Long Form Roleplayers
Established: 2021-04-21
- Long-term roleplay
- Descriptive writing
A space for fans of descriptive, long form roleplays of all genres to meet and greet one another
CONTINUED FROM PART 2
AT THE BASE
Cameron, Baker, and Trey are running like hell to catch the escaped prisoner. He's running deeper into the compound, Cameron watches as he turns a corner, down the hallway leading to the fighting gym.
The sound of the prisoner's feet slapping on the floor suddenly stops, and there is a loud banging and crashing sound. Cameron sees the big man's shadow suddenly stopped. What the hell. Cameron pauses, trying to figure out what the prisoner might be up to.
Trey, without a brain in his head, lumbers around the corner. Baker, bringing up the rear, his huge mass not meant for sprinting. Cameron hears a splash of liquid, followed by a loud meaty THUNK, the shadow play revealing a quick, savage tussle. Cameron starts up again, and he and Baker round the corner, to find Trey laid out, bleach covering his face, kicking and screaming on the corridoor floor. Both big dudes look sickened at the sight of Trey, his throat crushed, gargling and thrashing, already his movements starting to weaken.
The prisoner pelts down the hall, the huge bastard blasting through the doors at the far end. Cameron stops, bending down, but it's clear that there ain't no medic in the world that can do anything for Trey. The only thing Cameron can do is ease his suffering. Trey was a bastard, a whiner, and an asshole, but no one deserved this. Cameron takes a few seconds to cradle the dying man in his arms, give him a quick squeeze so he knows he's not alone, then with a professional twist, breaks his neck. Then he stands up, his heart pounding in his chest, then he and Baker pelt down the hall towards the gym, the huge prisoner standing right in the middle holding a mop.
Cameron and Baker are both armed with batons, but no pistols. Derek didn't want to invite the chance of accidents. If he had a prisoner in the base, then the prisoner was there for a reason other than to be killed. All his men however, were well trained.
The two men enter the gym, cautiously, keeping their eyes on the prisoner. Cameron looks at his baton, then at the long mop Atlas is holding. He reholsters his baton, then reaches to a weight tree near a bench press next to the door, lifting up a long weight bar, hefting it, to match the reach of Atlas's weapon. Baker is so focused on Atlas he doesn't even stop to think.
The weight bar is a good 10 kilos, hefty, will do some damage. Cameron won't be able to move it as fast as the mop, but he doesn't necessarily have to. Then, Baker rushes ahead. Cameron sighs, and follows after.
Baker puts his 330lbs behind an brute force overhead swing of his baton, aiming for Atlas's head. Cameron comes in from the opposite side, ducking low and swinging out his weight bar, looking to sweep Atlas's legs out from under him at the knee.
Derek, just about ready to leave the base, gets notified. He assesses the situation through the security monitor. He ruefully shakes his head. When he discovers that Trey is dead, he begins to get angry. He was fair game, but taking out his men was definitely a mistake on Atlas's part.
2020-05-21 23:05
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ERIK ATLAS
The pair come at me, the big thick monster Baker charging first. Baker looks furious, and Cameron looks surgical - I make the call, Baker's dangerous, Cameron's deadly. Cameron takes a 10 kilo bar, hard to swing, but those delts and traps of his indicate he can do it. I wait for Cameron to commit and rush right putting baker between me and Cameron - I block the head stroke from baker and he powers his swing hard, I deflect - he will shatter this mop handle if I block directly - Cameron's swing HITS Baker behind the knees and he goes down. Deflecting the Baton with the right end of the stick and windmilling it in an understroke and Nailing Baker in the balls - hit from two, directions Baker goes down in front of Cameron. I back off keeping the downed Baker between me and Cameron. As I back away, I hit a plate tree behind me - I reach down and quickly and grab a 10 pound plate...
- - - -
AT THE BASE
Cameron, already committed to the swing, can't abort as Atlas moves like a fucking dancer, blocking the stroke from Baker, deflecting it with the detached mop handle. Cameron winces as the weight bar smashes into the back of Baker's knees at the same time Atlas manages to deflect the Baton with the mop handle, windmilling it down to smash Baker in his very sizable balls. OWWWWWWWW. Baker collapses, doubling over from the nut shot, and smashing to his ass from having his legs swept out.
Cameron, grunts, FUCK... Re positions, holding the weight bar in the middle to allow him to swing it with better control, and letting him use either end of the bar as a weapon. Cameron looks down, catches Baker's eye, and points his chin at Atlas.
