Strife Showdown - Vlad v Scar

[Scar]

The scene is set backstage in the gymnasium, activity this week has diminished substantially due to internal problems and the match card is seriously lacking. A short distance away, an excited voice can be heard speaking to a tune, with the light thud of boots hitting the cement. "Four in a row! Four in a row! Hidey ho we got four in a row!" "Calm down Matt." "BUT FOUR! FOUR I SAY! FOUR! In a god damn row! Haha that's amazing for our first professional gig! We've been main-eventing man! It's our damn time!" "Alright guys we need to prepare, remember, calm, focused. We can take Scally, we beat him in the Pit plenty of times. But Magnus Gunner, he's a very good wr.." "Are you fucking kidding me? I came to wrestle not talk tactics.." "Matt, we need this. If you guys go out there separately, shit won't work. Magnus is a smart wrestler, probably the best we've faced so far."

Footsteps can be heard making their way towards Scar and he turns immediately, his face plastered with the stare of a maniac. But as the masked marauder realises who it is, his expression changes instantaneously, a face as if he's suddenly become focused and committed. "Oh I wouldn't worry too much about Magnus. You won't have to face him for awhile. You see I pulled some strings, you were getting too fucking cocky. You think four fucking wins is enough to warrant boasting? Do you fucking know who I am? I organised something tonight, you aren't in the Main Event anymore, now you're facing up against me in a strife showdown match! This means you pick the match motherfucker and I will show you what it's like to face the fucking god-king." Vlad doesn't even wait for a response and turns, walking away with his head up high, surprisingly not weighed down by his immense ego.

"Well that's just fucking wonderful!" "The God-King?" "Fuck.." "Alright guys, time to nail the fuck down, this is.." "Do you not get the fucking picture? We don't give a shit, we fight, that's our job. It's what we do. We don't need to fucking plan this out and analyse him. Sit back, relax and let us do the work you fucking queer." Scar slaps himself violently and grunts loudly, banging his head against the wall with gritted teeth and cursing under his breath.

~Later that night~

The crowd aren't as riled up as they have been previous nights and the attendance seems to be lower by a considerable amount, but noise is still emanating throughout and as Scar's tune, sung by Megadeath in the form of Sweating Bullets, hit's the sound system, an immediate reaction of booing becomes the dominant force, threatening to overtake the song. Unlike the previous week, Scar comes out with a bang, literally. Firecrackers begin to crackle on the ground and two fiery pyros shoot up a few metres off of the ground as the psychopath jumps through the curtain, his mask hiding the distortions upon his face. Dressed in his trench coat with his fedora tipped to the ground he begins jogging towards the ring, but as he reaches the ring, he remains outside, leaning against the barricade between the ring and the fans, whispering to a security guard nearby who quickly leaves.

"The following match is scheduled for.. Uh." Lizzie is at a loss and makes a gesture towards Scar, hoping for him to answer, but she is left with nothing and continues on with her announcement, "The following match is a Strife Showdown, Scar can pick any stipulations he wants for this match, introducing first, hailing from Austin, Texas, weighing in at 252 lbs and at a height of 6'5". He is THE MASKED MARAUDER! SCAR!"

OOC: After you post your entrance and/or promo, I'll give a quick mention of what the match is to be and include a match post. Don't want to ruin the surprise

[Vladimir Strife]

Bringing the microphone back up to mouth level, Lizzie resumes her duties while Scar stretches and prepares himself outside of the ring.

"And his opponent... standing at 6 feet tall and weighing in at 234 pounds... hailing from Sighisoara, Romania.... the GodKing... VLADIMIRRRRRR STRRRRRIFE!"

Music begins to pour out through the P.A. system, getting the fans pumped up for the fight they are about to bare witness to.



