Post by EmmaWoods007 on Aug 9, 2018 9:54:32 GMT
SAMANTHA SINCLAIR
ALEJANDRA FERNANDEZ
By all accounts, Samantha Sinclair spent far more time fighting outside of the ring that she would like, perhaps due to her predication towards getting carried away. She couldn’t help it, not while the lights were on and her heart was beating, not when the crowds were cheering and her adrenaline was surging, not when the moment came and she was driven by instinct. It was the spectacle, it was the wonder, it was all about the show…
It was in her blood.
The most Baby-faced of Brits raised her hands up high mere moments after Alejandra Fernandez had been forced to tumble ass backwards over the top rope of the squared circle to the barely padded concrete outside, the Loyalist Legionnaires in attendance responding with a roof raising cheer. They knew what was coming, even if it was only on a subconscious level, and it was with a barely repressed smirk that the gold clad athlete spied her objective and set off at a sprint. As light footed as any competitor in wrestling could hope to be, she cleared the distance to the apron in no time, waiting until the last moment before she popped her knees and, with an utterly endearing (and not at all fearsome) war cry, the Upstart Supreme launched her lithe physique into the air and spun into a delightful, forward sault that took her clean over the top coil.
As much as gravity clearly loved her, that particular force of nature always demanded it’s due eventually, which was all well and good as far as Sinclair was concerned, tucking into a ball as she began her rapid descent to the outside of the ring. Fortunately for her, Fernandez was on hand to break her fall, the already battered Alejandra scraping herself off the floor just in time for one the cutest backsides in FAWN to SMACK her square in the face at a most unwelcome velocity.
Both competitors went to the concrete, albeit one in a far fouler mood than the other, and Sammie betrayed not an iota of discomfort following the high velocity collision, which was easier enough to do when you had the upper hand. Rolling with the collision, the Bright-Eyed Wonder vacated her unwilling crash pad and proceeded to fight her feet, rapidly arriving at the barricade separating her from the front row a little faster than she would have liked, hitting it at a slightly less than graceful stumble, to which she responded with an embarrassed bite of her bottom lip. The Legionnaires forgave her, several in the front row slapping her on her slender shoulders, Sinclair bobbing back and saluting her faithful followers, rewarded by a fresh pop of applause.
She needed this, after Iron’s equal need to make a statement at her expense, she needed to fly again.
“Come on, Alejandra,” Sammie nodded, as much to herself as anyone, turning about on the spot whilst trying to control her breathing, the match having taken much out of them both. She reached down to her painfully muttering opponent, tucking her hands beneath the shoulders of the heavier Lightweight, huffing just a little bit as she attempted to lift, carry and shuffle the ebony clad warrior back into the ring. “Let’s back to where we belong.”
Alejandra didn’t answer, not with a carefully chosen vocabulary at any rate, instead opting to say what she felt with a cry of frustration, Fernandez shouting herself hoarse as she surged into action. Caught wide eyed with surprise, Sammie opened her lips to voice her own astonishment, only there was no time to do so, instead the beloved Lightweight was SHOVED backwards several yards as though she was strapped to the front of a locomotive, and she instead released a high cry of pain as the small of her back was DRIVEN into the apron.
Sinclair bucked backwards into a painful arch as her neck became an equal victim of whiplash, the brunette of perfectly petite proportions caught between a rock and a hard place as her miniature mass struggled to process the flash of intense pain. For just a moment, her lithe legs gave out, the young woman weak at the knees as she almost fell to the floor, Alejandra there to keep her upright, albeit with ill and intentions.
The Legionnaires GASPED with concern as the ebony clad warrior snarled and shoved her right arm between the open thighs of her smaller opponent and wrapped the other across the girl’s unresponsive shoulders. With Sinclair too stunned to resist, the far stronger Fernandez was finally where she wanted to be as she hupped, heaved and all but hurled the unresisting, People’s Princess up and over in a wide arc, caught clearly on camera for those watching at home, before SLAMMING the young woman back first onto the barely padded concrete.
