Long Form Roleplayers

Link to Round 2, Part 2 of 2
Link to Beginning of the Story

20:07 Joanna_Louvier: With the exception of lions, cats, in the wild, are solitary hunters. And when they are sick or tired or injured, they hide their injuries, lick their wounds, and avoid human contact at all costs. Me? Maybe my smile, similar to purring, is intended to to self-soothe, triggering the release of hormones that promote healing, as I’ve heard domestic cats do.
20:08 Joanna_Louvier: Or maybe I’m a lioness, incapable of purring, just growling, bearing my teeth, ready to put it all on the line for my pride. Claws out. My hide tough and rugged. Taking your teeth and claws in stride as we engage in a primal, bloody struggle for survival. Maybe you’re about to feel my fangs sink in. Maybe you’re about to hear my roar.
20:09 Joanna_Louvier: The bell has rung, and it’s go time. The hemostat from my cutman has bought me a couple minutes, maybe, assuming I can keep you from hitting me in the head again, before the bleeding becomes a problem again… I need to end this, and fast. You’re hurt all over, and I’ve managed to slow you down, but I can’t underestimate your strength and endurance. I need to tire you out and create an opening.
20:09 Joanna_Louvier: I arrive at center cage and await your arrival, as you limp to meet me on your still partially paralyzed left leg. You’re not going to be throwing any kicks at this point, I imagine. Knowing your style, and in particular, coming to learn your ethos throughout the course of this bout, I suspect you would rather not damage my face anymore than you already have. I could see you maybe throwing some body blows, or maybe just going in for the takedown immediately. Hell, you can barely stand as it is.
20:10 Joanna_Louvier: Keeping my body pointed almost sideways to you like a Tae Kwon Do fighter, with my left leading to an extreme degree, and my right hand open palmed in front of my right cheek, I throw out a full extension jab to your guard, then pushing off my left foot back a step and pushing off my right leg to circle out to my left/your right. I want to see you throw a retaliatory punch, miss and overextend yourself, and try to chase me.
20:10 Joanna_Louvier: Forgive me if that’s a little predictable. Then I throw a quick front snap kick with my left leg, trying to catch your face or body coming in low and aggressive towards me. Take another step back if I can get away with that, and circle left. And as I’m putting on this show of dancing all around you like I did last round, I’ll be ready and waiting to counter, in the event you come at me for a takedown. [J1]

21:45 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: The bell rings for the third round of this epic battle, and the injured lion king limps out into the center of the octagon, to face the fierce and ready lioness trying to become queen. It's obvious to anyone watching this fight that the cut on your right cheek is merely cosmetic. Offering no threat to your vision, or impairing you in any way except that it's a wound to protect. My left leg is similarly recovering, though still just as vulnerable. Nothing broken on either of us yet. My face beaten and bruised, welts all over my torso and that big boot print in the middle of my chest still throbbing in my memory, it's clear we are both leaving this fight... marked.
21:45 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: You're faster than me, of course. You've been faster than me during this entire fight. Those long powerful legs of yours easily propelling you anywhere you want to go, dancing circles around me. The tall, lithe, bleeding lioness, stalking the big burly beaten lion. Your task, to take me down piece by piece, punch by punch, kick by kick, death by a thousand cuts, knowing if you get in close and stay in close, you'll be just another meal.
21:45 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: Your stance as you come out of your corner in this third round, gorgeous as always. Elegant. Poised. Your right hand protecting the gash on your cheek, your left ready to strike. And strike it does, your left hand striking out towards my guard, and of course I parry it to the side with my own left. This time, I think I'll be clever. Remembering our earlier rounds, I don't just parry that left, I simultaneously strike with a heavy right straight, looking to mimic the blow that nearly ended me in the first round. Thinking myself clever, thinking I'll start this round back in the control I crave.
21:45 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: Except unlike your beautiful retaliatory blow, mine misses you completely, thrown a full foot in front of where your head used to be, as you're already moving back. Realizing my mistake, I shift my weight, I swing a heavy left hook, looking to catch up with my own mistake, and catch you on the retreat. Instead of standing there ready to catch my fist, however, you're already leaning back into a snap kick, and my left fist swings a few inches in front of your nose. In reply, your left foot landing perfectly on my right jaw, cheek, and eye, interrupting my momentum in a spectacular display of sweat and drool launching back off my beaten face.
21:45 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: My momentum already stopped by your footwork dodging my heavy blows and smashing my face, I'm left swaying slightly in the middle of the ring trying to catch my balance and find you. Stepping in towards you again as I pull my guard back. Inching towards you with my vision clouding over again. This body of yours can't take much more, lion king. If you're going to hold onto this title, you need to take this lioness down. Somehow. [G1]

22:13 Joanna_Louvier: Your efforts to pursue me are almost as predictable as my opening volley itself. I’ve got you chasing me, swinging, missing, and tiring yourself out, leaving you open to return fire, as my snap kick smacks under your chin, and my instep grazes your cheek and eye as the kick extends, swaying you to your left. I take that next step back, and then another out to my left. Making myself a hard target to keep track of. Still, I know that as hurt as you are, you’re still powerful, and I can’t underestimate that power, and its ability to turn the tables. It may feel like we’re at the end of this fight, but this is only the first minute of the third round.
22:22 Joanna_Louvier: The cut on my cheek, while not a major structural weak point, is certainly making me impatient to finish this fight. I start to visualize the move I intend to use… it’s a gamble, a but so is staying in here for another 5 minutes, slugging it out with the world heavyweight champion. As much as you are beaten up, punch drunk, and both of your eyes swollen to the point of practically blinding you, your movement tells me you are still very much in this fight. And I need to use all of my speed and every inch of my reach to keep you chasing me, until the point where it’s time to finally execute my plan.
22:22 Joanna_Louvier: I need to keep my mobility up, so as I circle to my left, I launch another jab, generally at your head, maybe your forehead, to slow your pursuit and frustrate you. This time, stepping back, bobbing low, and then coming back to my full height as I throw another jab, then take two big steps to my left, trying to literally dance circles around you. It’s a workmanlike strategy, but it’s what I need to do right now to set up the finish. [J2]

