Not So Solitary Confinement - Audrey Trovita vs Callum "Brick" McRae (D)

[ThurmanMermanPlx]

Match Rules: Hardstyle hentai, PoW rules in effect.
Additional conditions: Match takes place inside a cage. A door on one side sealed with a padlock is the only exit. One digit of the code is hidden somewhere under each corner turnbuckle.
Victory condition: Escape the cage.
______

*15 minutes prior to the match*

"Another one? My god, Audrey, what is wrong with you?"

The door to the locker room opened, and

's eyes shifted to the intruder, distracted for the second time from her phone conversation. That same stagehand again, tapping his watch and jerking his thumb over his shoulder. Audrey just nodded, more vigorously than the first time he'd come to fetch her, and pointed at her phone with a shrug.

"I know what I'm doing, Emery," she replied as the staffer mirrored her shrug and retreated, pulling the door closed behind him. Moron hadn't even knocked this time. Lucky for Audrey, she'd already geared up in between his visits.

"Do you?? That last guy treated you like his own personal blow-up doll!"

Audrey turned away from the door and back to the mirror attached to the back of her locker door, holding her phone to her head with her shoulder while she worked on putting her hair up. "And that's exactly why I need to do this! Guys with attitudes like this need to be taught a lesson!" Her scrunchie snapped against her palm as it slipped out of her grip, causing a groan as she worked to set it back into place.

"I'm not saying it isn't a..." A pause. "A noble cause. But why you? Why can't you leave it to one of the superstars? Your track record against these people speaks for itself."

The redhead rolled her eyes, pulling her ponytail through the scrunchie one final time and letting it fan out down her neck and upper back. "You know, of all the low blows I've ever taken, that one was the worst."

The high-pitched voice crackled with static, even as Audrey pulled the phone away from her ear. "This isn't a game, Audrey! How much longer are you going to put yourself through this?!" Thankfully the locker room was empty; even without being on speaker, she'd surely have gotten some unwanted attention over that line.

"You know the answer to that," the redhead responded coolly, having returned the phone to her ear. She turned her head side-to-side, making sure her ponytail stayed put through the turbulence.

"You're going to get yourself killed!"

Behind her, the sound of the locker room door opening once again made her sigh, and sure enough, she spun around to see a familiar face, this time looking frantic. He tapped his watch with enthusiasm.

Meanwhile, Emery kept talking. "You thought Ivan was bad? This guy's been to prison!"

...Oh. That was news. Finally, they were getting to the reason she'd called; she had no time to look up her opponent before the match, but Emery had a bad habit of doomscrolling. There was no doubt she'd go look up this Callum on her own and try to intimidate Audrey into calling off the match. Audrey jabbed her finger at her phone again; the stagehand threw his hands in the air, clearly exasperated. He turned to leave, this time slamming the door shut without pretext, but Audrey ignored him. "And before Ivan, I thought Laurent was bad. And before Laurent I thought Dolly was bad. And I thought Caesar was bad before any of them! There's always going to be someone worse."

Emery didn't immediately respond, leaving a deafening silence settle into the room. Audrey frowned, but held her tongue. But the silence spoke volumes, and it quickly grated on her nerves. She began to head towards the door - mostly as a distraction, but she was a little late, thanks to this.

"I'm scared for you, sis."

Audrey froze in place mid-step, eyes darting to the side as if that would allow her to see her phone. She took a deep breath followed by a slow exhale, eyes closed and head tilted downwards. She couldn't very well leave that hanging. She opened her mouth, not entirely sure what she intended to say-

...

-and was interrupted by her music blasting through the speakers. Oh, fuuu-

"I gotta go. It's starting. We'll talk later. Love you."

And without waiting for a reply, she ended the call, shoved her phone into her locker, slammed it shut, and took off running out the door.

_____________

Audrey skidded to a stop just before the curtain of smoke. There had been no music in the halls, which could only mean someone - she wasn't naming names, after all - had just spooked her into action, but she couldn't really blame them for that, infuriating as it was. It wasn't like she wanted to get into regular arguments with her sister...

