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

[ScoutLils]

Vs.

Match Rules

The match is set to one fall. Competitors can obtain victory via pinfall, submission, or knockout.

Eshe stretched ib the locker room, having just pulled up her leotard and slid her arms through the sleeves, her body was slowly loosening tension as she bent her body to the right. Since joining LAW, shes gained some traction here and there, it felt exhilarating but sometimes scary to meet the competition though, all in all, she was having fun. Her father continued to show his support and even managed to snag a deal with a plush company not too long ago to sell plushies of her. It made her chuckle as she leans to the left, the muscles in her hips and abdomen tightening on the opposite side as her body shifts with the motion.

She was gaining in popularity, maybe it was time to start branching out more and shoot for those stars. Originally she did this for the thrills, the sheer intensity and enjoyment of it, but now that this was actually her career, she felt she could do more with it, with herself. For some odd reason, she felt her match tonight would solidify that path for her tonight, wether it was something to trek down, or to take the fork in the road; undecided.

A sudden knock on the door caught her attention as she stopped mid stretch to peak over her shoulder. ”Miss Abdallah, you’re up.” That was her cue, better late than never! She turned on her heel and heading to the door, opening it up to the cordinator with a smile. ”Yup, coming! Thanks for coming to get me.” She’d wave as she passed heading down the hall to her next match. In truth, Eshe would be lying if she said she wasn’t a bit nervous. The Egyptian had heard some rumors about her opponent tonight: Spectre, and quite frankly none of them good. Still, it was no reason to judge a book by its cover, her mother would’ve scolded her for that.

Attire

Theme

As her theme suddenly takes over the arena, Eshe steps out, her hips immediately striking the air to the beat, as her infectious energy begins to take over the crowd. Shes laughing, smiling, geninuely having a good time as she steps in time with the beat, the ring closing in fast.

Reaching those steel steps, for once she decides to go a different route. Her hands press against the apron as she pushes upward practically jumping up as her boots catch her foothold. Grabbing onto the top rope, she leans back with it, springing forward as she tucks her legs in and close to her chest as the Egyptian vaults over the ropes into the ring. She turns back, actually surprised she managed to do it on her first try but Eshe plays it off with a slight turn and wave to the crowd.

Slowly but surely, the violet heads towards her side of the ring, still waving and blowing kisses to her fans as she hypes them up. Turning to the entrance, she squats, her hands on her knees as she eyes it with a competitive gaze. Her thighs and calves tense as she stretches ib her position, swaying to the right to really stretch her left side before leaving to the left to do the same to the right. She’s pumped and ready to begin, her mind set on the bout at hand.

[Monsy]

VIRAL OVERRIDE

Parts of the previous post are written out of effect. In this case, consider paragraph four as the cut-off.

Amidst the theme of Eshe Abdallah, Spectre housed herself up high as per-usual. But not even the distance of the catwalk over the Titantron could hide the glitter radiated off the Violet Beauty of Egypt. To what Spectre knew, she was a simple story. Grew up in Egypt, obviously. Her rise was tame, appearing out of nowhere to a mixed record adventure within the league of AFW. Her sportsmanship was nothing more than vile, disgusting and smelly. So much CHEER that it’ll rot your frontal cortex. So many smiles that she’d likely age to forty in the next five years.

So damn punchable was her face that it just makes her want to squeeze, gnaw and bite this girl until she cries for her ancestors. Then she’d stretch one of Eshe''s strong legs over, bend and bend until she kicked herself drunk… Then to be woken back up, head between the virus’s legs, squeezed and suffocated where she could curl over and bite her cheek. Sooner or later, she’d be tapping endlessly on the canvas under her. Maybe Spectre’s thin arm, or her supple leg. She could beg and beg and beg till the crowd finally stopped smiling at her. Her father could be down there. And then she’d show him the bruising on her torn leotard, ripped at the belly and filled to the brim with purple swelling.

“Mmm~” And the thoughts of it gave her a scent. Something metallic. Something pleasant and warm in her belly. Her smile gradually grew until it was prominent, sharp and expressive. A moan would hit the back of her throat, then her toes curled tight.

“Free meat.” Said the Virus under her breath. A little nothing to play with and mark off the week. If the damsel performs well, then she’ll be the next victim of her stream. But now was the time to be quick before she got too far from the stage. So, looking at her laptop perched on the railing and waiting to be used, she tapped into an admin account that controlled the AV of the stadium.

