Seven of Clubs.
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Now that she took care of the issue of the potential slithering escape of the snakes, Shen Li Fang realized that this wall became pretty popular in a rather quick manner. First came the doodler, then came the servant? Blinking twice the girl pondered about whether staying at this wall would be the most sound decision to make. This decision came easily as Miss Fang heard that the headmaster made some declaration regarding doing these ceremonies on a train.
Craning her head back and forth Shen looked for this alleged train. With a slow and methodical precision Li placed her left hand over her eyes, squinted and began looking in several directions for this train. However the searching from that bared little fruit. And, unfortunately, once again in her luggage the sacrificial ingredients began to try to off themselves earlier. A frown was forming on Shen Li Fang's face as she once again opened the bag in order to quell this activity.
And that's when a few small little fairies with cheerful dispositions came flying around Shen Li's head. Their translucent wings and high pitched giggling as they tried to poke at her hair struck a certain nerve with Shen Li Fang. Carefully Fang began waving her left hand around in an attempt to swat these magical gnats away.
These creatures were simply nuisances, humanoid bugs that wanted to bond with you. There was no point in bonding with a mere bug; Li Fang was from the Shen Clan.
And if she formed a contract with these pitiful creatures, she would bring great dishonor to the Clan's name.
Though perhaps they would be useful as a sacrifice to be slaughtered by the centipedes. Shen Li Fang briefly thought about that before the fairies again began giggling and buzzing all around her. Shen Li blinked as she kept a plain face about her, but briefly glared at them. Once again she raised her hand and was about to swat, before a hissing snake head popped up and spooked off a few of those insects.
One of them was laughing at the hissing serpent; Shen Li Fang focused her attention not on the last of these fairies but instead upon the snake which once again tried to escape her grasp. With an intense focus, Shen Li Fang held her hands high above her luggage and...
...The train came with such an intense speed it send the last pixie far into the night until it was left twinkling. And as for the sorceress, well in training, Shen she was also sent flying backwards as she stumbled down into some dirt which stained her outfit, and got caught on her legs. With a small frown Fang began to brush off her legs of this mess, while all the while a sneaky snake began to slither away.
Spying this traitorous behavior, Shen Li swiftly swiped at the serpent and plucked it up. The snake was writing wildly and hissing in anger; this behavior did not inspire Shen Li Fang to release the creature. So she simply returned it back into the luggage before zipping it up once again and going onto the train.
Craning her head back and forth Shen looked for this alleged train. With a slow and methodical precision Li placed her left hand over her eyes, squinted and began looking in several directions for this train. However the searching from that bared little fruit. And, unfortunately, once again in her luggage the sacrificial ingredients began to try to off themselves earlier. A frown was forming on Shen Li Fang's face as she once again opened the bag in order to quell this activity.
And that's when a few small little fairies with cheerful dispositions came flying around Shen Li's head. Their translucent wings and high pitched giggling as they tried to poke at her hair struck a certain nerve with Shen Li Fang. Carefully Fang began waving her left hand around in an attempt to swat these magical gnats away.
These creatures were simply nuisances, humanoid bugs that wanted to bond with you. There was no point in bonding with a mere bug; Li Fang was from the Shen Clan.
And if she formed a contract with these pitiful creatures, she would bring great dishonor to the Clan's name.
Though perhaps they would be useful as a sacrifice to be slaughtered by the centipedes. Shen Li Fang briefly thought about that before the fairies again began giggling and buzzing all around her. Shen Li blinked as she kept a plain face about her, but briefly glared at them. Once again she raised her hand and was about to swat, before a hissing snake head popped up and spooked off a few of those insects.
One of them was laughing at the hissing serpent; Shen Li Fang focused her attention not on the last of these fairies but instead upon the snake which once again tried to escape her grasp. With an intense focus, Shen Li Fang held her hands high above her luggage and...