Wrong. She shouldn't be focusing on anything but her impending match now; all other concerns were secondary. She shook her head as if to clear out the cobwebs, and tried to focus on her mystery opponent, instead. A difficult feat, given how little information she'd actually gleaned. For her efforts, she was rewarded with one phrase: "This guy's been to prison."

Her signature sparkler sat on a crate, waiting for her. She picked it up, but as she went to light it, she found she didn't really want to. Her brain latched on to that one line, and from it attempted to branch out into all manner of things that might be in store for her. If not for

kicking on for real, she may have stood there for the rest of the night with her imagination going wild...

One deep breath later and sparkler in hand, she trotted out through the smoke and down the ramp. To any regular viewer, she'd look for all the world like her typical energetic self; waving the sparkler like a baton, twirling down the ramp and letting her skirt blow in the resulting wind, and upon reaching the (currently cageless) ring, drawing her name in midair before putting the sparkler out in the waiting glass of water. But to whatever diehard fans she had out there, they'd notice she was off. Her skips lacked the proper bounce, her twirls were slower and skirt fanned out less as a result, the sparkler-waving did not have the usual high-energy flair.

She was distracted, and her mind wasn't in the game. A dangerous spot to start a match, to say the least.

This guy's been to prison.

Like the flick of a lightswitch, Audrey was suddenly aware of her posture as she settled into her corner. Deep breaths, in and out through her nose, subconsciously preventing shaky ones from slipping through her lips, alarmingly close to hyperventilating. Her entire body quivering, worse than a biting winter's wind. Her fists griped the upper ropes with such pressure that her knuckles had begun to turn white. She'd been scared before matches before, but this was different. When she asked herself if they'd truly pit her against someone who meant to do her dangerously real harm... given all the other shady types this company took in, she had to accept that she could not confidently answer 'of course not'.

In her eyes, a predator would see all of this and more. She could only hope to steady herself and hope Callum did not see her as prey.

[Parker]

The arena beyond the curtains thrummed like a living thing, a slow, steady heartbeat that pressed at Callum’s ears even through the concrete and drapes. Metal and sweat hung in the hallways, threaded with that sharp, chemical tang of fresh steel and rubber; it smelled like work, like cages and setups and people waiting for spectacle.

Callum sat on a grimy storage box, elbows on his knees, fists clenching and unclenching. Tape bit into his palms. His knuckles stood out white against the leather of his gloves; his jaw ached from the tightness he’d held in it all day. He’d been inside fences before, but never under lights like this. Never with thousands of faces waiting to see whether he’d climb out or fall in.

“Place smells like a prison yard before lockdown,” he muttered, half to himself, half to the woman leaning coolly against the far wall. He flicked a look up at Zui Fang. She was folded into herself, everything about her calm and collected in a way that only made his pulse spike. “Difference is, back there, no one was payin’ to see who’d walk out.”

Zui smirked and shrugged. “Don’t kid yourself. The guards were probably trading money on it. Now at least you get a cut.”

He let out a sharp breath and pressed a palm to his thigh to settle the jitter. In the vending machine’s reflective glass across the corridor, his own face looked like a man who’d learned to live with bruises: jaw set, eyes too bright, hair slick with sweat. He didn’t like how much he recognized himself in the reflection, how much he looked like he belonged behind bars.

“Thought I was done with locked doors and shit like this,” he said, voice low and rough, the bitterness half-masked by a crooked grin he forced up at Zui. “Feels like the same game, someone upstairs having a laugh.”

He leaned the length of his bones against the painted cinderblock and let the wall take him. “So… what d’you think, Fang? They messing with me? Trying to get in my head? Thinkin’ I won’t knock some girl out?” The bravado was there, easy on the tongue, but the restlessness in his hands and tapping foot gave the lie away. This was a bigger stage than he had ever been on before, filled with crowds of people that weren’t from their world. Law-abiding people with good lives, watching him out there. He wouldn’t admit it, but there were some nerves at play.

