south.
Sonya hadn't paid attention to which one. There were at least a dozen alone in Exeter, Texas, and they were an overlapping Venn diagram of who was allowed to belong to which - and the more you were in, the more clout you had.
In a town of less than ten thousand people, they had a lot of clout.
Sonya tried not to, but she hated the old man. He was a lecherous, racist, nationalistic old goat with opinions about everything - especially her. While she and her grandmother had battled, Sonia Morgan loved her grandchildren and respected them, even when she disagreed with what they made of their lives.
(Though, she always expected excellence from them in everything they did. Sonya had only gotten in trouble for her local fights if she'd lost. If she'd won, her grandmother never spoke of them.)
Requested my ass.
The Korean War veteran had 'requested' her, and people much higher in the chain of command had cut her orders for 'special leave' to attend. It was tantamount to an order, which is how Sonya found herself back in Exeter for the first time in more than ten years. And why she was wearing her mess dress in the Texas summer, sweltering in the heavy fabric.
Her grandmother stood next to, taking her arm the way she would any of her grandsons, sending the blatant social cue her granddaughter was to be afforded the same respect any soldier was given.
She was grateful, even if her grandmother's perfume was still cloying and overly floral.
Not that her grandmother needed an arm to lean on. Sonia Morgan stood tall and unbowed after almost eight decades on Earth. She had slowed down, but still woke early in the morning and went about her business with vigor and charm. She still spoke her mind, and people still listened when she spoke. Unlike many, she had grown with the times, and got her news from her tablet as often as she did lunch with her friends, and her smartphone was tucked into her purse right next to her make up, ossified peppermints, and a snub-nosed revolver.
"You give him too much respect, dear. Wearing that." She patted Sonya's arm. "The peacock won't give you the respect you're due, so I don't see why you're suffering for him."
Sonya held her tiny crystal flute of chilled champagne with her first two fingers and resisted the urge to toss it back like it was a shot. They'd had this discussion four timessince her arrival last night.
"Because, grandma, I am a soldier in the United States Army and I was granted special leave to attend this event, at the request of retired Army Colonel Pierce Morgan. As such, I..."
Her grandmother hushed her. "I know, dear. I know. Representing the service, etc, etc. He doesn't deserve it. Never has. He came back a hero with a cane and medals on his chest and he's never let any of us forget it. He's done nothing for the community but leech off it, and I swear before sweet Jesus himself, the man thinks he..."
Her grandmother closed her mouth and let out a sigh as another elderly woman in a pink dress wafted past, her own heady perfume stinging Sonya's nose.
"Mathilda. Her grandson is single, you know. She's hardly a pleasant woman, but Eric is a good boy and has a very good job as a welder."
Sonya drained her champagne. She wasn't having that conversation. Was not going to happen.
She immediately regretted the champagne. As fancy as everything looked, they had cut corners. The champagne was definitely the cheap stuff. She'd had enough of the good stuff with -
She'd had the good stuff now. She knew what the difference tasted like. She almost wished she didn't.
She knew her grandmother had stopped her diatribe because it wouldn't be proper to be heard complaining about the guest of honor, even though everyone there likely knew how she felt about her brother-in-law.
And because Mathilda had designs on being the third Mrs. Pierce Morgan and was almost as influential as her grandmother.
It also gave her grandmother a chance to change subjects to her recent favorite: Sonya's impending spinsterhood. She was, apparently, far too old not to be married and adding to the already vast number of people in their extended family.
Sonya did what she was best at when it came to conversations about her personal life: she evaded.
Not just because she had no desire to meet Mathilda's grandson Eric, but because she hated discussing her personal life even more than she hated thinking about her personal life - putting it third place to feeling things about her personal life. Which was far too complicated right then to even consider discussing with her grandmother.
Who just might recognize the name her current personal life was consumed by.
(And just how the hell would she ever explain how she met the infuriating man? Even if they currently weren't speaking, that didn't mean she wouldn't have to explain knowing him. She had enough stupid sappy photos on her phone she kept forgetting to delete to prove she knew him, but 'saved the world in an interdimensional tournament against demons and monsters' was hardly the kind of meet-cute her grandmother wanted to hear about. To say nothing of proving that story.)
"Uncle Pierce is hardly a peacock, grandma. He's more like a rooster. He thinks he's prettier than he is, makes a lot of noise, but doesn't do a lot but strut."
Sonia Morgan huffed. "Until he's in a box, you mean."
Sonya had no idea how to respond to that, so she just kept her mouth shut and grabbed another flute of champagne from one of the waiters rotating around the garden.
(Why Exeter had what felt like a hundred different historic houses with giant gardens she'd never understand.)
The party was picture perfect. Southern belles and gentlemen all standing idly about in clusters, talking and gossiping under the summer afternoon sun in a vast garden meticulously landscaped and decorated in climbing vines and flowers, watered by a discreet irrigation system that could have probably watered two dozen lawns or kept a family in water for months.
Everything was bright green and white, broken up with splashes of color from flowers and decorations. Windchimes competed with the soft country being bleated out by the live band tucked away in the absurdly large and overly ornate gazebo, and there were antique tables laid out with more food than even the dozens of people milling about could put away on a Sunday afternoon.