Then the medic turned underground cage fighter charges, adopting a side on stance to present a low profile to Atlas, swinging his weight bar point first, and jabbing, trying to catch the big man in the pit of his gut. Baker, rolling on the floor, holding his nuts, can't do much, but he does what he can, deliberately rolling into Atlas's ankles to fuck up his balance and give Cameron a chance.
2020-05-21 23:50
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ERIK ATLAS
Cameron nods to Baker, coming over the big man as he rolls at me working to try and take me down. I'm tired and still hurting from Steel and need to keep that in mind. My head wants to do things my body is complaining about and my body gonna have to deal. The come at me coordinated this time. I JUMP over Baker's roll attack! my stick is faster than Cameron's bar, but not by much as he is thrusting and not swinging, coming at me from my right flank. I use the big leap to move to left flank over Baker, once again avoiding Cameron's bar and putting Baker on the floor between me and Cameron.
I hit the floor and spin... the 10 pound weight in my hand... SPIN and hurl that bitch like a frisbee aiming for Cameron's chest! The spin gives me some orientation - the actions have left the door behind me - exit acquired - after the throw i dont fucking care about the impact I book it for the door, mop handle still in hand...
2020-05-22 18:57
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AT THE BASE
Atlas is one big, fast fucker! Easily jumping over Baker's admittedly clumsy attempt to trip up the big man. Cameron's thrust just misses blasting Atlas, jumping back over Baker again to avoid. Cameron pulls the bar back, then FUCK... the huge man throws the weight plate like a frisbee!
Luckily the bar is in position to smash the rim of that weight, knocking it aside as Atlas turns to book it towards the open double doors. Baker starts to struggle to his feet, still holding is nuts, Cameron hefts the big weight bar over his shoulder, flexes his tough, strong muscle, and heaves the bar like a javelin for Atlas's retreating legs, hoping to trip him up and give them time to jump him.
2020-05-22 21:47
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ERIK ATLAS
I make it ten paces and the Bar HITS my legs!!!
To say I go down in an understatement - I make a fucking skid mark tumbling at the end still 20 feet from the door. the bar hit my leg in the back of the right hamstring and tangled on my shins dropping me hard. I catch most of it on my hands but slide on my chest. Groaning from that hard hit making my way to my feet....
2020-05-22 21:50
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AT THE BASE
Cameron and Baker watch as Atlas collapses in a huge fucking tangle of legs and muscle. Cameron has a quick whispered conversation with Baker, he nods and they both charge forward, Cameron turning his back for a moment to grab something in his hand next to a weight tree, then Cameron comes at you from the front, and Baker circles around behind you.
Just as you are getting back up to your feet, Cameron charges forward, flinging a handful of lifting chalk he'd grabbed from a bag into your face, then dropping low, charging, looking to drive his shoulder into your abs in a tackle.
BUT... at the same time, Baker is charging you from behind, looking to drive his 330lbs of heavy weight power into a tackle as well, aiming for the small of your back. The two men seeking to fucking smash you between their dual tackles like a bag of trash in a trash compactor.
2020-05-22 23:21
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ERIK ATLAS
The dodging and evasion was going to end sometime.... fuck did it have to be like this? I get up and see Cameron coming at me - I know this one and ready the counter... yu come in close and I SCORE an open hand palm to Cameron's ear connecting a half second before he hits me! PAWPPPP setting a bomb of pain off in his head.... then the world comes down! and yea know how to take plenty of hits. ... and some like this.... but after Steel's tutorial it CRUSHING hard.... the big Baker hits me from behind and Cameron's momentum isnt even slowed.
UGHHHhhhghhhghh! The hit sandwiches me in between and we all go down. Gagging for air.... I aint getting up fast.... hurts my guts bad - Cameron holding his head I turn rolling on top of Baker...I FIRE a blow to his face - my thumb extended like a spear aiming for his eye - I call it the hitchhiker - hooking eye spear HITS Baker in the face!
2020-05-22 23:30
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AT THE BASE
Cameron suddenly feels like someone is ringing a church bell... inside his head. He's not even aware when he slams into Atlas, his clock is rung. Cameron rolls to his side, holding his head, trying to remember what day it is.
Baker, growling with satisfaction at getting some payback on this big fucker suddenly finds himself on his back, with the big fucker on top of him. Frantically, he tries to get his arms up to guard his face, he's no stranger to a fight, but he never expected you to shake off that double spear so fucking fast. He's tasting fear, and it slows his reactions, that thumb rips into his eye, blinding him, and he lets out a scream of agony, covering his face.
