Boss Rush [ Silvio + multiple character CD ]
Dec 9, 2020 0:01:12 GMT -5
The Madness Menagerie, Jon Willis, and 4 more like this
Post by mystifyingoracle on Dec 9, 2020 0:01:12 GMT -5
OOC: Thank you to: Super Smash Cat Inc , Axton Gunn , DistortedAmber , mac , The Madness Menagerie , Jon Willis , Mitch 'The Broken' Heart , @adriennelevi ! Couldn't have done this without y'all and I appreciate you taking the time. Enjoy, everyone! We're gettin' our MegaMan/Shonen anime feels on up in here.
Boss Rush
Okay, maybe Dom and Ax would be willing to play a little dirty pool, but he didn’t think they’d take it too far.
CUTE STUNT WITH THAT THREE DEFENSES LIMIT YOU’RE PUTTING ON YOURSELF.
Silvio rolled his eyes. “It keeps me honest and you in check.”
It was a compromise, really. Spooky wanted him to excel in the company and, well, Silvio definitely wanted gold. It was so, temptingly close now.
He just had to beat Ken Davison. The self-proclaimed god. The guy who regularly ate company stalwarts for lunch.
Well.
Silvio had a bit of taste for that particular fare, himself.
Regardless, he knew from his previous title shot at 100 that Big Boss Spookitude wasn’t going to let him turn an opportunity down without serious consequences. The problem was Silvio had no idea what might happen if he actually had Carnage gold in his hands. How long was it safe to hold it before something happened to him? How bad would his craving for Spooky’s highs get and what would he do to maintain them at peak potency?
He didn’t want to take any chances. This way, he could have a run, but be held accountable for vacating the title if and when the time came.
But he couldn’t put the horse before the cart. He had to win the thing, first.
Ken had demonstrated he didn’t seem to bother looking up much about the newer additions to the company. His read on Ade had been completely off if not outright offensive considering he’d compared his infantilization to her objectification. Then again, this was also the guy who suggested Amber sell sex tapes, so maybe women’s studies weren’t really his strong suit. He would probably have dismissed Silvio in a similar way, not bothering to do his homework, but the Oracle bared his teeth a little in that interview. If Ken hadn’t taken him seriously before, he might be reconsidering now. At this late hour, any strategy he could come up with would be rushed. From the outside, that might have seemed good, but the truth was, it could cause some serious problems. Ken would be unpredictable; brash. He’d probably try and cut Silvio off before he had a chance to get into his flow state. If that was the case, then the best thing the Oracle could do under those circumstances was broaden his options. So, after a night of straining, steeping, and blending almonds, cinnamon, rice, and sugar, he strode into the arena, hoping his peace offering would be enough to convince Cat to give him a hand.
At the moment Cat’s own hands were busy gripping the tops adjacent to one turnbuckle, holding her in place while she did a headstand. Her legs were mostly straight, making minor adjustments when she felt her center of gravity slip one way or another. Happy with the practice run she sprang back into the ring, landing on her feet and sliding to the mat cross-legged. She snatched a water bottle from underneath the bottom turnbuckle and took a drink.
“Nice!” Silvio said with a grin as he entered. “Your guys’ match is going to be phenomenal.” He shrugged, raising a brow. “Not that that’s any difference from the norm.”
A cough echoed through the empty arena, as Cat choked on her water. She blinked away a few years from reddening eyes that shot to Silvio, but still tried to maintain the poise befitting lucha royalty. “Thanks,” she said, fighting through another couple of coughs. “I’m feeling less confident than usual, but maybe I do better under pressure.”
“Nothing from Marlowe?” Silvio asked, brow knit. The poet’s disappearance wasn’t necessarily surprising initially - maybe he just needed some time to himself. That it had gone on so long though was worrisome.
“Nope,” Cat said, rolling her water bottle back under the top turnbuckle, where it stopped at the ring post with a clunk. “So it looks like I might have to beat two teams by myself. Or not…” She let the word hang in the air, grimacing at the idea of losing.
“Let me know if I can do anything to help find him. This is just...weird. He doesn’t seem the type. I know the other teams in the fight would want a clean win over you guys.”
Okay, maybe Dom and Ax would be willing to play a little dirty pool, but he didn’t think they’d take it too far.
