Post by Ampersand on Feb 11, 2022 7:06:54 GMT
As a voice and guitar break the silence of the Colosseum, though the dark remains.
Well, you made me weep and you made me moan
When you caused me to leave, child, my happy home
But someday, baby, you ain't worry my life no more
When you caused me to leave, child, my happy home
But someday, baby, you ain't worry my life no more
The big screen comes to life as the rest of the band joins the vocals, showing Thorne on the screen with Ivy, the pair standing in the waning light of the early February evening, seeming to discuss tactics. Someone bumps into Thorne as they walk by, the newcomer and her sister looking up to see Annie Logan walking past them toward the Colosseum. She spares a glance over one shoulder, eyes and smile glittering like a knife’s edge in the gathering gloom. Thorne only grins in return. Following Logan into the Colosseum, we see Viola Williams and Silvio Leon standing in the hallway together. Viola is looking stoic, trouble in her furrowed brow as Silvio appears to be giving her a pep talk. He looks for a fist bump, grinning, which she rolls her eyes at for a moment before smiling and giving him a bump. A bit further down the hallway, we can spy Mara Lang watching at a distance, a faint, knowing smile on her face. Wearing her lab coat, she scoops a little mouse out of one of its pockets, her smile taking on a malicious curl as she pets it between the ears.
I get satisfaction everywhere I go
Where I lay my head, that's where I call home
Whether barren pines, or the mission stare
Take tomorrow's collar and give 'em back the glare
Where I lay my head, that's where I call home
Whether barren pines, or the mission stare
Take tomorrow's collar and give 'em back the glare
Sebastian Hawke is seen standing atop one of the flights of stairs that runs between the rows of seats in the Colosseum, Emerald City title draped over one shoulder. He’s watching as SKUP9 runs the ropes, practicing before his opportunity at Ascended gold. Dominant, determined, and ready, he will not be denied this time. The faintest worry creases Hawke’s brow, but before it can settle in, he gets a notification from his phone. Taking it out and looking at the text messages, he smiles fondly as, “YOU GOT THIS, SUPERHAWK!” from ‘Frankie-stein’ pops up on the screen. Back out in the hallways, Roy Valentine is debriefing with his assistant, Anastasia Keller, who is ticking off points on her clipboard. Valentine himself has a smug expression on his face, seeming hardly to listen to Keller. As far as he’s concerned, at this point it’s all over but the crying. Yet as he passes by a nearby alcove, he doesn’t notice his opponent for the evening standing there bathed in shadow. Scowling, we watch as Kyle Beckett pulls the final petal from a red rose clutched in his hand.
Bang, bang, bang, bang!
Vámonos, vámonos!
Bang, bang, bang!
Vámonos, vámonos!
Vámonos, vámonos!
Bang, bang, bang!
Vámonos, vámonos!
Panning back to the Colosseum, a few signs stand out among the throng.
ROY VALENTINE RHINOPLASTY FUND!
THESE VIOLENT DELIGHTS WILL HAVE VIOLA-ENT ENDS!
SKUP9 IS THE HERO THE EMERALD CITY DESERVES!
THESE VIOLENT DELIGHTS WILL HAVE VIOLA-ENT ENDS!
SKUP9 IS THE HERO THE EMERALD CITY DESERVES!
The camera moves to the commentator’s table where Del Ramos, Hiro Suzuki, and Artemis Direction are seated. Del is dressed in a ragged black sweatshirt patterned with red broken hearts. Artemis is wearing a velvety maroon dress that hugs her curves and matches the heart-shaped barrettes she’s using to clip back her straw-blonde locks. Hiro is in a poppy red suit and baby pink bow tie.
Hiro Suzuki: Welcome to the latest edition of Collision, Ascended Army! I’m Hiro Suzuki joined this evening by Del Ramos–
Del Ramos: I can’t decide if your get-up is going to give me cavities or an aneurysm, Suzuki.
Hiro Suzuki: What’s important is that it makes an impression! Also joining us on commentary is Artemis Direction!
Artemis Direction: Oh, come now, Del! Hiro is only getting into the spirit of the upcoming holiday!
Del Ramos: The bloodiest holiday of all...
They grin wickedly.
Del Ramos: Valentine’s Day. There’s nothing more brutal than watching all of your friends and loved ones receive gifts and cards while you get the blackest gift of all… N O T H I N G. Also, it’s metal as fuck that the thing we associate with this holiday is a bloody, pulsing, organ.
Artemis Direction: Well, if you’re looking for blood, darling, I don’t think this evening’s show is going to disappoint!
Hiro Suzuki: That’s right! Ascended Army, we have an action-packed card tonight! Kicking things off we have Annie Logan versus Thorne! These two have made quite the impression with their explosive styles!
Artemis Direction: Do you mean their in-ring abilities or their aesthetic, dearest?
Hiro Suzuki: Yes!
Del Ramos: Said it before and I’ll say it again - we need more bitches like this on the roster. I wanna be neck deep in powerful women kicking ass and taking names.
Artemis Direction: You and me both, darling! On and off the job, ideally. Really, what else could anyone ask for in life?
Del Ramos: After that we got one that’s really gonna scratch the ‘ol ultra-violent itch.
They chuckle malevolently.
Del Ramos: We get to see Lang and Williams in a fight with a helluva stipulation.
Hiro makes a face.
Hiro Suzuki: Mara gets to play by Underworld rules, but Viola has to work under standard ones. That means Lang can use weapons and dirty tactics, but Williams has to walk the straight and narrow.
Del Ramos: Ooohhh it’s gonna be a bloodbath and I am here for it.
Artemis Direction: After that, we may find ourselves crowning a new Emerald City Champion!
Hiro Suzuki: Hawke has shown a lot of heart as our champ. He took the title off Roy and while his defense against him later was the first time-out at Ascended, I don’t think anyone can argue that Hawke had nothing to be ashamed of walking away from that match. He had Valentine locked into the SNAP!, and if that fight had gone on any longer, Roy wouldn’t have had any other choice but to tap out!
Del Ramos: They took each other to the limit, that’s for sure. But The Eliminator has shown us consistently that he lives up to that deliciously vicious nickname.
Artemis Direction: He’s one of the most dominant forces on the roster, and he’s come close to being the face of the company already. With what he’s learned since he’s arrived at Ascended, SKUP may be able to course correct enough to make it happen this time around.
Hiro Suzuki: Which brings us to our main event - Beckett vs. Valentine!
Del Ramos: Beckett’s got some spine challenging Roy right there on live TV. Fucking great shit to drop on him after Williams got him right on the button.
Hiro Suzuki: I guess you could say Beckett nose how to make an impression!