Cameron, dazed, hears the scream, sees you on top of Baker, staggers over, his balance still fucked up from the blow to his ear, practically falls down, his hands on your shoulder blades and the small of your back, he draws back his knee, and aims an almighty knee smash into your ribs.
2020-05-22 23:42
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ERIK ATLAS
Still gagging for air I run out of movement on top of Baker. My thumb scores deep and spears Baker in the eye up to the knuckle! I seirusly hope this either kills him or discourages him doing more to me... then UGHAWGHHHhhhhhh!!! Cameron's knee carves into my side. I expect him to be down longer, but these guys are trained to fight where I got training to take hits and keep going...
My ribs were still plenty sore from Steel's abuse and that shot scored deep and hurt so back my hands caint move... The impact rolls me off Baker and my thumb disengages from Baker with a bloody pouring from his head. My bare chest splattered rolling twice on the floor... double spear and the knee fucked me good... gagging trying to take in breath....
My head spins from the pain and see the face of Garcia laughing with Beck, a mere 20 minutes before Steel arrived. Grief and fury still raging in my head forcing me to get up and screaming about my weakness.. i try and land faceplant on the floor hurting...
2020-05-23 00:20
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AT THE BASE
Cameron collapses on top of Baker. Baker has stopped screaming now, and Cameron tries to get up, but falls down back on Baker, his balance still fucked. He looks over and his guts churn as he sees that Baker has stopped screaming, and indeed, isn't going to be screaming anymore. Cameron looks over at Atlas, he starts to feel a deep thick fury bubbling in his guts. Baker hadn't been his friend, not exactly. He hadn't been what you'd call an upstanding beacon of humanity. But Cameron knew the kind of shit that he had been through. Life had never given this dude a break, and now Atlas had taken it from him. The final shitty end to a series of fuck ups for the man. Cameron had always wished that Baker could have had a break, had something go right for him, just once. And then one thing had. Derek had lifted him up out of his shitty existence as a modern gladiator, cleaned him up, given him a second chance. Like he'd given all of them. And then Atlas happened.
Roaring, he leapt on top of Atlas, a surge of adrenaline pulsing through his veins as the big heavyweight slammed onto Atlas's back. He reached down, straddling Atlas's back, looking to grab the back of the man's head by his hair and yank it up off the floor, then cock his other fist, trying to slam a savage hook down into the big dude's trapped jaw, powered by a fury that he seldom tapped into.
2020-05-23 00:33
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ERIK ATLAS
I faceplant again and then the pounding fury of Cameron lands on my back! Hammering punches rain down - he tries grabbing my buzz cut hair and it's not the handle he was expecting. Screaming in rage he's pounding on me. I cover my head as he hammers on my arms and back - a shield wall of muscle he's not getting through.
Pulling up to my knees with everything I got just enough to lift him. I try to forward roll and dont have the stamina for that. so flash a turn under him. I make it halfway to my back and feel Cameron flatten on me to keep control - his emotions raging. I'm waiting for Baker to thrash in and my adrenaline is a loan shark pumping me to act, knowing Imma paying for it later. I take pride in my open hand attacks - they move a man. I SLAM my left hand into Cameron's chest firing him, off me over my legs!
I gag for air and thrash to my feet...scanning for Baker.
OH shit.... a lurch in my heart. I really scored that hitchhiker. I look at Baker, up with fists up to guard. Then eyes meet with Cameron. His fury and pain is evident. Am I sorry? Not really. I know his pain, I felt it watching Steel kill my men. I feel light headed and sick, I aint a killer and just scored two out of fear and desperation. OK maybe some hate too.
5 seconds passed. I speak....
"Steel.... did this to all my men...." pointing at Baker. "I'm a trainer. Not a combatant.... he took me here.... I...." This is where normal people say "I'm sorry " and we both know I aint. It falls dead in my mouth. "THIS! This is what we are now. Unless u change it."
He's saying nothing - his mind churning....
"I'm leaving. or you're next.... And then I leave." Cameron is silent. I back toward the door, Baker's blood still running down my chest. I don't take eyes off Cameron, backing toward the door.
2020-05-23 00:58
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AGENT DEREK STEEL
Cameron is flung off your back, over your legs, then makes his way to his feet, in a fighting stance. He watches as you stagger back to your feet, his chest heaving as he masters the surge of emotion running through his veins.