“Believe me - I know how you’re feeling right now. In more ways than one, actually.”
He drew his backpack around to the front, opened it up and pulled out a liter bottle.
“It’s rough being away from home this time of year, so I thought maybe you’d like a little something festive. Good horchata’s hard to get up here - usually it’s just the powdered stuff. I made some extra if you’d like it.”
“Thanks, bro,” Cat said, springing back to her feet. “Eating and drinking always helps. So what’s the deal? You want me to teach you a super secret lucha technique, maybe something I learned in the mountains of Mexico from some thousand-year-old dude who’s so powerful he only fights with one hand?”
“That would be freakin’ sweet if you could, but honestly, I’d be fine with learning one of your favorites, too. Everybody I’ve fought with and alongside so far has brought me where I am right now. I want to take folks with me into this fight; everyone who helped me get here. I figured you’d be one of the best people on the roster to show me. You’re basically a walking encyclopedia for all of this; probably running the ropes from the time you were a zygote. And I was kind of thinking like...you know how at the end of MegaMan games you gotta fight all the robot masters again? Kinda had something like that in mind. Sort of a boss rush, if you will.”
She leaned against the turnbuckles, sizing Silvio up. “You’ve already got a flippy nuclear top-rope move, so you wouldn’t need the Silver Arrow. The Cata-Clysm isn’t the easiest thing to learn if you’re pressed for time. So I’m gonna recommend the Massacre at Melrose, shamelessly co-opted from Marlowe’s Massacre at Paris. The too-long, didn’t read explanation is that it’s a knee to the face. Which is a solid, no-bullshit way to knock someone unconscious.”
“That sounds perfect,” he said with a smile. “Thanks for helping me with this. If I manage to pull this off, I would really like it if you’d be one of my challengers. You deserve a shot.”
Gripping the top ropes, Cat pulled herself forward into a stretch. “I appreciate it and if I survive this ladder match you’re on.” She let the ropes go and patted her right knee. “Lesson one, the knee goes in the face.”
“Fuck me up, teach.”
“He’s gone?”
Silvio gaped openly at Mitch. Christ, no wonder he wanted booze.
“Did he...give...give you any reason?” he stammered.
“Lemme see what the fuck excuse he had…”
Fiddling with an empty shot glass with one hand, he brought up Twitter and, with gritted teeth, opened his private messages.
“Here we go. Quote- ‘I'm stepping away from Carnage, Mitch. I'm not leaving Baltimore. I'm not leaving you. But between Jack, the constant shit with C$J, the wars? Its put me in a head space I've tried evading and ran off someone I've come to let myself care about.’ I mean, not like there were people here that could’ve helped him through that shit but no, you gotta fuck off to wherever while doth protesting too much.”
He shut the app, jamming his finger against the screen with more force than he had to before dropping the phone onto the table, refilling the glass.
“Fucker.”
Silvio sighed, running a hand down his face and tapping his own empty shot glass against the top of his kitchen table.
“...If that’s what he needs to do, then that’s what he needs to do. I’m...fuckin’ sad about it, but…maybe more than that...”
He shrugged helplessly.
“I hate how familiar it feels.”
“What, you a member of the Daddy Ditch Club too?”
He tossed back the shot, letting it burn all the way down. Maybe it would eventually burn out this empty, cold feeling. Not yet, though. He refilled the glass.
“Sure am,” Silvio said, refilling his shot with rum before lifting it salute. “He even blamed me for making him go. I guess being upset about driving your drunk dad home in his car with the breathalyzer in it at 2AM when you’re sixteen is just a bridge too far.”
He knocked back the shot and sighed as the tang of molasses rolled warm in his mouth.
“That’s fun.”
The sarcasm was obvious, and the Broken’s nose wrinkled a bit with disdain.
“I never knew mine. I still don’t. He could be anybody. Mom didn’t want to tell me when she was sober and she couldn’t now if she wanted to.”
Sighing, he ran his fingers through his hair.
“I don’t… want to make light of what you went through at all. Your old man sounds like a top shelf dickbag. But… like, if you look in the mirror, you can look at your features and know where they came from and why. I got my mom’s eyes and hair. You ask me where I got this nose, where this crooked smirk comes from? It’s a blank. Half of me is fucking… void. And I feel it every single fucking day like I’m being eaten alive inside.”
