A Volatile Mix

It was a rarity for the Rodriguez siblings to be seen in the Tension gym these days. While they’d frequented it often when they started up, Carmen had acquired a gym of her own since then, and had little reason to come by these facilities. Not that the place was lacking, the AFW never skimped on equipment for its people, but they own place was more convenient, closer, and more suited to their fighting style. Also, it was less prone to random wrestling matches breakout in the middle of it.

Today, however, it was undergoing a few renovations, getting it up to snuff for an inspection next month, which meant that Carmen had to cancel classes for the day and find somewhere else to get her routine in, along with Army.  The Tension gym was the only logical choice, though she would’ve settled for just about anywhere. She had an abundance of steam to blow off, and she needed this.

She and Army had managed to secure one of the gym’s ring, and were going at it in the middle of the room, locked in a fierce spare - fierce on Carmen’s end, anyway. She was going hard, throwing out tight combinations, chasing him around the ring, keeping the pressure up.

Army was just kind of letting it happen, honestly.

Sure, he would retaliate every now and then, do enough to keep her at bay and make her work for it, and he kept his guard on point, knowing she could and would do some real damage despite the training gloves. But for the most part he stayed on the defensive.

Carmen was in one of her moods. He could see it on her face, through the shadows of her headgear. It had been the same face she had on when she broke up with Diana...and broke up with Akino...and got thrashed by Dasher. That ‘shut up and fight’ look. The look that just needed an outlet to vent on, and he just happened to make a good target for it.

It was something he just had to wade through, and there wasn’t any alternative for it. Like being caught in a storm without an umbrella. Just had to wait for it all to blow over.

The pair that walked through the gym doors was an odd one. It consisted of a tall, well built woman and a slightly smaller man. The woman was a muscular red head and was wearing clothes appropriate for a workout at the gym, consisting mostly of a sports bra and track pants. Her companion however, seemed like he was from another world. His entire outfit seemed to consist of only black clothes with red highlights, including a heavy jacket that covered his compress shirt, the closest thing to proper gym attire he was wearing.

Though the two walked in together side by side, it was clear to anyone that looked at them they were only somewhat close. While the woman checked in at the front, the man seemed to look around the gym awkwardly, as if he had never been to the gym before and was just experiencing it for the first time. Anyone could tell he was purposefully trying to put some distance between himself and his companion.

Their names were Akane and Drake, both of which were the closest thing the other had to a “friend”. Akane clearly had an attitude, her quick, curt replies to the receptionist’s questions and her aggressive body language suggested she had just gotten out of a heated argument. Drake seemed used to it all, his body language was relaxed, looking more like he was frustrated by being there than anything else.

As soon as the receptionist gave Akane keys to a locker, she turned around to face Drake.

“I mean, what kind of guy does that? A disgusting sicko, that’s what kind!”

She seemed to continue on with her rant, Drake only half listening. Finally, when there was a break in words, he interrupted her. A slight tone of irritation was in his voice.

“Akane, that’s all well in good, but I have to ask why you called me out here. You know I have a fairly busy schedule nowadays.”

“Busy, huh? Is that what you call hiding in your room for almost two weeks straight? What’s up with that? You get your ass beat for the whole internet to see and then you run off and hide in your closet or something? You got a problem, suck it up and face it like a man.”

Despite the abuse, Drakes expression didn’t change. He knew Akane and knew how aggressive she could be when mad. It was best just to take it all with a grain of salt and move on with business.

“You called me for a reason, I assume you need help with something. What is it?”

Akane seemed to straighten up, “I’ll tell you after my workout.” Akane and Drake had a “Quid pro Quo” type of relationship, and she had yet to think of what she could do to get Drake to help her with her problem. The workout was a stalling method. “I gotta put my stuff away. Go find me an open machine, we can talk once I get over there.”

With that, Akane went into the women’s locker room, leaving a frustrated Drake to roam the surprisingly empty gym floor. The only people that seemed to be there so early in the day was two fighters in one of the gyms rings.