He listens to your words, senses the turmoil in them. Then as you slowly start to back up, Cameron speaks, following slowly, cautiously, his voice hard as iron, reverberating with a deep passion, "Steel saved my life. He saved my brothers life. You don't know shit about who he really is. You just think you do. I'd take a bullet for that man any day of the week, and he'd do the same for us. You say you are not a combatant... but the SHARKs he killed were, weren't they? He killed them, but not you. Did you ever stop to think about that?" Cameron walks forward, knowing he probably didn't stand a chance, but he meant every word he'd said. Then, suddenly,
A voice rings out from behind Atlas. "Cameron. Stand down soldier. You did well, and I can't tell you how fucking proud of you I am, save one little detail that we'll chat about later." Cameron nods, relaxes and backs off.
"Atlas. You want to fuck with my men? Then why don't you pick on someone your own size?" I stand, side on in a fighting stance, holding a steel baton in one hand, bare chested, interrupted in the middle of changing, my hard hairy muscle tightly corded, tensed and battle ready. My eyes are flashing, my focus is laser sharp as I stand between you and the exit.
2020-05-23 01:18
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ERIK ATLAS
I'm about to let Cameron know how much I feel grateful for being kidnapped after seeing my men killed. I hear your voice behind me, and get that sucking feeling in my gut. You say shit about picking on someone my own size. I look at Baker and note he's like 30 pounds over me... I see u got a steel baton and grimly know this is gonna hurt.
"Look it that Cameron.. Steel saved u again. Maybe yu should run along and get a mop for Baker... Oh yea, Trey has it. My bad..." keeping eyes on Steel, but right on cue, Cameron screams rushing me, bowing to rage. I understand him - I could've got on my bike and reported to 686 HQ and walked away. Some of us are just bad at walking away... so is Cameron. I turn and grab his arm, JUDO throw to the floor between me and Steel... I know this aint hurting him but keeping him between me and Steel for a fighting chance. I rush deeper into the room and get to the dumbell rack - 5 pound dumbells in each fist, heaving in pain and frantic to get out of here, fists up ready - 25 feet separating us.
2020-05-23 01:57
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AGENT DEREK STEEL
My eyes narrow as you succesfully goad Cameron into rash action. You judo flip my big,muscled medic down hard to the floor between us. You rush deeper into the gym and arm yourself with dumb bells in each hand. Good strategy. I don't immediately follow you, but take a few moments to help Cameron up, "Leave Cameron, now. I've got this." He stumbles up and staggers out the door, clearly wanting to stay, but knowing better than to disobey a direct order.
I start to advance on you, you having had plenty of time to prep yourself. I close the distance with you, watching carefully for those five pound weighted fists, my guard up, my stance careful. Not going to underestimate you.
2020-05-23 02:08
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ERIK ATLAS
I weaponize the pair of five pound dumbells as you help Cameron up. It's hard to describe how hard it is to kill my rage watching you two. You pick up him with Fatherly care and he listens. You touch. He adores you and swallows his grief and rage and adrenaline without looking at me and walks away. Everything I had with my men in 686 as a civilian trainer on display right there. The loving care to build men strong, test them hard, bandage their wounds after making them - having the family of men I was always denied until I built my own.
I build men - I don't kill men. Here you are enjoying all that I had - here I am killing men when that's not my thing. In 6 short hours, what you took from me and made me be, or die. HOW DARE YOU do this to me? Words unsaid, but after all this, I know yur not stupid and u see what I see.
I sober up and take four fast deep breaths and recover and kill my rage, kill my heart, kill my love, kill my hate - and become a surgeon looking at cancer. AND I CHARGE.... close to ten feet and HURL that weight at you like a rocket, football trained to aim for the numbers - 5 pounds of iron coming at you like a rocket - 300 pounds of muscle coming at you like a semi on a midnight road! the weight HITs and I Tackle you down!
2020-05-23 11:10
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AGENT DEREK STEEL
As Cameron turns to go, my eyes are locked on yours. I see the unfolding of, what to you is, a very unpleasant realization. I smile, then, reading the emotions playing across your face. You want to stick me into a simple box, you want to stick yourself in a simple box, with clean black and white labels. But you are finally realizing in your thick skull that I do not fit in one of your boxes. And you are hating me because you are realizing you don't fit in the box either. And the best bit is.. you are blaming me for it. Just like the soldiers you trained. Shifting responsibility for his actions to another.