22:28 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: Ten minutes is a LONG time to fight. I don't care what kind of fight you're fighting, be it on your feet or on the ground, ten minutes takes world class endurance, world class conditioning, and world class gumption. Then minute 11 ticks by, and the fight is still on. A fight at this point takes on a War of Attrition flavor, and it becomes less about who is the more dominant fighter, and who is the more resilient. It's a matter of stubbornness. Persistence. When the flashy win is behind you, you're aching and bleeding, and you just want to end it and go home. And yet... you still NEED to fight. So many opponents have flat out given up by this point and let themselves submit, or get knocked out, or flat out find an EXCUSE to tap out. But not Joanna Louvier. And certainly not the world champion. I swing one club fist, and miss. I swing another club fist again, and miss. Every missed punch costing me twice what a landed one would cost.
22:35 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: Inching towards you, it's become clear I will not be able to punch you out. You're too fresh, too athletic, and you've landed too many heavy blows on me to take you down with strikes now. Even a man in my condition can only take so much. And every time you land a blow on my broken down body, I feel it through my bones. I inch towards you, trying not to make it too obvious I'm looking at your hips, calculating the distance to a takedown. You circle off to my right as I inch towards you, moving at least twice as fast as I am now. My attention low to your body's primary pivot at your hips, you snap me to attention with a jab that lands hard on my right zygomatic arch, adding a new mouse to my already bruised up and beaten face.. WHAP. My head rocking back, and falling forward, bobbing a few times before I regain focus. I swing a heavy right hook at your left jaw, careful to avoid that big cut on your right cheek that might stop the fight in a TKO if you bleed too much.
22:38 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: You bob under my hook. Of course you do. My punches must seem ponderously slow to you at this point. Returning to your full six-foot-two height, the five inches you were naturally born with added to the extra few from my body hunching over, towering over me, and you toss another jab over my missed hook, landing flush on my already puffed up lips, drawing another trickle of blood from my mouth down my cheek and into my beard.. THWAP. By the time I catch sight of you again, you've already danced away. I know I can't end you with strikes anymore. That ship has sailed. Only one chance left now, and that's with a takedown. If only I can find an opening... [G2]

23:13 Joanna_Louvier: This next part feels like I’m climbing up to the top of the high dive, or up to the uneven bars. It’s an event, and I need to execute perfectly. Truth be told, I’ve always been self-conscious about my grappling, but I know that in the current situation, that’s exactly what I will be doing whether I like it or not, as soon as you make the decision to go for that takedown. Because I’ve really given you no other option. You can barely keep up with me enough to get in close enough to box, you can’t kick, and you can’t really afford to continue letting me dance around, smacking your poor punch-addled skull with jab after jab.
23:19 Joanna_Louvier: I see you eyeing my hips—not in the way most guys do… but… maybe a little. Well, it’s hard to tell exactly, given how swollen those eyelids are. But I know you’ve made the decision. It’s just about “when.” And so as you turn again to your right, trying to find me as I circle wide around you, I step in slightly on my right foot to feed you that opportunity… chambering my left knee, swinging my left shin and instep out at your right side, not so much trying to kick you in the liver as I am just giving you an opening. Letting my left foot “stick” to your side a little longer than a world class kickboxer should. Knowing you will know what to do with it. After all… how could you turn down such a tempting target? And when you do take the bait, it just comes down to who can execute faster. And my next move is chambered like the last arrow from a determined huntress’s quiver, nocked and ready to let fly. [J3]

23:27 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: Several missed punches later... several retaliatory blows to my face later... I'm even more of a beaten, bruised, bloody mess than I was at the beginning of the round, and no further ahead in taking you down and ending you. My focus shifting away entirely from strikes, as there is no longer any point in trying to hit you - I simply can't. You're too fast, too fresh, too strong, too skilled, and every striking advantage I had at the beginning of this fight has vaporized into thin air. I can't punch you. I can't kick you. I can't touch you... at all. And you are still free to pick me apart. Panting, bleeding, drooling over my mouthguard as I huff and puff across the rubber with my puffed up lips, searching desperately for that one little opening. That's all I need. Just one mistake. One hesitation. One miscalculation that I can take advantage of. And then... the heavens open, and a gift from God himself descends.
23:34 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: You stop punching my lights out one snappy little jab at a time, and heave that strong, sexy Redwood killing leg at my body, and I do the math. If I take that hit flush, I'm done. I'd have an easier time grabbing you, but I'm done. My body's instincts take over, and I lower my right elbow to block your big heavy strike, that lands with a THHWWAACCK on my right bicep pulled down to my side, temporarily stunning that arm with a shock through my nerves and muscles that sends a new wave of agony through my body. Still, this is life or death. I take the blow to my arm, and almost on autopilot now, snake it over your left leg and under your knee, my left hand SLAPPING over the lower portion of your left quadricep, putting everything I've got into locking down that left leg. Stepping back on my right foot now, lowering my chest down to your thigh, pulling down and to the right,
23:34 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: I shove my left shoulder into your lower abdomen, looking to complete a single left leg takedown. You're mine now, Lioness... [G3]

