Jackie Saint-Michael: Drinking the Irish way

by ThunderinSilence on Tue Sep 23, 2014 9:27 pm
Jackie stared into her half-empty glass, fingers drumming a staccato beat on the greasy wooden surface of the bar counter, a smouldering cigarette stub glowing dully as a wad of ash tumbled from it onto the back of her hand. She flicked it away with a mild scowl of annoyance, before taking a deep sip from the glass; mostly ice-water by this point, only the faint residue of alcohol yet lingered. Catching the barman's eye, she raised the glass and gave it a shake, partly-melted ice cube tickling against the glass in a wordless request for another. The man silently busied himself with a couple of liquor bottles, poured them over the ice of a fresh glass, and traded it for the empty one without a word.

Jackie Delilah Saint-Michaels was completely and utterly bored. She'd barely been in Japan for two weeks, and already the place was starting to wear thin with her. It was pretty, sure, but it felt so sterile, so forced, the ingrained culture of manners standing out like a sore thumb to Jackie. She missed the spontaneity of Ireland; the quick laughs, the quicker tempers, and the bar fights that exploded into being before you even knew what was happening. If she was honest, it was really only the fights she missed out of the three, but it was still an absence that she had yet to find a way to fill here in Japan. She brought the glass to her lips, taking a few liquid gulps, before stubbing out the last remains of the cigarette as she glanced around the bar to survey its occupants.

The AFW had this much in it's favour; the diverse ethnic backgrounds of its athletes led to some pretty interesting bar tableaus. The bar wasn't far from the stadium, and she could see a host of different skin tones, hair colours, and body types, many of them heavy with muscle. Jackie felt a twitch in the corner of her eye as she saw one particularly swollen example of brute masculinity lumber out the door, hiding her grimace of distaste behind her drink. Setting the glass back down, her fingers resumed their rhythmic tapping, deep brown eyes flitting from face to face.

Well, if she couldn't be in Ireland for a proper bar fight, she could always bring a little of Ireland to the land of the rising sun. She straightened her body slightly, back arching as she turned to face away from the bar, chest pushed out just so, feigning the air of a bored and lonely woman, and only half needing to act. She was wearing her workout clothing beneath a simple red open hoodie and black sweat pants; hardly a swanky cocktail dress, but Jackie knew it was the allure of the unknown that caught more interest than all the bared cleavage and exposed thigh. The bait set, she simply waited to see who would bite...

by acuya on Tue Sep 23, 2014 10:03 pm
What was more pathetic than being in a shitty bar on a Saturday night? Being alone in a shitty bar on a Saturday night.

Army had come in an hour or so ago, fresh from a hard day of working out. He looked as good as he ever looked - blue jeans, ripped at the end, hard black boots, wearing a blue Superman t-shirt. It clung tight to his body, accentuated the muscles, but didn't make him look like he was trying too hard, not like he was going to rip the shirt with a few flexes. He worked out. He worked hard. Nothing wrong with showing that off, just a little.

The average Japanese women seemed to disagree, though. The average Japanese woman seemed to prefer someone a little closer to her size. The average Japanese woman seemed to prefer a man who actually spoke her language half-decently and wasn't scrounging around for a translator every other second. Sure, there were other races around, people who spoke English and maybe even a little Spanish, but they were either fellow wrestlers or tourists, and fuck tourists. He hated them back in Puerto Rico, that wasn't going to change here.

He was about to take one, final drink at the bar and call it a night, ready to go home and fade while he played some Halo or something. As soon as the drink came back, though, he caught sight of a cute little brunette number stretching a few barstools away. Especially 'little', not too far off from behing a full-fledged midget. Army was tempted to write her off as one of those freaky little Kawaii brats, but she did have that nauseatingly sweet look about her. She looked like a serious woman. A seriously bored woman.

Armando Rodriguez could fix that. Oh, yeah.