Damn, the truth hurts. And I'm going to pay for this. And that's okay. It was worth it. Truth is a beautiful thing.
Then, that five pound weight comes at me like a rocket. FUCK ME!!! Right towards the middle of my chest! Almost no time to react, I snap my baton across my bare, hairy pecs like a bar, holding the other end in my hastily raised hand. The weight smashes into my jury rigged defense, I absorb some of the blow, but the weight slams the baton against my chest with a brutal force. I'm gonna have a nice horizontal bruise across my pecs if I get out of this alive. I release my grip, and the baton snaps back out to the side as I open my arms up nice and wide.
You are charging right behind, a 300 lb unstoppable juggernaut. I can't fight this, and just let myself utterly relax into the inevitable, exhaling my wind as your shoulder plows into my hard, hairy abs, my thick muscled body doubling up over your shoulder, my hands coming down near your butt as I jack knife from the force.
There isn't any way for me to counter this kind of unstoppable force, no clever trick or quick response is going to make a difference to the hurricane that is Atlas. Some things you just have to accept. As the pain erupts in the middle of my finely trained core like a shockwave rippling out from a boulder thrown into a lake, I can only hope that my body is up to the task of helping me navigate the aftermath.
We slam into the floor with terrific force, sliding along at least six feet from the horizontal impact, with me overriding every natural instinct, keeping my self relaxed, trying to ride the bruising pain and force like a surfer would ride the crest of a tidal wave. Eventually, we come to a stop just outside the doors to the gym, in the hall. I'm feeling pretty battered, but I've still got the strength to say, gasping, "Fuck... truth... hurts... don't it... Atlas?"
2020-05-24 00:09
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ERIK ATLAS
The hand weight rockets at you - i think it's a first, I haint surprised you once in any of this - even when I tore the ceiling down. The dumbell hits you and you bring up your baton and block - I sure dint expect it to hit you - I wanted ME to hit you - and WE HIT! The momentum carrying across the gym, mats and to the doors SLAMMING through them - that's the way OUT and that's where I'm going...
We hit with a skid mark and my bottle fury is still in hell somewhere eating bacon and I'm working to take you out and end this place one man at a rime. "You say something about TRUTH and I almost lose it and fuel my fight - body hurting for that car-crushing hit from Baker and Cameron - I dint feel it in the ground work but getting up and flying around making it obvious - putting that pain away and driving the attack - Right hand with the weight up as we hit and I mount you! My left hand sweeps your defenses and BAMMMMM!!! I cinch up my mount on you and my knee weighs hard on your baton arm... now the fists! BAM BAMMMMMM BAM BAM BAMMMMMMM!!! I carve through your defenses and SLAM yur face splattering blood on the nice clean floor and wall beyond.
2020-05-24 07:05
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AGENT DEREK STEEL
I'm struggling against your massive weight, you've mounted me now, and before I can try to pull in my guard, you pin my right arm with your knee, my baton neutralized, grunting with pain, trying to hold my left arm up for some kind of defense. Your own left just sweeps my arm aside, and you bash your fist down into my face. FUCKKKKKKKKKk... Seeing twinkling lights.
Then it hits again and again and again and again. Every time I pull my left up to try and block some of the damage, you sweep it aside again. I'm in all kinds of serious trouble, my face is getting turned into hamburger meat, my nose is broken, blood streaming down my face, and I cough mid attack, sending some blood spraying out, and a tooth. My face is cut in several places, and I'm starting to feel very light headed... I'm a strong man, I can take a LOT of punishment. I guess it's time to see just how much I can take.
The pain is a rising tide that threatens to wash away my consciousness, my ability to think. So I let it. I trust my body, and relax. Either I will survive or I won't. I don't have any choice in the matter except to ride the storm that is Atlas.
My left hand stops trying to defend. Instead, I reach up and place my hand on your right side. The bruising around your ribs and core is noticeable. On instinct, that thumb jabs inwards suddenly, directly over your floating short rib. There is a satisfying POP as my thumb stabs in deep, knocking your floating rib out of alignment, something which is extraordinarily painful.
I'm counting on the natural reaction to lean over and protect the pain point to work in my favor. At the same time, I breath in as deeply as I can, flex my trapped right arm, grab your right arm just above the elbow, tighten my abs, and HEAVE to my left, your right, pulling down on your right arm and pushing up with every ounce of power I can muster. It's do or die. If this doesn't succeed, than I'm not sure I have a plan B.