"FUCKING EVIIIIIILLLLL"

With that as his cue, the Barbarian Lord whips the curtain in front of the entrance out of his way, stepping out onto the main stage to a round of cheers. He peers about the arena, taking in all of the pandemonium before finally settling his sights upon tonight's challenger. Once there, his gaze remains locked, the Hardcore King not lowering his gaze as he begins his small trek down the ramp and toward the ring, holding his arms out to tag the hands of his eager front row fans. Arriving at the squared circle, the Titan slides in under the bottom rope, quickly rising back to his feet and running against the ropes, hitting them time and time again to limber himself up for whatever style of combat his opponent has in store for him tonight.

Ray: My Vladdy is looking in tip top shape tonight, Jimmy. I think this may be a decision that Scar ends up regretting!
JP: Well, he certainly looks ready for a fight, but Scar does too. All I know is that both of these men seem determined and that's always a recipe for a good match.


TBCB Scar

[Scar]

As Vlad bounces from rope to rope, Scar stands completely still, eying him off, watching his movements and foot work. Vlad is becoming impatient, tired of Scar's antics, but continuing to bounce off of the ropes. Minutes pass and Scar makes no intention of moving, as Vlad is about to confront him, the security guard begins walking down to Scar, holding two cartons of what one would guess to be gasoline, judging by the odor emanating from them. The God-King has an idea of what this match type is to be as he looks on impatiently. Scar just smiles, taking his time. The Texan grabs one of the cartons and orders the security guard to start emptying it around the ring. Scar does so too, in the opposite direction. Eventually the cartons are emptied and have encircled the entire ring, the smell of gasoline is heavy and intoxicating, but it doesn't last long as the smell is replaced by that of burning, Scar whips out a match, lighting it quickly and dropping it onto the gas. The psychopath climbs into the ring as the inferno lights up like a Mexican wave. Scar grins at Vlad, who stands motionless, not caring about the fire encircling them. No announcement is needed and Scar and Vlad begin to circle the ring, their eyes locked on one another.

"An.. Inferno match?"

"Why does nobody ever pick a tuxedo match.."

The Crimson Devil is eager as always and practically leaps at Vlad who sidesteps effortlessly as the giant flies straight past him, stumbling. Vlad positions himself behind the unbalanced Scar and raises his boot, kicking the psychopath in the rear as if he were kicking down a door. Scar falls forwards and goes through the ropes, falling out of the ring. The Behemoth isn't amused and shouts at the inexperienced wrestler to get back in the ring, clearly frustrated. Scar just grins, he'd dreamed about facing Vladimir Strife and to face him this early in his career was a real accomplishment for him, especially to see where he was at as a wrestler. Scar steps back into the ring and stomps his boot down, attempting to trick Vlad. Vlad doesn't flinch and keeps his eyes on his opponent. Scar goes in again, taking a heavy step, Vlad still doesn't react and so Scar begins to laugh, relaxing his body. Scar leans back against the ropes and gestures to Vlad to come and get him. Vlad's previous frustration was miniscule compared to the emotions Vlad is displaying at the moment. The Barbarian Lord dives forward, his feet moving fast, Scar is confused by the way Vlad is moving and as he tries to move out of the way, Vlad dives forward with his arm outstretched, connecting with Scar's neck and sending him over the rope, the giant landing heavily on the cold, hard floor.

"I love it when a man toys with another man."

"Scar is just no match for the God-King, but then again, is anyone?"

Scar grunts furiously, clearly annoyed at Vlad toying with him so easily. The Texan Psychopath tenses up in annoyance as he climbs back into the ring, in the process Vlad doesn't even face Scar, looking out to the crowd as he raises his arms and riles them up. Scar takes this as an opportunity and charges forward, attempting to spear Vlad. But the God-King is prepared and turns at the last moment, planting his feet. Scar connects but Vlad was prepared and wraps his arms around Scar's neck, using his own strength and the momentum provided by the inexperienced contestant, Vlad falls backwards, driving the thick skull of Scar right into the mat as he quickly makes it to his feet as Scar lays on the ground, beginning to roll over.

"Now this is just becoming pathetic. Scar isn't even putting up a fight."

"Please.. He's fighting against Vlad! It's what he gets for running his mouth. He wouldn't be in this situation if he kept it shut.. Or.. Filled it with something."

