But the movie is a movie based on Tom Hanks' life story, no. I don't want Idras Elba being cast as Tom Hanks. Idgaf how good he is.
Maybe YOU don't but I'd love Tom Hanks as played by Idris Elba.
Fabricant451
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STATUS: You'd think after like 15 years I'd stop feeling like a fraud when writing posts but I still do which is both a statement on my self confidence and a compliment to how good my partners are as writers 29 days ago
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29 days ago
Current
You'd think after like 15 years I'd stop feeling like a fraud when writing posts but I still do which is both a statement on my self confidence and a compliment to how good my partners are as writers
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5 mos ago
Why are you talking about Final Fantasy 10 like that
5 mos ago
Final Fantasy 13 is a top five entry in the franchise but ya'll still ain't ready to have that conversation
6 mos ago
This Bears/Packers game is gonna make me believe in the power of Chicago Pope
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6 mos ago
The older I get the more I start to think BBQ potato chips are the worst flavor, actually.
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Bio
Look, I got lost on the way to getting some jajangmyeon and it'd be foolish to leave now.
Most Recent Posts
Maybe YOU don't but I'd love Tom Hanks as played by Idris Elba.
Resonance of Fate has a fun, if needlessly systems heavy, battle system but the main draw is playing dress up with your characters.
Oh boy oh boy.
Underrated: Alpha Protocol
Obsidian is an under-appreciated studio. Not only did they make sequels that were better than the games they followed (KOTOR 2, Neverwinter Nights 2, Fallout New Vegas) they also are making decent CRPGs in an era where western RPG means 'BioWare or Skyrim'. Alpha Protocol was a little game that squeaked out in the era of moral choice and it was almost dismissed on launch because though it presented itself like a third person shooter it was truly an RPG at heart. It's an espionage RPG where you play as a secret agent and your skill selection influences the way the mission unfolds which is standard stuff for any decent RPG; Alpha Protocol's other quirk was its choice mechanic. Unlike in other games popular at the time, you know the ones, Alpha Protocol actually made choice matter because things weren't a simple red and blue good and bad response plus you were on a time limit with each and every response long before TellTale made that their only gameplay element. Your choices were important and changed the progression of the plot down to different final bosses and endings and even mission scenarios. The femme fatale you meet on a plane could be an ally or not, the mute assassin could try to kill you or help you out down the line or several other scenarios. It wasn't perfect, in true Obsidian fashion there were bugs and the RPG mechanics were easily broken making for a horribly imbalanced game but the writing and strength of the choice system makes this a game worth playing even today.
Overrated: BioShock Infinite
The first BioShock could go here too but that game wasn't up its own ass the way Infinite was. To this day I'm still not sure why BioShock Infinite set the world on fire critically when it came out. The mechanics of it were mind-numbingly simplistic with the supernatural powers having about three different ways to do the exact same thing and the gunplay being absolutely standard. I guess that must mean the story made up for it but that's impossible because the story presented in Infinite not only makes no sense with its own narrative and rules but it's a very poor introduction to many-worlds theory and the way it plays out is like the game begging you to think it's saying something smart when it isn't. Oh look, another game with a bird and a cage metaphor how fucking symbolic. We have characters talking about different worlds isn't that meta and intelligent and art? Infinite feels like it wants to say something about these themes but never commits to them - and that goes double for the whole race angle that the game is too afraid to actually depict in any capacity other than cartoonishly incompetent. It's a generic shooting game with a poorly constructed narrative and paper thin characters. 10/10 GOTY. And Elizabeth is a garbage tier waifu.
Underrated: Alpha Protocol
Obsidian is an under-appreciated studio. Not only did they make sequels that were better than the games they followed (KOTOR 2, Neverwinter Nights 2, Fallout New Vegas) they also are making decent CRPGs in an era where western RPG means 'BioWare or Skyrim'. Alpha Protocol was a little game that squeaked out in the era of moral choice and it was almost dismissed on launch because though it presented itself like a third person shooter it was truly an RPG at heart. It's an espionage RPG where you play as a secret agent and your skill selection influences the way the mission unfolds which is standard stuff for any decent RPG; Alpha Protocol's other quirk was its choice mechanic. Unlike in other games popular at the time, you know the ones, Alpha Protocol actually made choice matter because things weren't a simple red and blue good and bad response plus you were on a time limit with each and every response long before TellTale made that their only gameplay element. Your choices were important and changed the progression of the plot down to different final bosses and endings and even mission scenarios. The femme fatale you meet on a plane could be an ally or not, the mute assassin could try to kill you or help you out down the line or several other scenarios. It wasn't perfect, in true Obsidian fashion there were bugs and the RPG mechanics were easily broken making for a horribly imbalanced game but the writing and strength of the choice system makes this a game worth playing even today.
Overrated: BioShock Infinite
The first BioShock could go here too but that game wasn't up its own ass the way Infinite was. To this day I'm still not sure why BioShock Infinite set the world on fire critically when it came out. The mechanics of it were mind-numbingly simplistic with the supernatural powers having about three different ways to do the exact same thing and the gunplay being absolutely standard. I guess that must mean the story made up for it but that's impossible because the story presented in Infinite not only makes no sense with its own narrative and rules but it's a very poor introduction to many-worlds theory and the way it plays out is like the game begging you to think it's saying something smart when it isn't. Oh look, another game with a bird and a cage metaphor how fucking symbolic. We have characters talking about different worlds isn't that meta and intelligent and art? Infinite feels like it wants to say something about these themes but never commits to them - and that goes double for the whole race angle that the game is too afraid to actually depict in any capacity other than cartoonishly incompetent. It's a generic shooting game with a poorly constructed narrative and paper thin characters. 10/10 GOTY. And Elizabeth is a garbage tier waifu.
