A Night Out (for Acuya)

She supposed that most didn’t have that high number of siblings from his reaction but she supposed it garnered more to the fact it was eight boys and one girl. The odds weren’t in her favor back then but she could whip them all in like now, karma had a way of giving payback to those who were patient.

”You heard me. Eight. Uno, dos, tres, quatro, cinco, seis, seite, ocho. she counted on her fingers as a joke to make sure he was aware of her statement. She smiled but his concern wasn’t necessary especially now but still she nods at their comment ” It was but you find a way and by that I mean I broke my hermanos arm while we were fighting.”

Camilia raises her fourth shot, okay maybe it was time to take another break after this one, if it all hit her at once she’d be a goner. ”Congrats on sticking it out with a sister that can literally kick your butt sideways, us younger ones had it so rough.” She’d chuckle softly at that, the thought was so true.

The Latina nods, a lot had happened since she had started and she was sure even more would if she stayed. ”It’s been anything but predictable. The competition literally blows my mind with all the talent here in Friction and Tension, I mean...I’m literally speechless that so many people from around the world are here to fight and compete. I honestly love it here, all the challenges I’ll face, all the ones I’ll get to in the future..” it brought her satisfaction, those thoughts. She glances his way with his ask of where she was trained or more possibly specifically by whom.

There wasn’t any reason to lie when she already said, or at least her file did, that she was from México.she turned her body cock-eyed to look, position herself, and answer in that order ”I was trained back home by my Abuelo’s recommendation. It wasn’t easy but I managed to pull it off..somehow.” She’d reply.

”What about you? Did your dad teach you?” They’d ask, taking down shot number four.

The more he talked with Camilia, the easier Army found it to believe that she’d had eight brothers to deal with growing up. She definitely had that vibe about her, the aura of a woman who’d had to put up with more than her fair share of male bullshit in her life and wasn’t about to take an ounce more from anyone. Respectable, understandable, admirable.

”Wow, broken arms, sounds about right. Got more than a couple black eyes from my sister, and they didn’t all get there from the sparring.” He rubbed his cheek, still feeling a soft, tender spot from where Carmen belt him about a decade ago. Couldn’t even remember the reason why of the top of his head, but he did recall that he had it coming.

He raised his glass and accepted her toast. ”To tough love.”

Army took a long time downing this one, letting it trickle down, really wanting to savor the burn as it traversed the path to his gullet. ”I’d say I’ve got a semi-similar story to yours, some of the same big points. Was born into fighting, bred for it. Dad fought, his Dad fought, his Dad fought. Strong boxers, all of them. A lot of legacy to live up to.”He sighed, remembering all the times and ways he hadn’t lived up to that legacy, the way it could wear him down sometimes. He was happy being a boxer, loved it, but there were days he wished he at least had the choice to try a different path.

”But yeah, my Dad trained me. Him and my uncle, pretty much since I was old enough to walk. Waking up, hitting the gym, running around the neighborhood, sparring, sweating, day and day out.” He shrugged, sifting through the memories. So many of them, so similar, it was easy to turn the days into a blur. ”That was my life, pretty much as far back as I can remember.”

Camilia definitely could see the strain of another sibiling in him, both were subjugated to the beatings of them but she came out on top, him? They couldn’t really tell. She was her shot glass away for a moment, this time she’d seriously let herself settle before going for another.

The Latina took note of his somewhat searching stance for his memories, perhaps there were too many bands ones? Maybe those in the middle? Who knew? Hearing talk about being bred into fighting felt off to her, wanting to compete was a choice, or at least for her it was.

She pondered that for a moment, thinking back on his talk of being in several generations of boxer’s, the pressure was definitely there of carrying that legacy. ”I bet that can be rough, having that kind of pressure in your shoulders all the time huh? You want to make your familia proud but the thought of failing that legacy just looks over you, huh?”

