I'LL TAKE THIS MOMENT LIKE I OWN IT
We open in a clearing eerily similar to Lycana’s own back in her home of North Carolina, it could nearly be a clone. Moonlight bathes the familiar scene, from the slightly different stump with a deep wooden bowl atop it, to the glittering dagger set beside that, to the large sheep that nibbles its own bowl of mixed foliage without a care in the world. Bouquets of herbs are set in evenly spaced intervals, circling the clearing, ready to be lit by one of the candles scattered about. A small fire crackles merrily, an iron pot set up to hang above it, its contents simmering, a gentle steam rising in the cool night. Footsteps approach, and as they get closer a soft tune being hummed.
Lycana steps from the darkness, her arms laden with wildflowers, two mugs dangling from her fingers. She sets the flowers down off to the side, out of the reach of the staked up sheep. Her luck he would go off and eat them instead of being dressed in them for his sacrifice, and then Cate might get annoyed. With all the tension in the air in that department, it was best if Lycana toed the line as much as she could, especially with how much energy and attention she was expending with The Left Hand and the XWF compared to her ‘studies’. While Lycana still wanted her powers, her head had more than been turned away lately by her new career.
One of her saving graces, had been the willingness, and eagerness of... More footsteps sound as Lycana turns, watching the large hooded figure come from the shadows towards her. Him. He had shown he was both smart and able, and tonight was the night they would take one step closer to allowing Lycana access to his mind. There were a few more steps to go before it was complete, but the brain was not something to play around with, and Lycana was not about to turn Cate anymore sour than she already was with her. She had promised her goddess there would be more to give her power, those who were willing and able to learn... and that benefited them all.
The hooded man steps up to her as she inclines her head in greeting. He knew what tonight was, and if she had to guess, he was probably looking forward to it, taking that other pace forward. Step one was simple, they had already done it before. They move over to the stump, and work together in silence using a mortar and pestle to mash all the ingredients to make Lycana’s elixir once more. She takes it, and dumps it into the gently simmering pot, using a large wooden spoon to stir it through. She grabs up the mugs, dipping them one at a time in, eyeing the amounts that were in each before heading back over to hand one to the hooded man. Last time they had shared, this time they would each imbibe a larger amount.
Staring at each other over the rims of their mugs, they drink it all down. He holds the mug out to her and she takes it, placing them off to the side. She explains what needed to be done next. The sheep was there for an obvious reason, but it had been fed the same items they had just both just taken in. This, along with her call out, would help infuse the sheep's blood with power, and he would get a chance to feel what that felt like, so that it wouldn’t come as too much of a shock when the time came for him to understand it for real. Lycana had been due to perform a sacrifice, why not use it as a lesson as well?
This would be his first time handling something like this, though he had had no hesitations with the chicken. As she prepares, she explains what needs to be done in detail, as well as what he should expect to feel. She first blesses the jewel encrusted dagger, carrying it carefully on open palms to present it to the hooded man who takes it reverently. She moves over to the placid sheep who is a little woozy now after its snack, she unties the rope and leads it over to the elevated piece of wood that would serve as a stage, grabbing the deep bowl along the way. It steps sleepily up and stands there as Lycana and the hooded man move into their respective spots, at the ready.
Lycana starts her quiet chant, and at her nod he strikes. One swift motion with the dagger and with nary a bleat, the animals life blood spurts into the deep receptacle held before its throat. He holds the sheep steady as Lycana continues her chore, thanking the beast for what it had have given that night. Once the vessel was full nearly to the brim, she rises and carries it over to the stump. She nods to the hooded man and he lowers the sheep to the ground, as she covers it with the wildflowers she had gathered beforehand. Someone would come along and handle it after they were gone... its sacrifice not in vain, as it would probably go to feed a family of those loyal.
The hooded man steps over to Lycana at her gesture. She explains that after two doses of the elixir, he should feel a strong zap, like he touched an electric fence when he touched his finger to the blood. As they built the bridge more, he would build tolerance as well, and the power would subside to a mild buzz. He touches a finger to the thick liquid in the bowl, and then the hood turns her way and shakes to the negative. She frowns. Strange... She tells him to dip in more, so he does, submerging his fingers up to the knuckles. Still, he shakes his head. At her behest, he places his hand flat on the bottom, then just gives her a shrug, pulling it back out. She peers into the bowl confused, as if the viscous liquid could answer her. Baffled, she entwines her fingers with his, and drops both hands into the bowl of blood.