This sounds interesting
This seems kind of neato. If it's still looking for people I think I might be interested
I said it would happen and it did. Word.
Location: Nowhere Nice
Interacting with: Does Anyone Even HAVE Her On Facebook?
I'm too fucked up to dance; so I'mma sit with my hand down the front of my pants
There was a singular sound as one heavy object collided with a handful of other, less heavy objects; following the echoed collision came a soft mechanical whirring that got lost in the overhead sounds of a comical animation indicating the type of collision that just happened. Normally the sounds on the hanging monitors were drowned out in a sea of crashes, claps, and blaring top forty music from the jukebox near the front but the perk of employee privilege meant Kenzi could hang out at the King Pin before opening. It didn't exactly make up for the other aspects of the job, namely having to be treated like some uneducated loser by the leagues while also trying to have school mates attempt to get a discount from her. She always got a laugh out of that one; during school hours she might as well have been a police zone with how everyone went out of their way to avoid her but as soon as she had something they wanted it was like they were best friends. It was the only bit of power she had at the job and she took a unique sort of delight in telling the students searching for Kenzi's Discount to fuck off and rent some shoes already.
Sometimes she didn't even bother spraying them before renting them out.
Kenzi had been working at the King Pin for almost half a year now; she lied on the application and told the manager or the owner or whoever that she was sixteen when at the time she was a few months shy. She was sixteen now, of course, but what was the harm in getting a little experience even if it meant skirting the bounds of the law. She hated it but it came with the benefit of not having to go home after school to be grilled by her mother. When Kenzi first got the job and started coming home later and later, Amber Lin assumed her youngest daughter was involved with drugs, much like Kenzi's older sister Kim had been. It wasn't until Kenzi's sixteenth birthday that Kenzi came forth with the sad truth. Amber had been upset and even demanded Kenzi quit up until Kenzi made up some bullshit about a part time job looking good on a college application. That had made Kenzi laugh internally; as if she was going to go to college. It wasn't in her plan, if nothing more than a longshot goal could be considered a plan.
In the months since her hiring, Kenzi did her work with only a few incidents, for all intents and purposes she was a fine employee, if a bit mouthy with some of the more rude customers since that was the only way to get them to shut up. Since she had been a decent enough employee the owner saw fit to give Kenzi a set of keys so she could lock up after her shifts. It was those keys that allowed her to enter before opening. The King Pin was not a place Kenzi particularly enjoyed, but then she didn't enjoy any place really, but it was nice to have a place to escape for a while. No one could bother her before opening hours and as far as she knew no one in her classes - the ones she attended - hung out here since there was a very strict no underage drinking policy and if there was one thing high school kids around here liked it was not going fucking bowling. The few stragglers from the school that did come were no one she recognized. Which wasn't saying much since she wouldn't recognize any of her classmates without being told. They didn't make an effort to include her, she didn't make an effort to remember them and thus it was.
The red bowling ball zoomed back up to the alley as the pins were reset. Kenzi fingered the ball and tossed it down the alley. Another crash and the pins fell over to the fanfare of the television hanging overhead. That was the tenth frame and the game was over. Her score didn't matter; Kenzi didn't even much like bowling but it was something to do away from people. It got her out of the house and it gave her time to just be by herself, where she didn't feel the need to act differently or drown in the pressure of parental conformity.
As Kenzi shut down her lane and put the ball back on the rack, she heard the alert tone of her phone. That was strange. Most alerts she got were emails in her spam folder or her mother asking where she was and when she was coming home. Curiosity got the best of her but all it got her was a deep sigh; all it was was a notification to update her Facebook app. There was no point in doing it. Sure, Kenzi had an account but her friend list was in the single digits. Zero counted as a digit, surely. She wasn't going to update it, she never used the thing.
It was early yet and though she had the keys to the door, the boss still didn't like it when the employees abused the power that the keys had. Kenzi just wanted to get away from home. From school. From responsibilities. Even if only for an hour or so. It was early yet and bowling a game in silence and solitude was almost cathartic. All she had to worry about was picking up a spare. Not her grades. Not her mother. Not her sister. Not the fucking talent show incident that she still got shit for. Just ten pins and a ten pound ball.
Kenzi hit the lights as she left. The King Pin would open up later. It was early and there was probably enough change in her pocket to snag a McMuffin or some shit. There was nothing else to do.
Kenzi was starting to understand why her sister turned to sex and drugs and dropping out. At least then every day was something different.
With hands thrust firmly in the pockets of her jacket, Kenzi stepped out into the crisp cool morning air, ready to face another day of nothingness and isolation.
She'd have to remember that phrase in the future. It would make for a good song name.
I'm gonna have a Kenzi post up by fuckin Wednesday mark my words
And there's a post
a collab with @Bee
______________
There’s little in the way of fanfare as the pounding bass and hard hitting flow drones out, announcing the presence of someone who was clearly not one the gathered crowd was interested in seeing. Standing on the ramp, basked in the singular spotlight illuminating her, was a woman whose first identifiable feature was the crimson of her lips against the pale tone that was her skin. Her attire caught the light as well, making the all black outfit shine thanks to its sheen.
The black jacket with engraved white sleeves was hanging off her already, more for style than function, and her style was certainly on display; from the sleeveless top that rested above her navel, to the equally black pair of shorts that matched the near thigh-high boots; as far as attire went it was hardly conventional, but it was clear from the makeup and accessories that this was a woman who cared more about the style than the usability.
