Kindred Crush(ers) (Liesmith)

[Winter]

"Ehhh Ariel? You already did your fifteen."

Arlise Christiaens stopped mid-squat and looked over her shoulder, her body straining to keep the bar on her shoulders aloft. She blinked in confusion at the woman at the next station - an evidently Japanese woman with green hair and pigtails who wore more muscles and curves than clothes - who seemed to split time between admiring her ass and looking mildly concerned. "Wh..." She choked on the word before breathing and attempting it again. "What?"

The woman fiddled with her earbuds while she leaned on her own squat bar. "I was checking out your form - closely - and you did fifteen squats your first two sets. Then you started looking liiiiike you were off in that ruined castle under the moon this set and kept going and going and gooooooooing~"

...No wonder Arlise's thighs burned hotter than a bonfire. She tensed and forced her way up, and the woman scooted over to grasp it and pull it into place on the rack with one arm. "Thank you... for noticing and telling me. How many was it this set?" "Lost count at twenty-one... but let me tell you, beibī, they were working wonders~" The woman's eyes squarely landed on her ass again, and Arlise, flirting with embarrassment about the situation, lightly snickered.

"Thanks?"

"Yeeeep!"

She went her way with a wink, and Arlise turned to her towel, promptly burying her face in it as she wicked the sweat from her skin. Her somewhat clearer head had not wandered so readily lately, but monotonous tasks like lifting sometimes pulled her deeply into thought. Frankly, for all that had improved for her over past weeks... the situation with her sister had come back to rear its ugly head yet again. It served as the one storm that remained over her head, and just when she had started to view her other problems as nothing but passing clouds.

Having finished her workout, she gathered her belongings and started to trudge across the gym, eager to strip her sweaty black gymwear and freshen up in the showers after a cooldown. She continued to dab away at her hair, trying to look presentable even after such a hard workout. The gym had filled in the past half-hour, and she did not wish for so many eyes to see her looking like a slob. She kept with the halfhearted beauty routine until she found the gym's one track so she could finish her workout with a couple of walking laps.

"Geez, those legs..."

Arlise, having only just been ogled and frankly accustomed to comments about her legs, lifted her head with a sly smile to greet whoever had noticed her. However, only one man a few steps away looked in her direction, and that feminine voice had not belonged to him. She almost brushed it off and carried on, but she spotted them - two women with their backs turned to her, watching another woman on the nearby mats.

A woman in a leotard. A woman in a leotard worthy of comments such as geez, those legs.

Arlise could not quite see her yet, but she spotted her in snapshots as she seemingly twisted and turned and tumbled with grace - a glimpse of her head here, a leg there, her whole figure in the air for a moment before she descended again. Nathalie, damn her, could move with such agility, but Nathalie had a ballet dancer's or runner's figure - lithe and lean. As Arlise whirled around the two women to step on the mats and outright ogle the woman in the midst of her routine, she could call the woman many lovely things, but "lithe and lean" did not qualify for a figure thicker than her own in all the most important places.

The redhead's eyes never wandered, and her tongue moved faster than her brain. "No woman with a body like yours should be able to move that nimbly!"

[Liesmith]

Samiya’s relationship with gymnastics was complex.

Gymnastics as a formal sport, she kinda hated and almost everything about it.

The scoring (so boring), the body shaming and bullying…

Thanks, no thanks.

But, if she just wanted to cut loose and burn some serious stress without having to deal with any idiot trainers, gymnastics was her sweet spot. Give her a mat and just let her go as her worries fell away along with the minor inconvenience of gravity.

Clad in a leotard that clung to her skin like oil and cut like those she’d used to wear for competitions, the Schoolgirl Assassin blazed across the floor, those thickly powerhouse haunches driving her through her tumbling pass with fluid grace and incredible power as though she’d never left.

Landing, placing one foot back, she flung her arms up and her head back, an exuberant smile stretching her mouth wide.

Then that voice cut into her reverie and her eyes narrowed.

It was nothing she hadn’t heard before, be it from trainers or from teammates, and Samiya’s confidence in herself was far too ironclad to let an old slight rankle too much. But that didn’t mean she appreciated hearing it.

