Match of the Millennium

Description: Lyraelle's hungry for a belt, so she targets the Blue Champion Belt holder Leroy Smith for the title. But will she able to handle the real dogchamp of the Circuit of Champions, Leroy's dog Sugar? (Winner: Lyraelle)

[LYRAELLE]
It's been one year since Demon Queen Lyraelle made her first big splash into the professional fighting circuit in a debut title match against the world's Red Champion championship belt holder that saw both contender and defender end the fight floating barely-conscious in separate swimming pools.

Since then, Lyramania has been running wild; previously classified as an 'influencer' known mainly amongst a small but intense fandom for her succubus-style cosplay, the Demon Queen has had an impressive ascent both in the fighting circuit and as fledgling media royalty. She managed to secure a spot as the cover girl for the summer issue of Women's World of Fighting magazine in the Fashion Smash against the valkyrie-like Victoria, resulting in the magazine's highest sales for an issue in over a decade (more than a thousand!), triggered the viral #SecretSmurf hashtag via an AMA featuring a fight with the mighty Kongou, and has controversially been lauded as a superheroine for her livestreamed heroics during the invasion of Southtown despite the fact that she appears to have since recruited one of the demonic invaders into her employ.

Even more controversially, she's also managed to become the face of the Midnight Channel, now the number one contender to Saturday Night Fights, after making the bold move of outing herself as a bona fide Darkstalker and opening her entrepreneurial arms to the monsters forsaken by Professional Fighting Worldwide's blanket ban on monsters of all stripes.

And she's done it all without losing a single Singles match on the circuit, her infernal fire only quelled by gauntlets or multi-opponent matches.

The question on every Minion's metaphorical lips is, 'When will she make the move from Contender to Champion?'

- Article by KittyFantastica

Earlier today, a link to the article above was posted on the Hitterverse along with the following Beat:

@DemonQueenLyraelle: 'It's been a hell of a year, Minions! Looking forward to a very special stream tonight! Time to answer some questions ;D from Russia, with Love <3'

o LIVE

"Privet, minions~"

The handcam is held at the perfect length and angle to capture the Demon Queen's face and upper body in all of her infernal glory as she strikes her signature smile, wink, head-tilt and victory-V pose before expertly panning out in realtime to reveal the majestic backdrop of Saint Basil's Cathedral and Red Square behind her as her luxurious pink ponytail blows perfectly on a modest breeze.

The center of the square, visible behind her, has been organized into a fighting ring, with recording technicians, an audience and security in the form of local police all organized by Professional Fighting Worldwide.

Perhaps controversially, it appears that the ban on Darkstalkers at PFW events has been suspended - but whether by choice or by order of the organizers, all of the darkstalkers in the audience have been cordoned into their own separate section to watch, lumped in with a substantial number of clear Lyraelle fans in various degrees of cosplay.

In spite of the extensive coverage of the event available, it seems that the Demon Queen has secured the option of running her own parallel livestream.

"Welcome to Red Square, everybody! It's so cool!"

The Demon Queen's excitement is palpable as she shivers and pumps a fist with delight before panning the camera around to take in the sights of the square.

"So, we've got Saint Basil's Cathedral, the Kremlin, Lenin's Mausoleum, and GUM! They've been so nice to me here! I didn't expect it, you know, being a member of the monarchy, and, well -"

Lyraelle gestures vaguely.

"Anyway, minions, you're all so clever, I bet you've already guessed that today I'm going to be challenging for a Champion championship belt! You already know me, but you might not know all that much about my opponent, the current Blue Champion champion, so I'm gonna give you a quick rundown!"

A pre-constructed overlay appears on the stream in place of Lyraelle, featuring a photograph with a profile below it.

CURRENT BLUE CHAMPION CHAMPION:

"SUGAR"

AGE: 8=10 years

HEIGHT: 31-40 cm
WEIGHT: 23-25 kg.
Temperament: Docile, Willful, Friendly, Gregarious
Likes: Peeing on benches
Dislikes: Sudden movements, new music

"As you can see, he's quite the impressive specimen for his age, but as far as I'm concerned, this match is gonna be a walk in the park."

A beat passes.

"Oh, sorry, minions! Apparently I got the overlays mixed up. My bee!"

The overlay changes.

