Post by SammieSinclair on Apr 11, 2015 22:16:21 GMT
Samantha Sinclair
Sascha Savarino
While the forever faithful, Bangor crowd all but revelled in Jungles (Semi) Indy Status, they were never ones to turn down a visitor from the Orlando Big Leagues, especially when said guest was the People’s Princess, otherwise known as Samantha Sinclair. The freckled cheeked, Leader of the Upstart Nation had arrived in town as a spectator, sitting amongst the audience and was, as some suspected, scouting out potential, future candidates for her most Babyfaced of Factions, but it was perhaps inevitable that she would end up on the other side of the steel barricades. Sascha Savarino, the self proclaimed ‘Only Girl of Gold’ had taken immediate exception the ‘Golden Girls’ presence in ‘her arena’ and had demanded, with the stamping of padded feet, that she ‘vacate immediately’ or ‘be forced to vacate.’
Sascha had expected the former; she had not been overly prepared to enforce the latter...
“E... ENOUGH!!” Savarino cursed and stuttered as she stumbled about the outside of the ring, barely retaining any resemblance of composure as her previously silky mane now stood frazzled beyond belief. Ten minutes of this unfolding ‘travesty’ was far longer than she was willing to partake in and, as she stumbled from one impact to her noggin too many, she was putting this whole, miserable mess behind her. Not only had Sinclair shown the audacity to vault the steel railing and invade the squared circle, but an ignorant Official had been also been audacious enough to make this impromptu, cross promotion match sanctioned.
“I... I WILL HAVE YOUR JOB!!” she promised with a violent jabbing of her finger, finally finding the offending man in black and white as she almost blindly spun a half circle. Sascha meant every word of it, prepared to follow through on her threat regardless of mounting displeasure of the FAWNatics concerning her ill temper, fully prepared to march out back and demand that the incompetent buffoon be immediately released or she would walk instead. It sounded like a reasonable demand to make, and certainly she was of more value than he was...
Samantha was still inside the squared circle, but while the Lebanese Tease had felt it was prudent to mouth off outside the ring, Sammie was more concerned of springing into renewed action. She ran, accompanied by a renewed ‘WHOOP!!” from the audience as she cleared the distance in no time flat, the Upstart sprinting with a bounce until she reached the ring ropes. For the most fleeting of moments she grasped the uppermost coil before, with a (not terribly terrifying) war worthy shout, the crowd sweetheart launched herself clean over the top.
The Little Sparrow took flight, the Loyalist Legionnaires finding their voices and proving that there really were plenty of them in attendance in FAWN’s Developmental Territories, defying gravity as only beloved Lightweights of her ilk could. Sascha only had time to open her dark brown eyes in horror before Sinclair found her target, her mouth pursing into a fresh, indignant curse before it was far too late. Sammie landed across the taller young women’s shoulders as though taking a chair, albeit only for a brief second, slapping her athletic thighs together tightly about her impromptu opponents noggin to both secure her hold and, thankfully for many involved, shut her continued screeching shut. With another shout, this one rousing those closest to cheer louder, the People’s Princess whiplashed the rest of her petite body backwards, swinging herself around in a glorious spiral and ripping Savarino clean off her feet with a jaw dropping Slingshot Rana!
SLINGSHOT RANA: @1:00
www.youtube.com/watch?v=bdNIk0WV3s4
Head over heels, Sascha was taken to the cold concrete, crashing shoulders first with a dull THUD!! before the rest of her seductively sculptured frame followed soon after. With a pained, shuddering exhale, Savarino continued skidding, sliding across the floor until she reached the nearest barricade. With one last roll she flopped against the steel, right leg twitching as she barely remained conscious.
In contract, the Former Lightweight Champion was back on the feet with nary a skip, freckled cheeks flushing as she flashed her endearing grin. Button nose twitching with excitement, she was flush with vigour, whipping her hands up high and the Bangor crowd embraced her, standing ‘tall’ at a mighty ‘five foot four’ of all adorable mass. Her smile slipped into a smirk as she began to clap three times, the repeating rhythm loud, proud and thrown out in a rapid tempo, encouraging all others to join in likewise and bring life to the Upstart Nation’s Marching Beat. It was a rallying cry and, after swishing her chocolate curls about in a dramatic fasion for the hard camera’s benefit, the Bright Eyed Wonder prepared to finish it.
