Head Bangers

There was only one sane thing to do when River Styx was charging you down like a raging bull, you got the hell out of the way before you were trampled and gored. Ophelia was ready to dodge... or at least make the attempt, until a new thought gave her pause. This was a fight, yes, but it was also a test, an appraisal. She'd demonstrated some of her grappling ability. She'd shown that she was quick on her feet. Shouldn't she also show what she could take? And so, instead of avoiding the attack, Ophelia choose to block.

She brought her arms up to shield her face, and while it blunted some of the impact the sheer concussive force of the impact was enough to send her careening backwards. She slammed into a concrete support beam and crumpled to the ground.

"Fuck..." She moaned, rolling onto her back, the world rocking like a ship tossed by a violent storm. She'd cut herself at the corner of her left eye, a trail of dark blood oozed from the wound in single black teardrop.

A second later she was sitting up, climbing to her feet, in obvious pain but not letting it stop her. After all, that's what life was all about in the end. Pain... suffering... and she drank it all in. There'd be no alcohol to numb the senses, no painkillers unless she ended up in the hospital, too unaware to object. She was straight edge, and she'd take it, because life was pain, and Ophelia Black had learned to love drinking tears.

She stared at at Styx with wild, almost manic eyes through the curtain of raven hair that'd fallen into her face. She smiled, then did what she always did when pushed into a corner, she attacked, lunging forward with a straight right, a dead center solar plexus shot, followed immediately by a right hook to Styx face whether the first punch struck home or not.

Her attack was pretty much the polar opposite of Styx own, far more precise, a surgeons scalpel as opposed to a chainsaw.

Huh. She blocked it.

Even as Styx launched her attack, her eyes widened in surprise to see that. Ophelia was fast, obviously, and she could've swerved around it if she wanted. Which could only mean that she wanted to take the blow, probably trying to impress Styx and show how ballsy she was.

Well, it worked. Styx liked what she was seeing from her potential recruit. Wouldn’t stop her from capitalizing on it, though.

She moved in to do just that, when she was stopped by the sudden sight of two demonic pearls in the middle of Ophelia’s face. Good stare. Nice and wild. Looking straight at her. It was enough to put a pause in Styx’s steps, and that was enough time for the real attack to get in.

She was big and she was thick and she was strong, but a strike to the solar plexus wasn’t something she could shrug off. That knocked the wind out of Styx and sent her staggering, bending over and putting her face in a prime spot for…

”Unh!”

...a hook to the face, which came swiftly after and cracked her clean in the jaw. It would’ve knocked a normal woman clean off her feet, maybe even put her to sleep. With Styx, it brought her too her knees and left her stunned for a few seconds. Precious seconds.

If Ophelia had been thinking clearly, rationally, something other then her current state of brain rattled and sleep deprived, she have had the good sense to be terrified. Her attack has been successful, her punches had landed with all their intended impact, including a blow to the jaw that should have been good for a knockout...

... and the woman with her shaved head and a serial killers smile was still on her feet. She should have been on her back, instead she was only on one knee, still a threat.

Ophelia wasn't thinking, however. She was like a cornered animal, all reaction and muscle memory, and that's what drove her to take advantage of those precious few seconds. She stepped forward and to the side, using Styx position on one knee to slip behind the bigger woman. Given the chance, Ophelia would seek to wrap an arm around Styx throat from behind and wrap her legs around the bruisers waist, prepared to hang on for dear life.

What would a sensible person do in Ophelia’s position?

Styx was down, for a moment, yeah, but she wasn’t out by any definition. She’d be up soon, and the sane course of action would be to back off, take the opportunity to regroup and catch your breath. For a second, the bald brawler thought that was the route Ophelia was going to take.

Then she felt the arm around her neck, the legs around her waist, and she was reminded of the reason she stayed in Japan: it had a habit of tossing crazy women her way, and she fucking loved it.

That being said, she wasn’t about to just lay back and let Ophelia choke her out in the middle of some random-ass construction site. She thrashed around like a wild mare, desperate to get the monkey off her back...until she realized that she didn’t have to.

Without a second thought, Styx leaped up, kicked her legs out, and tried to come down right on her back. Fullweight. With Ophelia between her and the cement.

Nasty.

In retrospect, it hadn't been the most tactically sound of maneuvers, but things had already proceeded far beyond the range of sanity and it seemed like a good idea in the heat of the moment. Ophelia's grip tightened around Styx throat, legs drawing snug around the bigger girls waist, hanging on as River thrashed around, violently attempting to throw her off.
It was a wild ride, but Black held on, and for one glorious instant it seemed she might be well on her way to wearing down, and eventually finishing her opponent. That is, before Styx left her feet to throw herself backwards. There was no time for Ophelia to react before she and the concrete became more intimately acquainted.

"Urgh!!"

