Reunion of Roses

That little self-righteous scowl on Candy Cane was so delicious it had to be fattening. Anesthesia smile only took on the slightest curve at the accusations leveled her way, unable to suppress a chuckle on the sly. It was only further proof that such a tactic wouldn’t have worked on the redhead in the first place, that she would’ve seen through the ruse straightaway. Then again, she wouldn’t have even let herself be put into a position where she’d need such assistance. Too sharp, this one. Too untrusting.

Not like poor, sweet, gullible, damaged Makoto. Oh, no. ”People change, Rebecca.” She brushed a few strands of hair out of her face and shook her head as she took a couple of steps towards the door. ”People change.”

What came next wasn’t too surprising - to her, at least. After all, there was only so many times you could poke and prod even the most obedient dog before it lost its temper and bit you, and Candy Cane was far from placid before they had even stepped into the room.

It did seem like a surprise to Sista A, however. She’d been standing there, proud and sneering, when the kick came her way. She had enough time to widen her eyes and began to raise her arms in defense, but her vaunted instincts were too slow on the draw, this time. The kick crashed against her face, spun her about and down she went, taking a knee as she slumped against the lockers.

They were fighting, the result that Anesthesia wanted, but not in the venue she desired. It had to be public, a real match. This little altercation would be enough for management to greenlight a match, no question, but until then…

Anesthesia rushed at Candy Cane from the side after her kick connected, reeling back and coming at her head with a huge lariat, looking to put her on the floor before she could switch focus.

Nothing could have been sweeter than watching the toe of her boot plow into Aisha's makeup-cream-pie of a face.

Candy spun around from the momentum of her own sweeping leg and leveled a fanged grin on the fallen bimbo at the end of that spin, so, so glad to see her cocky lapdog self already down from the first hit. "Stuff that!" Her wild instincts drove her hard to sail on Aisha's back and start tearing into her until she shoved the woman's mascara up her own ass... but Candy's time as a Rose hadn't been so long ago that she forgot the maniac in the room.

She could not take her green eyes off that freak for more than a second - not because Anesthesia was this great physical threat, but because she would try something.

Whirling in a blur of pigtails and plaid, Candy turned with a ferocious growl towards the nurse's last location, expecting to see her coming up with a weapon or having already worked around behind her.

Candy hated when she was wrong, and an oncoming rush of pink and a lifted arm made her finish the growl with a choked gasp.

Barely - barely - the rocker got her forearms up to protect her head, but that didn't do anything to stop Anesthesia from crashing into them so hard that Candy was nearly flung off of her feet. She did get sent backward, into an adjacent set of lockers, so hard that one beside her popped open. "Agh!"

Dinged and stunned, Candy stumbled between three or four different curses and grasped at the handles of the lockers behind her with both hands as she slumped against them.

"Rrrrrugh!" But with another burst forward, Candy sought to give Anesthesia the exact same treatment, throwing a forearm high to smash her straight in the face as she sped back into the fraud.

Candy Cane was headstrong, but not quite as headstrong as Anesthesia recalled. The little brat of a girl that she’d known in Rumble Roses was an impulsive, impetuous, impertinent imp, one that rarely thought her actions all the way through. Quick to wrath, it only seemed like Muriel’s presence could ever temper her hot, young blood.

This Candy Cane was hardly the soul of caution, but she’d developed some small degree of temperament. Anesthesia had expected her rage to drive her on, thinking she would kick Sista A while she was down and forget that she had two women to worry about. To her surprise, she didn’t.

The clubbing blow didn’t connect clean, with Candy Cane getting up her arm in time block it. That likely made the difference between her standing and not being floor, but it was hardly a complete waste. The redhead was sent reeling, and Anesthesia was quickly moving in for the kill. ”Biting off more than you can-”

Anesthesia wound up taking a stiff forearm in the jaw for her troubles, with Candy Cane proving to be a bit hardier than she remembered, as well. The blow sent her staggering back, nearly tripping over the bench as she went, and she might have taken a knee if she hadn’t grasped the lockers in the time. The blow left her aching and stunned, open for whatever Candy Cane was coming with next.

Thankfully, that wouldn’t be a problem if Sista A had her way. Her compatriot, having just recovered from the kick, launched herself at Candy Cane’s side, looking to tackle her at the waist and slam her right back into the locker she’d just pushed off from.

In the heat of the moment, watching Anesthesia buckle from the forearm felt better than kicking Aisha in the face.

Candy fumbled as her own untamed force threw her off-balance on the follow-through, but avoided a fall with a hand on the bench right after Anesthesia's stumbles jarred it. Feeling instantly like a conqueror from getting the first blows in on both of the looney tunes, Candy came up with a feral smile. And it turned out a staggered Anesthesia was a hell of a more enticing target than Aisha. The redhead zeroed in, thinking she saw just the spot to maybe knock the nurse into sanity and back again.

She reared back, lifted her foot, and just as the unceremonious thrust threatened to send a heel into Anesthesia's temple, Candy was cut in half from the side. "Waa- GNAH!", she wailed, with her body's crash into the lockers nearly drowning out the sound as they shifted back an inch. Every bone in her damned body rattled, and this time there was no holding herself up - limp, she started to slump, shirt snagging against all the metallic imperfections in the locker.

But like a pit bull cornered on a dead-end street, Candy scrapped. The briefest glimpse at the top of Aisha's bleached head brought a refreshed growl to the rocker's throat, and though barely holding her balance, she brought a cascade of fists down towards Aisha's back, neck, and ears, trying to find one blow that would force the crummy excuse of a diva to "Let me... the..." hell off the lockers.