Now onto the next topic of his training, it baffles her that he was trained so young, didn’t he get a say? A choice? From the way he spoke it seemed it wasn’t the happiest time of his life, thisbkeft a sour taste in her mouth or maybe that was the rum. ”Do you hate them for making that choice for you? I’m sure if you could you’d rather do something more than this but you’re already so far in, does it bother you that your path was forced on you like this?” Great, now she was playing therapist.

”Hate?”

Army perked up at the word, not really seeing it oming. He’d been lost in his thought for the past few moments, really weighing what Camilia was saying, and giving this conversation far more time than he’d initially expected.

He took a moment - an uncomfortably long moment, if he was being honest - to answer her, and he spent that moment swing the glass about in his hand, sloshing around what little liquid was left in it.

”I’d say no, not really. I mean, I guess I could’ve been a lot of things if the dice had been rolled different, but there’s no point in complaining about that now, right? I am what I am what I am. I’m a fighter. I’m good at it.” He brought up the glass and sipped up what little was left, savoring the priceless taste of the last few drops. ”Do I wonder sometimes? Yeah. No shit. But that’s all it is, wondering. Not point in dwelling on it too much, right?”

Maybe hate was too harsh a word to use, dislike probably would’ve been a bit better possibly even more appropriate but it was already out and she’d deal with his next set of words cautiously. He was taking his time to answer, maybe it was a bit more thought provoking than she realized but this was also a chance to really get to know him too.

When he did speak she felt like he had dug deep to find what he wanted to say, it was possible and to be honest, from their match alone, she knew he was good, that wasn’t in question. ”When you put it like that, everyone of us at AFW could be something different. I wouldn’t be here, drinking with you if the dice were cast pulling me in a different direction.”

Now it was her turn to think, there was no sense in wondering about the past but, she often times felt herself diving back into the sea of “what if’s?” Often letting those thoughts overwhelm her and thinking ardently over what she could’ve been if she didn’t choose this life.

Her gaze shifts back to the bar, her mind and possibly the alcohol mixing together to form her answer. ”I guess you’re right...but I do let those questions consume me. I try not to but every time I sit and think back on it and wonder, I just lose myself and it’s there just making me wonder if I choose the right path to take in my life. I feel like I’m good at what I do but..I don’t know, I just don’t.”

Army could safely say that this was definitely getting a lot deeper than he’d imagined it would when she called him out for a drink, that was for sure. More of a weighty conversation than he’d bargained for, and he wasn’t completely sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

”Exactly. You could be so many places in the universe, but you’re here. Not a good thing or a bad thing. Just a thing.” He shrugged it off. The best way to deal with troubles, in his vast experience. ”You’ve got to make the most your of your situation.”

He spun about to face her in the chair, looking at her head on. ”Like, okay, how old are you, 20 something? 21? You’re still got a lot of life ahead of you, lots of things you can do. So there’s no rush - it’s not like you’ve locked your life away. If you’re not feeling this wrestling thing, you can always switch paths. Train’s barely left the station.”

He stood up and started to stretch, hissing as a few pains from the last night made themselves known again. He needed to have a long session with a good masseuse, and maybe a few painkillers to take the edge off. ”Look, my advice? Stay for a year. See how the place fits. If it’s not your thing, then…”

She definitely didn’t think she’d see Army as a confidante, his advice was actually sound. She supposed her worries came from being in a new place, again, starting from scratch, again, and probably the slightsting of her first loss to the Latino. It was to be expected though, no one could win forever and that was something she had to accept, besides she’d get him back for it...eventually.

She’d listen intently to what he had to say but he was wrong on one account, her age. Maybe she was going through her midlife crisis early on, that could very well be the case for an enraged and quirky girl like herself. Camilia was seriously thinking on what she should do but it couldn’t hurt to take his advice give herself a year to really see how things go.

”I’ll definitely take your advice, guess it couldn’t hurt to stick around, at least until I wipe the floor with you.” She chuckles softly, the rum definitely settling into her system but she was here to have fun so why not let loose, get drunk?

