Marisol Reyes
Handler: jcbarr
1
Wins
1
Losses
0
Draws
Biography
Marisol Reyes learned to wrestle from her uncle, on a mat in a garage in Monterrey, in a tradition where technique was the point and flashiness was what you fell back on when technique ran out. She has not yet run out. She is a submission specialist of the lucha libre school — which is to say she is fluid, creative, and possessed of a spatial imagination that allows her to find holds from positions that should not reasonably permit them. She is not interested in torturing opponents. She is interested in solving them: identifying the path from wherever the match currently is to a submission, and taking it. The path is frequently surprising. The arrival is not. In STRIFE she works as a face with complexity — respectful of the craft, proud of her lineage, and possessed of a clear, non-negotiable standard for how wrestling should be conducted. She has made her feelings about shortcut artists briefly but comprehensively known, and the relevant parties have adjusted their behaviour in her vicinity. She is one of several wrestlers in STRIFE who the production team have learned not to ask to cut a promo without sufficient preparation time, because she prepares everything, and given sufficient preparation time she is extraordinary at it.
Attributes
Affects damage output of power-based moves
Affects speed, evasion, and aerial move effectiveness
Affects performance degradation over match length
Affects crowd interaction and promo-based match modifiers
Affects bonus multipliers from pre-match roleplay scoring
Affects match pacing decisions and comeback mechanics
Affects damage received from physical strikes and slams
Passive reduction of damage from counter-able move types
Passive reduction of effectiveness of submission holds
Move List
Finisher
Signature Moves
Class Moves
Universal Moves
Basic Moves
Entrance
Her music is a slow, sweeping orchestral-electronic hybrid — something with weight and ceremony to it, strings over a building bass frequency. The lights shift to deep red, and Marisol walks through the curtain in her robe, braid down, unhurried. She descends the ramp at a composed, deliberate pace, not slow enough to feel pretentious, not fast enough to feel unaware of herself. She makes eye contact with sections of the crowd rather than individuals — acknowledging, not performing. There is respect in it, and something that is not quite pride but is adjacent to it. At ringside she removes the robe and hands it to the ring attendant with care — she watches them fold it before turning to the ring. She enters through the ropes, stands in the centre, and raises a single fist. Not triumphant, not aggressive. Acknowledgment. Of the building, of the crowd, of the occasion. Then she moves to her corner, begins loosening her wrists, and does not look at her opponent until she hears their music.
Backstory
Marisol Reyes is from a wrestling family in the fullest sense — her uncle wrestled regionally, her father managed before his knees went, and there are photographs in the family home of relatives in masks going back two generations. Wrestling was not a choice she made so much as a context she was born into, and the choice was whether to engage with it seriously or not. She engaged. She began training at fourteen under her uncle's instruction, with the specific understanding that she would not rush and would not cut corners, because the foundation was the thing and everything else was built on top of it. She competed in Mexican women's lucha from seventeen, building a reputation for submission work that sat outside the typical lucha aesthetic — she could do the aerial sequences, and occasionally did, but her preference was always for the mat. She spent two years training in Japan in her mid-twenties, which reshaped her ground game completely and added a layer of stiffness to her grappling that her lucha background had not provided. She came back to Mexico different — still recognisably herself, but colder in the ring, more willing to make things unpleasant if unpleasant was the correct tool. STRIFE represented international visibility of a kind that the independent circuit, however respected, could not. She arrived with her robe, her braid, and seventeen years of craft, and she has no particular interest in adjusting any of it for anyone.
Gallery