He took his drink and hopped a few seats down, stopping right before he made it to the one next to her. "Hey." He made sure to put a little bit more bass in his voice than usual, stress the accent. The accent was crucial. He leaned her way with a smirk, hovering over the seat between them. "Kind of looks like we could both use a little company. Mind if I give it a shot?"

by ThunderinSilence on Tue Sep 23, 2014 10:23 pm
It didn't take Jackie long to pick up the tell-tale signs of interest from a guy across the other end of the bar counter; tall, muscular, clearly not local, probably Hispanic in some way by the look of him. He started to approach, tactfully taking a position with a seat between them, before coming in with the charm-offensive. It took a great deal of self-control not to laugh at the exaggerated accent, no doubt carefully practised in front of a mirror for the perfect mix of masculine bass and panty-dropping smoulder. Well, he wasn't the only one with an exotic accent. Twisting her lips into a smile and forcing it to seem genuine, Jackie leant back a little more on the counter, leaning just so to let her hoodie roll back slightly to expose one shoulder enticingly.

"Oh, is it a little company that you want?" she purred with an arched eyebrow, letting the grin seem to suggest it was a joke rather than a trap. Her lilting brogue was injected with a sultry bite, hinting at much but saying nothing by itself as her eyes took in the tall and muscular frame. She could smell the scent of deodorant and the faint hint of workout sweat it attempted to smother; Oh, had yourself a hard workout boyo? Handy to know... the thought crept through her head, all hidden behind that appealing smirk as she gestured to the empty seat, an invitation to seat himself. "Well if you fancy a shot, then shoot away; God loves a trier they say. And what would your name happen to be then?"

by acuya on Tue Sep 23, 2014 10:42 pm
Oh. Irish. That was new. Didn't get too many Irish ladies in Puerto Rico, especially not ones with a brogue that damn thick. That just made it all the sexier.

Army took a seat and started to have a gulp, before he thought better of it and slid the beer her way. Offering it up as a sacrifice. Strategy. You had to give a little to get what you want. It wasn't the most expensive thing on the bar, but it wasn't the cheapest, either, and with any luck it would score him bonus points. She already let him get within striking distance, she seemed game, and the way she purred and grinned, she might as well have been sending out invitations. Looking good so far.

"My name would happen to be Armando Rodriguez, but I don't much care for it. Army is fine." He matched her grin and propped one elbow on the bar as he turned to her in full, scanning her from top to bottom over a hot second. Hard to get a read on her body underneath, the clothes, but she looked slim, at least. Real confident for such a small lady, too. He didn't go for women that small, typically, but that rule was soft enough for him to break it in the right conditions. Like this one.

"And what might your name happen to be, bonita?" Julia. He was getting a definite 'Julia' vibe.

by ThunderinSilence on Tue Sep 23, 2014 11:00 pm
Jackie continued to play the game carefully; not to much, can't appear desperate; not too little, don't want to scare him away. Give him a teaser and his brain will do the rest. She took the offered beer with a grateful nod, lifting it up to her lips and tilting her head back to let the cool amber liquid tumble down the neck and into her mouth. She let a tiny drop dribble past her lips, coursing down the length of her neck, the shining bead rolling as she shifted her upper body slightly to let the hoodie slide off her other shoulder, falling down to bunch around her hips and exposing her upper body; toned, slender, bared for his eyes save for the sports top that merely drew attention to the fact that not every part of her seemed quite so small. As that errant droplet arrived at her breasts, it seemed to hesitate, before rolling away and out of sight.

She didn't need to check if he was looking. Bringing the bottle back down, she smacked her lips and pretended to exam the label. "Not bad, but not a patch on some of the stuff from back in the homeland," she said, crafting her tone to sound sad, alone...vulnerable. Her big brown eyes turned to Army and her lips became a smile again, "Bugger, where are my manners? The name's Jackie; Jackie Saint-Michael. So, what brings a big chap like you to a place like this?" she asked, feigning interest as her fingers played across the bottle top.

by acuya on Tue Sep 23, 2014 11:18 pm
Jackpot. Fucking...jackpot.

Army was definitely going to have to visit Ireland at some point if they steadily produced women like this. The girl was just damn fine, she was damn fine and she knew it, giving Army a little tease and letting his mind run wild. Army watched the droplet running down her chest like it was the single most important thing in his entire life, and he almost felt like it should be. Despite the size, she looked like a girl who knew her way around a gym. Always a plus. With any luck, he might figure out where that little drop went to before night was out.