There was purpose in her stance, as she stood there in the spotlight listening to the thumping notes of her music. The thin fingers of her right hand were curled around a microphone and she lifted her left hand, closing it into a fist to kill the music. She had all the time in the world between here and the ring, and she was going to use every moment of it.
”I don’t know about you all but I’m bored. I’m bored of what passes for talent in the women’s locker room - though let’s not pretend the men are doing much better. How could I NOT be, with what slim pickings there are. Never in my life have I seen a larger gathering of basic bitches and fakers failing - or sleeping - their way upwards. And I come from Los Angeles, where every corner coffee shop or restaurant has ten women waiting for the casting call before deciding to take the backroom casting couch call. You all know the one.”
Death Adder was slowly making her way to the ring, having the audience’s attention if not their approval. It didn’t matter, she wasn’t here to garner applause.
”Of course we all know someone that’s very familiar with backroom couches. Honey, just because you’re a champion at throating doesn’t make you a champion of a division, title or not. When the boss of a company has his secretary take some dictation under a desk, she doesn’t get a promotion. Hell, she doesn’t even get respect. Calling yourself a queen doesn’t make it true, no matter how many metaphors or overpriced chairs you buy. People don’t boo you because they’re jealous or they’re haters, or whatever garbage you tell yourself to pretend it doesn’t bother you. They boo you because the most interesting thing about you is Drayden. The only thing you bring to the ring, queenie is something they can get better with a Google search, some privacy, and a box of Kleenex; and it’d be more stimulating and interesting than anything you’ve done in what you call your ‘career’.”
“But of course, one can’t talk about the wannabe queen without bringing up the other girl playing like this is high school politics and cliques all over again. For every preppy whore there’s the gothic creep that just discovered that ankhs and crosses go great with a helping of angst. The two of you can’t seem to co-exist, between the petty jabs of princess plastic and the poor-man’s bdsm styling of miss mixed metaphors. And you’d think they’d get along so well, what with them having so many things in common. Lack of talent, inability to enthrall, deep rooted daddy issues expressing themselves in different ways… Honey, no one’s afraid of you or your elementary use of mix-matched imagery. Here’s an idea. Go hook up with the rest of your little wiccan friends and conjure up an original personality. At least your dad had the good sense to rip off Jason Voorhes - people actually liked those movies.”
Though she was now circling the ring, Death Adder was not done. There were more than just two of the easiest targets possible. Who hadn’t had a go at the top slags of the company?
”Of course, I mentioned that I was bored of the division and nowhere is that more obvious than the personification of boredom that is miss can’t choose a career path. What, was the military too normal for you? Was it too hard to get beaten senseless by people who actually care enough to do something they believe in? How long is it going to take before you decide that the AWE isn’t for you? As soon as you start to lose over and over again? I thought the military was supposed to instill discipline and responsibility, yet did I not hear you go on and blame Jennifer’s Frumpy Body for you losing to a damn mute and Sailor Moon. The big strong soldier can’t fight her own battles. Boo hoo. I give it six months and continued losses before you move on to something else you can get bored of because of a lack of competence. You don’t care about this place, G.I. Jane. So do us all a favor and muscle your way out of here.”
“Oh, I’m not done. Not at all. Because for as utterly devoid of originality that the terrible trio might be, at least they do something, which is more than I can say for the god damn kindergarten class that exists back there. I thought this was a wrestling company, not AnimeCon with special guest literally who and the cosplayer with an alias about as decent as Hot Topic’s dye job. I’m sure hurricane otaku and still illegal in all fifty states fox-girl will do something to make us all collectively snore as soon as they’re done gushing over their magical girl collection. I wasn’t aware we were in a constant state of bring your child to work day.”
“But then how else am I supposed to account for nepotism given flesh and named after the ugly girl from The Matrix. I’m sure you’re doing your family proud, dear, you’re about as mediocre as the lot of them; doing the family name proud, you are. Given your sister’s lack of charisma during interviews maybe you’re the one that got the spurt of talent from your parents. Because one of you has to live up to the legacy of being absolutely forgetful, right?”
Having made her way through the roster in various forms, Adder finally took a moment to pause and take in the negative response to her string of insults. And yet she still lifted the mic to her lips once more, complete with a lethal smirk.
”And because I have each and every one of you fraudulent, boring, basic bitches pegged, I know that none of you are going to do anything about it. Barbie can’t even jump without Ken around to catch her, Morgana’s too busy taking notes on horror movies to rip off - when she should be taking notes on how to call bitches out from yours truly, but then she’d be made even MORE unoriginal. Sydney can’t find the time between lifting a dumbbell and flipping through a job booklet and the others? They’ve got homework and a curfew to worry about. But all of them, every single one - even the weird mute - would all say the exact same thing in response to my words here. Some junk about me being jealous, or a hater, or how it doesn’t bother them, the same exact spiel they spout night after night like the broken records that is their entire careers.”
“Which is why I’m putting the entire division on blast right here and right now. Show me that there’s more to any of you than your sub-par looks and your below-par personalities. But of course you won’t. None of you will. Because, like I said at the start, you’re all so utterly boring. Prove me wrong.”
With her statement of intent clear, the venomous Death Adder dropped her jacket as well as the microphone, widening her smirk and watching the ramp for anyone. The entire division was on her notice now, it was only a matter of time before they all felt the sting.
After hearing the challenge from Death Adder, Tsunami felt her blood boil after what witnessing what she had done to her allies. No one runs in on her allies like that without getting a piece of what Tsunami did best. She stood up from her seat on the couch and made her way to the main stage. She was seeing red and quite honestly wanted to beat the living shit out of Death Adder.
