NEW - NOIR EXTREME WRESTLING

Lauren_James: The Hammerstein Ballroom, home of NOIR is a vibrating wall of noise. I’m ready. The bass for "Iggy Azalea - Fancy" kicks in, and the crowd goes electric. "From the Big Apple... LAUREN JAAAAMEEEEES!" I step through the curtain and the persona takes over instantly. I’m all bratty confidence, swaggering down the ramp in my Ray-Bans, acting like I own every square inch of this building. I high-five a few fans and snub a few others just to keep them guessing. I slide into the ring, and I stand in the center, gesturing wildly . "YES, BABY! THE REAL DEAL IS HERE!" I scream over the roar, my voice lost in the chaos but my message loud and clear. I lean back against the turnbuckle, popping a bubble with my gum and peering over the rims of my sunglasses.

Blue_Eclipse: Your entrance music fades into silence. Seconds tick by, nothing happens... we hear the crowd begin to murmur when suddenly the arena's purple lights go out. On the giant screen, a blue night sky appears when suddenly a light show flashes across the arena and I appear on the ramp, hands behind my back, hips slightly tilted to one side. A small, amused smile plays at the corner of my lips, a wide smile in my eyes. I'm on the ramp standing, proudly rocking my blue and gold outfit as usual. "Lasdies and gentleman, please wellcome for the first time here in NOIR.... she is the crush of your crush.... Bluuuuuuue ECLIPSE !" I make my way to the ring, looking at you with a challenging look during my whole walk. I climb on the appron, slip under the ropes before joining my corner. Hands on my hips

Lauren_James: The bell cuts through the lingering echo of your music. I don’t hesitate. I spring from my corner, staying low to the canvas as I begin a predatory circle around you. My eyes are locked onto yours, matching that "challenging look" with a cold, competitive stare. Before you can even adjust your hands on your hips, I explode forward, closing the distance in a heartbeat to engage in a stiff collar-and-elbow tie-up.

Lauren_James:

Blue_Eclipse: I wasn't expecting such an instant start, the bells hasn't ring and you're already charing at me "You want to play like that ?!" I grunt when we put our hands on each other neck. I bend my knees take a deep breath and push as hard as I can. I push my head against your shoulder doing my best to not stepback. But you're taller and I start to feel it on my shoulder so I raise my right knee trying, to hit your abs with it

Lauren_James: The air rushes out of my lungs in a sharp hiss as your knee finds its mark right in my solar plexus. The strength I had in the lock-up evaporates instantly. My fingers lose their grip on your neck, and I’m forced to double over, clutching my midsection as I stumble back a few steps. I’m gasping for air, my vision blurring for a split second "Fuckk" I groan in pain

Blue_Eclipse: My knee strike lands perfectly, right into the solar plexus, seing you stumbling back after your charge is pretty satisfying to me.. but i'm far to be done with you so I reach your hair with both hands and drag you back to me with authority. "Come back here bloundy !" I shoot before placing you into a side headlock. My arm is wraped around your neck, I lower my hips forcing you to bend forward and I pressssss and squeeze your nech and head against my chest.

Lauren_James: I let out a sharp cry of pain as you snag my hair, the sudden jerk snapping my head back and dragging me right into your clutches. You’ve got that side headlock cinched in tight, and the pressure against my carotid is making my ears ring. "Nngh..." I groan, my face turning a flushed pink as you squeeze your arm against my neck. My airway is constricted, and I can feel the strength of your hips keeping me bent at a mercy-inducing angle. I won't just fade out, though. My right hand comes up, desperately pawing and clawing at your ribs, looking for any grip to distract you. When that doesn’t break the seal, I clench my fist and begin driving my elbow repeatedly into your midsection.

Blue_Eclipse: It's getting difficult for me to hold you in place, before the claws, now the elbow strike into my midsection.. I need to change. So I grab the side of your trunks, pull hard enough on them to make you moove and drop on my back, trying to plant the top of your foreahead into the canvas in a powerful snap DDT

Lauren_James: The world flips upside down in a blur of blue and gold. One second I’m fighting the headlock, the next, the torque on my trunks yanks me off balance and sends me spiking downward. My forehead bounces off the hard mat with a sickening crack. White light flashes behind my eyes as the impact rattles my jaw. My body reacts on pure instinct instead of lying flat and letting you cover me, I use the harrowing momentum of the snap to tumble forward, performing a frantic, clumsy roll across the ring. I end up slumped against the bottom turnbuckle in the far corner, one hand clutched to my head, my eyes glassy as I try to shake off the dizziness. I’m vulnerable, shaking my head to stop the arena from spinning, but I've managed to put a few feet of distance between us.

