Post by Astrid Hall on Jul 7, 2017 1:07:57 GMT
Astrid sat back in her seat, smiling happily as she looked out over the crowded bar that she had found. She was grateful that people at the hotel had been able to translate for her, as she didn't speak a word of Spanish - but Gabriella had assured her that this place came very highly recommended by the locals, and even though she couldn't understand much of the context of what was going on, she could see why. The atmosphere was positively vibrant, and the food was truly authentic Spanish cuisine. She'd had the sort of fake stuff that you could find everywhere in the states, but there was something magical about the experience of sitting down in a place the locals enjoy, and digging in to some truly authentic regional fare. She was even able to forgive the fact that they didn't have Mead on the menu - the food was good, and the local reserve beer was more than enough to satisfy her cravings.
Astrid sat alone at her table, enjoying her personal feast with relish - Paella with sides of tigres, beef and potato empanadas, and a massive bowl of albondigas with a double order of Pulpo A La Gallega. Even though she was alone tonight, this was the life of a proper warrior - travelling the world and enjoying feasts such as this in places that none of her family had ever dreamed of visiting. Of course she would have preferred to be able to share such wonders with someone, but even alone it was an almost paradisaical life that she had been gifted with the opportunity to lead.
Her joyful reverie was shaken by the sound of a loud argument from across the room, and Astrid turned to try to see what was going on. On the other end of the bar, she could see two men having a loud conversation with a young woman - a little waif of a girl, probably no older than 19. The men were older, and from the looks of things she had turned them down for a night of company, and they were having none of it. Astrid didn't want to interfere in an argument, of course, especially given that without language she couldn't fully understand what was going on and thus she could easily misunderstand... but there were some things that were easily understandable in any language.
One of those things is when a larger man grabs a woman by the wrist with one hand, and backhands her hard across the mouth with the other.
Another one of those things is when a second man takes the opportunity to shove his hand down the front of the girl's jeans.
"HEY!" Astrid shouted, her booming voice turning all eyes in the bar on her. She stood, realizing that she was taller than both of the men, and stepped carefully away from her table so as not to spill any of her food.
One of the men - the one who had gotten a little handsy - stepped forward while the other still hung on to the girl. "¿Qué quieres, perra?"
Dammit. She had no idea what the man had just said, but she knew it wasn't friendly. Where was Gabby when she needed her? "Hey, look... uh... No hablo los pantalones de gato."
She had just expended the entirety of her Spanish vocabulary. She was pretty sure she just told him that she didn't speak the language of cat pants. As intimidating words went, it had much to be desired.
The man looked at Astrid with utter incredulity before looking back at his friend and laughing. He turned back to her, hand reaching for his pocket, stepping forward with a grinning leer. "¿Qué mierda dijiste? ¿Quieres unirte a nosotros para divertirnos? Dime, puta - ¿tu coño es tan grande como tú?"
Astrid sighed. "Look, man. Just let the girl go, and we can walk outta here happy and enjoy our evenings."
The man laughed again, pulling a knife from his pocket. "No sé lo que usted dijo, pero voy a tomar como un: Sí, por favor, fóllame en público. Déjame cortar esas ropas."
Astrid looked at the knife for a moment. She blinked. Then she smiled.
"Little man, you have no idea how happy I am you just did that."
...
Three minutes later, Astrid held her hand down to the young girl on the ground, offering to help her up from where she'd fallen when the unconscious man in the corner had dropped her. He had tried to help the unconscious man in the smashed table ten feet away after Astrid had disarmed him of his little knife by snapping his wrist with her hand. Astrid wasn't injured at all, which was good, because she might have frightened the girl if she had any blood on her face - either hers or her opponents. The bartender was calling the police, hopefully to have the two men picked up and hauled away - Astrid had already made a point to give him cash to cover the broken table. Since the man had pulled a knife on her and she'd responded with nonlethal force, she was fairly certain that there wouldn't be a problem... especially after the bar had erupted into cheers when she put the bigger one down.
"You're alright now," She said, keeping her voice and face as kind as possible. "They won't hurt you. Do you speak any English?"
Hesitantly, the girl nodded. "Si... er, yes. I studied in college a year ago. Thank you."
Astrid shook her head. "No need to thank me. Everyone in here should have piled on to those assholes. My name's Astrid. What's yours?"
She smiled. "Clara. My name is Clara."
She took Astrid's hand, and the taller woman helped the girl effortlessly to her feet. "Well, Clara... would you care to join me for dinner? I think I might have thrown one of these assholes through yours. Sorry about that. I'll buy you another?"
