Description: In this brutal Neo-League match, Sven Maester faces fighting tournament newcomer Rochelle, Sven pitting his aerial wrestling from Scandinavia against Rochelle's bo fighting prowess from Indonesia.
Rainbow Mania was dead.
Sven Maesters, the world champion of the Rookie belt and otherwise known as the guy who was just there, had something to run against. Rainbow Mania. Except, where the rainbow should be high, the rainbow was in fact... inactive. So that was fine. There was always the Rookie belt... which was also pretty slowed down. A lot of the world's fighting had dropped of the radar, for reasons mysterious to Sven. But as a champion, Sven was... idle. And an idle Warwolf would become an irrelevant Warwolf.
And that meant branching out to other venues.
The makeshift wrestling ring was setup at the intersection on the Streets of Cannes. Ropes and posts and a wooden boards was set up, traffic was blocked off, the audience didn't even have street stands. This was not the place for art films and class, no. This was the place for a Neo-League match. Sven Masters' only contributions to the act of film was the wolfman mask upon his face. The towering Swede was thundering down the street, as Swedish viking metal drones heavy. The wrestler's wolf-pelt cape swirls behind him, as he tromps along with military boots. The Rookie Champion belt shines as the swede reaches the ring. Rolling under the ropes, he perks up into a stand, hurling his fists into the air. "Aroo! AROOO!'
"Who faces the Warwolf?!"
Rochelle stalks down the street from the opposite direction, her motorcycle boots carrying her forward with a sensual stride as she idles along like a cross between a siamese cat and a tigress. As her first test as an enforcer and hitter for Geese Howard, the mysterious woman only known as 'Rochelle' has been sent to compete in the Neo-League, against Sven Maesters. She carries a titanium rod in her right hand, her lily white fingers clasping it softly between her fingertips with lazy reverence for the weapon. As she sees her opponent approach, she narrows his eyes quietly and gives an unconsciously erotic pucker of her lips as she considers him.
As he bellows from the ring at the crowd, her red painted lips curls into a knowing smile. She reaches the ring after taking her time to prepare, a subtle shift in her breathing as she attunes herself to the Silat meditative exercise she was taught that turned her into the killing machine she is now. Her left hand reaches up to grab a rope, and she slides upward with a smooth motion, appearing deliberate and practiced but with the unconscious grace of a harlot. She slides through the middle and top rope with a twist and a turn about, before she twists the rod about at the end of the motion and depresses a button the rod. There's a loud CLACK as both sides telescope outwards into a metal staff, and she drops into a graceful, poetic pose. "The name's Rochelle," she says breathlessly, as if she were an actress mocking lesser forms of film. "It'll be a pleasure." Her left hand slides forward, glowing with crimson chi that matches her dyed hair and ponytail.
COMBATSYS: Rochelle has started a fight here.
Ah, a beautiful woman.
As Sven watches the woman come up, he nods his head instinctively. A beautiul woman; and a mature one. And one with an weapon. Sven Maesters had just enough experience to brace himself instinctively. As the woman unleashes the staff, the swede brings two fingers to his chin, his expression unknown behind the mask. He was considering, carefully understanding on his response. He finally makes up his mind, as he unleashes a two-handed clap together.
"Ah ha! Pleasure is all mine!"
Sven Maesters begins as he steps back, letting Rochelle carve her space in the ring. "But do not think that I will hold back because you are woman! Your charms have no effect! I am the Warwolf! World Champion! And you have entered my domain, ya!" The westler unleashes a backflip, landing right back on the post, each leg on each side on the ropes. The wrestler lowers himself into a crouch, ready to pounce, as he beckons his opponent.
"Come at me!"
COMBATSYS: Sven has joined the fight here.
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Sven 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Rochelle
Rochelle's smile tightens as she watches Sven with careful intensity, staring directly between those hands as they clap, before she shifts her gaze to his chest, eyelids drifting downwards as her body loosens and she adopts Sven's breathing pattern. She leans backwards in her stance, moving her staff behind her with a vertical reversal, before Sven unleashes the backflip that leaves him atop the ropes. As the Swede lowers himself into a ready position and signals the beginning of the fight, Rochelle nods faintly in affirmation and agreement.
"May I see you in the stars."
The assassin charges forward on her motorcycle boots with perfect balance atop the one inch block heel featured by each, her staff shifting horizontal beside her. She sweeps her left arm before her as in the middle of the ring, before sweeping it outwards and sliding to the ground with a sidelong shift to the ground. In the process, she swings her staff up and around, left hand touching the ground as her staff swings upwards at Sven's head with a quick, but swift and pivoting tap. She leaves herself in a low position beneath the corner, watching the ropes instead of Sven to calculate the proper evasion for his next attack.
