Post by The Crimson Ghost! on Feb 7, 2009 19:39:41 GMT -5
As big as Komosube was, as mighty or strong as he was, his eyes were as sensitive as any other man's, and he reeled from the eye rake, oblivious to anything but pain. This is it, he thought. Now I'm dead. Aito Chen has failed. An eternity dragged by before he realized he wasn't knocked asunder by a Superkick, or driven into the mat from a Graveyard Effect, and Komosube opened his eyes to see Brandon Brown and Deathman lifeless against the canvas, and Prescott's stupid, grinning gai-jin face up at the entrance. Rage shot through Komosube's brain, and his first inclination was to fly out the ring and pummel the life out of the cowardly twerp. Show the fucker what a bad idea it was to interfere in HIS match. He had gotten to his feet, and two steps into his pursuit realized that he had, whether he liked it or not, an opportunity. He looked down at his foes, and conflit tore through his mind, showing up on his face. (No.) He couldn't, or wouldn't, bypass this chance, contaminated though it was. The climb to the turnbuckle was Hell, and the crushing descent unto the hapless victim below did not set him free, as it usually did. However, that all left his thinking as he heard the ref's hand come down on the mat three times. He did it. He was Champion, of the fucking world.
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(30 minutes later.)
"HA HA HAA!!!" All in the locker room were looking at their new GiW Champion, some wide-eyed and flabergasted, others slightly insulted, and still others were grinning at Komosube's shenanigans, but Komosube made sure all eyes were on HIM. He noticed one who paid no attention; a tall, bleach blonde Nazi-wannabe shithead who was staring at the ceiling lighting. Komosube casually strode over, and knocked the 'Great White' on his back with a clothesline, not breaking that stride until he came face to face with the young new athlete, Chance. The young buck looked wary, but didn't back down or show any fear in the slightest. Komosube admired that, and slung the title over his left shoulder, grinning wide at the wrestler. He was in naught but his ring gear still, and was drenched in sweat. He spat in rapid-fire Japanese, his translator not in the room at this time. Even when he got down into the room, he wouldn't translate. No, Komosube wanted only ONE person to understand, and he wasn't in here at this time...
"Hey, you, thickbrained white fucker. What's the matter, lose your match?? Hey, you win in the long-run, right? That Jensen puke shoots himself, and you get his girl, I consider that a win!"
He clasped the kid on the back, laughing and ignoring the daggers-glare being shot at him by the young grappler/rapper. He spoke now in a friendly, almost sympathetic tone, masking the actual words.
"Hey, but what's with your out-of ring activities, trying to be less like a pink-skinned loser and more like a black-skinned loser? What, wanna trade that thick-brain for thicker lips? Put that energy in the ring sometime, you might even get the chance to lose against me for this thing, huh?!" He poked his own title as he spoke the word, 'thing,' and laughed, ruffling the kid's hair, before turning and rampaging toward Andy Savana...
The Fuhrer spoke to him, and as he rose, hatred swelled in his heart. The lepers and Gypsies flooded this land, but he would cleanse-
Komosube smashed 'Great White' down with yet another clothesline as the fucker rose to his feet, and he got right in the pill-popping crazy's face, ignoring the glazed-over return. He wouldn't admit that something about the guy freaked him out.
"And you! Think your tough 'cause you sneak some brass knucks against the GREATEST IN THE WORLD, Mr. Deathmatch?! He had you, you waste of space! Why don't you try that against me, huh?! Mr. PPV Headliner, tell me, why don't you have anything to show for your work, huh?! FUCK OFF!"
He sprayed Savana's face in spittle, and looked around, searching the crowd, until he saw the Hardcore Champion, nursing his stomach from a brutal Spear earlier, on a bench by his locker. Komosube approached, and BoolZ would see out of the corner of his eye...
No...Non-White forces conspired against him, trying to destroy the Purity of this New Reich, trying to lie to him, trying to pass over lesser things as human, and the scribblings of those things as Culture, but he knew better, and in time he would Rise up, and return this world to an Age of Beauty-
He was knocked down by yet another clothesline, and Komosube strode over to BoolZ. BoolZ looked up at him, and raised the can to his own lips, eyes smirking at the large man. Komosube grabbed the can from his hands violently, and chugged half of the can, before coughing and grimacing.
"BLAGH! You drink this horse piss?! No wonder your a fucking gutter champion! You pink-skinned monkeys ingest the most disgusting things, don't you?! Hey! That your belt?!"
