Description: Aranha travels to Southtown deep in the heart of the seediest area of Chinatown to check out whether or not the fight club there would be worth sticking around. Juri shows up offering fun but does he want any part of her particular brand of fun?
The figure of a slim Asian girl weaves an seemingly drunken course through one of Chinatowns alleyways, wandering just a few paces deeper into the alleys before hesitating to perhaps steady herself against a wall, to hunch over and lean down settling on her haunches and lingering for moments before moving on. Fingertips brush along the brickwork, tracing the heavy and thin scrape and the fainter wave impressions than fan out away from it, there's no paint mixed into the mortar or pulverised brick.
The chain scores the wall as his opponent dodges out of the way, he's at least seven feet tall and powerful this chain wielder. His opponent just barely managed to dodge, the chain swingin giant is at least seven feet tall; the deflection off the wall saved some of his power as the chain rebounded in part and forced his opponent away, the next blow was already being wound up, he chases his opponent-
To here-There concrete is rough, cracked and broken. Fragmented chips or asphalt roll around loose underfoot, more than a city's usual wear and tear even if the other signs weren't starting to mount up.
Juri tries to follow the movements of the combatants, but.. they get mixed, there is too much 'noise' from here on out. Scuff marks high on the wall, dumpsters dented inward and shunted on odd angles. Faceless ethereal manikins dance through old routines and recreate the paths that lead to the detail scoring the walls, the nimble leaps and feats of wall running that scuffled rubber marks onto the original coat of paintwork the buildings were once coloured; and higher still than the graffiti artists seemed to paint without the aid of a stepladder.
The mannequins cease their dance and fade away as her ability to trace their next movement vanishes, flickers of fights: only moments, but there are so many in the one seedy little alley.
She doesn't even notice the faint smile creeping its way across her face, because there is just too much to take in and the promise of even more deeper in. Southdown wasn't looking so disappointing now after all, she was closing in on something good.
"Almost there."
This was starting to feel like it might be worth getting excited over.
Meanwhile, a light-skinned black man, is close by in the crowd having been at this particular venue for awhile. For the most part, he's been keeping incognito. He didn't really want to be noticed at this particular point since it would get in the way of he main objective. The reason for being here was singular goal of observation but there were so many things he needed to observe.
First he needed to observe the fighters and the environment. He needed to know whether this place would be worth the time spent here as a fighter and what things in the environment could be used on or by his opponents. He observed the type of payouts the fighters were getting for that same reason. He was observing the type of money was being passed around in the form of betting. He was also watching to find out who seemed to be the organisers, who seemed to be the high rollers and such to see if he could make money off of betting if not fighting.
And most importantly he was observing those around him who seem to be approaching him. It wouldn't do for him to fall victim to the methods he had used in the past like pick pocketing and mugging. Plus if he were to fall pray to that, he wouldn't have money to gamble which would also be bad to happen to him while he was here
Might have walked by the door in the middle of the day, unassuming and plain, the only thing it had going for it was the metal plates on the door and the speakeasy grill just slightly above her eye line. Just bangs her fist hard against the door, three raps should be enough to get anyone's attention if anyone was -
"The slide squeals and bangs open sharply, She can feel those eyes even if she can't make out the face studying her form from behind this lightly armoured door. She left standing quietly at the mercy of the bouncers appraisal of her before an gruff
'Business or pleasure?'
Juri brushes one of her bangs from her face as she descends the few stairs. The whole place reeks with the strong odour of sweat and a general stink of humans, conflict and debauchery interwoven . She's not the only woman present but taken no real notice of who is here, focused solely and completely on the 'arena' laid out for combatants, surrounded on all sides by betting and yelling spectators mixing together their cheers and curses in a constant stream of noise punctuated by meaty heats and the colliding of the fighters involved.
She pauses to enjoy the sensations and stimuli before hopping down the last few steps and walking toward the crowd and forcing her way through for a better spot. She bumps, presses against and slices through the crowd intent on getting a better view of the fight; causing only a small disturbance with most everyone fixated on the fight. Juri brushes past several patrons and even gets shunted and bumped back by a couple of the burlier or more aggressive ones who instinctively push back or react to her presence cutting past them. Settling vantage point from which she has a decent view she finally reaches it only to find it already occupied. Not to be dissuaded she slips into the same area and forces aside one of the other patrons so she is standing beside the Incognito Aranha . The first time someone in the crowd jostles her she thuds into him in way of applied physics but quickly adapts her stance and roots her stance as she turns to exchange a glare with the fool patron pressing up against her that caused the impact, the contest of wills and presence is over before it begins as the guy immediately slips back further in the pecking order with her staring after him until he successfully vanishes into the crowd. Losers like him should stick to the back
It's amazing how much attention could get drawn upon you simply because someone else was near you. The moment that Aranha has Juri jostled right into him, he shifts his weight, not so much to push back as to hold his ground. Thankfully there's no more pushing coming his way so he could resume his observations. The problem is that in the moment of dealing with Juri's body getting shoved into him, he ends up missing the moment of one fighter in the ring just getting laid out with blood spraying from his mouth upon impact with the fist that caused his physical orientation to go from vertical to horizontal. He's left on the ground for a few seconds while more blood oozes from his mouth and onto the 'arena' floor.