...The train came with such an intense speed it send the last pixie far into the night until it was left twinkling. And as for the sorceress, well in training, Shen she was also sent flying backwards as she stumbled down into some dirt which stained her outfit, and got caught on her legs. With a small frown Fang began to brush off her legs of this mess, while all the while a sneaky snake began to slither away.
Spying this traitorous behavior, Shen Li swiftly swiped at the serpent and plucked it up. The snake was writing wildly and hissing in anger; this behavior did not inspire Shen Li Fang to release the creature. So she simply returned it back into the luggage before zipping it up once again and going onto the train.
Much like, well most everyone who had arrived to this school it was done via a spectacle of a light show. Of course the teleportation glyph's luminous display quickly disappeared as Shen Li Fang slithered off the glyph and took a brief glance at the scenery around her. Of course the night time environment did not provide a good opportunity to see that. At least sightseeing wouldn't be too important yet, obviously there was at least a small mass heading towards the same area for the same purpose. It just made sense.
However in the back of her mind, Fang was debating why she chose the shorter cheongsam which exposed her legs to the elements. Her lips curled to the side as she let go of two rolling suitcases to brush at her legs in an attempt for a bit of warmth. But that action was stopped as there was some hissing and clattering occurring in the right suitcase. Grimacing as she knew the snakes got out of the bag and needed to be returned to the bag Li reclaimed both of her suitcases and began to make her way in a direction where hopefully no one else could bother her too much as she wrangled the snakes.
And as she made her in that direction she soon began to realize that, she did not pick the 'wall of solitude.' Or perhaps she did and it was the "brooding hour" as one of her many brothers, Shen Ah Bai, had taught her about. Fang did as her brother told her to do when encountering a potential brooder, Li Fang nodded at Hilda's direction while not trying to make eye contact or communicate vocally as to not enrage them.
Of course the hissing and continued cluttering from the briefcase did not help her matter. Shen Li Fang simply glanced at Hilda and smiled a bit as she intended to discretely open her bag in order to rearrange the snakes.
@Jay Kalton
However in the back of her mind, Fang was debating why she chose the shorter cheongsam which exposed her legs to the elements. Her lips curled to the side as she let go of two rolling suitcases to brush at her legs in an attempt for a bit of warmth. But that action was stopped as there was some hissing and clattering occurring in the right suitcase. Grimacing as she knew the snakes got out of the bag and needed to be returned to the bag Li reclaimed both of her suitcases and began to make her way in a direction where hopefully no one else could bother her too much as she wrangled the snakes.
And as she made her in that direction she soon began to realize that, she did not pick the 'wall of solitude.' Or perhaps she did and it was the "brooding hour" as one of her many brothers, Shen Ah Bai, had taught her about. Fang did as her brother told her to do when encountering a potential brooder, Li Fang nodded at Hilda's direction while not trying to make eye contact or communicate vocally as to not enrage them.
Of course the hissing and continued cluttering from the briefcase did not help her matter. Shen Li Fang simply glanced at Hilda and smiled a bit as she intended to discretely open her bag in order to rearrange the snakes.
@Jay Kalton
[@Blackstipe] Hey uh, just a quick question. Did you approve @L4dyH4wke or something since I haven't seen anything noting that they've been approved yet their character sheet is in the CS section?
Also I don't see anything regarding the statuses of characters of @Zero Hex or @Moonman respectively. Are they also able to toss in their character sheet in now as well like H4wke?
Also I don't see anything regarding the statuses of characters of @Zero Hex or @Moonman respectively. Are they also able to toss in their character sheet in now as well like H4wke?
Shen Li Fang only has the best intentions.
10:45 PM June 4th, Mexico City
On a black rubber gym mat, Bane was currently laying down firmly on the ground. This particular gym was open twenty four hours which was nice and because of the time that Bane decided to head to this gym it was relatively empty of other patrons, and there was only a small amount of staff present. The other customers who were here were mostly focused on the machines, primarily the treadmill and the elliptical. Bane however did not care to use a machine at this moment but rather he wished to do something simpler.