Del Ramos: Sweet Satan’s hooves…
Hiro Suzuki: He saw an opportunity and didn’t want to let it run!
Del Ramos: KIM IF YOU DON’T GET THE FUCKING MATCH STARTED I’M GOING TO USE THE RING AS A PLATFORM FOR AN UNHOLY RITE WRITTEN IN SUZUKI’S BLOOD! IF YOU THINK AFSAH WON’T LET THAT HAPPEN, FUCKING THINK AGAIN!
Kevin Kim: The following match is scheduled for one fall with a twenty minute time limit. Introducing first! Accompanied by Ivy Thistledown, hailing from Astoria, South Dakota, weighing 130 pounds: She. Is. THORNE!
The wild and unmistakable guitar riff of Joan Jett’s “Bad Reputation” thunders through the arena and Tessa Thorne flies out of the entry tunnel onto the stage. Her energy is contagious—she bounces from foot to foot, waving to the fans, riffing air guitar, apparently hungry to get to the action. When her manager Ivy Thistledown finally catches up to her, they bump fists, both exploding their hands backwards, and Thorne rushes down the ramp, clapping hands with as much of the screaming audience as she can in a complete circuit around the ring. After she hops up to the apron and rolls under the ropes, Thorne paces in her corner with a wry smile, eyes pinned to the stage.
Del Ramos: That’s what I like to fuckin’ see! This chick is starving and we’re about to see her tear into a meat feast.
Kevin Kim: And her opponent!
Jinjer's "Just Another" blasts onto the PA, accompanied by strobe lights that pulsate to the beat of the intro.
Just another bruise earned
One more lesson learned
Just another kick from behind
Just another punch in the eye
Another broken tooth
Against the bitter truth
Over and over again
I say: "No pain, no gain"
Kevin Kim: From Boston, Massachusetts, weighing in at 143 pounds, ANNIE LOGAN!
Artemis Direction: I don’t think Thorne’s the only one who brought her appetite, Del darling.
Just as the first verse kicks in, Annie Logan tears through the curtain. She ricochets from one side of the stage to the other while making a point to stop and will the crowd to get into the upcoming match - and behind her - with inaudible calls to action mixed with physical signaling and a handful of horns being thrown up. After a few back-and-forths, Annie takes to the ramp with her attention locked on the ring.
Once at ringside, Annie slides herself under the bottom rope facing the ramp, hops to her feet, then heads to the ropes closest to the camera, then gets her feet on the second rope and uses the top rope to brace her. Again, she yells out a few words to the audience that go missing to the fans at home under the music. She eventually hops down and takes to a corner while the "Just Another" is cut.
DING DING!
Before their jackets are off, Annie and Thorne meet mid-ring for a staredown. Annie gently tugs at one of Thorne’s pins and nods, wearing an expression that reads ‘not bad’. Thorne, in turn, taps her finger on one of Annie’s metal spikes, acting mock-impressed. They share an intense glare.
Artemis Direction: Oooh the ladies bringing a touch of the ballroom to this blitz! Read each other for filth, hunties!
Both fighters burst into laughter. Thorne offers Annie a fist, Annie bumps it, and the two throw their jackets at their corners and finally lock up.
The advantage goes to Annie at first. Their massive height difference is on full display with every inch of ground Annie wrests from Thorne. Suddenly Thorne drops and slides between Annie’s legs, trying to pull the larger woman into a pin! She’s looking to end the match early! But Annie, while surprised, isn’t —she snorts and raises a boot over Thorne’s shoulder. Thorne barely pushes herself away, and Annie’s boot slams onto the mat!
Artemis Direction: Close call for Thorne!
Hiro Suzuki: That certainly could have gotten prickly!
Del Ramos: I wonder if Valentine would feed you to a giant pitcher plant if he knew you were using plant puns for someone else.
Thorne hops to her feet; Annie twists to meet her. They circle back to center mat, Thorne light on her feet, Annie watching, calculating. Thorne steps up for a thrust kick—Annie catches her foot. But it’s a feint! Thorne leaps from the mat, aiming for an enzuigiri! Annie throws Thorne’s foot into the air and ducks under! Her momentum interrupted, Thorne plants a hand on the mat to transition her center of gravity, spinning to land on one knee. But Thorne’s acrobatics have given Annie enough time to charge towards her with a bicycle knee strike—that Thorne swings away from by a hair’s breadth, rising to her feet!
Artemis Direction: Oh my stars and garters!
Hiro Suzuki: Thorne showing off some impressive reflexes!
Del Ramos: True, but if she doesn’t hit as well as she dodges, it’s not going to win her this fight.
Annie’s boots slam onto the canvas and she swings a backhand lariat at her opponent. Again, Thorne flows underneath—only for Annie to finally wrap her other arm around Thorne’s neck! Instead of struggling to escape, though, Thorne brings her arm up around Annie’s neck! Both plant their hands on the other’s trunks! It’s a suplex standoff!
Hiro Suzuki: Reminds me of how much weight training changed my life. You know I dropped 25 pounds?
Artemis Direction: Really, sweetness?
Hiro Suzuki: Yeah, right on my right big toe! I couldn’t walk for a week!
Annie pulls Thorne up, only for Thorne to plant her feet and power through. Thorne tries the same, and Annie responds in kind. Back and forth they trade interrupted throws, attempting to soften one another up with a knee strike to the head, a stiff elbow across the shoulders and neck. Their shoulders and backs swell with labored breaths as the exertion begins to take its toll.
Artemis Direction: These two are taking each other to their limits!
Suddenly, both squat in sync. Though flushed from the struggle, Thorne has the lower center of gravity, and in a final burst of desperate strength, Thorne raises Annie’s feet off the mat!
Del Ramos: THAT’S IT! DIG DEEP! DRINK THE BLOOD OF YOUR ENEMIES AND CLAIM VICTORY YOU TINY TITAN!
But it’s all she has! Completely exhausted, Thorne lets Annie drop—and Annie immediately hits the snap suplex! She’s up in a flash, shaking her fists with a victory cry! The crowd pops!
Artemis Direction: This could be it!
As Thorne rolls to her knees, Annie risks a quick glance backward, then rushes the ropes. Thorne has barely risen when Annie plants her back to the mat with One to the Head! Annie drops for the pin!
ONE!
TW–
Thorne pushes out!
Hiro Suzuki: Thorne showing her tenacity!
Annie chews on the inside of her cheek, nodding. She gathers Thorne upright and hits her shorter opponent with an irish whip into the ropes. When Thorne returns, Annie hoists her up, prepping a powerbomb—but Thorne pushes herself over Annie’s shoulders and hits Annie square in the jaw with a forearm strike as they both spin to follow up! Thorne transitions into a snapmare and a leg drop across Annie’s shoulders, followed by a fujiwara armbar across her right arm!