Her cry rises up but dies in her throat as power slams up her arm, and she hurtles through a black void. She feels herself falling, the world spinning around her in an abyss of nothing, but not for long. Visions flash before her, each worse than the last. Atrocities one would not wish to speak of, lest they be put out into the universe to become real. The feelings wash over her, all mixing together. They are memories, hopes, desires. Anger, despair, loathing. As the pictures fly by, they all meld together in an overwhelming display of depravity. They press in on her, until it feels as though she is paddling about in a pit of tar, sucking on each limb. She is pulled under, tumbling about another memory. One of blood. Of death. Of murder.
She fights out with a gasp, flailing about as she struggles to regain some sort of control before another wave of dark emotions smacks into her, taking her down into its depths. She can see and understand them all. The bloodlust. The urge to harm most who cross by. Another memory yanks her close, coiling her within its tangled tendrils. As she navigates through this violent vision of a strangling, feeling the hands as if her own around the victim's throat, she can see it as if looking through their eyes. HIS eyes. Realization dawns on her. She was deep within the hooded man's mind and as that cognizance hits, so does another. She feels it then, the slight probing feeling inside her head. He... he was also within hers.
Shock rocks Lycana to the core. How could this be? It SHOULDN’T be. They had not done all the steps, she should not be bridged to his mind, nor should he have any access to hers at all. He could see the deepest darkest parts of her, as she did his and right now, she was powerless to push him out. She battles her way forward, trying to take control of the situation, her muscles practically screaming with exhaustion from fighting being tossed around in his mind like a ragdoll. She moves as if within a thick sludge, full out combat just to gain another inch towards the surface despite her new curiosity to remain and see more. She twists and turns, pushing by all the beckoning desires to create havoc. Just a little more...
She returns on shaken legs as she stumbles backwards slightly, ripping their hands from the bowl, releasing her grasp on his to grab at the stump for balance. She sucks in deep lungfuls of air, staring at her blood coated hand slowly dripping onto the wood, questioning everything that happened. It was impossible, yet it had happened. As she stands there panting, she feels him leave her mind at the same time his own body jolts as if awoken from a slumber. She had seen things she never expected, felt his power as if it were her own, tasted his very desires. And he had drank deeply of hers, she could feel it. Her confused eyes lift to meet his under the hood, and they stare one another. Comprehension hits as she gazes into their depths, her hands coming up to push the hood back to reveal his face.
They were the same.
Marf reaches out and cups her cheek with his hand, his thumb stroking her chin as he smears blood all over her face, forcing their eyes to remain locked. He had told her, and now she had seen it all for herself. As he had as well. They knew each other's most intimate secrets, seen each other’s heinous actions. Their connection was secured, bound in steel. Under the guise of the hood, he had been with her from the start, from the moment they had crossed paths thanks to Corey Smith. They had tested each other, pushed each other, probing to find any weaknesses, to see if they were each what they proclaimed to be. The answer had been there all along. They were. They were predators, the type that thrilled in both the hunt and kill. Their bond transcending anything Lycana had ever known.
It went above and beyond her magic, defying both the logical and supernatural. Their minds were firmly linked now, able to read each other at will as long as the shields were dropped. Lycana’s lips tremble slightly and Marf’s gaze drops to them before lifting back up, his head slowly going to the side. A small sound escapes Lycana as she tries to choke it back. Marf’s eyebrow raises as he watches her quizzically, a smile playing about his mouth. Submitting, Lycana allows a chortle to emerge, rising musically into the air, as her eyes start to twinkle with delight. Marf’s answering grin soon turns into a rumbling chuckle as he pulls her forward into him, and the duo’s laughter merges together in the night.
TIME: PRESENT
Lycana’s eyes fly open and she has just enough time for a scream to start leaving her throat before he is leaping upon her. Her quick reflexes have her diving over the edge of the bed to the floor, just managing to slip through his grasp. He clutches at her legs as she alligator rolls, half on the ground, half in the air, the battle for her life pulsing through her veins. She breaks his hold, and scrambles to get to her feet as he comes for her once more, his hand snagging a clump of her blue hair. She whirls with a snarl, lashing out, aiming her nails like claws at his face. She catches him and he releases her long enough for her to sprint towards the door of the room.
