Playing With the Big Dogs

Edgar's palm slapped the canvas at it's very edge, waiting in the wings ringside. With each time it fell, the ferocity ramped greater until he was slamming a balled fist down onto the apron, which EVERYONE knew was the hardest part of the ring. Sending a vibration of ripples through the mat, trying to reach his sister any way he could. She was down and out, ushered to an early grave by the herald of the end, the Wulf-man himself. She wasn't moving, wasn't so much as twitching as he struck the ring.

“L, get your ass up!” He was snarling at this point, outwardly ignoring the few members of the peanut gallery behind him beyond the barricade who took a break from howling for their hero to take pointed verbal jabs at him and his sister. Ordinarily he would have whirled around and dived into the mosh pit to throw down but right now Leah was in trouble. If there was even a chance he could coax her up, he had to take it.

“Get to the outside! Put up your knees!” Beowulf was moving with purpose, ready to put this saga to a close. He knew what was coming next, had seen it plenty of times in the past… not that he would readily admit that to anyone here, especially after digging into the veteran as he had earlier. The context of the situation had flipped the table on his normal viewpoint, finding himself at odds with his normal chauvinistic outlook. He went into this match wanting to see his sister lose to prove a point, now he was secretly hoping she could pull this out despite the odds? This is why he hated coming down ringside for her matches.

Leah lay on the canvas in a daze, her body strained and unresponsive. Her fingers and toes felt distant, as if she had been stretched out well beyond the limits of the ring. All she could do with any degree of effectiveness was breath and even this was a labored effort. This was something new, something interesting. She was no real stranger to losing. Edgar pounded that into her often enough. This was different though. More complete… in the moment it was an odd mix of emotion. Disappointed in herself, yes, but also fiercely proud. The match hadn't been a brief affair. She had seen Beowulf make dog food out of men twice her size in less than a minute. She had hung in there and given him some degree of a fight…

Her head lulled slightly to the side, blinking the cloudy mismesh of colors into focus. Beowulf had begun his charge for the ropes. Edgar was yelling for her. She owed it to him and the audience to give it one last try. Her body protested an attempt to rally her strength, giving her nothing more than a sad lean to one side before gravity eased her back to the mat where she had been planted.

The ring quaked as Beowulf's weight hit the ropes before he flew. Leah watched in silence, in awe and wonder with stars in her eyes. She knew this was going to hurt. She was certain that tomorrow and the next day she would be so darn sore… but this was the best moment in her career. As Beowulf's shadow drew closer, she instinctively winced, bracing for impact, letting out a soft nearly inaudible "Arooo." Of her own in a whisper.

He hit her like an atom bomb, a resounding crash and instantaneous destruction. Her limbs jumped with the force of the landing before dropping back to the canvas, leaving her unmoving and limp in the middle of the ring. She definitely wasn't getting up.

In homes across the world, the starry-eyed imaginations of thousands of little Wulf-amaniacs rocketed to the heavens as they clutched their authentic Beowulf plushies and stopped eating their Wulf-man ice cream bars just long enough to marvel at their wolfen hero, and veritable Super-man in their eyes, take to the air and vault backwards to showcase a level of agility that just shouldn't be possible for guy of his muscled weight and size. The flashing camera lights in the audience adding to the high-flying spectacle unfolding before them, making it seem that much more fantastical and awe-inspiring to the little ankle-biters at home.

Beowulf having done more than learn how to contend with luchador's during his training stint in Mexico. He also happened to pick up his trademark finisher after being laughed at by dozens of masked wrestlers when he bet them he could be just as agile in the air if he wanted to be. Of course, dozens of tumbling falls from the ropes and botched landings onto some crash pads all left them needing stitches from all of their laugh riots. But Beo was as resourceful and athletically-gifted as he was hard-headed, which just so happened to be the perfect traits needed to nail down his crowd-pleasing finisher. One that went on to mean certain doom for all wrestlers woeful enough to be caught beneath it, with only a select few of his opponents having had the energy/wherewithal/air in their lungs needed to kick out of it.

Before take-off, the Wulf-man did just so happen to catch the rampant warnings and ring-slapping pleas at ringside from the elder Shaw sibling. At the very least it looked like he got the wax out of his ears long enough to hear what Beowulf was trying to impart about him just cheering for his sister, but it was regrettably advice that came too late as the spiraling Wulf-man splashed onto the defenseless Shaw sister with momentous force and ring-shaking repercussions. A booming cheer from the ravenous crowd nearly muffing out the sound of the thunderous impact with Beowulf himself jostling up from his flattened lady opponent before laying his broad back across her and hooking one of her legs upward. The Wulf-man shooting up the devil horns as he smiled his toothiest smile, with the referee dropping down to do his job with bit of theatrical zeal too, almost as if he felt like a kid again himself and was being swept up in the moment too~...

