The bad blood between the infamous rudo, Serpent, and the warm-hearted (and big muscled) tecnico, El Amante Intoxico, was legendary. Like something out of a telenovela, their past was an intertwined drama of betrayal, passion, and--potentially--murder. El Amante was third in a line of masked spellbreakers, and though his father was meant to take on the mantel (or mask) of Victor's heroic grandfather, the man travelled a much darker path when he joined in with Serpent's insidious stable...
And it cost him dearly.
And so, most in the audience were keenly aware of the tension between the two fighters when, at the start of the second round, Serpent jumped into the ring and met El Amante head on.
"You." El Amante scowled, his attractive eyes beneath his mask forming an intense, penetrating glare (and not the kind of penetrating El Amante was fondly known for, either). The ‘Warrior of Love’ loved almost everyone, but Serpent was another story.
The snake-themed rudo flicked his tongue at El Amante. Seduction or intimidation, it was hard to tell. “Well, well. If it’s not Dark Sabre’s prancing, sissyboy of a son.”
El Amante rebuffed him. “A sissy with muscles!” He proclaimed, showing off his biceps and causing at least two or three audience members in the front row to faint on the spot. “Sure, I have sugar in my tank–but it’s the tank of a mighty locomotive that’s about to RUN YOUR WICKED SELF DOWN.”
Serpent glowered. “Just like the car that ran down your father?”
Lazuli gasped. Temo tightened his grip on the rope. At least three audience members dropped their elote and gasped.
El Amante felt his heart crack. He was no doubt one of the strongest men in the arena–but his strength and weakness were his emotions. For in addition to being extremely strong, undeniably attractive, and extraordinarily brave...El Amante was also absurdly sensitive. It felt like he had just been slapped in the face. It was not that Serpent had said it to him that hurt El Amante the most, but the sheer concept that someone could say something that terrible to anybody!
Lazuli grew angry on his behalf. “That…bastard.”
It was just as Serpent had hoped. Distracted by the cruel remark, Serpent jumped up and drop kicked El Amante right in the gut, knocking him into the ropes and sending him backwards. Serpent made sure to arch his back, causing El Amante to trip and fall over onto his face.
“Now we’re talking,” Serpent said, getting up and giving Fernando the signal. Serpent took the opportunity to deliver a series of stomps to El Amante’s muscular, prone body.
The bull-man at ringside wiggled his sultry eyebrows seductively at the ref. “Oh, hello. Fernando did not see you there. Ah, but you are…so handsome.”
“N-no…” the humble, gentlemanly ref said, blushing. “You can’t be talking about little old me. Hehehe.” He coughed. "Could you?"
The Matador drew closer. “Allow me to kiss your hand as as sign of profound admiration,” he said. The ref offered it to him, willingly, and Fernando did just that.
“Heh.”
Then, the bull-headed man’s eyes flashed silvery white. The ref’s blood pressure dropped on the spot, and his eyes went every-which-way.
"FOOL!" Fernando laughed (his pectorals bouncing to the time of his mocking laughter). "The Matador Minotaur admires NOBODY but himself!"
Temo sniffed out the magick right away, and was shocked at what he saw. “That’s…the glyph of Vitalis,” he said.
Lazuli, distracted by Serpent attacking El Amante, whipped his head towards Temo. “What? The Life glyph? You mean…Fernando is a healing magi?”
“Life can be given,” Temo said, gravely, dashing towards the cheating bastard. “Just as it can be taken!”
“Oh, si si si si,” the Minotaur from Madrid laughed, as the ref went limp in his arms. “And once eyes are fixed on my glorious visage, all it takes is a single touch to drain the energy from my fans. Or victims..."
Just as Temo went down to assist the ref, Fernando’s beefy hand grabbed his chin and forced his gaze upwards.
“OR BOTH! Hohohohohooo!”
Temo’s back stiffened, and his world went dark. The King collapsed and fell off the ring apron, along with the ref. Fernando gleefully posed above them, blowing kisses at the booing crowd.
"Hahaha, you silly little locals with your inferior basterdizations of the mother tongue...do you not know that your boos only make Fernando more powerful!? As if your silly opinions matter. You cannot comprehend the true beauty that is this study bull before you! Hahahaha!"