Walking up to the curtain, she put her hands on her hips and waited for her music to start playing. Standing there, looking down and swaying idly, she finally heard that sweet, sweet guitar riff and dashed outside. She still had to give the crowd a show, though. Tsunami came out, her arms raised and getting the crowd amped up as she went over to the side and gave a couple of people high fives, before going to the other side and doing the same to another few lucky fans.
With her entrance ritual finally over with, Tsunami stared down Death Adder wherever she was and made her way there, knowing that all she wanted to do was to get redemption for her friends.
For a moment, however brief, there was a smile on the Adder’s crimson lips. Of all the women backstage, of all the little wannabes and try-hards this was who answered the call? Under normal circumstances Adder might even have given Tsunami the smallest of props for having the fortitude and bravery to answer the challenge. It took some sort of moxie to essentially sign one’s own death warrant. Death Adder’s smirk dropped almost as soon as her fake clapping had. There was no time to waste on words or remarks; this was a statement, after all. And when one made a statement of intent, one didn’t have the luxury of wasting time.
As the stare-off, such as it was, ended, it was the venomous snake that pounced first, practically bounding forward to chop at Tsunami hard, swift, and fierce. There would be nothing pretty about this fight if Adder had her way. As far as the snake was concerned, the other woman was merely a rat wandering too close to a hunger predator.
Death Adder lunged forward at Tsunami, tying them up into a single collar tie. She tried shifting her weight to the right side to try to get her opponent off balance. Throwing a few uppercuts from the clinch she pulled Death Adder’s arm as if she was trying to drag it down. However, she instead transitioned into a hammerlock in the standing position. Pushing forward a bit, she let go with one arm to grasp around the hip, before letting go of the grip and wrapping her arms around Death Adder’s hip.
Twisting upwards, Tsunami arced her back into a German Suplex. Just as she was about to hit the apex, she released Death Adder from her grip at the appropriate time so that she would go flying. Landing on her belly, Tsunami was quick to get up and go to the ropes. She bounded off of them, dashing towards Death Adder so that she could drop her with an elbow, hopefully.
Adder was on her back with a hard landing, only adding fuel to the fire that was slowly rising in her soul. She didn’t wait around for the follow-up elbow, spotting it coming and rolling onto her stomach in time to avoid the impact. Pressing her palms to the mat, she hoisted herself back up and kept her gaze ever locked on Tsunami. An inch couldn’t be given, nor would she give it. Still, she waited until Tsunami was getting up, only to pounce forward again - this time with a knee aimed squarely at the other competitor’s head.
Death Adder wanted Tsunami on the mat, down on the ground where she belonged.
As Tsunami went for the elbow, she failed to realize that Death Adder had rolled away before it was too late, and she landed on the mat hard. She recoiled in pain and groaned, grabbing her elbow before eyeing Death Adder.
She posted up with both hands, not even having time to get herself situated before her opponent came at her like a cobra. And then came the knee. The knee hit Tsunami and she fell backwards, lying on her back and breathing hard as she was trying to recover quick enough. But the knee had caught her off guard and she was stuck recovering from the attack.
There was no point in celebrating a hit, not when it meant it was time to follow it up. No grandstanding. No taunting. Just precision. Adder stood over Tsunami, her lips twisted in a foul grin, standing out amidst the pale complexion of her skin, like a hawk circling its prey. The serpent in the grass lifted a foot to stomp at Tsunami’s arm. What better way to make an example than by crippling such necessary tools.
As she stomped, Death Adder felt a unique sort of glee, and she wore it on her face like a badge of honor. The stomps were quick. At the moment, it was all she was focusing on. The feeling of stomping a limb beneath her boot. It took the referee stepping in and forcing Adder to stop before she backed up, still smirking, still leering towards Tsunami, daring the girl to swing back.
Watching Death Adder circle around her did not bode well for Tsunami. She was helpless at this moment, and there were a variety of things she could do to take advantage of the momentum she had just received. It could’ve ranged from a dropkick to a full press. She looked at Death Adder, but refused to show any fear knowing that it was what Death Adder wanted.
Feeling her get closer and her shadow looming over her, Tsunami didn’t know what to expect next. Then came the stomp, the loud crashing of boot to her arm. Tsunami recoiled and grabbed her arm in pain, groaning loudly going into a fetal position of sorts as she clutched her arm. Taking the pain, she rolled to a turtle position, before getting up. She was breathing hard, building up energy for her next bout of offense.
She lunged toward Death Adder with an elbow, using the arm that her opponent had stepped on earlier. Tsunami then quickly followed up with a roundhouse kick to the abdomen, before tying Death Adder up into a single collar tie yet again.
So there was still fight to be had in Tsunami - admirable, but ultimately pointless as far as the Adder was concerned. The scared mouse could take swipes but in the end it would still succumb. Adder reeled back when the elbow collided with her, then doubled over in response to the roundhouse. Exquisite. The spark of a fight, however fleeting, made all the difference in these situations. It would’ve been boring otherwise.
But the mistake was in bringing Adder so close. Though they were locked in a tie, Adder was still smiling, damn near laughing, the way one does when they know they have the upper hand. It happened suddenly, and just out of the eyeshot of the referee. When the collar tie was locked in, Death Adder delivered a shot of Venom. Quick and purple, just enough to be aggravating. Never corner a venomous snake.
The laughing from Death Adder was ominous, giving Tsunami a sinking feeling in her stomach before all she could see was purple. She let go of the tie and covered her eyes, selling it by groaning in pain and trying to get the furthest from Death Adder as she could. She still couldn’t see, and eventually she found herself on the ropes. Death Adder was definitely like a Cobra, but Tsunami was the Mongoose to the Cobra.
