Tezcatlipoca

Tezcatlipoca vs. Xavier Bloodboyne - #LUCHAGAMES

SPOILERS

(Gentlemen, it is with a heavy heart that I must put down this rabid dog called Xavier Bloodbayne.

I, we, came to RPGuild in search of competition only to find that drama was waiting for us. Amid a sea of trolls and flames it was Xavier who stepped forward and agreed to show us the better face of the Guild. Only now do I realize that it does not exist. Over the course of several posts Xavier has demonstrated a complete inability to understand what makes competitive roleplay competitive. In place of a poor understanding of fundamentals such as timing, spacing, and planning (the footsies of roleplay if you will) he has built for himself a power which knows no weakness, no equal, and no failure.

His thin veneer of friendliness merely a mask of overconfidence, for he knew he could not lose with his character as it is written.

To the uninitiated among you, this may sound like a fantastic idea, but look only at his supposed evidence to see what the truth behind such abilities. No tactical mind went into the creation of Dreadmetal, just a stubborn almost childish refusal to stand on equal terms with the opponent. At no point can Xavier say that he has ever bested an opponent, for to do so with Dreadmetal would be like saying you won a game of Chess when your opponent could only use Pawns and you freely replaced any pieces that you’ve lost. Yet even then he was grappled, trapped in a corner, and driven to the ground with only a power that can seemingly redirect itself in mid attack so that it can cover any mistakes the player made.

And there are many mistakes.

Let it be said that this is not fighting, nor judging by the constant arguments which plague this section is it friendly, or even good natured. Amorphous blobs of power which cannot be challenged are not a tactic. Nor is demanding the enemy die in a single blow due to your metagaming, insistently demanding that you have poisoned your opponents power and made it your own, or the litany of other bad manners tactics that have reared their ugly head in the past few months. These powers do not exist to facilitate interesting tactics or an exhilarating exchange, they do not even make for a good scene, they reduce the other player to a mere NPC within a child’s power fantasy.

And if you tell me that this is merely how high powers work; then I will tell you to reconsider your entire understanding of powers.

Alas, in light of this, I decided to simply turn my back and leave rather than put Xavier on blast. What does it matter to me, so long as he has fun? But he would not have it. What was an attempt to avoid adding to the trash heap that now fills this section; he took as a sign of weakness. You have torn off your mask to reveal your true face Xavier; it is not that of a warrior, a fighter, or a competitor. You are a scavenger looking to abuse the ancient art of roleplay combat for your own gain.

Let us weep for so much potential lost…)

As Xavier’s dying brain reveled in an imagined victory reality churned on, El Rey clutched his opponent firmly by the hair and drove on. One heavy blow after another. After the first strike the metal mask dislodged itself, spraying blood and skull fragments into the absent crowd. After the second strike the lasers stopped firing from Xavier’s eyes, his left even going so far as to pop out of the socket. When the third blow landed there was a sickening crack that let the world know Xavier’s skull had finally splintered, and it was clear to anyone watching that everything which followed was mere sadism.

Xavier Bloodbayne was no longer in the ring and El Rey was no longer fighting.

It continued for a few more strokes, reducing what had once been a handsome face into an unrecognizable pile of mush, the power which flowed through Xavier’s veins whipped and cracked in protest but it did nothing when grazing El Rey’s armored flesh. The cameras in turn remained fixed on the Fifth Apocalypse, even going so far as to zoom in while fans all across the ‘Verse caught their breath, as he took a handle on what was left of Xavier’s skull. With a wrench he pulled the entirety of the man’s face free along with the front of his skull and from there he allowed the small underused brain to flop into his grasp. He squeezed tight; he tested it in his grasp and felt it swell between his fingers while muttering, ‘Surrender was an option, foolish child.’ It was the only sign of remorse he would show for a fallen warrior with so much potential.

Xavier had forgotten what it meant to fight, to truly fight as an equal without arrogance, and he had lost his life for it. El Rey shoveled those brains into his jaguar mouth, gnashed his bladed teeth and reduced it to mash in a matter of seconds. Then when all but the last sloppy bits of grey matter had slid down his gullet he unleashed a roar and the world did tremble…

Long live the King!

Tezcatlipoca vs. Xavier Bloodboyne - #LUCHAGAMES

Unfortunately for Xavier, that potential energy would not be as useful as he was hoping. El Rey could do nothing about the mercurial nature of Dreadmetal, which is to say he could not stop it from transitioning from one phase to the next, but he had accepted that fact the moment Xavier dropped to the ring wreathed in crimson fog. What he could do, was remove it from existence entirely. This was the power granted to him as the Fifth Apocalypse of the Luchalliance and there were none who could defy this edict be they mortal or immortal. As such, though Xavier had time to absorb some of the latent Dreadmetal in the surrounding area and in the metal gloves, due to the simultaneous nature of his punch and explosion a great deal of that potential energy would simply cease to be.

