Real Name: Serina Morasanu-Levesque
Other Nicknames: The Master Technician
Age: 36
Hair Color: Blonde (Dyes it white)
Eye Color: Blue (Usually dyes them red)
Height: 6'1
Weight: 185
Alignment: Tweener
Nationality: Canadian (Is of French and Italian descent, to be precise)
Born In: Quebec, Canada
Hometown: Transylvania, Romania
Entrance Music:
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Standard
High Profile Match
Hentai Match (Against Men)
Hentai Match (Against Women)
Ring Attire
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Sans the heels.
Lingerie
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Gym Attire
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Fancy Wear
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Serina carries herself with a dignified, regal air. Sociable, yet distant from those who she doesn't know well, with a confidence that could be taken for arrogance, and not always without merit. But what else could you expect from a woman with her accomplishments? But she's made an effort to be more personable in comparison to her younger days.
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Part 1 (WARNING: Contains details of child abuse)
Serina Morasanu-Levesque -- formerly Serina Levesque II -- is a second generation wrestler through her mother, a feminist wrestling icon who did much to elevate women's wrestling throughout her years competing in various leagues around the world, including founding a women's wrestling promotion of her own after her retirement from the ring: Premier Women's Wrestling. An apt name, as it would go on to be one of the top names among wrestling companies today, beaten out only by a few others, including LAW.
To other little girls who love wrestling, having Serina Sr. for a mother sounds like a dream. But for Serina II, it was a nightmare. The woman was an emotionally distant and unrelenting perfectionist who expected nothing but exactly that from her daughter: Perfection. In academics, in social events, and especially in wrestling, for which she began training at the age of ten. Any less -- one mark short of an A, one misspoken word, one botched move too many -- and being shouted down would be the least of her worries once they were away from the public eye. Serina Sr. had excelled when she was her age, and she would be damned if her daughter would dare bear her name and come up short. If she needed to beat that into her, she would.
And she did.
Serina II had no out. No family members to speak out on her behalf and try to get her to ease up; her grandparents had disowned her mother when she became a wrestler against their wishes, and she was distant from other relatives. And with her overbearing demeanor, no man would stick around for any longer than six months. This included Serina II's father, who had been driven away before Serina Sr. realized that she was pregnant. By this point, however, she had a thoroughly sour view on men, which had been worsened by a stubborn refusal to acknowledge any wrongdoings on her part in her interactions with them, so she didn't bother trying to find him. As far as little Serina knew, her father was a deadbeat who'd abandoned them both (which she knows to not be the case today; the two are quite close).
And aside from herself, she would have no good outlets for her mounting anger. Her devotion to her studies and wrestling left her with little time to make friends at school, and none at all to keep them. And Serina would not endear herself to her fellow trainees: In time, she began to despise wrestling. But she couldn't quit. She wouldn't be allowed to quit. And so, she would take it out on them. She wouldn't go overboard and try to hurt them -- not too badly -- but she would still be damn stiff. Fortunately for her, her mother treated them -- and her especially -- just as roughly, so it would be seen as her finally catching on.
And catch on she did. Despite her feelings towards the sport, she would turn out to be pretty good at it. In fact, when she made her debut in the PWW after turning eighteen, she would excel. Just as her mother did. But unlike her mother, she would see little advancement. No further than the mid-card, being kept out of the title picture. Her pay would never be more than that of a rookie's. In fact, she made less. And she would never step foot inside a locker room, being made to change her clothes in public restrooms and broom closets.
Like hell was Serina Sr. going to let their relationship be viewed in the same light as Vince McMahon and his unfortunately surnamed son-in-law (to whom they have no relation).
After four years of this, Serina II had finally had enough. She followed a tip she'd overheard from a green talent. A woman who worked hard, but just wasn't getting it done in the ring. In Atlantic City, New Jersey was a sexfighting league called the Erotic Combat Club. Originally a private competition, it would come to be popular enough to first gain its own website, and later a spot on late night television.
It didn't pay as much as one could expect in PWW, but it would still be more than what she got working under her mother. And that was just walking in through the door. Richie Zednik, her new boss, had an interesting attitude towards his employment practices: He was a big wrestling fan and was excited to sign the daughter of such a legend, but would ultimately treat her like anyone else who was just getting their start there. Same pay, same starting position at the bottom to work her way up from. Not having to make do with a nasty, stinking bathroom or having to nearly contort her body in order to change into and out of her gear was already a massive improvement.
The only downside was the limited physicality: Competitors weren't allowed to strike each other, and certain moves that she was accustomed to performing were banned too: Kneebars, deep, inverted Boston Crabs that bent her opponents in half. The rougher stuff you'd feel for weeks afterwards. But that was fine. All that meant was that she'd have to get creative. A small price to pay for regular sex, she thought; being the boss's daughter had made it impossible to get any without it feeling like duress or politicking.
And get creative, Serina would. And as expected, her mother would be quick to learn of her change in career path. Right after her first match, in fact.
She was furious. In her eyes, her daughter's participation in the sport was no different from her spitting in her hand and slapping her across the face with it. To her, sexfighting was a step entire decades into the past not only for female wrestlers but for women in general.
Needless to say, that was the last day she acknowledged their relation. And ironically, that would be when Serina II would start showing some pride in her namesake without it being mere lip service. It would still be performative, but it would be a show of pride that she would feel good about. It would be the middle finger that she'd been wanting to give her mother for the longest time.
Her newfound sense of rebellion would be misconstrued (intentionally in some cases) by her fellow competitors, a few of whom had also trained under her mother. Rumors would spread, saddling her with the reputation of a spoiled brat who left her mother's company because she lacked the skill to make it there, even with the help of nepotism.
That would spark her practice of wrestling her opponents ragged before delving too deeply into the sexuality of the contest. A simple task for her at this time in the sport; just before better trained and more serious fighters stepped through the door. As the roster's hostility festered, she would develop a penchant for ruined orgasms and being more reserved and mechanical with her sexuality: Sticking to outercourse against men (outside of pegging them), scoring orgasms almost entirely with her hands and feet, restricting oral to making opponents please her post-match, etc. She would get them there, but took no care to make it particularly pleasurable.
These practices would turn the fans against her as well. Serena hadn't intended to earn their ire, but she refused to get any spicier with her enemies, so she resigned herself to the villainous role that had been thrust upon her. It would turn out to be pretty good for business, as more and more people would come by/tune in to see if the next opponent would be the one to finally take her down a few notches.
It felt good to crush their hopes, but as time progressed, the hate would start getting under her skin and implanting thoughts of leaving the ECC. The only reason she hadn't was its owner. Richie (as he preferred over "Mr. Zednik) had never been anything less than fair and kind to her. She could tell that he wasn't a fan of the lengths she went to in her sexual spite, but he never held it against her outwardly. He encouraged her to continue on. Keep proving the naysayers wrong.
She spent five years doing exactly that. Five years of domination, going undefeated all the while. Things would get both better and worse at the end of the first, where she would win the belt in the first biannual championship tournament and defend it in the second. The others backstage were catching on to the fact that she wasn't to be trifled with, but there were always newcomers who didn't know better. The fans, however...
Their disrespect was neverending, and at that point, she had grown sick of it. After Richie had introduced a waiver for legal protection following an incident where a man attempted to challenge her, Serina would start inviting them to the ring. Sometimes after a match, sometimes before. Normally one, but she'd occasionally stack the deck against herself with two or even three. Those who stepped up to her would usually leave humiliated, but every once in a blue moon, there would come a rare fan whom she would take it easy on.
The most notable came along in her final months in the ECC.
There was a cocky upstart who claimed that her time as champion would be coming to an end at his hands. Eric Enriquez -- or Eric Eros, as he was now going by -- was good. A professional wrestler who was doing well for himself before a neck injury rendered him unable to safely compete in that rougher squared circle. He steamrolled through the roster much like she had, but unlike her, he had the backing of the people.
