Laxia von Roswell vs. Sheila Morgan II - Bushwacked

[BlackAkuma]

Match Type: Backyard Brawl
Victory Conditions: Victory by pinfall, submission or KO. Anything goes.

***

Kiwikurra wasn’t the sort of place tourists stopped by or people detoured to on their way somewhere else. It wasn’t the sort of place your travel app would recommend, or where you’d see a cute documentary on YouTube. Depending on how old or new your map was, you’d never find it if you searched, and you'd never know the exact sequence of dirt roads you had to turn off and on to in order to get to the right spots. Calling it ‘remote’ felt like an understatement; coming from Japan, or even the rest of Australia, it felt like entering another world. Like it was impossible for a place like this to even be in the same country as modern civilization.

But

called it home, and it felt damned good to be back.

She’d come off the plane a few days ago, wanting to start setting up the old Outback Wrestling arena, make sure she sent out the invites, and get all her old mates to drive down. To her surprise, they were already there, waiting for her and having done all the heavy work. The old wrestling stage sat smack dab in the middle of the abandoned football field where they used to hold all her matches. They’d scattered the usual trash and nonsense around the field: a rusted-out old truck, oil drums, a steel chair, tables, fluorescent light tubes, et cetera, et cetera. The invites had gone out, and word was spreading through the community: ‘Outback Wrestling returns, one night only’.

And now she was here. Back in the grass, the sun beating down on her face, she looked at her scattered countrymen in the bleachers and let a wave of golden nostalgia wash over her. Barely a cloud in the sky, the air blazing hot, insects buzzing, and what she assumed were a few vultures circling in the distance. She couldn't have

With a baseball bat in hand, she marched out from behind the bleachers as her

[media][/media]

roared behind her, its shredding guitar echoing across the field. The crowd wasn’t huge - no more than four or five dozen, maybe in the fifties - since more wrestling fans didn’t even know this piece of hell existed in Australia, much less knew how to find it. But the few there made enough noise to compensate for thousands. A place like this rarely got any outside entertainment. The camera crews, professional referees, and all the other amenities LAW provided seemed almost like they’d come from outer space.

The crowd was loud and energetic, and Sheila matched it as she made her way to the ring, skipping across the patchy grass with her hand held high and her bat pointed skyward. ”That’s right, fuckers! I’m back!”

Sheila tossed her bat into the ring, slid off her jacket, and let it fall where it may, then rolled under the ropes and pumped her fist as she made her way around the ring, soaking up the energy. Straightaway, she knew that having the match here was the best decision she’d made in LAW, worth all of the bitching she’d endured from management for strong-arming them into accepting this match and bringing their crew out in the middle of nowhere.

Almost everything was perfect. Now, all she needed was a certain blonde, stuffy rich bitch to batter around, and she wouldn’t have to wait much longer for that, would she?

[Letta]

Laxia’s anger had been building throughout the journey. First, there had been the flight. The privacy she took for granted in first class was gone, along with a seat where she could comfortably stretch out. Economy. Of all things. Instead of having her own space, she had strangers sitting on either side of her. They were LAW staff accompanying her, technically, but that hardly made her want to lean on their shoulders. Even moving an arm meant being mindful of someone else, and she had spent the long flight sitting rigidly upright.

Then there had been the road, if it could even be called a road. Every jolt sent her bouncing in the jeep’s seat. Dirt and dust stretched as far as she could see, and with no windows to keep it out, dust whipped in from either side. By the time they arrived, she was coated in the stuff. Even running a hand through her hair left grit on her fingertips. The care she had taken with her appearance before leaving had long since gone to waste.

And then, the accommodation. By Laxia’s standards, even calling it accommodation was generous. It was little more than a hut to shelter in for the night. Whenever she tried to sleep, something buzzed nearby. Whenever she finally closed her eyes, the sensation of something moving across her skin brought her upright again. Whether it was an actual insect or merely her frayed nerves hardly mattered. Either way, she was not sleeping.

Each time she complained, the staff member accompanying her quietly produced the paperwork. A clause requiring her to appear at overseas events. Beneath it sat her own signature. She had put far more effort into signing her name than reading the terms. It was unmistakably hers. Elaborate enough to recognize at a glance, and especially irritating to look at today. What a convenient clause. For them, at least.

“...You can stop showing me that document now.” Laxia pressed her lips together and turned away.

That damned contract...!

