But it's been a few days. She's mentally prepared for the next challenge. Or so she thought. The message helpfully translated by her phone detailed what her next bout would be, and her it nearly sent poor Nana Lola loco trying to figure out why precisely they'd be expecting her grandbaby to wear a swimsuit for it. That was an awkward conversation. And some mental gymnastics. And probably a healthy dose of blissful reality denial in the process, assuredly confident that this is just how the big time does things. They have special themed matches! And special locations! Naturally it'd be more thrilling for the competitors to dress for the occasion! No one blinks at the volleyball tournaments in mandatory bikinis!
She spent most of the day snooping around for a swimsuit she felt would reliably stand up to the rigors of competitive grappling and the wildly energetic athletics she employs in the ring. But nothing doing today. It made her a little nervous that she might have to compromise and risk wardrobe malfunctions just due to not being able to navigate the city effectively enough to find what she needed. But the thought was pushed out of her mind when she stumbled upon something... magical.
Dave & Buster's. Right here in Japan.
She'd been once or twice with her family in Mexico. But imagine seeing it here of all places!
Deciding firmly to relax away the stressors of her upcoming bout, Camille lets thoughts of her alter-ego be put aside in favor of just... being her maskless self for a while. Not that she'd be doing anything to garner attention, specifically! She's not even dressed in any kind of eye-catching way, so far as she knows! Just her regular, easily-overlooked self.
At this point, the Latina has found her way over to a complicated vector game requiring high levels of dexterous coordination between two simultaneous joysticks. She has no idea what it's called, because its title is written in the mysterious moon-shaped etchings of the far east, and she doesn't recognize it. But she's figured out the game quickly enough. So now she stands poised in front of the cabinet, her long, thick hair resting loose against her back, crucifix necklace dangling a little in front of her chest, hazel-green eyes glued to the screen in deep focus and concentration. Even her tongue pokes out slightly from the corner of her lips.
The game itself is a rail-shooter, and each joystick controls a rotating turret. Both are required to keep enemy ships from shredding the player's. And for Camille, it's coming down to the wire. Hull integrity is down to 20% and dropping bit by bit!