Eshe’s theme would warp. Her skull overlaid on the Titantron, glitching with the entire screen as it experienced a virus. The bottom margin flickered in and out of black. The display tilted, inverted, then coloured lines started sliding across the screen like an old TV. Smoke sputtered in front of Eshe before she hit the ramp. Then bursts of pyro JETTED high in the cloud, creating a plume of orange and red as the audio crackled, popped and screeched stadium-wide.

Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a grappling hook prototype in the form of a bracer made of metal and contained a mild thickness and weight from the internal mechanisms. It slid on easy, then she just needed to twist a metal ring around the frame to tighten and then she aimed her fist towards a high-beam in the stadium structure. A cord flew from her bracer. Four prongs fanned from it, then extended fins as it spun and then hit the high beam, spinning around and catching. After a tug, Spectre looked at her target, hopped up onto the railing of the catwalk, then stepped off and swung like tarzan on a vine.

With the press of another button on her bracer, the prongs folded back inside the cable, then sucked back in towards the device. The line was free of the beam and Spectre began a curving descent towards the stage, coming into view with an audible GASP from the crowds. For where she was about to crash on-top of was extremely clear: Eshe Abdallah herself.

[ScoutLils]

Just as the violet was getting ready to head down the ramp, the arena shifted. Eshe would spin in surprise as her theme began to warp, the bass of the beat turned into a gargling mesh while a skull overtook the titantron. Her brow raised as she begin to feel a slight panic take over. Was this a prank? Was she being ambushed? Questions overtook her mind as she spun back around, her gaze darting about as she takes a hesitant step forward, unsure if she should turn back now or still those nerves of steel and continue on.

Just as the violet took a single step forward, the pyro jets bloomed with ignition, making Eshe jump back in surprise. She looked right, quickly shifting left to still find no one in visible sight. With another hesitant step back, she was right where Spectre wanted her.

The gasp of the crowd alarmed Bastet, her gaze shifting to find the cause for alarm. Only after squinting for a mere moment did she notice someone was pointing-up? With her body turning to meet the exact point she came face to face with the Virus herself: Spectre. Eshe didn’t have even a second to protect herself as their whole weight came down on top of them. The sheer force of the impact taking her off her feet as she slides back against the stage.

The violet immediately began ti groan as she clutched her side. It took the worst of it but she was left so laid out already at a huge disadvantage. She grimaced in pain, as the gadgets claw retracted into her bracer. That cold, sneering look in their face sent a chill down her spine. M-maybe she was overthinking things, maybe it was an accident, yeah that had to be it. She presses her palm against the ground, slowly pushing herself up, she’s not exactly quick about it.

[Monsy]

The first order of business was NOT eating shit alongside her new rival. Easy enough; her feet found the floor, then it took a few steps forward to ride it out and keep up with her sliding foe. That part was the hardest part of her plan to her estimates—the easiest? Kicking Eshe’s ass. This girl’s aptitude was wrapped up in so much pleasantry it made her nauseous and cringe. She gave the impression of a helpless granny. One good kick to the foundation and all tumbled. And she’d enjoy it. What she saw stunk up her nose. The way she danced with them? Revolting. Her grapple-hook detracted into a rope and fell, slapping the stage then slithering back to its case with a gradual wind. Folding her ring finger down to her wrist, she tapped a safety function while her opposite side gestured a finger-flexed hand at Eshe’s downed state for the crowd to mock. Instead they booed.

“Get off her!”
“Dust yourself off Eshe! You can do it!”
“Esssheeeeeeeee!”

They shouted curses to Spectre and rallied to Eshe’s corner. A miasma of impulse coursed through the throng nearest to them. She acknowledged them with a sneer, bent over and grabbed a large portion of Eshe’s hair—the end of it—in a big scoop to hold and clutch. “Nice hair.” Her attitude carried over to her tone, uttering nice like it meant anything but nice. She rolled the hair around her wrist a few times until it formed a leash. “Mind if I keep it?” An upward yank torqued Eshe’s head while a foot pressed between Eshe’s shoulderblades, attempting to flatten on the stage. Whether she struggled to wrangle Eshe or succeeded with no issue, she spoke again as if no danger existed and this was an examination, making her initial observation. “This is thee Eshe Abdallah: law’s friendliest disappointment of an athlete ever seen. I hear you make friends wherever you go. Say, what about an enemy?”

[ScoutLils]

Eshe made a bid to gain her footing, pushing up in her hands, shifting her knees underneath her person to begin her slow but pained ascent. All the while, the crowd cheered her on, pushing her to get up and fight back. Speck seemed to not even take a mental blow from the boos of the audience. It seemed more like, the virus enjoyed the jeers?