He didn’t know if he’d ever said it aloud like this to anybody. Maybe he was being overdramatic. He blamed the booze. Didn’t mean he was going to stop, though.
Another splash of amber liquid was tossed into his mouth.
“I understand. That’s a different kind of pain. Kinda get that from my own roots. Dad was half Native, half white and mom was Peruvian. But we never really connected to those cultures. I had to do a lot of research myself to learn about my background. I wish I could have gone to pow-wows or gotten the opportunity to learn my ancestral languages.”
He shrugged.
“Well...we both got matches to take this out in coming up.”
“That’s true. King wanted to punch it out with me but I didn’t take him up on it. I’m just gonna bottle it up and stay fuckin’ angry and then let it explode all over my match. Which, y’know, I’m sure is the healthy way to deal with shit like this.”
He laughed, one of the few times he’d done so since Matt had sent him those messages.
“...I want this, Sil. I really want it. For myself, and… Jesus, I’m just thinking how much the champion’s bonus would change Pen’s life for the better. I wouldn’t have to scratch and claw so fucking hard to make things good for her, y’know?”
Silvio nodded.
“I know you have your reasons. Everybody does. I’ve been with you every step of the way, and I’m not fucking going anywhere any time soon.” He exhaled, leaning back in his seat. “If you don’t mind, I’d kinda like to take you into mine, if I can. If you’ll be my teacher again.”
“Not at all. Though I don’t know if I have a lot to give that somebody else don’t know better.”
He rubbed the back of his hand with his fingertips. The broken heart was healing nicely.
“I’m with you too.”
There was a heaviness to the words. A weight and a warning- I trust you deeply, but the next person to break that trust is gonna ruin it for everybody else.
He nodded. “Cool. Wanna teach me how to make the most of punching a dude in the heart when I’m under 200 pounds?”
Mitch grinned that crooked grin that came from some unknown place spreading over his face.
“Keyword is momentum. Tomorrow when I’m sober I’ll be glad to show you how.
Silvio knocked back another shot of rum. “Kick my ass, Ace of Hearts.”
“You gonna be okay doing this with that tattoo still healing?” Silvio asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet, standing across the ring from Axton.
He’d recommended Axton wear a singlet for a little while to better protect the artwork and he’d placed a protective layer of saniderm over the whole piece, but he’d hate to put the artwork at risk.
“Oh yeah.” Axton looked perfectly confident, shooting Silvio a grin as he rolled and cracked his shoulders. “Most of it’s not really in a place I’m gonna be stretching all that much for this. It’s more technical than it is a strength thing, so I figure it’ll mesh real good with your style.”
Silvio nodded. “It’s pretty rare I’m actually taller than my opponent,” he said. “He still outweighs me, though. So, how do we do this, Summer Eyes?”
“I hope you’re ok with this,” Axton said, his expression and tone suddenly serious. He stepped toward the center of the ring. “But I’m gonna have to touch you a lot to show you how this works.”
“Why, Mr. Gunn,” Silvio gasped, placing a hand on one cheek. “How very forward of you.” He moved closer to the rock star, dropping his hand and grinning.
Axton broke his deadpan expression with a little giggle, readying his stance. “Ok. So like I mentioned earlier, Drop the Bass is basically a modified Mouse Trap pin. If you’re face to face like this, start by grabbing their arm like this, and duck under to get behind it…”
The Rockstar demonstrates by taking Silvio’s forearm--more gently than he really would in the ring--and swinging under it. He points down at the ground, where his right foot is slightly in front of Silvio’s left leg.
“You should step about here, ‘cause you’re gonna hook the leg like this. Get your ankle around the calf and drop your weight forward. This the ‘bass’ part, because you’ll wanna drop your other foot like you’re gonna propose to Skrillex the second your opponent hits their knees, for the loudest impact. Brace yourself.”
And with that, Axton hooked his arm around Silvio’s shoulders and pitched forward. There was a loud THUMP as both men hit the canvas, Silvio on his knees and Axton with one foot up to keep the pressure on.
Silvio let out a little grunt as he collided with the canvas. “Yyyeah,” he said with a strained laugh, “I can see where that modification comes in handy.”
Axton grinned--the modification did, in fact, give him more downward leverage, making it very difficult for Silvio to slip out or stand up.
