[FWC] Lee Seong-ji (N. Korea) vs. Colonel Granite (Canada)

Match Type: Hardcore
Winning Conditions: Pinfall,Submission or Knockout
Special Conditions: NHB, weapons are legal.

Seong-ji had been taught to respect her superiors, at all times, to look at the military as a massive organism, a cohesive body of which she was an important, but not irreplaceable organ. When the brain told the finger to move, there was no argument, no deliberation - it moved. The heart beated with no inclination of its own. All were subservient to the needs of the whole. Anything less was unacceptable. Alien. Undesired. She strove for perfect, and as such, it was not her way to complain, only to do.

But this assignment was an exception. For this, she had and would complain.

She hated Japan from afar back in North Korea for the atrocities they had heaped on her people when they ruled, and now she hated them for many, many more reasons - this entire island was a living farce, and this arena was the heart of it all. It smelled. Visually unappealing. And the noise, always the noise of the incessant, infantile crowd - she grew weary of it, truly, and as she made her way to the ring, she closed her eyes, hoping to tune it all out and find some sanctuary in her mind.

She found that she could not - the foul essence of this place seemed to permeate her very being. The sooner she could finish her business in the Friction World Cup and return home to wash herself clean of it, the better.



The only small ray of sunshine in the bleak cloud was that this match was to be a hardcore fight - no rules. Nothing to hold her back. Nothing to worry about. Weapons allowed, and she brought hers - a whip, and it had been so long since she had good cause to use it. While she let none of her emotions slip through the iron facade, inside her joy was palpable, like a fire running through her veins - a chance to release her inhibitions and deal with this unhealthy anger building up inside. She needed to remain cool and taciturn - she needed to rid herself of this anxiety. This was the perfect cure.

She made her way to her corner and began to warm up, doing a few practice swings with the whip - both for exercise and intimidation.

Once the Colonel's music hit, the pink haired brawler could be seen coming down to the ring through the crowd. Granite smiled mockingly as she cracked her neck, hiding her discomfort at the appearance of such a formidable opponent. This was the first time she had faced against an actual soldier. Even back in the League, where she was humiliated and beaten up frequently, there weren't any military trained professionals. Only psychos and other assorted crazies would join that place. Even her friend Alyssa was kind of nuts, really.

Well, not any more nuts than her, really. The Colonel was going to square off against a true blue North Korean soldier. If that wasn't a dangerous, stupid idea, nothing was.

With one last sigh of consternation, she climbed up to the apron and turned her back to the ropes, leaning back on them so she could flip over and land on her feet. She remembered the glory days of a certain promotion, and the Big Red Machine who had turned ring exits into an art form. Using his move all the time might have seemed to be overexposing it, but she liked it enough that it didn't quite matter. Of course, what did matter was how vicious her opponent was bound to be. Granite had a feeling that her entrance would be the only enjoyable part of this match.

"Well then, a fine night to you, miss." She said, her cold, clipped voice coming through loud and clear. "You think you'll get the best of me, eh?"

The trash talk was there to psych herself up more than the crowd. This really was nerve wracking.

This was a joke. Even for this insipid federation - this simply had to be a joke.

She had received little notice of this match, and not had the time to do proper research into her opponent - she knew her only from the name and some scattered reports across the internet, enough to get a bare understanding of her style but little else. When heard the name 'Colonel Granite', she naturally expected someone of actual military ranking - not this, whatever this slattern was. She was not familiar with Canada's military, but she seriously doubted that this woman, with her purple hair and loose fitting clothes was even close to being worthy of such a title.

She had thought the Canadians might be more respectful than their southern cousins. Apparently, that assumption was poorly conceived.

Seong merely stared back at her as the bell ring, ignoring her glib diatribe - just like the Americans, this one didn't know when to speak and when to fight. Fortunately, Seong thought herself an excellent teacher. She taught through experience. Excruciating, exacting experience.

She responded with action, spinning around in a full turn, letting the whip coils around her as she twirled, then lashing out and bringing it down in flash of movement, aiming at Granite's exposed chest.

Like a viper, the North Korean lashed out with her whip. Colonel Granite winced as the weapon left a long, painful welt across her chest. Gosh darn it, this was the exact worst day to go and wear this costume to the ring. But she had lost a game of poker, and going about half-naked like this would be better than the alternative. She bit down hard, her sharp teeth starting to grind as she put her hands up and rushed in. Yes, she knew the risk of being grappled by a professional with a flexible weapon. But being outranged was even worse. It was certain pain vs certain defeat, and she didn't think the audience wanted to see a squash match right now.