He nodded over to the Hardcore Title next to BoolZ on the bench, and before Randy could respond Komo kicked it to the floor with his foot, laughing in the RBI's face, crumpling the can and throwing it in BoolZ's lap. Randy merely chuckled, and grabbed another Red Bull, but this was snatched away from him by Komo, and Komo drained the whole thing as well, just out of spite. He crumpled it as well, throwing it at BoolZ's feet, exclaiming loudly.
"YOU THINK YOUR A CHAMPION?! LET'S COMPARE PRIZES, HUH?! HOW ABOUT WE ARM-WRESTLE, AND SEE WHO IS MIGHTIER, HUH?! GET FUCKED!"
Komosube turned around, walking away. Just then, he would hear BoolZ speak, chuckling as he did so.
"Yeah, congragulations on your title win, too." And Komosube would turn, look over his shoulder at the RBI, and softly tilt his head, grinning humbly. He spoke in Japanese still, but it was softer, clearly friendly. "Thank you, Bulzian-san." But a second later, he was back to his original boasting, and looked up at the ceiling, shouting.
"HEY! HEY, JENSEN, YOU COWARDLY FUCK! YOU WANT A SHOT?! GRANT ME WINGS AND I'LL FUCK YOU UP IN HEAVEN! NONE, ALIVE, DEAD OR IMMORTAL MAY STOP KOMOSUBE! ALL HAIL HIROSHIMAAAA! ALL HAIL-"
clap, clap, clap
Komosube turned around, and looked to see Declan standing there, giving golf applause, dressed in a dull grey Armani Suit with a blood-red tie. Behind him, a few steps, was Cara, looking nervously at the whole scene. Komosube instantly knew he was going to destroy both, but before he got two steps, Declan spoke. Although the rest of the room found Komosube an offensive human being, the silence that followed Declan's entrance was different, somehow. They preferred Komosube's ranting.
"Yeah, congrats, big guy, getting yourself that title, just like I wanted you to. Just like I made sure. Don't bother speaking, the language gap and all, but just know this-You got that Title because I wanted you to have it, and when you lose it, that's going to be my doing, too. Your nothing but a big fat figurehead. Your the Emperor, but I'm the fucking Shogun. Enjoy that belt, tubso."
Declan turned to leave, and by this time, the translator was in the corner of the room. Komosube grinned, wide, speaking softly. His rage was palpitable, but his restraint at this time was frightening.
"Yeah, have fun cave exploring, Prescott-San."
Prescott turned, smiling, but puzzled. "Excuse me?"
Komosube sneered and grinned wider, continuing. His head gestured over to Cara.
"Well, with how much use the cum dump gets over there, you could mistake her cunt for the Grand Canyon!"
Cara's eyes widened in offense, tears welling up, and Prescott suddenly grew vicious, knuckles turning white. Komosube approached, walking slowly, enjoying the look. Komosube dropped the title next to the unconscious Great White as he continued walking.
"Hey, when you take her, you wear a condom, or a spelunking suit?! You bring a Canary with when you descend?!"
Komosube was laughing openly, and Prescott looked ready to kill. Komosube bent his knees, getting right in Prescott's face, and opened his left hand to reveal brass knucks. He offered them to Prescott, and spoke again.
"I'm concerned for you safety, sir. I'll buy you a parachute, in case you fall in and can't grab hold of anythi-"
It happened so kick, Prescott instantly took the knucks, donned them, and used them to pummel the face of the now openly laughing Komosube, who took the hits, a left, a brassed right, another left, dropping down to one knee from the force of the hits, but at no point was he in danger. He countered a right with his wrist, and shoved Prescott away. Prescott charged, and Komosube felt an arm around his throat, a leg behind his legs, and laughing, he Judo slammed his boss hard on his back and spine, countering the Signifigant Impact. Prescott dazedly got to his knees before Komosube grabbed the side of his head, driving him into McSkinny's locker, dneting the steel mini door inward before throwing the dazed Prescott away, Cara shrieking and stepping back, hands over her mouth and crying now, as Prescott shook the cobwebs out. Komosube laughing, he suddenly turned serious, and shouted at the rich foreigner.
"HEY, BARBARIAN! YOU WANNA TAKE THIS TITLE?! YOU WANNA SEND AN ARMY?! I'LL FIGHT WHOEVER, WHENEVER, YOU MISERABLE SHITHEAD! KOMOSUBE IS UNSTOPPABLE!"