Not that Sonya wanted to eat. Her stomach was already in knots just being there - and how she'd left things with Johnny the last time they'd tried to talk, just a few days ago.
She'd had to leave before she'd figured out if she was going to apologize or not. She'd had to leave before she'd figured out if she was going to just let him go or not.
Why did it have to be my fault, this time?
"He is quite the peacock, though." Her grandmother lead her through the garden on a path she seemed to know was there without looking, their feet brushing over stones winding through the expansive property. "He wears his uniform as often as he can, and he carries his medals in his pocket!"
Part of Sonya winced at that. She knew how hard it was for soldiers who came home. She knew how much of their identity was being a soldier, how little of their civilian self was left after they finally left the service. She dreaded it and refused to think about it - about being a civilian again. Of not being in uniform. Of not serving.
She could respect his pain there as much as she respected his heroism in the war.
She couldn't respect the way he treated other people. The way he treated her. The way he'd treated her grandmother and his own brother long after he'd come home. Not because of PTSD or reintegration. But because her grandfather hadn't been able to serve - his eyesight had been horrific. Because his grandmother hadn't abandoned her husband for a 'better' man.
Him.
She saw the path her grandmother led her on leading right to him, where he sat at a table, surrounded by old men and a few younger men in uniform like hers. Young enlisted men from Exeter who had come home to celebrate the hometown hero's birthday - possibly even related to her, in some way.
"He's not nearly fancy enough to be a peacock." She didn't know why she was still arguing with her grandmother, other than it was something to say, and she knew she was expected to say something. "I know a real peacock."
She felt herself smiling in spite of herself. She'd called Johnny a peacock once, and he'd just laughed at her. He'd jumped away from the mirror where he'd been preening, wiggling his eyebrows at her - and caught her around the waist, trying to dip her like they were dancing.
"Well, my bright and pretty plumage caught your attention, didn't it?"
She had laughed right along with him. She'd tried to deny it. Tried to argue with him that it was everything about him that wasn't a preening peacock that had caught her attention, but he had just shushed her with a searing kiss before -
She swallowed hard.
"Oh, have you now? Some puffed up poppinjay trying to get your attention, hmm?" Her grandmother poked her in the side. "Some of them might not be so bad, you know."
Sonya laughed softly. "Not all of them, no. But my boyfr - friend - John," she cut herself off hard, hoping to keep too much from coming out at once, cursing herself for her slip. She didn't let Johnny refer to her as his 'girlfriend' so she wasn't going to use that damn word. Or use the name her grandmother just might know him by, "is the biggest peacock of them all. Flashy clothes, gold necklace, fancy car, and throwing his money everywhere, as if that's all that matters about him. Peacocks do it to get attention. Uncle Pierce does it because he thinks it makes him important."
It stung a little to say that, because heroism under fire was important and worthy of respect and recognition, but it couldn't be all there was to a soldier - to a person. It couldn't be the only thing that defined them. Honor. Service. Humility. Respect. Hard work. Discipline. Focus. All of these and more made a soldier, and far more than that made a person.
Sonya knew she was bad at being a person more often than not, but she also knew she was very, very good at being a soldier.
"Boyfriend?" Her grandmother practically cackled, drawing her a few steps away to another path; a longer, winding path that would eventually get them to Pierce Morgan, but gave them plenty of time to talk before that. "You have been holding out on me, Sonya. Tell me dear, who is this peacock who not only got your attention but got you to almost use a word I haven't heard you use since high school."
Sonya wished she had a free hand to rub the bridge of her nose, but she was still holding the stupidly tiny flute of now lukewarm champagne.
Yep. I fucked up.
There was no way to lie her way out of it. Her grandmother could spot her lies coming a mile off and wasn't above calling her on them.
She had to say something. As little as possible was the best plan. The bare minimum. If not less. Could she get away with classifying him as 'Human, male - one. Annoying, rich, annoyingly rich, and full of himself?'
Especially because she wasn't sure they were anything anymore. She hadn't answered his calls. Or texts. Or checked her email.
After what she'd said, she really didn't want to. She wasn't good at apologizing, and she wasn't good at being wrong. She was even worse at being the problem.
She'd made a career and a personality out of being the solution to problems. Often, violently.
"John. Carlton. From LA. More money than sense." She disliked she was whispering. She disliked how she was clenching her jaw. "Peacock. Like I said. Fancy clothes. No fashion sense. Fancy car he drives too fast. Lots of - admirers."
Her grandmother tugged on her arm, pulling her away from the milling crowds to a shaded bench near vast expanse of trellis festooned with patriotic decor and valiant red roses blooming in spite of being planted in Texas. They mingled with yellow and white roses, but the latter were far sparser.
Sonya found herself sitting next to her grandmother, who reached up and tugged Sonya's head around to face her.
"Sonya, you are lying to your grandmother, and I will not have it. Worse yet, you are lying to yourself."
Sonya blinked.
"Grandma, I'm not..."
