A Touch of Darkness (for BlackAkuma)

[Crossedes]

For all her attempts to explain the comment on his delusions, Storm did wonder if he was deluded. Deluded to think he could make a career work when the higher-ups so plainly normalized, even encouraged... weirdness. Things outside of the realm of regular competition. He supposed he would know more about that by the end of this meeting. If even the therapists thought what he had encountered amounted to no big deal, he couldn't be sure how he would figure out a way to maneuver the oddities of this place.

Storm was making excuses. It had never bothered him much to hear people say that - every coach claimed every explanation was an excuse - so while he withered under her intense, leaning gaze, enough to dig at something on his pants leg, he did little more than shrug at her words. He could go back, expand his vision of the types of fighters he would face, have that problem solved with a couple of weeks of harder training and watching some footage of taekwondo practitioners. That part he worried about none. A good wrestler could learn to break down any sort of fighter. The cheating spoke for itself. Her reputation was her business, and Storm believed people would respect him much more for fighting through it than they ultimately respected her for winning.

He didn't need to say it because she pushed that thought aside, brought up the conversation, brought up-

The frown hit before the redness reached his face, and he ducked both reactions beneath his bangs. The Highlander hadn't thought a thing about his wording when he had asked it, and she wielded it against him. Damn. The child in him wanted to get up and walk out. Who wanted to be made fun of when just summoning the strength to show up for his appointment had been a challenge? But to do so would make him precisely that - a child - and he didn't want anyone seeing him as such. After a beat to gather his composure, he answered, though his eyes remained rooted to the floor.

"She didn't say anything. She had her lackey do it," he began, taking a shot where he could. "It was some nonsense about... taking a kiss as a surrender and stopping the match there to 'spare me,' I guess. Narcissistic bullshit. I've never heard anyone try... anything like that. It made me think she was trying to avoid a fight with empty threats."

He realized he hadn't mentioned the exact threat. Maybe he wouldn't.

[BlackAkuma]

Storm’s attempt to hide his reactions were adorable, but ultimately futile - Alyssa could’ve spotted them from a mile away. She could see right away why LAW had been intent on hiring him, as he checked so many of the boxes of an ideal male competitor. Young, athletic, handsome, but unaccustomed to the unique sort of offense that LAW specialized in, making him easy prey for women like Luong. She wasn’t privy to the booking committee meeting, but she would wager good money that their crossing hadn't been an accident - someone saw him, saw her, put the two together and achieved the desired result. She doubted it would be the last time he was in such a situation, either.

These weren’t thoughts she wanted to burden him with right away, however, not when his mind was already so troubled. She made a note to dial her teasing back, just a notch, not wanting to scare the man off before they reached a good landmark.

She let him explain herself, staying still as he spoke for the most part. She couldn't help but tilt her head when cursed, however, surprised that such a genteel man would dip into vulgarity. It was a testament to the mark that Luong had left on him - even now, days later, she was still worming into his mind, riling him up. It could’ve been that she was just that good at manipulation, but more than anything, she suspected it stemmed from Storm’s own ego, suffering a defeat in such a dishonorable, humiliating fashion.

Something about what he said seemed off, however, and she needed a moment after he spoke to properly process it. A piece of the puzzle was missing.

”Apologies, I’ve never been one to resist good wordplay. One of my own flaws.” She gave him a sincere nod as she rubbed her chin, mulling his situation. ”But this threat she made - I’m assuming it had something to do with the way things ended?” She took care to tread carefully here, speaking soft, sympathetic, understanding, with a mother’s care. ”You’ve never found yourself in a situation quite like that, have you? Nothing even close?”

[Crossedes]

Storm could scarcely look at Dr. Crowley - with her top, and all - and yet he could scarcely look away. At times, the Highlander wondered how many people got stuck between the need to peer at people in curiosity and the anxiety that someone would take their peering as something disquieting. But he wanted to know what he should... expect her to say next. And, frankly, what she thought of him. He had already spoken more bluntly than he would have in front of most people he didn't already call friends, and close friends at that, and it had him anxious that she would write down that she had a weirdo on her hands. But reading her made for a hell of a challenge.

He almost started to explain away some of what he had said, but she beat him to speaking. And apologized. Something for him to appreciate, and he varied the language on one of his patented shrugs enough for her to tell that it was no problem. Getting upset over it did just make him a child, though he wondered if it made him more of a child than having problems with... the sort of thing Luong had done to him. Was he the crazy one and that was just... something that happened? He sure as hell didn't know. Maybe she could tell him that, if nothing else.

Though she was asking about the very thing he had avoided and hit the nail on the head, so he hid beneath his bangs again. No point in lying... to that question, anyway. He tried to figure out her follow-up questions while he spoke. How much did he admit to having no clue anything like that would ever happen to him with a stranger in a wrestling ring?