He walked over, with his left hand he reached out and held the title that Great White was holding and staring at, and with one action he pulled the title with his left hand and destroyed GW with a right-handed clothesline, landing White face down, completely gone for the night. He tore out of there, changing in his own locker room, and it wasn't for another few hours while not sleeping in his motel that he realized Travis Roberts was up there with Prescott.
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(We see Komosube and Aragato sitting on folding chairs in their own locker room, Komosube garbed in a plain black t-shirt and those black workout pants with the white lines up the sides, title over his shoulder, looking truly angry. He looks at the camera, and Aragato off muttering that nonsense of his, eyes looking more crazy then usual.)
Komosube(Translated): Finally, I get a chance to rectify my mistake, my first losses, to that fat black bastard, Big B. Hey, Brandon! I hope you are at ringside, to view my systematic destruction of that example of American fitness who hangs around you! True, he outweighs me, but what is that weight?! It is not muscle, but lard, and I will show the world that none can stand in that ring with me! I will show that-
Chinatsu(Off, in the distance. Japanese.): Hey, Aito! Nifty fashion piece!
(Komosube looks riled, and his mood worsens as Chinatsu steps in, bubbly, rubbing the belt, totally in the promo shot. She is wearing some cute, stylish fashion attire, but it looks plain, and very affordable. Komosube pulls the title away. Aragato looks unconcerned with the happenings.)
Komosube(In Japanese, not translated, but subtitled.): Hey, get out of the shot, before I rip your head off!
Chinatsu(Japanese, subtitled.): Oh, shut up, dummy! What are you going to do, pin me after I'm taken out by someone else? Really, it's cool that your champion, but I don't see why you parade around that your the 'best.' It's not like you destroyed those two guys yourself...I'll bet your sitting here giving them the usual Komosube treatment...
(Chinatsu, gets up and impersonates Komosube, with exagerated movements, eyes crossed): "Ohh, bunch of shitheads, roundeye fuckers!" (she returns to normal, turning to Komosube) You know, it's really not healthy to get so angry and everyone, you should calm down before you get an ulcer...
(Komosube turns extremely red at this, and stands to his feet, livid, and shouts at Chen, who merely stands there, hair blowing from the force.)
Komosube: YOU MISERABLE LITTLE FUCKER, I'M GOING TO PROVE THAT I AM THE GREATEST, (the rest of it is too rapid-fire, and after a second he stops, and storms off, clearly angry.).
Chinatsu, after a moment: Gee, say it, don't spray it...I already took a shower, dummy!
Komosube(off in the distance.): SHUT THE FUCK UP!
(Chinatsu looks bothered by her cousin's behavior, eyebrows scrunched. After a second, Crimson Ghost walks in, looking behind him at Komosube, clearly trying to avoid the big Champ.)
Crimson Ghost: Hey, so, why put this camera to waste, right?
(Crimson gets behind the camera, and speaks. Aragato turns toward the camera, and looks at the scene now, not looking too concerned with anything.)
Crimson Ghost: Chinatsu, what are your feelings on the obvious racism and not to mention fake, plastic-looking tits of your opponent, Gabrielle?
Chinatsu(in English, blanches at Crimson's tits comments.): Hey, we're not here to insult her gratuitous cleavage that she displays for all, nor are we here to say things like, "Hey, looks like the Milk Bar's open for business!" Or, "You put cookies next to those for Santa Claus?" No, we're here simply to discuss how we feel the match is going to go, so please don't insult my opponent, and especially don't comment on her as "walking airbags," "Tits McGee," or even "Moo-Moo the Mighty." I think that is poor sportsmanship, Crimson Ghost. You should be ashamed of yourself!
Crimson Ghost: Oh, I'm very sorry, Chinatsu, I did not mean to sling mud like I did...thanks for setting me straight. So, anyway, you think she could win?
Chinatsu: Oh, for sure! I mean, we're talking the first multi-time FWA Women's Champion, a clear veteran of this business-as, her face no doubt is beginning to show- and a nasty competitor to boot. I have my work cut out for me, especially as my debut match. Still, I think she'd do poorly to underestimate me, and I look forward to seeing how our styles clash in the ring.
Crimson Ghost: Any words for the Pinnacle of Sexual Promiscuity?
(Chinatsu gasps, but one can tell she's not all that offended.)
Chinatsu: Crimson! Stop it!
Crimson Ghost: Sorry...
(camera zooms in.)