23:47 Joanna_Louvier: Joanna_Louvier: Alright, this is it—do or die. I just gave you the one thing you need in order to win. If I fuck this up, it’s over for me. I’m all in. And I always bet on myself. As soon as I feel that right arm of yours snaking over my left leg, your left arm locking down my left quad just above the knee, and your right foot stepping back, your body dipping low and to your right in an effort to pull me off balance and execute that single leg takedown, I put all the strength I have in my right leg into pulling my guard, jumping off that leg and swinging it up and against your left pectoral, clinching my hands behind your head to keep my knee pinned tightly to your chest, just as you begin thrusting your body forward to try to shove that big left shoulder into my abdomen… surprise, Mr. King of the Jungle…
23:51 Joanna_Louvier: THUD!!! My back slams down to the canvas as you crash down on top of me. My right knee pressing into your pectoral muscle, your weight pressing down on me… you are… heavy. And, damn… strong. Fuck. This is already harder than I thought it would be. I need to block you from getting past my right knee, if I don’t want to end up looking foolish. Dragging that knee up into your shoulder, trying to block you from getting through, but also readying my leg to sweep over your back at just the right moment…
23:51 Joanna_Louvier: Even if I manage to get my leg over your back, the challenging part will be forming the triangle and locking you in, since I will need to get my left knee over my right ankle, and I’ll need to drag your right arm across my hips to trap your neck against that big, meaty right shoulder… and once you see what I’m trying to do, I’m sure you will do everything you can to resist.
23:52 Joanna_Louvier: I reach forward and grip my left hand over your right tricep, hooking my right glove through your right armpit at the same time, clasping my hands together, trying to break your strong grip on my left leg… it’s my two arms against your one arm, but it’s not easy, not by a long shot. “HRRRRGSSSHHH” gritting and biting down on my mouthguard, I grunt and breathe out forcefully, trying to use whatever leverage I have to beat your brute strength, in spite of the slick sweat on your arms, and my skin. Grasping your muscular, firm triceps with both hands, thinking about what those arms are capable of. Knowing, firsthand, what your arms can do to me—have done to me… but even in this moment of bitter struggle, imagining boundless possibilities beyond that.
23:53 Joanna_Louvier: Arching with my powerful back muscles, engaging my entire back to turn my spine into essentially a third arm in the ultimate arm wrestling match, channeling all of that power into breaking that grip and controlling your right arm, with both my left and right hands sliding my grip down to your forearm, to make it impossible for you to maintain your grip on my left leg any longer... Admiring the thick hair, and the firm, defined extensor muscles of your outer forearm as I lock my grip around your wrist…
23:54 Joanna_Louvier: At the same time, slipping my right knee up, my shin sweeping outside of and over your left shoulder, and then sliding my right calf over your trapezius muscle, and clamping my right inner thigh tightly against your neck. Your neck and your right arm wedged between my legs as you bear down on me with your heavy, powerful upper body, trying to resist and stop me from setting up the triangle… [J4]

00:10 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: Snaking both my strong left arm, AND my strong right arm around that powerful, muscular leg of yours, DRIVING into your hips, I KNOW I've got this under control now. You're on one leg, and I'm on two. I've got your second leg under my control. You're in MY world now, and I'm TAKING. YOU. DOWN. Stepping back with my right foot, driving my left shoulder into your hip, DRIVING your upper body into the canvas with a VERY satisfying THUD. You manage to get your right knee bent up into my chest though, dragging along my left pectoral muscle, into my shoulder, as we land, nearly breaking my grip. Fuck... it hits me, as the math finally adds up... you PLANNED this, didn't you...
00:13 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: You snake your left hand over my tricep, and your right hand under my arm pit, taking hold of one of my thick, muscular arms with both of yours... do you like how my muscles feel, Lioness?... and arch back to YANK my fingers apart, leaving my right arm under the tight control of both of your hands. NO... no... don't you dare... and before I can adequately react, you've slipped your right shin off my left shoulder, and slung your right leg around the left side of my neck, SLAMMING into my neck muscles with that incredibly powerful right thigh of yours.. FUUUCCK...
00:17 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: I DRIVE into your body, understanding now what you've been going for this whole time. You arch back HARD, pulling my right arm with you, and I get up onto both my feet in a tripod over you, folding your body over, looking down into your eyes, as I drip sweat into your chest, from over top of you, in between your legs. I'm sure you can see the panic in my eyes, the determination, as I grit my teeth. NO YOU DON'T... I start to POWER into you with both my legs, REFUSING to stay low, and DETERMINED to stay above you, the superior strength of your two arms successfully drags my right arm across your hips, preventing me from grabbing your right shoulder in defense. FUCK you're strong... how are you this strong, after all you've been through... Simply DRIVING you across the canvas now with my right elbow digging into those stunningly perfect abdominal muscles of yours, as you arch up and try to press my right arm into your right hip, setting me up for a triangle choke... [G4]

20:27 Joanna_Louvier: “UGHHhh…” Fuck, fuck, fuck… God, it hurts… your right elbow pressing into my sensitive navel like a splitting wedge (NOT the lumberjack fantasy I was hoping for) as you manage to regain some posture before I’m able to lock my legs over your back… you’ve been putting my abs through hell all throughout this match, and this may be the final crucible. My sports bra dragging against the rough canvas, the rear bottom strap being pulled down, causing the front to ride up, higher and higher, the front bottom strap hugging the underside of my breasts, cleavage showing from the wrong direction now as your sweat drips down on me. Hope you’re enjoying the show, Greg. Maybe it will help you relax a bit. You need to settle down.
20:29 Joanna_Louvier: My long blonde ponytail tugged along beneath me as you drive my body across the canvas, trying to fold me up like a fucking sleeping bag… while I try to collapse your stance in the opposite direction, turning a right angle into a straight line, trying to deny you that leverage. It’s a desperate, high stakes, winner-take all battle of attrition at this point… everything we have ever put into our training, our conditioning, our preparation for this fight, and every single move we have made in the cage up to this point is a factor in deciding the winner of this brutal test of strength, determination, and sheer willpower. And despite everything you’ve put me through… or maybe, because of it… I feel so fucking strong right now.
20:33 Joanna_Louvier: Hanging onto that wrist of yours for dear life, with both hands, I twist my torso, engaging what’s left of my battered, bright red obliques, a ream cables twisting under sweat-slick skin as I engage my muscles to drag your arm across my hips, so that it’s resting over my right hip… meanwhile, bringing my left leg up to meet my right ankle… scooting my body backwards and trying break down your position… Now, all I need to do is… hook my left knee… over my right ankle… “HRRRGGHH…” I strain, lifting my left leg to try to hook my knee over my right ankle… Come on, almost there… I feel my legs hooking together. The tight lock, closing up around your neck and your arm… PUSHHHING your right arm into that groove in my hip, SQUEEEEZING my right thigh and calf around your neck, PULLLING down on my right ankle with my left hamstrings, glutes, and back… You’re finally between my legs, Greg… Make yourself comfortable… [J5]