"Hmph. I'm not done  yet, young lady. I heard the hitch in your voice. That tight tone you used to get with someone when they'd caught you in one of your messes. Either he's an embarrassment you'd rather never mention again or you're in one of your messes again."
Sonya set the champagne flute down.
"It's complicated. Really stupidly complicated."
Her grandmother's face softened, and she looked at Sonya with the stern edge her grandmother always had, but with the softness that came from both love and respect.
"You didn't answer my question. Tell me about him."
"I did!" Sonya folded her hands in her lap to avoid talking with them - a habit her grandmother had never managed to break her of, but she was trying to be aware of for at least that one afternoon. "He's a - "
Sonia Morgan cut her off again. "No, Sonya. Tell me about him. Either he's someone you want to forget and I'll drop the subject or he's not, and I won't. But either way, you will tell me about him. Because if you don't tell someone, you're going fall apart and spend weeks pretending you haven't."
Sonya tried (and failed) not to gape at her grandmother. How did she know?
"Close your mother, dear. There are worse than flies buzzing around these gardens. I'm a southern belle, granddaughter, and if there is one thing we know, it's when a woman is hiding a secret about her heart. There are a thousand tells even you can't hide behind your uniform. People love, Sonya. People look for love or they hide from love. It doesn't matter the shape of that love or the kind of that love, but for all our backwards ways, southerners know the need to give and receive love."
Sonya's hands clenched, then relaxed. "Johnny's - sentimental." She sniffed. "So utterly sentimental. He can't remember half the things he agrees to do, but he can remember what I was wearing the day we met. He's an idiot, but he cares. He cares about what people think of him and of others. He has this stupid image he thinks matters, and maybe it does, but it's stupid. He's - spontaneous. Incorrigible. He's like a big kid, sometimes, thinking things are 'cool' or 'awesome' all the time, even when they're just silly or just there. He cares more than he'll admit, because his 'image.' He's a fighter. He doesn't give up. Ever. On anything. Not on his career. Not on himself."
Not on me.
That thought stung. She was so willing to give up on him. On herself. On anything resembling them because -
She shook her head. She wasn't going to admit that.
She sighed. "He's stubborn. So. Stubborn. He kept flirting with me even when I turned him down...rather harshly. Repeatedly. When I asked him why, do you know what he told me?"
Her grandmother was smiling at her. "I assume it was all manner of uncouth and inappropriate from the look in your eyes."
"He told me I was fun to rile up. He liked making me mad because I was 'hot' when I got mad at him."
Sonia laughed and patted her granddaughter's arm. "You are fun to rile up. I've known that since you were a child. I could get you to storm around my kitchen, waving your arms and ranting at me about how you weren't some frilly stupid girly girl and how you didn't want to wear dresses or go to tea parties so easily."
Sonya narrowed her eyes. "You did that on purpose?"
"Of course I did. I love your fire, Sonya Blade. No granddaughter of mine will be one who doesn't speak her mind and speak it well! Did I or did I not force you to refine your arguments and debate with me until you were ready to scream to the heavens you didn't want to talk another minute?"
Sonya laughed. "Of course you used our fights to teach me to fight better."
"Damned right I did." Sonia glanced about, making sure no one heard her use such a foul word. "You're too smart not to argue right, even when you're mad. And I know you hated every minute of it, but learning to mingle and interact with people so very different from you is important. Even if you hate it. I know I taught you that, too. As much as I taught you good southern manners and to sit up straight and stand up straight, because as much as this world is changing, it's too hard for a woman to be taken seriously if she is seen as soft for even a single heartbeat."
Sonya sighed, her shoulders slumping. "You are one devious woman, grandma. But thank you."
"I am a southern woman. You'll meet no creature more devious, I promise you that. Now then, your 'Johnny' sounds like a man who loves deeply, loves often, and seeks joy - no matter what the more staid around him might think. Boys are good for that, you know. The best of them never grow up, and while that can make them insufferable at times, they will always want to make us laugh or smile or growl at them. Nothing makes them happier than making us feel something in a moment, and nothing gives them more satisfaction than doing something for us. He might have the insecurity of a boy, giving himself an 'image' to protect, but he sounds like he has the heart of a man, which is far more important. You can help him learn to love himself and he can help you learn you are more than you let yourself be. The best of them help us grow as much as we help them, you know."
Sonya shook her head. "He's not insecure. He's over confident, if anything."
Her grandmother rolled her eyes. "You still have so much to learn. Peacocks are insecure about their feathers. They fight each other, hoping to rip out the others' tailfeathers to make sure they are the brightest and prettiest. Your Johnny can't do that in this modern world, so he makes sure he gets the best feathers his money can buy. Trust me on this one, dear."
Sonya looked down at her hands. Could Johnny Cage really have - insecurities like that? She knew he was afraid of being considered a fake martial artist (which she knew was absolute garbage. The man was one of the best she'd ever seen, and that was saying something.)
"Maybe. But - "
"But nothing. Why isn't he here with you, Sonya?"
Sonya knew she could come up with a thousand and one excuses and some of them might even be true. His schedule was packed, and his work kept him busy. She hadn't told him about the event. She hadn't even told him much about her family.
I didn't even think to invite him.
