The Conquerors bloodline

Parc paused his stride through Kuo Kuana, pausing just before a more modernistic building far from the usual style found elsewhere. This had stone and concrete as its walls and its roof flatter than most. It was sturdier than the others, he could imagine a tornado ramming through it only to shatter the windows but leave the rest of the building whole.

From within the large concrete box, he could hear roars and wails, those of the more feminine persuasion. Curious, he inspected the sign hanging over the glass front door, Engage Fitness. A gym, he realized, though upon approaching the door he realized something else.

"Engage fitness/Ladies only"

His brows rose at that, "all women's gym," he chuckled and peered through the glass and into the building proper. It was spacious, he could tell that much from the open air he could see over the opaque screens that separated the entrance area and the actual gym where he could still hear the vigorous bellows of women at work.

Why exactly there were screens wasn't a matter of science, it was to stop people like him. Perverts from peering in while the women were doing their routines. Parc glanced at the sign and smirked. As he reached out for the handle, he was paused by the clearing of a throat from behind him and spun his head around to see who it had come from.

There, stood not far from him on the very path he'd tread, was a woman, no, a girl maybe a little younger than himself. She wasn't tall, just breaking the 180 mark with dark, almost chocolaty skin. Her top was that of a sleeveless blue hoodie which revealed the true majesty of her thick, muscular arms, the definition of all the groups like they'd been carved in the shape of venus, albeit, swole venus. Even her legs—calves mostly as he couldn't see the rest from her three-quarter pants—were tight and muscular. Most oddly though, was her soft face, more feminine and round than the rest of her body and framed by a head of luscious, short cut red hair with two longer bangs of a darker shade that descended to her hips.

Her vibrant, tangerine eyes locked to him as Parc fell to the singular cracked horn coming out her forehead. "What do you think you're doing?" she huffed, "this is a woman's only gym," she pushed past him, putting herself between him and the building. "Perverts not allowed."

Parc obediently stepped away, hands raising in defense of himself, "not a pervert," he said getting a doubtful raise of her brows, "was just curious about the building. It's different to the others I've seen around Kuo Kuana. Was tempted to go in, won't lie about that, but I just saw the sign myself."

The girl furrowed her lips but softened them slightly. "New to Kuo Kuana?" she gazed around his body seeking something, "you're a human?"

Parc bobbed his head to the side, "not quite."

"Half breed?"

"You could say. I just got here the day before yesterday, so I'm just taking a little stroll to look around. Saw this was a gym up there," he nodded to the sign, "thought I could get a good workout while I'm here for the rest of the week."

She followed his gaze around, not turning her body though, "sorry, ladies only. There's a gym down the way, take a left down there, follow the road and it's to the right, names Doit Excercise. Bit outdated but they've got some machines there. Enough for a bit of sweat."

Nodding along but chuckled and said, "a bit of sweat isn't what I'm looking for. You wouldn't happen to know if they do any combat sports there? Martial arts? Boxing? I'm wanting to get a spar in as well some time."

Her eyes sparkled with curiosity, "you're a fighter?" her lips curled up but she forced them down, "don't look like one." Though she could tell he wasn't inexperienced in the art of mortal combat.

"Not all fighters are muscles and brawn. Parc rolled his fingers, cracking the joints in the process, "I like to think myself the fighter that uses his brain."

"Can't imagine a brain will get you far in a fight when you get your leg broke cause you couldn't break a hold."

"Who said I'd ever let it get that far?" clenching his fist tight, he could see the girl was getting ornery, practically on the verge of bolting at him to send a fist out. Unlike Yang though, she held herself back.contemporary romance

She glanced over her shoulder, frowning in thought then bobbed her head and huffed, "said you wanted a spar yeah?" she said gruffly, "Tell you what. Give me five minutes and I'll see if the ladies back there'd be alright with a quick one on one. Me against you. Sound good?"

Parc smirked internally but externally put on a surprised expression. "Oh, you don't need to do that. I'm sure I can find somewhere else for a match."

"Ain't no problem. I've been vying to try myself on a man for a while now. Don't get much of a chance here. Just don't expect them to let you stay after I whoop you a new one."

"Now you're just being cocky." Straightening his posture, he put power into his form and loomed as well as he could, though she went entirely unaffected by it. "I'm game. Just be prepared to lose. Cause trust me, I'll make sure you do."

She smirked, lips curling back showing her vicious white teeth. "We'll see bout that. Five minutes." Turning she pushed into the building, dragging a rucksack with her over her shoulder and disappeared behind the screen. The noises of battle continued for a second or two then soon dwindled to nothing. Her approach to clear out the ring or whatever and get permission.

Soon, almost exactly five minutes later, she returned, leaning half out the door frame she looked to him and nodded her head, "we're on macho man. Ah, probably need some gym clothes. You staying far away?"

Parc shook his head, "no, no, I've got everything I need right here." He patted the satchel on his hip, getting a confused look from the brawny bronze girl as she looked between the small sack and Parc. "My pants are stretchy." He sighed and said.

She moved out of the way, opening the door for him in the process and shutting it as he passed it by. "This way," she lead him around the screen and into the large exercise room, on the left were a slue of machines, treadmills, bikes, rowing machines and the like with weights close to the entrance.

A loud and harsh crash from the side drew him to a sweat clad bear of a woman who'd just dropped a weight of, from the looks of it, at least sixty kilos. Rolling her shoulders, the titan of a woman watched him with sharp, narrowed eyes as he followed deeper into the gym. Past the yoga mats on the left where two lean women stopped their exercise to look up at him, blinking confusedly at the man in their effeminate locale. All around the building, nearly half a dozen women stopped what they were doing to turn and stare while another half dozen stood by a boxing ring far and to the right of everything else where punching bags and jump ropes lay neatly and ready.

As he passed them by, he could almost hear their eyes dilating and their noses sniffing the air. Even his guide paused for a second as out of the windy exterior, she got her taste—thought kept walking on.

The half dozen women by the ring looked to him, two he could see, one with slicked-back short hair faded on the left side dropped her bottle from her lip and glared at him with a scowl. While the other, a dozed looking cougar with tied-back brown hair eyed him through half slitted eyes. A noticeable red spot on her cheek looked but hours from turning blue.

"Ladies," his guide paused and turned to the rest of the fighters. "This's my prey for today." Twisting, she faced Parc and pointed into the distance, "ain't anyone in the changing rooms, get yourself ready and we'll get this done quick."

Parc nodded, "and you? Don't you also need to get dressed?" the rolled eyes and scowls of his less than abashed insinuation was loud and highly amusing to him.

"Nah," she pinched the bottom of her hoodie and ripped it up till her chest where he could see a grey sports bra wrapped tightly around her bosom. "I've got myself ready for a fight an hour ago."

Before he could leer any longer, she dropped her top and crossed her arms. Leaving no room for argument. "Got it, it's over there right?"

done.co