03:50 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: My one, thick, hairy arm versus the two steel cables you've got latched on to that arm... in simple mathematical terms, it would be no contest. But this isn't mathematics. This is physics. It's chemistry. It's biology. It's even a little bit of magic. It's you, and it's me, and it's... jiu jitsu. "I am a shark, the ground is my ocean, and most people can't even swim" quoth the legendary Rickson Gracie.
03:50 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: Hell, most people don't even know that in Brazil where Brazilian Jiu Jitsu was developed by the Gracie family after further refining the ground fighting newaza techniques they learned from visiting Japanese fighter Mitsuo Maeda, student of Jigoro Kano, himself a student of traditional Japanese Jiu Jitsu and the creator of Judo, the "R" in Rickson's name is pronounced like an 'H', and what 'H'ickson meant is that fighting on the ground is as dramatically different from fighting on your feet, as a shark in the water is different from a lion fighting on the plain.
03:50 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: And on the ground, two arms don't necessarily beat one. Because that arm is attached to a shoulder, which is attached to a spine which is attached to hips which are attached to feet which are attached to the Earth itself, and the hips pressing into the Earth are by far the strongest point of leverage in the human body. In a tripod over you now with my feet spread wide, your two arms aren't just fighting my one arm. You're fighting the leverage I can generate from rotating my shoulders, and my powerful hips.
03:50 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: And so, I fight, because I see what you're trying to do. I have a few options to save myself, and nearly all of them evaporate one by one when you shoulder walk backwards with my right arm under your control, sliding down my hairy forearm to my wrist and simultaneously arching to pull that arm across the arrows printed over your tightly wrapped, firm and sweaty breasts enclosed in your signature skin tight green top, and past your meaty shoulder before I can grab onto it... fuck you have a strong grip I curse to myself, as I run through my mental Rolodex of triangle defenses.
03:50 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: It's then when you slip that shin of yours dug in deep off my left pectoral muscle to sweep over my left deltoid and across my traps, disrupting my tripod as you flex your hamstrings to pull that calf down tight over the back of my neck, and arching my back down towards you, and SHOVING my wrist towards your hip. Folding at my hips and pressing my shoulders down towards you, as I struggle to drive my feet into the canvas and push you back attempting to regain my dominant tripod stance.
03:50 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: Your right thigh clamped tight around my throat. Your calf muscle bulging into the back of my neck. I push into the canvas with everyting I've got, trying to drive north while you tug that powerful down calf towards the center of the Earth so you can hook it with your left knee. My desperate drive forward with my hairy muscled pillars versus your tree trunk legs, this battle takes a decidedly unpleasant turn for me when I slip on... something on the mat, likely some kind of blood, sweat, spit, or some other fluid one or both of us have dropped onto the canvas during this epic brawl, and my posture... breaks.
03:50 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: There's no other way to describe it. My posture breaks, my feet slip out behind me, and I fall to my knees as you're scooting backwards in a textbook shoulder walk, kneeling in between your legs. At almost the same moment, you feel my resistance collapsing, and you capitalize on the opportunity by hooking your left knee over your right ankle, jerking my body towards the Earth's core, and pulling me in towards your core. Pushing hard against my right arm now down your still firm abdominal muscles as I'm kneeling there, my right forearm feeling the pressure of both your tightly gripping hands, and the pressure of my own throat, as you press hard into the choke with your hands, and pull hard into the choke with your locked up legs. Fuck... fuck... no... fuck...
03:51 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: There isn't time to come up with another plan. I'm trapped. Trapped by your incredible, muscular thighs, pulling me into you and clamping down hard on my throat. Trapped by your equally incredible, muscular arms, pressing my arm into your hip. Trapped by my own incredible muscles, my shoulder pressing into my own throat to complete the triangle. The triangle, that is the most distinctive, most easily recognizable position in jiu jitsu, now locked in on me by the strongest fighting woman in the world, and my posture is broken down. Fuck, you're so strong... how are you this strong...
03:51 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: I kick with both feet, fighting to regain my posture, but they slip. And they slip, and they slip. Why is the ground so slippery? I curse the very ground we're fighting on, for existing, and not being something it's not, a support of some kind. All of my supports are collapsing, supported now only by those powerful legs of yours, constricting around my head and neck, pressing my own arm into my own throat. Leaning forward now, as my bruised and beaten abs are no longer able to contract to bring me back to a kneeling position, and I am stretched forward on my knees at the hip, my body now, for the first time in this fight, completely under your control. [G5]