She wasn't sure how she felt about that. She wasn't sure she wanted him meeting her family, because she wasn't sure how far inside her life she wanted to let him get when she might have to chase him back out again.
Sonya wished she was having any conversation but this one right then. Even one about Eric the welder. Welders were respectable craftsmen, and he would know where she could go to get a cold beer and some real food after this disaster.
Even the sound of someone else's souped up sportscar outside made her wince, because thinking about Johnny meant she missed Johnny - who was so much better at these sorts of events than she was. Even if he'd never been to one before, he'd charm everyone and manage to make everyone forget to be disappointed and disapproving of the girl raised in cosmopolitan Austin who had gone off to become a solider.
"I...we had a fight."
What? What did I just say? Why did I just say that? How could I say that?
She felt betrayed by her own mind. How had her grandmother gotten her to admit that?
"Hmm." Her grandmother patted her hand. "Still mad at him?"
Sonya took a deep breath. If she couldn't tell her grandmother, who could she tell? It wasn't like she was going to call up her mother and tell her. She could, but her mother was even better at getting emotions out of her than her grandmother, and she wasn't ready to tell her mother she might be in love with a movie star.
Who just might love her back.
"No." Sonya shook her head and threw back the warm champagne. "I'm mad at me. We fought, and it was my fault. I said stupid things because...well, because. He wanted me to go to a - a work thing - with him. He really wanted me to go. It's important, a big, big deal. For him, I mean. I'm not a trophy to be paraded around, no matter how important it is or how much of a role I played in the success of his - project. I wasn't nice about it."
She was skirting around 'my movie star sorta-boyfriend wants me to go to an awards gala where his new TV show based on their real life adventures on another world was getting bigtime awards' and how much she wasn't ready to be public with him like that.
To claim a relationship.
Tabloids catching photos of them at dive bars and fancy restaurants was one thing. Paparazzi snapping pictures of her in a bikini in his pool was somewhere between mortifying and flattering, but this wouldn't be celeb-watching fans seeing her online. This would be everyone seeing her at a Hollywood event, in a fancy dress he bought for her, getting out of a limo in front of cameras and rubbing elbows with the rich and famous.
Her soldiers would see her on TV. Her parents. Her family. Her friends. Everyone would see her as the arm candy of the action superstar whose comeback story was already Hollywood legend.
She also left out the part where she got so emotional she stormed out of her own apartment and went to sleep on base.
There were some things too mortifying to admit to. Especially to one's grandmother.
She was surprised her grandmother was letting them talk this long. She heard a commotion near the backdoor to the massive plantation home her great uncle's fraternal order met in, and there was quite a crowd gathering. Her grandmother would be mortified if they missed their chance to greet Pierce before he gave his speech - it would be a snub of the worst sort, and a social gaffe her grandmother wouldn't want to have to live down.
Her grandmother laughed. "Talk about insecurities. A trophy! Men are competitive, Sonya, and the worst of them view us as prizes to be won. If he's that sort, then you're best off without him. That's not the man you told me about, though. You said you helped him with his work. You said you're important to him, and he's sentimental. Isn't it possible you're deciding what he thinks based on what everyone around him might think? Or, are you so worried about what others think you didn't stop to think about why he might want you there? Or about compromises?"
"Compromises? What could he compromise on? I can't afford a dress for - that sort of event! We'd show up in a limo, and I can't be seen to be his kept woman! I'm a soldier. An officer. I represent the US Army!"
Her grandmother gave her a look that made her feel five again, griping about wearing a fancy dress to church. They'd compromised then, too. Nice pants and a nice blouse, but not a frilly dress.
They'd bought her dresses she hadn't hated, later. A lot later.
"Can't you go as a soldier? That uniform is mighty fancy, I think. You'd be there with him, all right. At his side. Even on his arm, if his work requires that sort of thing. But you won't be anyone but you. Even if I think wearing a pretty dress wouldn't hurt you as much as you think it might."
Sonya didn't roll her eyes, but it was a near thing. Her grandmother didn't know a damn thing about the kind of event she was talking about, but that was her own fault. But it didn't mean her grandmother was wrong about it. She could ask him about wearing her mess dress. It was allowed for formal events, and that was certainly formal - black tie was required.
She winced. She could have asked him. If he was still talking to her.
"When this is over, Sonya, we are going back to my house. I am going to fix you something to eat, since you refuse to even nibble at the expensive food laid out for us, and then you are going to call that man before you get back on your plane. Even if you tell him to shove off, no granddaughter of mine will leave things like that. You were raised better than to hide from the consequences of your own actions."
Sonya winced again. Her grandmother was right and that stung. She was hiding. And she hated being a coward, even in the complicated mess that was her personal life.
She'd call him. He probably wouldn't answer. All of the things she'd said? She might not answer if he'd called her after that.
She'd probably ruined everything - she was good at that. A good soldier, but bad at being a person.
She heard a familiar laugh, and felt a twinge of guilt and loneliness.
Okay. I'm just depressing myself at this point. I'm starting to hear him everywhere.
She stood up and offered her arm to her grandmother. "I will call him tonight. Before I get on the plane. I promise."