Out of sheer boredom, Drake strolled over to the ring. Watching the fighters spare with only a little bit of interest. One of the fighters was really laying into the other one, and Drake was wondering how far he would go until they both decided to stop. His eye was studying their stances more than their faces, and he had yet to recognize either of them for who they were.

Shit.

That was single word that went through Army’s head when he saw who was entering the room. He’d been busy working Carmen, doing his best to fend out a flurry of jabs she was sending his way, when his eye was suddenly drawn to the entrance. It took him all of half a second - and cost him taking a punch to the face - to recognize the oddly dressed guy who’d just made his way through the twin doors. Drake was here. Of all the people who could’ve came in, of all the wrestlers who could’ve been using this room at any given time, it had to be him.

He tried not to give it too much thought and focus on the spar, both because he didn’t want to get his head caved in and because he figured the guy would go about his own business. But nope. He just had to come straight towards the ring and watch. Standing there. Staring. Not leaving.

Shit.

Army tried to keep Carmen from facing his way as much as possible, did his best to let her wail away and stay on target, but the headgear didn’t mess up her peripheral vision nearly enough. She caught a glimpse of him in the corner of her eye, and from there it was all over.

”You.” She spun about to face him and ripped the headgear off, making sure she saw her. ”What are you doing here, Drake?” The way she spoke, she could’ve fit a ‘fuck’ into that sentence, easily.

Behind her, Army just groaned, knowing full well this wasn’t going to end well for anyone involved.

What little interest Drake had in the fight was quickly waning. The two fighters were good, but since they were just sparring one seemed to be holding back, causing a pattern to emerge. The smaller man kept pushing the taller one, causing him to be on the defensive almost the whole time. For every punch the taller man blocked, it seemed like his opponent had two more headed his way. He maintained his defense, but that was all he did. Block, backup, repeat. It was boring, and Drake’s eye began to wander elsewhere, looking for something else that could keep his interest.

Just as he was turning away to leave, the fight stopped suddenly. The smaller man seemed to turn towards Drake, just becoming aware of his presence. The one word that came like the beginning of a thunder storm was enough to get Drake to turn to look at it’s source. His eye, which before was filled with boredom and a hint of contempt, widened in surprise when he saw that after taking off the headgear the man was actually a woman. To his further shock, the woman was none other than Carmen Rodriguez, an opponent he had fought in a back-alley match just two weeks prior.

“Ms. Rodriguez?” Drake said, slightly confused about why she was there in front of him.

His confusion didn’t last long. He gave her a smile reminiscent to the one he gave when they first met. To anyone who hadn’t seen it before it could easily come of as genuine, but to Carmen it was meant almost to mock her in a subtle way.

“What a pleasant surprise. And you remember me…I’m flattered.” Drake had little interest in Carmen, something his tone of voice conveyed plainly for anyone to hear. He ignored her question as well, at least for now. Rather, his eye and interest were on the taller man standing behind her. Had he just groaned?

“So, would it be wrong to assume you would be Armando Rodriguez? The small-time pickpocket that was “saved” by his father?” the head gear slightly obscured the mans face, but then again, Drake didn’t really know what Carmen’s brother looked like. “I would say it was nice to meet you, but I don’t see you being stupid enough to believe such an obvious lie. And besides,” Drake said with a slight shrug of his shoulders,” I know everything I need to about you just from my research. Simply put, you’re like your sister, but worse in just about every aspect I can think of.”

There was a slight hint of confidence in his words, as if everything he said was proven long ago and he could validate it. There was no proof for such a thing, but that would make his smug confidence all the more annoying.

Drake finally turned back to Carmen, looking straight into her eyes. His tone seemed to change with a flick of a switch, with what was once a somewhat business-like tone to one of an adult who was speaking to a crying child, talking down to her in an insulting manner.

“What’s the matter, Carmen? Why do you look so mad at me? Are you still angry because of what I said about your daddy and his little traditions he shoved down your throats? Or maybe your still digging sand out of certain places?”