"Yeah, I miss the stuff home, too. Tequila's hard to come by on this side of the planet." Connecting with her a little bit, and it helped that it was true. Japanese drinks were bad, but nothing hit home like the good old stuff. Just a bottle of Patrón... "But Jackie, nice - got an Aunt with that name." Half lie, her name was 'Jacquelina'.

He sat back and inched a little, letting out a deep sigh. "Me? Just thought I'd come down and hang, you know? New in town, trying to meet people, get a little circle going. You?"

by ThunderinSilence on Tue Sep 23, 2014 11:34 pm
Jackie was pretty sure if this guy was working his way through every classic "Sympathise with the hot girl" line invented; she might as well have been playing Pick-Up Technique Bingo in her head the whole time. She let the amusement show in her smile and pretended it was genuine, that she was interested in him as she took another gulp from the bottle.

"Pretty much the same; came here by myself a few weeks ago, been trying to wrap my head around the place ever since I got here. Everyone's so....polite," she tried not to let the venom show in her tone as she said the word, "All the bowing and scraping, makes me feel like I'm back at bloody Catholic school again."

Her eyes slid around the room for a split second, checking that all the pieces were in place and ready for what she had in mind. The game had been fun, but the trap was set, and it just needed the right trigger to spring it. She flashed a bright smile and a light, easy laugh tumbled from her lips.

"Still, at least everything's the right size here," she said with a wink. OK then boyo, we both know what you're going to say next, and then we'll see how pretty you are afterwards, eh?

by acuya on Tue Sep 23, 2014 11:52 pm
Ugh, Catholic School. That brought back nightmares. Army's mother had tried to make him go when he was young, and he only got through about one week before he was starting fights. Fortunately, his father had better sense and go t him on the right path - beating people up as a legitimate profession. Much better.

"Yeah, it's a different kind of world." He sighed, getting genuine again. He was starting to get the homesickness. "My sister, she's blending in pretty good. Me? I'm trying. But everything is big. Cramped. I feel like I can't even move sometimes, like I'm getting stuck in the crowd. I miss the quiet. Puerto Rico would get real quiet at night, and I could hear the surf outside, and it would just take me off to sleep. Right off. Here?" He scoffed and shook his head. "Noise. Always. Fucking. Noise. Took me a month before I could sleep a whole night."

Army shrugged and snapped out of it at her laugh, turning back her way and bringing the smile back. He could mope some other time. Really, he was being paid to wrestle sexy women in a ring. Life could be a shit-ton worse. "But yeah, everything's the right size, bonita. Present company included."

by ThunderinSilence on Wed Sep 24, 2014 12:21 am
And there it was; the little trigger to start the whole thing off. Jackie savoured the moment as she felt the anger bubble inside of her, and let out a deep sigh of pleasure, rolling her neck out before flashing Army a grin.

"Bingo," she purred, and lunged.

She'd been going over the attack in her head, over and over, waiting for him to be in the right spot and completely off guard before making the first move. Kicking her legs up and grasping the seat of her stool, she'd sweep them out in a wide arc, terminating at the base of his skull, using the centrifugal force of the spin to drag his face hard into the bar counter.

Next, with her legs up on the counter, she'd thrust with her arms to carry her petite frame up and over it, clutching for the big guy's head and dragging him into a three-quarter facelock jawbreaker, her body dropping to the other side of the bar counter, his head dragged sharply down to be viced sharply between the counter top and her own weight and momentum plummeting down.

Finally, flipping back onto her feet, she'd take that bottle of piss-water he'd handed her and smash it over his thick head.

She could visualize every movement needed, step by step, and like a coiled spring she unfurled into swift and savage action.

by acuya on Wed Sep 24, 2014 5:54 am
Army never stood a chance.

He had no idea what hit him. One second he was sitting at the bar, well on his way to ending the night was a little Irish takeout. The next moment, someone came at him from behind and introduced his face to the bar at about the speed of sound, and the world became filled with pain. Pure, undiluted, unrestricted pain.

He tried to pull away as the blow rocked his face, and for a second he almost managed to get up, until someone from behind the bar grabbed a hold of him and slammed his face back down again. The rich metallic taste of blood filled his mouth from a busted lip, and he could already feel the rage starting to build, searing hot. When he got up he'd beat the shit out of whoever these fuckers were, give them the fight they wanted.