She glanced at Death Adder, her vision still slightly unclear from the venom attack from earlier. She rolled out of the mat and onto the floor, trying to take things out of the ring.
Running away or a tactical retreat? It didn’t matter where Tsunami went, Death was sure to follow. After taking a moment to admire the way in which Tsunami was clearly in pain, clearly feeling the effects of the Venom, Death Adder followed along, stepping through the ropes and outside of the ring in hot pursuit. Out here, the rules were different as far as Adder was concerned. She could hear the disapproval of the rubes in the audience and that only made her more eager to kill this inferior specimen.
Death Adder came up behind Tsunami, grabbing her by the neck with a loud, sinister laugh. There was no elegance or technical skill behind the hold, just a raw, brutal sort of application, and her intent was clear from the jump. Adder had every intention of using this leverage to throw Tsunami into the security barricade. Out here, this was no longer a match. It was, in the eyes of the Adder, lawless. This was a brawl now.
Landing against the security barrier, Tsunami recoiled in pain once again as she bounced back onto the floor. She lied on her belly, putting her arm up and trying desperately to get herself back up, but she couldn’t. Tsunami was stunned from the impact. She glanced up at Death Adder. She was strong for sure. But, Tsunami had been through worse. She figured that she had to change up the strategy in order to break through Death Adder’s overwhelming confidence.
Tsunami slowly mustered up strength to get back up, the crowd’s energy surging as she got back up. Breathing heavily, she summoned the energy to start sprinting. The wrestler put her leg on Death Adder’s leg, before going for the enzuigiri. If it worked, Tsunami had every intention in the world to try to pull off a gutbuster on Death Adder and reciprocate the damage and pain that she had inflicted on her.
After Tsunami hit the barrier, Adder was widening her grin. The way the body bounced and fell...the subtle sounds as the plucky little prey hit the ground...it was sweeter than any symphony. In the eyes of the predatory Death Adder, the sight of a loved member of the roster on the ground in pain was a victory in and of itself. She was reveling in the sounds of disapproval. She was taking pride in her handiwork. And she was savoring the moment before going in for the kill.
But the moment to bask in her brief success was met only with a kick to the head. The brief moment of pause was enough for the fight or flight instincts in the little mouse to kick in, and presently the switch was flipped to fight. In an instant, the predator was doubled over and then being dropped in kind, now on the floor in a bursting sting of pain. She could hear the swinging change to the crowd, happy that the hunter was being shown the floor. It wouldn’t end like that. Tsunami might have fought back and taken the advantage but in the process she made one major mistake.
She made Death Adder angry.
No more admiration. No more pausing to appreciate the aesthetics of a beaten idol. The Adder would slowly rise to one knee, eyes glaring towards Tsunami, and like a snake coiled and ready, she would make a move to strike, To pounce and to simply do whatever it took to strike at and drop this little upstart.
Abandoning the plan to hit a gutbuster, Tsunami backed up and gave Death Adder some space, after learning her lesson with the sudden venom attack. She took a deep breath, watching her and studying whatever she was doing. Watching her pounce, Tsunami failed to react accordingly and was hit by Death Adder’s burst of offense.
Tsunami stumbled back a bit, trying to make sure that she didn’t outright lose her balance. This had turned into a brawl, and Tsunami was more than willing to bring it to Death Adder. The distance between them was closed, coming in with a superman punch and then following with a rolling savate to the body. Backing away Tsunami was trying to figure out what else she could do to Death Adder, weary of the many tricks she had up her sleeves.
Whatever tricks were in the Adder’s bag remained tucked inside - ever since leaving the safety of the ring all pretense of elegance or by-the-books encounters were tossed aside. After being hit back with a hard punch and a kick, Adder only glared towards Tsunami - after gritting her teeth and grunting once the blows had subsided. One good turn deserved another and the space between them was again diminished as this time it was the coiled strike of the serpent taking her chance.
Like a sudden sting, so too did Adder jump forth - partially out of desperation - to use her momentum to bring Tsunami to the ground just to start giving mounted punches to the spry woman’s face. Adder’s brow was furrowed and her gaze murderous. Whatever it took to mop up Tsunami, Death Adder was going to find it. Or die trying.
Taken back by Adder’s takedown, she was helpless on her back. She tried to wiggle her way out of the position but she couldn't. This position usually meant she was going to be in some pain very, very soon. There was too much that she could do from this position.
Putting her arms up, she shielded herself from the onslaught of punches. Some went through some were blocked. Tsunami was now put into a position where she had to be more and more desperate. She put her arm on Adder’s abdomen, trying to get her to stand straight up so Tsunami could wiggle her way out. But just as she tried to do so, the bell rang and the referee was waving his hands as if the match was over. Tsunami was confused, but then she realized where she was and sighed in disappointment.
They had both counted themselves out, and neither had won the match.
Even after the bell sounded and the double count-out was ruled, Adder was smirking. To her it wasn’t about winning or losing, it had all been about making a statement. Her final message was a final, definitive punch before standing up to the chorus of boos. She looked over her handiwork, the young Tsunami on the ground, and again Death Adder grinned like a sinister villain. Her grin never faded, even as she walked her way back up the ramp.
Her job was done for the night.
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There’s little in the way of fanfare as the pounding bass and hard hitting flow drones out, announcing the presence of someone who was clearly not one the gathered crowd was interested in seeing. Standing on the ramp, basked in the singular spotlight illuminating her, was a woman whose first identifiable feature was the crimson of her lips against the pale tone that was her skin. Her attire caught the light as well, making the all black outfit shine thanks to its sheen.