Sammie recoiled from the brutal impact with the pavement with an explosion of escaped air, before the entirety of her petite frame slumped into a pained puddle, her right leg popped up at the knee, one hand waving absently towards the rafters.
Fernandez wasn’t satisfied, not by a long shot, dropping down to one knee and grabbing her stunned opponent with a fistful of her proud curls. With her foes noggin raised ever so slightly and appropriately secure, Alejandra rained down not one, not two, but three viciously precise forearm smashes to the forehead of the Upstart Supreme, Sinclair responding with a short, sharp groan to each and every one, all sense of resistance beaten out of her both quickly and efficiently. Her pretty peepers remained half open, but no-one was home right now, the gold clad athlete staring blankly onto the masses before a satisfied Alejandra pushed the girls head back down against the cold concrete.
“That is where you belong,” Fernandez insisted, delivering a fourth forearm smash to the Upstart Supremes’ dazed noggin just so that there was no confusion. There was no love lost between the duo, not since the feud between Bad Reputation and the World’s Best Brits had failed to pay dividends for Alejandra’s upwards momentum, and her seeming inability to just put Sinclair down was a source of constant frustration.
All of that was over however, for while the World’s Best Brits had disbanded, the Leader of the Upstart Nation was still a scalp worth it’s weight in gold, and tonight she would finally collect. Seizing Sinclair’s curls with both her hands now, she fed off the protests of the FAWNatics as she draaaaaaaaged their insensible heroine back to her feet and all but tossed her back into the ring, rolling the rag doll body of her opponent beneath the bottom rope.
Fernandez allowed herself a moment to posture before the crowd, she’d earned it after all, making sure they understood just who was in charge before she set about climbing inside the ring herself, ducking between the top and middle ropes. She strutted to the centre, just where the perfectly petite Sinclair was obediently waiting for her demise, the young woman blinking rapidly and, with pained groans, was trying to get up, some part of the Babyface Brit demanding that she recover faster.
Alejandra would be impressed, if she didn’t hate the bitch so much. Instead she leaned forwards and reapplied her two fistfuls of the Upstart Supremes curls, yanking the lithe athlete to her feet.
“Stay close,” Fernandez warned the Official over her shoulder, “she’s about to be done.”
Sammie, however, had entirely different ideas, the shouts of the Legionnaire’s willing her on echoing about some instinctive corner of her noggin and compelling her into action. Responding with the tenacity of only the most Babyfaced of fighters, Sinclair lived up to her family’s name by crying out and pulling backwards hard enough to YANK her own hair free from her opponents grasp, several strands of her proud mane left clutched between Alejandra’s clenched fingers.
Next, she did what any high flyer did best, which was take to the air. Turning about ever so slightly, Sinclair flipped her delightful frame up and over, head over heels and all but into an impromptu handstand as she SLAMMED her right boot into the stunned temple of the flat-footed Fernandez, the Pele Kick landing with pin point precision.
As the Bright-Eyed Wonder continued to pivot and spin right back down onto her feet, Alejandra teetered on the spot as though she was unsure as to whether or not she was supposed to fall over. Much to the delight of the FAWNatics, she did preciously that, falling backwards to the canvas like a sack of potatoes where she lay staring upwards towards the rafters.
If she was being entirely honest, which she generally was, Sammie would later admit that she wasn’t entirely certain just who was still driving when she immediately set off at a sprint, the spritely lass leaping at the last moment to meet the waiting coils. She connected with the middle rope feet first and, after the suddenly taunt spring snapped back into shape, the young woman was positively LAUNCHED into the air, much to the appreciation of those watching, Sinclair turning her gorgeously sculptured physique in a hypnotic arc that turned her about to SPLASH the splayed-out Alejandra belly to belly!
SAMMIE SAULT
www.youtube.com/watch?v=-OScYCZi-KA
While Sammie would be feeling the sting of her own, bare tummy for hours to come, it was Fernandez who was forced to buck about the lithe frame of Sinclair, her shoulders and legs kicking off the canvas as she GASPED for air. She slumped back to the mat as the Brit of Perfectly Petite Proportions was all but propelled back up to her feet by the force of the impact, finding verticality with a short stumble and a deep, if somewhat pained exhale of air as she pointed directly towards the nearest corner. The Loyalist’s in attendance responded with a hearty cheer and Sinclair, brain finally catching up with her autopilot, realised that she had no choice but to carry through.