The violet didn’t have much time to ponder the reasons why, the looming villain bent over. The compliment for her hair, felt backhanded as her silky strands wrapped around her hand once than twice. ”Mind if I keep it?”The egpytian’s brow raised as she pushed up in pain, the words confused her. What did she mean by that? Before Eshe knew it Speck had already pulled harshly upward drawing her up as she felt the fire-like tug on her scalp. Air passed through clenched teeth as her hands shot up, aiming to pick at the hands grip on her but she was immediately squashed as they shoved their boot into her gut.

”Gugh!” Eshe couldn’t even voice her protest before her gut was caved in. Her arms swiftly curl towards her stomach as she recoils in pain. This potential friendship was already starting off rocky but surely she could melt that heart of steel? Eshe was hopeful.

Hearing her called LAW’s friendliest disappointment hurt. She didn’t think her career so far had been bad, sure she had hiccups here and there but she always did her best even if she was scared. It was the question of making an enemy that completely took her aback. She’d never once thought of making an enemy out of anyone. Her mother, Osiris rest her soul, had always taught her to treat everyone with love that deserved it, and to be strong in the face of adversity. The stings from her scalp and the burning pain in her stomach made her realize that was Speck’s mission to make her hate, but the violet wouldn’t fall for this trap.

Her pained gaze found the cape at their back just close enough to snag while Speck reveled in her pain. Her ebony digits reach out for the fabric, desperate for some reprieve as her index and middle catch a snippet of the fabric to draw into her palm. Eshe makes a bid for relief, attempting to fully grab hold of their villainous cape before she gives it a good tug downward.

[Monsy]

This wassssss a good start!

Most excellent, really. The mighty Eshe was underneath her boot and the crowd bought into her barbarism with the proper product. Given the perfect and smooth introduction she just landed, she fully expected her invitation to be heeded. Truthfully, she daydreamed of the best answer that could be spilled. An enemy of Eshe? Now that was a prize! A little corrosive on that friendly armour till she blasts with fury from within. Then she’d smack that down too.

What then?
What then for her?

Twas’ the question that made her head race. If only there was a microphone. That would complete this. No taksies backsies. No-- “Excuse--” Spectre’s tugged cape pulled her chest and neck awkwardly to the side. Her one leg bent and she did a stumble, only to step over twice with her feet, catch herself, then tug on Eshe’s hair she kept clutched to pull her close. “--You.” If the pull got what she intended, Spectre’s foot would find Eshe's chin. Not in any aggressive way, but controlled and gentle to tip that gaze straight up. Now balanced on her one leg and Eshe’s hair like her leash.

“What are you, NUTS? I could’ve punted you into next week just now.” She spoke with clear mocking and one arm folded up in exaggerated shrug, eyes rolling towards the ceiling. And if nothing happened after, she’d put her foot down, crouch with both thighs together and look at her slightly more eye-level. Her second hand made an O with her middle finger under thumb. “I think you should thank me. Else--.” She tried to give Eshe’s cheek and nose a good flick each. “I gave your eye one of these.”

[ScoutLils]

Eshe wasn’t sure what to do or either how to handle this. Was this what an ambush was? Her violet strands of hair stung in their grasp as she attempts to break their hold. The Egyptian doesn’t try to necessarily hurt them so much as to make her fumble and release her locks so they could get the show on the road. She tugged, she tugged as much as she could from her half-prone position but it would amount to nothing more than an awkward stumble. Speck easily managed to find her balance again after a slight hop to keep herself from falling but in reality, Eshe accomplished nothing. Even as she had to look up at that sneering face, she didn’t lose her conposure. She was the fun loving Eshe after all~!

Their boot slipped under her chin, it was if they were playing with the hands of fate after just managing to find their balance. The villainous exclaimed her actions as “Nuts!” She grimaced as she’s lifted uoward, her ebony arms slipping under her prone body to keep herself from having her airway cut off from the top of their boot stationing under chin; perking her up slightly to keep herself level.

Spectre would then bend down to her level, her hair still in hand as they begin to flick her face. She couldn’t lie, it was somewhat getting to her, it reminded the Egyptian of her cousin who used to bully her but even from that, she wasn’t going to snap. ”H-hey! Stop..it!” she protested, palms pressed to the ramp as she shifts, sliding her knees underneath herself to gain some height, immediately attempting to throw her hands up to defends her face. Eshe wasn’t able to pull away to far with her hair as a leash but she wasn’t going to go feral for an escape but she wasn’t going to just sit there and take it either.

Her body drops forward, reaching out to grip those pale shoulders as her digits would dig in to push or perhaps the better word for it; crush, them under her full weight against the ramp, pulling herself up, shes scoot forward along their stomach in a bid to free her hair from their villainous grip.