21:11 Joanna_Louvier: Shark, Lion, whatever... The beautiful thing about being a member of Homo sapiens is that you can fight just about anywhere, because you can make a weapon out of just about anything—even arms and legs that evolved to climb trees, pick fruits, and later, to walk long distances—all thanks to our powerful, adaptive, social brains. Our bodies aren’t built to be killing machines, but our brains are capable of untold power, untold destruction, so much so that we are a menace to all other life on this planet, including ourselves. In the words of Archimedes, “Give me a lever long enough and a fulcrum on which to place it, and I shall move the world.” The simple technology of leverage, of course, is foundational to all grappling arts, especially BJJ. And in this particular moment, I’m grateful for my human arms, legs, and brain, because I know exactly what to do with them right now in order to achieve my goal.
21:12 Joanna_Louvier: Shoulder-walking backwards across the canvas, looking up at your face and your arm as you maintain your dominant tripod stance, I’m not out of the woods yet… either I win this tug of war, break down your stance, and bring this battle to an end, or, should you manage to escape, I’ll be in a very bad position, with you on top of me, on the ground. I’ve been able to establish and maintain a strong hold on you, but you have made it difficult every step of the way. And even as strong as I am, I can’t keep this up forever. Neither can you. One of us, you or me, is going to break first.
21:13 Joanna_Louvier: I’m trying to pull you down with my right leg, with my hips, and my back, as you drive me backwards, trying to fold me up… my cheek now bleeding pretty badly again, mostly superficial, but still, I can tell it’s wet, the cold air making it stick to my hot skin, streaks of red running down past my jaw, down my neck… heavy drops of sweat dripping down from your face, from your neck, your arm, your chest… dripping down onto me. Onto my abs, straining under you. Into my eyes. My mouth… And into the cut under my eye, burning an already angry wound. I wince, biting down hard on my mouthguard… keep moving those shoulders, come on…
21:14 Joanna_Louvier: That’s when it happens. Suddenly, I feel you collapse, and that’s my opportunity. I don’t ask questions, I just lock, twist, and squeeze. Like my life depends on it. Because in a way, it does. I reach up with my left hand to grab my right shin, pulling down on that leg to get the choke as tight as I possibly can… locking your right elbow into the divot on the right side of my hips, folding you over as you collapse onto your knees…
21:14 Joanna_Louvier: I twist at my core, cutting the angle, my left foot pushing into your hip to get you off the center line from me… my left leg hooking over my right ankle behind the knee now… I pinch my knees together, making the tight, cramped hold on your neck and arm even tighter… finally, so close to you… your head hovering over my abs… you’re beet red… I know what that feels like. Feels like being crushed. And it’s about to get worse. I bring my gloved hands behind your head, squeezing you down even closer to me. Pulling you into me. Closing off your carotid arteries. Every cubic centimeter you cede to me, I clam up even tighter, closing my legs on you like a vice.
21:15 Joanna_Louvier: Squeezing your incredibly muscular, powerful trunk with my incredibly muscular, powerful legs… I’m reaching my limit… Yes, I’m in control, and yes, I have the strength to hold you here, but I feel the lactic acid burning in my muscles, all through my limbs, through my core… I know I have a prominent vein running vertically down my forehead. I know that right now I don’t look anything like I do on the promo poster… I’m transformed… my skin, red all over. Dripping sweat from every direction. Just trying to breathe… deep, and hard. It’s funny, I thought maybe if we got to this point, I’d throw out some kind of taunt… something to the effect of “any last words?” … but at this point, I’ve fought too hard, you’ve fought too hard, for me to waste any breath on something so petty and trite.
21:17 Joanna_Louvier: And there will be words, and time, after this is all over. In the meantime, you have seconds before your brain shuts off from lack of circulation of blood, and the resulting lack of oxygen. Will you tap? Admit defeat? Submit? Is there some hidden wellspring of power you have yet to unleash? Or perhaps you will finally. Just. Settle. Down. [J6]

13:10 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: Tensing up my beaten abs as hard as I can, stretched out belly down to the canvas with my knees spread, my posture broken down, trying to fight against the power of your thickly muscled legs and get a knee up under me, and finding my struggles getting me nowhere. My own strong shoulder closing off the blood flow to my right carotid artery as my knees and feet slip on what no doubt is my own blood and sweat mixed with yours, feels oddly ironic. And painful. And dizzying. Your sweaty right thigh pressed up tight against my neck, my head in between your legs now, a position I would love to be in at any other time than right now. Because right now, that thick, powerfully muscled thigh is squeezing on my left carotid artery. And with both carotids now becoming occluded, blood flow to my brain is slowing, and I can feel my own pulse in my head pounding as my arteries fight their hardest to push blood past the pressure you're applying, and failing.
13:10 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: I know my face is getting red, because I can feel the blood pooling and the pressure building inside my own head as you start the squeeze. All I can see from this position is the sweat beading up on your incredible abs as you tense them up, thinking for just a moment about how those abs would feel under my lips, and wishing I could taste that sweat, as a drop of mine falls off my forehead to mix with yours. Pushing off the canvas as hard as I can with my left hand as my knees scramble around looking for some kind of purchase, and finding none. I try my hardest to pull my arm back, flexing up all the big muscles I've worked so hard to build up and down my arm, but my elbow is lodged tight into your hip. Your positioning is perfect, just as expected from one of the world's most talented grapplers, and you've got me broken down and locked in, feeling helpless and yet still determined at the same time.
13:10 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: Determined, because I KNOW you're tired. I KNOW I'm strong. And I KNOW I can break out of this, if I just... hold... on. In just a moment, you'll be forced to give up on this attempt to finish me, your muscles will weaken, YOU will weaken, and I'll regain my dominant position. The dominant position I'm ALWAYS in. Because I ALWAYS win, that's why I'm the CHAMPION.
13:11 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: And yet... here I am, in between your legs. The legs that have graced thousands of horny teenage walls around the world in your promotional posters. Legs that bring millions of dollars in through your social media campaigns. Legs that have helped you win ALL 39 FIGHTS that you've dominated, on your meteoric rise up the WUCL ranks to get you to this point... right here... right now... with me, finally in between those beautiful... strong... legs.
13:11 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: My head is pounding, but I can survive it. Your knees squeeze together, but I can survive it. Panting heavily through my nose, as I can't open my mouth, because you're squeezing my mouth closed with your legs. But I can survive it. I've survived it hundreds, maybe even thousands of times in training and fights just like this. I just have to hold on a little longer, and I'll survive it and start to work my way out.
13:11 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: And then... just like that... you slip your fingers in through my hair, gripping my head tight with your hands, and pull my head down deep in between those powerful legs, adding even more brutally overwhelming pressure, and closing off those carotid arteries almost entirely... If you hold on, I know I'm going out. But I can't go out. I can't lose. I'm the Champion. I know you'll give up and let go before I do. And yet... Fuuuuuuuccckkk... noooo... I can feel myself fading, eyes darkening, muscles weakening... body... settling... in between your amazing legs... but I... just need to... hold... on... [G6]

