Description: Hosted by the CWA, rising luchadora La Cascabel faces off against the Lone Wolf Sven Maesters for a chance to rise in the Neo-League standings. Win or lose, are any of them capable enough to bring the SLAM?! <Winner: Sven>
Welcome to CAPCOM WRESTLING ASSOCIATION's first new program of the year Two Thousand and Fifteen: NEW YEAR'S *PAI*N.
This is actually just the latest episode of CWA's usual program for Fridays. It hasn't been the biggest action of the season, but Saturday Night Fight is in abeyance for the holiday in order to focus on a bunch of schoolchildren having slapfights in Japan. For those who do NOT watch the Japanese programming, there's this.
Behind the divider leading into the NY*P* ring, Mano 666 says, "They really cleaned this place up since I was here. Kinda sucks."
Aracely is getting her hair right in a mirror. "Yeah? What, you like it dirty?"
"You know what I mean. Feels more real. People screaming. Look at them with their signs, those are planted now half the time. They don't want anyone bringing in a sign saying 'kill all the Guatemalans' or something."
"Tch," Aracely says. "Whatever. It means I'm not gonna get MRSA off the ring."
"You nervous?"
"What, because it's some big white guy? He gets grabby and I go low," Aracely says, finally satisfied with her bangs. "Otherwise, I just got to wear him out and pin him, right? He's probably still reeling from Sanders."
"But he might," says the man in the business suit and the Satan mask, "have something to prove..."
AND SO
"AND NOW, A NEW FACE: FROM BAJA CALIFORNIA - THE DESERT RIDER..." Wild Dick Dale-style guitar tones, from someone Mano 666 knew who played at his taqueria and who is probably hoping this will boost his sales. The screen plays violent nature-film images of a rattlesnake, and stepping out with a hand raised high is
"LA CASCABEEEEEELLLLLLLLL"
She stands there, lingering for a moment as the crowd screams. Is it the wildest crowd ever? No. In fact, half the stadium seats are closed off, because there was no way to fill them. But is it the biggest crowd she's ever faced? Yes. Her heart soars -
And she remembers to sneer a little, before strutting on down the ramp, hooking her thumbs in the beltloops on her leather pants. Part of her wants to run, but that's not the style, not yet. She does raise a hand as she passes, raising index and middle finger and stiffening up her upper arm before letting it shake violently for a moment, every muscle taut.
She slides into the ring, twisting around and using only her legs (and body motion) to sweep in and instantly get to her feet. And most of all she tries not to grin.
Hopefully it will not get instantly wiped off her face!!
Something to prove?
Sven Maesters sure as hell had something to prove.
The lighter guitar suddenly fades away as the thick, harsh growls of Nordic Death Metal thunders. The room goes dark, with the exception of the flashing, strobing lights that flicker. Two spotlights meet together at the entrance of the walkway down to the ring, fixed on the curtain that hides the man. With great flourish, the red curtains are swept aside, as the man within approaches.
Sven Maesters has come.
The wrestler did not bond in the locker room. His preperation was crude, and simple: A pair of cargo shorts, his wolfskin pelt for a cloak, a wolfman mask, and a pair of black army boots. He did not talk. He did not banter. He just fumed at his embarrassment, his public failure in front of everyone's eyes.
Even his brother saw him lose against Jack Sanders.
And here he was now. The massive swede thunders down the walkway, stomping as the metal drones on overhead. The wrestler was distracted, his thoughts elsewhere at his family. He hasn't even called his brother. He just... he just wanted to come back to him with a victory. A public victory. Something he can show him that proves that what he was doing was worth it.
That Ragnarok was still alive.
Sven rolls under the turnbuckles, entering the ring. Rising to his feet, he just stares intensely from behind the mask, as the announcer rattles off. "And the challenger! The Scandivanian Striker from the Deep North! The Warwolf himself!"
"SVEN MAESTERS!"
"This is no ordinary CWA match, though! This match is falling under the NEO LEAGUE RULES! This is an official tournament matchup, and their standings are on the line! Will Sven Maesters muster another win under his belt? Oooooh! Too soon Sven?" The swede suddenly looks DAGGERS up at the announcer booth, reaching out to the side as a mic is handed to him. "Hey! Hey! You!"
And Sven points a finger at the announcer.
