Once upon a time there was a large house with a large family, in the middle of the countryside. Among the many sons and daughters and cousins and uncles who dwelt in the house, there was a man, a kindly and patient gardener (though his father had wanted him to become a warrior). He fell in love with a woman, strong-willed and quick tempered (whose father had wanted to become a docile wife). Through countless battles of wills and desperate pleas to the heads of house, the family allowed the man and wife to be wed.
The man and woman tried many times to have a child, without luck. Then, one day, an old woman appeared in the village. Her face bored deep scars. Her hands were gnarled. Her breathe reeked. She went from door to door, begging for scraps, but all turned away from her in fear. When she approached the very large house on top of the hill, the kindly man and the fierce woman answered her pleas with compassion. The man took her to the garden and allowed her to take as much as she needed. Yet, the woman accepted only one, ripe, juicy tomatillo. When the men in the village came to the door to demand the woman be thrown out beyond the boundaries, the woman there chased them away from her doorstep, allowing the old woman safe passage into the night.
Before she left, the very old woman thanked the man, telling him, 'what is grown here, is grown with love.' She blessed the man and woman thrice, and told them that 'roses would grow here forever more', and that they would have a child within a year. The woman vanished into the night.
Sure enough, the woman fell pregnant and gave birth to a daughter. From her cradle, and eruption of roses bloomed. The vines and roots covered the floors, ran out the doors and windows, and took hold of the garden. The family rejoiced, and ever since, has been in the business of selling flowers.
As for the daughter...
"Rosa?"
The young woman with the rose hairclip tying back her ponytail turned to her cousin. She had, for a moment, forgotten where she was.
"What were you and John Henry talking about?" she said blankly, unable to remember how long she'd been standing in the corner watching the others, without saying much of anything to anyone.
Rosa's cousin spoke quickly. "Just training."
Victor was persuasive. It was part of his power, after all. He could give one's emotions a gentle 'push' in a positive direction. Rosa narrowed her eyes. His charms did not work on her. It was more than 'just training', she knew. Even with his face hidden behind a mask, she could see his copper-warm skin was a shade or two paler. She also knew that attempting to rip the information would be as easy as lifting this whole damn reception hall up off its foundations.
The old room in Mexico City was warm and low lit, with walls and floors soaked deep with the scent of cigarettes, coffee, and beer. Bodies in casual dress, taking plastic cups of beer lined up on the tables. Folding chairs. Happy voices speaking in Spanish and English. Tinny, mariachi music pumped in over the speakers.
Friends. Family. Rivals.
A lover. Well, former lover...
Rosa broke away from Buck's intense stare, halfway across the room. "Sorry," Rosa said, turning to a stack of paper plates. "I was zoning. I should eat." There were trays of seasoned meats and piles of tortillas. It was a simple feast.
Victor, wearing a violet button-up (dams threatening to buckle under a pectoral deluge) crossed his arms and gave his cousin a knowing look from behind his regal mask.
"You were looking at Buck."
Rosa nearly dropped her lime into the trey of pibil. "I was not," she choked. She pretended to put together a plate. "He was...looking at me."
Which was technically true. Every where she walked, Rosa felt Buck's handsome scowl and dark eyes on her back. She had attempted several times to force herself into a conversation with others, but luck was against her this evening. Spike and Kengo were together, preoccupied with their favorite subject: food. It was a miracle that the later, large and shy, didn't creep off back to the hotel, with how many men and women came up to him to grab his muscles or admire his size.
Even Cian, normally reserved, was unusually animated. His personality had shifted slightly since Vegas, Rosa thought. He looked to be in deep conversation with Gio. Per usual, the giant Italian wrestler had worn his best suit and tie. As he passed, typically shy Gio raised his wine glass to Rosa, who felt herself blush. She wasn't sure why.
"I forgot you two minded the GSA garden," Victor mentioned, casually, picking a piece of fuzz of his button-up shirt.
"At different times, yeah. Buck, Gio, and I all had different schedules. Sometimes we'd overlap though." She thought back for a moment to the last time she'd actually had a conversation with Gio, and laughed. "He gets so talkative when you get him on a subject. I'm always interested. I love that about him, how passionate he is. Wish I'd gotten to know him better, I guess..."
Everywhere Rosa turned, it seemed, there was someone she wanted to talk to...but the barrier was too great to surmount. Even her (and Viki's) own grandfather, the 'Rey del Reys' holding audience over the whole affair, had all the big names in spellbreaking orbiting around him like a sun. He would be impossible to get hold of. Indeed, Calavera Escarlata, in his perpetually flaming mask, burned brightly. It had been ages since Rosa had last seen her grandfather, and so the years put upon his body were more apparent than usual. He had gained some weight in the belly and arms. His hunch, a result of an earlier injury, was more pronounced. But there was no doubt, his aura alone, the way others looked upon him with sheer reverence, cemented that Calavera was still a god in the pantheon of spellbreaking.
The man of the hour, humble in his own way, talked animatedly with Colt and Gloria, whose gifts granted everyone in the room, regardless of language, the ability to understand each other (unless they deliberately turned their minds off to the power). Rosa would have gladly listened to Gloria go on and on about art and photography, but she was captive to Colt's charms. Even when the boss man wasn't being an open flirt, he always needed to have a woman at his side. It was surprising, in a good way, that he had never once come off as lecher to her. Rosa had always seen him as another uncle. Part of the family. Hell, she'd probably miss him more than Buck.
It was so odd to her, this night. All the elements were in place for Rosa to enjoy a final send-off before Japan. The GSA had gotten into Mexico City earlier that afternoon. But aside from a cursory hug and catch-up with her grandfather, the plant-wielding spellbreaker hadn't spoken to any of her extended family. Better for it, she thought. Calavera (whose true name, like Viki's she knew and kept secret within her heart) had an uncanny knack for backhanded compliments. He was part of that old guard, the boys club of yore, who felt no need to regulate his language.