It was clear he was daring her, but even he doubted she would do anything. Most of this was simply for fun, and though he had no problem getting in a fight right there and then, he doubted it would happen. He did keep his eye on “Army” however, knowing how hot headed he could be.

--

Akane had just walked out of the locker room and was scanning the gym floor for the man she came with. It didn’t take her long, the stupid black and red outfit he always wore made him stick out like a sore thumb in anything short of a cosplay convention.
He was standing a few feet away from a ring, conversing with two fighters that must have just finished sparing. He seemed to know them, which Akane found odd since Drake only ever seemed to know business contacts or goons that will do anything for a quick paycheck. The fighters didn’t look like either of these types. In fact, when Akane looked closer at the situation, one of the fighters was clearly ticked off, maybe even angry.

A smile crept across Akane’s face. She knew Drake better than most, and if he made someone angry she knew he would try and egg them on to try and do something about it. He was incredibly petty that way. She was a bit surprised that he would be doing it to both of them, but maybe he figured since she was here she would come to meet with him any minute, providing backup.

Akane simply crossed her arms and leaned against a wall, deciding to watch what might unfold. If things got ugly, sure she would step in and help Drake. She needed a favor from him, and what better way to insure she got it than asking after rescuing him from a serious butt kicking? But until then, it might be fun to watch the three of them squirm a bit.

This wasn’t going to go well. Army could tell that right from the start. While he didn’t know Drake and the cameras in the match hadn’t picked up what they were saying well enough for him to understand all of what the guy had said, Carmen’s two week bitching binge had been more than enough for him to get the gist. He was a jerk, he was cocky, he liked to go for the low blows, both in the fight and with his words. Army knew the type. He’d fought a lot of the type back in Puerto Rico. Some people would even say he was the type, and he’d disagree.

Whatever. It was Carmen’s thing. He was willing to sit back and let it be Carmen’s thing. She was grown woman. She had it.

But then Drake, for whatever reason, had to go and start talking to Army. He had much to say, as it turned out. A lot of bullshit, from whatever research he’d been doing. Army wasn’t sure whether he should’ve been flattered or creeped out at being ‘studied’ by a guy like this, but he was damn sure pissed off above all else, and he wasn’t in a mood to let it go, either.

”Look, Drake.” Carmen pointed a warning finger his way. ”You need to stop talking about things you know nothing about, before-”

”Before he gets his head caved in, that’s what.” Army stepped forward and looked down on the smartest, resisting the strong urge to just jump out and start wailing on the guy. ”You got a problem, cyclops? Come in the ring, let’s talk about it? Carmen kicked your ass up and down the alley, maybe you’ll have better luck with me, huh?”

He could feel the air from Carmen’s groan on his back. ”Army-”

”No, no.” He shook his head and leaned over the rope, pointing his glove Drake’s way. ”This fucker thinks he knows us so well, let him put it to the test.”

Akane was watching the scene unfold with pleasure. It seemed her companion was stirring the pot quite feverishly, with fine results. It seemed both of the fighters were getting involved now.

The group seemed to be getting into it. A bit too into it. The taller fighter seemed like he was about to get out and start something. Akane could tell the guy was basically a wall of muscle and that there was no way Drake would stand a chance in a fair fight. But that was the thing about Drake, he never fought a fair.

Still, better safe than sorry.

After some mumbling about the show being cut short, she began to walk over towards Drake, hearing more and more of the sharp words he was throwing their way. She would stop just behind Drake arms folded across her chest. She wouldn’t say anything, a bit uncomfortable hopping into such a heated conversation when she didn’t even know these people.
--
“Cyclops?”

Drake shook his head, already disappointed. It was true he didn’t like people bringing up his eye as it was a rather sensitive topic for him, but that didn’t stop others from doing so. He had grown up with all sorts of harsh nicknames, “Cyclops” being the second most common next to “One Eye”. He didn’t expect Army to be a poet, but an insult as generic as his left Drake feeling more pity than hurt.

