Wild Animals

"What the fuck is a jobber?" Taylor wrinkled her brow in confusion, but continued on. "I do know what you mean, actually... I was an easy target my whole life, growing up. I had a lot of trouble in school, like, I dressed way more punk then, and I had a mouth... kinda like now." She stuck out her tongue. "Girls used to gang up on me. I got my ass kicked all the time. It was awful. When I came here, I lost my first few, and it was like, a year before things started to come together for me. I was really afraid that I'd end up... an easy target. Like, that's what drove me."

Cassie nodded along in quiet agreement, and Taylor jumped on it. "Bear doesn't know anything about that, though. No one hates her, and she already had like a ten billion and one record with grappling shit before she came here. She doesn't know anything about being helpless."

"Sure I do!" Cassie giggled. "I'm little. I can't reach high things. And... I dunno. I guess I haven't ever really thought about things that way. Except during... ya know, Dark Angel."

Taylor nodded. She opted not to get into that. "Yeah. Well, people don't just fuck with me anymore. That's not true... people do, but only like, the top few girls in Friction who think they can handle a piece of me. But like... I wish some random chick would try to start shit with me now..." She trailed off as the waitress came over. How sweet would that be.

Gemma felt a bit embarrassed, still, at rambling like she had. She listened intently to Taylor, though, wide-eyed and attentive as the veteran talked to her about coming up through the ranks. The Brit couldn't help but suppress a giggle as Cassie described her life of shelving-related hardships. When the “dark angel” subject was broached, Gemma's eyebrow raised curiously, but she opted not to press the matter. It seemed like something people weren't too willing to talk about.

“Ah, right,” Gemma said, from behind her menu. “Firstly, I suppose a jobber is … Well, the promoter knows a wrestler isn't actually any good, so they just put them up against monstrous opponents they know will squash them. Makes a 'monster' seem more 'monster-ey.' AFW might not even do that sort of thing. I'll admit, the company I used to wrestle for was a little … carney, in nature, so we used that sort of thing fairly often. I mean, we had 'Gertie the Wrestling Cow,' who was an honest-to-God cow, so. You know.

“I think you've hit the nail on the head, though, talking about people not fucking with you. Not being an easy target. It's just a little odd. Back home, I would tap out, get pinned, and maybe the other girl would pick on me. Goof off a little bit. Worst it got, they'd talk shit in the locker room, about how I didn't deserve to be there. But here, I lose a match and suddenly things go nuclear. I've got this cowgirl throwing dog food down my throat, or this psychotic slagamuffin chomping on my face while her pet bimbo tries to remove my chest via stomping.”

When the waitress approached, Gemma stopped, rather self consciously, and gave the menu a final glance. “Ooh! I'll have the rajma masala, with a glass of water, thank you! Lovely.” She waited for the others to finish ordering, before continuing.

“It has to be nice, not having folks mess with you. I just … I don't know. On the one hand, I want to be taken seriously. As a competitor. To show that, no, in fact, I actually don't suck. On the other, though, I kind of miss being part of something that felt a little more … Well, goofy, you know? Like, we got to have some fun, with everything, and I kind of miss the 'fun' aspect. Am I making any sense at all, here, or am I rambling?”

"Dog food?" Cassie echoed.

Taylor ordered miso soup, flash-fried shishito peppers, fresh spring rolls to share, and stir-fried tofu and vegetables. She had decided to eat vegan in honor of their guest, and for old times' sake. Cassie ordered kare rice.

"So fair warning, I burn through probably like four thousand calories a day. Food is kind of serious business," Taylor explained. "But someone fed you dog food? What the fuck is that about?"

Cassie also seemed very concerned. "Sorry your matches haven't gone the way you wanted yet. Hang in there, though!"

"Man, fighting has never been about fun for me. Like, I have fun doing it, but I always know that it's, like... life and death in there. Really bad things can happen to you in there, so you can't just go in expecting to have fun..."

