The Dragon's Den

WHO: Benedict and Brianna
WHAT: The two run into each other at the club, flirt mildly, and discuss mispent youths.
WHERE: Club Diablo - West Village - Manhattan
WHEN: June 8


A Tuesday night isn't the busiest of nights in the club, but several regular denizens mill about. There are several people on the dance floor, several at the bar and a few scattered about at various tables. A goth band has taken up a make-shift stage at the end of the dancefloor in front of the DJ booth with a petite woman with two-toned hair fronting it. Her vocals aren't bad and she moves about the stage with a bit of a limp but for some reason it works with the hardcore look. They're just finishing off a song, by the looks of things, so the DJ seems to be ready to pick up the slack. As the song ends, the small singer shuffles off the stage and grabs a cane leaning against a speaker. With that, Brianna finds her way off toward the bar area, waving off a few interested dancers.

This clearly isn't quite Benedict's usual scene, and it no doubt shows. For one thing the work shirt isn't some vintage find worn ironically but a real honest-to-god uniform. Still, the place serves drinks and that's about the most he asks for these days. He hasn't been here too long, but long enough to snag a spot at the bar and get himself a beer. He watches as the group finishes up before turning back to his drink when the finally leave off.

Combat boots carry Brianna over to the bar pretty swiftly as she weaves in and out of the crowd, avoiding 'groupies' or whatever the goth equivalent might be. Approaching the bar, she nods at the bartender and orders, "Blue Rev. Bottle. I don't want it watered down this time, thanks." She then adds, "Put it on my tab." It seems that she, unlike others hovering over their drinks, is a denizen, not a spectator. She then glances down the bar, casually checking out the various people lined up, pausing briefly upon Benedict with some curiosity.

"A woman who knows what she wants," Benedict remarks with a tight smile as he looks up from his drink to offer her a cursory nod in greeting. "You were good up there," he adds with a slight sideways inclination of his head towards the stage. He leaves it at that for the moment, clearly open to further conversation but not about to foist it upon her if she'd rather just get her drink and go.

The nod is returned and Brianna raises the ante with a slanted smile. With a quick glance in the bartender's direction, she notes that he'll be a few moments, so she moves over toward Benedict, replying, "In a place like this, you have to know what you want or you get stuck with the dregs." Coming to stand a conversational distance away, she leans against the bar and offers a gracious, "Thank you. I try." Curiously, she states in a half-question, half-statement, "You don't come here often. I'd recognize you, I'm sure."

"Should I take that as a compliment, insult, or merely observation?" Benedict asks deadpan yet not really serious. "First timer. Didn't realize there was a dress code," he remarks as his gaze flickers around on some of the more elaborate costumes. "You must be quite the regular I'm guessing. Perform here a lot do you?" He turns sideways to face her with one elbow still resting on the bar.

Grinning, Brianna replies easily, "Hmm, could be a compliment or an observation. Depends on your own preferences, I suppose." She then turns to look at the bartender as her bottle of bright blue fluid is set before her. Picking it up, she looks back at the newcomer and nods, adding, "Dress code is hardly enforced and besides, there are guys who spend their paychecks in thrift shops to pull off your look, except they do so badly." A shoulder hitches up. "Yeah, I come here quite often. Though the caterwauling, well, that just started up more recently. Call it a side-project, if you will. I'm taking you don't usually come to places like this, however, so where's your usual hangout?"

"Hm. Compliment then, if you're leaving it up to me," Benedict replies with a considering nod. He eyes her drink as it's handed to her, remarking, "Almost matches your hair." He glances down at his shirt with a wry shrug. "Leave it to the hipsters to spend money looking poor. Much more efficient just to be poor." But at least he does have a job. His attention returns to her. "Oh, I get around. New enough in town not to have a usual spot. And so, the branching out. Never been much of a dancer, but I guess the music's okay. Was better when you were caterwauling though," he adds with a fleeting smile.

His choice seems to please her if her grin is any indication. Taking a sip of her drink, she quietly listens to him for a moment. Lowering the bottle, Brianna replies with a glance at it, "Hm, I swear I don't base my drink choices on the colour of hair dye I use. I'm not that shallow, honest." A wink is offered as she chuckles. "And hey, in this city, almost everyone's poor. Or they're really really rich. It's hard to be somewhere in the middle. But anyway, Club D's not a bad place. But if gothed-out punks writhing on a dancefloor isn't your thing, you might want to consider avoiding the weekends. It's hellish here on those nights." She then blushes just the tiniest bit while she grins, adding, "And thanks. I do try to liven the place up a bit. DJs are okay, but they can get boring."