Your powers are formidable, Rosita. If only you were born a man. You might have been champion...
Unlike most of these hair-trigger lunkheads, Rosa's anger was cold and restrained, rarely expressed outside of the ring. It would be too easy for these idiots to accuse her of being 'too emotional'. Only Calypso, her close friend, understood the separate languages and customs among lady spellbreakers. Compared to their male peerage, they were outnumbered.
Which is why she had gotten involved with Buck in the first place. His 'royal' bloodline had made no difference to her. In fact, it was his lack of magick and ties to spellbreaking (save for the obvious) that made her feel safe with him.
Now? It wasn't even a lack of safety. She'd always trust Buck. It was the feeling of 'nothing' that scared her. Was she being cold because it was easier than the alternative? Did she really want to go over to Japan, to Okami? Was she doing this because she had something to prove, to Colt, to her grandfather, to herself? A thousand questions stung at her mind like hornets, and she wished to drown them all in alcohol.
She went for a pitcher brim full of margarita, but suddenly stopped. Something tugged on her heart. She knew this feeling. It was partially her own self-control telling her 'not a good idea', but she felt Viki pushing against her will too. She recognized his magick's signature.
Annoyed, she whipped around and glared. "Yes? Can I help you?". They had only known each other as children but briefly, but even when Viki returned from 'the underworld' (not literal, but close enough) he had a habit of always 'conscience' checking her, like the friendly cricket from Pinocchio in giant, muscled-out stripper form.
Victor ignored her lash. "I take it you talked and broke things off amicably, pobrecita?"
Rosa snapped back to reality, deciding to go with the path of least resistance. "As amicable as we could," she shrugged. "I really wanted to be excited, coming back here. Seeing abuelo. But..."
"Your heart is heavy." He nodded.
"Ugh. How would you know?" She turned away. I need to be drunk. Now.
No.
"It's....literally my power." He laughed, and placed his hand on her shoulder affectionately. "You're doing great."
"Really? You think this is great?" She laughed, but decided there was no use being a brat. No winning this wrestling match. Not against king hunk here.
So, she decided to turn the questions against him. "Does it hurt, Viki? I never asked you what it was like to always feel people's emotions all the time? You know, a lot of people say they're empaths..."
"A lot of people say a lot of bullshit," Viki laughed. He gave the question some thought. Even though many were drawn to Victor's magnetism, he was never what you'd call the life of the party', usually preferring to let his sociable better half, Iggy, run interference for him.
"Yes," he answered, fairly. "It is a lot of pain sometimes. But that's okay. I do not try to make people feel better because it takes away my pain. I try to make them feel better because I know what the hurt is like. Your heart will heal too, Rosa."
Great, now I'm gonna cry instead of rage. She positioned herself so her back was facing the room, just in case the dams did break and she made a mess of herself. Should that happened, she would trust Victor with her tears.
"I'm so afraid, Viki. I feel like I'm in over my head. Okami? That's...that's insane, right? Japan?"
"You will be amazing."
"I will be alone."
"Yes," Victor answered, without malice. "For a little while, maybe. But you'll make friends. You've very likable. And..." he took a deep breath, almost as if he regretted furthering the conversation. "I...happen to know that your love destiny lies with someone else."
It was such a left-field (yet very Viki statement) that Rosa felt like he'd just roundhouse kicked her in the face. She laughed, this time going for the margarita for real. Better to drink when the mood was good. "Heh, they say that about you, don't you? That you can tell who people will fall in love with."
"Except for myself, that is." Viki smirked. Then, slowly, he nodded to his left. Rosa followed him with her eyes, over to Cian and Gio loudly, fake-fighting over soccer (the Irish and Italian boys naturally bonding over that subject).
"Cian?" Rosa snorted, nearly spitting out her drink. "Don't be crazy. If Spike didn't want to kill him half the time, he would have probably dragged him out of the closet by now. Besides, we've never said much to each other."
"Rosita, I d-"
"How about...Spike?" Rosa stammered, preferring to change the subject. Shit, I'm turning red. Cian is kinda hunky though. Thickest white boy I've ever seen...
"Spike!? Rosa, you cannot say Cian is gay and then go after Spike!"
"No, you himbo! I meant, who is Spike gonna end up with? One of us? A fanboy?"
"Ohhhhh." Viki slapped his head, laughing at the miscommunication. "Hmm. Sailorboy, eh? I think he'll fall in love with just about everyone! But...the 'big' boyfriend? I see...two possibilities. One on our roster. And one not yet."
Vague and mysterious as always. Rosa took another contemplative sip. It was a bad margarita, but even a bad margarita was a good margarita. "But someone he already knows, right?"
The tall luchador smiled and made a zipping motion across his thick, Cupid's bow lips.
For Knox over here. "Ugh, you're so frustrating. I hope you lose your next match." Joking, of course, and feeling almost better (thanks, tequila) Rosa melted back into the crowd. "Calypso! Your dress looks amazing...Wait, you two broke up!?"
"Goddess, this humidity." Spike tried patting down his curly, blonde hair, which was starting to turn into a full mane. Looking at himself in the bathroom mirror, he attempted to slick his hair back with water, to no avail. He sighed, staring down into the solo cup he'd perched on the cracked, porcelain sink. He wished Joseph, AKA White Tiger, was here tonight. He would have been the perfect 'calm down' person to talk to right about now while he recharged his batteries. Unfortunately (or fortunately) Joseph had ducked out early to go do a promo with the local fed. He was always working, that one.
Splash.
Spike looked down. A puddle of water spread across the bathroom tile.
"Ugh. Fuckin' hell. Where's the plumber?" But, for once in his life, Spike was observant. The water wasn't coming from beneath one of the sinks, or the stalls, but under the bathroom door. From the outside.
