A Family Matter, Don’t Interfere...Please?

Amalia clutched the picture tighly in her hand, her heart pounding out of her chest. There she was, Cicilia De’Reignihardt, her sister or, half-sister in the flesh going into the gym. The blonde half blood breathed in and out, trying to build up her confidence to approach them. Her usual spunky attitude lost as the moment she dreamed about for her entire life was right here, right in front of her. She wanted to grab fate by the tethers and show it was her destiny to defeat her and get her mother back.

She felt sick, maybe this wasn’t a good idea, maybe she should back off and try again later. She looked down at the picture, the somber faces of her older sisters with their mother and hers. Those pools began to burn, happiness that she could of had was ripped from her by them, it wasn’t fair! She looked back up to the gym doors and stomped toward the entrance, ready to give the brawler a piece of her mind and a fist to the face.

The doors swung open on her entry, she began to search the lobby but Cicilia wasn’t here. She must be training, was Amalia’s only thought. A receptionist stops her for a moment seeing the sudden hostility, demanding signs of approval to be here. After politely fishing for her wallet, she shows off her league card and is welcomed in.

She stops by the locker room first, beginning to strip down to her gear, her usual red and white top and shorts. She slides in her gloves from her pants pockets and readies herself for a fight. Amalia takes one last look at the picture before putting away in the locker. “Here goes the first step mom.” She whispers to it before shutting the door and locking the contents.


The blonde stands at the entrance to the workout room, her gaze scanning the room for the juggernaut, a chance to get one piece out of play to go for the big fish next. It didn’t take long in the rather empty gym to find them, slowly, she makes her move prowling and closing that distance to overtake her sister and prove herself superior.

Every morning was the best morning ever for Cicilia when she awakens, her arms wrapped tightly around the cutest woman in the world... her first sight always being the flawless Sayumi curled up against her... While the world would always try to bite at Cicilia, rend at her flesh and gnash at her bones, it always began with heaven... always waking up in heaven. Some craved money for their happiness, others desired power and praise, dominion over others. There were monsters that would only be satisfied with the complete control of an area but Cicilia's desires were both more simple and more complicated than that: Her heaven was only that of love, to be cared for who she was... and every morning she woke up with that... As the German looked down upon her lover, softly pressed into her chest... She couldn't help but smile. Despite it all, the pain and struggle... she wouldn't trade her life for anything. THIS, right here, was the most important thing and she would die before it was ever stripped from her by someone else.

"I love you..." Cicilia whispered as she stroked her angel's warm cheek, burying her face in Sayumi's curly lavender hair. "I love you so much...."

__________________

Before Cicilia knew it, that heaven would disappear behind her as she descended back down into the world below, the world of the gym where the German honed her skills to stay strong. ...Though "Strong" had begun to mean less and less nowadays. She had to face it... Her prime felt like it was slipping away. Fights were ending worse and worse for her recently and the losses were starting to mount! She was starting to fall to people clearly her inferior no matter HOW much strength she put behind her blows. She knew she was powerful... SHE KNEW she was mighty! Cicilia would bet her gloves that she would be able to out-muscle ANYONE in the AFW in a head-on fight, pulverize even the much larger and bulky men should they choose to face her wrath! She could feel it in her bones, the power she had honed, crafted for years, the weapon she had made herself into in order to stick it to her sibling... She had crafted herself into, what she considered to be, a CRUSHING weapon in order to become what her family had always deemed impossible...

...And yet, she was failing....

Why?

Normal days meant the Gym going into the red with all the punching bags they had to replace but today, Cicilia simply needed to think in comfortable surroundings, surroundings where she didn't have someone she loved to worry over her. What was she going to do? With each loss, she could feel Elfrida's shadow looming further over her, that witch's insidious claws closing around her throat like a demon who haunted the boxer's shadow. The very thought sent a SHIVER down the spine of the nearly immovable boxer... She wasn't ready... She couldn't face her family like this, not with her record as spotty and flimsy as it was! How was she going to defend herself against the self-proclaimed (and title-earned) "God of Martial Arts" if she can't even conquer one little league!?