Fortunately, she had a predication towards getting carried away.
After checking to make sure Fernandez at least looked like to she was going to be stay where Sammie had left her, the Upstart Supreme set off for her promised destination and, with a hop, skip and jump, deftly elevated her athletic physique up and onto the top turnbuckle. She stood there, as high as one could get within the squared circle, dexterously balanced with her feet braced upon the uppermost ropes, the People’s Princess raising both of her hands up high and facing the FAWNatics, welcoming their devotion with a weary, heart-warming smile.
She wiggled her fingers in expectation and they answered, bringing their hands together at her prompting to join her in her personal mantra. She brought her palms together to clap…
ONCE!
TWICE!!
THRICE!!!
…The Upstart Nation call to war and, as the anticipation reached its apex, Samantha LAUNCHED her delightful mass backwards into not one, but two full rotations before SLAMMING down HARD across the unfortunate Fernandez for devastating, high flying splash, the Sinclair Summer Slam!!
SINCLAIR SUMMER SLAM
www.youtube.com/watch?v=yk7UuDvp0mI
Alejandra convulsed, gagged and then collapsed beneath the collision that had both won and retained Titles, her body emptying of air as her powerful body shuddered into an insensible heap. There she remained, as Sammie managed to prevent herself from simply rebounding right back off her opponent, dropping as quickly as she could to collect a leg and allow the Official to drop and begin his count…
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!
The stadium erupted and Sinclair was up on her knees in an instant, feeling no great need to grandstand over a defeated opponent as she leaned her own head back in relief. It took her a little longer to find her feet, weary from button nose and tippy toe, more than happy to let the Official raise her right hand in victory as she smiled back at her Legionnaires.
Her back was feeling in need of repair and she could sleep for the next week, but for now she felt lighter than air, which was a feeling that she was going to need for when she next ran into Irons…
ALEJANDRA FERNANDEZ
By all accounts, Samantha Sinclair spent far more time fighting outside of the ring that she would like, perhaps due to her predication towards getting carried away. She couldn’t help it, not while the lights were on and her heart was beating, not when the crowds were cheering and her adrenaline was surging, not when the moment came and she was driven by instinct. It was the spectacle, it was the wonder, it was all about the show…
It was in her blood.
The most Baby-faced of Brits raised her hands up high mere moments after Alejandra Fernandez had been forced to tumble ass backwards over the top rope of the squared circle to the barely padded concrete outside, the Loyalist Legionnaires in attendance responding with a roof raising cheer. They knew what was coming, even if it was only on a subconscious level, and it was with a barely repressed smirk that the gold clad athlete spied her objective and set off at a sprint. As light footed as any competitor in wrestling could hope to be, she cleared the distance to the apron in no time, waiting until the last moment before she popped her knees and, with an utterly endearing (and not at all fearsome) war cry, the Upstart Supreme launched her lithe physique into the air and spun into a delightful, forward sault that took her clean over the top coil.
As much as gravity clearly loved her, that particular force of nature always demanded it’s due eventually, which was all well and good as far as Sinclair was concerned, tucking into a ball as she began her rapid descent to the outside of the ring. Fortunately for her, Fernandez was on hand to break her fall, the already battered Alejandra scraping herself off the floor just in time for one the cutest backsides in FAWN to SMACK her square in the face at a most unwelcome velocity.
Both competitors went to the concrete, albeit one in a far fouler mood than the other, and Sammie betrayed not an iota of discomfort following the high velocity collision, which was easier enough to do when you had the upper hand. Rolling with the collision, the Bright-Eyed Wonder vacated her unwilling crash pad and proceeded to fight her feet, rapidly arriving at the barricade separating her from the front row a little faster than she would have liked, hitting it at a slightly less than graceful stumble, to which she responded with an embarrassed bite of her bottom lip. The Legionnaires forgave her, several in the front row slapping her on her slender shoulders, Sinclair bobbing back and saluting her faithful followers, rewarded by a fresh pop of applause.