Not ground to dust, not evaporated, not even reduced to a base state of free energy. In sheer ignorance of the laws of thermodynamics it was simply gone. That isn’t to say that Xavier couldn’t produce more or draw energy from the ambient chaos in the surrounding area. But destruction was a double-edged sword and wielding it as a source of power was in no way a guarantee against its touch, it was a frightening prospect for many cosmic warriors, who often held their personal power source as sacred and superior. Above all attempts at reproach. However, to stand against El Rey was to discard such foolish notions, for nothing was ever safe standing before him and even eternity came to an end.

Perhaps Xavier had seen beings similar to El Rey, but he had never seen anything exactly like him.

Yet, the powers of destruction and chaos were fair in their own twisted way. El Rey was not able to subvert Xavier's powers in any way other than sheer force and volume, with clever application playing a secondary role, and he certainly could not make them his own. Everything El Rey wielded could be destroyed, in fact once the energy of his ethereal super punch had expended itself, there would be no trace of it to be found even if one were to sniff through every dimension layered beneath this one. He could, and would, produce more not only by drawing on his inner reserves but by leeching from the ambient chaos all the same. If Xavier wanted to steal El Rey's power source for his own there was but one way, to defeat him in a martial contest and then accept the title of the Sixth Apocalypse. The generally accepted way to do this was in melee, though La Maquina seemed determined to prove she could do it at range, and having access to spells didn't hurt either although magic was by and large blunted by his armored fur.

In a sense, the two of them were caught in a cosmic sudden death match.

Whether the specifics of El Rey’s power gave Xavier pause or not it hardly mattered. The Master of Blood and Metal was not intent on retreat, hell, he didn’t even let El Rey give him the chance to do so. He summoned a pair of earthen pillars to replace the fallen ring post and braced himself against them, the explosion had knocked him from his feet but thanks to those pillars he was able to land on his rear maybe a few inches back from where he’d been before, his hands splayed out to either side of his body and his head turned up. That Dreadmetal which he’d managed to summon had formed a skintight shield over his entire body with which to weather El Rey’s assault. He hadn’t been fast enough though, and the further out from his core the more his skin had flayed away to reveal the pulsing red and corded metal beneath. Meanwhile the Fifth Apocalypse was left to loom, fists clenched at abdomen level and smoking in the aftermath of a mighty attack and no doubt transitioning into another position as he advanced…

It was not a good position to be in.

Xavier was pooling his energy and anyone with a lick of sixth sense could see it coming. The crimson light pulsing in his gaze was a telltale sign that there was something big on the horizon, but as swift as his preparation may have been, El Rey’s was on him just as fast. Since his opponent wasn’t leaving the ring and there was no distance between them, it was no longer safe for him to grandstand and would also make no sense for him to demand the other get back into the ring, so instead he chased his falling opponent. Two of the four eyes on his costume snapped shut just as the beam of power warmed over him. El Rey directed a fresh charge of apocalyptic power into coating his body in a shield of energy so as to deflect that roving wave of power. El Rey concentrated his energy to a fine point, so that he became not unlike a rock standing amid a flowing river, and though he could feel the incredible force of Xavier’s beam wrenching at his body he refused to fall back.

Not even a half second later El Rey’s left arm was diving out of the beam and palming Xavier’s skull, fingers like claws burrowing into his scalp and then wrenching back. This would mitigate the amount of time he had to spent swimming through the optic blast by directing it up and into the atmosphere, where the Masked Judgment’s power shields simply deflected the beam. Nigh simultaneous to that would be his right fist crashing down and into the side of Xavier’s head, fingers clenched tight and with spikes of neon purple power surrounding it. The charge he’d spent went into turning his fist into a mace, calcifying that frightening power which he wielded into several solid-state constructs designed to punch their way through Dreadmetal as he understood it, though they’d work just fine on muscle and bone. By advancing while his opponent was still falling and bracing, El Rey was preempting any attempt at a defense, taking advantage of the new positioning and punishing Xavier for his hasty attempt to stay in the ring. Because of this, the fact that he was going straight into attacking out of a rest state and Xavier would be bracing himself before entering a defensive one, it was safe to assume he’d get at least one or two good punches in before anything happened. It also went without saying but a man like El Rey dropping his fist on someone’s face was devastating, the force alone would be enough to rattle the earth for miles around, and the spikes of power in question would hopefully provide the x-factor necessary to eradicate any passive or poorly prepared defensive options in place.

