Bloody Lethwei?!

When Nicky Gunnery came to Momentum, her contract very clearly stated she was joining a boxing promotion to box other boxers in BOXING matches. In 10 oz BOXING gloves. In a BOXING ring. With a pre-determined number of rounds taking reference from the international unified BOXING rules. With victory determined by either a judge-mandated decision or a finish. BOXING judges, she might add. There was no ambiguity there. She was here to box and so she did for a few good months. Boxing was had. Boxing was conducted. Boxers boxed. Good ol' fashion boxing soaked these Asian halls.

But in the words of Darth Vader from that old movie where every bad person was either a brit (Not very culturally sensitive) or an evil slug (not very sensitive to Italians either): "I have altered the bargain. Pray I do not alter it any further."

And so overnight, Momentum opened up to martial arts beyond boxing. Muay Thai, Kickboxing, too many things with Gis and weird belts. She swore she caught a glimpse of a kendo match where one of the competitors legitimately tried to behead the other. Very 18th century. It was a whole new sodding world she had found herself in, and Nicky wasn't completely sure how she was supposed to take it. Betrayed? A bit. Curious? Definitely. Excited? Quite, quite. Lots of emotions and even more questions. Chief of all how the frickin progression up the rankings worked now.

Oh, you know what else opened up?

A class-action lawsuit.

A bunch of boxers weren't exactly thrilled with how the shift in Momentum went down. No forewarning and a dozen breaches in contract clauses soured the mood quite a bit for anyone. Nicky had been asked to lend her voice to it by an old frenemy called Elena, another boxer who had joined Momentum around the same time. She should. She really should have but...

Try it before you knock it, right?

So here she was in, walking down a ramp to a ring that looked a little too long. The dimensions were off. She wore her usual black sports bra and red-blue shorts - and nothing else. No Gloves. No boxing boots. No nothing. Just bandages over her hands and... nothing. She felt naked. She felt very naked, as if she was walking into a fight with nothing on.

What the frick was Lethwei? She read the rulebook and it still felt like street fighting with extra steps. Unneeded steps.

Okay, fine, whatever. She consented to this. The lawsuit was still an option if she was done with this. She walked to the ring, didn't even bother lifting her fist up. Her hand felt bare; empty. No weight to it. She went up the ropes and found herself grasping onto them for the first time in her professional career, free of the gloves. She hated it. It felt wrong. This whole thing felt wrong. The floor was cold. The cushioned canvas of the ring felt cold too as she walked to the corner.

Who the frick fought like this? Yeesh.

An excited gleam spread out on Carina's face as she finished wrapping the last of the bandages around her ankle, flexing her toes to make sure the rest of her foot was properly supported. She had already given her hands a similar treatment, making sure to add a few extra layers around the knuckles while leaving the tips of her fingers completely void of protection.

Thus was the way of lethwei, the sport she had grown too live and breathe. Brutal beyond measured, but filled to the brim with tradition, technique, and honor. And here she was, thousands of miles from home, ready to showcase the sport in the new and reformed Momentum circuit.

From what she had heard, not everyone was as thrilled with the changes as she was. Sure, the shift had brought in a tidal wave of martial artists and diverse fighters from around the world, herself included, but it had also upset the boxing establishment that had previously called Momentum their home. From what she had gathered, tonight's opponent fell squarely in the latter camp. She let out a small sigh, worried that her opponent's limited fighting style wouldn't provide the thrill or aptitude to keep up with the brutality they were about to throw themselves into, but she quickly dispelled those thoughts.

After all, she had to commend her opponent for giving it a shot at least. A boxer vs a lethwei fighter? On paper a fight like this wouldn't be a competition at all! More like a one sided beatdown filled with bloody kicks, knees, elbows and headbutts galore. Either her opponent was desperate and trying to stay afloat in a league no longer reserved for the likes of her, or this brave boxer had a serious ace up her sleeve. Either way, the sound of the entrance music playing outside signaled her turn to enter the arena and find out for herself.

Carina Álvarez:

Carina descended down the ramp with a confident smile, the orange skirt affixed to her belt flowing behind her in lieu of traditional entrance robes. Her entrance thankfully not crowded with the usual theatrics that accompanied the other promotions in the league. Instead, the arena was filled with the eager murmurs and solemn gaze of an audience excited to see such a brutal sport make it's debut in the Momentum ring. She ran her hands across the top of the ropes, appreciating the familiarly of the rough texture along her bare fingertips. She greeted her cornerman with a brief nod as he unbuckled her belt and skirt, leaving her with her wraps, top, and shorts, all styled in traditional Amazonian fashion. With a lift of the ropes by her cornerman, she was granted entrance into the ring.