With seeming nonhumanoid speed, he is on her again, grabbing at her night clothes to pull her away from freedom, and life. She spins around once more, lashing out, but he maintains his hold, pulling her towards him hard, sending her flying by to hit the bed. Her hands outstretch to break her fall, but he is on her, his hands pressing to the sides of her head. She feels it, the same confused feeling as the vision within the old woman’s memory. She fights wildly, her cries muffled into the mattress as he tries to pull her soul from her body, his runes glowing. Facedown, she is effectively helpless as he presses harder, determined to end her, she claws at his arms. Her turns her head, struggling to force her lungs to work, to stare into the dark cloak... those glowing blue eyes all that are revealed. The vision burning into her retinas.
She didn’t have anything to prove it was this Harbinger who had something to do with it, but the irony was just too great to ignore. There was some...thing running around out there, that was strong enough to take out people with supernatural powers, using whatever force he held in his hands. To steal their soul the old woman had said. She lifts her fingers to rub at her temples. This was not the sort of thing she needed with less than two weeks before the next event. Snow Job and the shot at the tag title gold was on the horizon, and she had to get her focus on that. Granted, knowing the fact that your life might be snuffed out was also pretty damn important...
If the whole situation wasn’t so serious, she would laugh at the absurdity of it all. She squints at the faintly glowing numbers on the clock on the nightstand. Dawn would be breaking soon. She looks once more at the man slumbering next to her. The urge to sink down under the comforter and let herself slide back into the arms of sleep washes over her, but then she sighs and slips carefully from the bed. Who was she kidding? With her mind awhirl with all these damn thoughts, sleep would elude her grasp and she knew it. She pads lightly over to the bedroom door and quietly opens it, sliding out into the hallway to prepare for the day.
A short time later she steps lightly down the stairs, dressed and as ready for whatever kind of fuckery might come her way as she ever would. Taking a step into her kitchen she found she was not as prepared as she thought, for what greeted her as she flicked on the light. “Thought I’d have to wait longer so I made myself a snack.” Rolfe greets her from his spot at her table, shoving a sandwich into his mouth and taking a massive bite. Lycana first stares at him, then turns an accusing glare onto Fenrir, sprawled by the door, who merely thumps his tail in a sort of apologetic manner. The downfalls of your familiar being in the same pack as someone you strongly dislike.
“How did you even get in here?” her voice is tinged with irritation. The morning was not turning out to be a pleasant one, she would almost rather go back to the nightmare. “You shouldn’t leave your spare key in so obvious a place.” He pops the last piece of sandwich into his mouth and sits back in his chair, chewing noisily. Lycana leans back against her refrigerator, crossing her arms over her chest. Before she can say a word Rolfe bursts out laughing and shakes his head, waving his hands at her as if to calm her gales of laughter that never came. She remains stone faced until he finally stops laughing. “Oh, come on Lycana, I’m a man of many talents.”
“So, you picked the lock. Charming. What do you want?” His face drops and he rests his elbows on the table as he looks at her. “Business it is then. Tius has been at it again, trying to get in the ears of some of the packs to turn them to his side.” Lycana is about to argue that they had literally just squashed a rumor like this when he hurries on. “Including ours.” Her words die a quick death in her throat. “You know we are loyal to Cate, but I wouldn’t put the same trust into all of them. You know with a war among the packs, Dion and Roland would be kept busy...” His voice trails off the let Lycana soak up the implications on the results for Cate’s loyal if Tius distracted her ally and had his way.
“You know Dion would put down any wolves that turned on Cate. She’s strong enough on her own without him anyway. How come nobody was caught and questioned?” Lycana flops into a chair across from Rolfe. “Yes, but with disciples going missing, there are whispers some are dropping out just to save themselves. Nobody can really say where they heard it, it's like a ghost came about. And instead of being here to try and sort things out, you’ve been overseas doing your own thing with the Baphomet and that group you adore. Which by the way, him being arrested by the CIA? Investigations going on? How is this thing even still going on?” his tone darkens. “I’m aware. I was there. This goes much deeper than anybody knows, beyond the Baphomet. The CIA agent is a fool, he won’t figure it out.” Lycana pinches the bridge of her nose, trying to fend off a headache before the sun even peeps over the horizon.