...How would she be able to keep Sayumi safe..?

"Damn it..." Cicilia groaned as she sat upon a bench near the back wall, running her fingers through her bangs. "I need a new plan..."

There she was. Raven toned hair, red pupils full of power, a build that even bodybuilders would desire. This has to be her, she’d stake her intuition on that assumption. The half-blood would cross the gun floor, striding last the equipment with purpose. Her own red pools glued to the German Juggernaut, unrelenting as she pushed her pursuit. She had a few guess on how this interaction could go but Amalia ran through almost every scenario, she couldn’t lose here, not to her.

The blonde Jack of All Trades, saw her sister distraught, a small piece of her wanted to try to be a sister but, the major part of her demanded blood. Amalia couldn’t ignore that, the years of loneliness that Cicilia and Elfrida gave from her couldn’t ever be forgiven. No scenario could forgive them or maybe she just didn’t look for a path to acceptance and reconciliation. No, she wanted this fight, there was no goin back on that choice now.

White boots would slightly come into the juggernauts skewed view. She made her presence known, making her aware she wasn’t alone. If Cicilia decided to look up, Amalia would begin the start of every scenario she ever ran.

“Are you Cicilia? Cicilia De’Reighnhardt?” She asks, her fists clenched tightly as she practically glared at the woman she supposed she could call ‘sister’. “You have no idea how long it took me to find you. I’ve waited my whole life to get a chance to beat you, for what you and Elfrida did.” The last of her words had traces of venom as she spoke.

Her glare only sharpened as she grabbed hold of the woman’s training too. She couldn’t contain herself, anger like this? This sudden feeling to fight until there was nothing left? She’d never felt anything like it but she had a purpose, this fight meant climbing that ladder to getting her mom back from the people who stole her away. “Well! Aren’t you going to say anything you coward?!” she demands.

Cicilia's quiet thoughtfulness would be disrupted by the boisterous darkness that always seemed to haunt her, this time manifesting in the form of a blonde stranger in full wrestling-garb, her features sharp and harsh. The German's sanguine eyes would lock with the opposite pair, one... oddly familiar, the blonde suddenly laying hands upon the previously docile juggernaut, YANKING her to her feet as she SNAGGED hold of her top-strap! Instantly, the boxer's temper FLARED, her once expressionless features curling downward in an almost grotesque, outraged growl, one hand reaching up to SLAP away the blonde's gripping paw, the other SHOOTING out SHOVE the woman back, a mighty heave that she intended to send the girl SPRAWLING on her back! What then hell was this woman's PROBLEM, just coming up and GRABBING her like that!? Never once had she ever laid eyes, let alone hands upon this girl before today, some stranger with an ego the size of this building thinking they could just walk up here and touch HER!?

Not in this damn century!

"Yeah, I'm Cicilia De'Reignhardt." She responded just as harshly, the boxer squaring right up with the other woman... discovering she was around as tall as herself... though not nearly as toned. From that physique, Cicilia could tell this girl had spent some time training. She had enough bulk to her (not to mention confidence) to make the Juggernaut think she'd been fighting if her clothes alone didn't reveal it. Still... even if that were true, she was either greener than grass or dumber than dirt to try what she did... Cicilia didn't take kindly to threats and she didn't suffer accusations... both of which this blonde-stereotype was hurling her way! Cicilia's rage, however, would be quieted for but a moment as this woman mentioned Elfrida, the German's eyes, once narrowed and pointed, had widened with shock! This.... This girl knew her sister!? It was no surprise that people have heard of the De'Reignhardt family, let alone Elfrida's name by itself, but it was odd for anyone to talk like they KNEW her! What was more, this girl was talking like she knew both Cicilia herself AND her sister, accusing them of working together in some nefarious plot to do... something to this woman!

...Was this some kind of joke...?

