Reunion of Roses

”This isn’t going to work.” Sista A spoke her mind to Anesthesia for what had to be the 100th time, and Anesthesia paid her opinion as little heed as she always did in these situations. ”Just want to state that. For the record.”

Anesthesia merely groaned as the two of them made their way through the halls of Friction, weaving through the intricate maze of halls and backrooms and gaffing. She didn’t have to worry about weaving around the riffraff, thankfully, since the AFW’s staff had learned to give her and Sista A a wide berth - the benefit of her growing reputation in the company, she supposed.

People saw her, saw them, saw that they were both dressed in their full wrestling attire, and they knew that trouble was likely to come their way if they intruded in her business. They kept away, like good little peons. If only all of Anesthesia’s nuisances were so easily dispelled.

”Your lack of faith in my skills are duly noted, Aisha.” She made sure to put extra emphasis on that name, knowing it would irk her partner to be referred to with the identity she was so intent on shrugging off. [color:22af=ff00ff]”I turned Makoto. I can turn our young friend.”

Sista A groaned and rubbed her forehead, as if the frustration was taking a physical toll. ”One problem with that: Makoto Aihara is not Candy Cane.”

Truer words than that were rarely spoken.

Turning Makoto had been a complicated affair, one that Anesthesia knew she couldn’t do without aid. In the end, she’d needed to enlist help from Margaux Lefeuvre, a woman in the AFW with similar tastes and connections to her own, to seduce the young judoka and break her will. It was an intriguing process, and while she hadn’t fully turned Makoto yet, the end product was nearly complete. Makoto was a ragged, weary thing now, spiteful and vengeful, shedding her former life and eager to rebuild. When the time was right, Anesthesia would move in and show her the way.

But, as proud as she was of her strides with the stripling Makoto, Anesthesia wanted to build her power base even further. So when she learned that Candy Cane, a former Rumble Rose and a talent she’d long sought out, had made  recent return to Friction, she took it as a sign. A rare chance, one that she wouldn’t dare ignore.

”That’s true.” Anesthesia finally acknowledged Sista A’s point after a moment of contemplation, one of the few she could enjoy when her foul-mouthed companion was around. ”That’s why I’m going to try a more direct approach with her. No subterfuge, no tricks. A talk and an offer.”

”And if she spits in your face, like I know she fucking will?”

Anesthesia turned her head as they walked, just enough for Sista A to see the thin grin growing along the sides of her face. ”Then we can pursue more interesting avenues. Ones you’ll enjoy, I wager.”

That seemed to satisfy Sista A for the more, if the devilish glint in her eye was any indication. Content and quiet for the moment, the two of them continued on, their heels click-clacking through the halls as they went. If her sources were correct, Candy Cane was in attendance for their episode for Friction, on standby for potential matches, and she would be hanging out nearby…

"Pffff..."

A hand yanked impatiently at a pair of white boots saddled within a locker marked "Candy Cane," its red-headed tenant catching a glimpse of her own frown in the mirror set up against the wall within. She quickly jabbed the door shut, none too keen on dwelling on her own frustration. After all the crap from the past few weeks that could be wiped from everyone's memory if she could have just torn into someone during the show tonight, naturally the jerks in charge left her without a match just because she sported a bruised hand. Big whoop. That she had inflicted the injury on herself and then forgotten to cover it with a glove made her all the more filled with rage, and the redhead swung to sit down with a violence that nearly sent the bench teetering onto its side. It jerked but stabilized beneath her weight - Candy would like to think the dirty look she gave it made it keep itself upright.

If she didn't watch herself, she would have punched it as hard as the bag. Thinking back to her match with a certain former Rose, on top of everything else that had happened since she had arrived in AFW, fueled her training up to the point where she had managed to hurt her hand from punching the stupid bag too wildly. That had led to this week-off crap. Like a frickin' bruised knuckle would keep anyone with a reputation like hers out of the ring. That reputation had taken enough of a hit from all her troubles in front of these live audiences - she couldn't even start to read the wrestling blogs without wanting to throw her phone at someone's head.