The commentary team lets out a collective cry of sympathetic pain!
Annie’s face contorts in pain, Thorne has the armbar locked in deep, but ever since the suplex standoff, it’s clear she hasn’t been operating with a full tank. Inch by agonizing inch, Annie drags both herself and Thorne to the ropes, reaches out—and grabs hold! With a frustrated sigh, Thorne lets her go!
Del Ramos: Looks like Thorne’s not the only tenacious dog in this fight. MAKE HER SUFFER, LOGAN!
Thorne is on her feet first. She rebounds against the far ropes and comes charging at Annie, who ducks into a low bridge and elevates Thorne out to the apron, then whips a sharp elbow parallel to the top rope! Thorne swings her entire body backward, both hands around the ropes, then pulls herself up and hits Annie with a headbutt! Annie’s neck snaps back… then, without looking, she clasps Thorne by the ears and returns the favor! Annie’s forehead hits Thorne’s nose dead-center with a loud clap!
Del cackles with delight.
Del Ramos: CERTIFIED BRAIN DAMAGE DEALERS IN THE RING TONIGHT!
A dazed Thorne staggers toward the turnbuckle. Annie, hunched over, puts some distance between her and the reeling woman, eyes remaining forward. After a short pause, she charges at Thorne and hits the discus big boot! Thorne tumbles from the apron! Annie wastes no time—she slips through the ropes! The crowd roars when Annie Logan takes to the sky, moonsaulting towards Thorne!
Hiro Suzuki: If this hits, I don’t think Thorne’s getting up again!
But nobody’s home! Annie is forced to adjust mid-moonsault to land on her feet, and she stumbles to the barricade, only to be hit by a wicked superkick and fall on her knee! Thorne backs up and kneels down—she pumps an open-palmed hand toward the ceiling, pointing vaguely at Annie, bouncing with stored energy. The taller woman shakes her head out and turns to face Thorne again, and this time suffers the Fall from Zenith!
Artemis Direction: Is anything going to keep either of these fighters down?
Del Ramos: I fukken hope not. I could watch this shit all night.
Thorne rolls Annie into the ring by the scruff of her neck and goes for the pin!
ONE!
TW–
Annie twists out!
Thorne takes a moment to lean back. Laughing, she claps Annie’s shoulders, then rolls over to pull her opponent up… when she sees referee Jill Kincaid signal the approaching time limit!
Artemis Direction: Our fighters better hustle if one of them wants to taste victory tonight!
TEN!
Panic flashes across Thorne’s face. She gathers up Annie—only to be rolled into an inside cradle!
NINE!
ONE!
TWO!
TH–
Thorne rolls backward! Annie stumbles to her feet and charges!
EIGHT!
A desperate running knee strike clocks Thorne in the jaw! Annie grabs Thorne to drag her to the middle of the ring, but Thorne’s hand is already around the ropes!
SEVEN!
Growling in frustration, Annie drives her boot repeatedly into Thorne’s shoulder! Jill is at her side with a countdown that goes unheard over the chanting crowd!
SIX!
Thorne releases the rope before Jill can count out Annie’s disqualification, but the ref still warns Annie off of any further aggression! She’s forced to give Thorne a moment to collect herself!
FIVE!
Annie tries for another running knee! This time Thorne dodges, then pulls Annie down into a russian leg sweep!
FOUR!
Thorne crawls over for the pin!
THREE!
ONE!
TWO!
Annie reverses!
ONE!
TWO!
Thorne kicks out!
TWO!
Both fighters swing to their feet! Their eyes lock!
ONE!
THEY CHARGE!
DING DING DING!
Kevin Kim: Ascended Army, as this match has progressed past the appointed time limit, we have a DRAW!
Annie and Thorne screech to a halt mere inches apart! Both lean forward on their knees, heaving exhausted breaths. Thorne shoots Annie a smile; Annie claps Thorne’s shoulder, straightens herself out, and, with the slightest sway in her step, walks out of the ring.
Hiro Suzuki: What a match!
Artemis Direction: And what chemistry! What synchronicity!
Del Ramos: What violence! Shit, if these two can tear it up when they’re in the ring across from each other like this, I wanna see what they can do if they join forces.
Artemis Direction: Speaking of, it sounds like one of our erstwhile tag teams may be having some words in the back! Let’s get the cameras ready to see what’s going on between Kyle Beckett and Viola Williams!
Viola Williams spots Kyle as he makes his way down the hall and jogs to catch up.
Viola Williams: Hey.
Kyle grunts his reply, and Viola sighs.
Viola Williams: Listen, if you don’t want shit to do with me that’s fine, I don’t give a fuck. And if you want to face Lord Fuckwad on your own tonight, that’s fine too. But if you do want someone in your corner—and Mara doesn’t fucking dismember me first—I’ll be there.
Kyle Beckett: You can do what you want. That's what you've been doing, or not, anyway. And as you said 'you don't give a fuck.'
Viola Williams: Right. That shit-ticket is spiteful as fuck so I just…thought I’d offer, but whatever.
But rather than leaving him to it, Viola keeps pace with Kyle and glances nervously down the hall, clearly still bothered.
Viola Williams: Have you seen Davie, like, at all, since the last Collision? Has he been by the apartment, or…?
The Boy from Aus turns to face Viola, his confused expression clear and plain.
Kyle Beckett: He ain't been with you?
Viola shakes her head.
Kyle Beckett: Then I've got no fucking idea. Seems he ain't got the time or energy to even reach out to anyone and he's got Buckley's of me chasing him down or trying to keep tabs.
Viola Williams: Don’t you think it’s weird that no one’s heard from him? You, me, his fucking crew chief?
Kyle Beckett: He's his own bloke. He's free to choose to not have anyone's back or not even give them the time of bloody day if he wants.
Viola rolls her eyes.
Viola Williams: For fuck’s sake, that’s not– forget it, why did I bother? Just give that dickweasel hell tonight.
Kyle looks back to see the back of Viola disappear around the corner. He tries but fails to mask his pained expression of confusion. With a shake of his head he returns to his own thoughts.
Artemis shakes her head, brow knit, lips pursed.
Artemis Direction: David’s absence has been rather conspicuous.
Hiro Suzuki: To be fair, Thorne and Lang did take him apart in the ring.