Blue_Eclipse: My back slam the canvas while your head bounces on it, with a such impact, I want to try an early pin but you manage to roll aways. So I take my time to get up, using the ropes, looking at you trying to regroup yourself in the corner. By pure instinct you reach the opposite corner and place the head at the perfect place for me. I smile, lick my lips before adjusitng my trunks. Everybody know what's coming so I don't tease the crowd more than needed. I start to run, screaming going faster and faster, trying to reach my limits.. at the last moment I turn around and try to slam my ass into your face with a brutal, raw running hip attack "RAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

Lauren_James: I can hear the roar of the crowd building and the heavy thud-thud-thud of your boots sprinting across the canvas. My head is still ringing, but that primal instinct for survival kicks in. Out of the corner of my eye, I see you spinning, putting all that momentum into a devastating hip attack. At the very last microsecond, as you launch yourself into the air, I reach up and snag the middle rope with both hands. I put every ounce of remaining strength into my arms and core, heaving my hips upward and swinging my legs through the ropes. I practically levitate out of the corner, my body arching over the middle strand and onto the apron just as you come flying in.

Blue_Eclipse: I don't see you getting outside of the ring and get completly surprised when my ass lands on the hard turnbukle instead on your face. I feel my booty jiggling on the impact, giving a splendid shoot for the cemara but an intense pain to me "Arghhhhhh!" I arch my back a bit before dropping all on four. I rub it half embarassed half in pain. I strech my leg a bit, slowly getting up to start walking again but with quite some difficulty "Ughhh that's.. mff painful..." I complain rubbing it over and over trying to make the pain pass

Lauren_James: I don’t give you a second to recover or keep rubbing that "splendid" target. Seeing you on all fours, struggling to shake off the impact, is exactly the opening I needed. I slide back under the bottom rope like a viper, my eyes locked on your exposed back. As you gingerly try to stand and regain your dignity, I explode toward you. I catch you before you can even take a full step away from the turnbuckles, slamming my forearm across your collarbone and pinning you deep into the corner. The air leaves your lungs again as my weight traps you against the padding. I want the whole arena to hear this. I wind my right arm back, pulling it so far behind my head that my chest expands, and then I try to deliver a huge chop right across your chest.

Blue_Eclipse: Your vicious strike to my back send me in the corner "Ughhh!" I grab the top ropes and push myselff away from it but you hold me back and when I turn around to face you.. *SLAAAAAAAAPPPPP* the most brutal chop of the night lands right on my and even take my right breast on its way. I'm shocked, paralazed, mouth wide open I try to scream but nothing come out. I slowly drop on my knees holding my poor chest in my hands. the crowd is silent as well all of them looking at each other wondering what they just heard. I'm on my knees, arms crossed over my chest, head on the ground still feeling the impact in my whole body.

Lauren_James: I reach down and grab a thick handful of your hair, my knuckles grazing your scalp as I force you to look at me. "Get up, brunie," I growl, the adrenaline surging as I haul you back to your feet. You're dead weight, but I don't care; I shove you violently back into the corner, the turnbuckles rattling under your spine. Before you can even catch your breath, I grip the top rope for leverage and drive my boot upward, wedging my foot firmly under your chin. I lean all my weight into it, pinning your throat against the padding. I can feel your pulse racing against the sole of my boot as I choke the air out of you. "ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!" The referee is right in my face, screaming the count. At the very last second FOUR and a half I smirk and snap my leg back down, releasing the pressure just enough to stay in the match.