"One!..."

"Two!..."

It was at least a small credit to Leah that the meteor known as Beowulf didn't kill her when he exploded down onto the mat. There was no crater to memorialize this moment, though plenty had caught it with cameras and smartphones on the seconds prior and after the aftermath.

The impact had left the already downed girl completely pacified, mumbling incoherently over the defending roar of the crowd. This was the rookie's first taste of real defeat in Tension and Beowulf had been sure to make it a send-off not tlsoon to be forgotten. His meaty arm hooked her leg which dangled against the weight of gravity as it's over source of resistance. Her petite frame smooshed down into the canvas as his weight settled across the top of her.

The referee's palm slapped the canvas, counting the wall along with a knowing, chanting audience that made sure the official knew their numbers. Each count went unanswered until finally it was over with a…

“Three!”

Edgar hissed softly under his breath, folding his arms atop The apron as he witnessed the same thing and everyone else did. This was the outcome he had foretold, it was how it should have been. He should be gloating, using this as another reason to try and get Leah to consider going to Friction rather than fighting people she had no business being in the ring with. He was left with a lingering bitterness, one that his mind justified by blaming his sister for being so stupid to not listen to him to begin with while simultaneously being the reason he couldn't enjoy her undoing.

He should have been happy for her. Proud of how well she did. He couldn't see her strides for what they were, all of this was just another reminder of how naive she truly was. Edgar raked his fingers through his hair, stewing on the moment and considering how awkward the trip back to the apartment would be now. He couldn't rightly give her hell after this, so soon, with how battered she was going to be. He could worry about that later, assuming she was conscious.

Theatricality and a fair bit of charismatic machismo made one, simple, non-title, mid-card match on a random television taping feel like a momentous occasion in the history of the sport. Even though it was technically just a talented rookie being shown by the ropes by a wrestling old-timer, the way in which it was delivered gave the hyped up audience reason enough to burst out into deafening applause the minute that the referee's hand hit the canvas for the third time. Beowulf rising back upward with his balled fists raised high as the audience got nostalgic goosebumps from hearing his rocking theme and seeing the grappling legend standing tall once more, everyone in the arena briefly taken back to their cereal munching childhood in one nostalgia-hazed moment~...

"Aww Yeah!!! Who's The Wulf-Man!!!???" Beowulf bellowed out with his sparkly toothed smile as he played to the cheering masses. All before dramatically cupping his ears towards each side of the arena to gauge which side gave him the most thunderous applause, then rewarding that side of the audience with a first-class ticket to the gun show as he flexed his prodigious muscles in a flexing pose. Beowulf having done this a million times, yet it never once loses its luster even if he always ends up posing for all sides of the ring anyway. He just wanted to make sure the good people went home happy and gave them no reason to write hateful blogs about him or something. Whether people hated him as a wrestler, they couldn't say anything about his showmanship.

Of course, it takes two to tango...and Beowulf couldn't have a debut match this fun without the cherubic blonde lady who he hoped was still conscious by the end of all this. He figured now was a good time to check up on his seemingly comatose rookie opponent who was currently being tended to by the referee trying to coax her back to a state of mental awareness by patting her cheeks plus snapping her fingers in front of her face. "Hey, there's no sleeping on the job kiddo!!! Don't tell me a little old slam like that is gonna keep you from standing back up and shaking hands with your opponent~..." Beowulf confidently boasted while looking down at Leah with a warm smile, then offering her a helping heave back to her feet with his extended hand.

So this was what it felt like to be a cartoon character. Pressed flat, comedically so, to a surface to the point she was almost certain she had become a pancake. She was pretty sure her imprint was now and permanent fixture of the Tension ring. When beefy Beowulf climbed off of her, she was able to breathe again. Chest inflating with a sudden gasp. She didn't rise though, not yet.

She knew from past experience it would be awhile before she was asked to leave the ring with the way the Wulf-man normally celebrated. The blond was sad she couldn't really appreciate it while splattered across the mat. Front row seats and all she got was lighting in her face. How tragic.

Within her boots she wiggled her toes, starting from the bottom and working her way up to make sure everything was working right. Legs gave a small kick, butt gave a wiggle, she rocked her body slightly from side to side, and waved her arms as if making a snow angel. Everything seemed to be working. That was good.

