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 Posted: Fri Jul 24, 2015 9:43 am
"The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and is a semi-final round in the Seasons Championship Tournament! The winner of this contest will move on to the final round of the tournament! Introducing first..."
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Posted: Fri Jul 24, 2015 10:15 am
The Arena went quiet, emotions would be spread throughout the arena from the various people in attendance, as they were waiting and holding their signs up waiting for there favorite wrestlers to come out. As the crowd was being impatient; Heart of Courage by Two Steps from Hell would hit the PA system. Getting a reaction
The fans would look at the entrance ramp as well as listen to the theme of Trent as they would express there opinions which mainly would be boo's, although from certain parts of the arena would be cheers or boo's for the other competitor he would be facing. Trent would come out with a smirk on his face, the fans would be on there feet expecting a great match whether they liked or disliked the man making his entrance at this time, seeing as he had made history various times as well as, participated in great matches. Trent would walk on the stage with a confident grin smeared on his face. He would have walked to the left side and looked in the crowd than the right side of the stage, and have a devious smile. Trent than began walk to the middle of the stage and raise both arms in the styling that looked like a cross as pyrotechnics spewed out from both left and right sides of the stage. Trent would stay in that position for a few seconds as he progressively lower his hands as the pyrotechnics would stop as the crowd would love it. Trent would than take a stroll down the ramp taking his time and eating up the emotions of the crowd.
Announcer: Introducing at this time. From St Paul Minnesota, weighing in tonight at 216 Pounds, TRENT!
Trent kept a straight face as he stopped, not even midway of the ramp as he would look around the arena at the screaming fans. Trent would be wearing the original look. He wore a robe down. Almost everything being blocked except for the black goth pants, and some boots. He looked with a grimace towards the fans, being annoyed by each and every one of those hypocritical pieces of s**t, that they knew they were.
Trent once again continued walking. He made a left turn and got on the stairs climb on step by step, and walked on the apron. Trent would turn around and look at the crowd behind him, looking at the fan signs and the people booing at his presence. Trent for a feint moment, changed that grimace into a smile , as Trent turned around and jumped on top of the turnbuckle. Trent would look around and see the thousands in attendance seeing them mainly booing at him. Trent however, was loving the response to the feedback he had been receiving from the people in attendance. Trent looking as confident as ever, entering the match here tonight.
Trent took his robe off and placed it to the outside, after doing so Trent climbed onto the apron and entered the ring, following he would enter the corner and waiting
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Posted: Sat Jul 25, 2015 1:38 pm
The lights dim, fading to blackness. On the titantron, an image of the galaxy is displayed, with thousands of stars swirling through the cosmos. A feint music begins to play, a solemn song to match the final frontier. After a few seconds, something begins to come into view - a hulking metal monstrosity, somehow bulky and sleek. A true ship of the stars. Along the side is a name: "MARINER." The grandest ship in all the skies. Inside the ship, a skeleton crew scurries to their positions. Hundreds of screens, filled with miles of code, numbers and letters which mean nothing to the unlearned, adorn the walls of the ship, failing to hide the cold military grey of the walls. Despite the hubbub, a clear voice booms out over the dry mumbling of the marines: "Launch Sequence Initiated. Launch in five..."
A single pod emerges from the front of the ship, propelled by a burst of flame. It hurriedly speeds towards a nearby planet. A small, pale blue dot. "BREAKING ATMO. GET READY."
Back in the arena, all power seems to cut off. Sparks fly from the sides of the titantron, seeming to signal something. Before anybody knows what is happening, something falls from the ceiling, landing with a hard thud. The lights slowly turn back on, revealing what it was: the pod from the ship has landed. And it landed in BBW! Smoke slowly begins to rise, shrouding the ground. Suddenly, the curtains are pulled apart, as no less than nine men pour out of the backstage area, surrounding the pod, as if to guard it. They are wearing helmets, and what appears to be some sort of high-tech SWAT uniform, in a dark shade of grey - the kind of uniform you see in science fiction. On their arm was a badge, a symbol of their allegiance; these were space marines, men of the Galactic Dogs! Armed to the teeth with laser rifles and an assortment of other weapons, they stood ready to defend, aiming their shooters at the crowd. The door of the pod slowly opened, more smoke pouring out. After agonising seconds, a tall, strong-looking man emerges, dressed in a distinct manner; gone are the dark colours of the marines, in their place a less palatable, but more distinct array of earthly colours, topped by a distinct brown coat. The Galactic Dogs turn to him, standing to attention, and salute. This was the leader of their troupe. This was Commander Rhorus! He stepped down from his pod, arms behind his back, before coming to attention. He saluted, his gaze fixed on the ring. He broke his salute, marching down the ramp. His marines, in formation, followed. They all stepped in time as they walked. Upon reaching the ring, the formation split, and the marines surrounded it, armed and alert. The good captain headed to the steel steps, up to the ring apron, where he wiped his feet before entering the ring. He was, after all, a classy sort of gent, who did not wish to tread space dust all over people's property. He walked to the middle of the ring, offering a salute to the audience, his hard stare still piercing those before him. He dropped the salute once more, turning to face Trent, staring him down. He continued to stare as he removed his coat, throwing it to one of his men outside the ring.
