Breaking in New Talent

The Friction facility where Madeleine found herself a week before her debut liked to highlight, in the kinds of glossy sports photos common at bars and gyms, the notable talent who had passed through its doors. Valley Doll, Brittany Luuve, Cecilia Northman—they all made the “picture frame” cut, to be remembered and looked up to by generations of wrestlers, even after their time in the limelight ended.

Madeleine paid little mind. She passed the reception desk and keyed into the gym with her newly minted Friction fob while her mind focused less on the past than the path ahead. It wasn’t that she felt a lack of respect. These were icons. Patterns to their career, in and out of the ring, would be instructive...but that could come from videos, interviews. In-person, none of them were likely to offer her any assistance, so why should she concern herself with them?

But there was one (Aztec) champion willing to give the Countess her time and attention. Her name was Maria Castillo, and after what amounted to a lifetime of work in Mexico, she brought a legend’s worth of experience to the ring and enough pull to be valuable. It was perhaps odd that someone of that caliber would be offering lessons to novices; she had found the adage "those who can't do, teach" to be depressingly accurate. But then Maria was reaching a ripe age by the standards of this career. Perhaps she felt the tug of mortality, the graying and rolling up of her career, and wanted to leave a legacy. Madeleine could think of worse things to be than the legacy of a champion.

(Then again, she could think of better)

Before long, Madeleine had changed into her most modest ring gear (a skirted black one-piece with only hints of gold along the seam) and made her way to one of the several ring facilities. And there she saw Maria in the flesh. They were never quite as impressive in person.

“ONE…!”

Apparently, training had gone poorly for the previous student, who lay prone under “La Parca’s” pin. But then, maybe this conclusion was inevitable for trainees—a reminder that while they might have picked up some pointers from the champ, they had a lot of work left to do. Lessons in humility, as the old-hands liked to say.

“TWO…!”

It occurred to Madeleine she would need to submit herself to something similar in a short while. The idea sickened her. The room wasn’t quite what you’d call crowded, but there were people. They’d see her.

But we all pay our dues...

“THREE…!”

For both the champ and the student, Madeleine smiled and clapped. Politely.

Maria knew that her age would one day catch up to her fully. Hell, in many ways it was already starting to. Even though she didn't want to admit it, AFW's roster of women was already chalk full of talent that could put her through the ringer. Whether in the house show circuit or the arena matches, she knew she had to step up her game if she wanted to still maintain her standing as the Aztec Champion. Hell maybe even the Rising Star Champion if her match at Summer Splash worked out.

Her hair and skin shined with sweat from the training spar with another of AFW's more recent signings. The result was a forgone conclusion, but she was keen to push all that she could out of them to see the potential they had locked underneath. She brushed her hair back with one hand, laying her back over the prone body of the rookie with one leg hooked in the air, counting out loud for the rest, "One.....two.....three!"

The small group of newcomers clapped for her, as the luchadora helped her opponent to her feet, patting her on the shoulder, "All right, perhaps you want to focus on more submissions next time. You seemed a bit too focused on flashy slams that are easy to counter, but your holds are quite impressive already. Try and develop a style around them, and you'll be much better off on your first PPV match."

The student gave her a grateful bow, as much as her body ached doing so, and rolled out of the ring, leaving Maria alone as a few members of the crowd began to filter out from a long training session

Maria gave the usual signals of her expertise. Her movements in ring demonstrated the practiced automaticity of many years’ practice—every movement, from the pin to the handshake, was one she had not just performed thousands of times but thousands of ways in hundreds of places. The woman carried herself with that kind of confidence even someone like Madeleine would have difficulty faking.

And yet, Maria was, unmistakably, tired. Madeleine frowned. Coming to the tail-end of the champ’s session had always been a risk. It meant fewer people to watch her suffering the humiliation of training, but it also created the risk that Maria might be annoyed at her, might chew her out for showing up so late. But Madeleine hadn’t considered that the champ’s skills might deteriorate. Surely training some green-horns for an hour doesn’t take so much out of her…? Madeleine shook her head. The Countess wouldn’t be facing “La Parca” in a real match for a long while yet. Vulnerability analysis could come later. For now, focus should be on scraping every hint and tip possible from this training.

