A Hardcore Proposal

”Yeah.” Styx echoed, her voice going distant for a moment. ”That’s what happens when you go soft.”

Styx’s face hardened at the mention of being ‘dumped’, but she didn’t let that look linger for long, not wanting to lay any more cards on the table than necessary. The truth was that she hadn’t thought too much about Jessica that day, hadn’t contemplated much about what had transpired that day. She told herself that was because it wasn’t important - she had the belt, she had the one thing she’d been chasing since she came to Japan, what else mattered. But the more she thought about it, the more she wondered if it was her not wanting to think about it. Out of sight, out of mind.

It didn’t matter anymore. Not really. Jessica was gone, she wasn’t coming back, it was over between them. She could move on. But…

Fuck it, questions for later. She had more pressing shit to parse through.

”Sorry to disappoint, but yeah, that’s the whole story of it.” She sat back and did her best to ease into the chair. She was tempted to push up and stand, keep her and Christie on the same level, but she decided against it, still not crazy about moving too much like this. Besides, it seemed like she wasn’t the focus at the moment.

”I’m working on the first job. There’s this cowgirl, Julia Rogers, trying to make a little comeback. Old fan favorite, real popular, we’ve crossed before - I’m thinking we might make an example out of her, put Friction on notice.” She chewed her lip at the thought of settling that score, something she had itched for years ago. ”As for rank-”

Abattoir stepped forward before she could explain anything, moving towards Christie and getting in her striking range. She didn’t come in aggressive, didn’t throw a punch or anything extreme. She kept her gaze locked on their potential ‘teammate’, never wavering, looking into those feral eyes with her placid pair.

Styx looked between them, back and forth, then ran a hand over her scalp and thumbed up at Abattoir. ”No rank here, doesn’t work that way. Saying that, though, you two want to go at each? Figure out the pecking order? I won’t stop you.”

She wouldn’t dream of it. Really, a good fight was the sort of thing her nak muay could use, win or lose. It had been a good while since she’d had a match, and she could use someone that could keep up with physically, mentally, and just in terms of being a loon. All boxes that Christie Myers ticked.

Julia Rogers? Never heard of her. But then again, Christie hadn’t heard of or cared for many of the people in AFW. Some names came up so much that even the grave Keeper could say that she had heard of them, but this Julia was something new. A fresh name that Styx apparently had a score to settle, and was aiming to do so in a bombastic and probably messy manner. A part of Christie wanted to ask if Styx had lost to this Julia lady, or if her grudge against her was something else entirely, but decided to hold off. The two weren’t done talking yet, and while Christie hadn’t said it aloud yet, Styx’s offer sounded just fine to the Grave Keeper. After learning Styx’s drive to achieve her goals wouldn’t be held back by petty things like comradery, Christie figured she would be smart enough to be opportunistic and know how best to use her people. Christie didn’t mind lending her name to someone like that, in all honesty.

But just as Styx was about to clear up the pecking order, Abattoir decided to finally make an autonomous decision and move in front of Christie. The Malicious Marauder’s glare instantly flicked towards the sudden movement from the living doll, curious to find her within arms reach but doing very little else in the way of antagonizing Christie. It had become clear that the two didn’t get along, or at least had yet to figure out a way to interact with each other that wasn’t outright hostile. Christie just watched Abattoir stare at her annoyed expression for a few moments as Styx explained that there was no rank in the group. They were a team, but if the two wanted to fight, then she had no trouble with the idea. The two women just sat in silence as Christie’s scowl eventually morphed into a mean spirited smirk. She let out a quick snicker as she moved up closer towards Abattoir, leaning in close enough to hear her gentle breathing inside her mask.

“Well? Are you just going to stand there all day, or are you going to answer your master, Mutt? I’m not going to wipe your ass for you, so if you need something, get that fancy pacifier out of your mouth and say it!”