"You better swallow that crap, before I come up there and shove it down your throat! I am Sven Maesters! And I have come for one thing, and one thing only!" The wrestler turns towards Aracely, leaning forward as he continues to rant in the mic. "I am going to break the La Cascabel, and send her crying home back to Mexico! This Neo-League only has room for one wrestler. It sure as hell isn't going to be that dumb cow Rainbow Mika..." And now, Sven points a finger at Aracely.
"And it sure as hell won't be you, La Cascabel!"
Wow, that guy is big, is Aracely's first thought as she catches sight of him. It's weird how people's size doesn't really carry through when you see them on video. As Sven storms in, she straightens up and looks him dead in the eyes.
Even as he talks some heavy stuff!!
Her eyes turn upwards, and a helpful bystander leans up into the ring to hand her her own microphone. Raising it up to her lips, her clear English rings out. "You know, Mr. Wolf, I kind of agree with you. Like, I'm gonna give you half credit. Because you're right..."
She looks out towards the crowd. There's a lingering pause.
(The announcers fill it with dead air factoids! "La Cascabel is apparently the daughter of Mano 666, out to bring a storm into the world fighting scene." "Well, looking at ol' Mano over there, I'd have to say it looks like he's got another on the way." "Owwwch.")
"There is only room for one wrestler in the Neo League. But you're also half wrong..."
And now she looks back at him. "Because it ain't gonna be you." And with that she hands the mike back and shrugs out of her leather jacket, tossing it over the top rope towards Mano 666 as she starts circling around!
"The name is Sven Maesters!"
That was the response as he stomps towards La Cascabel, appraoching too close to her. Puffing out his chest, he looks down at the girl, keeping the mic at his mouth. "And you talk big for a little girl. You really think you can tame the wolf?" Sven rolls his shoulders, cracking his neck hard to the left, and then the right. He flexes hard, letting his biceps bulge. "I am done talking with you."
"The time is for fighting."
Sven turns his back to the girl, backing off from his intimidating stance. Walking towards the center of the ring, he hurls the mic off the stage. Turning around, he widens his stance, motioning at Aracely with both hands, gesturing with his fingertips for her to approach. "Come on! You come at me now!"
"I am ready to smack you down!"
COMBATSYS: Sven enters the arena, to the roar of the crowd!
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Sven 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Aracely enters the arena, to the roar of the crowd!
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Sven 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Aracely
She's being invited in.
Aracely thinks: This is kind of stupid. He's probably gonna clobber me if I just charge into his big fat muscle arms.
But la Cascabel hisses loudly, eyes going wide. She approaches - but moving back and forth, stepping two paces left, three right, three left, two right - getting nearer, but never getting quite close enough to get grasped at. She stays low, probably to exploit the advantage of being a smaller target.
This could get boring... but before it can she lunges forwards, hooking one leg around to get a booted foot behind Sven's knee and yank it out! (Hopefully.) "You really think you're a wolf?!"
COMBATSYS: Sven Toughs Out Aracely's Quick Throw!
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Sven 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Aracely
She was, in fact, correct.
As Sven Maesters beckons her to come, she does in fact come. Slowly. The deft dance of the wrestling prodigy is met with equal agility from the staggering man. Early on, it might become more obvious what Sven actually was. While far from being a lucha like his opponent, his mobility shows that he was big AND fast. Every tease comes with a rather slow swipe of the arms, though; while Sven was fast on his feet, he was still too bulky to deftly grab. Finally, she takes her move, hooking her leg to bring the swede down. As he goes down, the wrestler responds.
"Think?"
"I -know!-"
As Sven falls on his butt a grunt, a palm latches on her leg. What comes next was whether or not she could break away from the grips of the massive swede. If she broke away, then Sven would just rise back up. But if she did not break away? Then Sven Maesters would rise up, lifting up the girl by her one leg... and grab her arm, heaving her up in a scoop.
Then things would go ugly.
COMBATSYS: Aracely blocks Sven's World Wolf III.
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Sven 0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0 Aracely
And then, he spins her around upside. % R
Using the rising momentum to swing her around his body, he tilt-a-whirls her as he finishes his rise. Sven then promptly slams her straight back down, holding her parallel to the ground right before him, before falling to one knee. It becomes too obvious now what he was turning this around into.
An outright backbreaker!
She can see where this is going and she doesn't like it one little bit. Sven has her arm fully gripped, but her leg, she thinks - and with a snap of one leg, she kicks out, when she wasn't even pinned! As she's slammed downwards, her legs pivot upwards.