CURRENT BLUE CHAMPION CHAMPION:

LEROY SMITH

AGE: 80=100 years

HEIGHT: 130-200 cm
WEIGHT: 33-85 kg.
Temperament: Docile, Willful, Friendly, Gregarious
Likes: Peeing on benches
Dislikes: Sudden movements, new music

"At least I got the last section right!"

The overlay disappears after a few seconds, replaced again with Lyraelle's beaming face. She's starting to walk backwards toward the fighting ring, and some of the fans in the background turn and, well, start acting generally like fans realizing they're being filmed behind a celebrity. Amongst them, a trio of imps, one red, one green, and one yellow, can be seen eating popcorn.

"Anyways, I'm switching over to Lyra-Cam so we can get started! Feel free to stay tuned for POV goodness, or switch over to the PFW stream - and wish me luck, minions!"

The three imps turn toward Lyraelle and call out in various states of oral capacity filled with popcorn,

"Good luck, Your Majesty!"

Lyraelle winks before the camera on the DemonQueenLyraelle FightTube channel switches to a first-person perspective.

[LEROY SMITH]
Leroy Smith was a ways off to the side, barely even a blip on the great big video production with the Red Square.

The martial artists was in his dark glasses, dressed in a thicker coat and jacket for the cold weather. His dreadlocks were covered a bit with a warm hat. It wasn't his best looking outfit, but with a man at his age, comfort was a satisfying luxury. He was training on a Wing Chun dummy; a wooden training dummy with small 'arms' stuck out to work through the deflects, parries, and counter attacks. At his side was two fine ladies. The first was a local girl; she met Leroy at the airport; she had come home from Oslo, having visited her family while on leave with college. Leroy didn't know her name, she didn't know his. But she was holding his cane while he warmed up. The other lady? Was his small bulldog Sugar, dressed in a small green wool sweater and hat ensemble of her own. As he lands the killing blow at the dummy, he pulls his arms away. Body tense, he finishes with a cooldown exercise, releasing his breath as he does so.

"Russia's cold for these old bones."

Leroy Smith says with a husky growl, taking the cane from the woman standing by. Gripping it firmly, he steps out towards the square, unaware of any overlays or streams or any of that. Using his cane for support, he walks slowly across the square to the ring, escorted on each side with the young lady and the bulldog. As he approaches the center, he turns his head slightly to the right, peering through his dark glasses. "Well you must be that Demon Queen Lyraelle." He says in a gentle, husky voice. Out of respect, he removes his wool cap, giving a small bow as he walks towards the center. Replacing it, he continues. "It's a pleasure to be receiving your challenge. I hope you forgive me. The temperature is hard on an old fighter like me, and it helps to warm up before I fight." He gestures at his two escorts, who bow as well before scurrying towards the sidelines, both swaying their hips eagerly as they do so. Leroy Smith begins to collapse his cane. "Before we fight though, I got to know."

"Do you really know whether you have what it takes?"

[LYRAELLE]
A subtle red light beams from an attachment cradled otherwise inconspicuously against the left side of Lyraelle's head and fastened to the curving, black horn that emerges from it. The miniature webcam is the source of the 'Lyra-Cam,' and at present it provides a first-person perspective looking the old man up and down.

"And you must be..."

The camera shifts down to focus on the bulldog next to Leroy.

"...Sugar!!!"

The suddenly-smitten succubus comes bounding up to the sidelines as the bulldog and Leroy's other companion retreat to them, jiggle and ponytail physics alike in full effect as she runs up and then skids to a stop.

"Aww, you're just as pretty in real life as you are on camera," Lyraelle gushes as she places her hands on the knees of her thigh high boots and bends down to make kissy faces at the dog, tail wagging in the air behind her as the simultaneous flashing of dozens of cameras from that direction probably blind the poor pooch.

"Oh, you're a good, good girl! I bet everybody loves you! And if they don't, they're losers anyway!"

Meanwhile, in the livestream chat:

darkxsephiroth: this is just like that time she got distracted by that mirror

The pink-haired demoness stretches a purple-gloved hand out, fluttering her fingers just shy of indulging the temptation to actually pet the dog before clasping her hands together.

"Now, don't worry! Whatever happens with me and your daddy, I'm sure that someone will be around to feed you and give you a nice home!"