“And you aren't going to tell me anything?” Lycana shakes her head negative. “Dammit Lycana, I’m trying to help you!” “I don’t need help.” “Because you have him?” Rolfe points towards the ceiling, and the upper level of her house. She is about to question how he knew, but then... right... werewolf, special senses and all that. “He is one reason. You don’t have to concern yourself with anything I do that pertains to the XWF.” He cuts her off. “I do if it is putting what we are doing in the order at risk! Don’t you realize what would happen if it came out into the open?” “I’m telling you, Oliver Danielson is not worth worrying over. Besides, Cates been doing this for centuries. Shes not stupid.”
“No, but maybe she is for trusting you.” he rises, the barb hitting home as she does the same. He moves in close, glowering at her. “They start looking into you, and everything... You need to quit this company and lay low!” “No.” Rolfe runs a frustrated hand through his hair and looms over her his hands starting to clench at his sides. “He would kill you.” Lycana doesn’t need to specify who the ‘he’ is. “And that would put you in more of a tenuous position now wouldn’t it?” Never the less, he backs down slowly making his way to the door. “You handle the wolf situation, like I told you to before I left. I will take care of the missing disciples and lay those fears to rest. Leave what I do in the XWF out of it all.” With a quick glare, the redheaded man is gone, without bothering to answer.
Lycana drops back down into a chair, putting her face into her hands and massaging her temples. Just add a war of the werewolf packs onto her already overflowing plate. Not just a rumor this time sending Dion to her door. As if the Harbinger, figuring out where Romeo factored into everything and taking him down, AND the match at Snow Job weren't enough. She would just have to hope Rolfe would do his duties and figure out just who was trying to light the sparks of this friction, and they could nip it in the bud before it got too out of hand. Tius would use anything to his advantage when it came to Cate... he had been trying and failing so long, just becoming a thorn in her side, she would put nothing by him.
As for Tommy Romeo, there was more digging to be done to figure out if... No, how, he had a hand in what happened to Baphomet. At least he had finally stood up to her challenge, she more than looked forward to leaving him nothing but a mangled heap in the ring. Again. He would provide her much less of a challenge than others she had faced, who had earned their accolades within the XWF, but this had all started as a fun little pastime for her. Now tasked with his destruction by Her, and what she knew so far... it was a mission. Not just to beat him, not even just to take him out of the business entirely, it was to obliterate him. Make him regret ever getting involved in the affairs of The Left Hand.
But before she could turn her full attention to such matter, she had to focus on the bigger task at hand when it came to the federation. At Snow Job, she would be facing not just two other people, but four of them. Bobby Bourbon and Thunder Knuckles. The tag team champs themselves... well, half of the actual champs in Doc, with Corey standing in for Thad. At least she had a reliable partner by her side in Marf, unlike the last time she had stood before Corey Smith. She had tried, oh she had tried to ignite the flames... tried to draw out even the smallest spark but to no avail. This time, things were different. There would be no need for coaxing, it was already there just waiting to be released.
As the first faint rays of the sun break over the world and creep through her windows, Lycana makes her way back up the stairs, quietly stealing into her bedroom once more. She lifts the comforter and crawls back in to the bed, curling up into a ball next to Marf. He, in the grand scheme of things lately, was her rock. He kept her focused. She would wait until he awoke, to tell him of all these new developments and hear his thoughts. She knew he didn’t always understand her crazy world, but he was very thorough in thinking things through and forming a response. Far too many brushed him off as just another big, dumb piece of muscle. Underestimating him, as they did her. It would lead to all their downfalls sooner or later.
“After all that has gone on, most would assume we would be gone. That The Left Hand would just crumple and fade away, scattering like dust on the wind to land as we would, perhaps never to be seen again. Most of those would have rejoiced. Some might have felt a small twinge of disappointment in not getting their taste in of the ones who everybody scoffed at, yet were on everybody's lips. Because though they all denied our plausibility, we still captivated them, slid our way into their minds. They could jeer, they could threaten, they could laugh. They could pretend we all meant nothing to them. The fact of the matter is, we were still what they were thinking of.
I expect we will hear all about that in the days leading up to Snow Job. How Baphomet was arrested. How two members turned. How The Left Hand doesn’t mean anything to anybody. On and on. Yet, here we are, still filling your mouths and your promos. If we had been as meaningless and made as little impact as accused, I suspect you all would have been ignoring us, pretending like we did not exist. So many of you would not be picking up the staff and proclaiming to lead the charge to chase the Left Hand from the XWF if that were the case. Some have taken measures to try and ensure our failure with the Baphomet's arrest, but the failure was their own.
