Previous Chapters: http://www.comicvine.com/forums/fan-fic/8/ravager4s-fan-fic-archives/660884/#1
Disclaimer: I do not own any DC characters or locations. All rights belong to DC Comics.
Rating: T+
Note: This particular chapter is a little slow plot wise, but it's just the lead in for the story arc, which will admittedly probably be a bit shorter than the last one. Hopefully it still keeps you readers entertained, though!
Rose Wilson: The Ravager #8
Int. The Orchid Lounge Nightclub – Night
Rose sits quietly on the small, wooden bench, working on taping her hands up. She doesn't need to protect her knuckles or her wrist, and she certainly doesn't need to add to the damage her punches can already do, but she might as well look the part. She's currently two levels below The Orchid Lounge, a nightclub near the heart of Silverstone City, about a three hundred miles away from Gotham. It's been three weeks since she left, three weeks since she went looking for a new place to stay... three weeks since she made a fool out of herself trying to come on to Dick, only to be shot down.
That's all behind her now, though. Now, her mind is focused only on the upcoming fight she's preparing for. She heard about it shortly after arriving in Silverstone, whispers of an underground fight club with no rules, no limits, and huge cash payouts to the winners. In serious need of funds, she decided to find the place and enter; her skills aren't much suited for anything else, after all. No way in hell she's about to go work at a Taco Bell.
According to the manager, the fight club functions as a series of tournaments, with different brackets depending on a person's renown and skill level. One tournament takes place per night, three nights a week, and in front of an audience consisting of some of the biggest criminal scumbags in the city, from small timers to mob bosses. Bets are made on each fight, with payouts taking place at the end of the night. At the end of the tournament, activities end and everyone goes home, until next time.
Tournament entries come from all different backgrounds; mafia thugs, MMA hopefuls, boxers past their prime, and then the more talented fighters looking to make themselves or their bosses heaps of cash. Since Rose is a brand new entry, with no background on her whatsoever as far as these guys are concerned, she's forced to start out on the bottom bracket, basically the fodder tournament. It consists of only the more unskilled entries, and offers only menial entertainment. The audience isn't nearly as large for these fights as it would be for the upper level brackets, where the real betting takes place.
As such, Rose's payout at the end of the night won't be huge, not yet, not until she earns her place and makes herself known. She doesn't like being around this much underworld scum; they're thieves, murderers, rapists, and the like. But she puts up with it. She isn't here to bust them. She didn't come to Silverstone to be the new cape in town. All she wants to do is make her own way in life, and right now, that way involves beating up a bunch of nobodies and getting paid for it.
Finishing with her tape job, Rose sits up and looks around. She's in a small locker room, which connects to the corridor leading to the ring; that's where all the tournament bouts take place. It's silent, save for the muffled thump-thump-thumping of the club music coming from two levels above her. The fight club itself is fairly well hidden, not to mention well guarded. The only way to get in is to know about it, and to know about it, you had to have the right kinds of connections. It had been mere chance that she overheard the manager and one of his clients talking about it a few nights ago, while visiting the club herself.
A knock on the door suddenly calls her from her thoughts, followed by a man's voice on the other side; it's the manager.
Manager: Miss? You decent?
Rose: I'm good.
She's wearing her workout pants and a sports bra, the only real attire other than her actual Ravager costume that's suited for sanctioned fights. Maybe if she wins a decent amount tonight, she'll go out and buy something more appropriate. As the door opens, she stands up from her seat and cracks her neck from side to side, loosening herself up.
The manager is a small, portly, and balding man, dressed in slick, dark clothes that really only someone taller and better proportioned should be wearing. A pair of sunglasses adorn his face, despite the fact that he's indoors at night, and wears a variety of jewelry, from large gold rings around his fingers, to dangling chains around his neck.
Manager: You almost ready? You're on in five.
Rose: I'm plenty ready. Just show me to the ring and let's get this done with.
Manager: You're absolutely sure you want to do this? I mean, while there aren't any rules restricting women from participating, and you are in very fine shape, these are some really tough guys we're talking about here. Would be a real shame to see a pretty thing like yourself get roughed up.
