The Sun Can Blind (for BlackAkuma)

[Crossedes]

Spoiler

If only some of these tireless, sweaty upstarts could know what Millicent could tell they did not know.

Each one she passed, she courted with an unreadable narrowing of her eyes. A few flashed recognition of the face staring back at them, but their numbers were dwarfed by those who appeared disinterested, confused, absent, or bothered. A pair licked their lips with a boldness she could respect. But every one of them was ignorant. Ignorant of Millie's thorough scrutiny. Ignorant of Millie's forming scheme where they could either play pawns or prey. Ignorant that in some way, the magnetic redhead passing them by was not as unassuming as she seemed - that she would be a wave, not a ripple, in this bustling pond.

Millie scrutinized all the newcomers in Europe. As the newcomer herself in Japan - for what fool would call her something so simple despite her years of experience and many accolades - all the little machinations and judgments could leave her head spinning. But Millie knew well that any player in this sport who did not pursue an early advantage like a starving lioness would find herself five steps behind before she knew it. The women like Millie, who reached the top of this sport? They were all ravenous, and as the newcomer, Millie already had fields, years of chewed-up bones to navigate. Chances were, many of the gym-goers she passed were some of those chewed-up bones. The ones with apprehension in their eyes? Maybe.

It would be that much more satisfying when she caught up to the women lounging at the top of LAW's pecking order and stepped on them. But for a time, she would strategize. Hell, she might even enjoy it now that she had learned so many of the political tricks of this field.

But, ach, she had not come to build an empire during one trip to the gym. Half of these women did not even study the sport enough to have recognized her, and one day as an imposing stranger could do an empress a world of good. With her rounds completed, Millie's pace doubled as she headed back across the gym to find a dummy - not a human one - to beat down. All the travel had her muscles feeling irritable and longing to hit something.

So much so that the sound of someone hitting the canvas as she passed the sparring mats caught her ears and her attention. Millie brushed aside her wild bangs to take a peek in time to see a woman - or high schooler, maybe - shuffling up to a woman twice her... size...

Recognition tickled the German's brain, and Millie stopped and squared up with the ring, searching her memory.

Ahhh. Angela Verfickt Belti. Perfect old war dog. One side of Millie's red lips lifted. Speaking of the women she needed to catch...

Millie leaned against the turnbuckle at the ring apron, watching.

[BlackAkuma]

”Just like that, Dizzy! Keep coming!”

”I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming!”

Angela Belti

Dizzy Belti

Desdemona Belti raced around the ring, trying her best to keep up with her mother, the two of them sparred. You’d think it wouldn’t be that hard, what with her being nearly half the size of the older woman and well under half the age, but the senior Belti moved with a speed that you wouldn’t expect from someone in her demographic. Those long legs could strike, covered a lot of distance with every step, and it was enough to leave Dizzy’s smaller limbs in the dust.

She hit the ropes behind her mother, bounced off, and raced forward, only to see that her ‘opponent’ was waiting for her in the middle of the ring. She was setting up for a turnaround, looking to catch her off guard as she came towards her, they’d practiced this a hundred times. A lariat would be coming her way, so she just had to duck, keep moving, and hit her for real on the rebound. Visualize, make it happen, execute.

The lariat came out, went straight for Dizzy’s head, and she ducked. Success!

She ran to the ropes, planted her feet on the middle rope, and jumped off. More success!

She flew through the air towards her mother, ready to take her down, and…where was her mother?

Dizzy squawked and flailed as she went careering across the ring, overshooting her target. She put too much strength in that jump, misjudged the distance, and now she was going to come down flat on her face-

”I’ve got you.” Her mother’s tree trunk arms shot out at the last second, coming in under Dizzy and creating the perfect cushion to land on. With her daughter secure, she stepped back and let Dizzy down easy, giving her a soft landing.

It was appreciated, she wasn’t looking forward to splatting face-first on the mat. But she was a little too irritated to see the good in things. ”Di nuovo, davvero?” She kicked the canvas, knocking away an imaginary rock. ”I keep messing the distance up!”

