America
Matthaious Constantine
Lady Constantine
When she saw Matthaious's form while he was pounding away at the heavy bag...and then his punching form, America knew that she had to go and shoot her shot. Fine as hell, built like a superhero, got a name that sounds like something right out of folklore, and he's a boxer? Sounds like a great start to something in her book.
So she made her approach, introduced herself, and started testing the waters. Talked some shop, went over approaches and philosophy. They both liked to do their business up close, but he had a more pragmatic MMA-based game, while she liked to style on fools. She was a second away from inviting him to the ring that stood in the middle of the gym, not put off in the slightest by the size difference. Quite the opposite, actually.
Which of their styles was the best?
And then this woman who is apparently ageless showed up with two bottles of Gatorade in tow. The big ones. When she called him Matt instead of Matthaious, she had the feeling that she was in another one of those situations where she happened to be flirting with a guy who already has a woman. And then he said, "Thanks, mom."
She doesn't look a day older than them. What is she, one of those vampires who were signed recently?
Lady Constantine -- or Bethany, as she introduced her self -- smiled at her incredulousness. It was a reaction that she's gotten time and time again, but it's never any less a welcome treat for her ego.
"I shit you not."
"So what, you one of those vampires, or sumpin'?"
"Vampires?" Bethany asked with a laugh. "No, hun. Just a combination of fabulous genetics and lots of exercise."
Uh-uh. She must've had him young.
"Well..." Bethany took a look between the two of them. Something in her eye told of her connecting dots. "Don't mind me."
"Oh, it ain't like that." Not if his mom's gonna be around. "It was just cool to see anotha boxa in the gym."
"Likewise."
Bethany still walked away. Gave them some space. But that still put a wrench in things. For now. Soon after his mother left, dressed in a short-sleeved crop top and figure hugging shorts would make an approach next. "Excuse me." Yeah, excuse her, indeed. This chick turned her blue eyes to her, acknowledging her presence for all of a second before returning her attention to Matthaious. Her vibe was all coy and shit, but America recognized these subtle "bitch, step aside" moves when she saw them. "I saw you practicing, and I was wondering if you could help me. You see, I'm new here. Really new -- I just got signed into the Young Lioness program..."
America gave her shoulders a shrug and left the spot herself. She's only been in this game for four years, but it was long enough for her to know better than to fight over a man that isn't hers. But she'd be keeping an eye on him, in case he was just looking for some horizontal cardio.
Back to it for now. She jumped some rope, spent some time working a speedbag, laid into another heavy bag, and had just gotten started on a set with some weights when she spotted a lean Korean man coming through. And when he caught her eye, he kept it. This dude was another boxer. She didn't know what he was doing as a wrestler, though, and judging from what she saw of his first match, neither did he. He was gentlemanly to a fault; never fought a woman before, she could tell. It gave him a certain charm, though. Reminded her of a guy she worked with back in the Foundation Wrestling Society. He was Asian too, although Yer was Hmong.
Not the most socially well-adjusted dude, but he was a good one. And a lot of fun after he'd gotten some help linking up with the dog he had in him.
Ooh, yeah. Now Yer was a man who could indulge the one vice she has.
She watched Jaegu as he worked the heavy bag. The same one she'd loosed some combos on some minutes ago. He's good. Good enough that she had to go over there and see what the kid's got, really.
"Yo! That's some good form you got."
