Disclaimer – I do not own any of Team Ninja's Characters or anything else related to Dead or Alive. Also, I do not own any other various Fighting Game Characters that magically appear in this work of fiction.
A/N : Too much MTV is evident here...
Jann Lee diligently patrols the pride of his life, his massive Night Club that he built himself with free Chinese laborers' blood, sweat, and tears. 'Unleash Your Dragon' stands in the center of the busiest district of southern Hong Kong. The Club represents freedom for all the big names of the universe's fighting tournaments, a place to relax, drink, and hook up with loose women.
Jann dodges across the crowded dance floor, checking out the curvaceous landscapes with his patented crooked grin. Big ass there, long legs there, muscular abs over there, defined calves right here. Jann Lee licks his lips hungrily as he moves across the red and green carpet. It's not a dance floor, it's a candy store, and he's a little kid who just got allowance.
Jann stops at the long bar and rests his elbow down next to a wasted Frenchman's drink. His terrible singing and horrendous blonde, feathered hair-do is what brought Jann Lee over. It's just sad seeing so much delicious alcohol being wasted, more dripping upon the floor than into the man's pretty mouth.
"You've had too much, Raph." Jann Lee whispers discreetly, not trying to embarrass the fellow, but the Frenchman looks over with a wide grin, his head swaying from side to side,
"I'm not leaving till you say you'll go out with me!" Raphael yells, prodding Jann Lee in his muscular chest, producing a very annoyed scowl,
"I told you already, Raph, I'll never date a French guy. You're a bunch of teases." Jann takes Raphael's drink away and as he flails to recover it, Raphael falls from his golden, dragon carved stool. Jann Lee steps backwards with a disappointed head shake and places the drink back down on the bar.
"You leave your drink around me, you better believe it gonna get drunk up." A woman off to the side warns and Jann turns around and eyes her wide hips suspiciously. Those powerful, muscular legs could crush a man in one squeeze.
"It's a Zema, Vanessa, see if I care." Jann steps over the slobbering drunk and continues his way down the bar, ensuring that everything else in his establishment is legal and safe.
He clicks his tongue reproachfully at seeing a young blue helmet wearing boy trying to hook up with an oddly dressed Asian girl, probably some sort of Wind Priestess. They are both younger than eighteen, and although they're only taking shots of Koo-Laid, there are many adult themed acts occurring all over the place that they shouldn't be exposed to. Like the fireball bondage going on in the far corner or the vibrating DreamCast controller orgy upstairs.
Jann opens his mouth to warn them, but he decides to listen amused to the boy's lame attempts at closing the deal. He especially enjoys watching little boys trying to play in men's worlds, like Lil Ruff Ruff or that brown, Chris boy. Jann leans back and watches as Picky takes a knee and begins singing,
"We would run aw-ay, making love all-day, have us a ba-bay, get you some bigger tay-tays. If I had one wi--" Red liquid stains Picky's face as the girl leaps off of the stool insulted and rushes away, tears in her eyes. Picky stands up with a frown, looking at Jann Lee, surprisingly with a confused look on his face,
"I figured she'd want to fit in with all the other girls! Talim's the only one without Double D's!"
Jann Lee shrugs, thinking of giving the poor skateboarder some advice, but a a glimpse of a fellow Soul Shard searching young lady catches his eye on the dance floor. He'd let Seung-Mina touch his Soul Calibur any day of the week. Except for Tuesday, because those are his hair appointments and actually Friday is when he gets his facial from Tammy, so that won't work either, but the other three or four days will work.
"Well, well, well." Jann Lee stops at Mina's side as she continues to move that hump of hers, but a man's smooth hand begins to caress the greatness, blocking Jann's vision slightly. He attempts to move around for a better glimpse and notices Maxi with what he hopes are his nunchaku tucked away in his pants.