Del Ramos: Since when has that stopped him before? The kid’s tough as shoe leather and I’m pretty sure he’s got some kind of medical condition where if he doesn’t fight, he’ll fukken die. I can count the number of shows he hasn't been booked on with one hand and have fingers left over. If something’s keeping him out of the ring, I’m gonna guess it ain’t his idea. I like the kind of brutality Roy brings to the ring, but if he’s keeping a fight from happening, we’re gonna have words.
Artemis Direction: Well if what I’ve heard through the grapevine is true, we’re getting this match specifically because Roy requested it!
Hiro Suzuki: On our last show, Viola went a little… overboard on the beat down.
Del Ramos Says you. I wanna see how much blood that little knife can let.
Kevin Kim: This next contest is set for one fall. Introducing first, accompanied by your Ascended Wrestling World Champion Silvio Leon—from Baltimore, Maryland, weighing in at 160 pounds, Viola Williams, LEGACY!
A heavy beat reverberates through the arena, and Viola Williams enters with a bright, self-assured smile. Silvio Leon emerges just behind her, belt slung over one shoulder, grinning and firing up the crowd. She starts making her steady way down the ramp, nodding her head to the beat and letting the crowd’s reactions pump her up, pausing only once to give a small salute as she passes a camera on her way.
Artemis Direction: Looks like Silvio and Viola might be following up a little on that kiss under the mistletoe!
She grins, twisting a lock of hair around one finger.
Artemis Direction: …Or the New Years Eve party I heard they attended.
Hiro Suzuki: Sometimes having a little back up in your corner for moral support is just what you need to put you over the top!
She picks up the pace, jogging, then running until she gets to the ring, rolling under the ropes and springing to her feet. She follows the stomp-stomp-clap beat that starts up in the chorus, breaking into a grin as the crowd joins in, then spins to soak in the entire arena’s energy, arms thrown wide, laughing with joy.
Kevin Kim: And her opponent!
A sharp whistling sound fills the arena, and he lights on either side of the stage entrance rotate, flashing white beams in a hypnotic pattern.
Kevin Kim: From Bellevue, Washington, weighing 189 pounds, MARA LANG!
There is something unwholesome about the way Mara strides to the ring, not a motion wasted. Usually her eyes sweep the Ascended Army as she passes, but tonight her gaze is focused squarely on the ring, and her opponent within. Viola’s shoulders tense, but she steels herself.
Hiro Suzuki: Was anybody else really creeped out by that promo Lang cut?
Artemis gives a little snort.
Artemis Direction: At this point, I’m convinced ‘creepy’ is Mara Lang’s default setting.
Just before Mara reaches the ring, there’s some shuffling and murmuring coming from one of the barricades—and from the crowd emerges Tessa Thorne, still tousled from her match just before, but her focus no less steely.
Artemis Direction: Now, what do we have here?
Del Ramos: Seems like Thorne’s got her eye on Lang.
Thorne takes a place along one side of the ring, arms crossed, giving Williams and Leon a nod and a peace sign, then levels her stare at Mara, full of disdain. Lang only spares her a cursory glance before climbing up into the ring.
Hiro Suzuki: Yeesh! That was a look. Reminds me of when my wife gave me her glass eye.
Artemis Direction: How so, darling?
Hiro Suzuki: Well she knows I’m always looking for free wi-fi!
Del Ramos: If I were married to you, I’d curse Satan for giving me functional vision, too.
DING! DING!
There’s still some tension to Viola’s movement, though she rallies and runs to leap at Lang with a Lou Thesz press—but Mara knocks her out of the air with a lariat! Williams rolls to get back on her feet, but Lang immediately descends to lock up with her. She leans more into Viola’s left side, and as Viola reflexively pulls back Mara wrenches her forward to send her into the ropes, and catches her with a clothesline on the rebound! Legacy hits the canvas hard, and Lang figures she has time to slip out of the ring—but to her shock Viola pounces on her shoulders, locking in a bulldog choke! Mara lurches them forward once, twice to grab the bottom rope. Godric Smith starts the count for Viola to release—and she only relents at the four count. Quick as a flash Mara slides out under the ropes, and Viola makes to follow—but she stops herself, gets to her feet, and starts pacing the ring, ready but anxious.
Del Ramos: Heh! Lang’s trying to take advantage of that uneven rules stipulation. Looks like she’s raiding the toy box, too.
Mara flips up the apron and starts pulling out several things—a short coil of barbed wire, a pipe, a folding chair, a trash can lid—tossing each into the ring so that Williams has to dodge and keep them from hitting her ankles. Finally Mara seems satisfied after finding a thin length of chain—and holding one end she sharply whips it across the canvas! Legacy just barely avoids its end cracking into her ankle, and reflexively she starts to reach to the pipe at her feet– but she just barely stops herself from taking it. Mara yanks the chain back, only to snap it again, this time making it jump as high as Viola’s knees! She prowls one side of the ring, snapping the chain as she goes—Viola can keep out of its reach, but once it cracks against the chair, making it spasm, then sends the can lid at her shins. Each time the chain comes to rest its end is in easy reach before Lang snaps it back—she’s practically daring Williams to grab it. But she refuses.
Artemis Direction: Lang trying to tempt Williams into disqualifying herself.
Del Ramos: C’mon, Williams, it’d be a few weeks without pay but think of the blood! Think of the pain!
They’re in stalemate—Lang has the entire arena at her disposal, but Legacy has her rules, and she’s making it clear that she will not leave the ropes if she doesn’t have to. Mara whips the chain back to herself, dispassionate calculation in her eyes—then she starts stalking towards Silvio. He’s ready on his feet, rolling his shoulders and fixing a steady glare on Lang.
Artemis Direction: Goodness gracious!
Hiro Suzuki: He’s not even in this fight!
Del cackles darkly.
Del Ramos: Oh, it looks like he’s about to be. You know how it is with the hero types. They always need a victim before they bother lifting a finger. Lang’s gonna see just how committed to saving the day Williams really is.
Mara’s grip on the chain shifts—Viola’s eyes go wide, and she’s just about ready to duck through the ropes–
Del Ramos: Here we fuckin’ go!
–Then Thorne stands between Lang and Leon, moving in so quickly that Mara almost bumps into her. Thorne stands a whole head shorter than Mara, but her stance, her proud posture, the fire in her eye, all of them make her presence impossible to ignore. Mara starts to sidestep, but Thorne follows and this time does bump into her. Lang’s eyes narrow, ever so slightly—Thorne juts her chin towards the ring, saying something, and makes to press in on Mara again. With a last glance to Leon, Mara relents and turns back to the ring, Thorne crowding in and jawing the entire way. As Thorne looks back to Silvio, he clasps his hands and flutters his lashes, a breathy, ‘My hero!’ caught on a nearby mic. Thorne grins, rolling her eyes and giving him a playful nudge to the shoulder.