COMBATSYS: Rochelle successfully hits Sven with Medium Strike.
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Sven 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Rochelle
He would be coming to the stars .
As she charges forward, Sven is already braced. He was unaware of her background, her self, her career choice. For the wrestler, every opponent was an opponent. His cape swirls as he takes to a leap, bounding into the air, as he makes an attempt to flip over the staff, to vault over it and behind her. All with a robust grunt aloud.
That was the sound Sven makes as he is caught in mid flip by the staff, the blow hitting squarely in the shoulder. Still short of the head, but far from being clear from the blow. The blow knocks Sven tumbling, sailing past Rochelle and surging into a tumble. Sven rolls as he hits the mat, tumbling into a rise. Not just a stand, but a leap; Sven bounds towards the ropes, hitting them with both feet. He springboards off, launching back up into the air into a low fast arc. Twisting with the momentum, his hand comes out into an aerial single-handed chop, to smash her right in the collarbone... along with the full force of the man's body coming into a crash.
COMBATSYS: Rochelle blocks Sven's Quick Punch.
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Sven 0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0 Rochelle
Rochelle is twisted slightly off center by the impact of the staff in the air instead of against a standing opponent, but mellifluously shifts with the assault, knowing the dynamics of her weapon by instinct. She allows the movement to shift her about and then moves with the recoil, coming to face the Warwolf as he lands. Still in a crouch, she watches Sven, eyes narrowed and left hand still on the ground. The pounds of his feet inform her of his approach deep within her psyche, linked to her focused thoughts like a dragon encircling itself, the wu and wei of yin and yang. The aerial chop is met with her forearm as she rises to a high kneel off her knee, the extra space between knee and mat allowing her some extra room to allow herself to be forced back down. She emits a soft, feminine grunt, regardless, at the weight of the viking.
Rochelle springs upwards off the mat after his inertia is stuck at a pivotal point against her resistance, surging upwards and swinging her arm outwards to knock his arm to the side. Her kneeling leg explodes upwards in a flash of flaming red chi between them, aimed to slam into him with the upward leap. She pulls her staff across her with both hands, the struck arm gripping all the tighter in defiance of the logic of a less disciplined fighter. Her eyes meet his as she springs into an attack, a condescending smirk suddenly flashed between the two.
COMBATSYS: Sven auto-guards Rochelle's Rapids Beneath Bridge.
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Sven 0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0 Rochelle
And Sven comes down.
It was a moment of exposure. The chop connects roughly, and Sven was supposed to be falling prone. But the woman wasn't going to let him. Already, she was surging up, a deft counter-attack. The knee was hitting his arm, and the momentum was sending him backwards, not down. The wrestler has to act quickly. He rolls with the momentum, changing his footwork as he awkwardly gets both feet on the ground. The energy begins to launch, the staff comes around, and that awkward footwork becomes dead set. Fixed in place, the wrestler's body suddenly flexes hard as each arm comes out.
That was the response as both knee and staff is caught cleanly. Sven was big. But what a lot of people facing him for the first time tended to realize a little too late that he was -fast-. The swede was one one one kg of pure muscle and speed. He wasn't disciplined; his technique was far from discipline. But for Rochelle's precise, practiced finesse, she was facing someone very big, very strong, and deceptively fast. He stops both knee and staff cold, the energy washing over him. And while the main impact struck, the rest was... not. The energy flares over him, straining his muscles as he growls. Pivoting, he wrenches himself around as he swings the woman around, to hurl her away, straight for one of the corner posts. Another unrefined assault.
But one that was bringing power with it.
COMBATSYS: Sven successfully hits Rochelle with Medium Throw.
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Sven 0/-------/-----==|===----\-------\0 Rochelle
Rochelle's mouth opens momentarily as she's caught by Sven mid-attack, her eyes opening in a look of shock, then fear. Her jaw clamps down and she clenches her teeth in preparation as she's swung around across the ring, right into the turnbuckle. She strikes it on her back, grunting as she bounces forward and drops to a knee. A lock of hair free from her ponytail hangs over her face, as she briefly looks down at the white canvas, the open hand supporting her slowly clawing into a fist as she looks up, taking a breath apart from her breathing cycle to recoup her enthusiasm.
"Too quick for a lady like me, I'm afraid."