"Bounce out, loser, she's taken," Maxi says, brushing his hands through his silky black hair, "And she's cheating on Wangy with me, so therefore, the waiting list is getting pretty long." Jann crosses over, pushing Mina out of the way to get a better look at his mirror-like adversary,
"You wanna start something with the most notorious bouncer in China, butt-pirate?"
Maxi's mouth widens in disbelief and he crosses his arms after fixing the silk scarf around his neck,
"I don't fight the fashionably challenged. Where'd you get those dragon pants, Jann?"
"Definitely not the same place you got those slippers, the discount thrift store!" Jann answers back and Mina steps forwards, still shaking bouncy parts wildly,
"Don't fight over me, boy--"
"Shut up!" Both men yell at the same time, pushing Mina to the floor and she yells out for help as dancers trample her.
"Who did those eyebrows, Jann, Bayman's stylist?" Maxi slams and Jann touches his beautifully curved eyebrows in personal affront,
"You've taken it too far!" He begins to charge, but a call comes from his left ear piece interrupts him.
Jann Lee halts in mid punch as he hears a disturbance call coming from the private corner of the Club. He spins around to see four men bullying his favorite hired women and Jann's personal servant of a waiter who presses his pants just right. Jann takes his ear piece out and scowls at Maxi,
"This isn't over."
He turns around and rushes towards the private table, red oak, and beautifully crafted. Jann was only going to warn the men about damaging the women's faces, but the leader finds it funny to grind his cigarette butt into the surface. Jann Lee's inner rage comes forth and he attains the glow, the yellow energy, pretty much shoddy special affects, surrounds his entire being as he leaps into action.
Jann grabs the white suited leader's wrist, causing him to drop his cigarette, and then kicks behind him, knocking the beer bottle out of the hands of the largest thug. The pork chop of a henchman attempts a sneak attack, but a with loud,
"Whah-Tah!" Jann Lee doubles him over grabbing his ears in pain from the shrill battle cry. Jann quickly spins around, roundhouse kicking a rat tail sporting punk across the face. He then looks down through regret, recognizing Master Lau.
"I was just coming to see if you needed help...jerk."
"My bad." Jann waves, but then quickly recovers in time to spin around and see Maxi tossing his warm nunchaku to the large, bubble vest wearing thug. Jann thinks to make a comment about Maxi's girly toss, but he doesn't have time as the wood comes spinning towards his face. He focuses on the shaft and reaches out longingly, catching it firmly in his grip.
"Not fast enough!" Jann rips the weapon away from the thug and wonders if he should swing them around and show off like the ultimate fighter he is, but instead chooses the easier route. Jann connects his Timbz to the man's crotch, sending him to his knees, cradling his crying trinkets and Jann smirks, "Hey, now you can sing the Brandy to my Kanye."
The thug looks up teary eyed with a pained frown,
"I couldn't just sing Adam?"
"Why? Is it getting harder for you to breathe? Jann kicks downwards, sending the thug tumbling over and then turns and looks at the leader. He focuses on remembering the worst haircut he's ever received and the intimidating scowl appears on its own.
The leader trembles, shaking his hands defensively and sorrowfully. Without a word, he spins around and runs away, slamming directly into the wall and Jann nods contently. He drops the nunchaku and looks around, surveying the destruction he's just been forced to cause.
The three women all shiver on the ground and Jann looks down compassionately,
"Are you okay?" The one in the white dress opens her mouth as Kilik peaks up the other's dress,
"We're fine, now, Ja--"
"Quiet, I'm talking to my table!"
Jann strokes the ruined garnish, but refuses to let the disaster ruin his day. He sits down in a square shaped cushion, and points at the newly recovering Talim.
"Hey you, how old are you?" Talim bites her lower lip in deep thought and quickly answers,
"Seventeen?" Janns sighs, but then realizes that he's the only law here and deems it acceptable,
"Then wiggle and jiggle yourself on over here and show me them secret techniques your momma taught you."