Go big or go home as they always say, she gave herself another shot was she in number five or six? The Latina honestly couldn’t remeber for the life of her ”Twenty-seven...I’m twenty-seven.” she adds, her gaze shifting to watch him stretch, the slight hiss piercing through the music. Maybe she did bruise him up pretty good, although he didn’t look like it but then again neither did she.

After contemplating taking this next shot she decided against it in terms of awaiting Armando’s next move. Secretly she wanted him to stay, enjoying his company since she couldn’t recall the last time she actually hung out or partied with anyone. It was a welcome change of pace for her and one she’d like to keep.

”So, how long have you been here? A year? Maybe two? You definitely give off a veteran like vibe but you seem like a rookie too. I’m kind of just going off my gut here so I guess I shouldn’t assume everything but I’m just curious I guess.” the mindless banter of a buzzed drunkard began to settle in for the night from a composed and clam Latina, only good things could come from this..or maybe not.

‘Never ask a lady her age.’

For some reason, the words of Army’s mother rang into his ear, though it was a little late to keep that particular bomb from dropping. Normally he wouldn’t have asked, stayed true to that advice, but it was just hard to look at Camilia as a ‘lady’. She looked good, there was no getting around that, possessing a fine figure and a great body all over. The kind that could’ve dropped jaws in the right outfit.

But, for whatever reason, he couldn’t help but look at her as a guy. Which was a good thing, in a way. Made him feel comfortable. More comfortable. The booze might’ve had something to do with it, too. He just smirked at her earlier comment, though he didn’t have the idea of doing another match with her. Maybe something that didn’t happen in the street this time, though. A little on the lighter side.

”A ‘veteran’ vibe?” That got more of a full laugh out of him. ”I’ll take that as a compliment, sure. Let’s see…” He started to tick his fingers out, running the time off in his head. Life in the AFW was strange, it was hard to keep track of, sometimes.

”Four years.” He gave the answer like he was surprised to hear it coming from his own mouth. Had it really been that long? Felt so much shorter. ”Give or take, but yeah. Four years. Not that it counts for a whole lot, really, but yeah, I guess the ‘veteran’ label isn’t too far off.” He shrugged. ”Don’t have any intentions of leaving, either. This is a pretty solid life to live.”

At this point she was a bit off, under normal circumstances she may have taken a stronger stance on a man asking her, her age but she was in a good mood, the run saw to that. Still she felt an odd sense of comfortability from him, maybe the run was working wonders on him or perhaps they were bonding over something trivial at this point she can’t put her finger in why it is, or really all there to try.

Four years, four years didn’t seem like a long time but in their line of work where violence was around every corner just about every week, it could be a very long while. Back in her dirtier days where blood ran free, broken bodies were a normal occurrence it felt like decades would go by as you waited for your turn to crack some skull or shed blood across the mat. Her index finger ran across the scar over the bridge of her nose, reminding of when it was her turn to shed blood.

”I don’t think I could ever leave. I know it’s an option but c’mon, I can’t do anything else.” the thought made her laugh, the kind of laugh that seemed like a joke but the more you laughed the more you knew how depressing it was you had no other skills than fighting, maybe cooking but you didn’t do that for anyone but yourself. So okay, two things but not much else.

It took a moment for her laugh to die down, she wasn’t a crier so pity wouldn’t hold much ground for her, besides Army and her were here to have fun and to talk.

This was taking on an odd, slightly depressing tone that Army hadn’t quite anticipated. When he’d come here, he’d just expected some fun talk and drinks with a woman that he respected and kind of liked. Instead, things were getting more philosophical, and he wasn’t sure he was in the right depth for it.

Still. He was here. Might as well jump into the deep end.

He watched her trail her finger over the scar on her nose - a nasty one, from the looks of it. Probably got it from one hell of a punch, and he was half-tempted to inquire, but felt it wasn’t his business to pry. This was already taking more of a personal turn than he’d bargained for.

”Do you want to do anything else?” He shrugged. ”The way I see it, people like you and me? We’re weapons. We’re built to do what we do, and we like doing it, and we’re good at it. No shame there, right? Enjoy it.”