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Most users ever online was 390 on Tue Jan 02, 2018 2:02 pm
Champions & #1 contenders
FRICTION


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Cecilia Northman
#1 contender
Kyoko Akan


Tag team Champions
The Imperial Order
#1 contenders
Sonic Boom


Kawaii Champion
Claire St. Clair
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Hardcore Champion
Silver Ace
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???


Friction Hentai Champion
Minerva Larsen
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Ari Nagawa


Entropy Champion
Valley Doll
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Alicia Wells


Softcore Champion
Under Contention (in an elimination chamber)
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TENSION


Tension World Champion
Clyde Gastin
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Killer King & Reira Kirishima


Tension tag team champions
White Gale (Daisuke Kamiya & Sion)
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Abigail Adams & Jenny Quick


Tension Hentai Champion
Leo Fandero
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???


Tension 24/7 Champion
Vacant
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David Blake & Ryo Kamiya

The Austrailian Mudslide is Back.

Sat Apr 21, 2018 6:20 am by Softsquad


Granted that most of you won't know me or remember me, but I've had a few matches here and there some time ago. Well I think its time to become a regular around here and try to have some fun again, but at the same time keep coming back. Anyway I think its time to jump into some matches with Zoe Taylor, my mud wrestling character from Australia and get her back into the squared circle. Furthermore I will update my characters as I think some proper changes need to happen.

So if anyone would …

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Looking for a debut character match.

Fri Apr 20, 2018 7:44 pm by Tarantulust

Hello everyone,

I am looking for a match to debut my first character, Juno Sawyer, as well as get accustom to the site. I am mostly looking to solidify Junos character, and how she acts.

I would prefer to stay away from hentai right now, though a perverted character or action is fine is fine if its within reason. I don't expect it to be too long, but if you wish to add a rivelry or enemy spin to it I am open. If you are interested, feel free to reply or PM me.

Comments: 3

Looking for a storyline/rival thread.

Fri Apr 20, 2018 3:13 pm by Lotuswarrior

Looking for a storyline to start with any of my characters. I'm not expecting anything too long maybe the span of a few matches/other threads. This can be from friendly rival competition or our characters becoming enemies.

I'm not interested in hentai matches, but I'm ok with perverted characters/actions within reason of course. Let me know here if you're interested here and then we can move things to pms. I do have a number of characters so I'm willing to handle a few characters so don't …

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Seren Morgan vs. Abattoir - A Dark Place

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Seren Morgan vs. Abattoir - A Dark Place

Post by acuya on Mon Apr 09, 2018 6:59 pm



-VS-
Match Type: Hardcore
Victory Conditions:Victory by pinfall, submission, or KO


***

Who the hell was Seren Morgan?

The short answer: Seren Morgan was some woman that River Styx’s compatriot/teammate/best friend/fuckbuddy had gotten into a fight with not too long ago. That, in and of itself, wasn’t too noteworthy. Jessica was getting into fights with random people all the time. It was kind of her thing. Hell, that was how the two of them met, getting into a brawl over a card game and wrecking up the back room of a bar. It was one of the reason that Styx liked her so much, behind her attitude, fighting ability, her awesome tits, and a willingness to let her bum food from her fridge every so often.

Styx wouldn’t have normally cared too much about Seren Morgan, but then she heard the way that Jessica described her. ‘Crazy’ was the word that seemed to pop up most often in the conversation, along with descriptions of her strange look, her swift, but dirty fighting style, and her obsession with a damn doll, of all things. She’d been able to fight even with Jessica, more or less, and that was no mean feat. That warranted investigation, and there was only one proper way Styx could think to get her measure: a match.

It took some finagling - a few threats here and there, one of which she actually had to make good on in a secluded locker room - but Styx was able to get a match. Not with herself and Seren, as much as she would’ve been down for it. She was still in the doghouse for putting Silver Ace on the shelf for a while, suffering under an informal suspension.

But Abattoir? She was good. It had been a little too long since the ‘A’ in WAR had a proper match to cut her teeth on, with the both of them having to get by with underground bouts to stay sharp. From the sound of Seren, this would be the perfect opponent to step back into the real ring with.

Styx got to see what Seren was about, and if she disappointed, fuck her up for touching Jessica and for wasting her time.

Abattoir got a real opponent, which was one of the reasons she hung around Styx in the first place.

So, here they were. After having just made their shared entrance to the usual wave of boos and jeers, Styx grabbed a chair from under the ring and sat off near the timekeeper’s booth, sitting back with a bag of popcorn she’d swiped off some guy on the way to the ring. Abattoir, on the other hand, was inside the ring, doing some light stretches as her music began to die down.

