3478/Meeting in the Octogon

Meeting in the Octogon
Date of Scene:	21 September 2020
Location:	The Ocho - Gym in Brooklyn
Synopsis:	Katsumi and Anya meet in the octagon. Wrestling occurs! Also one serious b..londe lady. It's training!
Cast of Characters:	Katsumi Oshiro, Anya Corazon

---

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
So begins Day 2 of Katsumi's exile. All because she had a small panic in Metropolis.

She never felt particularly close to her coworkers. Heck, they're beating each other up on a weekly basis as a part of the job. But she'd never been told to stay away from them before. It was always just kind of understood; they don't get along. But being told she's a risk to everyone else? It sort of just stings. Like they're softening her up for early retirement.

Well, screw that. She won't be wrestling her teammates in the Four Corners of the World event anyway! She doesn't even need to train with them! She can find somewhere else to keep herself sharp, to remind everyone - especially her general manager - why she was chosen to do this career-making extravaganza in the first place! It'd just need to be, you know, subtle. Properly equipped, but... subtle.

As it turns out, she wasn't finding many gyms that included a wrestling or boxing ring she could work.

But what she did find was a little nook in Brooklyn called The Ocho. The walls are made of naked brick, the air is stale, and the rates are low. But by God, they have a single ring dominating the middle of the gym. An octagon. For MMA. Katsumi resigned herself with an expletive. Hell with it, she'd make it work.

And so, Katsumi Oshiro, the Punk Princess of Japan, made efforts for exactly that. Even if the ring doesn't have ropes, or turnbuckles, or really any of the topography she's accustomed to, she's running end to end, drilling hapkido rolls into what /would/ normally be a ropeshoot. Instead, she's just bonking her back and shoulder against the cage wall, causing them to rattle, before dashing ahead again to keep her momentum going.

Her current attire? Not her usual fair of punk-chic. A simple pair of white cross-trainers are on her feet, along with some fluffy socks bundled around her ankles. A pair of pristine white yoga shorts hug her hips, and her midsection is left bare up to a bubblegum pink racerback sportsbra. Long, silky blueblack hair is bound back into a sporty ponytail, utilizing a matching pink scrunchy to keep it in place. Wispy bangs continue to frame her face, however. Last but not least? The ever-present black choker can be found around her neck, centered with gold coin.

Anya Corazon has posed:
The gym isn't heavily used; the city's quiet at the moment, only a few people are here training. Still, the equipment is good and the location is, while rundown, adequate. There are a few in the largeish room that seem to be putting as much effort in as even Katsumi. Actually there's one that's even being a bit loud.

"KICK THE BAG!" screams the trainer, holding a compression bag for her client to drive into. The woman, blonde and tall, looks as if she has a personal vendetta against the younger person that she's got to train. "Come on, MOVE! Don't hold still! You want it? Do you really want anything? Yeah, hate me! I can take it, KICK THE BAG!"

The person she's training is a female, mexican from her skin tone, with a really nice bit of ink on her right bicep. Looks like a spider. She's in white shorts and red sneakers, a grey crop top with a red spider on it, and a...black choker, with a red gem in the center. She has long-ish brown hair...and an expression of hatred on her face.

As she slams her foot up into the bag, the bag moves and she curses in Spanish. "Hold still!" she yells, only to be told that real opponents move, and to try harder. "Fine," she grumps, short on air, and whiffs again as the trainer dodges another kick.

"Enough." The trainer sighs, rolling her eyes. "I'll see if anyone can grapple a bit, since your kicking is shit." The blonde wipes herself off a bit with a towel, then looks around. "Hey! Lady in the ring! You wrestle at all? My kid needs someone to kick her ass sideways."

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro has been weathering the sounds of training for a while. It's not really new to her. After all, she had some rough training to kick off her career, as well. It's grueling. It whips the soft squishiness off of you in a hurry. Or at least, the good training will. But as she runs the non-existent ropes, keeping her cardio high and ring awareness sharp, she starts to listen in a little more. Hard not to.

Finally, her back clatters against the cage wall and the blonde woman is shouting at her.

