Description: Aranha's at the Duck Pond having his last hurrah before he does something bat shit insane, and self-destructive. However two people seek him out to approach him with a proposal of joining a new fighting federation. Will the Dancing Spider accept or decline.
When one builds a fed', one needs fighters. You know, the regulars. The people that can be expected to put on a good show. Everyone from over-achievers to underdogs, every fed's gotta have'em. So when Arika finally decided to go ahead and give the idea a try, Drake came up with a small list of people he thought might be good choices based on a number of reasons.
Aranha, the 'Dancing Spider', was one of them.
Drake's in favor of personal visits and such. Builds confidence, makes for good relations. Better that than send some cordial letter. 'Sides, it'll give him a chance to check up on his house while he's here, and maybe see a couple others. But anyway, tracking down Aranha hasn't been terribly easy. He's checked everywhere he can think of so far - alleyways, streets, rooftops... you know, where Aranhas can supposedly be found the most. But unfortunately, he's come up dry.
So now on to the more "logical" locales.
Drake enters the Duck Pond, thumbs hooked at the pockets of his pants, surveying the crowd as best he can. And that's not really saying a lot, considering how the crowd is constantly in motion, thrashing about, and displayed in a splash of colors that only a malfunctioning Nintendo could normally provide. Drake is however undeterred. He begins moving through the ocean of people, specifically to check the booths and seating arrangements on the fringe.
A list of people. Peh. Arika skimmed the list and hey, sure. Maybe she's being super elitist or something, but she's being fussy as to who is going to be part of the fed. Mainly because she doesn't want it turning into another 'fight venue' that turns out to be more like Neo League or SNF. The reasoning? Because fighting should be enjoyable, not super stressing over who's the highest ranked fighter or who has more points.
Since they've been roving around as a team lately, Arika is of course, here. Meeting someone in person again -- hopefully without having to pay oodles of money for information this time. She's nowhere near broke or poor, but she'd like to put whatever money she does happen to have extra into the club back home so that she can build up its reputation. She is not, however, following Drake.
While he's gone into the throng of people pretending to dance, she's skirted off to the side toward the bar. They'll get a better scope of the Duck Pond that way.
Aranha's actually not in the booths. No, if you're gonna find Aranha it's gonna be on the dance floor where he's trying to get in where he fits in. True to his nickname, the spider is dancing with a couple of women. Aranha wasn't stupid. The only reason the women were around was because of those previously mentioned fight circuits. That isn't to say he wouldn't enjoy the ride for all it's worth. He just ain't looking for the /one./
Even still Aranha is keeping vigilant watching the doors and the bar. Even if he's out to have fun that doesn't mean he's less paranoid. He has a long list of enemies and he wants to be ready to react. At the highest dance floor level, he manages to see Drake and Arika in separate areas but he makes no move to get either person's attention. As far as Aranha knew, Drake didn't have a reason to seek him out. Arika on the other hand does have a few reasons but she'll have to approach him if it's about /those/ reasons.
Drake is not pretending to dance! There is dance, and there is no dance. There is no in between! It's like how it was put by Yoda, or Kermit, or whoever. But Drake's search turns up very little. By the time he's meandered to the last set of booths on the first floor, he's frowning. One floor down, two more to go. Joy. He glances over his shoulder for Arika, but lo and behold, she's gone; hamburgled by the beast of music, for sure. It's fine, though. He'll snatch her back from its evil clutches as soon as he finds who they're looking for.
Yeah, leave it to Drake to not look at the bar.
Up to the second floor the Star shoots, where he proceeds to search along the booths and seats. A few stray glances are shot over to the dancing area now, though. The idea of, hey, if Aranha's come here, it just might be to dance has occured to him. But for now, Aranha is safely out of sight.
Arika has not been burgled by the evil monster of dance! She's busy chatting to the bartender, asking if he's happened to have seen someone of Aranha's description. Luckily for her, he points right to the dance floor that she was attempting to avoid.
Sigh.
Taking a deep breath, she scans over by the booths for Drake and spots him moving out to the vile floor where the bodies are bumping and hopping and trying to make some semblance of decent dance moves.
"Drake! 'ey! 'ey, Drake!"
She's trying to flag him down as she makes her way toward him.
All the signs are there... There's Drake looking around like he's lost, there's Arika shooting the breeze with mixologist who in turn points to the dance floor... in particular him. It appears both were looking for someone and based on the fact it looks as though Arika is calling out to Drake right after the bartender pointed Aranha out, that particular somebody is him.
An eyebrow is raised slightly before he turns to the women he's dancing with, "I'm sorry. I'm gonna have to roll. Give me your digits and if things aren't busy, I'll holla." After the numbers are given, he pockets them and begins to move to a lower level dance floor.
The fate of those particular numbers? They are going straight to the groupie drawer.
