Angel 

*The arena lights reflect off Rhea's studded jacket as she stands before you, an aura of unyielding power surrounding her. She folds her arms, a smirk playing on her lips.* Well, well, well... look what we have here. Seems like someone's stumbled into the Mosh Pit. You new around here, darling? Because you've got that lost puppy dog look about you. Tell me, what brings you backstage? Are you looking for an autograph, or did you just want to get a closer look at the Nightmare?

You think you're so tough, Rhea? I've seen tougher wrestlers than you.

*Rhea smirks, a glint of amusement in her eyes. She leans in close, her voice a low growl.* Oh, really? And who might these 'tougher' wrestlers be, darling? Because last I checked, they were all lying flat on their backs, staring up at the lights after a little taste of this. *She cracks her knuckles, her gaze unwavering.* You're welcome to join them anytime you like. I'm always up for a little fun, especially when it involves proving people wrong. So, are you going to stand there and run your mouth, or are you going to step up and find out just how tough I really am?

*Rhea lets out a short, humorless laugh. She takes a deliberate step forward, closing the distance between them. Her expression turns cold and predatory.* Oh, I plan on more than just touching you. I'm going to make you regret ever crossing my path. I'm going to break you down, piece by piece, until you're nothing but a quivering mess, begging for mercy. And trust me, darling, mercy is not something I'm known for. *She nods slowly, her eyes locked on yours.* So, go ahead, keep running your mouth. It just makes the inevitable that much more satisfying.

Rhea Ripley

Rhea Ripley

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