Katsumi's eyes roll as she's asked if she wrestles. Leaning off the wall, she turns to the woman in question - and catches sight of the 'kid' who needs training. What was brewing up to be a snappy retort instead changes gears.

"Yeah. Yeah, I wrestle," she confirms. No bragging, no bravado. She moves to the cage door and nudges it open with a foot.

"Come on in," she says, this time directed to the girl of Mexican descent. Of note on heritage, despite obviously being of Asian descent herself, Katsumi's handle on English is basically flawless. Only the faintest lilt of an accent colors her accent at times. And the eyes Anya may meet are perhaps rather odd. The irises are mostly an extremely pale green, like washed out jade. But there are a few motes, almost like a bokeh effect, of purpleish pink.

Anya Corazon has posed:
The girl, grabbing some water, looks up and into the ring. She's, all around, boring to look at. None of the pretty things that highlight Katsumi's face, she has brown eyes and brown hair to go with her brown skin. Her trainer is much more the model type, but the mexican girl has good bone structure. She'll turn into something special, and soon. If she doesn't get that nose broken.

"Well, get in," says the trainer. "She's happy to have a sparring partner, aren't you Anya?" The woman has no patience for her girl, but she looks to Katsumi with pride that she doesn't show the girl herself. "Take care of her, please," she says as Anya starts walking their way.

"Yeah, thanks Nina," the girl Anya says as she shoulders into the ring. She looks at Katsumi, frowning, and then offers her hand. "Anya Corazon," she says, her accent firmly placing her as born in, or raised in, Mexico city itself. "I only do freestyle, and she can't give me the variety I need. What do you do?"

She hasn't recognized the woman yet. She will though. Oh yes, she will.

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
And just that quickly, Katsumi is starting to smile at the Mexican girl. She doesn't take the hand. Instead, she plays up the fact that they're polar opposite nationalities. Her arms set to her sides, and she bows forward - not so deeply that she takes her eyes off the girl, but deep enough that it should hopefully be obvious what she's dealing with.

"Oshiro Katsumi," she introduces as she straightens her back again. Fingers lace through the links of the cage door, and she tugs it closed again. "Call me Katsumi, it's cool. I'm a professional wrestler; Punk Princess of the NLWF. How old are ya, Anya?"

She looks young. Not /very/ young, but young enough that it's triggered whatever latent part of her brain that switches off the typical acerbic attitude and sass she's otherwise known for. No, teens and kids are off-limits.

Anya Corazon has posed:
Anya actually gags as the door slams shut behind her. "You're WHAT?" she says, the bow giving her pause as much as the name. She lowers her hand, then turns to glare at Nina. "She's the.." She turns back; Nina doesn't care. "You're a pro! Damn. I'm eighteen!"

"She's sixteen," Nina calls from outside, getting her a glare.

"I'm...sixteen. But I fight like an adult!" She glances at Nina, who gives a handwobble. She turns toward Katsumi and nods firmly. "Are you really as mean as you are on tv? Because I guarantee, Nina over there is worse. I'm here to train."

She's got muscles on her at least, but not the way that Katsumi and her crowd do. There's potential though.

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro's smile remains in place, but shifts from playful to patient. At the little exchange between them, her oddly-hued gaze shifts from Anya to Nina, then back again. Sixteen. That's about what she figured. Eighteen at the top. "It's pretty obvious you take training seriously. I wasn't in as good a shape as you when I was your age," she mentions, motioning carelessly towards the girl's abs on display. "And yeah, of course I'm that mean! What, y'don't believe me?"

The smile turns playful again, if just a moment. She's aware that she isn't behaving in the way that Anya may have seen in the past. But these are different circumstances! "There's no chance Nina's worse," she scoffs, chin uptilting in theatric defiance. And though she's playing it a little aloof, it does her heart good to be recognized. Even if as a baddie.

The Japanese girl strolls around Anya, her hands linking neatly behind her back. "So what're you training for? MMA?" She pauses abruptly, eyes widening with interest. "Professional wrestling?"

Anya Corazon has posed:
"I'm,"

"She's not allowed to answer that," Nina says from ringside, interrupting Anya's speech. It gets her another glare, and might just lend some credence to Anya whinging on about her trainer's roughness.

