L.A.W. - League of Anime Wrestling

The neon sign over the arcade would have read ARCADE, except the first A and last E had gone dark. So, RCAD, then, plus some unreadable — for Shimmerlace — katakana below.

Three young men huddled together on the sidewalk outside, their school uniforms tattered and ill-fitting. One them, a tall, gangly kind of guy, more legs than body, flicked a cigarette into the empty street gutter while the rest carried on their conversation in loud, mocking tone.

Shouldn't they be in school? Maybe there was a holidy Shimmerlace the eternal foreigner had missed. Or maybe these boys were playing hookie. It was a shit place to cut school for, this run-down street in the shadow of three and four story concrete apartments, where the paint on the kanji for each store peeled, and the external stairwells were rusted and creaked when tenants walked down them. But then again, nowhere beats home.

As Shimmerlace descended the sidewalk these daytime hooligans, their eyes shifted towards her rose hair and violet costume and lingered. They hushed, and stared, open-jawed.

"Bonjour," said she, hand raised in greeting.

"...Yo." said the tall one, in the guarded tone of one used to being ignored and a preference to remain thus. All three of them squinted. Well, you had to forgive them. It wasn't every day kids got to meet a fairy.

A Fairy

"Right. So, forgive my shit Japanese and all, but," she said in shit Japanese, "I'm here on a mission, and I'd be grateful for your assistance."

The tall one widened his eyes as if she'd just claimed to have pegged his father, which she might well have done. Up close, he had a wide, kind face, with eyes deep like a black well and spiked, bleached hair. He said nothing, though his friend — a fat young man wearing glasses with a layer of smootz on them — had started to pick his ear with a pinkie. Lovely.

"You see, I'm on a hunt. A search. A quest if you will. I'm here for to find...the wolf man."

A dramatic pause followed this revelation.

"Aaaaaah...woof?" said the fat boy. He looked up at his taller friend and said something indecipherable in Japanese before wiping his hand on his shirt.

"Aye! Woof."

Another pause. The three of them seemed to have somehow backed away from Shimmerlace in the interim without her noticing. She huffed, then pulled an image from her jacket, which she shook in their faces.

"The WOLF MAN. The terror of the nighttime Tokyo streets! My intelligence tells me he hails from this community. A ferocious heavyweight of questionable humanity, ruthless and bloodthirsty! You know—AWHOOOOOOOOOOO!"

"Ooooooh." Now big blonde and dumb over here was getting it. Him and his friends. They nodded, grinning as they understood. "Hai. Hai hai hai."

And then they took her shoulder and led Shimmerlace to the secret mythic beast at the center of this neighborhood.

Lycan himself.

He lived deep in the concrete jungle, it seemed, far from even the humble businesses at the edges of this district. As they walked further into the cramped alleyways, the endless rows of apartments began to look cramped even from the outside. The doors for each new home were packed so tightly together, Shimmerlace found it almost impossible to imagine a full home behind each door. Meanwhile, the smell of the place was rotten—vegetables and fruit left in trashbins but not collected for far too long.

But then, all at once, they were there. The door was like any of the others. Unmarked but for a number on three plastic squares punched into the frame. The boys pointed at the door, grinning and chattering, and Shimmerlace could make out the idea. Here. They'd stopped walking several yards back from the door, and as she approached, they did not follow.

"Thank you verrrrrry much, kiddos. You've been wonderful."

Assuming, of course, that the Beast did indeed dwell behind these doors. Well, but she'd know soon enough, as she stepped foward and knocked three times with her whole fist and shoulder.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

Had He ordered food? It was difficult to remember- The barren and poorly lit apartment could easily play tricks on His memory. He sighed loudly before raising Himself up to His feet and walking towards the door; each footstep carrying the weight of somebody who had not seen good sleep in some time.

A lowly humm emanated from His throat as He placed His hand on the door with a hard thud before untangling the mess of locks that secured Him inside of His lair. As the final padlock clicked off the only remaining barrier was the security bolt chain that tightened in place as the door crept open every so slightly.

Inside was pure darkness- maybe some light source from a covered up window or lamp but nothing that permitted much visibility past the first few feet. A large silhouette of a head crept into view through the opening; the only discernible detail being a single blood red eye with a white iris glaring out into the light of the hallway.

She definitely didn't look like somebody here to deliver dinner; frankly it was hard to tell if this was even real at all. The gleaming eye scanned Her up and down briefly before locking in eye contact and addressing Her with a tired, gravely response.

"What."

Ah, a laconic lad was he.