Of course, she was also the one who had declared that Sheila’s territory would become part of her own domain. But the picture in her mind at the time had looked rather different from this. It had included a proper bed and bathroom, for a start. She certainly hadn’t expected an overseas appearance to involve quite this much discomfort. The unfamiliar scenery was not entirely without interest. The endless sky and sights she would never find in a city did catch her attention for a while.

A little while. That hardly meant she wanted to stay here. Much less wrestle here. Laxia surveyed the venue before her. Patchy grass. Old bleachers. A wrestling ring standing in the middle of it all. Her frown deepened as she took in the oil drums, tables, and rusted truck scattered around it. Was this a wrestling venue, or just a scrapyard with a ring in it? At least there were more spectators than she had expected. Somewhere this remote, she had anticipated more insects than wrestling fans, yet a fair number of people had gathered in the bleachers. They certainly made a remarkable amount of noise for their numbers.

And at the center of it all was Sheila. There was one consolation. Fighting that woman brought a peculiar sense of freedom. Words Laxia would ordinarily swallow came spilling out, and feelings she usually kept neatly contained were given free rein. If she needed somewhere to vent all the frustration she had built up over the journey, a very suitable opponent was waiting in the ring.

Laxia’s music began to play.

She did not stop to pose as she usually would. Nor did she raise her chin and offer the crowd a smile.

She emerged wearing a thunderous expression and strode toward the ring without so much as a glance at the people lining her path. Dry earth crunched beneath her boots. She disliked that, too. Climbing onto the apron, Laxia slipped between the ropes. She went straight toward Sheila, without pausing to survey the ring or acknowledge the audience.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve put me through....?!”

She stopped close to her and gestured at their surroundings.

“...Dragged me all this way for this dump..”

She could have complained at length. The cramped airplane seat, the endless jolting of the car, the dust, the insects whose names she had no desire to learn. But with Sheila standing in front of her, even having to explain it all felt like another indignity. Laxia had barely slept, while Sheila looked delighted to be in her element. She drew a short breath. Tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, she squared her shoulders and straightened. It was an attempt to recover her usual poise, but the anger in her eyes remained plainly visible.

“Better brace yourself...”

Her gaze settled firmly on Sheila.

“You have quite a lot to answer for.”

The corners of her lips lifted slightly. There was little warmth in the smile. Coming all this way had to be worth something. Laxia intended to work out every last bit of her frustration before she went home.

[BlackAkuma]

”Yes!”

Leave it to Laxia to ask the dumbest question in history. She had dragged this woman, literally, across the damn planet. Had spared no expense in getting her into a ring in a country she would never have willingly set foot in otherwise. They were fighting at the end of the world. The place looked like something out of a Mad Max movie.

Did she want to make the woman uncomfortable? Abso-fucking-lutely. So, when she saw the woman marching down to the ring, looking like someone had dragged her face-first through a bush, it brought a swell of pure pride to her face. Whatever happened today, she was going to take some real pride in pulling this bitch out of her comfort zone.

Hand on a hip, baseball bat at her side, she smirked as Laxia continued to make her attempt at intimidating. It was a nice attempt, she could appreciate the nerve, but here it would mean absolutely jack shit. She could prove that, too.

”You hear that, boys?” She turned to the crowd, bat held high, commanding their attention. ”Princess Powderpuff hear calls this place a dump! She doesn’t want to be here! She does not find the accommodations to her high standards!” That last one got more than a few chuckles, herself. ”Do we give a single shit?”

To that, the crowd replied with an uproarious, deafening: ”FUCK NO!”

”About what I thought.” She spun about on her heel and faced Laxia once again. ”Newsflash, princess. No one gives a flying fuck about your comfort level, least of all me. So get your balls out of your purse and let’s get this started.”

The referee was already making her way into the ring, in keeping with Outback Wrestling tradition, the referee was wearing a reasonably hot woman in a black-and-white striped swimsuit. Just like Sheila wanted it.

[Letta]

For all Laxia’s stern warnings, Sheila only seemed amused. In fact, the angrier Laxia became, the more she appeared to enjoy herself. That alone was irritating enough. Laxia scoffed at the sight of her standing there with one hand on her hip and a baseball bat at her side. Did she think holding that thing made her look more intimidating? It certainly did not impress Laxia. She was accustomed to contests decided by split-second judgment and precise bladework. Compared to the speed and precision of a blade, a baseball bat swung with brute force seemed crude rather than intimidating. Sheila looked more like an unruly child showing off a stick.

