Cicilia De'Reignhardt Vs Elizabeth Brooks Part II: A Veterans Vengeance. (Complete)

Appearance:

Spoiler:

Cicilia couldn't have possibly loathed this match up more. It seemed the AFW AGAIN paired her up with someone psychotic and twisted, this one just LOVING to mess with someone else's emotions. What a bitch... And no doubt the audience ate it up too. She imagined they loved seeing the German fall into a state of righteous anger, giving them as much of a rush as the boxer's adrenaline did! It gave them someone obvious to root for and someone to root against, believing this to be some kind of performance for them!

...If it was...? It was damn convincing... Because Cicilia wasn't the least bit aware of any dishonesty in that perversion. The Juggernaut slipped into the stage, even more disgusted as she spied the outfit Elizabeth chose for this fight... Or should she say, lack OF an outfit seeing as the only things that were covered were her nipples and privates. She could've walked in naked and it likely wouldn't have been that much different barring a significantly more pronounced sense of freedom given how her breasts were MASHED into her chest.

Cicilia's scowl was nothing less than haunting, her eyes a bit sunken, exhausted looking even, as if she had been running day and night for a week without sleep! Her expression was hard, cutting deep into her features, as if no force in the world could change it. The German just wanted to go home, crawl in a hole and disappear... but then, who would pay their bills...?

Elizabeth didn't like the way Cicilia was starting her down. She glared with an unsettling mix of hatred and judgment. "Hmph! At least those pervs in the crowd aren't so damn self-righteous!" 

Elizabeth took a closer look at the woman who had just so recently put the fear into her. She looked like even more of a mess than last time. The Iron Belle was naturally kind and was even tempted to comfort the German; but what had that gotten her?! It got her knocked out in record time, that's what! 

With a forced mocking tone Elizabeth prodded her opponent with questions. "Are you feeling okay? Are you ill? Do you wanna call off the match!?" 

Cicilia had been going to therapy since her last match with Elizabeth, the German recognizing her emotional state was slipping further and further out of her grasp. At least once a week, most often during the weekeneds, the Cicilia would head down to her therapist's office and just talked about things... People, situations, her life, why she thought she was like this and who she blamed for it all. It was a very hard and long processes... and it STILL is... In all honesty, she didn't feel at all any better than the day she walked in but... she did feel different. No longer was she seething with rage at the slightest provocation... now they simply just made her feel tired. No longer was she hopped up on her own adrenaline, ready to take the fight to anyone who looked at her funny... Now she just wanted to disappear when that happened. She wasn't prepared for such a... drastic change... but then, wounds always felt different when the old, crusty bandages were ripped off, exposing them to the air for the first time in centuries. She was still hurting... But it wasn't any longer a deep, piercing sting... just consistent, pulsing throbs...

Easier to cope with, she thought.

"Do you like being a fu-..... a jerk...?" Cicilia asked, barely catching her swear in time! It was something her therapist encouraged, to... relax the usage of such terms and all the vitriol they expressed. "You insulted me, emotionally manipulated me... and now you mock me...? Is this fun to you?"

Cicilia sounded almost... sad as she asked these questions... While her expression remained unchanged, her lips barely moving as she spoke, the intense emotional exhaustion that escaped them was... potent to say the least. If one didn't know her any better... One might've thought Cicilia was about to break down in tears!

Elizabeth audibly scoffed at Cicilias whining. The normally mild-mannered woman couldn't help but retort. "You're the jerk! All I did was try and help you! Perhaps in a manipulative way... But I didn't expect you to go crazy on me... You psycho!" With each sentence, she poked the germans shoulder, each time a bit harder.

Having experienced the boxers jabs before Elizabeth took a step back, worried Cicilia might lash out. "Now if you can manage to calm down we can start our match... Waddya say?!"

Wow. Look at all this deflection. Apparently Elizabeth was either beaten so bad her memory was damaged... or she truly did not see what she had done. Cicilia took a moment, actually shocked by this girl's response. She paused, taking a few BIG breaths to try and keep her anger from boiling up inside... before speaking to her once more.

"You hugged me... then laughed in my face. If you think that's help, then you need therapy more than I do." Her voice was a whisper, the quiet a constraint to keep her from yelling. She could feel it all in her chest now, a tight ball of feelings DEMANDING to be freed! She could feel them pull at her, trying to influence her... she could almost feel their tendrils lock into her brow and the corners of her mouth...

She resisted the temptation to scream at her, though... The crowd was already against her. Everyone seemed to be. When Elizabeth reached out to poke her, her hand would receive a VICIOUS slap... a slap MUCH harder than she actually intended! Even the German seemed shocked... if only for a moment, her stone-gaze flicking back up to her much larger, much bigger counterpart. Whether or not Cici's slap connected, Elizabeth would step back almost fearfully, the German following her with another step of her own. She wasn't going to let her get away so she could run around this ring... She wasn't just going to let her slink away after touching her. She wanted to get close and personal...? Then that's what she was getting.