The blows would continue to fall, one after the other and faster than the eye could follow, up until Xavier stopped him. As for the second charge he’d spent, well that would come into play a little later…

Tezcatlipoca vs. Xavier Bloodboyne - #LUCHAGAMES

Had El Rey been the kind of man to offer advice, he would have warned Xavier against this course. This desperate attempt to fill every moment with peril would only leave him vulnerable. A warrior must be swift, but not so much so that he acts with haste, and his every movement must be clear in mind if not heart.

Such was the folly of youth...

He was not surprised when Xavier reshaped those metal gloves into metal orbs, trapping his hands within. Given Xavier’s acute control over the bloody metal from whence he’d formed the pair, this been a distinct possibility from the very beginning. Seeing it come to fruition merely taught El Rey that much more about the enemy. However swift Xavier may have been, contact was made and his attack had been stopped, at least for a time. Meanwhile El Rey never bothered to initiate his attack, it was pointless to strike with his knee now, what with hands being trapped. But even with both attempts stalled this was far from a neutral position.

The Fifth Apocalypse merely took a step forward and thrust his captured arms into Xavier's abdomen, unleashing the same devastating attack as before, but this time in stereo.

Of positioning, it was perfect. No attempt had been made to stop El Rey from sliding his hands between Xavier's forearms, most likely because the other thought he wouldn't even bother, but that was far from the case. He was mere inches away from Xavier's core with a pair of working hands, if that, while the other was only halfway through his own rising strike and forced to circumnavigate El Rey's beastly limbs just to deliver a neutered version of his initial attack. The choice to cut Xavier off at the pass was much an act of mercy as violence.

Of the orbs, they were no problem. Though Xavier surmised that El Rey would have to produce an incredible amount of force to break them, he had forgotten that El Rey was force personified. The mere act of clenching his fingers into fists within those orbs was enough to send cracks flying across the surface. Inside, any metal that had been between his fingers and palms was ground to dust. Then, in that short distance he utilized every muscle in the body at once, gathering the full of their strength with only an inch of draw, just to pummel Xavier.

But just as before, physical force was merely a supporting actor to the real threat. Not one but two apocalyptic blasts tore out from his fists, evaporating what was left of the glove-orbs into nonexistence and then rampaging through Xavier's abdomen. Two turns had been spent stopping the attack from happening, no turns had been spent preparing a defense against it, and thus it was safe to assume that the attack would go off unmolested. The ring post tore off, the ropes and apron evaporated, a gaping hole would open in Xavier’s chest born of energy that would flay the rest of his upper body and pelvis.

Then when it was all over El Rey stood in the ring alone, his arms spread out to either side of his body and a snarl in his throat, just as a fourth eye emerged from his costume.

Tezcatlipoca vs. Xavier Bloodboyne - #LUCHAGAMES

El Rey was not impervious to damage so much as he was impervious to pain. Of course, his large frame and reinforced physiology did a lot to cover that which his armored second skin did not, but Xavier was a powerful striker in his own right. And yet, whatever damage had been done to the Apocalypse was only ever acknowledged with the perfunctory thought process one might use to assess a chipped nail.

When Xavier set his feet to the mat and began to pedal backwards, he not only slowed El Rey's advance but also guaranteed that he had some measure of control over the proceedings, not nearly enough to stop himself but just enough to affect a counter attack. The pool of blood that had been building at Xavier’s chest split into two segments, which then stab at El Rey's eyes with a frightening speed and an alternating pattern designed to catch him off guard. El Rey dipped to the right and dodged the first spike, then to the left in order to dodge the first, and so began a subtle bob and weave. This new movement only slowed his advance by a fraction and kept him from losing an eye. Even if the spikes still struck, without a clean hit they’d find themselves glancing off of the jaguar’s thickly armored maw, earning little more than a snarl of irritation for their effort.

But El Rey was not done.

Just as El Rey was set to enter a comfortable rhythm, he proceeded to cross his arms and Xavier's with them. On top of creating a brace for when they finally hit the turnbuckle, the act would also create a decent shield that began at chest level, in the form of two heavily muscled and woefully bare forearms. Just dodging was not enough for the Apocalypse. He wanted to squeeze every last drop of punishment out of the time he spent tangled with Xavier, if there was even a possibility that he could maneuver the Bloodbayne into stabbing his own arms then he would take it, and whether it worked or not they slammed into the corner.

BOOM!!!

The ring roared with protest but did nothing, could do nothing, to stop them. The stabbing may have stopped, but in the interceding time a pair of metal gloves had formed over Xavier's hands without displacing El Rey’s grip, proving that his opponent was both an efficient multi-tasker and a decent out-of-box thinker. Such contests could become messy, this much was true, and yet at the same time there were few things quite as playing chess with one’s opponent. Nothing would stop El Rey from executing his offense just as planned though, not even Xavier, who instead sought to use it to his advantage. It was a tight space for two very big men to maneuver around one another, but Xavier slipped his hands out of his newly minted metal gloves and ducked beneath El Rey’s elbow. Then, when his head was low and his hands free, Xavier palmed his own chest and absorbed the two puddles of blood that had formed there. These puddles became a new set of gloves, with which he delivered a thrust up and into El Rey’s abdomen; summoning a pair of spikes on the inside of each hand at the last moment for added penetration.