Eight minutes, fifty-seven seconds. Eric had picked up a win and followed it up with another against an audience member, challenging Serina to do better. And at first, she was. Four minutes and three seconds, just slightly faster than his first victory. Afterwards, she extended her challenge to anyone in the back as well. She would've been fine either way, but was hoping for the latter. She had a statement to make, and a legit competitor would make it all the more emphatic.
None of them came forward. And for a few moments, no one else did either.
And then finally, she rose from her seat to go and muck that up. Alix Jacques.
Serina knew who she was, being a fan of hers after happening upon some of her D/s theme content. "Captivity and Rapture" in particular. The idea of playing with a switch was a fun one. It was just too bad that she was on the clock. And the happy-go-lucky air she gave off on the way to the ring was insulting.
Serina would be unable to hold that against her for long after her personality showed through. Alix was respectful from the start, even referring to her as "Lady Levesque". She liked that.
Taking control of Alix was like partaking in the Little Wee Bear's possessions: She didn't even try hiding her excitement at being put down to the mat and maneuvered into the positions that Serina needed her in. And as expected, her efforts were quite pitiful. Just a step beyond a bratty submissive. But enough of a fight had been raised to convince the champion that they were honest. That she wasn't one of those fools who stepped between those ropes expecting easy sex.
At first, Serina had every intention of making it quick. Alix would be handled with kid gloves, but she still had a time to beat. But Alix was a talker. An annoyance normally, but she made a lot of sense. Serina was the champ, so why did she need to rise to Eric's challenge? Why not turn it around and make that challenge her own: Take her time showing him how to best please a woman instead of rushing through it, and see how capable he is of living up to the name of Eros?
Alix saying that in the first place told Serina that she wasn't at all familiar with the goings-on there. It was that lack of awareness that had her considering her line of thought. Seeing her moment, Alix stole a nice, long kiss, and it was on.
She was intoxicating. A deep, white hot well of sexuality. A woman who made an art of it. Serina got lost in her. She didn't notice the approving roars of the crowd. Didn't notice when Richie came down to get a front row view of the hottest match that the ECC had ever seen. Didn't stop after the porn star had that first volcanic orgasm underneath her, when the timekeeper rang the bell seconds later, or even after her own. Not until number three.
Serina wasn't surprised to hear that Alix had been offered a job. If the thought hadn't occurred to Richie, she would've put it in his head herself. She was too prideful to admit that at the time, however, even in private. In her mind, she'd already given up enough in allowing herself to be convinced to do away with the "fight" portion of that sexfight. Too much more, and people would start thinking she'd gone soft. And that, she could not allow.
Alix would join the rather short list of people in the ECC who knew her as something more than a cold, dominant, seeming misanthrope with mommy issues. Amongst the competitors, there was only one other name in her company: Phoebe Knox, a misguided mixed martial artist who'd joined in the search for more combat than Richie's league offered.
She had some real moxie in her. It made her fun to watch, mainly when it was one of her customary handicap matches. Sparring was even better. Phoebe was like her: One of the few real combatants in a sea of play fighters.
It was sad to see her go. And only after a few months, too. But Serina understood why. She had the same reasoning for leaving after this final title defense: There wasn't enough challenge. The spite that tethered her to the ECC for so long had finally slackened. She'd done everything she wanted to there and more. Everyone else had gotten the message. She just had to take care of the one who ignored the warnings.
She was sure that Eric would hold the title for as long as she did after it was relinquished. Maybe even longer. Aside from Phoebe, no one had ever pushed her so hard in a contest of grappling. And sexually? Since their contest was going to be Serina's last, Richie wanted to go big. There wouldn't be a winner until someone gave a vocal submission.
And Eric was one determined bastard. She had to put her all into it just to barely make him surrender before she could. It was the one victory in all her years that would never sit right with her.
To other little girls who love wrestling, having Serina Sr. for a mother sounds like a dream. But for Serina II, it was a nightmare. The woman was an emotionally distant and unrelenting perfectionist who expected nothing but exactly that from her daughter: Perfection. In academics, in social events, and especially in wrestling, for which she began training at the age of ten. Any less -- one mark short of an A, one misspoken word, one botched move too many -- and being shouted down would be the least of her worries once they were away from the public eye. Serina Sr. had excelled when she was her age, and she would be damned if her daughter would dare bear her name and come up short. If she needed to beat that into her, she would.
And she did.
Serina II had no out. No family members to speak out on her behalf and try to get her to ease up; her grandparents had disowned her mother when she became a wrestler against their wishes, and she was distant from other relatives. And with her overbearing demeanor, no man would stick around for any longer than six months. This included Serina II's father, who had been driven away before Serina Sr. realized that she was pregnant. By this point, however, she had a thoroughly sour view on men, which had been worsened by a stubborn refusal to acknowledge any wrongdoings on her part in her interactions with them, so she didn't bother trying to find him. As far as little Serina knew, her father was a deadbeat who'd abandoned them both (which she knows to not be the case today; the two are quite close).
And aside from herself, she would have no good outlets for her mounting anger. Her devotion to her studies and wrestling left her with little time to make friends at school, and none at all to keep them. And Serina would not endear herself to her fellow trainees: In time, she began to despise wrestling. But she couldn't quit. She wouldn't be allowed to quit. And so, she would take it out on them. She wouldn't go overboard and try to hurt them -- not too badly -- but she would still be damn stiff. Fortunately for her, her mother treated them -- and her especially -- just as roughly, so it would be seen as her finally catching on.
And catch on she did. Despite her feelings towards the sport, she would turn out to be pretty good at it. In fact, when she made her debut in the PWW after turning eighteen, she would excel. Just as her mother did. But unlike her mother, she would see little advancement. No further than the mid-card, being kept out of the title picture. Her pay would never be more than that of a rookie's. In fact, she made less. And she would never step foot inside a locker room, being made to change her clothes in public restrooms and broom closets.
Like hell was Serina Sr. going to let their relationship be viewed in the same light as Vince McMahon and his unfortunately surnamed son-in-law (to whom they have no relation).
After four years of this, Serina II had finally had enough. She followed a tip she'd overheard from a green talent. A woman who worked hard, but just wasn't getting it done in the ring. In Atlantic City, New Jersey was a sexfighting league called the Erotic Combat Club. Originally a private competition, it would come to be popular enough to first gain its own website, and later a spot on late night television.
It didn't pay as much as one could expect in PWW, but it would still be more than what she got working under her mother. And that was just walking in through the door. Richie Zednik, her new boss, had an interesting attitude towards his employment practices: He was a big wrestling fan and was excited to sign the daughter of such a legend, but would ultimately treat her like anyone else who was just getting their start there. Same pay, same starting position at the bottom to work her way up from. Not having to make do with a nasty, stinking bathroom or having to nearly contort her body in order to change into and out of her gear was already a massive improvement.
The only downside was the limited physicality: Competitors weren't allowed to strike each other, and certain moves that she was accustomed to performing were banned too: Kneebars, deep, inverted Boston Crabs that bent her opponents in half. The rougher stuff you'd feel for weeks afterwards. But that was fine. All that meant was that she'd have to get creative. A small price to pay for regular sex, she thought; being the boss's daughter had made it impossible to get any without it feeling like duress or politicking.
And get creative, Serina would. And as expected, her mother would be quick to learn of her change in career path. Right after her first match, in fact.
She was furious. In her eyes, her daughter's participation in the sport was no different from her spitting in her hand and slapping her across the face with it. To her, sexfighting was a step entire decades into the past not only for female wrestlers but for women in general.