"Competition was always fun for me, but since I was really little I knew that it was serious business. There was no goofing off in competition, or else my dad would kill me. Back then it was about showing respect and doing your best, now it's more like... for your safety."

"I dunno. I like my job, don't get me wrong. I love it. There's nothing else I'd rather be doing. But a lot of the time, it really, really sucks. I don't expect it to be fun, I just sorta... have fun, like... in spite of it. Maybe I'm being too grim about it, but I guess maybe you just need to ask yourself if this is the right place for you, and if it is, then get focused and get the fuck to work."

Gemma cleared her throat, smiling nervously. “Um, yes,” she said, “Dog food. I was a little cocky after I actually got my first win, signed on for a match I probably shouldn't have. Weird gimmick match, kind of a 'pet store' themed … hardcore … thing. After I … submitted, my opponent apparently didn't feel I'd suffered enough. So, yeah. Dog food, right down the throat.

“Honestly,” Gemma said, sipping at her water, “that might have been the start of this whole 'lose every match forever' kick I'm on. Bit hard to feel all confident and kick-ass, after something like that.” The Brit turned the glass around in her hand, watching the water sway and roll. She hoped her attempts to sound casual were working, but already Taylor had her pondering some rather serious questions. Questions that were starting to make her feel a bit uncomfortable, even though she couldn't stop turning them over, in her mind.

Gemma leaned back in her seat, quiet for a moment as she pondered. “I … I don't know. I mean, half the reason I came here, was to show I could get by on my skill. That I could be competitive. I suppose I just wasn't prepared for how rough the competition would get. I mean, last time? Last match? This little psychopath bites half my face off, knocks me out completely while her skuzzy little manager is trying to stomp my chest off. And while I'm still out, she starts making out with me! Thanks, internet, for .GIFfing the hell out of that, by the way …”

Gemma sighed, then checked over her shoulder, suddenly self-conscious over how loudly she'd been speaking about such a subject, in public. She put on a smile, then turned to Cassie. “So, you're dad got you into this too, then?” she asked, her tone softening. “What was he like? Mine was the 'classic British strongman.' Waxed mustache and all.” Gemma smirked, and slipped into a parody of her own accent, adding, “'Luv, wot's with all this flippy-jumpy, eh? You'd have beat 'er right quick, you kept that headlock on.' Then he'd go out, and spend ten minutes wrestling 'the invisible man,' because carnies. Sounds like the both of you might have come from more … Serious backgrounds, though. As far as the wrestling thing goes. What did you do, before coming here? If you don't mind my asking?”

Cassie and Taylor both nodded grimly. They knew how brutal and grotesque AFW could be. Taylor's gut reaction was to fight the people who would force someone to eat dog food, Cassie's was to comfort the victims. Gemma seemed eager to change the subject, so they didn't push it.

"Me? Well, my dad is Marc Elliot," Cassie said, as if it might mean something to Gemma. "Of Elliot Martial Arts and Elliot Jiu Jitsu. In the North American submission grappling scene you'd probably have heard of him, or at least the school. We have a school in London, the one in Canada, and another one in New York that my oldest brother started. I grew up in the gym, so I've been around jiu jitsu my whole life. I started officially learning at age three, and my first competition was at six."

"And she didn't lose. Like, ever."

Cassie laughed it off. "I did very well. I had my two older brothers and my dad to push me, and the whole school was always super nice to me. It was really great. I didn't really know how great until I came here..."

Then it was Taylor's turn to laugh. "Yeah, and then life starts to suck. It's okay, it happens to everybody in AFW. You and me got it right away, sounds like," she said, gesturing to Gemma. "Bear had her first ever pro wrestling match in Friction, and she fuckin' rocked the girl."

"Hitomi?" Cassie said. She didn't have anything else to say, because if she was honest, she did take very decisive victory over Hitomi.

"Bear didn't get the sucky part until a little later, with..." She held out a hand as if to cue everyone else to fill in the blank. "Dark Angel. For me, though, I just got my ass kicked all the time in school, and I didn't go to college. I woke up one day as a waitress, my last punk band had broken up again, and I just knew I had to make something happen. Me and Bear actually trained at the same pro wrestling school in New York, that's where we met."