Chinatsu: ANYWAY, Ms. Montgomery, I wish you luck! Here's looking forward to a good match!
(Chinatsu exclaims in Japanese, and giggles and softly bows her head, before the camera is turned off.)
END PROMO.
OOC: I will never apologize enough to Declan Prescott for foolishly jumping his character in my own rp...I've learned since then, not to be a dumbass. Well, partially. And, just a note, that bold font is the thought process of 'Great White', a Nazi character whose handler proceeded to no-show, rp late, and just entirely disappeared. So, I took some liberties, hoping the sight of his character getting fucked up would inspire him to come back, and, like, get pumped. It didn't.
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(30 minutes later.)
"HA HA HAA!!!" All in the locker room were looking at their new GiW Champion, some wide-eyed and flabergasted, others slightly insulted, and still others were grinning at Komosube's shenanigans, but Komosube made sure all eyes were on HIM. He noticed one who paid no attention; a tall, bleach blonde Nazi-wannabe shithead who was staring at the ceiling lighting. Komosube casually strode over, and knocked the 'Great White' on his back with a clothesline, not breaking that stride until he came face to face with the young new athlete, Chance. The young buck looked wary, but didn't back down or show any fear in the slightest. Komosube admired that, and slung the title over his left shoulder, grinning wide at the wrestler. He was in naught but his ring gear still, and was drenched in sweat. He spat in rapid-fire Japanese, his translator not in the room at this time. Even when he got down into the room, he wouldn't translate. No, Komosube wanted only ONE person to understand, and he wasn't in here at this time...
"Hey, you, thickbrained white fucker. What's the matter, lose your match?? Hey, you win in the long-run, right? That Jensen puke shoots himself, and you get his girl, I consider that a win!"
He clasped the kid on the back, laughing and ignoring the daggers-glare being shot at him by the young grappler/rapper. He spoke now in a friendly, almost sympathetic tone, masking the actual words.
"Hey, but what's with your out-of ring activities, trying to be less like a pink-skinned loser and more like a black-skinned loser? What, wanna trade that thick-brain for thicker lips? Put that energy in the ring sometime, you might even get the chance to lose against me for this thing, huh?!" He poked his own title as he spoke the word, 'thing,' and laughed, ruffling the kid's hair, before turning and rampaging toward Andy Savana...
The Fuhrer spoke to him, and as he rose, hatred swelled in his heart. The lepers and Gypsies flooded this land, but he would cleanse-
Komosube smashed 'Great White' down with yet another clothesline as the fucker rose to his feet, and he got right in the pill-popping crazy's face, ignoring the glazed-over return. He wouldn't admit that something about the guy freaked him out.
"And you! Think your tough 'cause you sneak some brass knucks against the GREATEST IN THE WORLD, Mr. Deathmatch?! He had you, you waste of space! Why don't you try that against me, huh?! Mr. PPV Headliner, tell me, why don't you have anything to show for your work, huh?! FUCK OFF!"
He sprayed Savana's face in spittle, and looked around, searching the crowd, until he saw the Hardcore Champion, nursing his stomach from a brutal Spear earlier, on a bench by his locker. Komosube approached, and BoolZ would see out of the corner of his eye...
No...Non-White forces conspired against him, trying to destroy the Purity of this New Reich, trying to lie to him, trying to pass over lesser things as human, and the scribblings of those things as Culture, but he knew better, and in time he would Rise up, and return this world to an Age of Beauty-
He was knocked down by yet another clothesline, and Komosube strode over to BoolZ. BoolZ looked up at him, and raised the can to his own lips, eyes smirking at the large man. Komosube grabbed the can from his hands violently, and chugged half of the can, before coughing and grimacing.
"BLAGH! You drink this horse piss?! No wonder your a fucking gutter champion! You pink-skinned monkeys ingest the most disgusting things, don't you?! Hey! That your belt?!"
He nodded over to the Hardcore Title next to BoolZ on the bench, and before Randy could respond Komo kicked it to the floor with his foot, laughing in the RBI's face, crumpling the can and throwing it in BoolZ's lap. Randy merely chuckled, and grabbed another Red Bull, but this was snatched away from him by Komo, and Komo drained the whole thing as well, just out of spite. He crumpled it as well, throwing it at BoolZ's feet, exclaiming loudly.
"YOU THINK YOUR A CHAMPION?! LET'S COMPARE PRIZES, HUH?! HOW ABOUT WE ARM-WRESTLE, AND SEE WHO IS MIGHTIER, HUH?! GET FUCKED!"