Clara laughed and nodded. "Thank you very much. I wouldn't mind staying with you until the police take these two jerks away anyways." She glanced down at the two men. "I've never seen anyone fight like that. He could have stabbed you. Why did you risk your life for me?"
Astrid chuckled dismissively. "You needed help, and they were being bullies... and I really, really don't like bullies."
"I tell you, I've been hearing a lot of crazy stuff coming out of Maxine's mouth lately."
Camera comes up on Astrid sitting outside the Madrid Royal Palace, the largest royal palace in Western Europe and considered by many to be the most beautiful building in Madrid. Astrid is leaning against a wall with the palace in the background, enjoying some of Spain's summer sun.
"A lot of talk about bringing war and stuff last week before her fight with Alicia. A lot of stuff about sicknesses and viruses like we're already in a post-apocalyptic world. Don't know about you guys, but if we can have buildings like THAT while sitting in sun like THIS? Then either we had the nicest apocalypse ever imagined, or Maxine Valentine's just a delusional madwoman."
She shrugs and grins, rising to her feet and walking through the crowd as the camera follows her. "And given some of the other things she said, I'm pretty sure my vote's going towards the latter of those two. You got me all excited before Sacrifice, Maxine! You made me some nice promises before that match. I remember! You said that you were going to use Alicia to show me the error of my ways, how you were going to... what was it...? That's right! Carry her carcass to me as a trophy and lay it at me feet. Really, Maxine, that was some nice poetry. But... see, the thing is..."
Astrid stops and looks down at her feet. She looks around herself for a moment before turning back to the camera and arching an eyebrow with a smirk. "Unless she turned invisible, I don't see Alicia Lukas here. In fact, as I recall, I remember your shoulders on the mat as the referee pulled the three count, throwing you headlong down to the bottom of the rankings for Heiress to the Throne. Not that you matter about that, I'm sure, because... well, you said so last week, and you're a woman of your word."
She glances downwards again and frowns. "Oh. Right. Never mind."
She looks back up at the camera and continues walking. "Don't get me wrong, Maxine - I respect you as a warrior should respect a legitimate threat. I've seen what you can do in the ring, and I know you're going to be making me fight a battle that's just not like anything I've ever fought before. You and I tower over the rest of the Diamonds Division by damn near a whole head, and even though I was telling you to pick on someone you're own size, I fully recognize that I've never actually fought a girl who could come as close as you do to looking me in the eyes. You're big, you're hella tough, strong as a damn ox, and one of the most vicious and brutal girls in the company. More important than any of that, though, is that you are - without a doubt - a fighter to the core. I mean that as one of the highest compliments that I can offer, and I mean it sincerely. You love the fight. You live for it. You thrive in battle, have it pulsing through your blood, in a way that so many girls here just don't understand. While others are here for the fame, the fortune, the thrill, or for the chance to hurt people - you're here because you're looking for the biggest, baddest fights you can find... and gods help me, I can't help but respect the hell out of you for that. You're more like me than most here would admit, and its one of the reasons that I know you and I are going to put on one hell of a show."
She stops walking again, expression hesitant. "And yet... through it all, when I look a little closer, a lot of that respect kinda... vanishes."
She turns towards the camera, eyes firm and narrowing with anger. "I like to fight because I love bettering myself through competition. I like to fight not just because it makes me happy, but by doing it here in the IWF I can make thousands of fans happy as well. I like to fight so that when the time comes that I need to take up arms to protect good, innocent people form predators, I can make this world a better place by saving people, one would-be victim at a time. I like to fight, Maxine, because fighting and competing makes me a better person - every fight, every day. But you? No. No, I don't see that motive in you. I think you like to fight because you enjoy BEATING people. You might not be as much of a sadist as the Svartálfar, but I see in your eyes just how much you enjoy dominating others, no matter whether or not it was a challenge for you to do so. Peel away the layers, Maxine, and it is clear to see that you're not just a warrior... but a bully. Using your strength to make the yourself - and the world - worse. Worse with every fight and every day. We're so very alike, you and I... but so explosively different as well.
I saw the signs. I've seen them for a while. But it was when I saw you continuing your beatdown on Crystal Miller, almost a month ago now, that I knew... knew as certainly as the sky above and the earth below... that you needed to be put down, hard. Not just because I wanted to. Not just because I knew that you'd challenge me, and make me better for overcoming it... but because as long as you're here, doing what you're doing in the IWF... you make the Diamonds Division a worse place.
Worse with every fight.
Worse with every day."