Angela sighed and stepped over to put a hand on her daughter's shoulder, bringing her pacing to a stop. Even still, she kept bouncing about, still anxious. ”Some things just come with time. You have to fall a few times before you get the distance down pat, that’s all. You’re just learning at your own pace.”

It was a nice sentiment, Dizzy appreciated it, but that didn’t make things less frustrating. Her training had been going well for a while, and she felt like she had the basics down, but she kept running into walls whenever she tried to expand into anything. She didn't have the range for striking, couldn't suplex anyone, and submissions were too much work to lock in. She thought that, at least, the high-flying stuff would be in her wheelhouse, but no, she just kept wrecking her face. She didn't dare try a moonsault lest she break her neck.

”Just take a breather for a little bit, all right?” Her mother gave Dizzy a quick tap on the head and walked off, sliding through the ropes as she spoke. ”I need to check up on a couple of things with the main office while I’m here, it won’t be long. Just run the ropes until I get back, okay? Ten minutes, tops.”

”I got it, ten minutes.” She huffed and threw her mother a quick thumbs up to her mother before she exited the room. Once she was out of sight, Dizzy sighed, took a couple of steps back, and leaned up against the turnbuckle. She’d get back to training in a minute, just like Mom wanted, but for now, she needed to get her breathing under control. Clear her mind. Think.

[Crossedes]

Millie tried to interpret what she watched. Wrestling, yes, but what business did a titan with Angela Belti's background have in a ring with this little cub? What little stock Millicent put into... what was it... La Donna Perfecta living up to the moniker, Angela carried a reputation. Their careers had not quite overlapped for reasons Millie did not fully understand, but Millie consumed as much wrestling as she could. She had seen the woman's violence. Reminded Millie of a few of her own matches.

That was a softer face than she remembered. And those words sounded so kind and encouraging. Curious. She looked between Angela's eyes and the eyes of the youngster, sure she recalled a rumor or maybe a more concrete report about Angela disappearing from weekly wrestling because of a pregnancy. But they looked like such an unlikely set of matching genes that Millie had a difficult time listening to her own logic. She had heard that motherhood could truly change a person. Gott, Millicent would never have children.

That did not mean that she hated the idea of having ducklings trailing along behind her. As if opportunity read her thoughts before they suitably formed, Millie heard Angela's promise to be back in ten. Ten minutes seemed plenty of time to test the waters, and a hook in anyone associated with Angela Belti, daughter or no, was worth the cast.

While Angela might not recognize her, Millie did not care to get roped into a conversation, and as the other veteran left the ring, Millie bent over to dig in her gym bag, nothing but an upturned rear. Once Angela neared the doors of the gym, Millie glanced up, spotting the young woman at the near turnbuckle, meditative. Millie mentally fingered through her many methods of charm before settling on one that seemed to suit the moment, and she loudly hopped onto the apron, rattling the canvas to announce her presence and leaning over the top rope.

"This doesn't look like running the ropes." She peered at the young woman like they shared a naughty secret. "Not many people ignore Angela Belti's orders."

[BlackAkuma]

Dizzy leaned against the ropes, catching her breath as the seconds passed. Needless to say, but of the many thing she liked to do with her free time, running circles around the ring wasn’t one of them. Instead, her mind was already writing today off as a wash and considering alternate possibilities on how to spend her free time. Maybe she’d sneak out later, go to that cute little club that she’d heard about. Pink Flame, she thought it was called. A little on the nose, but they gave out free drinks on Tuesday, and…

”Hm?”

She popped out of her stupor at the sound of someone heavy jumping on the apron, and she turned around in time to see the source and hear the voice that came along with it. Thick, heavy, German? Maybe German, but she could never quite make out the difference with her ears. But she liked it, it made her ears tingle, and her body had a similar effect on the eyes. She was tall, not quite up there with her mother, but still towering over Dizzy herself. Smooth, pleasing curves from head to toe, delicious thighs with a tight stomach and an overwhelming chest. And that hair, practically pouring down her back for the perfect final touch. She was older, but not to the point where it took anything away from her. Quite the opposite - she had the toned body, the kink you only get in your prime, at the top of the hill.

In other words, Dizzy liked what she saw so far. All the proper boxes were ticked—time to flirt.