"Huh?"
A low, masculine sob precipitated the door throwing itself open. An inch-high wave of water followed Dragon Azul, AKA Blue Dragon, as he threw himself into the room and into Spike's unwitting arms.
"BRO, SHE DUMPED ME BRO! AAAUUUUUGGHHH!"
Spike blinked. Suddenly, he was very wet. As in, soaked. He'd never seen cool-headed Blue Dragon in such a state, weeping so hard that his water magick was out of control.
"BD when I said your smooth moves make me wet, I didn't mean like this!" Spike held his trembling friend. His flirty humor wasn't landing. Shit. First Rosa and Buck. Now Calypso and BD? Is love even real? This is why relationships should only between a man and a man, just like the Goddess intended...
"B-bro," BD sobbed, wiping tears off his mask. "I...I can't go out there like this. Not in front of Calavera! No in front of El Amante. L--l-luchadors don't cry."
"I'm...sure they do. I'm sure you guys have the full range of human emotions. Just, y'know, behind...a mask?"
Spike staid with Blue Dragon for awhile, trying to console him, at least until BD could use his magick to make Spike's clothing dry again. Once collected, the chill water magi slinked out of the room and back around to the bar at the front of the hall. Spike, sighing, grabbed his drink and exited into the corridor between the bathrooms and the reception hall.
"Golly..." Spike threw back his tequila-soda, leaning against the bricks. He brushed back his wet hair, annoyed. "This night is a bummer. Can't I just have one nice thing, huh? That so hard?"
"Hi, cutie."
Spike looked up. And he nearly dropped his cup. Standing in front of him was a beefy, broad shouldered guy, around his age. He was dressed in a teal and mint hockey jersey, a beautiful contrast against an ochre complexion. His eyes, his smile, were beautifully masculine. He had a cool air of confidence and knowing.
Spike suddenly felt very small and shy. In a good way.
The jock gave him a 'sup' head nod. "Hey, I'm Robbie. Wanna make out?" His voice was a bit lighter than Spike expected, with a slight accent that Spike couldn't exactly place. Midwestern? ...Minnesotan?
"Uh..." Spike lowered the cup and looked around, just to make sure this was happening. He blinked. Cian was preoccupied with Gio. This couldn't be one of his illusions. This was real.
So, the Sailorboy did his thing and turned on the Adonis charm. He gave Robbie a deliberate looking up and down before leaning in close. "Yeah?"
The jock smiled and pressed his lips against Spike's, moving his hand slowly up his neck, putting his fingers under his chin....before slamming Spike against the wall and going harder, tongue on tongue, in lustful aggression.
Holy fuck this is happening. Spike groaned, trying to breathe. This was one aggressive customer. It had been a long time since he'd man-handled rough by a jock like this. It was most welcome.
Spike eventually used his strength and pushed Robbie off him, back against the other wall, which was enough to impress the amorous stud and give Spike a 'hot damn' in a glance. He took his turn on him. Pressing his face close, looking up with flirty, eyes, drawing Robbie's mouth closer to his before pulling away.
"Grrrowl!" Robbie, relishing the little flirt, growled and forced Spike's lips back onto his. Just as Spike intended. They played tonsil hockey for awhile.
Finally, Spike drew back. He looked up, thinking hard. "Hmmm...Canadian! That's a first."
Robbie blinked. "Wow. Wow, you're good." His jaw slackened, in that 'himbo bro' kind of way that drove Spike wild. "Okay, okay, but First Nations Canadian to be specific, bro."
"Bro?" Spike laughed. Who was this character? He was too much! Oh no, I think I'm in love. "Hahah. Sorry, Robbie, are you a spellbreaker or a fan?"
Though he was a bit of an oversized goof, Robbie had a killer poker face. "Heh." He pointed to the cup in Spike's hands. "Your drink looks like it needs some freshening, pup. Here. Give it to me. Promise I won't do anything freaky to it."
You can do freaky things to me, Spike thought, slyly, handing to him.
Without breaking eye contact (man, even his dark eyebrows were hot!) Robbie leaned forward and blew on the drink. A wave of frost, like grass on a winter morning, travelled across the cup, making diamond patterns across the rim. The liquid inside remained unfrozen, and had Spike just been a little more perceptive, he might have correctly assumed that meant Robbie's magick was dangerously precise.
Robbie handed it back to Spike. He gave him a wink.
"Wow." Spike gulped. "That's...cool."
Robbie playfully flicked Spike's nose. "I'm all about cool, cutie."
"You...frosted my rim."
"Not yet."
Spike's mouth dropped open. He laughed, scandalized.
"Better close that mouth cutie," Robbie said, turning away before Spike could say anything. "Or I might just need to put something in it. Catch you later, eh?"
The stud jock walked off, leaving Spike in the dark, mouth still hung open.
"S-Spike horny..."
Rosa, exiting the lady's room, saw Spike standing against the wall like an idiot and decided to flick his ear, snapping him out of his hunk reverie. "Spike WHAT!?"
Turning red, Spike looked away. "Oh! Sorry. I was erm. I was just looking for the restroom."
"Inside Robbie Whitewolf's mouth?" She leered mischievously.
"I-I-I don't know!" Spike stuttered, looking at her, then back at Robbie as he went up to a sullen, forlorn looking Blue Dragon, desperately clutching a beer.
He giggled. "Rosa. Who was that?"
Rosa rolled her eye. She looked like a woman on the verge of a migraine. "Spike...chico bonito....before you showed up, there were two oversexed stud bulls on the GSA ranch. Buck, who I managed to tame, and...Robbie Whitewolf. He's one of the Prodigal Nightmares. He's cocky. Callous. Reckless. A bully...."
"And fucking amazing in bed."
