Matchmaker
The woman sat, absorbed into a book she read as the taxi traveled down the crowded streets of downtown Manhattan. The driver pulled to the curb and coughed, bringing the woman away from her studies.
“We're here,” he announced. Twila looked out the cab's window at the dirty streets and cracked buildings.
“A-are you sure? This hardly seems like the appropriate location for a physical instructor.”
“You said 'Jack's,' right?” he gruffly asked.
“W-well, yes, but—“
He extended a pump finger, tapping it against the glass on the passenger side. Twila followed where he pointed, catching sight of a two-story gray brick building that had seen better days. Directly above the chipped, barred wooden doors was a small neon light. 'Jack's,' it announced, the 'c's' bulb burned out and the rest nervously flickering, like a flame in the midst of a strong breeze.
“Oh,” she said, closing her book and marking her page with a violet bookmark. She ran a hand through her similar-colored hair. “I see.” She reached into her pocket, then handed the man a crisp twenty-piece. “If you wait for a few moments until I wave you off, you can keep the change.”
He looked at the cash, then nodded. “Five minutes.”
She got out of the car, a hot breeze blew her hair over her eyes. Habitually, she used a pale finger to brush it behind her ears once more.
“Maybe I should get a haircut on my bangs sometime,” she said to herself. “Wonder how Spike would react?” She crossed her arms and shut her eyes, lowering her voice slightly to imitate the teenager. “Gosh, Twila, you didn't have to copy the buzz look. You look weird with really short hair.” She narrowed her brow, her voice back to normal. “Yeah. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Spike.”
Twila headed towards the door. A small sign showed its hours of operation. She checked her watch—still plenty of time. The woman glanced at the taxi behind her in reassurance.
“In and out if this is weird. Nothing to it,” she once again said to herself, opening the door and hearing a small bell ring from above it as she stepped inside.
The interior was about as she imagined from the books she had read. Large, with punching bags in the corner, weights. An open mat section Twila guessed was for group stretches. Finally, at the center was the room's crown. A square, roped off ring a few feet up from the ground. Twila approached it, putting a hand to her chin in observation.
It was a worn thing; duck-tape covering cuts on the mat, a few loose springs in the ropes, judging by how easily Twila was able to pull one. A corner was missing a turnbuckle cover, instead coated with more duck-tape and thick bubble wrap. She turned away from it and glanced around the room, surprised nobody was around. She walked deeper inside and noticed three doors. One was open, showing a small restroom, one was marked as 'management,' and the last was unmarked. She approached the 'management' door and knocked, then waited a moment.
No answer. She gave another knock, then checked her watch. With a small 'tsk,' she snapped around and started to walk off just as a door opened behind her.
“Sorry 'bout that, was in the shower,” a woman drawled out in a thick accent.
Twila turned around and paused. Standing before her was a woman rubbing her scalp with a small towel. She stood tall—incredibly tall—in the doorway, towering a head and some inches over Twila, and had the obvious stance of a hard-worked life to her—muscles tensed and stood proud across her entire earthen-toned body. She took the towel and pulled it off her long, blonde hair, then tossed it to the side, rubbing her hands on the track shorts she wore.
“What can I do ya fer?”
“Uh...” Twila trailed off, blinking.
The woman put her hands behind her back and leaned backwards, popping her spine. She looked over Twila's well-pressed slacks and jacket. “If yer here for the Pilates class, I closed that up 'bout an hour or so ago.”
“No,” she responded. “I'm not here for that.”
The woman crossed her arms. “Ah yeah? What ya needin', then?”
“Well... Am I correct to presume you're Jack Apple?”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“I hear you offer self-defense courses.”
Jack gave a shrug. “Well, I do boxin' lessons, if that's what yer meanin'.”
“Precisely.” She offered a hand. “Twila Shields. I'm interested in learning how to fight.”
Jack took the hand. Twila winced slightly at her strong grip. “Well, I reckon ya found yerself a teacher, if ya want.” She rubbed at her nose. “Though ya don't really seem the type, ta be honest.”