Only the tone kept her from snapping back instantly, whoever it was sounding almost… could it be… impressed?…

“Ballast,” Samiya said, deadpan, turning to face the speaker as she folded her arms under her bust in a gesture that only enhanced its already impressive size, simultaneously shifting her weight to one hip.

It was a redhead facing her, exercise-blush staining her otherwise porcelain pale skin in equal contrast to the pitch-black of her workout gear. Built like a fighter, held herself like one too.

Click-click went Samiya’s mental database, searching for the name she knew went with the face.

[Winter]

Entirely captured by her view of the woman's body as her routine slowed to a stop, Arlise needed a moment to comprehend that she had said anything. Once she did, she needed another few seconds to process the woman's singular word, her gray eyes fluttering as she tried to determine if she even knew what the word meant.

Oh, yes, of course she did. A ballast, a weight. But she continued to study the shapely woman's face, trying to determine what she could have possibly meant... until the stranger's crossed arms brought to her attention precisely what could serve her as a ballast. The redhead rarely laughed aloud - demure giggles suited her more often - but she outright chortled at the woman's comment until she covered her mouth. "Love that! It all helps with balance, then." She likely didn't have to repeat the woman's meaning back to her, but she had yet shoved her foot deeply enough into her mouth.

Entirely ignoring the faint threat in the woman's stance and her deadpan tone, the Belgian beauty strode further onto the mats to approach her, eclipsing the two that had begun watching and seemed disappointed that the show had come to an end. Arlise needed to greet this woman who could flip and fly with such ease, even with those curves. Her eyes freely scanned her. "Well, you have a lovely ballast and lovely shape. I'm glad to hear it helps you with balance. I know a little about that too..." She twisted a hip and looked down at herself, her own healthy, pin-up curves on display in the process. "But I don't have as much luck with the sort of mat work you were doing. I enjoyed watching." Anyone could have mistaken her tone for flirting, though she meant it genuinely.

She straightened and extended a hand. "Arlise."

[Liesmith]

Under other circumstances, Samiya would have perhaps, at best, given the redhead the iciest shoulder she could manage. Or blown up in the redhead’s face, with an eye to ‘inviting’ the woman onto the mats with her so that Samiya could show her just what else she could do with a ‘body like hers’.

Two things had stopped her; she was still feeling the buzz from hitting that series of stunts, the adrenaline kick from flying high easing the sharpest of her edges. And the feeling that, whoever the interrupter was, they sounded maybe more impressed than insulting. Maybe.

But there was still a subtle twist to her mouth, a tension to her shoulders. If she didn’t like what the redhead – click-clatter-click went her thoughts – had to say…

Fortunately (for the redhead, in Samiya’s entirely balanced and unbiased opinion), things didn’t get that far.

There was a pause after the Assassin spoke, just long (and awkward) enough for her weight to shift, her eyes to narrow. The redhead cut through the deepening tension though; she laughed, a loud honest cackle.

Samiya relaxed, just a fraction.

“You’d be surprised,” She said, unfurling her arms, letting one hang loose while planting the other firmly on her arched hip as she watched the redhead approach (even as she ignored the two twittering idiots of the peanut gallery still stood on the sidelines).

Carefully. Distrustfully.

A non-committal ‘hmm’ was her only response at first, as though to say ‘so?’. Samiya’s bra size told her that much, she didn’t need this woman’s input. Even if the redhead’s saucy display of her own voluptuous physique very much proved her point – though Samiya’s eyes were far more intent on the shift of taut muscles underneath her impressive curves, particularly the massive quads that surfaced from thighs near a match for her own.

She knew that face. Why couldn’t she…?

Ah. The name clicked just in time as the redhead reached out, introducing herself.

“… Christiaens,” Samiya completed, smiling, “I know.”

She clasped the redhead’s hand in her own, squeezing a little more than firmly.

“I’ve seen your matches, Titania.”

Because naturally Samiya liked to make a point of letting people know just how much she knew about them. Or perhaps this was just how she flirted.