"Taylor didn't like me at first." Cassie said with an impish smile.

"Taylor didn't like anyone at the time. I had a few matches in New York before I made the jump to Japan. I bulldozed girls so fast that the other rookies didn't want any, and my last one was against this other chick who... wasn't a rookie. That one was harder." She laughed. "Then Japan happened and things were really hard. Like, don't get discouraged just because things don't happen right away. You'll know if it's for you or not. If you take those beatings and you still want more, chances are you belong here, then it's just a matter of hard work and training smart. I actually sort of train people here and there, like as a hobby."

"John Mitchel, the Tension champ, came from our gym too. He's nice."

The waitress appeared and set Taylor's soup down in front of her, and Taylor leaned forward to inhale the steam while she stirred it around with a spoon. "Like... I'm not smart or anything, but I'm really good at, like, thinking about stuff in a match and figuring out the best way to handle it. Like, you've got to think about it all the time, train hard and keep your standards high, and then when you step in the ring you don't think about it. You already know what to do for every situation. Like... Do you watch your matches back? Do you watch tape?"

Gemma nodded and listened intently, as Cassie and Taylor began describing where they'd come from. A lot of the names and specifics they mentioned didn't ring many bells for her, but she was getting the gist of it. Mostly, she was immensely grateful that the two of them were being so open. It was incredibly nice, finally getting to sit down with a few friendly faces, finally.

The Brit couldn't help but give Cassie a wicked little grin, when Taylor made reference to her “rocking” her first opponent. It brought Gemma considerable joy, to think of the doe-eyed, sweetly smiling little redhead, friend to sad little rookie and raccoon alike, stepping into the ring and bringing all holy hell down onto someone. “I need to be there for one of your matches, some time!” she interjected, in hushed excitement, between exchanges.

When that “Dark Angel” came up a second time, though, Gemma was sure to make a note of it. She didn't want to be pushy, but part of her thought it might be a good idea, at some point, to compare notes with these two about who to … Look out for, at least. But, quickly enough, they were back to Taylor, and that struck the Brit a little more curiously.

Gemma's brow furrowed, as she listened. “I have such a hard time picturing anyone wanting to screw with you, Taylor,” she said, picking up her glass. “I don't know if it's how you carry yourself, or the fact that you're so, well, fit. I mean, I figure you'd paste me, anyways. Maybe that's part of my problem, though. I think … Well, I think I think too much. Like, I'm thinking of stuff I've seen you do, in your matches, and how that would work in a match with us, and what all could possibly come up. Which I do in-ring, as well. Always spinning my wheels on what move comes next, or what would be cool. Then, next I know, bam! Chew toy rammed down my throat, and the whole match goes boobies up.

“I do watch my matches back, though. At least, I do a little bit. Since I came up to AFW, anyways. My dad's indie crew wasn't too big on cameras. Little hard to keep watching, though, when it gets towards the end. Kind of surreal, watching one get the stuffing kicked out of oneself …” Mulling things over, Gemma continued to fidget with her glass. The corners of her lips twitched, slightly, as she tried to figure out what to say. Part of her, however, was too focused on something Taylor said, earlier. About taking the beatings and wanting more. That part, was weighing far more heavily on Gemma's mind, than she would have thought.

Taylor nodded. She would paste Gemma, no doubt about it. Taylor was a nightmare matchup for the Brit, judging by her personality alone. A moment of hesitation, like what Gemma seemed prone to, could mean lights out when Taylor was in the ring.

"Yeah, man. Here's like, lesson one. Ready? In training: think. In the ring: don't think. If you have to think about it, it means that you didn't train well enough. Everything needs to be right there when you need it, and thinking makes you slow, makes you second guess, makes you hesitate, and then you're back to hoping your family isn't watching you scream your throat raw on TV. Even Bear doesn't think much in the ring, and she's like a genius or whatever."