If it wasn't for the fact that Aranha recognized Drake and Arika, Aranha probably would've made an exit off the dance floor that would be significantly more chaotic.
As things stand though, Aranha is slowly making his way to the other two fighters. And completely failing to make his approach look as cool as it does on music videos. It's just too damn crowded.
'Drake! Drake!' Ha-ha, funny girl. You go to a place like the Duck Pond, and everyone thinks they're a comedian.
Oh wait, that's Arika yelling to him.
Drake whirls around and spies the blonde, lifting a hand to wave her over quickly. But he then turns to continue his search. And conveniently enough, when he turns back around to resume his search, here comes Aranha through the flailing sea of bodies. Drake holds still, since it seems he's right in his path.
"Got a minute?," Drake asks once the darker male has reached him, voice elevated just enough to be heard over the outrageously loud music.
Hey now! It's not her fault that he's named after a male mallard! Seriously! Arika is just calling his name, trying to get his attention. When he waves, she rushes over toward him, literally pushing through the crowd toward him.
And he's whirling around away from her? Pfft! Oh, wait. He's spied Aranha in the sea of bodies. So, she continues on toward them both.
"'ey," she calls out, yelling over the noise of the crowd. "Aranha! You got a mi-- oh 'e's already asked you. Roight..."
"A minute? Yeah."
Aranha looks at both the diva and the model and looks around before looking right at the other two again. He can't for the life him, figure out why both would want to speak with him. Do they both want to hire him for his information gathering services. Does Drake even know about the information he gathered on behalf of Arika.
Without the knowledge of how much Drake knew he keeps his question non-specific if not a bit tongue in cheek. It's completely written the tone of voice he uses. An overly polite and helpful voice with a touch of silly. "How may I help you?" He's obviously trying to get a laugh. Whether he's successful is another matter altogether.
He merits a grin, at least. Drake nods towards the steps leading back to the lower level. "We'd just like to have a chat with you about a possible venture. I dunno, you could possibly call it recreation. Depends on how you look at things. Either way you wanna see it, it's a 'possibility'."
Drake turns again, back to Aranha this time to shoot Arika a wink. And he then starts for the steps back down to the first level. Specifically to find a quieter, more out of the way booth.
A look is given to the two males. One to Drake, somewhat bright and smiley despite the fact that they're on a crowded dance floor. She turns to Aranha and simply motions for him to follow the duo to a nearby booth. Easier to speak there, she figures. Not as loud and less need for yelling and screaming.
"C'mon then. Let's 'ave a wee sit down and talk nice, roight? Drinks'll be on me while we chat." She's not offering loads of cash, but she is offering free drinks.
Aranha for his part follows both Arika and Drake to the booth without a word, glancing about the club as he dodges people dancing and spilled drinks. When they get to the booth, Aranha makes himself comfortable as he waits for the other two to sit.
"Free drinks, huh? You're too kind." It's probably a good thing Aranha is relatively low maintainance. Aranha isn't going for alcohol. Last thing he needs is for someone to sneak up on him while he's drunk. If anything, he's too paranoid that if he's caught at anywhere less than his best he'll pay for it.
Aranha doesn't stay quiet for long. Infact the Dancing Spider wants to cut directly to the chase. "I'm all ears. What is this 'opportunity' you speak of?"
Drake slides into the booth opposite of Aranha, and his gloved hands link together atop the table. He shoots a glance across to Arika, giving her a curious look. To his knowledge, neither of them are of the actual drinking age. So he carefully makes no requests. He can't remember what the legal age is in Japan, anyway.
So instead of all that, he humors Aranha's question with a straight up answer. "Arika Fade here just opened up her nightclub, Lost Society." Drake then pauses, glancing over towards the girl to see if she wants to actually begin filling in the details. Hell, she runs it.
Oh, Arika's not actually -drinking- anything. Heaven forbid, she have a sip of wine and be plastered all over the tabloids by morning. She flags down a waitress and orders three sodas and a glass of water. Sodas will have to do, but they're still her treat!
"That's roight. Just opened me club 'cross the ocean." Fidgeting, she slips into the booth beside Drake and then gives him an awkward look. She's not great with this kind've thing. "Er... thinkin' 'bout startin' a foightin' federation." Pause. "Wrestlin' federation of sorts, y'know?"
Aranha raises an eyebrow but for every answer that one response brings another bunch of questions pop up. Aranha takes a few moments to let the answer sink in before he poses his own questions.
He rests his arm, on the table and then his chin on his hand in thought. "Considering the fact that you mentioned the Lost Society, it would probably be safe to assume that this fighters federation will be operating out of there at first. Are there any plans to expand it beyond the club?" Aranha pauses before he poses his next question. "Another thing I'm curious about is whether or not there was a specific reason you came to me?"
