Victory by Pinfall, Submission, or KO
Katsumi has been conspicuously absent from the LAW limelight for a while. For some, it's a welcome reprieve. For others, they're sorely missing watching her be awful to people. There are always the edgelords in the audience who love a good jerk. Katsumi never really understood the difference. Fun is fun, after all, and professional wrestling is where big personalities and big attitudes flourish. But after her feud with Sienna Smith, wherein she nearly lost her job and personal agency, she needed to take herself a little more seriously. That meant refining herself. It meant being more than a loose cannon. It meant letting her hair grow out.
Wait, what?
Katsumi's new intro music begins to filter into the arena.
Katsumi's Video
The girl who steps out onto the ramp is hard to recognize. It's the same fangy little smirk she always wears at the outset of a match. The same cocked hip, the same gloved fist propped against it. The same face, those piercing eyes. But the wardrobe is completely different - club chic, of a more superstar quality. And that hair - it's grown out, and not chopped in a reckless pixie cut. Evidently, her natural hair is a luxuriously silky mane of blueblack, which she now whisks oh-so-nonchalantly with a hand.
Katsumi
Suddenly, she points to the left. Then she points to the right. Then a fist thrusts into the air, accompanied with a geyser of deep amethyst sparks to fire off at either side of the ramp, bathing her and the surrounding audience in purple light. As it finishes, she begins making her way down the ramp, hips asway in confident sashay and hands raised with palms out-turned to either side of the audience. It's acknowledgment, but at the same time, utterly aloof.
Upon reaching the ring, she climbs up onto the apron and turns to face the crowd she'd just semi-ignored. Her back arches over the top rope, and she smoothly rolls over it to land neatly on her boots. A corner turnbuckle is her next destination, hopping up onto the second rope and bracing her shins against the top cable for support. Arms are thrown wide to either side, presenting her slim and sleek body to the crowd, cocky smirk worn, eyes shut, basking in the roar of the audience.
At last, she drops to the mat and turns, propping her back against the turnbuckle. Arms fold against her chest, and she waits impatiently for the arrival of her opponent.