This wasn’t good. Prince Lazuli swallowed, wondering how he could tag in and rescue El Amante. With the ref knocked out, the rudos could easily have their way with all of them. El Amante was in peril, and Temo was knocked out. Lazuli didn’t know which man to try and rescue.
Unfortunately, he wouldn’t get the chance. Feeling hot breath on his neck, Lazuli turned around and looked up into the lizard eyes of T. Rex, all fangs and very hungry.
“GET OVER HERE!!!!” Rex said, grabbing a fistfull of Lazuli’s hair and YANKING him over the top rope–pulling the Prince into the beast’s den.
Serpent, wiping his brow, looked over as their new captive, just as he kicked El Amante into the gut and sent him, near unconscious, through the ropes. “Looks like your knights aren’t here to save you anymore, my sweet prince. Now, I can feed you to my monsters! How sad. Such a short-lived career. Such wasted potential. That is...unless you join my crew?”
Fernando and T. Rex leered over the dizzy Prince Lazuli, caught in the shadows of the two hulking beasts. "Never!" Lazuli spat, trying to find his stamina. "You're all weird and you smell bad too!"
Meanwhile, at ringside, the clumsy Bandito finally managed to pull himself away from his flirting long enough to see Temo’s lifeless body propped against the ring ropes.
“Fear not, handsomes!” Bandito said, rushing to Temo’s side. “I’ll wake you two up…with the power of love!”
With that, Bandito planted a kiss on Temo’s lips (and…perhaps held it longer than necessary). Imbued with a soft, pink light, Temo’s eyes flickered open. “Tastes like…cinnamon and chocolate.”
“Whoops!” Bandito blushed. “Forgot I had churros before the show. Now, onto YOU, big boy!”
The heroes trusty valet grabbed the ref and planted a wet one on his face. The humble man, upon realizing what was happening, turned red and pulled away. “Don’t…don’t tell my wife.”
Bandito responded with a flirty wink. “Once again, the day is saved!”
However, contrary to what the oversexed luchador trainee might have thought, the day was most definitely NOT saved. Not for Prince Lazuli, anyway. With only his command over minerals at his disposal, Lazuli conjured a shard of lapis and brandished it in defense of the preening, pec-bouncing bull man.
“Oh, how cute,” the cow-headed narcissist cooed. “Is that a gift for me?”
Lazuli sucked on his teeth in frustration. He was out muscled. “No. And also, your nipples are oddly shaped.”
“All the better to feed you my muscle milk, my studly calf.”
Minotaur pulled Laz into a tight headlock, smashing the poor, young luchador’s face into his meaty pectorals. “Gross!” Laz squealed.
“Hmph! How insulting. I was going to make you into one of my mindless, muscle-bull boys and add you to my stable, but since you’re being so RUDE, I will instead feed you to the dinosaur!”
Fernando easily scooped Lazuli up into his arms, and then slammed him down–painfully–into the canvas, before the Prince could even hope to turn his conjured weapon against the Minotaur Matador (he’d hoped to break it over his horns). The blow to Laz’s back was intense. This definitely wasn’t friendly sparring. Still, he couldn’t give up. He reached for his shard of lapis…
Only to see it crushed under foot of T. Rex’s thick boot! The jewel shattered into dust…as did Lazuli’s hope.
“Hehehe…LUNCH! And PAIN IS ON THE MENU, MY TASTY LITTLE PRINCE!”
The next thing Prince Lazuli knew, he was inverted, his hair dangling over Rex’s knee, his arm clamped tightly under the big brute’s arm pit, and his legs bent to the point of snapping off, over Rex’s head.
“Little luchador wussies like you call this the shield hold,” Rex growled, drinking in the site of Laz’s suffering. “But I prefer the raptor jaw hold!”
The name was stupid as hell, but all Laz could think of was his tendon snapping off! “I…give!” he cried out, weakly to the ref. Better to live to fight another day.
Rex was happy to keep the move on just a but longer, before the ref demanded otherwise. Though the Big Bad Dino Daddy snarled at the arbiter, he allowed the stretched out and bent Prince Lazuli to fall to the mat.
“Well done,” Serpent leered from his corner. And, with the way Fernando preened and posed for the fans, any viewers at home who’d just flipped to the spellbreaking channel might have thought the bull-headed matador had clinched the victory all on his own!