She straightens back up, though her fingers remain intertwined and the posture of her thighs and elbows tight. Her hands tilt to one side as her head does, eyebrows bending as she lets out a sound so laden with joy that it almost seems to screen loop into sadness: "AwwWwwW!! o/~"

After another moment, she lets her arms drop to her sides and draws in a deep breath through her nostrils. Her head turns toward Leroy, just enough to signal that he's on her radar; enough that she could be looking at him sidelong over her shoulder, if the bangs at the side of her face weren't obscuring her green eyes from him. Her posture changes; back arching, shoulders relaxing and yet taking on a domineering confidence, weight shifting onto one hip.

By the time that she turns her face over her shoulder fully, she's gone from a sopping puppy fangirl to man-eating hell-maiden, the sly smirk on her face broadening as a second wave of camera flashes erupts behind her.

"Now, I seem to recall hearing you complain about Russia being too cold for your old bones, old man."

The transformation is completed by the change in her tone from heartbroken with joy to that of a sultry heartbreaker as Lyraelle turns to face Leroy with her right hand on her hip and her left held casually next to her stomach. She snaps the fingers of her left hand, and a viridian gout of flame flickers into existence, raging atop her palm.

"I'm sure I can find a way or two to help you with that."

The Demon Queen gives the old martial artist a coquettish wink.

Now staring each other down, the disparity in effect of the Russian March air on the two fighters is all the more stark, especially as the pink-haired hellion saunters over to her place in the ring across from Leroy with hips a-swaying.

For her part, Lyraelle hasn't taken any measures whatsoever to protect herself beyond the usual, with just as much of her infernal perfection on display as her last beachside summer sighting, yet there's no sign of discomfort on the scantily-clad succubus' features. Whether this is due to her hellish core providing some blanket tolerance for cold temperatures or simply immunity to the effects of her own fanservice is a matter of speculation (one currently raging through FightTube chat).

"And as for whether I have what it takes? I've got two words for you, old man."

She closes her fist around the green blaze, snuffing it out harmlessly between her fingers before turning her hand over and fluttering her fingers to dust a few remaining sparks onto the cobbled ground.

"Hell, yes," the Demon Queen says as she adjusts into a fighting stance, turning her left hand back up and beckoning with her fingers before lowering it parallel to her other arm.

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle has started a fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Lyraelle         0/-------/------=|

COMBATSYS: Leroy Smith has joined the fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Leroy Smith      0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0         Lyraelle

[LEROY SMITH]
Sugar, for her purposes, knows how to work the camera.

Eyes wide, tongue out, she pants hot and heavy, giving the folks watching the streams exactly what they want. Slurping a bit, she rolls over, exposing her belly for Lyraelle to just rub. Lyraelle may finally have competition in Russia, and that competition is Sweetah Than Sugah.

That is, until she is suspending for violating the TOS.

Leroy, for his purposes, finishes collapsing his cane, and puts it away into his back belt. "Hey now, Sugar, don't you be wooing that young lady. She's not gonna be able to fight straight if you gotten her all drunk on your doggie charms." Sugar makes a slurping loving sound, as she scratches her leg on reflex. Leroy brings his feet together, before spreading into the wide stance of Wing Chun. Tightly, swiftly getting his arms, his relaxed presence is hammered in with the tight body of the martial artist. "You'll need to be offering a lot more than pretty words though, kid." He states with a warning. "Cause when you hear that bell-"

The bell rings.

Leroy Smith is suddenly at Lyraelle's flank. Moving with a blend of smooth grace with frightening speed and precision, he bursts with a jabbing low kick slashing harshly at Lyraelle's leg. Rising up, he circles around and away from Lyraelle with a a pair of swift and sweeping hand blows with the left and right, smashing at the neck and right under the rib cage with the presence of... routine. Like it was almost pure muscle memory.

"You're gonna need to show me a little more than pretty words."

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle dodges Leroy Smith's Cautious Dragon.

[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Leroy Smith      0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0         Lyraelle

[LYRAELLE]
At the moment that the bell rings, Lyraelle's ears twitch visibly, seeming to sharpen. The mercurial Queen's demeanour shifts in anticipation, her body tensing even as her smirk broadens.

"Don't worry, old man..." the demoness coos in a low voice as she moves with a fluidity and speed to match Leroy's. To the untrained eye of the average audience member, the fighters could almost seem to blur from position to position, Lyraelle first dancing back and lifting her knee up high to let the jabbing kick swing under it, then twisting and leaning to let the sweeping strikes nearly brush against her stomach and neck before passing harmlessly by as she whirls around in the other direction. Her movements appear impossibly casual for their speed, but only because of what essentially amounts to frame drop for the viewers. She looks back over her shoulder, smiling at the Wing Chun master.