“H-hey!” The blond blinked, face scrunching up lightly as she was pat on the cheek. In her daze of self recovery she had lost her ring awareness, now Beowulf looked over her snapping his fingers at her face. Had she missed a queue or something?

“I wasn't sleeping, honest.” she wasn't sure what to make of what else he had said..was he serious about the slam comment? He hit like.a runaway freight train that jumped off the tracks and soared through a preschool… she made a momentary sour face at that imagery. There was a hand being offered. Did he… intend to shake her hand while she was laying on the mat?

Hesitant and confused she reached out to take him significantly larger hand in hers. Leah let out a surprised yelled as she was immediately yanked upright like a ragdoll, forced to find her footing with a stumble. The sudden change left her awash with a woozy sensation. She clapped her free hand on top of their linked grasp, leaning into it for balance. “Eh heh. Sorry… I'm use to being on the other side of these things.”

Beowulf was only half-kidding when he came around to attempt to coax Leah out of her pancaked state of wooziness. Of course he wasn't expecting the flattened Shaw to be capable of springing back to her feet and fresh as a daisy after having withstood one of the most electrifying finishers in wrestling history. But when it comes to the wrestling business, sometimes you have to expect more of yourself if you ever wanna see what you're truly capable of. And that's kinda what the Wulf-man was trying to impart upon Leah with his booming declaration as he reached down to offer her a helping hand back to her feet...though he balked and put more strength into the handshake once it felt like Leah was using him to balance her wobbly equilibrium and that Beowulf was the only thing keeping her from kissing the canvas again.

"Hah. there ya go!! See? You took that finisher like a champion~..." Beowulf merrily bellowed out with a mighty and booming slap on her shoulder while still keeping her aloft with their handshake, just in case she would have gone tumbling. Which would have been a bad sign considering he was trying to make her long strong in defeat here, thousands of cheering fans giving the wrestling match and the competitors a rousing round of applause once they saw them sharing an amicable handshake. A mutual show of respect that isn't done as much as Beowulf would like, kids these days seemingly getting more hyped in a blood-feud rivalries out of a simple match when all it takes is a handshake and a brewski to quell any bad blood...least in his p.o.v.

"Oh...I know all about you're winning record." Beowulf stated into a microphone just than given to him by the referee. "Ya see...The Wulf-man here's been keeping his eye on you for quite some time now, little lady. Even before I knew I'd be taking this little overseas journey. And I gotta say...after tussling with you firsthand, I can plainly see that what you've got...is it. And "it", can't be taught. But I know "it", when I see uhh...it." Beowulf looked off and to the side before looking back to Leah. "What I'm saying is I think you've got the raw potential, the feral hunger, the clawing ambition, the biting determination, and most importantly...the spirit...of a wulf inside of you, Leah. I've come to Japan to mold the next generation into being the absolute best wrestlers they can be, and with that in mind, I ASK YOU LEAH SHAW...HOW WOULD YOU...LIKE TO OFFICIALLY JOIN THE WULF-PAC, AND FIGHT BY THE MAIN-MAN'S SIDE AS MY NEW PROTEGE??!!" Beowulf broadcasted boldly with emblazoned passion in his eyes and the stunned audience ecstatically cheering on the momentous occasion of a new inductee into the Wulf-Pac~... the whole world now eagerly awaiting Leah's response as camera's zoomed in on her...

Instinctively Leah found herself wincing at the firm handshake, silently mouthing an “ow” out of habit rather than actual pain. As upbeat and chipper as the dynamic rookie tended to be, she could do very little in this moment to fully match the gusto that was Beowulf. He was a master of his craft, there was no debating that, especially when he turned up the dial all the way. She was left vulnerable physically and mentally from the crushing defeat as she was taken in by his strength of body and character.

It was all that she could to to solidify her grasp over top of her hand to keep steady. It was taking most everything she had to keep herself upright, the rest was being drained in her poor attempt to match the fire burning in Beowulf, trying to return the same respect he was showing her in this moment.

The spunky blond managed to grin up at the larger man, one that only grew as his compliments directed at her continued to mount. She found herself rising to meet his words, standing straighter, trying to be better in this moment even if all that it amount to was standing slightly straighter. It was harder to compose herself here and now then her mind would have her believe.

“Heh… I think most champs might have been able to take it better, ya'know, kick out maybe. That's why they are champs I guess…hrk!” Her shoulder jerked forward with the sting of Beowulf's well meaning clap on her shoulder. Had it not been for him anchoring her upright, she almost assuredly would have been put back down to the mat with shaky legs. The legend was a bastion able to keep her locked upright with ease even as her own fortitude was lacking.

