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Finally getting into this.

Tue Mar 19, 2019 6:48 pm by GreatForce

Alright guess I should start to actually rp and get into the game!

So Shibita is pretty much ready and roaring to go for her first match if anyone is interested.

As for Kogeki my sumo girl! I kind of want to introduce her more gradually to the AFW. Instead of just throwing her into a match right off the bat. Maybe a backstage or gym rp showing her the ropes around the AFW and maybe even gaining a friend or enemy!

Hit me up with a PM if your

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A new fighter has emerged...

Fri Mar 15, 2019 8:51 pm by Cicilia

Heya! I'm looking for people interested in fighting my newest character Raul! His character profile is at the bottom of my signature AND, just a note, he does not do hentai. regular wrestling is on da table though x3

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Looking for a match.

Fri Mar 15, 2019 7:11 pm by Chaos

Looking for a match for Camelia. Her profile is in bellow.

In case you are interested, contact me through PMs or Discord (ChaosDeku #7157), for further discussion.

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Tension Rookie Tournament: Harper Williams vs Drake Fond

AFW :: Tension :: PPV

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Re: Tension Rookie Tournament: Harper Williams vs Drake Fond

Post by Tarantulust on Tue Dec 25, 2018 8:22 am

Sadly, it was Drakes business to make other fighters see red most of the time.  He knew the power a person could have over someone else when they were able to worm their way into the poor soul’s psyche, and if used properly, that bug in the brain could lead to a massive pay off. It could land a valuable deal, break a person into giving some valuable intel, or in this case, make a very capable fighter get sloppy.

Drake was well aware of his many shortcomings in the brawling area. He had an obvious blind spot, his preferred method of fighting was brutal and unfair, and he himself relied heavily on tricks and reading an opponent in order to get even the slightest bit of an advantage.  In short, he was the type that many would label “Cowardly”. He was just as likely to shake your hand as stab you in the back, and the fact that he dug deep into his targets history only made him and his tactics more effective. His clothes, his mannerisms, even the way he talked all served as a distraction, keeping his foe’s focus away from the cruelest weapon in his arsenal.

His sharp, silver tongue.

And Harper fell for it. Many often did. The young belle had thrown caution to the wind and jumped right into Drake’s web, her rage making her short sighted and impulsive. She packed much more power than he expected, even after his copious amount of research into her fighting background. The hook forced him to stumble, and she had succeeded in removing the smug smile that seemed glues to his pale face, though he quickly recovered and returned the blow. Her anger made her defense close to nonexistent, letting the punch score just fine. His punch was far from that of a trained professional, but underneath his heavy coat hid powerful muscle that helped add to the savagery of the hook. The adorable belle was caught completely unaware, and much like Drake, she stumbled after taking the hit head on. Drake was not one to pass up an opportunity, and quickly moved in looking to capitalize on Harpers stupor.

But Harper was still a rather excitable individual, and she seemed to bounce back from the attack rather quickly, lunging at Drake with a passionate fury in her eyes. The one-eyed man was in the middle of a kick, looking to stomp the once stunned brawler to the ground and mount an early offense, but his raised leg served to give him poor balance, and so Harpers spear was easily enough to take him right down to the ground.

Drake could feel Harper on top of him, even through his thick jacket. Her body was restricting his movements, and with her positioning there was no way to get inside his jacket without sacrificing an arm that would be better used defensing himself or mounting a counter offense. Drake’s face was an irritated but blank mask, but his eye seemed to light up, no longer cold or calculating, but clearly her presence on top oh him got a reaction. Drake stored quite a few of his dirty little tricks in his jacket. Having his easy access taken away from those vile contraptions easily upset the red and black attired man.

GET OFF OF ME!

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Re: Tension Rookie Tournament: Harper Williams vs Drake Fond

Post by Berial on Sun Jan 06, 2019 4:49 am

Harper couldn’t sleep. There was just something nagging her in the back of her head, playing at her ears every time she closed her eyes again. Maybe it was the sound of grasshoppers and coyotes just outside. Maybe it was the incredibly rare sound of rain beating against the roof, tapping against her window in the dark of the night. Maybe it was the way the house creaked and settled as the downpour kept coming on, making the whole place seem so unfamiliar. Or maybe it was all the chatter from downstairs.