Charging ahead amidst a hail of boos, the Colonel sought to enter grappling range against the soldier. Once there, she believed her strength would avail her in that deadly radius.

This was an insult - she saw it now. They looked down on her. Looked down on her country. Her leader. Her people. They sought to make a joke out of her, denigrate her efforts in this federation - over a hundred years since the Japanese occupation, since their brutal genocide, and they still looked only to humiliate and whittle away at Korean progress.

She would show them. She'd leave this girl as a bleeding, crying mess in the middle of the ring. How humorous would they find that?

As Granite charged forward, Seong charged forward as well, looking to take her off-guard by closing the distance - until she ducked and bobbed to the side, trying to make her way around Granite and whip her in the back as she passed.

Again, the whip cracked against Granite's flesh. She stumbled to the ropes, biting her lip as the sting of the blow ran down her spine. Okay, this really wasn't going to work. She dropped down and rolled out of the ring, ducking down to try and retrieve a weapon from underneath the ring. Rushing in was only going to get her flayed alive, and this was a hardcore match. Not using foreign objects in this kind of match was something a really dumb face would do.

"So, you're into bondage, eh? Seems about right, given what your Dear Leader does to his people every day." She called out, her voice wry and strained in its faux politeness.

Another crack, and this one was starting to learn a lesson - Seong had a weapon and every intention of using it, and it looked like Granite had the sense to try and even her odd. However, she lacked the sense to keep her mouth shut - a decision that she would pay for. Dearly.

Western swine - always eager to speak of things they knew so little about, no doubt referring to the pale caricature the media always filtered out to the ignorant masses. They couldn't know Korea's true glory - all they had were lies. Granite's taunt was like that of a child, speaking of matters she didn't know and couldn't possibly know, and she would be treated as a child speaking such nonsense should be - with rigorous discipline.

Seong-ji didn't move. Didn't take a step. She merely cracked her whip and looked down at Granite, saying only a few words drenched in malice.

"Get in here."

"Hold your horses, miss." Colonel Granite called back, still rummaging for weapons. "It's hard to get something suitable for the match. Well, it'll be a lot easier to find than any sense of glory in your rathole of a country."

As cheap as those insults were, she couldn't face against an expert like Lee while the latter was composed and ready for whatever she could do. She had to upset that balance somehow, or else she'd be torn apart like meat in a deli grinder. As long as it could get her opponent's temper flaring, any sort of behaviour was fine. She peered back up over the apron, her pink locks spilling out of her hood as she gave the soldier a shit eating grin.

"I'd ask you for help, but you're even less likely to get your hands on it. Sit tight. I'm sure those South Korean care packages will tide you over." She taunted. This garnered a fresh wave of booing from the audience, who didn't appreciate her political jab.

And more taunting. Irritating. Disrespectful. Ignorant. Perhaps it did warrant a response.

Seong-ji stared at Granite for a moment, before walking over to the side of the ring and sliding out, rounding the corner and walking towards the Canadian, cracking her whip along the way.

"You are trying to arouse my anger in an effort to distract - it will not work." She cracked the whip along the barricade, sending a few audience members back, covering their ears. "That is not to say that you have not made me angry - you have. But unlike most, I can control my anger and focus it for useful purposes." Another crack, this time slicing into the floor hard enough to leave a scuff mark.

"I am going to break your skin. I am going to break your bones. I will not pin you and I will not knock you out - I will only allow you surrender, but not at first. Not until I have left you as broken, quivering mess in the ring, will I allow you to submit to me. You will beg me to cease. You will plead. And if I am satisfied, I will. But only if. Only then."

She spun the whip around her body, wreathing it like a wound coil, in perfect control of every inch, before snapping it once more, right in front of Granite. "This is what is about to happen to you. Are you prepared?"

"Aw, cripes." Morgan slipped out of character, nervously clutching at a steel chair as she looked back up. She had failed to unbalance the Korean soldier, and now she was probably going to get flayed alive. Great. Just great. "Don't take too long. I think the audience wouldn't appreciate you taking your sweet time in damaging me."

She wasn't entirely wrong. The audience booed Morgan more out of the two, although it was because she displayed more of a reaction to them than Lee did. She ducked back under for a few moments to regain her composure, as hard as it was. This really was going to suck so bad.

"Right, then. How about we conduct diplomacy the way it was intended to go? I'll be NATO, and you can be the blowhard leader of North Korea." Colonel Granite chuckled as she go back on the apron with the chair she was holding. "I insist you take a seat!"

Entering the ring with weapon held high, the mocking Colonel smiled as the fight restarted. Red might've been the WPK's colour, but it was Canadian as well. Time to paint the mats, it seemed.