Despite All My Rage

All the beer she could drink, all the food she could eat.

A comfy chair to sit in.

A hot waitress bringing her food, one that didn’t mind a little groping.

A night of brutal cage fights to watch.

A hardcore championship belt in her lap.

Life was good. For the first time in a long time, Styx felt a sensation that she’d craved: Satisfaction.

It hadn’t come easy. She’d fought long and hard to get the hardcore championship. She’d wanted it for years, ignored every other belt and opportunity that came her way just to make this one happen. She’d come close a few times, only to have it snatched away from her time and time again. It was her own little white whale, the carrot that she kept chasing after, and it always seemed far away no matter how she ran. In the end, though, she’d finally caught the belt and made it hers, though not without some cost - namely, she had to take it off the waist of her best friend. Her only real friend.

Worth it? Yeah.

Styx came to that conclusion now, as she sat in the middle of this crowd of heathens beneath DIVE, one of Japan’s seedier bars, and one of many with a little cagefight operation going on below ground. Places like this tended to pop up around the Friction arena, driven by fans of the AFW who just couldn't enough of the sport and wanted a grimier, after-hours version. It was a poor imitation of the real thing, but enough people got a charge out of it that they were good business for bar owners, and when actual AFW wrestlers showed up, they were treated like royalty. Especially when they had shiny title belts to show off.

That was the case with Styx. She’d stepped in and promptly found herself with the VIP treatment - given the best seat in the house, an elaborate setup, not left wanting for anything. The crowd was pouring in tonight, just like the owner was expecting - people thinking that her presence here might lead to an impromptu nontitle match in their midst. They were going to go home disappointed if that was the hope, but they didn’t have to know that.

That being said, they were going to get something a treat tonight. While Styx wasn’t in the mood to fight, Abattoir was, and her fellow - an only other, for the moment - WAR member was currently entering the confines of the cage. She stalked around the perimeter as the crowd called for blood, scanning them for her next challenge. It was open fight night, and while it was hard to tell with the mask she wore, Styx knew her partner well enough. She was hungry. She was hunting.

It was just a matter of who would be stupid enough to step in and try their luck against her.

The crowd was hot, baying for blood and other stuff. One woman was amongst them, her name was Galina Romerno. A girl from a Russian Gypsy camp turned MMA fighter, she wasn't exactly of legal age to be in a nightclub in Japan. But Galina saw rules as rough guidelines at the best of times, one fake ID and the Rose of Russia was in doing stuff. She'd managed to swipe a bottle of beer for herself and chatted up a guy and nicked their wallet among other things and it wasn't even midnight at this point, old habits fell hard she reasoned. She was supposed to be making a good example for the MMA group she was with, but she decided a bit of good ol Roma larceny was alright. Sides she was one of many here tonight, simply looking for a good time. It was all well and good mucking about with some folks, but Galina was wanting to cut her teeth and get into some more action.

But that cage, that thing. Towering and imposing with wires, Galina licked her lips of her drink and saw someone head into it. Looked like someone from Russia even with that gas mask on, but it seemed that folks tonight were getting a bit of cold feet trying to step up against her. Galina though, she was eager. It might have been the buzz of Vodka in her combined with her natural instincts to want to get into the thick of things. She took a swig of it again, always did before a good scrap. Galina was dressed in what she'd call her usual fighting attire of a black sleeveless top with red jogging bottoms and blue and red laced black combat boots and gloves with steel bits on them.

"ME! ME ME ME I WANNA GO!!!" Galina said sticking her hand up out the crowd, a member of staff would walk with her to the cage door. The Gypsy would down her beer bottle and fling it behind her with the crowd dodging the crashing glass followed by her belching loudly, the door shut behind her and Galina cracked her knuckles. Ever eager to go the Rose of Russia had already stretched before stepping out today. This place was her kinda shindig, reminded her of the pit fights in her romany camp where she'd scrap with the other kids and the local hobos who were rewarded with whiskey to spar with her.

Galina made a bring it gesture and said in her Russian accented English "You! Me! Rumble! Now!" as she bounced back and forth and side to side with her fists clenched. This was what Galina needed after a good drink, a hard scrap with some chick that looked the part. Time to get herself stuck in with what Japan had to offer as it was go time!

Spoiler:

Abattoir hated this woman almost immediately.

The moment she heard that voice coming from the audience, she cringed. This was the sort of thing she was afraid of when she’d agreed to be tonight’s ‘entertainment’ on an open-fight night. She had been here before, more times than she cared to count. There was always some idiot in the crowd, someone looking to make a name for herself by defeating an actual wrestler, and she would have to send them home with broken bones so people could figure out how bad of an idea that was.