This was why Bane was laying firmly down on the black rubber mat below. He had his knees pointing up and kept both of his feet firmly in place and had his arms crossed over his chest. Bane curled up as he performed a sit-up before curling back down onto the mat shortly before immediately rising up again. Upwards then back downwards, it was a simple and easy pattern to complete. Upwards then back downwards, it was a steady rhythm that Bane was keeping. Occasionally he would look up towards the television monitor that hanged above him but the colorful commercials did not keep his attention for long. His attention was focused on more sit-ups.
After many sit-ups, Bane stood up and began stretching to loosen his body a bit. He first began with a side trunk to the left, his eyes focused onto the television as the programming shifted from commercials and into the news. He held this position for a bit, watching as the late night news welcomed themselves to the audience as they returned from a commercial break. As the newscast team was preparing to delve into another segment, Bane switched his stretch from a left side trunk to a right side trunk. Cutting to the weatherman, Bane once again kept his position before returning back up just as the broadcasting duo returned from this side tangent. Spreading his legs apart and raising up his arms, Bane began performing jumping jacks as the broadcasters motioned to some news regarding foreign soil.
Apparently in United States, earlier yesterday there was a break in at the International Museum of Crime. This drew Bane's attention as he kept his focus on the television while he continued to exercise. This robbery was concocted by a man dressed as a skeleton, the symbol of death. This man passionately lamented the fate of what happened to crime while he was away. While he was still doing jumping jacks, Bane slowed down as he tilted his head slightly ever focused on the screen.
Here the proclaimed headmaster of Lord Deathman spoke of spreading the style of sensualized crimes. At this point Bane stopped exercising all together as he focused solely on the television. The luchador watched wordlessly as the skeletal goons began collecting all the money from those upperclass, and of course how Lord Deathman spoke of how to be a proper super-criminal. After that recap the broadcasters switched topics, but Bane was no longer interested in the television.
Heading to the locker-rooms Bane opened up a locker and retrieved a duffelbag before exiting the gym. He slowly opened the bag and began to carress a cylinder containing a bright green liquid before zipping the bag shut.
Bane knew what he had to do.
___________________________________________
5:36 AM, June 5th, El Tajin (Southern Ballcourt)
"BIENVENIDO!" howled out Bane as he stood on the stands glancing down upon the eight assembled warriors that he would subject to perfection. They were an eclectic bunch to be certain but Bane knew they had the heart of the warriors that other roster talent lacked. Alongside this the promoter he talked to before about the tournament was very insistent on whatever needed to happen to not lose the mask to another promotion, and allowed Bane some free reign to assemble a top notch team of warriors in order to best the Rogue Alliance of Wrestling.
They were an eclectic bunch to be certain but Bane knew they had the heart of the warriors that other roster talent lacked. Alongside this the promoter he talked to before about the tournament was very insistent on whatever needed to happen to not lose the mask to another promotion, and allowed Bane some free reign to assemble a top notch team of warriors in order to best the Rogue Alliance of Wrestling.
The first mighty contestant that was chosen by Bane was a fairly tall and twitchy looking electrician who had a greasy shirt with a single name tag indicating he was "Lucas". This man earned the honor by possessing the van that was needed to collect and transport the other warriors and the "ceremonial hoods", well at least Bane referred to them as such, in which to cover these warriors' faces in before they were unleashed in the game. It would most likely be a longshot for this man to win, but perhaps he had a sharpened instinct that would allow him to win.