She didn’t think much about it at first. The house was full of noise back when her brothers were still around. If anything, the silence that filled the place for the past few weeks was what felt out of place. But the voices she was hearing weren’t familiar ones. They were gruff, stern, lacking in tone or color. They echoed through the house like white noise from her television.

Then she heard someone shout, and something fall to the ground.

It forced her eyes open, but this time with a rush of adrenaline in her veins. Her heart beat inside of her chest as she sat up in her bed. She threw the covers off and stepped out of bed. Her baggy shirt draped down past her thighs, covering a little bit from the cool air that drifted between her shins as she walked to the door. She pushed it open with a creak and took careful steps forward to the top of the stairs.

“Daddy?”
The chatter stopped. She heard a bit of shuffling, then the sound of a chair screeching made against the floor. “Daddy?”

Her dad rounded the corner. He looked up the stairs, then immediately faced the floor, shaking his head with his hands on his hips. “Ah, hell…” He muttered to himself, walking slowly up the stairs to her. “Did we wake you, sweetpea?”

“Who was yellin’?”

“It was me. Stepped on a tack. Know how it is.” He kneeled down and looked up at her.

Harper sighed with a small smile. “I told you to pull that thing out. S’gonna put you in crutches one day. Wish Felix had done it before he left.”

“Yeah.”
He snickered. “But you’re tough. Maybe ya can help me with that soon, alright?”

Her face brightened at that. “Sure, pa.” She said nothing for a moment, tilting her head to the side. “Everything okay, daddy?”

He blinked. “Course. Everything’s going to be fine, sweetpea.” He kissed her on the forehead. “Why don’t you run on to bed, now? Got a long day tomorrow.”

She nodded and walked back to her door, but once she had her hand on the knob, she looked over her shoulder and noticed her dad had already gone back downstairs. She walked back into the room, but kept the door open a crack. Her hands stayed on the knob as she pressed her head against the door, keeping one ear against the opening.

“Is something the matter, Mr. Williams?”

“Nah.” The chair screeched again. “Just hurry this shit up.”

“Now, we can arrange to have your valuables moved next month, but we require a signature soon. We’ll begin by seizure of livestock, then non-essentials-”


“SHUT UP!” Harper’s voice pierced through the arena as she raised her fist high and brought down onto Drake’s face. She dispelled his words with her own, not wanting to hear a single thing that slipped free from that venomous mouth of his. The Arizonan was quick to fix the position she was in, shuffling up to straddle his waist and keep him pinned underneath her. This man was dangerous in his own way. Harper wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box, but she could piece that together at the very least. She’d like to say this was part of some grand strategy. Keep him underneath her where she could keep an eye on him.

That couldn’t be further from the truth, though. She was seeing red everywhere, unable to stop her body from moving on its own, not that she wanted it to. There wasn’t a single thing the young belle cared about tonight more than the man in the center of her gaze. His words still rang in her ear, digging up those recent memories mound by mound, spade by spade. They had to go back where they belong. He had to go back where belonged. Devils didn’t belong on Earth.

The tackle felt good, and this was going to feel even better. She raised one fist and threw a punch towards Drake’s face, not giving a damn whether or not he blocked it before she raised her other fist and threw another punch. Then another. Then another, sending a furious hail his way. “Think you can jus’ do whatever y’all please?! Think I won’t tan your damn hide?!” She doubled on her left stroke, hitting him with a furious double tap. “I’mma make the floor match yer getup, you fuckin’ snake!” Her ground and pound didn’t lose a pace, didn’t miss a beat. Her sole intention was to turn Drake’s arrogant gaze into a pile of mush on the canvas.

