Beep, Boop. Beep, Boop. Virus Detected! Eshe Abdallah vs. Spectre

[ScoutLils]

The Egyptian didn’t like this at all, not one bit, it reminded her of her cousin; just as mean, and just as hurtful as them. Back then, her father would always come to her rescue nail she was able to do it herself but there was no one that could stop Spectre, no one but her. However, Eshe didn’t have an opening, forced to follow along like a puppy on a leash she had no idea what was coming next with her vision obscured from her hair and the hold pressing her face against their abdomen.

With a sharp twist, Eshe’s destination was finally revealed, her body was practically thrown into the steel steps. ”GAUGH!” She exclaims as she slowly slips down the stairs face, the Violet felt a stinging burning pain on her side, grimacing as she was now on the back foot while Speck was still on the up and up. Eshe’s gaze would slowly trickle upward, the Virus treating this as nothing more than some childish game, like she was taunting her all the while trying to demean her. She wasn’t going to going to get upset or even explode with anger, her mother taught her better than to do that but she couldn’t just turn the other cheek either.

Just as she slipped a boot under her rump to try and push herself upward using the stairs flat face to rise, Soeck made a rather cute comment of what she thought was cute. She could agree with that, she liked being soft, it’s why she worked so hard to maintain her figure, maybe Speck was only playing but did it have to be so extra?

She could see her adversary was distracted and wasted her opportunity. Her tanned leg drew back towards her core before she fired it upward to slam into that awaiting pale thigh of theirs. Granted Eshe found her mark, she’d use the steps to push, aiming to send them down to the ground while she recovered, she was going to need a good few seconds to find her bearings after all that.

[Monsy]

Despite her expression’s flare, this match was topping her month so far. Combat-wise, Eshe followed her designs and models perfectly. Easily dispatchable, controllable and rather cute on the downturn. She resembled a scared rabbit. The core variable of a delicious chase. Oh the options. Two were at the forefront for victory: stretching out those legs or yanking that hair till submission.

But as she salivated over both images, in came option C: getting donkey kicked!

“Ggh!” Spectre’s hips were driven back with rippling vibrations in her whole upper leg. A small WHAP gave the connection a nice echo against pale flesh. She spun a half-rotation, then crashed onto a knee, perhaps face-planting if she didn’t grab the barricade. The raw throbbing squeeze kept her grounded for those good few seconds. A wince over her left eye carved a high-strung that pulled her up. She nursed the new faint-red spot, then huffed out a rebuttal…

Breathing did her good. A good few long draws while pulling herself up with the barricade satiated the worse of it. Then a disgusting, sweaty, infectious, ill-proportioned and decrepit hand shoved her head. She didn’t see it. Her attention snapped to the monstrous crowd, backing up and gingerly touching her hair in revulsion while her nose tugged up. She spat a missile at some guy, then turned head towards the timekeeper’s table. She gave said keeper a flying big boot from his respective seat, tipping him and his chair back to sleep-land. His torso became a stepping stone onto the chair, then the table. With a parading trample, all the papers, electronics and charts went shooting or twirling off.

Spectre bent over, swiped the mic in one hand and the ring bell in the other. She faced the crowd, pointing at the rows in front on a slow swivel.

“Whoever touched my head, I’ll have you know, that your days are positively NUMBERED! You come here, and disgrace yourself, thinking I won’t find you. WELL I WILL! Whether it’s now or six months from now at a local market, I will F I N D you.”