Numbers two through four were more properly trained luchadors, a trio known as "The Liquidators". Well they used to be a trio before one of the partners was recently betrayed. The betrayed partner in this former alliance was known as 'Agent Big', he was a Mini-Estrella or through a more common colloquialism, "midget wrestler". Agent Big stood at four feet and two inches, and was still dressed in his canary yellow suit and ivory colored dress shoes. He was the tactical mind behind The Liquidators and the daredevil who would risk life and limb to get any asset possible for victory. Unfortunately recently the Liquidators were suffering a losing streak despite that and the other two Liquidators, Salvage and Snatch blamed Agent Big for making them look bad. Salvage and Snatch were a pair of brothers who looked identical, tall darker skinned lads with bleach blonde hair. Salvage dressed fairly similiar to Agent Big, wearing a suit combo but Salvage's was a dark brown that looked more worn out. Snatch on the other hand was the odd man out as he was a luchador who followed in the traditions of 'exoticos', male luchadors who fought in drag, and looked more like a prostitute wearing tight shorts, fishnet stockings and a crop top. Certainly this was a moment that could redeem them and kickstart a new era of success...
Number five of these warriors was sicario, a hitman and soldier for the cartel, known as "Standman" Hernandez. He was a lean and mean tattooed covered killing machine. And of course he was a rather curious soldier of the Tijuana Cartel. His moniker was earned from his previous life work as a hot-dog vendor in the States. However that didn't pan out well at all for him so Hernandez found himself back in his stomping grounds of Tijuana, where he got involved with the Tijuana Cartel. Hernandez was certainly a proficient killer, certainly had the skills of a warrior, but did he have the heart of one?
Number six of these warriors was another criminal, this one by the name of Enrique Molina. He wasn't a pretty looking man, had a nasty scar running down his face and was an obese man. But he made up in his lack of charms with business acumen, as he held a decent sized cock-fighting circuit that netted him a good amount of profit. Of course he was fine watching these animal warriors fight for their survival, but could Enrique survive when he was put in a similar situation?
Number seven of these warriors was 'chop shop' mechanic by the name of Fabio Santiago, and by jove did he earn the right to actually be named Fabio. He was tall, had chiseled abs, a great chin and eyes that reminded you a refreshing fall breeze. He was a spot on impersonator for many male leads in a variety of romance novels, but despite that somehow he was reduced to having to making a living by stealing car parts instead of women's hearts.
And rounding up this batch of warriors was a money launderer known as Pete Schneider. This man was a launderer for the Milenio Cartel, who just happened to be in Mexico City for a rare face to face interface. He was a simple looking man, had a combover and most always had a defeated looking air about him. Perhaps it was from his marriage of twenty years, or perhaps from dealings with the Milenio Cartel, or perhaps it was all a ruse in order to hide a more dangerous beast from unsuspecting gazes. The answer would surely be seen after the result of the game.
Bane's arms were outstretched to both sides while he looked down into the court watching confused luchadors removing bags from their heads. Bane allowed these warriors to glance around in confusion at the scenery they found themselves in and get some proper footing for their situation. As the drugs began to get closer to finally revitalizing themselves in his body, Bane continued on with his speech.
"¡Ustedes deben sentir mucho honor estar aquí! Es obvio que ustedes estén confudidos pero responderé a sus preguntas. Estamos en El Tajín. Este es un zona con a historia rica y aquí estaré enseñando ustedes mucha en la arte de violencia." As Bane explained that he was there with these chosen eight in order to explain to them the art of violence; he grabbed a thick, rubber ball with his left hand and just held onto it for a moment.
"Esta es la bola usado en El Juego." Most of the luchadors seemed unaware of what Bane was speaking of, but there was one in the audience who let out a gulp. Explaining the significance of the ball Bane began chucking it up and down peering down at the confused crowd who still didn't seem to understand what their purpose was here. It was a shame that some of these men, these uneducated warriors, some of them could've been among the men who would be defending the honor of Mexico against the Japanese.
"Hay cuatro miembros por cada equipo. El objetivo de El Juego es impedir la bola de cae en el suelo." After explaining this basic format of the game's structure, Bane knew that he had to do something else in order to make sure these luchadors knew proper procedure. Letting go of the ball with his left hand, Bane carefully watched its descent before thrusting his hip to smack against the ball. The ball itself flew from this trajectory and struck one of Salvage in the chest. With a loud yelp, the luchador collapsed onto the ground before he was picked back up by Snatch.