"...I've got plenty more pretty things to show you than just words."

Then, abruptly, she whirls back around, a crackling whip of green hellfire sizzling into existence like a fiery snake leaping from a pit towards prey. The leathery bat wings folded behind her unfurl with their full majesty as she leaps away from Leroy, the burning whip lashing out in a broad swing to try and strike across Leroy's chest, the flames threatening to bite at his jacket in an attempt to lick at the skin beneath.

"Let me know if it's hot enough for you, gramps~"

COMBATSYS: Leroy Smith full-parries Lyraelle's Imperious Scourge!!

[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Leroy Smith      0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0         Lyraelle

[LEROY SMITH]
Well she passed the first test.

The dance from Lyraelle was swift and precise, almost an exercise or demonstration in apperance. They were blurring, their motions going so fast. When he repositions behind her, he doesn't stop moving, lunging in. As she turns, he lets slip a growl of a compliment.

"You're hot, I'll give you that."

He sways in, rushing in fast and low. As the whip comes around, there is a firm but gentle parry precisely upon the wrist of Lyraelle. And from there, Leroy Smith follows her movement as an extension of her own body. The whip lash comes out, and his feet move precisely and quickly, riding along with the force as he turns, almost dead locking right at the same position at Lyraelle's flank no matter how much she moved. It might be annoying. It might be charming. But the old man lets it go when he suddenly firms up, stopping the whip from coming across back at him at the wrist. "But if you wanna show me, you better do it in my good eye."

And he begins to punch.

A rapid fire chain of five punches roll out in a split second, aimed straight at the base of her ribs at her back. Circling with the push, a second chain bursts out aimed at her back. If the question of how it would end in the front came up, it would be answered as Leroy finishes with a fierce chop at the throat, waking up to break away with grim focus. No lust, no envy.

Just methodical martial arts from a worn old man.

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle parries Leroy Smith's Chain Punch - Stem EX!

[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////////  ]
Leroy Smith      0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0         Lyraelle

[LYRAELLE]
The spectacle of the elder martial artist keeping Lyraelle at lash's length is, well, spectacular - the scorching whip manages to taste only the Russian March air as it whirls, sparks of infernal chi slathering onto the stonework and scoring sulphurous black stains as it's held at bay. Her ears prick at his words, white teeth biting into her lip and emerald eyes flitting toward him as he flanks her. Those paying close enough attention could recognize the subtle rise in her chest as she breathes sharply in through her nostrils in the split second wherein he finds the opening of her exposed back.

As the first punch hammers in, another blur of motion takes place. In the space of a moment, the Demon Queen is suddenly bent deep in front of Leroy, a provocative pose serving to take her ribs out of harm's way as the displaced air from the rapid-fire punches sends ripples across her lower back and hips through flesh and fabric alike as her hands slap against her knees, the whip having already vanished in a puff of smoke.

In the interim between the martial bursts, Lyraelle whirls back around and upright, her arms now stretching above her head as she sways and twists out of the way of each blow, her rising confidence allowing each punch to brush painlessly against the sides and curves of her chest without conceding purchase. There's an electric sensation building like static off of the fabric of her leotard and, curiously, her skin, but there's little time to process such considerations in the lightning-fast duel.

At the conclusion of the second chain, the succubus is still wearing the intensely focused expression, eyes locked on Leroy and teeth pressed lightly against her lips - which curve abruptly upward at the corners in a blink-and-you'll-miss-it grin.

The chop toward the throat comes, and Lyraelle leans her head back, cleavage pushing up as if to fulfill the old man's request as his hand knifes past it, and then with sudden violence the momentum turns back: the curved black horns at the sides of Lyraelle's head crackle with sudden blue lightning as her grinning face reverses out of her rearward lean and smashes toward Leroy's wool cap in what could prove to be a truly electrifying headbutt (and a jarring experience for the LyraCam viewers at home).

"Hope you're watching close," she says in a silky tone as she looks to exploit the potential opening, reaching forward in an attempt to grab the elder fighter by the shoulders before imposing herself on him, intent on slinging her thighs around his waist and settling her weight on him while he's off-balance.