Zui pushed off the wall and closed the small distance between them, her steps quiet but decisive. She looked him over like a coach appraising a player, cool, sharp, nothing wasted. “Stop sounding like a pussy,” she said flatly, the words a slap that somehow steadied him. “If they wanted to get in your head, you practically leave the door open with plenty of room to spare. This isn’t a big deal, Brick, this is some clean-cut wrestler girl. If they wanted to fuck you, they’d have put you in there with someone like me who knows how to twist the knife.”

She folded her arms and let a half-smile ghost at the corner of her mouth. “Think about it like this: Keep your head. Don’t let her be squirrely. She ain’t here to trade blows with you, she doesn’t have to. She’s here to run. You’re the wolf in that cage. She’s the sheep.”

Callum swallowed, the image settling in his chest like fuel. He felt a grin cracking loose again, meaner this time. He could do that. He could be the wolf. He nodded, sitting up a bit straighter. “Yeah… She’s not a brawler. Probably some flippy-gymnast cunt.”

Zui’s voice dropped, close and steady, leaning in to smile at Callum: “She’s a meal. So don’t rush and just… take your time and chew.”

Callum’s chest rose and fell in a hard rhythm, but the grin that cut his face now wasn’t forced. It was sharp, alive, teeth bared like he was already prowling. He stood up from the box in one motion, rolling his shoulders, fists flexing as though the cage door was already swinging open. The restless tapping in his foot had changed, no more nerves, just a steady beat, like a war drum inside his ribs.

“Wolf and sheep, huh,” he muttered, and this time it wasn’t with doubt, it was a promise. He cracked his knuckles one by one, the sound echoing against the concrete as he squared himself to the curtain. His head tilted just enough for Zui to catch the glint in his eye. “Let’s see how she runs when I sink my teeth in.”

Zui only gave him a knowing look, that half-smile lingering like she’d just lit a fire and now wanted to see how far it burned. She didn’t need to say more. She’d already given him the frame, the leash off the beast.

---------------

Smoke - Ironed Out

pushed through the drape and into the light,

at his side. The crowd roared, half jeers, half cheers, all of it fuel. Callum fed on it instantly, arms spreading wide as though daring the whole dome to come for him. His boots hit the ramp in heavy rhythm, shoulders rolling with that cocksure swagger, a crooked smirk cutting across his face. His eyes were locked on the steel cage, hanging high above and waiting to drop over the ring. It wasn’t a prison to him tonight it was his hunting ground

At ringside, their paths split. Callum didn’t hesitate; he rolled under the bottom rope with the hungry energy of a man unleashed, rising in one fluid motion to stalk toward the center. His gaze locked on Audrey, already standing in the ring. He paced the center of the ring as if he owned it, daring her to come take it from him. He couldn't help the grin that painted itself across his face when he saw her huddled in the corner like she was trying to hide away. He'd been nervous, over this? "You know I can see you, right?"

Zui peeled off toward the barricade with her own brand of disdainful grace, every step unhurried, every glance razor sharp. Halfway down she paused, eyes narrowing on a fan leaning over the rail and barking insults in her face. She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t need to. One long moment of silence stretched as their eyes met—then she casually palmed the man’s head and shoved, toppling him backward into the crush of the crowd.

“Hand me his chair,” she barked at another fan nearby. “Asshole can stand.”

They scrambled without hesitation, yanking up the folding seat and pressing it into her hands like a peace offering. Zui accepted it with a graceful nod and a sly wink, before spitting a wad of contempt back onto the man she’d floored. The chair snapped shut in her grip, dragged along with her like spoils of war as she strode toward the commentary desk.

The announcers froze as she arrived, words caught in their throats. Zui tossed the chair down with a clang, bent to unfold it with a crisp snap, and dragged it neatly into place. Then, as though it had always been hers, she lowered herself into it with lazy confidence, one leg crossing elegantly over the other. The headset was thrust toward her without protest, and she slid it on, jaw settling into the mic’s curve.

The camera caught the faint curl of her lips just before her voice poured into the broadcast, smooth, sharp, cool as steel.

