Head Bangers

It was all, frankly, exhilarating. Ophelia had figured her ways of wild nights and dodging the cops were behind her. This was supposed to be nothing more then a brief interlude before she settled into the daily grind. Now she was outpacing patrol cars, chased by the haunting wail of the Japanese police sirens, following her new partner-in-crime into uncharted territory, the forbidden places where the mundanes never thread and where those who dwell in the shadows might find refuge.

She let out a laugh when they were safe, panting to catch her breath, aware of her heart hammering against her chest. The only downside? There was no way in hell she was going to get any sleep this morning, not even for a couple of hours. Oh well... a little insomnia never hurt anyone, and it was great for the creative process. She'd written some of her best work while sleep deprived and hopped up on red-bull.

"Wrestling? Yeah, if you can believe that. Had a part-time deal with a little indy promotion that ran in the northeast. Never meant for it to be a big deal, but when I go into something, I don't go half-ass." Ophelia sighed, staring out into the dark of early morning. "Then the big promotion out here, AFW? They buy my old company out and offer some of the talent a chance to come out here and join. Things were shit back home... so I came here. New start. Clean slate.

It's a weight off my shoulders, starting fresh, but you never think about the downsides until after the fact. Like havin' to prove your worth all over again, but this time in a place you don't know. Well, doesn't matter now. At this point, my mission in life is to get back to my apartment with enough time to shower before my appointment with the AFW main office."

Styx’s first inclination was to ask her if she wanted any company in that shower of hers, but she managed to keep those words in for the moment. Sex, if there was any to be had, could wait for a few minutes. Right now, she was thinking more along the lines of business.

”Fucking kidding me.” Styx snorted and shook her head. ”You and me are part of the same outfit. Joined up with the AFW a couple years back, been wreaking havoc ever since. Funny how life turns out.”

Come to think of it, it probably wasn’t all that unlikely, considering how many wrestlers went the AFW on an average year. Still, it was more providence than she was used to in her life.

”You know…” She ran a thumb across her chin and looked Ophelia over. ”I got a little outfit in the company, a little group with two other...like-minded girls.” She felt the darker tone in her voice explained what she was implying well enough. ”If you want to start up with some extra muscle, we’ve got spots open.”

She paused, then took a step forward, letting her shadow cast over Ophelia in the moonlight. ”If you measure up, that is.”

There were brief moments, usually right after a good shot of adrenaline fueled excitement when, head cleared, you saw everything with perfect clarity. Ophelia was having one of those moments as the weight of her current situation slowly dawned on her sleep deprived brain. She was in an isolated area, with a woman with an obvious inclination towards violence whom she didn't really know. Someone who was not only bigger then her, but who also fought for a living. It was the sort of situation that could go very bad, very quickly.

But if Ophelia Black was the type to back down from anything or anyone, she wouldn't be here now. She would never have gotten involved in the first place. Furthermore, the offer Styx presented had merit. She'd been in the business long enough to see the darker side of pro wrestling. It could be alot like diving into a shark tank with a fresh, bleeding wound. It paid to have at least one solid girl watching your back. More then one was even better, and if their M. O. was fucking shit up, that suited her punk rock heart just fine.

Then, Styx stepped forward, a looming, dark presence casting an even darker shadow. Ophelia's heart sped up, instinctively, as if her senses couldn't determine if she was in danger or not and that fight or flight response was revving up just in case.

"I'm interested." She said, half her face completely shadowed. The other half caught the moonlight, making her skin look even paler and gave her eye a reflective gleam.

"What do I need to do?"

Styx’s slasher smile came and went, but now it was slowly leeking back, as she noticed the way Ophelia responded. She wasn’t backing down. Didn’t seem to have the fear that a lot of woman in her position would’ve. Being alone in a secluded area with River Styx was rarely a good thing for one’s health.

No, no, she was cool and collected, or doing a good job of pretending to be. It gave credence to her being a wrestler, at least, and showed she wasn’t some pampered wannabe looking to make a quick buck on the scene. There were other ways to prove that, though.