"A happy coincidence then," Benedict replies easily about her hair and drink matching. "Yeah, guess you're right. Not a friendly place for the middle class. Rent alone will put you in the poorhouse. But I guess that's just the price you pay to be in the middle of everything." There's a slightly ironic bent to that last statement. "I'll keep that in mind though, avoid the weekend. One thing this city's got going for it - not a lack of alternatives. Still, the company definitely accounts for something." He lifts his beer bottle off the surface of the bar, inclining the neck towards her in a shorthand for a toast. "You definitely liven things up. I'm Benedict, by the way. Bennie."

Chuckling a little, Brianna replies, "Ah well, we do what we can, right?" She shrugs a little and agrees with his assessment of the city, "Anyone who claims boredom in this city isn't looking around them, I think." She starts to raise her bottle for another sip but hesitates as she hears his compliment and sees the small toast. She pauses, then mimics the motion of tilting the bottle toward him a bit. "Well, you're too kind. Thank you very much... Bennie. It's good to meet you." She takes a sip of her drink, then sets the bottle down on the bar to hold out her hand for a shake. "I'm Brianna. Most people call me Bri."

"It definitely isn't boring," Benedict agrees. "Expensive, confusing, and overwhelming at times, yes, but never boring." And yet he chose to live here. When she returns his small toast, he flashes a quick smile. "Nice to meet you, Bri. So you native to these parts? Must have been here awhile, I'm guessing, to know your way around this joint so well." He waits to see if his guess is right.

Shaking her head, Brianna replies easily with, "Not native, no. I got transplanted from Canada to Buffalo when I was about ten and then a few years after that, I got landed here for school... and the rest is history, really." Grinning, she adds, "And I've been hanging out here in this joint for a little while at least." She won't admit how long she's been going to the club.

"Someone else who's been around a bit. We went up to Canada on a school trip once," Benedict recalls in passing but quickly shakes it off. That's probably not what he meant by being around, one hopes. "As for this place, I guess when you find your fit you might as well stay put. I just got into the habit of roaming. Of course there's something recommend to it. If I'd stuck with my first watering hole, I wouldn't have met so many interesting people. Case in point." He nods at her.

"Yeah, you're looking at a born and raised Canuck right here, so I guess I'm a bit away from my original home, but that was a long time ago. This is home now," Brianna replies, then checks herself, "well, not /this/. The city. Where in Canada did you end up?" With a grin, she adds, "You have a point there, honestly. I stay here mostly because, well, I like the music, the crowd isn't bad and the pay's okay enough... and now the company, yes, is pretty good too." Nodding back at him, she adds, "So, colour myself lucky that one of the pair of us travels a little."

"Be it ever so humble," Benedict remarks with a slight smirk, regarding the idea of making the club her home. "Wound up in Toronto for a few days. Think we went through Buffalo, come to think of it. But that was a long time ago. I was just a dumb kid back then." His grin grows some as she considers herself lucky and he nods his head a little in acknowledgment of the compliment. "Nothing wrong with staying put. Otherwise, you might not have been here for me to run into."

His first remark causes her to chuckle and glance away momentarily. "Such as it is," comes her wry comment. Brianna's attention is regained easily by the mention of Toronto. "That's my hometown, actually. Toronto. Sometimes I miss it, but like I said, I was ten when we came over to the red, white and blue side, so I don't remember all that much." She then grins broadly, showing her pearly whites a little. "Well, there's some wisdom in that, I'll say." She holds up her bottle again, then takes another sip.

"Question is, do you still say aboot?" Bennie teases, expecting fully to get hit for that one. "Really though, from what I can remember, it seemed a decent enough place. Gotta admit, we didn't really pay that much attention to all the education and cultural stuff we were supposed to be soaking up." He shrugs his shoulders. Such is the very nature of a field trip. He follows suit with another swig of his own drink, finishing it off. "Can I get you another while I'm at it?" he offers.

Perhaps because she only just met him, Brianna only swats him ever so lightly in the shoulder, making a bit of a face. "No. I never said that. But I do have a bad habit of saying 'eh' apparently, according to some friends." Though she hasn't said it once since they started talking. Shrugging, she adds, "At least you went to Toronto and not Ottawa. Much more interesting." As he makes his offer, she looks pleasantly surprised and gives a little bit of a look down at her own bottle which only has a few mouthfuls left. Offering a nod, she replies, "That'd be very kind of you, and, frankly, I'm not planning on going anywhere just yet, so..." She might as well?