She sighed, a long drawn one as she looked away from the cage entrance. She supposed it couldn’t be helped, just a part of the process. She’d tear this idiot apart, and then maybe she could get someone worth her time.

When she turned around, however, she found that she had to amend her opinion. She had been expecting some waif of a tourist, some idiot girl from another country who didn’t have a clue what she was stepping into. Maybe her opponent was still that person inside, but if the outside was anything to go on, that wasn’t the case. Fairly muscular. Tough skin. Solid, firm. She had the look of a woman who wasn’t exactly a stranger to combat, who could take more than a single punch before falling. There was some promise, here.

That voice was irritating still, though. She’d see how this played out.

She took a glance up to Styx, who was watching this all with mild bemusement, before she took a few steps towards her challenger, eyes narrowing as she drew in closer. ”Who are you?”

Galina was raring to go, this sort of place was like familiar ground for the Rose of Russia. Where you fought in a big ol cage area in front of loads of folks late at night for shits and giggles, either that or to settle a dispute over something. The gal was intent on getting stuck in with the Tokyo fight scene, Galina wasn't intent on simply twiddling her thumbs while Friction eventually booked a match for her. Nah, Galina wanted to get a piece of action for herself.

The instant she saw that cage and this chick it put two and two together for her. It seemed that Abattoir was sizing Galina up, despite her less than excellent English it was clear from how the Rose looked that it was clear she was no stranger to combat. Abattoir looked no slouch herself either, something told Galina that the gas mask wasn't just for show. Good, Galina liked that.

Galina bounced around from side to side, to keep herself buzzed with that beer in her alongside the pre match vibes. Abattoir's narrowed gaze was met with a smirk from Galina, trying to see though her? The Rose was just gonna be a cool ice wall there, she asked who the girl was. To which Ms Romerno would say "The name's Galina. Nice mask there you look ready for a Siberian winter." Galina ever the brash lass decided to take a crack at the attire there.

She then flexed her wrists and said "You better live up to your attire lady, let's rumble!" now that the cage door was shut it was go time. Galina would shuffle more to the left away from the door, letting her arms get loose and ready. Galina then decided on a fast touch for her opening gambit, attempting to rush in close and deliver a quick shot to the upper chest area and attempt to dart back. It was a little greeting from Russia it seemed.......

”Galina.”

Abattoir repeated the name, as if making sure she heard it right. It didn’t sound all that familiar, but then, that wasn’t exactly surprising. Word-Of-Mouth could spread poorly through the underground, and it wasn’t like there was a message board or a Twitter or whatever she could log on to and learn about illegal, underground fighting arenas...not that she would care to use such a thing, even if it did exist.

So the woman before her was unknown quantity. That was okay. She just hoped it wouldn’t be disappointing. ”Abattoir.” She pointed at her chest, figured that was all that would need to be said, and took steps forward, preparing to go.

It seemed like Galina was a little more prepared, though, as she darted in before Abattoir expected, closing the distance with a deft step. Her guard came up on reflex, but it wasn’t quite quick, and the nak muay found herself taking a shot to the side. Not a heavy blow, far from the worst, but irritating.

Her mistake, her fault, she wouldn’t be making mistakes like that again. Abattoir took exactly one step back, then charged forward and retaliated, swinging her leg low for a kick aimed at the Russian redhead’s knee.

Galina was gonna show that she wasn't just talk and had some nice red hair on her, she'd give the folks here a night to remember. Like when she did her MMA debut and pretty much had a flawless victory on her part, nearly taking them down in the first round. So the Rose of Russia was more than capable, proving this by getting in a good shot against her opponent for tonight. First one as well, helped set the tone at least. So her opponent was called Abattoir? Not a normal name if Galina ever heard of one, must have been one of those fighters with a gimmick there. She'd heard this was actually pretty common here in Tokyo, back home it had come to a surprise that Galina had given herself her moniker based off her tattoos. But her promoter said it would help establish her across the land if she did so.

Either way Galina tagged Abattoir there clean, if that didn't motivate the gas mask gal the Rose didn't know what. Sure enough she moved into action, slinking down and going forward and managing to clip Galina in the knee. It sent a jolt through Galina's leg, sending her down into a crouching state with a loud grunt from the redhead. That was pretty fancy there, seemed there might have been a method behind Abattoir's madness just like Galina it seemed. Clever there.

