Just A Flesh Wound

Jovie wiped the blood from her upper lip. She was pretty sure it was hers and not her opponent's but in the rush of adrenaline she didn't feel pain. That would definitely be coming later though.

It was a quick one. She got her bell rung a couple times, then landed a solid kick to the head and following it up with some vicious elbows from the mount position before the referee stopped the fight.

She was getting her hand raised. She was making what would hopefully be just her first payday of the night. Regardless, she was comforted by the fact that she would be able to survive in this world at least a little bit longer.

Jovie hadn't always wanted to fight. She was picked on in school because of her fire red hair and Irish accent, which seemed very out of place to her Lansing, Michigan schoolmates. After around the third time she was beaten up, her father signed her up for martial arts classes. Something about taking control and hitting back made her heart skip a beat. In a good way.

She found her calling.