15:25 Joanna_Louvier: Anything can happen in an MMA match. And I guess that’s what I love so much about it. Every time I step into the cage with someone, it’s a new day, a blank slate. MMA is constantly evolving, and with it, so am I. My strategy and tactics have to change slightly for every fight, so it’s never a matter of executing the same fight plan for every opponent. Even once we get in the cage, I find myself having to make adjustments to counter what my opponent has brought, if it’s different from what my camp was planning for. Plans are worthless, planning is everything. It’s the process that matters most. Because you will have to adjust, because nobody can predict exactly what’s going to happen in the chaos of hand to hand combat.
15:27 Joanna_Louvier: I came in here with a pretty simple fight plan—keeping you at a distance. But I quickly found out that you had ways of taking that option away from me. And I expected no less from the champ. In your tenure, you’ve employed a wide variety of strategies to win and keep your title. And to account for your adaptability, my fight camp didn’t just focus on my strengths… we spent a lot of time drilling the clinch, takedowns, and close range boxing, offense and defense. We also drilled a lot on guard pulling and submissions from below. Because, let’s face it, we all know you’re a capital-T “Top,” we all know you want to be on Top, and we all knew that you were going to want to finish this on Top.
15:28 Joanna_Louvier: So it felt fitting to plan out the triangle submission, long in advance of the fight. Initially, I wasn’t comfortable with the idea of just giving you a takedown, but my team convinced me that if I could soften you up over at least the first two rounds, I should be able to pull this off, with you in a sufficiently weakened state. Could I submit you without hurting you at all first? Maybe, but I don’t have enough contingencies to keep up with you if this gambit fails. So my only option was to absolutely demolish your body with striking, preventing a ground fight until I was good and ready to finish you. That plan failed miserably in Round 1, but I managed to survive, because I had the clock on my side.
15:29 Joanna_Louvier: You, on the other hand, do not have the clock on your side. And as much as I can feel the last reserves of my strength surging out of me, into you, I know the clock will not save you before your body begins to shut down. And so, clutching the back of your head with my gloves hands, I go all in, throwing all of my remaining strength into closing off the blood flow to your brain, feeling your struggles become slower and weaker, and watching your face become more and more purple, with every pulse of your rapidly beating heart.
15:30 Joanna_Louvier: Finally… after what seems like an eternity, your powerful body goes limp… sort of stiffening, sort of relaxing, ceasing to move, and I know you have finally settled down, a little. After twelve successful title defenses, and 45 years on this planet, you have finally come to rest, in between the legs of a woman. A woman you had to have, had to conquer, had to tame, had to protect, even as you vied to break her. And you met your defeat like a true warrior, refusing to submit, refusing to be taken alive. Just as I would have.
15:31 Joanna_Louvier: Maybe we aren’t so different after all. You have all these rules, all these logics, but are they more dear to you than victory? Than getting what you desire? And me… is my chaos and irreverence just a psychic shield against a system I know I ultimately can never escape? In the naked brutality of unarmed combat, our moral codes, our beliefs, and our languages melt away until we share something more universal. But then again, you fought your way, and I mine, both of us honoring the established rules, as well as our own. And no matter what happens next, no one can ever take that away from you.
15:33 Joanna_Louvier: As you go out, the ref steps in to make sure I release you, declaring the fight over, the bell rings, and I immediately unlock my legs, letting your exhausted heart begin to pump de-oxygenated blood back to the right atrium for refueling, as the ref and fight medic turn you onto your back and work to open up your lungs and ensure you can breathe. I’m too exhausted to even roll up to a sitting position, initially. Just lying on my back, facing up at the arena lights, eyes closed… a somewhat pained smile growing across my mouthguard.
15:33 Joanna_Louvier: After a few seconds, I sit up, turning to look at you and see how you’re doing. Still out, but breathing. That big, hairy chest heaving with breath, your mouthguard removed, legs held in the air to encourage blood flow to the brain. Come on, wake up, Greg. I want to know that you’re OK. I want to say… something… to you. Good fight, or something like that. I didn’t prepare for this part, did I? What do I say? What do I do?

00:21 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: There are a few thoughts that go through a grappler's mind when we know damn well we're caught in a submission we can't find a way to escape. The first is a checklist, of sorts. Did I try all the escapes I know? Is there one missing from my immediate vision that's buried deep inside my memory somewhere? Think. Can I pull back my arm? No. Can I move my head? No. Can I arch up my body somehow? AHH.. fuck.. everything hurts. Nope. Muscles won't contract anymore.
00:21 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: The next thing that goes through your mind when you're in a position like this, is... panic. And the question is, am I going to die now? No, no, I'm not going to die. This is just a match. There's a ref. And Joanna is a reasonable woman... right? No matter what, she'll let go when the man says... right? Fuck, I don't know you at all. We've never had a conversation. Literally the only communication we've shared beyond the physical, is a little eyebrow raising Mrrreaow you purred at me before we started the fight, and a snarled What the FUCK was that? when I refused to pummel you into the canvas in round 2, a potentially humiliating choice that... you might want to punish now. Will you punish me with death?
00:21 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: Stepping into the cage is consenting to non-consensual violence. I didn't ask you for anything you did to me, and you didn't ask me for anything I did to you. Neither of us agreed to any of the moves we made, we imposed them on each other. I have no power to influence you in any way inside this octagon, except through my own choices, and my own actions. You retain the power to respond any way you want. Up to and including trying to kill me, if that's a choice you make. And the ref - while a big enough man in his own right - does not have the power to stop you if you decide to end my life right now. And it'll happen within seconds. Too fast for anyone else to stop you.
00:21 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: I don't want to die... but in this moment, if that's the choice the universe makes right now, acting through you, there's not a damn thing in the world I can do anymore to stop it. That's what goes through a grappler's mind, when you're caught in a submission like this. Is this woman I'm fighting with honorable enough to respect the rules of the octagon and stop herself from killing me, when she has the power, or not?
00:22 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: I don't have any choice, my fate is outside my hands. I've run through the checklist. My body is exhausted. I no longer have any power... I am utterly... and completely... powerless, in between your legs.
00:22 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: It's at once terrifying, and freeing. Knowing your fate is in someone else's hands, and you might die. That moment of release... of acceptance... is unlike any other in the world.
00:22 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: The last thing that goes through your mind, is a list of gratitudes. Goodbyes you wish you could have said, memories you want to experience one last time. It's literally a near death experience that could quite easily turn into a death experience. And there's no way to know which it is, until...
00:22 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: ...
00:22 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: ...
00:22 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: ...
00:22 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: ...
00:22 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: ...
00:22 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: ...
00:22 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: ...
00:22 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: Blinking, my eyes open to see lights overhead, the ocean roar in my ears settling into the conversation of human voices. Where am I? I think, and Who are you people? What's happening? Am I safe? Am I in danger?
00:23 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: The people overhead seem worried. Friendly, familiar voices. "Champ? You alright?" Oh hey, it's my buddy Carl, the medic. Hey Carl I think. ... Wait... Carl? Shit, Carl. Am I in a fight? Fuck, which round is it? Am I winning? Did I win? I need to get up and fight!
00:23 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: Ow... fuck. Everything hurts. Yup, I'm fighting. the thoughts roll in, faster and faster now that the blood is rushing to my brain. I turn my head, and I see you sitting up next to me. Oh hey there Joanna I smile a little to myself, seeing you there. Fuck you're a beautiful woman... OH FUCK. WAIT.
00:23 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: It finally hits me, and I try to sit up. Carl the medic presses down on my chest. "Just lay still a minute, champ. You got knocked out. Just relax, okay?"
00:24 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: Okay, Carl. I trust you. I lay back and look at those lights again. Beautiful. I can hear the crowd cheering, stomping, hooting and hollering your name. Fuck... I'm alive.. FUCK.. did I just lose the world championship? Did Joanna just choke me out?
00:24 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: I turn my head and look at you, in truly the most important moments of any loss. To see the look on your face. Are you smirking? Cocky? Celebrating your own awesomeness, looking to gloat? You earned the right to gloat. The real fight is just starting. Days, weeks, months from now, there could be gloating. No... you look... concerned. Just like I would be about someone I nearly killed. Good girl.
00:24 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: A flurry of emotions rages through my body as my mind starts to think about all the consequences of this defeat. It was inevitable, really. 12 title defenses so far, but good ol' lucky 13 does me in... I had to lose sometimes. And I fought hard, and you won, fair and square.
00:24 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: A ton of different words come to mind. Am I angry? Am I disappointed? You're just sitting there, looking concerned. So I take the lead again, and say the only thing that needs to be said right now. Licking a little of the blood off my puffy, swollen lips, it hurts to grin, but out of respect and admiration, I do. And then I say it... only half joking, like I do...
00:25 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: "Thanks for not killing me... champ..."