The Left Hand is here to stay, so rally all your forces back together, take what shots you will. Your words will merely roll of our backs, merely wasted breath, harmless insults that fall on deaf ears. Childish taunts that mean nothing once we all step inside that ring. In there, is where the real shots occur. And this one, is bound to be a hell of a time with tables, ladders, and chairs oh my. Not quite the caliber of an Xtreme match but quite titillating all the same. Six of us go in, and two of us emerge with the spoils that are the Tag Team championship belts. The Dissentients... BoB... and half of the champions in Doc, plus Corey Smith. Quite the little get together we will have!
The Brotherhood of Baddies, I had assumed that meant they were villains of some sort. I’ve been waiting for some sign of that, eager even to see what they had to offer up. It’s been a whole lot of absolutely nothing so far. Never the less, they have started emerging from their little hidey holes like cockroaches now that The Left Hand has stepped up obscuring their imagined thunder. Set one to declare their war! They are ready, eager and ab... well... they're yearning to get their hands on us in the ring, and now here is the chance for two of their finest to step right up and show us how it’s done, the Baddie way! Never ending talk and little action! No wonder you joined with Romeo.
Let's get started with Bobby Bourbon, contestant number one from BoB. The biggest and baddest or so I’m told. I haven't seen much from you lately but we will go with that. I’m going to go with the thought that you are thinking I’m going to be a breeze to get through. You’d be wrong. You see, for all your size and strength, it is not much of an advantage when speed comes into play, especially with the numbers game of this match. Add in a touch of never stay down, and keeps coming back for more and that’s what you'll get in that ring. Oh, I’m certain you will get your mits on me and show me a world of pain, but you may have heard I’m pretty into that sort of thing. If you haven't, I'm sure Corey will enlighten you in all his promos.
Being called the biggest and the baddest doesn’t mean a damn thing when you have four people who are looking to tear you up. Take one down, there will be another taking their place. Believe me when I say, Marf and I are both more than able to dish out the punishment as well as take it. We might not have been here that long, but that just adds to our drive. Our goal is to destroy anyone in our path, it was never about the wins. It was never about the gold. It was always just to lay a whole lot of hurt at everybody’s door. But our path has led us here, and right now Mr. Bourbon, you are settled right in the middle of our road. In our sights. The biggest men fall the hardest, and chopping you down will bring me the utmost pleasure.
Of course, you will have your partner there to watch your X-Bux... I mean back. Thunder Knuckles, the other half of team BoB. If Bourbon is the muscle, you must be the brai... no. No definitely not. What are you other than highly talented at making vulgarity make up ninety percent of your speech? I know you will take that as a compliment. I don’t mind. You see, for all the useless words you spew out, you are a variable in this match. Someone to keep an eye on, and watch out for... oh not me, Bourbon I’m talking to you again. Have you seen some of the things TK has done? I just got here and even I have heard a bunch of stories about how quickly he’d turn around when a wad of money was waved under his nose. That’s what's legendary about him. I admire a lot of things most would consider shady, but that’s not one of them.
TK, you are much like your stablemate Jenny Myst... you both are pretty damn predictable with your words. I think I can sum up The Dissentients part of your promo much like hers, except you don’t have a belt to whine about for a solid hour. Yours will go something along the lines of this... Fucking goths. Fucking not as good as BoB. Fucking beat Geri. Your fucking track record. Fucking BoB is the real deal. Fucking going to win. Fucking not worth my time. Insert various other obscenities here. #JoinBOB. Hell, what am I talking about... just change up a scant few words and you’ll likely be saying about the same thing to Doc and Corey. I’ve seen much greater than you in the ring, and not backed down. But far be it from me to underestimate my opponents... only a complete idiot would do such a thing (I'm looking at you TK).
Now we move on to someone I would never dare to assume anything of. The good doctor himself, Louis D’Ville. I like you Doc, I applaud much of what you have done here. Like Marf, our first meeting was thanks to Corey (he might get an even bigger head if I keep thanking him!) When you appeared shroud in the goat skin, it captured my interest, so I looked further. Another kindred spirit. A malevolent force in a world of blandness. Someone else who could relate to the gratifications in depravity. Ah Doc, if things were only just a little bit different. If only you would consider lifting that left hand, and think of all the hell we could raise together, running amuck on the XWF.