But the glass bursting against his head knocked those thought right out of him, coming from a third guy before he could even start to get into the fight. His legs gave way and he tried to grab hold of the bar on his way down, but couldn't find anything worth holding on it. Down he went, right on his back, flopping around like an overturned turtle.

"Meirda...fuck. Fuck! " He groaned and grasped his head while he rocked back and forth, spitting out blood, slurring out a string of curses in both his languages. "Hijos de puta, gonna fuck you, mother...cocking pussy ass, coño..." He tried to get past the haze enough so he could take a look at....no one? He expected there to be at least two, maybe three guys doing the beating. One from behind, maybe two behind the bar. He didn't see any of them, it was just Jackie. Just...her.

He blinked as the pieces started to come together. "...the fuck?"

by ThunderinSilence on Wed Sep 24, 2014 10:01 am
It was for moments like this that Jackie wished she had the time to snap a picture, to preserve for prosperity that look of slack-jawed, dumbfounded incomprehension on the face of every meat-head that first got a taste of Jackie's all-out offensive style of fighting and whose brain simply could not compute that X level of violence could come out of Y amount of mass. It's what got her up in the mornings.

But there was no time to take pictures. No time to gloat, or laugh at how pathetic he looked laid out on his back like that. Jackie's style of combat was unrelenting and without mercy, and so instead of mocking Army for ever thinking he'd been in with a chance, she launched herself into the next series of attacks. Before the barman could even react to the sudden, violent series of events that had just taken place, Jackie planted her hands on the bar counter and vaulted her diminutive frame clean over, sailing over Army's downed body as she brought her legs down for a sharp landing level with his head, stomping the heel of one of her training shoes down towards his right eye. It wouldn't have quite the sting of a more weighty opponent doing the same, but the objective was to disorientate the opponent, keep them reeling with rapid blows to the head; a dazed opponent was an opponent that wasn't thinking fast enough to have a hope of dealing with her.

Not pausing for a second to even see if the stomp had landed, Jackie moved onto the next step, spinning on the heel of the other foot as she brought a leg scything around sharply in a low sweep, sending it crashing into the central pole supporting the weight of one of the smaller tables, big enough for maybe three people to cluster around. Indeed, two of the seats had been occupied, and were staring with as much incomprehension as Army had been, their attention only barely flickering back to their table by the time the heavy mass of wood and metal was sent toppling over by the kick, the mass of it tumbling towards Army's downed form, dumping the drags of several near-empty glasses and the contents of the ash tray down along with it's descending weight.

by acuya on Wed Sep 24, 2014 4:16 pm
Army eyes widened as the pieces all came in and he figured out that Jackie was the one doing the mauling. Apparently he'd pissed off the reincarnation of Bruce Lee, and he wasn't even sure what he said to set her off. It wouldn't be the first time a girl got pissed because he botched the approach, but they usually waited until he said something wrong and gave him a slap. This chick just went off for nothing and was royally kicking his ass.

He opened his mouth to ask some of the m any, many questions that were going through his brain right now, when she sprung into action once more and leaped towards him. Training kicked in and took care of him, made him bring up his arms to protect his face, and sheer reflexes were the only thing that saved him from getting his skull crushed under her heel. She stomped on his forearm instead, which wasn't pleasant and numbed up his right arm, but was a damn sight better than what she was going to hit.

He rolled over to his chest as fast as he could and started to push himself up. "Fucking Leprechaun bitch! You want-"

He had just started on a nice, long rant that Jackie apparently had no interest in hearing, as she dumped a table right on his back. Glass shattered nearby and someone somewhere screamed bloody murder, as a few of the patrons bolted for the door, probably figuring this was AFW business they did not want to be a part of. Smart people.

