Re: Bottomless Rage: Wyvern vs. Eris Greyrat
Posted: Tue Oct 17, 2023 5:05 pm
Wyvern feels empty. The cold void that has consumed her mind leaves no trace of any emotion that could warn her. Neither the deranged joy that had come from believing she had found a kindred spirit nor the pyroclastic rage accompanying the realization that she had been wrong exist within her at this moment. Conscious thought itself is barely present. There's no crowd. No ring. For the Irishwoman, all of reality is condensed into the sparse space between her and her opponent. There is only one thing: the fight. Her fist rains down blow after blow, crushing Eris's head against the canvas and carving furrows into her cheeks and brow with its barbed shroud. As she pulls back her hand for a final, merciless hammerblow, the brief pause causes her to notice movement from the corner of her view.
*Slap*
A weak hand hits the canvas.
*Slap*
Once. Twice. Her opponent is giving up. Despite Wyvern's viciousness in the ring, her violence is bound within the rules. Normally, that alone would be enough to make her stop. Running on automatic, however, causes Wyvern to think only in binaries. There is no prediction of the future, no attempt to read intent. The bell has not rung. The match has not ended until Eris's hand strikes thrice, and after the last moments of hell she's struggling to land the third. The hammer falls like a meteor.
*Slap*
The binary flips. The bell rings. Wyvern's fist halts a centimeter from Eris's face, one sharp spike pressing into the Mad Dog's nose just far enough to draw a trickle of blood. Placing her free hand to the side of her opponent's head, Wyvern pushes herself up and off of Eris before rising to her feet. The pain of her injuries begins to flood back as her mind returns to its normal state, but none of this shows in her face and body language. Pain was a part of her. She can feel the referee approaching from the right to raise her hand before abruptly switching sides to avoid touching the bloody barbed wire. Even as the referee lifts her arm and declares her victory, the Irishwoman's attention is locked onto the Mad Dog, an unreadable expression on her face. When she's finally released, she turns to go, beginning to absentmindedly unwrap the metal around her fist.
*Slap*
A weak hand hits the canvas.
*Slap*
Once. Twice. Her opponent is giving up. Despite Wyvern's viciousness in the ring, her violence is bound within the rules. Normally, that alone would be enough to make her stop. Running on automatic, however, causes Wyvern to think only in binaries. There is no prediction of the future, no attempt to read intent. The bell has not rung. The match has not ended until Eris's hand strikes thrice, and after the last moments of hell she's struggling to land the third. The hammer falls like a meteor.
*Slap*
The binary flips. The bell rings. Wyvern's fist halts a centimeter from Eris's face, one sharp spike pressing into the Mad Dog's nose just far enough to draw a trickle of blood. Placing her free hand to the side of her opponent's head, Wyvern pushes herself up and off of Eris before rising to her feet. The pain of her injuries begins to flood back as her mind returns to its normal state, but none of this shows in her face and body language. Pain was a part of her. She can feel the referee approaching from the right to raise her hand before abruptly switching sides to avoid touching the bloody barbed wire. Even as the referee lifts her arm and declares her victory, the Irishwoman's attention is locked onto the Mad Dog, an unreadable expression on her face. When she's finally released, she turns to go, beginning to absentmindedly unwrap the metal around her fist.