Artemis Direction: Looks like Lang has decided discretion is the better part of valor!
Del lets out a disappointed huff.
Hiro Suzuki: Sounds like you wanted more dissection than discretion!
Del Ramos: Could always cheer myself up by trying it out on you, Suzuki.
But during this standoff, Legacy has had a chance to move some of the foreign objects out to the edge of the apron—and as soon as Mara pulls herself back into the ring Viola hauls off two mighty European uppercuts! Mara staggers, and throws her elbow to catch Williams in the side, but she’s too far off balance to have much effect, and Viola hoists her up to come back down with a sidewalk slam! Williams goes for the cover, but Lang kicks out before Godric Smith can start the count. Both are quick to their feet, but Legacy has momentum—she scoops Mara up and falls back for the Samoan Drop! She covers again!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING! DING! DING!
Kevin Kim: Your winner is Viola Williams—LEGACY!
Godric Smith raises Viola’s hand in victory as Mara crawls to the edge of the ring, disoriented. Silvio joins Williams in the ring, congratulating her enthusiastically and giving her a quick hug. He turns to look at Thorne over his shoulder, offering the new signee a little salute which she returns before disappearing again into the crowd.
Artemis Direction: Looks like Viola has gathered a few allies to her side!
Del Ramos: Might not’ve gotten the bloodshed I wanted here, but seeing Thorne and Williams giving us more brutal babe representation isn’t a bad trade off.
Artemis gives Del a saucy little grin.
Artemis Direction: Oh, agreed, darling. But wait just a moment - I think Ms. Williams has something to say!
Then Viola waves for a microphone.
Viola Williams: Are you happy now, Marcus? I can be good, I can follow rules, I promise. Now let me fight without them. Give me an underworld match, I want to show people what I can really do.
She pauses for a moment, gears turning, before she breaks into a smile.
Viola Williams: And I want O’Toole. He’s been trying to beat me for years, so let’s see if all this “training” was worth it or not. How about it, Val—can Davie come out to play next Collision?
The Ascended Army roars its approval!
Artemis Direction: Now that sounds like a party! And I get the feeling there’s still ample bloodshed to be had with the rest of the evening. Before we get to it, though, it sounds like there’s something happening backstage!
The scent of sweat and vinyl, the glossy sheen of fresh-waxed tile, the damp heat of showers that seemed to run perpetually—Ascended’s locker room had an atmosphere all its own. Some people might’ve found it rank, but on fight nights, before anyone else had come in, there was something almost comforting about these back rooms. It felt so insulated from the outside world. So solid, so safe. Like the floors would still be shining and the showers still on full blast even if Seattle was burning down all around. Nevermind the blood and grime that got scrubbed away each night.
The Culture Clash Kyle Beckett has found himself his own little corner of the room, lacing up his boots, muttering to himself and psyching up for what many considered to be one of his toughest contests yet. He isn’t going to let anything blow his cool, especially not whatever drongo seemed hell-bent on announcing their arrival to the tune of boots on tile approaching the lockers from his side.
Roy Valentine: That was a decidedly cheap trick you pulled.
Kyle doesn't even bother looking up.
Kyle Beckett: Trick mate? Ain’t that your department? Or are you just ashamed that someone played you for the first time?
Roy Valentine: Ah, yes, standing tall and brave before an injured opponent. Truly you have played me for a fool before an audience of millions. You must feel so proud. So strong.
Kyle Beckett: Millions? Fair dinkum, I should’ve shined my shoes and put the good shit in my hair. Not everyday I get to throw dirt in the eye of a wanker like you. But, I’ll save the kiki for after I’ve beaten you. Or maybe I should get you to sign a contract. I hear you’re a fan of those.
At that Kyle looks up, a sly grin upon his face.
Kyle Beckett: You want to know what’s really great about seeing you like this. Standing here, face-to-face. I can confirm just how human you really are. Not simply some deific figure, an ephemeral name that everyone whispers out of fear and trepidation. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
Kyle makes a mental note to thank Rosie for the word ephemeral.
Kyle Beckett: And coming here now, like this to try and throw shade reveals your hand. I got under your skin last week, living rent free. Because how dare some cheugy young ankle-biter like me dare oppose the great Roy Valentine. You ain’t used to not getting your way. Fuck me, I should introduce you to my dad. You and he both are in the same WhatsApp Group. Don’t feel too bad, he didn’t know how to deal with me either. And he’s fam.
Valentine sets his teeth, but his smile remains cool.
Roy Valentine: Now, I might just enjoy that—unless he speaks in the same gibberish dialect as you. Or perhaps you simply neglected his lessons on the Queen’s English; certainly, he taught you nothing of manners. But by all means, run your mouth, enjoy the moment in the sun you have earned at the expense of my dignity and your own honor. I have dealt with your ilk a hundred times over and I know why you insist on this dance.
He leans in, glowering over Kyle.
Roy Valentine: Parasites like you need a host. A colossus from which to leech life. Or, in your case, fame. And for once, you believe you have found an easy mark—why, if Ms. Williams can bleed me dry, could you not do the same?
Valentine shakes his head and chuckles.
Roy Valentine: By all means: plant your teeth. See what spills forth. I very much doubt you will enjoy the taste. And when you finally slink down under the dirt from whence you came, spitting up the vile medicine you thought you craved, perhaps you will still have the guts to admit to yourself that you need this desperate win more than I need the satisfaction of crushing you.
Kyle Beckett: I’m sorry. You still yabbering on? Remember I don’t speak the Queen’s English. It’s all just blah blah blah. But I’ll tell you what language I do speak.
The Boy from Aus is up in a flash, standing practically nose to nose with his upcoming opponent. He produces a clenched fist and holds it in front of Roy’s face.
And Roy flinches.
Kyle Beckett: High-key, I speak it very bloody well mate, and by the end of the night you’ll be pretty fluent yourself. No Cap.
He makes for the door.
Kyle Beckett: I’ll leave you alone so you can practice your grandiose losing speech in the mirror. And take a good long look at yourself, cause I’m finna mess up that pompous sleezeball face of yours. There'll only be one outcome to this match, and just like my old man I'm happy to disappoint you. Cause you won't be the one coming out on top. Periodt.
Del Ramos: Ohhh tonight’s main event is gonna be good. Whenever you get vitriol like that, you know it’s gonna come out in the ring in the most vicious ways possible.
Artemis Direction: Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, darlings! We have a title match coming up next!
Hiro Suzuki: SKUP9 challenging Sebastian Hawke for the Emerald City Championship!