She needed this, after Iron’s equal need to make a statement at her expense, she needed to fly again.
“Come on, Alejandra,” Sammie nodded, as much to herself as anyone, turning about on the spot whilst trying to control her breathing, the match having taken much out of them both. She reached down to her painfully muttering opponent, tucking her hands beneath the shoulders of the heavier Lightweight, huffing just a little bit as she attempted to lift, carry and shuffle the ebony clad warrior back into the ring. “Let’s back to where we belong.”
Alejandra didn’t answer, not with a carefully chosen vocabulary at any rate, instead opting to say what she felt with a cry of frustration, Fernandez shouting herself hoarse as she surged into action. Caught wide eyed with surprise, Sammie opened her lips to voice her own astonishment, only there was no time to do so, instead the beloved Lightweight was SHOVED backwards several yards as though she was strapped to the front of a locomotive, and she instead released a high cry of pain as the small of her back was DRIVEN into the apron.
Sinclair bucked backwards into a painful arch as her neck became an equal victim of whiplash, the brunette of perfectly petite proportions caught between a rock and a hard place as her miniature mass struggled to process the flash of intense pain. For just a moment, her lithe legs gave out, the young woman weak at the knees as she almost fell to the floor, Alejandra there to keep her upright, albeit with ill and intentions.
The Legionnaires GASPED with concern as the ebony clad warrior snarled and shoved her right arm between the open thighs of her smaller opponent and wrapped the other across the girl’s unresponsive shoulders. With Sinclair too stunned to resist, the far stronger Fernandez was finally where she wanted to be as she hupped, heaved and all but hurled the unresisting, People’s Princess up and over in a wide arc, caught clearly on camera for those watching at home, before SLAMMING the young woman back first onto the barely padded concrete.
Sammie recoiled from the brutal impact with the pavement with an explosion of escaped air, before the entirety of her petite frame slumped into a pained puddle, her right leg popped up at the knee, one hand waving absently towards the rafters.
Fernandez wasn’t satisfied, not by a long shot, dropping down to one knee and grabbing her stunned opponent with a fistful of her proud curls. With her foes noggin raised ever so slightly and appropriately secure, Alejandra rained down not one, not two, but three viciously precise forearm smashes to the forehead of the Upstart Supreme, Sinclair responding with a short, sharp groan to each and every one, all sense of resistance beaten out of her both quickly and efficiently. Her pretty peepers remained half open, but no-one was home right now, the gold clad athlete staring blankly onto the masses before a satisfied Alejandra pushed the girls head back down against the cold concrete.
“That is where you belong,” Fernandez insisted, delivering a fourth forearm smash to the Upstart Supremes’ dazed noggin just so that there was no confusion. There was no love lost between the duo, not since the feud between Bad Reputation and the World’s Best Brits had failed to pay dividends for Alejandra’s upwards momentum, and her seeming inability to just put Sinclair down was a source of constant frustration.
All of that was over however, for while the World’s Best Brits had disbanded, the Leader of the Upstart Nation was still a scalp worth it’s weight in gold, and tonight she would finally collect. Seizing Sinclair’s curls with both her hands now, she fed off the protests of the FAWNatics as she draaaaaaaaged their insensible heroine back to her feet and all but tossed her back into the ring, rolling the rag doll body of her opponent beneath the bottom rope.
Fernandez allowed herself a moment to posture before the crowd, she’d earned it after all, making sure they understood just who was in charge before she set about climbing inside the ring herself, ducking between the top and middle ropes. She strutted to the centre, just where the perfectly petite Sinclair was obediently waiting for her demise, the young woman blinking rapidly and, with pained groans, was trying to get up, some part of the Babyface Brit demanding that she recover faster.
Alejandra would be impressed, if she didn’t hate the bitch so much. Instead she leaned forwards and reapplied her two fistfuls of the Upstart Supremes curls, yanking the lithe athlete to her feet.
