Club Navi

Inferno watched the spectacle with unbidden glee. "Hey, vodka's flamable, right? Right? Oh, let that guy come back in. He ko'd the keeper, I've got a legitimate reason to torch him!" He raised his buster arms and aimed at the door a moment before his head slowly cocked to the side. "Wait... Wait..." He held that pose a moment longer before his hands returned to their normal state and he slammed the bar again. "Damn it! Who the hell calls someone 'Inferno', then makes his special attack not flamey? I mean... C'mon... I could do a charge shot, but big deal. Any fire Navi can launch a ball of fire..."

"Maybe that's why that guy chose the other Navi instead of you..." Azel whispered. The Navi cupped his hands around his mouth as he shouted, "Oy, is someone gonna contact the Net Pol? Or at least a medic? The barkeep's looking pretty out of it. Doesn't look like an EJO... Deletion? Man... way to bust a party. That guy belongs down in the Undernet if he's gonna do nutjob stuff like that."

"Savage! Ram! Savage! Ram!"

The shout was abruptly stopped just outside the door. A brief, single-voiced altercation occurred,
and suddenly there was the distinct clank of metal on metal as the Met bouncer outside was hit out o the way by some kind of weapon. A girl in an orange sports jersey with a mask over the bottom half of her face came storming through the door, casting around furiously, her grip tightened into claws around the handle of an aluminum baseball bat.

"SAVAGE! RAM!"

Making absolutely no attempt to be subtle, she stormed across the club, slammed her baseball bat down on the bar and grabbed both Savage and Ram by an ear each. She tugged viciously, obviously steamed.

"Where the hell did you two go?! YOU LEFT ME AND MAARTEN BEHIND WITH FIFTEEN VIRUSES! YOU LEFT ME BEHIND WITH MAARTEN! DO YOU KNOW WHAT RESULTS COME OF THAT?!"

She looked around darkly, still pulling on the ears of both Ram and Savage, taking in the club.

"And you ran off for some kind of bar! You jerks!"

The girl slamming the bat down onto the bar startled Cyclone, making him pour his mystery drink all over his body. "Greeeeaaat...." He muttered. He looked at the girl and said, "Care to add anything ELSE to my night of annoyance today. I've got two things on my list already, and I'm sure there's more to come." He sighed, and asked the bartender once again for a mystery drink.

English rounded on Cyclone, her eyes aflame with fury, her grip on Ram and Savage's ears tightening. "OH REALLY, PUNK? YOU WANNA GO?!"

"English, leave him alone. You're going to have an aneurysm one of these days from all the yelling."

Raiden had managed to sneak into the club in English's wake, going mostly unnoticed. He slid onto the stool next to Cyclone's, folding his hands between his knees and staring down at the varnished countertop. Then he seemed to think of something, and slid the aluminum bat along the bar, down toward English, Savage and Ram.

"But--" English protested, her rage obviously toned down several notches by Raiden's quiet words. "But he--"

"Sorry," Raiden said to Cyclone, totally ignoring her. "I'll pay for your next one to make up for it."

Cyclone smiled a moment, then said, "Nah, it's okay... I was just kinda being sarcastic. But tonight really hasn't been to great. I hit this building full on, for gods sake. Going at 80 miles per hour. It hurts, trust me."

"God, you losers, pipe down!" MeleeMan bellowed, oblivious to what a loser he looked like himself reinacting the Russian dance in the middle of a floor full of others dancing to disco. "I'm having a hard time hearing the voices of my inner warriors communicate... but I sense that they are telling me... that some light-weight can't handle his drinks!" he laughed, swaggering over to the bar. "Wait... hold on. Now that I think about it, I'm not 21 yet. I can't legally consume a drop of alcohol...", he thought to himself. With a gulp and a slight hint of embarrasment, MeleeMan sat down at a barstool and slumped his broad shoulders, looking depressed. "There's nothing here to suit a warrior such as myself! I'm not a party-pooper, it's this place's fault!" he assured himself with a low frown.

Capuchin let a sweatdrop fall. "HEYHEYHEY! Now's not the time to fight! Come on, its a club. Have fun. Don't bicker! You guys should be partying, dancing."

Cyclone turned to Capuchin and said, "I'd like to dance... but It can be difficult with a propeller on my back." He gestured his large helicopter propeller, and frowned a bit.

Runeknight tensed as he saw the bartender slump over and the strange dragonfly Navi drag him off. He knew that the bartender was merely a Prog designed to dress like a Navi, and that this particular Prog was near indestructible due to the funding of the club. Runeknight wondered about that while he waited for the dragonfly to return from the back room. In his experience, bartenders were nigh immortal.

The dragonfly popped up from behind the counter and began mixing drinks. The knightly Navi would have to watch the strange creature for any more signs of trouble, but a new threat caught his attention. A female Navi had entered the club and she had immediately started yelling at two other patrons. She was a fiery one, slamming her baseball bat onto the bar and spilling another Navi's drink. It looked like she was about to hit the wind Navi when he complained, but another Navi stepped in and diffused the situation.

Runeknight murmured under his breath about the large amount of trouble makers who flock to such gatherings and he settled back down against the wall. If a fight broke out, he was sure that close to the entire club would be involved.