2020-05-24 07:37
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ERIK ATLAS
I score some brutal slams - and yur defenses crumble - my heart rages in a wild hope I can get the fuck out of here. My eyes snap wide UGHHHFAWK! It seemed the smallest thing, your hand STABS me in the ribs - and fukkk that hurts - I fall forward in reflex and yur body smothered by my chest - pulling me to roll!? OK! - My legs clamp around you in the roll and I CRUSH DOWN trapping you on your left side - SQUEEZE and transfer the weight - SLAP at your face again as my legs carve into your body - SURPRISE BITCH yur in some bad trouble now - this is the crush I use to take out masters and monsters!!
2020-05-24 08:13
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AGENT DEREK STEEL
My eyes widen in shock as I feel your legs start to compress my own core. I throw was only half successful, but even so, I gotta admit this is a slight improvement over having my fucking face turned into hamburger meat.
Then you really start to squeeze... ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHh. Maybe I spoke too soon.
I'm taking erratic, shallow breathes each one coming at a great cost and with terrific effort. My eyes are flashing, and I've quickly given up on trying to keep my core flexed. That isn't going to protect my ribs from getting crushed. I'm either going to escape this quickly, or I'm going to get squeezed in two by this fucking monster.
I can feel my ribs start to cave in.... I let out a steam whistle of pure agony as I feel one of them crack... I bring my right hand up, free now, and still holding my baton, try to drive it into the pit of your gut like a spear with every ounce of strength I can muster, my right arm rippling with desperate, savage power.
2020-05-24 09:13
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ERIK ATLAS
watching you quit spending stamina on flexing - my legs CARVE IN DEEP and SNAP pop - You cry out in serious pain and I CRUSH HARDER - yur maneuvering your spearing move with my weight transfer from hand to hand - The busted rib slows u an important beat - BAMMMM rocking your head with my weighted left hook! DRIVE yur face into the floor - yu FIRE that spearing shot and UGHHHHFAWWKKK - still on your left side, my right, my flex slackens as I gag hard for breath - yu shocked my core!
SLAM yur head again! - weaker, but thats what the 5 pound weight is for.
I flex legs but makes me wanna barf from the shock to the gut so its half power, still yur nose a flattened mess, yur eyebrow cut and right eye swelling bad and now blood from yur lips as the squeeze around you is racking up internal damage...
2020-05-24 09:24
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AGENT DEREK STEEL
You have that fucking five pound dumb bell in your hand, and you are using it against my head. My nose is shattered by that fucking weight, gonna take some serious plastic surgery. Forcing me to breathe through my mouth.
Then you hit me a second time, I try to pull my head back, but I don't quite make it, you open a huge cut over my right eye, and it starts to swell. FUCK.... Finding it hard to keep my focus, knowing that one or two more shots and I'm knocked out, and dead soon after.
At least driving my baton into your core slackened the pressure on my core. Hurts like fuck, one of my ribs is broken, but the pressure is lessened enough that there is some value now in flexing core, which I do with tight bursts of breath. I can taste the blood welling up form my battle damaged core, spitting out of my mouth with each breath I'm forcing into my lungs.
You raise that left arm of yours to bash me, and I lash out, breathing through the searing agony building up in my core and my head, snapping that heavy steel baton against your left wrist. It's a move that would normally break a man's wrist, but in your case, I'll be happy if it makes you drop the fucking weight.
I turn the baton back now, flex my bicep, and gasping drive it once again deep into the pit of your gut like a spear, this time scrabbling hard with my boots to pull out from between your legs, and bracing my left arm against your hips, pain and agony shooting through me as I fight to get out of your killer scissors.
2020-05-24 09:44
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ERIK ATLAS
I grind the WORST CRUSHING PRESSURE I CAN into your a mans body crushing the fuck out of you aiming to break your insides and bash yur face in. Yur flagging badly - and thats when yu fuckers pull out tricks - i ignored the baton to go in for the kill - yu SLAM my wrist and the weight drops and scatters 4 feet away SPEAR MY GUTS! UGhhh gagging again - hands grab your baton and yu rock me to my back as my legs slacken - i ROCK THE momentum landing on my left side and carry you with me! My guts spasming and wanna crush you more - thats gonna work badly...wrenching the baton to disarm - GRAB YUR NOSE.... "JUST TAP... let me GO! You don't need me I FUCKING HATE YOU - You have your boys and let me walk away!"
CRUSHING painful wrench on your nose!
