Post by EmmaWoods007 on Aug 6, 2018 21:50:51 GMT
In todays modern age of entertainment, few were the wrestlers who still burned away the early hours of dawn in the gymnasium, finding that extra ten percent before most had even begun on one. It was, however, to Susan Style’s overall disgruntlement, a fact that her quarry on this particular morning was amongst them, pounding away on a punching bag as though it had personally sh*t in her cereal.
Susan Style sauntered into the expansive facilities provided by the Orlando Arena with a swish in her hips and a strut in her stride, the Commissioner of Monday Night Mayhem looking every single one of the millions of bucks that she had to her name as she absently tapped away a correspondence on her open phone. Satisfied that she had gotten her point across on that particular disagreement, she snapped the device closed and slipped it into her jacket, sipping from her steaming, fresh cappuccino with a single motion. Peeking over the top of her sunglasses, she spied her objective and moved in to intercept, the beguiling blonde a force of nature once she set her mind upon a purpose.
“Could you perhaps sleep like a normal person?” Susan queried before she took a seat, reclining back upon a bench as though it was a throne, “you’ve always been exhausting, do you know that?”
Carol Courage, the All-American Heroine, did not immediately acknowledge the arrival of her oldest friend, choosing instead to complete her routine with several, final, thunderous blows that would put many a boxer to shame. Stepping back from her purposeful exertion, the tall, powerful brunette both inhaled and exhaled deeply before wiping her brow, the sapphire clad warrior perspiring from head to toe, a stark contrast to the pristine appearance of Style.
“I’ll sleep when I’m tired,” Carol explained without a great deal of elaboration, not feeling as though it was required. As always, she was pleased to see her old friend and yet, as always, her smile was not a match of Susan’s, the Paladin of Power waiting for the other shoe to drop. Style was a woman of many agenda’s, and she was not above nudging a certain Courage into harm’s way in order to achieve them.
“Something vexes you,” Susan observed without even an attempt at delicacy, sipping from her cappuccino as she did so.
“Is that so?” Carol countered, returning to her assault of the punching bag, her composure cool and her manner, unusually, closed.
“Yes,” Style brooked no argument, “Susan knows you best after all, there’s no point denying it.”
Courage didn’t take the bait, even after a moments hesitation suggested she might.
“Is it Dayna?” Susan prodded with a deliberate lack of tact, “not many people have dropped you on your head so convincingly.”
Carol slammed her right fist against the bag with enough force to stretch the chain supporting it to breaking, she stepped back, offering her friend a warning stare before continuing. “You know me better than that, Susan, my ego has never gotten in my way before, and it won’t now. Dayna won out on the night, she earned it, I have to respect that.”
“Alright,” Style shrugged, utterly unruffled by the ire of the All-American Heroine, “so if it’s not someone, then it’s something.”
Again, Carol did not feel a need to illuminate her friend, although a furrowing of her brow confirmed that the All-American Angel was on the right track.
“Shouldn’t you be back at the Jungle by now?” Susan queried innocently, her posture, however, betraying just how coy she was truly being.
Courage stopped, prepared to start again before sighing deeply, abandoning her work out as she began to strip the tape from her hands. “You know I should be.”
“Of course I do,” Susan shrugged with a barely disguised smirk, effortlessly pleased with herself, “I helped get you the position after all, not that they wouldn’t have snapped you up regardless. I thought you enjoyed the work, running the promising little dears through the hoops, imparting words of wisdom.”
“I do,” Carol sighed again, frustration present in her shoulders and she sat down on the bench beside her oldest friend. “It’s good work, rewarding, there aren’t enough of us who give back to the community after we’re done.”
“But?” Susan prompted. After it became obvious that Carol wasn’t going to elaborate, Style rolled her eyes before forcing the issue. “You don’t think you’re done?”
Carol clenched her fists before answering, opening them again as she set her shoulders, “No, I don’t think I am.”
“Are you sure about that?” Susan perked her brow. “You’ve got nothing left to prove, you’ve had more World Titles wrapped about that waist of yours than most have held Titles period. And let’s not forget, time beats everyone.”
“I’m in my thirties Susan,” Courage looked to the smaller women beside her with a slightly annoyed furrowing of her brow, “not my grave.”
“Still, most athletes retire when we do for a reason,” Style countered with an unusual degree of open sincerity, leaning forwards to tap the brace wrapped about her right knee with her knuckles.
