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Brittany (Major Beats) Lewis gets squashed.

Fri Jun 11, 2021 9:15 am by Lotuswarrior

Its been a long time and I thought I'd see how things are going. So I figured I'd help someone out with putting someone over. Looking for a heavyweight or some heel to show off what they can do to another person. Got a big match coming up and want to highlight certain traits/skills with your wrestler then I'd help you with those.

I don't expect the match to be long, but not a complete squash match. Kinda want Brittany to piss off her opponent by dancing around the ring and avoiding being hit, …

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In need of a debut match for two heavyweights.

Tue Jun 01, 2021 10:17 pm by LunarOcean

So I've officiallly returned. I'm currently limiting my wrestling activities to two heavyweight wrestlers, Ionel and Amandine. Iodel is the priority right now and I'm looking for a match with her and any heavyweights out there. It will definitely be a hentai one with knock out and verbal submission as alternate win conditions. It will involve a lot of body to body friction and pressing and I prefer it if both parties are okay with that kind of thing. Bikinis are preferred but one pieces too if …

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In Need of Debuts

Thu Jun 10, 2021 8:15 am by Tick Tock

Hello there. I'm in need of debuts for my wrestlers, that you can find here. I'm down for normal single/tag matches to start, but promos/ambushes/angles also work with me. PM me here or message me on Discord(Frog#0076) if you are interested.

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Night of the Dragon

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Night of the Dragon Empty Night of the Dragon

Post by Berial Sat May 22, 2021 10:35 pm

Club Midnight was a stupid name. For any venue, frankly. It wasn't the type of locale that Margaux would prefer to spend her peaceful Saturday evening. Not when her jacuzzi was still bubbling and her fridge. There was only one reason she would come within ten feet of this disgusting place: business. That ever irksome aspect of international crime.

Yakuza were intrinsically cautious when it came to dealing with foreigners. The only place she could meet them was on their territory. Up until this point, her Japanese accounts had been managed relatively well. But out of the blue, her advisor had switched hands, and the new delegate for her accounts was being rather...difficult about working with outsiders. Suddenly, the Madame found herself in a situation that would have never come to pass from her seat in Paris. No, this was all quite out of character for her.

Margaux had to go and make peace.

This? This is exactly why she had a policy to make murder a spectacle.

Saturday Night Fever:
Night of the Dragon Ij3RdbB

A silver lining: Tokyo nights were very resplendent in midsummer. The air maintained a perfect consistency between blanketing warmth and refreshing cool air. Margaux couldn't help but breathe in a taste of the night as she walked down the main street. So many other Tokyo residents enjoyed these nights too. Club Midnight had a queue wrapping around the corner because of that. It would take hours to get in for the average constituent. Thank Heavens she was receiving the VIP treatment. As far as filthy Japanese thugs went at least. At the front door, she was stopped by a red velvet rope and a tall, burly man in a flashy suit with a colorful tie. The eye of an ancient dragon peered out at her from underneath his sleeve, the jaws of a fierce tiger from the other.

The pinkette adjusted her collar and stepped forward into the yakuza’s towering shadow. His eyes peered down at her and remained as still as stonework. Margaux could do little but stare for a moment, before her pink lips parted, and uttered: "Did Hattori Hanzo come to visit?"

The bouncer raised a brow and looked the Frenchwoman up and down. Not what he was expecting, evidently. "No. Ieyasu will arrive by the river."

The Japanese man stepped to the side and parted the velvet rope for her. "Fourth table on the left balcony. Enjoy the sake."

Margaux smiled back to him and bowed her head to him before stepping into the fog and lights beyond the doorway. Upon entering her nose permeated with the stench of sweat and cigars. Her tongue tasted alcohol on every bud. Reality's colors became saturated and enshrouded in a light blue tint beyond the shuffling shadows all around her.