Christie would actually push her forehead against Abattoir. Her taunting smile was akin to a predator baring her fangs as the Grave keeper was acting far more aggressively then she had been moments prior. Even with her bad leg, she still somehow managed to seem just as antagonistic as when she first fought Styx. Only this time, there was a smugness about her. Like Christie genuinely didn’t think of Abattoir as a threat. The Grave Keeper just kept pushing the masked woman, daring her.

“Come on, Mutt! Say something! You had the balls to step up a minute ago, but you're still quiet as a bitch! Afraid of fizzling out in front of Styx? Because I’ve heard you’ve just been riding on her coat tail these past few months. Maybe I’ll get to open her eyes as to how useful you really are!”

Things were getting heated pretty quick! Christie was being merciless! Tearing into Abattoir without holding back at all! Mercy, decency, and kindness were burned at the stake, and the Sadistic succubus seemed to be waiting for Abattoir to either get in the game, or get out and walk out the door she came in!

This, Styx hadn’t seen coming.

Abattoir was...weird. The truth was, she didn’t know what went on in the woman’s head too often, couldn’t always make heads or tails of her. She honestly wasn’t sure why Abattoir hung around, what her goal was. All she knew for sure was that she’d beaten her bloody a long time ago - a long time, before she had even come to the AFW, and something about that beating made her snap and turned into the spectre she was today.

That was okay - she didn’t need to have a detailed, intense description of her teammate. Didn’t need to know what was going on in her head. All she needed was for the woman to do what she said when she said it. Couldn’t be simpler.

But this development, Abattoir stepping up like this, was a new thing. She knew Christie was baiting her, that couldn’t have been more obvious, but she didn’t think it would work. Any wall would fall if you banged on it long and hard enough, she guessed.

Christie pushed their foreheads together and Abattoir was forced back - at first. Then she pushed back, driving Christie back to the middle, keeping the two of them even in the center. Blazing eyes. She stayed that way, too, even as venom kept coming her way, the two of them looking like they could break into a fight at any second, and Styx wouldn’t have done a damn thing to stop it.

After a moment, though, Abattoir broke the tension, by giving Christie what she wanted: Words. Deep, raspy, throaty words.

”Saito. Two weeks from today. Be there.”

And that was all she said before she did an about-face and left the room, leaving Styx and Christie alone in awkward silence. Styx let that linger for a few seconds before she spoke up. ”Saito is a fight club. Couple of blocks from here.”

Christie didn’t mind a little bit of competition, even amongst allies. In fact, she felt starved of it since she had walked into this place and beaten her debut opponent in what felt like just a couple minutes. Like a hungry woman, she was looking for something to satisfy her, which Styx had finally managed to do. Others like Liberty had come close, but the ultimate victory only fed Christie’s already massive ego. She wanted another go at Styx, another taste of a challenge and that was why she was still here, in this room with the two women of WAR.

But that hunger for strength was not what this was all about. The way Christie looked at Abattoir made it clear that there were some negative emotions she was harboring towards the masked woman. Why, well that was unclear to the outside world. Only the Grave Keeper’s twisted mind had the answer, and even that was weirdly simple and vague. If Christie had to put it to words, she’d probably say Abattoir weird her out. The quiet woman who wore a mask she didn’t need, didn’t talk or hardly ever respond, and so far had shown she had the personality and charm of an actual block of wood.

And even that's a bit insulting...you could at least draw a smile on the block of wood.

Abattoir’s weird mix of creepy appearance and aggressively passive nature struck a nerve with Christie. The Grave Keeper wasn’t scared of her, and so the masked woman’s silence and general obedience to Styx came off as pathetic and submissive rather than foreboding or respectful. So Christie pushed her. She did it because she wanted to, and to see how Abattoir would react. She’d never taken the bait before, and just as The Grave Keeper wrote her off as a verbal punching bag, Abattoir finally stood up to her, in that silent little way of hers.

