Standard Match: White Dragon vs Malevolent Virus — Pure Puroresu Punishment

[Monsy]

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EMI SAKURA VS SPECTRE

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Standard Match
All Normal Rules Apply

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Her third match is underway. Spectre, again, occupied the rafters to her pleasure, leaning on the rail with her laptop and knapsack.

By now, Spectre at least obtained some general glances. She had two matches to her name in a relatively close space. It wasn’t quite the explosion she hoped for -- but everyone smart knew, like a rookie Novelist’s dream of making one rich-making best seller, that it shouldn’t be expected at all. Let alone banked on. Instead, what Spectre wanted was a rising tide, slow to notice, but with the foundation of irreversible damage that would be impossible to deny or beat once it was taken seriously. As many matches as it took, she was going to keep attacking.

Tonight’s opponent was one Emi Sakura from Yokohama.
She had some notes about her, compiled across four sticky notes she had over, three times. She was a dangerous upscale from the last two, with flickers of her even pre-LAW, a treat once she delved deep enough. Emi was someone with amazing agility, snappy strikes and traditional sky-flying maneuvers, with enough thoom, fus-fro-dah and dance in her combat that she’s likened to a dragon. The White Dragon. Ferocious, capable, honourable, elegant and sexy to boot. The pictures didn’t disappoint, as she had a hungry and maddening look in her eye that you can just feast on and get a shiver from. Just twenty-two years of age -- one-hundred and sixteen pounds.

Her first Lightweight opponent. And perhaps, first opponent Spectre classed as a possible Medium threat, but with asterisks. ( “Pay. The Fuck. Attention.” ) -- Let's get started.

Her emblem flashed on the Titantron. Purple nuclear eye spinning with a breath of purple mist animating out the mask's front filter.

Spectre's

came to play. The bells sounded the coming of lethality, then the techno was the main dish, backdropped by choir notes accenting an ethereal arrival from the heavens ( rafters ), then of course -- the best part -- guns and guitar!

When the crowd caught her, Spectre was dropping in from above, standing on the cable and hook yet again. Crowbars on her hips. Purple chequered skirt, a tight latex tummy, a top that squeezed her chest, two arm-sleeves with purple trim, tight lace-up boots right below her knee. An arm overhead was grabbing the cable. The other hung loosely on her side. Her attire had faint illuminating aspects when shined on by a spotlight, watching her descend with a gaze pointed at the stage.

This contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, from parts unknown, standing at FIVE-FOOT-ONE and weighing ONE-HUNDRED POUNDS. The Malevolent Virus.... Speeeeeccttreee!"

Then she glanced down. Six feet above -- she stepped off. Her boots hit the turnbuckle pad, ankles together, knees spread, a hand down the middle onto the pad. She took her crowbars off, hooked them on the top rope, then stood up, front-flipped off the top and landed sound on her feet. The crowd resonated in a medium voice to her third arrival. She rolled one shoulder, hopped twice, took her corner then paced between the adjacent ropes.

.

[Arby]

Backstage, the atmosphere crackled with anticipation as Emi prepared herself mentally and physically for the impending showdown against Spectre. Clad in her signature attire, she paced back and forth in a secluded corner, the hum of excitement from the crowd filtering through the walls.

Her mind focused solely on the task ahead. With each passing moment, she visualized the sequences of her planned maneuvers, rehearsing them mentally.

As the time drew near, a sense of electricity filled the air, signaling the imminent call to action. With a final deep breath to center herself, Emi stood tall, her muscles coiled. The moment had arrived, and she was more than ready to step into the spotlight and showcase her skills as the White Dragon. Especially now that her opponent seems quite tough. This will definitely be her strongest challenger yet in her career in L.A.W.

Now, with Spectre's theme fading into the background, the announcer seizes the moment to introduce her opponent to the eagerly awaiting crowd.

"And now, her opponent for tonight! Stepping into the ring all the way from Yokohama, Japan, we have her challenger."

As soon as the announcer pronounces the word "challenger," the titantron springs back to life, illuminating the backstage area with Emi's personalized video and theme song. With the unmistakable cue, Emi steps forward, her presence commanding attention as she begins her descent down the ramp towards the ring, gradually revealing herself to the crowd. Bathed in a symphony of cheers and exuberant cries from them.

"Standing at five-foot-four and weighing in at one hundred and sixteen pounds. Give it up for Emi Sakura, the indomitable White Dragon!"

Emi raises her hand triumphantly into the air, fist clenched in a gesture of determination. A spontaneous cheer escapes her lips, fueled by the electric energy coursing through the crowd, further igniting her adrenaline-fueled excitement. With newfound vigor, she sprints towards the ring, effortlessly sliding beneath the bottom ropes with ease and grace.