She approached the center of the ring, fighting hard to suppress a bubbly smile underneath her stoic expression. She slowly raised her right leg up and over, rhythmically patting her left shoulder as she began the lethwei yay, or warrior dance. She repeated the move once more with a loud shout, this time using the opposite leg and and shoulder all while making sure to eye her opponent who stood uncomfortably across the ring. She concluded the dance as the two met center-ring, allowed a small smile to slip through as she noticed her opponent's bewilderment.

"First time huh? I probably should go easy on ya but... no promises" Carina said with a wink, her smile morphing into something a little more friendly as the referee prepared to start the opening fight procedures.

What on god's green earth was she doing?

Nicky took the initial flamboyant entrance in stride. She wasn't going to pretend she understood any of what was happening but she shrugged it off as a cultural fixture of... something? This was odd. The whole damn foray into this sport was odd. But sure, whatever. She was trying to be open-minded about it. Her opponent came out to more colored flair than she was comfortable with, removed her excess trappings, all while Nicky stared at her. Then, Nicky pushed off to-

Her eyes widened and her head jerked back in undisguised confusion as her opponent stomped her foot, patted her leg, and barked like a dog. She instinctively raised her gloves up to cover her ears. What was this? What kind of oriental-

Right, can't use that word anymore, Nicky. It's the 21st century.

-foreign fixture was this? Or was the girl just to psyche her out? What the hell was-

Didn't matter. Didn't frickin matter one bit. She was here to fight and she was here to win despite the unfamiliarity, and that was what she was going to do. Just as quickly as her gloves went up, they came down again and Nicky took a deep breath and found her composure, meeting the Carina in the centre. Maybe the damage was done already, but if Nicky pretended she didn't cower like a little girl at the dance, well, yeah.

Nicky wasn't quite as casually friendly and her opponent's cocky little comment didn't sit right with her, but she did extend her a courtesy. "Nicky." she said, giving her name as an introduction. She extended her taped hands for a boxer's fist bump. "I wouldn't expecting anything less than your best."

It was hard not to burst out laughing at the bewildered expression on her opponent's face as Carina completed her pre-fight ritual. Such affairs were normally stoic, with stone-cold gazes and tightly sealed lips as both fighters prepared to pummel each other in with their bare fists. This was turning out to be a whole different set of circumstances, but Carina didn't mind. In fact, she appreciated how the somewhat casual atmosphere between them was taking off the edge of what were normally bloody affairs.  

She accepted Nicky's boxer fist bump with one of her one before putting her palms together and delivering a traditional bow. "Carina" she said at the dip of the bow before extending herself back out. Sensing that the introductions and ceremonies were out of the way, the referee stepped in between the two and explained the usual shenanigans about rules and expectations before separating them a few feet apart. After several mutually nervous and excited glances were exchanged, the bell was finally rung, signaling the start of the fight.

Wanting to display her expertise in their fighting style of choice right off the bat, Carina thought it was only right that she take the initiative. She slowly shuffled forward, the toes on her leading foot bouncing rhythmically against the padded surface while her other foot provided grounded support from behind. her fists were raised at eye level with her elbows tucked deep into her body to defend her sides in case her opponent surprised her by attacking first, not that she planned to give her that opportunity of course.

Instead, Carina made the first move, launching her leading leg straight out in front of her in hopes of catching Nicky's midsection with a teep kick. It wasn't a move that would have any significant effect if properly guarded against other than pushing her opponent back a few feet, but if not, it could just as easily knock her off her feet altogether. Either way, it was a good kick to start with to gauge her opponent's strengths, especially for a fight that involved more than just their fists.

Carina.

Nice name. Puzzling choice of attire. Absurd selection of pre-fight ceremonies. Perplexingly violent pick of martial arts, but sure. Carina. If this went sideways in the worst possible way, she at least had a tail to pin onto the donkey that was this complete humiliation onto.

And when the bell rang, Nicky was hesitant for one of the few times in her life in the ring. She didn't know what to expect. Lethwei fights -real lethwei fights- were hard to come by in video form. Muay thai fights, on the other hand, were more readily accessible, and while hardly the same thing, seemed to have some semblance of similarities. She wasn't quite sure what to do if this crazily-dressed chick whacked her with a headbutt, but she would cross that bridge when she got there. Aside from that, she studied up a bit. There was no real time to really train up for it, but she had a working theory of what the kick-arts would deliver unto her-

But seeing it and taking it were two different things.

Her hesitation cost her. Where once she lead on the front foot, now she held back, shuffling along and waiting to see what Carina would do. Her opponent struck first, a front kick intended to push her back, and she brought her arms up to guard and it turned out a few hours of video tape didn't quite impart how much harder it was to block kicks. Carina's foot smashed into her guard, a punishing smack that sent surges of pain up her arm, and she was sent stumbling back a step, two.

Right, this wasn't working. This felt wrong. Whether boxing or this absurd sport, she was not a turtle hiding behind her guard. She was not Adele Monstrosorry, professional coward slash terrapin.

And so she stepped forward, seeking to bridge the distance between them, sending a flurry of punishing jabs to Carina's chest.