"Usarás tus caderas solamente." Again Bane thrust his hip to demonstrate the rules of this ancient bloodsport. But now with that explained Bane simply needed to finish up the rest of his dialogue.
"El Juego durará hasta un solo equipo permanecen. ¡Los perdedores son sacrificar sus vidas a Huitzilopochtli!" It was at this point the other luchadors had come to realize the exact situation that they found themselves in. "¡Los Japonés no pueden ganar!" howled out Bane as that neon green solution that was his drugs finally entered into his bloodstream.
Spying one of the eight, in particular Enrique Molina, he had assembled was trying to leave, presumably he did not sign into a tournament in order to be taken hostage by a mad man nor did he wish to compete in an ancient blood sport to survive. Bane gingerly took a small rock that was near him from the stands and hopped down in front of that luchador.
"Ahora." Bane spoke fairly calmly before crushing the rock in his bare hand while staring at Enrique. "Lucha." With a gulp the luchador returned to the other three who were closest to form a team. As the teams began to gather Bane made his way back to the stands in order to watch and observe the first of many games. Only the finest and mightiest of those souls were going to make it to that tournament, Bane would make sure of it.
On a black rubber gym mat, Bane was currently laying down firmly on the ground. This particular gym was open twenty four hours which was nice and because of the time that Bane decided to head to this gym it was relatively empty of other patrons, and there was only a small amount of staff present. The other customers who were here were mostly focused on the machines, primarily the treadmill and the elliptical. Bane however did not care to use a machine at this moment but rather he wished to do something simpler.
This was why Bane was laying firmly down on the black rubber mat below. He had his knees pointing up and kept both of his feet firmly in place and had his arms crossed over his chest. Bane curled up as he performed a sit-up before curling back down onto the mat shortly before immediately rising up again. Upwards then back downwards, it was a simple and easy pattern to complete. Upwards then back downwards, it was a steady rhythm that Bane was keeping. Occasionally he would look up towards the television monitor that hanged above him but the colorful commercials did not keep his attention for long. His attention was focused on more sit-ups.
After many sit-ups, Bane stood up and began stretching to loosen his body a bit. He first began with a side trunk to the left, his eyes focused onto the television as the programming shifted from commercials and into the news. He held this position for a bit, watching as the late night news welcomed themselves to the audience as they returned from a commercial break. As the newscast team was preparing to delve into another segment, Bane switched his stretch from a left side trunk to a right side trunk. Cutting to the weatherman, Bane once again kept his position before returning back up just as the broadcasting duo returned from this side tangent. Spreading his legs apart and raising up his arms, Bane began performing jumping jacks as the broadcasters motioned to some news regarding foreign soil.
Apparently in United States, earlier yesterday there was a break in at the International Museum of Crime. This drew Bane's attention as he kept his focus on the television while he continued to exercise. This robbery was concocted by a man dressed as a skeleton, the symbol of death. This man passionately lamented the fate of what happened to crime while he was away. While he was still doing jumping jacks, Bane slowed down as he tilted his head slightly ever focused on the screen.
Here the proclaimed headmaster of Lord Deathman spoke of spreading the style of sensualized crimes. At this point Bane stopped exercising all together as he focused solely on the television. The luchador watched wordlessly as the skeletal goons began collecting all the money from those upperclass, and of course how Lord Deathman spoke of how to be a proper super-criminal. After that recap the broadcasters switched topics, but Bane was no longer interested in the television.
Heading to the locker-rooms Bane opened up a locker and retrieved a duffelbag before exiting the gym. He slowly opened the bag and began to carress a cylinder containing a bright green liquid before zipping the bag shut.
Bane knew what he had to do.
