Description: During the fight for the People's Champion, a certain punk princess was asked for her autograph. It's not so much that she'd forgotten, just that she had a few things to take care of immediately after disembarking. An e-mail changes all that, and it's up to her to make her way back to the harbor to give away the promised signature. That's all it's supposed to be. Then Tiffany starts asking questions. Is she going to like the answers she gets?
A ninja, Tiffany ain't. But she still has her ways of getting info. She's not a very high tech person, but when it comes to networking, the girl knows what she's doing. Still, it might be a little surprise that Arika finds an e-mail from the Pacific High cheerleader in her inbox, even if Arika normally doesn't give out her e-addy outside of perhaps a dummy account for publicity.
The message is simple, wanting to arrange for a get together down by the docks... ostensibly for the girl to get that autograph she asked for... but reading between the lines, there's something on the Jinchuu champ's mind. It's a lovely red sunrise that finds her standing by the pier that once moored the ninja's little carnival cruise. She wears a simple (and surprisingly sedate) ensemble, blue blouse, white pants, red shoes... and a complicated hairdou... but then, her hair's always complicated. Tiffany gazes out over the water, as if trying to find something there.
Normally when one receives an e-mail of the variety which states 'meet me at the docks', it's not exactly fan mail. Good ol' Marcy nearly tossed the letter, thinking it was blackmail. The word 'autograph' caught her and and lo-and-behold the e-mail was forwarded to the punk princess.
Where Arika actually is though is anyone's guess. After disembarking the wonderfully crowded submarine she was carried back to Southtown on, she dropped off the radar. Eva might have known where she snuck off to, and likely a few others could -guess-, but she never said a word. Just took off down the pier toward the beach.
But daybreak sees her returning from pretty much the same direction she left. Quiet footsteps carry her down the pier, a cool wind in the air whips around her causing stray fly-away strands to fall into her eyes. Catching the rays of the early morning sun, she's disquieted by the fact that she's suddenly recalling an old nursery rhyme:
Red sky at night, sailor's delight;
Red sky at morning, sailor's warning.
Ironic, since she's no longer aboard a ship and yet her thoughts still run in that direction.
Before heading to where Tiffany stands, she makes her way over to the few stray bags and boxes that were unloaded after she disappeared and she picks out a lone, black military style bag. Fairly large in size and though it looks rather fluffy and filled with clothes it seems quite heavy as she hefts the strap over her shoulder.
"'ey," she calls to the cheerleader. "S'pose I owe you that autograph."
It probably helped that the server of the email was traceable back to the Lords estate. Tiffany was using her wealthy family's email in place of her school server, to avoid giving off that fangirl glow. But maybe she just got lucky in catching Marcy's eye. She looks up and away from contemplating the rippling sea and gives an embarrassed smile, waving briskly, "Hey! Yeah!"
An awkward moment or two passes as she spends it looking several somewheres else, "You know, it isn't rilly fer me, it's for a friend. Not that yer music isn't good, I mean!" It's the old stock excuse... though for Tiffany, it might be believable. It's hard to picture the giddy cheerleader being into punk. Then again, some would say it's hard to imagine her being able to dent street lamps with her punches.
With a very careful movement, the diva sets the bag down on the dock and leans it against the railing. No point in keeping it on her still wounded shoulder any longer than necessary after all.
"Hmm? Oh, sure, wotever." Arika rises her shoulders in a small shrug, not seeming to be offended at all by the statement. Plenty of times the autographs are for someone else, and either way she doesn't mind giving them. "Just gimme a moment 'ere..." Fingers fumble with the zipper on the newly reacquired bag and with a loud *zzzzt* she draws it open. Pushing around some of the clothing, a ray of sun's light catches on a glint of metal.
"Hmm..."
Quickly rearranging the clothing over that glint, she frowns and then reaches deeper into the bag.
"Aha!"
Pulling out an unopened Femme Fatale CD, she places it atop the railing. A swift *zzzzt* later and the bag is closed once more.
"Think this'll do then?"
Tiffany glances over at the CD and lets a little smile across her face. It's a smile of relief, as much as anything else, to judge from the relaxing of her shoulders, "That's great, thanks! I thought you might still be ups-" she kind of cuts herself off right there, as if to try and cut off the memory of the rather awkward (chesty) bum-rush attack.