"Let me warm you up~ <3"

If she manages to capture him, she'll slide her arms under his to trap him further before taking him on a ride up into the sky with a mighty push of her wings... before turning upside down and spiralling back downward with the intent of piledriving him head-first into Red Square, accompanied by an explosion of burning green essence shot through with streaks of blue lightning!

COMBATSYS: Leroy Smith blocks Lyraelle's Demondriver EX.

[     \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////////  ]
Leroy Smith      0/-------/--=====|=====--\-------\0         Lyraelle

[LEROY SMITH]
Sugar barks as Lyraelle shows off.

Arf arfing at the demoness in outrage at the show, Leroy himself seems to be missing it. He can follow the movement, shifting and swaying as he tracks after Lyraelle, not making contact. The headbutt comes out, and he catches it, sharp wing chun blocks coming with a groan of pain. It works for the horns. 5R
But not the lightning.

A grapple comes, strong arms, strong grip. The grips comes for the shoulders and he neatly wrenches his hands to deflect the grabs there, reversing the grip on them as she goes right for the waist. As those thighs come howling to his own hips, Leroy swings his burnt hands around, and goes to catch her on the inside of her thighs, to keep them apart. That was the last straw; and he cannot stop the raw power of the demoness. He knocked backwards, and lands hard on the stone tile of the Red Square. At the very least he manages to escape Lyraelle riding the lightning on his ass, but the rough landing and crackling energy still over him revealed far too many weaknesses. Sugar continues to bark and yip, panting as she watching Leroy rise up. Instinctively, he brings his hand to his head.

Where did his nice warm cap go %R
"Sorry, you're nice and all, but you're no Sugar." He states as he rapidly forces himself up into a stand, falling hard back into his stance before he chases Lyraelle. He doesn't waste time, he attacks. The first pair of high punches burst out, one with the left and one with the right, strong stinging jabs bursting swiftly to pressure high. Testing the defense, seeking the weakness. He finishes with a swift slashing blow at her cheek, attempting drive a palm strike straight into the face. As a finisher. Constant pressure, constant moving in spite of the clear pain he was showing his joints and palms.

All with the restrained air of a tired veteran.

COMBATSYS: Leroy Smith successfully hits Lyraelle with Medium Punch.
- Power hit! -

[    \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////        ]
Leroy Smith      0/-------/-======|=======\=------\1         Lyraelle

[LYRAELLE]
Try as she might to get on top of Leroy, Lyraelle finds her advances rebuffed. By the time that he manages to pull himself away from her clutches, she's left in the lurch, her previously poised posture now slightly stooped, her bosom heaving lightly as she pants, eyes fixing on the old man with a predatory gleam.

"Oh, I've got plenty of sugar. It balances out the spice," she calls back in a kittenish response, winking and tilting her head - the charm of which is undercut slightly by the sound of her neck cracking with the motion.

As Leroy charges once more, Lyraelle lifts her left arm up to fend off the first punch. The second, though, catches her out, slipping her guard and blinding her briefly. Causing her to stagger back, it gives just enough of an opening for Leroy's palm to plow past her raised arm and -


*SMACK*

- right into her left cheek, turning the pink-haired hell-maiden's head with the force as she teeters backward, clutching her left glove to the side of her face in shock.

"You...!!"

The audacity of Leroy Smith to bitch slap Her Infernal Majesty Queen Lyraelle Darkheart on live television - nevermind that it's also in the midst of a sanctioned fight - seems to fill the Demon Queen with a rage of unholy heat. Arcs of lightning shoot through her, her eyes flashing momentarily blue as she grinds her teeth in anger. The electrical display fades after a moment, leaving her green gaze lingering on Leroy as she recovers. Her composure regained, the succubus smirks, though the simmering heat can still be seen behind her emerald eyes as she addresses Leroy:

"Since I can see from your robes that you're a priest..."

She lifts off from the square, rising up on her dark wings above the Square as a cold wind blows through, the first few flakes of an impending snowfall steaming as they touch her skin.

"...I'm gonna respond to that like a good little Christian girl..."

Her wings beat once more, and then, she starts to twirl rapidly around -

"...and turn the other cheek!!"