A lesser person might escape now. Or punch him in the head. Or the wolf-head - either way. Or summon up their chi and focus the power of their ancient legacy into Sven's meaty head. But la Cascabel does none of these things, for she is none of these things - she is a luchadora.
With a fishlike snapping of her spine and hips and a careful tucking of her legs, she whirls herself AROUND Sven's arm, legs spreading afterwards to straddle his back and let his own momentum push him down. Her goal thenceforth? To sweep an arm into his armpit - then another -
And slam all one hundred and forty pounds of luchadora FURY into his upper back while pulling up his chin.
"She's goin' for the Clutches of Satan!!"
"Careful, son, this show plays in Georgia!"
"Look there at Mano 666, you can practically see him swell up with pride--"
"Or else he's been sneaking a taquito when nobody can see!"
COMBATSYS: Sven auto-guards Aracely's The Clutches of Satan.
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Sven 0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0 Aracely
A reversal into a reversal.
The close quarters between Sven and Aracely continues, as the hold turns around. As he attempts to smash her down on her knee, the wily luchadora scampers around HIS arm. 140 pounds of pure wrestling finesse comes down on his back, on top of his pelt cloak, as he is pulled on his chin. The masked wrestler is just held there, as he looks surprised, briefly, at the sudden speed.
But then he stands.
The massive swede just stands back up, absolutely no selling the woman on her back. No, more than just no sells it. The wrestler brings his arms up into the air, motioning towards the crowd. He circles around, showing just how 140 pounds of pure tension was not even enough to break the Warwolf's back. "Is this the Clutch of Satan? This is not enough to slow down Ragnarok's finest!" He bellows, before letting loose a howl of laughter. Giving a quick beat of his chest, he suddenly holds on to the hands on his chin tight. His masked face casts a glance for the ropes, and behind that grim wolfman visage, he sneers. Sven Maester bolts, letting out long, stamping strides as he belts towards it.
And then he jumps.
Boy, does he jump. The massive swede's legs pump as Sven Maester bounds into the air. Boots forward, he hops right on the ropes, jamming them hard down on the landing. They stretch nearly to the floor, as the tension builds taut to a snapping point. And there, he launches, hurling himself up and through the air, firing straight backwards into a moonsault slam, attempting to smash himself back into the mat...
Or more importantly, smashing the little lucha on his back to the mat.
COMBATSYS: Aracely dodges Sven's Crushing Throw.
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Sven 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Aracely
Sven Maester leaps up like the coming of Ragnarok and this would be a situation where Aracely is completely screwed, having failed to successfully bear down the wolf. She really /otter/ move. Or else she's in for a world of -- no animals really rhyme with pain.
She holds on even as Sven charges forwards. As he leaps into the air.
As he pivots around to slam against the sea that is the ring and dislodge the whale louse that is la Cascabel, the louse decides to get while the gettin is good. She whips herself off to the side, grasping onto the Rope with her feet just as Sven commits, as he throws himself on the ground with a mighty SLAM!
Sadly, SLAM is not today's greatest virtue. La Cascabel says, "Ha! On the ground, where you ought to be!" She can't balance on the rope well in those motorcycle boots, but rather than grasp or slow or topple forwards, she leaps up onto the nearby turnbuckle, balances herself, pivots around --
And descends!! One leg leads, even as she comes down, and since Sven's landed on his back in his efforts to crush her like bug, this may be a little more vicious and assertive than normal.
Especially when la Cascabel reaches over to hook up one of his legs, a pin attempt so early!?
COMBATSYS: Sven dodges Aracely's Fall From Heaven.
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Sven 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Aracely
Sven just slams hard on the mat.
There is a grunt as he hits the ground, the wrestler writhing briefly on impact. Wincing, he curls up in a ball for a moment. He was exposed, and what was worse, the little luchadora had slipped from his back. But where was she? The mask tilts side to side, the Swede looking around. As La Cascabel takes her dive from the turnbuckle, the wrestler growls. With a heave, he rolls aside, moving with that strength-driven agility that kept him mobile, if slow on the attack. Narrowly, he evades the diving pounce that slams right beside him.
And the Warwolf rises.
"So fast! I am impressed!" Sven states as he stands back up. Towering over Aracely, he brings arms about wide. "No, not impressed. Annoyed! You aren't even doing this for family!" He barks, as he sweeps those massive arms in. The meaty palms attempt to seize the girl by her upper arms. Should the swede get the grips, he will simply whip her around, and throw her straight at the ropes. He needed to give her distance, and momentum again.
