Paradox
Paradox glared about her, even as she panted, sucking in much-needed oxygen. While the temptation to go after Dalkiel was almost overwhelming, Blacksmith was shaking off the effects of the blow. As the behemouth Death-Marcher closed in, she turned her focus to the more immediate danger.
Blacksmith went for the tried and true. His hands closed about her throat once more. She made no effort to resist; indeed she smiled grimly. She showed no distress as he began to squeeze. Seconds ticked by, and suddenly the Death Marcher let go, arms waving in pain.
The spikes visible on her neck were red-tainted, and she grinned as she stared at the bigger man. Even as the audiance gasped, more porcupine-like spikes appeared over her body. She leapt forward, hugging the Blacksmith around the neck, pushing her body against his. "Come on, big boy, don't you want it?" Little dots of blood appeared all over his body, as he struggled to escape her grasp.
The spikes suddenly disappeared, and she struck out viscously, at the same target Dalkiel had hit earlier. As the bigger man swayed, Paradox suddenly began to glisten, as an oily fluid seemed to ooze from her very pores.
Once more she leapt forward, and as the acid-laden liquid touched the minor wounds of the spikes, Blacksmith bellowed with furious pain. Paradox was content to keep the contact short; so far, her assaults were of a nuisance nature. But the time was coming to get serious about putting the Death Marcher down...
Paradox vs Blacksmith: Darkweight Title
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Annoyance (by Paradox)
word count: 260
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::The warrior is on his knees...
The Blacksmith (DEATH MARCH)
...seething, in pain. Paradox stands over the challenger and laughs slightly at him.::
PSS: Now this is what I like to see! The champion is well on her way to retaining her title, just as it should be! It's only fair, after all.
BLD: Right...fair. Anyway, I will give her this: she's getting no help from her boss Doc, who is conspicuous by his absence at ringside tonight.
::The Rider kicks the warrior in the back with a scissors kick, but with the returning spikes so that she leaves deep, long slices in his back.::
PSS: And just what do you mean by that? Are you saying that she can't win without Doc here? Because you're wrong!
BLD: I didn;t say that. I'm just trying to say that having Doc out here would even things up a bit.
::The Olympian tries to get up, but is sent back down by a spinning heel kick to the chin, coming at him at an incredible rate of speed.::
PSS: Well, yeah! If anything she's at a disadvantage with the Jolly Blue Elf out here! But she's persevering! Did you see what she's doing to that old fool's warrior?
BLD: (tiring of this) She's a regular Sonic the Hedgehog, Prez.
::Paradox ascends to the top rope and executes a magical 450-degree splash on her opponent. She goes for the cover.::
"1...2..."
::The warrior kicks out.::
PSS: AW! Almost! And I resent that, Blade. Do not refer to our Darkweight Champion as a blue, spiky idiot from an antiquated game!
BLD: Can we watch the match here, Prez? Or do you want to defend your baby girl some more?
::The champion, a bit frustrated, stomps her foot on the mat. The magical shockwave shakes the ring, throwing the warrior 10 feet in the air and bring him back down again, hard.::
PSS: (getting angry now) The Hell're you...My daughter does not need any defense. Yeah, let's watch the match! Let's have a look at this amazing display here, huh?!
BLD: Good for you, boss. I was wondering when I'd get to do my job tonight.
::The champion turns the challenger onto his stomach and straddles his back. She sticks out her tongue and lets her saliva drip down as acid into the deep, long slices there.::
PSS: Yeah! That's it! Make him suffer!! Show him why you're the Darkweight Champion! Make him see the dark!!
BLD: God, that's repulsive. What else can she possibly do to humiliate this man?
...seething, in pain. Paradox stands over the challenger and laughs slightly at him.::
PSS: Now this is what I like to see! The champion is well on her way to retaining her title, just as it should be! It's only fair, after all.
BLD: Right...fair. Anyway, I will give her this: she's getting no help from her boss Doc, who is conspicuous by his absence at ringside tonight.
::The Rider kicks the warrior in the back with a scissors kick, but with the returning spikes so that she leaves deep, long slices in his back.::
PSS: And just what do you mean by that? Are you saying that she can't win without Doc here? Because you're wrong!
BLD: I didn;t say that. I'm just trying to say that having Doc out here would even things up a bit.
