Post by Seito Risa on Aug 20, 2013 21:31:05 GMT -5
Brutal. Physical. Risa felt her face hit the canvas from what felt like 20,000 feet. The lights went out for a moment. When she quickly came too, she wondered if her face was broken. She was pulled roughly back to realty by the sound of a voice. It was the voice of Cypress Morgan.
SR: "Come on, Risa. Get up. You have to fight. You have nothing to hold back now."
She shook off the cobwebs, building momentum, wondering in a moment of rest what the Consortium, having crawled out from under its rock, thought of how well she and Deimos were working together. The pleasure of facing a common enemy, she mused as she ran in, driving her knee into the side of Morgan's head. As she landed on the mat from that, she limped a little, her knee not happy about the collision. Cypress was a mountain of man, no doubt about it. A fact she was reminded of when she took a knee to the gut and was unceremoniously deposited back into the ring following the double clothesline to herself and Deimos. It took a few moments to force breath back into her lungs. She fought back to her feet, her entire body already hurting. She looked around,expecting to see the great rhino of a man charging at her with the intent to leave her squashed into the mat. Nothing. This struck her as odd. It seemed Deimos was having the same thoughts. Eventually, the two shrugged and got back to business.
The triple belly-to-back suplexes did little for Risa's aching body. Yet after the third, folded in half like a piece of pita bread in a Gyro, Risa thought quickly of ichiro rooting for her. Not even sure how she managed it, she rolled one shoulder up from the mat, just enough to shift the center of balance of the hold, causing the break. Deimos was back on her again, and she considered the result of the previous week. A fire lit deep in her gut and she found a fifteenth wind she never knew she had. The screaming pain of her body became a dull ache. She fought her way out of the side headlock, only to find herself back in it again. Cursing herself, she considered the situation. Deciding on a course of action, she again extricated herself. Deimos was frustrated, and she caught him unawares, using one of the moves she had held in reserve. Pulling Deimos' neck between her knees, she pulled his left arm through and cinched in the Phoenix Cry. She squeezed as tightly as she could. She could see the color in Deimos' face changing, the look in his eyes when he realized he was in real trouble. His eyes closed tightly with the effort to not give up and, apparently, with the effort to stretch his foot far enough to reach the ropes. That, she hoped, should even the odds...
Next thing she knew, she was hanging in the corner. The sight she had expected to be Cypress Morgan was Deimos, charging in like the 215 to Tokyo. With no other choice, Risa let her body do what it wanted, fall out of the way, ducking to the right and looking back as she dropped to her knees. Deimos was caught too late to slam on the breaks and slammed square shoulder first into the ring post. The momentum carried him through and to the floor with a thud. Risa eased to the corner next to her and again used her arms on the top ropes to hold herself up. Her lungs wanted to explode. She'd felt like this before, and lost to Eden Morgan time and again. Then her vision spotted something large and not moving being shoved into the ring. A quick glance....Is that Jet? In just a towel?...she looked back to the unmoving blob. With a shake of her head, she recognized Cypress Morgan. A man had walked out of a match with her once and not gotten his payback. The memory of Zane Scott waving her off, dismissing her like some rent-a-geisha rekindled that fire one last time. Staggering from the corner, she got a grip on the big biker and somehow navigated his bulk upright.
SR: "This one's for you, Ichi-kun."
She got her shoulder under his chin and dropped him with the most force she could muster from her exhausted body. Not quite sure what had happened before this, but also not sure this would be sufficient, she took a great risk, one that resulted in a dropkick to the face earlier. Up to the top she went. Cypress showed no sign of moving. Risa sized him up and took to the air. The force of the impact on the big man caused her to bounce, rolling nearly a foot away. Her gut and ribs felt like they had just been slammed into the side of Mount Fuji.
SR: "This could be it. Don't lose it now! Focus!"
Again in her mind she heard Ichiro. Using her arm, she swung her body around on top of the prone defending Champion, grabbed his leg and held on with the last drops of strength in her body. The first two counts went fast. The third seemed to take forever. Did he kick out? Did Deimos come in and break up the count, knocking her out? Did she pass out and miss the count? What in the....