My confusion is getting to big to measure - I want to kill this fuker - might even be able to if I get control of that baton - and I shielded him from the falling ceiling and torn up about killing his men. More hurt about killing Baker and scarring Cameron. I scream inside wrenching your nose and know that hurts horrible and hate myself.... I go cold again knowing yur gonna kill me the seconds chance...WRENCH for pain and gonna tear it off
2020-05-24 10:04
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AGENT DEREK STEEL
I manage to get upright for a brief moment, then you rock us back to your left side. I grunt with the effort, pain lancing through my face, my core, my broken rib having done some internal damage.
Spearing you a second time seems to have fucked you up pretty bad, the pressure from your body scissors has fallen off considerably, and I focus on my center, inviting all the pain to move through me freely, not resisting not blocking, continually checking in with my body. I can still hold my core flex, despite the broken rib and the internal damage, for now. My face is badly bashed up, nose is fucked, right eye covered in blood, swollen shut. Cheeks lacerated. Head pounding with pain.
You grapple with me for the baton, but I've got a firm grip, and I'm not about to let go of it easy. You reach out then, and grab my nose, and a whole new level of pain lances through my face. You are trying to fucking tear my nose off...
AUUURGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!
I bellow in agony. But even in my agony, your words sink deep into my being. I hear what you say, and then I hear what you mean. You aren't fighting me... you are fighting yourself. I am just a proxy for that. You want to be one of my men. You need to be one of my men. You can't possibly allow that to happen. The struggle is tearing you apart. This is not about hate. This is about the opposite. This is about finding a place that looks like home and thinking you could never belong. You have no idea who the men were that were helping you. I have no idea what's going to happen when you find out. I never thought we'd be here.
Well.
Fuck me.
There is a unique truth in that insight that carries with it both a responsibility on my part and a power to act. Everything slowed down to the speed of molasses. I balanced on a fine edge as you started to tense yourself to try and tear my nose off. My arm was suddenly around your wrist, my fingers powered by a surge of adrenaline, moving for just a few moments into that space, that place where the superhuman briefly becomes possible. The same place that allowed Atlas to pull the ceiling down.
The same place that allowed Derek Steel to crush the soft underside of your wrist, forcing it to drop like a stone from my nose, streaming blood, and twisted at a very unnatural angle. With a savage heave, I pulled my knee in and up to my chest, breaking your weakening scissors in the process, and sliding forward, immediately swinging my legs and body behind you.
I push, rolling you over onto your chest, reaching under your chest with my arm and grabbing the front of my baton. I groan with effort, but manage to pull that baton down, my two arms against your one, then I pull it up into your ribs as I tuck my elbows deep into my sides, my lats flaring with a clear surge of power, the blood from my mangled face starting to pool between your shoulder blades. My core aching, battered, and bleeding inside. I'm writing checks that my body might not be able to cash later, but there are times in our lives where this must be done. And Cameron is a very good medic. I'm counting on it for both myself and for you.
I find just the right position, then, start to crush with a scream of both effort and pain, my face buried between your shoulder blades, the muscles on my back rippling with power as I pull the baton up into your core, cutting deep into it, my forearms and elbows squeezing inwards against your ribs at the same time, my whole body trembling with terrific force. Cameron comes back, stopping just around the corner, watching with awe as I manage to speak through the terrific effort and extraordinary pain I'm expending with my reverse bearhug, finally answering your cry, "NO... NOT... GONNA TAP... YOU NEED ME AND MY MEN... YOU DESERVE IT... SO TAP ATLAS!"
2020-05-24 12:35
- - - -
ERIK ATLAS
TRAINING DAY - FIGHTING OUTSIDE THE GYM
If you fuck me up enough I go cold, and a surgical precision takes over that make me do what need to be done.
Under that is futility
It's hard to explain the demoralizing crush of every competent thread in my heart and my head to have you pry my hand off in spite of my power advantage, snake out of my mankiller crush like it wasn't there, and mount my back. I make ready for the inevitable chokehold that fighters finish with and mistakenly lift my arms to guard against it. It doesn't happen.
The baton threads around me and yu keep a two handed grip on it, under my chest, under my body cutting into my ribs. It's not like any man-squeeze move you can flex against - the sheer pounds per inch applied alone that meridian where the baton is carving in it EXCRUCIATING
CRUSHING FUTILITY SINKS IN TOO
no!
