Of Waifs And Strays

This wasn’t the first time someone had made the unwise decision to laugh in her face. Margaux equated the odd temptation with inexperience, the type of reception she received all too often during her early rise in France. The thought of a blossoming young woman destroying several of the hardest organizations with little more than incentive and bloody knuckles was all too amusing for them to bear, she supposed. They surely found it less amusing in the moments when they found themselves laid low before her eminence, coughing with mouths full of blood and ready to be sent to the Great Beyond alongside the rest of the fools.

Sabrina was a fool, just like the rest of them. The American simply couldn’t see the forest for the trees with that short-minded ambition. Living carelessly from one fleeting moment to the next. As she gave her eloquent reply, Margaux felt her eyes beginning to glaze over with disinterest. Her mind was peeling off in several ways as to the most efficient way to dispose of a corpse that would allow Margaux to enjoy her bath even quicker. She had settled herself on one method before Sabrina’s words caught her once again. Her eyes widened and looked back to her guest, looking intently back with that curious word fresh off her tongue. ‘Friend’.

"You consider yourself...an equal?" Margaux could only pause at the proposition. The notion in itself should have been enough to throw the Frenchwoman into a hysteria of laughter.

And yet she didn't. There was nothing but silence and silent understanding of the words that reached her ears. The intent behind the blonde pugilist's suggestions wasn’t out of personal gain or greed. There was no long-term strategy formulation within that bruised cranium that lived from thrill to thrill. She was sincere about what she wanted out of Margaux. The Frenchwoman's mismatched eyes regarded Sabrina with unique interest.

She was being challenged. Amusing.

"How interesting. Your desire for death surpasses even the most basic forms of logic." Margaux chuckled to herself and rested her cheek against her bruised knuckles. Every time she believed she had this woman nailed, Sabrina found a way to defy her expectations yet again. She may have been the single most interesting competitor in Momentum. Aside from that one.

There was a slew of ways tonight could end. In tragedy, in comedy, in relief, in romance. But in the end, Margaux had to concede: their time was not done.

“Then I shall grant your wish. Allow us to change these terms.” Margaux leaned forward and matched her gaze to Sabrina’s. Only inches were spared between them as her eyes twitched with a renewed, mad vigor. “Bareknuckle fighting. Until one collapses. If you can best me, your terms will perhaps be found agreeable. Friendship, camaraderie, sisterhood. Whatever frail relationship you expect from this encounter will be yours. However, if I am - once again - the victor this evening...you are mine. Your knuckles to bloody my enemies, your mind to dictate as I wish, your body to serve my every need.”

Margaux chuckled darkly to herself, a familiar one that she’d given earlier this evening. “Tu cesseras d'être, Sabrina Anderson.”

The simple life was truly where it was for Sabrina. Though, that wasn't the first time she had been told it wasn't suitable for someone with so much talent and skill. Honestly, the idea of being a champion, going toe-to-toe with the greatest fighters in the world, sounded appealing to some, but she sort of lived for the simple life. It was just that simple. Fight, make some decent cash illegally, pay off bills, the cat, the cheap garage, and rinse and repeat while doing what you wanted. Wasn't it the point?

Still, her newest companion for the night didn't seem too interested, but she didn't much care. She said what she said and if they didn't agree, they could move out the way or get a taste of her skull.

Nevertheless, Sabrina just gave her former opponent a simple shrug. "Yeah, pretty much. That's what friends are. Don't go calling me an idiot either, alright?"

Though, in her defense, Sabrina preferred street smarts over book smarts and eloquence. She was a little dense at times, not sexually at least, but she knew when she had to take a conversation apart or consider her actions. Of course, if she was aware of the bodies that truly littered this woman's feet right before her?

She'd probably still be the same, only ten times as brash...

Nevertheless, Sabrina scoffed a little and dismissed Margaux's small chuckle. "You know, a lot of people have said that and I still surpass their expectations. Sides, the Underground's always been rough, but it only takes being a little unique to make the cut and claw your away above it all, doesn't it?" She chuckled and gave her newest prospect of a companion a bright grin and a sharp thumbs up. "Not to mention that if it took you a while to pound out a girl on the floor unconscious, it'll take a lot more to kill 'em, wouldn't it?"

She wasn't sure how this would go. She was banking on making a new friend, maybe a new rival, but she wasn't aware of the fact that she was making friends with a snake. Perhaps, in a way, it was because snakes were the best sort of friends she's had in her life.

And then Margaux proposed her terms. The most simple, straightforward, and 'honorable' way anyone settled their disputes in the Underground. A good old-fashioned match of bare-knuckle boxing. It didn't stop until someone collapsed and unless you weren't down, you were likely to get pounded till you were down or...