It was interesting! Something that finally got Christie’s attention. She had no idea how old Abattoir was, but it felt like a kid finally trying to stand up to a bully. Cute might have been the word Christie would have chosen if she didn’t use that word exclusively to disparage people’s efforts. So, Christie rewarded her with a confrontation. She pushed her more and more, even mimicking the intimidation tactic her and Styx had done at the start of the match. Christie was pretty much sporting herself with her one good leg, so when Abattoir managed to push her back to the center she wasn’t all that surprised. The real test would be when Christie got both her limbs back, but that wasn’t to say she wasn’t waiting for the masked woman to throw a punch. Christie was more than happy to give her a quick tussle and a tumble down to the broken glass jar Christie deliberately set up when she first came in. The rumor that Abattoir hadn’t fought for a good long time had reached Christie already, and while there were always other avenues to get a fight, it spoke volumes in Christie’s opinion.

And finally, after all the nudging pushing, and baiting, Christie finally got a response. The smug smile of hers slipped into a smirk, Christie cocking her head at the sound of the woman’s voice through her mask. Abattoir sounded like she hadn’t spoken for a long while, almost like she was congested and had a sore throat at the same time. But what was important was the challenge in her strange sounding tone. No sooner did it slip through that mask of hers then Abattoir turned around and left the room. Christie decided to celebrate by letting Abattoir’s first words be their last. The thin smile never left her lips as the masked woman walked out the door and closed it behind her, a chuckle escaping Christie’s maw as she pictured something that was likely too gruesome to describe in detail without sounding sick.

It was only when Styx piped up again that Christie returned her gaze from the door to the Champ. The fact that Abattoir had chosen a fight club of all places to have their showdown was a delicious bit of insight. It seemed that despite the masked woman’s quiet demeanor, she wanted an audience to witness what would probably be a destructive and bloody fight. A realm with hardly any limitations. If there was a better place to squash the Mutt, Christie couldn’t think of it! Christie’s gaze narrowed in a satisfied manner towards Styx, baring her fangs in a grin as she tossed her long black and crimson hair over her shoulder.

“Looks like I’ll have another chance to take something from you. Might not be as good as that toy, but cracking your friend open like an egg might be fun.”

With the two of them now alone, Christie didn’t seem so tense. Her posture was less aggressive, and the malice from her expression dropped considerably upon returning to the business that brought her and Styx together. Of course, there was still that lingering glare that rested on her beautiful face. But that had begun to seem as neutral of an expression Christie could actually make.

“But back to your little deal...I want to make it clear that what I want is the rematch, not that little toy of yours. I think the only way you’ll learn is if it’s ripped from those hands of your just how meaningless and wasteful the energy you put into it is. It’s a weakness for someone like you!” Christie purred, “You’ve worked hard for it, and in doing so fell right in line with the manager’s and the Heads in charge of this place. Of course, that’s just the opinion of a woman you’ve already beaten.”

The chilled chuckle made it clear that the wounding of Christie's pride bothered her more than the cuts in her leg. There was no mistake about the resentment she felt for Styx, despite her tone coming off as friendly.

“Point is, I think you’ve got more under that hood then you let on. More so than anyone else I’ve seen here. So, if I get another guaranteed chance to fight you at the end of this little group revolution you call WAR, then I’m willing to stick around. I’ll follow your rules, and help you and your Abattoir take out anyone who stands in your way of bringing this place down! All I ask in return is if you do lose your belt to someone else, then I want something of equal personal value on the line in our fight!”

Christie moved away from the wall, closer towards the center of the room where Styx sat.

“Of course, I don’t really think anyone here has the ability to take that toy from you before I do. I just want to hedge my bets, is all. If that all sounds acceptable to you..”

Christie’s hand reached down towards the hardcore champ, a cold weapon that had lashed out at Styx’s skull hours previously. A hand that seemed sculpted for beauty, yet used only for violence and inflicting pain on others. Christie was a threat, a lingering menace that had her own agenda...but rather than attack, her hand simply relaxed in front of Styx, an offering to the Champ.