Her grandmother patted her arm again. "Better. Now, let's go get the first painful conversation over with before the old windbag starts to give his speech. Maybe one of us can take ill in the middle of it and we can leave early. Being this old has to be good for something, after all."
Sonya almost laughed at that. Who would have thought her grandmother would skip out on a garden party early?
She was about to make a comment about senior discounts being better than military discounts when she saw him.
He was standing there, shaking her great uncle's hand, a thousand watt smile on his face. He was dressed for the occasion, probably in something he'd 'borrowed' from some costume wardrobe somewhere, but it was nice enough to pass muster.
Though, I never would have thought he could pull off a Texas tuxedo.
He even had a brass belt buckle with his initials on it. (That didn't surprise her as much as the obviously new and obviously expensive cowboy boots.) She was glad he'd foregone the hat, because she wasn't sure if she could take him seriously in a stetson - the bolo tie was bad enough. He obviously had no idea how to wear it, which didn't surprise her a bit. He hated ties in general.
But she had to give him credit for trying. She wasn't sure what she should give him for being there.
"Johnny?"
Her grandmother looked up at and cackled softly. She saw the look on Sonya's face and saw Johnny's face when he caught sight of her, and her cackle turned into a full on laugh.
He smiled at her - not the smile he gave the cameras. Not the smile he gave the audiences. Not the camera he gave fans and interviewers.
The smile he gave to her.
His eyes lit up when he saw her, and she saw him gather every bit of swagger he had around him like a cloak, but -
She'd seen it. That momentary pause. That momentary fear that he'd come here just to be rejected.
That stung. It also tugged at something in her chest, and she wanted to go to him and reassure him and -
Oh fuck. I've caught feelings and now I have to do something with them.
Why weren't there Army regulations and procedures for this? There was a whole section in the damn handbook about shining your shoes, but nothing on how to navigate this?
"That's your Johnny? Dear heart, you might have mentioned he was that good looking. He's almost pretty enough to be a movie star!"
Sonya groaned softly. "Grandma..."
How was she supposed to break that news? Especially when it was apparent to the younger generation there just who Johnny was. There were a lot of stunned, star-struck faces as people stared and tried to make conversation with the comeback kid himself.
She sighed, and stood as straight as she could. Her grandmother had taught her better than to slouch after all.
Sonia let go of her arm and gave her small push. "Go on, then. He's tracked you all the way to Exeter, Texas. Don't know what else you need to know."
Sonya walked out from under the shade and crossed the garden, suddenly feeling - both more herself than she'd felt all day, and shockingly and painfully shy.
She ignored the paths and strode across the grass and right up to him. She wasn't sure what came over her, but she decided to accept his gesture for what it was. He'd tried to do what he'd told her people did: dress for the occasion.
She reached out and straightened his bolo tie, tucking it under his collar - which, thankfully, was not popped.
"Hi."
She was grateful a word came out. It was about the only word she was able to force out right then. She barely noticed the Army servicemen near her hear uncle muttering 'oh shit she's a lieutenant colonel!' and snapping to attention, saluting as best they could, given how many tiny flutes of champagne they'd probably had.
"Hey yourself."
His hands closed over hers.
"So. I know you're already mad at me, right? I figured, how much more mad could you be if I, you know, surprised you to talk to you face to face and maybe have a public fight? See, you left all the info about this on a post it note - did you know you write in all caps? - on top of your special leave paper and well, I just thought..."
Sonya rolled her eyes at him. She held up one finger, hoping he'd wait just one damn minute for her to process and - be a soldier. She turned to the servicemen, and saluted them back.
"At ease. It's a party. Stay sober, and if you can't do that, get a ride back. Got it?"
"Sir! Yes, sir!" They all grinned at each other as they backed away slowly. Their encounter with a randomly appearing superior officer had gone a lot better than they thought it might have, given all the young women hanging around them. (Sonya knew small-town Texas. They were most certainly being peacocks, and at least some of the straight small town girls would see them as tickets out of town. Even if Johnny's arrival had changed the landscape a bit.)
She turned back to Johnny. "You."
He grinned at her, but she saw the fear there in his eyes, and it made her chest ache. This wasn't what she wanted. She didn't know exactly what she did want, but it wasn't this.
"Me?"
She grabbed his hand and tucked her arm into his. She did not tell him he was taking the traditional position of 'being escorted' but she figured it was her small revenge for him showing up - as sweet a gesture as it was.
"Let's take a walk."
"Uh...sure?" He let her lead him away from the crowd of admirers. "I mean, we could go sit down or something. I saw champagne!"
"Johnny, if we stop moving, our every word will be heard, remembered, and discussed for posterity for the next three generations of this town. You're a movie star. They all just remembered I'm an actual officer in the Army, and my grandmother is about to passive aggressively sass the guest of honor for being a tool. We're not sitting down and you do not want that champagne. I think you're allergic to 'cheap.'"
Johnny laughed. "So, the sass is genetic? Makes sense. Grandmother, huh? Can't wait to meet her. But you make it sound like we're being hunted."