15:28 Joanna_Louvier: Your grin and your words make me smile, knowing your mind is rapidly recovering from the beating your body just took… but your expression still betrays some more difficult emotions. The pain of wounded pride, the grief of losing the title that defined your career and, maybe not completely, but in some ways, your identity, for so many years… no shame from losing to a woman… you’re too mature and enlightened for that… but still, nobody likes to lose, especially, a fight. I can’t imagine what you are going through right now, but I still try. I can’t help myself.
15:28 Joanna_Louvier: I haven’t been around as long as you have, but this brief interaction gives me a window into my own future. Will I be able to hold onto the title as long as you did? Who knows, but this is part of the game. Not the game of winning a fight—the long game. The fight career. You keep fighting, keep winning, keep chasing that feeling of your first victory, until you can’t. What will you do now? Retire and hang up your gloves? Unlikely. Challenge me to win your belt back? Somehow, I don’t see you doing that either. Teach? Coach? I could see you doing that. In fact, that gives me some ideas…
15:29 Joanna_Louvier: Of course, I’m dealing with my own mix of emotions—the relief in my body that my work for today, at least, the physical work, is done. The elation of victory, of having achieved my goal, and in such spectacular fashion. The burning in my veins from a hard fought battle, and the dizziness of my heart rate quickly going into the recovery range. The anxiety and pressure of the public spotlight I will be facing as the new champion, even though I feel like I’ve always sort of been under that lens since I started my career in the league. The barrage of “what comes next?” thoughts pulsing through my mind. And the still very immediate pain, nerves, and tension of the scene unfolding in front of me.
15:30 Joanna_Louvier: On autopilot, the verbal part of my brain cobbles together a reply, “Good fight, Greg. You’re every bit as tough as I thought you’d be, and then some.” There isn’t much time for discussion at the moment, though, so I let my body do the rest of the talking. Crouching and leaning in for a sportsmanlike embrace, once the medic, ref, and your team have opened up the space enough for me to get access to you. I scoot towards you, kneeling to meet your height as you remain sitting up.
15:32 Joanna_Louvier: Wrapping a big, long arm over your shoulder, my other arm angling in for an underhook. Pulling you in close enough for you to feel held, to know that my body is capable of more than just destruction. To feel your pecs pressing into mine, as my firm, tightly packed breasts brush brazenly against the lower part of your sternum. Smelling your sweat, your blood, your skin, your hair. Feeling your heat, and the electricity of our bodies sharing space in a different way now. Planting a discreet, not totally casual peck on your cheek. Releasing after a couple seconds. Not too long, but not brief. I go to one knee and offer you my arm to help you stand. I want you to be standing there with me for this next part.