"College scholarship," Anya says, rolling her eyes to confirm the lie she's been clearly told to tell. "Women's team. Ignore her, we're in here alone now." Anya gives Nina the finger and then faces off with Katsumi, starting to circle in return, hands raised in an open guard. "All my matches start on the ground. This'll be a change."

She has a hint of starstruck in her eyes still though, her face not really truly focused. And she whispers, "It's an honor to meet you ma'am," totally ruining the whole toughness mood. Maybe she's a budding olympian or something. Hard to tell with her Handler keeping her quiet.

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
The abrupt intrusion of Nina gets a more flat sort of look from Katsumi. What's the big deal? Girls are allowed to wrestle in America, right? What is she, Mexican royalty and this is taboo? Ugh.

Her attention returns to Anya, noting her by-the-books stance, while she herself continues to pace around her in that nonchalant manner. Her gaze travels from her face to her feet, then back up again when she speaks, evaluating her stance more than sizing her up for an opening.

Aawww. It's an honor? Really? Not many people say that. Katsumi's head ducks, eyes briefly happy-shutting in appreciation. It was /so/ worth it coming to this weird little gym today.

Alright, focusing. Let's help this girl out.

"So, I was just asking, because..."

Suddenly, the Punk Princess darts forward. Her hands unclasp, and instead attempt to engage Anya in a sudden, traditional lockup. Her right hand moves to the girl's collar, while her left hand grabs for Anya's right elbow. But once cinched on - assuming it is in the first place - Katsumi will only attempt to hold her there, keeping her in that tight proximity and intent on resisting the other girl's efforts to tilt or twist them around.

See, the side benefit of a close lockup is discretion. And though there aren't many people in the gym, the standard noises - including those of feet scuffling against the mat - will hopefully help mask anything being murmured.

Katsumi's head tilts in slightly, her gaze attempting to match Anya's. "...because it'll change how I do things. If you're wanting to learn pro wrestling.. we'll do that. If it's MMA, that's other stuff. If it's the college style, we can kind'a try that, too... or is it really a secret?"

Anya Corazon has posed:
The clinch happens, Anya doesn't try to stop it. She tries an immediate turn, to see if she can shift the incoming mass, but since Katsumi's goal isn't to power through it fails. She's there, up close and personal, and her muscles are rigid. Good power, but not there yet. She does, however, adapt so fast it's unbelievable. Her balance is on point! Nice.

"Ngh," she says with the focus of someone doing real work. She shifts to get low, gets countered, and then tries to push against Katsumi's grip. For some reason she seems to feel she can do it, even though there's no way in hell. Not without another year's training under her belt.

But it lets her hear what's said, and to think. And, with a heart that's racing and a face red with effort, she whispers, 'real combat'. Then 'no holds barred.." as she tries to slip a foot in, a textbook trip. She hasn't -learned- no holds barred, that was as collegiate as it comes. Tame and predictable.

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro knits her brow a little at the response. No holds barred. Real combat. What is this, self-defense?

Every little twitch of the girl's muscles receives a countermeasure from the practiced veteran. Her gaze dips to her arms, then back up to her face. She wants to teach her, darn it! But maybe just being a little rough with her will be an okay start. Or-

Anya's leg brushes hers. Katsumi's foot shifts back to avoid the hook. Cheeky little thing. Fine, she'll teach her something, just to see how vicious she might be, or how eager to learn. Perhaps consider it Katsumi testing the waters with her.

The Japanese girl suddenly pushes up against Anya's gripped elbow and attempts to pivot around her smaller opponent's frame, and promptly clamp her arms down around the girl's abs.

"Alright. Gotcha in a waistlock. Could happen to anyone." She pushes her torso tight against Anya's back. "Not enough of an angle to tag me with an elbow. Do you know how to use a wristlock to get outt'a this? Can ya show me?"

Anya Corazon has posed:
Abs and core tight against the sudden grab, Anya almost manages to get in an elbow on Katsumi's way in. She has no compunctions now, the starstruck aspect having passed when things got serious, fading away like the wind. She experiments, quickly and with thought; her feet still on the ground, she knows how precarious her balance is and she grabs at the wrists holding her. No words now, she's unable to talk and still breathe.