She didn’t hear it. Didn’t hear the crowd. Didn’t hear any of it. All she really heard was a voice, deep down, calling to her. Something she hadn’t heard for a long while, dark and dormant, hoping it would have a chance to rise back up tonight. Unlike Styx, she’d tried to do some deeper digging into her opponent before this match, though all she’d managed to turn up was her one victory in the AFW so far. Still, that one match intrigued her - not because she’d won, but how she’d won.

Victory via ref stoppage.

Yes. There was potential, here.

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Re: Seren Morgan vs. Abattoir - A Dark Place

Post by Yori on Wed Apr 11, 2018 8:54 am


A small metallic slat was pulled to the side, clanking against the stopper. The small rectangular opening did very little to illuminate the room, but it had been enough illuminate the ground of her feet and cast a glow on her torn and dirtied pants legs. The light faded as something moved in front of it. She could make out the odd bending of light that looked to be a pair of glasses... someone was looking in at her.

A faint exchange of words in Japanese, she was unfamiliar with what was being said. After a few more moments of back and forth, one of the voices addressed her in crisp English. "Ms. Morgan. I am here on behalf of Mr. Sinclair to secure your release. They are currently finalize your paperwork now. Are you okay?"

What an interesting question. It had been three days since her arrest. She hadn't been made aware of time, or even seen the sun to confirm it. Her only marker was the hard futon laid out for her every evening and the one paltry meal of a handful of cold rice and a hard boiled egg.  When she wasn't made to stand in her cell, she had been held down, restrained, and interrogated for hours as to the identity of the woman in the park as well as her reasoning for assaulting an officer. They had been nice enough to actually shout at her in English, which was a pleasant change. She hadn't told them anything, of course. Even if she had all the information they wanted, she still wouldn't tell them anything. While the faces and places changed, the conditions better or worse, this was far from the first time she had been caged.

"Ms. Morgan? You understand me, correct? I was informed you do speak English. Are you okay? The officers informed you you received head trauma during the arrest and have not been properly treated."

"Yes." She muttered in an annoyed huff. She would have thought with time alone with just them, that a new voice would be a welcome one. She couldn't help but feel she was wrong. The mock concern in this man's force was sickening. He didn't know her. He didn't care about her. She was a means to fill his pocket by asking as a proxy mouthpiece for a man she never saw. Had there not been a door between them, she may have lashed out. It was hard to tell. The urges had been rather nagging with all this time at the mercy of her twisted mind.

"We're all set." The slat in the door clicked shut before she hurt the familiar clinks and clanks of latches coming undone and locks being opened. She squinted at the harshness of the light flooded into her cell, not bothering to raise one of her hands to shield herself. She trudged slowly to the opening, stopping just outside to turn to face the officer accompanying the attorney who had come for her. It was a familiar face, one that had been there every day she had been interrogated and every night when the futon was tossed into the cold damp cell.

Her chapped crackled lips parts in a wide grin as she leaned in close, and they in turn inched back. "I'll remember you. I promise." She hissed softly with the tail end of her sentence. The attorney reached out, nearly laying a hand on her shoulder, but he paused and lowered it. he had likely been instructed not to lay a finger on Seren. A a good precautionary bit of advice his handler must have given him. She went willingly as they moved away, heading down the long corridor to collect her personal effects.

The holding cell officer watched the two depart quietly, unable to shake the cold chill entangling his spine. He took a deep breath, peering back into the solitary holding cell. They had made her scrub it clean the the first night, but every time they had left her for too long, it had returned. They had just decided to let it remain until she was gone. He shook his head, not wanting to be left alone for too long here. Across every wall in different style of handwriting was scrawled  "Marilyn Monroe", once in the sanguine ink of Seren's own creation, now a dull crusted brown-black hue from days of neglect. The officer banished it all back to darkness as he sealed the door back up, hoping to forget.


I Can't Fix You - The Living Tombstone:
Seren Morgan:

As the sounds of a winding down music box hit the speakers the crowd fell deathly silent, little more than murmurs. One by one the lights in the area snapped out leaving it in complete darkness for but a moment. There was an occasional flicker of light along the stage and ramp, the infrequent strobe effect cutting on and off which gave her the appearance of closing sudden distance each time she was visible. Behind dragged a long bike chain of what appeared to be chibi dolls two of which seemed specially designs to represent particular people curly haired blond doll, a bundled up doll in a bright red sweater with violet hair, and what looked to be a little police officer with its eyes sewn into Xs.

Her music blared, bass thumping through the speakers like a beating heart obscuring the rattle of the chain as the small plushie creations bounced and dragged across the grating. She received no jeers, nor cheers. A deathly silence from onlookers who seemed all too aware her matches sometimes spilled out into the crowd and hadn't always ended well for those in her warpath be them other wrestlers or fans. hand in hand with her as always was Baby, a larger doll than the others, droopily sagging in her gasp as she moved along the ramp.