Sonya rolled her eyes. "Sass is genetic and southern and I am nowhere near as brutal or skilled as grandma. You will meet her. There's nothing I can do to stop it, and I'd feel sorry for you, but you crashed the party, so it's your own fault. And we are being hunted. We are the most exciting thing to happen here since my great uncle got back from Korea, and everyone wants to know why I know a movie star."
"I'm a TV star too, now." Johnny grinned at her, boyish pride in his new series and success shining through. And this time, Sonya smiled back.
"Yeah. You are. Look, I'm -"
Johnny shook his head. "Nope. Don't you dare. I came all the way to Texas to tell you something, and I'm going to tell you now. Before this conversation goes any further. I know you're blaming yourself and you're all tied up about what you said and how you said it. And yeah, harsh. You weren't nice, but I wasn't listening. Again. I just got excited. I jumped straight to the fun part. Taking you out and showing you, well, showing you my world. Giving you the chance to be the woman everyone looked at and wanted to be. Letting you be seen for the awesome, amazing, and stunningly sexy lady you are."
He sucked in a deep breath. "Only, I forgot. That's me. That my world and not yours. That's my high, not yours. I just wanted you there when I win. When what we went through is transformed into something new and amazing and there is just that modicum of appreciation. Where I could stand at that podium and say 'see her? The badass girl in the show is based on her.' And then watch people see you. I didn't think 'what would being there mean when Sonya went home?' You told me, and, well...I didn't hear it."
Sonya groaned and pushed her shoulder into his, letting herself get closer to him. "You're an idiot sometimes, Johnny Cage. You're my idiot, though. Look. I'm sorry for what I said. How I said it. I shouldn't have gotten so - angry about it. I just got scared, okay? And I'm not good at being scared or being a person or a lot of things that come with you and me."
Johnny stopped them, just for a moment. He put his hands at her waist. He captured her eyes with his, and stepped very close to her. Close enough she could feel the warmth from sun radiating off his absurdly white shirt. "Whoa. No. You are good at being a person, Sonya. You are a person. You aren't good at feelings, but I'm not good at feelings, either. Thing is, I like you enough to get better at them. And I will! Eventually! I don't think about you being scared, because you're you...but I get it. I'm not going to fight with you about it. You said no, and that's that. I'll call my agent, get some model to come with me - because my contract with his agency says I can't go stag - and I'll text you snarky comments about what everyone's wearing all night."
Something fierce writhed through her gut and settled her chest. She heard his words and she knew what he was saying: he had a legal obligation to have someone with him at the event. He hadn't even bothered to plan a backup. He'd just - assumed he could convince her to do it.
But the idea of him going to an event like that with someone else hanging off his arm awoke something in her. Something she hadn't ever felt in a relationship before.
"Don't even think about it, Johnny Cage." She fisted the lapels of his sport coat. "I am going with you, but you are not buying me a dress. I will be going as who and what I am. A soldier. I will be in mess dress uniform and while I will be on your arm, I will be your partner, not a trophy. Not arm candy."
Johnny grinned. His eyes lit up. "You mean this whole time I could have had you come in uniform and I didn't even know it? Aren't the rules about that? Do you know how you look in that? I mean, come on, Sonya..."
Sonya just sighed and rested her forehead against his. "Yes. I can come in uniform. I will go in uniform. It's allowed, because it's black-tie formal. Hell, the Army will love having me there in uniform. Okay?"
His grin twitched and he darted in, stealing a quick kiss. "Okay! Now can we get champagne and meet your grandmother? Since we're not fighting now?"
Sonya glanced around at the tableau of the garden party. She'd grown up knowing some of these people. Many of them had opinions on her. She was there to honor her great uncle and his service. She was supposed to be a proper southern girl, even in uniform.
Using her great uncle's birthday party to introduce her - boyfriend - to her grandmother was probably at the very least uncouth, if not against the rules.
She was okay with that.
Sonya tilted Johnny's head towards her and gave him a much slower, more thorough kiss.
He'd come all the way to Exeter, Texas to apologize to her. To make things right between them - to tell her it wasn't her fault. To tell her he was trying to listen.
"Come on. Let's go meet my grandmother. By now, she's probably made great uncle Pierce wish he was back in Korea being shot at. Just try not to be too LA and you'll be fine. Did you know she thinks you're very pretty? Almost pretty enough to be a movie star."
"Hey! Wait a minute. She doesn't recognize me?"
Sonya patted his shoulder. "She's almost eighty and wishes John Wayne still  made movies. Besides, even if she did recognize you, she would never tell you that. And if you tell her you're a movie star, you'd be bragging. So all you can really say is you're an actor and have steady work in Hollywood, or she'll call you names. She might even bless your heart."
Johnny frowned. "Isn't that a good thing?"
Sonya laughed. "This is going to be fun. For me, I mean."