"You fucking fag Ray."

The crowd are cheering frantically for Vlad and booing Scar as the inferno goes on. The heat resonating from the makeshift barrier of fire is making the wrestlers inside sweat. Scar is affected more, with his latex mask covering his face, absorbing a lot of the heat. Scar tries to make it to his feet but Vlad doesn't allow it, stomping down on Scar's chest with brutal force. Scar writhes in pain as Vlad continue pumping his foot down onto Scar, after five straight drives Vlad grabs onto the ropes and uses them for a bit of support as he digs his boot into Scar's throat, choking him as the ref tries lecturing Vlad and begins a count. Vlad lets go eventually and sends his laces ruthlessly into Scar's ribs. Scar rolls to the side and clutches his side as Vlad falls back and leans against the ropes.

"How is this even a fair fight? The amazing God-King against this psychotic hunk.

"It's not. This match is an annihilation, Vlad isn't going to beat Scar tonight, he's going to destroy him."

As Vlad waits impatiently, Scar takes this time to recuperate and repay the oxygen he has lost from being chocked and kicked in the ribs. Scar raises himself to an all fours position and uses the turnbuckle to bring himself to a standing position. Half expecting an attack from Vlad, Scar turns around groggily to see him still leaning against the ropes with a nonchalant look on his face. Scar decides it's time to use his strength and size to his advantage, playing to his advantages will be the only way to win this match or even put up a fight, in terms of a fair fight and experience, Vlad wins hands down. So Scar begins advancing slowly on the man and as he gets closer he breaks into a charge, Vlad just moans in frustration and anger as he steps fluidly to the side, Scar flies over the ropes but picks up quickly and latches onto them, spinning himself around rather swiftly for his size, extending his trunk sized arms and grabbing Vlad around the throat, locking him in a sleeper hold. Scar maneuvers his arms around Vlad's neck, maintaining a firm grip. Vlad doesn't seem to be fighting it and the giant lifts Vlad up, holding him above him. Scar can anticipate this will hurt for both of them but deems the risk is worth the reward and begins to fall backwards, prepared to slam both of them into the ground, hopefully putting Vlad partially into the flames. The Hardcore King pulls off what can only be described as poetry in motion, shifting his body weight to land on his feet, his knees buckle under Scar but as he pushes off of the ground he has just enough strength in him to grab onto Scar's shoulders and push him down into the ground. Vlad falls back onto his rear and leans up against the ring as Scar remains motionless on the floor, inches away from the flames.

"Now that was damn impressive. I'm still in awe about how that was performed."

"How was it performed? Simple. It's Vlad. He is a god incarnate!"

"I suppose he'd have to be, what we just witnessed was impossible for any man.."

[Vladimir Strife]

The Concord crowd praises the GodKing with another round of cheers, but the famed Titan ignores their gestures of approval, his mind focused on the Psychotic Giant before him. Pressing back up to his feet, the Vladimir takes Scar by that hair, dragging him along for the ascension before taking him by the back of the belt as well and directing him under the bottom rope and back into the squared circle. He takes his time in following after, opting to take the steel stairs up and pacing the outskirts of the ring to give his opponent some time to recuperate in an attempt to restore some interest and any sort of semblance of equality to their bout. Strife had, as usual, anticipated a victory at the conclusion of the match, but the battle to there had never seemed so effortless before. As he slips in between the top two ropes and into the ring, his eyes remain locked on the Texan Psychopath, who suddenly sits up straight. The King eyes him with curiosity, the younger stars demeanor having changed and his body language giving off a different vibe.

JP: Vladimir had better be careful here. Scar looks a bit strange and you never know what side of that man you're getting.
Ray: Are you kidding? Vlad is dominating him and he will dominate any and all sides that Scar has to offer!