- and, after a half-revolution (Russia having, after all, seen enough full ones), flaps her wings away from Leroy with a mighty surge that sends the succubus soaring toward the old man, presenting him with not one, but two cheeks in answer to his affront. Lyraelle's legs swing up for extra aerodynamicism as she hurtles backside-first toward Leroy, intending to bowl him over with surprising speed and, if she can manage, to pin the elder fighter prone beneath her.

Should she succeed in connecting with him, Leroy may find himself surprised (depending on his expectations) to find the demonette's weapon of choice abuzz with electrical energy - though at a faint current that is actually strangely more pleasant than painful. It may be sufficient to dull his senses from detecting the slithering of Lyraelle's insidious tail as it would aim to wind around his nearest arm and start to siphon his vital essence while she would pose for the crowd...!

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle issues a challenge!!

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Leroy Smith      0/-------/-======|=======\=------\1         Lyraelle

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle successfully hits Leroy Smith with Royal Requisition - Dark Queen's Throne.
! VENGEANCE !

[             \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////       ]
Leroy Smith      1/----===/=======|-------\-------\0         Lyraelle

[LEROY SMITH]
To be fair, if he was serious, there might have been some baby powder on there.

As the palm strike comes, he doesn't dwell on the emphasis on it. He was aiming to break a bone there. Someone like Lyraelle talks a lot, you mess with the bones and muscles around the jaw, you can let them jabber themselves to pieces. As she mentions the priestly robes, he actually chuckles at that though. It was a mistake. As he keeps moving, attention on the whip. He thought he was ready for the retaliation. But the thing was, he had an idea of what she was going to do. But the wings? He would be scolding himself later to not think about how much she was going to leverage the wings for full mobility. And what she was going to do with the rest of her body. She launches at him, and he has nothing to deflect with, nothing to parry. He might have come up with something, but with the full force of the electrical shock jolting him, he is stunned long enough to be floors. Pinned down under the lady, he gives a bit of a chuckle again...

Until he gets stabbed.

"What the-" He begins, his body aching if his arm was numb. He was confused and pinned, which was bad for an old fighter like himself. Dazed a moment, a sound snaps him out of it. FOr with all the cameras on her, Sugar actually -growls- at Lyraelle. Which normally wouldn't be much, but an unhappy cute doggie is like and subscribe -poison-. Lyraelle might have to scramble as cameras zoom in on a snappy Sugar.

"Take it easy, girl."

Leroy Smith rises back up, grabbing his arm, placing it on the tail. He was gentle on it, trying to figure out the cleanest approach. If it was anything like an IV... ripping it out would be painful. Real painful. Didn't matter how it felt now, he knew what it would be like out. BUt he could feel something coming out, the draining. He reachings down to his robes, around his waist as he writhes. "Sorry about Sugar. That's a heck of a trick you got there, and she's just scared for me." He puts a grip on the tail. Was he gonna pull it out? "She should know a lot better that I got a few tricks of my own." He gets the grip on it. "Here's a lesson for you to keep, kid."

His cane.

With a flick of the wrist, extends his telescopic cane to full length. With the clinch and pin, And from there, he would unleash a singular, sudden thrust, he aims a thrust straight for the back of Lyraelle's ear, where the neck and the skull connect. Whether it connects, he would continue by his grip on the other tail, jerking it as he rises up. There, should he manage to roll her off, he would be forcing space by sweeping the staff all the way around to unleash a staggering two-handed blow straight between Lyraelle's legs. He would then leap up, to slam the cane down hard with a brutal overhead blow between the eyes, before throwing it aside to a now happy Sugar.

WHo was more than happy to catch it in her mouth with her little tail wagging now, letting the likes and subscribes return to full force.

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle endures Leroy Smith's Master's Lesson.

[             \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////                 ]
Leroy Smith      0/-------/--=====|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2         Lyraelle

[LYRAELLE]
Lyraelle is in the middle of blowing a kiss to a nearby cameraman, lounging flirtatiously with one hand propping her up as she maintains her position atop Leroy, when Sugar's unhappy growling cuts through the noise of the audience. Suddenly, the sultry show being put on by the sensual succubus is abandoned by the camera crews like rows of falling dominoes, the belligerent bulldog stealing the show from Her Royal Highness on all but the most dedicated of match-cams. Even Lyraelle's own POV stream finds itself starring Sugar as the Demon Queen's jealous gaze locks in on Sugar, and Her Infernal Majesty sticks out her royal tongue petulantly at the pissed-off pooch.

One could almost swear that Sugar blows a raspberry back.