While he was standing up, of course.
COMBATSYS: Aracely blocks Sven's Medium Throw.
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Sven 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Aracely
Smashing into the ground tells la Cascabel that maybe this guy is both strong and meaty AND fast and agile. Welp, she thinks, looking up to him as she leaps back up to her feet, so much for her.
She is grasped, full on, double princess zone, and hucked towards the ropes. She lets herself fly, grasping onto the middle rope as she impacts, propping herself up with the ropes significantly tensed behind her.
Looking ahead, she grins.
Then she lets go, rebounding forwards and running dead ahead. This is pretty suicidal, but maybe she's confident of her momentum?!
COMBATSYS: Sven blocks Aracely's Gear Grinder.
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Sven 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Aracely
Or actually, it's because she flips her way upwards, twisting around like one of those slinkies you throw down a staircase to wrench herself over Sven, past his shoulders, and to try and hurl him to the ground as she clears his back! This involves, of course, latching legs around his waist, because there are only so many ways you can work up enough torsion and momentum to do this to someone who is such a giant wall of living lutefisk that walks like a man!!
Bork bork bork.
Sven Maesters, despite being an inexperienced wrestler, and the weakest member of the Ragnarok wrestling family, was in fact both big, tough, and fast. In contrast to the nimble Aracely, however, he had a glaring weakness: while he was fast on his feet, he was not fast on the grab. As he tosses her to the ropes, she was already diving back at the lurch of a wrestler.
"Gragh!"
The bulky swede growls as she makes it on his shoulders. Sven tries to grab her before she can latch on, but already she was winding around him. There is nothing to grab, no time to hold, as he is sent hurtling. The swede hits the ground, the torque being enough to send him tumbling. Unfortunately, tumbling is just want he needs. Rolling with the hit, he gives what looks like a fierce throw, and the crowd certainly buys it. A roar comes over the audience as Sven nearly falls out of the ring, catching the ropes at the last second. Grunting, he rises back up quickly, holding on the top ropes to ease himself.
And then he pulls himself up on them again.
Sven's own style was slower and clumsier than La Cascabel, though no less acrobatic. Hopping up on the middle rope, he gives a second jump, bringing his legs to the high rope, while keeping his grip. The third jump is what launches him, as Sven spins through the air. Rocketing straight back towards La Cascabel, he unleashes a flying elbow, bringing a fist to his palm as he once again sends himself flying at the smaller wrestler. A powerful move, especially considering his size and strength.
But one that comes out a bit slow...
COMBATSYS: Sven successfully hits Aracely with Fierce Punch.
+=+=!= Power Slam! =!=+=+
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Sven 0/-------/------=|====---\-------\0 Aracely
La Cascabel should probably have done something a bit more evasive, but seeing Sven getting up on the ropes made her think that she was in the face of someone attempting to get the hell away. She lunges forwards - perhaps intent on forcing Sven out of the ring.
Not a bad strategy! If she could keep him out of the ring until he times out, his advantage in reach and muscularity would mean nothing. She'd have the high ground, just like noted psycho soldier Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Much like that general of the Clone Wars, however, she misreads the situation, and her approach smashes her into the ground, burying her momentarily beneath the mountain of majestic nordic flesh that is Sven.
In fact... It's a pin.
Mano 666 looks concerned as the ref gets in. But while the ref's back is turned --
"Ohhh, looks like you can take the rude out of the rude subsistence but you can't take the rudo out of the Rudolph!"
"Sam that analogy made less than no sense!"
"Well look there, Mano's putting a mike stand in the ring! He's waving at la Cascabel!"
"Annnnd there's the kickout! Rolling out, staggering, la Cascabel's on the ropes - literally..."
And indeed she is, rubbing her head and gasping for breath. But it seems like the temptation has been set out... and while it may not be the most virtuous of paths, Sven's about twice her size. And so it is that by the time he gets to his feet -
FWASH In comes the swung mike stand! And it's one of those ones with a heavy metal base, and it's being struck out towards the tender noggin of Maesters!
COMBATSYS: Aracely successfully hits Sven with Random Weapon.
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Sven 0/-------/----===|=====--\-------\0 Aracely
It was time to end this.
Sven hurls the full 245 pounds of angry swede smashing into the smaller wrestler. Crushing her under the mound of Sven, he promptly, and brutally, goes for a pin. Struggling to hold her down, he growls under the mask, waiting patiently for the ref to start the count down. Of course, he doesn't even notice the mic stand working its way into the ring, or the man bringing it in. As she kicks out, he rolls to the side, slowing getting up in time to see the weapon in her hands. He tries to bring his arms up, to catch the weapon in the palm of his hand, eyes wind behind that mask.