Madeleine grabbed the rope and pulled herself into the ring. She stood, fixed her hair, and met the gaze of her mentor of the hour.

“Too bad I didn’t make it sooner.” Madeleine tried to look sheepish, but the feeling was alien to her. The best she could manage was a faint smile. “I’m sure seeing the way you broke that one down would have taught me a lot.” The blonde tied her golden hair back in a spar-ready ponytail. “I hope you have time for one more?”

Maria had just moved over to the ropes, retrieving a small towel to dry off her hair and exposed parts of her mask. In truth she had been training for a bit longer than an hour....yeah her enthusiasm often got the better of her and often resulted in her running over time....a lot. Yeah she'd have to apologize for running late to dinner again sometime.

That's when the newcomer caught her eye, while she was taking a long drink from her water bottle. Now normally she would have preferred to simply end the night there, as she doubted she could honestly deliver a good match 4 times in a row, even against rookies she had been walking through each match. But seeing the look on her face, and the genuine want to learn, warmed her heart just a bit. Maybe when this whole active wrestler run was finished, she could simply be a trainer...yeah...that sounded nice.

"Of course." Maria replied, smiling warmly after she managed to regain her breath. One hand brushed her hair back, readjusting her ponytail and moving closer to extend her hand out, "Always lovely to help out a student..and you are?"

Madeleine took the woman’s hand, drew it to herself, and kissed the lovely, dark wrist. The one part of her Countess gimmick that Madeleine liked to carry outside the ring, the gesture, ostentatious even in Marseille, rarely failed to leave an impression.

“Madeleine Citronelle. And of course, you need no introduction, Miss Castillo. I’ve seen several of your matches, but the title defense against La Atómica—that one I had to watch more than once. Your execution on that last springboard cutter was…” Without releasing Maria's hand, the Countess made an “o” with her free fingers and gently smacked her lips. Chef’s kiss. “particularly memorable.”

In spite of Madeleine’s French background, her accent was perfect, clipped Hollywood. She’d put in the effort with her English. American was the dialect of people like Judie Dench and Brad Pitt—of money, of power, of attention.

Maria's storm grey eyes widened in surprise as the lovely young woman raised her wrist to her lips, kissing the luchadora's hand in a formal gesture that made her cheeks flush a dark shade of crimson under the mask. She had been warned that she may attract the attention of other women in AFW. The background of the federation led to quite a few relationships developing between competitors backstage, but Maria felt her age would make her unapproachable in regards to romantic gestures.

Clearly she was mistaken. Even if the kiss was purely aromantic and strictly for ceremony, the praise being showered on her made that blush a bit more permanent on her shocked face, "I...I did not know so many younger talent were familiar with my work to that degree! La Atomica isn't a match I see people talk about now....seems you've done your research senorita...I am quite humbled."

Madeleine kept her face placid—but it took willpower. She wanted to laugh. Derisively. To snort. The champ was gushing like the prince of prom had just complimented her teenage hair-do.

Instead of laughing, the Countess released Maria’s hand and bent at the hip—a little bow. “Perhaps it is less well known because it was not so flashy as your more well-remembered matches. Not as much money in the set or camera work.” Madeleine used her hands to illustrate her words, lifting a hand to signify all that flash. Then with a gesture she brushed it aside. ”But. I was watching to learn, not for play. Speaking of.”

Now the hands became fists. Arch as a tuxedo up to this point, Madeleine pointed a toe at the champ and became suddenly loose and bouncing in a boxer’s guard.

“I believe a saying from my country might be appropriate—En garde, madame?”

"That's fair...though I will always have a fondness for those smaller venues. Not sure why...they just felt quite...homely for lack of a better term." she smiled back, inclining her head at the bow Medeleine gave her. Formal as ever, fitting with this more graceful air she had been putting on since she stepped into the ring.

"Very well...if you wish to learn, then who am I to deny a lesson~?" she grinned, crouching down and taking a deep breath, a look of determination taking over those grey eyes. Tired as she was...she was sure she could get a decent lesson and assessment out of her.

After a moment, the luchadora lunged forward, bringing her right leg up in a snap kick to her student's knee, "Ha!"