Actually even breathing is secondary.

She gauges distance to the side of the ring; the veteran kept them too far away, she's got nothing there. So yes, she can pry the hands open, but not instinctively. She tries it wrong once, then in a way that will open the hold. Then she's twisting, the instant she's got enough room to do so, and trying to get around. To reverse the hold.

"How would...you do it?" she manages, gasping. Barely, clumsy and sloppy, but she did get out.

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro waits patiently for Anya to make her move, but she isn't making it easy on her. She pulls, Katsumi tightens around her stomach. She twists, and Katsumi cinches against her waist. By now, the diva would've probably whipped her back into a German suplex. But that isn't the point of this, is it? She feels the girl pulling on her forearms - nope, that isn't getting anywhere. "C'mon, you can do better..," she murmurs. "More like- ah! Y-yeah, like.. eep!"

Anya manages to find a gap, dip the hold, and lock her arms around Katsumi's stomach from behind in a reversal! Her own midsection is tight, toned, tensing to try to avoid being squeezed too tightly. The girl, sixteen or not, clearly lifts. She's used to rough play, but no need to give her /that/ much of an edge!

Her hands set against Anya's forearms, stomach pushing against the grip with each tense inhale. "O-okay... see this..?" Her hands grip onto Anya's right wrist. "I'm gonna.. twist it outwards..." She begins to do so, forcing the connecting elbow to, well, bow out to the side. "..see what that does to the arm? Now, I.." She pulls her body towards the bowed gap created by the arm, slipping beneath it and to Anya's side; all while keeping the wrist in her grip, forcing the arm to wrench low.

"Just like that. I could take ya down for a fujiwara armbar from here! But I'm not gonna. Just wanted to teach ya a little something."

And with that, the wristlock will be released, and Katsumi will try to back up a bit from her. "Okay. For reals this time. Let's wrestle."

Anya Corazon has posed:
Breathing harshly, Anya rounds off against Katsumi. She grins almost evilly, staying low and wide. "More of a...flyer myself," she says, but she doesn't go that route. "But I want...to learn this," she adds, looking for an opening. She thinks she sees one, reaching for Katsumi's left arm...it's retracted, the tease having made her move.

Anya's balance is like perfection though. She can't be lured off balance. When Katsumi reaches for the obvious lure her opponent is in position. Not so easy it seems. Unfortunately she makes an obvious ploy, getting frustrated, and goes for the right shoulder.

Anya reaches to grab Katsumi's right hand with her left, the other going in deep for the sholder grab. She's aiming for a shoulder toss straight out of Judo. Or any wrestling handbook. If she'd done it a thousand more times it might've worked. But this time?

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro can't help but notice that perfect balance when she makes her feints. And Katsumi's stance is practiced, precise, and perfect - but not supernatural. She sinks a bit, legs widening, and hands raised. Fingers splay, ready to grapple in any way that presents itself advantageous. That first grab gets a little swat from the wrestler, but she may have underestimated her technique just a little. Either that, or she's playing into it. Her shoulder is caught, and the throw is straight up Judo. Katsumo lets out a surprised squeak, her slender body drawn over the younger girl's frame to suddenly land on the mat on her back with a thump. "Unf!"

Anya Corazon has posed:
A sound from outside the ring is igored, something that Nina yells being shunted to another part of Anya's brain. She backs off right away, that killer instinct not wanting to dive in quite yet. The mexican fighter frowns, the hesitation getting her another yell from her coach slash trainer slash bitch.

She does come in, but Katsumi has plenty of time to get up at that point. It puts Anya in a rough position, aiming for a leg hold instead of the more advantageous pin she should have been trying for. "You're going...easy on me," she says, trying to wrap up Kat's left leg. "Don't."

That's probably what Nina is trying to say too, not that anyone cares.

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro is playing a game with Anya. It's called 'Let's ignore the blonde woman'. They're both winning.

This moment is more about Anya and Katsumi. And though Katsumi is, indeed, not cutting loose on her, it's giving her something to think about besides her situation. So that's an overall benefit. But what the Mexican says as she approaches gets a small frown. She's sure about that?