Instead, she watches to see how Arika signs the CD, and formulates her next statement thoughtfully, "Arika... why'd you join Jinchuu?" Tiffany's already recovered quite a bit from the conflict physically.. call it partly from being a fighter, partly from being... Tiffany. Her face isn't red anymore, and the cross-sticky bandaid across her forehead looks more of an affectation than necessary. But obviously, it still weighs on her mind.
Oh, right. Actually -signing- the CD means she needs an implement with which to write. Reaching into her jeans pocket, she pulls out a purple permanent marker and quickly scrawls her name, dotting the 'i' with a little heart. Nothing overly fancy, but it is rather early in the morning and the diva is still in the process of waking up.
"Still upset? Over wot? The fact you won, or the fact you seemed to be comin' on to me durin' that match?" Smirking, she hands the CD over to Tiffany and shakes her head. "Don't sweat it. I've got a few odd female fans, ain't nothin' new to me." It's unsettling, but a fight is a fight. Sometimes one can't change their style just because they're facing an opponent of the same sex. Look at wrestlers, after all. Some of those grapples can get pretty up-close-and-personal.
"Ahh... do you want the -truth- or do you want the pretty lil' answer I usually 'and out?"
Tiffany takes the CD with a little smile at the heart on the 'i.' It's something she does when she writes, herself. Opening her handbag, she slides the crysal case away, revealing for a moment, a flash of red inside the purse. She really /does/ carry boxing gloves around with her! She smirks a bit, "I... it's... the part of me with the most momentum, sometimes." she explains.
Then, Arika asks her question, and Tiffany hesitates. She bites her lip... then replies, with slightly self depricatory humor in her tones, "Have a feelin' the pretty lil' answer would be the real answer I'd give, but I want what th' real answer is from you... please."
"Heh."
The first comment is brushed off with a single word and a slight unladylike snort. Both hands are placed on the railing and she twists her body around so that she can hop up onto it. Feet dangling, Arika brushes the flyaway strands off of her face and gazes down the pier. For several silent moments, she contemplates giving the 'pretty lil' answer' anyhow, but figures since everything is said and done now, what she has to say isn't going to change anyone's mind.
"Wanted to see wot that lil' cult of ninjas was up to."
Tiffany nods a bit, and while she doesn't leap up onto the railing, she does step forward and lean up against it, resting her chin against the cool metal bar, "Was afraid it was somethin' scarier than that." she replies. Her voice is slightly shakey, and an observant person might have noticed her breath hitching slightly at the word 'cult.' Tiff is tough, but some wounds still ache, "With all the stories I heard bits of on the boat."
She sighs a bit, and shakes her head a little, "My real answer's pretty simple."
"Somethin' scarier? You mean, like keepin' people safe from those crazy ninjas? Like makin' sure they weren't kidnappin' other people? Creatin' massive chi-bombs that blew up their ship? Stockpilin' anti-armor rocket launchers everywhere?" Pausing for dramatic effect, Arika gives her head a little shake and glances over at the other girl. "Nah. None'a that'd 'appen, now would it? I mean, people like that... they wouldn't -ever- put anyone in danger, right? They got'cha off the sinkin' ship after all, didn't they?"
Though her voice is rife with anger, the words are fairly flat. Tired. Took a lot to get people to believe her before, and even when she pretty much had -proof- that the ship was a giant energy-bomb, everyone thought she was paranoid.
Maybe to an extent she was.
"Simple answers are always good. Wot was your reasonin'?"
Tiffany winces a bit, as Arika ticks off the various violations of safety, personal freedom, and Geneva code conventions the ninja commited, "I don't know." she replies, "Like they were holding someone prisoner and forcing you to fight, or something." She almost says that it's something she's seen in countless movies, but then, there was something action-flick-ish about the whole thing, wasn't there?
She kicks out a foot, and sends a small pebble flying under the railing and out into the surf, "My reason. Simple. I like to hit people. I like to show people I can hit people. It's been a while since I tried anything tournament-ish... and so, when I got an invite... I was, like, all into it." Her own voice is... well... it's nowhere near as brash as it usually is, or was during the fight, where she was /grinning/ at Arika, for the joy of brawling itself, "They didn't need anything more'n that to hook me in.