Needless to say, that was the last day she acknowledged their relation. And ironically, that would be when Serina II would start showing some pride in her namesake without it being mere lip service. It would still be performative, but it would be a show of pride that she would feel good about. It would be the middle finger that she'd been wanting to give her mother for the longest time.
Her newfound sense of rebellion would be misconstrued (intentionally in some cases) by her fellow competitors, a few of whom had also trained under her mother. Rumors would spread, saddling her with the reputation of a spoiled brat who left her mother's company because she lacked the skill to make it there, even with the help of nepotism.
That would spark her practice of wrestling her opponents ragged before delving too deeply into the sexuality of the contest. A simple task for her at this time in the sport; just before better trained and more serious fighters stepped through the door. As the roster's hostility festered, she would develop a penchant for ruined orgasms and being more reserved and mechanical with her sexuality: Sticking to outercourse against men (outside of pegging them), scoring orgasms almost entirely with her hands and feet, restricting oral to making opponents please her post-match, etc. She would get them there, but took no care to make it particularly pleasurable.
These practices would turn the fans against her as well. Serena hadn't intended to earn their ire, but she refused to get any spicier with her enemies, so she resigned herself to the villainous role that had been thrust upon her. It would turn out to be pretty good for business, as more and more people would come by/tune in to see if the next opponent would be the one to finally take her down a few notches.
It felt good to crush their hopes, but as time progressed, the hate would start getting under her skin and implanting thoughts of leaving the ECC. The only reason she hadn't was its owner. Richie (as he preferred over "Mr. Zednik) had never been anything less than fair and kind to her. She could tell that he wasn't a fan of the lengths she went to in her sexual spite, but he never held it against her outwardly. He encouraged her to continue on. Keep proving the naysayers wrong.
She spent five years doing exactly that. Five years of domination, going undefeated all the while. Things would get both better and worse at the end of the first, where she would win the belt in the first biannual championship tournament and defend it in the second. The others backstage were catching on to the fact that she wasn't to be trifled with, but there were always newcomers who didn't know better. The fans, however...
Their disrespect was neverending, and at that point, she had grown sick of it. After Richie had introduced a waiver for legal protection following an incident where a man attempted to challenge her, Serina would start inviting them to the ring. Sometimes after a match, sometimes before. Normally one, but she'd occasionally stack the deck against herself with two or even three. Those who stepped up to her would usually leave humiliated, but every once in a blue moon, there would come a rare fan whom she would take it easy on.
The most notable came along in her final months in the ECC.
There was a cocky upstart who claimed that her time as champion would be coming to an end at his hands. Eric Enriquez -- or Eric Eros, as he was now going by -- was good. A professional wrestler who was doing well for himself before a neck injury rendered him unable to safely compete in that rougher squared circle. He steamrolled through the roster much like she had, but unlike her, he had the backing of the people.
Eight minutes, fifty-seven seconds. Eric had picked up a win and followed it up with another against an audience member, challenging Serina to do better. And at first, she was. Four minutes and three seconds, just slightly faster than his first victory. Afterwards, she extended her challenge to anyone in the back as well. She would've been fine either way, but was hoping for the latter. She had a statement to make, and a legit competitor would make it all the more emphatic.
None of them came forward. And for a few moments, no one else did either.
And then finally, she rose from her seat to go and muck that up. Alix Jacques.
Serina knew who she was, being a fan of hers after happening upon some of her D/s theme content. "Captivity and Rapture" in particular. The idea of playing with a switch was a fun one. It was just too bad that she was on the clock. And the happy-go-lucky air she gave off on the way to the ring was insulting.
Serina would be unable to hold that against her for long after her personality showed through. Alix was respectful from the start, even referring to her as "Lady Levesque". She liked that.
Taking control of Alix was like partaking in the Little Wee Bear's possessions: She didn't even try hiding her excitement at being put down to the mat and maneuvered into the positions that Serina needed her in. And as expected, her efforts were quite pitiful. Just a step beyond a bratty submissive. But enough of a fight had been raised to convince the champion that they were honest. That she wasn't one of those fools who stepped between those ropes expecting easy sex.
At first, Serina had every intention of making it quick. Alix would be handled with kid gloves, but she still had a time to beat. But Alix was a talker. An annoyance normally, but she made a lot of sense. Serina was the champ, so why did she need to rise to Eric's challenge? Why not turn it around and make that challenge her own: Take her time showing him how to best please a woman instead of rushing through it, and see how capable he is of living up to the name of Eros?
Alix saying that in the first place told Serina that she wasn't at all familiar with the goings-on there. It was that lack of awareness that had her considering her line of thought. Seeing her moment, Alix stole a nice, long kiss, and it was on.
She was intoxicating. A deep, white hot well of sexuality. A woman who made an art of it. Serina got lost in her. She didn't notice the approving roars of the crowd. Didn't notice when Richie came down to get a front row view of the hottest match that the ECC had ever seen. Didn't stop after the porn star had that first volcanic orgasm underneath her, when the timekeeper rang the bell seconds later, or even after her own. Not until number three.
Serina wasn't surprised to hear that Alix had been offered a job. If the thought hadn't occurred to Richie, she would've put it in his head herself. She was too prideful to admit that at the time, however, even in private. In her mind, she'd already given up enough in allowing herself to be convinced to do away with the "fight" portion of that sexfight. Too much more, and people would start thinking she'd gone soft. And that, she could not allow.
Alix would join the rather short list of people in the ECC who knew her as something more than a cold, dominant, seeming misanthrope with mommy issues. Amongst the competitors, there was only one other name in her company: Phoebe Knox, a misguided mixed martial artist who'd joined in the search for more combat than Richie's league offered.
She had some real moxie in her. It made her fun to watch, mainly when it was one of her customary handicap matches. Sparring was even better. Phoebe was like her: One of the few real combatants in a sea of play fighters.
It was sad to see her go. And only after a few months, too. But Serina understood why. She had the same reasoning for leaving after this final title defense: There wasn't enough challenge. The spite that tethered her to the ECC for so long had finally slackened. She'd done everything she wanted to there and more. Everyone else had gotten the message. She just had to take care of the one who ignored the warnings.
She was sure that Eric would hold the title for as long as she did after it was relinquished. Maybe even longer. Aside from Phoebe, no one had ever pushed her so hard in a contest of grappling. And sexually? Since their contest was going to be Serina's last, Richie wanted to go big. There wouldn't be a winner until someone gave a vocal submission.
And Eric was one determined bastard. She had to put her all into it just to barely make him surrender before she could. It was the one victory in all her years that would never sit right with her.
Part 2
Regardless, she would continue on to work the indies. ACW was her original target, but that bridge had been burned through a mutual rejection. The owner wanted to hire her for "entertainment" that had nothing to do with a ring. She told him to go to Hell. Things were improving, but such attitudes were still prevalent, and they would form the backbone of the adversity she faced as she went from company to company, proving in each one that a "glorified pornstar", as one of her many rivals would call her, could not only survive, but thrive, fighting her way to the gold every single time. Her success would lead her around the world as bigger companies across it took notice.
England. England was a lot of fun. Technical artisans aplenty; she learned a lot.
Mexico. A true test of her pacing and reflexes.
Japan. Now that was a journey. No other place was as punishing.
Through major companies in those three countries, she would also have the opportunity to wrestle in other countries, honing her craft against differing styles. Germany, India, Italy...
Romania. That's where she'd first lock eyes with the love of her life. Eveline Morasanu was on the other side of the ringside barricade at the time. A fellow gothic beauty that caught her eye when she was about to enter the ring, and again when she left it to limp her way backstage.
There was something about her that she just couldn't put her finger on. Powerful animal magnetism that made her stop in spite of her aching body's calling for a hot shower. Pulled at her when she eventually broke eye contact and kept walking. Made her wonder: Just who. Is. That. Girl?
