Sakura had arrived into town and squared away a small apartment for herself. Later tonight she planned to go start her career at vigilante justice. To begin the work of cutting a bloody path through the criminal circles. Right now however the job was a simple one, with a home and plans for the night the redhead needed one more thing, somewhere to train. Combat sports was her life. Six years old her grandfather said "Aka I wish to teach you" from then on Aka was a nickname she had taken to and the Rose looked to study every means of combat she could find. She drove around town and looked for the first gym to really seize her attention.
This lead her to the Infinity gym the owner was preoccupied at the time out doing something else. This was a slight bummer as the rose waned to try her hand at the membership deal. This seemed the best domain though to practice, Aka was immediately drawn to the warm atmosphere. She signs up and then goes to change. A black karate gi was switched into. The v-neck went a bit low though the martial artist hadn't minded. It lacked sleeves showcasing arms that were remarkably wellndeveloped especially for her age. Aka wasn't going to sneak into any bars, was no hiding she was still young. Her physique though was sharpened to a weapon.
Rose wanted a partner someone to maybe help manage weights or who she could help. Or better yet a spar, Aka knew that was arguably an unfair desire to have. That said the vigilante enjoyed the act of fighting to much not to. Back in Osaka the woman had agreed to a contest from anyone be they a young martial artist like she had been to seasoned veterans. At the moment though the gym was fairly silent and nobody to interact with, hopefully it wouldn't last long for the moment though Rose took to the bags solo setting up her phone to provide some music.
Filament by Yousei Teikoku playing as the redhead began to assault a heavy punching bag hanging from the ceiling. The martial artist though nearly made the bag dance with her strikes. It's heft not halting it from feeling the force of countless mixture of kicks and punches. The song choice was metal and yet the ronin looked to strike it with the same kind of speed such a song provided. "Really could go for some company. Need to pick up more hobbies with friend potential."
The martial artist wasn't sure if it was just bad luck or not. Aka though couldn't help from letting the words slip. She was perhaps a bit to honest and transparent for her own good. The redhead was new to the city with right now nobody to call friend. Attitude of hers while incredibly comfortable in the ring wasn't looking for isolation or being the edgy loner. Amusingly despite being a monster as a vigilante she didn't wanted edgy tropes of individualism and isolation.
Spork is on the hunt for a new gym. The one they usually go to is still fine, but the clientele has been slowly and not-so-stealthily infiltrated by middle-aged men. Like, seriously, so many of them. It’s drawing every dad and uncle in the area out of the woodwork, and it’s nearing critical mass. One Spork can only tolerate so much Alpha posturing and Old Spice. They don’t want to spend every workout listening to golfing techniques.
And, yeah, okay, they did break the finger of one of the dads when he tried to “help” them with their weights, but no one can prove they did that. At least, not yet. But that (among other incidents) might show up in their ledger soon, so that’s just extra fuel for the new-gym fire. It’s either that or beg Mari to erase the video feeds, and they’re still stuck doing dishes for the next three days after the last favor they asked. No, thank you, they’re a strong independent Spork who don’t need no hacking prowess.
It’s not like they’re technologically inept. They were able to find their way to Infinity Gym just fine. And here they are! Totally doing the thing.
Now it’s just a matter of… finding everything again. Ugh. This is why they don’t change gyms. Getting familiar with a whole new layout is more trouble than it’s worth.
They’re wandering around, tapping absently at things with their cane, when they pass someone absolutely blasting some anime-type music. They listen for a moment, and from the sound of it whoever it is is also whaling on a punching bag like it called them names. Those are solid hits, with a good amount of force behind them and no pausing to tend to bruises from poor form. Nice. They decide they can overlook the weeaboo shit if this turns out to be a promising sparring partner. Anything is better than another dadly type.
“Hey.” They’re standing just out of arm’s reach, their hands folded over the top of their cane as it rests on the ground before them. “You wanna go a few rounds in the ring, or is that punching bag just that annoying?”
They’re wearing their usual gym fare: a tank top with arm slits that go all the way to their hips, a Miku-patterned sports bra, and track pants. It’s a delicate balance, looking both cool and unhinged, and they like to toe the line. They like to think of it as the preliminary test to see who can handle them.
"It dishonered my family it's a deserved beating." The redhead remarked taking a moment to lower the volume of her music before turning to face the woman who spoke. It was a fascinating sight to Aka, work out attire had a way of showcasing ones physique and the definition was there. With it though was the glasses and cane of the blind. Those facts alone thrilled her, Aka was no blind swordsman and her training hadn't necessarily gotten to far in deprivation of senses. She came here looking to challenge herself and one look at this woman gave her ideas on how she could try and improve. There was also the request to spar though no need getting lost in training ideas when a chance to fight was on the table already. One that thrilled her, Aka saw a fighter and it made her picture the coming fight of her against the blind swordsman she wasn't. She didn't see a disability she saw a marvel.
Though the fashion sense was a bit more questionable. Seemed to bombastic and uncoordinated. Then again wasn't like Aka could judge fashion. Part of her immediately went to thinking it a disarming tactic however. No reason to think it so she just wanted the states to be fantastical. For her she latched on to the idea of the odd get up as a ruse, because it enabled her fantasy of being a warrior in strange lands. 'Names Sakura, or Rose. There's a ring about seven paces to your left meet you there."
She wasn't sure if the woman would know Aka bowed but the ronin did so all the same. She considered saying Aka, that nickname she liked more. The ronin knew though she was likely going to introduce herself as Aka when doing vigilante stuff however if she gave a name instead of some heroic title. Though in hindsight a moment after she smiled at her stupidity. Her title was Decaying Rose, perhaps that was a stupid move on her part then to chose Rose instead. At any rate the ronin dashed to the ring. With a leap to enter the squared circle, it couldn't be helped on her end. For all her composure she could have at times the eagerness to spar could easily win her over.
Aka also just wanted to be in the ring first to offer a helping hand if wanted. She hoped it wasn't an offending gesture she just liked being there for fight enthusiasts. To her it was a motion she'd have done for anyone. "
"Make the first move whenever ready. If I may though, whats your perception of this place?" There was a set of brief pauses there. "See" was the word that came to mind but she tried to correct herself with "perception" a less direct word. She also had wanted to say "me" not "this place". That seemed to intrusive though or perhaps forward. Aka couldn't help her curiosity though she wondered how a fighter read to someone blind. How honed in was those senses? There was an excitement to Sakura in learning how a fighter and suroundings were taken in when denied the means most knew.
“Nice.” Spork follows Sakura to the ring at her direction, their cane tapping out the distance ahead of them until it meets the side of the raised platform. They bend to lay their cane on the ground and duck under the ropes, emerging within the ring and leaning back with their hands on their hips to stretch their back out. Maybe they should’ve taken some time to stretch first before throwing the gauntlet down. Oh well. Hindsight, and all that.
Ms. Cherry Blossom’s question is met with a blank not-stare and a quirk to their lips that makes their smile somehow more crooked. “Iunno. It’s got good reviews on Google. Do I look like Yelp to you?”
They stretch their arms over their chest, limbering up for a few moments more. “At least it doesn’t stink of Old Spice or B.O., am I right? Five stars just for that.”
They decide they’re warm enough and step closer to the center of the ring, listening for Rose and throwing a somewhat weakened, telegraphed punch towards her. No sense in going all-out, not if they actually want a spotter or sparring buddy. They keep their arms up like a boxer, their stance steady. No tricky footwork for them, no sirree.