Where is she, it's been three hours Ran tough Edgars mind while all this comotion goes on. He does not even see that there is somehow a new bar tender, but the shouting going on near him grabs his attaction. He turns his head some and sees some lady with a baseball bat shouting at two people. Then, he hears "You guys should be partying, dancing." Edgar sighs, and lays his head on the bar table.

"Hey, HEY, let go of the ear, you #$^*ing psycho." RAM yelled, trying to push English away from him. "Not my fault this guy randomly disappeared and I had to go and try to find him." He jabbed Savage in the side with his free arm, as though it was all his fault. "Besides, it's not like you've had any problems pulverizing Maarty whenever he's tried anything, have you?"

Meanwhile, Pianissimo snuck up behind Spectrumman, having dodged the attack by retreating into the shadows. One more false move...and the dragonfly navi would be on the sharp end of his katana.

Capuchin gave a sigh, These guys are certainly giving me a headache...all they do is complain. They aren't even taking my advice...they just seem to get on eachother's cases....oh well. She then spun around a bit and pulled off her hairband, letting it all hang down. I suppose I can just forget them...I should have some fun for myself.

She pulled off her helmet and went into, Monkey-dancer GMO. It consisted of a creamy shirt top and black skirt with a red sleeveless jacket jacket. Her makeup consisted of bright pink lipstick and upon her head was a small red hat with a long piece of string dangling on it. It would be considered a fez if it wasn't so small. Her feet, now not wearing her boots but now outfitted with black sandals. Around her neck was a tin cup and her tail was outfitted with a glowstick. Her fingernails were painted with teh same creamcolor as she let them pick up the cup. Holding it to the light she saw her reflection and examined her face. "Not bad..." She said to herself, "Now....time for some fun." She outstretched her hand in the air and her pole materialized....except it glowed bright orange! "Wow, even my pole is a giant glowstick! OOOH! This GMO is so cool!!!!"

A new song begins to play and she lets her feet and body move to the flow of the rythym. "Heyhey!" She calls to the people one more time, "You guys should really try and have some fun!"

DNR sees his drinking buddy sighing and generally acting like a sad sack. He looks at him, giving a inviting grin on his face. " Whats the matter boy? Monkey got your tongue? If you need somebody to help ya with something just ask. . . "

Cyclone sighed, and said, "Again, I can't dance. If I could get rid of my ****ing propeller, i could..." He took another sip from his glass. "...that's good. And no, the "monkey doesn't have my tongue". The way I was built can just be a pain sometimes.

(( It should be noted that Cyclone has no alchohal resiatance whatsoever- he has no idea what he is doing. ))

Snarling, English released Ram's ear, leaving it to throb on its own. Instead, she turned her full attention on Savage, whose ear she tweaked so hard that it seemed like she was going to rip it off.

"And why did you just go lollygagging off? Viruses not exciting enough for you? You want me to get on your case, too?"

Raiden was paying absolutely no attention to her. Once conversation entered the realm of the Awesome Squad, he simply lost all interest. As he listened to Cyclone's response, he seemed to straighten up in his seat. A thin, mocking smile crawled across his face as he regarded the propellor blades mounted on Cyclone's back.

"Well, with fins that big, the building would have to dodge you." Raiden slammed his fist down on the countertop suddenly, causing Cyclone's drink to slop dangerously about inside his glass. "BARTENDER! BARTENDER! STRONGEST STUFF YOU'VE GOT! SHAKEN NOT STIRRED AND ALL THAT CRAP!"

Capuchin gives a sigh and moves over to the bar and sits next to cyclone. "It doesn't matter the way you are built. I think you'd have fun. You don't need to touch the ground to dance, fish can dance, dolphin's dance....even birds dance. Get my drift?" She then moves back to the floor and begins to sway around.

Edgar hears " Whats the matter boy? Monkey got your tongue? If you need somebody to help ya with something just ask. . . ". He keeps his head down and goes "I'm 29, someone I was suppose to meet here is three hours late, and a monkey does not have my tongue." Edgar then hears someone asking for the strongest stuff..... Edgar just sighs, as a line of red appears on his face, goes to his glass of vodka, then it seems to carry the glass to Raiden.

"Mmmh . . . I see . . . Hey, girl!" He yelled to the navi at the end asking for a strong drink. " You think your so tough with that drink? How about a drinking match? You and me." He says, Punching the counter.

Raiden caught the glass as it slid down the bar, leaned back in his chair, and was in the process of choking the whole thing valiantly down in one swig when something broke his concentration. He had heard the white-haired Navi talking to some "girl", but it took him several long seconds to realize that the Navi with the scalpel was talking about him.

When he did figure it out, his throat managed to close up, and he ended up coughing most of the drink back up as he lost his balance. Both Raiden and the bar stool went crashing to the floor, and the glass shattered on a couple of feet away. He lay on his back with his legs still sticking up into the air, seemingly stunned. One could almost see the gears in his head at work.

Then, all of a sudden, he was on his feet again. A feral snarl was painted across his face, contorting his silver eyes into frenzied slits. The bar stool was in his hand--well, it wasn't anymore; it was now flying across the club, directly toward the white-haired Navi's head.

The stool come crashing down, heading straight towards the navi. Unfortunately, it stops short of the white haired navi, hitting his drinking buddy on his head. " Whoa,whoa whoa! I didnt mean for you to be hasty! I didnt know you were a guy! I'm sorry dude!" He pleaded to the guy far away, just incase he tried to hit him.