"Uh... yeah. None of... whatever she claimed to be doing if I... kissed her foot." His voice became almost a whisper on the last three words. He cleared his throat to quickly summon back the volume, add back in some normalcy. "And you're right. I don't come from anyplace where people could get away with doing something like that in a standard match. I'm not stupid, I know what the League's known for, but I wasn't really looking for... that. I just want to wrestle the best competition in the world."

[BlackAkuma]

It took an unreal amount of self-control not to laugh when Storm whispered about kissing the feet, as if it was some insane sexual act and not one of the most benign things that could be done in LAW. She was sorely tempted to tell him that if his time in the league consisted of only kissing women’s toes, he should count himself lucky, but she didn’t want to be cruel. No crueler than necessary.

In fairness, it had to be a shock, coming from most wrestling promotions to something like LAW. There would be an adjustment period.

”There’s nothing wrong with wanting competition. And I’m sure you’ll find it here, too.” An idle hand went to her mouse as she quickly scrolled through her email contacts. An idea was brewing, but she wanted to let it cook more in the back of her mind before she presented it to Storm. ”LAW has some of the greatest wrestlers in the world. The biggest lights, the biggest stage. If what you want is a challenge, you’ll be satisfied here. Eventually.”

She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest, relieving Storm of the burden of diverting his gaze for a few moments. ”I will be honest, though - with this match, you may have painted a target on yourself. In my experience, male wrestlers in LAW fall into one of two categories.” She held up her finger and pointed to the right. ”Serious competitors. Strong fighters who win matches and hold their own and have a decent record.” She pointed the other finger off to the left. ”And then you have the ones that management likes to put in situations where they’re bound to be beaten, knowing they can use their torment to stoke ratings. If they see you as the latter, they could pigeonhole you, and Luong will be the first of many such opponents coming your way.”

It was a dark picture to paint, but she didn’t see the point in sugarcoating it. Storm seemed to sharp for that, anyway. Seemed the type to appreciate bluntness. ”That’s my fear, at least. I’ve seen other tread a similar path.”

[Crossedes]

She had moved from her notepad to the computer. Storm took the chance to eye her as she peered at the screen and wondered whether her taking to the computer was better for him or worse. He also finally got the chance to notice that despite the distraction going on below the neck and the hair covering half of her face, she looked as attractive as any wrestler he had seen in the building - the people they put on TV. Her shoulders looked... strong, too. He wondered if she hadn't retired or... hmm. Whatever the case, it certainly served as a notch in her belt in his eyes if she did have any wrestling experience.

He had looked away again by the time she sat back in her chair, again inadvertently assuring his fascination with her bookshelves despite his not having read the title on a single spine. Too dark to read the titles, anyway, and he certainly didn't care to, anyway, as he absorbed her explanation. He had already picked up on what she described in part during his chat with the people in charge, but of course, they hadn't been willing to spell it out to him so clearly. They probably believed they would run him off, and while he didn't run from problems, he would have to... reconsider his time here.

He wished she wouldn't call it torment, though. Having a reputation as a guy "tormented" by women's sexuality didn't exactly appeal to him. He rubbed his hands on his jeans and tried to sound convincing. "I think torment's a strong word. But is there a way... around it? You're a therapist, and you're looking out for the mental health of League competitors, right? If you send word, is it something you can get changed?"

[BlackAkuma]

There were many ways that Storm could have taken her warnings. Some might have seen it as some kind of insult, writing him off as a jobber. She loathed the terminology, but it was the best fit for the men who found themselves in such a rut, though some of them would hate to be referred to in such a manner, even if the shoe fit. She gauged that Storm’s ego wouldn’t be so eagerly bruised, and she was happy to see her gamble was a safe one. She hadn't lied about liking his attitude.

He was a smart man, so he likely had suspicion from the start, but having those inklings confirmed would no doubt be significant. So, there was the hurdle. How would they get over it?

”I can send a word, yes. But I’m merely a therapist on LAW’s payroll, similar to yourself in many ways - they’ve paid for my advice, but they’re not required to heed it. Like any company, profit is king, and if they think it’s more profitable for you to be in matches with women like Luong…”

She let that thought finish itself, knowing he would need little help filling in the blanks. But she wouldn’t see him thrown to the wolves without so much as a weapon. Not if she could help it.

Alyssa stood and made her way around to him, letting her skirt trail along the carpet as she walked, her feet cast in shadow. She almost seemed to float as she came over to his side. She sat on the edge of her desk and looked down on him, making sure she had the best look at his facial reactions, his breathing, his everything. A dominant position. ”You’ve a unique problem, Storm. Unique problems require unique solutions, and as it so happens, I might have one for you. I won’t lie to you, however. It might require stepping out of your comfort zone and experiencing more of what you faced in that ring. It’s a detour on the path you wanted to go, but if I’m right, you’ll come out where you intended to be.”