"Ah yeah, the world-famous eh," Benedict replies with a sage nod, utterly undeterred by the swat. "Is it? Glad the teacher picked that one then. Honestly, I don't even remember what the point of the trip was supposed to be. I remember having to get dressed up a few times and sitting through really boring shows about stuff. But we also got to see the Yankees play the Jays, so that made it all worthwhile." For a moment, his usually stoic face becomes much more animated, like he still is that kid, so excited to go see the big names in baseball. It doesn't last long though. "Okay. One ... blue thing, coming right up." He makes a gesture to the bartender, indicating two refills over here.

Smirking, Brianna at least doesn't swat him again, but replies, "I do try to curb it." She then nods regarding his class' choice in cities. "Well, in Ottawa, you would have walked for hours around stuffy old parliament buildings. Better to go watch boring shows and a ballgame or two," she reassures him with another nod. She watches the interplay on his face as he mentions the game, but doesn't question him, perhaps picking up on the fact that it might be something he's even unaware of. All things in due time, perhaps. She then offers, "Blue coloured Rev. It's pretty good. Couldn't get it in the U.S. for a bit. Hyper-caffeinated stuff. But thanks. So.." She pauses, considering a moment before she grins at him, "You spend your time buying drinks for the girls?" She's obviously teasing at this point.

"Nothing wrong with a well-placed eh, if you ask me," Benedict assures her. "I see. We get enough boring architecture trips staying close to home, so I'm glad they decided to mix it up a bit. Then again, we probably would have spent our time the same way, mostly looking to get into trouble." He does seem oblivious to any changes in demeanor. At her teasing question he offers a slight smirk. "I spend my time buying drinks for -me-. But now and then, I'm willing to make an exception." As the drinks are finally brought over, he quickly handles paying for them and then offers her violently blue drink to her. "Really, I work and I wander and I kill time in places like- Well, not quite like this, but you get the idea. Haven't been here long enough to find anything better to do. I'm open to suggestions though."

Grinning a little, Brianna replies, "Getting into trouble? That's something I used to do... drove most of my teachers batty. I was always getting into trouble." Yeah, she might look like the type who might have been a bit of a handful. She quickly finishes off her first bottle and finally reaches for the second, thanking him swiftly for it. This is raised toward him again before she takes another mouthful. Then, she remarks, "Hm, well, I suppose yet again I should consider myself lucky if I'm the exception of the evening. Cheers to that." Nodding a little, she asks, "Well, if there's anything I can do to liven things up a little, just holler." As though realizing that sounds a wee bit stronger than she intends, she inserts the qualifier of, "Even if it's just making suggestions of places to hang out. in"

"To getting in trouble then," Benedict smirks as he returns the toasting gesture. "Always thought it kept the teachers young, keeping them on their toes like that." He starts in on his second beer now. "So I take it you're more the type that prefers to be the exception than the rule," he observes. "Keeps things interesting, I'm sure." At her initial offer, his eyebrows do inch upwards slightly but he gives an understanding nod at her clarification. "If you know of any must-see watering holes or restaurants around here, I'm always looking for new stomping ground. Of course, I might just stomp back this way again one day."

There's a smirk still playing on her lips as he toasts the act of getting into trouble. "There's some logic in that, though I doubt the teachers would agree with us," Brianna adds before taking another swig from her bottle. That pierced eyebrow of hers arches upward as she considers his observation. "Hmm, yes, I suppose you're right about that. I'd rather be the exception than the rule, the one that stands out. Remember Sesame Street with that song about how one of these things just isn't like the others? That's where I stand, usually, and I'm proud of that, frankly." She catches the eyebrows raising on Bennie, considering whether or not to respond to it. Instead, she moves along and replies, "Lee's Dim Sum in Chinatown is great if you like Chinese food. Watering holes, I prefer this place. But you know, if you stomp back here, you'd certainly be a welcomed sight."

"Guess it's just as well we never thought to ask them," Benedict replies a little mischievously. "What would you say is the worst thing you ever did to a teacher?" he asks with idle curiosity. He then considers her point about standing out, giving her a more appraising once over. "Yeah, I'd believe that. You definitely stand out. Caught my eye, anyway," he admits with a grin which is smoothly transitioned into a swig of his drink. "Lee's Dim Sum. I'll keep that one in mind. Don't eat out that often but next time I do..."