Artemis Direction: They’ve had ample time to scout each other with their tag team match on Collision 10.
Del Ramos: All the scouting in the world ain’t gonna stop Hawke from turning into pink mist when SKUP suplexes him through the ring.
Hiro Suzuki: Kinda funny for Hawke to hope this doesn’t turn into a mist opportunity for the Eliminator!
Del Ramos: Go make out with a pencil sharpener, Suzuki.
Artemis Direction: For the Eliminator, it isn’t a matter of if he’ll get a title - it’s a matter of when. And it may be, ‘when,’ tonight, babies!
Del Ramos: SKUP might have the mass advantage, but Hawke does have that brutal pain tolerance. Short man syndrome is fukken real and Hawke’s the kinda dude who will fight tooth and nail to keep what’s his after the shit Lang put him through.
Artemis Direction: Looks like we’re about to put that to the test, darling!
Kevin Kim: Ascended Army, the following match is for THE EMERALD CITY CHAMPIONSHIP!
The crowd roars with anticipation!
Kevin Kim:Introducing first - the challenger!
The house lights suddenly snuff out, leaving the arena completely dark. The speakers blare to life.
Escobar’s season has returned.
The violin intro to ”Hate Me Now” by Nas ft. Puff Daddy pumps through the stadium.
“It’s been a long time, been a long time comin’
It’s life or death for me now
But you know, there’s no turning back now
This is what makes me, this is what I am
Feel me
Let’s go”
It’s life or death for me now
But you know, there’s no turning back now
This is what makes me, this is what I am
Feel me
Let’s go”
The chorus kicks in and a spotlight appears from behind the entrance, creating the large, looming silhouette of the man in front of it. The lights come up and he raises his arms in the air.
Kevin Kim: On his way to the ring from Grand Junction, Colorado, weighing in at 369 pounds… he is ‘The Eliminator’–SKUP9!
As he stalks down the ramp, The Eliminator beats a fist against his chest, and points a finger at a group of fans pumping their fists in the air and chanting along with the music.
Artemis Direction: SKUP9 is focused tonight!
Hiro Suzuki: I don’t envy our current champ one bit.
Kevin Kim: And his opponent - your EMERALD CITY CHAMPION!
High tempo, up-beat rock music suddenly fills the Colosseum and the entrance stage is bathed in flat blue lighting, punctuated by high frequency white strobes, timed to synch up to the beat, as The Near Future VII. Time to Fly by I Fight Dragons begins to play.
Kevin Kim: Now coming to the ring, from Las Vegas, Nevada, he is your reigning and defending Ascended Wrestling Emerald City Champion, SEBASTIAN HAWKE!
Feeling the energy from his music, belt strapped around his waist, Sebastian Hawke bounces out onto the stage and waves to the numerous fans happy to see him. Beaming, Sebastian runs down the ramp to the ring and slides in posing for the crowd!
Artemis Direction: Hawke looking fired up!
Hiro Suzuki: Hey, did you hear about the police arresting a couple of guys for stealing batteries and fireworks?
Artemis Direction: Why, no, dear heart! What happened?
Hiro Suzuki: They charged one and let the other off!
Del Ramos: Only you could ruin the idea of blowing shit up.
DING DING!
The Eliminator and the Emerald City Champ approach the center of the ring. There’s no animosity between the two, however important this match may be for each of them, and when SKUP offers a fist bump, Seb grins and takes it.
Artemis Direction: Some fine sportsmanship demonstrated between our competitors!
Del Ramos: Let’s see how long it lasts.
The size difference between the two is undeniable, brought into even greater focus as they circle one another, each considering their first angle of attack. SKUP is the first to move, going for a Bearhug that Seb ducks under, rolling between the big man’s legs! He springs up again, back against the turnbuckle for half a second as the Eliminator turns around, then goes sprinting forward, practically taking flight to hit the big man with a running knee! SKUP staggers back a step, but it’s not enough impact to send him to the mat, and he’s ready as Seb gets vertical again, grabbing him around the throat and sending him to the canvas with a merciless choke toss! Seb is stunned for a moment, but rolls out of the way of one massive stomp from the Eliminator just in time! Getting back to his feet, he runs at the ropes, bouncing off of them for some more momentum as he comes back up at SKUP again, this time with a calf kick that has enough oomph in it to put the giant down! Jill Kincaid slides in as Seb makes a pin!
ONE!
Kick out from SKUP9!
Del Ramos: You ain’t that lucky, kid.
A point the Eliminator is looking to drive home, hitting Seb hard with a discus lariat that sends the champ ass over teakettle! As Hawke is getting up, the giant hits him with a release scoop slam that has the audience groaning in sympathetic pain! Sebastian bites down on the agony, though it’s clearly written on his face, and SKUP isn’t done! Lifting his smaller opponent, the Eliminator sets him up for a slingshot powerbomb, bouncing him off the nearby top rope before turning, ready to slam his opponent into the canvas–
Artemis Direction: Good heavens this may end earlier than any of us could have imagined!
--but Seb twists, wraps his arm around SKUP’s neck and uses his bigger opponent’s own momentum to bring him down in a thunderous neck breaker! As the audience cheers, Hawke, teeth set against the pain, goes for the pin again!
ONE!
TW–
Kick out from SKUP9!
Del Ramos: Still not happening, kid!
Artemis Direction: Hawke trying to end this early!
Hiro Suzuki: Speaking of, what do you call a dinosaur that gets up way too early?
Del Ramos: I swear when I get my cloned T-Rex with the monocle and top hat from Afsah, I’m gonna start a mukbang channel with it and have it eat you first, Suzuki.
Hiro Suzuki: An AssCrackoDon!!
Del Ramos: I will have it floss with your fucking intestines when it’s done.
Before the Eliminator can get to his feet, Seb tries to lock in the Break Point, but SKUP is just too damn big! Managing to untangle himself from the champ, SKUP is on his feet when Hawke comes at him with a roundhouse kick that the big man catches! Seb goes for an enzuigiri, but the Eliminator has it scouted, catching the other foot and leaving Hawke helpless as he’s spun around by the ankles in a giant swing! SKUP releases him, sending him tumbling across the canvas to land hard on the outside mats! Jill Kincaid begins the ten count as Seb tries to orient himself.
Del Ramos: Smart move on SKUP’s part. Hawke might have a higher pain tolerance, but that doesn’t mean you can’t make him too dizzy to stay on his feet.
Gripping the side of the ring apron, Seb uses it to steady himself and climb back into the ring, only for SKUP to grab him by the shoulder to drag him the rest of the way in! Seb struggles, but he can’t stop the Eliminator from hitting him with the Expulsion! The crowd is on its feet as Jill comes in for the count!
