4688/A scene!

A scene!
Date of Scene:	11 January 2021
Location:	Location
Synopsis:	No description
Cast of Characters:	Katsumi Oshiro, Atlin

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Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Everything is in its place and ready to go. Showtime is bearing heavily on the horizon, and Katsumi remains on the outs with her group. It's been so long, she's actually starting to worry. Nevermind that she's fairly confident the rest of Team Japan has given up on her to focus purely on their own in-group's performance, she needs to do well for /herself/. She may not have anyone to train on, but she can run drills and vault about a ring. It'll have to do.

But where does one find a ring?

The dingy one she'd met She-Hulk in to help her out is crowded during the day, and the ring very much occupied with boxers training. The other gym Team Japan is using is off-limits to her. So she's had to find a hole-in-the-wall, run-down place in the middle of Brooklyn. But she's here, and the ring is in... functional.. condition. So, at present, Katsumi is running the ropes.

Decked in hot pink athletic gear, Katsumi Oshiro may look a little more princess than punk today. Ponytail bounces along behind her as she darts from one end of the ring to the other, pivoting cleanly on heel to press her back into the ropes and vault in the opposite direction. It's solid cardio.

Atlin has posed:
Where Atlin had came from, almost anywhere could be a ring, a training field or a fighting square. Such was the nature of Bana-Mighdall, where every member of the population was a warrior to some degree.

Coming to 'Man's World' had been an adjustment for many reasons, but not least of all was that people were different, culture was different. Not everyone could or would fight, it wasn't easy to test her limits or challenge herself.

Herself dressed in a pair of shorts and a deep red sports jacket she'd yet again borrowed, Atlin pushed through the door of the modest gym.

It had been places like this where she'd reunited with Artemis, where she'd met Ella...maybe she'd have some luck once more!

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro hits the ropes and sproings once more, snapping forward at a sprint. Her footfalls thump along the canvas of the ring, only broken when she turns to press her back against the ropes and start the process again. It repeats a couple more times before Katsumi jogs to a halt, bringing her hand to grip the rope. Her breathing is elevated, not yet working up a sweat, but taking a moment to catch herself all the same.

Lo and behold, a tanned blonde chick has entered the building. She doesn't seem to be doing anything worth poking fun at, and really, her mind is fixed on prepping for the show, so Atlin gets a merciful pass. After all, she seems pretty normal. All in all, she gets a lingering glance while Katsumi recomposes herself.

Atlin has posed:
A drop of her jacket, the tank top beneath was rather plain, but at least it wasn't quite as distressing or distracting as her one-piece amazon armor that some might take for a millitant swimsuit!

Aside from her tanned and toned form that was perfect in that frustrating way that all women of the Amazon people seemed to posses, she looked normal enough.

Her path came to a pause however as she watches Katsumi's recovery, her leaning against the rope earning a curious tilt of her head before she looks down at the ring itself and shakes her head.

Still strange, in their own way.

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Well, alright. The newcomer just earned a little more than a glance. The address is simple, short, and almost a bark: "What?"

Katsumi had suddenly felt judged. Maybe it's fair to call her defensive. In fact, it probably is. She's borne ridicule for her profession more times than a few, and if she weren't already short-fused, it certainly would've made her that way.

Atlin has posed:
One didn't have to have Amazon empathy, different as Atlin's was, to pick the vibe off that single questioning word, but the blonde just shakes her head again, accented tones speaking up and immediately making it clear she wasn't a local.

"It is strange. This ring...the ground as it is, the ropes. Do people truely expect it is the only place that they would find danger?"

A shrug of her shoulders, she reaches out to lazily tug at one of the ropes.

"It seems...almost false."

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
English is not Katsumi's native language. But she can tell this blonde chick Ain't From Around Here(tm). If not for the accent, the statement itself seems more appropriate an extraterrestrial. And it annoys her.

"The Hell kind'a question is /that/?," asks the foreigner. "It's a place where sports happen. Do they have sports on Planet Bottleblonde? Or does everyone just do bar brawls? Where are you from, Ireland?"

Atlin has posed:
"Sport?" Atlin repeats, a blink of her eyes before she raises an eyebrow at the barb that took her a second. "My hair does not come from a bottle. Such things are...impractical."

A gesture to the ring before she lifts herself upwards, stepping into the space and bouncing on the balls of her feet lightly to the spring of the floor.

"We have games, contest...but it is always for a purpose."

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
The heck does she think she's doing? She was working things in here! Katsumi's eyes narrow a little on her, oddly-hued as they are. But what she was about to say regarding her space being invaded by a tourist is abandoned the more Atlin talks. "Oh god," she sighs, easing back from her. "You're not one of those hyper-intense armchair bushido types, are you? 'Baseball is for honor!' and all that s***, right?"

