Post by TheNewBreed on Dec 23, 2023 2:24:35 GMT -5
Darina Weiman's tight blonde plats bobbed at the base of her neck as she ducks a clothesline and launches herself into the ropes. She springs off, takes one step, then another as her leg coils beneath her, the fluid motion building the energy to leap from the mat, sailing forward, unfurling herself as she stretches her body out and glides across the ring. Swiftly, her elbow comes up in front of her becoming the spear point of her vicious assault and drives into the forehead of the Beast coming back across the ring. Darina is slung to the side from the impact, and John slams into the mat back first, sliding to a halt nearby.
John shakes his head side to side trying to shake the cobwebs, and brings his hand to his forehead. Nearby, Darina rolls and hops to her feet, leaps across the gap between them landing on John's shoulder. With the ease of a practiced assassin, Darina locks her legs around his shoulder, and snatches his wrist in both of her hands, wrenching back against the delt and spreading his thick fingers with her own.
With a determined grunt, Darina rolls her hips, shifting John further onto his stomach and splits his fingers apart even wider as she rears back on the shoulder even harder. Her face twists in a strenuous grimace as she pulls on his shoulder with all her might as John screams in agony.
“If you can't take the pain, John, then stop asking me to spar with you!” Darina admonishes him as John uses his other hand to press himself up on the mat, and get his knee under him, before forcing her to roll with him and put her on her back instead and releasing some of the pressure on the shoulder, but not the fingers.
“That's exactly why I...” John starts to retort through gritted teeth before Darina pulls the fingers even further apart making him wince beneath the mask and suck in a deep breath as the pain washed over him.
“Less bullshitting and more trying to win, old man.” Darina scolds him with a sly smile before turning her hips into the roll and sending John sprawling across her and out onto the mat on his back, still locked up in the arm bar and the pressure returned to the shoulder as she pries his fingers apart as far as she can.
John screamed out again as he slaps her thigh, and rocks first backwards and then forward, rolling over her once more and getting to his knees. As fast as he can, he gets to his feet, slings his free arm over the wrist lock, grabbing ahold of it himself, and picks Darina up off of the mat on his arm and slams her back on to the canvas with a thunderous THUD.
Always tenacious, Darina holds on after the slam, and John picks her up once more, lifting her up over his shoulders, and driving her into the mat for the second time with a sit out power-bomb that shakes the ring. This time, the impact knocks Darina free and she splays out across the canvas before grasping at her back in pain.
John slings her leg off of him and rolls out of the way getting to his feet and rubbing his shoulder, shaking his arm out as he stalks around her. As he draws close, Darina shoots out a fast foot, catching John in the shin and making him jump back in surprise. He lifts his leg, shakes it out and approaches her again as she scrambles backwards, her feet ready to strike. John lunges forward, batting away her first foot, but not the second one that shoots straight up the center and catches him in the chin with the heel, sending him staggering backwards.
Just the moment she needed, Darina kips up, takes a step towards John, sets her foot on his thigh, and launches upwards with a step up insiguri that sends John sideways across the ring and into the ropes. Staggered, John takes a step and is dropped flat on his back with a perfect dropkick that lands square on his masked chin.
Wasting no time, Darina is up again, off the far side ropes, leaps over the prone Cable, and springboards off the middle rope with an elegant moonsault, landing square across John's chest as he grunts having the air driven out of him.
Out of desperation, John presses Darina off of him and tosses her several feet across the ring, clutching at his midsection as he rolls to his feet. Using the ropes to get vertical, John is met with a dropkick to the knee that takes him back to the mat face first. John clutches at his knee and rolls to his back as Darina gets back to her feet, sizing him up again as she rushes the corner. Running up the turnbuckles Darina flips off of the top rope with another moonsault, but Cable brings his knees up in the last moment, and Darina splashes across his shins belly first and flops to the side, grasping her ribs.