It proved to be a sombre moment for both accomplished women, Carol nodding in understanding and yet, as she looked to her open hands, she clenched them again. “I’m not done, Susan. I thought I was, but I’m not, I still have a race to run, regardless of how it ends.”
“Alright then!” Susan sat up straight with a beguiling smile, catching Courage flat footed with her sudden sense of enthusiasm. “Consider yourself back on the books.”
“Just like that?” Carol questioned, somewhat taken aback as Susan whipped out her mobile, tapping away furiously on what would later become a press release.
“Damn straight,” Style affirmed, already formulating her next move, “can’t let someone else sign you up, money to be made Carol, money to be made.”
Courage shook her head, leaving the All-American Angel to pursue her next agenda, certain that it would thrust Carol into the ring against one monster or another. She didn’t care, looking back to her own hands, the Paladin of Power was heading back in the direction she wanted to be going in, one last sprint to the finish line beckoning…
**********
CAROL COURAGE
AMANDA DARK
…The already weary Carol Courage released a strangled protest as Amanda Dark slimmed in behind the All-American Heroine and caught the crowd favourite in a restrictive and suffocating Sleeper, the powerful brunette momentarily stiffening before almost immediately visibly slackening. Having forcibly rebounded off the corner turnbuckle just moments before, arriving chest first and beyond her control, the brown eyed battler was winded to begin with before Dark slapped on her potentially match winning hold at centre ring, one arm encircling the embattled heroines neck whist the other palm braced against the ensnared woman’s temple.
Amanda back peddled half a step, her groggy foe forced to keep pace, a satisfied grin spreading across her features as she bore down on the Sleeper all the harder, her heart beating against the back of her Hardbody opponent, feeling the strength drain from her strong adversary.
The Paladin of Power stiffened again, this time for several seconds as she reached out with both of her arms in search of any manner of ring rope, a defiant grunt emerging from her torso before she slumped a moment or two later. With an involuntary shudder, Carol exhaled long and hard before Amanda tightened her grip all the more, wrenching the captured brunettes head left and then right both for good measure, and as a sign of hard won dominance over her childhood rival, Courage deflating before the eyes of her followers.
The Cavalry in attendance remained in full voice as they willed their idol on, the sapphire clad warrior of their affections scarcely able to remain standing as her hips began to shimmy, her peepers, often bright and filled with determination, fluttering and half lidded.
“That’s it, Carol,” Amanda ‘encouraged’ with a harsh whisper into her foes ear, tiny twists and turns of her grip rewarded by fresh hikes of pain from her opponent. “Let’s get this over with, stick with your first instinct,” Dark insisted as, with a heart sinking grunt, Courage dropped down hard to one knee, “it’s time to retire.”
Carol didn’t answer, not as her lips parted ever so slightly, her eyes slipping closed as her arms dropped down to her sides, the tips of fingers circling the canvas.
Empowered by the display of supplication, Dark grinned with vindictive viciousness and, as if to make her point, twisted her hold savagely to the right, provoking a deafening chorus of boos from the watching FAWNatics as the All-American Heroine convulsed and then slumped, upright only because Dark held her.
The Official moved in, eager to get the matter settled and securing the lifeless right arm of Carol, lifting it skywards before letting it go…
ONCE!
TWICE!!
…dropping without even a hint of hesitation.
THRI….
The Cavalry erupted as Carol kept her right hand airborne, however tentatively, her extended fingers opening and closing as though she was empowered by the support of her followers.
As Amanda began to feel the Paladin of Power begin to tense beneath her, however, she was unwilling to have any of it, warning’s echoing about the arena as her lips twisted in annoyance. She released the Sleeperhold so suddenly, the punch-drunk Carol almost flopped face first into the canvas, but ‘fortunately’ Dark was there to prevent her from doing so. After pulling both of them up to vertical, one brunette taking the majority of the others weight, the Mother of All Storms dipped low and shoved a shoulder into the solid tummy of her career long foe, grunting herself as she heaved the Paladin of Power up and over her shoulders in a statement making Fireman’s Carry.
The Gladiatrix photographers were on point to capture the moment of dominance at centre ring as Amanda circled slowly, her submissive package on display, securing her cargo with both hands as she made sure those who were watching knew who was in charge.