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Re: Tension Rookie Tournament: Harper Williams vs Drake Fond

Post by Tarantulust on Thu Jan 10, 2019 11:10 pm

Well, what rather delicious turn of fate. For the first time in a long, long time Drake had mistaken the character of his opponent. Harper had exceeded his expectations, proving to him that there was a boiling fury underneath that sweet and small exterior the likes of which could only come through years and years of simmering underneath an emotional lid. Drake had just turned up the heat and tossed that barrier away, and now it was overflowing all over him. The smiling little Harper was gone, now replaced with an emotional brat that sadly still had the cognition to scream out her stupid sayings and throw a wicked punch.

Harpers proximity was rather uncomfortable, Drake preferring to keep his foes at a distance if he could manage, and push them away when they got too close. He couldn’t escape at the moment, not with her straddled on his waist and her blows raining down on him like a mountain of hail. For the moment, he was stuck, with only his arms to protect him from the thunderous strikes meant to turn his face to mush. Naturally, his defense seemed to focus on his eye, his arms constantly shifting around to insure the blows did not reach his only instrument of sight, sacrificing other areas to the beating to insure its safety.

Though Drake’s body was essentially restrained, only a fraction of his attention was given to his defense. Harpers Rage made her punches pack power, but lack subtlety or thought. It seemed to devolve into a simple ground and pound tactic, which was not an uncommon tactic for his style of fighting. His mind was almost completely free to think and plan, looking for a way out of his current predicament. He did not dare go for any of his tricks in his jacket now. Sacrificing an arm to reach into his jacket would be suicidal, his arms stinging from every punch they took in place of his face. Harpers fists were like stone, and she would not give up anytime soon. Not until Drake was hurt, and her hatred satisfied.

The devil had many tactics to seduce a poor soul…namely giving them what they wanted most. Drake would oblige Harper in a similar way.

Ms. Williams! Stop this! His tone was sharp, harsh even. His irritation at getting trapped underneath her clawing its way to top that cold, business tone. And yet, at the end was laced with something else. Something so subtle, only ones sub-conscious would even bother to pick it up. It appeared at the first syllable and died as Drake finished his sentence.

More blows came uninterrupted. Harpers blue eyes still glaring down at him like trash as she wailed into him without a second thought. One fist slipped by, smashing into Drakes blind side completely, rocking his head the opposite direction, his defense correcting itself to continue to keep his good eye safe.

Ms. Williams! Harper, you-! Stop!

There it was again. Frustration and pain were in those words, certainly. However, something else was laced inside, bubbling about as the Arizonian continued to pound away. More punches slipped in, two hammering his blind side while another snuck underneath and nailed him clean in the jaw. One of Drake’s arms were slipping away from his good eye, like he was reasoning with himself to start defending the other areas of his face, his eye peeking out and becoming more open.

An opening defense. Something he was sure an enrage fighter would take advantage of. It would be a few more seconds that felt like minutes into the pounding before Drake decided to speak again. Right after Harper landed a bunch on the side of his good eye.

Harper!?!?

There it was. What those in power always desired to hear from there enemies. Desperation, fear, helplessness all wrapped up into a single word. The eye underneath the defensive arm was wide with fear and concern, watching each of Harpers attacks frantically, as if trying to guess which one will try and come down on it next. His business-like smile was gone, replaced with a tooth bearing frown that seemed to hide behind his arms.

The frown would no last as yet another punch smashed right against his jaw, moving his head to the side again. As discreetly as he could, he bit down on the side of his lip, drawing a fresh stream of blood to roll down his lip before moving his head back to face Harper. His arms were getting bruised and sore, but he needed to keep going a while longer.

The arm that began to slip away from his good eye seemed focused on defending his blind spot, whatever good that did. More punches flew in, his defense taking more of a beating and yet another blow smacking his blindside.

Harper! Please! Don’t-! I-ah-I was wrong! I shouldn’t have said that! I went too far! Please…DON’T-!!!

There it was, the punch he was looking for. Specifically, Harpers incoming right. It didn’t matter if it was as forceful s the other punches or weaker. Drake had purposefully moved his arm aside, as if to appeal to the Arizonian, his expression one of a poor, pleading man.