ONE!
TWO!
THR–
Kick out from Hawke!
Artemis Direction: We almost had a new champion!
SKUP9 seems to share the sentiment, looking surprised that Hawke managed to kick out! While the champ is still on the mat, the Eliminator gets up and sets one foot directly on Sebastian’s throat!
Artemis yelps and Hiro cringes, rubbing at his throat in sympathy while Del howls with laughter.
Artemis Direction: SKUP9, well aware of Seb’s high pain tolerance, is looking to throw him off his game by disabling and disorienting him in the ring!
Del Ramos: THAT’S IT! CRUSH HIM!! MAKE HIM REGRET THE VERY ACT OF BREATHING!
SKUP seems intent on doing just that, though Seb struggles, swinging a leg up to hit his opponent in the knee! The Eliminator staggers back a bit, and the instant he’s free, Seb takes the opportunity for another strike to the knee! Grimacing, SKUP takes a step back, Hawke taking the opportunity to hit him with a rising European uppercut! SKUP9 stumbles back into a turnbuckle, leaning against it for stability as Hawke gets a running start from the opposite side of the ring, looking for a running calf kick! Just as he’s about to connect, however, SKUP rolls out of his way, Seb colliding with the turnbuckles!
Hiro Suzuki: SKUP is showing some serious ring awareness and defying the expectations of what a guy his size is limited to!
While the reflexes and ring smarts are definitely part of the Eliminator’s repertoire, he’s not shy to show the Ascended Army the thing about his fighting style that sets him apart - his raw power and strength. With his opponent right where he wants him, hung up in the turnbuckles, The Eliminator has the crowd coming unglued as he slams Seb to the mat with the Riddance! SKUP goes for the pin!
ONE!
TWO!
THR–
Kick out from Hawke!
The audience is screaming their disbelief, SKUP sitting up and gaping at his opponent. Seb’s eyes are fluttering, and he seems to be having trouble getting enough air, coughing and shaking his head as he struggles to push himself up from the mat! SKUP sets his teeth, getting to his feet and dragging Hawke with him looking to lock in the Eradication!
Hiro Suzuki: If SKUP manages to get that locked in, it’s all over!
Seb seems to realize this, too, squirming with all his might to escape the giant’s grasp! He kicks that knee he was working on earlier, causing the Eliminator to buckle with a grunt of pain! Arm wrapped around SKUP’s neck, using every bit of his body weight and whatever momentum he can muster, Sebastian slams his opponent down with a reverse DDT! The big man is seeing stars, trying to regather his wits as Hawke climbs the nearest turnbuckle, and slams down with the PinPoint! Both wrestlers are laid out on the mat for a moment, SKUP grimacing as he tries to rise again, but that injured knee not allowing it! Rallying himself with a mighty roar that echoes the one resounding from the audience, Sebastian goes for the pin!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING DING DING!
Kevin Kim: Your winner and still Ascended Wrestling Emerald City Champion - SEBASTIAN HAWKE!
Godric Smith raises Seb’s arm, and while the champ takes a moment to bask in the limelight, just as quickly he turns to SKUP and extends a hand to help him up. The pair share a grin, SKUP9 shaking the extended hand instead before getting to his feet, albeit a bit gingerly.
Artemis Direction: My my my! Seb certainly pulling out all the stops for this one!
Del Ramos: Working a joint over was a smart idea with such a big opponent. He was never gonna be able to lock in the SNAP on SKUP and he knew it.
Hiro Suzuki: Both our fighters showed they’re worthy of gold tonight!
Artemis Direction: Without a doubt, darling! Though if you ask mother, I’d say the fighters in our next match are just as deserving.
Hiro Suzuki: Roy was our first Emerald City Champion before losing the title to Hawke. And so far Kyle Beckett is the only person in the company to successfully pin our World Champ! He’s not somebody to underestimate.
Del Ramos: Maybe, but Leon doesn’t fight dirty. Valentine’s a different story.
Artemis Direction: In fairness, my metal maven, Kyle has shown he’s not shy about getting a little creative if given the proper motivation. Don’t forget, he answered Buck Fruckster’s red mist to the eyes with a little revenge of his own. If Valentine decides he wants to get cute with some foreign object with the ref’s not looking, he’d better make peace with the idea of checking over his shoulder every time he steps into the Colosseum for the rest of his tenure here.
Del Ramos: Heh! The kid is showing why you shouldn’t fuck with him. I’m all for that eye for an eye attitude.
Hiro makes a face.
Hiro Suzuki: It seems to have caught Lang’s attention…
Artemis sighs, shaking her head in exasperation.
Artemis Direction: No doubt the fashy little waste of space is watching all this as she recovers from the thrashing Williams gave her. This… budding alliance between Mara and Roy is…
Hiro Suzuki: Pants shittingly ominous?
Artemis Direction: Not quite the phrasing I’d use, but you capture the spirit of the sentiment, huntybee.
Del Ramos: Whatever these two have in mind, I’m fucking starving for bloodshed! LET’S GET THIS UNDERWAY BEFORE I HAVE TO RESORT TO RECREATIONAL RITUAL SACRIFICES, KIM!
Kevin Kim: Ascended Army, tonight’s main event is set for one fall. Introducing first!
“Stick to Your Guns” hits and Kyle stands at the top of the entrance ramp, bent slightly forward and arms crossed. He drops the hood of his jacket and throws his arms out wide, letting out an excited roar to the crowd. He looks around to take in the arena before striding down the ramp, Viola Williams following close behind.
Kevin Kim: Accompanied tonight by Viola Williams—from Brisbane, Australia, weighing in at 91 kg, he is the Culture Clash, KYLE BECKETT!
Artemis Direction: Well now! It looks like Ms. Williams is making good on her promise to support our dear Culture Clash!
Hiro Suzuki: You know, if they’ve worked out their differences, it’d be interesting to see them tag again. I feel like their styles would mesh if they gave each other a chance.
Kyle ascends the ring apron, looking out to the arena again, and climbs to the top of the turnbuckle. His “Aussie, Aussie, Aussie!” is answered with a resounding “Oi oi oi!” from the Ascended Army.
Symphonic guitar screeches through the stadium. The screen follows a trail of twisting, thorny vines as they wind over a pitch-black floor to the foot of a marble throne. As the thorns begin to engulf the stone, the camera rises to reveal Roy Valentine lying sideways across the marble seat, legs pitched over its arm. The plants trace a deferential space around Valentine, but utterly consume every inch of bare throne. When the vines finally stop twisting, Valentine snaps his fingers, and the all-encompassing wall of green bursts into bloom, red and gold roses spelling out the name, “ROY VALENTINE”.