“Suit yourself, Carol,” Dark taunted with deadpan conviction, “you want to keep letting Style feed you to the wolves for ratings, who am I to stop you?”
Without further warning, Amanda shoved Carol free from her enforced perch across Dark’s shoulders with a shove between the Hardbodies powerful thighs, launching her lower body up and over. As Carol came to the apex of her arc, Amanda ensured she still had her opponent’s noggin secure, dropping down to one knee as gravity took hold and dragged her towards the matt. Unfortunately for Courage, there was an obstruction waiting on her way down to the canvas, the back of her neck CRACKING!! down hard over the posted, firm thigh of her opponent.
FIREMAN’S CARRY NECKBREAKER: @0:03
www.youtube.com/watch?v=8RuD-UQAqnU
Carol spasmed and cried out as the collision occurred before she completed her journey, splaying out on the matt with both of her arms and legs spread out wide. Amanda didn’t give her a chance to recover, not as she dropped to the mat herself and hooked one of her opponent’s stunning and strong stems, throwing herself over the top of the capitulated brunettes heaving bosom to secure the pin, Courage grunting forlornly beneath the sudden weight.
“I suppose if anyone’s going to put you out to pasture,” Dark muttered as, once again, the Official on hand to make the count, “it should be me.”
ONCE!
TWICE!!
Carol shoved up a shoulder, crying out as she did so, eliciting a growl of frustration from her opponent, and a chorus of cheers from the Cavalry. Amanda scowled at the FAWNatics, their repetitive chanting playing merry havoc with her hangover, and she exhaled deeply as she turned about and grabbed Courage by her hair.
One Hardbody brunette dragged the other to her feet by her mane, intent on finishing her for good, pushing her up to feet before delivering a derisive slap for good measure.
For Dark, however, there was no time to consider her error as, before the sting of the insulting swat she had so dismissively delivered had left her palm, Carol had caught the Mother of All Storms on the follow through and pushed her a full one eighty. Suddenly finding herself facing the wrong way, she opened her own lips to protest before Courage slipped her arms beneath Amanda’s shoulders and SLAPPED her palms down with force across the back of the other competitors’ neck, swiftly locking in an INTENSE Full Nelson.
Dark staggered before she tensed, clenching her fists as her arms were impotently spread out wide in cruciform, the captured brunette spitting like a hellcat as she fought to escape. With zero leverage to assist her, however, she was going no-where, Carol bearing down with all of her power as she kept the duo at centre ring, the Gladiatrix photographer’s returning the earlier favour and also capturing this moment for prosperity.
“Your problem, Amanda,” Courage observed, not impolitely, “is that you always talked too much.”
Dark violently cursed as she renewed her efforts to escape, thrashing this way and that and getting absolutely no-where, the FAWNatics applauding all the louder as the pressure at the base of Amanda’s neck only grew greater. Suddenly, almost as if a switch had been thrown, the Mother of All Storms slumped, all of the life momentarily going out of her before she surged back to life.
It didn’t last, that surge of defiance, the Hardbody soon slackening again, albeit ever so gradually, her ample bosom heaving as her glorious physique capitulated one inch at a time. She writhed and complained, but all for naught, her fists slackening into open fingers before her hands hung lip at the wrists. Her knees were the next to give out, unable to support her weight as consciousness was leeched out of her, Dark sputtering incoherently from between open lips as he mane of proud curls bobbed this way and that, her body surrendering to the inevitable.
Finally, as the ‘Perfect Professional’ hung insensible within the dominant Full Nelson of Carol Courage, the dominant brunette adjusted her grip ever so slightly. Satisfied that her long-time rival wasn’t faking her fatigue, the Paladin of Power switched her grip to a half nelson and then, with a great HEAVE, lifted the submissive frame of Dark skywards before bringing her right back to earth with an utterly devastating SLAM!!
THE PINNACLE DRIVER: @0:09
www.youtube.com/watch?v=50p2RcA4e34
Carol wasted no further time, feeling her own fatigue returning a hundred-fold, and she dropped down across the top of her opponent, securing both of her stems for a roll up pin, the Cavalry counting right alongside the Official.
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
The bell rang to confirm her victory and Carol exhaled a deep sigh of relief, releasing Amanda’s lifeless legs and pushing herself up to her own feet, not needing to wait for the Official’s prompting to raise both of her hands high. A weary smile found its way to her features unbidden, filled with equal amounts of warmth as it was relief, the All-American Heroine standing tall at centre ring.