She would have a second chance to find out the very next day, at a meet and greet for the fans who bought the VIP package. Eveline and her sister Emilia were among them. Emilia was a dear. The then teenager had been watching her since she'd discovered her in the indies, admiring how she stood firm in the face of everything that had been thrown at her, "sticking it to the normies", as she put it. A common theme amongst the more alternative fans.
But Eveline. She had this sense of mystery about her. Serina didn't like mysteries unless she was the one playing that game, but damn it, it worked. Eveline spoke to her as one would someone of the same stature. Not a star that she'd paid thousands to see, nor a peer. Not in a sense that she was being familiar. Just that she was talking to a regular person. A regular person that she happened to take an interest in. It was...refreshing, with every minute of the few that she was allotted to spend with them bearing on her as they passed far too quickly.
Fortunately, Eveline would be hosting "a little gathering". An interesting choice of words. Not a party; that would've turned her off entirely. Felt like a trap, something designed to get her to do something stupid so the tabloids could go nuts. Not a get-together; that would've seemed too private. Like a function that had no place for her. She didn't say it, but she'd suspected that Eveline had worked out the terminology in her head and threw that word out with the precise intention of using it as a hook. She had. And it worked.
Bran Castle. She had a hard time believing it even after she'd been invited inside and had it confirmed by the host herself.
Her father owned Dracula's castle. He hadn't rented it for the evening. No, it was his to do with as he pleased.
The question was deafening as it was being screamed out in her head: Just who. Is. This. Girl?!?
Eveline's conduct came as a pleasant surprise after it was revealed that she was turning twenty-one. She was in charge on account of her father being away on important business, yet she didn't have the place packed with people who really only would've been there to party on her dime. It wasn't booming with the crap that somehow passed as "music" to people her age, with bottles popping and drugs flowing. There was plenty of fine wine, yes, but Eveline paced herself well. She was tempted, but wouldn't overindulge.
And it really was a small gathering. Just her, Emilia, and a few friends, among whom was one Phoebe Knox (who happened to have mentioned going to a "friend of a friend's birthday party" -- small world), along with the other women who would later join her to form The Coterie: Elina Reinhardt and Jaclyn Nagano. There were servants who tended to their needs along with those of the castle, but with that aside, it was just the six of them celebrating her birthday. Nothing too high-key, which she'd come to prefer more than she already had as she settled into her thirties.
The wine, good food -- some of the best she's ever eaten, a movie, and a nice session of Vampire: The Masquerade. A game that she was interested in, but never had the people needed to play it properly; she had her acquaintances and miscellaneous contacts, but not many that she could call a friend. Alix had settled down by this time, however, and her wife was a jealous woman. Keeping in touch was already difficult when she was traveling all around the world, but that...
And Phoebe was busy in the BFC.
Eveline could sense the loneliness in her. Serina thought she was being subtle with her glances with her sitting right next to her, helping her learn the game. She wasn't, not enough to escape her notice. That their characters -- Serina's Ventrue and Eveline's Tremere (a funny choice for someone as Toreador-esque as she is) -- had some tension between them as well only made things worse. Serina couldn't help it; the way things played out, and the way Eveline played made it all too sensible for her character.
At the session's end, Serina expressed that she was ready for bed. In reality, she just wanted some time alone to think things over. Eveline wouldn't allow it. She was on a mission. After showing her to her room like a proper host, she invited her to another room. Not her own. Not yet. A room that had a sound system installed.
Just a few minutes, as Eveline almost imploringly insisted when Serina said that she was tired after a long day prior. A show of vulnerability that made her unable to deny her.
One minute and twelve seconds. Eveline wanted to enact what would be the next scene between their characters: A slow dance without another soul present besides the two of them. Just them and the tune of Paralysed Age.
"Like the first snow in winter, melting on the coat. Like the first glass of whiskey, burning in the throat."
Unforgettable.
"Like you."
That did it. The up close, extensive eye contact; it was amazing how she could say so much without a single word. She was already winning her over, but that song, the last two words specifically...
Serina never made it to her room that night. They barely made it to Eveline's.
They spent the next few days getting to know each other, eventually having a conversation about where this would go, or indeed, if it would really go anywhere at all. Neither woman wanted this to be a mere fling, but as Serina pointed out, the travel would be constant and demanding, especially as a champion.
Eveline was a wealthy woman, sure, but it could be very trying nonetheless. But she wanted to try, and so they did.
It would mostly be Eveline following along to catch her shows, but Serina would take flights back to Romania as well, especially when her father caught on to their budding romance after seeing her in the crowd on TV one time too many, sharing glances that lasted just a little bit too long. At this point -- months in -- she couldn't deny it. And so he demanded to meet her.
Never in her adult life had Serina felt as nervous, awkward, and intimidated as when she met Dragoslav Morasanu. Mr. Morasanu to her, of course. He had an imposing presence: Six foot eight, two hundred and fifty pounds of muscle, and a cold, hard stare to compose his resting expression. One that shook the soul when he was actually displeased.
He was also a smart dresser who also had a liking for a darker aesthetic. Looked damn good for what was forty years old at the time, with a long, wavy mane that had yet to start going grey and a deep voice that came perfectly together with everything else to scream "vampire".
He had a "dark and brooding vampire" kind of aura about him, and it made him popular with those it didn't scare away. Phoebe especially.
Serina definitely understood the appeal. It was another reason for her to squirm while she sat in the hot seat.
Mr. Morasanu had done his homework. He knew everything about her career, all the way down to when she was still in training. It wasn't too surprising -- she had been forthcoming in interviews about her experiences training under her mother and the struggles that had arisen from it -- but it was still unnerving. The way he looked at her made her feel like he already knew all about her deepest, darkest secrets. Like all that was left to do was talk about it.
They spent about two hours doing just that. Talking about everything she'd done thus far, but the focus wasn't on her actions. That went to the feelings and motivations behind them. He worked her like an expert, walking that fine line between interrogation and playing psychiatrist. Making it clear that every word that came out of her mouth was being weighed, yet softening up just enough to make her feel comfortable sharing more. Giving away some things about himself in the process, like how he'd taken up sexfighting himself. Only he was a few years younger than her when he started, that it was a private affair (much like how his daughter happened to do things, unbeknownst to him) with fewer precautions taken, which was how Eveline came to be. How he was made something of a black sheep within his own family. Dysfunction that didn't run as deep as that of her and her mother's, but deep enough for that mutual understanding to be formed.
The man had even managed to get her to divulge her plans for the future: Winning the top championship in every major wrestling promotion that the world has to offer. All except for ACW, and much more importantly, Premier Women's Wrestling: She wanted her mother to watch -- and she knew that she was watching -- as she became the biggest missed opportunity she ever had. And then she'd retire and maybe open up a gym or maybe even her own promotion. Really stick the blade in and leave her no choice but to acknowledge her spurned offspring as her superior, even if it's only to herself.
Admitting that spite had been such a powerful motivator in her life was very much akin to grabbing a set of pliers and yanking her teeth out mentally. It was embarrassing. She knew how petty -- and honestly, childish -- that was. Yet oddly, Serina felt robbed after she'd gotten it out. Before that conversation happened, she wasn't sure if she'd ever have it with anyone. But after letting out those emotions she'd been keeping to herself for all those years, she was feeling guilty for not having shared that with Eveline, who had asked her what her endgame was.
Mr. Morasanu promptly did the typical man thing, stating the obvious solution and, to paraphrase the lyrics of a choreographed wrestler's old theme song, missing the point like a broken needle. But he didn't look down on her for it. And he was right. Eveline liked to play the mysterious girl every so often, but she didn't keep any secrets that mattered.
At that point in time, that is.
