The Black Fang Strikes!

There the Friction crowd was, sitting in their seats, chomping on their popcorn, minding their own business, when out of the black nowhere, a song began to play.

It was a strange, haunting melody, and the arena began to darken as it is opening keys played on. The audience muttered among themselves. Clearly, this was a new theme. But who did it belong to? What did they want?

These were questions that were answered as soon as the spotlight shined down in the middle of the ring, revealing a brand new face in the middle of the ring.


”Ladies and gentlemen. Tokyo. Japan.” She spoke in a low tone, barely a whisper, quieting the audience. ”The world of the AFW is a strange place. You come here, week after week, to see the greatest stars across the world compete for pride and glory, to test their mettle and put their very lives on the line for your entertainment. Wrestling is a truly wondrous thing, and you’ve all been blessed to participate in this great science.”

She shot her finger into the air, pointing straight to the ceiling. ”But nothing is perfect. Throughout the year, you’ve seen villainy. You’ve seen depravity. There are those who live only to abuse others, to exploit them in the middle of the ring for their own pale pleasures. A corrupt office watches on, deaf to the cries of their own employees, ignoring the plight as their own organization became a modern Sodom and Gomorrha.”

Biblical reference? Maybe too much. Religion and wrestling rarely mixed. Dial it back.

”But no more!” She declared, loud and boisterous, to a modest response. The crowd wasn’t quite sure what to make of her yet. Had to get some time. ”As lightning gives way to thunder and night gives way to day, so too must injustice give way to righteous fury.” She pointed to her chest and stepped forward. ”I am the Black Fang, and I will not be a silent witness. I have come to fight and prevail and show all that there is a price for stepping over a line, one that is paid in sweat and blood. And though my words are many, they are not without merit.”

The Black Fang spun around and faced the entrance ramp, pointing to the back. ”If anyone doubts my prowess, this is your chance to prove me wrong. I’ll take anyone. Any size. Any sex. Anytime. Anywhere!”

While she was beaming on the outside, the Black Fang was a little more internally conflicted. After all, there was no guarantee anyone would show up, and if they didn’t, she’d wind up looking so stupid...

The AFW backstage area was always a whirlwind of activity.  Production crew running back and forth to keep the show running smoothly, management and media trying to gauge the mood of the often chaotic backstage segments.  And, of course, the competitors.  Experienced women, prepping for matches to come or recovering from those that had just happened.  Newbies, hoping they could get noticed, or trying to learn what they could before they could get themselves into the ring.  And cutting a striking, pronounced figure among them was a large, wild-haired woman.



Mikki Wylde had been technically a part of the roster for some time, but had yet to make her debut.  Still, she enjoyed coming backstage between training cycles, getting the temperature of the locker room and making sure that nobody forgot her name. Between her wildly teased, multi-colored hair, her muscular figure, and her favor of striking zebra-striped pants, it wasn't hard for her to cut a distint figure in any given crowd.  Right now, however, there was another name making itself known to the AFW, and it was getting some attention.

Mikki joined some staff at a monitor, as a masked young woman took up the mic and said her peace.  Mikki looked her up and down.  The wild-haired body builder nodded approvingly.  The girl herself was smaller than Mikki, but she had an impressive quality to her.  There was a certain flair to her style of dress and, as Mikki listened to her, a certain ... dramatic element.  The religious overtones of her speech, the high-mindedness of it all, the sense that she was on some kind of crusade.  Maybe, just maybe, this was the opportunity Mikki had been waiting for.

As a couple of smaller girls started making their way toward the entrance, Mikki simply shouldered past them and strode forward.  The lights came on with her entrance, and the crowd's voices went up.  Mikki held out a hand, until a stage hand hurried out to put a microphone into it.  Instead of immediately speaking into it, however, Mikki paced back and forth across the stage, breathing heavily, trying to psych herself up while building some tension before diving headlong into a verbal confrontation with the newcomer.

Then, Mikki broke into a full run.  Wild hair bobbing and shaking wildly as Mikki shook her head, the woman looked like a flash of color and energy as she reached the ring, jumped and slid in beneath the bottom rope.  The wild-woman pushed herself up to her feet, then stepped right up to the Black Fang.  Staring the masked woman down, Mikki paced around her, getting the full measure of her opponent.  Mikki kept her arms at her sides, muscled figure flexing and relaxing as she paced the ring.  Tension seemed to build in the crowd, waiting for either woman to break the silence. Mikki held the microphone to her face a number of times, letting her breathing rasp across the top of the mic. Then, finally, Mikki spoke.

"I ..." she said, finally, in a heavy, rasping voice, "am Mikki Wylde. The Macho Chick! You've spoken, and I have heard your call! You have pointed to the heavens," Mikki lifted a finger to the sky, as Black Fang had done, "and I have descended! The Macho Chick has stepped down from Olympus, stepped into this ring with you, answering your call for action!" Mikki continued to pace, her body shaking a bit as she did so. Mikki put as much theatricality, as much energy and verve into the simple acts of walking and talking as she could, trying to make the biggest impression she possibly could.