“Hope you skipped dinner,” she mused. “Because what’s about to happen in that cage? It's not a contest. It's feeding time.”

[ThurmanMermanPlx]

Drawn out of her inner doom spiral, Audrey glanced up as her theme changed, drowned out by an unfamiliar song blaring through the arena, and signaling the moment she'd been stressing over. He was here. She waited with baited breath for her opponent to emerge, her fists somehow clenched around the ropes even more tightly than before. Her eyes locked on the entrance opposite hers, focusing so hard that she barely blinked.

And when he finally appeared, her first thought was that he was not what she'd envisioned.

Callum was not the hulking, tattooed mass of pierced muscle (as far as she could tell in such short time, anyway) she had been expecting. That wasn't to say he didn't have some bulk to him, but he was slender too. If she didn't know any better, she could easily mistake him for someone she'd see at her local gym. He looked far more normal than the picture of a delinquent her brain had painted.

And none of these facts contributed any meaningful comfort to ease the redhead's nerves. She vaguely recalled that this might be his first official outing, but if it was, his walk down the ramp betrayed nothing. His confident stride could have belonged to a seasoned veteran. Perhaps that's how he was treating this night; like a street fight with a rival gang member he was about to shatter.

A tiny voice in the back of her mind reminded her that that wasn't fair. She was judging him without really knowing anything for a fact. Emery never stated why he was in prison. Maybe be robbed a bank. Maybe he committed tax fraud. Maybe it didn't matter either way, because just the very notion had already planted the seeds of terror in Audrey's psyche.

He wasn't alone, either. Not that Audrey recognized the woman walking in his wake, but her style was familiar. Shame Keira wasn't going to be coming to her rescue tonight. Then again, this was meant to be a one-on-one... assuming fair play. Maybe she was just there to add to the intimidation factor. Audrey spared the woman only a momentary glance regardless, as her opponent - the known threat - had entered the ring and appeared to be sizing her up. Not even from his corner, but from the center of the ring.

"You know I can see you, right?"

Audrey's eyes widened in surprise, and she jumped as though startled. At least she hadn't yelped. Immediately, her back straightened as she stood upright, willing a glare onto her face. It was probably too late, given that comment, but putting on a façade was better than leaning into the role of frightened deer in headlights.

The play was to walk right up to him, get right into his face, show him that she had a fire inside. Erase any hope that he might have had about this being an easy fight. But though she knew what she had to do, her feet remained firmly planted against the mat, her legs refusing to even bend. "Just letting myself relax," she lied, arms crossing as she leaned back against the turnbuckle before she even realized what she was saying. It was a struggle just to make sure her voice didn't break. Too late to take it back now. After a beat, she let her eyes close and tilted her head down, as though she were trying to nap. She waved one hand his way in a 'shoo' motion before re-crossing her arms, her voice echoing with forced calm. "Just had to make sure your babysitter wasn't going to hold your hand all the way into the ring, you understand."

She cringed internally almost immediately. Stupid. Making herself look tougher than she appeared was one thing; antagonizing the bull was another.

A clanging sound snapped her eyes open again and drew her attention upwards, her mouth set in a firm line. She followed the chain-linked cage as it was lowered around the ring, making sure to keep Callum in the corner of her eye. She hadn't noticed before, what with all the frantic panic and attention on her outward presentation, but the sight of her very own prison coming down around her set her heartbeat into overdrive. This was it; until she managed to unlock that door, she was officially trapped with him.

Look at the positives, she told herself. It's a guarantee of no outside interference.

Another statement offering little comfort, but comfort just wasn't a term meant for the ring, she supposed.

As some staffer or another set to work ensuring the door was locked and the cage secured, Audrey returned her attention towards the obstacle standing in the way of her freedom. She began to perform some last-minute stretches, more to try and funnel some of her nervous energy into something productive than feeling like she needed to loosen up. "Let's see if you can keep up, hm?"