Candy grunted and shoved her foot into the first boot. She just needed to get women from the past off her mind and play some music... or maybe get her hands on some taffy. She paused as she peeked a green eye out to take in the door of her locker, where a box of the delicious treat waited.

With the promise of that treat in mind, Candy sucked up her irritation and hurriedly, violently tied her boot. If someone did tick her off enough that she could drag them into a match, the redhead, fully arrayed in her ring-ready white top and plaid skirt, didn't want to be caught flat-footed and unprepared for a camera, because not a damn thing was going to stop her from introducing the chick's face to her pretty little booted foot.

She finished tying one and switched to the other when she heard heels clicking on the other side of the nearby doorway. Her scowl having gone nowhere, Candy indifferently leveled it towards the door as she fought with the other boot.

Candy Cane, Candy Cane, Candy Cane.

Anesthesia had thought a good deal about Muriel’s prized pet in the years since Rumble Roses failed and they went their separate ways. At first, she’d had minimal interest in their redhead, preferring to use her as a catspaw to manipulate Ms. Spencer. The teacher was the one with the greater experience, the more immediate potential, and, if Anesthesia were correct as usual, had a darker, devilish side to bring out. Also, Anesthesia simply found her more attractive, truth be told.

As time went on, though, she came to appreciate Candy Cane’s latent talent more and more. She was a wild mare, one that wouldn’t be easily tamed, but that challenge was half of the pleasure. She was young, fast, impulsive and rash, but not with a sharp skill and keen instincts for one so young. She had been weaving plans for something rather intimate and involving with the youth when Rumble Roses, but fate intervened before she could bring any of it to fruition. A shame.

With such talent, Anesthesia could only hoped she’d improved with time. Become a smarter woman. Developed the wisdom to see a good deal when it was laid out in front of her. There was only one way to know.

She opened the door to the locker room and found herself looking down on Candy Cane right away, staring into those green eyes with a Cheshire grin, looking on the firestarter worked away at her laces. She was a little older than before, showed the hints of age here and there, but Anesthesia would call those improvements. Like a fine wine, time had been kind to Candy Cane.

”Rebecca.” Anesthesia sighed name more than she said it, making no effort to mask the pleasure in her voice. There was little point. ”There you are. Such a pleasure seeing you again.”

Sista A came in behind her, struting through the door and only bothering to cast a sideways glance as she passed. The last time the two of them had seen each other, Aisha had been quite a different person. Still the diva, still the big-time star, still the idol of millions. She’d fallen from those lofty heights since joining the AFW and changed quite a few things since coming under Anesthesia’s wing, but it was clear that the animosity between them was a constant. On Aisha’s side, at least. ”Hey, bitch.”

Candy's finger rooted halfway through a loop and froze as the scowl turned to disbelief and outright disgust.

No. Way. Crazy. Frickin'. Nurse. She would have rather Teach walked in to give her a lecture.

Teach was a creep and tried to play mommy, sure, and most of all, she annoyed the living hell out of the rebel. Candy's problems with her ended there. Anesthesia? She was a freakshow. Who...the hell...had let her into AFW!? Didn't these promotions talk to each other?

And Candy wasn't stupid enough to think she had changed. The way she blurted Candy's old, meaningless name made the redhead's fingers twitch with discomfort and fury - mostly fury - and the slimy words that dripped from the bitch's lips about her pleasure carried both way too much gratification and way too much menace all at once for the redhead to let them roll off her back. She abandoned the shoelaces to straighten and scowl, having to resist the biggest urge to punch that deluded, fat head of the taller freak when the rocker shot to her feet to stare her down.

To give herself some satisfaction, she did jab her finger into Anesthesia's face as a warning to stay the hell back. "You mean they haven't stuck ya in a nut house yet!?"

More barbed words passed through her mind... and then passed, disappeared, and left Candy seeing red when she spotted the other figure walking into the room.

Her finger switched its subject to the pair of walking fake tits that walked past, as stuck-up as ever. "And you!," Candy bit back, sure her ears were already hurting at the mere glimpse of Aisha, a moment before she stifled her first insult while her green eyes caught whatever the hell it was that Aisha was wearing. No, saying she was wearing it was giving her too much credit.