“Let’s get something straight, Army.” A smug smile was plastered to Drake’s face, “I really couldn’t care less about you. You’re a hot headed, predictable, uninteresting add-on of a human being. I only know of you because of your sister, and I truly believe the only reason you’re here right now is because Daddy wanted a boy. So…”

Drake turned away and literally turned his blind eye to Army, “Unless you make it interesting, the adults are talking. If you don’t mind, please continue to sit in your sister’s shadow and be quiet.”

His remaining eye flicked towards Carmen, “Ms. Rodriguez, please keep a tighter leash around your sibling. I’m sure the last thing you need is for him to go off on a temper tantrum.”

It was at this point Akane appeared behind Drake. While she didn’t say a word, she began to eye Army, watching him in particular.

Army wasn’t unused to trash talk. It was a key weapon in any worthwhile boxer’s toolkit, and it was something that he’d grown even more used to in wrestling, where you had a war of words to go along with every other move in the ring. On face, he shouldn’t have been that moved by the stuff Drake was throwing out. It was the usual fare. Different to hear it coming from a guy and not a woman, yes, but not unexpected.

Something about Drake was hitting home, though. The guy had a way of talking about things he didn’t know about as if he did know about them, which made him an easy man to punch in the face. He almost felt sorry for giving Carmen grief about losing it with him, now. He was like a shit magnet, just drawing it out of anyone close to him.

Carmen was just about to take the forefront and make a play to ignore Drake, but the last comment struck a nerve with Army, filled him with the needed to deal with this more directly. He dropped down and rolled out of the ring, promptly putting himself in Drake’s personal space, eager to put him in his place.

And then she came in.

At first Army just thought she was a passerby, someone who was getting closer to this thing than she really should’ve, but he changed his mind on that when she made his way over to them, coming up behind Drake. She knew the guy, he could tell that much, but he couldn’t even guess what the relationship was.

She was tall. Built. A wrestler, too, if he had to guess, one with way more muscle than about 95% of the AFW roster, men and women included. He didn’t think she was bigger than him, but he’d have to bust out the measuring tape to be sure.

Oh, and her chest was huge. Army thought he’d been in the AFW long enough that he was immunized to titshock, but there he was. Couldn’t help a little stare.

”Who’s this, your girl?” He nodded her way as Carmen started to slip out of the ring, coming through the ropes to join them. ”You gonna hide behind her, let her do all the fighting for you?”

As soon as Army dropped down to exit the ring, Drake hands subtly went to his pockets. He had expected Army to do something, and it looked like his sharp words had hit just the right nerves on the hot-headed sibling. Drake really wasn’t all that worried, as his hands felt a number of things he could use if he needed to. His keys, a handful of loose change, pen and notepad, all of it could have its use.

Drake’s amused face was gone, instead replaced with the blank, cold gaze he so often had. He took a single step back, wanting this invader out of his personal space. His slight retreat made him bump into Akane, whom must have just walked over. The two shared a glance, but their attention quickly turned back to the man in front of them. Though Drake would never say it, it was nice knowing his old gang-boss was there to help him out if he needed it. It would cost him, sure, but that’s how it works.

Funny enough, after all of Army’s heated insults, it was his question that got the most reaction out of both Drake and Akane. The two seemed insulted that they had been mistaken for a couple, and the pair of them were giving Army a nasty look.

“I’m not his girl, and if you have a question for me ask me yourself, shit-for-brain.” Akane had caught the mans eyeline, and though she wasn’t shy about her breasts that didn’t mean she liked it when some punk stared so obviously at them. The guy just met her, and he was just threatening one of her “friends” after all.

Akane noticed the other fighter exit the ring, and with a closer look at her face, recognition flashed in her eyes. That was the woman Drake fought with a few weeks back and lost to. No wonder he was stirring them up so much. Akane would walk over to the woman, hand extended,

“Hi there, you must be that woman Drake moaned about for so long. My names Akane, I’m the closest thing a guy like him has to a friend. I always wanted to beat his ass myself, so you got to tell me how it felt! Was he shocked when you pulled through his sand trick? Did he get pissed?”