"Weren't they?," Arika counters easily. "At the end, weren't they 'oldin' innocent people 'ostage? Waitin' for the champion of the people to be crowned before evacuating the other 'Agents' and bystanders to safety?" Shrugging in a slightly smug manner, the diva hehs softly and says, "'ell, they even tossed people in the trash compactor and told them to fight or get squished in there. Think that's sane in any way?"
She may just be a wee bit bitter over some of what happened.
"Ah, lucky you. Didn't entice you to join by kidnappin' you, forcin' you to fight and then leavin' you in the woods with money to pay for medical expenses. Just a plain ol' invite." Fingers clench into the railing, causing her knuckles to turn white. "Good reason though. Fightin' is wot they wanted. Sure that's 'ow they 'ooked a lot'a the people that were on board."
There's the sound of a fist impacting the railing, causing it to ring out in an echoey, metallic manner. It's not enough to dent the rail, or even shake it much, but it is noisy. Tiffany frowns grimly at the ocean, her own voice rather tense and terse, but obviously inwardly directed, not an angry response, "Yeah. I'm easy. Point me in a direction, give me someone to hit, and Tiffy doesn't bother to look before she leaps." She shakes her head,"Jeez, I'm sorry, Arika. That sounds weepy and shit. I just remember things getting complicated and ugly before I had a chance to figure out what was going on, and then I was in over my head."
As the fist impacts the railing, the diva jumps a little. Good thing her fingers are clenching it tightly, otherwise she might just have toppled off when she was surprised. "'ey, don't worry 'bout it. Like I said, I'm sure there were quite a few onboard that didn't know the whole of it. 'ell, I'm sure I never got the full story either. 'ad to piece together quite a bit by meself and gather information from a few people on board."
Exhaling a heavy sigh, she presses her lips together tightly and glances out at the ocean over her shoulder. "You really can't worry 'bout any'a that now. You're gonna 'ave to go out and face all that publicity and all. Promote them and wot they did. You're the People's Champion. Face of the Jinchuu, Suiryuu and the Ryouhara."
Tiffany nods a bit, "I suppose... I'm glad it wasn't you who won. Apart from th' fact that I like ta win. It sounds like it'd be too much of a slap to the face. And a ninja-star in the gut. If you were the one needing to be their publicity girl, I mean. Kind of an anti-punk thing to do. Or would you find a way to rage against the Jutsu-Machine?" She plunks her chin against the railing again, and pouts out her lips. She mumbles glumly, kind of forgetting for a moment that you aren't one of her old friends, and you don't really know much about her old.. history,
"Wonder what Roy'll think when he sees my face on a box of Ninja-Os cereal."
"Bloody 'ell! If those ninjas go and make a breakfast cereal..."
Yes, the diva's got to shake her head at that one. Promoting themselves is a very odd thing for a 'traditional' ninja clan to do, or at least, that's how she understands it.
"If I'da won, I'd just go off and tell the world exactly wot 'appened. The good and the bad of it, leavin' nothin' out." Arika -would- say she's got nothing to hide, but... that's a bit more of a lie than she's willing to tell. "A slap in the face? Maybe a lil', but see... I'm tough. I can 'andle stuff like that easy. Actually 'avin' to -train- with the Ryouhara would'a been a wee bit more difficult for me to swallow though." She still owes him a good punch or two. If she ever happens to run into him again.
"Roy, huh? So you really -ain't- like that," she teases (or tries to). At least she's forced a smile on her lips to show she's joking.
Arika's teasing must have worked to lighten Tiffany's mood a bit, because she actually reaches out for a playful swat, "Yeah, I know it's hard ta believe, but I'm not! The cheerleader with a crush on the football star. Who'd buy that story?" crosses her eyes a bit, looking at her own nose, as if something completely alien had landed there and she just now had the opportunity to examine it. She tries not to giggle, but a light snort comes out instead, irrepressible, "Can you honestly imagine me as a trained ninja?!
She puts her hands on her hips, and strikes a pose, chest out.
Then, she pauses, and rethinks it... reaching into her purse to extract the cd case. A few paces back. She drops into a crouch, and tries to put on a mysterious expression, holding the CD case out like a ninja-star about to be thrown, "Tiffany-san, the American-cheerleader-boxer-ninja! Go team Ryouhara! Show Samurai-High what's what!