As she reached the edge of the ring, the strobe gradually slowed as Seren stopped to stare at Abattoir with sunken unblinking eyes. On one side of her face was faint off color splotches, the remains of some freshly healing burn that almost seemed to be gone. Fresher was the stitching her in scalp, obscured by her wild unkempt hair. She watched her opponent with interest, head tilting to the side at a steep angle almost birdlike in nature. There hadn't been much time for the two to share with eyes fixated on one another until both her music and the lights died completely. When the house lights came back up, Seren stood in the ring as if she had been there the whole time, in the same exact position she had been in when the lights went out. She remained this way for some time, taking in the odd sight of the woman before her, like so many others, interested in her choice of face gear.

She moved back with a surprising spring in her step, heading off to a far corner. removing the chain from her thigh belt, she arranged Baby and the chibi's neatly in the corner as if they were a small audience, her adoring fans. The way in which they were staged was meticulous, needing to be just right until she was satisfied. Rising back to her full height, she hadn't bothered to return back to the middle of the ring. There was no real point. Days she had been pent up, before her cell, it had been weeks since AFW had shackled her with rules. This though, this was her playground now. No rules. No stopping. No mercy. She was looking forward to making Abattoir the newest member of her collection.

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Re: Seren Morgan vs. Abattoir - A Dark Place

Post by acuya on Wed Apr 11, 2018 3:56 pm

”Hm.”

Abattoir generally tuned out during her opponent’s entrances, preferring to temporarily go to a happy place where her eardrums weren’t be assaulted by whatever pop music her foe chose to come out to. Her own music tastes were eclectic, but she tended to prefer them on the dark, deeper, less ear-scratching side. Without dubstep.

The sugary, saccharine music that came out of the speakers next was an odd choice. The woman who accompanied that music was odder still

Abattoir looked on and uncanny silence came over the arena, hailing her foe’s slow, shadowed strut towards the ring. It was hard to make her out, flickering in and out view, but the nak muay could tell that Seren wasn’t coming alone to the ring. Something was trailing behind, dragged along the floor like an ungainly tail, and she couldn’t tell exactly what until the lights came on and she materialized inside the ring.

Plushies. This woman was dragging dolls around.

Their two heads tilted to the side in unison as they both took the time to look each other over with keen, quiet interest. Abattoir wouldn’t say she liked Jessica - she wouldn’t say she liked anyone, really - but she did respect the woman’s strength and wrestling prowess, enough that it made her curious how Seren had been such a thorn in her side. She wasn’t poorly built, but her build was much closer to Abattoir’s than a bruiser like Styx. A speedier type? A high-flyer? Submissions? Strikes?

Questions she pondered as Seren went about her strange business, taking off her dolls and setting them in the corner, creating her own, personal audience and giving them the best seat in the house. Her right eyebrow raised a couple of inches at the sight, but she lowered it soon after. Strange, yes, but she wasn’t one to judge such things, and she’d been in the AFW long enough to know eccentricity didn’t mean much to skill.

Could she fight? Was she worthy? Would this be a good battle to sink her teeth into, after waiting so long? The only questions that mattered right now.

Abattoir had stood stockstill as Seren finished things up, but she resumed movement the instant the bell rang - though it wasn’t much. Tempting as it was to move in quick and start aggressive, she was going against an unknown quantity, and that warranted caution. Instead of taking the stance of her style, she raised her arms in a more traditional grappling stance and came towards Seren with slow, measured steps, wanting to see how this queer woman would react. She would save the heavier artillery until she knew where to properly apply it. Until then? Reconnaissance.

From the sidelines, Styx looked on, arms folded, rubbing her chin, not sure what to make of all this. Seren was either on the crazy side or doing a good job of faking it for effect, but then again, she could say about the same thing for Abattoir. It would make for an entertaining brawl, if nothing else, and it cemented her decision to just sit back and watch. For the time being, at least.

She also couldn’t help but notice that one of those dolls bore a striking resemblance to a certain Violent Violet, and she doubted that Abattoir failed to notice it, either. There was a lot of weird in that ring.

”Hm.”

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Re: Seren Morgan vs. Abattoir - A Dark Place

Post by Yori on Mon Apr 16, 2018 12:40 am

It wasn't out of the ordinary for Seren to go for long stretches of time without much sleep. Though, when she knew she would need to be physically active, it became more of a priority but was never something she was assured. Still, slumber was something that often times eluded her. She could lay herself down and close her eyes, but it only really came when it wanted. It hadn't come to her much this last week. Between her three nights spent under the less than charitable roof of the NPA and one day of recovery in which she had received very little comfort laying face down in a couch for half of it, it was safe to say she was a bit unhinged at the moment. That wasn't to say she was ever truly in a great state of mind, but that wasn't something to really be discussed outside of a psychiatrist office. Despite the lingering fatigue, she felt more lively than usual, something about being locked up for several days getting screamed at by people she couldn't maim had left her a bit riled. Who would have thought. Luckily for Abattoir, The Doll Maker would more certainly be a worthy challenge. Unluckily for her, she intended to take out her pent up frustrations on the masked stranger.