Permanently out. She had seen it. She had nearly done it too.

And the deal was her newest opponent's friendship or her freedom lost and gone in exchange for carrying out the chick's orders. A smarter person would have stepped away. A smarter person would have gone back to trying to live her life normally.

Sabrina wasn't a smart person. She was an Undergrounder, born and bred through and through.

A thin line crossed her lips.

"I'm not seeing the issue if I'm winning fights and having fun. Ain't that what you said about chaos and freedom or all that crap you preach?"

"Sabrina, if all you do is go about life in a few seconds, ya miss out on all the action. It's about the struggle and overcoming the challenge that makes being a fucking human kick ass."

"I'm kicking ass."

"But, don't you want something to challenge you? Really make you grin a grin worth a row of teeth? Take that blood in your mouth, swallow it, and go spill somebody else's, eh?"

For the first time in a long time, the words of her second finally made a little sense. A long grin full of canines shined brightly as Sabrina glanced to her opponent for the future, their faces still so close, lips practically a breath away as violet eyes met Margaux's. A Rabid Hound stood before a calm one ready to tear into their neck, their size overwhelming...

And yet, they bared their teeth.

"We settle this the way us Undergrounders do. Till our knuckles split, till our faces give, till our bones crack and break, and till we can barely breathe. You and me till one of us can't fight no more." And with a simple chuckle, she smiled softly. "I look fucking forward to beating your ass within an inch of your life and shaking your hand the next day, Marg."

And, despite the stakes, Sabrina had never felt such excitement thrill her heart till tonight.

Margaux should have done this from the beginning. She knew that Sabrina preferred action to theory. There were very few people she could understand to grasp the bountiful prospects a future at her side would entail. Much fewer would suggest "friendship" with the woman that broke carved open INTERPOL skulls for ornate garden decorations back home.

Sabrina was not most people. She looked death and disaster in the face with a smile and wore the scars on her body with a sense of pride that Margaux hadn't seen since her younger years. It had to be acknowledged, even rewarded. It was the mindset that more in her organization needed to replicate. But did it warrant anything more than that?

There was one way to tell.

"Then follow me, Chienne." She curled her finger at the blonde thug, stretching a devious smirk. "Let us see what your bite is truly worth."

She canted her head towards the adjacent hallway before she walked out of the room. The Frenchwoman would lead Sabrina to the second door down. Margaux stepped inside with the door to her back, inviting her American guest inside with a quaint smile and a beckoning hand.

The floor was matted from the doorway to the back of the room. The walls were padded halfway to the ceiling on each side. Despite appearing relatively new, the matting was already showing signs of wear with noticeable tears and faint red stains that stuck out vividly against the brilliant blue. At the center of the space was the outline of an octagon, a marked boundary that gave some illusion of structure to the bouts that took place between these walls. Adjacent to the doorway was a stand for several pairs of boxing gloves of various sizes and colors. Just beneath on a separate rack was an equally colorful arrangement of fingerless gloves and hand tape.

The second the Frenchwoman shut the door behind them, she peeled her blouse and shorts away to reveal a familiar sports bra and shorts set underneath. She grabbed a roll of pink tape from the rack and moved to the center of the octagon. She focused her attention solely on her hands as she made sure to properly wrap them with the right folds and execution. The process was completely second nature, but the motions helped guide her thoughts. Stir the imagination and picture the many ways she could leave Sabrina on the floor with a throat stuffed with her blood.

“I still have no idea that means and I’m starting to think it’s something about me being a dumbass, ain’t it? It is, isn’t it?” Honestly, it was the first thing that came to mind, but she didn’t once miss or even detest the devious smirk that came across her former, now current once more, opponent’s face.

Margaux was someone different.

Sabrina wasn’t inexperienced to say the least of crime and all the shit that run. She had met and seen bad people on the streets. She had pounded and cracked skulls once more, but she never once went farther than self preservation rather than joining up with a group. Could she have made it far? Honestly, it was a real possibility, but it never once offered her something more…

Didn’t feel right to boot either considering how shit the streets were. Why make ‘em worse?

She didn’t know much about Margaux and still barely understood the truth of the bodies that lay behind this woman. Regardless of what she didn’t know and what she did know though, Margaux was ultimately just as human as her.

Sabrina stood up and walked right after her newest possible companion, looking over to the hall before she was presented toward the second door. Once Margaux had popped it open and invited her, the black-streaked blonde took her first steps inside and whistled in appreciation the moment she made it in.