...Was this woman fucking NUTS!?

She would stand there before Cicilia, demanding a response... and the boxer, for the longest time, could only stand there and stare...

"What?" Cicilia would whisper, finally snapping out of her trance. "Who do you think you are, talking to me like I know you?" Despite being nearly identical in height, Cicilia seemed to LOOM over this newcomer, her shadow casting WIDE over her, threatening to engulf the stranger in it's crushing black. Her sanguine eyes burned with the intensity of the hells, her anger, righteous, burning deep into the soul-gates that stared back into their opposites!

"Who... the hell... are you?" Cicilia would fire back, jabbing her finger sharply into the snobby stranger's breast-bone, leaning in close so that their faces were mere inches apart. "...And how do you know my sister?"

Amalia would be lying if she said she wasn’t caught off guard by the sudden shove. Her body would be sent back peddling toward some equipment behind her, sending her anger into a frenzy as she jumped to shove them back, to give them the same kind of reaction. Scenario 49: violently being shoved before pushing back which would lead to an argument. This wasn’t exactly what she was aiming for but still, she got their attention and she was going to keep it until her moment came. It was relieving to hear her intuition and constant investigating paid off. Cicilia stood before her in the flesh, although a bit intimidating, she didn’t come this far for nothing. She’d glare intently as she stood her ground against her older sister.

It wasn’t until they heard Elfrida’s name did she turn pale, eyes widening out of their bloody sockets like she’d see kind of ghost or evil spirit. Did she fear her own older sister that much that just the mere mention sent them into shock? Amalia took note of this, if Cicilia was this scared than her older sibling was someone to watch out for. The blonde couldn’t help but feel a slight tingle of something looming over her, like malicious intent out to the max. Was this how it felt to face a De’Reighnhardt? This crushing pressure or was it her own confidence faltering as she stood eye to eye with Cicilia? She didn’t have an answer for that question but she couldn’t shake it, the feeling of being crushed, was this some kind of sick joke by fate?

Hearing that she didn’t know her ent her even further off the edge. Her mother couldn’t have been that cruel that she didn’t tell her siblings about her, could she? No...no! She wouldn’t do that, she loved her and that was a fact, an indisputable fact! “You know who I am, don’t you dare play games with me. Are you playing dumb or do you really not know who I am?” the question found more venom laced with her words, the more she advanced the angrier she became at their thoughtlessness.

Her chest jerked with every demanding poke, jeez, did she have to poke so hard? Amalia would shove her sister again before jabbing her finger into their collarbone in response. “A-Mal-iee-ahh!” She’d reply, jabbing then with her index finger with each syllable. “Do not sit here and tell me Mom never told you about me. I’m your little sister, you idiot! Is it coming back yet?!” she asks ramming her finger against solid bone to get her point across, rage taking over her mind conpletely.

The more this girl spoke, the more Cicilia's frustration and disdain for her continued to mount. Words had begun to blend together, her tone of voice being the only thing to add flavor to her mindless screeching. Only if Cicilia focused, could she make out intent and meaning behind this blonde, apparently named Amalia, and what she attempted to convey! Amalia would jump up and attempt to shove the Juggernaut back... but her efforts would be met with futility. Her shove would meet Cicilia as it would a firmly planted stone statue, her mighty physique absorbing the woman's shove and pushing right back, only serving to repel the young woman with equal force... or perhaps even a little more to account for her hubris. The German's "bloody" eyes only seemed to grow hotter with hatred the more this woman would proclaim a link to the De'Reignhardt bloodline, hate for her utter ignorance... but on two different levels. For someone BLONDE to declare that they shared blood with her family was like someone of Cicilia's eye and hair-color to proclaim themselves of the aryan race. With the only exceptions being those that married into the family, De'Reignhardts were known for their blood-red eyes and hair more black than pitch. Not one person in the family would tolerate such a deviation from the norm should it ever happen, let alone some nobody trying to gain admittance from the outside looking like that!