“Then I hope to be of service to you...Well, service to you after I play with your girl in a couple weeks~”

Styx supposed, from a straight strategic way of looking at things, that this wasn’t the best idea. WAR was in kind of a flux at the moment, finally getting back up to three after Jessica’s leaving, meeting the bare minimum for a ‘stable’, and the idea of throwing her two teammates against each other in a cage match seemed dumb on the face of it. So many ways this could go wrong. So many accidents that could happen and bump them back down to two again. She trusted Abattoir about as much as she could trust anyone, but Christie was a new commodity, one she was still feeling out. This could blow up in her face, easy.

On the other hand, this was a powderkeg, one that was going to blow up sooner or later. She knew that look in Christie’s eyes, that itch that was nipping at her, and it was only going to get worse the longer they went on together. At least this way, she could light the fuse, control the damage, and deal with the cleanup. Just the cost of doing business, she supposed.

Either way, at least it would be entertaining.

She was about to stand up and leave - or attempt, to, anyway - intent on finding the nearest alcoholic beverage and drinking an unhealthy amount of it. That was when Christie’s words gave her pause. The woman had something left to say, it seemed. A lot. And Styx couldn’t say she liked all of it.

Though she couldn’t deny wondering how much of it was true. It was something she had thought of herself more than a few times, wondering if the belt was holding her back. She had wanted it for so long, sacrificed so much to get, but she was starting to feel like a dog chasing a car. Now that she had it, so what? What was the end goal? There had to be something beyond the finish line, right?

She wasn’t sure, but she was sure that, whatever the answer was, she wasn’t going to find it being weak, and she didn’t want to not have the belt when she did. It was power. It was control. It would be hard remaking the AFW with, but impossible without. Styx needed every tool she could get her hands on.

Styx stared at the outstretched hand for a moment, as if Christie had offered her an alien artifact, almost unsure of what to make of it. She cooled soon enough, though, and reached out to take, grasping the woman’s hand in her own. And squeezing, of course. Exerting power. Not her full strength, but enough to get the point across. ”Until next time, then. Welcome to WAR.”

“Of course.”

Styx was brave enough to take Christie’s hand, the champion making a point to put some pressure in her grip as a subtle reminder of who was in charge. For once, the Grave Keeper didn’t resist. She had gotten what she wanted out of this transaction and even something of a bonus. Styx seemed to be the cold, calculating woman she fought in the ring even as she was stuck in that chair. The long leash she gave Abattoir and the fact she never stepped in to stop Christie told the Grave Keeper much about the type of leadership Styx was after. A simple impression, where Styx seemed to let her subordinates do as they wished even to each other, so long as they could carry out her orders in the future. A very hands off approach, but one Christie was certain she’d see the other side of at some point in their partnership. What an interesting sight that will be…

But Christie’s word was her bond. If she said she would do something, then she meant it. She’d work with WAR, listen to what Styx had to say from time to time...but that also meant she would fight Abattoir in that cold, dingy place named Saito. Every threat, every taunt she had made against the masked woman would be put into practice and made into reality, should the Grave Keeper have her way.

But, recovery would be what was on her mind. Christie didn’t bother helping Styx up, simply giving her new partner a wave of her hand as she left the woman in her seat, alone in a room. Abattoir would likely be nearby, hiding with whatever medical equipment Styx might have needed to walk. Christie sped the way the Champ nurtured her wounds, something she probably should do with her own bad leg. Instead, Christie managed to hold a stoic expression as she walked down the halls away from her room and slip into a staff room, finally sitting down and hiding the agony that burned through her leg!

Don’t get too cozy Styx! Time goes by faster than you expect, and when I get you back in that ring, things are going to be much different from last time! Next time, I’ll show you who’s in charge!

To be Continued…