"Weren't you enough of a bimbo before, Aisha!? There some kind of desperation quota you're tryin'a meet now?"

As it turned out, time had not made Candy Cane any less acerbic than Anesthesia remembered her being. A fact that wouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone who’d know her for longer than two minutes.

Just as brazen as ever, Anesthesia let Candy Cane’s harsh words blow over her like a gentle wind. It wasn’t the first time a lesser mind had accused her of being insane - Sista A did it on a daily basis, after all. Few had the mind to really understand her, and she’d made a certain peace with that. It would take more than a finger jabbed at her face to awaken the fury.

A shame that the same couldn’t be said for her companion.

”You fucking…” Anesthesia already had her arm extended to keep Sista A from lunging at Candy Cane, and it fulfilled its purpose. Her little attack dog was already tugging at her chain, looking like she could start a fight with the redhead right at this very moment. An amusing prospect, sure, but it wouldn’t serve Anesthesia’s purposes. Not yet.

”Like you’re one to talk!” She spat back at Candy Cane, jabbing a finger her way in retaliation. ”How old are you now? What, mid-twenties? And still trying to pull off the goddamn naughty schoolgirl look.” She snorted and sneered. ”Don’t tell me, you and your teacher like to do a little roleplay on the side, bust out the chalkboard and-”

”Enough, enough.” Anesthesia waved her hand and Sista A ceased her barking right away, taking a step back to ease things up. ”No need for the hostility, dear, we come in peace. I do, at least.” She reached down to dust off a space on the bench, then promptly sat. Close to Candy Cane, but not too close. ”It’s good to see you in that outfit, again. Quite good.” She spared a glance at those ripe breasts, before bringing her gaze upwards. ”Contemplating a comeback?”

Much as Candy wanted a scrap with Aisha - not nearly as much as she wanted to tear into the doctor and straighten out that crazy in her head with a few boots to the side of the skull - she didn't remember having such an easy time getting her triggered. Intense satisfaction at seeing the "star" coming straight in for a shot to that overly-tanned mug mixed with a stroke of confusion, but Candy reared a fist back anyway, meant to give her another plastic surgery bill.

Anesthesia stopped her. Candy's head shot to the crazy nurse so fast that her own pigtail slapped her into the face, scoffing at having her chance to blast Aisha taken from her, but the talentless hack's words were plenty to get Candy's attention back.

She craned her way around Anesthesia, close enough to Aisha that she could exchange breath and spit if they yelled hard enough. And Candy yelled. "Lay off, ya braindead floozy! If ya had a clue about anything better than that pop ya pull outta Bieber's sparkly ass secondhand, you'd know that this is punk. Rock. Maybe ya-"

It took a lot to interrupt the redhead, but Aisha barely managed it with the mention of Teach. Candy regarded her with clench teeth and fists. "Don't ya dare bring up Spencer around me, ya hear? Or I'll kick your ass back into school."

She fully expected Aisha - based on that reaction - to keep coming. Maybe then she would get her match.

But Anesthesia stopped her. Stopped her like she would a trained dog. Candy knit eyebrows as she looked at Aisha, incredulous, then at the nurse, then back at Aisha. But figuring out why the hell anyone would listen to Anesthesia was much less important to her at the moment than getting those eyes of the nurse the hell away from her, as the woman settled in like they were old friends.

"Don't think I won't stick a fingernail in both of those manic eyes if ya keep lookin'!", Candy barked, putting another foot between them and crossing her arms over her chest to hide as much cleavage as possible. She was tempted to do it anyway - or just rear back and kick Anesthesia in the face.

A twinge in the back of her mind told her not to. One that sounded way too much like Spencer.

It almost went silent when it sounded like Anesthesia was patronizing her - "Of course I'm makin' a comeback! What, ya think I come here to stand around backstage to hang out with the likes of you two?" Obviously, no - but that might not have been obvious to the nut. Who knew what went on in that head?

Very interested in making the conversation about anything but her and her comeback, which had been nothing but frustrating, Candy shot right back, pointing with her head since her hands were busy keeping Anesthesia from her pleasure show. "What are you two doing together, anyway? I knew you weren't the brightest chick around, Aisha, but not stupid enough to hang out with her!"

