Familiar Faces (for kerflubble)

In and out. She'd get some stuff out of her locker at the Tension arena, schedule a match in three or so weeks, then go home and sleep like the dead.

Carmen was just fresh out of the hospital from her fight with Lorenza Saldano - in fact, she was only stopping by Tension on her way home. It had been so long since she had a real boxing match, she'd almost forgotten how much of a toll they could take on your body. Wrestling matches could be tough, but she really only needed two or three days before she was good to go after one of them. Even the fight with Clyde, murder on her back that it was, only took her just shy of five days before she felt good enough to step back into the ring.

This, though? She would be carrying these battle scars for a while. The most obvious was the eyepatch she was wearing over her left eye, under doctor's orders, making her rock the pirate look. It had gotten a bit of blood in it, on top of the pounding it took from Lorenza's trademark right hook. It would be fine in a week or so, but it needed time to sooth over, and while it was doing that she had to keep it out of the light. The patch matched the numerous bruises on her face, at least, and she could take it off to frighten small children with her bloody eye. Neat little trick.

The caste on her hand would be a problem, though - her right wrist was shot to hell, and a few ligaments were torn up. Again, nothing that couldn't heal, but it made holding anything a pain, and writing was nearly impossible. The simple task of getting her stuff out of a locker was going to be a royal pain in the ass, and this was a light day - there didn't seem to be anyone around to give her a hand.

She walked through the Tension halls towards the locker room, not exactly dressed to impress - a grey wifebeater, jeans, sandals. All in all, Carmen looked like she had just gotten mugged, and she felt a bit like it, too. The swelling in her face was going down, but that was the only saving grace at the moment.

It was a rare thing for Rebecca Tomko to be walking through the hallways of the Tension facility, taking a quick glance at any monitors she could find. She'd taken the journey to Kyoto for two reasons. One: she needed a more peaceful scenery. After the whole shenanigans at the Sumo Hall, she felt like she was becoming a bit of a persona non grata in Tokyo, it was just fortunate that she was big and strong enough that fear took over from contempt or she'd never get around the place.

Two: she was hear to check out the competition. The last time she was here most of the women around were either victims waiting to be thrown to one of the various beasts that lurked around or sadists looking for a boytoy to kidnap, it had gotten slightly better by the looks of things though, there were more competitive matches around, even Clyde was seemingly getting his act together and getting a decent run outside of the hentai division which he got stuck in for some reason, heck she could even swing by and see how he was doing.

Stopping halfway in the hall she looked up and realized something. She had no idea where everyone was! The place seemed deserted, except for someone who looked like she'd been in a car crash. "Hey!" She called out, "Seen anyone else around here?"

All the sudden, Carmen learned how well her throbbing head took loud noises. The answer? Not very well.

She had been getting a drink from the water fountain when a booming voice came down the corridor. Whoever it was probably didn't mean to cause her any pain, but that's exactly what happened. Just the vibrations felt like lightning flash through her brain. She shot up, water still dripping from her mouth as her face scrunched up and she put her hands around her ears. It took a moment, but the pain subsided and she relaxed, shoulder sagging as she turned around.

"No, no." She stuck a pinkie in her ear and drilled it a bit. "Haven't seen anyone but the janitor. Or a wrestler with a janitor theme. Could've been either, really."

She looked down the hall, trying to place who this woman was. She seemed a little familiar, somehow. She was black, for one thing, which was pretty notable just by itself, since African-Americans were pretty rare on both the Tension and Friction rosters, as far as she knew. "Looking for someone?"

Correction, the woman in front of her didn't look like she'd been in a car crash, she looked more like she'd been dropped head first into a warzone. "Geez, what happened to you?" the amazon asked, keeping her volume down when she vinced at the noise. "No offense. I'm just checking the place out, got a bit lost: that's all."

"None ta-"

With the one eye, Carmen's depth perception was all messed up, it took her a moment to really register just how amazingly tall this woman was. Carmen herself was a tall girl, sure, just an inch shy of six feet. It was one of the main reasons she'd done so well as an out-fighter, always skating on the edge of her weight class, great range and speed together made a winning combination. But with this woman, she felt something she had never felt before, in all her life: short.

And she felt something else, too...deja vu.

It took her a moment to realize she was staring and snap out of it, rubbing her eye. "None taken. Got hit by a bus named Lorenza Saldano, long story." She stepped back, giving the woman some room and looking her over in full. "Wow." She shook her head. "Sorry, you're just...very impressive, gotta say. Don't take that the wrong way."

Carmen sincerely hoped she didn't, too. Carmen wasn't one to back down from a fight, but against someone like this she'd strongly consider it. Even at her best, this woman would be one hell of a challenge, that much was obvious.

"Heh." Rebecca chuckled, it was always nice to get that moment where it dawned on people just how big she was in person. "Thanks, name's Rebecca by the way. Rebecca Tomko." She introduced herself, offering a hand to shake before realizing that Carmen might not be in the best of shapes to shake hands, or do anything physical.

Carmen turned her left hand upside down to give Rebecca the best shake she could, thankful the giant took it all in stride. From what she'd seen, some women in the AFW had hair-thin triggers, and the last thing Carmen needed was an enemy like this.

Her shake lost some of its power, though, as she thought back. Way back, when she was just a little brat following her Dad around for his matches, during the last years of his professional career. It was one the earliest memories she could recall well. He was up against a pretty tough guy, and it stuck with her because the match had drawn in a lot of attention, and because she met the guy's kid before the fight, and they'd gotten into a little tiff.

...Tomko. Rebecca Tomko.

For a second, Carmen thought both her eyes were messed up. It had been ages, sure, but with about three more feet, a hell of a lot of a muscle and a dye job, it was that same girl. "Good God...Rebecca?" She stood on her tip-toes, getting the best look she could manage. "It can't be, I'm tripping. You're the Sandman's kid."

Rebecca blinked twice when Carmen mentioned the name "Sandman." It was her fathers nickname in the boxing circuits. Called 'Mr Sandman' because his terrifying punching power often knocked people out really quickly, sending them to sleep so to speak. "How'd you know my dad?" She asked, mostly confused. Her dad had been retired for over ten years now, the Amazon wasn't into double digits for age before his last match. "What's your name?"

"Your Dad was a badass, I remember. Not as badass as my old man, but close. Close." She dropped back down and strutted to Rebecca's side, giving her playful punch on the shoulder. "But you don't remember me? That hurts, I thought I left an impression."

She stepped away and put her hand to her chest. "Think back. Little girl, about yea high. Ratty black hair, Lambchop's Play Along t-shirt, flower skirt, maybe threatened to punch you in the face a few times...anything?"

Her old man? Was she a daughter of one of the boxers who'd fought against her father? The amazon was trying to put it all together in her head, trying to think of a name as the Puerto Rican striker gave her a soft punch on the arm. Trying to think back, she kind of remembered getting into an argument when she was a really little kid in a boxing arena, where she was there to cheer on her dad as much as she could before her mom pulled her away, claiming it was 'Too Violent'. Now what was the name... who was Mr Sandman facing? "...R-Rodriguez?" She recalled, pulling a name that she thought fit before everything else started falling into place. "Carmen Rodriguez? Holy shit! Talk about a blast from the past, you look- well, you look like shit right now but still, wow. Small world."