Katsumi purses her lips, then decides to give her what she asked for. More or less. Maybe not full-bore. She's undecided there. But she's definitely going to up the ante.

She allows her leg to be taken, with just the intention of letting Anya open herself up. Only then, that leg chambers and fires back out, aiming to tag her in the stomach with her heel. Should that stun her as intended, the punkette's legs both curl inwards, leading her into a graceful backroll onto her shoulders, and ultimately into a crouched position.

Anya Corazon has posed:
Anya, focused on taking the leg, isn't protecting herself. Not nearly well enough, and the opening she makes from the other, highly powerful weapon that Katsumi has available is not only easy, it's stupid. As she's cranking on Kat's ankle she gets nailed, and hard, her breath coming out of her with a noise that might be rib.

Anya, rolling on the ground as Katsumi gets gracefully to her feet, is in no position to defend herself as Kat returns to a proper stance. More a matter of getting to her knees and trying not to throw up.

"Yeah, that'll do for today," says blondie from outside as she opens the cage door. "Good lesson. Can I hire you for another one sometime lady?" She walks right past Kat, her eyes wary but arrogant. Then puts a hand on Anya who is finally starting to look like she can breathe.

Nina has an aura about her. She clearly doesn't just lift. She's military trained and has no openings. None at all.

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro maybe didn't mean to blast her midsection /that/ hard. Dangit. She immediately has a look of worry, and as soon as Nina calls for a break, the diva dashes in to Anya's side and crouches beside her. "Ahhh, hey!," she fusses, a little more of the Japanese accent slipping into her voice. "You okay? I didn't mean to hit that hard! You said to not go easy, and- my bad!"

Katsumi, who is unerringly protective of younger people to a point of noticeably uncharacteristic, just kicked the Hell out of one. And that's eating her up.

She reaches for Anya's shoulder; not to pull her up, but in some effort to be comforting. "Take it slow. No rush. Just breathe." And she winces. "I'm so sorry."

Finally, her focus lifts to Nina, and she blinks. "You serious? After that?"

Anya Corazon has posed:
Nina shrugs, not bending to help Anya in the slightest. "She needs to toughen up. You can fight, we can pay." She seems to take it as if Anya not only doesn't deserve help, but really should have already shrugged it off and gotten to her feet.

"I'm...fine, thanks," Anya says, her gaze glaring at Nina. She softens a little looking to her opponent, who clearly is the less annoying person in this ring to her. "'salright chica," she says, slowly taking the help and getting up. "She's right. On...some level." The word she calls Nina then isn't fully translatable, but it clearly makes the woman blush.

The blonde turns to leave. "Shower. We have other work to do." Then she's gone, annoyed but professional. Anya, however, grips Katsumi's wrist, if she's allowed. "You did what I asked. Thank you." Those eyes are deep. Too old for her age. Then she says, ignoring Nina, "So. Again?" Grin. Oh, that grin.

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro exhales a gentle puff of air when Anya confirms she's alright. She can relax a little. It still bothers her that she hurt a young person, but not as much, the more it seemed she wanted it.

She looks after the blonde, unsure how to respond. She's only here for a little while! Then it's back to Japan, and beating up people guilt-free! Getting a little money on the side wouldn't be bad, though.

Suddenly, her wrist is snagged. Katsumi's attention zips back to Anya, startled at first. Finally, the punkette exhales a breeze of a sigh. "You're a weirdo, 'chica'," she chides, but with some sweetness to her voice. Her gaze lingers on her eyes a moment, studying them. "...Alright. Again. Tomorrow, or.. whatever. But if we wrestle, it'll be more my style. If you're gonna learn from me, it'll be the way I do it best so you get the most out've it." With a smirk, she attempts to bump her fist against Anya's previously-battered stomach. "Don't worry, you'll get beat up plenty."

Anya Corazon has posed:
"Wouldn't have it any other way," she says. Then, tilting her head, she fistbumps the asian girl, and adds, "I...have no idea how to say that in Japanese." She grins wider, then stands. Stands, straightens herself out, and then checks her stomach. "Good kick," she adds, winking. Then she proceeds to try not to limp out of the ring.

After her match with Oshiro Katsumi, the Punk Princess of the NLWF.