Now, this was interesting. When Anesthesia had come in, she’d noticed right away that Candy Cane was in full regalia, dressed as if she were about to go out for a match, and now that Sista A pointed her outfit out, she had to wonder why that was, specifically. She did keep track of the current matches as best she could, always scouting for interesting prospects, and she didn’t recall seeing Candy Cane’s name on the docket. She would’ve remembered that, without question.

So, with that in mind, why’d she come dressed for a match that she didn’t have? Unless…

Yes, her punchy attitude told the story. The fire in her ears, the eagerness to start a fight, aggressive even by her usual standards. She wanted a match, if Anesthesia wasn’t mistaken, and it seemed like that was inevitable sequence of events. Still, she could drag this out a little longer and let tempers flare, see what fruit that bore.

”Ah, such venom.” She feigned fear for a moment, placing a hand on her chest when Candy Cane stepped away. She had to pout when the redhead covered up those delectable breasts of hers. Such things weren’t meant to be hidden. A waste. ”As much as I’d love to see you try that bit of violence, there’s no need. I come in peace, and I applaud your comeback effort. Even more than that, I’d like to support it.”

She took a step to the side and waved her hand to Sista A, who stood with hands on hips and her chest jutting out. Quite proud, quite beautiful. ”Aisha tried a comeback like yourself, but it was less than successful. Then I came along, and under my tutelage, she blossomed. Win after win after win.”

Anesthesia moved over behind Sista A and planted her hands on the diva’s shoulder’s, soothing her with a sweet massage. ”I’m extending the offer to all of my former colleagues. Makoto’s already coming along nicely, making good progress. You’d fit well under my wing.” She moved her head to the side, ensuring that Candy Cane could see her full smile. ”We even approached your ‘Teach’. Though, she was less than receptive, unfortunately.”

”Unfortunately for her.” Sista A snickered, and bared her fangs. ”Putting that little uptight bitch in the dirt was all kinds of fun.”

This maniac maniac thought anyone wanted her support? Candy craned her lips into complete and total distaste the moment Anesthesia mentioned it, and that distaste deepened when the nurse lifted a hand in Aisha's direction. "Blossomed? Looks like more of a weed ta me," Candy retorted. "You-"

Then the hands went to the shoulders, the pleasure went to the faces like a bad incoming sex scene in a crappy, sappy movie, and Candy wanted to wretch. Oh for- She glared at Aisha. No wonder she had reached epic levels of bimbo! "Okay - what the hell is this? Ya finally got desperate enough ta go for nuts-nurse, Aisha? You're a frickin' train wreck."

Somehow, as much as she had always thought of Aisha as a sad sack of manufactured showwomanship, Candy felt something close to betrayal that the woman could become something so pathetic as a crazy nurse's lap-dog. That feeling quickly passed with the quick reminder that it would just make Aisha a better target to beat down - and the drop of Makoto's name.

At first, Candy didn't catch on to what the lunatic was saying. Then it dawned on her, and her jaw hung briefly as she scanned the nurse's face for honesty she wouldn't find. Her jaw clenched again. "Pffffft. Makoto!? That's a load a' crap! Unless ya tied her up an' taped her to your backs, that walking bubblebath wouldn't be caught dead with the likes of you freaks." Much as Candy may have thought nothing of anyone in the Roses, she knew that Makoto had all that honor and sportsmanship-bull filling her head. A "good girl"- woman now, she guessed. They didn't follow hacks like Anesthesia.

Neither did Teach, by the sound of it. Candy scrunched up her face again at Spencer's mention, but didn't explode - eh, what the hell, she didn't join the looney crew, so what should she care anyway-

Slowly, her head tilted to Aisha.

She knew there was a reason Teach wasn't after her now that she had come back. That... desperate matron wouldn't have let Candy take two steps in the building without hounding her if she didn't have a good reason. Like having two of the dirtiest bitches on the planet take her out.

An anger that Candy could not fully read in herself coursed throughout her stiffening, flexing figure, but she refused to let these two floozies catch onto it. So what the hell was going on here? These two were going around taking out Roses systematically, and they had already checked Teach and Makoto off of their list? The finger she jabbed at the two of them carried no more venom than the one earlier. Didn't match the venom she felt for them. "The only one who gets ta beat the hell outta Teach is me. You two better piss off!"