In the end, Serina made it out of the grill. But not without a word of warning: His girls were the greatest things in his life. Any harm done, and there would be nowhere on the planet that the fool responsible would be able to hide.
He wasn't happy when Eveline made the decision to follow her into wrestling.
England. England was a lot of fun. Technical artisans aplenty; she learned a lot.
Mexico. A true test of her pacing and reflexes.
Japan. Now that was a journey. No other place was as punishing.
Through major companies in those three countries, she would also have the opportunity to wrestle in other countries, honing her craft against differing styles. Germany, India, Italy...
Romania. That's where she'd first lock eyes with the love of her life. Eveline Morasanu was on the other side of the ringside barricade at the time. A fellow gothic beauty that caught her eye when she was about to enter the ring, and again when she left it to limp her way backstage.
There was something about her that she just couldn't put her finger on. Powerful animal magnetism that made her stop in spite of her aching body's calling for a hot shower. Pulled at her when she eventually broke eye contact and kept walking. Made her wonder: Just who. Is. That. Girl?
She would have a second chance to find out the very next day, at a meet and greet for the fans who bought the VIP package. Eveline and her sister Emilia were among them. Emilia was a dear. The then teenager had been watching her since she'd discovered her in the indies, admiring how she stood firm in the face of everything that had been thrown at her, "sticking it to the normies", as she put it. A common theme amongst the more alternative fans.
But Eveline. She had this sense of mystery about her. Serina didn't like mysteries unless she was the one playing that game, but damn it, it worked. Eveline spoke to her as one would someone of the same stature. Not a star that she'd paid thousands to see, nor a peer. Not in a sense that she was being familiar. Just that she was talking to a regular person. A regular person that she happened to take an interest in. It was...refreshing, with every minute of the few that she was allotted to spend with them bearing on her as they passed far too quickly.
Fortunately, Eveline would be hosting "a little gathering". An interesting choice of words. Not a party; that would've turned her off entirely. Felt like a trap, something designed to get her to do something stupid so the tabloids could go nuts. Not a get-together; that would've seemed too private. Like a function that had no place for her. She didn't say it, but she'd suspected that Eveline had worked out the terminology in her head and threw that word out with the precise intention of using it as a hook. She had. And it worked.
Bran Castle. She had a hard time believing it even after she'd been invited inside and had it confirmed by the host herself.
Her father owned Dracula's castle. He hadn't rented it for the evening. No, it was his to do with as he pleased.
The question was deafening as it was being screamed out in her head: Just who. Is. This. Girl?!?
Eveline's conduct came as a pleasant surprise after it was revealed that she was turning twenty-one. She was in charge on account of her father being away on important business, yet she didn't have the place packed with people who really only would've been there to party on her dime. It wasn't booming with the crap that somehow passed as "music" to people her age, with bottles popping and drugs flowing. There was plenty of fine wine, yes, but Eveline paced herself well. She was tempted, but wouldn't overindulge.
And it really was a small gathering. Just her, Emilia, and a few friends, among whom was one Phoebe Knox (who happened to have mentioned going to a "friend of a friend's birthday party" -- small world), along with the other women who would later join her to form The Coterie: Elina Reinhardt and Jaclyn Nagano. There were servants who tended to their needs along with those of the castle, but with that aside, it was just the six of them celebrating her birthday. Nothing too high-key, which she'd come to prefer more than she already had as she settled into her thirties.
The wine, good food -- some of the best she's ever eaten, a movie, and a nice session of Vampire: The Masquerade. A game that she was interested in, but never had the people needed to play it properly; she had her acquaintances and miscellaneous contacts, but not many that she could call a friend. Alix had settled down by this time, however, and her wife was a jealous woman. Keeping in touch was already difficult when she was traveling all around the world, but that...
And Phoebe was busy in the BFC.
Eveline could sense the loneliness in her. Serina thought she was being subtle with her glances with her sitting right next to her, helping her learn the game. She wasn't, not enough to escape her notice. That their characters -- Serina's Ventrue and Eveline's Tremere (a funny choice for someone as Toreador-esque as she is) -- had some tension between them as well only made things worse. Serina couldn't help it; the way things played out, and the way Eveline played made it all too sensible for her character.
At the session's end, Serina expressed that she was ready for bed. In reality, she just wanted some time alone to think things over. Eveline wouldn't allow it. She was on a mission. After showing her to her room like a proper host, she invited her to another room. Not her own. Not yet. A room that had a sound system installed.
Just a few minutes, as Eveline almost imploringly insisted when Serina said that she was tired after a long day prior. A show of vulnerability that made her unable to deny her.
One minute and twelve seconds. Eveline wanted to enact what would be the next scene between their characters: A slow dance without another soul present besides the two of them. Just them and the tune of Paralysed Age.
"Like the first snow in winter, melting on the coat. Like the first glass of whiskey, burning in the throat."
Unforgettable.
"Like you."
That did it. The up close, extensive eye contact; it was amazing how she could say so much without a single word. She was already winning her over, but that song, the last two words specifically...
Serina never made it to her room that night. They barely made it to Eveline's.
They spent the next few days getting to know each other, eventually having a conversation about where this would go, or indeed, if it would really go anywhere at all. Neither woman wanted this to be a mere fling, but as Serina pointed out, the travel would be constant and demanding, especially as a champion.
Eveline was a wealthy woman, sure, but it could be very trying nonetheless. But she wanted to try, and so they did.
It would mostly be Eveline following along to catch her shows, but Serina would take flights back to Romania as well, especially when her father caught on to their budding romance after seeing her in the crowd on TV one time too many, sharing glances that lasted just a little bit too long. At this point -- months in -- she couldn't deny it. And so he demanded to meet her.
Never in her adult life had Serina felt as nervous, awkward, and intimidated as when she met Dragoslav Morasanu. Mr. Morasanu to her, of course. He had an imposing presence: Six foot eight, two hundred and fifty pounds of muscle, and a cold, hard stare to compose his resting expression. One that shook the soul when he was actually displeased.
He was also a smart dresser who also had a liking for a darker aesthetic. Looked damn good for what was forty years old at the time, with a long, wavy mane that had yet to start going grey and a deep voice that came perfectly together with everything else to scream "vampire".
He had a "dark and brooding vampire" kind of aura about him, and it made him popular with those it didn't scare away. Phoebe especially.
Dragoslav Morasanu
Mr. Morasanu had done his homework. He knew everything about her career, all the way down to when she was still in training. It wasn't too surprising -- she had been forthcoming in interviews about her experiences training under her mother and the struggles that had arisen from it -- but it was still unnerving. The way he looked at her made her feel like he already knew all about her deepest, darkest secrets. Like all that was left to do was talk about it.
They spent about two hours doing just that. Talking about everything she'd done thus far, but the focus wasn't on her actions. That went to the feelings and motivations behind them. He worked her like an expert, walking that fine line between interrogation and playing psychiatrist. Making it clear that every word that came out of her mouth was being weighed, yet softening up just enough to make her feel comfortable sharing more. Giving away some things about himself in the process, like how he'd taken up sexfighting himself. Only he was a few years younger than her when he started, that it was a private affair (much like how his daughter happened to do things, unbeknownst to him) with fewer precautions taken, which was how Eveline came to be. How he was made something of a black sheep within his own family. Dysfunction that didn't run as deep as that of her and her mother's, but deep enough for that mutual understanding to be formed.
The man had even managed to get her to divulge her plans for the future: Winning the top championship in every major wrestling promotion that the world has to offer. All except for ACW, and much more importantly, Premier Women's Wrestling: She wanted her mother to watch -- and she knew that she was watching -- as she became the biggest missed opportunity she ever had. And then she'd retire and maybe open up a gym or maybe even her own promotion. Really stick the blade in and leave her no choice but to acknowledge her spurned offspring as her superior, even if it's only to herself.