Either way…

[Winter]

Self-preservation did not rank highly on Arlise's priority list with a woman this impressive in her headlights.

The redhead barely noticed any tension until she had already sidled closer, and by then, enough of that tension had dissipated that she thought she could ease away the rest with her charms and friendliness. It seemed she had the right of it - while the woman grasped her hand tightly enough to intimidate most anyone else, Arlise's smile only twisted into one more disarming as she squeezed back. Besides - it sounded as if the woman knew her, or at least knew of her exploits in the ring.

"Oh have you?", she rhetorically asked, brushing sweaty red hair back over her ear. She wished she looked more presentable for a new encounter, but she knew well that many people liked the sweaty, flushed look after a workout. She would work that potential appeal as best she could, she supposed. for a good impression.

Once they unclasped, she retreated only far enough to again give the woman a once-over, drop her bag, and let her hands rest on her hips. "And what did you think of what you saw?"

[Liesmith]

This… wasn’t exactly what Samiya had been expecting. Not that she’d laid out an exact scenario for how her first meeting with Arlise ‘Titania’ Christiaens would go but, if she hypothetically had considered the idea, flirting hadn’t featured.

Not that she was precisely complaining; she could appreciate the value of a good show as much as anyone. Always nice to get a good look at her potential future competition.

She just… yeah.

Not what she expected.

The grip though; that was every bit what she’d expected, easily matching her own strength with the promise of more to come if needed. Though clearly no match for the redhead’s lower body, there was still plenty of supple muscle packing those arms even at rest.

Samiya, no weakling herself, didn’t try and ramp things up like some macho meathead. Instead she just let it go, taking a step back herself as Arlise let her bag fall, ran her eyes quite obviously up and down Samiya’s frame.

Who just quirked her head in with an insouciant ‘yes I did, now what are you going to do about it?’ attitude.

Turned out… nothing. Except ask what she thought about it.

Something of a loaded question though it wasn’t as if the gymnast-turned-grappler had ever had an issue with throwing her opinions around and if Arlise was going to ask…

Samiya just shrugged, mock-casually.

“I think you’ve got some cool moves,” She flashed a grin, “Actually, I’ve improved on one. But your LAW record sucks. Sanders I get but Tantka? Domino? Kinda pathetic...”

Samiya rolled her eyes.

“Your indie stuff was so much better. ‘Specially that scissor series you had with… LaCroix, right? Got some great tips on technique from that one.”

She folded her arms, half-expecting a tantrum but unsure now if that was what she’d get. Though the part of her that wanted to have the redhead’s throat firmly between her thighs was very definitely hoping that Arlise would make an issue of it…

[Winter]

Arlise didn't know how successfully she hid her pout, but she tried.

She well knew the common tendency for bluntness among wrestlers - the nature of their sport called for it more often than not. Arlise, ever lacking self-awareness, did not see herself as quite so blunt despite having trotted over and dropped an unsolicited comment that one could construe as either an insult or blatant lecherousness no more than a minute earlier. Still, she considered herself gentle with her comments toward others. She certainly would have never teased them over any losses.

And what did she mean by "improved on one"? The redhead blinked at her, mostly succeeding in her attempts to maintain her smile.

But that smile renewed itself and became an outright grin the moment she heard LaCroix. That tit. Arlise would not have called many women tits - or even lesser insults - but she considered LaCroix a tit and considered her eventual destruction of the woman as one of the highlights of her career. Her discomfort melted away. "Ohhhh youuuu..." Her animated pointing nearly had her poking the woman in the chest. "...must have been a fan if you know about LaCroix. None of the other wrestlers in this place have even brought up my indie career, and LaCroix was not for a championship so few would know about her. I beat her... solely for the satisfaction." She winked.

[Liesmith]

Samiya caught something of a reaction to her remarks, though she wasn’t too sure which bit the redhead hadn’t liked the taste of. To be fair, it wasn’t like the other woman’s W/L record was bad, Samiya just couldn’t see why it wasn’t more like five-three instead.

Eh, not her problem.

And if Christiaens didn’t like it, she shouldn’t have asked.

