L.A.W. - League of Anime Wrestling

Reminiscing about one's wrestling career typically comes within its twilight years when beset with gray hair and numerous health issues. Yet here Dasher stood. At the peak of his profession (in his opinion) and having become somewhat of a divisive figure within the world of puroresu with those either rallying behind his manful warcry or decrying him as a villainous and chauvinistic figure in the sport he so cherishes. Dasher having now secluded himself within his private and practically palatial dressing room as he gazed over the trafficked streets beneath him having long since donned his wrestling gear and robe tied around his waist. The ignominious challenge he issued some time ago having taken on a life of its own thanks to online discourse. Once upon a time there was no shortage of challengers eager to etch their name in the annals of wrestling history by besting the strongstyle legend, but now those numbers were beginning to wane after having seen what becomes of those that rather than leave the ring with their head held high...leave on a stretcher with their head in the clouds. Dasher thinking upon the wrestlers of his generation and how the times have changed before swiveling around with a huff once his time had come.

Dasher through opened doors and was now being escorted out of his dressing room by his trainers and wrestling pupils in tracksuits. Cameras flashing and his name being echoed down the hallways as Dasher calmly waltzed towards the gorilla position while clad in his pitch-black robe with a white sash around its waist and the Japanese caricatures for "Muscle" on its broad back. The broad-shouldered grappler would keep his head tilted down with all the taciturn professionalism of a champion prize fighter as he strode throughout the hallways and besieged by peppered questions from journalists all going unanswered. Only once Dasher and his tracksuited entourage step through the curtains did the naysayers denying his inclusion within LAW's roster become permanently silenced, die-hard fans chanting his name alongside the cacophonous reverberation within LAW's Tokyo arena bringing a championship level aura to what was still merely one innocuous match scheduled around many.

Inoba Bom-ba-ye

Several attendants dutifully clearing the way for him and widening the gap in the top and middle ropes as he climbed inside, black and white streamers now flying all around the ring. The pulsating enthusiasm of his LAW debut dying down after several minutes alongside his theme music, Dasher then calmly raising his mic upward to address the crowd with particular attention directed towards the hard camera in the audience. "...To think. There was once upon a time where this hallowed profession was once practiced by true gladiators. Warriors who dared not to profane this sacred ring with debauched chicanery, provocative perversion, and those who actually believe in the misconstrued fantasy that women have any place engaging in a grappling competition with a hardened veteran of my own renowned ilk. However, it appears that I have favorable news to report on this front. The line of challengers stepping up has drastically dwindled it appears. Those frothing at the bit to prove me wrong have now become meek and timid pups. Those who once dared to step up have apparently stepped aside. And I cannot blame them after seeing what becomes of my so-called challengers. Perhaps my lesson is finally beginning to take root, and my point thoroughly proven. Nevertheless, I will carry on until the day comes where none dare to step through those ropes. For now...I once again issue HEREBY DECLARE THE DASHER CHALLENGE!!! Come forth whoever is left that dares to test their luck!!!" Dasher bellowed before beginning to discard his robe, revealing his newly acquired arm tattoos and even trimmed haircut.

Dasher Inoba

Dasher always loved a good speech. Angela was refreshed to know that some things just never changed.

She had been in the back, getting ready for a match, when he’d come out and made his presence known. It was only by happenstance that she was near a screen when he’d started up, with her only paying half attention to what was happening, but his words drew her attention right away. More specifically, the sound of his voice - God, how long had it been? Years. Decades? Maybe. It was hard to keep track of things now. It wasn’t uncommon for her to remember something happening one way, then look back on a tape and find it went down the opposite.

But she remembered his voice. That boisterous baritone, the perfect fit for a man of his stature. It was a little different now, tinged with the wear and tear that came with age, but the tenor was unmistakable, as were the feelings that came along with it. A warm summer night, a hotel room, champagne…

Angela had a deep, happy sigh with a warm smile, one that grew wider when he made his challenge. His views on the world of wrestling hadn't changed. It had been something she chided him for even back then, and from the sound of things, he was long overdue for another lesson, one she was more than eager to give.

Change of plans. Her arranged match for the night would have to wait. After a quick stop by the booth to make the queue up her

, she was ready.

Time goes by so slowly…
Time goes by so slowly…
Time goes by so slowly…
Time goes by so slowly…

She came out from behind the curtain, microphone in hand, and made her way down to the ring as the crowd cheered her on. Though it had been a good while since her last match, wrestling fans had a good memory, and her instant classic with Alicia Soto stuck in their mind. Though she’d come out losing against the talented Hollywood Siren, she had still shown the world why she was a force to be reckoned with, and by the looks of things, she was about to do so again.

Angela made her way up the steps and slipped through the ropes, facing off with Dasher, looking her fellow veteran over from top to bottom. She kept her face cool and placid, giving nothing away, with only the barest hint of a grin to serve as a clue for what was going on underneath. For a moment, she said nothing, did nothing. She simply stood and contemplated.

When that moment passed, she stepped forward, opened her arms, and embraced her old friend with a genuine hug, happy to feel his warmth again. Whether he reciprocated or not, she pulled away and nodded, just happy to see and be seen. ”Dasher Inoba, it’s been too long. You look well.”