Admitting that spite had been such a powerful motivator in her life was very much akin to grabbing a set of pliers and yanking her teeth out mentally. It was embarrassing. She knew how petty -- and honestly, childish -- that was. Yet oddly, Serina felt robbed after she'd gotten it out. Before that conversation happened, she wasn't sure if she'd ever have it with anyone. But after letting out those emotions she'd been keeping to herself for all those years, she was feeling guilty for not having shared that with Eveline, who had asked her what her endgame was.
Mr. Morasanu promptly did the typical man thing, stating the obvious solution and, to paraphrase the lyrics of a choreographed wrestler's old theme song, missing the point like a broken needle. But he didn't look down on her for it. And he was right. Eveline liked to play the mysterious girl every so often, but she didn't keep any secrets that mattered.
At that point in time, that is.
In the end, Serina made it out of the grill. But not without a word of warning: His girls were the greatest things in his life. Any harm done, and there would be nowhere on the planet that the fool responsible would be able to hide.
He wasn't happy when Eveline made the decision to follow her into wrestling.
Part 3
ACW would actually come calling with an offer. The owner had grown wise to her pattern of leaping from the top of one mountain to begin anew at the bottom of another. It was indeed that time, but Serina wasn't keen on signing a contract, jokingly telling him to double her salary before she considered it. He did just that, and threw in something else to sweeten the pot: She would be placed in the title scene from the very beginning via a match for the number one contender spot for the Heavyweight title.
That would be too sweet a deal to pass up. Winning the title in these circumstances would make her a marked woman. All of the others in the back would be itching for a chance to take her down, and why wouldn't they? The boss put her on Easy Street. Let her skip the line.
She looked forward to it up until Eveline revealed that she had gotten herself signed as well, under the name Lacramioara Albescu. It was a simple decision for her: She was already a devoted traveler, could handle herself if the need arose, as a demonstration with a burly man who had an issue with the word "no" during a night out proved, and this she wouldn't say, but she wanted a little more excitement in her life. And what better way to get it than through taking on the world of professional wrestling with her girlfriend, who appeared to be on the fast track to being one of the, if not the most hated women in the locker room?
It would be mainly in a managerial role, but Serina was still worried. On top of dealing her own problems, she would also have to make sure that Eveline didn't get hurt.
But she would do as she was asked in the conversation they had about that, and give Eveline the chance to prove that she could stand by her and make herself useful. Not that she had a choice: That signing was just further proof that like her, she wasn't a woman who could be stopped when she truly had her mind set on something.
The vampire gimmicks were a start. The idea had come up prior to Eveline's revelation, with Serina herself wanting to do something special for her debut, which would fall on Halloween day. Adding a vampiric touch to what was already a dark aesthetic was already in her head, but not as a permanent fixture as Eveline suggested. She'd sensed the opportunity to kill two birds with one stone: The first was figuring out a way to get Serina to loosen up some while she's at work. Somehow, some way, she wanted to give or get her to something in wrestling that was her own. Something that wasn't connected to the resentment that fueled her for all this time.
Maybe Melanie Birke, the character she created for their game would be the way to go. She put a lot of herself into the character, so bringing her back out into the real world, with some alterations, obviously, would be an easy process. And it would help get Eveline to that second bird: Easing her into the reveal.
Ironically, Ionia would not come to be until afterwards. After they've sat down and discussed exactly how they would go about things, and after a worried Mr. Morasanu had tried and failed to talk his daughter out of it, and subsequently pinned all responsibility on Serina. For Eveline's choice, and for anything that might happen to her.
Serina took it upon herself to supplement Eveline's martial training with her wrestling knowledge to be on the safe side. And to make sure she knew how tough it could get in the ring, she'd often wrestle her to the point of exhaustion. Expecting anger at some point, she would instead see perseverance. Eveline would endure, she would learn, and she would even ask for more. Although that was mostly her milking their sessions for all they were worth after seeing how Serina would make up for all the hardship, namely the full body massages and worship.
The dedication shown both in their private ring and in the gym would change Serina's mind about the situation, leading to the eased discussion of their gimmicks that Eveline was hoping for. Lacramioara would be the one who turned her and introduced her to a world that was just beneath the surface of the one that she and everyone else knew. But she had never paid attention to wrestling before, only ending up in the arena the night they first crossed paths by circumstance, leading to Ionia (Melanie Birke was not an option for a name) being largely in charge while Lacramiora would handle the day-to-day and other assorted tasks.
The rest would be figured out on the fly. It worked well enough in VtM.
One of those things would be the fangs. Recalling the buzz that Elina and Phoebe -- known competitively as Bloody Mary and and Lucinda Kane -- had generated in the BFC with the canine teeth that they had surgically shaped into sharp fangs, Eveline would undergo the procedure herself. As would everyone in their group, eventually. Serina herself was hesitant until she learned that it was an easily reversible process.
There was more to Lacramioara than she'd given her credit for. She really knew how to work people: Crowds, rivals, officials, referees who had been paid for or otherwise compromised by an aforementioned rival...It would sometimes bring Ionia trouble, but nothing that went too much further beyond what she'd already signed up for. And in the end, things would turn out well. The fans loved it, her enemies would be thrown off balance, and she knew how to perk her up as well. And with the extra time she had to devote to preparing herself for her matches, she would find herself operating at an even higher level of efficiency.
As for Lacramioara taking care of herself? ACW was a company that didn't partake in any sexfighting. In the few times she stepped in between the ropes for that standard fare, it would be made clear that her goal was to neutralize her foe (and it was a foe every time). Bring them down as swiftly, efficiently, and pragmatically as possible, rules be damned. All were losses for her officially by way of disqualification, but the war would be won. Everyone backstage would know that she was no easy target.
Especially when The Coterie was formed. A year after Ionia and Lacramioara were introduced to the ACW audience, Bloody Mary, Lucinda Kane, and Smiling Jaclyn would join them. The former two after the short-lived BattleFuck Championship had gone under following a police investigation uncovering the owner's part in a large-scaled drug operation, and the latter would be entirely new to competing in combat sports.
As she had with Eveline, Serina would take Elina and Jaclyn under her wing -- the cocky Phoebe insisted that she had no need for a teacher, and given her stellar record in the brutal underground, in which she would still occasionally take on two or three opponents at a time before the BFC had instituted team fights, she couldn't really argue. But the beautiful vampire warrior would never pass up any opportunities to spar, which served her purposes about as well.
And as Eveline had, all three would develop their own styles, and with that would come their goals for their time in ACW: Since they already had experience fighting side by side and had come to know each other so well as competitors in the wars they fought against each other in the BFC's singles division, Mary and Lucinda would be pointed towards the tag team titles. Both would do her one better, with Mary winning the KO championship while Lucinda would take the submission title.
Jaclyn would struggle for some time. Since she was new to the inside of the business, Serina had simply wanted her to focus on improving. There was no issue with that at first, but after Mary and Lucinda had become double champions, she'd taken it upon herself to shoot for the stars, getting into fights that she wasn't ready for.
Most prominently, the mess she'd gotten into with the middleweight champion, Nyx Alexander. After weaponizing Nyx's recently failed engagement to Vincent Castellano to goad her into setting up an impromptu title defense, she would be put out of action for months after suffering an orbital fracture, ruptured liver, and a shoulder that had been pulled out of its socket.
It was a troublesome situation. Jaclyn had gone too far to start with, and Nyx had gone too far in retaliation, even attempting violence against Emilia (who was there in the front row to cheer her then girlfriend on) during an altercation that began with Nyx taking the time to taunt her after having pulled the momentum of the match in her direction a few minutes in.
That could not stand. Ionia would call her out the following week to challenge her to a match, and she would make her pay. And in the process, not only gain a new rival, but also make things quite awkward in regards to future get-togethers with Alix.
