Games and Players (For snappleR)

"Thaaat's what he's saying," Blaise says simply. He'd already given his concession on it, and made his observation. Repeating himself would just sound like he's making excuses, or insisting people are wrong. And while the sentiment is similar to what that general manager had said, it actually wasn't the same message. Blaise still isn't sure what that message was, in fact. But whatever it was got him fired.

So Blaise goes quiet and eyeshifts aside, rotating the cup between his palms.

Blaise clearly didn't want to talk about it, and Amy was already hesitant to harsh the good times they'd been having. But, at the same time, it was prudent advice. And, if Blaise ever got that career ending injury, then where would she be? Without a dance buddy, that's where.

It was quiet for a moment as both wrestlers played with their drinks. "Do you think submitting and giving it your all are mutually exclusive?" It was a honest question, the answer to which she was genuinely curious about.

Unfortunately, that question is worded a little too ambiguously for a cautious Blaise to answer. His eyes lift to the girl again with a blink. He doesn't want to sound stupid, but at the same time, he has no idea what she's actually asking.

"Uh... n-.. no?," he chances. The cup is nudged away at this point, feeling very put on the spot. "I... don't know? What do you mean?"

"Like..." Amy turned her head to the side. And then the other. Her pony tail slipped back and forth like an imprinted puppy. "Can you feel like you've given your all in a match if, at the end, you submit to your opponent's hold?"

Blaise watches the blonde intently, but with a little reservation behind those eyes. This has begun to feel like an interrogation, and that's making him uncomfortable. He got enough disappointed looks and chastisement from his federation-assigned trainer.

"Well, sure. If I've actually done my best. If you're beat, you're beat." He clears his throat softly and redirects his eyes down to the cup.

Amy didn't want to push too far, and she thought she was approaching that line. It was clear that Blaise was tired of this sort of conversation, and they weren't close enough that Amy felt any responsibility for him. Just... she was concerned is all. Their relationship was in that weird space where they weren't strangers, so Amy could speak her piece and then never speak to him again, but they weren't friends, where Amy could give her unadulterated opinion without worrying about lasting damage to the bond. Theirs was a relationship still budding, and the wrong word could kill it where it stood.

Amy pulled Blaise's drink toward herself, stuck in her straw, and drank deep. She made a face. "Coconut." She pushed his drink back to the far side of the table. "Alright, it looks like this is making you uncomfortable, so I'm gonna back off. But if you let some other girl break your arm, just know that I'm gonna be real upset. I might come over and give you a matching set, champ." She innocently turned her attention back to her own drink, but kept an eye on Blaise to see his reaction.

She takes his drink and he blinks. He looks uncertain how to react to this. But what she says next gets a tiny, tiny smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Give a guy some credit. You didn't have me beat yet. I still gave you that kick afterwards. And totally set you up for a pin." He swings a foot under the table to nudge her shin with the toe of his shoe. "But, uh... if you didn't go full Christmas Story on my face, you would've had me for an easy pin at the end there." Toe-nudge. "Not that you're gonna get that chance again!"

He's making an obvious effort to lighten the mood with her, concerted with what he thinks is her own effort. He even reaches out to steal his cup. "For Champions of the Universe only."

Amy wasn't interested in another fight with Blaise, but she wasn't about to tell him that. "Yup, your pin was devastating. Honestly, I thought you'd just passed out on top of me."

But nice! She got an abbreviated address through. This could work. "The Champion of the Universe has some shitty tastes." Amy gestured with her cup, only to happy to change the subject and return to a lighter mood. "Where are you from, champ? You don't exactly look Japanese."

"Pins aren't s'posed'a be devastating," Blaise notes pointedly. "Supposed to just hold ya down." Silly girl.

He rolls his eyes and takes a draw from the straw. "The Champion of the Universe has taste way too refined for serfs to understand." He tips his head back just a hint, but enough to indicate he's lifting his nose at her. The question draws him out of this, however. "The name's probably a giveaway, too," he muses. "But I'm from Miami, Florida. Beaches, swamps, and old people."

"Fun. You look like a guy who grew up around a swamp." It also explained his sunny disposition. Amy leaned in, putting her elbows on the table. "I actually don't know a thing about it. What's your favorite thing about Miami?"