It was now clear that Xavier viewed his blood as a resource, but unclear as to just how much of said resource he had available to him, for even with his blood flowing freely for several turns he seemed completely unaffected.

El Rey was able to see such fine detail thanks to his ability to peer through the darkness, and with three additional eyes scattered across his body to do just that, he was more than prepared to defend against Xavier’s thrust. Speaking of which, a fourth eye had opened, only for the first one to close, leaving the total for this turn at three. The Apocalypse brought his hands down to meet Xavier’s thrusting palm with his own. The metal gloves he grasped would bear the brunt of the strike, in addition to keeping those spikes from digging into his hand, though it was all but guaranteed they would crumble after, either because of Xavier’s raw strength or his command over the material. When that happened, El Rey would already be rotating his hands down, past Xavier’s hands and to the space between his arms where he was free to grasp the Bloodbayne by the wrists and then wrench his arms wide. An act that would expose his core. Then, just as Xavier would have reached the apex of his thrust, El Rey proceeded to deliver a devastating encore in the form of another knee strike, and he brought the apocalypse with him.

El Rey did not simply strike Xavier, he unleashed a torrent of destructive ether in the wake of the blow, a veritable flood that spilled out across the immediate area eradicated all that it came in contact with. On the material plane is appeared as a deep purple flame which ate everything it touch, but this was a mere visualization, the universes attempt to rationalize that which was wholly unnatural. Beneath their feet, the white ring mat shrank back to reveal the thick plywood below, all six ring ropes severed around them, and the post itself was protected by Xavier’s body but still snapped off at five feet by way of sheer force then flew off.

As for Xavier? Well, that remained to be seen. The blow itself was easily ten times that which he’d used on the Bloodbayne before, his undead body swollen with supernatural strength the moment he unleashed a charge, but that was hardly the issue. The real question was how Xavier dealt with the rampaging ether that spread across his upper body. His skin was likely a lost cause, but were his bones and muscles dense enough to survive a meeting with the apocalypse, and would his supernatural blood be up to the task of keeping him alive once the worst had passed? If he was wounded grievously the question then was how would Xavier recover; was his blood also capable of healing wounds or was he the kind of bastard who kept fighting and ignored a gaping chest wound?

Regardless of what happened, should the blow land it would fling Xavier from the ring and into the space normally reserved for the crowd, obliterating the guard rail and toppling empty chairs before finally allowing him to stop.

In the ring El Rey would loom, his arms spread wide and a roar filling the back of his throat. The metal gloves had ceased to be in the wake of his attack and even the fog (white and crimson) would be obliterated in his immediate area. A wall of crimson roiled behind him as though incapable of advancing further, what was left of the ropes snapped like serpents of plasma, and from on high the droids drew their spotlights to him and him alone. For therein was the only person worthy of standing in the ring, within the Luchalliance and especially without, and in a booming voice he called out to Xavier; “Return to the ring and face me, or abandon your mask and flee!”

TZDL2017 Rules/Signups/Updates

>Legit Judge
>RP Guild

Pick one.

Tezcatlipoca vs. Xavier Bloodboyne - #LUCHAGAMES

El Rey was impressed; first by Xavier's ingenuity and then by his resilience.

Equally matched as their strengths were, any attempt to break the rods with secondhand pressure would have been slow to the point of impracticality. Thus, by creating a brace for his wrist Xavier had neutered El Rey's advance, at least for a time. The downside was obvious, by locking his wrists in place Xavier limited their mobility and left them unable to react to more creative forms of subversion; unless, of course, Xavier was able to advance and retract the rods without consequence now that they'd been formed.

That in turn, presented a most interesting question.

Judging by the crimson fog surrounding them, the blood dribbling from his mask, and now the rods that had emerged from his boiling flesh it was clear that Xavier's power source was liquid life. Which is to say blood. It was safe to assume that this was no mere hemomancy, there was something special about Xavier's blood that no doubt accounted for his increased weight and supernal strength; in much the same El Rey's undead vassalage to the Jaguar God had transformed him into a something that straddled the line between organic and construct. The question then was whether or not Xavier's power extended into the realm of flesh warping, and if that meant he was impervious to long lasting physical harm. Not immune to damage, even the mightiest tanks could be worn down, but if Xavier was capable of rapid self-repair then El Rey's strategy would not need to change.