It took Sista A a moment to latch onto Candy Cane’s rather rude implication, and she turned her nose up and snorted at it. Why, Anesthesia couldn't quite fathom - it wasn’t as if the rude redhead was wrong in her vulgar assertion. Part of Sista A’s training had involved the two of them getting to know each other on a deeper level, teaching Aisha to learn more of her own sexuality than ever before, and the results spoke for themselves. Aisha was a brand new woman, freed from the bonds that society had saddled her with, knowing who she truly was for the first time.

Transformation. Metamorphosis. If she could only push Candy Cane in that direction, there was no telling what wonders could come from it.

Anesthesia stepped away from Sista A and lost herself in that fantasy for a moment, before Candy’s skepticism drew her focus and a knowing smile from her. All the time they’d know each other, and the little girl still doubted her capabilities. Or, perhaps, she’d simply forgotten with whom she dealt with? An easy thing to rectify.

”Makoto’s been through her share of ordeals since the two of you parted ways, I assure you. The poor thing was even kidnapped by one of the more unscrupulous types around here. Her life might’ve been in danger.” Anesthesia wagged a glove, immaculate finger Candy Cane’s way. ”Fortunately, I was able to rescue her before she could come to harm. And she was grateful, so grateful…”

Anesthesia had a contented sigh as she leaned back against the lockers and thought of the way her machinations were all coming together. So splendid and smooth, with only a couple of flies in the ointment. Pests that were easily disposed of.

She wasn’t so far gone that she missed the growing fury in Candy Cane’s eyes. She was certain that if she or Sista A had come alone then the redhead would’ve already come to blows. She looked to be considering it, damn the numbers game. They were at the tipping point, then, and there was little point in dallying any longer.

Anesthesia smacked her lips, zeroing in on Candy Cane’s face, wanting to not miss a single reaction. ”It’s funny. As Aisha was caving Muriel’s face in, she kept looking towards the ramp. I didn’t know why at the time, but now? Now I see. She expected you to come and save her. Hoped.” She tapped her chin. ”Perhaps you’d like to make up for lost time?”

Sista A raised her fists and gave them a good cracking, a cruel sneer forming along her face. ”Finally. I like where this is going…”

Anesthesia might have thought that her whole story about Makoto would strike the redhead as striking her as some kind of shepherd to Makoto's lamb. Instead, it only marked her as more of a deceitful creep, testified by her scowl. "Yeah, that's convenient! Wonder what kind of cheesy movie villain around here might'a set somethin' like that up," Candy rang back, shaking her head in disgust. Even if she didn't set it up, Candy was nowhere near naive enough to think she did something good for Makoto. She wanted her wrapped around her finger the whole time. "So ya took advantage of her when she needed help? All ya got was a prisoner! Give her one chance ta get away from ya, an' I bet she'd take it!" Or so the redhead would hope when it came to a chick like Makoto.

Aisha might have been enough of a living stepstool to join up with a nutty nurse, but Makoto? Hell no!

Thoughts of Makoto, however, sank beneath a growing rage. A rage at knowing she was getting taunted, over a situation that she shouldn't give a damn about, and that it struck everything in her that told her to break Aisha's nose, Anesthesia's leg, and leave them both in a heap on the floor for the janitors to come around, pick up, and dump somewhere.

Maybe it was because Teach had the balls to stick it out against these two maniacs and got punished for it. Maybe it was because it sounded like Makoto didn't. Maybe she was just already mad enough that it all got to her faster than usual.

The freaks could have been lying, too. But then maybe Candy just wanted to pound them into the ground for their words anyway, even if there wasn't an ounce of truth in them. For trying to use them against her, knowing every single one of them would prick at her fury.

"Shut." She took a step forward like a crack of lightning, closer to Aisha. "The hell." With a brief shift to get her balance and instill all of her force and malice into the swing, the redhead swung her stronger leg high. "Up!", she screamed, as the toe of her boot flew towards the side of Aisha's head.