Closing the distance cautiously, Vladimir aims a small kick at the head of the Crimson Devil, the gesture more insulting than harmful. Scar's head rattles lightly, a cocky smirk growing across the mouth of his assaulter. The GodKing leans down and takes a handful of hair, looking to rein the Southerner back to a vertical base yet again. Caught offguard by the lack of resistance he's encountered so far tonight, the Barbarian Lord catches an unexpected and fierce uppercut across the jaw, causing him to relinquish the follicles in his grasp and stumble back into the ropes. He throws an arm over the top rope, catching himself to keep from falling down. While he's trying to recover, Scar rises up, towering over the slouching Behemoth as he moves in toward him ominously. Never one to back down, the two-time Imperial Champion peels himself away from the side of the ring as he steps in closer and throws a heavy haymaker into the cheek of his nemesis. The Texan Psychopath retreats a pace, consoling the left side of his face before responding with a sudden and high boot to the chin that flings Vladimir back into the cables and nearly sends him pouring over the top. The Romanian wraps his arms around them quickly, desperately holding on to keep from falling out of the ring and close to the flames. He finally plants his knees into the edge of the ring, giving himself the ability to untangle himself and grab the middle rope long enough to straighten himself out. As his head pokes back up over the top cable, the mighty paw of Scar darts out and latches onto his throat, the force intense enough that only his grip saves the European from being shoves off of the apron. The Masked Marauder reaches in over the rope with his other hand and braces the back of his captured foe before pulling him up and over with one mighty heave and plunging him down to the canvas back-first.

JP: CHOKESLAM! That rattled the ring!
Ray: Nooo, my poor Vladdy!!

Vladimir is laid out, flat on his back against the canvas for the first time in a very long time, his half open eyes gazing at the incredibly blurry ceiling of the stadium. His vision soon becomes obscured by the silhouette of his enormous enemy, who bends down and grabs a fistful of the cloth covering the King's torso, using it to leverage the Romanian back to his feet. Once there, the Czar of Scars finds himself scooped up with his solar plexus against the shoulder of the 6'5" Disassociative Demon, as if he were going to burp the legend. Just as he is remembering where he is, Strife is compacted against the shoulder, the mighty arms of Scar wrapped tightly about his midsection and squeezing down upon him. The Impaler begins to scream out in pain, squirming and struggling to try to fight his way out of the hold. The Crimson Devil keeps him locked in tight though, parading his catch around the ring for the whole world to see as Vlad begins to wear down from the pressure. As he's near giving up, the Barbarian Lord finally feels some slack in the hold, Scar letting up momentarily. Before he can take advantage of this, however, the Texan Psychopath slams his arms back down tightly across the lumbar of the Behemoth, thrusting his gut against him and driving the wind from his lungs. The lock grows tighter again, adding grunts of agony to his helpless gasps for breath.

Putting all of his strength into the bearhug, Scar is begin to fade as well and finally resolves to place the brutalized Strife back down at last. The relief is only temporary for the GodKing, however, as his tormentor quickly tucks Vlad's head under his bicep and wraps his arm around his neck. He pulls the Titan's arm over his own neck thereafter, before taking him by one knee and lifting him into the air, flipping him upside down and into prime position to taste the Psychotic Rage. Before he can be sent crashing down upon his crown, however, the Titan sharply tucks his free leg in towards himself, slamming his kneecap into the top of Scar's skull with a resounding impact. The Multi-minded Maniac immediately stumbles, dropping the Behemoth down onto his shins and forearms before staggering about drunkenly. Quick to take advantage of the opening he's created, Strife pushes against the canvas and rolls over the toes of his feet, planting the balls of them down before pushing himself up and forward, launching himself toward the Southerner while drawing back his fist. Once in close, he springs forward with the shot, knuckles drilling down across the cheek of the Psychotic Giant and sending him into the turnbuckles. Scar's legs go out from under him and he drops down onto his bottom, sprawling out in the corner as Vladimir is treated to a joyous response by the audience.

JP: And moves like that are precisely why Vladimir has had such a long and successful career. The things this man can pull out to counter or turn the tides in his favor is just seemingly endless.

((was going to add in more, but it took over 7 hours to get all this in thanks to the cunts-tomers))