Atlin has posed:
"Armchair bushido?" the amazon repeats, a blink and a genuine look of confusion crossing her face. Comprehension of all languages didn't mean she understood slang and turn of phrase. How in the world could an armchair be an effective enough weapon to base a martial art upon?

"Baseball is for entertainment, no? At least that is what I was told."

Another shrug, the blonde gestures with her hand towards Katsumi. "But, I am still learning much. If this is where you fight your battles, then I do not wish to stop you."

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
It's difficult to insult someone when they don't seem to understand they're being insulted. It takes some of the fun out of it. Not that Katsumi's having fun; she's been slighted! Or so she feels!

"You keep saying that word like you don't know what it means. 'Sport'. Is that a word in your language?," she asks. At this point, the question is less snark and a little more sincere.

Atlin has posed:
"It is...but it is different. I think." Helpful, but Atlin shrugs her shoulders. "Fighting, sparring with my sisters is a daily occurance in my home. Each of us must be capable and..." she pauses, a slight smile on her features. "It is fun too, no?"

Snark lowered or not, Atlin looks back to Katsumi's eyes. "It is why you do this too, no? For the 'sport' of it?"

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
"Fame. Fortune. Fun. The three F's," replies Katsumi, presently still eyeing the girl. "I'm still not convinced you really know what happens in a ring. Or what /I/ do in a ring." She approaches the other female, slender black eyebrow cocked at her. "Do you know what boxing is? Wrestling?"

Atlin has posed:
"Boxing? I have seen it since coming to this city. Those gloves are...yet more strangeness. But wrestling?"

It brings pause, but odds are that what Atlin is picturing in the Greek-influenced Theymiscran tradition or that of Bana-Mighdall is a little different. "Grappling...I am familier with that. That is what you do then? You are practicing to wrestle?"

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
"Running the ropes," says an unconvinced Katsumi. Something about how this other girl struggled with everything insofar doesn't fill her with confidence in her understanding. "You know. Referee, suplexes, submission holds, all that? On t.v.?"

This has completely derailed her training, but Katsumi is starting to look at her with the same level of fascination as a zoologist might be examining a new species.

Atlin has posed:
"Ropes..." Atlin shakes her head, crossing her arms and frowning. "No, that must be different. We so not allow weapons or restraints, only two fighters grappling to pin the other or make them surrender."

A shrug, she steps back. Perhaps she's talking of Russian wrestling, but she doesn't quite have the accent for that.

"Perhaps you'll have to demonstrate this for me."

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
"Restraints?," asks a perplexed Katsumi. She steps aside and seizes the rope in hand, giving it a tug. "/Ropes/, weirdo! These! We're not talkin' about lassos or anything!"

She glances in one direction, then the other. Her hands raise in a broad shrug. "Can't exactly demonstrate that by myself. And something tells me you don't carry a smartphone."

Atlin has posed:
"Ah, utilizing the ropes to maneuver?" That made a little more sense, but only a little. An amazon was taught to adapt after all, but still it was a strange place to do battle. As for the 'Smartphone'? Atlin gives a little 'oh' and pats her pocket before frowning. "I seem to have misplaced it, unfortunately."

As for the ability to demonstrate submission holds? The refusal earns a furrow of Atlin's brow and she steps forward. "If you are nervous I would understand, but I would be happy to demonstrate some of my own knowledge in exchange."

For someone with Empathy, either Atlin didn't get she was rubbing Katsumi the wrong way...or perhaps worse, she simply didn't quite care.

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
"Nervous? No, not hardly!," protests Katsumi. "I just don't wanna get in trouble for hurting a normie. Or making an international incident for hurting a.. whatever-nationality-you-are!"

"If you want a demonstration? And you promise not to freak out? I /guess/ I could give you a little something." She tilts her head slightly, examining Atlin a little more closely. But in her relatively conservative attire, not a lot can be gleaned. She has toned arms - that's about all she can surmise.

Atlin has posed:
"A 'Normie'?" Atlin repeats, clearly not familier with the term. Comment of an international incident earns a little snort and a shake of her head. "I am neither princess nor Shimtar. You will not face any political problems from injuring me...and it is not so easy to do so."

She moves now to the middle of the ring, easing her slightly messy blonde hair out of her eyes and then lightly tilting her head. "It is a contest of grappling, yes? Show me what you can do then."

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro exhales a puff of a sigh, feathering her bangs. "A lot of people say that. Then they get all aggro when they realize submission holds aren't gentle."