'Take it easy, girl.'

"What's the matter, old man? Heart can't handle the excitement?" she taunts over her shoulder. When he grabs hold of her tail a moment later, her pointed ears flatten and body tenses - grabbing for the tail is an expected response, but it means that he's likely to try and unseat her, and the potential for retaliation is often a danger with this particular maneuver.

'She should know a lot better that I got a few tricks of my own.'

"Is that so?"

'Here's a lesson for you to keep, kid.'

And then Leroy's rod is telescoping out, thrusting at her weak point - and the blow smacks right behind the right ear, causing Lyraelle to flinch in pain, her left eye shutting tight as her teeth clench. The tail comes off of Leroy like a salted leech as he pushes up from beneath her, causing her to stumble to her feet, and the cane swings up between her thighs -

*SMACK*

- resulting in the Demon Queen's green eyes going wide as Leroy's extended shaft teaches her a lesson to remember. It seems that the child of Hell will not be spoiled by the Wing Chun master - and as she's clutching toward the fresh injury and turning around to face her foe, the cane comes down on her crown, driving her to a knee.

"So... that's the kind of play you're into, huh?" the hell-maiden mutters, looking up through her open eye at Leroy.

Though she's down on one knee, and a trickle of blood is starting to run down her cheek from beneath her pink mane, something becomes immediately clear - she is definitely not incapacitated.

Suddenly, she's lunging up, straight toward Leroy's midsection, aiming to drive her right shoulder into him and carry him off his feet, up and up into the air.

"Let's try my thing now, daddy!"

If she should manage to have her way, she'll carry him up high above the square before whirling around and hurling him by his arm back to Earth before raising her right hand up toward the clouds above. As the wind would continue to drive the snow around her, she would rapidly gather infernal energy above her outstretched fingers, an incandescent green fireball blazing into existence like a hellish substitute for the obscured sun - only to be directed malevolently down toward her foe in the aftermath of the forced descent...!

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle successfully hits Leroy Smith with #Royal Decree - Banishment#.

[                          \\\\  < >  //////////////                ]
Leroy Smith      1/--=====/=======|-------\-------\0         Lyraelle

[LEROY SMITH]
Leroy Smith barely had time to fall back into his defensive stance.

Hands up, Lyraelle was already moving into retaliation. She rushes for the torso, and- how do you parry a human bullet, demoness or otherwise? He does manage to strike her to deflect the shoulder slightly. That's the best he can do, as he is sent up in the air. Helpless over the square, he doesn't flail. Exhaling, he is helpless in the air. So he takes the fall? No. He is sent hurtling down into his own personal crater, slamming hard with a flash of lightning which was totally there and mentioned, with the fireball descending down to blast him while he's down. Choking, he lays in the aftermath. body burning, clothing in tatters. He should have stayed down.

But he wasn't a man who stayed down, was he?

"Don't got a lot left kid." He says But I did this because they needed an old master to do it. Here's the last test." Leroy leaps up, ad leads in with a opening kick at Lyraelle's midsection, staggering as his speed seems to be withering away. "Pass, you get your belt." He unleashes a double palm strike towards the base of the ribs. "Miss out?" Then he chains into a rapid-fist burst of 5 strikes, one set, then two. He sock sa swift punch right at the cheek he hit before. "Well I heard that Kasumi kid is still taking challenges." He wraps up with a knife hand blow right at the ribs for Lyraelle, before finishing with a one-inch punch that... misfires. Sugar barks loudly, as she runs into the square.

Leroy Smith collapses back down to the ground, clutching his chest as he falls.

COMBATSYS: Leroy Smith can no longer fight.

[                \\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Lyraelle         0/-------/----<<<|

COMBATSYS: Leroy Smith successfully hits Lyraelle with Chain Punch - Execution.
-* CRITICAL HIT! *-

[                            \\  <
Lyraelle         1/----<<</<<<<<<<|

[LYRAELLE]
High above the Square, Lyraelle surveys the carnage wrought by her hellfire ball with a faint smirk, drawing a slow breath in through her nostrils before blurring and reappearing on the ground in a crouch. She still has that haughty expression as she saunters up to the burnt martial arts master, her left hand on her hip and right arm bent casually at the elbow, hand raised so that she can blow across her right palm as if to cool it off and dispel any lingering sulphurous smoke around it. As she does, a crackling blue spark arcs between her fingertips.