The second level of Cicilia's disgust... comes from the obvious and clear desire to BE a De'Reignhardt. Cicilia's blood was pure, her legacy affirmed and yet it was stripped away by her own parents simply because she lacked fighting talent. She was deprived of all her worldly wants and only given enough to sustain her needs, her body one built off of the pain and strife she had been subjected too by those that share and gave her name. Perhaps it was the money this Amalia girl wanted, perhaps it was the status that came with being born of someone of such caliber. Cicilia couldn't read this woman's mind but it wouldn't surprise her if she was only after the benefits of old-money royalty. What REALLY pissed her off, though, was that she came to HER in order to make her demands.

The outcast.

The weakling.

The trash discarded by her family. Cicilia had hidden away somewhere as far from Germany as she could hide... and even then, the malevolent claws of her bloodline could still reach her, all the way across the globe. She hated this girl... or rather, hated through her to the twisted beings that puppeteered her apparent identity, their name... HER name driving deluded fools to try and elevate themselves through them. Amalia would declare that she WAS Cicilia's sister... and all the German could feel... was violated. With every invocation of her family name, with each DECLARATION she was related to Cicilia... the juggernaut bore witness to her own identity being torn at, ravaged by the ignorant and the stupid. Cicilia, though she had tried to sever her family name, she still wore their symbol upon her back, her name still worn proudly as if to try and redeem it and, by extension herself. She was the loner, the orphan-of-sorts, a soul rent of its birthright with her only option to make something new.

...This woman, not unlike herself, a nobody, would fight not for herself... but for the name "De'Reignhardt" without even knowing what it MEANT! She wanted to throw her lot in with MONSTERS, whether she knew it or not!

...If ignorance was a crime, Amalia would have gotten the death-penalty.

"Enough!" The boxer roared, her voice WASHING over Amalia's, burying it, CRUSHING it beneath her own! Cicilia's hand would shoot up to GRAB Amalia's as it shot out to jab at Cicilia in retaliation, the boxer's grip CLAMPING around her wrist and squeezing it as if to CRUSH IT in her grip! JERKING Amalia's hand down at an agonizing angle, Cicilia would glare deeply into this... this INVADER, INSTRUMENT OF CORRUPTION upon her life.

"I don't know who the hell you are... but I only have one sister." Cicilia hissed, her teeth GRINDING with each word! "I don't want anything to do with you... or anything to do with her, understand? Now stay away from me... before I do something unkind." With that said as gently as she could make it, Cicilia would WRENCH her arm away from Amalia's and make for the exit of the gym. It suddenly stank of bluebloods and crazies in here.

Amalia couldn’t deny that her confidence was wavering. Even for the lowest ranking De’Reighnhardt, she was still so strong, her weak and meager push didn’t even phase them left alone move them even an inch. She was intimidated for sure but...she wanted her mom back, more than anything, she wanted to feel that love again, the happiness her father knew before her mom said goodbye for the last time. The blonde half blood was unaware of Cicilia’s circumstances, she knew only what she knew and as fast as that information went, she was still in the family. The anger and rage that the juggernaut gave off was proof enough, right? An outsider, demanding a challenge to recognized, it sounds too much like a set up or at least someone...going after...money..oh. This could be a problem.

She wondered if that was what she was thinking now. Thoughts of withholding trust to keep their name safe or to possibly brush hers aside. Wait, couldn’t she just be denying her? Maybe she did in fact know who she was, she was being defensive, maybe Cicilia was trying to keep her mom from her knowing full well that was what she wanted. That notion only seemed to instigate the roaring flame growing in her gut, she was being toyed with here, she had to be. Amalia would grit her teeth as prepared to stand her ground against her big sister, although, same height so perhaps that rule doesn’t apply?

ENOUGH!