“This next part is gonna happen real quick. Title of your sex tape--ok watch my leg here.”
“Uh, title of our sex tape.”
Axton neatly slid his bracing foot under Silvio’s arm--breaking his own balance but forcing Silvio to roll with him, putting The Oracle up on his shoulders in a neat stack.
“Yes. Our sex tape. Now to prevent you from just flipping out I’m gonna lock my ankles up here on your leg,” he grunted, doing just that. “Then just try and keep your hand on the ground--like this--to keep their shoulder down. Best way out is to kick up.”
With a huff, Silvio did just that, shaking out his limbs.
“Oooh, Mr. Gunn, you are so flexible.”
“You’d know.” Axton blew him a kiss, looking a bit smug as he stood up. “Think you can try it on me now?”
He grinned, tapping his nose. “Babe, you already know I can be tangled up with you for hours.”
“You’re so cute,” Axton cooed, cupping Silvio’s jaw fondly and putting a peck on his lips. “But seriously, pin me.”
He snorted, taking the moves Axton had shown him at speed and bringing the rock star to the floor. “You always were a power bottom.”
“Soooo...Disneyland?”
Silvio grinned at Adrienne as he tightened the laces on his boots.
Ade, still in a CW hoodie and black leggings, smiled in kind.
“Yeah.”
Barely able to contain her excitement, Adrienne added, “She’s in line to get in right now.”
“You have to take a million photos while you’re there. And you gotta eat all that cool stuff they serve. I’ve never been but I hear the food scene there is amazing.”
If anyone deserved credit for helping Silvio get to where he was today, it was The Set. Knox might have been gone and he was still stinging over the revelation, but for now, he had the shelf that particular issue and focus on more immediately pressing concerns.
“I appreciate you taking the time to help me out with this, champ.”
“May be calling you that at the end of the night, too,” she said with that sustained grin, “and no problem. You’ve helped me so much.”
“Aw, t’weren’t nothin’, Miss Levi,” he said, tipping an imaginary hat to her. “I’m just glad you’re going to show me how this is done. I also...wouldn’t mind picking your brain a little on how you feel about this match. You’ve got a perspective no one else I know does. I’d love to hear it.”
Adrienne nodded, pulling up a nearby steel chair. She planted it backwards and sat down, leaning into the back of the chair.
“So, when I faced Ken, he was a few weeks removed from that match with Jack. He was very protective of his hands. He could be a little better by now.” She said before clarifying, “But those sorts of injuries don’t go away. He was more aggressive. He didn’t want a prolonged affair and so well, I took advantage of that. Judging from his last match, he’s still hurt.”
Silvio nodded.
“I kinda figured he’d want to put me down early before I could really get my flow going. He doesn’t know me as well as people like JC or Jack, so the longer I’m up, the more likely I am to carry out a strategy or surprise him with something.”
“Every action has a counter. For example, he likes to set up a lot of stuff with that atomic drop. If he has you in the air, grab a headlock. Anything to reduce the momentum. Or that Twisted Faith maneuver? Most times he telegraphs it with the front facelock for just a little too long. Like he’s savoring it. So … drop down and wrap an arm around his knee. From there you could pick a leg.”
Silvio listened, absorbed in Adrienne’s words. He figured if anyone would be able to advise him on how to deal with Ken, it would be her. Not only was she good in the ring, but she’d been a ringside observer and student of the game for years; and not from a point of view many got to have.
“This is all gold. Thank you so much for sharing it with me. I’m...kinda nervous about this one.”
“I can’t tell you not to be.”
Ade stood up.
“But you’re a natural. Ken will test you. It’s very possible he didn’t take me seriously and that’s his fault. But you have his attention. The one thing that makes him in this business is on the line and he’s threatened by your confidence. That means he’d do anything.” Adrienne said with a nervous laugh. “I’m sorry if that doesn’t help. But it kind of goes back to what you told me before. How you sized people up. Well, he’s doing that to you. Maybe he doesn’t really know what you’re capable of?”
Silvio watched Adrienne get to her feet and felt his spine straighten a little as he listened to her.
“No, it...kinda confirms some stuff I already thought about him, actually.” He hesitated. “...Ade, Ken and me? We have a lot of parallels and I don’t know how comfortable I am with them. It feels weird; almost like kismet.” Shaking his head, he rolled his eyes. “Not to get corny on you or anything.”