Likely from one of brawling and strength, to another that capitalized on the destructive nature of his ether. He could start imbuing his strikes with ether immediately, but to play his cards before their time, well…

Regardless, Xavier ate the first knee like a champ before being flung into the air, at home the fans were roaring and wincing in equal measure. But from El Rey's perspective things were a little different. The strike was more impressive than it was effective, which isn't to say it did no damage, but as one half of the collision El Rey could tell that Xavier had tightened his core to take the blow. Hardened in a way that superseded the mere clenching of muscles. What force did disperse into Xavier's body told him that the man inside was a curious one too, with little to no internal organs and hardened bones, no doubt an effort to limit the number of potential traumatic injuries he could suffer and to create more space for more tightly wound muscle.

A dent though, that was good, a little compromise here could lead to a big compromise there.

Xavier seemed to think the very same thing because when he was descending into the second knee strike he twisted to the side, throwing that considerable weight of his into a sideways tumble. Because of the tight nature of their movements, El Rey's knee would likely still scrape off of Xavier's side, but with the armor still in play and Xavier's considerable natural gifts the amount of damage dealt from a grazing blow wouldn't even be worth registering. Then he threw his own strike. It was a mirror of El Rey’s, performed with his right knee and hammering into the Apocalypse’s body to the sound of a resounding bang, and it achieved the same result. With the flesh of the Jaguar God like armor for his body and a body of cultivated undead might beneath that, Xavier’s knee found its force mitigated despite the impressive sound it made. He’d still done damage, but that was hard to calculate when El Rey was designed to ignore pain.

Not as mortal men felt it at the very least.

The Jaguar Mask loosed a vicious snarl of its own, gnashing teeth with spittle flying out; and though it was easy to mistake this reaction for one of pain, the truth was it was releasing a palpable aura of excitement. The mere act of violence and the prospect of more to come enough to spur it into life. At that time, El Rey decided to change his strategy, his left leg slid forward and settled in the space behind Xavier's leg as it fell back into line, a break in the man's stance and balance for what came next. Then with their hands still locked he threw his weight into a rush forward, for a man so powerful it was but a single powerful step forward and only intended to drive Xavier into the north-eastern turnbuckle, the ring would buckle and yet the padding seemed almost used to absorbing such portentous impacts.

Hopefully Xavier was still unable to stop him whilst

Should this be successful then El Rey would begin to rain elbows down upon the side of Xavier's head. This maneuver was performed with a twisting of his hips and a draw of Xavier's captured arms to the side, that way he could in theory expose the other man's head and deliver one sharp strike to the skull after another. Now that the secret was out, that the flesh of the Jaguar was like a suit of armor and a weapon all at once, those elbows became all the more frightening with how they struck with impact and piercing damage at the same time. This too was more research; how would Xavier deal with trauma to the head, if his skull wasn't strong enough to stop all the force then could his brain weather it instead, and if damage was dealt then did it really matter in the long term?

What of that mask and how would he escape?

Up to this point it seemed as though El Rey was content to 'capture' his opponent in close quarters where he could pummel Xavier with repetition. By putting the other in the corner, he would in theory eliminate his ability to angle from one side to the next, but many a monstrous wrestler had underestimated just how tenacious their opponents became when trapped. Not that Xavier was anything less than another monster, but it almost felt like El Rey was inviting mister Bloodbayne to do his worst. There was no masochism and no sadism behind those yellow eyes, only an earnest love for the art of fighting, one that ran deeper than any romantic or sexual connection ever had.

Meanwhile; a third orifice opened upon his body.

Tezcatlipoca vs. Xavier Bloodboyne - #LUCHAGAMES

El Rey sneered, insofar as a jaguar could, and allowed Xavier his silence. There would be time for banter later, when the roles of predator and prey had been established; but in the now, it was far more appropriate for the hunters to stalk one another in silence.

He practically slammed his palms into Xavier's when they were close enough. The force he generated in that small space was enough to release a resounding boom, followed by a wave so palpable that it could be felt across the system, if not through the billions of screens at home than through the roar of the fans watching them. Of course, it was mostly for show, any pain that resulted from the collision would be mutual and even the effect it had on the red cloud of power was intentionally negligible. And while the fans went wild El Rey was busy studying Xavier. Even with his sixth sense prowling through the man’s aura, taking stock of the fog around them and the blood running down his face in equal measure, there were some things that could only true be understood once they were felt. His strength, for example, was appreciable but also expected; it was instead Xavier’s increased body weight that drew the majority of El Rey's curiosity.

Overall there was still much for him to learn about this challenger, but the first impression sketched the image of a warrior who was at once stubborn and powerful.