Rochelle rolls forward and then flips out of a somersault at Sven, landing on the ground before him. She then jumps to the side as she swings her staff around with a cleaving arch, turning about and turning her back on Sven with the improvised attack, her staff piercing the air with a falsetto shriek as the light titanium is sent flying at Sven in a random fashion. She lands from the odd side-spring in another three point position, her staff tip pointed at the viking.
COMBATSYS: Sven fails to interrupt Random Strike from Rochelle with Wolfensteiner.
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Sven 0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0 Rochelle
COMBATSYS: Sven has ended the fight here.
The brutal chain was only beginning.
As Sven hurls away the woman, he takes a moment to turn to the Audience. "AROO! AROO!" He howls from behind his mask, as he reaches for his cape. Unclapsing it, he pulls away the wolf pelt, hurling it into the corner of the ring, exposing the muscled torso of the Swede. And there, as Rochelle begins her rolling charge, he bellows aloud.
"THE MOON RISES ON THE NIGHT OF THE WARWOLF!"
That was the bellow as the viking's skin turns red. Sven froths at the mouth as he hurls himself into the fray of the staff. Flipping forward, he attempts to snap his murderous thighs around Rochelle's neck. The unpredictable swinging, at least, for the wrestler, was enough to catch the man. The blow knocks his legs aside, and Sven's feet slam hard on the mat. He doesn't lose his momentum, and that proves to be a disadvantage at this point: Sven eases his feet as the second blow comes on the round abound, striking him without any slow down. Two clean hits, the second leaving a deep welt on his chest. And with the staff pointed at him, he snarls aloud, body darkening.
As the berserker rage fills him.
Rochelle slowly moves to a standing posture with a glide of her outstretched leg clad in black leather, before she begins to sidestep in a circle around the berserk Swede. She observes the red shade of his body, realizing that she is going to need to go on the defensive for a little while until she can wheelde him down to size with careful attacks. That attempt to thighlock her neck was a bad thing, indicating that he's a skilled shoot fighter, a form of martial art that her form of Silat is particularly poor at, using such moves only for basic evasions and manuevers, and even less for a staff fighter, unless used for locks with the weapon. And then, she begins to glow with crimson chi from her blue eyes, a faint, ominous glow from them as she builds strength.
"I don't think the sun dawns for any wolf."
She launches herself into the air at Sven, spinning about with her bo tucked before her diagonally, not for use but merely to keep the rhythm and inertia of her martial arts move under control. As she turns about in the leaping spin, her foot glows with the crimson chi, aimed at Sven's face. Should she successfully strike, she presses off into a jump away, turning away from him again and landing on a precarious heel and toe duality with one foot and the other.
COMBATSYS: Rochelle successfully hits Sven with Moonlight Butterfly.
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Sven 0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0 Rochelle
Precision meets power.
For all the rage of the wolf, the agility, the strength, there was a fact: precision. The wrestler was fast, but sloppy. The reckless technique of the Warwolf was obvious as the next careful attack comes, the staff sweeping with the charge. The wrestler was already leaping away from the staff... but not the foot. The kick connects, smashing hard into the brawler as he groans in pain. The blows were adding up, the body was getting burnt and bruised.
But Sven was still not slowing down.
The towering swede adapts, turning the failed evasion into a charge. Sven bolts in, dipping in hard to seize up the woman in his arms, to rip her off her feet. Pure power would be smashing through whatever defense she could muster, in order to spin her around, to whip her about the wrestler. Should he successfully keep that grip, he would spin her around his body, and promptly finish by falling to one knee, to snap her back across the knee of the wrestler.
Accompanied by a howl of rage.
COMBATSYS: Sven successfully hits Rochelle with World Wolf III.
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Sven 0/-------/-======|=======\-------\1 Rochelle
Rochelle is scooped up by Sven before she can evade, and kicks into the air as she's lofted off the ground, screeching and cursing. Then, as the spin comes, her staff goes flying out of her hands, before she's slammed down on his knee. The howl is accompanied by a wail of agony as she bends backwards over the knee, feeling her skeleton shift, but mercifully stay together, besides a bruise to a few vertebrae. She rolls off the knee, her body limp for a few precious moments. She drags herself a few paces, falling forward onto her chest as she slaps her hand down on her lost staff to pick it up. She slowly, painfully inhales, feeling her body quiver with agony as she knits her shoulders and arches her back, to get her aching muscles and bones to cooperate again, her legs moving back into responsive action.
"Bastard," she hisses to herself.