*WHAM*
The mic stand smashes hard upside the head of the towering Swede, before he can even get up to full height. He staggers, stumbling away from the sheer force of the blow. Grabbing his head, a trickle of blood runs down it as he tries to make it for the ropes... but falls to his knees short. "Gah..." He grunts, rising up again. Turning back towards his opponent, he eases his footing, as he brings a hand to his neck.
"Oh, so you want to fight dirty, ya?"
The words are foreboding, as he suddenly begins to unclasp his wolf pelt. Tossing it aside, he hurls the cloak into a heap at the corner turnbuckle of the ring. "Then the time for Sven Maesters has ended. And in its place..." Sven suddenly unleashes a howl, throwing his head back as he opens his arms wide. Crouching down, he drives a hand on the mat as he balances himself.
"The Night of the Warwolf has Begun!"
Sven surges towards the smaller wrestler, moving with feral speeds. Blood still pouring from his head, new life has clearly poured into the Swede. Thundering at the girl, he sweeps his arm out to catch her as he runs past; a simple clothesline to pressure her as he makes a break to the ropes.
Judging by the last move, she does not want him near those ropes anymore.
COMBATSYS: Aracely blocks Sven's Combo Throw.
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Sven 0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0 Aracely
La Cascabel rebounds off the swing, staggering back a pace and whirling the stand over her head several times, more for a lack of anything better to do with it. "Pfah! You're the one dirty, carrying around that god damn dog pelt!" she counters, before...
Oh, he took it off.
But this reveals... The Wolf of War!*
The incoming freight train of werewolf power smashes into la Cascabel who is forced to stagger back, buffaloed by sheer wolven power - but there's distance between her and the ropes, and while it's stumbling and clumsy, she's able to spin herself away before she's trapped in between the rope and the hard place.
Mano 666 (who is not her actual father, probably) slaps the mat, shouting something of encouragement. Aracely's eyes cut towards him and she shouts something back.
"What are they saying, Tim?!"
"I don't know, but I think it's in a mysterious language."
"That's... Spanish."
"Spanish!? Where the hell did they learn that!"
"Probably somewhere near Mexico, Tim!"
Aracely twists the mike stand in her hands, raising it upwards, warily. As if she's anticipating a charge... and it's a fakeout because once Sven hits those ropes, Aracely pitches the whole damn thing towards him!! But this can only buy time, right?!
(*book 1: the legions)
COMBATSYS: Sven interrupts Large Thrown Object from Aracely with Wolfensteiner.
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Sven 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\1 Aracely
That was the trouble with freight trains.
They just wouldn't stop.
As unleashed Sven rockets past La Cascabel, not quite sweeping her up, he just jumps up into the ropes. Landing his feet on the top ropes, he springboards off them, launching straight back towards Aracely as she swiftly speaks with the legendary Mano 666. There wasn't much time. As the microphone stand is sent flinging into Sven, the swede backflips into the air. The stand smashes him squarely in the head again, this time hard into the face. Blood begins to dribble out from the bottom of the mask, showing the damage of the strike.
But Sven.
Wasn't.
Slowing down.
The Warwolf slams the front of his shins on La Cascabel's shoulder, and promptly squeezes. Locking them around her neck, he reverses the momentum, flipping himself forward again with Aracely in tow. It was a Frankensteiner, the Swede snapping La Cascabel around to smash her head first into the mat. That much was familiar.
But Sven keeps going.
The momentum continues as he keeps rolling, tumbling over La Cascabel into what might make a good opportunity for a pin. But as he roll up on his back, he keeps his grip with his legsm pulling his prey back up into the air. Lying on his back now, he draws back both his legs as he releases his grip, and with a heave, launches the girl across to the ropes with both of his legs.
Before bolting back upright with feral agility.
Aracely finds herself disarmed, but thankfully not literally, by the wolf train. Much like the God of the Mooninites, he strikes hard, slamming the smaller woman against the mat with a huge THUMP. Then, a kick towards the ropes! Leaving her hanging on them, hair dishevelled and vision dizzying. She coughs at the aftermath of that brutal kick.
Is she about to punch out?!
"OK, cabron," she husks to herself.
No.