02:20 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: The ocean roar of my reduced cranial blood flow in my ears ebbs to the dull lapping sound of a gentle tide on the beach of my auditory sound stage, as my arteries and veins return to full function, after having been reduced to near zero capacity by the crushing pressure of your redwood chopping legs around my head, neck, and shoulders in what is certainly going to go down in history as one of the most beautifully executed triangle chokes I've experienced in my long, long career.
02:20 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: The strength returns to my muscles, and I try to sit up. Ahhhh fuck. My abs don't even work, what the fuck. Carl the medic helps me to sit up, and... the sympathetic tone of my body's self preservation 'fight or flight' instincts waning, the parasympathetic influences start to take hold and my body tries to go into healing mode... aching... settling... "sorry body," I tell myself, "we're not done yet. No time to lay down right now. Sit up."
02:20 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: The point of recognizing the winner of a professional fight is not to give the winner an opportunity to gloat, though many fighters take it as such. The point is to give pause to recognize that what happened tonight is representative of war and the battle for survival that humans have fought for many thousands of years. To recognize that what happened here is a sport, when the things we did to each other could quite easily have lead to death on the battlefield.
02:20 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: It's a time to recognize each other for our battle skills, for our hand-to-hand combat skills. And more than that, to recognize each other for our sportsmanship.
02:21 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: That privilege of celebrating the sportsmanship of an MMA battle was exploited in years past in the long defunct UFC, by self important macho men flaunting their bravado at happening to combine some level of skill, training, and good fortune, into a victory over another man who undoubtedly had his family watching him lose a fight and get knocked out.
02:21 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: With the influx of women into the World Ultimate Combat League, there is no doubt in any fighter's mind that the post-fight celebrations have settled into a time of mutual respect for those who dared greatly to enter the octagon; recognition that this whole act was a representation of life and death battle taken as close to death as physically possible, while still letting both of us return home to our families.
02:21 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: "It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again... who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly." ― Teddy Roosevelt
02:21 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: That quote that has fueled my fire for years echoing through my mind as I sit here, defeated. At the end of the day, I dared greatly. I made choices, I showed mercy, I was affected by time, by good and bad fortune, I put my training to the test... and this time, I failed against a powerful opponent, with skills, fortune, and training of her own... all the while daring greatly.
02:21 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: I hang my head, just a little. For just a moment, I think all the thoughts that will doubtless haunt me in days, months, years to come. "Could I have done different?" And of course the answer is yes, I could have. At this point though, I accept that I made choices, and I could just as easily have been the victor here. Today, I tried some things, did my best, did it my way, and failed.
02:22 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: And then your words... "good fight, Greg..." I don't really hear them. I'm still sitting there in a daze of reduced blood flow and that mix of emotions. Hanging by a thread, just a little... lost.
02:22 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: Until you crouch down beside me, kneeling. And I look over at you, sitting up on my butt, no doubt bleeding, bruised, and all kinds of messed up by your fists and feet. And you don't make fun of me, you don't gloat, you... wrap your arms around me, and you hold me...
02:22 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: All my chaotic thoughts simply... disappear... and I melt my strong body into yours. My heart beats through my chest against yours. That intoxicating scent of your undeniably compatible pheromones wafts up my nose. My arms hanging at my sides as you hook that strong, muscular right arm over my left shoulder, and I love it. Then you look to slip your left arm under my right...
02:22 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: A sly grin creeps across my bruised and beaten face, as that hand tries to sneak under my armpit to angle for an underhook, and I simply can't help myself. I simply must tuck my right elbow in, attempting to block you. Our eyes connect, and you see me grin. I feel you tighten up the strong muscles of your left arm, and force that hook in a little more, the two of us jockeying for position on our butt and knees. Your breasts brushing across my chest as we 'grapple'.
02:22 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: A few moments of 'play' time later, I 'admit defeat', and 'let' you get that underhook. Of course, at this point, I am still so weak that I'm not truly letting you do anything at all, and we both know it. Still, I take the opportunity to slip my right arm over your back even deeper. And you pull me in close to you, as I pull you in close to me. My nose breathing my hot, still heavy breath across your right ear. And then, without any notice at all... your lips, on my cheek. On my right cheek, the opposite side from when some tart planted her lips on my left cheek in my locker room before the fight...
02:22 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: The electricity between us is palpable. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up straight, and I feel a shudder through my whole body. You pull away, releasing me, my arms falling reluctantly away from you. And then you kneel. And you offer an arm. And I smile. Hell yeah I want to be there for this, Huntress. Whatever this is, whatever happens next... I want to be there with you.
02:22 Greg_the_Pet_Vet: I reach up and grip your forearm with my right hand, as you grip my forearm with yours. One more time, I stare up the rippled intertwined muscle cables of your strong, sexy arm, as I feel that hard muscle bulge in my grip. You pull, I get my knees, then my feet underneath me, and I gratefully use your resistance to help me stand. Right beside you, champ...

20:24 Joanna_Louvier: The arena is now ablaze with the reaction from the crowd, both your fans and mine, as they recognize the show of mutual respect between opponents. I take this part of my role very seriously, not only because I am modeling behavior for young women and girls, but because, as the new champion, my behavior in these moments sets the standard for fighters everywhere now.
20:27 Joanna_Louvier: Sure, there have always been heels and villains, there have always been men, and women, who gloat, self aggrandize, stoke hatred, and revel in the humiliation of a defeated opponent. But for the time being, the platform belongs to me, not to them. And I will see to it that the WUCL belongs to fighters, to competitors, to athletes, who “dare greatly,” entering the arena, who “go to the woods because they wish to live deliberately,” who understand that fighting is bigger than any one person. It is universal.
20:28 Joanna_Louvier: This—combat sports—is a ritual, a celebration of what makes us human, what makes us animals, what allows us to prove to ourselves that we are alive, that we exist—for better, or for worse. It is violent, and dangerous, and fraught with moral ambiguity, but to me, it is home. And I love it. And I will fight to protect what is sacred to me about it. And I know that you, Greg, in your own way, have always fought to protect what is sacred to you about the sport, and whatever you decide to do after today, you will continue to protect it, in whatever way you can.
20:29 Joanna_Louvier: That’s what I can feel, the energy I take in from your grip, surging through your right arm, as my right hand clasps with yours, and your left hand grips my forearm, as I pull you up to your feet. You are heavy… and I am tired. But somehow, even after all the violence we have traded over the past fifteen minutes or so, this feels effortless now.
20:31 Joanna_Louvier: Our first real meeting was in the cage. Both of us had our walls up, weapons out, trying to take each other down. There was really no time or place for vulnerability, for empathy, for connection in those fifteen minutes… though those things did manage to find a foothold in a few fleeting moments. But as the referee holds our hands through the dramatic pause before my right hand is raised, I am struck by the overwhelming sensation, a sort of knowing, that this is far from the end of our time together. In that vulnerable embrace, there was a feeling of connection so natural, it was as if we had known each other for some time. And I’m sure of it now… I want to give you some time to recover, get strong again, and then I want to see you again. I want to get to know you… learn from you… play with you…
20:33 Joanna_Louvier: I look over to you, making eye contact briefly, catching a knowing gaze from the former champ, my expression steeled, trying to hold in the tidal wave of emotions that will surely flood out of me when I hear my name, and then, it happens… my arm is raised, the crowd erupts, the cameras crowd me as my coach and team rush in, I try to hold back the tears, but I can’t, I’m just… swept away. I thought this was supposed to get easier. I thought after 39 wins in the League, I’d be bored of this part by now. But this one is different. Is this going to be the highlight of my career? Is it all downhill from here? No… I’m not going anywhere, not for a while. Because I am the Huntress… Here I am. I exist. Try and stop me.

Published: 2022-05-20, viewed 87 times.