But that's another story.
Jaclyn would make a full recovery and return to the ring with cooled jets, having learned from the ordeal. Evening the score with Nyx wouldn't be in the cards for her, but she would become a prominent figure in ACW's hardcore scene, winning that title twice in their final year there.
And just as Serina had with every company that wasn't Premier Women's Wrestling, The Coterie would leave ACW with every member a champion aside from its manager (who would become her wife soon after), vacating the belts they'd left behind after LAW had reached out.
LAW. She hadn't shared it with the world at large, but Serina decided that this would be the end of the line for her. With her mother's life having been claimed by a stroke, she had only one reason to keep going as a wrestler: To continue giving back. As the lone wolf, she'd done everything she'd wanted to in rings all over the world, achieved every accolade that she'd set her mind towards achieving. All she had to do now was prove to herself that she was truly capable of passing that talent on to the next generation.
Starting with The Coterie, which now included Emilia, who'd started training seriously the day she turned eighteen.
Serina would make that run for the gold one last time, leading her family of choice along so they could hopefully find their own paths to everlasting greatness.
That would be too sweet a deal to pass up. Winning the title in these circumstances would make her a marked woman. All of the others in the back would be itching for a chance to take her down, and why wouldn't they? The boss put her on Easy Street. Let her skip the line.
She looked forward to it up until Eveline revealed that she had gotten herself signed as well, under the name Lacramioara Albescu. It was a simple decision for her: She was already a devoted traveler, could handle herself if the need arose, as a demonstration with a burly man who had an issue with the word "no" during a night out proved, and this she wouldn't say, but she wanted a little more excitement in her life. And what better way to get it than through taking on the world of professional wrestling with her girlfriend, who appeared to be on the fast track to being one of the, if not the most hated women in the locker room?
It would be mainly in a managerial role, but Serina was still worried. On top of dealing her own problems, she would also have to make sure that Eveline didn't get hurt.
But she would do as she was asked in the conversation they had about that, and give Eveline the chance to prove that she could stand by her and make herself useful. Not that she had a choice: That signing was just further proof that like her, she wasn't a woman who could be stopped when she truly had her mind set on something.
The vampire gimmicks were a start. The idea had come up prior to Eveline's revelation, with Serina herself wanting to do something special for her debut, which would fall on Halloween day. Adding a vampiric touch to what was already a dark aesthetic was already in her head, but not as a permanent fixture as Eveline suggested. She'd sensed the opportunity to kill two birds with one stone: The first was figuring out a way to get Serina to loosen up some while she's at work. Somehow, some way, she wanted to give or get her to something in wrestling that was her own. Something that wasn't connected to the resentment that fueled her for all this time.
Maybe Melanie Birke, the character she created for their game would be the way to go. She put a lot of herself into the character, so bringing her back out into the real world, with some alterations, obviously, would be an easy process. And it would help get Eveline to that second bird: Easing her into the reveal.
Ironically, Ionia would not come to be until afterwards. After they've sat down and discussed exactly how they would go about things, and after a worried Mr. Morasanu had tried and failed to talk his daughter out of it, and subsequently pinned all responsibility on Serina. For Eveline's choice, and for anything that might happen to her.
Serina took it upon herself to supplement Eveline's martial training with her wrestling knowledge to be on the safe side. And to make sure she knew how tough it could get in the ring, she'd often wrestle her to the point of exhaustion. Expecting anger at some point, she would instead see perseverance. Eveline would endure, she would learn, and she would even ask for more. Although that was mostly her milking their sessions for all they were worth after seeing how Serina would make up for all the hardship, namely the full body massages and worship.
The dedication shown both in their private ring and in the gym would change Serina's mind about the situation, leading to the eased discussion of their gimmicks that Eveline was hoping for. Lacramioara would be the one who turned her and introduced her to a world that was just beneath the surface of the one that she and everyone else knew. But she had never paid attention to wrestling before, only ending up in the arena the night they first crossed paths by circumstance, leading to Ionia (Melanie Birke was not an option for a name) being largely in charge while Lacramiora would handle the day-to-day and other assorted tasks.
The rest would be figured out on the fly. It worked well enough in VtM.
One of those things would be the fangs. Recalling the buzz that Elina and Phoebe -- known competitively as Bloody Mary and and Lucinda Kane -- had generated in the BFC with the canine teeth that they had surgically shaped into sharp fangs, Eveline would undergo the procedure herself. As would everyone in their group, eventually. Serina herself was hesitant until she learned that it was an easily reversible process.
There was more to Lacramioara than she'd given her credit for. She really knew how to work people: Crowds, rivals, officials, referees who had been paid for or otherwise compromised by an aforementioned rival...It would sometimes bring Ionia trouble, but nothing that went too much further beyond what she'd already signed up for. And in the end, things would turn out well. The fans loved it, her enemies would be thrown off balance, and she knew how to perk her up as well. And with the extra time she had to devote to preparing herself for her matches, she would find herself operating at an even higher level of efficiency.
As for Lacramioara taking care of herself? ACW was a company that didn't partake in any sexfighting. In the few times she stepped in between the ropes for that standard fare, it would be made clear that her goal was to neutralize her foe (and it was a foe every time). Bring them down as swiftly, efficiently, and pragmatically as possible, rules be damned. All were losses for her officially by way of disqualification, but the war would be won. Everyone backstage would know that she was no easy target.
Especially when The Coterie was formed. A year after Ionia and Lacramioara were introduced to the ACW audience, Bloody Mary, Lucinda Kane, and Smiling Jaclyn would join them. The former two after the short-lived BattleFuck Championship had gone under following a police investigation uncovering the owner's part in a large-scaled drug operation, and the latter would be entirely new to competing in combat sports.
As she had with Eveline, Serina would take Elina and Jaclyn under her wing -- the cocky Phoebe insisted that she had no need for a teacher, and given her stellar record in the brutal underground, in which she would still occasionally take on two or three opponents at a time before the BFC had instituted team fights, she couldn't really argue. But the beautiful vampire warrior would never pass up any opportunities to spar, which served her purposes about as well.
And as Eveline had, all three would develop their own styles, and with that would come their goals for their time in ACW: Since they already had experience fighting side by side and had come to know each other so well as competitors in the wars they fought against each other in the BFC's singles division, Mary and Lucinda would be pointed towards the tag team titles. Both would do her one better, with Mary winning the KO championship while Lucinda would take the submission title.
Jaclyn would struggle for some time. Since she was new to the inside of the business, Serina had simply wanted her to focus on improving. There was no issue with that at first, but after Mary and Lucinda had become double champions, she'd taken it upon herself to shoot for the stars, getting into fights that she wasn't ready for.
Most prominently, the mess she'd gotten into with the middleweight champion, Nyx Alexander. After weaponizing Nyx's recently failed engagement to Vincent Castellano to goad her into setting up an impromptu title defense, she would be put out of action for months after suffering an orbital fracture, ruptured liver, and a shoulder that had been pulled out of its socket.
It was a troublesome situation. Jaclyn had gone too far to start with, and Nyx had gone too far in retaliation, even attempting violence against Emilia (who was there in the front row to cheer her then girlfriend on) during an altercation that began with Nyx taking the time to taunt her after having pulled the momentum of the match in her direction a few minutes in.
That could not stand. Ionia would call her out the following week to challenge her to a match, and she would make her pay. And in the process, not only gain a new rival, but also make things quite awkward in regards to future get-togethers with Alix.
But that's another story.
Jaclyn would make a full recovery and return to the ring with cooled jets, having learned from the ordeal. Evening the score with Nyx wouldn't be in the cards for her, but she would become a prominent figure in ACW's hardcore scene, winning that title twice in their final year there.