To her left past the sea of shuffling bodies, she could make out the stairwell highlighted with thin glowing trails of alternating light. She turned and forced her way through the patrons and yakuza alike with little issue. For such a small body, she commanded a surprising amount of authority when on the move. Margaux stepped free from the crowd and came out on the other side. She looked around once then promptly began her ascent up the stairwell to the balcony floor. It was notably less crowded upstairs. The only individuals walking around were waitresses and two men in expensive suits with their backs to the wall. Margaux didn't even have to glance at their pockets to know they were armed. All of the other clientele on this level were sat in their booth seats adjacent to their railing. Each booth was taken except for one. The fourth down. As Margaux approached, she noticed a bottle had been left on the table. There was enough room on both sides for two, maybe three people. The bottle was barely enough for one. She must have been in the right spot.

Margaux sat down at the empty table and folded her hands neatly in her lap. She sat with her back straight. The chaotic energy thundering about the darkness and neon lights didn't appear to touch her for even an instant. Her eyes stared ahead at the empty seat across from her before the slurred speech of a brazen man the next booth over stole her attention away. He was dressed ridiculously, and swinging an expensive golden cup over his head splashing the red wine everywhere and onto the bodies of the vivacious women fawning themselves over him. The main floor below emulated that jubilant and disordered quality well. The dance floor was packed. Between the cigarette smoke and flashing lights, it was difficult to tell who was a person.

Thankfully it wasn't her job to find someone tonight. For once, someone else would be expecting her.

Night of the Dragon 6NRJND5

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Night of the Dragon Empty Re: Night of the Dragon

Post by Unlife Sun May 30, 2021 9:57 am

"Yamazaki. Can you, in the smallest amount of words, tell me why we are entertaining this foreign whore's request?"

"She's good, Sanada-san. She's an excellent third-party bookie, good fixer, and she's why the east siders always had that edge in the promotion game. Now we've driven them out, and she's here to offer her services to the new rulers."

"She's french."

"You always said skill over ethnicity."

"Yeah, but she's french."


"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I get it. Doesn't mean I have to like it. These foreigners come into this country, bloodsucking ticks seeking out a great stallion, and just feed, feed, feed, feed, feed, and feed until they're fat and bloated. Doesn't sit right with any self-respecting Japanese, but it's the hand we've been dealed."

"Is that a yes?"

"Sure. Make the arrangements."

"Don't think she speaks the language, so you might have to-"



"You wanna be boss for a day?"


"I said what I said. Take point on this. I'll translate."

"Sanada-san, with all due respect, I do not think that's a good idea."

"And I don't think full decorum is reserved for the likes of the french foreigner. She's coming to us. Begging for her place in the Japanese ecosystem for crime, and you want to roll out the red carpet for her? What's a little hazing to the french bitch? Are you afraid she's gonna hit us over the head with a baguette or smack us with her white flag? Grow a pair, Yamazaki. We are in charge. We make the rules. These white clowns rise and fall as we will it."

"Sanada-san, if you don't want her..."

"Oh, I don't, Yamazaki, but that's not the question. the question is: how much does she want us?"


Club Midnight was a stupid name. For any locale that wasn't a seedy BSDM brothel for needy, lonely men. Koyuki hated it, hated the fact that changing the registered name of the bar would overtly alert the authorities to a change in management, hated the vice going on in every corner of the venue, hated even being here. Her idea of relaxation was a quiet, scenic locale drinking tea and not being bothered. Alas, leading Yakuza meant you had to be present, had to keep up certain appearances, and that meant she hung around, and smoked, and drank more than she would have ever liked.

It was bullshit. They shouldn't consume what they peddle. At least nobody expected her to sit in front of a slot machine and hoped to beat statistical probability.

You know what else was bullshit? This meeting she had with some cheese-eating french hag.

Night of the Dragon LqvtkFN

Koyuki sat in her office, staring at the big gawdy clock on the wall she had inherited from the previous, defunct owner. She was 5 minutes late. One of the boys had told her the frenchwoman had arrived punctually. That was her problem. She wasn't giving her the due respect of coming on time. More accurately, on time was when she arrived.

"We should go." Yamazaki said, sitting across from her. Yamazaki was nominally her chief accountant, but was Yakuza first and foremost. Well over 6 feet tall, he was unusually huge for a Japanese man, and she barely reached up to his shoulders when they walked side by side. She didn't like him all that much. Despite his talents, he preached caution too much. He didn't like risks, and everything out of his mouth was the 'right' decision. It bored her.... but compared to the usual Yakuza thug, he was a great help in comparison. "We really should not keep the contact waiting."