Komosube turned around, walking away. Just then, he would hear BoolZ speak, chuckling as he did so.
"Yeah, congragulations on your title win, too." And Komosube would turn, look over his shoulder at the RBI, and softly tilt his head, grinning humbly. He spoke in Japanese still, but it was softer, clearly friendly. "Thank you, Bulzian-san." But a second later, he was back to his original boasting, and looked up at the ceiling, shouting.
"HEY! HEY, JENSEN, YOU COWARDLY FUCK! YOU WANT A SHOT?! GRANT ME WINGS AND I'LL FUCK YOU UP IN HEAVEN! NONE, ALIVE, DEAD OR IMMORTAL MAY STOP KOMOSUBE! ALL HAIL HIROSHIMAAAA! ALL HAIL-"
clap, clap, clap
Komosube turned around, and looked to see Declan standing there, giving golf applause, dressed in a dull grey Armani Suit with a blood-red tie. Behind him, a few steps, was Cara, looking nervously at the whole scene. Komosube instantly knew he was going to destroy both, but before he got two steps, Declan spoke. Although the rest of the room found Komosube an offensive human being, the silence that followed Declan's entrance was different, somehow. They preferred Komosube's ranting.
"Yeah, congrats, big guy, getting yourself that title, just like I wanted you to. Just like I made sure. Don't bother speaking, the language gap and all, but just know this-You got that Title because I wanted you to have it, and when you lose it, that's going to be my doing, too. Your nothing but a big fat figurehead. Your the Emperor, but I'm the fucking Shogun. Enjoy that belt, tubso."
Declan turned to leave, and by this time, the translator was in the corner of the room. Komosube grinned, wide, speaking softly. His rage was palpitable, but his restraint at this time was frightening.
"Yeah, have fun cave exploring, Prescott-San."
Prescott turned, smiling, but puzzled. "Excuse me?"
Komosube sneered and grinned wider, continuing. His head gestured over to Cara.
"Well, with how much use the cum dump gets over there, you could mistake her cunt for the Grand Canyon!"
Cara's eyes widened in offense, tears welling up, and Prescott suddenly grew vicious, knuckles turning white. Komosube approached, walking slowly, enjoying the look. Komosube dropped the title next to the unconscious Great White as he continued walking.
"Hey, when you take her, you wear a condom, or a spelunking suit?! You bring a Canary with when you descend?!"
Komosube was laughing openly, and Prescott looked ready to kill. Komosube bent his knees, getting right in Prescott's face, and opened his left hand to reveal brass knucks. He offered them to Prescott, and spoke again.
"I'm concerned for you safety, sir. I'll buy you a parachute, in case you fall in and can't grab hold of anythi-"
It happened so kick, Prescott instantly took the knucks, donned them, and used them to pummel the face of the now openly laughing Komosube, who took the hits, a left, a brassed right, another left, dropping down to one knee from the force of the hits, but at no point was he in danger. He countered a right with his wrist, and shoved Prescott away. Prescott charged, and Komosube felt an arm around his throat, a leg behind his legs, and laughing, he Judo slammed his boss hard on his back and spine, countering the Signifigant Impact. Prescott dazedly got to his knees before Komosube grabbed the side of his head, driving him into McSkinny's locker, dneting the steel mini door inward before throwing the dazed Prescott away, Cara shrieking and stepping back, hands over her mouth and crying now, as Prescott shook the cobwebs out. Komosube laughing, he suddenly turned serious, and shouted at the rich foreigner.
"HEY, BARBARIAN! YOU WANNA TAKE THIS TITLE?! YOU WANNA SEND AN ARMY?! I'LL FIGHT WHOEVER, WHENEVER, YOU MISERABLE SHITHEAD! KOMOSUBE IS UNSTOPPABLE!"
He walked over, with his left hand he reached out and held the title that Great White was holding and staring at, and with one action he pulled the title with his left hand and destroyed GW with a right-handed clothesline, landing White face down, completely gone for the night. He tore out of there, changing in his own locker room, and it wasn't for another few hours while not sleeping in his motel that he realized Travis Roberts was up there with Prescott.
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(We see Komosube and Aragato sitting on folding chairs in their own locker room, Komosube garbed in a plain black t-shirt and those black workout pants with the white lines up the sides, title over his shoulder, looking truly angry. He looks at the camera, and Aragato off muttering that nonsense of his, eyes looking more crazy then usual.)