I get driven flattened- yu carve in DEEP. AWIIIUGHHHHHHHHH! I scream as my ribs are separated and there's no flex that stops it. POUNDING my fist in the floor....gawd this hurts!!! Thrashing I get up to my feet and throw elbows back! and the pain is worse.... I pull to stand - that cold move to fight driving me - I get crushed flat . I get up again! and roll your ride it and put me face down. I.... Can't.... breathe.... hammering my fist to the floor. FUTILITY
NO NO NO NO
"Gawd.... why wont u kill me..." grieving tears running my face as I melt in pain that's wrecking my core. "I can't fight...." hands pushing against your hands not working...nothing working.
You feel my shoulders slacken...
Futility.
I tap
"Kill... me...already..."
2020-05-24 15:04
AGENT DEREK STEEL
Now it's down to the wire. I dug so deep to gain your back that the well was empty.... but that didn't stop me, I just dug it a bit deeper to find what I needed. Warning signals are flooding into my brain from my body, my face, my core. I ignored them all, and just kept squeezing. I was nothing now but the squeeze.
The flex of bicep. The tightening of my lats. The tensing of my damaged core. The steel hard texture of my forearms as I pulled that baton into your ribs with everything I could muster. The crushing force doing nearly as much damage to me as to you, my broken ribs.... wait I thought it was only one.... well, apparently there was more than one .... doing more internal damage as I forced my core to obey my will.
But nothing, not heaven, or earth, or Atlas himself was going to fucking dislodge my grip on this man. He needed this. Every man had to learn how to surrender. Not just tap out, but surrender. Completely. Utterly. Without any hope. It was time for Atlas to learn it as well. Although in his case, I think it was going to take more than one lesson. If I survived this, I might even be there to teach him the second one.
I felt the baton slowly make it's way deeper and deeper into your might core. Carving a path of sheer destruction, decimating your strong, powerful core muscles, your abs, your lats, your ribs bending inward from the savage force, starting to separate one by one.
I was only vaguely aware as you somehow manage to get to your feet, somehow manage to throw elbows back as I crushed inwards tighter and tighter. But my whole being was focused on this one task.... CRUSHING YOU OUT. This was the irresistable force vs. the immovable object. This was a battle between Titans. I shouldn't have been able to even get out of your scissors, and you shouldn't have been able to even begin to stand up. But I had, and you did. So I roared, and crushed you flat again. Then you rolled me over, and I screamed inside my head as your weight compounded the savage injuries to my battle-damaged muscle. But I would not relent, and heaved us back over to flatten you again.
I crushed... and crushed... carving devastation through your core... and was barely aware when you started to slacken... to cry out.... begging me to kill you... I was so in the zone, so utterly focused on this one task that when you submitted, when you tapped out, I couldn't really accept it. It didn't even seem possible... I sluggishly tried to process what was happening, then I jerked even tighter... there was a series of savage CRACKKK SNAPPPP POPPp as I pulled in the baton even deeper, breaking a whole slough of your ribs and cause a stream of blood to pour out of your mouth.
I looked up then, your head laying on it's side, and saw, through my one remaining eye a sight that pierced through my battle frenzy like an arrow of purity. Tears. Glistening on your cheeks, reflecting the light from the corridor lighting. I relaxed, and in a haze, crawled forward. Your eyes were closed now, and you were well knocked out, deeply. Your breath coming in gasps and shudders, convulsions wracking your wrecked muscle. And I bent down, and kissed your cheek, the intimacy of the moment one of the most intense I'd ever experienced. My one good eye released a tear all of it's own.
I stood up, and noticed Cameron looking on, several other guards behind him. There was a question in his eye, a look of wonder on his face. I nodded, then began to issue orders... "Take... him.... tend... to him... then... put him... in the pit.. He.. He..." I looked at astonishment as my body started to tremble. I cough... more blood coming up. I look at Cameron, a puzzled expression.
He looks .... sad? Afraid? He rushes forward and catches me. Why would he do that? I can stand on my own two feet. I'm feeling so woozy now... Oh right... my body is cashing those checks, but I think the bank balance has gone negative. Cameron is crying now, he can't do that, it's not allowed... He touches the ruin of my face, and says, "I've got you Derek.. don't worry, let go... trust me. I've got you.. I'll take care of everything." I said... "Oh... well then... well done Cameron.." And then, I didn't know anything else for a very long while.
2020-05-24 23:36
SEE PART IV
https://venus.chatfighters.com/story/45609
Published: 2020-06-08, viewed 83 times.
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