Rose: You set 'em up, I'll knock 'em down. That's all you need to get through that bald head of yours, got it?
Manager: Sure, sure, got it. Just know that we're not responsible for any injuries you may incur as a result from these bouts, nor do we cover any medical expenses you might find yourself with as a result. Capiche?
Rose: I hope you gave my opponents the same speech; they're the ones who need to worry about it.
Manager: Right, of course, whatever you say.
The man then takes a step closer, his eyes narrowing and focusing on the white colored eye patch covering Rose's left eye. Curiously, he starts reaching up his hand, as if to touch it.
Manager: How do you expect to fight with this thing, anyway? You making some kind of fashion statement, or are you really missing an-
He stops, as Rose lashes her hand up and grabs his wrist, forcing his grubby fingers away from her face.
Rose: Hands to yourself, or you'll be missing one.
Manager: Alright, alright, sheesh. Anyway, better get going. Fight starts in... two minutes now.
The manager motions for her to follow him, leading her out of the locker room and through the long corridor that connects to the fighting area. When they finally move through the doors, Rose lifts an eyebrow in surprise. The 'ring' that she's supposed to be fighting in is more like a small arena. Not quite as large or elaborate as the one she fought in during her stint with the Terror Titans, but impressive nonetheless, especially considering it being located beneath a nightclub.
The audience wraps around the whole arena, in raised seats made of soft, padded leather, along with electronic betting devices integrated into the arms of each. As expected of her entry level bracket, the audience itself is rather small. There are far more empty seats than occupied ones, and those present don't look to be eagerly anticipating the upcoming fights. They're likely only there so scout the up and comers, and maybe throw in a few small bets here and there.
As Rose makes her way to the center of the arena, she notices her opponent entering from the other side. He's a tall man, built broad with moderate muscle definition and dressed in boxing trunks. She has to refrain from openly grinning; the poor guy doesn't know what he's getting himself into. If all of her opponents are as big a pushover as this one looks to be, she'll be walking through these fights.
When Rose and her opponent, whose name she had been told is Ken Burke, make it to center, he scoffs and folds his arms.
Ken: Are they serious? I gotta fight a chick?
Rose: There a problem with that?
Ken: I just didn't sign up to be beating on women, is all. You know what you're getting yourself into?
Rose: Do you?
A few moments later, the announcer's voice comes in over a loudspeaker.
Announcer: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to another exciting night of The Orchid Lounge Fight Club. We have a lot of new contestants ready to show off their skill, so let's get things started, shall we? Remember, you can place your bets using the monitors located on the right arms of your seats, and there is no limit to how much you can put down. Now then, allow me to introduce to you the first fighters of the night! From our very own Midtown district, we have Ken Burke, a regular here at the Orchid Lounge, and a real rising boxer.
This time, Rose can't keep the grin from forming. If this guy is trying to become a boxer, he's in the wrong place. She almost feels bad for him, having to fight against her in the first round tonight. This isn't a boxing match, after all, and Ken is going to soon find himself way out of his league.
Announcer: And then we have a brand new entry tonight, the very beautiful, and very talented Lillian Wilson.
She isn't stupid; she isn't going to give her real name in a place like this. Instead, she had chosen to use her mother's name as her alias. It still fits her just fine.
Announcer: At least, I'm told she's talented, we have yet to see what she can do in the ring! Is anyone out there daring enough to place a bet on an unknown? You have three minutes before the match begins to decide, so choose wisely!
Ken hops around on his toes to keep loose, as they wait for the match to begin. He briefly shadow boxes, throwing a few punches into the air taking in even breaths. Rose is sure he's a plenty talented boxer, at least for the amateur that he is, but she knows this isn't going to end well for him. The three minutes go by fairly quickly, all bets placed and ready to go. With all preparations taken care of, the announcer starts things up.
Announcer: Is everyone ready? In that case, let's get started! Contestants, keep in mind that the fighting continues until someone gives up or is unable to continue. Aside from that, there are no rules. Now, begin!