"Bones all toasty now, old man?" she teases, not even looking at him.

'...Here's the last test.'

Lyraelle's eyes flit up as Leroy leaps back to his feet. Still smirking, she lets out a disdainful exhalation through her nostrils and catches the kick aimed at her midsection with her forearm. Her supernaturally tough limb seems to absorb the impact with ease.

'Pass, you get your belt.'

The double palm strike slams toward her abdomen. Turning at the waist, she allows her right wing to intercept the attack before twisting it back out of the way as she retreats.

'Miss out?'

Leroy's hands blur, and so do hers, palms snapping from pose to pose as she casually deflects her punch, concluding with a push of a palm and tilt of her head to ensure that the punch toward her cheek narrowly misses. The look in her eyes says that her victory is practically assured as she smiles at him.

'Well I heard that Kasumi kid is still taking challenges.'

"I don't think I'll be needing -"

*CRACK*

The knife hand blow slips past her Royal guard as she retorts, cutting her words short as her eyes suddenly go wide.

The strike shouldn't be enough to shift the balance, and yet -

Nuh uh.

The words penetrate Lyraelle's mind as she goes stiff as an involuntary response to the pain suddenly ripping through her abdomen, a misplaced echo driving into her head as she flinches, mouth moving to form words but finding no air in her lungs to give them life. She gives a rattling wheeze -

*CRUNCH*

- and then the final punch hammers home, driving into her chest and knocking her to the ground. She writhes on the stonework, wings and legs forming an angel in the freshly fallen snow before she rolls onto her side, hand cradling her ribs. Her eyes turn to Leroy, also fallen, then shift toward an official approaching to verify the result of the match. She calls out weakly as she feels something going very wrong inside her lungs.

"Wait... no... I can... I..."

Fais tranquille, petite fille.

"I... I got him... first...!"

Ton moment, c'est volee? Trop dommage.

"S...Sugar... help... me..."

The demoness' glossy green eyes turn pathetically to the approaching pooch as she lolls helplessly to the side.

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle exercises her royal prerogative of non-action.


COMBATSYS: Lyraelle can no longer fight.


[LEROY SMITH]
Sugar stops right before Lyraelle.

Tilting her head to the side, she is looking at the downed demoness, mouth shut with curiousity. Her head tilts the other way, before her tail begins to wag. And then, ignoring Leroy Smith, her own master, she waddles over to Lyraelle, tongue sticking out as she opens her mouth. Everyone watching the streams, for a brief moment, could see that the adorable doggie Sugar preferring Lyraelle over the old man. For a brief moment, there is a surge of hope. That hope quickly dies out as the doggie turns around at the helpless Lyraelle.

Sugar sits on Lyraelle's face, panting happily as she looks directly at the camera.

The judges stare at the aftermath of the fight exposed before them. Turning to each other, they review their notes, and mutter to each other. "I think by the rules... that's a legitimate DKO, so the belt remains with Leroy Smith."

"Nyet. It is interference. Leroy is disqualified."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Nyet. It is interference."

"She was awake. Then dog come over, sit on her. If dog did not get involved, Lyraelle would have won."

"Well it's just a dog."

"She wins belt."

"Now come on Ivan, I know you've been subscribing to her stream for a while but aren't you showing a little bias?"

"I like the big boobs, and the whip, and that has nothing to affect my professionalism. Dog is cheater. Leroy Smith is cheater. He is disqualified."

"There is no evidence that the dog is trying to force a DKO here for her master, Ivan-"

Sugar shuts her mouth for a moment, letting out a short, wet fart, before opening her mouth again to pant happily.

"Okay okay yes Sugar is definately vengeful, I'm voting for disqualification too."

Digital fanfare erupts out, as the screen freezes for the people back home, as the downed Lyraelle is heralded the champion belt holder. For the Blue Regional Championship Belt, for all of history to hold, the ultimate champion and true winner Lyraelle had won by disqualification of her opponent, due to illegal interference. For all the future challenges, all can look upon this moment of Lyraelle defiantly positioned in supplication of her opponent, while a dog sits there looking happily beside her, associated forever to her victory.

It will be up to the courage of her minions later if they will helpfully label which one is Lyraelle in the screenshot.

Log created on 12:31:07 03/19/2021 by Leroy Smith, and last modified on 11:57:03 03/21/2021.