Adrienne shook her head in response.
“Feels like a lot of strange stuff happens nowadays so I wouldn’t doubt those feelings. This probably makes me pretty weird but I’ve seen a few things I just can’t seem to explain…”
She trailed off. Her hands went into her hoodie pocket, pulling out a huge oversized pair of lab goggles.
“For the match later,” she said with a laugh.
He nodded, laughing with her. “Got get ‘im, monster hunter.”
“I bet you're pumped for this match,” Silvio said with a grin. Perched atop one of the turnbuckles, he watched Jon enter the ring. “You guys are going to be great.”
Jon grabs the top rope and hops into the ring, liking the familiar sound it makes.
“Thanks, Silvio. And I’m glad you’re going to be able to teach Ken Davison a lesson in humility. It’s way past overdue. And I’m happy to help play a part in teaching him that lesson. So I think it’d be fitting that I teach you how to do the move I called ‘The Downfall’. To celebrate Ken’s.”
“Definitely gonna do my best not to disappoint,” Silvio replied with a lopsided smile as he hopped down onto the canvas. “Though to be fair, I think he’s still stinging from that loss he got from Ade.”
Rolling his neck, he raised a brow at his teacher.
“How are things going for you, by the way? I don’t know if you’re sick of hearing it, but you’re brave deciding to live your life as yourself. It’s not easy.” He grinned. “You make Ax really happy.”
“He makes me really happy too. But we can talk about this later. I promise. First, let me help you kick Ken’s ass.
“You see, The Downfall is all about timing and placement. A regular Electric Chair Drop, once you’ve got them up on your shoulders, you shove an opponent right on the lower back, and the momentum carries them forward. As you throw them forward their center of gravity naturally makes them faceplant. But with The Downfall, you push them off at the upper thigh. This changes where their center of gravity is, and instead of falling forward, they start falling backward.
“This is where the timing is crucial: you’ve only got a few seconds to pop your head out from under them and fall with them, grabbing them by the neck and executing a Double Knee Backbreaker. If pulled off correctly, it sends a shock to their entire system. But not like the Shock the System, which is another signature move of mine. Hm… I better teach you that one as well.”
Silvio’s grin widened.
“I got all night.”
“Have you ever done a ladder match before?”
Silvio stretched his arms as he questioned Seb.
“Things are going to be crazy in there with all the people and the ladder.”
Sebastian shook his head, “Honestly? Before 103 I only ever dreamed of being up in the air during a match. Now?” Sebastian smiled, imagining the ladder in the center of the ring; a crowd cheering for his team as he leapt off of it, soaring through the air like his namesake. “I can’t get the vision of jumping off the ladder out of my head. To do it on a big stage like this?” Sebastian brought his gaze back to Silvio, “I’m super stoked!” Sebastian almost vibrated with excitement, almost generating enough force to punch a hole through the floor while standing still.
“I don’t blame you!” Silvio laughed. “I’m looking forward to that match. If I win against Ken, it’s got some folks I’d love to have as challengers for the title.” Rubbing his hands together, he beamed at his tutor. “So! What am I taking into that fight with me from your repertoire?”
Sebastian’s eyes grew wide, “I still take this as an honor and in the spirit of what you’re doing, I figured that I’d help you out with a superkick to call your own. I started using mine because believe it or not, I used to get tossed around a lot.” Sebastian paused and winced as if remembering a particularly painful bump. “I needed something in order to create some space, stun a dude enough for me to come up with a game plan…” Sebastian hopped into the ring and fired off a high kick, holding it in place for a moment before bringing his foot down and smirking at Silvio, “A superkick under the chin always did the trick,” he shrugged, “I figure that since Cat named mine, I could help you with yours, and that’s like…” He paused to count on his fingers, “A future champion being helped by a fellow future champion, who was helped by a soon to be former champion. By our powers combined…”
“...We are Captain Kick Ken Davison’s Ass. Y’know, Ax really likes you. Whenever he talks about you, he’s always got this, ‘proud big brother,’ vibe going. I think it’s good for him.”
He shook his head with a little smile.
“The stuff that’s going on in the Entourage...I’m sure you guys will work through it. I’m sorry for whatever hand I might have had there. Anything you think I could do to help?”
