Kassidy V. Cicilia - ist es Schicksal?

By the time Kassidy had shown up at the local gym, the place seemed to be winding down for the day. The place was still open for about three to four more hours, but most people had work or some other activities planned for the following day, and many of them needed to settle down so they could get up bright and early to start their boring old routines. As Kassidy approached, there was a steady stream of people all leaving to get home after a decent workout, the door constantly being pushed open and slowly closing, but never shutting all the way. It would be a few minutes before the door was finally done expunging the tired and weary workers, Kassidy moving from the wall she was leaning against and scooping up her gym bag and finally walking inside to finally start on her task.

Miranda’s orders were simple enough. Kassidy was to go out and find “volunteers” that would be interested in testing out her employers…what were they calling it? Performance enhancers? It didn’t really matter to the Collector what it was called, she just needed to do her part and gather up some guinea pigs for Miranda to poke and prod. So far, Kassidy had collected one new user for the past three nights, and today she was looking to score four for four!

To think, she had been so nervous when walking in this very gym three days prior. She was unsure how easy it would be to get gym goers to try out a mysterious drug with only the assurance of a total stranger. It was actually quite easy, much to her surprise. Once she figured out all the signs of someone desperately unhappy with their body, all she had to do was act like a friend, whisper sweet little promises in their ear, maybe tell them about some healthy sounding ingredients that were not actually in there and then tell them it was all natural. They ate that stupid pitch up like it was cake, each and everyone of them.

In a sense, she was not lying to them entirely. People who used Miranda’s drug did lose weight and gained muscle mass at an alarming rate, but there had been reports of severe side effects that really sounded nasty, even for someone like Kassidy. Stuff like blood coming out of the ears and nose, cists popping up left and right, a burning sensation throughout the body, and of course the big bad one itself, Death. Even the guy she met at this very gym had recently been picked up yesterday on his way to work so Miranda could “look him over” after he let Kassidy know he thought the drug she gave him made him sick. Knowing how uncaring and cold the good doctor was, Kassidy would have preferred the side effects of the drug had it been her.

Normally, she would have gone to another gym, but since the first subject was out of the picture she doubted anyone would recognize her. She strolled into the locker rooms after signing in with the fake name she came up with for her trial membership to this place, looking to place her things in the usual locker number she always used, lucky number 6. Much to her irritation, it was already taken. Locked up tight with a top of the line locker combination. Kassidy considered breaking the thing and tossing the patrons stuff out, but after thinking about what she was there to do, she decided it was not a good idea to attract too much attention. After settling for locker number 66 and getting dressed in a dark purple tank top, shorts, and fingerless gloves, she was ready to start her hunt!

Cicilia hammered into the punching-bags today not with rage... but with exhilaration. She had woken up on the right side of the bed, so to speak, and had more energy than she knew what to do with! She had made breakfast for her lover, kissed and cuddled her for all it was worth and then she had taken them both out for an early dinner! Suffice it to say, it was a good day! Unfortunately, with all this goodness and being out-and-about, Cicilia had completely forgotten about the gym! Any good fighter/athlete knew that one couldn't just simply skip a workout! It messes with the flow of progress! So... she had to postpone their late-night shenanigans at least for a little-while... She had to get in her property damage for the day.

It even surprised Cicilia how much quicker and stronger she felt when not bared down by her own anger, how much... lighter it made her feel. Sometimes rage could be as much of a weight as it was a pick-me-up. She could throw a punch so hard it could crack skulls, punch bags of the chains from which they hung but she never felt "good" about it... She felt STRONG, UNSTOPPABLE but it was hard to enjoy your work when you were burning everything to the ground to feel this way.

Today was different... She could truly revel in her strength as she tore into the bag, the way her knuckles dug into the canvas, the way the sand-back shook and writhed with her powerful blows... She felt unstoppable... and she could love it too. She was so focused on her fighting that she barely noticed the newcomer that had come into the gym and the aura she brought with her... Cicilia had grown to be perceptive of intention... or at least negative intention. It tended to happen when enough evil people came into your life uninvited... or when you come into theirs unintentionally... Perhaps that was the downside to this... state of euphoria. She was so focused on herself, so focused on the enjoyment she was having with her fighting that she had completely disregarded the healthy-suspicion she normally had about her that had kept her safe-ish since her time here!

