Fight Club II (Tasha)

[Ophelia]

She had a developed interest in trying to fight, and so the discovery of the all-female fight club was something she was incredibly enthusiastic to become a part of. This fight club was locked in the corner of a building only a short distance from the school, and she wouldn’t be surprised if some of the members of her school already attended. Apparently it was quite prestigious, as far as an underground fight club full of women who wanted a few extra bucks went. Ophelia had taken off her lipstick and girly dress and accessories and prepared for her A-game. She had to make a good impression or she’d be cut out, and she knew it. Ophelia walked into the building and smiled at the woman in front. She shook her hand curtly and smiled. “I am here to join the beginner’s tournament…” she said simply. The woman nodded and took her downstairs to get dressed, pointing out everything on the way down. “This here’s the left side where the fighters come from. There’s the right side, which is where your opponent comes from…also, you’re gonna have to wear a mask to cover up that pretty face of yours. It’s just policy, don’t want anybody fighting you outside the club, get my jist hun?”

Ophelia nodded. It had been a while since she’d really fought at all, but she knew that getting back into the rhythm of things would significantly help her…after being at that school for a week, she’d learned that it was a sort of kill or be killed situation. She was not one for being killed, so she’d have to learn again how to be a killer. So Ophelia slipped on the mask and outfit; it was something like wrestling gear, skin tight and made for maximum mobility. She sighed and headed out to the arena to fight her opponent. She felt nervous; but even if she lost, it wouldn’t matter…she just needed to try, at the least. It wasn’t bad, since nobody would know who she was right off the bat…it would all be alright. She exited to the arena and heard the applause of several spectator.

[Tash]

She hadn't done this in a while and it felt good to wear her gear again. Her thick unruly hair was plaited, tied back in a tight bun and covered with a black hair net. They offered light dancing shoes but Tash always preferred to fight barefoot. The ebony suit fit her body like a glove and she fitted the mask over her face with a little smile. She used to be enough of a regular that they gave her her own mask - some talented artist had, as a favor, painted a black panther with acid green eyes snarling and rampant up the cheek and temple: it stood out stark against the white.

Usually she had a bit of a laugh at her own self consciousness when she put on the black suit. Most of the girls here were twig thin or willowy model like little things. Petite and perfect. Well Tash was no heavy weight by any means: years of Krav Maga training and a variety of tomboyish activities had granted her a toned figure, but nevertheless her Haitian and Italian heritage had branded her with an undeniable abundance of curves. She stepped out into the ring, her steps light as she stretched her arms and shoulders out behind her neck, and was a little surprised to see a girl that more than matched her size. Well, she thought, baring her teeth in a little smile, this would be a fun change.

The girls may not know her name but they knew her mask and she recieved a round of applause. It surprised her and amused her mildly and she gave a small wave before stepping into the middle of the floor to await her opponent. She extended a slender right hand, knuckles laced with a spider's web of scars, for a firm shake. This might be a fight but it was friendly fire to her. Fun and games, really. Fighting for fun a little offbeat? Maybe, but Tash wasn't going to be the one to deny it. No, she certainly wasn't.