Laxia von Roswell vs. Sheila Morgan II - Bushwacked

[BlackAkuma]

Oh, no, she didn’t.

Sheila could take a lot of insults. She was used to them. She even liked them in the right situations. She loved it when people threw a little shit her way, some verbal sparring, made her matches way more interesting that wrestling in silence. She tended to be bulletproof when it came to shittalking, and she was sure she’d heard worse than whatever this primadonna princess could throw her way.

But then the woman had to go and talk shit about her tits. Fuck that, Sheila’s tits were awesome. Several of her LAW opponents had made enough of a habit of groping them that was for sure. Laxia was just talking straight slander, and she wasn’t about to stand for it.

”Groddy little…” Sheila rolled over to her side and clutched her chest, expecting Laxia to continue the onslaught, but no - instead her opponent was taking a break, going over to the face and messing around with them, having her own little tour, acting as if Sheila wasn’t even a threat at the moment.

To be fair, she demonstrably wasn’t. With her body hurting as much as it did, Sheila felt pancaked, like her entire body was compressed and crushed, and it hurt just to move. Even to breathe.

But that was okay. Pain could work for her. Instead of seething or wasting energy, Sheila focused on getting her body under control, dealing with what faculties she had left and focusing. It wasn’t easy, but it would’ve been significantly less easy if Laxia was applying pressure, which she definitely wasn’t.

By the time Laxia returned, Sheila was…well, not healed, definitely not that. But better. Stronger. More capable. So, when the tangerine terror came over and snagged her with the headlock, she had a little surprise waiting for her.

She let them get close to the table, just close enough, then she sprung into action. Dipping down, she wrapped her arms around Laxia’s waist, lifted her up, and held her aloft, looking like she was about to go for an Atomic Drop. As funny as that would’ve been, though, she had a better idea - instead of dropping her opponent’s tailbone on her knee, she attempted to drop Laxia down for a hard, crashing sit on the table, one that would send her crashing through.

[Letta]

Sheila had done nothing to interrupt Laxia while she quenched her thirst and entertained the crowd, and she offered little resistance when Laxia returned to haul her up. Led along with her head tucked beneath Laxia’s arm, she seemed a far cry from the woman who had been running wild only moments earlier. Laxia rather liked the change, a satisfied smile lifting her lips as she looked down at an opponent who appeared to be living up to her new nickname.

“There’s a good girl... You even set the table for me yourself~.”

Laxia playfully stroked Sheila’s disheveled hair with her free hand, adding a light pat as though amused by how obediently she followed. With the table directly ahead, her plan was simple. Lay Sheila across it, launch herself from a suitable height, and bring the woman crashing through the very stage she had prepared... a spectacle the crowd would surely appreciate.

“I’m going to show you something you’ll like, so just stay right here and—”

Sheila suddenly dipped beneath her arm, cutting Laxia short as two arms wrapped around her waist. This was no feeble attempt to cling to her; the grip tightened firmly around her body, and before she could react, her feet left the ground.

“Wha...?!”

Laxia’s eyes widened as the woman she had been dragging around suddenly hoisted her into the air, her headlock slipping loose as she scrambled to regain her balance.

“Waaah...! Wait, you...!”

Her boots flailed as she reached for Sheila’s shoulders, but she was already well off the ground, the sudden lift wiping the relaxed smile from her face. She had thought Sheila was exhausted, too spent to offer any resistance, but that apparent meekness took on a different meaning now. While Laxia had been talking and playing to the crowd, her opponent had been gathering the strength to fight back. Laxia tried to turn her head, but before she could look behind her, Sheila drove her down, slamming her backside onto the hard tabletop...!

CRACK - !

“AAAAH...!!”

Her well-padded rear did little to cushion the blow to her tailbone, and the impact sent a jolt racing up her spine, stiffening her body and throwing her head back as though an electric current had shot through her. For one punishing instant, the table seemed utterly unyielding beneath her, leaving her to absorb the full shock before it finally gave. The tabletop split and buckled, its legs folding beneath it as Laxia collapsed along with the ruined structure. With the surface beneath her suddenly gone, she dropped again before she could brace herself, her back striking the broken sections of wood as another cloud of dust rose around her.