She nodded. “Nor do I consider myself the type, Ms. Apple—“
“Jus' Jack'll do, sug.”
“Jack it is, then.” Twila took a few steps away and glanced towards the barred windows. “If I may speak freely: I've recently moved here from Camelot, and... well...”
“Somethin' happen'?” Jack asked, narrowing her brow and clenching a fist.
Twila quickly dismissed that idea with a wave of her hand. “No, no, no. I simply had a scare last night. There was a man who was rather... intense in appearance. He approached me and requested directions.” She tapped the toe of her shoe against the wooden floor. “An innocent enough gesture, yet I was fearful he would do something up until the moment he left. My assistant Spike suggested a self-defense course. After investigating both Muay Thai and Judo, I chose to research boxing.”
“Sounds like ya did yer homework.” Jack put a palm to her chin. “Muay Thai's pretty dang effective, 'specially compared ta Potroian boxin'—I mean, shoot,” she instantly lowered her stance a bit and twisted her body a hair to the side, favoring her left, looking so primed to strike that Twila flinched. Jack didn't even notice the violet-haired woman's discomfort, instead she held her hands just a bit away from her angled face, her fists clenched so tight her knuckles started to color lighter. “Like, yer Muay Thai, ya keep yer body a bit more, uh, centered, kinda. Boxin'...” She adjusted her stance a bit, leaning forward just a hair more. “Kickin' aside, they're pretty close. 'Less yer boxin' like peek-a-boo style or somethin'.”
Twila hummed in thought. “You seem incredibly knowledgeable about this.”
“Ya gotta know yer stuff if yer sellin' a product. 'Least, that's what I was always taught back on the farm.”
“Farm?” Twila repeated. “Gracious, Jack. Manhattan's quite removed from the rural lands, where exactly were you from?”
“Mansfield.”
Twila perked up at the name. “Small world. My mentor wanted to send me there for a study. W-well, before the incident, anyway.”
“Lotta people lost homes.” Jack agreed, letting out a defeated sigh. “Farm was on the outskirts enough that we got away with only a bit of damage from the twister, but still... part of the reason why a few of the gals I know went here with me ta make their stakes. Still, tho', profit from the farm ain't exactly shinin', thanks ta a lot of the trade routes dryin' up an' evrythin'...” Jack pulled at an earlobe. “But I'm sure ya ain't here ta listen ta my sob stories—let's get ya started with some basics.” She glanced over Twila's clothes once more. “Ya do got yerself somethin' aside from skirts an' heels, right?”
“W-well, yes. I wasn't sure if you'd be the ideal coach, however, so I didn't bring them.”
“Heels in a dang gym.” Jack rolled her eyes, brushing her nose with a thumb and letting a derisive sort pass through her. “Yer like my best friend. Not a lick-a common sense when it comes ta this kinda thing.” She nodded towards the woman. “Take the shoes off. We're jus' gonna go ahead an' hit the basics tonight.”
“I don't have enough money on me to pay for a lesson.”
“Free of charge, sug. I ain't gonna make ya pay fer this.”
“If you insist,” Twila conceded, bending down and pulling off her shoes.
“Now...” Jack began, “Show me a fightin' stance.”
The woman paused, then stared straight ahead, tilting her palms towards her face and holding out her knuckles towards Jack.
“Huh,” the boxer muttered, moving towards Twila. “Kinda an old-school bare-knuckle stance—ya jus' do that yerself, or that another thing ya studied?”
“Well, it just feels a bit more comfortable. Thought it was a more natural stance.”
Jack seemed to think for a moment, frowning in thought. “Yer close, jus'...” She moved over to the woman, getting directly behind her and wrapping her arms around Twila's.
“What are you—?” Twila began, her cheeks rosy in embarrassment. Jack moved Twila's rigid body easily, without even a moment's pause at the woman's resisting muscles.
“Turn yer body jus' a bit. 'Specially yer head. Lookin' right ahead at someone's liable ta get yer nose broken.” Jack gave a chuckle. “Believe me, I know. I ain't got a bit of a kink in mine jus' ta have a fashion statement, ya hear?” She pushed a leg into Twila's thigh, adjusting her a bit to the side, then grabbed her fists before pausing. “Uh, right?”
