Are You #&@%ing Insane?

Shortly after having a totally expected encounter with a totally unexpected twist, Blaise Cameron bee-lined for his locker room. The door shuts behind him, he reaches his locker, and promptly thumps his forehead against the metal surface.

'I have to be out of my mind.'

He came here to change out into his wrestling gear, to prepare for the match. But all he can do is begin bonking his head against the locker, issuing metallic clang sounds into the hall. He knows he's playing with fire. He knows the odds are stacked heavily against him. He knows everything he's worked for here could be gone in less than a day. He could lose his friends, his girlfriend, and even his career as it feels it's finally starting to show a little promise.

He agreed to do the match, though. And despite the mounting tension rising in him, causing him to begin mildly hyperventilating, he has no intentions of backing out. This is something he has to do.

Clang. Clang.

Amy wasn’t scheduled for a match, either, but she showed up just the same. After the utter humiliation that the Valkyries had suffered last week, Mako, vengeful little thing, was bound to make a move, so, when Mako came out at the half, it was no more than what Amy expected. She was a little surprised at Mako’s strategy- Blaise wasn’t about to be embarrassed by a rehash of his history in the ring. Then, once Blaise had taken the bait and made his appearance, Mako made her move.

An I Quit match, with the stipulation that the loser leave Tension. It was a bold, final, cruel challenge. Blaise would have been stupid to accept. But Blaise was a crowd pleaser, and Mako had buttered Blaise up and stoked the crowd right from the start.

Of course he accepted.

This made Amy very angry. So that’s why she was going from locker room to locker room, risking the sight of dicks that she did not want to see, in hot pursuit of a headstrong teen about to throw everything away on what amounted to little more than a dare. After a handful of dead ends, a metallic clanging sound caught her attention. She silently opened the door to the room that it sounded like it was coming from. Blaise was just inside, practicing headbutts on the locker door. Amy watched for a moment, her anger cooling, before she finally spoke up. “Hey asshole,” She began, considerably more gently than she had initially expected this conversation to go. “It’s not too late to back out of the match.”

The door opens and Blaise's brow comes to rest against the cool metal surface.

He should've expected this visit. He even expected Amy to be vitriolic. She's a bombastic gal, much like himself (only minus the 'gal' part), if a bit more direct and blunt. But she her attitude wasn't as aggressive as he'd expected. It's a small comfort - but it doesn't change anything.

"I can't."

Blaise's head rolls aside to look at her. His expression is written in worry and stress, eyes wide with a tiny frown. "I can't." His eyes beg that she understand. But logically, somewhere, he knows it's probably not making any sort of sense.

Amy frowned. Blaise was clearly troubled by the situation that he'd put himself in, so he obviously knew what was at stake here. She stepped more fully into the locker room and took a seat on the bench behind him.

"Yes you can, why can't you?"

As Amy assumes her seat, Blaise rolls over to continue facing her.

"Because if I do this, I can end it. She's the lynch-pin. Take her out, the rest'll run out of steam."

It's nerve-wracking, measuring what minimal success he's had in the federation against the thunderous failure that's marked his professional career in aggregate. He knows he had Stone. He's sure of it. But there's no telling what Mako's going to be like, if she'll make the same mistakes. This predicament has landed on his lap, and the only 'right' answer seems to be putting it all on the line.

The teen sinks, sliding his back along the locker until he's squatting across from Amy, only his eyes peeking at her from over his knees.

Amy nodded slowly. "If you win. If you lose, though..." She let the words hang like a cloud over them. The sentence didn't need completing.

Amy took Blaise in. He was half a foot taller than she was, and maybe a good fifty pounds heavier. Right now, though, he just looked so small. He hid behind curled knees like a frightened child; he was being brave, that much Amy understood; Amy could always count on Blaise to do what he thought was the right thing. But there was no disputing that Blaise was scared, that the potential consequences of this match were nothing short of daunting. He looked like he needed encouragement. An arm around the shoulders. A friend's support.

But that's not why Amy was here. Blaise was being reckless, cavalier with what he'd worked so hard to obtain. She saw the doubt he carried as a good sign. She might still be able to talk him out of this.

Amy leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, and eyes focused hard on Blaise's. "Do you think you can take her?"

Blaise didn't want to hear the ominous 'if you lose' scenarios. They're plaguing his mind hard enough already. He gives no response in relation to that doomcloud, other than to bundle his arms a little tighter around his knees. Those wide blue eyes remain affixed on hers as she hunches forward and asks her direct question.

That's the question of the day, isn't it? Blaise isn't entirely convinced he can. He's convinced he can try his hardest and put his everything into it, because everything is on the line. But would that really be enough?

"I... think so...?," he offers. His voice is as small as his demeanor with this answer, and the doubt and worry is pervasive.

Blaise looked so vulnerable. Amy had to swallow the urge to sit on the floor next to him. But being gentle now would only harm Blaise in the long run. No, Amy needed to be blunt. Easy enough; that just meant being brutally honest.

“You ‘think’? You don’t sound very sure.” Amy straightened up. “Let’s lay it out. Who won when you and I fought?”

Those big blue eyes lower as Amy points out his uncertainty. They stay there as she continues, Blaise's demeanor shrinking just a little more.

"Y-you did." This is normally no big deal. In fact, he always viewed their match as a good thing. He made his first, best friend out of it. But it feels like it's being paraded now, chipping away at what precious confidence he's trying to cling onto.

“That’s right. I did.” Amy nodded. She fought back the guilt that was climbing up the back of her neck. “Was it a close fight, Blaise?”