Her scream faded into ragged groans as she squeezed her eyes shut and brought one hand to her lower back. Every slight movement sent pain shooting from her tailbone up her spine, leaving her sprawled where she had intended to lay Sheila. She had meant to give the crowd another spectacular moment, but once again, it was Laxia lying amid the wreckage of a broken table.

[BlackAkuma]

Sheila wasn’t exactly what you would call a ‘power wrestler’. She was stronger than she looked, but she had to be, with a body as wiry, skinny, and string-bean as hers. She had a lot of compact, tight power, giving her decent force to work with, at least as far as lightweights went.

All that to say, the fine art of lifting people up and putting them down really hard wasn’t her strong suit. She was much happier throwing herself at opponents, not throwing them around. But today was a special sort of day, and all the stops needed to be brought out.

Down came Laxia, smashing into the table and obliterating it with that - admittedly quite cute - ass of hers, making far more noise than you would’ve thought for such a small body. Pulling that off after repeated field goals had scored in her ribs wasn’t exactly pleasant for Sheila, however, and she immediately flopped on her back, gasping for air as she sprawled in the dirt.

”Get up.” She smacked herself in the face. ”Getupgetupgetup.”

With a hoarse, defiant growl, Sheila sat up and crawled past Laxia, scattering the wooden shards about as she reached under the ring apron. Her fumbling hands sifted through the dark, past chairs, tables, ladders, and a vaguely phallic object, until they found what they were looking for. ”There we go!”

Chains.

Sheila pulled it out from under the apron and held it high, hoisting about four feet of thick, iron chains above her head as the crowd roared. Not wanting to waste any time - any more time - she moved over to Laxia’s downed body and got to work. ”For the record, I don’t give a shit about you or your stupid fucking dog. You want to compare your bitch to me, huh?” She gave Laxia a spiteful kick, then knelt down beside her. ”I’m not the one on a goddamn leash.”

To prove her point, she reached out, tried to wrap the chain around Laxia’s neck, and proceeded to backpedal towards the rusted up truck, looking to drag her foe - kicking and screaming - towards it in the roughest way she could imagine at the moment. Sheila had all sorts of plans in that particular direction.

[Letta]

It was not only the pain that bothered Laxia, but the indignity of being hoisted into the air by a woman lighter than herself, only for the table to briefly support her weight before collapsing with a tremendous crash, as though her weight alone had been too much for it. She was hardly that heavy, and the wretched thing had been old to begin with, so it must have been on the verge of falling apart despite looking reasonably sturdy - or at least, that was what Laxia preferred to believe. Even her wounded pride had to give way to the pain surging from her tailbone, making her bite her lip as every attempt to move drew another shaky groan from her.

“Nnngh...”

I have to move...

Planting one hand against the wreckage, Laxia tried to push herself upright, but the effort sent fresh pain through her lower back, leaving her elbow trembling before it buckled beneath her- meanwhile, Sheila had lifted the ring skirt, and the crowd was beginning to cheer. The sound that had delighted her only moments earlier now made her stomach drop, because whatever Sheila had found was clearly something these people wanted to see, which could hardly mean anything good for Laxia.

I have to move...! Now...!

Gritting her teeth, she tried again, but she had barely lifted one shoulder clear of the wreckage when Sheila’s boot slammed into her side.

“AAGH...!”

Her body jerked sideways with a shrill cry, her supporting hand slipping as she fell back against the broken tabletop and heard Sheila’s voice somewhere above her. Monty was a handsome dog and most certainly male, and Laxia would have liked to set Sheila straight, but she could barely catch her breath, let alone waste it defending her dog’s dignity. Then, as Sheila finished her remark about a leash, something cold and hard touched Laxia’s neck, the accompanying clink of metal giving the words an unwelcome meaning- by the time she reached up, wide-eyed, the chain was already wrapped around her.

“Ah... no...!! Khh...! Ghk...!”

Standing by Laxia’s head, Sheila began to back away, pulling the chain taut, and although Laxia instinctively seized it with both hands, a merciless yank sent her sliding headfirst across the wreckage, her back and shoulders scraping over the broken wood as her attempt to catch her breath dissolved into harsh coughing. With every backward step Sheila took, Laxia was dragged farther along the ground, helpless to resist the pull.