Sebastian sighed and his shoulders slumped slightly before he pulled himself together, “I honestly don’t know. I go to sleep one day and everything is ok, I wake up the next and the world has gone crazy.” Heading to a nearby corner, he lightly hopped up and took a seat on the top rope before continuing, “I really like Ax too. Dom as well and The Entourage was the family I was really hoping to find when I abandoned Vegas and came to Baltimore. I just feel like a little kid who wakes up one morning to overhear his parents arguing, and he’s just unsure as to what happened.” Shrugging helplessly, Sebastian sighed. “How could I blame you for anything Sil? Like… It’d be easy, sure, but what good would it do in the long run? The way you and Ax light up when you see each other is something rare and despite whatever rocky starts any of us have had… We’re here now and I have no reason to be bitter. I just wish all my friends could get along, ya know?”
“I know. And, hey, it’s the holidays. Maybe that’ll help bring you guys back to a level playing field with each other. And, y’know, if you need a family to stay with or something for the holidays, my door’s always open.”
Sebastian smiled, “I appreciate that. Beats whatever it was that I had planned, which was cereal and whatever happens to be on tv…”
“Just let me know. I have a lot of baking stuff, so I might need some extra hands. Alright…” Silvio took a ready position. “Show me how to do this and then we’ll get our gingerbread on.”
“You’re sure you’re cool to do this?”
Silvio regretted the words as soon as they’d left his lips. If ever there was a phrase that would make Amber Ryan double down on the, ‘Yes, I’m fine,’ line, it was the one he’d just uttered. He knelt, pushing the ropes apart to help her enter the ring.
Fluidly, or as fluidly as someone with a large boot might manage, Amber slipped between the ropes half-shrugging off the gesture.
"Wouldn't have agreed to it otherwise- just don't tell Mac. He gives me a hard enough time as it is when I'm not using crutches to hobble around."
Perhaps the sight alone was disconcerting- the normally fiery redhead, spring loaded and hair trigger pacing slowly trying to gauge her balance while heavily favouring one side.
Perhaps the term 'oh how the mighty had fallen' might have been appropriate, if only in the Distorted Angel's own mind.
He nodded. “Thanks for agreeing to give me some pointers. I figure you could also tell me a little about how I might handle the fight overall. I’ve never fought him before, but I think I have all his recent matches burned into my retinas, I’ve watched them so many times.”
Amber chuckled lightly, testing her own gait slightly with a pronounced hobble. "Yeah, good luck with that. Problem with a guy like that is that as well as he plans- he can change those plans on a dime. Reactive yet meticulous, a real oxymoron in the ring… Of course, you could easily remove the 'oxy' for sake of argument…"
Balancing on her good side, perhaps gauging the amount of spring left in her step, Amber turned to Silvio with a sly grin.
"My question to you, Deadboi, is what is it you want to know… See, I can talk all day about everything I think you could stand to know, but none of that matters if it's already common knowledge." Amber trailed off momentarily, a little wary in her own movements. "What is it Silvio, you're looking for… that you can't get from someone else?"
“Deadboi...I like that!” Silvio said, stroking his chin. “Well...your perspective. How it was when you’ve fought him. I can’t get Amber Ryan’s perspective from anybody else. And I feel like...well…” He glanced at the bracelet around his wrist. “...You get me in a way not many people on the roster can. They haven’t...well, they don’t know, y’know? You’ve also got experience on your side that I don’t. You work in an industry dominated by men that has a history of treating women badly. You’ve probably had to work twice as hard to get half as far as your male counterparts. You are going to be more resourceful, quicker to react, and more observant. You’ve been World Champ before. Why wouldn’t I want to hear anything and everything you had to say about this fight?”
Allowing a moment to pass between them unspoken, Amber pensively watched Silvio as though measuring her words.
"All very complimentary and all greatly appreciated- I guess the thing is that I wasn't in a good headspace when I fought him. All I wanted to do was put him in the ground, hurt him in the same way he had tried to hurt me and those around me…"
Another pause as Amber's expression softened, a little sadness creeping between the layers of her reassured facade.