She spreads her arms wide. "I've been talking a lot about my journey to Last Vegas, walking out of Night of the Immortals 2017 with a championship in hand. This isn't about that journey. This is just about me and you, Maxine... and giving a bully the beatdown that you deserve. So bring it on, Valentine. Give me everything you have - every ounce of strength and every dirty trick, so that I can show you that no matter what you throw at me... a bully's strength isn't enough."
Astrid sat alone at her table, enjoying her personal feast with relish - Paella with sides of tigres, beef and potato empanadas, and a massive bowl of albondigas with a double order of Pulpo A La Gallega. Even though she was alone tonight, this was the life of a proper warrior - travelling the world and enjoying feasts such as this in places that none of her family had ever dreamed of visiting. Of course she would have preferred to be able to share such wonders with someone, but even alone it was an almost paradisaical life that she had been gifted with the opportunity to lead.
Her joyful reverie was shaken by the sound of a loud argument from across the room, and Astrid turned to try to see what was going on. On the other end of the bar, she could see two men having a loud conversation with a young woman - a little waif of a girl, probably no older than 19. The men were older, and from the looks of things she had turned them down for a night of company, and they were having none of it. Astrid didn't want to interfere in an argument, of course, especially given that without language she couldn't fully understand what was going on and thus she could easily misunderstand... but there were some things that were easily understandable in any language.
One of those things is when a larger man grabs a woman by the wrist with one hand, and backhands her hard across the mouth with the other.
Another one of those things is when a second man takes the opportunity to shove his hand down the front of the girl's jeans.
"HEY!" Astrid shouted, her booming voice turning all eyes in the bar on her. She stood, realizing that she was taller than both of the men, and stepped carefully away from her table so as not to spill any of her food.
One of the men - the one who had gotten a little handsy - stepped forward while the other still hung on to the girl. "¿Qué quieres, perra?"
Dammit. She had no idea what the man had just said, but she knew it wasn't friendly. Where was Gabby when she needed her? "Hey, look... uh... No hablo los pantalones de gato."
She had just expended the entirety of her Spanish vocabulary. She was pretty sure she just told him that she didn't speak the language of cat pants. As intimidating words went, it had much to be desired.
The man looked at Astrid with utter incredulity before looking back at his friend and laughing. He turned back to her, hand reaching for his pocket, stepping forward with a grinning leer. "¿Qué mierda dijiste? ¿Quieres unirte a nosotros para divertirnos? Dime, puta - ¿tu coño es tan grande como tú?"
Astrid sighed. "Look, man. Just let the girl go, and we can walk outta here happy and enjoy our evenings."
The man laughed again, pulling a knife from his pocket. "No sé lo que usted dijo, pero voy a tomar como un: Sí, por favor, fóllame en público. Déjame cortar esas ropas."
Astrid looked at the knife for a moment. She blinked. Then she smiled.
"Little man, you have no idea how happy I am you just did that."
...
Three minutes later, Astrid held her hand down to the young girl on the ground, offering to help her up from where she'd fallen when the unconscious man in the corner had dropped her. He had tried to help the unconscious man in the smashed table ten feet away after Astrid had disarmed him of his little knife by snapping his wrist with her hand. Astrid wasn't injured at all, which was good, because she might have frightened the girl if she had any blood on her face - either hers or her opponents. The bartender was calling the police, hopefully to have the two men picked up and hauled away - Astrid had already made a point to give him cash to cover the broken table. Since the man had pulled a knife on her and she'd responded with nonlethal force, she was fairly certain that there wouldn't be a problem... especially after the bar had erupted into cheers when she put the bigger one down.
"You're alright now," She said, keeping her voice and face as kind as possible. "They won't hurt you. Do you speak any English?"
Hesitantly, the girl nodded. "Si... er, yes. I studied in college a year ago. Thank you."
Astrid shook her head. "No need to thank me. Everyone in here should have piled on to those assholes. My name's Astrid. What's yours?"
She smiled. "Clara. My name is Clara."
She took Astrid's hand, and the taller woman helped the girl effortlessly to her feet. "Well, Clara... would you care to join me for dinner? I think I might have thrown one of these assholes through yours. Sorry about that. I'll buy you another?"
Clara laughed and nodded. "Thank you very much. I wouldn't mind staying with you until the police take these two jerks away anyways." She glanced down at the two men. "I've never seen anyone fight like that. He could have stabbed you. Why did you risk your life for me?"
Astrid chuckled dismissively. "You needed help, and they were being bullies... and I really, really don't like bullies."
