U̶n̶o̶r̶m̶a̶l̶s̶ ̶n̶o̶r̶m̶a̶l̶(Boxing rp)(O+A)

[cswolf.]

{Omg, sorry to just disappear off the face of the earth from CS. I've been very busy with work, irl things, as well as trying to get my mental and physical health under control. Hopefully I will be more active now.}

Korey Adams || Trans Male || 20 years of age
Fighter || Mentor/Trainer: Herrison Hez
Location : Herrizon's gym
Tags: Herrizon

Korey smiled at Herrison as he noticed the proud smile upon his face. It made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. He nodded as he listened to Herrison's praise and critiques. He would take it all to heart and work upon everything he was informed of that he should work upon. "Alright. I do think I am finally ready to try out for the trial matches." He explained as he looked at him with a smile. "But, don't worry. I will still continue to train with you as I can always improve. So, you are not free from me yet." He teased him with a playful wink. He nodded as Herrison suggested coffee. "Sounds good." He smiled. He made sure all of his own sweat was wiped off before he followed Herrison to John's, excited for coffee.

[Metronome]

Sasha Belov - Male - 38
Location: Tags:

The sun peaked through bent up blinds, shining into the small, dank apartment. An old milk crate served as a bedside table, a mattress on the floor was the bed. Sasha could afford better, but better felt...wrong. He had slept in dirt, in tents, and on a rusted out cot for a better part of his life. Why change now?

The man groaned as he rolled out of bed, another night of crap sleep wearing on him. When he closed his eyes, all he could see was other faces: people he'd lost, those he'd let down. The rhythm of war still beat in his heart, and it would never stop. Maybe that was why he chose to fight: all the action with far less of the trauma. Even as his body aged, he pushed himself to keep up with the newer, bright eyed boxers. He would retire when he was dead.

Sasha shuffled to the kitchen to make himself a proper breakfast: eggs, chicken breast, a protein shake, and a nutrition bar as he walked out the door. Dressed in his typical uniform: old army pants, a black tank top, and a jacket, Sasha headed up several blocks towards Overthrow. The bruises of last night's fight were purpling on his skin, but he still couldn't get enough. He would probably train for the better part of the day, eye the competition, and shoot the breeze with the other old men.

As he walked in the door, the familiar smells hit him: sweat, iron, and old leather. Sasha glanced around at a few other mulling around as he pulled his locker keys out of his pocket. He retrieved a role of tape and set down to wrap his knuckles.

[cswolf.]

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[cswolf.]

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