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Anonymous Sun 22 Sep 2024 03:38:28 No.69360190 Report

Quoted By:

>>69358106
>>69359576
>>69359592
>>69359604

>In an AU, Fang just throws hands with Rosa and Anon in a secret fighting ring

Anonymous Sun 22 Sep 2024 03:46:21 No.69360357 Report

Quoted By: >>69360648

>>69360190
>E1.5
>Fang ain't out for blood, she's out for teeth.
>First up is that Para-bitch, fist tape on and she doesn't even know what hit her. Uppercuts, left jabs, footwork.
>Turn that snout as crooked as a lockpick. Ain't stopping there either.
>Here comes FWR for the assist. Jokes on you chucklefuck this bitch hasn't been just idling for the last month.
>Bodyblow, elbow to the head. Down he goes.
>And they don't stop coming.
>Carledewskii coming in for a round. He's been through the ropes, stances up and makes it a struggle for me. Too bad for him he's not dealing with your average ptero anymore.
>Two to the chest, one to the dome. He's reeling. No respite. Uppercut where he's not expecting it.
>Fists stinging and ringing. No breaks, not unless it's a jaw.
>Anon's here now. You think you're safe from this pain train? No dice skinnie.
>I do go light on him, just a few to the stomach while he crumples.
>Trish is staring, confused but not stopping me. Too bad she's in the way of my warpath.
>Grab on to her convenient horn-handles and a couple knees to the face. Roll on.
>Drop her, onto the stoner. His hands are up, not wanting me to hit him in the face. Deal.
>Few to the sternum as he crumples over.
>Knuckles bloodied and raw. Tape torn and shredded. Adrenaline pumping.
>Who's on next?
>The big guy himself. Spears comes in, arms like logs.
>But I'm quick. He aims to disarm, to grapple. I don't let him. Weave back, peck a few at his jaw. He's straining, I'm prancing.
>In, strike, out. Repeat. He's wearing down. Finally I spy my opening as he dives at me.
>I position just right and put all my force into a straight.
>Down he goes, rolling into a slump as I side-step. I'm on the cusp of muscle failure, barely holding up but ready for more. No one moves a muscle as I glance around, waiting for another challenger. No takers.
>I stride, head held high out the front, bloodied but victorious. I could certainly get used to this.