[Parker]

“Relaxin’, huh?” he drawled, boots thudding a steady rhythm as he paced a half-circle around her. The cage rattled overhead, every shake punctuating his words. His accent was hard to place, somewhere European, rough and jagged, Scottish brogue bleeding into Mancunian grit. It gave his voice a strange sound, half singsong, half blunt-force, like sarcasm and agitation tangled into one. “Aye, I can help with tha—”

He broke off mid-step, his brow furrowing. Babysitter? It took him a beat to connect the dots, and when it landed his head jerked toward Zui Fang at commentary, then snapped back to Audrey in the corner. His jaw twitched as he ground his teeth, fingers curling until the leather of his gloves creaked under the strain. For a moment he looked like he might burst. Then a sharp, ugly grin cracked across his face.

“You got some lip on you, huh?” His tone had that dumb chuckle under it, like he thought the whole thing was funny but the way his eyes narrowed carried a mean promise.

The cage kept dropping, metal groaning as it sealed the ring in, and Callum’s grin settled deeper. No ref. No pins. No breaks. Just them. His boots scuffed in a zig-zag as he started his stalk, shoulders rolling like he was working out a kink, smirk tugging at his mouth while his eyes never left her. Every step was with a bit of bounce to his tall, hunched posture, but his fists clenched like he could snap at any second.

By the time the final clang hit and the sound of the overhead cranes silenced, he cut across the mat in a sudden burst. No warning, no finesse, just a bull rush. His big hand shot out, palm smearing across her face, fingers snatching to dig into her cheeks and jaw as he tried to pin her drive her back against the turnbuckles, holding her there like prey caught in a vice as he bent over her to stare her in the eyes.

“How long, eh?” he growled, voice low but sharp, lowering forehead nearly pressing against hers. “How long ‘til you drop the tough girl act… and start beggin’ for that door to be open, princess?” His presence was suffocating, a coiled spring tensed to a breaking point, ready to snap before the bell had even rung. There was a challenge in his eyes for her to say something dumb, say something sassy, give him a reason to pound her into the first before things even kicked off.

[ThurmanMermanPlx]

For one fleeting and absolutely glorious moment, Audrey had the pleasure of witnessing Callum's brain in action, working in overdrive to comprehend her taunt. His expression said it all; the gears were turning in there, and even his fists clenched as if that was helping him think. She was half surprised steam hadn't spewed out of his ears. And in that same brief moment, the spectacle actually caused Audrey to chuckle, a blissful reprieve from horrible anticipation.

But as quickly as it came, the moment was shattered. His eyes narrowed, but he grinned, and all at once, the anxiety returned. He started creeping towards her, looking more the part of gangster that she'd originally expected. Audrey contemplated stepping forwards to meet him, but the bubbling nerves and a focus on not visibly trembling kept her rooted in place. His eyes were locked on her, and mistrust kept hers on him, too. If nothing else, she learned that it was easy to get under his skin. She filed that tidbit away for later; could prove useful, if risky, before this night was done.

And then she blinked and he was on her. The redhead gasped and her eyes went wide with shock as he invaded her bubble, caught by the face with nails digging into her cheeks and causing her eyes to water. Her hands shot to his wrist, attempting to pry his grip loose. Her heartbeat raced, just now realizing that the cage was now in place and there was nowhere to run, brain still playing catch-up and not registering that it was far too late for that. She'd reflexively leaned backwards when he caught her, already against the post with nowhere to go, but that only made her body more pliant as he bent her backwards over the turnbuckle. And to make sure she had no leverage to resist, he leaned forwards, their faces less than an inch from each other.

Several seconds passed as he spoke. During that time, shock melted away and faded back into terror, and several thoughts went through her mind in rapid succession: Was he about to pull a knife on her? How was he so fast? Maybe she should have taken the opportunity to peek at the number under her corner before he'd even shown up...

His eyes bore into her, hard and cold. He'd seen right through her. Not that she'd provided an A+ performance, but she'd hoped she'd done enough to at least show him that she wouldn't be going down without a fight. Her heart refused to slow down, but her breathing slowed just shy of hyperventilating, and her own eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she blinked away the tears before they could fall. Her hands raised, palms placed against his chest as she began to attempt pushing him away.

