ISRAEL SOUZA. twenty eight.former professional wrestler, now a personal trainer at davies locker.
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RAFAEL SILVA in New York City - December 2022
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“That would definitely be an interesting arm workout,” he said, a chuckle escaping him. Israel took the towel he draped over the front of his machine and wiped off excess sweat, throwing it over his shoulder, before making his way over to the man. He had mostly been teasing the man, but he would help where he could. “It’s actually pretty simple and you’re definitely positioned right, but there’s something I gotta change.” He began to reach for the machine, but pulled his hand back to gauge the man’s comfort level. “It cool if I get up in your personal space, for just a moment?” As bold as Israel was, even he was not going to invade the man's personal space without some definite consent. “And if this is your first time, I’d advise not overdoing it. Most people wanna go as hard as they can starting out, but it’s better to work up to it. Maybe ten to twenty minutes the first time and then build from there.”
it had been a while since kayson had even set foot in the gym. however after his last round with his doctor he had mention that some cardio could do him some good. who was he to disagree with the doctor after all. however as he sat on the bike he wasnt even sure where to start. of course one would think that it would be common knowledge but kay seemed a bit lost. “really? and here i was going to try to push it with my hands.” his words playful as he smiled. “i hate to be a bother but maybe you could tell me how to start this thing up?”
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After the woman spoke up, Israel wondered if he ever had people skills or if all the years he spent on the road had ensured they dwindled down to the nothing they were in that moment. His feet moved faster, as if the sound of the peddaling, the act of it, was enough to erase the moment from his mind completely. When he opened his mouth to speak nothing came out, so he cleared his throat and tried again. "I'm not, no. Just a personal trainer." Who should know better than to assume, especially with what he dealt with the last couple months. "Foi mal... if it was physically possible to put my foot in my mouth right now, I would consider it." He wouldn't, but she didn't need to know that. "I swear, I'm not usually so presumptuous, or dense."
Annoyance flickered through Aysel's psyche at his words and if she had a nickel for every time someone corrected her, she could quite possibly retire. "It's how I was taught in an occupational facility so I could do it safely," she responded. "Are you an occupational therapist?"
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CARLOS REYES’ SANS UNIFORM WARDROBE IN S1
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WHERE: DAVIES LOCKER WHO: OPEN TO ALL
“I hate to be that guy…” Israel severely overstated how much speaking up bothered him. He quite enjoyed pointing out someone else’s mistakes and correcting them. Perhaps being a personal trainer was better suited for him than he cared to admit. “But, I’m one hundred percent sure that is not how you use that machine.” His high horse took the form of an exercise bike, his feet not bothering to stop peddaling as he breathlessly huffed the words from his mouth.
#you're okay to assume connections#or dm me to figure something out#i..... hate writing starters so bare with me lmao#hmbstarter
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he could not be more adorable if he tried
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Perhaps, the man next to him noticed Israel’s hesitancy in continuing to dance when the country song came on at the bar. Is it possible that he noticed the way his feet itched to move along, not exactly knowing how to with such a drastically different genre than he was used to? Regardless, Israel came out to have a good time and that is exactly what he planned on doing.
After carefully watching the man’s cowboy boots click, step and swing, Israel smirked. He repeated the moves shown to him and added in his own little flavor, a spin at the end, before looking back at the man with nothing but confidence. “Not usually my type of music, but that move's easy enough. I take it you’re a fan of,” he trailed off, waving his hand to reference the music that filled the bar. His hands then met behind his back. Israel was curious about the stranger.
Who: open Where: Bar
The affects of the whiskey warm him from the inside out, a more relaxed and charming smile taking the profiler’s lips. He’s better like this, alcohol able to take over and shed his social anxiety like an old skin — a part of him wishes ��it was always like this, that it just made everything so much easier. . . But it’s not time to dwell, not with the pleasant buzz currently in his veins ; no need to tarnish a perfectly good mood. but isn’t that what Dixon Granger does best? "c ‘ mon, like this." the honey drawl is THICK on his tongue, cowboy boot clicking against the hardwood floor of the bar as he steps forward on his right foot, the left swiftly following — while he’s been reluctantly dragged out of his personal sanctuary by the sounds of Luke Combs feeling the speakers, Dixon wouldn’t say he’s having a particularly bad time with his new - found dance partner.