"The worst thing I've done to a teacher? Oh gods, you didn't just ask me that, did you?" Brianna replies, laughing fully. "Oh, man. Let me think," she says, stalling a little with a swig from her drink. "Hm. Well, there was the time we glued Miss Hennesy's underwear together... to the flagpole," she admits. "Just little kid's stuff when playing pranks, but they'd get so mad and we'd get into /so/ much trouble," she adds. "Other stuff we did... well, drinking and smoking underaged, sneaking out for parties after dark... that sort of thing, you know? How about you?" As he agrees with her about standing out in a crowd and then compliments her, she smiles and glances at her drink momentarily. "Well, nice to know someone noticed." She leaves off the topic of Lee's for now.

"The worst? Hm. Off the top of my head..." Benedict really should have expected this to turn back onto himself. "My buddy, he was good in autoshop, so you know that thing in the movies, where they take someone's car apart and put it back together inside? We tried that once with the VP's car. Didn't -quite- work. Turns out it's a lot harder to put one of those back together than to take it apart." He pulls a face and washes it down with another swig of beer. "Drinking, smoking, wanton destruction of public property. Stupid kid shit. Still, those were the good old days. Getting into honest trouble, so to speak. Before consequences became real." He shrugs his shoulders, trying not to turn the lighthearted conversation more serious. "Oh, someone noticed," is all he comments to her last.

Laughing a bit harder, Brianna replies, "Oh no! You guys didn't! Hah, that's great!" She's obviously getting a bit of a kick out of this. "Did you guys get caught?" She just /has/ to know, apparently. A smirk crawls across her lips. "Sounds like you and I have some similarities as far as our wanton trouble we used to cause," she points out in an amused tone. Her grin slants a bit as he confirms she was noticed. Tucking back some blue and black locks behind an ear, she replies, "Good to be noticed."

"And how," Benedict replies with a chuckle, wincing a bit as he recalls that particular reaction. "Red handed you might say. Wound up having to mow lawns the whole summer to pay for the repairs. Not to mention all the detention we got while school was still in session." He shrugs his shoulders, the sting of the punishment long gone by now. "Of course, these days I've at least learned to keep my head down if not my nose entirely clean." He just returns the crooked grin with a nod and one of his own before innocently sipping his drink.

Brianna laughs a bit more, adding, "Oh man, that's bad. But hey, at least you earned the punishment, right? I think the worst punishment I got was having to do a teacher's laundry for a month." She then pauses, adding a brief explanation, "I went to a private school." Smirking, she comments, "Well, I suppose we have to behave as we get older, eh? Ah well. Such is life." She then knocks back a bit more of her drink, getting close to the bottom of this second bottle.

"Ah," Benedict replies with an understanding nod. "Private school girl. So the things they say -are- true," he teases with a roguish grin. "Gluing the underwear makes more sense now. Was wondering how you got ahold of it but thought it better not to ask." He picks up a bottlecap that's been left on the bar, fiddling with it absently. "Such is life," he agrees with a sigh. "Consequences get a lot more real when you hit a certain age. Betting if I took apart someone's car now I'd be facing a lot more than a lost summer of yard work."

Leaning back against the bar with her back and elbows against it, Brianna glances sideways at Benedict and smirks. "Hmm... perhaps. Depends on what rumours you listen to," she teases him back, pursing her lips a little against that smirk. She laughs a little and adds, "Well, I could have just been truly industrious... but no, it was the whole private school scenario." She idly watches him toying with the bottlecap, then glances away with a chuckle. "Yeah, I suspect if you were doing yard work, it'd be next to guys called Bubba."

"I usually only listen to the rumors I hope are true," Benedict replies without missing a beat. "Were kilts involved in any way?" he just has to ask, though it's more joking than lecherous. "I wouldn't put it past you to be that industrious but somehow getting the underwear off your teacher, that'd take some work. And a great deal of bravery, if they were anything like our teachers. Then again, ours were mostly nuns and I'm soundly of the believe that they are born in those habits and nothing else is involved." He flicks the bottlecap between his fingers rolling it deftly over the backs of them, before just quietly slipping it into his pocket. "Yeah, I'd really rather avoid that whole scenario. Can't imagine me and Bubba would get on too well."

Smirking, Brianna replies, "Kilts? No. Mine wasn't a private /Catholic/ school. Strictly non-Catholic here. Though, that never stopped me from wearing one." Now who's being mischievous? "So, no nuns with us, but some pretty strict teachers with eyes in the back of their heads." A figure of speech, right? That bottle cap seems fascinating for the time being as she focuses upon its movement until he finally pockets it. Glancing back up at his face, she smirks and adds, "No, I can't imagine you would. So... no taking apart anything bigger than a lawn mower, okay?"