“Right?” the woman repeated, blinking.
“Hand.”
“Oh, uh, yes,” she agreed.
“Figured so. I'm a southpaw, but ya teach enough people right-handed stance an' it comes second nature.” Once she had adjusted Twila's hands a bit, she stepped back in front of her and held out her palms towards the woman. “Take a swing at my hand.”
Twila reared her fist back and struck; Jack didn't even flinch, instead seeming to make mental notes on everything the woman did.
“Well, fer starters, yer swing's slow—we gotta improve that.” She rubbed at her mouth. “Yer stance after a swing's weak too—yer overextendin' yer blow, yer footin's off—which won't kill ya in boxin', but if yer ever in a no-holds barred fight, yer gonna get tripped an' pounded.”
“Oh, my.” Twila grimaced.
“Don't worry, sug. I'mma get ya fixed up when it's all said an' done.” Jack ran a thumb across her nose. “Now let's get ta business.”
000
It was a good hour later when Jack finally called it quits for the two. She glanced over at the panting Twila and weakly smiled. “Gets the blood goin', don't it?”
“I think I'm going to be sick,” she said, leaning over with her hands on her knees.
Jack laughed, a smile overtaking her cheeks. “First day's always the hardest. Or maybe the second, since yer still sore from the first—anyway, it gets easier.”
“If you say so.” She rose, running a hand over her brow and through her hair. “I need a shower.”
“Ya can use mine,” Jack offered, cocking a thumb towards one of the doors in back.
“That's quite alright—I'll simply head home and take one.”
Jack nodded. “Ya got enough money fer a cab?”
Twila nodded. “Of course I...” Reaching into a pocket, she didn't feel the reassuring weight of her wallet. Did I leave it in the cab? “I... might not,” she admitted, blanching.
Jack turned around, heading to the stairwell. “Sit tight, I'll walk ya home.”
“But—“ Twila started, as Jack jogged quickly up the stairs. She sighed, leaning against the ring and touching her wrist, checking her pulse rate. Her heart was finally starting to get under control. She relaxed her arms with a groan. Every part of her tomorrow was going to be sore. Jack had worked out muscles Twila didn't even know she had. But at least she was learning something doing this.
The blonde woman came tromping down the stairs in jeans, a buttoned-up denim jacket and a stetson atop her head. “Sorry 'bout that,” she said, moving towards the woman. “Wanted somethin' a bit less revealin' ta walk the streets in.”
“I understand,” Twila replied, moving over and putting on her heels. She took a step and stumbled; Jack caught her in the nick of time, putting a hand around her stomach.
“Woah there, pardner,” she exclaimed. “Almost took yerself a spill.”
“S-sorry,” Twila stammered, holding onto Jack as she righted herself. “My legs are like jelly.”
“Well, keep holdin' onta my arm if ya gotta.” Jack then scratched at a cheek. “Hope ya ain't stayin' too far from here.”
“About three blocks from here, at Golden Oaks.”
“Not a bad place,” she admitted.
“It... has its charms,” Twila hesitantly replied.
They hit the doors, Jack doing a quick turn around to lock them before escorting the timid-looking Twila onward. She vaguely hid behind the giant of a woman, glancing around every building corner.
“Should I ask?” Jack muttered, looking over at the woman.
“I'm a bit wary about this segment of Manhattan,” she explained. “I mean, crime's pretty rampant downtown, after all.”
“A block can make all the difference, sug,” Jack agreed, nodding at a man passing by them. “But don't ya worry. No matter how rough lookin' 'round here seems, it's a good neighborhood with good people livin' in it.” She smiled a bit, gesturing towards a building they passed by. “Heck, 'coupla my friends live 'round here, even. I'll have ta introduce ya to 'em sometime.” She scratched at her cheek. “They're, uh, quite the characters.”
