Re: The Paladin and the Virus: The Ironwoman Trial (Trinette Vailant vs Spectre)
Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 12:04 am
The Virus on the spot was still fixing her legs and posture. A part of her wanted to lean and lurch, but she forced herself upright, perhaps leaning back a tad. Her arms were folded up in a sloppy boxer’s way but she looked to be winding up for a stiff strike of sorts.
Was she smaller? Yes. Trinette? SLOW. Blubbery. Yes, yes.
She’ll get them before they can concentrate. Plus gift them some extra juice with her elbow pulling far back. Now to blast a whole CLEAN through them like its round-shot from an 8-pounder gun.
Trinette walked right into it—the fool—the Virus formed a shakinf grin over a bead of new sweat and said, “F-FFirst’sssss blood's mine, yes-yes!” as the knuckles buried into the white middle stripe of Trinette’s leotard.
And it hurt. She just punched a wall. No—a metal plate! So unmoved was the surface that she garbled a whine when her knuckles flared with such ache that it crawled up her whole arm and seared till the eyes watered, cheeks flushed and lower lip shrivelled up. “Y-You cheat…”
Then it cracked her. A spray of sweat flew off. Those eyes went big the very second after. Spectre’s face turned sideways and the head knocked against her shoulder. The pain was a solid seven, but again made Trinette slip from a singular focus. Her legs went into a scampering autopilot to keep her feet under her, going around in a circle. Two tiny steps to the side, then back, hands flopping up and down like she tried to raise them. She grabbed Trinette by one of her arms before it cracked her in the ribs “Gh-HNNGH! H-Hhaaa.”
Her grip slipped, then she tended to her ribs with a tucked elbow, a hard wince and a gasp for air.
Right before being bludgeoned again in the face. “Pugh!” Spectre’s head snapped to the right, meeting again a fist that battered her right back bobble-head style. “Mmf!!” And it was that put the dark spots in her eye. Her nose bled onto her upper-lip as her cheeks now had a lasting sore on them. “It’s!--...” Her maw was hanging down just to grasp. Her hands were up, but open-palmed defences designed to catch the fists knocking into her face, sending it ping-pong style left to right. “N-Nothing!”
When Trinette left her face alone, her torso was utter jelly. Bending back, sticking out the gut, then trying to lean forward to correct but her head acted like a spinning bowling ball and just swayed in all directions. Her stare was drooping with harder and harder squints.
And before she knew it.
“UUUUUuuuuuughhhhhhhhh…” The uppercut to her belly button formally ended her immediate memory. Her features all gaped at once, shocked; spittle-throwing and releasing a dying breath. Her body had folded over the limb almost completely. Then gravity won. Knees banged first, then her face smacked into Trinette’s boot, drooling on it aimlessly while she dreamt this exchange having been her one-sided smashing.
Was she smaller? Yes. Trinette? SLOW. Blubbery. Yes, yes.
She’ll get them before they can concentrate. Plus gift them some extra juice with her elbow pulling far back. Now to blast a whole CLEAN through them like its round-shot from an 8-pounder gun.
Trinette walked right into it—the fool—the Virus formed a shakinf grin over a bead of new sweat and said, “F-FFirst’sssss blood's mine, yes-yes!” as the knuckles buried into the white middle stripe of Trinette’s leotard.
And it hurt. She just punched a wall. No—a metal plate! So unmoved was the surface that she garbled a whine when her knuckles flared with such ache that it crawled up her whole arm and seared till the eyes watered, cheeks flushed and lower lip shrivelled up. “Y-You cheat…”
Then it cracked her. A spray of sweat flew off. Those eyes went big the very second after. Spectre’s face turned sideways and the head knocked against her shoulder. The pain was a solid seven, but again made Trinette slip from a singular focus. Her legs went into a scampering autopilot to keep her feet under her, going around in a circle. Two tiny steps to the side, then back, hands flopping up and down like she tried to raise them. She grabbed Trinette by one of her arms before it cracked her in the ribs “Gh-HNNGH! H-Hhaaa.”
Her grip slipped, then she tended to her ribs with a tucked elbow, a hard wince and a gasp for air.
Right before being bludgeoned again in the face. “Pugh!” Spectre’s head snapped to the right, meeting again a fist that battered her right back bobble-head style. “Mmf!!” And it was that put the dark spots in her eye. Her nose bled onto her upper-lip as her cheeks now had a lasting sore on them. “It’s!--...” Her maw was hanging down just to grasp. Her hands were up, but open-palmed defences designed to catch the fists knocking into her face, sending it ping-pong style left to right. “N-Nothing!”
When Trinette left her face alone, her torso was utter jelly. Bending back, sticking out the gut, then trying to lean forward to correct but her head acted like a spinning bowling ball and just swayed in all directions. Her stare was drooping with harder and harder squints.
And before she knew it.
“UUUUUuuuuuughhhhhhhhh…” The uppercut to her belly button formally ended her immediate memory. Her features all gaped at once, shocked; spittle-throwing and releasing a dying breath. Her body had folded over the limb almost completely. Then gravity won. Knees banged first, then her face smacked into Trinette’s boot, drooling on it aimlessly while she dreamt this exchange having been her one-sided smashing.