The black jacket with engraved white sleeves was hanging off her already, more for style than function, and her style was certainly on display; from the sleeveless top that rested above her navel, to the equally black pair of shorts that matched the near thigh-high boots; as far as attire went it was hardly conventional, but it was clear from the makeup and accessories that this was a woman who cared more about the style than the usability.
There was purpose in her stance, as she stood there in the spotlight listening to the thumping notes of her music. The thin fingers of her right hand were curled around a microphone and she lifted her left hand, closing it into a fist to kill the music. She had all the time in the world between here and the ring, and she was going to use every moment of it.
”I don’t know about you all but I’m bored. I’m bored of what passes for talent in the women’s locker room - though let’s not pretend the men are doing much better. How could I NOT be, with what slim pickings there are. Never in my life have I seen a larger gathering of basic bitches and fakers failing - or sleeping - their way upwards. And I come from Los Angeles, where every corner coffee shop or restaurant has ten women waiting for the casting call before deciding to take the backroom casting couch call. You all know the one.”
Death Adder was slowly making her way to the ring, having the audience’s attention if not their approval. It didn’t matter, she wasn’t here to garner applause.
”Of course we all know someone that’s very familiar with backroom couches. Honey, just because you’re a champion at throating doesn’t make you a champion of a division, title or not. When the boss of a company has his secretary take some dictation under a desk, she doesn’t get a promotion. Hell, she doesn’t even get respect. Calling yourself a queen doesn’t make it true, no matter how many metaphors or overpriced chairs you buy. People don’t boo you because they’re jealous or they’re haters, or whatever garbage you tell yourself to pretend it doesn’t bother you. They boo you because the most interesting thing about you is Drayden. The only thing you bring to the ring, queenie is something they can get better with a Google search, some privacy, and a box of Kleenex; and it’d be more stimulating and interesting than anything you’ve done in what you call your ‘career’.”
“But of course, one can’t talk about the wannabe queen without bringing up the other girl playing like this is high school politics and cliques all over again. For every preppy whore there’s the gothic creep that just discovered that ankhs and crosses go great with a helping of angst. The two of you can’t seem to co-exist, between the petty jabs of princess plastic and the poor-man’s bdsm styling of miss mixed metaphors. And you’d think they’d get along so well, what with them having so many things in common. Lack of talent, inability to enthrall, deep rooted daddy issues expressing themselves in different ways… Honey, no one’s afraid of you or your elementary use of mix-matched imagery. Here’s an idea. Go hook up with the rest of your little wiccan friends and conjure up an original personality. At least your dad had the good sense to rip off Jason Voorhes - people actually liked those movies.”
Though she was now circling the ring, Death Adder was not done. There were more than just two of the easiest targets possible. Who hadn’t had a go at the top slags of the company?
”Of course, I mentioned that I was bored of the division and nowhere is that more obvious than the personification of boredom that is miss can’t choose a career path. What, was the military too normal for you? Was it too hard to get beaten senseless by people who actually care enough to do something they believe in? How long is it going to take before you decide that the AWE isn’t for you? As soon as you start to lose over and over again? I thought the military was supposed to instill discipline and responsibility, yet did I not hear you go on and blame Jennifer’s Frumpy Body for you losing to a damn mute and Sailor Moon. The big strong soldier can’t fight her own battles. Boo hoo. I give it six months and continued losses before you move on to something else you can get bored of because of a lack of competence. You don’t care about this place, G.I. Jane. So do us all a favor and muscle your way out of here.”
“Oh, I’m not done. Not at all. Because for as utterly devoid of originality that the terrible trio might be, at least they do something, which is more than I can say for the god damn kindergarten class that exists back there. I thought this was a wrestling company, not AnimeCon with special guest literally who and the cosplayer with an alias about as decent as Hot Topic’s dye job. I’m sure hurricane otaku and still illegal in all fifty states fox-girl will do something to make us all collectively snore as soon as they’re done gushing over their magical girl collection. I wasn’t aware we were in a constant state of bring your child to work day.”
“But then how else am I supposed to account for nepotism given flesh and named after the ugly girl from The Matrix. I’m sure you’re doing your family proud, dear, you’re about as mediocre as the lot of them; doing the family name proud, you are. Given your sister’s lack of charisma during interviews maybe you’re the one that got the spurt of talent from your parents. Because one of you has to live up to the legacy of being absolutely forgetful, right?”
Having made her way through the roster in various forms, Adder finally took a moment to pause and take in the negative response to her string of insults. And yet she still lifted the mic to her lips once more, complete with a lethal smirk.
”And because I have each and every one of you fraudulent, boring, basic bitches pegged, I know that none of you are going to do anything about it. Barbie can’t even jump without Ken around to catch her, Morgana’s too busy taking notes on horror movies to rip off - when she should be taking notes on how to call bitches out from yours truly, but then she’d be made even MORE unoriginal. Sydney can’t find the time between lifting a dumbbell and flipping through a job booklet and the others? They’ve got homework and a curfew to worry about. But all of them, every single one - even the weird mute - would all say the exact same thing in response to my words here. Some junk about me being jealous, or a hater, or how it doesn’t bother them, the same exact spiel they spout night after night like the broken records that is their entire careers.”
“Which is why I’m putting the entire division on blast right here and right now. Show me that there’s more to any of you than your sub-par looks and your below-par personalities. But of course you won’t. None of you will. Because, like I said at the start, you’re all so utterly boring. Prove me wrong.”
With her statement of intent clear, the venomous Death Adder dropped her jacket as well as the microphone, widening her smirk and watching the ramp for anyone. The entire division was on her notice now, it was only a matter of time before they all felt the sting.