Unfortunately, one of the perks of this place came with a pretty stingy rule that Kassidy had never followed before. It was a simple rule, the gym would provide free clean lockers to those that joined up, but if one were to actually use them they were supposed to check them out at the front desk. All they had to do was write the locker number, a last name, and contact info in case something was left behind. Normally, small time rules like that were Kassidy’s least favorite simply for how small time they were, and there was only one reason that she decided to actually follow through with it today. She knew it as a petty, childish reason even as she approached the front desk to the locker signup sheet. She wanted to know the name of the person who stole her locker number from her.

To her surprise, she actually recognized the name: Reignhardt. It seems a fellow German might still be hanging around this gym, one who Kassidy recalled hearing of back in her teens about her famous rage, burning red eyes, and death black hair. Even Kassidy could still recall a Reignhardt boxing family fight or two someone had shown her on a now-defunct website back in the days, and how deliciously brutal they always tended to get. Time had worn away many of the details in Kassidy’s memories, but she still had a desire to meet this one, for both personal AND business reasons.

It took maybe two minutes for Kassidy to find her, with a minute of that time spent writing down fake info on the locker sheet. It really was not that hard to miss the raven-haired girl in the corner blasting away a punching bag like it was little more than a toy. It simply HAD to be her! No one else could even hold a candle to her sheer power. For now, Kassidy had her eyes on the prize, and the hunt could finally begin.

Weaving through what gym rats remained, Kassidy decided to go for a bit of subtlety. Moving just past her target and settling up next to a punching bag just a little further off. After doing some light stretches, Kassidy began to passively practice some of her attack such as her jabs and knee strikes on the bag, all the while insuring the raven-haired woman never left her peripherals. Slowly, Kassidy turned up the pressure, hitting the bag harder, more frequently. Blows that had once simply shaken the bag were beginning to make it rock back and forth. The Collector began a dazzling display of footwork, sliding quickly from one position to the next, smashing the bag from all sides until finally, after watching and waiting for the Reignhardt’s own heavy blow, the pair simultaneously smashed the bags with their own powerful attacks. If her timing was on point, Kassidy would then pretend she just noticed the woman, and that their fated final blows were simply coincidence.

“Wow, that’s a killer punch you have there!” Kassidy said with a smile, watching her targets bag swing from side to side, “Are you a professional fighter or something? Because if not you should really…uh, wait sorry…I got a bit of the “first day gitters” I guess. Guten Tag! My name is Kassidy, you come here often?” She asked, looking to be polite, or so it seemed.

Ah... there was the suspicion. Granted, it didn't come on with as much venom as it normally did, but still... Cicilia had learned from experience that random strangers coming up to you and treating you kindly was never just all that it was. Margaux, Juno that one time... People with manners towards the juggernaut merely wanted to get in close... close where they could stab into her abdomen with their insidious daggers. Cicilia's gloved fists SLAMMED into the bag with such a point of finality, the bag almost seemed to SNAP right off it's hook... luckily pulling back before anything unfortunate happened. The woman before her looked like the rest of them... Innocent in voice, odd in appearance. A nurse, a gang-leader and now this... Whatever she was... The best thing she could offer her was a clearly forced smile, the German's defensive nature flaring up like skin on poison-ivy.

"...Guten tag..." Cicilia reciprocated cautiously, even more suspicious that she knew to greet her in German. This should have been a tip-off to anyone with as much experience with scum as Cicilia had... They would come up to you all friendly like, smile, shake your hand, then display their knowledge of you with a mere gesture or phrase, something that would tip you off to the trap you've already fallen into. Of course, this could've just been a coincidence, some unfortunate misconception but she didn't think so... At the rate things were going, Cicilia was very much starting to doubt coincidences exist.

"...Cicilia..." She responded slowly once more, looking the girl up and over, as if trying to spot hidden malice. "...Yeah? I work out here. So what?" It was an innocent enough question... one Cicilia will have to apologize for should this lady turn out to be as innocent as she tried to appear. "I'm a boxer and a wrestler, to answer your first question. Is there something you want?"