4 notes · View notes
spideysirens · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
Mortal Kombat 1 so far
6K notes · View notes
janetcage · 3 months
Text
Guys, I have a way that both Cageblade and Johnshi can win
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
honestlyitsjustsam · 5 months
Text
some drawings of mine that i forgot to post on here
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
also kenshi gettin backshts (slightly suggestive)
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
izu · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
i like w. when
Tumblr media
900 notes · View notes
edenianleena · 7 months
Text
OMG, Bi-Han.👀❄️💙✨
Tumblr media
✨✨✨
2K notes · View notes
hiroeghjj · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Johnny knew he pulled 2 baddies
2K notes · View notes
muehehe33 · 30 days
Text
Tumblr media
839 notes · View notes
dubiousdisco · 29 days
Text
Tumblr media
LIU KANG LEGIT DYING AND JOHNNY AND SONYA LIKE THIS
Tumblr media
481 notes · View notes
shurryal · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
Oh, yes, me, my husband and his blind telekinetic swordsman BF
2K notes · View notes
tazahan · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
Sorry Sonya, he's old men yaoi now
3K notes · View notes
thenotebookwizard · 9 months
Text
Exhibition Match CageBlade Week 2023: Day 5 - Moves
TITLE: Exhibition Match (CageBlade Week 2023 Day Five: Moves)
FANDOM: Mortal Kombat - All Media Types; Mortal Kombat (Video Games)
RATING: T
SUMMARY:
Which had led to them going to the park. Which had now lead to something that had every soldier on base or close enough to get there fast enough trying to find a good vantage point to watch. Standing in the middle of a baseball diamond of all things, Johnny Cage and Liu Kang were sparring. Liu Kang comes to LA for the season finale premiere of Johnny Cage's new show. After all, it was partially his fault. And the two of them can't help but show off. On Sonya's military base.
Liu Kang almost never came to visit.
He wasn't the biggest fan of LA. He didn't mind America so much as Kung Lao did, but he wasn't a fan of the glitz and glamor of Hollywood or the massive disparity between classes of LA citizens. But he'd accepted Johnny's invitation to come for the screening of the season finale of Warriors of Light, mostly because Johnny hadn't stopped pestering him about it.
He'd shown up at the airport looking nothing like a Shaolin monk or Champion of Earth Realm. He'd been in casual pants, sneakers, a t-shirt and a hoodie. He had only one bag and had his normal boundless energy and restless serenity.
Johnny, of course, had taken his friend out for a night on the town and somehow managed to get Liu Kang drunk. The two of them had shown up at Sonya's apartment because Johnny had lost his keys somewhere and Liu Kang was too drunk to be of any help.
The next morning, after the two had recovered from their hangovers and had found Johnny's keys - in his pocket - Sonya had somehow been convinced to take them on base so Liu could see Jax.
Which had led to them going to the park. Which had now lead to something that had every soldier on base or close enough to get there fast enough trying to find a good vantage point to watch.
Standing in the middle of a baseball diamond of all things, Johnny Cage and Liu Kang were sparring.
Sonya and Johnny sparred all the time; he even went a few rounds with Jax from time to time, but their fighting styles were different. The two of them were able to drive each other hard and had some impressive matches - they certainly kept each other on their toes.
But it was nothing quite like - that.
Sonya knew there was a difference between classically trained martial artists and the kind of no-holds-barred brutality the spec ops taught. She was proud of those differences, and she knew what she did made her a dangerous fighter and more than capable of fighting - and winning - against fighters like Johnny and Liu.
But watching two classically trained martial artists go at each other, full speed, full power, with nothing held back had a special kind of drama to it. A kind of deadly grace; it was almost a dance at times, and other times it was a harsh and direct as anything spec ops used.
They were almost never more than a foot or two apart, and their arms and legs moved with entrancing speed. Strikes blurred into blocks and blocks became strikes as their bodies twisted through techniques embedded so deep into their muscles and bones that thought had nothing to do with them.
Their faces were expressionless and full of determination and then full of grinning chagrin if the other got a move in. Neither man was out of breath and neither man was backing down as they flowed around her other in a never-ending, never pausing flow of motion.
The only sound from either of them was the occasional grunt or barked laugh and the sound of flesh hitting flesh.
It had started out innocently enough. Liu Kang had been looking up at the afternoon sun, and had stripped off his shirt and started stretching and working forms in the middle of the baseball field.
As if that was a thing people just did.
Johnny - not to be outdone - had stripped off his own shirt and started doing the same. And then - as if by some unspoken message - they had turned to each other and bowed.
There had been a long, endless minute; a frozen tableau of stillness - the pause of waiting for the right moment. Then, as one, they had started moving.
And they hand't stopped moving for several minutes. Sweat poured down their faces and backs and chests; chiseled, lean muscle rippled and writhed as they both strove for the one, perfect advantage.
"He looks like he's having fun." Jax stepped up next to her, watching the two slowly working their way around the field. "If one of them gets killed on my base, I'll kill them both. And the first one of them that throws a fireball is going in the stockade. "
Even in the heat, the big man was wearing a hoodie and gloves.
"Do we have a stockade?" Sonya didn't take her eyes away from the spectacle, her mind analyzing their form, their technique, seeing a half dozen places she could have slipped a knife or whipped out her gun.
She wasn't watching Johnny. She wasn't appreciating shirtless Johnny being effortlessly badass. She certainly wasn't paying closer attention to him than she was to Liu.