”Eh. What she doesn’t know can’t hurt her. Or me.” Dizzy let her accent pour every word, milking every drop of that famous Italian flavor. She stepped out of the corner, hands behind her back, batting her eyebrows and trying her best to go for the innocent schoolgirl look. Times like this, being short helped. ”You wouldn’t tattle on me, would you?”

She smiled and blinked, but there was flicker of recognition in her eye. This woman looked somewhat familiar, and she was fairly certain she hadn't seen her in LAW. Wouldn’t forget a body like this.

[Crossedes]

Millicent knew when she was being ogled. It happened daily. But rarely did it happen so unabashedly. What a pleasant surprise. She made that hook meant to snare the young woman more enticing, leaning so far over the ropes that her bra struggled to keep enough concealed to have bothered wearing it. A woman with her experience struggled to play coy, but she knew how to be an object of desire. Many little fish did not care for subtlety besides.

This one didn't seem to. Millie may not have needed to show any more skin.

The accent was plainly Italian, but Millie did not think the blatant frat girl naivety was particularly Italian. It was not a trait this one had learned from Angela Belti, daughter or not. Millie wielded her genuine bemusement. Many younger wrestlers were at least wary of Millie at first if for nothing else than her reputation and size. This fishy was a bold one, and Millie studied her as she came closer. Pretty, but not the package that would approach someone like Millie. The petite ones thought Millie would snap them in two and didn't bother. They were not wrong.

This one did not seem to care. She took the conversation straight to tattling like a schoolgirl envisioning a spanking... but she did not think she wanted that spanking from her mother. Snickering, Millie swung a leg invitingly high and entered the ring.

"Your secrets are safe with me. That and any others you want to share." She whipped tousled red hair back over her shoulder. "Like how frustrated you are when those springboards go wrong."

Millie's eyes went ahead and told the young woman not to bother denying it. She had seen that imaginary rock go flying. "Sorry, I was going to ask for the ring and could not help but overhear. You are her daughter, I assume?" No sense in avoiding asking.

[BlackAkuma]

Dizzy sent out all the feelers, dropped all the hints, and couldn't have been less subtle if she’d come with a flashing neon sign. You never knew how someone would react once you started putting on the pressure. The older woman might have just been playing for the sake of playing, not wanting to come any closer. It was best to lay things on thick right from the start, and see what results she got.

And the results, so far, looked good. Big Red entered, swinging those thunderous thighs over the ropes. God, Dizzy loved LAW sometimes.

Where else could you go in the world and be approached by someone like this? It was like something straight out of porn, and she lived through it. It took surreal self-control not to lose it as the redhead approached.

That being said, being reminded of her recent failure did help to drag the mood a bit. ”Ugh, yeah. Still fine-tuning some of the finer points of my style, you know?” She grunted and ruffled her hair, letting out frustration with a groan. ”Yeah, I’m her daughter. That’s what the paperwork says, anyway, doesn’t always feel that way.”

Wow, that was dark, came out of nowhere. Lighten the mood before she gets scared away by the Mommy issues.

”Probably won’t be using the ring for too much longer, Ms…” Dizzy rubbed her jaw as that niggling little thought from earlier returned. ”You look a little familiar. Maybe watched some of your matches a while back. Where’d you wrestle?”

[Crossedes]

Fine-tuning my style. Doesn't always feel that way. Millie's lovely face revealed nothing, but she aggressively stuck a pin in both of those points. She sensed the exact form of clay she so loved to mold, daughter of a noted Italian amazon or not. What more incentive did she need? Millie needed only to ensure that the next, oh, nine minutes went smoothly. After the young Belti's warm greeting, she couldn't imagine reeling her in would be too difficult.

"Kaiser." Millie likey would recognize her if she or her mother still followed any of the goings-on in Europe. That was a positive, too - Millicent did not meticulously curate her public image for nothing. "Millicent Kaiser. I have wrestled in Europe for years, where your mother left quite the imprint. So short of a full-time career with such an impressive reputation." While she took to stretching, going about her business with one leg propped on the top rope to give young Belti another look at a fine, meaty leg, Millie began her crafty game of mental chess. Play up the mother's achievements. Let the daughter feel she paled in comparison.