Mostly groans and a few cheers fill the room as money changes hands from betting on this particular bout. And as for the capoeirista's face, it looked like he expected to that outcome.
Aranha turns his attention to Juri which happens to fall upon the tail end of the contest of wills and he raises an eyebrow. Even with the size difference between her and the person who shoved there's no appearance of intimidation. In fact he can see the confidence of someone who knows how to fight and enough to make bigger men cower.
He turns to the ring as the announcer annnounces the next fight yet it's clear that what he's saying is meant for her ears. "Fighting or scouting?"
The exclamation of outrage with too few cheers as one of the fighters goes down punctuates the realization that she had just missed what she wanted to see anyway; before Juri even turns back to the arena floor her mood has soured something awful. The sight of the victor celebrating his win does nothing for her; she missed the best part by a cursed second. Unfortunate but it looks like there will be more to come, the show will continue.
The winner looked pretty strong, she guesses there were long odds and a lucrative payoff on the other guy, the people cheering were condensed into a small area; probably his family or friends, maybe management.
The low tenor cuts under the grumbling and hubbub of the crowd as the next match is being announced, the speaker is roughly her height though he might have a couple of centimetres on her. In the fuzzy morass of the faceless 'people' that populate the crowd he quickly solidifies as she notes and gauges him. Strong stance, good sharp crescent shaped scar on his face just below his eye, A lion hidden in the reeds, and right at her side.
Her gaze lingers perhaps a little too long on his face, the scar, deep into his eyes and what she can see of his figure, she blinks and turns her sights back to the arena but she acknowledges him.
"Watching for now, maybe I'll have some fun later on."
The only other person whose face she bothers take in is that of the victor exiting from the area and surrounded by those who were cheering for him, he was strong enough that she noticed him ... he wasn't trash and was clearly fighting a little below his level. Her gaze travels after the retreating winner and is predatory by nature -- But she has no intent on leaving the arena just yet. She only just got here, expecting a show.
Her arms folded and smiling faintly she watches patiently for now, no pockets or signs of money or interest in the betting. Watching the next fighters warm up, just ignoring the unimportant and focusing exclusively on her interests and the tiny percentage of figures worth noting, not many.. but there was a quality to them she felt excited by.
Aranha keeps his gaze /mostly/ straight ahead though he keeps a watch on her out of the corner of his eye. "Fair enough," he responds. "It seems like there's plenty of money to be had though so far no one particularly /too/ interesting. It seems like the crowd here is a little too enamored with size. It's only a matter of time before a skilled David shows up and starts picking their pockets clean on the bodies of the multiple Goliaths here."
He finally turns to the Korean and shrugs. "Of course, the night is still young and perhaps someone will show us something interesting."
And that's when next two fighters are brought in. Both seem to be relatively close in build and size and bets start being placed around them while he turns his attention the fight. From what could be heard in their area, betting for both fighters is relatively even, thus confirming his analysis of the fight club so far. A few moments later the fighting starts and one of the fighters seems to maintain a poised defense while the other appears to take on an aggressive approach in the beginning.
The female fighter gives her associate a sidelong glance, his standards were pretty high, and offhandedly she wonders what kind of quality the fights there are to see around here. The place isn't bad but it's hardly her ideal, a backroom beatings and betting house wasn't really on the same level as the kind of desperation and frantic, deadly action that heated her blood to boiling. But it wasn't bad.
She responds to the subject of money only by registering that he is speaking to her. Ah, so he was here maybe motivated by the money and betting, it's better a reason than nothing, not a pointless exercise even if it was a dull one.
"Oh, money huh?"
Juri toys with one of her bangs stroking it between index finger and thumb as she waits for the match to begin, Weighing and measuring the opponents might impede her enjoyment and thusly she distracts herself to keep things interesting, she does cast a glace to her side as she does so checking to see where her friend has his attention focused. If she decided they were trash before they even fought it would be a much less amusing fight.
When the actual fight begins however she is pleasantly surprised by the quality, maybe there was something to some of these Western fighters, training though a lot of battles tended to gain a lot of experience, it created a different kind of beats than the feral and desperate monsters of a real blood sport. How would they handle a fight to the death, what would it even look like with all that experience and training was snatched away along with their lives, would they rage or despair.. would they beg?
