They were relentless. She was the leader and her head was the prize they were all playing for in this deadly game. She rather liked it in its spot, and planned to keep it on her shoulders.

It was hard to keep balanced, who was friend and who was foe. Those she thought loyal, aiming for her jugular with unsettling determination. She dispatched the swarthy brute who thought his sheer size would be all he needed, her reflexes keeping her one step ahead until a misstep on his end proved his undoing as a swift uppercut to the jaw sent him reeling.

She should kill him, but loyalty stays her hand. Maybe there was a better way. Even as they all bayed to spill her blood, she was loathe to do the same.

‘Fool’ her mind whispers.

She takes half a moment to look around, hovering over her victim.

Lycans in both forms, locked in combat. Blood spatter. Carnage. Damien with his obsidian daggers, keeping a group at bay with ease. Marf, engaged with the djinn, the wild blue glow going haywire around them as...

A foot slams into her gut and she is taken up and over. With a snarl he is on her, and she is battling for her life, her veins popping out as she struggles to get out from under him, her arms wavering as they try to keep his hands from her throat.

And then he is gone, and Rolfe is in her line of vision, helping her to her feet. As she stands, her eyes lock on Marf, throttling the djinn, focused, unaware of the danger raging around him. “I’ll watch his back.” Rolfe’s voice breaks through, following her line of vision. She nods, already turning away to see if she could find Damien. She glances back, and something gives her pause. What was it? She stops, one foot in the air. The enemy shifters, they were... parting for Rolfe. Moving out of his way. “No...” she whispers her denial at the same moment he looks back and their eyes meet. He smiles.

Snake.

He was the traitor.

He shifts, red fur gleaming as his muscles ripple. She knew instinctively what he intended, and she began to run, heart galloping, the fear that she wouldn’t make it in time sending bolts of terror through her bloodstream lending her feet wings. It wasn’t enough though. She transforms, paws thudding into the earth and eating up the ground.

Her eyes were fixed on him, closing the gap with a single-minded determination. There was no time, she had no choice. She leapt, slamming into him just before he gets to Marf. They tumble together in a flurry of snapping jaws and flying tufts of fur.

They skid back to their feet, Lycana snarls. Rolfe lowers his head, his own lips curving back from sharp fangs.

They leap at one another, Rolfe using his strength advantage to push her backwards. She responds with a flurry of quick attacks, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth. He lunges, and she is just a hair too slow, his teeth crunching loudly on her rear leg. She yelps, pain radiating up her limb as she drops back. In a flash he is back to human, dagger in hand. Belatedly she realizes she had been herded into a trap, unable to spring aside as he lands a glancing blow, slicing a thin cut down her shoulder.

He stands, looking smug as she whirls, ready for more, confused as to why he had stopped. She takes a step forward, as her paw begins to tremble. Confusion begins to cloud her mind as her muscles suddenly refuse to work, her body sinking to the ground as she morphs back into her human form. Her eyes wild, she fights within herself, trying to get something, anything to obey. Rolfes chuckle brings her eyes to him.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it, Lycana?” Rolfe rhetorically asked, daring a glance around the battlefield. “How… primal it all is? Feels… natural, wouldn’t you say?” Lycana is helpless on the ground, feeling a tingle begin along her nerve endings, slowly fading away, replaced by... nothing. She could feel nothing in her toes. “Traitor.” she hisses the word out, her tongue feeling swollen and foreign in her mouth, the word slightly slurred.

“I know how this looks” Rolfe immediately dismissed her harsh tone. “But it isn’t what you think it is, Lycana. This was the only way; the only way we’d truly be free. I needed the wolves; I needed YOU... to see just what the Gods were truly capable of. They don’t care about us, they never did! I mean, how long were you a loyal and faithful servant to Cate!? And the one thing that you desired, above all us, she denied you. You did what any one of us always dreamed we could do, Lycana; you defied the Gods, you became one with the wolf within… WITHOUT their help. Don’t you see what this was all for? You’ve proven that it’s possible for us to survive, to thrive even, without the blessing of the Gods. We don’t need them, not like they need us.”

“Wrong....” Lycana fights to even get that simple word out. She wanted to tell him he had no idea what he was talking about, except her vocal cords appeared to be frozen. “Whaz...” she inquires, her eyes wildly flickering around in her face, the rest of her defiant to her every request.