Soon as the door was open, Shimmerlace slipped her foot in the doorway, stepping forward to block the door from slamming back shut. She stared straight into His bloodmoon eye. "Booooy, they did not lie about you being big," she said in a half-whisper as her neck craned towards the obscured face that was decidedly up there. A lopsided grin broke out across her face, and she stuck her tongue between her teeth.

Then the smell hit.

"Chriiiiist on a stick." She closed her eyes, mouth widening. She blinked, swallowed, blinked a few more times. Not that the grin went anywhere. In fact, she almost laughed as everything in her sensory apparatus reeled away from...whatever was in there. "Got a fuckin' body in there, Lycan? Er—not, like, literally. I think. Eh heh."

The kids stood a solid block away from her now but continued to watch. One leaned against the wall of a nearby apartment, and another had lit a cigarette. Meanwhile, a ways down the alley, one of the apartment doors opened and a woman with two jowels and eyes that disappeared into her wrinkled face like two gnarled knots on a tree hobbled out on a walker. When she noticed Shimmerlace – complete with the bright pink hair and floral-patterned wrestling gear — she stopped and stared, her door half-open and resting against her backside.

"Aaaanywho. I guess you could call me a bit of a fan, Lycan ol' boy. Been watching your matches, but eh, I heard you haven't been booked in a while. Which is sooooome kinda bullshit, so I figured I'd find my way to your door and see what's up. Figure out what's with the block on my favorite lupine man of a heavyweight. And you know, if I got to share tea with a fellow professional while I'm at it..."

The way Lycan continued to stare in silence while Shimmerlace talked on and on made her feel uncharacteristically ill at ease. She let her sentence fade, then clicked her tongue. Somewhere, a construction crew started up something, God only knows what, that roared like a chainsaw.

"...Also, seems like something in there needs cleaning up, which. Is a speciality of us fey folk you know. Cleaning that is. So eh," She pressed five fingers gently on the door, peering up for a better look at His face. "Why don't you just invite me in there, ey...Lycan?"

The pink haired Woman babbled on and on for what felt like forever; clearly a follower of His which is presumably how She found where He was currently living as well. The prospect however of somebody actually being His follower or fan was a little foreign to the shadowy figure; as He never gave a single care for what the audience of His matches thought of Him, always presuming it would be a reaction of shock or fear. Truthfully it was just entertaining to Him for there to be a public spectacle to His victories- not that those were anywhere to be found as of late however.

So why this? Why did this fey decide to spend Her time tracking Him down and bothering Him? Figuring Her motivation out sounded like an actually interesting prospect He had to admit, but what interested Him more was if She could fuck off already.

*THNK- THNK-*

The metal door failed to slam itself shut as Lycan intended, instead aggressively shunting against the boot He had not noticed slipped between the open crack. The tired eye stared down at Her foot and then back up to meet Her gaze in a silent plea for Her to get the idea.

When it was clear that wasn’t happening, the gravely voice of the figure piped up again after a exasperated sigh.

“Fuck. Off.”

A slight growl could be heard from His throat as He finished speaking- His best attempt warn off this unwelcome Fey~

THNK.

Shimmerlace whinced the first time. The second time slammed her fist on the doorframe and shot Lycan a look. "Fuck man, that fuckin' hurts!" She shook her head, ran both her hands through her long pink hair, sighed, frowning. Despite all this, she did not move her boot out of the doorway.

"Nyech. Don't worry 'bout it though, I've been through much worse. Aaaaaanywho, so I can tell you're worried about the price. But, see, that's the cool thing yeah—we fairies? We do the spring cleaning for free. Well, mostly free. I guess if you told anyone about me, I'd get to take your first born son. Ehhhh, but I'm pretty sure you don't got one of those though, so it'd just like. Go to default judgment and I get diddly. Buuuut if there is, like, a pup of the Lycan seed in there, we can negotiate."

Shimmerlace had been speaking with her eyes half-lidded, gesturing into space as she leaned her shoulder against the doorframe, but once this idea of Lycan puppies popped into her mind, her eyes opened and she looked up at Lycan with newfound earnestness.

"Fuck. Now I'm kinda hoping there is a firstborn in there..." She bit an index nail, brow furrowed as she imagined the logistics. Her head cocked to one side, then rocked to other, tossing the images to and fro. "The Lyyyyycan Litter. Yeah. I can juuuuust see them, the little muscle-bound wolfe-tongued pups with eyes as big as saucers and teeeeeeeny tiny little wicked toofers with which to BITE YA." To illustrate, she snapped her teeth. Crk! "Maybe two of the wains in diapers, one with the other in a headlock as they vie for living room dominance..."