Time slowed down. At least, that’s how it felt. Drake’s eye, which had seen the blow coming since she lifted her arm, turned slowly towards the fist, acting out surprise as it came cascading towards it. Drake’s arms, which were put in front of him as if to both protect himself and plead mercy from harper, retracted back, his left hand open, obscuring Harpers vision…his right hand closed. All the could be inferred was that Harpers fist was about to make contact with Drake’s face, on the side of his good eye and then…

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"


Drake let out a blood curdling scream that seemed primal in its pain. His hands quickly clasped around his eye as he thrashed about violently underneath Harper. As he thrashed, something rolled away from the fighters about a foot away.

“Holy shit.” The referee could hardly be heard over Drakes whimpers of pain, but she turned a dead white as she stared at what had rolled away.

Staring at Harper and her downed foe was an eye. Cold, lifeless, and familiar, it was small, but immediately recognizable for what it was. It could be nothing else but Drake’s eye.

I…I-I can’t see?….it’s so black…I can’t see…

Or…was it really?

The referee turned around, presumably to vomit elsewhere. Hardly anyone outside the ring could see what was going on, and were confused by what exactly just happened. Some audience members Jeered Drake for crying over something like a punch, while others cheered the Arizonian for making a jerk like him holler like that.

But what happened next was quick, fast enough that if one looked away for a second, they would have missed it.

Drake sat up, his eye still very much in his skull, and fired off a powerful cross aimed right for the scar on the bridge of Harper’s nose. His other arm moved to grasp her shoulder and toss her off of him, the eye that was on the floor still staring at both of them as the sudden attack transpired.

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Re: Tension Rookie Tournament: Harper Williams vs Drake Fond

Post by Berial on Fri Feb 08, 2019 5:55 pm

Harper didn’t care. She didn’t care to hear any of it. She didn’t care how much he begged, she didn’t care if the referee was telling her to stop, she didn’t care if the crowd thought she was taking things further than they ever needed to go. She didn’t even care if her pop was watching her right now a million miles away on the other side of the world.

All she could see was Drake’s face. His eye staring through her, those words tearing her asunder again and again. But above all was that smile. That smile, that damn smile. Even when it wasn’t there she saw it. She kept pounding away with renewed vigor, her biceps flaring and arms pumping to their full power as one resounding clap after another echoed out from the ring to be met with either roars in applause or reserved winces from the sea of onlookers surrounding the havoc.

And he still begged her to stop. Like some coward.

“Shut up.” She punched him hard. “Shut. Up.” Twice that time, just as hard. “Shut up!” Even harder that time. Harper felt her arm growing stiff and numb, but her body kept moving on its own, striking with every last reserve, moved by every word the man beneath her continued to let free. “Too late fer all that, spineless piece of shi-!”

A blood-curdling shriek stopped her dead in her tracks. “Wha-?” She saw the eye. For one second, her mind refused to accept what she was seeing. It didn’t seem real, outside of reality. But slowly it drew her in, the hollow pupil staring darkness into her and the young belle found herself unable to look away for the longest time. A deathly silence fell on the ring. Even the official beside them stood stalk still and terrified, gazing wide-eyed at Harper with her hands to her mouth. What had she done?

It couldn’t be real.

Had she really just done that? Was this that thing her pa talked about? About ‘not knowing her own strength’? For a moment, for a flash of a second, there was genuine concern. Her eyes turned to Drake, writhing and weak on the floor.

“...h...hey...”

Then a punch knocked all that concern clean out of her, fizzling the distress out as quickly as it came. Unfortunately, she didn’t have room to be angry. Drake’s knuckles dug into her nose, jabbing the sensitive skin and sinew from her scar, her senses leaving her momentarily. One instant she was ramrod stiff, the next Drake had thrown her flat onto her back. Harper probably should have been worried about that, worried he’d take the advantage, maybe return the favor by pounding her into dust this time around. He clearly knew how to use his fists. That would be the last thing she needed.

Too bad that wasn’t where her mind was. The second her back hit the floor, her hands were pressed to her face, kicking her heels against the floor. It was more than just the initial pain, there was phantom pain there too, some old memories of when she’d first lost that skin years ago flooding back into her mind. The experience ran through her head again, like reliving half of a nightmare, and all she could do was whine like a baby on the floor, a lone streak of red running down from her nostril.