Kevin Kim: And his opponent: Hailing from Cape Elizabeth, Maine, weighing in at 219 pounds, ROY VALENTINE!
Valentine then makes his entrance in the flesh, strutting on stage under a shower of crimson petals. Alongside him stalks his steel wall of an assistant, Anastasia Keller, metal clipboard in hand. Valentine holds a scarlet “Valentine Velvet” rose at his heart which he tosses into the crowd on his way down the ramp, all the while blowing kisses to the disgusted Ascended Army.
Hiro Suzuki: David O’Toole still nowhere to be seen…
As Valentine relishes in his grandiose entrance, someone slips in through the far barricades—in a fuzzy cream cardigan and an apple-green dress, in comes Thorne’s manager, Ivy Thistledown. She waves cheerily to Kyle and Viola, following with a gesture and rubbing her hands together. Valentine’s eyes narrow as he spots her, and he calls over Jill Kincaid for a word, gesturing to Ivy. She gives the affirmative that Ivy is allowed to be down here—which, judging from Valentine’s frown, is not the answer he wanted. He fixes her with a stern look as he gets into the ring, while she merely waves back. But now his attention rests on Kyle, who’s braced himself in his corner, ready to launch.
Artemis Direction: It appears as though our new signees have taken a keen interest in keeping Roy and Mara’s shenanigans in check!
Del Ramos: I think we’re seeing some alliances being forged…
They grin.
Del Ramos: Always love the violence of a little turf war…
DING! DING!
Beckett is in motion at the first strike of the bell, coming at Valentine for a wild forearm smash—but Valentine has more than enough time to prepare, and he catches and hip-tosses Kyle to the mat. Kyle is quick to rally, surging to his feet for the two to lock up in the middle of the ring—he wrenches Valentine around and over in a solid snapmare, but Roy holds fast to pull Beckett down with him! The two get up at once, but Roy finds his footing first, and he yanks Kyle in for a short clothesline, sending him right back down to the canvas. They trade these blows back and forth—Beckett goes on the attack; Valentine knocks him aside, almost looking insulted; and Kyle rallies to go again.
Hiro Suzuki: Beckett will not stay down!
Finally, irritated, Valentine lunges—Kyle looks to lock up, but Roy feigns and snares him in a front face lock, then drives his back into the nearest turnbuckles! Immediately Jill Kincaid is with them, ordering that Valentine relent, and with a sneer he rams Beckett into the turnbuckles once more before letting Kyle drop in a heap to the mat.
Artemis Direction: Now this really just feels like adding insult to injury!
Hiro Suzuki: Pretty sure Kyle’s gonna be in the same condition I was when I dropped my school books on my foot!
Del Ramos: …Hnnn… If I focused the injury on his foot, maybe he couldn’t walk into work…
Hiro Suzuki: I had a textbook bruise!
While Jill is focused on Kyle, Keller has come to Valentine’s corner—and from behind her clipboard she takes something and slides it along the apron–
Artemis Direction: Oh dear…
–but Ivy intercepts it! She gives the object another push so it collides into the ring post with a resounding clatter, and ricochets onto the floor. The noise gets everyone’s attention, and Ivy picks the object up off the floor before Keller can retrieve it—a set of brass knuckles! She frowns in innocent confusion, holding them high in the air for all—and especially Jill—to see. Valentine flashes a look to Keller—who’s so surprised herself that she can only sputter what’s likely an apology—and then to Ivy–
–and Kyle charges in, wrenching Valentine back and sending him to the canvas to Break the Cycle! He scrambles to cover!
Artemis Direction: Well, that backfired spectacularly!
Hiro Suzuki: Reminds me of the mistake I made entering my snail into a race. I took off his shell, but it just made him more sluggish!
ONE!
TWO!
Valentine kicks out with a vicious snarl, and drags both of them to their feet. He sends Kyle into the ropes, and as Beckett comes back, he hip tosses him out of the ring! Beckett takes the fall hard—from a distance both Viola and Ivy shout encouragement, and from his stirring it’s clear that Kyle wants nothing more than to get to his feet. Jill Kincaid starts the count out—then about halfway through, Valentine ducks under the ropes to come to the floor, and leisurely comes to stand over Kyle. Roy pulls him upright by the hair, then the shoulders, and rolls Kyle back into the ring just before Jill reaches ten—but he still doesn’t go for a cover, and instead hauls him up for his Red Crown finisher! Beckett crumples, yet Valentine still does not cover, instead dropping to snare him in a crossface!
Hiro Suzuki: Jeez! Valentine’s not just looking to win, he’s looking to make Beckett suffer!
Del cackles gleefully.
Del Ramos: FUCK YEAH HE IS! WRING OUT ALL THE PAIN YOU CAN, BUTTERCUP!
Kyle’s agony is clear, though when Jill checks in he refuses to submit. But just as Valentine is about to wrench the hold tighter, about to practically snap Kyle in half, Viola Williams is up in the ring and at Roy’s shoulders to loosen his grip and pull him off!
DING! DING! DING!
Kevin Kim: Ascended Army, as the result of disqualification, the winner of this match is ROY VALENTINE!
Artemis Direction: Williams unwilling to watch Beckett being tortured!
Del Ramos: SPOIL SPORT!
As soon as Valentine releases Beckett, Viola immediately backs off, keeping her hands out and open, and medical staff immediately bustle in to see to Kyle. Valentine and Legacy stare daggers at each other as he gets to his feet—her face is set as flint, steely and determined; and on top of his condescension he seems amused, almost impressed, at her sheer audacity. But finally she backs up to duck out of the ring, and Roy’s victorious smirk curls.
Artemis Direction: Well now! Ascended Army, it appears Roy Valentine and Mara Lang find themselves afoul of a growing alliance within our roster!
Hiro Suzuki:Are we seeing the beginning of a rivalry here? Maybe even a war?
Del Ramos: Dark lords of the deep, if you bless us with all out havoc, I swear I will up the sacrifices starting with my ass clown co-worker and his dumb fukken bow tie.
Hiro Suzuki: It’s a functional part of the wardrobe! Where would I be without my comedic tieming?
Artemis Direction: See you on the next Collision, Ascended Army!
Credits
Thorne vs. Annie - g
Viola Williams & Kyle Beckett Backstage - Legacy and BoyfromAus
‘Legacy’ Viola Williams vs. Mara Lang - Aedan
Kyle Beckett & Roy Valentine Backstage - Aedan and BoyfromAus
Kyle Beckett vs. Roy Valentine - g
Everything else - Ampersand
Thank you to all my players and writers![/font]