"We have jail cells. They'll work for this."
Sonya huffed. "Let them play, Jax."
"I don't like it." The gruff soldier crossed his arms and glared at the two of them.
The stands were half-full, and there were more people loitering around the edges of the field. And no few people with their phones out, including one of the officers from the understaffed, underworked, and bored press office. He'd been filming since the two had started their forms, and Sonya knew the video was going to be online before dinner.
Johnny would be thrilled, because if this didn't prove he was the real deal, Sonya wasn't sure what would.
They broke apart, both falling into their opening stances; Liu Kang bowed, hand over fist and Johnny with his hands at his side. They looked up at each other a grinned like a pair of kids. Johnny rubbed the side of his jaw.
"Damn you're fast!"
Liu laughed softly. "You could be faster if you didn't live in a place where you have to chew the air."
"Hey, I was raised here! Smog is part of my diet!"
"That explains so much." Liu was shaking his head. "Again?"
The two turned to face each other, and bowed again.
The soldier with his phone out was watching with bated breath and wide eyes. "Holy shit, Colonel. What the fuck is this?"
Jax grunted. "Idiots fighting in my park."
Sonya sighed. It was a sad day when she was the diplomatic one. Besides, she knew Jax was only growly because he wasn't going to be able to join in the fun. He couldn't show off his arms in public like that.
"That is Liu Kang, visiting from the White Lotus Temple." She spoke softly, but loud enough for the mic to pick it up. "He's one of Johnny's best friends. The two don't get together often, but when they do - they like to play."
She couldn't resist. She knew it was stupid; but she hated hearing people call Johnny a fake. She hated hearing about how he wouldn't be able to fight without a choreographer and a stuntman, because she knew he was a fighter. She knew he could stand against the worst of the worst, and she knew at his heart, Johnny - despite living for the adoration of his fans and his own acclaim - would fight for anyone who needed him to.
For the fate of a single person or the fate of the world itself.
He'd just want to be televised.
"Liu is a Shaolin monk and one of those who keeps the ancient traditions and martial forms alive. He's been trained since birth in martial arts. In America, we use the words 'kung fu' to describe it - which basically means 'hard work.' Each of what we call a 'style' of Kung Fu is really a discrete martial art. Most study a single of these forms, but Liu, being chosen to carry on the legacy of these traditions, has studied harder than most and knows them all."
The Press Officer had slipped into his professional mode, his phone barely wavering as Johnny and Liu flew at each other again. Somehow, they seemed faster. Their movements sharper, harder and then falling away to softer flows and deflections.
As if the first bout had been testing each other out, and now they were finally ready to show the other what they could really do.
"You know Johnny Cage pretty well, Lieutenant Colonel. How is a Hollywood star able to hold his own against a monk trained from birth to fight?"
Sonya let herself actually smile, if only because she was behind the camera and no one would ever see it. "Because Johnny Cage has been training since childhood in martial arts, too. From neighborhood gyms and after school programs to training centers and dojangs all over the country. He's hardly a novice and has more championships under his belt than you had followers - until today, I reckon."
"Yes, ma'am. After today, I'll have a fair few followers. Won't keep 'em without more to show them, but I might be a big name for an entire week after this. Erm...if I'm, you know, allowed to post this."
Sonya sighed and rolled her eyes. "Yeah. You can. You were already going to until I started talking. Don't mention my name, or you'll be scrubbing toilets with your toothbrush until you muster out. Clear?"
"Yes, ma'am. Clear. Crystal clear. Umm...do you know why Mr. Kang is here?"
Sonya resisted the urge to sigh again. She'd just had to open her mouth, didn't she? "Master Kang is here for the finale premiere of Warriors of Light. He might as well have a credit on it. Johnny's been mining him for ideas for months, but Liu refuses to take any official credit."
The soldier's eyes were wide as Liu did some kind of spinning move that literally took him *over *Johnny's head - and not to be outdone, Johnny ducked low, rolled, then came up and did a flip over Liu's head in response.
Now they were just showing off. For the fun of it.
"So they really are friends?"
Sonya scoffed. "I just said they were close, didn't I? Believe it or not, Lieutenant, Johnny has friends all over the world. Somehow."
The two bowed to each other again, but this time - the inevitable happened. There was a rush of children running right at the two of them in some kind of hive-mind stampede, the overcharged excitement of a live-action performance of a silver screen worthy martial arts scene revving them up to the point they could not resist the chance to talk to, mimic, and show off for the two fighters.
Sonya knew what was coming next. There was no avoiding it, because neither Liu Kang or Johnny Cage were going to resist the chance to try to teach the mob of tiny humans how to fight.
Or how to think about fighting.
"Keep your camera on, Lieutenant. You're about to get the video that will make your internet career."
2 notes · View notes
lonelynight13 · 24 days
Text
Admiring the view
Tumblr media Tumblr media
He figured he couldn't be with her long ago, so he started to see her as a little sister instead.
407 notes · View notes
wizard-amulang · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
some sketches 💘
886 notes · View notes
mortal-kombat-1 · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
lisokay · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
What
991 notes · View notes