Komosube(Translated): Finally, I get a chance to rectify my mistake, my first losses, to that fat black bastard, Big B. Hey, Brandon! I hope you are at ringside, to view my systematic destruction of that example of American fitness who hangs around you! True, he outweighs me, but what is that weight?! It is not muscle, but lard, and I will show the world that none can stand in that ring with me! I will show that-
Chinatsu(Off, in the distance. Japanese.): Hey, Aito! Nifty fashion piece!
(Komosube looks riled, and his mood worsens as Chinatsu steps in, bubbly, rubbing the belt, totally in the promo shot. She is wearing some cute, stylish fashion attire, but it looks plain, and very affordable. Komosube pulls the title away. Aragato looks unconcerned with the happenings.)
Komosube(In Japanese, not translated, but subtitled.): Hey, get out of the shot, before I rip your head off!
Chinatsu(Japanese, subtitled.): Oh, shut up, dummy! What are you going to do, pin me after I'm taken out by someone else? Really, it's cool that your champion, but I don't see why you parade around that your the 'best.' It's not like you destroyed those two guys yourself...I'll bet your sitting here giving them the usual Komosube treatment...
(Chinatsu, gets up and impersonates Komosube, with exagerated movements, eyes crossed): "Ohh, bunch of shitheads, roundeye fuckers!" (she returns to normal, turning to Komosube) You know, it's really not healthy to get so angry and everyone, you should calm down before you get an ulcer...
(Komosube turns extremely red at this, and stands to his feet, livid, and shouts at Chen, who merely stands there, hair blowing from the force.)
Komosube: YOU MISERABLE LITTLE FUCKER, I'M GOING TO PROVE THAT I AM THE GREATEST, (the rest of it is too rapid-fire, and after a second he stops, and storms off, clearly angry.).
Chinatsu, after a moment: Gee, say it, don't spray it...I already took a shower, dummy!
Komosube(off in the distance.): SHUT THE FUCK UP!
(Chinatsu looks bothered by her cousin's behavior, eyebrows scrunched. After a second, Crimson Ghost walks in, looking behind him at Komosube, clearly trying to avoid the big Champ.)
Crimson Ghost: Hey, so, why put this camera to waste, right?
(Crimson gets behind the camera, and speaks. Aragato turns toward the camera, and looks at the scene now, not looking too concerned with anything.)
Crimson Ghost: Chinatsu, what are your feelings on the obvious racism and not to mention fake, plastic-looking tits of your opponent, Gabrielle?
Chinatsu(in English, blanches at Crimson's tits comments.): Hey, we're not here to insult her gratuitous cleavage that she displays for all, nor are we here to say things like, "Hey, looks like the Milk Bar's open for business!" Or, "You put cookies next to those for Santa Claus?" No, we're here simply to discuss how we feel the match is going to go, so please don't insult my opponent, and especially don't comment on her as "walking airbags," "Tits McGee," or even "Moo-Moo the Mighty." I think that is poor sportsmanship, Crimson Ghost. You should be ashamed of yourself!
Crimson Ghost: Oh, I'm very sorry, Chinatsu, I did not mean to sling mud like I did...thanks for setting me straight. So, anyway, you think she could win?
Chinatsu: Oh, for sure! I mean, we're talking the first multi-time FWA Women's Champion, a clear veteran of this business-as, her face no doubt is beginning to show- and a nasty competitor to boot. I have my work cut out for me, especially as my debut match. Still, I think she'd do poorly to underestimate me, and I look forward to seeing how our styles clash in the ring.
Crimson Ghost: Any words for the Pinnacle of Sexual Promiscuity?
(Chinatsu gasps, but one can tell she's not all that offended.)
Chinatsu: Crimson! Stop it!
Crimson Ghost: Sorry...
(camera zooms in.)
Chinatsu: ANYWAY, Ms. Montgomery, I wish you luck! Here's looking forward to a good match!
(Chinatsu exclaims in Japanese, and giggles and softly bows her head, before the camera is turned off.)
END PROMO.
OOC: I will never apologize enough to Declan Prescott for foolishly jumping his character in my own rp...I've learned since then, not to be a dumbass. Well, partially. And, just a note, that bold font is the thought process of 'Great White', a Nazi character whose handler proceeded to no-show, rp late, and just entirely disappeared. So, I took some liberties, hoping the sight of his character getting fucked up would inspire him to come back, and, like, get pumped. It didn't.