Maybe she was wondering which of her moves Samiya’d improved on. Well, she’d have to check out Samiya’s own matches then, because this Schoolgirl Assassin wasn’t giving that game away so easily.

Whatever it was,

Samiya tensed a little, at the finger jabbing, only to relax again as it became clear Arlise wasn’t about to go for her. She’d give herself good odds against Christiaens anyway but, with how sweaty and wrung out the redhead looked, Samiya definitely fancied her chances.

Didn’t mean that there weren’t wrestlers in Titania’s shoes who wouldn’t let their big egos make bad decisions for them.

She couldn’t help but preen a little at what the redhead went on to say though; seemingly Samiya’s competitive streak did extend even to being a better fangirl than most, despise the term though she might.

It wasn’t fangirling. It was research. Massive difference.

“If there’s footage of it, I’ve watched it,” her tone was definitely smug, because some of those matches had not been easy to find at all, “I like to know who I might be up against. Specially the ones who can wreck a ten year vet so badly she’s got to be helped to the back.”

[Winter]

This woman intrigued her.

Of course, she had intrigued Arlise before, but hearing her state that she had sought out any and all footage - and Arlise chose to take that comment as footage of Arlise herself - tickled her so much that she almost wriggled with happiness. The woman's mention that she searched for potential ways to strategize a victory against Arlise using that footage did not at all dampen the redhead's spirits. She had her talons in the opportunity to talk up one of her finest experiences and victories with someone who had already caught her eye, and she would not let go anytime soon.

It also made her wonder what footage existed out there. She might have avoided watching back videos and clips of herself, but curiosity sometimes got the better of her.

Thoughts for later. She dug her talons in more tightly. "Of course, you would not see from the video, but after those matches, she had to have a, ahhhh..." She looked to the ceiling and wiggled her fingers, looking for the words in English. She couldn't summon them, so she uttered them in French first, then came up with her best English equivalent. "...discectomie cervicale antérieure et fusion. The surgery where they remove a bad part of your neck and fuse parts together."

She likely sounded as if she bragged over an injury, so she continued. "I did not intend to hurt her, but she kept asking and asking for those matches. She never held back from hurting me, so I only wrestled with my best. Such a stubborn woman, but even she gave in over time and with enough pressure." A sparkle flicked across her already-bright eyes, and she looked to the woman expectantly, before realizing...

"Oh! I did not catch your name."

[Liesmith]

Technically, Christiaens wasn’t wrong. While she was hardly the only wrestler Samiya had obsessively stalked researched, she had been the only reason that the tattooed girl had even glanced at those matches.

If it got her the chance to pick the woman’s brain in person, well, she’d no complaints.

And things had taken a somewhat different twist to what she was expecting.

Samiya had actually twigged to something being wrong; she’d taken a cursory glance at Lara LaCroix’s record afterwards. There was a gaping hole a year long after her last match against Arlise, a hole Samiya had mentally put down to the extent of the humiliation.

A ten year veteran of the business, seemingly with a major rep for her legs, coming up short multiple times against a twenty-year old rookie? It seemed like it fit, so she went with it.

Now she looked at the redheaded wrestler with new interest, not quite sure how to take that story. Oh, sure, in one way Samiya knew she ought to be outraged. Wrestler solidarity, code of conduct, blah-blah-waffle-waffle.

But she really couldn’t care less if Christiaens had ended LaCroix’s career. No, what was exercising Samiya’s mind was a simpler question – was it just an accident like she was saying.

She couldn’t help the instinctive flick of her gaze down, briefly tracing the contours of those meaty legs again, before her eyes snapped back to meet their grey counterparts.

Nah. ‘Over time and with enough pressure’. And that smirk. Maybe it hadn’t exactly been deliberate but Arlise Christiaens clearly wasn’t losing any sleep over it (Samiya didn’t think she would in her shoes either). Something to remember should they ever be pitted against each other.

At which point, the European wrestler finally twigged that she’d not got her name. Oh well.

“Didn’t throw it,” Samiya pointed out with an off-handed shrug, “It’s Samiya. Samiya Pedroza.”