Meanwhile, Drake simply watched, making sure Akane had positioned herself correctly in between Carmen and her brother. Once she was in place, he turned back to Army, his smug smile returning,

“I meant what I said, Army. I’m sure you don’t disagree you’re the weaker of the two siblings. But, if you insist on a fight, I have to ask something of you.” Drake gestured towards Army’s headgear and gloves, “Take your sad Pussy Pads off. I would hate for you to talk so big, but then need novice gear to get through a fight. Or maybe you need your big sis to get them off for you?”

Drake would wait to see if Army took off his gear, and if he did so, he would attack while Army was preoccupied with his gear. He would look at Carmen just before he did it, a look in his eye that practically screamed “watch this!”

With that, he would launch at his unprepared opponent, looking to deliver a kick underneath the belt that would deliver maximum damage with minimal respect and effort.

This was all getting confusing for Carmen in a hurry.

A moment ago, she’d been dealing with Drake, one of the last people on the entire planet she wanted to deal with, now or ever. Part of the entire reason she took a small hiatus away from the ring was to hit a reset button after all, to take a step back from all the feuds and rivalries that came with wrestling. Less than three weeks back in, and she’d made a new.

Or two new ones, because it looked like Drake had some managed to make a friend. A native friend, if the name was any indication, though it was hard to tell with all the red hair she was sporting. This Akane was a loud one, bursting with energy, seemed a lot more straightforward than Drake could ever dream of being.

And yes, she did have a huge chest. Carmen wanted to give him guff for staring, but she couldn’t lie, she was doing the same thing. Just being more subtle about it.

She managed to bring her gaze up - with some difficulty - when Akana came over for a shake, returning the gesture. Carmen didn’t respond right away, though, unsure how to even taken what the fiery redhead was saying. They were friends? Really? That had to be a strange relationship, with the vibes she was getting. How did they even cross paths in the first place? She seemed a little too happy-go-lucky to be anywhere a guy like Drake would be.

Interesting questions, and she might’ve asked them while answering Akane’s. But, just then, things got crazy.

Army had just been working his gear off, answering Drake’s taunt, when the jerk lashed out and hit her brother with a lower, kicking him straight between the legs. Army’s roar of anguish filled the gym and brought him down to his knees, but Carmen’s instinct kicked in before he could go all the way down.

She pushed Akane out of the way, leaped forward, and threw a hard right cross into Drake’s face.

Drake’s kick hit dead on, causing his larger opponent to experience an indescribable amount of pain. Despite the success, there was no pleasure to be read on Drake’s face. In fact, Army’s pained scream seemed to annoy Drake, his one visible eye narrowing at the increase of volume.

“Now sit, like a good dog.” Drake muttered, retracting his foot and letting Army fall to the floor. He was turning to leave thinking he had made his point when his eye caught movement coming straight for him. He didn’t have to guess what it was.

Muscle memory kicked in as Drakes arm shot up to protect his eye, itself taking the full brunt of the cross, but the sheer strength of it caused him to stumble a few steps backwards, away from both Army and Carmen. Drake’s eye was watching Carmen, calculating…

It was a rather telling moment about how strong each groups relationship was. When Carmen saw her brother in trouble and pain, she immediately went to dispatch the threat, putting Drake on defense. When Akane saw her “friend” being struck by a near surprise attack, she simply stood there and watched, a bit of a smile still on her face as she slowly strolled closer to the action, though not close enough to get involved just yet.

Like he said earlier, Drake couldn’t care less about Army. The reason he even did what he did was to get the annoying man out of the equation, and possibly humble him. In Drake’s mind, if he was dumb enough to let emotions get the better of him, than Army deserved what he got.

The tension in the air was thick, two enemies watching each others slightest movements.

“Stay out of this. He wanted a fight, I gave it to him, simple as that. If he’s the type that’s all talk, that’s not my problem and if he needs his big sister to finish a fight for him he isn’t worth my time.”

Drake showed no remorse, his tone was businesslike, like he was talking about a paper jam rather than a person.