Despite her position, she didn't call herself 'firecracker' for nothing. She couldn't help but snapping back an ill-advised retort, her eyes darting quickly towards his partner at the commentary table and back to him again. "I figure I just gotta hang on 'till it's time for you to be tucked in. How hard could it be?"

[Parker]

As her palms pressed against his chest, Audrey's efforts to distance them only served to make things worse. Emboldened by the divide in their position and power, he leaned his weight in even harder making sure she felt his fingers clamping down on her jaw. When she finally mustered the courage to speak up though, it seemed to take him by surprise.

Callum’s face contorted like a man caught between three bad impulses at once, disbelief twitching in his brows, fury flickering in the grind of his jaw, and then wicked amusement curling everything into a too-wide grin. It split across his face with the jagged edge of someone who found the whole world laughable and himself the punchline.

“...Tucked in?” he parroted, his strange brogue twisting it into something sharp and mocking, every syllable dripping with sarcasm. His shoulders twitched with a shudder of restrained laughter, head cocking sideways like he could barely contain himself.

Then he buried his fist into her stomach.

THHHUMP!

The sound rattled the turnbuckle with the force. Audrey jolted around his knuckles, her body folding violently as her breath tore free in a sharp gasp. Callum kept her pinned by the face, forcing her to take all of it as he shoved her upright again. Head cocked like a bird curiously observing the world around him

And then, he laughed.

A raw, barking cackle that rattled his chest and pressed hot against her skin as his forehead hovered close to hers. His shoulders shook with it, spittle glinting at the corner of his lips. “BAH-HAH! Did I tuck THAT in good enough for you, bitch?! ” he crowed, eyes wide and blazing, drunk on his own wit. The cruel mirth in his voice made it clear he thought it was the funniest thing he’d ever said, every second stretched out to wring her humiliation dry.

Still holding her face he stepped aside and he yanked her forward like she was nothing more than a ragdoll, dragging her out of the corner and tossing her past his hip toward the center of the ring. His hand swung loose behind her head as she stumbled forward, snapping across her scalp with a stinging SMACK! Not brutal in its power, but humiliating, calculated to leave her looking foolish in front of the crowd.

Callum barked another laugh, chest heaving, strutting after her like a wolf that had already tasted blood.

[ThurmanMermanPlx]

It did not take long for Audrey to realize that her upper body strength would not be winning her this match. Her efforts to drive Callum backwards were met with the exact opposite result; he leaned in even closer, tightening his grip on her jaw and effectively taking away what little leverage to push she may have had. She grunted in both pain and frustration, adding another problem to the growing list of reasons to be concerned going forward.

He took her taunt about as well as could be expected - that being so dumbfounded that he couldn't decide how to respond. Yep, he was just as easy to tick off as those that came before him. A double-edged blade, as she would soon be reminded. Once he sorted out his thoughts, though, Audrey could feel a pit in her gut upon seeing the wicked grin that sprouted on his face. She would have swallowed hard, had she any control over her face. To her credit, she managed to maintain eye contact.

She would quickly wonder if that had been the wrong decision, but she realized even if she had seen the fist flying towards her gut, there wasn't much, if anything, she could have done to stop it. Her eyes widened as any air she had in her lungs was forcefully removed with a choked gasp, her body reflexively curling in on itself. Her feet left the mat as her back was slammed hard into her corner turnbuckle, and her hands reached down to clutch the spot in desperation. Throughout it all, Callum kept his grip tight, preventing her from crumpling into a heap.

When her feet found solid ground again, her legs still trembled from the blow, held up only by the whim of her opponent rather than her own power. Eager to refill her lungs, she inhaled too sharply, irritating her injury and choking on the breath she'd been taking. The resulting coughing fit threatened to bring back the tears.

His laughter grated on her nerves. His insult was degrading and stung her pride, but at the moment, the redhead was too busy trying to remember how to inhale without pain to think of a response. She glared at him instead, the best answer she could offer. Even then, he had a fire in his eyes that Audrey hadn't seen earlier, and her glare wilted under his.