"Shut up." Cicilia growled softly, her sanguine eyes sparking with outrage! How dare SHE tell HER to calm down! THAT FUCKING- "Rrrgh..." The boxer yanked at her own mental leash SHUTTING those outbursts down before they could fully rise to the surface. She had to try and stay calm... even when everyone hated her, was afraid of her, wanted to hurt her and her girlfriend, she had to keep calm... She can't let herself be controlled by anger anymore than other people...

"Just stop talking and fight."

Elizabeth watched carefully as waves of anger crashed within her unstable opponent. Cicilias tense mannerisms made her uneasy. The way she gritted her teeth, the way she balled her fists tightly enough to clearly show her knuckles, most concerning was the red glow on Cicilias normally pale face. This girl was a ticking time bomb of anger. 

Elizabeth nodded quietly at Cicilias latest command. They were wise words. No need for talking when things could be settled with their fists. The iron belle lowered herself into a grapplers stance and motioned for the bell.

*Ding! Ding! Ding!*


Elizabeth charged forth, attempting to tackle her opponent and make her deadly strikes ineffective.

Elizabeth just CHARGED down Cicilia like a bull staring into the red-cape of a matador, the German simply shifting into her boxing stance and waiting for the woman to get within range! It was almost funny how much she looked like her and, in this case... acted like her. Were her skin not permanently tarnished by the scars that had been clawed into her face and body, were Cicilia slightly taller and with more... "gifted" assets, they might've been siblings. Made it almost appropriate then that they should fight. Just look at how she and Elfrida turned out. Ugh, the mere thought of her older, stuck-up, treacherous older sister made her blood boil... Almost as much as this self-righteous lookalike.

...She hated how people like her would judge her, how they would think ILL of her for being mad at manipulators. First, they draw you in... and then, they mock you, bite at you, make you feel like scum for as long as they can sink their teeth into you... And when their heads are crushed between the German's hands... they wonder WHY!? They judge HER for being mad at their crap!?

...Cicilia didn't like strangers for a reason. There was a bloody, goddamned reason why she wasn't friendly to everyone she met. Elizabeth was a good damn reason why.

The Juggernaut leveled her fist right at the woman's head as she charged at her... FIRING IT OUT RIGHT at her face the moment she drew within range, hoping to RIP the ground out from under her and plant her into the ground with one mighty blow!

Elizabeth's heart skipped a beat as the boxer before her threw out a right hook that could've ended most ordinary woman. Not Elizabeth, having experienced a great deal of Cicilias strikes by now she stopped her charge short and threw up her forearms to block the blow. A nasty welt bloomed on the iron belles pale forearm.

With a sigh of relief, Elizabeth took a few steps back. "Goddamn, those strikes... Can't let it end like last time... I gotta get creative or she'll just pound the crap outta me!" While keeping her eyes locked on Cicilia the tactical veteran slowly retreated outside the ropes while still standing on the surface of the ring. With an uneasy sneer, Elizabeth beckoned to Ciclia: "Hey crazy eyes! Why don't you try hitting me again!?" If she was quick enough Elizabeth could trap or injure Cicilias arms in the ropes. IF being the keyword.

Cicilia's blows connected... Just now where she wanted them too. Showing a great amount of foresight and intuition, Elizabeth foresaw the German's counterpunch and raised her arms to block it, her forearms folding over her face like the closing gates of a castle so that they would protect her from the Juggernaut's wrath! Indeed, Ciclia's punch BLASTED into the fragile soldier's guard... and much to the German's surprise, she stood there and took it! Not a step back from the force of it, nor was she on the floor, clutching her arms in PAIN like any lesser (or should she say average) person might! No, Elizabeth might've had a big red SORE where the boxer had struck her... but she still stood. Would've been respectable if Elizabeth hadn't shown herself to be scum.

Still, she retreated like almost every other woman Cicilia had ever fought, running away from her like she just realized the amount of force she had been struck with! the German only watched silently as Elizabeth fled SO far away, she took to the opposite edges of the ring, slipping outside the ropes and hanging out on the edges, taunting her to come hit her now!

"Aren't you supposed to be a soldier?" Cicilia muttered as she walked at a casual pace towards Elizabeth, having read up on her file. "Why are you running? Why won't you face me?" Her voice was sharp, annoyed, hard like obsidian glass. Her sanguine eyes burned like the magma that had spawned such volcanic creations, the Juggernaut taking her time in approaching her foe... After all, Cicilia wouldn't leave this ring... and Elizabeth doesn't have far left to go out of it. "You're going to talk crap and run? Where's that military honor you Americans like to boast about?"