They walked in silence for a few moments, passing a street and up another block. A few men called out a greeting to Jack; she replied with an easy 'howdy.'
“You know quite a few men around here it seems like,” Twila stated.
“Kinda of a friend of a friend deal.” They paused at the end of another block. A blinking 'don't walk' sign flashed against the black night. “That, an' a few people look up ta me fer some reason.”
“Why?” she asked, then paused. “N-not to say you don't deserve it or anything...”
“Well, they respect me fer boxin', fer one.” She tilted her hat back. “An' I've done my fair share of tryin' ta help 'round the community. Growin' up on a farm taught me that we're all in this together, ya know?” Jack then sighed, rubbing at the back of her neck. “That, an' maybe they feel a bit sorry fer me too.”
“Why would they feel sorry for you?” Twila asked, then noticed the light had finally changed to 'walk.' They quickly crossed as Jack shook her head.
“Ain't nothin' really worth repeatin'. Honest.” The blonde bit at her lip and glanced away. Twila had seen some bad liars in her time, but this woman had to take the cake. “So,” Jack quickly continued, coughing into her free hand. “What's a Camelot gal like you doin' 'round these parts, anyway?” She wryly smiled. “Ain't it a bit less, uh, 'glamorous?'”
“Perhaps.” Twila mused, “But my mentor suggested I travel here in order to learn about society.”
“You'll learn all kinds-a things here, that is true.” She glanced up at the sky. “Still, though, bet the 'plane ticket from Camelot ta here musta hurt the wallet.”
“No, not really,” Twila replied with a shake of her head as they crossed over another street. “Princess Celestia paid for my expenses.”
“Ha!” Jack snorted out. “That's rich. An' I got an autographed centerfold of Princess Cadence.”
“I'm not sure my brother would appreciate that.”
Jack's grin threatened to take over her entire face. She glanced at Twila and paused, it quickly vanishing. “Y-yer jokin', right?”
“Of course not!” Twila replied, aghast. “My brother would never let Candance do something like that!”
“N-no... I'm meanin' 'bout Celestia payin' fer yer flight.” Jack shook her head in shock. “Is she yer mentor?”
“Celestia?”
“Who in the heck else?”
Twila blinked. “W-well, yes, she is.”
“The Princess Celestia? Joint ruler of Potroiea?”
“Is there another Celestia I don't know about?”
Jack adjusted her hat. “I don't reckon so... jus', woah doggie. Didn't know I was rubbin' elbows with nobility here.”
She gave a self-conscious shake of her head. “Less nobility, more adviser. Well, my father, anyway.”
The blonde gave a grunt of acknowledgment at Twila's words, then pointed just a bit ahead of them, at tall apartment building. At the front was a sign with a tree. 'Golden Oaks,' it read in peeling off-white paint.
“Looks like yer place.”
“Guess so,” Twila agreed.
“Ya wanna let go of my arm now?” Jack asked with a laugh.
“O-oh,” the woman muttered, looking down at the boxer's strong, rock-hard bicep, and her own arm wrapped tight around it. She let go, blushing. “Sorry, Jack.”
“Ain't nothin',” she drawled out with a wink, then turned, raising her hand in a small wave. “Have yerself a nice night, Twi.”
“Y-you too...” Twila took a few shaky steps towards the front, then pressed down on a small button below the intercom.
“Yeah?” the voice of her assistant, Spike, gruffly asked.
“Open the door—I'll be up to the room shortly.”
“Alright, alright,” he grumbled. Twila heard a click from the door, then Spike asked, “How'd it go?”
Twila glanced behind her at the vanishing figure of Jack. She gave a slow, considering nod. “You know, I think it ended up great.”
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Yes! It's finally out!
Wasn't Rocky more about his relationship with Adrian rather than his fight? Here's hoping for a Rarity/Adrian appearance but that's probably too much like The Laughing Shadow and just wishful thinking anyway.
I am intrigued.
3300392
Agreed. The original Rocky was completely different in tone and message than the subsequent films. Hope this story doesn't turn out like Million Dollar Baby.
