L.A.W. - League of Anime Wrestling

Lucas Cranston was no stranger to the gym. He was, after all, a former professional bodybuilder, and he was used to spending long hours on his routine to hone his physique into the peak of its potential. That hadn't changed, even after he made the jump to wrestling. Although his new career proved more demanding - after all, he needed to train for function now, and not just form - he wasn't going to let that get in his way. Luke was cocky and assured he had it in him to dominate, no matter the pursuit, and he intended to put his money where his mouth was. If he needed to train harder to have an edge, he'd do it!

"Ah, 10...11...12!"

Now, Luke found himself well into a round of bench press reps. As he completed another set, he set the barbell down to catch his breath, wiping some sweat off his brow with a nearby cloth before he lay back on the bench. Taking a look around at his surroundings, not much had changed. Sure, he was in Japan now, taking full advantage of his access to an official LAW gym and all the top-of-the-line equipment that entailed. But really, his routine wasn't much different from what it had always been, other than taking on more strength-building exercises to stay competitive in the ring. It had worked well enough for him this far, and he saw no reason to stop now. Not as long as it still brought him success!

With that bit of reflection out of the way, Luke lay back down and took the barbell in his hands for another set. Time to get back to work!

The same gym had another occupant, a 5'9 ", 155-pound gladiator named Marius Domitian Scipio. The Roman was busy rapping the speed bag with his knuckles, hitting it repeatedly with his taped fists. The bag rapped against the wooden stand over and over, giving a crackle with each quick and rhythmic jab, his timing perfect.

"50...51...52..53..."

Marius's mind drifted, as his hands smashed into the heavy bag over and over again. "Rome....The Eternal City, I should bring back one of the L.A.W titles to Rome and see if the Mayor'll give me a triumph like Caesar or Belisaurius..." They were amateurish, kind-of-juvenile thoughts on what success might look like. That was fine. His only real ambitions were to relive some ancient Roman glories, a fan of a society he had nothing biologically to do with. It didn't matter. He still molded his body to perfect fighting conditions and was able to parlay his enthusiasm into a real winning streak in mixed-martial-arts matches.

CLANK!

The gladiator heard the clang of plate-on-plate and realized he wasn't alone. His ears perked up as he turned to look across the gym.

"You there...hey! Come over and watch me hit this bag!"

At least, Luke thought he was getting back to work. He had gotten so caught up in his own thoughts that he wasn't paying much attention to what was going on in the gym around him. But practically the moment his fingers wrapped around the barbell for another set, he heard a voice calling out to him - and, turning his head in that direction, he raised an eyebrow at the sight that there was another man across the room. Luke huffed for a moment. Right when he was getting back in the groove, of course something had to happen to break his train of thought. He could only hope it'd be worth it.

Setting the barbell back down and crawling off the bench, the former bodybuilder stretched to his full height, taking a moment to roll the fatigue out of his shoulders. Then, he walked over to Marius, hard at work with the bag. Realizing his fellow gym-goer was a stranger to him, Luke regarded him with a raised eyebrow. He was a good deal smaller than him - his physique was still impressive, of course, but Luke easily towered over him, to say nothing of how he eclipsed him in weight. If he wanted to try and impress him, it had better be worth it. Yeah, perhaps it was cliche to say...but did this guy even lift?

"What's up? You got a reason for taking up my time?"