After hearing the challenge from Death Adder, Tsunami felt her blood boil after what witnessing what she had done to her allies. No one runs in on her allies like that without getting a piece of what Tsunami did best. She stood up from her seat on the couch and made her way to the main stage. She was seeing red and quite honestly wanted to beat the living shit out of Death Adder.
Walking up to the curtain, she put her hands on her hips and waited for her music to start playing. Standing there, looking down and swaying idly, she finally heard that sweet, sweet guitar riff and dashed outside. She still had to give the crowd a show, though. Tsunami came out, her arms raised and getting the crowd amped up as she went over to the side and gave a couple of people high fives, before going to the other side and doing the same to another few lucky fans.
With her entrance ritual finally over with, Tsunami stared down Death Adder wherever she was and made her way there, knowing that all she wanted to do was to get redemption for her friends.
For a moment, however brief, there was a smile on the Adder’s crimson lips. Of all the women backstage, of all the little wannabes and try-hards this was who answered the call? Under normal circumstances Adder might even have given Tsunami the smallest of props for having the fortitude and bravery to answer the challenge. It took some sort of moxie to essentially sign one’s own death warrant. Death Adder’s smirk dropped almost as soon as her fake clapping had. There was no time to waste on words or remarks; this was a statement, after all. And when one made a statement of intent, one didn’t have the luxury of wasting time.
As the stare-off, such as it was, ended, it was the venomous snake that pounced first, practically bounding forward to chop at Tsunami hard, swift, and fierce. There would be nothing pretty about this fight if Adder had her way. As far as the snake was concerned, the other woman was merely a rat wandering too close to a hunger predator.
Death Adder lunged forward at Tsunami, tying them up into a single collar tie. She tried shifting her weight to the right side to try to get her opponent off balance. Throwing a few uppercuts from the clinch she pulled Death Adder’s arm as if she was trying to drag it down. However, she instead transitioned into a hammerlock in the standing position. Pushing forward a bit, she let go with one arm to grasp around the hip, before letting go of the grip and wrapping her arms around Death Adder’s hip.
Twisting upwards, Tsunami arced her back into a German Suplex. Just as she was about to hit the apex, she released Death Adder from her grip at the appropriate time so that she would go flying. Landing on her belly, Tsunami was quick to get up and go to the ropes. She bounded off of them, dashing towards Death Adder so that she could drop her with an elbow, hopefully.
Adder was on her back with a hard landing, only adding fuel to the fire that was slowly rising in her soul. She didn’t wait around for the follow-up elbow, spotting it coming and rolling onto her stomach in time to avoid the impact. Pressing her palms to the mat, she hoisted herself back up and kept her gaze ever locked on Tsunami. An inch couldn’t be given, nor would she give it. Still, she waited until Tsunami was getting up, only to pounce forward again - this time with a knee aimed squarely at the other competitor’s head.
Death Adder wanted Tsunami on the mat, down on the ground where she belonged.
As Tsunami went for the elbow, she failed to realize that Death Adder had rolled away before it was too late, and she landed on the mat hard. She recoiled in pain and groaned, grabbing her elbow before eyeing Death Adder.
She posted up with both hands, not even having time to get herself situated before her opponent came at her like a cobra. And then came the knee. The knee hit Tsunami and she fell backwards, lying on her back and breathing hard as she was trying to recover quick enough. But the knee had caught her off guard and she was stuck recovering from the attack.
There was no point in celebrating a hit, not when it meant it was time to follow it up. No grandstanding. No taunting. Just precision. Adder stood over Tsunami, her lips twisted in a foul grin, standing out amidst the pale complexion of her skin, like a hawk circling its prey. The serpent in the grass lifted a foot to stomp at Tsunami’s arm. What better way to make an example than by crippling such necessary tools.
As she stomped, Death Adder felt a unique sort of glee, and she wore it on her face like a badge of honor. The stomps were quick. At the moment, it was all she was focusing on. The feeling of stomping a limb beneath her boot. It took the referee stepping in and forcing Adder to stop before she backed up, still smirking, still leering towards Tsunami, daring the girl to swing back.
Watching Death Adder circle around her did not bode well for Tsunami. She was helpless at this moment, and there were a variety of things she could do to take advantage of the momentum she had just received. It could’ve ranged from a dropkick to a full press. She looked at Death Adder, but refused to show any fear knowing that it was what Death Adder wanted.
Feeling her get closer and her shadow looming over her, Tsunami didn’t know what to expect next. Then came the stomp, the loud crashing of boot to her arm. Tsunami recoiled and grabbed her arm in pain, groaning loudly going into a fetal position of sorts as she clutched her arm. Taking the pain, she rolled to a turtle position, before getting up. She was breathing hard, building up energy for her next bout of offense.
She lunged toward Death Adder with an elbow, using the arm that her opponent had stepped on earlier. Tsunami then quickly followed up with a roundhouse kick to the abdomen, before tying Death Adder up into a single collar tie yet again.
So there was still fight to be had in Tsunami - admirable, but ultimately pointless as far as the Adder was concerned. The scared mouse could take swipes but in the end it would still succumb. Adder reeled back when the elbow collided with her, then doubled over in response to the roundhouse. Exquisite. The spark of a fight, however fleeting, made all the difference in these situations. It would’ve been boring otherwise.
But the mistake was in bringing Adder so close. Though they were locked in a tie, Adder was still smiling, damn near laughing, the way one does when they know they have the upper hand. It happened suddenly, and just out of the eyeshot of the referee. When the collar tie was locked in, Death Adder delivered a shot of Venom. Quick and purple, just enough to be aggravating. Never corner a venomous snake.