"That's not the GKD you're facing though, you're facing someone that alot of people have yet to encounter. People change, maybe this time for the better- but you can't approach the match in the same way those before you have. It's a different opponent and you'd do well to keep that in mind with all your 'research'." Amber's tone warned of something deeper, although it was difficult to pinpoint what that was. "I've replayed my match with him so many times now I can remember everything verbatim, and I've picked it apart so heavily it's a wonder there's anything left to analyse…"
Amber paced slowly, unevenly, the boot thudding hard against the canvas.
"I keep looking for something in there I can pinpoint as to the moment where I could have changed things- where if I'd done something different that I might have won. I've yet to find it though- all the scenarios, the simulations and all the 'what ifs' in the world won't change a thing if your approach isn't right."
He nodded slowly. “That’s the common refrain I keep hearing,” he said, raising a brow. “Well, if I gotta expect the unexpected, then I need to prepare for anything.” He met her eyes again with a little half smirk. “‘Always be prepared.’ Think I can get a Deadboiscout merit badge?”
Amber returned the half smirk with one of her own.
"You mean to tell me you don't already have one?" Amber followed up with a chuckle. "To be prepared for anything… you gotta prepare for nothing at all. Let reaction and instinct take over… It's shitty advice, but it's the best I've got."
“Never bad advice to trust your instincts. Okay, Ms. Ryan. School’s in session. Show me how it’s done.”
“Thanks for lending a hand. I know we’re kind of on opposite ends of the spectrum when it comes to fighting styles, but I think we can figure something out. I’ve actually got a height advantage in this fight, and that’s rare for me.”
Silvio tapped his chin as he thought aloud, pacing a slow circle around the ring whose other occupant was a basically the Alpha Cowboy; the template from which all other cowboys were wrought.
"Maybe not," Bane says with a smile. “The shotgun lariat that I use might be a game changer for you. Especially with that height advantage you were talking about."
Eyes lighting up, the high-flier nodded. “That sounds about right. I need as many tools at my disposal as possible for this fight. And...everything you’ve all done since I came here to Carnage? The examples you’ve set, our match, the way you relate to other folks on the roster, watching you do your thing out there…” He shakes his head with a little grin. “You’re an aspirational guy, Mac.”
Bane smiles at the compliment. "Thanks Sil, I hope every time out that someone takes something positive from the things I do."
“I’d say so.” Silvio stretched out his legs a bit. “While we’re doing this, do you have any advice for dealing with Ken? I know you guys have been close, and you got experience in the ring with him I don’t have yet.”
Mac grins at the young man, “I’m glad you asked actually, I was going to give you some unsolicited advice but since you asked.”
He chuckles a little as he thinks about his old friend.
“You know, Ken and I have been friends for nearly two decades. You will never encounter a more prepared ring general in your career. He always knows where he is in the ring and like you, and me, he’s a student of the game. More importantly, he’s a master psychologist. He likes to talk smack during his matches to try and unhinge you.”
Silvio nodded, thoughtful. “I’ve seen him get into peoples’ heads before. For once, I think I’m in his. Actually shut him up during that interview, which I wasn’t expecting.”
Mac pauses there for a moment to allow what he’s said to Silvio to sink in. “He’s never encountered this move in matches with me. You’re more agile than I am, so I think you’ll be able to build more torque and really deliver a knockout with it.”
Mac motions for Silvio to go ahead and take his shot. “Ready when you are.”
Turning, he climbed onto the apron ring, crouched, and flipped over the top rope before coming at Mac with a hard lariat, relying on the momentum to help propel him.
As he hurtled toward the cowboy, he couldn’t help but think of the last time he’d been in the ring with him; with Ko.
Bruised and aching, but already feeling himself being put back together by his eldritch benefactor, Silvio climbed the stairs to his apartment.
Pushing open the door, he stepped beyond and was brought up short, staring at his kitchen table. Atop it was a white cake box tied up in ribbon with a card attached. Brow furrowed, he picked up the card and felt his heart give a little skip.
Turning it over, it read only: =^.^=
Silvio smiled fondly to himself, opened the box, and immediately burst out laughing.
The Japanese style Christmas cake was exquisite; a mouth-watering masterpiece of whipped cream, airy sponge and jewel-like strawberries. On a little chocolate plaque situated in the center, held up by a cheerfully smiling whipped cream snowman, lovingly rendered in white icing were the words: Kick His Ass xoxo