Spike and Rosa both turned their heads towards Buck, black tie hanging around his neck, the top of his collared shirt unbuttoned, revealing his slender, gold chain. He was only buzzed, but he gave them both his 'bedroom eyes'.
Spike grinned, gleeful that his hunk fortunes had turned around on a dime. Rosa, however, was not at all amused.
"Goddess, Buck. Ever heard of tact?"
He shrugged. "Don't know her. And don't tell my dad about Robbie! Look, that Canadian stallion is...persuasive. But a fuckboy knows another fuckboy, so I knew he was bad news." Sheepishly, and not looking at her, Buck continued. "If it hadn't been for Rosa, actually, I would have been on the course for heartbreak. I'm glad I chose right."
Her face was a blank. "Buck..." she said softly. She shook her head. "Chose? Heh. I chose you."
"Oh, wow," Spike said. "How are you doing with the breakup, by the way, Buck?"
"Spike, I'm literally standing right here." Rosa grabbed the drink out of his hand and took a gulp.
"Do you even know what's in that?"
"Nope."
Buck sighed and pulled up the bottle of tequila he'd been hiding behind his back. "I think I'll return to this badboy. Look, Calavera is about to make some kinda' speech. I'm gonna...go."
Rosa made sure to finish her drink. "Great," she said, sarcastically. "I'm...gonna go make sure I get a seat in the way back. You two boys...don't do something stupid." She walked off, coldly, leaving Spike and Buck biting their lips with worry and guilt. "And DON'T go back to the hotel with Robbie, Spike! YOU TOO, BUCK TAMBERLY!!!!"
"We're doing a bit better," Buck said to Spike in a low voice.
Spike could smell the liquor off him. "She seems like she doesn't want to be here. I feel bad. This city was her home, right? I wish I could do something."
Buck gently cuffed him on the shoulder. "Nah." He suddenly sniffed the air. "You smell like either cheap cologne or body spray. Like the kind I used to wear when I was--OHHhhhh, Robbie did the thing, didn't he?"
"The...thing?"
"Slammed you up against the wall and...lrlrlrlrl" Buck began making wild motions with his tongue. It was enough to make Spike laugh. "Don't go breaking his pelvis now, stud. I hear he's gonna fight T. Rex soon! Hey, if you nab Robbie, can I have 'Sexy Rexy'? I'm actually a huge fan of his!"
"Me too!" Spike said, starry-eyed. "I have his 'Big Bad Dino Daddy' shirt. I turned it into a crop top."
"He'd probably be flattered to hear you say that. Before he drove you through a table. Or tried to eat you..."
Perhaps Spike was still feeling flirty (and a bit annoyed he hadn't 'sealed the deal' with Robbie), or a bit drunk, but he took hold of the moment and gave Buck his best smolder. "You know. I'm...a lot to eat, Buck."
"And how..." Buck laughed. But...that lip bite.
That. Lip. Bite.
it was followed by a disappointing, teasing punch to the shoulder again. "Er. But for the sake of our friendship, maybe try to avoid me once I start downing this tequila." He walked away. "Goddess knows if I messed up with someone again, Rosa and Dad would both kill me."
Once again, Spike was left in the back. In the dust. Deeply confused and longing. "...Friendship?"
Sigh.
From her seat in the back of the reception hall, Rosa watched as Robbie led Blue Dragon, drunk and giggling by the hand, to the exit door.
"You sure this is cool, bro?"
"Hahah. Yeah bro. Just like...you know...don't tell anyone, okay?"
"Bro!"
"Bro."
Rosa sighed. The 'Bros'. Of course. Looks like this is a night of stellar choices...
"What are you doing sitting in the back, Rosita?"
By now, everyone had begun to take their seats. Calavera, with hands patiently on knees, was seated next to Colt. The two kings on their thrones. Three, if you counted Mr. Iron.
Rosa didn't want to breach the subject. She wished Viki would just let her sulk in peace. "I feel like the pressure is on our backs, V."
"Pressure?"
"As heirs to this crazy dynasty of ours."
"Heh. Ours is an interesting family, no?"
"Abuelo looks at you like you're the last pride and joy, V. My brothers were supposed to take on this legacy." She shook her head. "Not me."
"But...he has pride in you too!"
"Abuelo is a good guy, don't get me wrong. I love him. But you know how he's from that generation. I've heard him laugh at the idea of lady spellbreakers before. It's been easier for you."
"It has not been easy."
Rosa flinched. Viki was calm and patient. To a point. But once his limits were breached, he made it known.
Sitting beside her, he took a deep breath and folded his hands in his lap. "Rosita, please. Do you know how many years I was by myself, doing stupid shit for Los Venoms? You knew what happened before I came back to La Colina de Rosas. I would have killed to have the upbringing you did. Surrounded by love. I was...so alone."
The tone in his voice. The way he spoke the word 'alone'. It hurt Rosa's heart to hear it.
"I'm...sorry. I'm an idiot."
"No, you aren't. You're just in a mood." He patted her on the hand. "And that's fine."
She stood up. He stood up with her. She nodded for them both to take seats closer to the front. She was ready now.
As Calavera began, his eyes fell upon his granddaughter and grandson. There was a twinkle behind his mask. A spark.
Calavera Escarlata, with mask a gentle ember, was not from a time when spellbreakers were booming showman. His voice was softer than most expected. Rough with age. But knowing, and warm.
"First, I want to thank the champion of my heart, my brother forever, who brought all of this together. A man as handsome as he is powerful, whose generosity and kindness is only exceeded by his muscles."
Next to him, Colt's eyes swelled with tears of pride. "Aw, shu--"
Calavera gestured to the large man sitting across from him. "John Henry Iron!"
The whole room erupted into laughter, masking Colt's well-meaning, "You sonuva!"