Meanwhile, El Rey’s stance was a mirror of Xavier's, his feet spread three lengths apart with the right forward and the left back. El Rey's wrists refused to bend and instead used his height to descend upon Xavier’s wrists and return the favor. Whatever advantage Xavier's compact build gave him was met in equal measure by the first feral snarls of his waking god, and like this they were equally matched, maintaining a stalemate that caused the ring and air to quiver in terror. However, if they were to continue like this than the physiological differences would likely drive Xavier back, or force his hand. But, it was not to be, at the fifth beat passed El Rey’s left knee snapped up and into Xavier's abdomen, the force was more than enough to lift the miniature wall from his feet and would have killed a lesser man on impact. There would be a second knee incoming and a third one after that, each one stronger than the last with no signs of stopping until Xavier forced them to or El Rey grew bored of striking.

This however, was but a distant possibility, though the prospect of juggling Xavier on the cap of his knee was an amusing one, but the chances of his opponent being so weak after such an entrance were negligible. More interesting that would be seeing how the blood pooling around Xavier's abdomen reacted to the implacable armor that covered El Rey's entire body, how his opponent’s hyper density dealt to the prospect of enough blunt force trauma to bring down a building, and whether the warrior was planning some manner of trap with the building fog. Amid it all a second orifice emerged on El Rey’s armored flesh and his pooling power grew deeper with it.

Tezcatlipoca vs. Xavier Bloodboyne - #LUCHAGAMES

El Rey felt Xavier’s approach before he could see or hear it. When the warrior was still in space with no logical way for any one man to detect his approach, trapped inside of a vessel shaped like a metal skull with only sick beats and crimson power to see him to his destination, El Rey was watching. No one understood the virtue of patience more than the dead…

If there was one thing members of the Luchalliance appreciated, it was showmanship. Where other fighters may have turned their nose up at Xavier’s display, declared it an act of egotistical grandstanding, in the eyes of a Luchador it was both exciting and sporting. After all, to fight without showing your spirit was to disappoint the audience and the gods, and as such there was no better way to ingratiate yourself to a masked warrior than to show off. Of course, when he did reciprocate it would be with violence, but that was neither here nor there. For now, El Rey merely waited for his opponent to settle in the ring to the sound of a resounding boom. The final shockwave was enough to clear the fog and rattle the ropes, but not enough to brush away the Fifth Apocalypse.

“Xavier, is it?” Of course, El Rey knew the name of his opponent, this was a sanctioned match after all, but that was the only piece of information he knew. “Perhaps there’s some hope for this world yet.”

Though Mister Bloodbayne was an impressive specimen in his own right, six foot three inches tall and with a build like a small wall, it was nothing compared to the Fifth Apocalypse. At six feet and nine inches he towered over the other man; his weight class indeterminate beyond the words Super Heavyweight, but his build akin to something carved by the gods themselves. It was easy to see, what with the whole of his body being covered in tight black spandex that served to highlight every muscle; and though it may have looked like no protection at all, the truth was that second layer of skin was a gift from his god and it was in all probability the best suit of armor one could hope for. Enemies rarely focused on the undead perfection before them though, no, it was far more likely that Xavier zeroed in on the feral jaguar head resting between El Rey’s shoulders, with its mouth agape and fangs bared.

Without further ado, El Rey threw both of his hands out, each one hovering around his chest with the palm forward and fingers wide, an invitation for Xavier to reach out and grab his hands so that they might test their strength against one another. The Apocalypse carried no weapons on his person besides the obvious; hands and feet, claws and fangs, and that massive body of his; so, it only made sense that he would request a grappling match from the start. But what contest of strength could be fair when up against an enemy of his size and build? If Xavier did step up and scoop his hands at most he would find a moment of victory against the beast, before El Rey put his body to use and forced the man to a stalemate, and eventually his knees if he was truly found wanting. And yet even with a result as inevitable as that the man would be a coward not to accept.

The choice of course was his, and nobody said that in accepting Xavier couldn’t clever about it, but only time would tell. As they waited, one of the purple spots dotting El Rey’s costume sprang to life, bubbling outwards with a life of its own until a lidless and swollen eye had taken its place. It was the first subtle sign that El Rey was gathering power, and there would be many more to come.

Tezcatlipoca vs. Xavier Bloodboyne - #LUCHAGAMES

Rey de la Oscuridad II

Title Card

Name: Rey de la Oscuridad II
Title: The Fifth Apocalypse
Gender: Male
Alignment: Rudo
Height: 6'9"
Weight Class: Super Heavyweight
Wrestling Style: Saliendo Olvido

Theme: Lordi – The Devil Behind Her Smile

Description

-Mask

Rey de la Oscuridad wears a most unusual mask. While most lucha masks conform to the face of a man his contorts to that of a jaguar. Its mouth typically open and its fangs bared at the world, each one a sturdy white blade more than capable of punching through flesh and a predilection for doing just that. Frighteningly enough the mask seems to have a life of its own; though its mouth leads nowhere it reeks of blood and saliva, it is warm to the touch with a layer of soft fur over coarse black leather, and occasional deep throated growls escape from its throat. Purple dots line the scalp, cheeks, and everywhere else that isn’t its maw and eyes like pulsating stars glowing against the midnight sky. In stark contrast two pert black ears are set on either side of its skull, they rotate to follow sounds and to express emotion where its face cannot. In short, save for the readjustment of its spinal column, it looks as though a jaguar were decapitated and its head was set upon the shoulders of a man.