"Well... You just have to be objective about it. It's all technique, and you have to look at which ones worked and which didn't and why. Our mutual best friend is Akashi Tanikaze, and one thing I've found is a really big strength of hers is that she's always in the moment. Sometimes I catch myself losing that, even when I'm focused on the match."

"You should watch Cassie's last match," Taylor said, in between sips of soup. "Against some chick named Toshiko. She took a couple shots, and then just went all Cassiebear on her. Fuckin' worked her over. The girl like, passed out or something in the ring, just about, when she wasn't even touching her. It was weird. I think she just scared her to death with all of her bear-y ferociousness."

Gemma felt like her head was swimming, a bit, while she listened to the other girls talk. Every bit of advice they gave her sounded so solid, so spot-on, she didn't want to lose a single bit of it. The Brit was getting visibly excited, now, as she listened to the pair carry on. It felt like an entirely new world unfolding on her, and the fact that she had such delightful guides for it was massively helpful. "Like- Like a Zen thing? Thinking without thinking?" she asked. "No, Gems," she told herself, quietly and admonishingly, "that's daft, just listen."

Gemma nodded, enthusiastically, as she took it all in. Gemma found herself feeling like she hadn't been thinking of this AFW issue correctly, at all. Right at the table, however, Cassie and Taylor were deconstructing it, and Gemma didn't want to miss a single moment of what they had to say. Gemma's eyes visibly cemented, though, when Taylor mentioned "hoping your family isn't watching you scream your throat raw on TV." That part of the lecture clearly struck a chord with the young Brit, a visible connection that probably was probably far less subtle as the Brit would have liked.

"Objective makes sense," Gemma said, nodding as she listened along. "I think I can get objective. I hope" Try as she might, however, Gemma couldn't suppress a giggle at the thought of the redheaded Canadian going all "Cassiebear" on someone, with all of her "bear-y" ferociousness. "I seriously need to watch those matches of yours, Cassie," Gemma said, earnestly. "If it's okay with you, sometime, I'd love to be a corner girl for you, one night. You just sound so bloody amazing, and I need to see the Cassiebear in action." As she spoke, Gemma began to unshoulder her coat, beginning to feel truly comfortable. Beneath the coat, Gemma was wearing a tightly-fitted grey waistcoat over an elaborate button-down dress shirt, with a vintage amber brooch at her neck. The material of the shirt was thin, thin enough that the bruises of her last match were shining clearly through the material, but Gemma paid it no mind. She shouldered her coat onto the chair, her smile never wavering as she looked over at her new acquaintances.

“I will have to check out that match of yours with this Tashiko, though,” Gemma said. “I have to say, you two seem so composed about this sort of thing. Probably comes from having such competitive sports backgrounds. When I won my first match, here- no lies, I promise, I did actually win, once- I geeked out soooo squalling hard for myself. Told everyone I knew, said they simply had to watch. Which, of course, backfired on me, hard. I guess I should try to get over that, if I'm ever able to think of how to. Might come from trying too hard to be 'entertaining,' and all.” Gemma sipped from her water, setting into her seat and practically radiating comfort, as she talked to the pair. "Is that something something I need to watch out for, then? I'd like to think it's like confidence, but getting excited for myself doesn't seem to end well. 'Pride goeth before getting your stuffing kicked in by some awful skank,' and all that."

"She is amazing!" Taylor grinned.

"I'm really not..." Cassie said modestly.

"She's the best submission grappler in AFW. No contest."

"Well..." That was probably true, actually. "I haven't got to face the top pro wrestling submission girls, though, like Minami Toshimi."

"But you'd beat her like everybody else." She looked back at Gemma. "This girl has hardly lost a match. Ever. In her life. Once she figures out how good she is, man... Everybody's got weaknesses, and once you figure out what they are you have to work your ass off to fix 'em. Bear thinks she's one-dimensional, but I used to be one-dimensional. I always got worked over by the technical wrestler-types... I'd just get tossed around and held down and beat up. But thanks to Bear and Akashi and my husband, I'm waaaay better than I was. My weakest point now is probably better than half the roster."