Though the swat is playful, it's enough to cause the punk princess to wince briefly. She's been through Hell and back the last few days, so her body is taking a smidge longer to heal than it normally would. Still, it didn't hurt as much as a full on wallop would, so she toughs it out. "Y'know wot they say," Arika says in all seriousness, "it's always the ones you least suspect." Whether that's in regards to the cheerleader crushing on the football star or the whole -other- side of things is hard to say.
"Good lord, don't let those blighters see you like that. They'll get ideas and start campaignin'... mark my words." And one hyperactive, bubbly and quite possibly insane ninja is more than enough, thank-you-very-much. Riko's already got the right's to that.
Tiffany stretches slowly, as she stands up again. It's a wonder she's in as good a shape as she currently is... but then, Arika probably doesn't know Tiffany has a talent for chi-healing, unless the deluxe Jinchuu DVD set shows the special battles, like the terrorist attack, or Momo's awry ambush. Still, Tiffany does move a bit more carefully than she normally would. Mayhap a few joints are still feeling the burn.
She chuckles a bit, tucking the CD back away into her purse, "Wanna know what I'm rilly afraid of?" she asks, giving a slight shudder, as of a chilling horror-movie moment.
Actually, out of all the opponents she had to face aboard the Suiryuu, Tiffany was the only one Arika knew practically nothing about. Then again, she didn't know much about Aranha either.
And she's still waiting for her deluxe Jinchuu DVD set to be stapled to her bunny or whatever foolish way the ninja sees fit to send it. It's supposed to be part and parcel of her 'winnings'.
"With punches like you pack, you ain't got nothin' -to- be afraid of, mate."
Tiffany shakes her head, and pushes a twisty lock of her hair back behind her ear. A little shudder is enough to cue that there might be a few things she genuinely is afraid of, but she can't help giving a bit of a proud smile at Arika's compliment, "Yeah... well... you shoulda been awake to hear what I said to that cold-fish..." she screws up her face, trying to get the Japanese syllables to come out right, "Seishomeru..." and failing horribly, "...after the fight!"
She stops herself with a tap of her foot and resists the tangent, at least long enough to say, a little worridly, "What if the Robo-Momos were a test run? What if the ninjas were trying to find the right fighter ta base a real robot fighter offa?"
Ahh, so she's not the only one that's been thinking that, is she? Again, she waits a few moments before actually saying anything. Turning her body around on the railing, she faces out to the open ocean watching as the early morning sun creates brilliant patterns between the waves. Lids close and she inhales deeply before puffing out a hasty breath.
"Worried they might decide to use you as a prototype now that you've become their champion of sorts? Only bit of advice I could offer you there, mate, is to ask them outright. There's no doubt in my mind that those funky wooden constructs were just waitin' for a bit more of an energy boost so they could become real b--" Wait. Momo's female. "Real girls. Kind'a like Pinnochio, y'know? 'cept these'd be somethin' of a ninja robot army."
Tiffany nods, and clenches her hand into a fist, "I'm not sure what worries me more," she notes, "The idea they might try and brain-wash and dry me," and that's where her own knuckles go a bit white, "Or if they want to copy 'n' paste." See? Tiffany can talk tech too.
She moves forward to the railing again and rests her arms on it, pressing her chin on her forearms, "Believe me," she says, "That's gonna be my first question when I get the ninja memo. I'd've asked them already, but you respond faster than them. Damn ninjas.
"Oh 'ave no fear 'bout the brainwashin', mate... Shadaloo they ain't."
She hopes.
Kidnappers, sure. Slightly insane? Definitely. Brainwashers? Well that's more the style of Vega, so far as she's concerned. None of the information she found, or data trails she followed gave any indication that the plans were to brainwash someone into being a less-than-willing robo-mum.
"Only reason I responded quickly at all is 'cause I really ain't been all that far from 'ere. That e-mail would'a come any later, and you'd 'ave 'ad to wait."
Arika did promise her teammate a nice trip to Europe after all, and she's not about to renege on that.
Tiffany nods a bit, and taptaps an index finger against the railing, making a soft ringing noise... nail against metal. She looks a bit better, like she's feeling cleansed. Maybe the girl's said everything she needed to get the... ahem... weight off her chest, so to speak. She hums a bit, "You almost won, you know." her tone more or less in the making conversation place now, "You've got some pretty tough grapples going fer ya."
