Tasha Jackson vs Makoto Aihara - The Owner's Test

Tasha's debut had been a disaster.

Well, not completely though. She had made her grand entrance to AFW in the way she had been aspiring for. She had started off the match fairly well. She had won over the hearts of the audience. Everything had gone as it should have.

All up until the seeds of disaster that had been planted already prior to the match had grown into full-scale predicaments. In the heat of the moment, Tasha had agreed to turn the standard match into an ownership match. Tasha had managed to ignore the fact that Sista A seemed to have brought in a sidekick. And the sidekick was one that was not going to let Tasha escape without getting enslaved to her will.

After the sidekick, Anesthesia, had spelled some confusion onto the rookie in the ring, it had been all too easy for Sista A to brutally beat Tasha down. The Southern Twister had fallen helplessly into their trap.

But what exactly had being officially owned by Sista A meant to Tasha so far? Not much. After their final "We'll be in touch!" as the duo had been exiting the arena, Tasha had heard none from them. But she had been proven that the ownership was real. After healing her wounds from her debut, the Alabaman had made a subtle request to the management for being given another match - only to be told off with the excuse that she was currently being managed by Sista A.

For a while, Tasha had been at a loss of what to do. Did she have to contact Sista A herself? Honestly, that was the last thing she wanted to do. The memories of the night of her debut match brought back nothing but qualms of the duo.

But then, a letter had been delivered to her apartment.

"Your match will be tomorrow night at 10pm in the AFW arena. Meet me there. Prepare well. Kisses! -Anesthesia"

Nothing else.

Tasha Jackson - The Southern Twister:

Yes, Tasha had to admit she was excited about finally getting another match. But still, she couldn't help but feeling extremely worried of what was going to happen. Her experiences of Anesthesia were practically limited to a single, disgusting kiss, and Tasha was not eager to experience any more of them, not to mention anything more from her. Besides, the Southern Twister had the distinct notion that the lack of information meant that absolutely anything could happen. How was she supposed to be going to "prepare well"?

Her answer to the question had been a solid morning workout at the gym. That was all she could think of. Hopefully that was going to count as proper preparation...

Dressed in her wrestling attire, Tasha arrived to the gorilla position. It was fifteen minutes to ten. She had no idea what to expect. She was damn nervous, but determined to try hiding it from Anesthesia, or anyone else who might have been there as well as possible. "H-hello?"

Anesthesia’s past few weeks had been a smashing success.

In her dealings with [url=https://www.afwrpg.com/t17662-la-belle-dame-sans-merci?highlight=Dame]Margaux LeFeuvre[/color], she’d had come away with two new allies - the first was Margaux herself, who’s help she employed in breaking Makoto down, tearing the little darling apart until there weren’t even scraps of her former self to remain. That made it acquiring Makoto as her second ally a trivial affair, one she achieved by merely showing up to rescue her from the dark fate that was waiting.

When Anesthesia swooped in to save the day, their past history together didn’t matter. It didn't’ matter that they had been enemies in Rumble Roses, that they’d fought against each other numerous times, that Anesthesia had put her through a table or two in those halcyon days.

No. The only important thing was that Anesthesia was a friendly face, showing up in her darkest hour, and from there, it was all clockwork.

The one and only fly in her ointment was an annoying insect named ‘Benikage’, a woman who seemed to make it a life mission to ruin Anesthesia’s life missions. But that was a distant worry, something she didn’t see as a major problem. Benikage, for all her talents, was alone. Anesthesia had several assets at her disposal, one of whom she was employing today.

She had been waiting in the gorilla position for Tasha to appear, hiding in the dark corner, melding with the shadows despite her bright outfit. She apparently did an admirable job of it, too, because none of the crew had sussed out her position. Not even Tasha herself, when she arrived.

Anesthesia decided to have a little fun with that.

She moved out of the darkness and came at Tasha from behind with silent steps, doing nothing to give away her presence. Holding her breath as she leaned towards the youngsters shoulders, her lips so close to that tender ear.

”Hello.” She spoke and her hot words wafted across Tasha’s ear, along with a soft pat of the girl’s backside. Couldn’t resist.

Or perhaps she could. But why bother?

No response. How frustrating. So Anesthesia had gone through all the trouble of setting her up a match, sending her the invitation and building up the tension, only to not show up as promised? What was this all about?

Then again, it was a blessing too. Was Tasha actually eager to see Anesthesia? Not at all. Her memories of her were appalling to say the least, and she would have been glad to enter the ring without any briefing at all from her. And as she was nervous too, the Alabaman could only appreciate the chance to try calming herself down a bit, or the moment to show nervous signs without any spectators at all.