Rochelle presses off the ground and rises up, dragging her toe from exertion and pain, before she turns to face Sven again. As she does so, she moves forward with a slightly offkilter movement, and then snaps her bo at Sven's head, attempting to ram the tip of her metal polearm into Sven's skull with a cutting, rapid swipe, her teeth bared and her otherwise pretty face making an ugly, raging expressin.
COMBATSYS: Sven Toughs Out Rochelle's Power Strike!
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Sven 1/-------/=======|=======\=------\1 Rochelle
The brutal swede was pure power, pure strength. Agility and Toughness blended together into a somewhat clumsy offense. But when it connected? It was staggering. As he unleashes the backbreaker, he throws his arms in the air, releasing the woman as he howls. "ARROOO! AROOOO!" He bellows to the ground. He doesn't exploit the opening, but he does rise. Already, he was getting ready, crouching down for the pounce. But not at her. As the bo is snapped to his head, he already turns away, before it connects.
And Sven takes it.
Rolling with the blow, he oversells it, sending himself through the air. That should be the warning, as the man was fully red. Hurling himself to the ropes, he lands with both feet on it, driving them deep. With equal gusto, the brawler springboards off the ropes, hurling himself through the air. Spiraling in midair, he goes straight back at Rochelle... to bodyslam her with the full force of the swede, to slam himself and her onto the mat. Should he make contact, should he not? He would roll off on the ground, stunned, as his berserker rage wears off.
As Dawn does Rise On the Night of the Warwolf.
COMBATSYS: Sven successfully hits Rochelle with Three Wolf Moonsault.
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Sven 0/-------/-------|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 Rochelle
Rochelle's eyes widen at the way he takes the blow, her rod resonating through her hands at the amplitude feedback produced by slamming into a skull that way. And then, she shrinks back a step as he goes backwards into the ropes, her mouth silently opening with a faint part between her lips, before he flies at her. Her jaw then opens in shock and she jerks back, but too late, being caught by him and slammed onto the mat beneath him. Her body bucks against the mat as she momentarily blacks out, before she hears a faint static and she rolls onto her side, black and red around her vision. Fighting it, she slowly gets back to her feet, grabbing her bo, and turning around, tossing her head to the side and ponytail along with it, her vision returning, despite some initial pain. Breathing slowly and heavily to match him, she turns to the side and spits out bloody phlegm.
"Should've saved your energy for the second date."
She charges forward with a flurry of little blows with her staff. A slap to the right with the tip, a jam in the stomach, a smash on the collarbone, a sweep into the side of the knee, an upward pop into the chin, a jam downwards into the crouch, and then right upwards into the groin, and so forth. Finally, she spins about with a swipe against the ear, before she backflips away, landing in a guarded position with her bo across her stance, knees bent and ready to evade.
COMBATSYS: Rochelle successfully hits Sven with Fibonacci Sequence.
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Sven 0/-------/----===|>>>>---\-------\0 Rochelle
Maybe Sven should have.
The brawler hits the mat, rolling over Rochelle as he connects. It wasn't the impact that stunned him like this, though that was a contributing factor. It was the adrenaline. He had burned himself out, and now, he was... exposed. It was a race to see who could recover first, between Rochelle and Sven. And it looked like the woman was winning. She rises up, over the Swede as he lays there. Blow after blow is unleashed, as Sven instinctively tries to cover himself to no avail. Blow after blow after blow beats into him, as he is prone to the full brunt of the effort. It takes the staff shot to the dick for the paralyzing fatigue melts away, the wrestler can only make one sound.
That was the groan as Sven keeps down far longer than he should. The man was covered with sweat, he was almost shivering from the cold. The hangover of the Night of the Warwolf was always the hardest. Not helping was the black and blue and red bruises covering his chest. Blood dribbles at the bottom of his mask. And yet, the Swede gives one last groan as he struggles into a stand. He stares at the woman, and both fists come upon his chest. "You cannot seduce The Warwolf!" He bellows, pounding himself as he roars. He staves off the exhaustion just enough as he rushes forward, rushes in for Rochelle. Stomping in, he attempts to counter the defensive stance of the woman.
By punting her between the legs with his heavy boot.
COMBATSYS: Rochelle avoids Sven's Light Kick.
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Sven 0/-------/----===|>>>>---\-------\0 Rochelle
Rochelle swivels her staff about in her hands as the Swede charges in, swinging around with a spin on her boots that sends her red ponytail flying about her head with a whiff of perfume, slamming the boot to the side with her staff and shifting Sven's momentum away temporarily. She jumps backwards with a flip, curling her knees in at the apex of her aerial inversion, before landing on the mat with a heavy stomp of her motorcycle boots, ropes to her back. She bends her knees, her upturned hand opening beneath her titanium staff and closing again, as she regards Sven carefully.