“I knew it!~”

The thin smile finally seemed to crack into a mischievous grin when the raven-haired beauty replied to her greeting. Kassidy’s cold red eyes bore into Cicilia’s with a look that many would consider dangerous and threatening, were it not for the burning spark of curiosity that seemed to linger in the crooked woman’s thin irises. If Cicilia was searching for ill intent, she would find it ingrained all over Kassidy’s features, be it the woman’s eyes that seemed to have seen multiple horrendous acts, and possibly enjoyed some of them, or the smile she bore that was as sharp and pointed as a bowie knife. The malign aura seemed to linger around the girl almost naturally, yet the purple haired woman had yet to direct any real ill intent on her fellow German, though Cicillia had fallen into one of her traps,

“I knew It! I really did! Someone from die Heimat. Mama always said you could see it in the eyes, and she must have been right! See? Yours are like mine!” Kassidy pointed at her red eyes and playfully winked to emphasize one. “Though, I must admit something to you…I did see a “Reignhardt” on the signup sheet over there, so I was looking around for another German. I didn’t want to assume anything, so I just tried a little greeting.”

Kassidy seemed to notice how cautious her new companion was being, and understood why. She may have liked the way she looked, but not too many other people did. No one wanted to hang around somebody who looked dangerous, so the crooked woman had to pretend that she didn’t notice her creepy appearance, “Sorry, was my pronunciation off? I’m only German on my mother’s side, and she didn’t teach me too much about the language.”

“Cicilia, eh? I can see the boxer part, certainly. To answer both of your questions, I’m new to this gym, so if you came here often I was hoping you had an idea of what might be a good place to start a workout here, ~BUUUUT~” Kassidy leaned in a bit to show some enthusiasm, “I never had the chance to go up against a boxer before. You look like you can cook with some gas, and if you aren’t too far in your workout, may-be-we-can-spa-ar~” Kassidy’s voice seemed to drop to a quiet mumble as her cold eyes looked away towards another gym-goer, almost in a hungry manner, “But maybe I’m coming on a bit strong…”

...And she didn't even try to hide it. Cicilia supposed she should offer this girl some kind of respect for not hiding that shamelessly inhuman glint in her eyes, those sanguine eyes that seemed akin to hers in appearance. In Germany, Cicilia had never seen another woman with red eyes... she had always figured that the color was unique to her bloodline... or unique in general. Albinos, for example, were some of the few that had such eyes but this girl... along with plenty of Japanese, possessed them... Well, she never really took too much pride what color her irises were in any-case. That kind of uniqueness was only skin-deep after all.

The girl's outward giddiness and energy threw someone as reserved as Cicilia off, unprepared for the outpouring of emotion and excitement that came from her. Here she was, going on about her heritage, practically jumping up and down at the excitement of finding another German here while Cicilia just stared at her blankly, her expression flat. She didn't know quite how to respond to all this... uncalled for energy. On the one hand, she was getting some serious Alexia vibes from this girl... Eyes of a hunter, sharp features of one too with all the restraint of a child. On the other hand, she had decided to approach her honestly (or so she thought), seemingly genuine in her surprise and joy... Cicilia had no cause to brush her off or beat her down... yet... but that didn't mean she had to join on in this spectacle. Why couldn't people just leave her to her WORK!? She wasn't here to make friends! She wasn't even so patriotic about her homeland that she could identify, let alone CELEBRATE, someone from there. This girl was a half-breed and she was fawning over her like Cicilia was the goddess almighty... She had no idea what was going on...

"Uh... No. It was fine." She mumbled, glancing off to the side. Kassidy would then make her intentions plain and obvious, remarking how much power the boxer packed before offering a spar! OH BOY here we go. Women who walked up to her expecting a friendly fight often regretted it. Anyone who thought a De'Reignhardt would play nice in a ring was SORELY mistaken... One look at this girl though, past all the sugar-lumps and candy-energy, would reveal the darker nature of this girl... Her eyes were as cold as the winter and sharper than any blade. Cicilia wondered quietly... if she knew she looked this way... or even if she cared.

