"Put it all on black."

Steve Jason had something of a reputation for being a master in his chosen profession. At two hundred and thirty seven pounds, he had the perfect balance of weight- not a cruiserweight, but only just in the heavyweight department, allowing him to balance out his strength, speed and ability. He'd dedicated himself to ring psychology and even strategic and tactical studies to enhance his game even more. To boot, he had sharpened senses and a reaction time that proved to be a great advantage in combat. The years he'd dedicated to his craft meant that not only had he reached his potential, he'd transcended it and continually pushed the boundaries of it...

"Eighteen red."

...which is why it might be something of a surprise to learn that the Avenger absolutely sucked at gambling.

In keeping with what was rapidly being dubbed a 'Legendary Alliance' between Steve and Andy 'Centurion' Cortinovis, Steve had taken some time out of his schedule to visit one of Centurion's properties in Las Vegas, the Trump Centurion Resort. As long-time friends, Steve had access to a few perks of the place, and as a result he'd found himself in a much quieter VIP gaming floor, elevated above the main gaming floor on a platform. As one might have expected, Steve was in front of the roulette table, clad in a simple pale blue short-sleeved shirt and jeans. Leaning next to the table, in his Hawaiian finest, was Douglas Henry Phidippidies McNamara III, Steve's long-time best friend.

"Yes! Luck of the Irish!" While Steve was a horrific gambler, his lawyer, close friend and confidante, Chloe O'Brien, was the exact opposite. She had won about as much money as Steve had lost that night- and then some. She'd dressed surprisingly casually for once, in a snowy white off-the-shoulder sweater and tight blue jeans, her brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. As the chips were dragged across the table to her, she reached for a four-leaf clover pendant and lifted it to her lips, kissing it.

"Well, I'm glad somebody's winning something tonight..." Steve muttered, setting both of his hands on the edge of the roulette table to survey the board in front of him, "I've pretty much blown my budget for the night."

"That's a cop-out, SJ..." John R. Dequindre boomed aloud, Steve's cousin stepping down the steps from the bar located above the floor. The tall, bearded young man was decked out in a wine-red long-sleeve shirt and grey slacks held up by shoulderbraces. In addition to the bottle of Heineken grasped in his hand, a thick Cuban cigar was clenched between his teeth, pointing out to the side slightly. That caused Steve to wrinkle his nose instinctively- he was no fan of tobacco. Not by a long shot. Well, at least Chloe had the decency not to bring cigarettes into the equation.

"How so?" Steve blinked, turning to regard his friend.

"You're a top-tier wrestler in one of the biggest federations in the world. And I know for a fact you made a fair packet when we were working in Africa. You could bleed this place dry if you wanted."

"But I don't want to." Steve shrugged.

"Man, this life is wasted on you, bru. Do you have any idea the things I'd do if I was making that kind of money?"

"Pretty good idea, yeah. I've lived that life, John. It's not for me. I'm a fighter, not a celebrity. I'm just not cut out for the Hollywood life."

"It's wasted. Do you have any idea how a man like you could live? All the hot supermodels and actresses and singers a guy could want..."

"Celebrities annoy me." Steve said gruffly, "It's bad enough I have to be in the same room with the silver-spooners, I'll be damned if I actually date any. Hell, I have a bad enough time tolerating some of my fellow wrestlers."

"Lemme guess..." Dougy piped up, "That wanker Famine getting you wound up again?"

"Heh, we aren't exactly fans of each other, I'll say that much." A quiet laugh escaped Steve at that, "It's not so much him though. I know Famine is a douche. It's Dan, y'know? I trained that guy up, I really wanted him to succeed, and he's taking this whole tag-division thing personally. It's like he thinks I'm trying to take it away from him. It's not that at all- it's the fact that Cent and I have wanted to team up for so very, very long. And I have a feeling that's gonna make him crack to the point where I may have to take action against him."

"So flatten the pansy, then."

"It's not that simple, Dougy." Steve sighed quietly, "He's a good kid. If Famine sucks him in enough, I'll have to break him to stop him, and he doesn't deserve that."

"Well, it could be worse I guess..." Chloe suggested optimistically, brushing her hair back with one hand, "Dan could have hurt you. He didn't do that. And there's still Rhiannon, you know. She's not a lost cause."

"Heh. Suppose you have a point." A wry smirk crossed Steve's face at that as he seized the railing opposite the roulette table and peered down at the gaming floor below, observing the flashing lights, myriads of sounds and bustling crowds of people milling around below thoughtfully as he spoke, "She's doing well. Number one contendership against Orchid. That's going to be an interesting dance."