Her body shook at the word. A memory flooding in on the account of it. Her angry father yelling at a startled young Amalia, who’d questioned her father about her mother whereabouts too much. Wondering when she’d be home again, for how long, and if she would take them with her again only to be dashed away with a single word. Her mind snaps from the dream with a sudden pain in her wrist, the juggernaut squeezed it tightly, seemingly trying to break it. Her wrist was shoot down back to her side but not without it’s aches. Cicilia was going to kill her wasn’t she?

Hearing she wanted nothing to do with her wasn't exactly she thought she’d say but nothing to do with Elfrida? Now that was surprising. Ripping her arm away and posing her threat, Amalia couldn’t let them get away not after she found her. With disdain, she grabs hold of their top again, attempting to pull them back with all her might. “I don’t give a damn what you say! You’re going to give her back to me Wether you like it! Or! Not!” She’d punctuate as she fires her fist blindly.

Before Cicilia could shove past this girl and escape this mind-rending torment, she would suddenly be JERKED back into position as Amalia SNAGGED her by her top-strap again! Not long after, the woman's fist would CRASH against the German's jaw, actually shocking her that this woman would just... assault her in broad daylight in front of this entire gym... many of which were looking their way, just as shocked as the Juggernaut! The hit itself JERKED Cicilia's jaw to the side, rattling her just the smallest bit, filling her brain full of confusion... and adrenaline! Instantly, all complex thoughts fled the boxer's mind, words images, desires. Only impulses controlled her now, her shock fueling her into defending herself from this crazy! The blow to her face, a bare-knuckled punch, left a bruise upon her cheek but Cicilia would fire back with a punch twice as powerful! JERKING into Amalia, Cicilia would bring her own fist up in a MASSIVE uppercut into her "sister's" stomach, aiming to BREAK her in half with this one mighty move! Should her punch connect, and the blonde would buckle, Cicilia would then raise her knee HIGH up into her jaw, aiming to CRASH into the underside of the woman's face and send her toppling to the ground!

It would only be after these two hits would sanity once again blink back into the boxer's mind, her emotions flaring up once more as she'd stare down a her foe.

"What the hell....!?" Cicilia growled, rubbing the back of her wrist across her wounded cheek and lips. "Who do you think you are!? I could have you in fucking CUFFS for that!" A bluff... but one with substantial social weight. Were the cops as competent as society believed they were, it would be a simple matter to haul Amalia to prison. She would see nothing but bars for multiple days, perhaps even weeks and Cicilia wouldn't have blinked twice.

...But what were the odds they would come to her rescue THIS time? Something was keeping them from helping her... Perhaps it was because she was German. Japan had a reputation for being less than... amicable with immigrants. It could also be that someone was paying them off too... She would bet Margaux had her grubby French mitts all over this town... and likely in her family business as well! If she found out Margaux sent this woman, she would... would... What could she even do? That woman has people with weapons, guns potentially, working for her! They probably worship the dirt that falls off her boots! Another agent she couldn't step around, another monster she can only fend off.

...Cicilia couldn't help but feel more and more boxed in... as if her breathing space was becoming more and more restricted...

"Do you genuinely think I had anything to do with your family?" Cicilia asked, her head steadily cooling, replacing rage and frustration... with jaded exhaustion. "I live in a fucking apartment. I'm barely scraping by! I don't know you or your mother! Who the hell said I did!?"

Amalia expected her punch to do a lot more than what actually transpired. Cicilia acres as of it did practically nothing to her, sure her head jerked a little and her jaw seemed a little out of place but other than that, nothing! She had to be dreaming, there was no way she was that weak, right? This was all just a terrible nightmare where everything was just falling apart, Yup, that’s it. Any second now....any second. She opened her eyes to find herself still in the gym, a shocked look from her sister turned into a fueled expression of hatred. The onlookers didn’t want to be apart of it, so no one would come to her rescue after what came next. The blonde practically bent herself over the uppercut burying into her stomach. Spit flew from her mouth and air squeezed out of her legs, forcing her to cough without it. The half-blood drops to her knees, gagging for air before a wicked knee eats her chin, sending her reeling backwards against the bench. Out of air and now in extreme pain, she’d lay against the floor coughing as she tries to recover. How could she be this weak that she fell to only two hits?! It’s not possible!