[Crossedes]

Storm found the whole situation ridiculous. Again, he had expected precisely what she described - that the executives wanted to profit, and apparently, they had decided that vulgarity profited them more than skilled athletic clashes. He had all sorts of arguments as to why that wasn't always the case. However, not only did he expect no one would listen to those arguments even with so many sports the world over eclipsing wrestling profits without a single case of... facesitting in sight, but he also didn't care to get into debates. He just ran his hand through his hair and nodded a frustrated, begrudging nod. It started to sound like he had no options short of figuring out ways around it.

She stood, and he tensed as she walked over. Initially, the Highlander thought she might plop down beside him, make his attempts to avoid... staring night unto impossible, but she loomed over him from the front of the desk. That... wasn't much better. After having to look up at Luong at the end of that match from his particular position, having to stare up at women didn't do much good for his psyche. Since she had a dress long enough to appear that she didn't have feet, he just stared there, enough for her to know he continued to listen.

But he didn't know if he liked what he heard. Storm glanced up to see her expression as she spoke before sheepishly rubbing at the side of his nose. He had wondered if someone wouldn't basically tell him go hire a prostitute and figure it out, and by all accounts, it sounded like that was what she proposed. The defenses he had prepared for that exact proposition raised, too quickly for him to realize he might be acting on assumption. "If this is about finding a woman to... practice with, I don't exactly have the time or the money-"

He paused in his excuses. "I may be interested in women, but it's not... in... hiring situations."

That couldn't have sounded any more pathetic, he figured.

[BlackAkuma]

Coming from a wrestling background and growing up with it, Alyssa had developed a flair for the dramatic - no small surprise, given her usual attire. She liked to build up to moments and did so without even really thinking about it, often trying to ramp up to revealing moments and give turning points a sense of cinematic panache. It served her well most times, and in others, it simply came off as a harmless quirk that made conversations stretch longer than they needed to. In this case, however, she felt it led to confusion. Just a touch.

She paused when he replied and furrowed her brow, not entirely understanding what he was getting at. For a moment, it seemed as if he’d understood what she was driving at, but then came the mention of money. Nothing she was going to suggest would involve that. His defenses were up, as if she was giving him a suggestion he’d dreaded was coming, and he was talking about hiring someone. Did he…?

She blinked a few times, sat up straight, and cleared her throat, trying her level best to maintain some air of control over the situation. ”Storm,” She tipped her head to the side. “Do you think I’m suggesting you hire a prostitute?”

[Crossedes]

Oh. He hadn't hit the target with that one, had he? Storm initially thought the confusion that flashed across Dr. Crowley's face when he glanced up came from his roundabout way of saying no to the proposition she was making, but a second look told him, no, it wasn't that he hadn't explained himself clearly enough. She had no intention of proposing anything like what he described. The Highlander almost had his excuse locked and loaded by the time she asked her question, and by that point, he was rubbing the back of his neck raw from his embarrassment.

"Something like that," he said, doing his darndest to make it seem like he hadn't jumped off into an entire sea of conclusions. "But only because I've heard it before." Come to think of it, admitting to that did not do him any favors, either. But he had certainly had people tell him to "loosen up" by... hiring someone. Or finding whoever the heck he could on some of the dating services. "And that's just... not my thing," he reiterated. Maybe if he could convince her that it came up all the time, she wouldn't have a laugh over it. Doubtful.

[BlackAkuma]

Oh, dear. That was adorable.

This time, Alyssa couldn't hold back her laugh. It was a short one - more of a chuckle, really - but it came out as a dark deep rumble, and vanity brought a hand to her mouth to cover her childish smile. She comported herself after a moment, coming more in line with etiquette as she spoke. Though not without a hint of amusement. ”No, Storm, nothing of the kind. Though I don’t frown on such practices, for the record. My opinions on sex workers are a discussion for another time, however, and I won’t bore you with it today.”

She settled back on the desk and crossed her legs, shifting them beneath the dark mass of her skirt. ”There’s a tag team. New to LAW. A pair of dominatrices. One of them, Morrigan, is a fairly experienced with wrestling, but the other is new, raw, and untested. She needs a good deal of help on the technical side, and I know they’re looking for outside assistance. The only trouble is, there’s a history of such people reaching out for less benign reasons - wrestlers being drawn into traps under the guise of spars, being bullied, pranks, that sort of thing. They haven’t had much luck finding partners. Too many suspicions.”

She pointed a finger his way, straight at his chest. ”I think the three of you could help each other. If you wish, I could set up a sparring session with them, where you both help each other solve your problems - you work on Morrigan’s technique, give her pointers, and share your knowledge. They help you combat the same sort of sensual approach that Luong brought, give you insight on the way a woman like Luong thinks, what you can expect, and give you room to experiment with that sort of thing in a controlled environment.” She leaned back and shrugged. ”If nothing else, they could give you backup, to help avoid the sort of unwanted interference that plagued your last match. If nothing comes of it, nothing comes out of it, and you’ve only wasted a couple of hours. Minimal risk.”