"Gh-aah!" groaned the redhead as she was suddenly pulled forward by that iron grip on her face. Her wobbly legs stumbled in their haste to catch up and get underneath her where they belonged, not quite ready to support her weight as he finally released his hold on her. She staggered, but by some miracle, managed to remain on her feet - only to be rewarded by a *thwack* to the back of her head! The blow sent her lurching forwards another step, her right foot slamming down on the mat to keep herself from actually falling over. A hastily rung bell sounded less than a second later, officially kicking off the contest... not that Callum had any reservations about starting early.

Audrey rubbed the back of her head with one hand, more an instinct than out of pain, while the other tended to her stomach, the discomfort flaring up again when she hunched over. What she wouldn't give for a moment to re-orient herself... but the heavy footsteps approaching from behind ensured that wouldn't come to pass. Audrey forced herself to full height and quickly spun in place, shooting a leg up into the air in a roundhouse kick. It was sloppy, it was barely aimed, and she had no idea if he was even within reach. But at the very least, she hoped it would make him think twice about walking right up to her, giving her a bit of space to catch her breath.

[Parker]

Callum stalked after Audrey with a swagger that was half prison-yard strut, half pub-brawler stumble, his laughter still echoing off the cage. It wasn’t the kind of laugh that warmed the room, it was jagged, mocking, a sound that chewed up the space between them. His boots thudded heavy against the canvas, the sound exaggerated as he made a show of every step, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe how easy this was.

“C’mon, princess,” he called after her, his accent thick, the vowels dragging. “You look like you're about to fold yourself up like a...uh.. like... a folder. Tch! What’s the matter? Thought you had fire.” He smirked wide, tongue poking against his teeth, taunting her without pause.

And then she spun. The redhead whipped around with that wild roundhouse, sloppy but sudden. Callum’s eyes went wide, his body jerking backward with a startled flinch. The boot still clipped him, caught him sharp in the shoulder and skimmed off the top of his head with a thump that snapped his neck sideways.

“Oi! Shite!” he barked, stumbling two steps to the side, his balance tipping dangerously. He caught himself with a wide swing of his arms, his boots squealing against the mat as the cage rattled with his misstep. His face twisted through shock, fury, and then something more unhinged, amusement. A chuckle slipped out, sharp and wild, a hand to his chest as he took a breath. That had been a close call. She almost clocked him… she almost clocked him. His face skewed at the thought, eyes narrowing.

A pause hung between them. There was a world in which Audrey would be complimented for her well timed move. Given a big up for nearly taking his head off. But this wasn't some pub fight. They were in an arena with thousands of people watching, one of them being his boss. Could he be a bigger man and let it slide? Nope

Without a thought, he lunged. A sudden burst of movement, charging at her like a bull seeing red. His arm swung wide for balance, his body barreling forward, and then he kicked his leg as high as he could, aiming to take her head clean off with a big boot. His teeth were bared in something between a grin and a snarl, eyes flashing like the kick itself was a punchline he couldn’t wait to deliver.

[ThurmanMermanPlx]

Audrey felt the dull *thud* against her heel before her brain registered what it meant. Her foot returned to the mat, restoring her balance from her hastily thrown kick, and, confident enough that she was still standing, snapped her vision towards Callum, taking two steps backwards as she did so.

What she witnessed brought a small smirk to her face. Not only did her kick land, but she'd stretched high enough to connect with his head! And, despite her lack of muscle and power, it had been enough to not only halt his forward march, but send him stumbling, besides. She couldn't have hoped for a better result! (Well, okay, maybe seeing him flat on his back would have been better, but she wasn't kidding herself into thinking she'd get that lucky.)

Her brain momentarily blue-screened at his insult. "A... folder? Wh... You have to be playing a bit right now with that one... right?"

With a shrug, she shook her head to clear it. Let him play dumb if he wanted (or... if he couldn't help himself).

"Anyway, you wanted fire? Well, there's the spark. But just judging by that sorry display, folder and all, I don't think you'll be able to handle the heat. Doesn't look like you can think and fight at the same time."