“Kh... nnngh...! Guh.. wait-”

Her boots scraped frantically through the dirt as she bent her knees and tried to plant her feet, but they slipped before she could brace herself, kicking up little clouds of dust while her back and backside continued to scrape along the ground even after she had cleared the wreckage. Unable to bear being dragged like this any longer, Laxia twisted sideways without releasing the chain, her shoulders turning before her hips and legs followed. By the time she had managed to turn toward Sheila, she was on her hands and knees, with no chance to stand before the chain tugged again, forcing her to scramble forward to keep from pitching onto her face. Laxia scrambled across the rough ground on her hands and knees, struggling to keep pace with Sheila as she backed away. Only moments earlier, she had been congratulating herself on leading the woman around so obediently, yet now she was the one being dragged along on the end of Sheila’s chain.

“Guuugh...! Nnngh-”

Laxia tried to lift her head, but her view lurched between the dirt beneath her and Sheila’s retreating legs, offering no clue as to where she was being taken before the chain snapped taut once more and dragged her onward.

[BlackAkuma]

Fuck, was this bitch already starting to get back up? Sheila had only come over to kick the woman out of spite, just wanting to pile on the damage, but when she came over she could’ve sworn the woman was making a legitimate attempt to rise and get back on her feet, after nearly being split in half by that table and dropped on the hard ground.

It was impressive that she had that kind of fight left in her, so fast after taking a hard hit, and a reminder of the sort of woman she was dealing with. Fuck scruples, she needed to put Laxia in the dirt, in every way possible.

On came the chain, wrapped nice and tight. Laxia put up a fight, like she always did, but there was no two ways about this - she was going and she was going in the roughest way possible, hauled along, leaving a chaotic trail in their wake as they went. Laxia tried to rise a few times, but Sheila kept chain taught every inch of the way, not willing to give her opponent an inch of control.

“Come on, for fuck's sake, nearly there, shift ya ass, ya rotten little drongo…”

It wasn’t too long before they reached their destination, with Sheila stopping just off to the side of the busted up truck that had been rotting in this field for ages, so rusted and faded out that you could scarcely guess what color it used to be.

Sheila gave Laxia one, final kick, then made her way behind the truck, tossing off the tarp as she went and revealing a bevy of goodies in the process, the tools of some long forgotten handyman who probably wasn’t even alive to use them anymore. A couple of hoes, rakes, shoulders, a tool box and the like, but grabbed Sheila’s attention were the items squirreled away in the corner. ”That’ll do nicely.”

She reached and pulled out two phosphorus tubes, holding them in her hands like twin blades as she came around the side. With a feral grin, she brought one up and swung it down, looking to let it crash and explode on Laxia’s body, with the other one coming down a moment later with the same force and intent.

[Letta]

“Ghk...! Khh...!”

Laxia crawled through the dirt on her hands and knees, forced to keep pace with every pull of the chain. Whenever she fell behind, the pressure around her neck tightened, leaving her struggling for breath as tears gathered in her eyes. Saliva trailed from her parted lips, but she could not spare a hand to wipe it away. When the pulling finally stopped and the chain slackened, she braced herself on trembling arms and hurriedly drew breath, only for Sheila’s boot to drive into her stomach before she could recover.

“Hah... *pant* urgh...!”

Her arms gave way, and she toppled sideways before rolling onto her back, both hands clutching her abdomen. Nausea rose in her throat, making her press her lips together before the need for air forced them apart again. Drawing her knees up hurt her stomach, while shifting her back brought the pain in her tailbone surging back. Nearby, Sheila was rummaging through something, but Laxia was too focused on getting up to see what she was doing. Before the woman returned, she needed to at least get off her back, so she gritted her teeth, rolled onto her side, and struggled to draw her knees beneath her. She had barely begun to support herself on trembling arms when-

CRACK—!

“AAGH...!”