Approaching, Katsumi makes no aplomb about the arrangement. She reaches out to seize Atlin's left wrist to smoothly, even gracefully, elevate it and wind it over in an inwards twist to wrench the limb and force Atlin's body to double over in the wristlock. She isn't being particularly rough, however. Her intention here is si.ply to demonstrate the control she can exert with a mastery of body mechanics. The torque of the wrist, while sharp, wouldn't be excessive

Atlin has posed:
Atlin doesn't struggle as she feels the grasp and the twist of her wrist, a relatively simple movement but no less effective in most cases. The pressure is felt and Atlin moves...but she doesn't seem to be in pain.

"Ah, a wrist lock?" she speaks softly, almost nostalgicly with a close of her eyes. She remains there, unmoving from the position she's forced into for a moment before she looks back towards Katsumi with a tilt of her head. "This is a 'starting' technique?"

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
There's a shrug of Katsumi's shoulders, aloof. "Can be. I'm starting it easy on ya." Nevermind that she's a little annoyed that it seems as if it might even be boring to Atlin. Just what is this chick's deal?

Without releasing the lock, Katsumi bends Atlin's elbow to wind her forearm in tight against her back. It's a clean, smooth transition into a hammerlock. "Know this one?," she asks.

Atlin has posed:
A nod, again Atlin allows the movement to complete until it's wound against her back, the lift of the wrist pinning the shoulder rather uncomfortably. "I know it," she speaks, accented tones hinting at her enjoyment of techniques that she'd been taught in her early years. They were no less effective after all, but the Amazon does glance back over her shoulder. "Of course, we were trained with an extra step involved, though it would not fit your sport so well."

The pressure Katsumi had been applying was effective, yet Atlin simply bent forwards and stepped outwards, extending her arm until she could turn around. It would be a movement that should normally be difficult, if not impossible if Katsumi moved with her...but the Japanese wrestling starlet was probably a little caught off-guard by the strength she could put behind resisting until she was facing the other woman.

"You use these only for sport, no?"

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Though the display of strength is noticed, Katsumi isn't trying to really restrain her. It's that desire to avoid hurting her that keeps her from pursuing the hold, mixed with some curiosity in whether or not she knew how to unwind herself from the position. Which, as it turns out, she does.

"Depends," Katsumi replies as she releases the wrist. "If I'm in a fight outside the ring? I'll use everything I need to to put a b**** down." The casual profanity just rolls right off the tongue. "And a hammerlock would be the least of their worries."

A fist props to her hip, eyebrow raising at her. "What's your deal?"

Atlin has posed:
"My 'deal'?" Atlin repeats, tilting her head. "I am here to learn and to practice. Learning is easier, if only about this city, its people and their ways. Practice? How did you put it? It is not something I can easily do by myself." A shrug of her shoulders again, the blonde lifts her hands in front of her almost as if she were about to form a 'guard' before she lets them fall with a smile. "My sisters and I, each of us, are trained as warriors from the moment we can stand. It is the way of our home."

Either Atlin had a truely messed up home life, or she really was from somewhere a little stranger.

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
"Learn and practice," repeats Katsumi. She regards the brief stance Atlin assumes, those bright oddly-colored eyes zeroing in.

Said eyes zip back up to Atlin's face. "You wanna wrestle? Is that it?," she asks, a grin starting to edge the corners of her lips. "And you wanna play rough? Alright..." Without waiting a moment more, the spry punkette springs forward, her hands lashing for Atlin's neck and shoulder to immediately attempt to overpower her in a rush. The intention is to bully the blonde back against the ropes and trap her there, leaning in. How it actually works out may differ greatly, superhuman attributes and all!

Atlin has posed:
Atlin moves backward, she truely does...but it's only about a step or two before she plants her feet and her own arms come up. The problem with that position was that it was 'mirrorable', at least to someone who could move with an Amazon's precision and ability. Twisting her hips and stepping to carry the momentum, there's a definate attempt to reverse the position entirely and end up with Atlin trapping Katsumi against the rope herself. "This is rough?" she questions, but the smirk on her lips suggests this was baiting rather than ignorance now. "Do not underestimate me simply because you find me strange..."

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro has wrestled with girls of varying strength levels. She, herself, isn't a powerhouse type. She's willowy, slender, but trim - the build of an adroit grappler or striker. But she's tangled with powerhouse girls before. They don't usually look like Atlin. They usually look like... well, Aja Kong. Big. Beefy. Tanky. So when the move is abruptly reversed, it comes with a gasp from the punkette. She finds her back pressed into the ropes, staring at Atlin and her smirk.

"Oh, you're weird as Hell...," Katsumi murmurs. "..but the free rides ends now!" She attempts to wedge a leg up between their torsos to plant her foot against Atlin and kickshove her away to disengage.