The laughing from Death Adder was ominous, giving Tsunami a sinking feeling in her stomach before all she could see was purple. She let go of the tie and covered her eyes, selling it by groaning in pain and trying to get the furthest from Death Adder as she could. She still couldn’t see, and eventually she found herself on the ropes. Death Adder was definitely like a Cobra, but Tsunami was the Mongoose to the Cobra.
She glanced at Death Adder, her vision still slightly unclear from the venom attack from earlier. She rolled out of the mat and onto the floor, trying to take things out of the ring.
Running away or a tactical retreat? It didn’t matter where Tsunami went, Death was sure to follow. After taking a moment to admire the way in which Tsunami was clearly in pain, clearly feeling the effects of the Venom, Death Adder followed along, stepping through the ropes and outside of the ring in hot pursuit. Out here, the rules were different as far as Adder was concerned. She could hear the disapproval of the rubes in the audience and that only made her more eager to kill this inferior specimen.
Death Adder came up behind Tsunami, grabbing her by the neck with a loud, sinister laugh. There was no elegance or technical skill behind the hold, just a raw, brutal sort of application, and her intent was clear from the jump. Adder had every intention of using this leverage to throw Tsunami into the security barricade. Out here, this was no longer a match. It was, in the eyes of the Adder, lawless. This was a brawl now.
Landing against the security barrier, Tsunami recoiled in pain once again as she bounced back onto the floor. She lied on her belly, putting her arm up and trying desperately to get herself back up, but she couldn’t. Tsunami was stunned from the impact. She glanced up at Death Adder. She was strong for sure. But, Tsunami had been through worse. She figured that she had to change up the strategy in order to break through Death Adder’s overwhelming confidence.
Tsunami slowly mustered up strength to get back up, the crowd’s energy surging as she got back up. Breathing heavily, she summoned the energy to start sprinting. The wrestler put her leg on Death Adder’s leg, before going for the enzuigiri. If it worked, Tsunami had every intention in the world to try to pull off a gutbuster on Death Adder and reciprocate the damage and pain that she had inflicted on her.
After Tsunami hit the barrier, Adder was widening her grin. The way the body bounced and fell...the subtle sounds as the plucky little prey hit the ground...it was sweeter than any symphony. In the eyes of the predatory Death Adder, the sight of a loved member of the roster on the ground in pain was a victory in and of itself. She was reveling in the sounds of disapproval. She was taking pride in her handiwork. And she was savoring the moment before going in for the kill.
But the moment to bask in her brief success was met only with a kick to the head. The brief moment of pause was enough for the fight or flight instincts in the little mouse to kick in, and presently the switch was flipped to fight. In an instant, the predator was doubled over and then being dropped in kind, now on the floor in a bursting sting of pain. She could hear the swinging change to the crowd, happy that the hunter was being shown the floor. It wouldn’t end like that. Tsunami might have fought back and taken the advantage but in the process she made one major mistake.
She made Death Adder angry.
No more admiration. No more pausing to appreciate the aesthetics of a beaten idol. The Adder would slowly rise to one knee, eyes glaring towards Tsunami, and like a snake coiled and ready, she would make a move to strike, To pounce and to simply do whatever it took to strike at and drop this little upstart.
Abandoning the plan to hit a gutbuster, Tsunami backed up and gave Death Adder some space, after learning her lesson with the sudden venom attack. She took a deep breath, watching her and studying whatever she was doing. Watching her pounce, Tsunami failed to react accordingly and was hit by Death Adder’s burst of offense.
Tsunami stumbled back a bit, trying to make sure that she didn’t outright lose her balance. This had turned into a brawl, and Tsunami was more than willing to bring it to Death Adder. The distance between them was closed, coming in with a superman punch and then following with a rolling savate to the body. Backing away Tsunami was trying to figure out what else she could do to Death Adder, weary of the many tricks she had up her sleeves.
Whatever tricks were in the Adder’s bag remained tucked inside - ever since leaving the safety of the ring all pretense of elegance or by-the-books encounters were tossed aside. After being hit back with a hard punch and a kick, Adder only glared towards Tsunami - after gritting her teeth and grunting once the blows had subsided. One good turn deserved another and the space between them was again diminished as this time it was the coiled strike of the serpent taking her chance.
Like a sudden sting, so too did Adder jump forth - partially out of desperation - to use her momentum to bring Tsunami to the ground just to start giving mounted punches to the spry woman’s face. Adder’s brow was furrowed and her gaze murderous. Whatever it took to mop up Tsunami, Death Adder was going to find it. Or die trying.
Taken back by Adder’s takedown, she was helpless on her back. She tried to wiggle her way out of the position but she couldn't. This position usually meant she was going to be in some pain very, very soon. There was too much that she could do from this position.
Putting her arms up, she shielded herself from the onslaught of punches. Some went through some were blocked. Tsunami was now put into a position where she had to be more and more desperate. She put her arm on Adder’s abdomen, trying to get her to stand straight up so Tsunami could wiggle her way out. But just as she tried to do so, the bell rang and the referee was waving his hands as if the match was over. Tsunami was confused, but then she realized where she was and sighed in disappointment.
They had both counted themselves out, and neither had won the match.
Even after the bell sounded and the double count-out was ruled, Adder was smirking. To her it wasn’t about winning or losing, it had all been about making a statement. Her final message was a final, definitive punch before standing up to the chorus of boos. She looked over her handiwork, the young Tsunami on the ground, and again Death Adder grinned like a sinister villain. Her grin never faded, even as she walked her way back up the ramp.
Her job was done for the night.
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