A fluorescent tube shattered across her lower back, sending a brief cloud of white dust into the air. Laxia arched with a startled scream, one hand slipping across the dirt as she turned her head and caught sight of fragments glittering in the sunlight. At first, she barely understood what had struck her, but the tinkling of glass falling into the dirt and the sting spreading across her back soon made it clear.

Did she just... break GLASS...!? On me...?!

This was nothing like being hit with the bat. Her skin stung in several places, and the pain sharpened as she twisted. She tried to reach behind her, nearly lost her balance, and hurriedly planted her hand again before lifting her head.

“Aaaah...! *Cough*...! What the hell are you-”

Her outraged protest broke off as Sheila’s other hand rose through the thinning dust, and Laxia’s eyes widened at the sight of a second tube. She instinctively hunched her shoulders and twisted away, but it came down across her left shoulder all the same.

CRACK—!

“AAAAH...!”

Glass burst around her again, scattering white powder over her hair and shoulder. She pulled the stricken arm close to her body, leaving the other to bear her weight as her upper body sagged toward the ground. Her head dropped again, disheveled hair falling across her face as another broken cry escaped her. The crowd roared as though they had been waiting for that second crash, whistles and applause mingling as spectators leaned closer to the action through the drifting dust. The same people who had cheered Laxia’s attacks were now just as delighted to watch fluorescent tubes shatter against her. Laxia was too busy struggling for breath to be angry with the crowd. Looking down at her left shoulder, she saw red marks beneath the white powder, and her lips trembled.

“Nnngh...! Ah...”

Broken glass lay scattered across the dirt, while beads of blood began to form along the thin scratches on her lower back and left shoulder. Her hand paused before touching her shoulder, her gaze lingering on the marks before she gritted her teeth and looked up at Sheila. Tears still clung to her lashes, but the glare she fixed on her opponent was anything but meek.

[BlackAkuma]

There it was. Sheila had been looking for that exact look in Laxia’s eyes. It was quick, and she wouldn’t have been able to notice it if she hadn't been close enough to give her a good look, but she saw it after the first bulb came down and shattered across Laxia’s back and broke - no, exploded into a thousand pieces, scattering all around them and filling the air with toxic dust. Disbelief flashed in the woman’s eyes, as if she were only now registering where they were, what they were doing, and how far Sheila would go.

She felt the woman got the message. But just in case? Here comes the second one.

She tried to protect herself from this one, but there was just no blocking this sort of thing - it came down and broke apart all over, dumping her with its fiery contents. Sheila knew the pain she was going through well; she had experienced it a dozen times. It felt like hundreds of tiny, hot needles pricking at the skin all at once, just this hurt burst of burning pain. She thought it was bad now. Just wait until she tries to pick the shards out.

She gave Laxia a moment to process the pain, really let it sink in, then reached down and threw a quick punch across her face, knocking some sense into her before she gripped the woman by the hair, grabbing a handful of the orange stuff.

”Aw, what’s wrong? Don’t have more dog stories to tell me about?” She hauled the woman along, forcing her to either stand and come with her or get dragged through the glass which would only make it worse.

Up the truck. Sheila began to scale up the front of it, working her way over the engine, then over the windshield, forcing Laxia to follow her if she didn’t want to lose a clump of hair. ”Almost there, almost there…”

[Letta]

Laxia glared at Sheila, confusion, pain, and anger mingling in her eyes. Her lower back and shoulder still stung where the tubes had struck, every slight movement sending a burning sensation across her skin. Even shifting her position gave her pause, with broken glass catching the sunlight wherever she might plant a hand or move a knee. While she hesitated, Sheila’s fist struck her cheek.

“Aagh...!”

Her head snapped sideways, orange hair whipping across her face as her upper body tipped over. Her arm and shoulder landed among the scattered glass, making her flinch, but she could not keep her face from following them toward the ground. Just before it reached the dirt, fingers dug into her hair and jerked her head up. Thanks to Sheila, at least her face had been spared the broken glass. Such a thoughtful gesture- Laxia might even have thanked her if it had not felt as though her hair were being torn from her scalp.

“Aaahhh...!!”