If any doubts were still lingering, they were soon forgotten, the veteran still had one run left in the tank yet, regardless of the destination, and regardless of who stood before her…
Susan Style sauntered into the expansive facilities provided by the Orlando Arena with a swish in her hips and a strut in her stride, the Commissioner of Monday Night Mayhem looking every single one of the millions of bucks that she had to her name as she absently tapped away a correspondence on her open phone. Satisfied that she had gotten her point across on that particular disagreement, she snapped the device closed and slipped it into her jacket, sipping from her steaming, fresh cappuccino with a single motion. Peeking over the top of her sunglasses, she spied her objective and moved in to intercept, the beguiling blonde a force of nature once she set her mind upon a purpose.
“Could you perhaps sleep like a normal person?” Susan queried before she took a seat, reclining back upon a bench as though it was a throne, “you’ve always been exhausting, do you know that?”
Carol Courage, the All-American Heroine, did not immediately acknowledge the arrival of her oldest friend, choosing instead to complete her routine with several, final, thunderous blows that would put many a boxer to shame. Stepping back from her purposeful exertion, the tall, powerful brunette both inhaled and exhaled deeply before wiping her brow, the sapphire clad warrior perspiring from head to toe, a stark contrast to the pristine appearance of Style.
“I’ll sleep when I’m tired,” Carol explained without a great deal of elaboration, not feeling as though it was required. As always, she was pleased to see her old friend and yet, as always, her smile was not a match of Susan’s, the Paladin of Power waiting for the other shoe to drop. Style was a woman of many agenda’s, and she was not above nudging a certain Courage into harm’s way in order to achieve them.
“Something vexes you,” Susan observed without even an attempt at delicacy, sipping from her cappuccino as she did so.
“Is that so?” Carol countered, returning to her assault of the punching bag, her composure cool and her manner, unusually, closed.
“Yes,” Style brooked no argument, “Susan knows you best after all, there’s no point denying it.”
Courage didn’t take the bait, even after a moments hesitation suggested she might.
“Is it Dayna?” Susan prodded with a deliberate lack of tact, “not many people have dropped you on your head so convincingly.”
Carol slammed her right fist against the bag with enough force to stretch the chain supporting it to breaking, she stepped back, offering her friend a warning stare before continuing. “You know me better than that, Susan, my ego has never gotten in my way before, and it won’t now. Dayna won out on the night, she earned it, I have to respect that.”
“Alright,” Style shrugged, utterly unruffled by the ire of the All-American Heroine, “so if it’s not someone, then it’s something.”
Again, Carol did not feel a need to illuminate her friend, although a furrowing of her brow confirmed that the All-American Angel was on the right track.
“Shouldn’t you be back at the Jungle by now?” Susan queried innocently, her posture, however, betraying just how coy she was truly being.
Courage stopped, prepared to start again before sighing deeply, abandoning her work out as she began to strip the tape from her hands. “You know I should be.”
“Of course I do,” Susan shrugged with a barely disguised smirk, effortlessly pleased with herself, “I helped get you the position after all, not that they wouldn’t have snapped you up regardless. I thought you enjoyed the work, running the promising little dears through the hoops, imparting words of wisdom.”
“I do,” Carol sighed again, frustration present in her shoulders and she sat down on the bench beside her oldest friend. “It’s good work, rewarding, there aren’t enough of us who give back to the community after we’re done.”
“But?” Susan prompted. After it became obvious that Carol wasn’t going to elaborate, Style rolled her eyes before forcing the issue. “You don’t think you’re done?”
Carol clenched her fists before answering, opening them again as she set her shoulders, “No, I don’t think I am.”
“Are you sure about that?” Susan perked her brow. “You’ve got nothing left to prove, you’ve had more World Titles wrapped about that waist of yours than most have held Titles period. And let’s not forget, time beats everyone.”
“I’m in my thirties Susan,” Courage looked to the smaller women beside her with a slightly annoyed furrowing of her brow, “not my grave.”
“Still, most athletes retire when we do for a reason,” Style countered with an unusual degree of open sincerity, leaning forwards to tap the brace wrapped about her right knee with her knuckles.
It proved to be a sombre moment for both accomplished women, Carol nodding in understanding and yet, as she looked to her open hands, she clenched them again. “I’m not done, Susan. I thought I was, but I’m not, I still have a race to run, regardless of how it ends.”