As she rises to her feet, Emi takes a leisurely stroll around the perimeter of the ring, basking in the admiration of the audience. With a glance towards her opponent, Spectre, she offers a playful wink, a silent acknowledgment of the intensity of their impending showdown.

At the start of a match, Emi often engages in verbal exchanges, ranging from friendly banter to playful jabs. Yet, in this instance, silence prevails. Emi recognizes the gravity of the moment, understanding the significance of the match not only for herself but perhaps also for Spectre.

Spoiler

[Monsy]

The crowd’s dial was powerful. Their voices full of longing for Pure Puroresu Punishment between two readied fighters who brought ferocity and persistence into every equation. Spectre had a hint about this girl’s ability, her aptitude to adapt and conquer when the times called for it. She knew Emi Sakura was an adversary who trained and prepared, that grows and doesn’t ride off her stagnant ability. So the question was, for Spectre, through her observations beforehand and last-minute thoughts now. Was this the same girl from the debut? The one she’s confident in defeating?

And that was a salivating prospect. Perhaps she can shove that dragon back into her shell. Regress the bitch. Clip her wings, if you will. The road without seatbelts means her fingers can come alive and make tight fists. And she scoffed at Emi’s wink, then turned her head away to await for the coming bell.

But first, the referee made sure to do their due diligence. She approached Spectre, tapped her hands and sleeves, then her boots to make sure no weapons hid on her person. Then they grabbed the crowbars and stowed them beneath the bottom turnbuckle. It was Emi’s turn next. The same procedure. And if they cleared the basic test, they’d be set to begin.

DING DING DING.

She hated the fucking bell. Its high-pitch ding feels like her eardrums being poked by a Q-tip plunging way too damn deep. The crowd’s resonating wasn’t as bad, but she still wanted to pull out their tongues to make them shut up. Though, that would just create more screaming. Ugh.

Didn’t matter. Spectre ran straight out of the gate, with zero time to waste on a standoff or stare-down. One-step, two-step, three-step—JUMP! A full 360 rotation mid-air while still launching forward like a raging waterspout. Spectre’s leg struck on the complete rotation, and attempted to roundhouse Emi straight across the face! Then when she landed, however she may, her follow-up was to drop a squat and her leg whistled through wind clockwise—a back leg sweep!

[Arby]

As the bell rang, signaling the start of the match, Emi braced herself for the incoming onslaught from her opponent, Spectre. Her opponent then wastes no time charging forward with a roundhouse kick aimed at Emi's face.

Emi's sharp instincts kicked in, allowing her to duck and narrowly avoid the powerful kick. However, Spectre followed up with a back leg sweep that Emi couldn't escape. The sweep caught her off guard, knocking her off her feet and onto the mat.

Despite the setback, Emi quickly recovers and rolls away from Spectre's next move. She regains her footing, determined not to let the early advantage slip away. Emi proceeds to return the attacks of Spectre with a grapple. Her opponent before her does not look stronger than her so perhaps using her strength this time will be a key to her success. Keeping this seemingly striking-focused fighter on the ground can allow Emi to slither her way to a win.

Despite the initial hit from the back leg sweep, Emi was determined to prove herself as a skilled wrestler and formidable fighter to both her opponent and the crowd. She has fought many times in the ring. This match in L.A.W. is no different.

Come at me, Spectre. She thought to herself.

[Monsy]

Immediately, Emi was dropped on her butt. Not an unexpected outcome for a first timer.

Spectre stayed squatted, having followed through with her sweep and keeping that leg extended. Her hands on the mat in front of herself. When Emi returned to her feet and Spectre was advanced upon, she quickly realized the need to get up and make a defence. Her brows furrowed and she rose, turning their grapple in a collar and elbow tie-up!

The instant they locked up, Spectre held her breath. Bore the brunt of their force and let her retreat steps where she had to. Emi had almost twenty pounds on her, and her strength was serious. More than enough to handle's Spectre's upper body when tied up into grapples. Her shoulders would be pushed back, and not at a slow rate. Her upper-back curled.

She ceded ground for time than to let herself be bent backwards. She needed to keep her legs behind her so they couldn't be swept or toppled. And… So she can direct Emi.

After pointing their march towards the corner turnbuckles, Spectre’s awareness of the ring didn’t even need to break their eye-contact. Instead, she knew exactly when to strike. She finally let her held breath go and then hopped up, pulling her knees in. Both boots attempted to place on Emi’s pelvis as she fell back to the mat. Then when Spectre’s shoulders hit, Emi pulled on-top, Spectre would thrust with all her strength to send them curling upside down towards the turnbuckle pads.

With what's commonly called a Monkey Flip!