Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
To say it was a hot, sunny day on the Shattered Mast Keys would undersell the point. Spectators huddled under whatever shade they could under the blazing tropical sun, whether behind the Amphitheater’s considerable stone facade, under tarps spanning the storefronts, or simply hiding behind their taller, broader brethren. Muttered oaths to Din were commonplace as individuals found themselves under the direct sunlight, and more than one person could be heard swearing instant fealty to Farore as errant wind gusts occasionally pushed a cloud over the archipelago.
The mood was cheerful in spite of the heat as crowds milled about, chatting each other up, hawking merchandise for favored wrestlers, and feasting on a smorgasbord of sizzling meats and fizzly meads. The pre-game was well underway, and if the state of the cookpots and bookkeepers’ ledgers were any indication, this would be a very busy tournament indeed.
One figure remained silent as Hylian, Gerudo, Zora, Goron, and Rito made merry: a blue-beaked avian, plumage white as the driven snow, clad only in a red ascot and a white skirt whose blue waistband and geometric red/gold fringe patterning suggested a culture far south of Hylia. He watched the passerby from above, standing atop a narrow stone pillar whose central support held up some of the stonework lining the island’s eastern side. He moved so rarely in this position that even those who registered his presence assumed he was some forgotten statue, saved from Ganondorf’s forces by sheer luck alone. Only the fluttering of his black wattle betrayed his nature, as he gazed exclusively on a massive kettle drum at the amphitheater's center, and the shadow his perch cast drew ever nearer to it as the sun sailed through the sky.
The moment that shadow crossed the drum’s threshold, the Rito spread his wings wide, catching onlookers by surprise. They pointed, drawing further attention his way, and he stretched wider, arching his back and fanning his “fingers” much in the same way a peacock might when presenting itself. Flexing and curling in deliberate fashion, he then folded them in on themselves, leaned forward…and tumbled from the perch.
A flurry of shocked gasps morphed into cheers as the rito went from a noisy, uncontrolled tumble to graceful swoop, tucking his wings in to execute a pitch-perfect barrel roll that resolved mere inches from the ground. Tucking between a pair of shocked gorons and their sizable beach-sand smoothies as he shot past rows of seats, he rocketed back into the air, produced a mallet from the folds of his ascot, and SLAMMED it into the kettle drum’s head.
The drumbeat pulsed through the island, a visceral acoustic wave laced with just enough ambient magical energy to catch everyone’s attention. Attendants, shopkeeps, and spectators alike turned at the drumblast, curious as to its origins - and the rito responded with a second drumbeat, a third, and a fourth, all in an unmistakable syncopated rhythm.
He repeated the beat blast rhythm, this time bringing a talon stomp to the beat. The closest onlookers joined him on the next, following his foot-stomps with their own, and when they saw his enthusiastic nod, they carried the beat on themselves, adding an exuberant clap for good measure.
The rito’s call-and-response lasted a solid minute as he led them in cadence after cadence, pulling onlookers into the island’s center through a combination of curiosity and participatory zeal. Once they were all foot-stomping by themselves, the rito stopped drumming, rose to his full height, and made an exaggerated show of peering into the crowd.
“Warrrrrriorrrrrrs….” he drawled, using his mallet as an impromptu visor. “Come out to playyyyyyyyyy.”
Nobody had a problem hearing his sing-sing stage whisper over the call-and response. It was strong, sibilant, and most of all, loud.
“Waaarrrriorrrrrs, come out to PLAAAYYYYYY!” he drawled again - and this time, scattered members of the audience began to parrot him.
By the third time he called out, the audience was in full-throated agreement.
“WARRIORS…COME OUT TO PLAAAAAAAYYYY!”