___________________________________________
5:36 AM, June 5th, El Tajin (Southern Ballcourt)
"BIENVENIDO!" howled out Bane as he stood on the stands glancing down upon the eight assembled warriors that he would subject to perfection. They were an eclectic bunch to be certain but Bane knew they had the heart of the warriors that other roster talent lacked. Alongside this the promoter he talked to before about the tournament was very insistent on whatever needed to happen to not lose the mask to another promotion, and allowed Bane some free reign to assemble a top notch team of warriors in order to best the Rogue Alliance of Wrestling.
They were an eclectic bunch to be certain but Bane knew they had the heart of the warriors that other roster talent lacked. Alongside this the promoter he talked to before about the tournament was very insistent on whatever needed to happen to not lose the mask to another promotion, and allowed Bane some free reign to assemble a top notch team of warriors in order to best the Rogue Alliance of Wrestling.
The first mighty contestant that was chosen by Bane was a fairly tall and twitchy looking electrician who had a greasy shirt with a single name tag indicating he was "Lucas". This man earned the honor by possessing the van that was needed to collect and transport the other warriors and the "ceremonial hoods", well at least Bane referred to them as such, in which to cover these warriors' faces in before they were unleashed in the game. It would most likely be a longshot for this man to win, but perhaps he had a sharpened instinct that would allow him to win.
Numbers two through four were more properly trained luchadors, a trio known as "The Liquidators". Well they used to be a trio before one of the partners was recently betrayed. The betrayed partner in this former alliance was known as 'Agent Big', he was a Mini-Estrella or through a more common colloquialism, "midget wrestler". Agent Big stood at four feet and two inches, and was still dressed in his canary yellow suit and ivory colored dress shoes. He was the tactical mind behind The Liquidators and the daredevil who would risk life and limb to get any asset possible for victory. Unfortunately recently the Liquidators were suffering a losing streak despite that and the other two Liquidators, Salvage and Snatch blamed Agent Big for making them look bad. Salvage and Snatch were a pair of brothers who looked identical, tall darker skinned lads with bleach blonde hair. Salvage dressed fairly similiar to Agent Big, wearing a suit combo but Salvage's was a dark brown that looked more worn out. Snatch on the other hand was the odd man out as he was a luchador who followed in the traditions of 'exoticos', male luchadors who fought in drag, and looked more like a prostitute wearing tight shorts, fishnet stockings and a crop top. Certainly this was a moment that could redeem them and kickstart a new era of success...
Number five of these warriors was sicario, a hitman and soldier for the cartel, known as "Standman" Hernandez. He was a lean and mean tattooed covered killing machine. And of course he was a rather curious soldier of the Tijuana Cartel. His moniker was earned from his previous life work as a hot-dog vendor in the States. However that didn't pan out well at all for him so Hernandez found himself back in his stomping grounds of Tijuana, where he got involved with the Tijuana Cartel. Hernandez was certainly a proficient killer, certainly had the skills of a warrior, but did he have the heart of one?
Number six of these warriors was another criminal, this one by the name of Enrique Molina. He wasn't a pretty looking man, had a nasty scar running down his face and was an obese man. But he made up in his lack of charms with business acumen, as he held a decent sized cock-fighting circuit that netted him a good amount of profit. Of course he was fine watching these animal warriors fight for their survival, but could Enrique survive when he was put in a similar situation?
Number seven of these warriors was 'chop shop' mechanic by the name of Fabio Santiago, and by jove did he earn the right to actually be named Fabio. He was tall, had chiseled abs, a great chin and eyes that reminded you a refreshing fall breeze. He was a spot on impersonator for many male leads in a variety of romance novels, but despite that somehow he was reduced to having to making a living by stealing car parts instead of women's hearts.
And rounding up this batch of warriors was a money launderer known as Pete Schneider. This man was a launderer for the Milenio Cartel, who just happened to be in Mexico City for a rare face to face interface. He was a simple looking man, had a combover and most always had a defeated looking air about him. Perhaps it was from his marriage of twenty years, or perhaps from dealings with the Milenio Cartel, or perhaps it was all a ruse in order to hide a more dangerous beast from unsuspecting gazes. The answer would surely be seen after the result of the game.