Freaks.

But then... She couldn't just tell her to piss-off either. Her pride as a fighter wouldn't allow it. The German glanced at the clock, determining how much time she had... before turning her gaze back on Kassidy.

"Fine..." She responded flatly, raising a glove up to her mouth, pulling at the Velcro with her teeth. With it undone, she would then shake it off before undoing the other one with her fingers. With her trade-mark gloves discarded, Cicilia would take a fist in her palm, cracking the knuckles in expectation of the fight to come before pointing over towards the ring the rested near the back of the gym.

"Go on then. I'll be there in a moment." She didn't like to turn her back to anyone with those eyes... Once she was in their sight, she knew that it was only a matter of opportunity that would turn them feral. Experience had a way of aligning one's expectations after all. 3 women... THREE OF THEM abused moments of vulnerability and weakness to get something over on her.... Not anymore. She would wait for Kassidy to make her way towards the ring... wait a few moments... before following her, the boxer''s fingers absently... and somewhat anxiously combing through her umber locks.

It was only a matter of time until she was fighting a monster.

While Cicilia was analyzing and observing the strange woman in front of her, clearly trying to punch holes in an innocent enough story, Kassidy continued to smile and play nice. Though she was putting on a pleasant face, inside she was quickly becoming a storm of dark emotions and ill intent. Frustration began to build in the pit of Kassidy’s stomach, and the grin that revealed her carnivorous teeth seemed to be slipping back into a thin smile, time quickly rotting away any affection left on the crooked woman’s pale face. Kassidy had been sure to tell the world’s best lie, which was an edited truth. Everything she had told Cicilia was the complete truth, except for the part where she implied she gave a rat’s ass about what her Mama thought about her. Of course, she left out the part where she planned on getting the German addicted to a drug that was just as likely to do what it was advertised as it was tear her insides apart like a shredder. What could she be doing wrong?

The Heelish Hunter could only assume Cicilia was some weird type of shut-in, fearful of the outside world and devoting most of her free time to her work, and anyone who noticed that sentence ending punch could easily tell you what that work was. Even as Kassidy looked into Cicilia’s burning red eyes, she could still hear the silent creak of the punching bags chain as it swayed back and forth. Kassidy almost wanted to chuckle as she looked into those blood red rubies. The judgment, mistrust, and even quiet hatred were clear as day on the girl’s face. Kassidy was terrible with hiding how she felt, so she hardly ever did, but this girl wouldn’t even bother. It was if she was done with the entire human race, yet she knew she could not live without it. It was an anarchist’s eyes, one in the making, with only one small thread connecting Cicilia to the world around her…at least, that was Kassidy’s guess.

If she was being honest, Kassidy knew Cicilia’s answer the minute she asked the question. From what she could remember about this family, they were those prideful types, never leaving a challenge unanswered no matter how small it may be. Cicilia looked like the type that was confident in her strength, and so answering the question was simply a formality. As soon as the spar was proposed, Kassidy noticeably clamed up, only smiling when she received the conformation from her German acquaintance. Her eyes narrowed as she watched those padded gloves slide off the sledge hammers that made up her opponents’ fists. It was likely just so the raven-haired striker could use her full arsenal of attacks, like throws and holds, but Kassidy took it as a signal that things were going to get violent. A bare-knuckle brawl, the thought itself gave her a glint in those pointed eyes of hers.

It was not until Cicilia sent her ahead that Kassidy’s reptilian smile disappeared, falling instead into a thin frown. It was a weird request to make given the situation. Neither of them needed to stretch, the tango with the boxing bags had been more then enough for a warmup. This time it was Kassidy’s turn to gaze at Cicilia with suspicion. If she was not scared of Kassidy’s appearance, then why would she…-Oh!