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"Did you just...?" Israel was distracted for maybe a couple of seconds, when he turns back to find the girl next to him drinking his drink. "That's mine and, if it makes you feel any better, I didn't take a sip out of it yet... so, I guess, it's yours now. If you want it." He paused for a moment, before doing his absolute best not to sound too judgemental. "You okay?"
who: open to all, big or small - no cap because I'm feeling bold and i'd like to have some regrets where: dealer's choice. i'm not the dealer, you are when: the other day
"This isn't mine. I can't believe I put it in my mouth, either. Help."
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NAME. israel souza GENDER. cis male. PRONOUNS. he/him. AGE. twenty eight. BIRTHDATE. august 11th. OCCUPATION. personal trainer. NEIGHBORHOOD. montara. FACECLAIM. rafael silva.
Israel had always been one to throw himself directly into danger, mostly just for the thrill of it, but sometimes even to selflessly aid others. This made his family, quite a big one at that, nervous about what he would choose to do with his life when he was older. All evidence pointed to something dangerous and, in time, they were proven right.
Over the years, he threw out the interest in being a football player, a firefighter, a secret agent (after seeing the James Bond films as a child), and a pilot, but the most consistent was always a professional wrestler. After his older brother made the mistake of bringing him to a wrestling show, that was it, he was hooked. It fueled an interest in fitness during his early teenage years.
It was around that time that Israel became very aware of his sexuality, but never went through a coming out process with his family or friends. He was lucky that way, knowing it wouldn’t be a problem for them to accept him and the only battle for him would be to accept himself. That was easily done after his first kiss with a boy.
He was the baby of the family, with four older siblings and two loving parents. He always had someone to cover for him, make an excuse for him, help out with whatever he needed, and more than one person always watching out for him. Family was always incredibly important to him and, if you ask him, it’s their fault that he wound up with a bit of a selfish side. How do you not grow a little entitled with everything’s always handed to you?
In his late teens, Israel became very serious about training to become a professional wrestler. He dropped extracurriculars and let some relationships slip through the cracks because of his commitment. He just kept telling himself it would be worth it when he achieved his dreams. Nobody could tell him otherwise.
He was given such a big headache about college from his parents that Israel actually considered it. He knew there was not a major in the universities they were pleading him to consider to become a wrestler, but caved and majored in exercise science. He figured that, if the unthinkable happened, he would at least be able to become a personal trainer or something… but he didn’t want to think about a reality where that happened.
Just after college, Israel joined a professional wrestling training school where he showed promising potential and met a man who would take him on as a mentor. With his help, Israel gained the attention of a major wrestling organization, after various matches on the indie circuit, and trained with them until they found a place for him in their shows.
A few years later, Israel was on his way to becoming a household name in the wrestling scene. He found the roar of the crowd exhilarating and lived for the rush he felt each time he hit the mat, but found a special sense of accomplishment in the phone calls he would receive from his parents after a show or the times they would visit or he would come home.
He was on top of his game, holding a championship for a prolonged amount of time, when he was injured. Injury is not uncommon for a wrestler, but a neck injury — particularly his — was very serious even for wrestlers. That’s when he was forced into a reality he hoped he would never have to face, a life without wrestling, without purpose.
Moving to Half Moon Bay, just forty five minutes from most of his family, was out of necessity. He needed to be somewhere fresh as he started his new journey, close to his family but far enough that he had space to figure stuff out on his own. For now, that’s led to him taking a job at Davies’ Locker, as a personal trainer.
WANTED CONNECTIONS
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