Bane's arms were outstretched to both sides while he looked down into the court watching confused luchadors removing bags from their heads. Bane allowed these warriors to glance around in confusion at the scenery they found themselves in and get some proper footing for their situation. As the drugs began to get closer to finally revitalizing themselves in his body, Bane continued on with his speech.
"¡Ustedes deben sentir mucho honor estar aquí! Es obvio que ustedes estén confudidos pero responderé a sus preguntas. Estamos en El Tajín. Este es un zona con a historia rica y aquí estaré enseñando ustedes mucha en la arte de violencia." As Bane explained that he was there with these chosen eight in order to explain to them the art of violence; he grabbed a thick, rubber ball with his left hand and just held onto it for a moment.
"Esta es la bola usado en El Juego." Most of the luchadors seemed unaware of what Bane was speaking of, but there was one in the audience who let out a gulp. Explaining the significance of the ball Bane began chucking it up and down peering down at the confused crowd who still didn't seem to understand what their purpose was here. It was a shame that some of these men, these uneducated warriors, some of them could've been among the men who would be defending the honor of Mexico against the Japanese.
"Hay cuatro miembros por cada equipo. El objetivo de El Juego es impedir la bola de cae en el suelo." After explaining this basic format of the game's structure, Bane knew that he had to do something else in order to make sure these luchadors knew proper procedure. Letting go of the ball with his left hand, Bane carefully watched its descent before thrusting his hip to smack against the ball. The ball itself flew from this trajectory and struck one of Salvage in the chest. With a loud yelp, the luchador collapsed onto the ground before he was picked back up by Snatch.
"Usarás tus caderas solamente." Again Bane thrust his hip to demonstrate the rules of this ancient bloodsport. But now with that explained Bane simply needed to finish up the rest of his dialogue.
"El Juego durará hasta un solo equipo permanecen. ¡Los perdedores son sacrificar sus vidas a Huitzilopochtli!" It was at this point the other luchadors had come to realize the exact situation that they found themselves in. "¡Los Japonés no pueden ganar!" howled out Bane as that neon green solution that was his drugs finally entered into his bloodstream.
Spying one of the eight, in particular Enrique Molina, he had assembled was trying to leave, presumably he did not sign into a tournament in order to be taken hostage by a mad man nor did he wish to compete in an ancient blood sport to survive. Bane gingerly took a small rock that was near him from the stands and hopped down in front of that luchador.
"Ahora." Bane spoke fairly calmly before crushing the rock in his bare hand while staring at Enrique. "Lucha." With a gulp the luchador returned to the other three who were closest to form a team. As the teams began to gather Bane made his way back to the stands in order to watch and observe the first of many games. Only the finest and mightiest of those souls were going to make it to that tournament, Bane would make sure of it.
March 31, 5:00 PM, Mexico City
Mexico City is a fascinating place; a metropolis with roots entrenched in tradition, honor, and more importantly violence. Even though the jewel of the Aztec Empire, Tenochtitlan, was captured by the Spanish and reforged in blood to become Mexico City, the violence never left this place. Such displays of carnage are still present to this very day, from the undisciplined ruffians to more eloquent examples of brutality by the Cartels and of course the traditional and methodical art of lucha libre, Mexico City is a place soaked in blood.
Perhaps this is why the masked man known as Bane keeps a, certain, presence here.
Here the scene is set upon a renovated bingo hall. The old folk who used to own it, a Mister Juan Perez, found that he could no longer afford his bingo hall because clients seemed to be dragged away by other interests. Fortunately for the building it was bought out by Javier Gonzalez, a former road agent for a larger lucha libre wrestling organization, he currently operated this building as a 'feeder system' for a larger wrestling organization. It was his task to get these talent to train so they could be ready to move up to the main organization. So Javier renovated the place, gave it some locker rooms, put in a ring and some bleachers.