She simply raised a finger to shut him up.

"The boys said she's just staring ahead."

"At what?"

"The seat. Just staring."

"So she's a creepy french whore. What of it?"


"5 more minutes. Then we'll go."

And go they did. Koyuki's office was connected to the balcony and they descended from it through a spiral staircase. She came down first, purposefully and consciously making herself look smaller than she usually carried herself. She was, as they discussed, switching roles for this engagement. Yamazaki was going to be the boss (and looked the part anyway), while she was going to be his translator. A switcheroo for kicks. She was very, very tired of picking up the pieces of contacts who have found themselves without a patron over the last few years since they consolidated power in Kabukicho, and she needed to switch it up a bit.

The lights, neon and offensive. She would never get used to the lights and the noise and all this shit.

They made their way down the staircase, walked past the booths, and they cleared out one by one as they walked past. The gaudy man -shit, what was his name?- needed a little help from his friends, and shoved past him, uncharacertistic to her current persona, and made her way to the booth.

The frenchwoman was... not what she expected. She was anticipating someone a bit more... pedestrian.

"Hello. Sorry for our tardiness." she said in heavily accented english. Her lips lifted up in a smile. it probably looked better than she felt. "My name is Miss Sanada, and I'm here to assist you in communication today." This is Mister Yamazaki." She bowed. Her accountant didn't, simply muscling his way into a booth that just barely could fit him. She opted to stand.

It was fortunate that she learned to speak english as if it were a textbook, since that's all customer service was in the end.[/color][/color][/color]

Posts : 210
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Night of the Dragon Empty Re: Night of the Dragon

Post by Berial Wed Jun 09, 2021 11:04 pm

Now Margaux remembered why she never smoked. It was unhealthy, certainly, but so were many of her habits. She'd submitted to the fact that on any given day her life would be cut short. A slow, insidious killer from the end of a cigarette butt made little difference in her mind from the cold slash of a knife in the dark. Death came in countless shapes and Margaux embraced them indiscriminately.

If only it didn't smell of smoke. Margaux shopped the finest linens and threads from all over Western Europe. Her wardrobe alone could find her a small island off the coast of Cicily and just thinking of the ash and nicotine clinging to the fabric of her shoulders filled her with an uncanny disgust. The stench in the air made her feel filthy all over. As if a black corrupting sickness were taking hold over her youth and vitality from the inside out. It was impossible for her to believe that people willingly chose to spend their time here.

Part of her was tempted to leave a calling card and quit this all for the quiet of her midnight bath. Lavender bubbles and Edith Paif on the soundwaves. Olivier must have been preparing that in a matter of minutes she imagined.

Her idle thoughts were disrupted by a drunken man that stumbled into the side of her table. The thump wobbled the glass of sake that she still hadn't touched and nearly spilled its contents over the linoleum. Margaux eyed the disoriented man from her seat, but before she had the chance to act, two men in expensive suits grabbed him by the arms and hauled the miscreant away. Margaux watched the trio disappear from over her shoulder and vanish down the stairs. It was flattering to see they were keeping such a close eye on her. Though the least her hosts could do was send someone to pass the time. Patience was never her strong suit.

She was going to kill someone in the next thirty seconds.




"Hm?" A feminine if thick Japanese accent met her ear through the club music. Margaux suddenly found a tall, professional woman at her side with an even taller man beside her. Between the two of them, she did not expect the boulder of muscle wedging his way inside of the booth to be the magician of numbers and decimals.

"No trouble at all. I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Ms. Sanada. I will do my best to speak slowly. I know that my accent is quite...intimidating to the Japanese dialect." Margaux offered her a quick nod before the Frenchwoman brought her attention to the man sitting across from her. "Mr. Yamazaki, it is a great pleasure to meet face to face. No offense to your organization, but your predecessor was a notably cautious individual. He insisted all of our meetings were done remotely and we never so much as shared a bottle of Bordeaux. It is hard to trust a man like that, wouldn't you agree?"

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