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Posted: Sat Jul 25, 2015 5:09 pm
It seems Trent has it for himself currently. Facing someone only an inch taller who weighs another whopping 44 pounds or so. Sadly enough for the Commander, that doesn't phase Trent who has fought men, monsters much larger than both men combined.
The official approached Trent, immediately asking the question that should have been obvious.
"Are you ready to compete?"
Trent would roll his eyes and not mutter a word, only rolling his eyes to study his slightly larger opponent. Of course, Trent was ready to kick someone's teeth down their throat. Just like he did to Tim last week who was overconfident, thinking he could pull another win out of a hat.
Unfortunately for Tim, he fell short, and unfortunately for our Mariner here, he will be falling short and will be sinking fast. The official would either approach the fellow marine commander or ring the bell, it didn't matter what he did, seeing Trent's interest lied in the actions he will take to beat this man down in front of all of his service men who surrounded the ring.
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Posted: Sat Jul 25, 2015 7:09 pm
Trent was not intimidated by Rhorus, as was obvious by his body language when the referee approached him. However, the feeling was very much mutual. Trent might be bigger than the last man Rhorus faced, but he still came up short. Hell, his first opponent in this tournament was a whale, for pity's sake.
The Commander leaned back into his corner, a smirk on his face as the official walked towards him to ask the same question he did the opponent. He chuckled, pushing out of his lean, standing tall. If Trent wasn't intimidated by him, maybe the numbers game might sway his nerves?
As the referee signalled for the bell, Rhorus shouted to his men, who had surrounded the ring, taking steps forward towards the ring center as he did so.
"DOGS! SOUND OFF!"
The wailing and stamping of angry marines drowned out the brass echo of the bell, the match beginning on a louder note than most.
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Posted: Sat Jul 25, 2015 10:08 pm
"Jesus Christ..."
Trent muttered those two words under his breath when the men outside of the ring would yell out randomly after Rhorus' command was made. I guess they were dogs, but not the dogs they take themselves for, just noisy mutts who should know their place.
Despite that, the bell would ring leaving the two opponent's inside the ring to fight. Trent got away from his corner, fearing slightly that one of the mangling mutts would grab his foot like a scene from a bad horror movie, or, countless bad horror movies.
Immediately after changing his feet positioning and getting more comfortable with himself, he would continue to analyze his opponent. He was loud, brave, probably very prideful. If that were the case, that's the target of assault, a man's pride, a group's pride. The perfect key of attack.
Trent would await to see how the Commander would act before taking any course of action. He would shift his eyes once in awhile if he heard any movement besides the two who were inside the ring.
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Posted: Mon Jul 27, 2015 1:17 pm
If the men hadn't put a fear into Trent, they'd certainly caused a certain amount of caution. He scampered from the ringside like a cat, running from Rhorus' Dogs. This did nothing but sharpen the commander's grin. Nevertheless, it also displayed a certain amount of strategy that he hadn't quite expected from his opponent. He was right - for now at least - that the Galactic Dogs couldn't reach him if he stayed inland, away from grasping hands.
His assessment on Rhorus was accurate, if a little basic. Pride was as much Rhorus' sin as any man's, and he didn't shy away from his own. However, his pride was sourced from his unit; sin tempered with faith, a faith that went both ways. Faith based in the skill of the brothers.
Observation, of course, is one of the obvious skills of a space commander. So it should come as no surprise that Rhorus' picked up on Trent's Dog-born hesitation. When his eyes shifted away, Rhorus charged him, trying to force him into a lock-up, and push him into the corner. A simple display of strength, with just a hint of cunning.
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Posted: Mon Jul 27, 2015 2:36 pm
Trent was a ring general in his own right, however, no matter how great your ring awareness is, the numbers game is a game that Trent does not favor in, which makes him as weak as anyone else.