Blue_Eclipse: I grab the ropes trying to resist, making myself heavier when you grab my hair. You struggle a little bit but you slowly manage to bring me back on my feet and throw me hardly in the corner. "Urfffff!" I put my arms above the top rope, resting there a little bit when you pull your boot on my chin and push.. over and over, forcing my head above the turnbukle. I'm on my toes but you keep going, pushing it even more. my boots now leave the canvas, I'm traped in the corner lifted by my neck, impossible to breath. I start to cough, holding your ankle with my both hands until the referee forces you to break it up. I drop on my ass, legs spread in the corner coughing, spitting saliva on the mat. I breath loudly, with pain

Lauren_James: I don’t give you a second to clear your lungs. As you slump to the canvas, gasping and spitting, I’m already looming over you. I look down at you with a cold, detached expression no "crush" feelings here, just business. I grab you by the shoulders and shove you downward until your throat is draped right over the bottom rope. The hemp is rough and unforgiving against your skin. Before you can slide away, I drop to one knee and press my heavy kickpad firmly against the back of your head. I grab the middle rope for leverage and lean all my weight into it, grinding your face toward the mat while the rope cuts into your windpipe from the other side. "Stay down there," I growl, feeling the vibration of your coughs through my boot. "ONE! TWO! THREE!" The referee is sliding onto the mat, counting right in my ear. I stare her down, not moving an inch until she hits "FOUR!" I finally snap my leg back, standing up and smoothing out my gear while you’re left tangled in the ropes, clutching your throat for the second time in a minute.

Blue_Eclipse: I can't rest for a second, I breath once and then i'l already getting chocked against the ropes. It rub on my skiin, the friction burning me letting some natsy red mark across my chest and neck. The ref is furious counting to four more quickly than for the first time. When you step back I bounce off the ropes, roll on my back, kicking the mat with my boots holding my neck in my hands. I'm in trouble, overwhelmed. As you smoothing your gear mine is in total mess, my top slided a bit on the side showing the big red mark your chop did to me. The crowd is behind me, the match took a completly different turn after the missed hips attack

Lauren_James: The "Blue Eclipse" fan club is getting loud, but their cheers don’t put air back in your lungs. I look out at the front row, a dismissive smirk on my face, and roll my eyes. I step toward your huddled, coughing form and once again lace my fingers through your hair, hauling you up to your feet by the roots. I pivot on my heel and launch you with a vicious Irish Whip toward the opposite side of the ring. I watch your back hit the ropes, the tension of the ropes snapping you back toward me with high velocity. As you come rebounding back, stumbling and breathless, I break into a full sprint. I tuck my chin and stiffen my arm like an iron bar, throwing my entire body weight into a massive Clothesline aiming right across your neck.

Blue_Eclipse: I get up slowly pulled by my hair once again. You grab my forearm throwing me in the opposite ropes. Taking in the momentum I have no choice than boucning in them and comeback at you running. You raise your amr, going for a large but obvious clothesline. I duck under your arm at the last second to slide on your back. I grab the front of your trunks, start to lift you from the ground. Too exhausted I can't lift you how I wanted so I keep spining a little bit to use the momentum of your run and plan you neck first in a perfect german suplex. I arch my body as deep as I can, on the tip of my boots, holding your waist to pin you on the ground traped in the suplex position.

Lauren_James: The momentum of my own charge becomes my undoing. One second I’m aiming to decapitate you with a clothesline, and the next, the air beneath my boots vanishes. "AAAAAAAHHHH!" My scream is cut short as the world tilts violently. You use every ounce of my velocity to snap me backward. My spine arches into a forced curve, and for a terrifying heartbeat, I’m suspended in the air before BAAAAAM! The back of my neck and shoulders collide with the canvas with a bone-jarring thud. The impact is so precise, so sudden, that the air is driven out of my lungs in a silent puff. You hold the bridge, your body arched beautifully, trapping me in the pin. My eyes are wide, staring at the rafters, as the referee slides into position. "ONE!" My brain is screaming for my limbs to move, but they feel like lead. "TWO!" At the very last fraction of a second, pure survival instinct takes over. I explode upward, jerking my shoulder off the mat with a desperate heave. I don't stay there to be a target; I use the force of the kick-out to tumble backward, my body flopping over in a clumsy, disoriented roll. I end up sprawled belly-down on the canvas, my head ringing and my vision swimming in shades of Noir purple. My breath is coming in ragged hitches. I reach out a trembling hand, my fingers scratching at the mat as I try to crawl toward the sanctuary of the bottom rope, dragging my heavy frame inch by agonizing inch.