Anesthesia’s patience was officially wearing thin. She didn’t mind getting physical, not in the least. In truth, she would’ve relished the chance to fight Candy Cane again. On her own terms. At a time and setting of her choosing. A chance to feel how that body of hers had developed, to feel it against her, to have her thrashing and pleading and screaming in her grip while the masses looked on…

In time. In time.

But not like this, not this way. Candy Cane seemed determined to go down fighting, and for nothing. This wouldn’t change anything, wouldn’t serve anyone’s interest, and was a waste of everyone’s energy. It needed to end.

It was good, then, that Sista A picked this moment to remind Anesthesia why she employed her in the first place, rushing in to save her from what would’ve likely been a crushing blow to the face. Candy Cane was up against the locker again, hurt and cornered and growing more incensed by the second. She thrashed away, hammering Sista A’s back, landing blow after haphazard blow. No technique, no thought, just blind rage fueled by revenge.

And Anesthesia had her fill of it. ”Enough.” Standing up quick, she moved towards the fracas. Sista A glimpsed her way, then held on tighter than ever to Candy Cane, no doubt sensing her intentions.

Anesthesia turned to the side, raised her leg up, and shot it out with a superkick aimed at the side of Candy Cane’s head, driving her heel right into the temple.

When her fists failed to work, Candy started adding knees. One way or another, she would pound this bitch so hard she would have to get herself off of the redhead or end up in the hospital with a busted rib or kidney or anything else important that the redhead could bash and leave a lasting reminder.

Except, with no balance to her stance and no momentum to gather behind her blows, the redhead's efforts proved blunt, as ineffective as her flailing appendages. So she went to stomps, searching for toes that her boots never found. And then back to punching, rasping in fury with every one of her swings. "Let. Me. Go!" She cracked downwards with an elbow that she could immediately tell, in complete disgust, lost all of its bite before it hit while they writhed and bucked against the lockers - which had already scraped four or five streaks of pain down the redhead's back in the struggle.

Damn it, if she could just...

But she wasn't going to just. Maybe she just had to - damn it - get the frick out of this room. It pissed her off, but she had been stuck with one too many ifs in these fights lately when she should have been able to bash her way out.

She had to pry Aisha off. Make a break for it. Not that it would help since everyone useful in this place they had apparently either ambushed already, the same as Candy, or hypnotized.

Her green eyes flashed to her locker. She could... grab her guitar. There was an idea too. Fend them off until they thought better of taking a couple of metal pickups to the skull and either let her get out of here or pissed off on their own.

Yeah, screw it, that would do. Wrenching her torso backward while her hands searched for Aisha's chin, Candy resolved herself to get herself unwedged and let out a tremendous grunt of effort as she shoved. After giving another glance to the locker, she switched to the rest of the room, where she had caught Anesthesia pushing herself in her peripheral a second before. That bitch would be slipping her way arou-

Her whirling head tilted right into the meat of the kick, every inch of the nurse's heel catching her right behind the brow, and a sharp gasp left her lips. Eyes blinded with stars, Candy pitched listlessly to the side, supported only by Aisha's tight grip.

Goddamn, Sista A had almost forgotten how fucking tough the little pigtailed brat could be. In her defense, it wasn’t the hardest thing to do. When she looked at Candy Cane, she’d always seen a girl who was trying way too hard to be tough, living her punk lifestyle, going for the mean bitch look and the schoolgirl vibe at the same time. She’d come across a dozen Candy Canes when she was going through high school, and she’d put them all down when they’d stepped up to her.

This one was different, though. She wouldn’t say it out loud, wouldn’t give her the satisfaction, but Candy Cane could scrap, and she hadn’t gotten slower with age. If anything, she was hitting stronger than ever, drilling down on Sista A with furious force. She could’ve taken it in a straight up fight, but Sista A was getting worn down.

Yeah, ‘enough’. For once, Anesthesia was right on the money. So was her kick, as a matter of fact.

It was a good thing to see that their training together hadn’t been all that one-sided, with the World’s Naughtiest Nurse busting out a move that was more in her wheelhouse. The blow connected, filling the locker room with the sound of a crashing coconut. Sista A’s only regret was that she wasn’t in a good position to see that look on Candy Cane’s face, but she damn sure felt the ripple effects go through her. It was like her body shut down, piece by piece, until she was just slumping down. Sista A was the only thing keeping her up.

She didn’t have a problem with supporting Candy Cane, but not without an added bonus. ”Fucking!” She pressed one arm against Candy Cane’s throat and used the other to slam a hard hook into her bared stomach.

”Stupid!” And another punch. A shame, Candy Cane always seemed so proud of her toned abs.

”Bitch!” Another on top of those. She’d brought out the worst in Sista A. Good to know she still had that talent.

For Anesthesia’s part, she took a moment to compose herself and dust off, wiping off the grime from her outfit while her compatriot went to work. After a moment, however, she raised her hand, giving Sista A the silent command to stop the beating. Instead, she held Candy Cane in place as Anesthesia came over, letting out a long sigh as she approached.

”I wanted this to be simple, Rebecca, but everything has to be difficult with you, doesn’t it? Another thing you and your dear teacher share in common, I’m afraid.” She leaned against the nearest locker room and slide forward on her shoulder, until she was just close enough to whisper in Candy Cane’s ear. Her breath came over the ruffian’s skin like a cooling wind. ”I was hoping you might be interested in a match with Aisha, here. Perhaps a street fight in the cage, just like the old days, hm?