Rochelle takes a step forward, then springs another with a stride, before launching herself forward with a spin that unleashes a kick at Sven, meaning to knock him over. As she lands, she spins her staff up and around, before jamming it down at Sven, aiming for his lower most rib, with a hard smash down with the very end.
COMBATSYS: Sven barely endures Rochelle's Glittering Monsoon.
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Sven 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Rochelle
As Sven rushes in with the punt, the woman was already moving, already evading, already on him. The titan of a Swede stops his momentum harshly, already turning. He was fixing his feet down, he wasn't backing down. His offense was leaning in, he was forcing himself in. He couldn't let her out manuveur him. When the staff comes, the titan attempts to simply power through it. He forces himself in place as the first kick comes. He doesn't get knocked down, he is able to keep his footing there. But then that blow comes to the rib.
And the wind gets knocked out.
Sven's eyes go wide from behind the mask. Gasping for air, he staggers, stunned by the sheer force. The blow ran all the way down to his knees. The wrestler's legs tremble, the moment of respite from fatigue gone in a flash. There was a broken rib now, but that was the least of his worries, as the smash down comes into a finisher. That was almost enough to knock him down. But not enough. The wrestler was at the end of his rope. Snarling under the mask, Sven barks out. "You'll get rude!"
Sven Maesters lunges in low, attempting to scoop Rochelle right off her feet...
COMBATSYS: Sven successfully hits Rochelle with Full Moon Rising.
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Sven 0/-------/------=|=======\=====--\1 Rochelle
And there, he takes to the air.
Sven leaps, bringing the speed and power to the corner of the ring. Lifting Rochelle up with him, he flips her upside down, hugging her firm... erm, her body against his own, facing her down. Raising her high up, legs in the air, he lands right in the corner post, straddling it with each leg on each side of the post upon the ropes. With a pivot, and a second hop, he jumps up, and brings his legs up with it as he unleashes a brain-busting piledriver straight down into the corner post... before releasing her, himself falling backwards with exhaustion from the effort.
Breathing hard behind the mask.
Rochelle is swung up off her feet, and flipped around, kicking her legs and curling forwards, struggling as she drops her staff. Then, to her horror, she's driven straight into the corner post, slamming into it with a buck of her body and bouncing away, beside the exhausted wrestler. Shaking and shuddering, although she is without tears or a facial show of pain, she forces herself to her feet. Ignoring her staff, she snarls as crimson chi flickers up over her feet and hands, then creeping up her legs up to her knees and elbows. She launches herself forward with a press off the nearby ropes, cutting the corner off the ring and attempting to slam her boot into Sven's head in the process.
Unfortunately, the move is miscalculated, and brings her out of the ring afterwards, tumbling head over foot and being incapacitated permanently by the fall.
COMBATSYS: Rochelle can no longer fight.
[ \\\\ <
COMBATSYS: Sven dodges Rochelle's Golden Storm.
[ \\\\ <
And there comes the light.
The audience was at the edge of their seats. Sven Maesters and Rochelle were ready to go down at any moment. Rochelle once again rises up before Sven, and with Sven on his back exhausted, it looked like this was going to be decided with a frightening finish. The boot comes straight for Sven's head...
And he rolls out of the way.
The woman overshoots, landing straight out of the ring. Sven overrolls himself, rolling into a resting state, facing up. He wanted to take his mask off. He wanted to breath. But As she lands out of the way, he growls. Slowly, he rises up, reaching for the ropes... that weren't there. She had cut off the corner; all of the ropes were limp. Sven forces into a stand without them, coming into a full stride. He looks around, falling into his wrestling stance. And then, he realizes she wasn't coming. Sven goes to the edge of the ring, and looks down. He considers pinning her.
He considers it would be bad taste.
Instead, the brawler throws his arms into the air, as the crowd cheer. "Yeah! Yeah! Sven Maesters!" He bellows out, his fatigue falling away for the purposes of showmanship. "The Warwolf is champion! The Warwolf is winner! Yeah! Yeah!" He brings out his index finger, pointing towards the audience. "Sven Maester!"
COMBATSYS: Sven has ended the fight here.
Log created on 16:48:59 10/09/2016 by Rochelle, and last modified on 20:54:18 10/12/2016.