Training day. Though, it seemed every day was training day for him, didn’t it? He was there for at least three hours a day and if no one else took notice, he had. He enjoyed the feeling of muscle tearing itself apart only to be repaired stronger than before. He also enjoyed the fights and the ability to take his anger out on anyone foolish enough to step into the ring with him; but, then again those who stepped in felt the same way he did. Today was different, though, or at least he had hoped it would be.

He spent the better part of the day working his chest, biceps, and core muscles but ensured that he worked on his lower body to balance it out too. Seeing other members with scrawny legs and a muscular upper body served as a constant reminder of that, he thought as he laughed at those who care only about arm strength. He shook his head and eventually decided that a break was necessary, so he moved to a bench near the ring and sat next to an acquaintance. “Who's getting in the ring today?” Nikolas asked Anthony.

“Bruno and Vincenzo,” Tony responded a moment later. Nikolas nodded as he drank some water he had brought with him. He knew both fighters and it was a fairly even match, which meant it would probably last a few rounds. There were no draws here. Nikolas looked back at Anthony again. “You know anyone from arrpee, inc? I’m looking for some work and I heard they the ones running the Strip. You know how much I like blackjack…” Nikolas said as the fight was already a few rounds underway.

“I don’t think---” Tony responded before being cut off by a man that was roughly Nikolas’ size. “You asking about arrpee? What’s a scrawny little punk like you want to do with the mob?” the mouthy man challenged.

“Who the fuck you think you’re talking to?” Nikolas said firmly after standing to his full height. He came out to be maybe an inch taller then the man. The man stood his ground and seemed cocky. “I’m one of their associates, so you better watch your tone,” he responded. Nikolas laughed. He seemed young and headstrong.

“You’re worth about as much to them as I am, so I don’t think they’ll have a problem if I beat the information I want out of you, since I’m past asking,” Nikolas said firmly. He wasn’t fond to being interrupted or called out and his wasn’t one with a long temper as it was. Within a few minutes, they were in one of the other rings and had been prepared to fight.

The fight lasted about a round and a half before the RP, Inc associate was laid out with a single powerful uppercut, though not for lack of being a good fighter. Each fighter had spent about half a round figuring the others style and strength before they started throwing punches. Some were calculated and some were wild, but none connected well enough to cause damage. Halfway through the second round, the associate got cocky and started trying for combos. Nikolaus waited for the moment that he would stumble through a combo before launching the uppercut.

Silently and without boasting, Nikolaus stood above the associate. He was bleeding but he was alive and had just come back from being stunned but his count was already up. “Find out who I need to talk to about work and get me an audience. You’ll be able to find me here,” Nikolas said before helping the man up. “And work on those combos.”

The associate scurried off after a while to inform Kathryn and Merci that there was someone interested in working for them.

Merci came around the gym the next day, while Nikolas was sparriing with a partner in the ring, presumably to stay at the top of his game. She watched his hands, his footwork, and most importantly, his defense as they traded blows, Nikolas dodging most of his opponent's efforts. She had a fondness for fighting, had been training for one herself before both her sparring partner and gym manager had gone down in the last war. This fella seemed tireless, and after half an hour, Merci had forgotten why she'd come as she found herself imperceptibly bobbing and weaving in time with the man she'd come to see.

Finally, the kid he was in the ring with needed a break, and Merci walked over to Nikolas' corner, taking her time, because she knew he was about to...yep, there it was. Swish and spit into the bucket. Backwash spattered to the floor, inches from her shoes.

Grinning, she looked up at the man removing his headgear.

"Great form...Nikolas, I presume? I'm Merci. Got a minute?" She asked, grabbing a hand towel off the stool near the edge of the ring and tossing it up to him.

As the spar had ended and he was coming back to reality from his tunnel vision, Nikolas didn't even notice the pair of ladylike shoes. He hadn't seen that they nearly caught the splash back from his nearby spit bucket either, but such was the potential casualty of being in a fighter's corner. Anyone who was a fighter or worked with one knew it and little did he know, Merci was and did. Finally, the woman's voice brought him fully back to the present and he caught the towel reflexively.