“Oh, right…” Rolfe ‘s face twisted into one of remorse as he got down to a knee, his breath hot on Lycana’s face. He studied every inch of her delicate frame, wanted nothing more than to reach out and drag his finger across her smooth skin. To take her in his arms the way he always dreamt of, to have her taste on his lips. He wanted nothing more… “What you’re experiencing right now, that paralyzing feeling…” Rolfe looked down at the dagger in his hand. “It’s a very specific kind of poison, taken from the fangs of a Gorgon, if you can believe that. Fast acting; fatal even… in most cases.”

Rolfe allowed himself an opportunity to drag his thumb across her bottom lip, seeing her so helpless before him, it was killing him that in this moment, he couldn’t just take what he wanted. “But don’t worry Lycana,” Rolfe smiled, trying to reassure her. “I don’t want you dead; I never did. I just needed you to see what this world had come to; to understand our place in all of this. I just want to talk and I just needed you to listen.” Rolfe brushed himself off as he stood up, towering over her, his shadow blocking out the sky above.

“You don’t make it easy,” Rolfe practically laughed. “Then again, that’s what I… love about you.”

A loud gurgle of denial rises from Lycana’s throat, her stomach rolling in revulsion at his declaration as she lay naked, helpless and exposed before him. His voice was cutting in and out on her as a fog creeps over her awareness thanks to the poison.

The words rolled freely off his tongue as he tried explaining to her his 'side of the story', but how much of it actually sunk in was another story, her body battling to stay conscious as he monologued above her. “Marf… in the way…” Rolfe’s words skipped from one rant to the next, Lycana barely processing any of it. “You… been mine… Tius… the plight… wolves… Djinn were… to an end… bloodshed… necessary… our survival… finally be free… can lead us… I’ve always loved… don’t worry… you die… antidote...”

His voice trails off as it seems his attention was captured by something in the woods beyond them, his eyes taking on an almost haunted look.

She follows Rolfe’s gaze to see Reika standing there, in the shadows. Her mind screamed in denial, the overwhelming urge to protect filling her, unable to be fulfilled. Finneas was supposed to keep her home! Reika looks impassively from her former boyfriend, to Lycana on the ground. “I know what you did to me.”

Her voice was monotone.

The lump constricting Lycana’s airways from the poison let nothing more than a tiny squeak to emerge. The fog was creeping in more now.

Relief on his face that her coldness was directed to Lycana and not him, Rolfe rises. His lips curve up in a smile. “Reika! You’re alive!? I can only imagine what hell you have been through, but you're safe now. You’re home.” his tone warms, soothing, sliding back to his charming self, fitting in a world of concern into them.

Reika steps closer, her face devoid of expression as she lifts her gray eyes to Rolfe. Her head tilts and she remains quiet.

“My love?”

Her mouth opens, but no words come out.

Instead, a scream blasts through the air, a virtual vortex that slams into the redheaded lycan, sending him back a step as it whirls around him. A shriek rises from his throat, merging with the scream to fill the air with a horrible cacophony. Pieces of skin start to peel from Rolfe in bloody shards, his eyes popping and melting down his face in a disgusting ooze as he claws at his emptied sockets. Bone starts to shine through flesh as the blood pours and he writhes, still on his feet. His bones crack. His vital organs rise to the surface, seeking escape from their prison with a disgusting suctioning sound. His lips give up their battle, leaving a leering smile on his face as they fly to join the other pieces of his body whirling about. Scarlet liquid begins to seep from his ears. With a sharp pop he implodes, tiny particles floating through the air in a fine mist of crimson gore and entrails.

Lycana watches this through a thickening haze, stunned.

Reika was a banshee.

It was her last thought before it all went black.

____________________________________________________________________________________

“You know, I knew both of you would give me a bunch of asinine things to ruminate on, but I'll be damned if I realized just how much of a bounty you’d be providing for me. A veritable mile long stretch of steaming shit, to pick my way through. I hardly know where to start with it all... the options are endless.

But how could I not start with my darling TK?

Oh TK, I knew you were dumb as a brick, but each time you go and open your mouth you prove the bar can get even lower.

Where did I use you as a weapon against Main? Do you really count me saying that you couldn’t come up with a plan as intricate a plan as Page- about the only time you’re mentioned- as USING YOU AS A WEAPON? Good lord TK, I legitimately was calling you a moron, and you just proved it beyond any shadow of a doubt.

First off, I was saying what I would do in Main's position. I suppose someone who think’s their lack of mental capacity is weaponizing him would not understand the concept of hypothetical. But damn right I would chew you up and spit you out, then go on to face every damn member of BoB without blinking a damned eyelash. I have Page on deck, you think you faze me if he doesn’t?