A muffled groan escaped Ophelia as she was smashed between the concrete and Styx own not inconsiderable weight. Just like that, it was over. The stunt that Styx pulled would have been bad enough with the bend and give of a wrestling ring. As it stood, Ophelia's offensive flurry had been stopped cold. The rocker-turned-wrestler stared upwards with glassy eyes, lips parted, her chest spasming as her breath hitched with unsuccessful attempts at filling her lungs, breasts straining against the fabric of her shirt. Her right leg twitched uselessly. She was somewhere between consciousness and not, aware of little beyond the pain that suffused through her body, feeling as if she'd been run over by one of the nearby pieces of construction equipment.

It was a sick, crushing move, there was no question about that. Styx was a hefty, heavy woman, and Ophelia was...well, she wasn’t small and she wasn’t weak, but she wasn’t anywhere near the same size.  Her body wasn’t designed to take this kind of punishment. Not all at once. Not like that.

It was a small miracle that she was even still awake in any sense of the word. And as she flittered between the land of the living and the dead, Styx hoped a question popped into her head - if this was what she did to her potential allies, what would she do to her enemies?

Whether the message had been delivered or not, Styx figured that was enough of a test. She’d gotten a good sense on what Ophelia was all about, seen what she could do, and she was pleased with the choice. Now, the only thing left was to seal the deal.

She rolled off of Ophelia, moved to her knees, and reached over the battered woman’s body to roughly yank her head up by the hair, forcing her to look Styx in the eyes. ”You pass.”

Without another word, Styx roughly brought their mouths together for a vicious, domineering kiss, practically claiming the smaller woman’s lips as her own.

Slowly the events of the past hour returned to her in fits and starts. She took a mental inventory of her stunned, battered body. Thankfully, nothing seemed broken, despite how terrible she felt. The reality of what had just happened should have sent a chill down her spine, the stark understanding of just how far River Styx was willing to go. Oddly, it didn't surprise Ophelia. That capacity for violence and extreme behavior was something she'd sensed in Styx prior. Foolish or not, crazy or not, she'd run into that fire, rather then away.

You Pass

Ophelia heard the words, but she could barely comprehend them. It took all her effort just to force her gaze to focus on Rivers, though the pain of being yanked up by her hair helped her come around.

Then, Styx kissed her, a rough, demanding embrace, and Ophelia's mouth was warm and pliant beneath the larger woman's. She couldn't have resisted even if she wanted to. Styx had staked her claim, and the raven haired rockers only response was to reach up, her finger nails digging into the back of Rivers neck hard enough to leave lines of angry welts as Ophelia kissed her back as fiercely as her limited strength allowed.

A small, insignificant part of Styx realized that it might’ve been prudent to check if Ophelia actually swung that way before she deep-throated her new teammate. A larger, more meaningful part of Styx didn’t give a shit, either way.

This was all about establishing dominance, sealing their deal better than any written agreement could’ve. Styx was in control. She wanted to make that abundantly clear. If Ophelia’s response was anything to go by, her efforts were not in vain.

It took a moment - a long, hot moment - but Styx finally forced their lips apart, biting at Ophelia’s gums as they parted. She looked over the woman with an untamed hunger in her eyes, briefly considering doing much more than a simple kiss, but decided against it. Ophelia was hurt, probably wouldn’t be that good of a lay, and she needed some sleep. They could put a bookmark in this chapter and finish it later.

”Welcome to WAR.” She reached over and gave Ophelia’s breast a roughly fondling, enjoying the feel. A little something to go to sleep on. ”I’ll be in touch.”

With that, she gave Ophelia chest a playful pat, then stood up and turned to leave, casually strolling off into the night, only occasionally stopping to rub her bruises.

Ophelia had only just begun to take a firm grip on consciousness when River Styx released her. Before that, her mouth had been soft and warm and yielding, partly out of acknowledgement that, yes, Styx was the boss, and partly from the near paralyzing pain she was in. Images from the past hour drifted before her eyes, hazy and dreamlike, until she finally came fully awake. More pain greeted her, along with the sound of Rivers retreating steps and the memory of the half promise, half threat, to be in touch.

Despite herself, Ophelia Black smiled. This wasn't how she thought her career in this new promotion would begin, but if she played her cards right, it could be a launching points for great, and terrible, things. Inspiration was best served by pain and strife, and she felt the twisted melody form in her mind, rising like a black tide, hunting and sensual, threatening to engulf her, drown her.

Or perhaps it was just pain and sleep deprivation making her completely fucking delirious. Still, a chorus came unbidden to her lips, her voice raspy.

"Drowning in the river styx, dragged down by soul damned lunatics. To pay the boatman to help me rise, I offered up my bleeding eyes."

That... was terrible. Yet there was something there... the seed of... something.

"Drowning in the river Styx....."

Ophelia lay there a time longer, low, half hysterical laughter echoing off the surrounding concrete.