Pushing off the ropes, she lunges forwards. She runs. At the last moment she leaps up, high, knees slightly spread.
To what end?!
COMBATSYS: Sven endures Aracely's Huracanarana.
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Sven 1/-------/=======|-------\-------\0 Aracely
To this end: Her knees wrap around the shoulder of that huge brawny man and she twists around him. And what's the natural thing to do when someone's on top of you and crawling all over you like Lecter on Miggs? It's to reach around.
But that's the plan. La Cascabel twists herself in a couple of undulating, crawling orbits around the huge man, twisting around by pure leg strength as she builds up speed, momentum, steers the wolf around the track! She finally can't get down any further, and so she wraps her ankles around his neck, feet crossing each other as she dangles.
And then she slaps off the mat, to add momentum - spinning round and round, a full one thousand and eighty degrees of vigorous rotation before she grasps the nearby turnbuckle, wrenches at the waist, and TWISTS --
And sends the Wolf of War flying out of the ring!
After this she lands on her ass, breathing heavily. When the crowd erupts in roars, she raises her right hand, doing that two-fingered arm-rattle shake again with a slowly dawning grin. Did it work!?
Sven continued to not slow down.
His unyielding stride does not stop as he reaches back on his feet. Stomp. Stomp. Stomp goes the boots as he approaches back towards the spry young lucha. As she lunges right back at him from the ropes, he doesn't block. He doesn't even react. He just keeps his grim march, staring from the depths of his wolfman mask, as she just slams into him.
He isn't no selling it this time, though.
As he is caught up into the luchadora's spindly grasps, he soon finds himself spun around and around, caught in the whirlwind of a reach around from the deft wrestler. La Cascabel soon has him launched away, hurtled through the air right out of the ring. Sailing through the air, he lands with a nasty-sounding crunch on the floor outside of the concrete. That wasn't a fake crunch. That was a broken bone crunch.
But he rises anyways.
The Night of the Warwolf was beginning to fade; the new dawn of Sven was rising. But the berserker blood that ran through the Swede kept him from slowing down. The wrestler growls as he takes into a running leap, hopping back on the edge of the ring, and then, another hop on the other side of the middle ropes by the turnbuckle, straddling it. It did not seem like a big deal, until the third hop comes. And then it becomes obvious. He wasn't just getting back in the ring.
He was setting up a signature move.
The third jump comes, and he takes to the air in a high arc. Spiraling as he takes flight, he hurls himself to a high-angled corkscrew moonsault, flipping backwards through the air as he crashes towards Aracely again. This time, the whole arc of the body was coming, and should mis-guess again, she was going to be slammed under the massive weight of the Swede once again. And just like last time, he would try to make the move for the pin...
Except for the fact he would wince, grabbing his leg in agony, after the landing
The Night of the Warwolf has ended.
COMBATSYS: Sven successfully hits Aracely with Three Wolf Moonsault.
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Sven 0/-------/-------|=====--\-------\0 Aracely
In he comes.
Aracely thinks that it's kind of like those cartoons, which of course so often had a wolf in them. The shadow on her is sharp. She doesn't know quite what she ended up breaking in the man.
But that huge weight smashes into her. And there is a huge CRUNCH from her.
It's fortunate in a way that the cartilage of the rib cage is so springy and resilient.
Of course, it also knocks the winds out of the sails of la Cascabel pretty profoundly. Even with Sven's new dawn of leg-pain, it takes until well into the two count for la Cascabel to even start twitching-- and that means, naturally enough, that it is much too late to kick out, though she tries, and ends up twitching in pain for her trouble!
COMBATSYS: Aracely takes no action.
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Sven 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Aracely can no longer fight.
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Sven 0/-------/-------|
It couldn't be a broken leg.
Sven refused to believe it was. He rejected it. It was a sprain. Just a sprain. With the berserker-like fury having been faded, the wrestler was now feeling the pain of La Cascabel's injuries. Blood was still pooling on his face, and yet, he couldn't remove the mask yet. Groaning in pain, he turns towards his opponent.
Who had not recovered yet.
Sven hurls himself over. Moving to pin the luchadora, he just holds her there. The ref begins the count. 1. 2. 3. A three count. An actually three count, in his favor. His leg was sprained, and he was in ungodly pain. But as he wipes the blood from his head, the fact of the matter remained, as the crowd cheer.
He had won.
He had beaten Satan.
Log created on 19:54:20 01/02/2015 by Sven, and last modified on 01:40:41 01/04/2015.