[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/GWCYoab.png[/img][/center] [color=c4df9b][hr][/color] [quote]“Well, I suppose you could say I’m from around the Mediterranean, a rather religious community. I’ve been traveling away from it for quite a while though; I’ll have to admit I’m a bit older than I look.”[/quote] Beatriz nodded, interested to meet fighters from around the world with different life experiences than her. [color=c4df9b]”Cool! Older than you look, huh?”[/color] She scratched her head. She wasn’t sure what to make of that, so she settled on old reliable. [color=c4df9b]”Well, y’know…yeah, cool!”[/color] She said. [color=c4df9b]”I guess that makes this my first time talkin’ to someone from the other side of the ocean.”[/color] [quote]“Heavens, no!” Rosie smiled. “I have nothing better to do until the tournament, personally. But don’t let me keep you, either. If you want my advice, it wouldn’t hurt to scope out the competition. I suppose I’ve already given you a bit of a start, but-”[/quote] [color=c4df9b]”That’s good. I didn’t really expect to talk to anyone at all. You look you have…I dunno. Fans, or some shit.”[/color] She laughed sheepishly, rubbing her arm. Bea startled, ducking and moving her hands defensively to her head as she heard an explosion. It wouldn’t be her first time taking cover from sudden gunshots, and for a moment it showed on her face. [color=c4df9b][i]”Caralho![/i] What the fuck was that? Someone throwing bombs around in here?”[/color] She brushed her hands against her shirt, chuckling nervously. When Rosie offered Beatriz a phone, the girl raised her hands in a placating manner. [color=c4df9b]”Thank you, but-”[/color] She reached a front pocket on her bag and produced a flip phone. [color=c4df9b]”I got my own!”[/color] [color=c4df9b]”Alright, I’m gonna call ‘em, I guess. Thanks for helping me out and chattin’ and stuff, Miss Rosie.”[/color] Beatriz said. [color=c4df9b]”For some reason, I have a hard time picturin’ you losin’.[/color] She said with a tilt of her head. Gathering up her backpack she gave Rosie a casual salute and went to a quieter corner of the area, dialing the number of her home. Bea plugged her other ear and held the phone close. “Beatriz, my wonder child!” The voice of her father came in, speaking in Portuguese. “How are you? Are you going to fight yet? Going to bloody up some noses for us?” [color=c4df9b]”That’s the plan, Papa.”[/color] Bea responded in kind with a smile. “Maria! Bianca! Girls! Get over here, it’s Beatriz!” She could hear her father shouting. “She’s gonna fight soon!” “Ack, I hate it! Why!” Came the distant voice of her mother. “Because-” Her father turned his attention back to the phone. “Bea, are you nervous? You must be nervous.” [color=c4df9b]”Ehh, a little…”[/color] Bea admitted. In truth her heart was pounding just thinking about getting onto that stage. “Well, don’t be.” Her father said. “I don’t know much about fighting, but I know a Barro doesn’t do anything at half effort.” “And if you lose,” Her mother began. “She won’t lose!” Dad replied. “And if you lose, you will be our special little girl and I have prepared dessert for you. And there is always next year. You are so very young, Beatriz, and I hate your passion but I love you so much, and I support you.” [color=c4df9b]”Thanks, Mamae-”[/color] Bea replied. Her mother’s distaste for fighting always got a good-natured wince out of Beatriz, because, really, mom was right. Bea could literally be doing anything else. If she had chosen to follow football as her athletic passion, she would probably save her mother a lot of stress. Unfortunately for everyone, nothing made Beatriz happier than fighting. “Beatriz. Beatriz!” Came Bianca’s voice. “How about this- the Barro Barrage! You jump on them and do a SHIT ton of punches!” “Language!” “Language!” [color=c4df9b]”Language!”[/color] “What- but BEA gets to swear!” Bianca whined. “Well,” Papa said. “That is because Beatriz is a lost cause. There is still hope for you.” [color=c4df9b]”Gee, thanks.”