Juri leans forward, she's almost salivating watching. Swallowing hard and brushing her lips with her fingerless gauntlet, she /was/ salivating at the prospect and fantasies parading through her head. At the same time as her follows the ebb and flow of the fight in progress.
"Yup. Gotta pay the bills, somehow."
While his eyes are forward, he's giving most of his attention to the fight, clinically breaking down their measurables such as height, weight, and limb length then using their eyes, stance, and movement to get a general idea of their intangibles such as confidence in their ability, technique and adaptability. It was with significantly more fascination that he watched these two combatants. With less size than some others they both seemed to have major chips on their shoulder and something to prove. As a result, this was, by far, a higher quality of fight
He takes a glance at his current companion and the look on her face puts him ill at ease. Considering muscle tone, she was athletic, probably moves with as much ease as he does. Her high level of confidence in her ability was displayed earlier in the evening, and the appearance of blood lust in her eye was another factor that caused the Dancing Spider to put her in a catagory of regard with caution and a healthy respect for her capabilities since that was the type of fighter who you made a mistake against, you could end up hospitalized. They tended to be the most brutal with a few exceptions here or there. All of this without even watching her throw a single punch or kick.
Pretty good! The fighters move well and fight with power, technique and passion; well to ber sure! But these are men competing for gains and prestige, they aren't the moves of dyed in the wool killers. However desperate the struggle it is a match-up to achieve victory and go no further than that, it's a shame really. However skilled these men were, if their lives were on the line? They would shine at their very brightest right before they were snuffed out.
Being a Taekwondo prodigy had meant nothing to her, less still when she discovered it was just a sport and she could win and defeat opponents with movements that wouldn't have even harmed them, create the mistakes and opening that lead to her wins. Adult masters felled by a girl who could strike them in such a manner as to gain points simply because it was a competitive sport rather than a real fight.
Blood being spilled and bones cracked was a sign of real competition, ultimate stakes and big wins, absolute and final endings. Her blood was simmering a little in response to the stimulation and she suddenly turns. She recalls the face of the fighter from earlier and scans the crowd for him, was he leaving just yet?
Zeroing in on him rather than the fight in progress she focus her attention on him, he seems aware enough of his surroundings to sense her gaze and follow it back to the Pair of Aranha and Juri. Anyone in the ground with actual psychic powers or precognition could have told him to run long before he awkwardly raises a hand and waved in response, perhaps he thought her a fan, or that she was interested in winners.
Juri has a playdate.
"That's cute, I think he likes me or you. Are you maybe interested in a double date?"
That one eye almost smoulders and she's plainly smiling now, though it looks she might be having some fun. She turns the other way and sets a hand gently against Aranha's arm. An invitation, but to what exactly?
Aranha, first and foremost is a logical person and in fights he tends to be the type of person who operates more on what type methods make sense for a given situation rather than intuition. He's not a psychic nor does he have precognitive abilities(though one could reckon he could probably make bank off of impersonating a psychic with his skills at cold reading).
When he looks into the Korean woman's eye, as she makes her offer, a feeling of, 'this would be a bad idea' washes over him. No proof, just instinct screaming at him loudly and the info that from he gathered from his cold read of her earlier. She was just as dangerous as he was if not moreso. He's a logical person but even still he had to acknowledge instinct sometimes. And it was telling him that it was going to get him caught up in something he didn't want to be involved in.
His heart starts racing, his palms start sweating. But except for those things he appears to be the picture of calm. A small smirk appears on his face.
"No thanks. I get the feeling that if I show up, I'm only gonna be a third wheel."
Juri releases her hold and withdraws her arm. It was indeed a pity, and she expresses her disappointment by closing her one good eye and a sharp head shake. An incorrect answer, things could have been so very much more fun, a little good-natured disbelief, she had confidence in her looks, but the sneaking suspicion he was trying to read deeper than her appearance. Had he been sizing her up as well as the fighters in the arena?.
"Your stock is rising, Careful you don't make me want you too much! I'm actually impressed."
She bumps shoulders with him as she walks towards the back of the crowd, the space she leaves behind; the crowd expands to fill and she is lost to sight quite quickly. It isn't long before she reappears over the other side of the arena, standing alongside the fighter from earlier.
Expressing her interest she singles him out and separates him from his group all to easily as they leave him be with the cute little Asian girl. Juri leaves on his arm with only a interested glance backwards to see what her intriguing stranger, unknown as Aranha was doing --But is already happy enough with her take for the night, It could have been more. He wanted his money, she wanted her fun.
It would be six weeks later before 'Steve' would wake up from his date with Juri Han.
Log created on 03:26:43 11/10/2014 by Aranha, and last modified on 22:09:51 11/10/2014.