The seasoned spellbreaker laughed back. "Oh, there you are, Colt! I was wondering why the temperature in the room changed. Try not to get too hot under the collar, amigo, as I did not bring my umbrella!"
Rosa giggled into her cousin's ear. "Wow, he's busting his balls." A few seats away from her, Buck (who, after being scolded by his Colt, had ditched the tequila) relished in the celebratory ribbing of his father.
"To be serious though," Calavera Escarlata went on, "I need to thank you, Colt, as well as everyone else who showed up here tonight. A lot of people say that Spellbreaking has changed. I do not see this as a bad thing at all. Every art under the sun, from ballet, football, what have you, has gone through an evolution. I know it must sound rich coming from an old guy to say that, but it's true. I admit. I may have not always been open to change, but..." he trailed off, his mask turned slightly.
Only Rosa and Viki caught that he was looking over at them.
"I think if you do not keep an open mind, you risk getting left behind in the past. I look around here and I see so much promise. Every one of you is a new kind of spellbreaker, with a unique background. Colt, you have raised them all well."
It was unusual to see the great Calavera Escarlata hesitate, with trembling lip. He was emotional. Some, sitting in the room, even exchanged glances of concern.
"I don't usually engage in nepotism, but..." He looked over, deliberately, at where Victor and Rosa were sitting. "Victor, my grandson...I know the road you have travelled has been hard, harder than it should have been. Now, look how much of a hero you've become."
This was too much for Rosa. As soon as his head was turned, she gracefully sat up and began to make her way around the back.
"And Rosita...my granddaughter?"
She froze. All eyes were on her. "What?"
"Hahaha. Where are going, mihija? I was just about to throw myself at your feet!"
The room laughed, gently. That was enough permission for Rosa to turn back and give her grandfather attention. It was awkward, so many eyes on her. She was supposed to be the bad girl. The villain. The femme fatale. Vulnerability didn't suit her...
"I would have never thought I'd live to see the day my own granddaughter not only became a top billed spellbreaker, but got to take her talents overseas as well. I think you deserve to be recognized for the doors you are opening."
A hush fell over the room. Rosa thought she even heard someone, maybe Spike, choke on their tears. Her eyes scanned over Buck, whose gaze was downcast, at his feet. He looked...uncomfortable.
Rosa faced her grandfather. "Thank you." She smiled, brushing a stray strand of black hair out of her face. "Wow. I...I don't know what to say?"
"You don't need to say anything," Calavera grunted. "Just don't disappoint me!"
The jab broke the tensions. She laughed. Something shifted. Even though she wanted to cry (it had already been a taxing evening as it were) she hid it behind a smile. "Thank you."
Calavera's flame took on a new burn, that of cool, blue tongues of fire intermingling with the reds and yellows. He was content. "Well, enough mushy stuff! I hate talking, so I'll wrap this--"
The sound of doors slammed open stole Calavera Escarlata's captive audience. A peel of chittering, maniacal laughter drew their attention to the latecomers. Most uninvited guests.
Three tall, strong figures loomed over the confused, muttering audience. The tallest, dressed in a black duster jacket (like a real outlaw) and wearing a snake-like mask, motioned for his two cadre, a masked dinosaur styled spellbreaker, as well as a dark, bat-masked minion with a cape shaped like leathery wings. It was the later who had made that awful, cackling laughter.
Stone faced, and eyes full of thunder, Colt began to stand...before a firm, gentle push from Calavera told him to cool his head.
"Well, well, well..." the leader of the trio said, extending his arms out dramatically to the mixed company.
It took Rosa a moment or two before she put the pieces together. "Oh, shit."
"Is this...part of the act?" Spike whispered to Buck, some few feet away.
Rosa wished she had the magick of invisibility, like that bastard Camazotz. This was bad. It wasn't so much what the three, sinister spellbreakers could do that scared her (though that was plenty bad enough), but the history they shared with a good many strong personalities in the room.
Rosa turned to her cousin, hoping to draw strength from him. But his knuckles were white, balled up with rage. "Los Venoms," he seethed.
Few at the GSA knew about El Amante's involvement with one of spellbreaking notorious rudo stables this side of the Rio Grande. Soon, no doubt, they would. In fact, Rosa watched Colt's head turn in their direction. Victor was the first person he thought to protect.
Serpent dragged his hand across his nose, relishing the shocked expression of the unwitting audience. The tip of his tongue flicked out every few seconds, like a lizard testing the air. The bane of Calavera Escarlata, and Colt's former nemesis, pulled a spare folding chair into the center of the circle and took a well-positioned seat across from the veteran spellbreaker. His two men flanked him. Across the way, Calavera's flames flickered, intensifying, though his expression remained remarkably controlled.
Rosa understood. It wasn't Serpent who Victor was glaring daggers at, but his bat-themed accomplice. The minion and his buddy kept close to their master, but did all they could to leer and grin maliciously at their onlookers.
"Sorry," Serpent said, mockingly, spreading his thick legs. "I mistook this for a nursing home! After all, there are so many washed up spellbreakers here."
You could hear a pin drop. Nobody knew what to do. What to say. Slowly, all eyes were on Colt. The leader of the GSA. He crossed his arms and scowled at the newcomer.
"Rodrigo. You're the same age as me. Who's old, again?"
Serpent's snake-eyes enlarged. The rest of the room collectively gasped or cursed.
"Oh shit," Rosa muttered under breath. "He just called him by his civilian name. Not good."
"Hmmm." Serpent's tongue flicked Colt's way. "My handsome vaquero. So bold." With the sudden crack of a whip, Serpent turned his attention towards Victor. "And my, my. El Amante. How you've grown! Still the ladykiller? Or, mankiller, right?
"Who invited you?" Victor said. His voice was quiet and cold. Even Rosa flinched.
"Los Venoms go where we please," Serpent spat. "I came here tonight hoping to check out the competition. But...hmm...looks like there just isn't much here."