This was why Bane was here. Certainly yes, he could've tried to go directly to the main organization, however that would've been trickier and he was here to test his technique. In that case there was no better place to be than at a proper training ground. So there he was, hunched over a rusting locker staring intently at the dufflebag that tempted him so. His muscles twitched, and writhed. Bane clenched his hands together and dug his fingernails deep into his palms.
Rocking back and forth, Bane knew what he had to do. He grabbed the dufflebag and, lifted it up to grab a legalpad and a pen. He slammed the locker shut and promptly locked it. Tromping to a nearby bench he began to write on the pad, while hovering over it.
'Veneno
Tu beso hayas adornado
mi cuello.
Apasionado
Son mi los sentimientos para tu-'
However after this, there was an interruption as other luchadors were beginning to enter the locker-room. Bane took the notepad and once again opened the locker and returned the notepad back. Bane began to stretch his arms and legs, as he was about to face off against an opponent relatively shortly...
________________________________
7:00 - Wrestling Ring
Some people had started to file in for a show, after all how could a feeder system properly test those who are in it without having them do battle against each other in front of a crowd.
Bane and his opponent already did their entrances. Tonight Bane was being put in against a technico known as "Rockstar". He was surprisingly taller than Bane, standing in at six feet and he had an alright amount of muscle on him, albeit not as much as Bane had on him. He was dressed in a pair of pink and black trunks with a large broken heart featured prominently on the keister, and on his mask. He was on the left side eagerly bouncing around and gyrating his hips.
Before the bell was ringing, Rockstar was on the second ropes mugging to the crowd. The crowd seemed to be into the performance. On the other side of the ring Bane was simply standing there watching from behind the mask. For now he allowed the Rockstar to have his fun and amuse the crowd, he would have his moment for heeling sooner rather than later. Hopping down from the ring Rockstar stuck his tongue out and gave a come over here gesture.
The bell rang signalling the match had started; Bane obliged the earlier taunt by Rockstar by bullslamming him into the corner. He threw in a series of punches as Rockstar rolled out of the ring. The ref began counting out Rockstar as Bane paced through the ring holding out a single arm, giving Rockstar the time to return into the ring.
Rockstar hopped onto the top rope and lunged down at Bane performing a double-axe handle. Bane noticed something peculiar about this move, nonetheless Bane decided to work with his opponent as he staggered a bit back. Going back to the ropes, Rockstar did a coast to coast, which Bane again sold for. Rockstar continued to apply offensive moves to Bane, while Bane took them and allowed Rockstar to successfully flee from his attempts at grappling.
However despite this, Rockstar did something that was truly unforgivable.
In the middle of the ring with Bane, he began chopping. The first knife-hand chop made a very loud noise and drew much applause from the crowd. Bane did not budge. Rockstar repeated the gesture, yet again Bane did not budge. With the third chop incoming, Bane swerved around the man and placed him in a sleeper hold.
He held hold until Rockstar passed out. The bell rang out quickly as Bane tore off the mask of Rockstar and yelled out to the crowd.
"¡Entiende la máscara o yo quitare!"
The crowd began throwing batteries, beer bottles, and whatever else they could at Bane who threw both of his arms up as he went through the ropes and out of the ring.
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Approximately 7:13 Backstage Locker-room
As he exited the ring a few smaller luchadors were giving him the stink eye and were about to try something; if it wasn't for Javier Gonzalez standing there in his lime green tweed suit. He gave Bane the 'follow me finger' and went further into the bowels of the arena to his office. Bane proceeded to collect his belongings before following the man to the office.
It was a sparse office, a desk, a fan, small television in the corner. Javier sat down and extended out his palm to suggest that Bane also should sit down. Bane sat his duffel bag next to the desk and took a seat.
With a grin curling up on his lips, Javier placed his fingers into a pyramid position and spoke.
["...How do you feel about tournaments?"]
High Low Tier Villain
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