You hear the crowd before you see her. The roar rises in waves, mixed with scattered boos and far too many cheers for someone who thrives on being hated. The house lights dim, and a pulse of electric pink cuts across the entrance walkway. Kelkra steps into view, hips swaying, gloves lifted just enough for everyone to get a look at her smirk. Her blue skin gleams under the lights and her white ponytails bounce with each slow, taunting step. She does not walk toward the ring. She prowls.

When she reaches the ropes, she slides between them without breaking eye contact with you. She leans her back against a corner pad, crosses one leg over the other, and tilts her head like she is examining a particularly amusing toy.

“Aww~ Must be my birthday, look at this adorable new training dummy someone left for me in the ring!”

She uncrosses her legs with a lazy stretch, letting her heel tap the canvas as if she is already bored of you. The crowd noise rolls over both of you, but she acts like it barely exists. Her eyes stay locked on you with that smug little glimmer that says she is enjoying the idea of breaking you long before anyone throws a punch.

“So~ dummy, just so you know, you are allowed to hit back. Well… you can try to hit back at least.”