"N-Not bad, should call you Gulag." Galina said, a smirk on her face even with the pain in her leg. She responded by rolling backwards, might as well go for it now that the Rose was sort of in a downed state after all. Still it gave Galina a sort of idea who she's fighting here, knew where to hit to make it hurt at least.......

”Stop. Talking.”

Abattoir pushed those two words out loud and clear, already irritated by her opponent’s flippant nature. This sort of thing was uncommon in the AFW, wrestlers turning into too-smart-for-their-own-good chatterboxes who didn’t seem to know or care that the camera couldn’t pick up most of what they said. She had hoped that, in a place like this, such things would not be a constant annoyance, but no - here was Galina, with the same annoying tendency.

So be it. She wouldn’t be talking much after Abattoir left her unconscious, which she was well on her way to doing.

When Galina rolled back, she gave chase, moved after her quick, not wanting to give her an inch to hang onto. The moment her foe came to a stop, he brought his foot up and shot it out hard, looking to plant the heel of her boot into her chest and send her down once again - for longer, this time.

"Can't, I've got some vodka in me!" Galina spat out at Abattoir, glad to know the Rose of Russia was clearly getting under the girl's skin. Even if she was on the short end of things at the moment Galina was the sort to talk shit when she felt like it, when your raised like she was you didn't take crap from no one and you spoke your mind. If you had a dispute with a fellow Roma the pair of you had it sorted in a fight and who won was right, besides Galina had that liquid courage in her blood at the moment and wanted to ride it out.

Galina was making to keep moving, try and get herself in a more favourable position. Her sparring instructors would advise her to stick and move best she could, it was the best defence to keep going when the Rose could. But Galina could tell Abattoir was smelling blood like it was second nature to her, heading in and blasting a kick out right at the Rose of Russia. With that roll Galina made earlier simply trying to dodge was going to be near impossible, so much for trying to keep on the move here.

But Galina wasn't a lightweight, she could hold her booze and take a good beating after it. She'd get her arms primed and grit her teeth, taking the kick hard in the chest and using her arms to grab hold of the leg. Christ that hurt though, Abattoir was indeed very stiff. Though the Gypsy would decide if Abattoir was so intent on trying to floor the Rose then she'd respond in kind, Galina would use the position to shoot out her nearest leg and try to kick out Abattoir's nearest one right out from under her!

The kick connected, so that was a point in Abattoir’s favor. Solid contact, too. She’d dropped more opponents than she cared to remember with this kick, the kind that had the bulk of her power behind it. A sure way to put someone down and set them up for something bigger - she was in a mood for armbars, maybe try for that. See how chatty Galina was when her shoulder was dislocated.

A pleasant thought, one that warmed the heart, and she was already prepping for it after her kicked connected, but those plans were put on hold when her leg wasn’t returned. Her opponent had managed to tank the thing, it seemed.

”Hm.” The impressive feat hadn’t gone beyond Styx’s notice, either, making her perk up from her seat and lean in. She’d taken that kind of kick from Abattoir herself, and she knew how badly it could ruin your day. That Galina could do take it and keep coming was...well, it wasn’t unimpressive, she’d say that much.

From her spot, Abattoir’s opinion was more basic, more focused on her next action. Before she could get that going however, her foe moved in and shot her leg out, tripping her up and bringing her down for a crash on her back. It was more disorienting than anything, but it left her open for a moment - a crucial moment.

Galina was tough if nothing else, you had to be if you were to live in the Russian countryside and survive its harsh winters among other things. So if she was between a rock and a hard place Galina had to be sure of one thing, that you could take the rock that hit you. Christ that kick hurt like hell though, Galina was gonna need a stiffer drink after all of this was said and done to numb the pain.

But her gambit and biting the bullet paid off here and she sent Abattoir crashing down to the mat, earning a loud cheer from the folks in attendance. If there was one thing the Rose of Russia loved it was that, the loud shouts. It reminded her of her Gypsy pit fights, granted it was against local hobos who agreed to fight for some whiskey. But still the roar of the crowd meshed well with the booze's buzz for Galina.

She got up to a sort of crouching and half standing form, one hand clutching her hit area. But Abattoir wasn't going to be down for long the Rose of Russia reasoned, besides Galina was never one to try and sit idly by. The Rose of Russia knew this wasn't the time to dilly dally, the Gypsy brawler decided to get a bit clever here. She'd get close to Abattoir and grab her by both legs followed by taking a deep breath and set her up to be flapjacked smack dab into the steel mesh walls of the cage!