Witty comeback? Check. Now all she had to do was keep the momentum on her side.

Easier said than done, however. Especially when he kept chuckling at her, like even her successes were more irritants to him than setbacks. As easily as she was getting under his skin, she realized he was turning it right back around on her, whether he intended to or not. And just like that, the brief high from her successful kick was gone. She still had a long way to go. On the plus side, it gave her the precious recovery time she'd been aiming to buy.

For a moment, they had a staredown; Callum looking like a wild animal, none to pleased with having taken even a single blow, and Audrey, no longer hunched over as she fought through that sneaky gut punch, but still focused on balanced breathing. She'd given him the keys she needed to win this; get under his skin, and use her agility to her advantage. He was fast, but she was faster. She just had to work on her timing. A second too slow with that kick and she'd have been paste under his boot.

He lunged. Audrey could not tell what he was aiming for in the split-second she had to think. A lariat? A spear? Was he just going to tackle her all the way back into the opposite corner post behind her? He certainly outmatched her in raw strength, and if he got hold of her that would be all he needed. Regardless, her answer was obvious: get the fuck out of the way.

Her poor heart putting in overtime now, Audrey started forward just before his leg shot into the air. The redhead dove ahead and to her right, barely managing an adrenaline-fueled combat roll out of the way as he shot passed her. Instinct took over and when she popped back to her feet, she charged right behind him, leaping into the air and aiming a dropkick at the center of his back.

[Parker]

“Folders fold, its in the fuckin’ name, innit?! ” he barked defensively. His brows scrunched together, jaw grinding, he reached up to slick back the hair that had been disheveled by her kick, smoothing it back down into place. “Lets see how hot you think you are after I stomp your fuckin’ head in!”

He lurched forward, winding himself up, and then threw his boot high with every bit of weight and fury he could muster. Only problem? He whiffed hard. His heel slammed the mat with a THUUUD, and momentum betrayed him. His leg slid out, almost doing the splits, his arms pinwheeling as his face contorted into a mix of rage and panic. “Bloody- oi, shite-!” He cursed, trying to drag himself upright before the moment looked any dumber than it already did.

He didn’t get the chance.

Audrey’s boots thudded into the middle of his back with a sharp CRACK, blasting him forward. Callum hit the canvas on his hands and knees with a grunt, his face snapping down just short of the mat. His shoulders heaved as he shoved his weight up off the canvas, letting a moment of frustration take hold as he pounded his knuckles against the canvas, taking his anger out on the ring.

His shoulders heaved as he pounded a massive fist against the canvas, rattling it under him, the noise carrying all the frustration in his chest.

Callum straightened slowly, the sound of his knuckles cracking against the mat still echoing in the cage. He ran a hand down his face, dragging sweat away as his lips twisted into a snarl that quickly bled into a smirk. It wasn’t a big deal… she was just being difficult. He could deal with that, they had time. The shift in his expression was as messy and unpredictable as the man himself, irritation, confusion, and then that unsettling amusement all crashing together in an instant.

With a forced chuckle he pushed off the mat to rise, half turning to catch Audrey in his sights. A bit more wary than before but still with a degree of menace. He was going to make her pay for embarrassing him, maybe not immediately, but before tonight was over she’d understand she poked at the wrong mad dog. “Spark heh… more like a flash in the pan.” He muttered, perhaps one of his most solid insults, though it lacked the joy of his less polished ones for him.

Despite the sting in his back from the dropkick, Callum shoved himself upright in one sharp motion, whirling around to face the redhead, arms thrown wide, inviting her to try and hit him again. He puffed out his chest, practically daring her. “Few lucky shots,” he said, jabbing a finger toward her. “Sneaky shit behind your back or mine. Doesn't mean shit. Let's see what you actually got.”

He started towards her, a bit slower and more hesitant than before. It was unclear if he was fishing for her to make a move simply to try to counter it or if his pride had been so wounded already he was offering to go blow for blow with her in a more traditional fashion.