Blue_Eclipse: The atmosphere shifts abruptly. A perfectly fluid german suplex, seamless transition,u ut of nowhere, from a 19-year-old woman, leaves everyone stunned. I straighten up like a zombie. I'm completely focused, nothing else matters in that moment to me,not the crowd, not my messy hair, not the referee wanting to check you. I have only one goal: my next move, and your exposed neck. In the silence, I charge behind you, jump, and go for a scissor knee strike. I mercilessly aim for the back of your head with a sharp, brutal running knee strike, seeking to knock you out for good.

Lauren_James: PAAAASHHH! The impact of your knee against the base of my skull is deafening. It’s not just a strike; it’s a total system override. My head snaps forward, my jaw rebounding off the canvas with a sickening, hollow thud. The arena lights vanish. My vision white-outs instantly, and my eyes roll back into my head until only the whites are showing. My body loses all structural integrity, and I collapse face-first into the mat, my limbs sprawling out like a broken marionette. I lie there, motionless, my cheek pressed into the cold, gritty vinyl. A thin trail of drool begins to pool at the corner of my mouth, and my right hand gives a few weak, involuntary twitches, my fingers scratching uselessly at the canvas.

Blue_Eclipse: I finish my run in the rope, sitting next to your limp body. I'm leaning over the rope, my arms over them. I look at the crowd before slowly turning my head towards you. I push my head against your. "You thought this was a game? I'll show you some real game... not sure you'll be able to see anything after this." I stand up determined, holding your hair firmly in my hands. I pull you towards me, forcing you to stand, to balance as best you can... before pushing your head between my tighs. From there, an infinite number of possibilities open up to me, but I have my little preference, a move I rarely use but have secretly practiced. I grab the back of your knees and lift you upside down, compressing your body as much as possible. "Ughhh, you're... heavy!" I groan before holding you in place. You're curled up, your assets on full display for the camera in your little gear, while I hold you like a package pillerdriver, keeping your legs apart to ensure the scene is filmed. "Last words, bitch?"

Lauren_James: The world is a red, throbbing blur as the blood rushes to my head. I’m completely folded, my spine compressed and my legs pulled wide, leaving me totally exposed to the cameras and the jeering Noir crowd. I have no strength left to fight the gravity or your grip. "Nnn-gh..." A guttural, pained groan escapes my throat, muffled against the fabric of your gear. The pressure on my neck is agonizing, and the humiliation of being held like a trophy a "package" ready to be dropped. I can feel the hot sting of tears pricking my eyes, mixing with the sweat and the saliva on my face. I'm drifting in and out of lucidity, the lights of the arena spinning in chaotic circles beneath me. "Just..." I choke out, my voice cracking into a pitiful, broken sob. My spirit is clearly snapped. "Just... fi... nish... me..."

Blue_Eclipse: I hold you in place, hopping a little bit on my feet to make your body bounce in my arms at my will. I quickly notice you stop resisting, somehow accepting your fate. Is it a reason to let you go ? Not at all. I jump and spike your neck on the canvas, in the middle of the ring without any consideration. I clim on you, pin your both arms over your head while mounting on your belly... "ONE... TWO.... THREE" *DING DING DING* the referee make the count before the bell rings. I get up, not even looking at you, fixing my hair and gear and climb in the corner. I send few kisses to the fan before making my way back to the NOIR's lockeroom for a well deserved hot shower

Lauren_James: The impact of that package piledriver is the final "off" switch for my system. When my neck spikes into the canvas, it’s not just pain—it’s a total white-out. I don't even feel you mounting me for the pin. The referee’s hand hitting the mat ONE, TWO, THREE is just a distant, rhythmic thud that I’m too far gone to answer. When the bell rings, I’m still staring at the rafters with glazed, unblinking eyes, my mind a static-filled void. As you climb the turnbuckle to soak in your victory, I’m a ghost in my own match. I feel a subtle, firm pressure against my side the lady ref’s boot discreetly and careless nudging my limp body. It’s the professional cue to clear the stage for the winner. On pure autopilot, I respond to the touch, rolling like a heavy log toward the edge of the ring. I tumble over the apron, landing in a heap on the thin floor mats outside. The cool floor feels like the only solid thing in a spinning world. I grab the barricade for support, my legs shaking like jelly as I force myself to stand. I don’t look back at the ring. I don't look at the crowd. I just wobble toward the backstage curtain, one hand clutching my throbbing neck and the other braced against the wall for balance. (end?)

Lauren_James:

Lauren_James: