When Karen had first come to LAW, she had stressed to the management that she would take on ANYONE. It didn't matter how big they were, how skilled they were, or whether they were guys or girls: Karen was willing to fight anyone. The tougher the opponent, the better, she had declared. The management must have listened, as they had been throwing her into more and more intergender matches as of late: first against Finlay, then against Black Severin, then Mateo. And now Karen had been attracting enough attention that they were throwing her against one of the most well-known male wrestlers in the league: "Domino" Drake Vyril.
Karen had seen more than a few of Domino's matches. She had to admit, the guy was good. It was no wonder that he had a pretty huge fanbase-- although that, she noted, was also probably because of his looks: the guy was attractive, and he made no effort to hide it. As she closed the locker room door, she suppressed a smile at the thought. Get your head in the game, Karen she thought to herself. "Focus on beating his ass instead of...well, his ass. He has fangirls for that.
She took a few breaths, checked herself over in the mirror, and did a few more quick stretches before her music began to play. Welp, that was her cue: without skipping a beat, she turned and strode off into the arena. Spoiler
Spoiler
She was met by a chorus of cheers from the crowds as she stood on the walkway, wearing a New Zealand All Blacks t-shirt over her ring gear while Nagual’s signature haka trap remix blared around her. Hopping down the ring, she enthusiastically hi-fived her fans, all the while eagerly lip-syncing the blared haka lyrics. The sheer enthusiasm of the crowd always invigorated her; it always gratified her that some small-town Kiwi girl like her could get cheered by a crowd an ocean away from home.
“Our first competitor, standing at five-foot-six and weighing one hundred and fifty pounds…from Dunedin, New Zealand…KAREN GAAAAALE!”
Striding into the ring, Karen eagerly hopped up onto the ring and dropped to her knees, arching back to raise her arms to the crowd, basking in their cheers. Finally, she stood back up and, peeling her shirt off, stepped back to the center of the ring, waiting to see what Drake's entrance would look like...
Domino's had a career laced with ups and downs. A majority of downs predated his signing on with LAW, but not for performance issues. No, these issues haunted his footsteps from the other side of his life - the other side of the coin that makes up his dual existence. Women certainly had it easier being models on the side. But men? That taboo clung to him like a t-shirt two sizes too small.
Prettyboy.
Faker.
Tourist.
A plethora of things he'd been called in his career, all because of the other career he refused to be harangued out of.
It wasn't very different when he first joined LAW. But at least he was promised a chance. A chance to prove himself. A chance to shut up doubters. A chance to make it big when the biggest hurdle in his way was the management itself. And so far, his record has been a little mixed. Some convincing wins, but also some unfortunate losses - one of which born just out of the complete inexperience in wrestling with women. Thankfully that much has lost its novelty. It'll never be perfectly normal for him, but the more people he can wrestle with proven pedigree, the more of those he can overcome, the better.
When he was told who his opponent would be, he looked her up. She'd had an interesting career, herself - and an absolutely killer body. She's strong. Tough. Pinning her will move the needle. So tonight, he's ready. Ready to take the next step in securing his name.
The arena darkens, and a quiet falls over the audience. His music kicks on.
Lights glitter throughout the open air of the space, a pair of spotlights sweeping over the audience. The anticipation builds, cameras focusing at the top of the ramp.
Domino's entrance isn't explosive; it's proud. Purposeful. Dignified. The black and white boots step out onto the stage, and the spotlights whirl around to focus on him, bathing his body in light as the audience begins to roar. He's over with them; and that's the soul of his career now. He's won them through the pain and pressure of every match he's wrestled. But there are detractors out there. And there remain doubters in the office. He can feel it. So no matter what, until he has what he wants - he can't relent.
His head turns, amethyst gaze sweeping over the audience from left to right with a confident, appreciative smile on his smooth face. There's a nod of acknowledgment here and there. And suddenly, the arms swing wide to either side, presenting his full and sleekly chiseled self to them for their approval, accompanied with a pair of tall, cascading white cold sparks at either side.
"And her opponent!," continues the announcer. "Coming in at five-foot-ten, and weighing one hundred and eighty-eight pounds!"
"From Providence, Rhode Island!"
"DOOOOMINOOOO!" Standing confidently.
He strides down the ramp, favoring the left side to accept high-fives and quick snugs from the more zealous female fans. Upon reaching the ring's apron, he moves aside to climb the steel steps and just as quickly and smoothly slips himself between the top and middle ropes. He does this only to immediately pivot and climb the turnbuckle, shins pressed to the top ropes. His right fist hammers twice over his heart before pointing out at the screaming audience.
He drops with a twist and marches to the opposite corner to repeat the gesture, adding a nod to ensure they all get it. That they all know how significant the audience's support is to him. It isn't something he takes for granted; how could he even consider doing something like that?
Finally, he's ushered back to his corner for the referee-girl's inspection. But those deep purple eyes are only for Karen tonight, studying her with intensity.
Last edited by CyanDimitrik on Fri May 08, 2026 11:47 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Karen had gotten quite a bit of applause when she had made her big entrance, when all the attention had been focused on her. Now, as a spectator, she got to watch another big entrance, one that the fans quickly went wild over. Drake Vyril carried himself with an easy confidence, of someone used to being in the spotlight and making the most of it. Almost like someone used to being on a runway-- Karen had read up that Drake had been a male model before transitioning into wrestling. And Drake definitely had the looks for it.
She took Drake's measure as he slid into the ring. Fit upper body. Really well developed abs. Nicely toned arms and legs. No doubt, Drake would be giving her a run for her money tonight: she was just more than a little curious as to what his ring skills would be like. She noted that Drake was watching her as well, those violet eyes of his peering over at her intently. Let him stare, she thought, leaning a little against her corner and shifting her hips slightly. She hoped he was getting a good look.
And then, once both wrestlers were settled, the bell rang.
Hopping out of her corner, Karen circled Domino, grinning playfully at him as she did so, motioning for a lockup. She wanted to see just how strong this pretty boy actually was...
The kiwi looks comfortable, Domino thinks as he watches her and her hips wiggle. It's kind've cute. More girlie than he might've expected from someone as fit and lean as her. But he doesn't expect that muscletone to be for show. She's going to be strong.
At least, he hopes she is. He needs a strong person to conquer. To show the rest of the world what he's bringing to the table. He doesn't know this bronze-skinned beauty yet. She might be an absolute troll in the personality department. Besides, this isn't a dating service!
Domino takes a quick, inwards breath, and puffs it out in a short cleansing sigh. Dumb thoughts. Dumb intergender wrestling. He's here to do a job. She's the competition. Simple as that.
The referee-girl swings an arm to signal the bell! *DING*
Karen is the first to leave her corner, but Domino follows suit. His pace just happens to be more languid, more confident. He circles with her with easy steps, his back ramrod straight and his gaze settled coolly on her eager face. The two come to a stop, and she motions an invitation to lockup.
Attagirl. If she's sincere in this invitation, that's worth some points in his book. And he's willing to take the chance and see if she's the competitor he hopes she is. The competitor he thinks she is.
Domino closes in with her, finally leaning closer and arms raised. He teases easing in slowly, but soon collides with her in a traditional lockup. His right hand seizes upon her elbow, his left hand sets firmly to her collar, and he immediately attempts to set the stage with her, his pectorals and the smooth muscular definition of his arms flexing visibly to first attempt to match her strength, then try to gradually overpower it and begin walking her back into the corner.
