[Deathmatch] Skylar Jones Vs. Clarisse Bennett - Violence, Violence....Violence

[Hitman45]

Deathmatch
Victory Conditions: Gained by either pin, KO, or submission from the opponent inside the ring
Weapons are allowed, no countouts


A void, dark and desolate, save for a few fleeting glimpses of bright visuals; vivid and lucid, popping up before disappearing in a poof into the sea of black. That was what Clarisse, leaning against the wall near the mouth of the fan tunnel with a hoodie hiding her face; saw in the blinding darkness behind her eyes shut. Some of them were good, pleasant, about her childhood, playing with her foster siblings and in the loving embrace of her guardians, who tried their best to not let her feel the lack of parents. Others were, unpleasant, awful, hair-raising; from the days of high-school, during the time she got screwed over, the penetentiary, the life after.

All those memories flashed over, like a rather long reel playing in a tape and kept on going, every second which felt a little too real, until her eyes snapped open. Cold sweat covered her now pale visage, eyes wide and lips parted a tad releasing ragged gasps. It took a couple of minutes for the brawler to come to grips with her present situation. She was scheduled for a match today, and her entrance was being prepped up, which wasn't much to begin with. Running her hands on the cold wall behind her, fingers trembling, trying to get purchase, Clarisse stood up upright, unzipping her now sweat soaked hoodie, despite the air-conditioner blowing at full flow.

Ms. Bennett, you are now good to go...

Clarisse peeked behind to see a crew member showing her a 'Go Ahead' signal, the lights of the arena going out on command, all set for the snow-haired woman to make her presence felt, or more accurately, remain anonymous. Her panicked breathing gradually returned to normal, and the heart slowed down to acceptable levels, one of calm and tranquility as she slowly made way out of the tunnel. Clarisse walked down with practiced ease, every step trodden precisely and every route of this entrance motion done like clockwork numerous times beforehand, uassuming to the masses, who were occupied in finding the cause of the power cut and getting adjusted to their temporary vision impairment.

Spoiler

Leaping over the barricade, her boots thudded against the hard surface of the dark floor, as Clarisse paced her movements to get in the ring, cagy and with caution. The light soon resumed normal service, focusing on the centre of attraction of the night, the wrestling ring, to see the snow-haired woman who had her eyelids shut and inhaling deeping trying to get her head in this fight. It was a match which promised a lot of violence, grit and an all out bloodbath, something Clarisse was accustomed to. Generally these kind of fights weren't set up between fighters who weren't aware of each other and was more adept to add spice to an ongoing beef. But the brawler wasn't one to mind those logistical and narrative based intricacies and simply began to limber up, rolling shoulders, cranking her head while making a conscious effort to avoid eye-contact with the rapturous mob, awaiting her prospective opponent for the night...

[Deskfan45]

In the other locker room, Skylar Jones leaned on the wall, tapping her foot and fidgeting impatiently. She felt like shit, which wasn't uncommon for her. She always felt at least a little shitty. It always loomed over her: Her anger, her hatred of so many people and things, and especially her hatred of herself. For one reason or another, it'd all been particularly strong today. but now she got to indulge in her favorite coping mechanism: good old fashioned bloody violence. For a good twenty minutes or so, Skylar would have an outlet for all the misery inside of her, letting it out in a sadomasochistic storm of blood and gore. After Clarrise's entrance was finished, the lights would go out once more, this time every speaker and screen playing TV static. After a few moments, the lights came back on, and Skylar's entrance music began to play. with Skylar now standing nonchalantly at the top of the ramp, a slight smirk across her face.

Skylar

Music

A chorus of boos and jeers came from the audience as the smirking brunette heel came down the entrance ramp, playfully swinging her arms back and forth. Approaching the ring, she hopped onto the apron and stepped between the ropes, face to face with her opponent. She looked Clarisse in the eye, sizing the girl up. Bitch looked tough, but Sky was sure she could take her down.

[Hitman45]

Clarisse was laser-focused on maintaining her own composure and sanity, not ready to be overrawed by the noise of the rowdy spectators which only became difficult when her opponent emerged, received with a chorus of jeers and boos from all over. But the wrapped woman didn't seem to care about it one bit, simply prancing towards the ring leisurely and then getting inside.

The snow-haired woman inhaled deeply, one final time to get into the right frame of mind before meeting eyes with the shorter woman, who seemed to relish the prospect of this match, a chance to bathe in blood and let out all of the violent tendencies screaming to be set free. Clarisse would remain unfazed, returning the stare with her own piercing gaze, cold and emotionless, waiting for the fight to begin.

Once the referee would give the go ahead, Clarisse, not being the one to pounce on her opponent straight away would start to circle the ring, to observe and wait, as it had been in her experience that her opponents have always been very eager to pound her to the ground, and Skylar looked no different. So the initial course of action for Clarisse was set—sit back, observe and react...