The warning from the FAWNatics would have come far too late even if they’d had time to voice it, Sammie barely aware of the rippling discontent as a third figure came tearing down towards ringside. Whilst the blonde in question was moving at breakneck speeds, there was no mistaking her identity, nor was there any confusion as whether her arrival was for good or ill. While she might well be attired in enough pink lace to match Chloe Fields in Babyface appearance, there was little beyond her cherubim features and blonde curls that could be considered angelic about Daisy LeMay!
Daisy LeMay
Sammie turned, pretty peepers questioning and yet, long before words could even think to escape the lips of the Most Prolific of the Sinclairs, Daisy was already diving. The leaping Spear was as devastating as it was unexpected, the assailants shoulder delving deep into the slim, trim tummy of beloved brunette and, with an almighty “GUFF!” of air exploding from Sinclair’s small, unprepared body, the Golden Girl was ripped off her feet and forcibly folded about the offending joint.
She would have been taken right down to the cold, unyielding concrete had the apron not prevented her continued descent, and yet that outcome was far from pleasant. Sammie groaned a fresh grunt as the ringside cracked against her spine, popping a vertebra and forcing her to twitch, freckled features scrunching up in gutted misery as the Loyalist Legionnaire’s voiced their anger.
Daisy didn’t seem too much care, if anything the smug smile of satisfaction seemed to be prove that she was indeed on the right track, pulling herself back out of the heroines impaled tummy and looking the brunette in her pained peepers. Grabbing the Golden Girl by her shoulders, she pulled the penitent Sammie forwards into a low bow; leaning over the young women’s back and wrapped her arms about the visitor’s midriff.
“I could say this isn’t personal,” Daisy cooed with a tone that was sugar and sweet and yet filled with malice, “but Bethany insists that I have to make a statement before the weekend.” With the smallest of girly grunts, LeMay bent her knees and then, with a pop, the long term Jungle Dweller lifted, heaved and then swung the blindsided, Tiny Titan within her grasp skyward, deftly hupping the Leader of the Upstart Nation up across her shoulder in an expert, Canadian Backbreaker! “You see, my window is closing and I need a way in so, hell, you should consider this plenty personal bytch!”
Sammie released a pained cry that was involuntarily loud and utterly heartbreaking, one that she clamped down on as quickly as was possible regardless of how much she was jostled. She hung there limply, the English Import of Perfectly Petite Proportions groaning as she was ruthlessly jerked up and down, her abused spine popping as she was contorted over an unyielding joint with short, sharp spasms. Her pretty peeper fluttered, the young women rotated and exposed, displayed for the displeased masses as they rallied against her mistreatment.
For Daisy, all of this was just grandstanding, asserting control over the People’s Princess with the ‘March to War’ PPV looming on the horizon. What was to be done next, now that was to be her point. With a shove of her hands and a roll of her punishing shoulder, Sammie was dislodged and she was sent tumbling sideways but, before gravity could assert control, LeMay was still moving. Catching the noggin of the soon to be descending Upstart, the blonde dropped down to sitting also, the sudden stop for the brunette within her tightening grasp as her forehead was positively SMASHED!! against the weaponised joint by way of modified RKO!!
Samantha jack knifed away, unconscious even as she shot back up to standing, the latest victim of the Daisy Cutter! Finally Sinclair was allowed to find the concrete; the beloved visitor brain blasted into a pained stupor and sent flopping over onto her back and shoulders. Jerking with the odd, small twitch, but otherwise unresponsive to the world around her.
The match had been ended the moment Daisy had intervened, albeit for her own benefit, the Official calling for an immediate disqualification and now finding himself impotent in halting the unfolding slaughter. None the less, LeMay had been in this business long enough to see a pedestal when she saw one and, with the smuggest of infuriating smiles, she planted one pink sneaker down hard atop Sinclairs gently rising, petite bosom and raised her flag. Sammie grunted but did not otherwise protest, a prop now for her conqueror as LeMay posed for the nearest camera.
“Count yourself lucky,” the blonde mocked, liking the sound of the devastated Sammie moaning and so ground her heel deep in order to encourage more mewling, “you’re only my pedestal for tonight. At March to War, that other worthless Brit Bint will be mine for the taking...”