::The Olympian tries to get up, but is sent back down by a spinning heel kick to the chin, coming at him at an incredible rate of speed.::
PSS: Well, yeah! If anything she's at a disadvantage with the Jolly Blue Elf out here! But she's persevering! Did you see what she's doing to that old fool's warrior?
BLD: (tiring of this) She's a regular Sonic the Hedgehog, Prez.
::Paradox ascends to the top rope and executes a magical 450-degree splash on her opponent. She goes for the cover.::
"1...2..."
::The warrior kicks out.::
PSS: AW! Almost! And I resent that, Blade. Do not refer to our Darkweight Champion as a blue, spiky idiot from an antiquated game!
BLD: Can we watch the match here, Prez? Or do you want to defend your baby girl some more?
::The champion, a bit frustrated, stomps her foot on the mat. The magical shockwave shakes the ring, throwing the warrior 10 feet in the air and bring him back down again, hard.::
PSS: (getting angry now) The Hell're you...My daughter does not need any defense. Yeah, let's watch the match! Let's have a look at this amazing display here, huh?!
BLD: Good for you, boss. I was wondering when I'd get to do my job tonight.
::The champion turns the challenger onto his stomach and straddles his back. She sticks out her tongue and lets her saliva drip down as acid into the deep, long slices there.::
PSS: Yeah! That's it! Make him suffer!! Show him why you're the Darkweight Champion! Make him see the dark!!
BLD: God, that's repulsive. What else can she possibly do to humiliate this man?
word count: 441
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Time to have fun
<embed src="" hidden="true">
Doc ran out from the crowd and speared TDR from behind. The hammer fell to the ground and TDR found his face on it's head as he was pedigreed into it. Doc picked up the hammer and held it over his shoulder. Blacksmith came to try to grab it, but found Doc had slammed him in the head between the eyes with it. Doc stood there and nodded to Paradox.
---
Paradox
Paradox looked at her (temporarily) supine opponant. She walked over, placing one foot lightly on his massive chest. The ref, looking slightly puzzled, dropped and began the count. 1...2....Blacksmith floated off the ground.
Paradox grinned, and began to float up along with Blacksmith, who against all odds was beginning to rouse from the blow by Doc. Waving a hand, the Death Marcher inverted, then dropped to the ground as if pile-driven.
Once more, Blacksmith lay helpless, and Paradox looked down from about five feet in the air. She tilted her head, then dropped down to earth, an elbow catching him across the chest. Getting back up, she went to the ropes, practicing her swanton dive. Still not satisfied, she bent her magics to the ropes, which came alive.
Dragging the massive foe to the turnbuckle, the ropes held him in place as she moved closer. Taking a finger, she began moving it along his face. Makeup appeared where she touched, and within moments, his face was a grotesque paradoy, a face that Tammy Fae Baker herself might love.
Tiring of the game, Paradox went over, and with a heave, picked up the hammer. Holding it slightly unsteadily despite her own not-insignificant musculature, she moved forward to end the match...
Doc ran out from the crowd and speared TDR from behind. The hammer fell to the ground and TDR found his face on it's head as he was pedigreed into it. Doc picked up the hammer and held it over his shoulder. Blacksmith came to try to grab it, but found Doc had slammed him in the head between the eyes with it. Doc stood there and nodded to Paradox.
---
Paradox
Paradox looked at her (temporarily) supine opponant. She walked over, placing one foot lightly on his massive chest. The ref, looking slightly puzzled, dropped and began the count. 1...2....Blacksmith floated off the ground.
Paradox grinned, and began to float up along with Blacksmith, who against all odds was beginning to rouse from the blow by Doc. Waving a hand, the Death Marcher inverted, then dropped to the ground as if pile-driven.
Once more, Blacksmith lay helpless, and Paradox looked down from about five feet in the air. She tilted her head, then dropped down to earth, an elbow catching him across the chest. Getting back up, she went to the ropes, practicing her swanton dive. Still not satisfied, she bent her magics to the ropes, which came alive.
Dragging the massive foe to the turnbuckle, the ropes held him in place as she moved closer. Taking a finger, she began moving it along his face. Makeup appeared where she touched, and within moments, his face was a grotesque paradoy, a face that Tammy Fae Baker herself might love.
Tiring of the game, Paradox went over, and with a heave, picked up the hammer. Holding it slightly unsteadily despite her own not-insignificant musculature, she moved forward to end the match...
word count: 289