Army struggled, trying to push up and get the table off him. Usually he could just shrug the thing away, but everything was spinning and bleary and he could barely tell which way was up at the moment. "Come on, shit-"

by ThunderinSilence on Wed Sep 24, 2014 5:28 pm
The big lug was either faster than Jackie had given him credit for, or his skull was thicker than even she had predicted. Either way, Army had weathered the series of blows to the head better than some, enough that he was still able to throw his arms up in a bleary defence, and her heel had hammered down into in forearm rather than his skull. Not bad....but he still hadn't expected the table, which was now bobbing around as he struggled to get his body coordinated right enough to push it aside. It hadn't slowed him down too much, but what it had done was keep him distracted, focused on disentangling himself rather than on Jackie's movements.

The small Irish woman struck out once more, leaping up so he wouldn't be alerted by the sound of her footsteps and gripping the edge of the upturned table, vaulting over it as she came down on the other side of Army, crouching as she landed to deaden the noise of her drop. Not sparing a moment, she swiftly turned, hands reaching for his right ankle, one hand to brace it steady while the other gripped his foot and yanked sharply. For all her toned physique, she knew if she had tried to maintain the hold over time that Army's strength could have easily bucked her lose, so rather than aiming to wear the joint down over time, she gave it as quick and brutal a twist as possible before releasing it, trusting in the swiftness of the act that he hadn't had the time to brace himself against the twist. Even as she tried to wrench the big man's right foot out the socket, her own was raised up high, her body displaying almost ballerina-like poise and suppleness as she arched her body forward and balanced on her left, her right foot sweeping down with a hiss of air to terminate in an area of Army's body that he had probably not been expecting such rough treatment from her just a few moments ago. Even if the plan for his ankle didn't pay off, she figured the kick would keep him occupied for long enough to put her next attack into play.

by acuya on Wed Sep 24, 2014 5:47 pm
Army had to get up. He knew he had to get up. He wanted to get up. But his body just was not complying.

He pushed off the floor, managed to get a few inches up, before the weight of it all crashed down on him again and laid him flat. He was strong enough to get out, he knew that, it was just damn near impossible with his head swimming for so many different reasons. Jack - 'Jackie' was way too cute of a name - was fucking fast, he couldn't get it together, and she just kept coming and coming, and...where was she?

He got his answer when he felt small, steely hands wrap around his ankle, lifting it up with bad intentions. He tried to pull free, and he might have managed it if he had more than half a second for the effort. Jack gave his ankle a vicious twist, sending a sharp pain through his leg, and before he could even react, before he could even start to scream, she followed it up with a hard blow to the cojones.

Army's let out a long, wailing cry and went into spasms so violent they tossed the table clear off him as he thrashed around. He curled up into a ball with his eyes wired shut, gritting his teeth as he nursed his poor, aching balls, leaving his ankle to just wallow in the pain "Fucking bitch!" He hissed and muttered under his breath. "Crazy, cheap shooting, fucking cunt, bitch...fuck!"

by ThunderinSilence on Wed Sep 24, 2014 6:09 pm
Jackie felt the satisfying grind of bone and cartilage being flexed too hard, too fast as she expertly twisted the big man's foot in her hands. She doubted she'd managed to sprain it, but anything to keep the powerful man from being keen to put much weight on it worked just fine for her. Her sizzling kick kept her opponent more focused on cradling his wounded "pride" than mounting any sort of effective offense, although even in his downed position, his thrashing was enough to send the table rolling off of his, forcing Jackie to sidestep out of the way. She had to admit, it had been a while since she'd landed such a ferocious ambush on someone and they still had this much fight left in them this far in.

Jackie was interested to see how long it would take before she'd beaten it out of him.

As the table rolled out the way, Jackie rushed back onto the attack, her toned body starting to shimmer with beads of sweat as she kept up the all-out offensive. She raced around the downed Army until she was level with his head to the right side of him, just a little over from facing him full on, and her left foot swept in low, hooking under his chin as she sought to bring his body more upright off the ground. If it all went as she'd planned in her head, once his torso was off the floor, she'd slip her foot from under his chin and, spinning on her other foot, sweep it around in a heel kick to his bloodied face, continuing the strikes to the head and further reeling him back to ensure he didn't just tumble straight back over. To complete the series of strikes, she'd leap on past him to reach the counter top, kick off of it, and on her way sailing back drag his head into the floor with a blistering DDT. The image alone almost made her purr in eager anticipation as she began to make it happen.

by acuya on Wed Sep 24, 2014 6:32 pm
And that was the day Army decided to wear a cup wherever he went.