“Alright then!” Susan sat up straight with a beguiling smile, catching Courage flat footed with her sudden sense of enthusiasm. “Consider yourself back on the books.”
“Just like that?” Carol questioned, somewhat taken aback as Susan whipped out her mobile, tapping away furiously on what would later become a press release.
“Damn straight,” Style affirmed, already formulating her next move, “can’t let someone else sign you up, money to be made Carol, money to be made.”
Courage shook her head, leaving the All-American Angel to pursue her next agenda, certain that it would thrust Carol into the ring against one monster or another. She didn’t care, looking back to her own hands, the Paladin of Power was heading back in the direction she wanted to be going in, one last sprint to the finish line beckoning…
**********
CAROL COURAGE
AMANDA DARK
…The already weary Carol Courage released a strangled protest as Amanda Dark slimmed in behind the All-American Heroine and caught the crowd favourite in a restrictive and suffocating Sleeper, the powerful brunette momentarily stiffening before almost immediately visibly slackening. Having forcibly rebounded off the corner turnbuckle just moments before, arriving chest first and beyond her control, the brown eyed battler was winded to begin with before Dark slapped on her potentially match winning hold at centre ring, one arm encircling the embattled heroines neck whist the other palm braced against the ensnared woman’s temple.
Amanda back peddled half a step, her groggy foe forced to keep pace, a satisfied grin spreading across her features as she bore down on the Sleeper all the harder, her heart beating against the back of her Hardbody opponent, feeling the strength drain from her strong adversary.
The Paladin of Power stiffened again, this time for several seconds as she reached out with both of her arms in search of any manner of ring rope, a defiant grunt emerging from her torso before she slumped a moment or two later. With an involuntary shudder, Carol exhaled long and hard before Amanda tightened her grip all the more, wrenching the captured brunettes head left and then right both for good measure, and as a sign of hard won dominance over her childhood rival, Courage deflating before the eyes of her followers.
The Cavalry in attendance remained in full voice as they willed their idol on, the sapphire clad warrior of their affections scarcely able to remain standing as her hips began to shimmy, her peepers, often bright and filled with determination, fluttering and half lidded.
“That’s it, Carol,” Amanda ‘encouraged’ with a harsh whisper into her foes ear, tiny twists and turns of her grip rewarded by fresh hikes of pain from her opponent. “Let’s get this over with, stick with your first instinct,” Dark insisted as, with a heart sinking grunt, Courage dropped down hard to one knee, “it’s time to retire.”
Carol didn’t answer, not as her lips parted ever so slightly, her eyes slipping closed as her arms dropped down to her sides, the tips of fingers circling the canvas.
Empowered by the display of supplication, Dark grinned with vindictive viciousness and, as if to make her point, twisted her hold savagely to the right, provoking a deafening chorus of boos from the watching FAWNatics as the All-American Heroine convulsed and then slumped, upright only because Dark held her.
The Official moved in, eager to get the matter settled and securing the lifeless right arm of Carol, lifting it skywards before letting it go…
ONCE!
TWICE!!
…dropping without even a hint of hesitation.
THRI….
The Cavalry erupted as Carol kept her right hand airborne, however tentatively, her extended fingers opening and closing as though she was empowered by the support of her followers.
As Amanda began to feel the Paladin of Power begin to tense beneath her, however, she was unwilling to have any of it, warning’s echoing about the arena as her lips twisted in annoyance. She released the Sleeperhold so suddenly, the punch-drunk Carol almost flopped face first into the canvas, but ‘fortunately’ Dark was there to prevent her from doing so. After pulling both of them up to vertical, one brunette taking the majority of the others weight, the Mother of All Storms dipped low and shoved a shoulder into the solid tummy of her career long foe, grunting herself as she heaved the Paladin of Power up and over her shoulders in a statement making Fireman’s Carry.
The Gladiatrix photographers were on point to capture the moment of dominance at centre ring as Amanda circled slowly, her submissive package on display, securing her cargo with both hands as she made sure those who were watching knew who was in charge.
“Suit yourself, Carol,” Dark taunted with deadpan conviction, “you want to keep letting Style feed you to the wolves for ratings, who am I to stop you?”
