The Thing in the Basment (for GrapplerGoddess)

[SisterSelect]

Azalea found the silence of the stairway slightly unnerving.

The LAW arena was always so packed and lively all day and night, so to see a section of it so quiet and bare was certainly off putting. Of course she probably should've expected that considering the door to the basement was barricaded and had "ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK" crudely drawn in ink across the front. The flickering lights, smeared paint-covered hand prints on the wall, and unconscious staff members on the railings were all clear indicators that something terrifying was in the room at the end of this stairway. Any normal person would have ran and never looked back but Azalea was never one to cower in fear. After all if there was anything in the world that could rival Azalea's unparalleled beauty, it would be her stunning confidence. Besides this ink stained horror scene seemed quite familiar.

The reason Azalea found herself trekking through this repulsive basement was due to overhearing a rumor that had been floating around the staff. According to them if a member of the audience left the stands for any reason during a match, they never came back. Supposedly this started happening when that ink message appeared on the door to the basement, and anybody who tried to investigate the place would disappear just like the members of the audience. Only one staff member managed to go into the basement and make it out. Though when she came back not only was half of her body covered in paint and ink, but she was too traumatized to speak clearly about what happened to her. Normally Azalea wouldn't have cared about people going missing or potentially getting kidnapped; in fact under normal circumstances she would be elated to hear about ugly commoners vanishing from the public eye. However it was what the missing people had in common that caught the narcissist's attention: apparently they were all alarmingly beautiful women.

If the staff was telling the truth, then it was only a matter of time until whatever was causing the disappearances came after Azalea herself. After all how long could it resist trying to kidnap the embodiment of beauty? Azalea was not about to let herself get kidnapped, so she decided to take the initiative by finding and ridding LAW of whatever artistic psycho was down here. Though as she continued to traverse the basement Azalea couldn't help but get an ominous sense of déjà vu. Missing beautiful women, ink and paint stains left behind by the perpetrator, and a victim being found traumatized and used like some sort of canvas? It was all so damned specific yet Azalea knew this was not the first time she had encountered this situation. When she finally made it to the doors at the end of the stairway and kicked them down the whole thing became clear.

The room was clearly being used as an art studio. Stacks of paint cans, an array of brushes, and bottles of ink as far as the eye could see. Most of them were unopened and the walls were hardly stained so it was clear, so Azalea guessed this set up was created fairly recently. More importantly though there were a series of naked young women standing on podiums, all with a look of despair deep within their eyes. Some had been painted on with their bodies showing off gorgeous flowers, breathtaking mountain ranges, or elegant animals. Regardless of what was depicted the art style matched the designs found on the one staff member who managed to escape. In the middle of the studio stood a familiar Chinese aesthete with her brush dancing across the body of a girl too spiritually broken to scream for help. Azalea rolled her eyes and mentally berated herself for not figuring out who the obvious perpetrator was earlier. "I see you've relocated your studio, and in quite the interesting location too. I suppose the biggest wrestling federation in Japan would give you access to a variety of gorgeous woman at all times. Not to mention that police girl I saw in the locker room was covered in your hideous designs, so that alone should have tipped me off. But where ARE my manners? How have you been Ms. Tao? Has your arm healed up from our last little meeting?

[GrapplerGoddess]

Ying tossed her brush into the nearby sink and gestured for her current artwork to run back to her podium. She rolled her eyes as a sigh of disappointment escaped her lips. It was bad enough that her more recent lineup of canvases had been painfully average, but now she had to deal with the walking talking personality disorder. Though Ying found it odd Azalea was putting up the genteel act, after all they were the only ones in her studio and the entire population of the building was upstairs watching the current matches so the chance of an uninvited guest dropping by was slim. More importantly both Ying and Azalea were well aware of each other's real personalities, so why the "formalities?" Regardless the painter decided to play along, it's not like she had any real masterpieces to attend to.

"Why it's doing just fine Ms. Narcia. Lovely to see you again, but I'd appreciate if you were a little more gentle with my door." Ying instinctively rubbed her right elbow as she began to untie her apron. Clearly their "last little meeting" had gotten to Azalea's head. She was acting as if Ying almost didn't leave her as a pile of shattered ribs on the pavement. Perhaps she needed a bit of a reminder just how close their previous game really was. Ying casually dropped her apron to the floor and slowly removed her gloves as her golden eyes met the smug emerald ones across the studio."Now to what do I owe this honor? My guests don't usually visit of their own accord.

[SisterSelect]

"Are you implying I need an excuse to drop by and see a friend? At least that's what I want to say. You see Ying I had heard somebody had been inviting the most gorgeous and beautiful women down here. Yet I can't help but notice they've failed to send an invitation to the most beautiful one of all!"
Azalea's motions couldn't have been more exaggerated and melodramatic as she placed her hands on her broach and leaned back as if she had been stabbed through the chest.

"And to find out the host was someone so near and dear to my heart? Oh you wound me Ying! How could you fail to invite me to your gallery?!"

It didn't take a genius to understand the meaning behind Azalea's words, and the narcissist was being far from subtle.