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Basic Information
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Name: ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Alias / Ring Name: Dot
Age: ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Eyes: ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Hair: ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Height: 5’9”
Weight: 145lbs
Nationality: ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Alignment: Heel (Chaotic Evil)
Entrance Theme: Fungal Funk
[media][/medi]
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Wrestling Philosophy and Style
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Dot is the seed of doubt at the back of every up and comer’s mind, the worm of a question boring rot into even the strongest champion’s foundation—what if I’m not good enough?
”Welllll, that’d just be some terrible luck, wouldn’t it kiddo?”
The digital lynx has no interest in popping off the top rope to raucous applause. What makes her heart sing is to kill that noise by burying the crowd’s favorite hero deep in the mat. She wants to hear an audience boo so loud it shakes the ropes. She wants them disappointed, angry, and — best of all — afraid.
To that end, Dot brings theatricality to degrading brutality. She aims for the face with stiff punches and bone-cracking knees, and she targets the head with piledrivers, tombstones, and suplexes—anything that will make a cheering audience cringe as they bite their tongues. Ow. When her opponent is down, she continues to use high-impact stomps and knee-drops to batter and bash the head until her opponent is too dazed to stand.
That can be enough for some opponents, those with less notoriety who need simply to be tossed down to the lower rungs from whence they came. For wrestlers audiences really cherish, though, Dot intersperses chains of submission moves designed to transition from concussive battery to prolonged torment. She favors technical chokes she can crank to drain the life from her victims before setting up humiliating showpieces—elaborate rope-hung displays, helpless smothers, and dominating chokes.
”And if that seems just awwwwwfully cruel?” she’s said, her faux-sweet tone warbling with synthetic interference on the last phrase. ”well, it’s a cruel game we’re playing, isn’t it sweetums? These people with their WHINING on and on and on and OOOOOON when they wind up cut in a swords’ fight—those simpering fucks deserve worse than they get.”
Style beyond the moves:
Dot’s signature look is her mask, a screen with a black-sheened screen and pink LED lights. Through means presently unknown, this mask allows her to record audio and to interface with the speakers around the ring, projecting whatever she likes—her voice. Music. Her opponent’s adorable hollers.
For all her plain and simmering contempt for the audience, Dot has a theatrical streak. She loves to punctuate her moves with mocking images on her screen, to underline the helplessness of everyone’s dear hero with ironic flourishes of music or distorted voice audio—or to try to drown out a cheering audience with the same techniques.
— Details: Match Flow —
General strategy, Specific Moves, Signatures and Finishers
General strategy, Specific Moves, Signatures and Finishers
Opening: Dot opens her matches leaning on her striking and grappling repertoire—stiff strikes to the head, slams that set up drops to the neck and crossfaces, tie-ups she can grapple into a dominant ground position. When she can get away with it, Dot often weaves low blows and eye rakes into this opening mix—as much to stoke anger as anything else.
From there, Dot adapts to the threat. Some opponents aren’t worth her time, and Dot shows it with a disrespectful style. She gets goofy: for strikes, she has cartoonish slaps. For setup—hairtoss. Pin? A one-foot step. However, this game usually doesn’t last long. One moment, she’s toying with her food with a breast smother—then, bam. She lifts her opponent and shuts her down with one sickening GTS knee to the face.
Finisher: Flatliner (GTS)
Signature Move: Mic Check (Skullbash)
Signature Move: Feedback Spike (Lawn Dart)
Signature Move: Track Kill (Tiger Driver / Facebuster)
Signature Move: Noise Filter (STF)
Finisher: Fade Out (Triangle Choke)
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Background
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By now Spectre is well-known to LAW as a predator without mercy, who accumulates vast troves of information about her prey so that she can destroy them—physically. Emotionally. Psychologically. When the Malevolent Virus first hit the scene, she seemed to command something almost like dark magic. When she was near, lights flickered and her face rose, glowing, on every screen within a five square mile radius. She could rappel from nowhere, kidnap her prey, and then slip into complete mystery.
We now know the source of this preternatural ability—a vast, well-organized network of aid and abetment with access to resources spanning the gamut from digital warfare to improvised pyrotechnics. If Spectre is that network’s commander in chief, then Dot is their chief of staff. Their general. Wherever Speck sinks her dagger, Dot is not far behind, waiting in the shadows for an opportunity — any opportunity — to enhance the reach of the Virus.
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In-Ring Traits
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Your Gain, Her Loss
Some people think that best wrestling matches are like the collisions of tectonic plates, that the mountains that erupt along the fautlines of the conflict elevate both wrestlers to heights of glory they could never have achieved alone.
Dot would say those silly billikin losers can tell themselves all the lies they like. Life is a pie only winners get to eat. Yes, she can recognize when an opponent is conjuring a miracle. Of course she gets the same sense of awe as anyone when she watches her opponent corkscrew four times mid-air.
And all that breathless wonder makes her feel so small it makes her heart wither. If that magnificent moounsault crushes her spine, who’s going to pick her up or celebrate her supposed second place try?
Not a soul. As it should be. With this solitary wind at her back, she sets out to punish talent, beauty, and strength with a boot pressed on her opponent’s throat.
Unshakeable Loyalty
—Solitary, that is, except for Spectre, which is, granted, a continent-sized exception.
What makes Spectre special is not simply that she likes, respects, and defends Dot. Those are nice—those are beautiful. But what made Dot latch onto Spectre with a bulldog’s ferocity was that she made Dot feel…useful. More than useful, really. Like the kind person someone else depended on, who trusted her implicitly, even when the stakes were stomach-droppingly high.
What does that mean in the ring? It means that if Spectre says bark, she barks. It means an attack on Spectre is an attack on Dot, no matter who you are or what leverage you might think you have. It means that losing isn’t just a dent in Dot’s record; it’s a dent in her reliability as a top-of-the-line tool.
And it means that if Spectre starts to slip, no one is going to give her more shit than the Digital Lynx—who expects no exceptions for herself. When she fails, she bends her neck for the punishment, which usually involves a night strapped into one of the torture devices Spectre uses to terrorize their victims.
Plays with Her Food
Dot has fun—and for her, fun is theatre. She likes pretending. She likes to greet the audience, to shake hands with her opponent.
Sometimes she likes to get goofy. Even she can’t take a catgirl with an emoji face seriously all the time. You know she’s in one of these moods when she pantomimes, tossing herself around the stage with the exaggerated bombast of a silent-movie actor. Her rare moments of rapport with the audience strike when she hits a deserving heel with a pratfall lowblow or bullies and unloved loser with a completely silly hair-toss.
Sometimes she likes to get goofy because she enjoys just how fast she can kill that mood. It’s fun to make the audience laugh, but it’s more fun to watch that smirk turn into a look of horror as they wonder — did she just concuss that poor girl?
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Current Matches / Match History
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