"Tell me about it." The grin on Dougy's face was as bright as the sun, and the knowing smirk from John indicated both men were thinking along the same lines, "Wild Orchid, Rhiannon and that Frankie Jones chick as the ref? I'd call that a win win win right there!"

"You know, for someone who got thrown off a skyscraper by John Gambino, I'd have thought you'd be a bit shyer regarding his wife." Steve remarked dryly.

"Not for a second, mate! I'll gladly go through the danger to do what I do best- appreciate hot chicks!"

"Appreciate your wife, then. I don't want to get dragged into this mess."

"Yeah, and you know, that is my cousin we're talking about..." Chloe pointed out, a slight edge in her voice.

"Alright, alright! We'll get off the topic of Rigg's wife and Chloe's cousin, then. What about that Frankie chick? She's freakin' hot! In fact, everyone is freakin' hot! It's like a Renaissance of hot chicks in the X-Treme Wrestling Federation! SJ, you should be up in that! You're a trainer, so you probably even get access to the chicks' locker rooms and such!"

"Er, no, no I don't. Not unless I want to get arrested for sexual harassment." Steve muttered. John, on the other hand, seemed surprisingly quiet- almost pensive, one could say. His hand was cupped to his bearded chin, and his eyes were half-closed in thought.

"Wonder if I could be one of those manager types and manage Rhiannon. You know, get close to the action."

"Don't even think about it." Steve warned.

"I'm curious!" John defended himself, "I'd like to go front-row and see my woman fight for the title. Support her. Be in her corner as she fights her way to victory."

"And this has nothing at all whatsoever to do with the other wrestler or the hot referee?"

"I said nothing about her being hot!"

"Dude, even I think she's hot. Hell, I even think Rhiannon's hot. Contrary to what myth and legend would have people believe, I'm not asexual. I know what's going through your head. The only difference is I've got a little thing called restraint, which you two sorely lack. Anyway, John, I'm serious. I can't tell you what to do, but there's a reason I don't do managers and valets. It's risky business. Particularly in the X-Treme Wrestling Federation. Get involved in that stuff at your own risk."

"Yeah, yeah, alright, Dad..." John's sarcastic drawl almost shook the entire casino area, coming out a bit louder than he'd expected. Steve raised an eyebrow at that, then shook his head slightly. He sincerely doubted his brash younger cousin would listen to him, but at least Steve had made the dangers clear to him. Besides, it wasn't like Rhiannon was crazy enough to put the man in her corner. And besides, Steve had his own share of problems right now. The last Anarchy had made it abundantly clear that he needed to take some serious action. Trent Gein had to be cut off at the bud, and then there was the problem of Famine... and the problem of Dan Fierce. No matter what happened, Steve suspected that the next Anarchy would be a gruelling one- at least mentally. His arms folded on the edge of the railing as John and Dougy returned to their business at the roulette tables.

"Hey. You OK?" Chloe had come up behind Steve quietly, leaning over from behind him, "Sorry about the guys. They can never take anything seriously, can they?"

"John can, when he's inclined to. As for Dougy... heh, in twenty-nine years I can count the times I've seen him being serious on one hand. But I'm fine. Just got a lot to think about."

"The twins?"

"God, that too. I've still got to get some serious motion going on that. Those guys back in the desert didn't seem to know anything. It's almost like we're right back to where we started."

"We've just got to keep looking, Steve." Chloe shrugged, letting a sigh escape her, "I don't like it either, but there's not a lot we can do right now. We've just got to keep making connections until we get some information. The more you're on TV, the more likely it is people are going to find you, and your connections here in the XWF might help you out too. Zachary and Zoe are out there, and we'll find them. You've just got to keep yourself afloat until then."

"I know, Chloe. I know." Steve managed a small grin, "I've been meaning to speak to Walter Crowe, actually. Centurion's pal. The man's got a lot of connections, so I'm wondering if he could help pin the twins down in some way. He might not be able to do a thing either, but there's only one way to find out. I'm probably going to go see him in a couple of days."

"We've got that thing with Rhiannon soon, too." Chloe pointed out, "That might be a good time to call us all together and figure out what we do next. I guess we have to put up with John coming along, but..."

"The man's surprisingly good. When he wants to be and when he can be serious." Steve laughed quietly at that, "But yeah. Get back to Rhiannon ASAP and tell her I'm game. John'll no doubt be there too. Hopefully we can wrangle it in a matter of days and work out where we go from there."

"And in the meantime?" Chloe asked.

"In the meantime, I've got a Butcher to disarm."

[CLICK TO CONTINUE]