"Taylor's going to be in title contention soon," Cassie said with a proud little smile.

Taylor nodded. "Yeah, that is definitely gonna happen. This year."

"We've been doing this stuff for a long time," Cassie told Gemma. "I always expect to win, and so does Taylor. This is just our life. Your job is to be as good as you can, and win, and when you lose you use it to figure out how to be better. That's what has always really inspired me, about Taylor, is the way she handles setbacks. She's really improved from all of her losses." Cassie and Taylor exchanged a look. "And she's not invincible. I know that every little failure hurts her, but the way she takes that and doesn't let it slow her down... Like to be able to be hurt and scared and only fight harder, it's really amazing."

"Thanks." Taylor sipped her soup while the moment passed. "So anyway, you can be flashy and stuff, but it's gotta fit. Like, if you tried to force it and be flashy with me, I'd fuck you up. If it's there, you can take it. I mean, springboarding is one of my favorite things in the world. I think I'm one of the best with it, too, like, the most precise and stuff, but I learned the hard way that you can't just pull that out because you want to. It's got to be a clean shot."

Gemma couldn't help but settle in, cozily, as she watched the two more experienced wrestlers talk over their skills and strengths. After all she'd been run through since coming to AFW, it was nice to see some girls being so supportive, of one another. Fidgeting with her water, some more, Gemma leaned in. Shoulders squared and arms tucked neatly between her body and the table, the Brit listened intently to everything they had to say.

Gemma gave a supportive grin to Cassie, as Taylor talked her up. In the back of her mind, however, the Brit was turning her wheels, trying to turn what they were saying around into things she could apply to her own style. While still paying rapt attention to the other girls, she couldn't help but wonder about her “one note.” Or about how she could try to identify weakness, in her opponents. Or how they seemed to so easily detect it, in her.

When Cassie mentioned Taylor's title prospects, however, it derailed those thoughts. “That is so very, very cool,” Gemma said, sipping from her glass. She couldn't imagine herself contending for a title. Not any time soon, at least. If she did, though, she hoped she could do so in half as cool and confidently as Taylor was carrying herself, right now. Quickly, however, it seemed the conversation turned a bit serious. As she listened, Gemma's shoulders sank, and despite her best efforts, and her lips stuck out in a slight pout. More than anything, Gemma wished she could take her own lumps in stride, and try to grow from them, the way these girls were talking about.

As Taylor sipped her soup and offered more advice, Gemma's expression began to get more serious. With a keen, visible pang of self-awareness, the Brit nodded as Taylor directly addressed her key issue: the flash. The leaps, the high spots, the flips and assorted crap that Gemma tried to pull in every match. Gemma couldn't help but give a bit of a smile, though, as Taylor mentioned “fucking her up.” Gemma knew without a doubt that Taylor was right, about that. The Brit found herself actually kind of wishing, however, that she'd get the chance to test it. The idea of getting to learn from something like that, regardless of how painful it would be, actually felt like a valid learning experience.

Beyond that, though, Gemma could only nod, in agreement. Thinking back on her matches, it seemed like so many of them fell apart at the same point: the moment Gemma fucked up. Her wide brown eyes closed softly, head nodding slowly, the Brit reminisced over every missed kick, botched spot and clumsy spill that had led to yet another humiliating demise. “That's … that's an uncomfortably good point you have, there, Taylor,” Gemma said, her shoulders slouching. “Kind of wish I'd caught on to that, a bit earlier. I suppose I just, well ...” Gemma chewed her lip, a moment, struggling to come up with what she wanted to say, next. "I suppose I ... Honestly, I don't what else I bring to the table, really. Other than being flashy and kind of goofy. Which, now that I've said it aloud, sounds depressingly pathetic, doesn't it? I just don't have the kind of competitive background you lot do. I want to be putting some boots to some butts. Just need to start doing that, I suppose, instead of trying to entertain ..."