Styx leaned forward, lowering herself until their forehead touched and she was pushing Ophelia’s head back, like two rams meeting in the field. ”Fight me.” Even in shadow, Styx’s wild gaze seemed to glow. ”Here. Now. Don’t even have to beat me, just...survive.”

One interesting side effect of being sleep deprived and threatened with physical harm while being stone cold sober? Ophelia found her senses heightened to the utmost, hyper aware of.... everything. The cool, humid air of early morning caressing her pale skin and the mournful wailing of distant police sirens. The crunch of gravel and broken concrete beneath the soles of her boots. Most of all, Styx, who's forehead felt like a grinding weight threatened to push her backwards. She could feel the heat of her body as clearly as if they were plastered against each other on the shower scene River had envisioned earlier. Ophelia could smell the sweat from their earlier exercise in the parking lot and the desperate run that followed.

Through it all one thought, born more of instinct then reason, rose to the forefront of her consciousness. There was no backing down.

She was staring into the eyes of an apex predator and the only way out would be to prove, here and now, that she wasn't prey. Even if Styx let her walk away without a fight, an extreme uncertainty in itself, a retreat now would dog Ophelia all the way back to the promotion where they both worked. She'd be a target, a victim, fresh meat for the bull sharks to tear limb from limb. That was something Ophelia Black could never allow. She'd rather be beaten to a bloody pulp then tuck tail and run.

And so she pushed back, hard, forehead to forehead with River Styx. It hurt, and Styx had the advantage of leverage, but Ophelia pushed back anyway, just to show her resolve. "You wanna slam dance? I'm game. I'll do anything for a fan."

She offered an almost feral grin before attempting to drop fluidly to one knee and wrap her arms around the bigger woman's right leg. In the same, seamless motion Ophelia would seek to press her weight forward and drive her shoulder into Styx ribs and knock River to the ground with single-leg take-down. Outwardly, Ophelia might have seemed like some indy musician playing at being a fighter, but in this case Miss Black was a wrestler 'before' she was a pro-wrestler. Hell, she was a wrestler before she was a musician.

There was something primal about the moment, a tribal aspect that Styx couldn’t help but recognize as she butted heads with her potential ally. It was all in the body language. She was the one throwing out an unspoken challenge, getting in Ophelia’s face and pressing her to respond. Though there was no one around, it was still a power play. They would know who was the dominant one, who was in control, and the relationship between them would be shaped by what came next. Styx was presenting violence, and it all came down on her new ‘friend’ to respond.

And she did not disappoint.

Hell, if anything, Styx found that Ophelia exceeded expectations. She was thinking that they’d back off after the challenge was accepted, prepare a bit, warm up and then came at each. Nope. The rocker-turned-wrestler came at her right from the start, full throttle, and it wasn’t even in the typical way.

Styx had a weight advantage - she pretty much always did - but there was only so far that could get her against the element of surprise and good technique, two things that Ophelia clearly brought to the table. One moment Styx was standing, the next she was falling to the floor with her opponent on top of her, hitting the freshly hardened concrete

Pain. A little lust. She was wide awake, now.

Styx retaliated in her typical way, responding to the more professional attack with a savage response - she grabbed Ophelia’s head with one hand and threw an elbow into her face with the other, aiming for the nose.

Just getting the bigger girl off her feet was an accomplishment, but Ophelia knew the real contest was just beginning, and it was going to hurt like hell. There was no way to avoid that. She'd seen what River Styx could do in a street fight with her own eyes. What's more, she'd been in enough fights to know that her best chance of surviving, let alone beating Styx meant charging right into the jaws of the beast. The exact opposite of what most sane people would do.

Then again, most rational individuals would have bugged out at the first sign of that creepy, slashers smile.

Ophelia straddled Styx right leg instead of her waist, wedging her thigh between Rivers own to make it harder for the other woman to get back to her feet. Unfortunately, it left the straightedge rocker in the exact same boat, and with nowhere to go when Styx grabbed her head and leveled an elbow at her nose.