John sits up, and leans against the ropes, panting, as Darina clutches her ribs, writhing in the ring nearby.
“You always go so hard when we spar... and you usually end up hurting yourself. When are you going to learn to take it easy?” John says, sliding the mask off of his scarred and twisted features. Sweat runs down his cheeks and across the ropes of scars stretching across his face.
“You know... damned well... you're one of the few... oof. Fuck that hurt.” Darina struggles to exclaim as she winces and holds her midsection.
“Did you break it?” John asks nonchalantly, as if that was a regular occurrence.
“I don't think I did this time...” Darina wheezes, prodding at her ribs with two fingers.
“Good. Seriously though... you need to take it easy.” John says softly, reaching up and grabbing the top rope, pulling himself to his feet and shaking his leg out.
“Is that what you want? Sparring partners that take it easy in here? Is John Blade gonna go easy on you in the ring on SMASH?” Darina scolds him as she rolls to her knees and looks up at him across he ring.
“No... I didn't think so.” she says as John gives her an exasperated look.
“None of the guys you've fought this year have gone easy on you in the ring, and training against people who will is gonna make sure you end your career a lot sooner than you wanted to... and that isn't gonna end any time soon! Hell, after Blade you got Enigma for the SMASH Title coming up, and if that isn't gonna be rough enough, if you think it's gonna get any easier after you win the Belt you're fucking kidding yourself, John.” Darina continues to admonish the Beast as John grabs a towel from the apron and wipes his face with it.
“You think I don't know that? You've been around for a long time now, Darina... and you know damned well that I'm aware of the road that lies ahead of me... the journey I must undergo... the redemption at hand... and you're right. I know why you...” John says, staring at the towel in his hands, the weight of the last few months and the next few to come floating through his mind before Darina cuts him off.
“There isn't any of your fresh faced kids in any of the schools you got scattered across the globe that will go as hard as I will. Hell... there aren't very many of the guys we hired his year that can even score a take down on me in the rings, and I like to keep it that way. One mistake in the field and you and your entire team are dead, and there isn't an apology to the fans big enough that can fix that kind of failure... and I'm not just training with you for the WGWF...” Darina says, her tone dwindling at the end, implications of far larger threats hanging on her words.
“I know. R2 is still tracking the energy signatures it picked up the last time the other John showed up, and trying to get some more info so we can make a better plan for that than just 'Let's wait until he shows back up'... but until we get some luck on that, we just have to wait.” John says, his voice thick with frustration.
“And until then, we need to make sure every one of us are ready for the war that he might bring. The Shane's were well armed and had infinite resources at their disposal. They're not the kind of intergalactic bad guys I prefer to be unprepared for, if you know what I mean.” Darina chuckles at the situation wryly.
“Sadly, I do...” John remembers the bloody fight that ended the Shane's control of the multiverse that nearly ended everything.
“But... in the meantime... if you end up breaking yourself, who's gonna make sure the crew's ready to fight when they have to?” John asks sarcastically.
“Owen's got this... I have faith in him.” Darina chuckles as the scene fades to black.
* * * * *
Mr. Glade... the Surgeon... the man who wields a mic like a scalpel... the Man we can't B...
I would say welcome to the big stage, but I know this isn't your first time to the spotlight. Hell... everyone who watches wrestling knows about you, dreams about you, and wishes they could B you... but no one can B you, can they Shawn?
No...
No one can... except you, Shawn... and we all know it.
Good thing I don't try to be anything but what I am... a Beast... a savage warrior seeking out the best of the best to test my mettle in the middle of that ring... and this weeks unlucky contestant on “Who's Gonna Tell Em” is none other than you Shawn, and boy do I have a secret for you.
Listen close... cause this is a doozy, OK, Shawn?
Monday Night... on SMASH... the winners of the night are going to be the fans, my man.