[/color] “Am I wrong?” [color=c4df9b]”No, but it still hurts, you know?”[/color] Bea said with a laugh. [color=c4df9b]”Let’s go back to the part where you all tell me how much you love me and how proud you are and how proud I should be. That was my favorite part.”[/color] Bea said this and then put the phone away from her ear as her family on the other side did just that. A request like that, even made in irony, would never be turned down on the side of her parents. [color=c4df9b]”That did the trick.”[/color] “Bla bla bla bla-, oh, are we done?” Bianca said with a giggle. [color=c4df9b]”Hey, yeah. Bianca. I want a new picture of me raising my hands in victory when I’m done, okay? I think I’ll put my trophy in front of yours, if that’s good with you.”[/color] [i]“Thhbpbpbpbpbpbpbt.”[/i] Came the eloquent response. “Listen to me, Bea.” Papa said, serious. “I want you to go out there and show them what you are made of. You are made of tougher stuff. You have a fire in your eyes, I have seen it. I look at you, and I see someone who only gets stronger every day because she wishes it so. You have worked so hard for this- don’t think for one second you don’t deserve to be out there. Because you do.” “I don’t want you to think things like: Oh, it’s okay if I lose, they are older than me, they are more experienced than me. Those things can wait. If you want to win, you have to WANT to win. You have to [i]know[/i] you will win. Because your opponents will look at you and know without a doubt they can beat you. You must stand firm. As you rise, they will crack. Trust me, I know these things, I am your father. We love you, [i]I[/i] love you, Beatriz.” Beatriz was quiet for a moment. Clearing her throat, she turned into the corner she was standing in so the other competitors didn’t see her eyes getting wet. [color=c4df9b]”Damn.”[/color] [color=c4df9b]”Thanks, Dad.”[/color] At that moment, Beatriz winced as the loud announcer lady began to announce very loudly. [color=c4df9b]”Oh, shit- o-okay, I gotta go! Love you guys, bye!”[/color] She clacked the phone shut and shoved it back into her pack. Bouncing on her heels she slapped her head a few times and got into game mode. Though, she couldn’t help but give the announcer another sideways glance. [color=c4df9b]”Is that- should we do something about that worm?”[/color] — Beatriz stepped up into the arena. Underneath her ill-fitting hand-me-downs was the body of a fighter. Her shoulders, legs, and abs were toned and not as lean as one might expect. Beatriz’s style included bursts of raw power. Her coach had given her fighting gear, and Beatriz was representing her gym in the ring. A black sports bra and black trunks with green outlines was the primary outfit, as simple as it got. Around her hands were some fingerless gloves, and her feet were bare save the ankle-supporting wrappings around them. The previous night Beatriz had hunted down every last stray piece of body hair and eliminated it with laser precision, from her legs to her armpits. She showered religiously to reduce the chances of breaking out. Beatriz sometimes thought she was too tomboyish to be self-conscious, but all that went out the window when the eyes of the world would be on her. The announcer called out Beatriz and Brenda. [color=c4df9b]”It- it’s Beatri[i][b]Z[/b][/i]. Not Beatrix!”[/color] She called out, trying not to let it get under her skin. When she opened her mouth, the green mouth guard lining her teeth was made visible. Thus the finer points of her consonant correcting might have been lost in all the din. Bea bounced lightly from foot to foot, though, her heart pumping. She eyed her opponent. What is it with all these tall women today? Brenda seemed confident. Bea thought about what her father said and steeled her resolve. [color=c4df9b]”All right. All right.”[/color] She raised and lowered her fists rhythmically. [color=c4df9b]”Boxer versus boxer, huh? Right? You ready for this? I’m goin’ all out, lady.”[/color] She jogged towards the center of the ring to meet her. [color=c4df9b]”I can’t wait!”[/color] Was Beatriz ready? She had to be!