Sascha Savarino
While the forever faithful, Bangor crowd all but revelled in Jungles (Semi) Indy Status, they were never ones to turn down a visitor from the Orlando Big Leagues, especially when said guest was the People’s Princess, otherwise known as Samantha Sinclair. The freckled cheeked, Leader of the Upstart Nation had arrived in town as a spectator, sitting amongst the audience and was, as some suspected, scouting out potential, future candidates for her most Babyfaced of Factions, but it was perhaps inevitable that she would end up on the other side of the steel barricades. Sascha Savarino, the self proclaimed ‘Only Girl of Gold’ had taken immediate exception the ‘Golden Girls’ presence in ‘her arena’ and had demanded, with the stamping of padded feet, that she ‘vacate immediately’ or ‘be forced to vacate.’
Sascha had expected the former; she had not been overly prepared to enforce the latter...
“E... ENOUGH!!” Savarino cursed and stuttered as she stumbled about the outside of the ring, barely retaining any resemblance of composure as her previously silky mane now stood frazzled beyond belief. Ten minutes of this unfolding ‘travesty’ was far longer than she was willing to partake in and, as she stumbled from one impact to her noggin too many, she was putting this whole, miserable mess behind her. Not only had Sinclair shown the audacity to vault the steel railing and invade the squared circle, but an ignorant Official had been also been audacious enough to make this impromptu, cross promotion match sanctioned.
“I... I WILL HAVE YOUR JOB!!” she promised with a violent jabbing of her finger, finally finding the offending man in black and white as she almost blindly spun a half circle. Sascha meant every word of it, prepared to follow through on her threat regardless of mounting displeasure of the FAWNatics concerning her ill temper, fully prepared to march out back and demand that the incompetent buffoon be immediately released or she would walk instead. It sounded like a reasonable demand to make, and certainly she was of more value than he was...
Samantha was still inside the squared circle, but while the Lebanese Tease had felt it was prudent to mouth off outside the ring, Sammie was more concerned of springing into renewed action. She ran, accompanied by a renewed ‘WHOOP!!” from the audience as she cleared the distance in no time flat, the Upstart sprinting with a bounce until she reached the ring ropes. For the most fleeting of moments she grasped the uppermost coil before, with a (not terribly terrifying) war worthy shout, the crowd sweetheart launched herself clean over the top.
The Little Sparrow took flight, the Loyalist Legionnaires finding their voices and proving that there really were plenty of them in attendance in FAWN’s Developmental Territories, defying gravity as only beloved Lightweights of her ilk could. Sascha only had time to open her dark brown eyes in horror before Sinclair found her target, her mouth pursing into a fresh, indignant curse before it was far too late. Sammie landed across the taller young women’s shoulders as though taking a chair, albeit only for a brief second, slapping her athletic thighs together tightly about her impromptu opponents noggin to both secure her hold and, thankfully for many involved, shut her continued screeching shut. With another shout, this one rousing those closest to cheer louder, the People’s Princess whiplashed the rest of her petite body backwards, swinging herself around in a glorious spiral and ripping Savarino clean off her feet with a jaw dropping Slingshot Rana!
SLINGSHOT RANA: @1:00
www.youtube.com/watch?v=bdNIk0WV3s4
Head over heels, Sascha was taken to the cold concrete, crashing shoulders first with a dull THUD!! before the rest of her seductively sculptured frame followed soon after. With a pained, shuddering exhale, Savarino continued skidding, sliding across the floor until she reached the nearest barricade. With one last roll she flopped against the steel, right leg twitching as she barely remained conscious.
In contract, the Former Lightweight Champion was back on the feet with nary a skip, freckled cheeks flushing as she flashed her endearing grin. Button nose twitching with excitement, she was flush with vigour, whipping her hands up high and the Bangor crowd embraced her, standing ‘tall’ at a mighty ‘five foot four’ of all adorable mass. Her smile slipped into a smirk as she began to clap three times, the repeating rhythm loud, proud and thrown out in a rapid tempo, encouraging all others to join in likewise and bring life to the Upstart Nation’s Marching Beat. It was a rallying cry and, after swishing her chocolate curls about in a dramatic fasion for the hard camera’s benefit, the Bright Eyed Wonder prepared to finish it.
