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Post by Conrad Dukes on Sept 9, 2021 0:12:33 GMT -6
Rules- Posts limited to 500 words max.
- Absolutely no double posting unless the thread has been inactive for at least six hours.
- Do not kill or permanently main or cripple your opponents. Do not declare yourself the winner.
Judging will be based on creativity, interactions with others, and storytelling. You are, in this thread only allowed to use your opponent's characters without permission. God-moding and no-selling will be considered judging demerits, as well as the handling of characters of others we feel inappropriate.
Good luck. May the last man be standing. |
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Post by Ripped “Tide” Taylor on Sept 9, 2021 15:00:53 GMT -6
“WE ROLL”, The New Alabama Crimson Tide Fight Song, starts playing throughout the Black Pyramid Paddock in Mexico City, Mexico.
A mixture of multicolored laser lights and strobe lights illuminate throughout the Paddock as theatrical smoke and fog starts setting the stage like a sold out Alabama Crimson Tide Home Football Game.
We see Ripped “Tide” Taylor, wearing his old torn and worn out #55 Alabama Crimson Tide red home jersey that’s cut in half to show off his very “ripped” washboard abs, his blood and grass stained white 7 pad football pants, and red & white cleated Nike’s sharpened into spikes, exploding through the BPW velveteen curtain like a bat out of hell and running down the aisle towards the squared-circle.
He slides into the center of the squared-circle and thrusts his taped fist into the air while holding his “UnOfficial” Alabama Crimson Tide #55 Football Helmet in silent cheer, and freezes there, like Judd Nelson at the end of The Breakfast Club…
He puts on his “UnOfficial” Alabama Crimson Tide #55 Football Helmet and snaps on the chin-strap and adjusts the chin-strap by tightening it to hold the helmet perfectly into place then places his Alabama Crimson Tide mouthpiece in his mouth to protect his pearly whites.
He was smiling under his mirrored crimson colored face shield and face mask.
This one time former highly touted full blown 5 star no-holds-barred psychopathic, sociopathic prototype Edge Rusher/Outside Linebacker was ready for the big game as he continues looking up the aisle waiting in anticipation for the appearance of Lexi Sparkles, High Voltage, and Robbie Hope.
He starts running back and forth across the squared-circle while bouncing off the ropes in order to stay loose and keep his adrenaline flowing.
When He reaches the center of the ring, he lands a series of Up-Yours Flying Elbow Smashes onto the BPW logo.
Now, that’s really Mexico City Hardcore!
He keeps his sparkling blues focused up the aisle seeing who will show up next. Lexi Sparkles? High Voltage? Or, Robbie Hope?
He gestures with his opened palmed hand, “Come Get Some”, that gets the audience inside the Black Pyramid Paddock into a cattle drive feeding frenzy to start the show.
Ding. Ding…
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Post by High Voltage on Sept 12, 2021 20:59:14 GMT -6
The concrete is cold. That monolithic beast, Spartan, was standing over me with a look upon his face that suggested he was just itching for a chance to snap one of my small bones. Ainsworth was angry about what she deemed as my failure in Las Vegas. I didn't dare move, not because of Spartan's immense presence but because of the sickening glare that the strange one known as Mr. Flop was casting in my direction. We were waiting outside of the Black Pyramid Paddock, I was eager to just get in there and get this beating over with, but Miss Ainsworth that I wait for her, and her minions were obliging in ensuring that I followed her directions. It was then she walked into my eyeline in her figure hugging blue dress. Her hips had a seductive swivel as she walked straight towards me.
Miss Ainsworth: VIVA LA MEXICO!
High Voltage: Viva la Mexico? I was confused
Miss Ainsworth: Make the most of it my boy she said rubbing my chin and pursing her lips
High Voltage: Sure! Sure? I feigned excitement. Fuck it. There was a beating to be had.
Miss Ainsworth: That's the spirit!
I think she is drunk.
High Voltage is hoisted his feet by the mammoth hands of Spartan and shoved in the direction of combat. In the distance, N.E.R.D's Rockstar punctuates the silence.
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Post by Robbie Hope on Sept 14, 2021 11:12:26 GMT -6
ALL I DO IS WIN WIN WIN NO MATTER WHAT There is a frenetic energy in the crowd as they sing along to the anthemic song. Robbie Hope exits the curtain, his eyes wide when he sees the mass of faces in the Luxor. Being the center of attention has him feeling a little overwhelmed - he was very uncomfortable being in the presence of faces he’d never seen before, and probably never would again.
But he remembered what he was determined to do in Las Vegas.
His eyes scanned the front rows of the crowds, hoping anyone would stand out to him. Hoping someone could steer him in the direction of finding who he was looking for. There was a chance, he thought, of her sticking around in Las Vegas - and maybe he would be magnetized towards someone who could give him a nudge in the right direction.
Sometimes, the eyes tell a bigger story than any words ever could.
Robbie Hope walked slowly down the entrance ramp, and under the strobe lights, the pyrotechnics, the crescendo of the music - those faces begin to morph and bend in a polychromatic prism, as if his brain was adjusting to the best drugs.
But he hadn’t taken any.
The shapes and outlines of their heads - the freckles and scars and the imperfections on their flesh - all distorted into a colorless void, as if they’d all mutated into moon-colored vampires. Their eyes, once filled with eager passion and hysteria, possibly revealing sage wisdom and enlightenment, were now cloaked under a harrowing mask.
EVERYBODY HANDS GO UP (AND THEY STAY THERE) Robbie Hope felt like he was the only one moving - like the rest of the world stood still. As if he was in the middle of a mannequin challenge, and the joke was on him. His anxiety kicked in even higher as he walked up the steps and into the ring, knowing that he was put into this position by Conrad Dukes. That if he was to find the answers - and the woman - he was looking for, he would have to fight for it.
These men were certified athletes.
Robbie wasn’t.
They were trained wrestlers.
Robbie wasn’t.
But there was no turning back now. He was signed to the Mexico City Hardcore Match, and he knew there was a good chance he would not make it out without feeling hurt and pain and injury. But he couldn’t back out - he had to fulfill his obligation.
For her.
Finally, he caught a glimpse of Miss Ainsworth, leaning over the ropes. His eyes met her intoxicated eyes.
“YOU!”
Her eyes told a story he was too afraid to hear.
“YOU KNEW HER!”
As Robbie reached for her, a right hand cracked the side of his skull, rendering him unconscious. |
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Post by High Voltage on Sept 14, 2021 17:42:44 GMT -6
I smacked that guy in the back of the head at the direction of Miss Ainsworth.
High Voltage grabbed Robbie Hope by the hair and lifted him to his feet, Voltage held him there as Miss Ainsworth wandered over to see her charge's conquest. Miss Ainsworth ran her finger down the cheek of Robbie Hope.
Miss Ainsworth: He's cute.
I didn't try to understand her.
Miss Ainsworth: Drop him.
Ainsworth kisses Robbie Hope on the check before High Voltage drops him down onto the mat once more. Ainsworth, with the delicate footsteps of an elephant plants the point of her stiletto into the heel of chest, before stepping off with a pirouette.
I really don't WANT to understand her. She gives me a look. I had to hurt him.
High Voltage lifts Robbie Hope on to his shoulders and plants him into the mat again.
I did what I was told.
UGH!
High Voltage is driven to the ground by Ripped "Tide" Taylor who pummels him with fists to the face. As she leaves the ring, Miss Ainsworth rubs her fingers under the nose of Robbie Hope.
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