The memory hit Kassidy in an instant, the last thing she ever heard about the De’Reignhardt family! The last she had ever heard about them was how one of them, in some crazy fit of rage, practically brained a guy by smashing his skull in well after the match was over. It was a girl, that much Kassidy remembered…the same cautious one standing in front of her? If so, perhaps Kassidy misjudged her, and the spar maybe a bit entertaining after all. Maybe she was getting set up to take a hit~

Leaning in to intentionally get into Cicilia’s space, the red eyes that were like blades stared dangerously into the German’s strong gaze, “Now then…what a strange request, wouldn’t you say? You don’t appear to need a drink, or to use the restroom, so why can’t we walk over there together?” Those sharp red eyes projected a knowing beam unto Cicilia, daring her, “But, I don’t think it is an unreasonable request. Don’t worry, I won’t peek!”

Kassidy spun on her heel and strolled over to the ring, climbing in with little urgency as she whistled a merry little show tune and actually pulled the ropes open for the boxer, if she was willing to take it. If not, she would simply shrug and walk towards the opposite corner.

“Hey, lets make a deal! Whatever happens, let try not to seriously hurt each other, okay? I gotta go to work tomorrow, and my boss won’t be happy if I got a busted jaw, and your…boyfriend? No…girlfriend, maybe? They would probably hate to see you comeback from the gym all broken and stuff! Deal?”

Kassidy, of course, had no plan on following her own rule. If the time and opportunity presented itself, she would do whatever she felt like, and possibly break whatever she could.

It was almost as if an aura of defensive flame burst up around Cicilia when Kassidy got right up in her face, the air between them charged with the tension of hostility. The German's face contorted with frustration and disgust as the girl got in so close, their faces were but in inch apart from one another, her piercing rubies meeting the boxer's blazing eyes. What the HELL was with this women and getting up in her damn space!? What, did she think that made her "tough?" Did she think it helped her make her point? God, the way her breath hit Cicilia's face... it made her want to break this girl in half... The way she ran off all these stupid observations, excuses the German could've made to stay behind a second or too... almost as if she was calling a bluff Cicilia hadn't made.

"I don't have to justify anything to you." Cicilia growled, reflecting that "beam of knowing light" back into those hollow, sharp eyes of Kassidy's. "Are you going... Or not...?" Well, apparently she was, seemingly alluding to something Cicilia was going to do behind her back that she didn't want to see while she did it! The boxer stared into her back, utterly confused what she meant by that, trying to decide if she was irritated, angry or just plain frustrated... It was almost funny how often it was all three at once...

Still, true to her word, she followed behind Kassidy to the ring, waiting for her to get in herself and ignoring such a "graceful" gesture she offered in holding the ropes for her. No, Cicilia wasn't taking any chances with her. She was too clearly a freak... This woman should feel damn grateful she was getting a fight at all... and not push her luck...

Cicilia took to one corner as the girl did to the other, Kassidy remarking how nice it would be if they didn't go back to their lives busted up and broken. The boxer winced as the women mentioned her girlfriend, a spark of fear jutting down into her chest. Was it just a guess or... did she actually know who she was talking about...? Cicilia crossed her arms and stepped out of her corner, her brow furrowed, her jaw clenched, her muscles tense and visible as she glared at her opponent... She had been pressing every wrong button... There's no way this was a coincidence.

"If you quit when I win, you won't get busted up." Cicilia muttered, raising her hands up, palms open and ready to grapple.

Well, this little German was turning out to be quite troublesome. Kassidy had originally planned to seduce Cicilia with some fake possibility of friendship, then try and introduce the addictive drugs voluntarily. She would get the boxer in the ring, give a good enough performance to make her foe sweat a little, then either kindly finish her off or take a fall. Either way, the hunter would use the chance to introduce her own “vitamins” and over them to the boxer. Worse case scenario, Cicilia refuses, and the Collector is off finding a new subject to play with, or simply breaking into the German’s locker to spike a drink or food with the drug…if she was feeling rather petty afterwards. This whole charade was just an incredibly circuitous way of accomplishing her employer’s goals while letting Kassidy have some fun.

But Kassidy wasn’t really having fun, now was she? She could understand and forgive Cicilia’s mistrust in her, what with her dangerous appearance and strange motivations, but what Kassidy could not forgive was the Boxer’s utter refusal to play along with her. Cicilia wore her feeling on her sleeve, and consistently burned, blocked, or cut off any olive branch Kassidy tried to extend towards her fellow German, preventing the Hunter from getting anywhere near close enough to make any kind of connection other than an enemy. The Boxers utter refusal to lie about how she felt, not even pretending to go along with Kassidy in the hopes she could find the Hunter’s weakness was more then enough to push a few of the purple haired woman’s very sensitive buttons.