The Commander rushed in when Trent's eyes met with the eyes of his men, taking that as his chance to rush in, and he got what he wanted. Trent took a glance back at his opponent who was rushing in, barely able to bring his hands up into the path of his opponent.
Due to the fact he didn't have time to dodge the oncoming dog, he would be forced into the corner with his hands in the face of the Commander. Usually, in a match with disqualification, the count would start. This was a no-disqualification match though, and no count would be made.
In Trent's uncomfortable position, he would begin to press his arms farther into the face of the space marine, in hopes of getting him off. However, he is in a complicated spot. He has barely any protection from an assault by his opponent. This was a bad start for Trent, who has never faced a predicament like this.
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Posted: Tue Jul 28, 2015 4:32 pm
Rhorus' gambit paid off. It was early, but an early advantage is the sort that can propel you to a victory. Rhorus pushed as Trent was in the corner, his face being punished as the opponent tried to fight his way back away from the turnbuckle.
Of course, Trent being in the corner meant that he was by the sides of the ring, exactly where he didn't want to be... and for good reason. While he was in the corner, the Galactic Dogs flocked to it. Rhorus himself would back away, but two of his men would reach under the bottom ropes, trying to grab Trent's ankles! Despicable tactics, but Rhorus was playing the numbers game.
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Posted: Tue Jul 28, 2015 11:07 pm
Despite the fight that Trent put up in hopes of getting away from a corner, especially, a corner that was now occupied by the enemies' "dogs", he would fail in the long run. Rhorus backed off, but the very worst that came to his mind was slowly beginning to happen.
He felt the tugging on each of his leg's from the mutts who resided outside the ring. Usually it was Trent who was dirty and underhanded, but in this situation, he has been outplayed. He has no numbers gain, size advantage, he seems to be screwed completely.
The two would use all of their strength to keep each leg down at the same time, a combined effort of two men who have worked together before to do things harder, in their perspective, then hold a person of 200 pounds into place. Despite the two men though, Trent looked to overpower both of them by pulling his legs together. Of course it didn't help, but he was between a rock and a hard place. He had to try something besides sit there and wait for Rhorus or the others to pick him apart like a piece of meat.
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Posted: Wed Jul 29, 2015 2:00 pm
Rhorus pulled away as the Dogs moved in to help him out. They grabbed at Trent's legs, managing a brief distraction as he pulled his legs together, trying to avoid their clutches, to a degree of success. A fair move, strategically. Trent didn't want to be stuck in place, after all.
However, there were more than dogs in play, and Rhorus intended to claw at the prey of the pack. While Trent was busy dealing with the outside interference, Rhorus would rush back into the corner, aiming a knee at his opponent's gut while his attention was elsewhere.
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Posted: Wed Jul 29, 2015 2:10 pm
He finally pulled his legs together that they couldn't fully grasp his legs anymore. Bring his feet as close together as possible and slowly, the hold that was made was broken.
Despite the effort he put into getting out of one situation, he found himself in another as his stomach was impaled by a hard running knee that would bring the Anti-Christ to both of his knees. a** up, and face down into the mat as a painful sensation filled his stomach.
Rhorus knows well that he has an advantage in numbers and he is using that advantage to get an early lead in this match.
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Posted: Thu Jul 30, 2015 11:48 pm
Rhorus' attack was a... roaring success (please, hold the applause). As Trent went down, Rhorus backed up once more. He would wait a short moment, for Trent to lift his head off of the ground. As soon as he did, he would dash forward a short distance, aiming a running boot at his skull. Rhorus and the Dogs were playing a brutal game early in this match, and Trent was the unlucky guy on the receiving end of the punishment.
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Posted: Fri Jul 31, 2015 5:25 pm
Trent doesn't know much about having a roaring success, at the very least, not in this match. But he will know about soaring, because once the boot connected he would end up soaring out of the ring in front of the Dogs who previously clung onto his legs.
This of course was the last place he wanted to be, but seeing as his face had an engraving of a boot across it due to Commander Bhorusall, he didn't have much control over where his body was and who it was near.
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Posted: Sat Aug 01, 2015 3:11 am
Rhorus leaned on the top rope, looking casual as ********. With a grin and a cheeky wink, he barked an order to his dogs, who had rapidly began to gather around their commander's opponent.
"Rip him to pieces, boys!"
On command, the dogs would begin to kick and stomp Trent, all while Rhorus watched, catching his breath. Delegation of tasks, see. It's both a quality and a perk of leadership. Having an army really can help you out, and a no disqualification rule does tend to help things along...
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