Lessons in Villainy (for Monsy)

[EgoEnjoyer]

"19!...ngghh...20!"

Sophie laid back after finishing another set, the dark stains on her gym shorts and hoodie a sign of her hard work. She took deep breaths as sweat dripped down the side of her face and onto the floor. She hated this part. Sophie had always lacked the discipline to train properly. Until she joined LAW, her fantasies of her favorite heroines were the only thing that motivated her. They still motivated her now, but less so. Despite having made it to LAW, they seemed more like fantasies than ever.

Sure she had a few matches with babyfaces like she had hoped for, but so what? It hadn't amounted to anything. She hadn't even faced a proper heroine yet, only a sidekick. After all the work she put into her role, someone had still thought her so insignificant that they sent their student to face her. And now nothing. For some reason she just stopped getting scheduled.

That was the most frustrating part. She felt like she had given a good display of skill, but being skilled isn't everything. There was always the entertainment aspect. Was she not enough of a villain to deserve the spotlight? Was she going to be stuck fighting sidekicks forever? What was all the work she'd put into her act for?

Sophie sat up and clenched her fist in frustration, but as she looked around the gym she started to calm down. Her eyes darted between the different women in the middle of their exercises, fixing on each for a moment to "appreciate" them, distracting her from her thoughts. That was another thing that motivated her to train. She got to ogle at a bunch of pretty ladies.

Spoiler

[Monsy]

Her legs were a motor that seemed content with their own momentum. The treadmill was the endless asphalt path that she strode on mid-speed to a healthy jog. A DAY in the LAW gyms filled her nose with enough sweat stench for an entire week. Just a whole sea of sweat-pants and ragged old shorts or LAW-supplied activewear. SHE much liked her high shorts and cropped top, blending white on golden stripe patterns. Her hair was tied into a bun, a medium-length hairpin ran through it, electrifying at the push of a button.

There was always an advantage for going out of her way for some field recon. So who was on the menu in the next… three months? Two. Maybe four. She’ll need to check her notes. Or really just rack her head for a few moments of not running. Her head was currently focused on remembering the small things.

What weight did she just push? How long? With what level of control?
This one has been using the step ladder non-stop for thirty minutes. Just barely.
And here’s a guy on the bag. He throws like a cannon. Nearly throws himself too.

There was a ring placed into the corner that she eyed often too. Since she got here an hour ago, there hasn’t been one occupant. Surprising, really. Would this not be the place to show off and feel the lower risk of humiliation by peers? Could be a different program type of day. Then again, if these were Young Lionesses, Lions, newbies or local talent, then it makes sense not to bang yourself too much before the next house show, which was always somewhere in Japan. Tokyo had about a dozen minor leagues you could slip into any evening, schmuck or pro.

At long last, she finished her treadmill routine at thirty minutes, slowing to a crawl where she took a drink from a tall cylinder drink cup. She wiped her forehead which sheened with sweat, then got off, looking around to see who had the thinnest wallets of the bunch. Who was most distracted to stay occupied while she ruffled through their bags?

[EgoEnjoyer]

Her eyes continued darting between all the different occupants of the gym. She recognized a couple people here and there, but it wasn't like there were any big names hanging around. Finally her eyes landed on a small, shorter-haired woman using the treadmill. They lingered there longer than usual. There was something about her, she seemed familiar but Sophie couldn't quite figure out why. Not that she minded as it gave her an excuse to keep staring. She did have quite an impressive figure. A part of Sophie started to hope she was a heroine so that they might have a match someday... if she ever got another one that is.

Unfortunately, Sophie had been too distracted to notice the treadmill slowing, and was just barely able to avert her gaze before the woman turned around and stepped off. Her head snapped to the side, trying to look occupied with something else and hoping she hadn't been caught staring.

[Monsy]

Now this was something… Was she being looked at? A good taste, mind you. All that gaudy muscle and swinging fat around doesn’t leave many candidates when you’re Spectre: optimized.

But WAS this just an onlooker? Or an agent. A savant who sees through her, then is out for some revenge that hadn’t sprung. All were possible! Of course the possibility of conflict was salivating. Even if there was nothing at the end of this, perhaps they’d make a meal for one of their many evening captures.

She rolled her eyes for thinking this long. Her white towel that hung over the head of the treadmill was used to pad her face, then slung over-shoulder. At least four different greetings played in her head in a gradual approach in a roundabout way. She’d get lost behind the stationary bikes and go through a door that led to a hallway attaching back around to the entrance or a yoga room.

Now for the flank.

Thought Spectre on her way back to the gym’s entrance. The double-doors opened with controlled clicks and she strode from there towards Sophie’s spot in the gym. Pressing an index under her thumb, she extended it to Sophie and flicked her temple.

“Loser.”

[EgoEnjoyer]

A bead of sweat rolled down the side of Sophie's head. Not from her workout, but out of fear she had been caught gawking. She turned her head back to take a glance and noticed the woman walking out of the gym. She breathed a sigh of relief. She was in the clear.

But... that's odd. She left her gym bag behind. She must've forgotten it. Maybe Sophie should bring it to her. She wasn't one to turn down an excuse to talk to a pretty girl after all. So Sophie stood up and-

"Ow!" Something had hit her right in the temple. She turned to look and saw the very same redhead from before. Hearing her voice now though, she was certain she knew this woman from somewhere. "What? Who ya calling a loser, you weirdo?! Sneaking up on people like that..." Sophie took a couple steps back and blushed a little, clearly flustered after having been caught.

[Monsy]

Sophie didn't disappoint in amusing the virus. Her clumsiness was cute and the delayed rebuttal told the whole story she wanted to know.

Spectre's lips went cheshire cat, her hands grabbed behind her back and she stepped forward to half that distance, then leaned a bit, looking up.

"It's not weird to fetch my bag."

She weighed the option of saying what she knew and what gave her some entertainment. That dash of colour she saw on Sophie? How could she not stoke it? From rage or anything else. She'd reveal herself either way. Poor thing looked disturbed already. And that was the best part of messing with a stranger.

"And you were about to do that for me, yes-yes." Her hand flapped at the bag on the ground. "Go on."