"For you, I have several," came Nikolas' boneheaded response. He didn't know who he was talking to. How could he? The RP associate hadn't returned that day or even the next morning, so he had assumed he didn't pass the work.

As Nikolas climbed down, Merci stared appreciately. Not in the typical way that a woman would stare at a sweaty man's form...well, okay, maybe a little...but much more so with the critical eye of a potential opponent. 

And knew immediately that he was far above her league; no one she'd ever train enough to be able to compete with. Ah, well. Maybe he could teach her a thing or two.

As he approached, she skimmed the room for ears, and seeing none close enough to hear, she spoke.

"You're...looking for work, as I understand it? A little birdie told me. A badly bruised, humiliated little birdie," she added, a lopsided grin lifting her lips.

Suddenly realizing who it was that he was talking to, he appeared to straighten up a little bit no matter how hard he tried to play it off. He cleared his throat and threw his own inconspicuous look around the gym before turning back to respond to the woman standing in front of him. It was interesting, really, when he thought about it. He towered over her by a few inches, likely doubled her in weight, and considering one of her legs would fight inside his biceps when it came to volume... but the power levels were heavily in her favor, or at least that's the feeling that she gave off.

After their bout, Nikolas had instructed this little birdie to find him someone worth talking to in RP, Inc so that was another hint. Now he felt stupid about his response to her question about having a minute, but the words had been said and she didn't seem offended by them. He didn't give them a second thought.

"I hope I didn't embarrass your associate too badly," Nikolas started quietly. He gave Merci another look before continuing. "Yeah, I'm looking for work. You got any?" he said curiously.

Several possibilities ran through her mind, most of them clean.

"Well. Yes. Walk and talk? I get fidgety in gyms," she says, starting a slow stroll around the circuit, absorbing the techniques of various fighters. 

"Big move out to LA, I should mention that first off. You'd have to relocate. I mean, we'd like to see folks flying back to Vegas pretty often to maintain some business interests there, but out on the coast? Sky's the limit. We're seeking motivated, enterprising individuals with good business sense. We're not really the penny ante crew that'll have you out there pushing drug deals in back alleys. Could definately use some muscle...not a meat shield, mind you. Someone motivated to get somewhere, make it big. California is a damn big oyster, we need more help cracking that sucker open," she says, dodging backwards a bit as a spray of sweat rained down on the floor ahead of them. The two boys in the next ring weren't messing around.

"Does any of that appeal to you?" she asks, watching him carefully.

"City of Angels, huh? I bet you'll fit right in," Nikolas said charmingly and with a bit of a push on his luck with who would likely be his boss or one of his bosses. He made his way around the gym with Merci. The City of Angels, otherwise known as Los Angeles, would be an interesting change for him. He knew that there was nothing in particular tying him to Las Vegas or even New York, where he was from originally. Now seemed as good a time as any to seize the opportunity presented before him.

"Oh, it all interests me. I've heard the stories about you guys or at least the ones you want heard. Now I want to make some stories of my own," Nikolas said as they neared the door. "Have you had anything to eat yet? We could discuss it in more detail over some lunch," Nikolaus offered. "My treat," he added. This was a bold move, he knew, but he also knew that you didn't get anywhere in this world by being a pussy.

They've stopped walking, and happenstance would have it that there was another spit bucket near their feet. Glancing down, she notices a tooth at the bottom of this one. Pinching the bridge of her nose and surpressing a gag, she looks back up at Nikolas . 

"Are you the adventurous type? We've got..." she looks at her watch quickly, "about an hour before the crew plane leaves for the west coast. Just enough time to pack your bags. Kathryn keeps a light menu on her private flights, but we could be eating fresh catch of the day at a beachfront restaurant in a couple hours, if you're game?" She asks, trying really hard to pretend that tooth wasn't there. 

"I'm in," Nikolas affirmed after a long moment.

He seemed to look at Merci seriously when he committed himself to the crew. So this was it and he was on his way to the City of Angels with two women and a whole crew that he just met. You never get anywhere without taking risks and this was a risk, but it was a risk that he knew would be worth the reward. He looked up at the ring beside them and then peered down at the tooth that caught his eye.