Only Rey's eyes are visible behind the mask and even those do not seem human, their cut too predatory and their tone too yellow, not to mention the rage…

-Everything Else

A barrel chested monster of a man with long muscular limbs and yet oddly well-proportioned despite that. He wears a black bodysuit over his frame, obscuring his entire body in a cast of night that is only broke up the same purple pinions that adorn his head. While his gloves and boots are clearly separate from the bodysuit they are also black, with the purple padding around each shin and forearm that ends at the adjacent joint, that being his elbows and knees. The only other break in his outfit is a massive purple eye set in the center of his chest, wide and circular with a vertical slit running down the center, and a tendency to dart about to track the approach of his opponents, sometimes it even goes so far as to blink but it never remains shut for very long.

Outside of the ring he wears fine black business suits, usually with purple undershirts or ties to fit with his color scheme, and sometimes for additional flavor he will come to ring with a cape of jaguar fur drifting in his wake.

Repertoire

-Moves

- Solo el Fuerte: Rey's skinsuit doubles as a suit of armor, lightweight but stronger than any made by man, and capable of turning all but the mightiest attacks. Subversive magics, psionic incursions, area of effect attacks, mundane firearms and probing attacks are but a few of the things that simply cannot harm him. By and large only committed offense can ever cause him to pause, after all, only those who are willing to face the darkness head-on can truly turn fate.

- Poder Apocaliptico: Rey's strength is such that he can reduce armored tanks to pulp and shatter buildings with a single thrust. Rey seems to scale to face any challenge and thanks to his incredible size he is usually stronger than other humanoids. He can be equaled by those of exceptional strength, but the mighty are few and far between, and he has never been outright overpowered by anyone in the same size category. So powerful is he, that he could even grapple the titans themselves if they dared stand across from him in the ring.

- Sombra en la Noche: Though Rey may be a large man he is remarkably fast. More than capable of dodging bullets and leaving race cars in the dust, combined with an uncanny sixth sense it is all but impossible to catch him off guard, instead forcing enemies to rely on their wits if they’re to fool him. Some say that he gains such speed by moving as a shadow flits across the wall and that he cannot be caught off guard because his eyes exist in every shadow, but surely those are just rumors?

- Que es un Hombre?: Even tanks take damage from time to time. But Rey's would not flinch even if he were to die again, legend has it that his body is not even alive and this second life is one part mockery and another part vengeance, whatever the case may be Rey does not feel pain. He can stop bleeding by willing it, command his flesh to move even with bones broken and tendons cut, bend at impossible angles and more.

- Garras de Jaguar: Rey is more than raw physical strength, more than a flesh fashioned into machine over a thousand years of training, he is a force of will. When he walks, there is an aura about him that induces a great chill, the lights darken and the weak cower, for without even realizing it even those without a sixth sense realize that the chosen of ferocious Tezcatlipoca stands in their wake. With the god’s blessing Rey is the apocalypse made manifest and can freely project it upon all who stand in his ways, either in the form of heated energy blast or shadowy constructs, whatever suits his imagination so long as he has the time and reserves to fashion it. Just as his vicious god draws power from destruction, fear, and darkness; so too does Rey it to make himself into the jaguar’s claws. Because this power is based upon his will it straddles the thin line between supernatural and outright magical, with it Rey is capable of striking across dimensions and dealing damage directly to the source of his foe, and in turn his power can only be snuffed out by a force of equal measure.

(tl;dr He’s a big angry undead cat man with a lot of anti-cheese powers, who tries to force everyone to fight him in powered melee. Think Lucha Underground meets Dragon Ball Z, lace up your boots, and get ready for a fight.)

-Costume

- Trono de la Oscuridad: Rey does not approve of weapons as he feels that a true warrior should transform their entire body into a weapon. However, he does have one which he brings with him everywhere, a simple black folding chair which he calls the Throne of Darkness. His throne can in turn appear from any patch of darkness of appropriate size. Stronger and harder than any chair has the right to be, the Throne has been used to break everything from bodies to buildings, it is however not unbreakable. The Throne can warp and bend if it encounters a particular strong will, one powerful enough to resist the psychosomatic power that drives its master, and of course will fade away on command.