However, it seems like you are quite loyal to dear Thaddeus Duke. I can understand that. Appreciate it even, as I am the same way when it comes to my people. It is an admirable trait. As is your work with him, trying to coax forth the darkness. But how do you feel about the man you step into the ring with in his stead? Do the same feelings apply? Or does that only last until the last chimes of the bell have faded away? Perhaps you would secretly enjoy watching all the hurt that gets rained down on him? I know I will... from anyone who deals it. You like to play mind games, and I hear you are quite adept at it. You are the one that I await word from the most, with baited breath.
I won’t even hold it against you that I never found that full list of kinks under my Christmas tree, I know you are a busy man. I just hope you won't be like all the others, just brushing me off as worthless. It would be a lie to say the thought of stepping up to you doesn’t bring me a thrill. Add in some tables, ladders, and chairs and it's about a dream come true. I saw what happened at High Stakes. I know what you are bringing to this banquet of pain. I’m hoping we weave the same sort of magic in that ring for this pay per view. So, for you my good doctor, I say let us put on a show... let us show the world the beauty in bloodshed. I will bring you my all, and I know you will do the same.
This brings me to Corey... hello darling! I didn’t expect to have a second date with you quite so soon, but as luck would have it here we are! After our first dance I had hoped to be able to snag a little more one on one time with you, but alas... we are once again set to go the tag team route, not only each having our own partner, but with yet another couple thrown into the mix. It's too bad for you that I no longer have to drag dead weight around. This time, I have a partner who actually knows what it is to put in an effort, and he is very much looking forward to joining us. Of course, he also knows I can handle my own when I step in the ring... and having had the pleasure of your company once before, I have a better idea of what to expect.
As do you. You know I won't back down from anything you bring. You of all, stand to lose the most from this match. Oh sure, Doc losing the tag team straps since he’s the actual champ is upsetting, but you stand to lose them for your best friend. I’d imagine this is going to make you come out fighting even harder. Good. I wouldn’t want it any other way. The only issue is, the wolf on the top of the hill is never as hungry as the ones climbing it... and you have a pair with their sights set on you. And theres BoB too I guess. I’m expecting you to just shove us to the side, like I’ve said many times before. That’s what you do. Who are The Dissentients anyway? Just a part of The Left Hand. They aren't worth your time, right? Silly Lycana, who doesn’t know when to quit.
Our friend Alias got it wrong with me last Warfare, after accusing me of being in the wrong, thinking that I was calling you a pretender by saying you were no longer an unholy, immoral machine... I was not. Merely stating what each of us had been in our pasts. Can't say I'm not disappointed by the fact that I never met The Engineer, so why don’t you bring that dark side you say you have out to frolic with me? Let it take you over, and try to take us out. You can bring me your worst and while it might be enough to secure a win, it will never be enough to put me out for good. So, this little end game you're battling towards? It's all wasted time and energy. But hey, keep it coming. Can’t say I don’t enjoy playing with you at the very least.
I enjoy toying with you my sweet Corey, watching all that venom you spew back at me in response, Its gratifying. As I said once before, I extended my hand and you unknowingly grasped it, focusing on me and trying to get under my skin when in reality... it was me who was already under yours. You did as I wished without even realizing it. Deny it all you please, the truth is there in how you responded. I said ‘come for me’ without speaking the words and you complied. I’ve told you subtly how to bruise me, yet you still dig for the ego... It was all there in front of you, do I need to gift wrap it? Perhaps you will look deeper this time, see if you can find the right buttons to push. Or will you stick with your old reliable? Juvenile insults and jabs that mean absolutely nothing in the bigger picture.
The time is now to feel each other out, to spout off about what our opponents can't do, and what we will do instead. Useless dialect but all part of the way the game is played. All in hopes of sneaking into your opponent's minds if they are weak fools, unsure of themselves. Barbed hooks that tear at delicate brains and egos. Throwing others off their game if done just right. For me, the true test will be played out when we all arrive in that arena together. When all six of us are in the ring, staring at one another. Fists meeting faces. Boots meeting ribs. When flesh meets flesh, wood, and steel alike. Where dreams are made and hopes are lost for many along the way. This is where I am focused, not on all the words we must deal out. We are headed for quite the melee boys, do be sure you are ready.”