Drake lifts a hand slightly, fingers wiggling in indication. "You can blame that one on me, bro. What good's a professional wrestling federation without some members, right? I gave Arika a list of some people I thought might work, and you made the cut." He pauses a moment as he inclines his head, giving Aranha a more direct look. "I recalled you being pretty good in the ring and out. You've got some style, so I thought you'd be a good pick."
And the sodas are delivered to the table, along with the glass of water. The waitress raises a brow at the fact that she's brought four drinks, and there's only three people, but she's paid and tipped well so she doesn't really question it.
Voice still raised over the loud music, Arika smirks. "Roight. It'll be outta the club for now. Kind've need to get the fed goin' before we think 'bout expanding it to something larger, y'know? Wouldn't make sense to 'ave it all 'uge and stuff before we've got more than three or four people."
Poking at her glass of soda with the two straws that are in it, she shoots a wry little smirk to Aranha. "Wot 'e said. You made the cut." (And in Arika terms? 'I don't hate you'.)
"I see..." The darker skinned of the three reaches out for his own soda and lays the straw on a napkin. Even if the whole thing is private there might be someone passing by on the way to their own booth and he has an image to maintain. He isn't gonna be seen using a straw if he can help it. He drinks his soda straight from the glass.
Aranha puts the glass back down before he continues. "Makes sense. Take things one step at a time. How about the other roster of fighters. May I ask who else is on the list?"
Drake is image-conscious, to be sure. But apparently he's still kid enough to use a straw. Hey, at least it's not a crazy-straw, right? ..Right? Well, either way, he takes his soda and draws a drag from its contents. At the question, he lets his amethyst gaze slide over to Arika briefly, then back to Aranha. "Ah.. not very many. The Princess here is picky." Real picky. He shoots his elbow over to her gently, nudging at her ribs.
"'ey now! Oi've got me reasons for bein' picky. Oi mean, 'avin' someone that Oi clash with on a personal level bein' in me fed just ain't gonna work for me, roight?" Arika squeaks a portion of this since her ribs are being jabbed with an elbow. A playful glare is shot toward Drake, and she frowns. "Oi wouldn't mind 'avin' a few foight in me club, but Oi mean, Oi ain't gonna invite someone like Naerose. She works with them Blackjack wankers."
Shoulders shrug and she shakes her head. "We've only just begun things, Aranha. Only started to talk to people that moight work. 'course there's Drake and meself. Likely Eva when she becomes unbusy enough to join in... possibly 'urricane 'ime..." Shrug, shrug!
Aranha's fairly relaxed as he listens to the back and forth between Drake and Arika. Princess. Aranha makes a note to remember that particular nickname for later but he makes no comment. When Naerose and Blackjack is mentioned though, Aranha's entire demeanor changes. It's like a dark cloud hangs above him.
The awkward silence hangs there for awhile before he opens his mouth. "I'd actually like to fight Eva. Our match in the Jinchuu tournament wasn't really a match." Says the man who took the win in that set up.
"I've not really gotten to talk to Eva for... God.. forever." And when Drake mentions that, his own little gloomy cloud seems to emerge. Shoulders slouch, expression falls, and his eyes drift to the soda in front of him. The troubles of being a team leader. Well, one who actually cares about his teammates beyond just being a capable body, anyway.
Good work, Princess! You've managed to make both men at your table gloomy and dark cloudy. Arika? She just shrugs. Again.
"Oi ain't seen'er since well before Christmas. Actually, Oi ain't seen'er much since after the tournament..." Maybe she should look into it, but where to start? Contacting the other girl's parents? "Oi'll try contactin'er again soon." She says nothing else, just continues to stir the straws in the soda for a bit.
"We ain't askin' you to do it for free, y'know."
"Well needless to say, I'm interested." Aranha finishes off the soda he had been drinking before rising from his seat. Giving both Arika and Drake a pair of quick nods he begins to walk away stopping and turning before adding. "I'm sure we can iron out the financial details later on. If there's still anything left of me."
After making that part cryptic but all morbid addition he heads out the door. He has some business of his own to take care of. And he should survive, right? He has a knack for surviving things he has no right to be surviving.
Drake nods at Aranha, coming out of his mild stupor with a smile. "Excellent. Remember - Lost Society, in London," he says. And then Aranha is heading on out the door with cryptics concerning survival. Hey, right up his alley. Drake turns his attention over to Arika, lifting an arm to settle along her shoulders. "I'm pretty sure he'll do fine." Pause. "..Crap. We didn't mention the rule against chi'n stuff. Might'a been important to add."
"Oi..." Oh. Right. The rule against chi. Well he took off before they could actually say anything! "Well we'll just tell 'im when 'e shows up, roight?" Shrug. "And Oi think 'e's off to see wot 'e can do 'bout Blackjack. 'e's been 'avin' issues with'em." Not like she -knows- this, of course. She's just making an observation based on what he told her previously.
Log created on 13:09:31 03/21/2008 by Aranha, and last modified on 11:22:33 03/22/2008.