She heard the hand hit the mat and a moment later the bell sounded. She tried to roll off of Morgan, but more oozed to her back and lay there, eyes up at the lights. If she dared to really believe it, she had just done it. She closed her eyes and relied on her ears. The sound of Rising Phoenix causing the adrenaline to somehow find a supply of energy somewhere between her big and second toes of her feet. She rolled to her knees. Relief and disbelief flooding over her like a wave. Brian offered her the belt, noting this time he was glad she was sitting up and conscious to receive it. She nodded to him and held the belt in her arms, her eyes fixed on the front plate, the world, neatly sliced into four quarters, each with a different color of gemstone used to set the continent(s) on that part of the plate apart. Her body hurt, she wanted to lay down right there and go to sleep, but she forced her arms to pull the belt in and hug it tight to her chest. Deimos slammed his fists into the ring apron in frustration, eying her. He didn't move to attack, he nodded in what seemed to her to be respect and walked toward the back, obviously disappointed. She knew how he felt. The trainers arrived to look at Cypress. Risa dropped to her side and rolled gingerly from the ring, easing from the apron to her feet on the arena floor. One of the ringside trainers checked on her. She assured him she simply needed a week in a hot tub and a case of Advil, gave him a smile and started on her way. She paused at the bottom of the ramp, spotting a pair of girls about her own age, dressed in her old ring outfits. She staggered over, draped the belt over her shoulder and posed with them while one of the sound guys took a picture with the girls cell phones. That taken care of, Risa started up the ramp, forcing one foot in front of the other. As she passed through the curtain she was greeted by a few congratulatory comments from staff members and even a wrestler or two. Perhaps this match had finally earned her a little respect. She got to her locker room, eased down onto the bench and lowered the title belt to the bench in front of her, gazing at it again. It was going to weigh a ton in the morning, but for right now, it was light as a feather. It was then she noticed a piece of paper tucked into her locker door. She pulled it out, considering how she was going to yell at Ichiro for sneaking out of the hospital a few days early. A thought process interrupted by the actual message.
You were right. They did make a mistake. And you were there to relieve a Morgan of their title belt. Congratulations. Don't expect it to be so easy when you come after me. - E. M.
She quirked an eyebrow at the note, but gave a tired smile.
SR: "Don't worry. Everything will happen as it should. Tonight I finally proved that to myself. Patience, faith and belief in those around me. Trust in those closest to me. And in myself."
She folded the note and stopped. She traced her fingertips along the crease.
SR: "I just wish I could give you the help you were seeking. But until I know what's going on, all I can do is pray."
She levered herself up from the bench and opened the locker, placing the note in her purse. She grabbed a fresh set of undergarments, her washing supplies and a towel and closed the door to her locker. She paused, opened the door and set the belt inside, propped up on her gear bag. She retrieved her cell from her purse and, setting her bathing items down on the bench, got the angle just right. There was just the right light reflecting from the colors of the gemstones set in the face plate. She took a picture and texted it to Ichiro, her Grandfather and her Mother. Along with a short message. "Tonight I found out what it means to give more than you believe you can give. And this was the reward. Will talk tomorrow." She smiled at the picture, sent the messages. She returned her phone to her purse and closed the door to the locker, resting her palm on it.
SR: "So the next path in my journey begins. I wonder where it will take me. My guess would be, perhaps, to Outlast?"
With a grunt, she got her body moving.
SR: "Time to clean the Risa..."
She said to the old tune of the old Dunkin' Donuts man. She giggled softly as she passed around the tiled corner into the shower.....
(more to come!)
SR: "Come on, Risa. Get up. You have to fight. You have nothing to hold back now."
She shook off the cobwebs, building momentum, wondering in a moment of rest what the Consortium, having crawled out from under its rock, thought of how well she and Deimos were working together. The pleasure of facing a common enemy, she mused as she ran in, driving her knee into the side of Morgan's head. As she landed on the mat from that, she limped a little, her knee not happy about the collision. Cypress was a mountain of man, no doubt about it. A fact she was reminded of when she took a knee to the gut and was unceremoniously deposited back into the ring following the double clothesline to herself and Deimos. It took a few moments to force breath back into her lungs. She fought back to her feet, her entire body already hurting. She looked around,expecting to see the great rhino of a man charging at her with the intent to leave her squashed into the mat. Nothing. This struck her as odd. It seemed Deimos was having the same thoughts. Eventually, the two shrugged and got back to business.
The triple belly-to-back suplexes did little for Risa's aching body. Yet after the third, folded in half like a piece of pita bread in a Gyro, Risa thought quickly of ichiro rooting for her. Not even sure how she managed it, she rolled one shoulder up from the mat, just enough to shift the center of balance of the hold, causing the break. Deimos was back on her again, and she considered the result of the previous week. A fire lit deep in her gut and she found a fifteenth wind she never knew she had. The screaming pain of her body became a dull ache. She fought her way out of the side headlock, only to find herself back in it again. Cursing herself, she considered the situation. Deciding on a course of action, she again extricated herself. Deimos was frustrated, and she caught him unawares, using one of the moves she had held in reserve. Pulling Deimos' neck between her knees, she pulled his left arm through and cinched in the Phoenix Cry. She squeezed as tightly as she could. She could see the color in Deimos' face changing, the look in his eyes when he realized he was in real trouble. His eyes closed tightly with the effort to not give up and, apparently, with the effort to stretch his foot far enough to reach the ropes. That, she hoped, should even the odds...