"Is that your dream?" she asked, moving a pawn forward. "Or do you feel responsible for continuing hers?" Millie only knew to ask that question because she had experienced the latter.

[BlackAkuma]

Kaiser.

Dizzy lit up with realization as that name slipped into her memory, and she snapped her fingers as it all came together. ”Oh, right!” She nodded. ”Hey, yeah, I watched some of your matches for training before I came over. Mom was always pretty impressed with you.” She was impressed, too, though maybe not for all the same reasons. The redhead stood out enough that she could remember that blazing red hair and pick it out through the formless collage.

”My dream? Not at this moment, no.” She chewed her lip as spied Millicent’s thighs through her half-lidded eyes. If she would put them on display, it was only polite that she oogle them. ”But long term? I dunno. I mean, look at me, I’m kind of starting at a disadvantage.” She spread her arms out, giving her a full view of her tiny body, as if she couldn't see the difference, clear as day. ”The sort of wrestling I’m really good at isn’t the sort she approves of.”

She let that last sentence hang out there with a knowing smile, letting Millicent fill in the blanks as she casually strolled about the ring and stretched. ”I’m Desdemona, but you can call me Dizzy. Or a few other names, if I like them enough.”

[Crossedes]

Millicent had long stopped caring what noteworthy names were impressed with her, but she could note down another advantage. It was always a benefit to be popular with mother. She could remember tales from her father's days as a coach - to sign new blood to a contract, many times the opinion of the parents could be as influential as the opinion of the ones to sign. "I am flattered." was all she said. Being too endearing or appreciative sickened her, but she could acknowledge the worth of Angela's opinion.

A brief glance told her that her showy prep held the young woman under a spell, and she listened to what poured out during Dizzy's lustful trance. Nothing groundbreaking. Millie did look at her at Dizzy's prompting, ready to spout the generic motivational garbage that made any young lioness puff out her chest and think she could take on the world. But she caught the look in the eye and the smile before she wasted her breath. She was not a young woman waiting to hear that nonsense about how, if she learned to fly, she could topple women of even Millicent's size. No, no. She meant a sort of wrestling this league flaunted as die spezialität. That made Millie's undertaking so much easier.

Before she could latch her talons into the comment, Desdemona introduced herself. "Desdemona is pretty. It is... what is the word..." She called on her limited grasp of Italian. "...attrativa." The only word she could think of that hit close to the English attractive. Living in a world of Romance languages was shit for a German. "Do you like it? Or is it because you don't that you go by Dizzy?"

She finally dropped the leg. "I have no issue with Millicent, but I prefer my friends call me Millie. It's so less..." Menacing. Intimidating. Likely to scare off her potential beneficiaries. "...formal, don't you think?"

[BlackAkuma]

Dizzy had grown up touring through Europe, and while she couldn't say that German was a familiar spot for her, she’d been there enough times to get a decent memory of the place and what it was like. She didn’t hate the place, but she couldn't say it was somewhere she would return to if she had a choice. The people were a little too neat for her tastes, the food a little too bland, the weather a little cold.

Millicent - Millie - was doing wonders to change those perceptions, though. There was a flair to this woman that she was digging, and it helped that she didn’t seem as high on herself as a lot of the older wrestlers tended to be. Mix in that killer body and that rich accent, and it made for a killer combo.

”Attrativa.” Dizzy had a little chuckle at that. Not a half bad pronunciation, especially with that accent. ”It’s usually too many syllables for people. A mouthful. But if you’re going to say it like that, well, you can use it all day. I won’t mind.”

She moved in closer, now, taking a few steps towards the taller woman and skirting around the edge of her personal space. She sniffed and found a distinct, heady scent wafting past her nose, one that made it wrinkle. She didn’t recognize the perfume, but she liked it, whatever it was.

”I’ll go with Millie, if you want, but I think the full name’s better. Has this strong, dominant, commanding ring to it. I like that in a name.” Her eyes took another trip up Millicent’s powerful body, bursting with strength, wrapped in pleasing flesh. ”And in a woman.”