That's right, Shawn... they get to witness the epic clash that's about to happen in Charlotte between the two of us, and when the dust settles, the better man will stand victorious... and the Legend of Shawn Glade will have added yet another chapter to it's illustrious tale full of struggle, strife, and another string of incoherent babble about nothing in particular.
The Darkest Hour is upon you, Shawn... so sleep well... and beware the Waking Nightmare of the Beast.
John shakes his head side to side trying to shake the cobwebs, and brings his hand to his forehead. Nearby, Darina rolls and hops to her feet, leaps across the gap between them landing on John's shoulder. With the ease of a practiced assassin, Darina locks her legs around his shoulder, and snatches his wrist in both of her hands, wrenching back against the delt and spreading his thick fingers with her own.
With a determined grunt, Darina rolls her hips, shifting John further onto his stomach and splits his fingers apart even wider as she rears back on the shoulder even harder. Her face twists in a strenuous grimace as she pulls on his shoulder with all her might as John screams in agony.
“If you can't take the pain, John, then stop asking me to spar with you!” Darina admonishes him as John uses his other hand to press himself up on the mat, and get his knee under him, before forcing her to roll with him and put her on her back instead and releasing some of the pressure on the shoulder, but not the fingers.
“That's exactly why I...” John starts to retort through gritted teeth before Darina pulls the fingers even further apart making him wince beneath the mask and suck in a deep breath as the pain washed over him.
“Less bullshitting and more trying to win, old man.” Darina scolds him with a sly smile before turning her hips into the roll and sending John sprawling across her and out onto the mat on his back, still locked up in the arm bar and the pressure returned to the shoulder as she pries his fingers apart as far as she can.
John screamed out again as he slaps her thigh, and rocks first backwards and then forward, rolling over her once more and getting to his knees. As fast as he can, he gets to his feet, slings his free arm over the wrist lock, grabbing ahold of it himself, and picks Darina up off of the mat on his arm and slams her back on to the canvas with a thunderous THUD.
Always tenacious, Darina holds on after the slam, and John picks her up once more, lifting her up over his shoulders, and driving her into the mat for the second time with a sit out power-bomb that shakes the ring. This time, the impact knocks Darina free and she splays out across the canvas before grasping at her back in pain.
John slings her leg off of him and rolls out of the way getting to his feet and rubbing his shoulder, shaking his arm out as he stalks around her. As he draws close, Darina shoots out a fast foot, catching John in the shin and making him jump back in surprise. He lifts his leg, shakes it out and approaches her again as she scrambles backwards, her feet ready to strike. John lunges forward, batting away her first foot, but not the second one that shoots straight up the center and catches him in the chin with the heel, sending him staggering backwards.
Just the moment she needed, Darina kips up, takes a step towards John, sets her foot on his thigh, and launches upwards with a step up insiguri that sends John sideways across the ring and into the ropes. Staggered, John takes a step and is dropped flat on his back with a perfect dropkick that lands square on his masked chin.
Wasting no time, Darina is up again, off the far side ropes, leaps over the prone Cable, and springboards off the middle rope with an elegant moonsault, landing square across John's chest as he grunts having the air driven out of him.
Out of desperation, John presses Darina off of him and tosses her several feet across the ring, clutching at his midsection as he rolls to his feet. Using the ropes to get vertical, John is met with a dropkick to the knee that takes him back to the mat face first. John clutches at his knee and rolls to his back as Darina gets back to her feet, sizing him up again as she rushes the corner. Running up the turnbuckles Darina flips off of the top rope with another moonsault, but Cable brings his knees up in the last moment, and Darina splashes across his shins belly first and flops to the side, grasping her ribs.
John sits up, and leans against the ropes, panting, as Darina clutches her ribs, writhing in the ring nearby.
“You always go so hard when we spar... and you usually end up hurting yourself. When are you going to learn to take it easy?” John says, sliding the mask off of his scarred and twisted features. Sweat runs down his cheeks and across the ropes of scars stretching across his face.
