First Contact... Nova Steele vs Spectre ( Standard )

[Monsy]

TONIGHT, SOMEONE WILL DROOL.

And tis’ was a sacrifice the crowd was willing to make.

Now that the static noise of all who came before them was passed—sections of the crowd, the most prepared, switched their signs to reflect support of the two HUGE forces of nature that put their butts into seats. Drink hats of blue, white and red were worn, now with fresh refills. Your video taker just put his back to the stage and spilled his loaded commentary and posted it to social medias. A guy stupidly wore a domino mask as either an edgy ploy. Almost none of their seat section believed in any tolerance for her symbols. A drop of her name in conversation felt more curse than moniker sometimes. It earned this guy a punch. His nose was re-adjusted by the buddy to his right, and his cheek’s floorplan was remodelled by someone's jutted elbow. The guy's stomach then became a point of interest for an entire flock. Before long he was conversing with concrete, casting spells with words trapped in spit bubbles.

Spectre laughed from up-top in her steel canopy high-up. The ring attendant announced the following:

NOVA STEELE, THE COSMIC DEFENDER, FACES OFF AGAINST THE TERROR OF THE WORLD, THE MALEVOLENT VIRUS HERSELF, SPECTRE! COMING UP N—

“Now.” Her voice thoomed, summoning bells and electronic

. All of a sudden, she was everywhere. The digital banners flowing between the bowls advertising the LAW Universe switched to her purple skull emblem, side by side, a never-ending loop. Phones almost seemed to slow as monitors turned corrupted and microphones failed to work. She became the centrepiece, the Goddess of Tonight. And lowering in from above upon a winch and cable, both plumes of purple smoke came from ringside and purple flame spires rose from machines attached to ring-posts.

dropped into her own building cloud of purple smoke and the crowd stirred in ambient disapproval. Over seconds it parted with the machines no longer blowing, but the lights remained dark. When enough of the mist cleared, a brighter spotlight revealed her figure—sat upon the ring attendant’s back who was twisted into a paradise hold. Her voice was cast throughout the stadium’s audio. “Show’s now mine.” A pause for effect, then a survey to the crowd. In her puruse, she saw a man being held up in a headlock, all sniffled, purple and lazy eyed, wearing her mask. They pointed and shouted expletives to get attention—appearing more like squawking ducks to her holding another duck.

“When I was a young blight, I saw the posters and posts of the great Nova Steele. An elite, proud warrior. This SUPER heroine, with her fists that hit like oat meal on a meteor, slams softer than spritzes of water into the sun and a speed that makes Venus look impressive. So mighty and clever was she that the world basked, one star destroyer at a time, putting kitties into the ground for ten counts.” Putting a hand down on the attendant’s hip, she leaned back and stacked a leg over the other.

“So from the edges of the cosmos…” She licked her lips. “I hereby summon THEE Nova Steele—to come and get a squashing for the eons.”