How long had he been fighting? Years. Over a decade of hard training. Countless brawls, in the ring and out. This wasn't the first time he'd taken a beating, he could admit that, but it was the first time it had happened in less than twenty seconds. Jack was like a demon, just demolishing him, piece by piece, and he still had no fucking idea why!

He'd just started to push up, even though getting back on his feet would have taken the better part of an hour, when she went on the attack again. Feet. Kicking. Everywhere. He couldn't even be sure where the attacks were coming from. She was everywhere and nowhere all at once. He'd get a lock on her for a second, then he'd just take an attack from another direction. Blow after blow after blow, relentless and wild, smacking his head around and sending blood out in every direction.

Before he could even fall down from the assault, she grabbed hold of him and hammered him into the floor, making him crash with resounding impact. His entire world went white for a moment as the mother of all headache tore through his skull, and he came to a rest on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Not moving, beyond a few twitches and his mumbling mouth, spitting out a few finale, feeble curses. "What...what...."

by ThunderinSilence on Wed Sep 24, 2014 7:37 pm
The giant figure reeled up almost to his knees as Jackie's kick widened that bloody lip and spread fresh crimson across her training shoe, then barely a moment later brought his skull down to meet the hardwood floor of the bar yet again with a thunderous CRASH that jumped several off the nearby bottles, toppling one that had by some miracle remained standing on the counter top during the frenzy of events. As Jackie rolled to the side and got to her feet, she admired her handiwork, as the muscular body of Army rolled onto it's back and then stayed there, chest heaving and half-words mumbling through his thickened lips.

Jackie gave a near-feral grin as she savoured the tight heat that pulsed through her with every heartbeat, her body overclocking from the intense series of actions she'd just taken. She was only now becoming aware of the ache in her limbs, the familiar sensation as her body started to process the toll she'd put her frame through in order to move that fast without pause. The pain was all a part of the pleasure though, and seeing the big, confident smirk wiped clean off her victim's face was better than sex to her. With the fighting over, she permitted herself a little luxury, strolling casually towards the fallen giant, scooping up one of the discarded bottles that still held a little left as she went. As she reached Army, Jackie panted a foot on his thick neck, putting just enough pressure on it to let him know she was ready to keep going at even a hint of resistance, and took a pull from the bottle.

"Sorry, but you're not my type," She said with a satisfied purr, tilting the bottle to pour the last dregs out onto his face, before simply letting go of the bottle, the thick glass bottom bouncing off his skull. Paying him no more attention, she strolled over to where she had been seated, scooping up the hoodie that had been shrugged off earlier, and cast a sidelong glance at the barman still standing dumbstruck at the bar.

"The big lad's picking up my tab," She said, not even bothering to wait for a reply before turning on her heel and strolling out the bar, whistling the first few bars of a cheery Irish ditty. Perhaps Japan wasn't going to be so bad after all.

by acuya on Wed Sep 24, 2014 8:02 pm
Army was only dimly aware of what happened next. It felt like he was going in and out of consciousness, getting little flashes here and there. He remembered Jack's foot on his neck, but not her putting it there in the first place. Choking him, making him gag and sputter beneath her heel. That look on her face, that primal, psycho grin, seemed to burn into his eyeballs and stayed etched on his mind long after she'd gone.

His face was wet, and for a second he thought this beating had taken a really terrible turn, but no - it was just cheap beer, splattering along his face, stinging his eyes. The bottle it came from dropped down on his skull a moment later, and any other time, that might have gotten a serious reaction out of him. Now? He just twitched and went into a short spasm.

And then Jack was gone. Like a fart in the wind.

It took Army a full fifteen minutes to stand again, and he needed help to pull that off. Everything hurt. He could barely stand. He could barely breath. The bouncers apologized for not stepping in, but it all happened so fast, they never really had a chance. He didn't blame them, and they at least had the decency to give him some free drinks, easing the pain.

No, he blamed himself. Stupid, letting his guard down, falling for that shit. So dumb. That was something Clyde would have done. But he was going to do something Clyde wouldn't do, too: find that bitch and get even.

Just as soon as soon as got home and took the longest sleep of his entire life.