The warning from the FAWNatics would have come far too late even if they’d had time to voice it, Sammie barely aware of the rippling discontent as a third figure came tearing down towards ringside. Whilst the blonde in question was moving at breakneck speeds, there was no mistaking her identity, nor was there any confusion as whether her arrival was for good or ill. While she might well be attired in enough pink lace to match Chloe Fields in Babyface appearance, there was little beyond her cherubim features and blonde curls that could be considered angelic about Daisy LeMay!
Daisy LeMay
Sammie turned, pretty peepers questioning and yet, long before words could even think to escape the lips of the Most Prolific of the Sinclairs, Daisy was already diving. The leaping Spear was as devastating as it was unexpected, the assailants shoulder delving deep into the slim, trim tummy of beloved brunette and, with an almighty “GUFF!” of air exploding from Sinclair’s small, unprepared body, the Golden Girl was ripped off her feet and forcibly folded about the offending joint.
She would have been taken right down to the cold, unyielding concrete had the apron not prevented her continued descent, and yet that outcome was far from pleasant. Sammie groaned a fresh grunt as the ringside cracked against her spine, popping a vertebra and forcing her to twitch, freckled features scrunching up in gutted misery as the Loyalist Legionnaire’s voiced their anger.
Daisy didn’t seem too much care, if anything the smug smile of satisfaction seemed to be prove that she was indeed on the right track, pulling herself back out of the heroines impaled tummy and looking the brunette in her pained peepers. Grabbing the Golden Girl by her shoulders, she pulled the penitent Sammie forwards into a low bow; leaning over the young women’s back and wrapped her arms about the visitor’s midriff.
“I could say this isn’t personal,” Daisy cooed with a tone that was sugar and sweet and yet filled with malice, “but Bethany insists that I have to make a statement before the weekend.” With the smallest of girly grunts, LeMay bent her knees and then, with a pop, the long term Jungle Dweller lifted, heaved and then swung the blindsided, Tiny Titan within her grasp skyward, deftly hupping the Leader of the Upstart Nation up across her shoulder in an expert, Canadian Backbreaker! “You see, my window is closing and I need a way in so, hell, you should consider this plenty personal bytch!”
Sammie released a pained cry that was involuntarily loud and utterly heartbreaking, one that she clamped down on as quickly as was possible regardless of how much she was jostled. She hung there limply, the English Import of Perfectly Petite Proportions groaning as she was ruthlessly jerked up and down, her abused spine popping as she was contorted over an unyielding joint with short, sharp spasms. Her pretty peeper fluttered, the young women rotated and exposed, displayed for the displeased masses as they rallied against her mistreatment.
For Daisy, all of this was just grandstanding, asserting control over the People’s Princess with the ‘March to War’ PPV looming on the horizon. What was to be done next, now that was to be her point. With a shove of her hands and a roll of her punishing shoulder, Sammie was dislodged and she was sent tumbling sideways but, before gravity could assert control, LeMay was still moving. Catching the noggin of the soon to be descending Upstart, the blonde dropped down to sitting also, the sudden stop for the brunette within her tightening grasp as her forehead was positively SMASHED!! against the weaponised joint by way of modified RKO!!
Samantha jack knifed away, unconscious even as she shot back up to standing, the latest victim of the Daisy Cutter! Finally Sinclair was allowed to find the concrete; the beloved visitor brain blasted into a pained stupor and sent flopping over onto her back and shoulders. Jerking with the odd, small twitch, but otherwise unresponsive to the world around her.
The match had been ended the moment Daisy had intervened, albeit for her own benefit, the Official calling for an immediate disqualification and now finding himself impotent in halting the unfolding slaughter. None the less, LeMay had been in this business long enough to see a pedestal when she saw one and, with the smuggest of infuriating smiles, she planted one pink sneaker down hard atop Sinclairs gently rising, petite bosom and raised her flag. Sammie grunted but did not otherwise protest, a prop now for her conqueror as LeMay posed for the nearest camera.
“Count yourself lucky,” the blonde mocked, liking the sound of the devastated Sammie moaning and so ground her heel deep in order to encourage more mewling, “you’re only my pedestal for tonight. At March to War, that other worthless Brit Bint will be mine for the taking...”