The rumbles of cheers rose steadily in the audience. So loud in fact the healthy support she had experience thus far in Tension seemed to drown in the vastness of it all. She looked out over the crowds, awestruck. It wasn't all for him… it was for the both of them.  She had offered Levi something similar to this. A helping hand, an offer for peace with a handshake and he had turned her away. Embarrassed, perhaps in defeat, it did nothing but fuel his scorn. Leah felt the opposite in this moment.

While it was disheartening to lose, it didn't have the same sting than if it had been to someone who had actually meant her ill will. She didn't feel objectified or shamed, she felt accomplished and proud. She was young, a rookie, and in her first year of wrestling she had had a match with one of the greatest in the business. It was hard to be upset with that even if she had come up short.

She found herself blinking, eyes falling back onto Beowulf who had manifested a microphone from somewhere while she wasn't paying attention. Leah wasn't sure she should be surprised, he was a talker after all. His promos were some of her favorites, especially when he ran down an opponent with colorful trash talk and ever changing takes on his catchphrases that felt familiar yet new.

He had already made it clear to her that she was aware of who she was. That fact alone was flattering. The fact he actually followed her matches however, had a small shade of crimson rising in her cheeks. She really really hoped he hadn't watched ALL her matches. Oh goodness, that may have been slightly embarrassing... She wasn't ready to be showered with praise, not by Beowulf himself, and not while she was ready to pass out at any moment. She was red faced, burning up with an uncharacteristic blush. This man was one of her wrestling heroes after all and he was comparing her with some of the future best in the business.

“I…” she wasn't sure what to say. This was an opportunity of a lifetime. Something that many people in her position would no doubt kill to have been offered. She found herself looking out over the audience as fans cheers her on, eyes setting on her picture being displayed on a large screen over the stage. Seeing her face up there red and flustered somehow made it even worse. She swallow d hard, reaching out to try and take his hand by the wrist to coax the microphone closer.

“Y-yeah! Of course! I want that, very very much!” It seemed the crowd approved, choosing to again back her now that she was no longer the enemy but a willing ally. She could hardly contain her excitement, the whole thing threatening to make her faint. She didn't know what else to saw, well, besides one thing. “Arooooooo!”

Leah need not fear. When it came to researching the wrestling records of the lady Shaw, he made sure to just get the super abridged cliff notes version of her more..."adult-oriented," matches from his personal assistant. Not that Beowulf was some stuffy traditionalist with a shimmering bowl-cut hairdo who thought women were defiling the purest from of the art of grappling...he just didn't want his first impression of the sisterly Shaw to be influenced by the fact he got to see her naughty bits before even speaking with the little lady. Beowulf was hip with the youth and knew full well about the more salacious side of Tension which personified the wide-old idiom of "Sex sells...", and that Leah probably gets heftier paychecks for the matches where she gets down and dirty with the men-folk since they garner the higher ratings. But for now, he was more interested in the actual wrestling part of her matches. And tonight's rookie throw-down was the final testwhich she passed with flying colors.

Of course Beowulf had tag-partners in the past, including being one half of the renowned "Ultra-Powers" tag-team before it's bitter collapse, but the Wulf-man had never taken on a true protege before. Not that it never crossed his mind, it's just that he was so dedicated into spreading the call of Wulf-a-mania himself that he just never thought her had the time for it. But as Father Time kept knocking on his door, and with his own wrestling legacy firmly cemented, he saw this excursion to Japan as the best opportunity to start passing on that fiery torch to the next generation. And who better than with a young lady wulf-cub he could nurture, support, train, strengthen, and instill within her the undying passion and resilient spirit of the Wulf~...and it was a proposal she enthusiastically accepted to a resounding ovation and her own first Wulf-call after officially joining the pack.

"AROOOO!!!!!" Alright!!!!! Welcome To the Wulf-pac!!!!! I pity the fool whose gonna try stepping up to us, cause Wulf-a-mania's running wild, baby!!!!!" Beowulf boisterously bellowed to the electrifying enthusiasm of the ravenously cheering crowd, his penchant for creating catchphrases out of nowhere not having dulled in the slightest. After raising Leah's arms high as if she had won the match, the grappling veteran would swiftly arch down behind Leah to hoist her upward whilst seating her on his shoulder. This decision was most definitely a big step forward in her wrestling career, and he wanted to make the grand occasion and tonight's festivities all about her. And what better way than to give her a victory march around the ring with Beowulf throwing up the Wulf-Pac hand sign. All to sparkling cameras, cheering adulation, and his Real American theme blasting through the speakers...