“Stay close,” Fernandez warned the Official over her shoulder, “she’s about to be done.”
Sammie, however, had entirely different ideas, the shouts of the Legionnaire’s willing her on echoing about some instinctive corner of her noggin and compelling her into action. Responding with the tenacity of only the most Babyfaced of fighters, Sinclair lived up to her family’s name by crying out and pulling backwards hard enough to YANK her own hair free from her opponents grasp, several strands of her proud mane left clutched between Alejandra’s clenched fingers.
Next, she did what any high flyer did best, which was take to the air. Turning about ever so slightly, Sinclair flipped her delightful frame up and over, head over heels and all but into an impromptu handstand as she SLAMMED her right boot into the stunned temple of the flat-footed Fernandez, the Pele Kick landing with pin point precision.
As the Bright-Eyed Wonder continued to pivot and spin right back down onto her feet, Alejandra teetered on the spot as though she was unsure as to whether or not she was supposed to fall over. Much to the delight of the FAWNatics, she did preciously that, falling backwards to the canvas like a sack of potatoes where she lay staring upwards towards the rafters.
If she was being entirely honest, which she generally was, Sammie would later admit that she wasn’t entirely certain just who was still driving when she immediately set off at a sprint, the spritely lass leaping at the last moment to meet the waiting coils. She connected with the middle rope feet first and, after the suddenly taunt spring snapped back into shape, the young woman was positively LAUNCHED into the air, much to the appreciation of those watching, Sinclair turning her gorgeously sculptured physique in a hypnotic arc that turned her about to SPLASH the splayed-out Alejandra belly to belly!
SAMMIE SAULT
www.youtube.com/watch?v=-OScYCZi-KA
While Sammie would be feeling the sting of her own, bare tummy for hours to come, it was Fernandez who was forced to buck about the lithe frame of Sinclair, her shoulders and legs kicking off the canvas as she GASPED for air. She slumped back to the mat as the Brit of Perfectly Petite Proportions was all but propelled back up to her feet by the force of the impact, finding verticality with a short stumble and a deep, if somewhat pained exhale of air as she pointed directly towards the nearest corner. The Loyalist’s in attendance responded with a hearty cheer and Sinclair, brain finally catching up with her autopilot, realised that she had no choice but to carry through.
Fortunately, she had a predication towards getting carried away.
After checking to make sure Fernandez at least looked like to she was going to be stay where Sammie had left her, the Upstart Supreme set off for her promised destination and, with a hop, skip and jump, deftly elevated her athletic physique up and onto the top turnbuckle. She stood there, as high as one could get within the squared circle, dexterously balanced with her feet braced upon the uppermost ropes, the People’s Princess raising both of her hands up high and facing the FAWNatics, welcoming their devotion with a weary, heart-warming smile.
She wiggled her fingers in expectation and they answered, bringing their hands together at her prompting to join her in her personal mantra. She brought her palms together to clap…
ONCE!
TWICE!!
THRICE!!!
…The Upstart Nation call to war and, as the anticipation reached its apex, Samantha LAUNCHED her delightful mass backwards into not one, but two full rotations before SLAMMING down HARD across the unfortunate Fernandez for devastating, high flying splash, the Sinclair Summer Slam!!
SINCLAIR SUMMER SLAM
www.youtube.com/watch?v=yk7UuDvp0mI
Alejandra convulsed, gagged and then collapsed beneath the collision that had both won and retained Titles, her body emptying of air as her powerful body shuddered into an insensible heap. There she remained, as Sammie managed to prevent herself from simply rebounding right back off her opponent, dropping as quickly as she could to collect a leg and allow the Official to drop and begin his count…
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!
The stadium erupted and Sinclair was up on her knees in an instant, feeling no great need to grandstand over a defeated opponent as she leaned her own head back in relief. It took her a little longer to find her feet, weary from button nose and tippy toe, more than happy to let the Official raise her right hand in victory as she smiled back at her Legionnaires.
Her back was feeling in need of repair and she could sleep for the next week, but for now she felt lighter than air, which was a feeling that she was going to need for when she next ran into Irons…