Next thing she knew, she was hanging in the corner. The sight she had expected to be Cypress Morgan was Deimos, charging in like the 215 to Tokyo. With no other choice, Risa let her body do what it wanted, fall out of the way, ducking to the right and looking back as she dropped to her knees. Deimos was caught too late to slam on the breaks and slammed square shoulder first into the ring post. The momentum carried him through and to the floor with a thud. Risa eased to the corner next to her and again used her arms on the top ropes to hold herself up. Her lungs wanted to explode. She'd felt like this before, and lost to Eden Morgan time and again. Then her vision spotted something large and not moving being shoved into the ring. A quick glance....Is that Jet? In just a towel?...she looked back to the unmoving blob. With a shake of her head, she recognized Cypress Morgan. A man had walked out of a match with her once and not gotten his payback. The memory of Zane Scott waving her off, dismissing her like some rent-a-geisha rekindled that fire one last time. Staggering from the corner, she got a grip on the big biker and somehow navigated his bulk upright.
SR: "This one's for you, Ichi-kun."
She got her shoulder under his chin and dropped him with the most force she could muster from her exhausted body. Not quite sure what had happened before this, but also not sure this would be sufficient, she took a great risk, one that resulted in a dropkick to the face earlier. Up to the top she went. Cypress showed no sign of moving. Risa sized him up and took to the air. The force of the impact on the big man caused her to bounce, rolling nearly a foot away. Her gut and ribs felt like they had just been slammed into the side of Mount Fuji.
SR: "This could be it. Don't lose it now! Focus!"
Again in her mind she heard Ichiro. Using her arm, she swung her body around on top of the prone defending Champion, grabbed his leg and held on with the last drops of strength in her body. The first two counts went fast. The third seemed to take forever. Did he kick out? Did Deimos come in and break up the count, knocking her out? Did she pass out and miss the count? What in the....
She heard the hand hit the mat and a moment later the bell sounded. She tried to roll off of Morgan, but more oozed to her back and lay there, eyes up at the lights. If she dared to really believe it, she had just done it. She closed her eyes and relied on her ears. The sound of Rising Phoenix causing the adrenaline to somehow find a supply of energy somewhere between her big and second toes of her feet. She rolled to her knees. Relief and disbelief flooding over her like a wave. Brian offered her the belt, noting this time he was glad she was sitting up and conscious to receive it. She nodded to him and held the belt in her arms, her eyes fixed on the front plate, the world, neatly sliced into four quarters, each with a different color of gemstone used to set the continent(s) on that part of the plate apart. Her body hurt, she wanted to lay down right there and go to sleep, but she forced her arms to pull the belt in and hug it tight to her chest. Deimos slammed his fists into the ring apron in frustration, eying her. He didn't move to attack, he nodded in what seemed to her to be respect and walked toward the back, obviously disappointed. She knew how he felt. The trainers arrived to look at Cypress. Risa dropped to her side and rolled gingerly from the ring, easing from the apron to her feet on the arena floor. One of the ringside trainers checked on her. She assured him she simply needed a week in a hot tub and a case of Advil, gave him a smile and started on her way. She paused at the bottom of the ramp, spotting a pair of girls about her own age, dressed in her old ring outfits. She staggered over, draped the belt over her shoulder and posed with them while one of the sound guys took a picture with the girls cell phones. That taken care of, Risa started up the ramp, forcing one foot in front of the other. As she passed through the curtain she was greeted by a few congratulatory comments from staff members and even a wrestler or two. Perhaps this match had finally earned her a little respect. She got to her locker room, eased down onto the bench and lowered the title belt to the bench in front of her, gazing at it again. It was going to weigh a ton in the morning, but for right now, it was light as a feather. It was then she noticed a piece of paper tucked into her locker door. She pulled it out, considering how she was going to yell at Ichiro for sneaking out of the hospital a few days early. A thought process interrupted by the actual message.
You were right. They did make a mistake. And you were there to relieve a Morgan of their title belt. Congratulations. Don't expect it to be so easy when you come after me. - E. M.
She quirked an eyebrow at the note, but gave a tired smile.
SR: "Don't worry. Everything will happen as it should. Tonight I finally proved that to myself. Patience, faith and belief in those around me. Trust in those closest to me. And in myself."
She folded the note and stopped. She traced her fingertips along the crease.
SR: "I just wish I could give you the help you were seeking. But until I know what's going on, all I can do is pray."
She levered herself up from the bench and opened the locker, placing the note in her purse. She grabbed a fresh set of undergarments, her washing supplies and a towel and closed the door to her locker. She paused, opened the door and set the belt inside, propped up on her gear bag. She retrieved her cell from her purse and, setting her bathing items down on the bench, got the angle just right. There was just the right light reflecting from the colors of the gemstones set in the face plate. She took a picture and texted it to Ichiro, her Grandfather and her Mother. Along with a short message. "Tonight I found out what it means to give more than you believe you can give. And this was the reward. Will talk tomorrow." She smiled at the picture, sent the messages. She returned her phone to her purse and closed the door to the locker, resting her palm on it.
SR: "So the next path in my journey begins. I wonder where it will take me. My guess would be, perhaps, to Outlast?"
With a grunt, she got her body moving.
SR: "Time to clean the Risa..."
She said to the old tune of the old Dunkin' Donuts man. She giggled softly as she passed around the tiled corner into the shower.....
(more to come!)
