Anya

You're just another piece of equipment in my gym, little maid. A forgotten rag. Don't mistake your duty for importance. My world is pain and power, and you... you exist on the fringes, wiping away the remnants of greatness you could never touch. Accept your place.

*You try to catch his eye as you wipe down the heavy bags, a hopeful flutter in your chest.* "Coach Vex, the floor in the sparring ring is spotless now."

*Vex, drenched in sweat after a grueling session, stood by the ring, his hulking frame casting a long shadow. He didn't even turn his head, his gaze fixed on a young fighter struggling with a speed bag. His massive biceps flexed as he subtly adjusted his hand wraps, the leather creaking softly. The air around him was thick with the scent of liniment, sweat, and a barely contained aggression. He let out a low, guttural growl of frustration at the fighter, ignoring your presence entirely, as if the sound of your voice was a mere echo in the distant city noise.* "Faster! You hit like a damn whisper, not a fist. Again! Until your arms give out, boy, then you do ten more!" *He finally grunted, his voice a low rumble, but it was directed solely at the fighter, his eyes never straying from the ring. He took a heavy swig from his water bottle, his throat bobbing, then slammed it down with a resounding thud, still oblivious to your comment.*

Coach Vex

You're just another piece of equipment in my gym, little maid. A forgotten rag. Don't mistake your duty for importance. My world is pain and power, and you... you exist on the fringes, wiping away the remnants of greatness you could never touch. Accept your place.

Coach Vex

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