“You •cough• won’t do it. •cough, cough, cough.• I keep telling you who I am. •wheeze• but you won’t listen.” She felt like crying, this pain, it wasn’t like anything she’d ever had the displeasure of feeling. She’d sit up, shuffling her feet underneath herself to pick herself up. No matter if Cicilia was telling her the truth, things had already come this far, she couldn’t turn back and just say ‘oops, so sorry.’

The sensation in her stomach began to simmer, Amalia began to bounce on the balls of her feet slightly. In a flash, she’d attempt to quick step forward and fire two shots into the juggernauts gut, hoping to hammer away at that thick armor of hers. Even if she didn’t have strength, she did have speed on her side, maybe something her sister would lack. If she managed to clock in her ticket, she’d get greedy and go for another quick two shots.

If her hits connected, the blonde would back peddle to at least call the exchange even. Cicilia still kept going on how she didn’t know what Amalia was talking about, how she lived in an apartment and still just scraping by. The sudden heated exchange left her confused for a moment. “Wha-uh..Your mom, My mom! You took her from me! I never wanted the money or the fame, I only ever wanted her back home! But you two...you two stole her away! She never came back for us. You have no idea how I feel!” She screamed. Rage taking over her body completely as she dove forward to strike again, attempting a feint before shooting an uppercut into their chin with what she could hope to be a good blow, and stagger her sister.

Cicilia didn't take kindly to being called on her little bluff, Amalia having seen right through it and stating such through her gasping, raspy voice. She had brought the blonde to her knees in just two quick hits and still she would attempt to keep to her story, insisting upon it all... at the end of her fists. Amalia would rise to her feet on staggered legs, her whole body seeming to shudder under her weight before throwing her punches WILDLY, yet with some force at Cicilia's stomach! The first would connect with the boxer's iron abs, invoking little more than a wince from the German Juggernaut! Leaning back just a tad, the woman's knuckles would SLAM into her stomach like they would the trunk of a strong tree, the bark giving way only to reveal a much stronger core beneath! A series of 4, respectable blows would CRASH into Cicilia's gut and she would stand there and take it, a single raised eyebrow flashing across her exhausted, frustrated expression... before her own hand would shoot out, aiming to GRAB at Amalia's throat! With a low snarl, the German would step forward, wrapping her leg behind that of Amalia's taking it out from under her and CRASHING her into the ground in a mighty chokeslam that would BASH her against the pavement! Cicilia bared her fangs, an alpha to the beta, asserting her dominance over the ambitious upstart who dared to even think she stood a chance. Cicilia's sanguine eyes burned with annoyance, her stomach burning lightly with the repeated blows inflicted upon them, a light pain more aggravating than far-reaching!

"You're insane." Cicilia concluded, her voice sharp with judgement, pushing Amalia HARDER against the floor as if to flatten her against it! "I despise the De'Reignhardts,MY family. They are selfish monsters who almost killed me trying to turn me into something they can enjoy. You are a fool to believe they would accept you, even if everything you said was true, Amalia." Venom drenched every word the boxer spoke... coated with the pain of the experience-born scars that lined her both inside and out. "Even if you were my sister, they would take you into their clutches and rip you apart. Like beasts, they would rend you of your own wants and needs, strip you of who you want to be. They only want your ability to fight. No more, no less. You think mom cares about you...? She stood by as dad beat into me what the family name meant. She offered no respite when I was unconscious from exhaustion. No encouragements when I meant their standards, no appreciation for even trying. What you want, Amalia, is to die. You want to die and be made into their stupid, bloody puppet!"

Cicilia's voice raised, growing harsher... but softer, a hiss now softening into whisper... as the boxer's eyes grew wet... Her gaze seemed not so much focused on the blonde... but rather staring off into the distance around her, her focus... far away.

"You utter fool... You don't know anything..."