The Black Fang breathed a sigh of relief when her call was answered and she wasn’t left talking to herself in the middle of a ring. This breath of relief was notably cut short, however, when she saw exactly who had answered the call, and the woman came running - or, more appropriately, came stampeding down the ring at full tilt, moving with enough force and heft that she could literally feel the earth quake at her approach.

A few questions ran through the mind of the Black Fang.

Who is this?

How did she get so huge?

What’s wrong with her voice? Is it naturally that way?

Oh, God, this place doesn’t have a cruiserweight division, does it?

Why did I think this was a good idea?

Outwardly, aside from a small but quick look of unabashed shock and awe, she managed to keep her composure as the giantess strode around her like a circling lioness. As she did, the Black Fang asked the one question that always got her through such puzzling situations.

WWAKD. What Would Asami Kusanagi Do?

Well, first and foremost, Asami Kusanagi wouldn’t put herself in a situation where she could be squished so early in her blossoming career, but if she were forced into such a battle, she’d make sure to keep her poise and strike back in this war of words. After all, the mental component was a key factor here. In some ways, the match had already begun, even though no bell had been rung.

”Ha!” The Black Fang laughed, full of confidence and vigor. ”You say you’re a goddess from on high? You say you’ve come from the clouds to grapple with us lowly mortals? You speak of Olympus and the heavens and other things you learned in your high school mythology class?”

The Black Fang stomped her white boot down and wagged a finger Mikki’s way, even if the visual did make her look somewhat like a little child scolding an adult. ”Fie! The Black Fang recognizes only one god, and you are not her. I am a devout worshipper of Paleastra, goddess of wrestling. She is a harsh mistress, a jealous goddess, a wrathful spirit. And now you stand here in her holy temple and blaspheme her name? Fool! Foolish fool!”

The Black Fang stepped over to meet Mikki Wylde head on, standing toe-to-toe, and...well, only toe-to-toe, since that was the only part of their parallel bodies that matched up.

”My goddess demands a sacrifice of blood, sweat, and tears. I believe you have more of those than most who step in this ring, so she will be quite pleased.”

The crowd was, of course, utterly confused, but screw it. The Black Fang was enjoying herself.

Mikki continued to pace around the ring, stalking the newcomer. Not that the powerhouse had any business calling anyone "newcomer." She might have made the rounds in the American south, but this was Mikki's first night in front of AFW cameras, too, and she had no idea what The Black Fang's background might be like. Japan and Mexico had lots of ladies in masks, right? Either way, they were getting into it, now, with the eyes of every AFW fan on them!

Mikki let the silence hang between them. Black Fang seemed to be looking her up and down, taking in the size and build of the self-proclaimed "Macho Chick." It was good tension-building, at least in her head. Mikki had come in hard with her blustery, melodramatic delivery, and now it just remained to see how the smaller woman would respond.

When Black Fang laughed, Mikki stopped in place. With each phrase, Mikki reacted, giving a dramatic nod of her head that shook her wild hair. The Black Fang was responding boldly to her, not giving an inch after what seemed like initial hesitation. Mikki stopped in her tracks with the upturned finger, a look of exaggerated outrage all over her face.

"Oooooh, yyyeaahh!" Mikki said, letting the words grind out of her throat like gravel. "Oooh, girl, you got no idea what you're in for! See, the cream rises to the top, girl, and that's where you're gonna find me! Right at the top, oh, yeah! You look up to the heavens, and that's where you're gonna see me, Jackie!

"You look up into the sky, and that's where you're gonna see the heavenly bodies." Again, Mikki lifted her finger to the sky, adding a dramatic spin of her body as she talked. "Ursa Major, Orion's Belt ... And The Wylde Child, baby! Yeah! See, this heavenly body is what you're up against now, Jackie-girl, and it's coming down hard on you!" As she talked herself up, Mikki gave a full-body flex, highlighting the definition in her build. The tension in her muscles also served to highlight the shakiness, the constant nervous energy that she seemed to carry herself with.

"See, when I get my hands on you, Black Fang, there's gonna be sacrifices, oh yeah, there's gonna be a whole sermon of pain! But when you look up at the sky, you're gonna see this heavenly body coming crashing down on you! And the choir's gonna be singing the hymn, oh yeah! 'One! Two! Three!' And they're gonna rejoice, and you're gonna be left entombed beneath the Wylde Child, pinned down to that mat. And I'm gonna be there to ask you, having come all the way down from the heavens to pin you down, and ask you- where's your goddess now, Jackie!?" Mikki's voice got louder and louder, as she went deeper into her promo. Mikki stomped her feet into the mat, emphasizing key words. Her general energy level increased, until she was nearly spitting the words directly into The Black Fang's elegantly masked face.

