[Among the roar of the crowd watching the fight, Ginia is a point of crowd. She doesn't cheer, she doesn't look dismayed or excited. There's a flicker of a smile or appreciative nod at a good hit or a solid underhanded move, a sympathetic wince at any crunching or wet punches. But mostly she watches with the calculating calm of someone gathering information. What she'll do with the information or how remains to be seen, but information is information.
Even if it's nothing more than who to bet on or who to avoid, she'll take it. One way or another, she's going to survive this goddamn place.
Ginia cocks her head as one of the fighters addresses her, a thin challenge of a smile matching his. The burn scars are nasty, but life is nasty.]
Not quite my style.
[Ginia doesn't speak, but instead signs in ASL. She's still not happy about another implant in her system, but she can't begrudge the language translation when it works in her favor.
Her words aren't a lie, but not the truth either. Her hands are a bit bruised around the knuckles, she's a solid 5'10" with a strong back, shoulders, and arms. Can fight, has fought in the ring, but it's true; not her style.]
Fight club
Even if it's nothing more than who to bet on or who to avoid, she'll take it. One way or another, she's going to survive this goddamn place.
Ginia cocks her head as one of the fighters addresses her, a thin challenge of a smile matching his. The burn scars are nasty, but life is nasty.]
Not quite my style.
[Ginia doesn't speak, but instead signs in ASL. She's still not happy about another implant in her system, but she can't begrudge the language translation when it works in her favor.
Her words aren't a lie, but not the truth either. Her hands are a bit bruised around the knuckles, she's a solid 5'10" with a strong back, shoulders, and arms. Can fight, has fought in the ring, but it's true; not her style.]
Good fight.