After the fight, when some healing magic has been worked, Sasha is in the changing rooms putting on something a little bit more appropriate for their day to day life, though still with the colours and look of someone who is probably a fighter including a pretty dramatic looking cape.
Despite the best efforts of the Vents' healers, Skia still holds her side as she enters the changing area. Where before she was slick with sweat, the sheen on her body and the towel around her neck show that she managed to get in a quick shower after the bout. "Good job, you furred freak," she spits in Sasha's direction with a glare. "They say you can have a room now." It might seem strange; this announcement coming from Skia and not a more authoritative figure. However, it's general knowledge to the fighters that the guild makes consensus-based decisions. "So fuck you." There's a pause while the magi sits down and starts unbuckling the rest of her outfit, wet from the shower. "Also Borraco really liked your performance." This is reluctantly shared.
"Don't call me that," says Sasha, their expression turning to a scowl at being called a freak. "Thanks for telling me I got a room now. Nice to be recognized like that..." They brush their fur back with their hand, "I've been trying to make an impact for awhile. This..." they gesture just generally about, "is what I want to do, but not everyone's got what it takes."
“You /are/ a freak, though,” Skia remarks with a cruel smirk as she continues to take apart her garb. “Thousands of years of recorded history and your type only start showing up in the last hundred. The hubris of humanity.” She emphasizes her thoughts with a mocking shake of her head. “Humans aren't supposed to have claws or fur. But if you want to fight then you're welcome here.”
"'Hubris of humanity', don't make me laugh," says Sasha hotly, shaking their head. "You'd think Magi would know a thing or two about hubris. I didn't seek this shit out or anything, it's just part of me. And it's something that makes shit pretty difficult. Fighting's what I got left." They cross their arms tightly across their chest, their cape falling over their shoulders to cover them a bit more before they observe. "I've seen you fight plenty before, you're a real contender. I really admire your style and I wanted to prove myself today. But as a person you're kind of a dickhead."
"As a person, I've learned not to be nice to people I don't trust. You be nice to people and they think you owe them something. Your weapon /is/ your body. You didn't have to train or do any hard work to get those claws or that tail. You talk as if you know who I am and you don't. You don't know a thing about me. Fighting is my life." Skia makes this comment as she wriggles into a garment of softer fabric - it looks to be a sleeveless tunic.
"Nah, I don't gotta know who you are to know that you were an asshole to me when I asked for basic fucking courtesy," says Sasha, scowling a bit. "'cause you don't know me either. I had to work hard to be able to fight like I do, I train constantly. I never assumed you had it easy, so why the fuck are you going and assuming that I did?"
"Never said you didn’t train your weapon, but most of us train our bodies anyways,” Skia shrugs at the wilder. “What are you? Thirteen? No, can't be. They don't let people in that young. Fifteen then." The magi swaps her tight shorts for something again softer. "Don't expect basic courtesy. Don't expect anything from anyone. You're an excellent fighter, but you’re naive as all shit. I’ve been here a few years and I’ve seen tougher venters than you not make it in this world.”
"And you were born with the ability to do magic. My claws are like that. My strength and speed's like that. Just potential, but it's gotta be honed by training," says Sasha, their hands planted on their hips. "And as for basic courtesy, being a dickhead never made anyone hit any harder. And asking for it's not gonna make me a worse venter. So saying, 'don't call me a freak' doesn't seem all that naive."
Skia's laugh is an even mixture of amusement and disbelief. "That's where you're wrong, Sasha. That’s the most naive thing you can say. You are a freak." The magi finishes dressing with a pair of thick stockings that appear to be a cross between tights and shoes with soles on the bottom. "I'm 'sorry' if I offended your sensitivities. People are going to call you whatever shit they want and there aren't many like you. So that makes you a freak." Reaching into her cupboard, the fighter pulls out a wand. She turns it about in her hand and inspects it. Scratching at the wood, Skia says, "But since you're fighting me both in the arena and out ..." The wand goes into a hidden pocket on the tunic. "That means you have a reason to fight. Good thing, too, because we already cleared that room for you before the match.”
Sasha shakes their head, "Nah, I'm not saying I'm not a freak. I'm saying not to call me a freak." They hook their thumb over their belt and scowl a moment at that, "'cause it's not like I fucking need reminders. I probably even got a mirror in my room." They actually cup their other hand under their chin thoughtfully at that, considering that benefit. They pick up their bag with their equipment.
"They liked you out there," says Skia as she stands up, jerking her head towards the arena. "We gave them a good show." She bends at the knees, gathering her discarded outfit to wrap it in the towel. One hand holds gentle pressure on her healing wounds. "Doesn't mean I'm not mad that you won. Underestimated you. Thought you'd be easy. Another freak getting undue attention. Maybe worth getting used to you since your sticking around. But you still have a ways to go.”
"Underestimating me'll be a mistake. I knew that you'd be tough to fight. One slip, and I would've been done, I know you're a true talent," says Sasha, pausing in their movement towards the exit. "You're still out of my reach. But I'm gonna keep getting stronger. Faster. Better. You ain't seen nothing yet." The raise their hand, pointing directly upwards without looking back as they leave towards their new room.