It looks great so far. Just one little note... your Twi kinda gets over-formal in some spots and starts drifting into Rarity territory in dialogue (unless that's a part of the setting difference.)
But I can't wait for the next chapter!
3300377
Hooray!
3300388
Welcome to the good guy team, Jake. Humanized is an alright thing here, yo.
3300392
That it was. Likewise, this is going to be a character-driven piece, with the match being the McGuffin like it is in Rocky.
3300501
True. Though Rocky Balboa did a fantastic job bringing the spirit of the first one back--that kinda gritty real underdog story. If you've never seen it, I highly recommend it.
I'll keep that in mind for sure. Thanks.
3300519
Thank you kindly for the critique, Book. I'll keep that in mind--I tried to have her sort of nerd and intelligent persona shine forth, but I guess I've been writing way too much damn Rarity and it's spilling out on everything.
Not a fan of Twijack... But... since it's you... I shall read.
3300519
I actually did mention that he was playing her pretty tight, but figured since we've only just taken our first step into the 'verse and everyone is strangers (including, to an extent, we readers to the characters), that we could shrug it off for a bit. As I like Twilight/Twila, and write her in the Heistverse, I'll keep an eye on this.
Well, am I sucker for anything boxing related...
Another AU...with the same human characters from your other epic (Laughing Shadow)?
Not much of Twijack fan...but I wasn't a Rarijack fan and you made me love that so I shall read!
Haven't read yet, already liked and fav'd. You see, Merc? This is the impact you, JJ and PC have on this community. I haven't read your story yet and I've already fav'd. I saw you posted it and my first thought was, "Oh, look! Another box-office hit!".
I will read, count on that. There's no way it can't be good.
But I have so much miscellaneous shit to catch up on...
Better bump this to the top of the list, just to be safe.
Another series for me to obsessively check for updates? Damn it Merc!
3302619
Me too.
3301655
Thanks. I'm not the biggest fan of her either, but I'm hoping writing this'll give me a bit more respect for her.
3302688
I'm glad you're still liking The Laughing Shadow, pal. Yeah, maybe I can make you a believer in this ship too! (Though RariJack will always be top drawer)
3302706
I don't think it's so much the community as it is you. I'm sure not featured, after all, haha. But I appreciate your words regardless.
3302877
3303478
I don't know, man. From what I've seen, your fans seem to love you. I'd say you've made quite the splash.
Actually got around to reading it now and I have to say, Merc, I'm really liking where you're taking this right from the get-go. Character interaction is good, Jack's accent isn't overplayed, making Twila timid in this one is a nice touch. Looks like my previous assessment of the story is right: I'm gonna want to come back for more.
Haven't seen the Rocky movies (don't shoot me yet) as I haven't had the chance to see them, but this fic will probably end up changing that.
Awasome like all your work bro
Hmm... You have interested me.
You may continue.
3302706
You're good people, my friend.
3302877
Heh, yeah, he's good at that.
off to a good start so far.
Cant wait to see how things go from here
This should be interesting. I wonder who AJ's gonna fight.
I have got to admit, I am not the biggest fan of the humanized stories because most of them are either second person crap or the main character is someone I am not all that interested, not too mention the stories aren't that appealing. But this one actually drew my attention. Good job.
3307925
Thanks. All my other works I try to show that humanized fics don't have to be 2nd person crap or a wish-fulfillment self-insert, so I honestly appreciate you giving it a chance.
You never described what she was wearing besides shorts, and I kept waiting for the joke about, "Aren't you going to put something else on?"
Yet one more fantastic piece of work for me to follow. Always did like AJ, and I can already tell I'll like her here as well.
Wow, it took me way too long to get around to reading this,
Good stuff man; keep it coming! I'm right there with you on proving that humanized comes in more flavors than vanilla self-insert or 2nd person chocolate, and this story looks like it's gonna be a nice bowl of sweet slice-of-strawberry romance,
3311163
I was wondering the same thing! I re-read the section a couple times trying to figure out where I'd missed something, but in the end I just sort of decided that she was wearing a tank top, or at least a sports bra,