Puffing, Tasha made a circle around the gorilla position, trying to gather her thoughts. Until there was a sudden word pronounced right next to her ear, and a pat on her backside.

Tasha let out a frightened shriek, and instinctively turned around to slap the person surprising her. But she barely managed to halt the movement of her arm as she realized who that person exactly was...

"W-what's wrong with you? C-can't you just behave like normal people?" Tasha shouted in an annoyed tone, but her nervousness was still clearly audible, causing some instant regretting of her outburst. She also wasn't even sure whether she was in a position to use such words, or what kind of treatment was Anesthesia expecting from her.

But her words had been honest. Tasha couldn't deny that. And this was still her opportunity to finally gain some information. "What is this? What's up with tonight?"

The shriek was like music to her ears, and the look on Tasha’s face when she spun around was a lovely addition. That slap, however, was a tad worrisome. She stood her ground as it neared her face, and stared at Tasha until it was properly lowered. She seemed to have some understanding of her place. Good girl.

”Normal?” She brought one of the fingers that had caressed Tasha’s rear to her lips and gave it a dab of the tongue, detecting the faint taste of the young woman’s skin on her taste buds. ”The world has more than enough normal people already, dear.”

Anesthesia took a step back to both admire Tasha’s form and get a good look at it, scanning her from head to toe. It was so easy to see why Aisha had such a hard time with the woman before - she was a fit one, sturdy, and she could handle herself in the ring. Add the speed of youth to that and you came away with a formidable combination.

”Hm. Yes, you’ll do.” She had a little hum to herself before meeting Tasha’s eyes with her own, staring straight at her. [color=#ff00ff]”I’m not asking you to do anything you wouldn’t do normally, so relax.”on hips, Anesthesia strutted forward and began to walk around Tasha, skirting the edge of her personal space. [color=#ff00ff]”Makoto Aihara is a newly acquired asset of mine, a woman I’m taking under my wing. She’ll be of some use to me in the future, but before then, I need to make sure she’s in the proper mindset, that she’s grown hardened by her experiences.”

Anesthesia reached over and gave her a light tap on the chest. ”Your job is to give her a hardcore match. The hardest, most brutal match you can. Be vicious. Be ruthless. Bring out the beast in her.”

"And stop staring at me!"

Those were words Tasha would have really wanted to shout out loud, but her survival instincts had properly kicked in by now. That was most likely something she really should not say to Anesthesia, no matter how horrendous vibe she was getting out of the woman. She was not in a position to say them. And she didn't.

"What do you mean I wouldn't nor-"

And once Tasha spoke, Anesthesia clearly wasn't interested in her words. The woman's previous words had so far been confusing, revealing absolutely nothing about the events to come. But while Anesthesia interrupted her question, this time her words were actually being informative.

Makoto Aihara? Tasha thought she had heard that name before. When and where, she couldn't figure out.

"Asset of mine?" That sounded rather condescending. But exactly in line with how Anesthesia appeared to be like...

"Grown hardened by her experiences"? OK, that didn't sound fun at all... And how exactly did that relate to Tasha?

But then, finally, Anesthesia connected the dots, and revealed what tonight's match was all about. The Southern Twister's jaw dropped slightly as she was coming in terms of the nature of the match, and she didn't really know how to react.

Hardcore match? Sure, that was something Tasha could do. Especially if she got to be the one to make an evil heel fall... But it didn't sound like Makoto would be exactly like that. It sounded more like she was more of a nicer girl, that Anesthesia just wanted to corrupt to her liking... And that in turn was not really to Tasha's liking at all. She did not want to be ruthless and vicious to any kind and friendly opponents...

But then again, did that really matter? She was owned by Sista A...which apparently meant also Anesthesia. She was a wrestler who should have been ready to face any challenge. Why not this one? And she was really longing for a chance to shine in the ring, after her disastrous debut defeat to Sista A...

"OK...Sure, fine. If that's what you want. I can do hardcore. I can be brutal if that's what she's begging for. I'm up for it."

The absence of any excitement might have possibly revealed that Tasha was not exactly as eager to obey Anesthesia's requests as she was claiming, but the Alabaman had figured that the sooner she accepted Anesthesia's terms, the sooner she could get into the ring.

And the best part of that would be getting away from Anesthesia.

Anesthesia decided she liked Tasha. Petulance aside.

She was a smart girl, clearly, and her current situation came down to misfortune on her part, being the wrong person in the wrong place at the wrong time. She wouldn’t take it as a slight that there was some backtalk here and there, as she was clearly not used to following orders from her betters, not accustomed to being under control. She would be. Eventually. But these sort of things took time.