She hadn't blinked once since stepping into the ring, the only time her sunken eyes had even left Abattoir was when she had positioned her cheerleaders, along them the most prestigious Marilyn Monroe. The connection between her opponent, the woman ringside, and Jessica was one she wasn't aware of. While it ultimately wouldn't have helped the woman, it may have provided the two of them with a slightly more lively exchange before the match began. As it stood, the only think she wanted from Abattoir was her blood, her screams, and possibly that mask she wore. Not that she had much interest in the mask itself, but what was beneath it had been a thing of interest she wished to revisit once she had broken the girl thoroughly.

The ring bell pierced the arena air, leaving her to watch as Abattoir as the woman sank into a rather uninteresting grappling pose. Disappointing, but not something she was willing to discount just yet. She had faced others who failed to live up to expectations until they had been pushed. While she wanted a bit more from someone as intriguing looking, she was willing to give  the girl time. Heel to toe she slowly made her approach, arms outstretched to either side as if walking a tightrope. It seemed no matter how straight her posture, her head was always slightly off center giving her the appearance of moving at an odd angle. While it may have been hard to hear, she was humming softly, a melody that sounded as if it were more welcome at a ballroom waltz or a jewelry box tune that played as a small ballerina figurine twirled slowly.  Before she had even gotten half way to her opponent, she broke off, tilting to the side like a human airplane to duck out under the top rope and drop to the floor. Gripping the apron, she hoisted the advertisement laden cloth up, rooting around under the ring for something of worth.

Additional ring ropes? Too unwieldy. Metal framework? Welded on. Tables? No. Chairs? Boring.

This will do.

Seren withdrew a pry bar from underneath the ring. Why was it here? Likely as a took to assist tightening up the turnbuckle rigging past the limitations of human hands. She was going to give it a new use here tonight however. She held it firmly, familiarizing herself with the surprising weight behind the dense metal tool. She threw the apron cloth up, letting it flutter dramatically back to it's natural resting place as she rose up again, eyes flicking over the arena to find her target and begin to slowly stalk her way over. She was still humming, she hadn't stopped this whole while.

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Re: Seren Morgan vs. Abattoir - A Dark Place

Post by acuya on Mon Apr 16, 2018 2:09 am

The two of them squared off, Abattoir’s knuckles tensed, she started to move forward with the intent to engage. There was something unmistakably queer about the way she moved, the dead look in her eyes, and was that humming she heard? The nak muay grew more cautious with each step, not having the faintest clue what would happen when they met, but looking forward to the surprise.

Insted, she got nothing.  Fucking nothing.

Abattoir looked on, understandably surprised when her opponent seemingly abandoned the meeting and made for the ropes. Having a foe run away from her wasn't a completely new experience, but that most often occurred after she’d done something. Never before. Her first instinct was just to stand there and let her go wherever she was going - Abattoir would either avoid chasing Seren around for no good reason or keep herself from falling into a trap. Sensible, either way. The high ground was hers, why lose it.

She rethought that choice when she sussed out exactly what Seren was doing, however. Her eyelids narrowed and her brow furrowed when the apron went up. Not an uncommon sight in a hardcore wrestling match. But so soon? Before they had even touched each other?

Sure. Okay. She was game.

Abattoir made her way to the opposite side of the ring, ducked down, and promptly rolled underneath the ropes, making her way to the outside without a single wasted motion. She tossed the skirt up and rooted about as Seren mirrored her on the opposite side of the ring, getting startled, but pleased shouts from the audience, along with the obligatory chants.

”WE WANT TABLES! WE WANT TABLES!”

They would not be getting tables. Not yet. Abattoir was more of a mind to find a striking weapon, but the choices were lacking on her side. Fire extinguisher? Too clumsy. Kendo stick? Not enough bite. Dildo? Absolutely not.  She was about to settle for a chair - boring was better than empty-handed - when her eyes caught something more interesting, just off to the side.

When she let the skirt fall back down, she was brandishing a length of chain, around six feet long, solid steel. She had some of it wrapped around her fist, clenched tight for a decent blugeon, while the rest dragged at her side, clinking along as she walked. She could see that Seren had found an interesting little toy herself. A crowbar? Not a bad choice. Likely what Abattoir would’ve gone for if she’d rolled that way.

She made her way around the ring, watching Seren from the corner of her eye as they neared each other, never letting her leave sight for a single second. As she neared her foe, she began to spin the chain about at her side, building momentum with every turn, but she didn’t strike quite yet. Instead, she hung back a few steps, daring Seren to move inside her range.

Closer. Just a little closer...

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