"I'm surprised he has any left, to be honest," Nikolas commented idly. "Where is the plane taking off from? I'll be there in a half hour."

Grinning, she outstretched her hand. 

"Pleased to have you aboard, Nikolas . At the airport, just keep going past the main terminal. There's a private gate beyond it. Give them this," she says, handing him an RP, Inc. business card. It was a bit unusual; it was heavier than typical card stock and there were some coded numbers and letters running along one side. "Guards will let you right in, and onto the tarmac."

Looking down, she realizes her other hand is still grasping his. With an embarrassed chuckle, she turns his hand loose and shakes her head. A lifetime of flirting would be a damn hard habit to break.

"See you in a bit!" She calls over her shoulder as she turns to leave.

He waved to her as she left the gym, hating to see her leave but loving to watch her go. He chuckled at his own amused thoughts and turned back into the gym, gathering what he had there with him which wasn't much. A duffle bag, an old water bottle, and some gym shoes was all that he took with him back to the small one bedroom place he was renting. He looked around at the dregs that he called home and thought that he would miss it, because what could beat living on the Las Vegas strip? Almost nothing, but here he didn't have much except the gym and a few deadend jobs he worked to pay for food.

The City of Angels was his destination and after a short bout with his former roommate, he was into the shower and off to packing. He met his roommate through a love of fighting and so sometimes they would randomly try new grappling moves on each other and Nikolas had yet to try a new guard manoeuvre on his friend. After he was packed, showered, and dressed in the nicest thing he had - a pair of tan dress pants, a white button down shirt, and some off brand business shoes. He doubted it would impress anyone and he would need to make sure to buy some suits... or something. He was new to this. All of this.

He thumbed the thick business card that he had in his left front pocket as he made his way through the airport terminal after being dropped off. Truth be told, he cleaned up decently when he wanted to. He did have all of his teeth, after all, and that made him one of a kind in the fighting world. He pulled the card out with his left hand, a muscular arm suspending his single duffle bag out with his right hand. The guard let him by and he walked out into the bright Las Vegas sun, eyeing the plane that he was destined for. He began looking around with Merci .

Merci is handing her bags to the steward out on the tarmac, the belly of the plane near full of the last of her belongings, and life, in Vegas. She turns and lifts her sunglasses onto her head, looking for her new associate. Spotting him, she waves her arm and smiles, happy that he hadn't changed his mind and decided to try his luck elsewhere. It was a big move to make with no safety net, after all. 

She waits for him to approach, and the steward grabs his belongings and stores them inside as well before closing up the panel and walking off with a respectful wave.

"Glad you could make it, Nikolas . I think we're about ready to go," she says as the lovely stewardess pops her head around the open doorway at the top of the stairs.

"Pilot is ready when you are, Ma'am! Can I start you folks off with some cocktails and refreshments?" She asks cheerfully. She had the easiest, most well-paid part time job on the planet, so she could afford to be cheerful.

Turning to Nikolas, she raises an eyebrow. "You a drinking man, Nikolas, or one of those my-body-is-a-temple type of fighters who are into clean living?" She asks a bit teasingly as she starts climbing the stairs into the plane. 

"Even temples need rain once in a while," Nikolaus responded, favoring Merci with a sardonic smile.

"Whiskey, straight. Whatever is in stock," Nikolaus called to the hostess.

He walked with the woman over to the stairway leading into the impressive private jet. Stepping aside to make room for her, he motioned up the stairs with an open hand and a slight bow. First and foremost, his father always taught him to respect women and to be chivalrous.

"My lady," Nikolas said as he wanted for Merci to head up the stairs.

Merci ascends the stairs, pausing just inside the doorway to ask the stewardess to bring a couple whiskeys and whatever finger foods were on hand. Taking a seat in the spacious cabin, she secures her seatbelt as the sounds of the aircraft prepping for flight can be heard. 

As Nikolas takes his seat, she crosses her legs and leans back into the expensive leather.

"Have you flown before? Seems as though every time I'm on a plane, I'm bleeding out from a gunshot wound," she says, smirking and shaking her head.