Cicilia didn’t accept Kassidy’s invitation through the ropes, causing the negative emotions to start to boil even more, and her smile began to fade from her face. The Hunter walked to her corner and made her offer, to which she thought even as stubborn as Cicilia was turning out to be, she would agree to it. After all, what was the harm in trying not to hurt one another too badly? Yes, it was a ploy to possibly catch Cicilia unaware should she need to pull a dirty or violent blow on the boxer, but it WAS a reasonable request on the surface.

And yet the Boxer looked angry when Kassidy turned back to face her. Suddenly this girl was giving Kassidy a look like the Hunter had just threatened her with the worse thing imaginable. Cicilia stared at her with such an intensity that Kassidy’s smile faded away entirely, her face slowly transforming into a more serious, professional look. Those pointed eyes still stared at Cicilia with a questioning look, but it quickly turned to malice once the boxer said her piece.

“Wow, your cool. So, I guess that mean no deal then?” Kassidy’s voice went from the slightly high-pitched excited creep it had been to the business like, cruel tone it really was. The crooked woman did want to fight Cicilia, but she dropped all pretenses of trying to be friendly. If Cicilia wanted to fight an enemy so badly, then that was what the hunter would give her. The plan had changed, with Kassidy’s intent now being to beat Cicilia so that she would be docile enough for the hunter to basically force her deadly chemicals into her.

Kassidy stepped forward, hardly giving Cicilia’s raised hands any attention at all. “If I recall, I said I wanted to face off against a boxer…”

That was the only hint Kassidy would Give Cicilia before curving her body to the side, making herself a smaller target while stepping inside Cicilia’s space once again, but this time one of her hands came racing up in a street-trained uppercut. The bored look on her face making it clear she had been in quite a few vicious scraps before, and Cicilia was just going to be another number in the Crooked Collectors collection of victims.

Whatever pathetic effort Kassidy put into her friendly excited facade withered away in the German's natural hostility, revealing her aggravation and cruelty... That dull edge the boxer recognized in the freaks who so often liked to mess with her. It wasn't that she wanted to fight an "enemy" but that's who Kassidy seemed to be... Proving Cicilia right with each piece of her facade stripped away. From the way she looked to the way she talked, there was nothing else she could be... Perhaps it took some coaxing to force it out, to have the woman reveal her true nature but she always preferred it that way... To have monsters out in the open... So much easier to hate them when she could see them in all their repulsive glory.

"I spoke my terms." Cicilia remarked harshly as Kassidy questioned the deal was "off". If anything, that little question proved that she was planning on double-crossing her anyway, taking this to the damn limit. If she expected the Juggernaut to quit just because she would keep getting up... She was wrong. Cicilia was a warrior... She would keep fighting if a new challenge was thrown before her. If Kassidy kept standing in her way... then she would get thrown down again and again.

Apparently, she didn't like the stance Cicilia took up, remarking how she wanted to fight a boxer. The juggernaut cocked an eyebrow, remembering that she had only remarked how she had never fought one before, not that she actually wanted too... Hmph. Whatever. She was stronger fighting like this anyway. Clenching her fingers inward into fists, she waited for Kassidy to make the first move: a wild uppercut that had about as much technique as one could expect from someone who had never taken a class. Cicilia's frown deepened, disappointed that this girl dare challenge her with such pitiful technique, her arms shooting down to intercept the fist with a loud SMACK!

Kassidy may have been in a number of "scraps" but Cicilia was a trained fighter. She was taught by both her family (briefly) and various experts how to box, how to FIGHT! That punch might've been strong... but it lacked discipline and direction... even for someone as rage-fueled as the Juggernaut. There was always a noticeable difference between a trained fighter and an improviser...

Cicilia would quickly counter that uppercut with a powerful left-right jab-cross combo at the center of the girl's face before ducking low to let her feel what a REAL uppercut felt like... right into her stomach.