“Jeez, you’re really banking in on bigger cash than I am, that’s for sure. I’d almost kill for the money I’d make under you,” she spoke in slight admiration, going over the worn and stained canvas right beneath her feet. Honestly, this place just gave off the same homely vibe she got fighting back home. She was sure she could see that her new ‘friend’ had dragged a lot of people here and she was pretty sure, judging by her track record, that Margaux was the one who had shown them her ways pretty thoroughly if her style and methods were anything to go by.

“Shame we’re gonna be friends after I beat the living crap outta ya and you’re choking on blood and teeth.” Sabrina’s confidence was astounding, especially considering the fact she had lost a bout to this outstanding fighter not too long ago today.

She heard the door shut behind them and spun around slowly, watching as Margaux stripped herself free of her clothing to showcase the very same sports bra and shorts she had worn to their bout before. So, she had wanted a fight regardless, hm? She couldn’t help but chuckle and walk straight over to the rack after Margaux, all while peering at the trunks she wore to their bout earlier, her topless chest left to taste the air.

“Thank Christ you at least don’t bitch about me going topless.”

She decided to grab a roll of standard tape for herself, walking right to the center of the octagon afterwards.

She was staring at Margaux as she wrapped her hands properly. Even at this point, after so long, it was instinctual when it came to wrapping her hands. Her grin never wavered, but Sabrina was eyeing Margaux like a piece of meat…

This was where their ideals would clash.

And Sabrina wasn’t gonna lose.

The cost of preparedness will forever be measured with grief and blood. Margaux never went anywhere without exactly what she needed. It wasn't part of her nature to lose her wits and guile. She had become far too well acquainted with the absolute worst of humanity to see anything other than envy, greed, and unfettered antipathy behind every gaze and passing remark. The world was full of undesirables and self-loathing. It was a dangerous place to wander without knowing how to turn that disdain to one's advantage.

Enter Sabrina. Her lust for the sight of Margaux's blood and bones was almost palpable on the Frenchwoman's fingertips. It was rare to find a talent so single-minded in pursuit of pleasure. Steeped in the gluttony of the darkness all around her.

Grasping her motivations was so simple it was nearly perplexing, forcing the pinkette to ponder quietly as she wrapped the final strand around her wrist. Her mismatched eyes followed the American as she approached. Was this just a whim of hers? Did Sabrina honestly think she could beat her?

An amusing thought, but not one she would entertain forever.

"Do not overindulge in your inevitable failure, cherie. Once was perfect, twice is decadent." She said simply, unfazed as the American disrobed in front of her. The boldness was another thing she had come to admire. Amongst many aspects of this curious character. When the two met face to face in the center of the octagon, there would be no ceremony. No official to count them in.

All Margaux would offer was a single fist, reaching out to Sabrina. Underground etiquette.

Or so it would seem, before that fist drew back and swung around, smashing into the American's jaw.

Margaux was definitely on the darker side of the spectrum. She hadn't been a clueless idiot the entire time in her life. She knew she lived a pretty shite life and it was full of hardship and struggle, but it made her all the stronger for it despite the lack of maternal love she wanted from her mother at some point. She was still a woman of action and she loved nothing more than her life and focusing on that first and foremost. She sure as hell wasn't a saint, but she wasn't a monster either. Sabrina was just someone who was willing to live life the way she saw fit and she had no issues in pursuing her goals, no matter how selfish they might be rather than selfless.

Margaux was a conundrum, to a degree, in her eyes. She talked fancy, spoke the talk, and even carried herself as if she were better. Yet, despite all that, their time in the ring made itself clear. Only someone who grew up with blood in their teeth and dirt on their hands could fight the way Margaux did. Sure, you had people play dirty, but the way Margaux and her fought?

No, that was something only someone from the grounds would do...

Sabrina tightened and fastened her wrappings with a single curved finger, feeling the tightness of them around her hands to near wrists as she grasped at the air, over and over again. She was going to pulverize Margaux tonight. Hell, she may have won their first bout, but Sabrina planned on showing her that this little bout of theirs, their deal, was gonna hers to win tonight.

"Heh, alright then. Whaddya call me beating your ass then, poodle?" She slammed her fist into her open palm and just imagined the satisfaction of landing that said fist into Margaux's face until she was making sausage between her fingers. Sabrina stood proudly before her opponent at the center of the octagon, her eyes peering to Margaux's with an insatiable thirst for a good bout...

Even as Margaux offered her fist, Sabrina was long since past that trick since their first introduction.

Sabrina was ready to meet Margaux blow for fucking blow here. By the time Margaux was drawing her arm back, Sabrina had already done the same, grinning brightly as she brought her arm from below and flung it like a missile straight for Margaux's chin, slamming her taped knuckles right into that lovely jawline just as another fist SMASHED into her jaw, her head whipping to the side with a slew of spittle...

It had only just begun.