Ken: Don't worry, I'll go easy on you; wouldn't want to mess up that pretty face of yours, after all. Maybe after this is over, I can buy you a drink upstairs. Or we can head back to my place, whatever floats your boat.
Instead of saying anything in response, Rose moves in quickly and delivers a hard cross punch to the guy's jaw. He reels backwards, clutching his cheek and stumbling to keep his balance; the blow nearly knocks him off his feet.
Rose: Got anything else you want to add?
Ken: $@%#, what the hell?
Rose: This is a fight remember? Might want to keep that in mind.
Ken recovers, shaking the punch off and countering with a couple jabs of his own. He doesn't even come close to hitting her; by the time he finishes throwing his second punch, she's already coming up from beneath him with an uppercut that whips his head backwards, followed by a spinning roundhouse to the gut. Surprised murmurs begin to travel through the audience. Clearly, not many had been quite expecting the fight to go this way.
Rose starts bouncing on her toes and takes a boxing stance, mocking her opponent with a smirk. He glances up at her, frowning and glaring at her; he's a proud man, and he won't be giving up in this fight. No, he'll keep going until he can't stand anymore, which doesn't take very long. Ken charges in again, this time throwing all care or skill out the window and swinging wild. Rose sidesteps out of the way, keeping light on her feet, then brings in a hard punch to his side, knuckles digging in between his ribs.
When he doubles over from the stabbing pain, Rose jumps straight up slightly, raising her knee hard and exploding it straight into his face. Grunting in surprise, Ken stumbles back with blood gushing down out his nostrils, nose broken. Before he even gets a chance to comprehend how badly he's losing, she finishes things with another spinning kick, this one crashing across his face and sending him to the ground; he doesn't get back up, instead lying there and groaning, likely with no idea where he is anymore.
Announcer: What a shocking result! And quite the impressive show from Lillian; I can't recall a more one sided fight. I hope a few of you out there took a chance on the new girl!
Turning from the arena, Rose walks casually back towards the corridor that leads to the locker room. With that win, she'll have another fight soon, whenever the rest of the round one bouts finish up. She can't recall exactly how many participants are in the tournament, but she shouldn't have to fight more than maybe four times in total. What she does remember is that whoever wins the whole tournament gets an extra bonus, in addition to the sum given for each individual victory.
As she nears the hallway, the fight club manager appears, running up to her in a hurry.
Manager: Okay, okay! I take back every doubt I had about you! I mean, that was great, incredible. Where did you learn how to fight like that?
Rose: I've been around.
Manager: Of course, gotta keep the mystery, I get it. But damn, you can bet people took notice of you for that one. I mean, sure, Ken isn't the best we have to offer, but people knew him. He's been a pretty prominent figure in the lower brackets for a few months, even won a couple times. But then you come in out of nowhere and beat him, and you made it look easy! Keep this up, kid, and you'll be on your way to the upper brackets; that's where the real money is.
Rose: Well, that is the goal. I didn't come here to lose, I came here to make some cash.
Manager: Just keep doing what you did back there, and I'll see that you get there myself!
Int. Rose's Apartment – Night
It's close to three in the morning by the time she gets back from The Orchid Lounge, but it's worth it. Following her bout with Ken, she beat the next three fighters, and did it just as seamlessly as she had the first time, becoming the first person in any bracket of the tournament's history to win during her debut. Even more impressive, is that no one had even heard of her until several hours ago. In a single night, she'd gone from a complete unknown to a favorite. When she returns the following week for the next tournament, she'll have a lot more eyes paying attention to her.
Overall, she had won two-hundred and fifty dollars that night; nothing spectacular, but it's two-hundred and fifty dollars more than she had going into the night. She's happy just to have it, especially considering it'll be the only money she makes all week, until next time. As it stands right now, she can barely afford the tiny rathole of an apartment that she recently set herself up with.
Just temporary, she tells herself. You start getting a steady income, Rose, then you can find a place that doesn't look like it should be the scene of a murder investigation on CSI.