Again his eyebrows twitch upwards slightly at the sound of that. "Well, that made my night," Benedict comments with a slow grin. He can't help it if he's an honest boy. "Yeah, you do -not- want to cross a nun. Didn't stop us, but they've got the power of God on their side so you know you're going to pay for it sooner or later." He isn't too worried though. He doesn't even really notice what he's doing with the bottlecap, just continuing the conversation without pause. "Now, is that a riding lawn mower or one of those ones you push?"

Now really, that makes her quite curious and amused at the same time. "So, kilts, eh?" Grinning devilishly at him, she snaps her fingers and adds, "I knew I should have wore the kilt tonight." Nevermind that she might look a little odd clomping around with a kilt and cane; but when has that ever stopped her? "Remind me never to mess with nuns at some point then... especially when I'm just about to do so," she asks of him wryly; as though it happens regularly. She doesn't say a word about the bottlecap, perhaps figuring it's not her business for the time being anyway. Instead, she chuckles, contemplating the mower issue. "A small riding one you might actually get away with..."

"Must be the Catholic schoolboy in me," Benedict replies with a shrug and a brief yet devilish grin. "Sadly, our school nipped the whole thing in the bud by having the girls wear these really horrible jumpers. Such a waste." He heaves a sigh for all the lost opportunities and puts a hand over his heart as though it pains him. "You plan on messing with them often? We could always tie a bit of string around your finger in case you forget and you're on your own." He finishes off his beer with another long swig and then eyes the bottle as thought contemplating another one. "If I come across any small riding lawn mowers in this city, I will be keeping that in mind. Now, do we do the sensible thing and leave it at two or throw caution to the wind?" he asks, glancing over at her.

That is a shame, sadly," Brianna replies almost sympathetically, though her grin kills it a bit. She continues to grin a bit as she watches the little 'pained' act. Shaking her head, she adds, "Oh no, I don't think I want to mess with someone as scary as nuns. Really, I swear that they'd be all we'd need to beat terrorism. Send a few of them out... problem solved." Although, she does seem horribly amused by the concept of tying some string up on her finger. Glancing down at her bottle with just a few mouthfuls left, she considers his offer even as she chuckles about the lawn mower. "Ah, I'd like to stay but this is actually about the fourth or fifth of the night, since I needed a bit of good old fashioned bottled courage to get up there tonight. First time in a long time, you see. So I'm thinking my liver's probably going to stage a revolt if I try another drink. Perhaps... another night if you decide to stomp on by again?"

"A crying shame," Benedict agrees sagely, tsking under his breath as he slowly nods his head. But the act is not maintained for long. "You might be onto something there. You get rapped over the knuckles with a rule a few times and you really learn to at least get sneakier about what you're doing. Car disassembly aside, anyway." He's a touch disappointed when she turns down his offer for another but he can't really argue with her logic. "Fair enough. My liver gave up trying to talk any sense into me a long time ago. But yeah, I think I can safely say I've found reason to swing back around this way again," he comments with a small smile.

Offering him a little bit of that devilish grin again, Brianna replies, "Fear not... it's not for a lack of interest, but simply self-preservation instincts kicking in. Nothing more, I assure you." She seems rather pleased by his suggestion that he has a reason to come back by the club, though it's not usually his scene. As such, she replies, "Well, then, I look forward to the next time you pop your head in through the door. There will be plenty more caterwauling to be witnessed and perhaps some good company." With that, she knocks back the rest of her drink and calls out to the bartender, "Call a cab, please? Thanks!" Turning her attentions back to Benedict, she finally adds, "It was a pleasure to meet you, Bennie. And I do really hope our paths cross again. I had an interesting time."

"Good to know I didn't fail to hold your interest then," Benedict replies with a subdued smirk. He pushes aside his empty bottle, waving off any offer from the barkeep for another one. "I look forward to caterwauling and company both. But maybe one a little more than the other." He offers a hand to shake then. He has no plan of pulling the Smooth Guy thing and trying to kiss hers, but just a sincere handshake, if accompanied with a slightly suggestive grin. "The pleasure is all mine. I'm sure our paths will cross. Sooner, I hope, than later."

The handshake is accepted as she returns his grin with a friendly smile of her own. "Not at all. You seem very interesting. I'll see you around, Bennie," Brianna reassures him, apparently pleased by the prospect of maybe seeing him again and potentially soonish. Withdrawing her hand, she then steps away from the bar a bit, offers a finger-wave and then heads out apparently in search of her taxi.