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Re: Tension Rookie Tournament: Harper Williams vs Drake Fond

Post by Tarantulust on Mon Feb 25, 2019 9:02 pm

Drake’s fist had impacted flesh, and the annoying barrage of fists had finally stopped impacting against him in a stunning moment of peace. Hardly anyone said a thing due to the shock of what just happened, but the quite was a welcome relief for the man who had just taken a violent beatdown. He was used to being the one to kick others while they were down, but he was not unfamiliar with being on the receiving end of a raging fighters seething hate. Years of practice helped him stay at least somewhat calm under pressure, and it had saved him time and time again.

His cold, calculating eye didn’t even spare Harpers body a glance as he tossed her off the top of him and heard her impact against the canvas. It felt nice getting the weight off his chest, able to move freely about once again without the threat of a fist bouncing off his skull. His jaw felt as if it had been wacked with a hammer several times, and the side of his head was pounding…but he would live. His eye was safe and unharmed, his acting ability selling the strikes perfectly while insuring his visions safety. Now a whole new matter was about to begin.

With a hiss of pain, Drake began ascend to his feet. His arms were still sore and there was a slight fog in his head, but nothing he couldn’t think through or hinder his plans. Drake did take the time to scoop up his false eye, one of the many in his collection. This one just so happened to look like his original, a perfect decoy for one of his more sinister tricks that had just gone off perfectly. After finally placing the eye in one of his many pockets, his real optic scrolled over to admire Harpers whining form, kicking and whimpering like a wounded animal.

The calculating eye narrowed inside the hollow mask that was Drake’s expression.

Y’know, Ms. Harper…I try not to take things personally…the things said and done in here, its all strictly business to me.

His tone was much like the casual business speak he had at the start of the match, with a nice hint of smug hiding underneath. His sudden shift from scared and pleading to this simply proved it was all a calculated act to pull at Harpers mercy.

Your Daddy, Pa, or whatever you want to call him with your weird sayings, is a sad, pathetic man, sure…but I don’t care too much about that. I’ll forget all about him. Just like everyone else. He will be a small smear on your family history as he went from living on a wide open and prosperous farm to dying in a small, constraint apartment surrounded by a concrete jungle.

Drake had found his way over towards Harpers form, and stood over her like a critical demon. His eye stared at her with none of the pity she had for him a moment ago, only a small strand of anticipation and planning could be inferred from the intense gaze.

His leg retreated a few inches, then came rushing in like a freight train, looking to smash right into Harpers ribs as she coddled her bleeding nose, as if Drake was going to wait forever. His kick was cruel, but practiced. It was clear Drake had experience literally kicking foes when they were down. As he did so, that smile began to crawl back from whatever void Harper hoped to banish it to.

But Daddy isn’t the only one I know about…it takes two, right? Mama didn’t last too long, did she? Not really much to say, but ever since I heard about your family, I wondered if her passing was a blessing to your father, and to you in a way.

Another swift kick came to punctuate Drake’s cruelty. It was clear that despite the damage to his jaw, his will to speak overpower any discomfort he might be feeling. Even as he spoke, one of the Drake’s hands slipped into his jacket, fishing out something he had been hiding inside since he had walked in. What he retrieved was a simple black bag, held close by a thing piece of thread.

Your mother never had to deal with the embarrassment of losing her home. Never had to see your father waste away like a dying weed, s complete failure. She doesn’t even have to worry about her small blonde daughter coming home with a fresh set of scars on her face and a bloody nose to attend to… I guess we can just chalk that up as a “win”.

Without looking away from his foe, he undid the thread, and poured out the contents right on top of Harper. Thumbtacks and pushpins spilled all over the floor as well as her frame. The pointed bits of metal harmlessly bounced around, but the even the slightest amount of pressure would promise a stinging bite. They were new, clean and shining in the arenas lights as dozens of pieces of pointed metal now lay scattered on the floor. Drake’s stared at his trap, kicking a pins to the side to spread them out a bit more efficiently, confident his thick jacket would protect him from his own scheme, while tearing at Harpers bare skin, should she be unfortunate enough to fall again..

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