Anesthesia hoped to bring her over as her newest experiment at some point, but for the moment she would serve as an unwilling pawn, forced to dance to her whims. Most importantly for the moment, she was the sort of woman that would give Makoto a hard time - strong, tall, but not unskilled and rough, technical enough to test her. This would serve them both well.

As they spoke, even now, Makoto’s theme began to play and the crowd rose up, always happen to see one of Japan’s favorite daughters making her way to the ring, especially after such a long absence. Rumors had swirled about Makoto’s name like flies for the past few months, whispers of her being hospitalized for unknown reasons, some even saying that she might have to retire, an early end to her fledgling wrestling career.

To see her now was a relief and a joy. Win or lose, she always received the pride of her people, as they looked back fondly on her gold medals and the times she represented their country. A heroine. A role model. An icon.

None of them would’ve known it to see Makoto make her way down to the ring now. While she wore the same judoka garb that she always came down with her, her entire demeanor had changed. No longer did she smile and greet the fans, no handshakes, no high-fives, not even a glance towards them. She merely came down with a steady walk and eyes facing forward. She rolled into the ring and made her way to the corner without an ounce of fanfare, leaving perplexed fans in her wake.

From the back, Anesthesia could hear some of those confused rumblings, and they brought a knowing smile to her face. They would only be getting worse.

”Oh, I’m certain you won’t disappoint me. You’re a capable young woman. Strong. Confident.” She reached forward to run a finger down Tasha’s chest, undressing her with her eyes once more, before she gave her a slight poke. ”I believe you’re about to be up, dear. Have a good match.”

What could Tasha really expect from tonight's match?

She had no idea. Sure, Anesthesia had given her quite a few hints of what she was expecting from tonight. And in principle, Tasha knew she had to obey. She knew she shouldn't let her owner down.

But in practice, the situation was utterly conflicted.

A marked sign of that had been her choice of words while agreeing to Anesthesia's orders. "I can do hardcore." "I can be brutal if that's what she's begging for." On her opinion, those words had clearly left the backdoor open to not get utterly brutal with her opponent, in case nothing about Makoto suggested she would deserve it. To ruthlessly beat down a kind and fair opponent - no, that just wasn't her.

But then again, there were also few reasons not to obey her orders. Tasha still had the desperate need to impress the AFW crowds. She still had to show them what she could to. And she did want to win! Besides, she actually knew nothing about Makoto. She could just as well be totally deserving to get punished in a hardcore match...

Anesthesia's last words, and actions left the Alabaman in just as conflicted state. The adjectives she described her with were certainly flattering, admittedly making Tasha an inch more willing to obey her orders. But what her finger was doing on the other hand was making her an inch less willing to do so...

But apparently, it was time. Tasha a couple of steps back, before bluntly accepting her greetings. "Thanks. I will."

Grabbing her signature bottle of sweet tea, the Southern Twister started making her way towards the ring. And if Makoto's entrance had already been far from usual, the crowds could see a marked difference between Tasha's two AFW appearances as well.

Gone were the cheerfulness, eagerness, and unextinguishable energy of the entrance of her debut. They were replaced by seriousness, determinedness and worry.

The crowds were sure to realize the bizarreness of the situation. Something in this match just didn't seem right.

What also didn't seem right to Tasha was the fact that there was already someone in the ring. Was that Makoto? When had she come there already? The Alabaman had managed to get so immersed in her "discussion" with Anesthesia, that she had completely missed her opponent's entrance.

Closing in, as Tasha was taking her usual sips of her sweet tea, she was keeping her eyes nailed at the woman. Even as she had rolled into the ring, the rookie spent only a brief moment to greet the fans at each turnbuckle on her side. At all other times, she was in constant evaluation mode of what Makoto could be bringing to the match, forgetting to even observe how the ring was like tonight, and if there were any common weapons in hardcore matches potentially available.

And what did she see? A rather cute girl, or woman, whose physique seemed to be clearly inferior to her own. Dressed up in a judoka outfit, as if she had come here for a martial arts contest. Skills in those could absolutely be a threat, but they rarely took one too far in a wrestling contest. But she saw nothing that implied there would be any reason to brutally beat her down....apart from her expression that was dead serious, potentially even full of hate.

"Yo! So you're Makoto, huh? So you know what you'll be going through tonight?"

Tasha did not know. Really.

Makoto wanted to take this gi off. Now.