The rito shot into the air on this call, his wingbeats roaring with the crowd, beating with their own foot-stomps, encouraging them to keep the chant going. He soared around the island, bellowing the call, gesturing to the amphitheater with his wings, whipping the crowds into an excited frenzy. He dove past stalls, whipping past customers, barrel-rolling by fighters, drawing eyes and ears alike with his invitation - that the warriors must come to play, and to come play where everyone could see them.
Flocking back to Shattered Mast’s center, the rito descended on its drum and produced another drumblast that rippled through the crowd. The assembly cheered, and the rito waved, inviting individual aisle to bellow over the others with a sweep of his fingers.
The crowd began to die down after a time, at which point the rito raised his arms.
“DISTINGUISHED GUESTS AND FANS OF S.M.A.S.H! WELCOME…TO THE SHATTERED MAST KEYYYYYYS!”
There was no need for a microphone, magical, technological, or otherwise. The rito’s voice was a sonic blast of its own, and it had no difficulty reaching every part of the island without assistance. Some of those closest to the rito recoiled from his voice; veterans of the show, however, simply rolled their eyes, grinned, and passed some earplugs down their way.
“Ha HAH! Allow me to introduce myself. I…am Rrrrrudioso, your host at the Shattered Mast Amphitheater for the Scrappers of Hyrule–”
“S.M.A.S.H.! S.M.A.S.H.! S.M.A.S.H.! S.M.A.S.H.!”
Rudioso grinned, indulging in the crowd’s interruption. He padded the air, inviting the audience to settle itself, then continued.
“Glad to know we’re all on the same page,” he said, allowing a pause as the audience laughed. “...But yes! You, my beloved audience, have come to be treated to the most daring, the most amazing, the most incredible displays of raw physical talent this side of the Calamity! Now tell me, are you ready to SEE SOME FIGHTS?!”
The crowd cheered.
“I dunno…” he said, cocking his head to the side. “I’m sure you can do better than that. I said, ARE YOU READY TO SEE SOME FIGHTS?!”
They screamed.
“That’s more like it!” said Rudioso, a knowing grin plastered across his face. “And boy, do we have some sights to show you!”
The rito stomped one of the stone tiles below him, which sank, revealing itself to be a cleverly hidden pressure switch. A rumble rocked the amphitheater, and three stone walls erupted along the westward, central, and eastern bounds of the island’s southern edge. Each was marked at the top by one of the Goddess’ seals, and each showed an elaborate tournament tree, with a portrait of each contender along its base.
“Three weight classes! Twenty-four fighters!” cried Rudioso, spreading his wings to highlight the tournament trees. “Seven matches per weight class, to find each weight class’ Champion - and at the end, a three way free-for-all between our Champions, to find out who, once and for all, is this year’s S.M.A.S.H. CHAMPION!”
“...Now, I must say, this event is not for the faint of heart,” he continued, holding up a cautionary finger. “For the sake of our tenderer audience members: if any of you are disturbed by the sight of hand-to-hand combat, of bruises and blood on the sand, or, dare I say it…”
He put a hand to the side of his mouth, speaking to the audience in a clear, obvious stage whisper.
“...indisputable specimens of sheer physical might…”
The crowd laughed.
“...we ask that you purchase a blindfold at one of our many store kiosks. Viewer discretion is, after all, advised.”
More laughter. Rudioso grinned again
“So, I ask you, my wonderful S.M.A.S.H. audience: Can you dig it?!”
The audience roared.
“CAN YOU DIG IT?!”
And roared.
“CAN! YOU! DIG IT?!”
And roared. The rito twisted, pumped his arms a few times, and spread his wings wide once more.
“Well, you’re in luck, ladies and gents - for here comes our first contenders now!”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
I realize there's a lot going on with...(gestures at world), but, if you have a couple of bucks, the village I grew up in just had a really devastating flood. That's after and related to the similarly-devastating fires from last year. The county Community Fund is taking donations. Even if you could spread the word, that'd be appreciated.
The Community Foundation of Lincoln County, NM provides financial assistance and investment services to community organizations and resident
