El Toro y El Atleta, A battle of stamina! Camilia vs. Milana

Camilla rolled her shoulders, she was getting the hang of the schedule here. Still, it was better than waiting so long for matches. The katina looked over herself in the mirror, tugging lightly in her biker jacket, tapping her boots to make sure they were snug as a rug. For some reason she felt like this was going to be a long and grueling night. Closing her locker door, she’d head out of the locker room and down the hallway to await her call.

She didn’t know her opponent but tht sort of became customary when compared to the other leagues she had been involved with. There always seemed to be more than she realized when she didn’t meet the same person twice, unless outisde the ring. It gave her a bit of perspective as to how far she would have to reach for her goal. Like her pádre said “Life is never satsifying going the short way.”

With her theme suddenly blaring over the speakers, Camillia would dash through the curtains and down the ramp, her sights set on victory. Climbing up those steel steps, the roar of the crowd began to remind her of what she loved to do. Any doubts that had crept over her from her drunken stupor with Armando seemed to just drift away.

She’d turn back to the ramp. A smile etched from one ear to the other faces it, an opponent worth her time was coming, she could feel it. All she had to do was sharpen her horns and wait. “C’mon, chica. A bull can’t dance by herself.” she says, bouncing in place on the balls of her feet, raring to go.

Milana had had some interesting fights indeed since coming to Japan, both inside the ring and outside of it. She had met some very...well, interesting people, and had gotten reacquainted with one particularly notable person in her life. This was a strange world to be a part of, but, after a few months and a lot of training, she had ultimately decided that she didn't regret making the move from the track to the wrestling ring.

Her entrance was not as high-energy as her opponent's. Milana entered, the lights shone down on her, and she raised a hand, giving a thin, closed-mouth smile as she hustled down to the ring. She wasn't a big personality, and she wasn't really someone who worked the crowd. Her reserved personality worked to her benefit when it came to focus in the ring, which she knew she would need in a match like this, when winning was a long, arduous process which would require everything a wrestler had.

She strode purposefully up the metal steps and ducked between the top and middle ropes, swiveling into the ring. She wore her usual red-and-white athletic gear, with a pair of white boots to complete the ensemble. As she got into the ring, she would move to her corner, eyes drifting to her opponent as she stretched her arms over her head, nodding to the girl in the very intricate attire as she got herself ready for this battle.

Camilia was honestly a bit surprised, they didn’t show any sort of charm to the crowd to get them riled up. It felt obligatory to woo the crowd on your side, it was kinda like a war drum in the sense. Maybe that was just their way of doing things but for the Latina, she was definitely thrown for a loop. The bidding gesture was a shock too. What were they nodding at? Her clothes? Just her? Did she have something in her teeth?

Stepping forward toward the center, she got a fairly good look at her opponent. Nice build. Abdominal’s were clearly sculpted, well built thigh too, must’ve been a runner she could guess. Impress at the very least with their stature, Camilia could tell they would give her a challenge. She kinda liked that in a person, especially when trying to make some friends.

“Name’s Camilia, they call me El Toro Blanca. Nice to meetcha.” She figured it’d probably be best for her to break the silence, try and get the other to at least acknowledge her beyond a nod. “What’s your name? It’d be stupid to call you: la chica or roja, yeah?”

Milana treated wrestling the same way that she treated running in a track meet: do whatever you needed to do to get ready, get out there, give the crowd acknowledgement and thanks, but not let an attempt to pander to them disrupt your routine. She was a private person, not much of a performer—a bit of a rarity in this setting, admittedly. But it seemed to really shake her opponent up, who gave her a weird look as Milana nodded at her.

The British girl had only been trying to acknowledge her opponent, of course. Extroverts tended to assume that introverts like Milana were being bitchy if they entered the ring without any acknowledgement of the girl standing across from them. Tonight, it seemed as though the gesture might have done more to confuse matters.

The girl called out to her across the ring, though, and Milana would smirk and chuckle at her opponent's joke as she finished stretching herself out and took a step forward so they didn't have to yell too loudly to hear each other over the crowd noise. "Milana. It's a pleasure to meet you, too," she replied. She paused, thinking about whether she should leave it at that or carry on this conversation.

"Have you had a match quite like this before?"

Well, well. They actually speak. Camilia places her hands at her hips, giving the girl a friendly smile, guessing from their accent, British, definitely British.

Milana, huh? Not a bad name for a tough lookin’ gal. Gotta say you’re looking muy bien construido.” She’d offer they compliment with a bit of lean. The Latina was trying to come off as more friendly. Her last couple matches definitely didn’t reflect that, recalling her brutal match with Armando not to mention her temper with Zoey...yikes.

The question came out of left field, her finger went through her white main, thinking back on if she could remember a match like this. “No, can’t say I have.” She admits. Camilia notices the determined flint in their eye. From what she could see, the athlete in them was daring to go and determined. A look she conveyed herself.