She’d been thinking about a lot of things lately, digesting all of what Margaux had told her in their little encounter. There was much to unpack, even if she couldn’t see it at first. In fairness, it was a bit hard to think clearly when she was sitting in a hospital bed, barely able to move or turn her head or even eat food properly. For the longest time, all she had was a seething, burning hatred for Margaux.

And she still did. But now she had the distance to think about what the vile woman had said to her, she could pick out the kernels of truth from the lies she was fed.

She called her naive. That was true.

She treated her like a fool. Makoto had been so foolish, to even let herself be drawn into such a situation.

Why was she wearing this? It was just another silly reminder of her time in the Olympics, something she’d earned and shown with pride. But this wasn’t the Olympics, this was the AFW, and it was high time she started fitting in with her environment.

So, as Tasha came down the the ring, Makoto disrobed, taking off the top and her black belt along with it. By the time she came all the way in to face, the Judo Babe was standing before her in her bra and boy shorts, with her gi tossed off into the corner, all while the crowd turned into a din of confused murmurs.

There was an alternate universe where this whole meeting went quite differently, where Tasha and Makoto met in a match without all the rigamarole of Anesthesia getting in their way, with the hellish experiences that they’d both suffered to mar their minds.

In that universe, Makoto would’ve been far more welcoming. Would’ve shake her hand, greeted her with a smile, bowed like a good little girl. In this universe, however, Makoto just stared at Tasha, eyes narrowed, and answered with two simple words.

”Do you?”

"Well no, I don't! I mean what the hell? Are you some sidekick of that crazy woman too? She told me to beat your ass, you know? And based on how you look, it'll probably be easy as hell! I mean, be honest with me! What's this all about? What are you up to? And can't we just have a fun and honest match?"

All of that Tasha wanted to say. All of that Tasha wanted to burst out in response to Makoto's question. A question, that was supposed to be an answer.

But she didn't. Instead, the Alabaman just paced from one side to another, while silently taking sips of her sweet tea. Apparently there was a scarcity of answers tonight, and for now she would just have to live with it. She was just going to have to go with the flow, see what happens, and make sure that she'd stay on top of the situation at all times. Easy, right?

"Oh, yeah, I know. Don't worry about that at all, little miss... I'm jus' warnin' you, cause I won't be easy on you, ya know?"

Tasha tried to sound as serious and convincing as she could. This was not a familiar role for her. She liked to be friendly, she was used to being the good girl. She wanted to be the luminous star.

But now, her mission was to drive the smaller girl to her limits. Torture her, if she had to. She knew she could, that wasn't an issue. She just hated it. Unfortunately, it seemed that she had no other choice, but to obey Anesthesia's orders.

Leaving her bottle of sweet tea by the corner, Tasha decided to then start approaching her Japanese foe. Makoto was distinctly smaller than her, and she wasn't afraid. She did seem like the coldest, unfriendliest and most uncaring person on earth though, which frankly, and luckily under these circumstances, just made it easier to be hard on her.

So, as the bell rang, Tasha decided to make an offer for her. "So, you like bombs? Come here and I can show you one..."

What was Tasha’s game? That was the key question in Makoto’s mind as the bell rang and they moved in to face off. Now that she had the blinders off, she was seeing a lot more of the AFW, figuring out what it truly was, she’d come to learn a few truisms. Chief among them? Everyone - everyone - had ulterior motives, had something they were looking to gain over the other women. If Makoto wanted to survive, she had to suss out what her opponent was looking for.

Tasha? She was tall, strong, proud from the look of her, though something seemed a bit...off. No doubt she was looking for an easy win, something to make her name in the company, but she wasn’t sure what to make of Makoto. Getting ready to spring a trap…

Also, what was up with the bottle of tea? At least, Makoto hoped that was tea. In this place, you could never be too sure about that sort of thing.

Makoto’s eyes narrowed at Tasha’s warning, not sure what she meant. Not going easy on her? She didn’t ask her to, wasn’t looking for pity. Yes, this woman was bigger, stronger, sturdier than her - but she knew exactly how to handle that sort of opponent. Now, more than ever.

The bell rang and the referee stepped back, motioning for the combatants to near each other, and they did just that. Makoto moved in with a typical judo stance, getting nearer, edging her way over as Tasha stepped her way. She didn’t know what the whole ‘bomb’ thing meant, what she was offering, and frankly, she had no interest in finding out - this match was going the way she wanted, not Tasha.

As soon as she was near enough, Makoto struck, leaping forward and shooting a palm right in Tasha’s face, straight on the nose. No subtlety, no preamble, a just a stiff strike to the face.