And I DO want to play with you more than anyone, other than Fury. Care to take me on for size by yourself TK, or are you going to pull some lame excuse out of your ass why you can't?

‘Oh... boohoo, I'm only doing tag matches.’ Wasn’t that an excuse last time someone came looking for one of you?

Your partner is in a singles with Granger on Anarchy. Try again. Bring it. Unless you want to admit to being a BITCH instead of a Bastard because you don’t have Bourbs to hide behind.

Or will your head honcho frown upon such a thing?

Oh wait... Y’all don’t have a boss right?

“You mad because Page and Fury are way better leaders than that loser Baph could ever be.”

Well damn, look at that. Right out of Dixon’s mouth. I guess you were kind of right. You don’t have A leader. You have TWO!

Oh, word of advice... you should probably just fire Jimmy now if he’s over there telling you I was a shy and timid little girl before I met up with you idiots at Snow Job.

Hmm let's see here... very much into drawing blood, branded Alias, cracked Atara’s neck and put her out, willingly walked into the ring against anyone thrown at me...

Yep. I was a real shrinking violet before you two crossed my radar.

As for helping me slip into something a little more comfortable, it's really sweet of you to think of me that way. Perhaps I'll return the favor and slip you into something a little more permanent.... like a body bag.

TK, do you honestly think I care about what number you are? It means shit to me, to me... you will always be a giant ZERO. Hell, I’ve been in the ring with higher than you and it never meant a damn thing...

Including you Mr. Bourbon. At least you didn’t trot around trying to trumpet numbers. Well, except for your sad little ratings system. You said we didn’t take into account that you wouldn’t be alone. But from where I'm standing? You might as well be.

Do you remember what happened at Snow Job? Well, my partner was in the thick of it, and it took BOTH Doc and Corey to keep him down. You were crawling along right with me, But your partner? Where the hell was he?

TK was so far out of the match he couldn’t even be found!

For calling yourself the sultan of smacktalk, I can't say I’m that impressed. A Roomba? Watching paint dry? Is that really something you looked at among the rest of your unremarkable jabs and said that’s it! That’s the one!

Really?

That doesn’t sound like you pulled it straight out of a generic bargain basement book at all.

Try watching blood dry, far more satisfying. In fact, maybe I'll use this opportunity - our match - to do a little bit of that; stick you like a pig, watch the crimson flow out of you, use your blood to paint my masterpiece on that canvas. Wouldn't that be fun?

For me?

Remind me again, how many teams did Marf and I have to beat to get this opportunity to face the 'best' team in the XWF?

Which, by the way, I take offense to... the only reason you think that you're the best is because you have those precious titles around your waist. But when Marf and I do to you what we did to every one of those other teams, then we will be the best, because we will be the NEW tag team champions. Luck ain't got a damn thing to do with it, sweetie, but by all means... continue to believe that, continue to underestimate us, you only play further into our hands.

In the end, when the carnage is over, the dust has settled, and you two are laying broken amidst the shattered glass, you'll come to realize what everyone else already knows... Them No Good Bastards are, quite simply, no good.

Have the two of you heard yourselves talk lately?

You like to bring up all your past accomplishments against randoms as if that should mean something to me. Am I supposed to be impressed that you retired MorbidMind? All that tells me is that they weren’t able to beat you when it mattered the most; when everything was on the line, they crumbled under the pressure. But if you think The Dissentients are just like them, then you're sorely mistaken; we're survivors, always have been, always will be.

And because we don't follow the typical path to the tag team titles, you believe us to be unfocused... undisciplined... yet, two 'singles' competitors won the Tag Team Turmoil.

What that should tell you is that despite all of our sole accomplishments, we are that much more dangerous together.

It's fitting that this match should take place on the Moon because the sky is, literally, the limits for the Dissentients. Though I do appreciate the history lesson Bourbon; it's almost poetic that the individual that came up with the glass tables match in XWF should, also, suffer such a devastating defeat in one.

The Tag Titles are ours and there's not a damn thing either of you can do about it, but don't you worry... as soon as we're done embarrassing you, we'll be sure to have an airlock with your name on it. Nothing personal, of course, we just know that oxygen is a premium in space and you two mouth-breathers will have surely taken up your allotted share simply from the moment you stepped off the shuttle.

Hmm, I just realized something, perhaps one day Marf and I will be mentioning this moment to our future competitors as the day that we 'retired' Them No Good Bastards. The funny thing is, just like MorbidMind, no one will care... who you are.

Because you two are just a waste of space. "