And just as Serina had with every company that wasn't Premier Women's Wrestling, The Coterie would leave ACW with every member a champion aside from its manager (who would become her wife soon after), vacating the belts they'd left behind after LAW had reached out.
LAW. She hadn't shared it with the world at large, but Serina decided that this would be the end of the line for her. With her mother's life having been claimed by a stroke, she had only one reason to keep going as a wrestler: To continue giving back. As the lone wolf, she'd done everything she'd wanted to in rings all over the world, achieved every accolade that she'd set her mind towards achieving. All she had to do now was prove to herself that she was truly capable of passing that talent on to the next generation.
Starting with The Coterie, which now included Emilia, who'd started training seriously the day she turned eighteen.
Serina would make that run for the gold one last time, leading her family of choice along so they could hopefully find their own paths to everlasting greatness.
Strategy:
Spoiler
Get in the ring with Ionia, and it won't take long to find out why they call her The Master Technician. Name a submission hold or pinning maneuver. Chances are, she won't know just one way to escape it; she'll know several. And then she might slap it on you soon afterwards and show you how it's done. As is expected of a woman who's been in the game for eighteen years.
Ionia isn't the strongest, the fastest, or the most agile, but she's enough of all three to be able to employ a fat bag of tricks. That said, she prefers to fight smarter, not harder. Rather than engage in a test of strength at the beginning of a match, she'd prefer to start the opponent off breathless with a stiff kick aimed surgically at the solar plexus and get to work while they're unable to utilize their power. Instead of trying to keep up with a speedy highflyer, she'll wait for an inevitable dive, perhaps even set things up in such a way as to lead them into what they think is an opportunity, and counter it. Most likely with a hold that will cripple their ability to do it again, to say nothing of outpacing her. If she doesn't counter a striker outright, she'll engage them in those head-on, back and forth contests they favor just long enough for them to get comfortable before capturing their limb and getting to work on it. That is, if they don't drop from the vicious Thunderclap and Knife Edge chops she tends to favor for these contests first.
In a Hentai contest, she prefers to wrestle her opponents to exhaustion, then have her fun while they're defenseless.
Ionia isn't the strongest, the fastest, or the most agile, but she's enough of all three to be able to employ a fat bag of tricks. That said, she prefers to fight smarter, not harder. Rather than engage in a test of strength at the beginning of a match, she'd prefer to start the opponent off breathless with a stiff kick aimed surgically at the solar plexus and get to work while they're unable to utilize their power. Instead of trying to keep up with a speedy highflyer, she'll wait for an inevitable dive, perhaps even set things up in such a way as to lead them into what they think is an opportunity, and counter it. Most likely with a hold that will cripple their ability to do it again, to say nothing of outpacing her. If she doesn't counter a striker outright, she'll engage them in those head-on, back and forth contests they favor just long enough for them to get comfortable before capturing their limb and getting to work on it. That is, if they don't drop from the vicious Thunderclap and Knife Edge chops she tends to favor for these contests first.
In a Hentai contest, she prefers to wrestle her opponents to exhaustion, then have her fun while they're defenseless.
Black Queen's Gauntlet Match
The Queen's Gauntlet runs through all four common means of victory: Firstly, pinfall, submission, and orgasm, scored right after the other in any order and finishing with a knockout.
Beloved Offering Match
A POW or Loser Gets Fucked match with some interesting conditions. The match may be a Standard or Hentai contest, but even in the case of the former, some sexuality is all but guaranteed to be involved during the bout via its lumberjack(s). Unless the opponent comes to the ring with a partner who is interested in the set up, this means Lacramiora, who will stand at ringside. When either competitor is ejected from the ring, they must endure two minutes of her touch and ministrations without resistance, counted from the very moment she first touches them. In the case of a Hentai match, any orgasms that occur this way will count, but as a measure against any potential feelings an opponent may have of this being an unfair contest, they are allowed another orgasm before it is considered a loss, while Ionia is only allowed one. As an extra effort, if Ionia is driven to climax in a Standard match, it will be counted as a defeat while there are no penalties placed on the opponent if it were to happen to them.
In the event that the opponent also has a partner with them who is interested in participating in that manner, those same rules will apply to their side as well: If either competitor is ejected from the ring, they must endure two minutes of sexual contact, with Ionia being allowed two orgasms while they are only allowed one, and an orgasm will be a loss if they reach it and inconsequential to her within a Standard match.
In the event that the opponent also has a partner with them who is interested in participating in that manner, those same rules will apply to their side as well: If either competitor is ejected from the ring, they must endure two minutes of sexual contact, with Ionia being allowed two orgasms while they are only allowed one, and an orgasm will be a loss if they reach it and inconsequential to her within a Standard match.
Signature and Finishing Moves
Signature Moves
Paradise Lock
After using her opponent's limbs to tie them up all nice and neat, there are a variety of things that Ionia could do.
Like give them a literal ass kicking (or maybe a spanking)...
Turn her opponent into her throne...
And of course, a number of lewd things.
Inverted Boston Crab/Wheel of Torment
She may also wrench the opponent's neck hard by the chin, bending them into a circular shape that puts a hell of a lot of pressure on their back, at which point this becomes the Wheel of Torment, a Finishing Move.
Gates of Disaster
Starts as a regular Gory Stretch. From there, she could do a variety of things. Like switching grips and bending her opponent in half...
Hit a Gory Bomb...
A modified Sister Abigail...
Or a Widow's Peak. All continuations besides the Gory Bomb are Finishing Moves.
Wheel of Discombobulation
Ionia could keep the wheel turning for quite a while if need be, and can follow up with some fine hand/finger/tongue play while the opponent is dizzy.
Thunderclap/Knife Edge Chops
Boston Crab Backbreaker
Finishing Moves
Web of Torment
Once applied, Ionia could either maneuver the opponent onto their shoulders for a pin, use her free hand to play with their bodies, or if the opponent has earned her wrath or otherwise pushed her to her limit, can stretch the other leg out in a vicious kneebar (in which case this becomes a Critical Finishing Move).
Queen's Mercy
Ionia usually just presses her foot down on her opponent until their shoulders are touching the mat, but like the Paradise Lock, she has other uses for this hold as well.
Canadian Annihilator
Discus Elbow
Doesn't necessarily have the kick to fake out opponents, but she could make use of it.
Critical Finishing Moves
Final Death
Ionia will use this when an opponent just won't tap out or stay down for those three seconds, but has no hard feelings towards them. Two knees, with one hundred and eighty-five pounds and quite a bit of momentum on top of them? That'll do it.
Queen's Wrath
Another move she'll bust out if nothing else works. After building momentum with a tilt-a-whirl headscissor spin, Ionia utilizes her weight to smash the opponent's face into the mat...
And locks in a double armbar crossface while they're seeing stars.
In With Your Head
This is what an opponent gets when she's had enough of them. At that point, she's as liable to sweep the leg and let momentum do its thing as she is to lift the opponent up and spike their head into the mat, damn near caving their head in either way.
Unknown woman from Edge's WWF debut vignettes
Relationships
Friends
- Bloody Mary
- Lucinda Kane
- Smiling Jaclyn
- Alix Jacques
- Silvia Dimir
Family
- Sybil (Sister-In-Law)
Allies
Crushes
Rivals
Enemies
Lovers
- Lacramioara Albescu ("The moon that lights my nights. My beloved, always and forever.")
It's...Awkward
- Nyx Alexander
- Bloody Mary
- Lucinda Kane
- Smiling Jaclyn
- Alix Jacques
- Silvia Dimir
Family
- Sybil (Sister-In-Law)
Allies
Crushes
Rivals
Enemies
Lovers
- Lacramioara Albescu ("The moon that lights my nights. My beloved, always and forever.")
It's...Awkward
- Nyx Alexander