"I tell you, I've been hearing a lot of crazy stuff coming out of Maxine's mouth lately."
Camera comes up on Astrid sitting outside the Madrid Royal Palace, the largest royal palace in Western Europe and considered by many to be the most beautiful building in Madrid. Astrid is leaning against a wall with the palace in the background, enjoying some of Spain's summer sun.
"A lot of talk about bringing war and stuff last week before her fight with Alicia. A lot of stuff about sicknesses and viruses like we're already in a post-apocalyptic world. Don't know about you guys, but if we can have buildings like THAT while sitting in sun like THIS? Then either we had the nicest apocalypse ever imagined, or Maxine Valentine's just a delusional madwoman."
She shrugs and grins, rising to her feet and walking through the crowd as the camera follows her. "And given some of the other things she said, I'm pretty sure my vote's going towards the latter of those two. You got me all excited before Sacrifice, Maxine! You made me some nice promises before that match. I remember! You said that you were going to use Alicia to show me the error of my ways, how you were going to... what was it...? That's right! Carry her carcass to me as a trophy and lay it at me feet. Really, Maxine, that was some nice poetry. But... see, the thing is..."
Astrid stops and looks down at her feet. She looks around herself for a moment before turning back to the camera and arching an eyebrow with a smirk. "Unless she turned invisible, I don't see Alicia Lukas here. In fact, as I recall, I remember your shoulders on the mat as the referee pulled the three count, throwing you headlong down to the bottom of the rankings for Heiress to the Throne. Not that you matter about that, I'm sure, because... well, you said so last week, and you're a woman of your word."
She glances downwards again and frowns. "Oh. Right. Never mind."
She looks back up at the camera and continues walking. "Don't get me wrong, Maxine - I respect you as a warrior should respect a legitimate threat. I've seen what you can do in the ring, and I know you're going to be making me fight a battle that's just not like anything I've ever fought before. You and I tower over the rest of the Diamonds Division by damn near a whole head, and even though I was telling you to pick on someone you're own size, I fully recognize that I've never actually fought a girl who could come as close as you do to looking me in the eyes. You're big, you're hella tough, strong as a damn ox, and one of the most vicious and brutal girls in the company. More important than any of that, though, is that you are - without a doubt - a fighter to the core. I mean that as one of the highest compliments that I can offer, and I mean it sincerely. You love the fight. You live for it. You thrive in battle, have it pulsing through your blood, in a way that so many girls here just don't understand. While others are here for the fame, the fortune, the thrill, or for the chance to hurt people - you're here because you're looking for the biggest, baddest fights you can find... and gods help me, I can't help but respect the hell out of you for that. You're more like me than most here would admit, and its one of the reasons that I know you and I are going to put on one hell of a show."
She stops walking again, expression hesitant. "And yet... through it all, when I look a little closer, a lot of that respect kinda... vanishes."
She turns towards the camera, eyes firm and narrowing with anger. "I like to fight because I love bettering myself through competition. I like to fight not just because it makes me happy, but by doing it here in the IWF I can make thousands of fans happy as well. I like to fight so that when the time comes that I need to take up arms to protect good, innocent people form predators, I can make this world a better place by saving people, one would-be victim at a time. I like to fight, Maxine, because fighting and competing makes me a better person - every fight, every day. But you? No. No, I don't see that motive in you. I think you like to fight because you enjoy BEATING people. You might not be as much of a sadist as the Svartálfar, but I see in your eyes just how much you enjoy dominating others, no matter whether or not it was a challenge for you to do so. Peel away the layers, Maxine, and it is clear to see that you're not just a warrior... but a bully. Using your strength to make the yourself - and the world - worse. Worse with every fight and every day. We're so very alike, you and I... but so explosively different as well.
I saw the signs. I've seen them for a while. But it was when I saw you continuing your beatdown on Crystal Miller, almost a month ago now, that I knew... knew as certainly as the sky above and the earth below... that you needed to be put down, hard. Not just because I wanted to. Not just because I knew that you'd challenge me, and make me better for overcoming it... but because as long as you're here, doing what you're doing in the IWF... you make the Diamonds Division a worse place.
Worse with every fight.
Worse with every day."
She spreads her arms wide. "I've been talking a lot about my journey to Last Vegas, walking out of Night of the Immortals 2017 with a championship in hand. This isn't about that journey. This is just about me and you, Maxine... and giving a bully the beatdown that you deserve. So bring it on, Valentine. Give me everything you have - every ounce of strength and every dirty trick, so that I can show you that no matter what you throw at me... a bully's strength isn't enough."
Well howdy there pardner.