Her eyes flit up to Lycan. Her jaw snapped shut. She smiled, stiff but wide. For a beat, the only sound was the continued roar of construction somewhere unseen.

"...Yeah you know I'm not going away until you let me in, right?"

She would not stop talking. The Fey continued to babble on endlessly as the shadowy figures patience grew increasingly thinner; what was She even getting at? Was this some kind of pathetic bargain for friendship or flirting?

He couldn’t make two cents of it; the figures body just about began to back off and allow Her to yap through the crack in His door for the rest of the day-

…until She mentioned His “Pups”.

*THUNK*!

The beasts entire form slammed suddenly against the metal door as His outstretched arm shot out attempting to grab the Fey any way it could! The sharp nails of the beast were now prominently visible; as was the rather unkempt appearance of His skin. And now through the dark crack in the door was a more visible expression- The head of a wolf with an enraged look on its face, and exhaustive bags under its eyes.

“Don’t you fucking dare~”

The door slammed Shimmerlace's foot so hard it seemed a physical necessity that something must have snapped, though whether it was the lumber in the door or the bones in Shimmerlace's foot remained unclear. Tears welled in her eyes as her jaw dropped.

"CHRIST—" Her voice peeled out of her throat in something between a sob and a screech.

Despite the unwelcome brine in her eyes, she caught movement in her peripheral vision. She turned her head, saw the kids shuffling—suddenly tall, alert. Buncha fucking meerkats was the image that flit through her brain. The short fat one had his phone out and seemed to be fumbling to get it recording, and the pale, wide-eyed look on his face told her this was more for a potential police report than social media.

"Oi, you fucks—FUCK OFF!" is what she wanted to shout, but she only got to the you fucks portion when the claws tore her blouse and gripped the front-most fabric of her gear. She turned on a dime to face Lycan—her face draining to a zombie-white at the same time that her mouth opened in an ear-to-ear grin.

There was the terrible, animal face. Covered in fur, glowering at her with all the articulation and muscle of a real wolf. She could smell his hot breath, see the thick saliva dripping from one of his huge, bared fangs. Holy mother of petals, but that's a fuckin' amazing mask. She giggled nervously.

"—OK so, like, eh, guess I hit a nerve, yeah? Right, sorry. Soooo, so sorry," she said, speaking very quickly as her eyes flit from claw to snarling face. "...Can we start over?"

"...Can we start over?" The beasts mood did not correlate well with the Fey’s more mischievous attitude. With His nails dug into Her top She was held in place, forced to observe His features up close where He was hoping She may finally realize the error in Her ways. His teeth gritted harshly against one another as He stared at the dumbfound expression of the Fey- The salvia dripping down as He channeled all His anger~

Suddenly He shoved the Fey backwards with all His might, throwing Her away from His door before suddenly SLAMMING it after retreating His arm! A jingling of metal could be heard briefly as He unlatched the bolt that kept the two apart until finally the metal door swung open…

Spoiler

… To reveal a beast.

Lycanstar stood plain as day in the silhouette of the doorway; wearing nothing but a disheveled set of men’s underwear- all His grimey and intimidating glory on display. The fur around His head was visibly unkempt- tough strands stuck together and a clear lack of given care was present across His entire body. His eyes were both tired and alert with a raw anger glaring down now at the bothersome Fey that lay just past His doorstep-

Lycanstar said nothing to the Fey as He approached, His tongue crawled across His teeth as He opened His maw for Her to observe~ A huff of air freeing itself from His nose in a huff as He-

…Stopped suddenly in the midst of His shadow creeping above the Fey’s; turning His head to observe the small crowd that had been watching the scene unfold. A sudden sobering calm came over the beast as He stared dumbfounded for a few seconds; His features dialling down to a less aggressive demeanour as He seemingly lost the script of what to say. Granted it was an awkward thing to be caught in the middle of but… well…

“Um, wrestling business. Don’t mind…”

Well it was the best He could come up with on the spot; given that was probably how the Fey even knew Him in the first place. “Come on get the fuck inside already, you’re fucking things up for me bad.” Lycan hurriedly walked over to the Fey and yanked at Her arm to lift Her to Her feet before hastily escorting Her into the dark void of His apartment- practically shoving Her inside before following along with a frustrated growl emanating from His throat.

*SHNT!*
The door slammed shut.

Shimmerlace had seen this scene in the movies. The intrepid but arrogant professor-slash-general at last confronts their Moby Dick, their hulking beast of prey—only to realize too late how small they are before the majestic terrors of its maw.

She felt alive for every second of the standoff. Yeah, there was a sheen of sweat all over her face, and when he snuffed his beastly breath and made her hair blow like willow-vines in the wind, her fingers started to tremble—until she bunched them up in fists and steeled herself to fight.

But the overwhelming, dominant feeling coursing through her veins was a kind of joy.

How in FUCK sake did the mask designers articulate the tongue like that?!

But then tedious reality reasserted itself in the form of the fucking kids. It was like watching a T-rex shrink down into fluffy ol' Mike Sullivan. Wrestling business. Is that what was ruining her encounter with the beast that had so thoroughly, so sensuously destroyed Alice Luminous? She rounded on the kids.

"Hey, eh, thought I told you brats to scram, yeeeah? The fuck are you—"

Yoink.

And then her feet weren't on the ground. She looked down at her toes. They were just...hanging there. Yup, Lycan had just lifted her by her arm like a stray toy. Huh. Probably not wise to struggle, ey? The last thing she saw were the three pairs of wide, terrified eyes. These were not the eyes, she realized, of kids who saw ol' Lycanstar on the regular—people who saw him drag stray women into his lair every Tuesday for tea and biscuits. Here was shock. Here was the tall one smacking the fat one on his shoulder, too scared or excited or something to talk. It was like they'd never seen the wolfman before—like they were witnessing an urban legend turned to flesh.

Thnk.

And then there was darkness. Shimmerlace felt her boots press into the ground. Carpet? It felt soft. Probably carpet. Either that or the pelt of some unlucky prey.

The room in which Shimmerlace found herself was oppressively dark—the kind of dark where her eyes tried to adjust, and the dilation of her pupil only made black stars dance at the edge of her flattened vision. The smell hit her like a shovel across her face, a stench so thick she could taste it, wet in her mouth.

"Hrk—"

Both her hands flew to her face, flicking away the tears before covering her snout. No, she was not about to let LYCANSTAR. THE FERAL BEAST. See tears on her face...even if they were (mostly) just a response to the crusty musk.

Deep breaths. That'll get you nose blind. Eventually.

(and also slow down the old ticker, which was hammering in her chest)

"S-sorry about the peanut gallery..." she muttered into the thick black. "Genuinely. I did tell 'em to fuck off. But, you know. People get curious."

She considered adding more, but as she ran her tongue over the bottom of her teeth and knit her brow thinking it over, she realized begging him not to eat her would probably just put the idea in his head. And anyway, she'd look like a pussy, which—felt realistic at the moment, but. Hey. Fake it 'till you make it, right?

Lycan and the Fey were now alone; only a single musty window allowing the slightest amount of light to peek through and join them. In the darkness around the front door, Lycan’s head was once again covered in shadow; only His beaming red eyes cutting through as He glared at the Fey that foolishly stumbled into His business. What was He feeling? It was difficult to tell through the dark- was He enraged at Her? Prepared to pounce at a moments notice? Perhaps He was unexpectedly turned on from the seemingly random prey that entered His life… or maybe-

*click*

Lycan hit the light switch to reveal His almost annoyed looking stare- the features of His disheveled state prominently visible to the Fey who lay on His carpet. A deep, deep sigh emanated from the beast as He looked at the Fey like some kind of chore. What was He even supposed to do about this?

“So what, you’re a fan or something? You need to get your fucking eyes checked.”

The interior of His apartment was devoid of the expected furnishings most people would consider essential- The dim light revealed a single blanket on the carpeted area facing towards a TV that looks like it hadn't seen use since 2007. The kitchen had only the bare essentials that came with the apartment itself- a fridge and counters, a few cans and protein bars spread around haphazardly without a single cooking utensil in sight. And them the coup de grace- the “Bedroom” which consisted of a single mattress with a pillow. Next to the tv.

Aside from some random workout equipment such as a set of dumbbells and a barbell; that seemed to be it. Prison may be a better alternative living space but for Lycan it seemed to be all He needed. The smell was something Lycan hadn’t considered in quite some time- but opening a window was hardly an option.

Not one for having good manners for entertaining guests, Lycan went right to business as He towered over the downed Fey- squatting down directly in front of Her to ensure She was getting the full picture of who She was dealing with~

“Who the fuck are you?”

Lycan’s hot breath passed through His wide maw as He spoke- the uncomfortable silence of the barren room causing every exhale He took to be heard as if He was doing it straight into Her ear~ His chest raised up and down slowly as His annoyed gaze studied Her from head to toe; trying to just figure out what exactly this perfect looking princess thought She was doing by coming to His den. Hopefully those were tears of regret starting to form and He could be rid of Her as soon as She almost ruined His inconspicuous status in this place.