Sheila kept hauling her forward, and the sharp stinging along her arm and side as they scraped across the ground forced Laxia to hurriedly draw her knees beneath her. Unless she got up, she would be dragged straight through the rest of it. She planted one foot, then barely managed to support herself on the other, staggering along without enough time to straighten. Small tears and holes now dotted her dirt-stained gear, and the red marks along her arm and shoulder were growing more pronounced. Even so, she had no choice but to keep following Sheila.

“My hair... let go...”

Her protest faded into ragged breathing as Sheila began climbing the front of the truck, giving no thought to whether Laxia could find her footing or even manage the climb. Laxia caught Sheila’s wrist with one hand and braced the other against the truck. Every upward tug drew a short groan, and whenever her footing slipped, the pain in her scalp sharpened, forcing her to scramble after her opponent. The hood answered their boots with hollow clangs. Laxia managed to get one knee onto it and haul herself up, but before she could steady herself, Sheila was already pulling her onward.

Her hair, again. To get her up, to drag her along, and now to haul her onto this wreck of a truck- how much longer was she supposed to tolerate having her hair used as a handle? Laxia gritted her teeth, the last of her restraint wearing thin beneath another sharp tug.

“I said... let GO...!”

Her arm rose with the furious shout, striking at Sheila’s wrist as she wrenched her head away. Still kneeling on the hood, she immediately drove her other fist upward, aiming an uppercut at the stomach directly in front of her. There would be no lecture, no carefully chosen remark- right now, she wanted to hear that woman make the same pained noises she had been forcing out of Laxia. Putting her weight behind the punch, Laxia meant to make the most of any opening it created. If Sheila doubled over, she would draw her feet beneath her and move around behind her opponent, turning her own back toward the windshield as she tried to wrap both arms around Sheila’s waist.

This time, she would be the one holding on. Laxia was no powerhouse, but she could manage to lift someone Sheila’s size, and a generous helping of anger might help her ignore her own pain long enough to do it. Clearly, being grabbed around the waist and slammed through a table had stayed with her, judging by how determined she was to return the favor in much the same fashion. She tried to draw Sheila close, planting both feet on the hood.

“Haaaaah...!”

With a cry that carried all her pent-up frustration, Laxia drove upward, trying to hoist Sheila off her feet. The hood boomed beneath her boots as she threw herself backward toward the windshield, attempting to send her opponent over her head and into the truck bed...!

[BlackAkuma]

The match hadn't even been going that long, but you wouldn’t have known that to look at Sheila and Laxia at the moment. For her part, the Wild One was caked in dirty, her hair already a ragged mess - well, more than it was by default, anyway. She looked every bit like the cavewoman she dressed up as, like she’d come from a time long before the concept of showering had been a thing.

Laxia didn’t look much better, with her body so thoroughly caked that it was genuinely hard to tell what color her outfit was at this point. And yes, Sheila took a great deal of pride in that. She sincerely hoped the camera crew, who was circling around nearby but not getting too close, was getting a good shot of all this.

And she damned sure hoped they got a shot of what was about to happen.

”Yeah, I’ll let your hair go. In a minute, don’t worry.”

It was a promise she fully intended to keep, too, as she made her way up the truck. The crowd looked on with growing anticipation, their voices rising as they began to cotton onto her plan. She just needed to drag her up, higher and higher…

She had planned to get her all the way on top before she made her move, but this time Laxia beat her to the punch, lashing out with a surprising blow before she could finish the ascent. The blow folded her up, and before she knew what was going on, Laxia was behind her, wrapping her arms around her in a familiar position.

”No-”

Yes.

Up and over she went, flying over to the cab of the truck. That would’ve been a bad enough landing by itself, but the cab wasn’t bare. There were tools there. Lots of them. Lots of sharp tools.

It sucked.

Sheila let out a hoarse shriek as she hit the tool-filled bed and went rolling off onto the dirty behind it. She wasn’t even sure exactly what had cut into her back when she hit, but it was a lot - cut and scraps and gashes all over sides and thighs and shoulder, leaving gnarly red gashes all over, feeling as if she’d been stabbed in a dozen places all over. Sheila crashed into the the dirt and thrashed about like a live wire, screaming and kicking up a literal dust storm around, shooting out stream of malformed, indecipherable curses.