“You know... damned well... you're one of the few... oof. Fuck that hurt.” Darina struggles to exclaim as she winces and holds her midsection.
“Did you break it?” John asks nonchalantly, as if that was a regular occurrence.
“I don't think I did this time...” Darina wheezes, prodding at her ribs with two fingers.
“Good. Seriously though... you need to take it easy.” John says softly, reaching up and grabbing the top rope, pulling himself to his feet and shaking his leg out.
“Is that what you want? Sparring partners that take it easy in here? Is John Blade gonna go easy on you in the ring on SMASH?” Darina scolds him as she rolls to her knees and looks up at him across he ring.
“No... I didn't think so.” she says as John gives her an exasperated look.
“None of the guys you've fought this year have gone easy on you in the ring, and training against people who will is gonna make sure you end your career a lot sooner than you wanted to... and that isn't gonna end any time soon! Hell, after Blade you got Enigma for the SMASH Title coming up, and if that isn't gonna be rough enough, if you think it's gonna get any easier after you win the Belt you're fucking kidding yourself, John.” Darina continues to admonish the Beast as John grabs a towel from the apron and wipes his face with it.
“You think I don't know that? You've been around for a long time now, Darina... and you know damned well that I'm aware of the road that lies ahead of me... the journey I must undergo... the redemption at hand... and you're right. I know why you...” John says, staring at the towel in his hands, the weight of the last few months and the next few to come floating through his mind before Darina cuts him off.
“There isn't any of your fresh faced kids in any of the schools you got scattered across the globe that will go as hard as I will. Hell... there aren't very many of the guys we hired his year that can even score a take down on me in the rings, and I like to keep it that way. One mistake in the field and you and your entire team are dead, and there isn't an apology to the fans big enough that can fix that kind of failure... and I'm not just training with you for the WGWF...” Darina says, her tone dwindling at the end, implications of far larger threats hanging on her words.
“I know. R2 is still tracking the energy signatures it picked up the last time the other John showed up, and trying to get some more info so we can make a better plan for that than just 'Let's wait until he shows back up'... but until we get some luck on that, we just have to wait.” John says, his voice thick with frustration.
“And until then, we need to make sure every one of us are ready for the war that he might bring. The Shane's were well armed and had infinite resources at their disposal. They're not the kind of intergalactic bad guys I prefer to be unprepared for, if you know what I mean.” Darina chuckles at the situation wryly.
“Sadly, I do...” John remembers the bloody fight that ended the Shane's control of the multiverse that nearly ended everything.
“But... in the meantime... if you end up breaking yourself, who's gonna make sure the crew's ready to fight when they have to?” John asks sarcastically.
“Owen's got this... I have faith in him.” Darina chuckles as the scene fades to black.
* * * * *
Mr. Glade... the Surgeon... the man who wields a mic like a scalpel... the Man we can't B...
I would say welcome to the big stage, but I know this isn't your first time to the spotlight. Hell... everyone who watches wrestling knows about you, dreams about you, and wishes they could B you... but no one can B you, can they Shawn?
No...
No one can... except you, Shawn... and we all know it.
Good thing I don't try to be anything but what I am... a Beast... a savage warrior seeking out the best of the best to test my mettle in the middle of that ring... and this weeks unlucky contestant on “Who's Gonna Tell Em” is none other than you Shawn, and boy do I have a secret for you.
Listen close... cause this is a doozy, OK, Shawn?
Monday Night... on SMASH... the winners of the night are going to be the fans, my man.
That's right, Shawn... they get to witness the epic clash that's about to happen in Charlotte between the two of us, and when the dust settles, the better man will stand victorious... and the Legend of Shawn Glade will have added yet another chapter to it's illustrious tale full of struggle, strife, and another string of incoherent babble about nothing in particular.
The Darkest Hour is upon you, Shawn... so sleep well... and beware the Waking Nightmare of the Beast.