She jerked her face to the side, taking the blow right below her left eye socket. The sound of muscle, sinew and bone colliding seemed overloud, the sound exploding through her head along with the fresh pain. "Ungh!" Fuck! If the AFW office wanted her to cut a promo today she was going to have some hellish bruise to explain.

She shoved the unbidden thought away. Crazy the shit that pops into one's head in the middle of a fight. Her head spun, she could feel the wild, uncompromising strength of the woman beneath her and instinct told her to get away, pull loose, put some distance between them. Instead, she pressed closer, in too much pain to be distracted by the crush of their bodies and the press of their breasts through flimsy tee shirts.

Black was too busy trying to jerk out of Styx grip and protect herself, paradoxically, by burying her face against her attacker, between Rivers neck and shoulder, while grabbing hold of the back of Styx head with her right hand, a sort of grounded boxers cinch.

Whether she managed to pull it off or not, Ophelia would look to lay into Styx ribs with vicious punches from her free left hand, intent on attacking until the bigger girl forcibly stopped her.

Styx was dealing out damage, and as always, she was immensely enjoying herself. Any night that ended with a fight was a good night, by her estimation, and so far it was looking like Ophelia would give her enough meat to sink her teeth into. More than that, though, she was watching and thinking and paying more attention than usual when she attempted to cave in skulls. This was an evaluation, after all.

She noticed things. Like the way Ophelia reacted when Styx hit her in the face. Most women would’ve taken the hint and backed the fuck off. That was the smart thing to do, the sensible thing, especially after taking a blow that hard - Styx had handed out enough shiners in her lifetime know that Ophelia would be sporting a fresh one in her near future.

But not this one. If anything, getting hammered in the face made her more aggressive, as if she was eager to suck up more of what Styx was dishing out. Lack of concern over personal health, strong desire to deal damage over self-preservation instincts. Good traits.

She didn’t let the wild position she was in stop her from using it to her advantage, either. Styx found herself grunting with punch she took the ribs, as each one sent a jolt of pain running through her midsection. Nasty things, and Ophelia dolled them out in rapid-fire procession. Something was cracking down there.

”Not bad.” Styx dipped down, opened her mouth, and gave Ophelia a savage bite on the neck, digging in deep with her fangs, before she jerked hard to the side and tried to toss her off her, trying to make some distance between them so she could stand up once more. This MMA shit was never her thing, really, and Ophelia seemed fairly skilled at it. Best not to tempt fate.

Perhaps in a more controlled environment, like an actual shoot style match with actual rules, she might have been able to maintain her position indefinitely. On the ground was where Ophelia was most dangerous, and it almost never failed to take newer opponents off guard. A street fight was another matter entirely, something she was painfully reminded of as Styx teeth sunk into her neck, drawing a cry of pain from her lips and allowing the bigger woman to shove Ophelia off.

She rolled a couple of feet away after hitting the concrete, scraping her fingers against the rough surface as sge scrambled to her feet. Not where she preferred to be against Styx, but whatever. She knew it would come down to this. She brushed her fingers gingerly where she'd been struck, feeling the beginning of swelling.

"Not bad? Not bad yourself..." Ophelia raised her fists. She angled her body to the side, presenting as slim a target as possible. "What else've you got for me?"

Good, that worked. Styx had her off, and she no longer had to worry about getting her skull pounded into the unfinished pavement. Now, onto step two.

As Ophelia was seeming to suggest, it was her turn to dish out the pain, and while they weren’t quite finished here - and might not be, until she said so - this wouldn’t have been a test without fully seeing what the metal wrestler could take. So far she was reminding Styx a lot of a smaller, thinner Alicia, and she was curious to see if she had the muscle to back up all this talk.

Styx moved back to her feet a moment later, nodded Ophelia’s way to confirm she was heard, then moved forward like a raging bull, bringing the same ferocity she would’ve had in the ring to this little ‘spar’. Her blow came in long and wide, a looping haymaker from the right, and it bore all the hallmarks of you typical River Styx attack: sloppy, heavy, and with more than enough force to knock just about anybody this side of Rebecca Tomko on their ass.