Without further warning, Amanda shoved Carol free from her enforced perch across Dark’s shoulders with a shove between the Hardbodies powerful thighs, launching her lower body up and over. As Carol came to the apex of her arc, Amanda ensured she still had her opponent’s noggin secure, dropping down to one knee as gravity took hold and dragged her towards the matt. Unfortunately for Courage, there was an obstruction waiting on her way down to the canvas, the back of her neck CRACKING!! down hard over the posted, firm thigh of her opponent.
FIREMAN’S CARRY NECKBREAKER: @0:03
www.youtube.com/watch?v=8RuD-UQAqnU
Carol spasmed and cried out as the collision occurred before she completed her journey, splaying out on the matt with both of her arms and legs spread out wide. Amanda didn’t give her a chance to recover, not as she dropped to the mat herself and hooked one of her opponent’s stunning and strong stems, throwing herself over the top of the capitulated brunettes heaving bosom to secure the pin, Courage grunting forlornly beneath the sudden weight.
“I suppose if anyone’s going to put you out to pasture,” Dark muttered as, once again, the Official on hand to make the count, “it should be me.”
ONCE!
TWICE!!
Carol shoved up a shoulder, crying out as she did so, eliciting a growl of frustration from her opponent, and a chorus of cheers from the Cavalry. Amanda scowled at the FAWNatics, their repetitive chanting playing merry havoc with her hangover, and she exhaled deeply as she turned about and grabbed Courage by her hair.
One Hardbody brunette dragged the other to her feet by her mane, intent on finishing her for good, pushing her up to feet before delivering a derisive slap for good measure.
For Dark, however, there was no time to consider her error as, before the sting of the insulting swat she had so dismissively delivered had left her palm, Carol had caught the Mother of All Storms on the follow through and pushed her a full one eighty. Suddenly finding herself facing the wrong way, she opened her own lips to protest before Courage slipped her arms beneath Amanda’s shoulders and SLAPPED her palms down with force across the back of the other competitors’ neck, swiftly locking in an INTENSE Full Nelson.
Dark staggered before she tensed, clenching her fists as her arms were impotently spread out wide in cruciform, the captured brunette spitting like a hellcat as she fought to escape. With zero leverage to assist her, however, she was going no-where, Carol bearing down with all of her power as she kept the duo at centre ring, the Gladiatrix photographer’s returning the earlier favour and also capturing this moment for prosperity.
“Your problem, Amanda,” Courage observed, not impolitely, “is that you always talked too much.”
Dark violently cursed as she renewed her efforts to escape, thrashing this way and that and getting absolutely no-where, the FAWNatics applauding all the louder as the pressure at the base of Amanda’s neck only grew greater. Suddenly, almost as if a switch had been thrown, the Mother of All Storms slumped, all of the life momentarily going out of her before she surged back to life.
It didn’t last, that surge of defiance, the Hardbody soon slackening again, albeit ever so gradually, her ample bosom heaving as her glorious physique capitulated one inch at a time. She writhed and complained, but all for naught, her fists slackening into open fingers before her hands hung lip at the wrists. Her knees were the next to give out, unable to support her weight as consciousness was leeched out of her, Dark sputtering incoherently from between open lips as he mane of proud curls bobbed this way and that, her body surrendering to the inevitable.
Finally, as the ‘Perfect Professional’ hung insensible within the dominant Full Nelson of Carol Courage, the dominant brunette adjusted her grip ever so slightly. Satisfied that her long-time rival wasn’t faking her fatigue, the Paladin of Power switched her grip to a half nelson and then, with a great HEAVE, lifted the submissive frame of Dark skywards before bringing her right back to earth with an utterly devastating SLAM!!
THE PINNACLE DRIVER: @0:09
www.youtube.com/watch?v=50p2RcA4e34
Carol wasted no further time, feeling her own fatigue returning a hundred-fold, and she dropped down across the top of her opponent, securing both of her stems for a roll up pin, the Cavalry counting right alongside the Official.
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
The bell rang to confirm her victory and Carol exhaled a deep sigh of relief, releasing Amanda’s lifeless legs and pushing herself up to her own feet, not needing to wait for the Official’s prompting to raise both of her hands high. A weary smile found its way to her features unbidden, filled with equal amounts of warmth as it was relief, the All-American Heroine standing tall at centre ring.
If any doubts were still lingering, they were soon forgotten, the veteran still had one run left in the tank yet, regardless of the destination, and regardless of who stood before her…