"Eheheh..."
Maybe Arika had a -bit- of information going into the fight, and well, being a bit of a brawler herself and knowing what works well against -her-, she figured she'd give it the old college try (so to speak) and see if it worked against her opponent.
"Guess I'll be 'avin' to thank Drake for that," she murmurs mostly to herself. After all, without the help of the Stars' leader (and the guy she just happens to be crazy about), she wouldn't have half the ability with grapples as she did during that fight.
"Thanks," she says, raising her voice enough for Tiffany to hear her now. "Been workin' 'ard on those, really. Tryin' to work meself a bit of a better image than just your typical brawler." Surprising that she -would- be classified as a brawler at all, considering how petite she looks for doing that sort of thing. Meatwall, she ain't. "Should maybe be focusin' a bit more on my Dambe though... 'aven't been payin' enough attention to the cord lately. Need to start wearin' it again..."
Ironically, a meat-wall is kind of what Tiffany is. Within her relative level of fighting prowess at least. People look at her and see the softness. They don't realize how much endurance it gives her... or how much muscle it smoothes over. A good long look at the cheerleader by someone who knows their stuff, and they'll tell you she weighs more than she's letting on...
She clucks her tongue at the mention of Dambe, a light coming into her eyes, "Ooo, West African boxing!" she chirps, "Are ya talking about the leg chain I've heard they use?" Start talking about brawling, and she starts sounding like she's talking about cute outfits she saw at the mall!
"Nah," Arika replies, turning back to face the cheerleader. "This right 'ere." Reaching into the pocket that holds the marker she used to scrawl her name on the CD case, she pulls out a small, tightly knotted purple cord that's attached to a black cloth. "Dambe doesn't use gloves like you're used to," she points out as she begins to wrap the cloth around her right hand, securing the knotted cord tightly when she finishes. "Instead it uses this technique to add a lil' more oomph to the punch, y'know?"
Clenching her right hand into a tight fist, she displays how the knots of the cord fall around her knuckles. Air-punching twice, she purposefully loosens the cord and takes hold of the end in her left hand. "Makes a pretty good makeshift weapon in a pinch too."
Tiffany nods raptly and watches Arika winding the corded cloth winds firmly around her knuckles. She hefts her pocketbook lightly, musing, "Seems kinda the opposite of my gloves," she notes, "They're kind of to take some of the oomph out." She inspects one of her hands lightly, "Do a good job of keeping my nails intact, too."
She pauses, and frowns just slightly, as if something's nagging at her, slightly.
Take the oomph out? Well, boxing gloves -are- padded, but they still hurt more than a plain old fist. Reason being, they hit a heck of a lot more surface area when they make contact.
"Yeah," Arika replies, "maybe a lil' opposite, but to each their own." The diva likes the cord, she's just been focusing a lot more on the wrestling aspect of her style, since the whole debut as 'Princess Arika'.
A glance up at the sky alerts her that morning is wearing on, and reminds her that she's got places to be though. Pocketing the cloth and cord, she hops off the railing and dips her head in a brief nod. "I should get goin'. Need to meet with my manager for breakfast, recap everythin' that's 'appened for the band and then..." Deep blue eyes gaze almost longingly toward the beach and she grins softly. Something must have distracted her thoughts. "... then we'll see wot 'appens after that."
Reaching toward the military bag with her right hand, she hefts it up onto her shoulder and offers her left hand out to the cheerleader. "'ey, congrats again, and for your sake I 'ope they ain't plannin' on buildin' a wooden clone army of ya."
Tiffany rubs her cheek softly, as if nursing a long-ago bruise, "On th' other hand, they hit /harder/ 'n' fists when yer the one in front of them." Ah, the happy childhood memories.
When Arika speaks up again, Tiffany jolts and snaps out of her reviere, "Oh, right!" she smniles and waves, "Thanks for comin' out and talking! And for the autograph!" she chirps merrily, as if all of the stress and worries of Jinchuu are long past. She's good at sliding into the moment, Miss Lords is. She adds, "Me too! I'm used ta being an only child! But I'll figure something out!" making a fist and pumping it in the air as if rock-em-sock-em slugging a robot-girl!
Log created on 21:08:23 11/02/2007 by Arika, and last modified on 08:20:49 11/07/2007.