"Where was your goddess, when Mikki Wylde, ran Wylde on you!" With that, Mikki took a finger, and pointed it squarely into The Black Fang's chest. Mikki could tell how confused the fans were, with this exchange, but she hoped the message that gesture carried was enough to drive her point home. The gauntlet was thrown. Now, the Macho Chick was counting on her equally theatrical opponent to pick it up!

Seriously, where had this woman been hiding?

Even while Mikki spoke, the Black Fang couldn’t help but ponder that question, and for the life of her she couldn’t come up with a good answer. She was loud, proud, and built like a tank. There was no way anyone could miss her. Someone like this would’ve been a centerpiece in any of the smaller wrestling promotions in Japan, but in the AFW she’d somehow managed to stay in the back. Amazing.

Well, not anymore. The Black Fang was coming out of the shadows, and she’d happily drag this massive monster of a woman out along with her.

She stood there for a moment, eyes narrowed and arms folded, as her gaze slowly dropped down to stare at the finger - the large, powerful finger that was probably stronger than any two of her own combined - poking at her chest. As the lights cast down on them both, she was literally in Mikki’s shadow, as the behemoth cut an imposing figure into the minds of all who surveyed her.

So epic. So awesome. The Black Fang was starting to feel her boiling blood, as the anticipation surged through her like raw volts of unbridled electricity.

She raised the microphone to her mouth, speaking slow and low. ”With such size, I doubt you are capable of running at all, Mikki. Wild or otherwise.” A good burn to start off with, throw some humor into the mix. The best heroes always had a wisecrack or two. Gallows humor. ”But where will my goddess be? She will be right here.”

The Black Fang pointed at Mikki’s chest, which was quite easy, because there was a lot of chest to point at. Puberty had been inordinately kind to this one. ”For, you see, the goddess dwell in the hearts of all those who step inside her hallowed square. Gives us life. Gives us power. And, when we are finished with her most sacred rites, she shows her favor to the most worthy.”

The Black Fang stepped back as let the referee make her way in, stepping in between them and getting ready for the match proper. She looked a bit weary about being in the ring with Mikki, but she managed to allay her fears for the time being.

”I say that I am the most worthy disciple in this ring, Mikki Wylde! I say that I am better than  you, and more deserving of Paleastra’s gifts! I say that, when all is said and done, I will pin your shoulders to mat for three seconds! I, the Black Fang, can pin anyone, make her submit, or knock her unconscious.” She started to crouch and bounce on her heels, licking her lips with anticipation. ”If you disagree, come over here and prove me wrong.”

With that, the Black Fang tossed the microphone away and kept her eyes locked forward. In her mind, they’d said all they needed to say.

Verbally. Now came the part where they spoke volumes with their bodies.

Mikki got a few moments to pace, to let her body seemingly pulse, while she waited for Black Fang to begin her rebuttal. To the masked young woman's credit, she got right back into it. Didn't back down an inch, didn't hesitate or lose a beat. Instead, Fang threw herself right back into the mix, just as melodramatic and ostentatious as she'd been when this whole thing began. Mikki liked it, feeding off the energy, but she did her best not to let it show.

Instead, Mikki "sold" each word and phrase coming off of Black Fang's mic as a blow to the face. Her bewilderment was somewhat real, at least; this girl's devotion to her "goddess," wether real or something she was doing for some kind of attention-grabbing gimmick, was admirable. Even with the large-framed, muscle-bound and wild-haired Wylde Child screaming in her face, Fang didn't miss a beat.

In an instant, Mikki knew that she had, indeed, chosen the ideal time to step out from backstage. An opponent like this wasn't going to come along every day, and the "Macho Chick" wouldn't have forgiven herself, if she'd missed this one. This was a debut worthy of the Wylde Child, she thought.

When Fang had said her entire piece, the muscle-bound Mikki reeled back. The Wylde Child's rainbow hair shook and shimmered in the arena lights, as her head jerked back in disbelief.

"Then step up, Jackie," Mikki shouted into the microphone, her spit hitting the hard mesh, "and hope that your goddess! Will have mercy on you, in that ring! Because, the Wylde Child, shall not!" Mikki spiked the mic hard against the mat, then, the thing giving off a painful, tinny vibration as it rolled away from the two women.

Mikki herself stepped up into Black Fang's personal space. The Wylde Child thrust her chest hard against Fang, trying to push her back with a bump, as she turned her face down on the smaller woman and hung her long, bright locks over her head. If Fang fell back, Mikki would follow along with her, stepping close. Otherwise, she would just bring her body flush with the shorter woman, trying to allow only the barest amount of light between the two of them.

From there, Mikki would roll her muscular shoulders, letting the light catch off her skin as her powerful body loomed over Fang. Her arms twitched, even as they remained at her sides. Biceps flexed and released, Mikki's hands clenching and un-clenching. It looked for all the world as though Mikki would, at any moment, bring in some kind of attack, looking ready to escalate their challenge into a physical confrontation at any point in time. Black Fang had been such a strong presence on the mic, now it was time to see how she held up under the threat of physical intimidation.