A Little Dose Of "Trouble"

[High Tide]

“You know you can't dwell on a loss forever. Somebody had to lose, and with how rusty you are I'm quite honestly surprised you lasted as long as you did!”

It was a harsh assessment but to be fair it was one he had to admit was accurate. Still, that didn't mean he had to be happy about it. “Oh really, and when was the last time you got in the ring that you can so accurately judge just how rusty I was hmm?” Tide snapped back. He was not happy with himself for losing his return match, especially one that could have propelled him. Yet with the latest booking, it seemed the tides had changed in a way he was actually pretty happy about.

“Well if you must know since my hiatus from PCW, I've been pretty active in the independent scene. I actually wrestled three nights ago where I wrestled and defeated someone with the most unfortunate gimmick. In ring she goes by, and I shit you not, 'Kockblock Karen'. Yes, with a K,” she grumbled not exactly proud of the quality of work she had been receiving.

High Tide however, burst out into uncharacteristic laughter, his amusement ringing out across the living room of Arica “Trouble” Lewitt's apartment. He even surprised himself but he couldn't stop himself from laughing. It was that sort of laughter that came on in full, and no matter how hard you tried it wouldn't leave until it was all laughed out. It was also contagious, and after throwing a remote at him in mock protest, bouncing off the couch cushion beside him, Trouble also broke into laughter. Tide wasn't laughing at her, he knew she was a hell of a wrestler, but at the ridiculousness of such a gimmick.

“Arica what the hell are you doing wrestling against wrestlers like that? No offense to whoever Kockblock Karen is but anyone who's going to allow themselves to be branded like that, I don't feel sorry for. You're too good for the independent circuit. You're no green wrestler, nor old washed up veteran. You're too good to be some middle card talent in independent leagues when you could be up in PCW fighting for titles. You're that good. So why are you wasting your time in the independent scene?” Tide inquired, genuinely curious. He didn't have any ill will towards the independent scene. No in fact he thought it was an amazing thing for your average, everyday wrestler. The problem was that Trouble was the farthest thing from an average wrestler. With a couple years against proper competition after her already fairly successful brief stint in PCW, and Tide would be willing to be she'd be top of the top. She was that good.

Trouble smiled at him. It was the rarely seen, rather endearing, sweet side of High Tide. She had wondered if it still existed and she was happy to see that it did. “Honest answer? It's a paycheck and I'm just not ready to be in PCW right now. You know how tough it is. The matches are more intense, the schedule is more intense. Hell just going out into public becomes a hassle when you're part of something like that. I've been thinking about it, don't get me wrong, but I'm just not ready,” Trouble managed to smile and look sad at the same time.

Tide shook his head knowingly. It was far from easy, that was for certain. He picked up the remote, and gently tossed it back to her. She caught it as he spoke. “I understand that. Funny you should mention it not being easy this week of all weeks. It's my second match back and I get the honor of going up against the Underground King, Rick Majors. Don't get me wrong, I'm never one to turn down a title match, and I thrive in matches like ones with Underground Rules, but it's gonna take everything I've got and then some to take down a man like Rick Majors. He just got that title, he's gonna do everything and then some to keep it, I don't doubt that.”

There was a long moment of silence after that. Tide let his eyes scan around Arica's apartment. Everything was clean and organized and it just seemed all put together. A far cry from his own little shed house. He knew it would get better, but it was going to take some time. Suddenly he noticed a devilish grin break out on Arica's face. They did call her Trouble after all.

Without a word she rose suddenly and wandered back into one of the bedrooms. Tide tapped his finger against the fabric of the red couch, wondering just exactly what she was up to. He didn't have to wait long as she returned quickly after he heard her shuffling things around. One hand was behind her back. He tilted his head, looking at her quizzically.

“What you said struck the very chords of truth. Rick Majors is going to do everything and then some to make sure he keeps his new title exactly where it is. It's also true that you're literally going to need to do everything and then some AND get some good luck on top of it,” Trouble started cryptically, that devilish grin returning to her face.

Tide stood up, his head still tilted. “Alright, alright I get it. I'm rusty, I'm outmatched, and only my pure love of chaos will give me any chance at winning. Get to the point already and what do you have behind your back anyways?” he cut her off quickly. High Tide was not known to be an overly patient man.

“I have a gift for you, a little “chaos” to take with you to your match. You said you have to do EVERYTHING and THEN SOME to win? This is the “and then some,” she smirked taking her hand from behind her back and revealing a pink set of brass knuckles. He looked at her confused, and the expression on his face was too much for her. She burst out into laughter. Pure and unapologetic laughter. Tide tried to keep a stern look on his face, but he couldn't help but laugh as well. It was quite ridiculous.

“Where the hell did you get those? Do you just keep a pair around? Do they have to be pink? Pink isn't the most piratey of colours you know,” he managed to get the words out around the laughter that was slowly subsiding.

She offered them to him. “These? These are my special custom made for me pink “Trouble Knuckles” as I like to call them. Take them. It's an underground rules match, not that you'd care what the rules are in the first place being a pirate and all. This is that extra something you need. Think about it. Taking down Rick Majors with a pair of pink knuckles in your second match back, and becoming the Underground King. I've never known a pirate to turn down a chance at gold,” she winked at him conspiratorily.

He thought for a moment. She was right, it was an underground rules match, and he'd love nothing more than to pick up a victory, let alone a title. He reached forward and accepted the knuckles from her.
“And you won't ever see it. I'll take them for this match, and since they are so special to you I'll make sure to get them back to you when I see you next. Thank you. It means a lot. Speaking of the match, I should probably take off. As you so kindly pointed out, I'm still rusty as hell and I'm about to put my body through the devil's washing machine. A little last minute training might not be a bad idea,” he said his voice full of gratitude as he stepped in and embraced her in a tight hug.

He turned to leave, pocketing the pink “Trouble Knuckles” and reached for the door handle. Her voice stopped him for a moment. “You can just return them after you win the match. I've got a couple weeks off, I'll be there. Now go you rusty old man and get that training in. I don't want to see Rick Majors wipe the floor with you.” Tide didn't let her see his smile as he opened the door and left her beautiful apartment without looking back. He didn't want her to know just how much it meant to have a friend there, cheering him on. After all, he had a reputation as a bad ass, unfeeling pirate to uphold, and he meant to do just that.