She throws her shoulder bag over onto the old couch, then heads over to the refrigerator and takes out a beer. On her budget, she can only afford the cheap kind, and it tastes like garbage on the way down. Still, cheap beer is better than no beer, even if it is bitter as hell. After finishing her drink, she tosses the empty bottle into the sink and heads straight to bed.
Int. The Orchid Lounge Nightclub – Night
One month later...
Manager: Alright, this is it, Lil. You're debuting in the upper brackets tonight, so things will be a little lot than you've been used to so far. Just remember, I vouched for you to get you up here; no one's advanced this much in such a short amount of time, and you're the first to skip over the mid brackets completely. So, you know, don't go getting your ass handed to you and go making me look bad, now.
Rose glances up from her seat on the locker room bench, just glaring at him.
Manager: Uh, not that I think that's going to happen, of course! Let's be real here, you're a machine. Four weeks at this and you haven't lost a match yet! I tell you, I've never seen anything like it.
Rose: I've had a lot of practice.
Manager: Right, right, I'm sure you have. Either way, you're gonna turn a lot of heads tonight, I'm sure of it. You keep on winning, and you're in for a real treat, I'm telling you. You said you were in this to earn some cash? Well, the winner of these tournaments can take home up to five grand a night, if the bets are good.
At the mention of potential earnings, Rose's eyebrows lift in surprise. Five grand in one night? Now that's something she can live with.
Rose: Then let's get this show started; we're wasting time.
Within the next few minutes, Rose is standing in the middle of the arena again, facing off against her newest opponent, a man named Sheamus Finnegan. The only thing she knows about him is that he apparently has ties to the Irish Mob. She knows that he won't be the pushover that the others in the lower brackets were, even if she'll still likely win in the end. He certainly doesn't look like a pushover at least, his body absolutely ripped with hard muscle, a body that he's honed into a weapon.
Rose only half hears the announcer introducing the two combatants and telling the audience to place their bets. She's too busy studying Sheamus, trying to get a feel for how she should approach him. He's doing the same to her, remaining silent and simply staring. He isn't taking her as lightly as Ken first did; if she's made it into the upper brackets, then he knows she's good.
Announcer: And begin!
As the bout commences, Rose instantly comes out of her thoughts and falls into a determined focus, squaring off against her opponent. The two begin to attack each other, coming in with quick, precise blows. She has to admit, this Sheamus guy is fast, and he knows what he's doing. Unfortunately for him, he doesn't have metahuman enhancements to help him. Rose, on the other hand, is on an entirely different combative level.
Even though she knows she can end the fight quickly, she instead finds herself putting on a show, letting him land a few hits only to come back with counters of her own. It isn't anything she can't handle, and the crowd eats it up. The audience is packed full tonight, too, here to see the real competition that this fight club has to offer. They eagerly lean forward in their seats, hanging on each punch, each kick. Eventually, though, Rose has to bring things to a close; she has more fights to win tonight, after all.
She makes sure it looks good, going for a more stylistic approach than a practical one. It isn't something she'd try if she were fighting a person of equal skill, but this isn't someone like Dick Grayson, or Cassandra Cain. This is a mafia goon, one with superb skill, admittedly, but not the kind she's used to dealing with. So, she brings the fight to an end with a theatrical series of spinning strikes, eventually knocking him out cold.
Announcer: And the victor, Lillian Wilson! Let's give her a round of applause, folks, because that was impressive!
The crowd responds in kind, clapping to her victory. There is of course no cheering, or other vocal congratulations. These are important, dignified people, as far as the criminal underworld goes, not a bunch of wild drunks at a UFC fight. With her first fight completed, she returns to the locker room to await her next opponent.
As she does, a single thought goes through her head.
I could get used to this.
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Chapter #9 Preview: After tearing through the upper level brackets in The Orchid Lounge Fight Club, things seem to be going well for Rose. When she discovers a darker secret about the place, however, things get complicated. What's worse than a bunch of criminal overlords betting on highly trained fighters beating the crap out of each other? Find out in the next chapter!
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