However, when it is summoned next it will be repaired, for can one truly break the night?

-Finishing Move

- Fin del Mundo: Rey swings his opponent up onto his shoulders, back down and belly up, clutching their throat in one hand and their thigh in the other. After a few seconds of painful back breaking, during which he gathers all of his hateful power, Rey proceeds to drop to his rear. During which he rotates the opponent and drives them head first into the mat below and then in one brutal move he proceeds to compress their bodies(or whatever the equivalent they substitute it with is), breaking them utterly, or at the very least putting them out of commission until the next show.

This move is accompanied by a deep psychological effect that often breaks those who suffer it. For luchadore there is a natural defense against its effects due to the masks they wear, but other fighters will need to find another way to defend against the encroaching madness. If they survive the impact that is...

Hype

It is said that Rey de la Infinita Oscuridad was once poised to conquer the world of wrestling, he'd stripped the greatest lucha of their masks and united the world titles, and even went so far as to defeat the mighty gringo Wrasslor in one on one combat. Nobody was willing to stand up to him, or so he thought, until an alliance of young lucha with nothing to lose confronted him in the eleventh hour. Though many were lost the heroes were able to defeat him with fearless hearts and astounding techniques, until they finally finished off Rey by way of decapitation, and thus the Interdimensional Lucha Libre Alliance was formed; otherwise known as the Luchalliance.

But lo' even decapitation was not enough to end Rey's life, the first members of the Luchalliance knew this and so they locked it away in the deepest vault, never to see the light of day again. Now, the last of the original Luchalliance has died, and with his passing the return of their greatest evil. Nobody knows how he was freed but the vault was empty and a most scared grave desecrated. It is said that Rey stole the body of the one who delivered the final blow, El Rey Macho, and the only reason he has not yet conquered the wrestling world is because that heroic spirit is fighting him. But it is a losing battle and with every passing day Rey grows stronger, and yet the leaders of the Luchalliance refuse to believe it is true. They have declared him an upstart and turn a blind eye to his antics.

Regardless of what the case may be; Rey de la Oscuridad II is a very dangerous man.

Tezcatlipoca vs. Xavier Bloodboyne - #LUCHAGAMES

It is often said, that among warriors there are some things that can only be understood with violence. Some lessons that could only be taught by a pair of war torn knuckles, some grievances that only be paid in the shedding of blood, so on and so forth. It had been this way since the dawn of time itself. And for the Luchalliance, where all grievances big or small were settled in the squared circle before the audience and the gods, so it would remain.

And for this who had forgotten, this was to be a reminder.

And yet… among the Alliance, which encompassed most but not all masked wrestlers, and the Federation at large there were few bedfellows more strange than Rey de la Oscuridad II. None doubted his skill in the ring, and that was part of the problem, in a world where might made right there was no way to unseat a bloodthirsty tyrant without dancing to his tune. That he had chosen to participate in this war, this excursion into a foreign universe in order to do battle with an alien promotion, was both a blessing and a curse as far as the Alliance was concerned. For with him at their side there were few who doubted their ability to win, and yet there was no telling what the long-term cost of an alliance with El Rey would bring.

Even now, aboard the Masked Dreadnaught with its sweeping hull and gaudy prow, the other Luchador avoided him Why, even his tag team partner, Lobo Negro, only spoke to him as much as was necessary. He stood in the door, frame highlighted by the bright linoleum lights of the hallway, but could peer no more than three feet into the shadow cast locker room before him and only just make out the body of El Rey, seated on the edge of a table with his shoulders hunched and his body slouched, the faint sound of growls filling the air around him. “Do not worry, Lobos Negro, they fear what they cannot understand they mock what they fear,” His voice was a deep bass and his accent was thick. “For now, we kill the bravest among them and cripple the heard, and when the panic spreads we drive them into a corner.”

Lobos responded with a nod and a snarl, agreeing with El Rey’s logic and not liking it one bit. Just then the commissioner’s speech came to an end and with it, “The old man is as good at talking as ever, now I must take my leave.” When next Lobos blinked the locker room was empty…

Out in the sweeping plains of Fifth Barcelonia the ring and the arena were ready, there would be no audience today save for that watching at home, the only thing missing was a pair of champions. The lights winked out a moment later, the moon and the stars themselves shutting their eyes and casting the whole sector into darkness, and when they fluttered awake several times over, in the interlude El Rey appeared within the room standing tall. His theme music blared in the background with all of its edgy glory, the distorted pipe organ dominating the background before it was steadily joined by the guitars and the drums, while El Rey himself stood in the center of the ring with his arms folded. White fog drifted out from the space around him around and spilled out the ring until it the whole of the area was cast in a gloomy white blanket.