The Spanish-speaking girl seemed chipper, and that allowed Milana to take a deep breath and let some of the anxious tension in her muscles fall away. She had actually been quite lucky—all of the opponents she had come up against in the ring had been gracious, and she knew that was not a common experience for new wrestlers on the AFW scene. It went a long way towards making an introvert like Milana feel like she belonged here. Sure, her next-door neighbor was nothing but trouble, but that she could deal with if she felt fulfilled in her athletic endeavors. Which she did!

She smiled and shrugged when the girl complimented her. Milana didn't know much Spanish, but she got the gist of what was being said. "Thank you. I do what I can," she said. Camilia replied to her question about having been in a match like this before in the negative, and Milana, for her part, was in the same boat. She was more used to submissions, and a ten-count pin was such a ridiculously extravagant stipulation. A girl could be fully knocked out and still beat a count of then.

"Me neither," Milana added. She looked from the determined Camilia to the referee girl, who seemed to be in position, ready to get this match started. Milana would pull in a breath, hold it, then sigh, stepping in toward the center of the ring. "Shall we begin...?"

Her hands left her hips as she met the woman head on in the center. She lightly bounces in place to get her head in the game, checking her opponents physique once more. Getting caught could be more trouble than she realized with how toned they were. She’d have to be careful and mindful.

With the referee intervening between them, the Latina couldn’t help but grin. Milana seemed invested in what was to be a seriously pain staking match. The platinum blonde would nod in agree with them. “ ¡Oh, sí, vamos a hacerlo!” she exclaims. The dribble from the ref fell on deaf ears at this point. Camilia focused her full attention on Milana, the British athlete, the only sound that could catch her attention was that of the bell about to ring.

DING! DING! DING!

Camilia immediately stepped back, just a hair out of caution. She definitely had to measure them up first, see what she was working with and how much she’d really have to throw at them to keep them down. The white bull slowly paces around the ring. Her hands were up, hesitant to make the first move.

Milana didn't pick up everything that Camilia said there, but based on the tone it sounded like she was still happy, and was agreeing to get things started. The referee seemed amenable to it, as well, listing off the rules for the two combatants, though they were simple enough that Milana didn't need to listen too closely. Everything was pretty standard beyond the ten-count pin requirement. Her eyes were down on the canvas as she shook out her legs, then her arms. She tilted her head up to the ceiling, and then finally brought them back to her opponent, making eye contact for a few seconds before the bell rang.

Once it rang, Camilia moved back, and Milana moved to the side, beginning to circle around her foe. If Camilia wanted to keep her distance, that was fine. Milana was not the sort of girl who was going to get ahead of herself, leaping into battle and getting caught by a cautious opponent. She would circle slowly, waiting to see how Camilia moved. If she kept moving back, Milana would keep slowly moving around her. Creeping closer and closer, her own eyes examining her opponent, looking for openings.

And her hands would rise up, palms out, fingers spread, offering Camilia the chance for a test of strength!

Camilia followed Milana’s movements, circling the ring as if the pair were preparing for a dance. Her arms were up and her body somewhat low. She was expecting a surprise attack but instead, the athlete offered a test of strength. It wasn’t surprising. It was an understanding tactic for opponents unfamiliar with each other.

The Latina grinned. She’d slowly start to close the distance, unaware of any true intentions beyond a test, she couldn’t exactly refuse. First her right hand. Her finger clasped into place between the Brits own fingers. Her left hand would follow suit, she’d press her palms tightly against them, holding out before applying pressure. She’d space out her feet for a slight edge in their contest.

Without a word, Camilia would begin to flex, pushing her strength against Milana in their battle for early dominance. She’d press her body for leverage, attempting to have a go at the tug of war that was about to ensue. The Latina would try to use her one inch advantage over the athlete, hoping to drive her back before they really got started.

Milana was never the sort of girl to go with a high-energy, poorly-planned, all-out initial assault, so already she felt as if she had something of an upper hand, with Camilia obviously having prepared for just such an attack. Milana offered a test of strength, aiming to gauge just how strong her opponent is, and what else she might have up her sleeve for this match. Keeping her eyes open, watchful for any sudden shifts in Camilia's center of balance, Milana let Camilia's right hand find her left, then the girl's left hand find her right. Interlocking their fingers happened quickly, and Milana moved her legs out, widening her stance, as Camilia, also wanting that edge, did the same.

Milana shoved hard against Camilia right from the start, ramping up rather quickly to something around ninety percent of her full power. She held a little bit in reserve, just to test and see what Camilia could do, whether she needed to exert herself to the fullest to win this test of strength. Camilia tried to bear down on her, leaning in, Milana grunting as her head tilted back and she was forced to take a couple of steps. But she wasn't planning on losing this test, and she would shove forward hard, moving her hands in slightly, pulling Camilia's along, too, to allow her to put all her weight behind a push intended to force Camilia back to where they had started, and then some!