Threaded Mode | Linear Mode

Atara Raven · **11-04-2025, 11:13 PM**

0 - 2 and now versus the legendary Centurion. Atara had given two lackluster performances against the XWF Hall of Legends member, and not only two lackluster performances, but half energy affairs that honestly were down right disrespectful to the mans reputation and their relationship as friends. She owed Centurion a lot both professionally and privately. He had always been a supporter of hers in the ring, even at her worst when he had should've probably one of the many wanting her rubbed from the industry. He had stood beside James at their wedding, been present at Ismini's baptism, they had infact shared many a family dinner and what she did give him return.

Nothing.

Twice she had given him nothing. Two meaningless wins in his already mountainous resume of victories and accomplishments. Two wins he could hardly brag about and now the bookers had deemed it fitting to put them in the ring a third time.

They were obviously banking on a third heartless performance because the Anarchy title had been kept off the table, no doubt Dick protecting his new champion from further embarrassment. Perhaps it was her bank-ability, the belief she was still a commodity, and it showed she had just enough of his support that she should be given a third opportunity to redeem herself and prove she could win against the best XWF had to offer.

Atara owed it to Centurion to give it her all this round. She owed it to Anarchy to prove she was the rightful champion to replace Michael Graves. This match may have seemed just another mid card time filler to some, but in reality it was a possible career defining moment for the one the fans called The Goddess. It should have had her full attention.

Except that it didn't.

Because at the end of the day Atty couldn't give two fucks about was owed or about what was expected. She didn't need to prove anything about her skill in the ring. She didn't need to pad her resume with victories over legends. Atara had already achieved in her short career what she had sought out to achieve and win or lose she had always kept it.

The adoration of the public.

Title or no title. Booked or not booked. Atara was the face and the voice of brand.

He was right, Centurion, in what he had said at Warfare. He and she were in fact similar in the regard that they lived for the rush the pop of a crowd imbued. He was right in the regard in the fact that rush was what kept bringing them back, but Centurion had failed to mention was that Atty lived for that rush on a whole another level than he did. Centurion needed that rush supplemented with validation of milestone victories and white knight moments. Centurion sailed a ship named Insecurity and couldn't be satisfied with simply riding a calm sea of victory to discover new land. It had to be the choppiest of waters. It was never about sportsmanship but one-upmanship.

For Atty, while all these things were definitely a boon, she simply lived for...

... showmanship.

So while management had booked this third attempt in hopes of brand redemption, wondering if Atara would actually give a full effort, while the locker room rolled their eyes thinking Centurion had been given another easy win, and while Centurion walked around thinking legacy and the last two matches made his victory all but inevitable, and while all three combined wondered if she would give Centurion the attention and respect he deserved, while the issue of Betsy and her little message still loomed in the back of her head, Atara would play the part she was born to play.

She invested her energy into those who would return it by the boat load.

The fans.

This fight would take place amongst them and Centurion was the selfish braggart that only took from them but not the Goddess. On a podium in the middle Fabrik Madrid's dance floor she was the representative of the brand, she was the Gogo that set the atmosphere of their world. In time at 130 beats per minute her body rolled, her hair whipped, and hips swayed so that all eyes were hers. She engaged the crowd letting them feed off in the excitement of just being in her presence as she would and had theirs.They didn't question her, they didn't doubt her, they simply lived in the moment she had provided.

Anarchy 's Alpha Pussy was popping in the way only it could. The only question on their minds, if there was one, was whether or not an old and deteriorating Centurion could match it. Could he shed that moniker of boring and skip the repetitive political overtones, could he step away from the mundane domestic white picket fence narrative, could he tear away from the past he was so proud of and finally lived in the moment?

They didn't wonder if Atty would step up to his level, they wondered if he could step up to hers.

Could he be entertaining?

Could he match her energy?

Could Captain Consistent sail his ship into foreign waters and be something worth a....

Final Fantasy.

Or would he drop another dud like he had the Xtreme Title and all the Universal Title shots and just keep living in his fucking own.

"Your pussy don't pop, Dove."

[Image: 1GBhHd9.gif]

"My pussy Explodes."

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode GoGo Alpha Pussy
Author	Message