Calavera broke the tension with a long, hearty laugh. He slapped his knees, as if his former rival's entrance was nothing but a lark. He was honored by the spectacle, even! The spellbreaker in the bat mask snarled, but the one in the dinosaur mask returned the laugh, until Serpent shot him a warning look.
It finally clicked. The Jurassic looking hunk (and he did have quite the attractive body) was T. Rex. He'd made a big name for himself in the South American feds. Blue Dragon talked about him all the time, with a mix of excitement and fear. As far as Rosa was aware, he was a bit of a lone wolf, so what was he doing with a controlling boss like Serpent?
Calavera stood and approached his rival. Everyone in the room flinched. Were they about to witness a fight?
"Serpent! Ah, you grace us with your scaly presence. What a showman!" He extended his hand.
Everyone held their breath.
With a sneer that could slice the room in two, Serpent slowly returned the gentleman's greeting. "Calavera. You're too kind. I'm surprised you still do these things in mask."
"It has not been taken from me yet," the fiery spellbreaker retorted. "I assure you, amigo, nobody wants to see my ugly mug under this thing! As for you, I happen to know you are quite handsome. Well, you would be without those creepy eyes of yours! Hahaha!"
The others in the room joined in on the joke. He was brilliant, Rosa thought. He'd defused the situation and put Serpent on the backfoot. The leader of Los Venoms did not look amused.
He turned, instead, to a new target. "Ah, speaking of handsome men...isn't that your father's mask, Little Viki?" He folded his arms, smugly. "Or should I say, your mother's husband. I forget that you aren't really related to the Rivera-Rosado family after all."
Spike was the first to blurt out, "Wait, what?"
Sensing disaster, Rosa reached out for her cousin's arm. "Viki, don't...."
He ripped away. Trembling with rage, not a normal emotion of the self-proclaimed Warrior of Love, Victor stood, towering over the others. His magick in full effect, the mood in the room changed. But this time, it was not atmosphere of love he brought down. Everyone in the room shifted, feeling Viki's rage at once. Cian cracked his neck, like a fighter ready to throw down. Spike clenched his fists. Kengo narrowed his eyes. Iggy, on the other side of the room (and already deeply protective of his lover) glowed red-hot red. Colt was the most effected. His hair, charged with static, stood on end. Only Mr. Iron appeared nonplussed.
Serpent grinned. Rosa wasn't the only one who realized what he was doing, however. John Henry got off his chair and walked behind Colt. He didn't do or say anything. Just watched. They had been tag partners, long ago, and Rosa had heard stories of Mr. Iron being the cooler-headed of the two, always pulling his partner out of fights. She eased up a little, but the scent of super-charged magick in the room was now very intense, enough that even the non-magickally inclined could feel it on their skin.
"Out of my way," Victor shouted, causing everyone sitting on either side to push away. He pointed contemptuously at Serpent and his men as he entered the circle. "We draw the line in the sand NOW."
Serpent's men stood at attention, ready to throw down. But their leader, still sitting, was unfazed. "Little, little Viki. So quick to anger! I thought you were the Ambassador of Love...or whatever." He gestured to his men. "Meet my companions. Tirano Rex and Camazotz Jr. You probably know the later. His father and yours were, after all, well acquainted."
Victor looked like he'd been stabbed in the gut. His shoulders arched. Everyone in a five foot radius of the man suddenly felt like they'd been emotionally slapped in the face.
Spike, still not entirely sure if this was all a bit, whispered in Buck's ear. "I'm...not following the heat here."
Buck blanched. "Spike," he choke-whispered. "Viki's father was Saber Demonico, Serpent's right hand man. When he left Los Venoms, he had Camazotz hunt him down and kill him. Or so they say. It's never been proven."
Victor looked ready to rip his shirt off any second and start swinging. "I'll challenge you where you stand, Serpent. You think you can come in here and insult my friends, my mentors, my lovers?"
"He's talking about different people, right?" Spike asked Buck, which earned him a stiff fist to the arm, inadvertently activating his glyph. Shit, now I'm ready for a fight!
Serpent, grinning, snapped his fingers. "Boys. I think our little romeo here wants to play."
Hungry and snarling, like starved beasts, T. Rex and Camazotz drew closer to the masked man at the center of the drama. El Amante, lowering his stare and ready for the challenge, leaned forward, ready for a fight.
Clap! "Ay!
Up until now, Calavera had spoken in a very calm, gentle voice, so it took everyone out of the moment when he shouted and stood up from his chair. Even though years of fighting had given him a permanent haunch, a leaning forward, he was still larger than life.
"I will not allow this foolishness while these guests are under my protection," he commanded, as the flames around his mask grew taller.
"Calavera," Serpent scoffed, "you seem a bit hot headed. You should mind your blood pressure. Wouldn't want you to stroke out..."
"I may be no Vahni Rage," Calavera Escarlata shot back, heroically, "No villain! But my fire burns hotter than ever." He walked over to Victor's side and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "There is a time and a place to fight, mi nieto."
Even though Calavera's assurance was welcome, he had unintentionally positioned himself and Victor two opponents against Camazotz and T. Rex. It looked like a match, ready to begin. Rosa held her breath. As did everyone else in the room.
Only Mr. Iron attempted to diffuse the situation. "Hey folks, why don't we just settle..."
"Tell me NOW, rudo," Victor spat, ignoring the call for peace. "Did you have my father killed?"
Everyone gasped.
Except Rosa, who merely buried her face in her palms. "Oh Goddess, this is embarrassing."
Spike might as well have had a bucker of popcorn in his lap. "I am living for the drama," he whispered to Buck, now lost in a stew of anxious worry.
At last, Serpent stood, casting a dark shadow across the make-shift ring in the center of the circle. "How curious. You keep using that term, 'father'. But we know what you really are, Little Viki." He pointed an accusatory finger at his foe. "You aren't your father's son, half-bred spawn of a devil!"
He might as well have struck the invisible, soundless ring-bell in the room. El Amante charged forward, as did Camazatoz and T. Rex, who actually roared in excited anticipation of the brawl. Only, they weren't the sole participants. Whatever Serpent had done to El Amante, whatever powers he'd set off, had spurred the other spellbreakers into aggression.
Colt, kicking his chair back, ripped off his shirt. "HELL YA, SON, LET'S RUMBLE!" Lightning bolts and super kicks followed, folding chairs throne in every direction as everybody else who wasn't a spellbreaker screamed and ran to the edges of the room, or the exits.
Spike charged forward, grinning mischievously, as an uncharacteristically wild-eyed Kengo held out his hand and scooped the Sailorboy onto his back, giving him the height he needed.
"Hey, Dino Daddy!"
T. Rex, dodging a neon-lit kick from Iggy, whipped his head towards the sound of the cocky twink. "ERRR? WHICH DELICIOUS MORSEL CALLS FOR SEXY REXY?"
Spike turned around and pulled his jeans down beneath the crease of his voluptuous ass cheeks. "You bit off more cake than you could chew, T!" Spike announced, as he launched himself spectacularly into an Anchors Away moon sault. His ass collided against T. Rex with the velocity and mass of an anvil, knocking him silly into a row of chairs.
Two different versions of Cian, in illusion mode, flanked Camazotz. They took on a grappler stance.
The bat-faced villain grinned. "Come on, little boys."
"GRRR!" The double Cians charged forward, ready to split-tackle the bastard.
"Whoops!" Camazotz said, as he blinked out of existence. The two Cian's smashed together, back into one body. Confused, Cian turned around just as Camazotz re-materialized out of his invisible aether. The luchador kicked him in the gut and sent him careening into a tray of refried beans.
"Hehehe," the luchador laughed, walking over to the boy, splayed out and covered in bean juice. He scooped up a serving of beans with his finger nail and shoved it into the stunned boy's mouth. "Looks like you need more protein, chico! Eat up."
The only person who remained seated was Rosa, a highly irritated non-participant. "Ugh! It's my Quinceañera all over again!" Sighing, she stood and rolled up the sleeves of her blouse. "And just like it, I'm gonna have to kick EVERYONE'S ASS." She vaulted over the chairs and ran towards the fray.
Meanwhile, in a moment of impulsive bravery, Buck picked up a folding chair and lunged towards Camazotz. The invisibility-powered luchador phased in and out of the light spectrum, dancing around a highly perturbed Gio, trying to get a grapple on him. Buck waited for Camazotz to 'phase' shift, before taking aim and striking him on the back.
The chair bent. Buck's hands seared at the reverb. Slowly, the unbothered Camazotz turned back and snarled, full-fanged, at the young upstart.
"Wow..." Buck gulped. "You...definitely don't skip back day, do ya, bud?"
An electrified punch to the head knocked Camazotz to the ground. Buck, bracing himself for assault, looked up to see his father shaking the pins-and-needles out of his hand. He winked. "Nice hustle, son! Tag in?"
Behind them, Serpent—who had been biding his time, watching—looked over at Kengo, meeting his eyes. "What a large specimen," Serpent said, eyes glowing green. "Why don't you come help me out here, guapo?"
Eyes glowing back in turn, Kengo's mind was in Serpent's full grasp. He turned to Colt and gripped him in a massive bear hug.
"URK!"
Spike and Iggy, back to back, saw what was happening and charged forward simultaneously to intervene. Camazotz and T. Rex had gotten back on their feet and had formed a living barricade around the combatants, cutting them off. T. Rex grabbed Iggy's arm and whipped him into the rows of chairs, knocking him dizzy on his back.
"I'LL BREAK YOU FOR TOUCHING HIM!" El Amante roared, joining Spike at his side.
Behind them, Buck pleaded, trying to pry Kengo's massive arms off his father. "Let go, bear!"
Serpent tsked-tsked at the effort. "Silly, vaquero. Why don't you electrocute your pupil and free yourself?"
Buck knew he wouldn't dare. Colt, face red and slicked with sweat, grit his teeth and glared at Serpent. Buck didn't know how much more of this he could take. Either the hypnotized Kengo would break his ribs, or Colt would deliver a thousand watt jolt to him. Colt had used his technique to safely paralyze and subdue men before, but that was in-ring, with the protection of soma. And there was plenty difference between re-starting someone's heart in a controlled environment and trying to inject a 'safe' amount of voltage into a massive man, enthralled.
"I wonder which will happen first!" Serpent laughed, mockingly, as if reading Buck's mind.
Camazotz and T. Rex grappled Spike and El Amante, deadlocked, neither pushing forward or backwards. They were stuck. Spike had spent all his reserved power on knocking himself into T. Rex, but the man was even stronger and more durable than he'd realized! A flash of motion caught Spike's eyes. He looked down at the floor. It was moving. No, something was coming through the wooden slats, upended. Roots. Thorns. Vines.
Camazotz realized something was wrong a bit too late. "Wh--"
A rope of thorns twisted around his giant calves and ankles, sinking into his flesh. Next to him, gentler—but no less powerful—grape vines emulated the wrestling move of their namesake and pulled T. Rex's legs to the side, knocking him off balance.
In one swift motion, vines and thorns interlocked, pulling the two masked meatheads together. The next thing Spike saw was Rosa flip through the air, and Gio roll beneath T. Rex's legs, as the two plant magick users bound their foes together in a gnarl of thorns and leaves.
Rosa landed gracefully in front of Gio, who stood up at the same time, meeting her eyes. A moment passed between them, before either blushed and turned away.
"Good work."
"Yes." Gio coughed. "You are...very impressive. No wonder you go to Okami now."
Struck by something she could not explain, Rosa looked at Gio, then at her cousin, steadying himself. In the lapse between secons, Victor regained his composure, nodded to Gio and her, and leapt forward to deal with Kengo.
"Right!" Gio shouted, joining him, leaving Rosa to wonder.
El Amante at one side of the ensorcelled sumo, and Gio at the other, the stone-faced giant continued to grip down on his prey.
"Maybe a little quicker, boys," Colt grunted, grimacing. "Can't fight in no match if I ain't got a ribcage!"
Gio, drawing strength from the wood in the floor, yanked Kengo's arm off Colt with ease. El Amante used the opportunity to pull Kengo back under his armpit. Colt collapsed to the floor, gasping like a fish on dry land. "I'll be fine..." he groaned, refusing Buck's help. "Bucky, go 'round the bar and fetch yer 'pa a double of whisky and I'll be right as rain."
Thankfully, Iggy had since recovered (albeit with a limp). He sprinted over and waved his hands in front of Kengo's eyes, creating a miniature light show of shooting stars and comets. Entranced, Kengo watched galaxies blink in and out of existence.
"You're no heel, Kengo," Iggy huffed. "So, don't even try it."
The light magick danced before Kengo, whose eyes reverted back to normal. He shook his head. "Huh?" He checked himself to make sure he was still clothed. "Wh-wh-why is everyone looking at me?"
Spike leaned against his knees, stabilizing himself. Cian sauntered up behind him, looking annoyed, with his emerald green shirt stained brown.
Spike caught whiff of something. "Why...do you smell like a burrito?"
"Don't worry about it."
The other spellbreakers had been so caught up in Colt's recovery that they didn't notice El Amante had broken off into a sprint towards Serpent. The normally gentle and loving Luchador snatched, of all things, a carving knife off one of the food tables.
Rosa caught the motion out of the corner of her eye at the last second and felt her stomach drop. "VICTOR, NO!"
"This should have happened a long time ago..." Victor seethed as he dove forward. "This is for my mother's husband, and the childhood YOU TOOK FROM ME."
"Hm?" Serpent turned away from the chaos in which he delighted, and saw the glint of metal coming towards him. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but Rosa thought she saw Serpent's eyes flash with panic, for a but a moment.
Victor's guttural yell was abruptly cut off by a series of loud, clanging, crashing sounds. Moving in one, like a school of fish, folding chairs sailed through the air and arranged themselves like puzzle pieces in a barricade, cutting Serpent off from Victor. The knife bounced back off metal, and out of Victor's hands.
A wall of flames sprouted from the floor on the opposites side cut the spellbreakers off from Serpent's men, joining the folding chair barricade and dividing the room between Los Venoms and the GSA. The brambles around Serpent's henchmen faded brown and crumbled into dust, freeing them. But the blood from Rosa's thorns ran fresh across Camazotz's body, and he glared over at the young spellbreaker with the promise he would one day return the favor to her. She was unbothered.
From out the fire, Calavera Escarlata and John Henry appeared, like gods of divine vengeance, ready to enact justice and order. The other spellbreakers, even the toughest of the lot, shrunk back in awe of their combined power. Colt, from his kneeling position on the ground, with Buck's hands on his shoulders, looked up—first in wonder, then in shame.
But nowhere nearly as ashamed as El Amante. His body shook, before he dropped to his knees and clutched at his mask in anguish. He let out a low, pained cry, but it was drowned out by the crackle of the fire.
"ENOUGH!" Calavera, arguably the first real spellbreaker in the modern sense, shouted, commanding the room. He looked over at the men and women of the GSA, huddling as a collective around their boss. "Spellbreakers....HAVE YOU ABANDONED YOUR DIGNITY? You save this for the ring."
With a wave of his hand, he dismissed his wall of flames, leaving not even smoke behind. He pointed to Serpent and his men. "Now, OUT WITH YOU, DOGS"
Serpent took the hint, but laughed derisively all the same. "What an exciting evening! A fine preview for our matches to come." He nodded to Camazotz and T. Rex, both of them clutching different parts of their sore body. "Boys. With me."
A hand on either of their backs, Serpent moved his men towards the exit, under the shocked and terrified gaze of all the audience members and non-magickal associates still clinging to the fringes of the reception hall.
Gently brushing his son aside, Colt rose up from the floor and spat. "Serpent, you SICK BASTARD!"
Serpent turned his head back. John Henry did as well, giving Colt a look that was both warning and pleading.
The 'Bolt' crackled with fury. "You don't come in here and insult MY teacher, or my students, and think you'll get away with it. You. Me. Name the time and place. I'LL KICK YOUR ASS ALL OVER AGAIN!"
Serpent looked upon him, both with respect and loathing. "Fatherhood has weakened you, vaquero. I do not see the hot-blooded outlaw who once proved a challenge. But...I'll be happy to defeat you in a most humiliating fashion. In front of your son."
This time, it was Buck who grit his teeth. "Gonna have to get a bigger folding chair, then."
"Hmph!" Serpent sneered and pushed his men out the door, into the dark of the night.
With the wicked ones dispersed, the spellbreakers of the GSA turned their attention towards Victor, still crouched on the floor, a knife by his side. His beautiful mane of hair dangled in front of his eyes, obscuring him even more than his mask.
Nobody knew what to say. Not even Calavera, never at a loss for words. It was one thing to raise one's fist or magick against a rival, especially in this hot-blood sport. It was another thing to become so enraged as to turn a weapon against an opponent. And yet, even though every spellbreaker, from Spike to Colt, had their opinions on the matter, they all silently agreed: this was not normal for their beloved, masked friend.
It was Iggy who made the first move. He walked over, quietly, and placed his hand on El Amante's broad back. "Let's go back to the hotel," he said, softly.
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