The crowd suited her perfectly, too. Laughter broke out as she broadcast Laxia’s complaints, and a few spectators shouted back especially loudly, apparently taking the remark about their precious dump personally. When that thunderous chorus of profanity followed, Laxia rolled her eyes and shook her head. Her standards were not even particularly high. A clean bedroom and bathroom. Was that really such an outrageous request..? They could laugh all they liked, but a taste of real comfort would soon change their minds. Who would willingly return to discomfort after experiencing something better? Laxia certainly could not imagine it. If people were willing to gather somewhere this remote, perhaps there was a business opportunity in opening a decent place to stay. A tiny venture, admittedly, but...

The woman entering the ring interrupted that train of thought. For a moment, Laxia did not know where to look. The swimsuit left little doubt about the curves beneath it. She caught herself looking down, quickly brought her gaze back to the woman’s face, then paused as she registered the black-and-white stripes. Surely not.

That was the referee...!?

Where did one even begin with this place? Laxia pressed her lips into a thin line. They were supposedly here to watch a sporting contest. Was it really necessary to present the referee like that..? She hardly needed an explanation of whose tastes this little arrangement was meant to satisfy. Reducing a sport to cheap eye candy struck her as thoroughly tasteless. She had no intention of being that sort of attraction today. She did, of course, intend to command the audience’s attention. But by the end of the match, there would be no mistaking what they were cheering for. Just as before, it would be Laxia still standing in the ring.

What if she won over Sheila’s hometown crowd, too? The corners of her lips lifted ever so slightly. Losing in front of people she considered her own would sting badly enough. Having them applaud her opponent’s victory as well? That might be a rather cruel outcome for Sheila. Considering everything Laxia had endured just to get here, however, she could live with that. Besides, the woman was still smirking. Laxia wanted nothing more than to charge straight at her and wipe that expression off her face.

DING DING DING - !!!

Fortunately, the referee checked that both women were ready, then signaled for the match to begin. Laxia moved immediately, reaching the ropes in a few quick strides before turning to hit them back-first. They stretched under her weight. Ordinarily, she would have measured the distance, tested her opponent’s reactions, and waited for the right opening. Right now, she did not feel like waiting. The ropes sprang back, sending Laxia charging straight at Sheila. Her boots pounded the canvas as she raised one arm for the strike.

“Haaah...!”

Putting all the frustration of the journey behind the blow, Laxia swung her arm at Sheila’s upper chest in a fierce lariat, aiming to flatten her opponent and that infuriating smile against the mat...!

[BlackAkuma]

Fuck, this felt good. This was Sheila’s energy all day long. She didn’t have anything against the Japanese crowds, mind you - they were fine, and they could get behind a match well enough. Could be suitably rowdy when the occasion called for it, and no one could say they didn’t have passion. But, as a general rule, they were a little too clean. A little too sterilized. They liked things in their proper place, had a certain order to them.

That wasn’t what wrestling was. That wasn’t what fighting was. The real fight was out here, in the elements, the way it all started. This was wrestling at its purest. No sponsorships, no blimps flying overhead, no commercial breaks. Just a lot of blood and a lot of dirt.

She breathed deep, took it all in, and turned just in time to see Laxia react to the referee, looking her over in disbelief. Figured she would act like that, though that didn’t mean Sheila thought it made any sense. It was hot as fuck out, the less clothing, the better. Hell, Sheila would’ve worn a bikini herself if it wouldn’t have gotten her scratched to hell. She might even go topless later, there was a thought.

For now, she rolled her neck, blew a kiss at the referee, and stepped back as the bell rang, the bell, in this case, a kitchen pan hit with a hammer. They never could find a proper one.

Sheila was just about to rush in when Laxia beat her to it. No slow start for her this time, no sizing up period, no throwing out a few more taunts. She just came rushing in, full speed and headlong, taking the fight right to Sheila. The Wild One had to admit, she liked the guts, and it was good to see her opponent already bringing the heat.

However, Laxia had one small problem. One thing she might’ve been overlooking when she decided to take this course of action. A simple thing.

Sheila Morgan had a baseball bat.

As Laxia came in and reared back for that lariat, Sheila jumped forward, brought the baseball bat up, and shot it straight out, driving the head of it hard towards Laxia’s chest, looking to hit he square between the tits before she could even think about properly landing that hit.

[Letta]

Laxia had not even considered that Sheila might react in time. At this speed, surely all the woman could manage was a moment of panicked flailing before the lariat sent her sprawling across the mat. That was how this was supposed to go. Even if Sheila tried to use that baseball bat, what could she do beyond throwing out a wild, desperate swing? A wide, predictable arc. Nothing Laxia could not handle.

But Sheila did not retreat. She lunged forward instead. Laxia’s eyes widened. With both women moving toward each other, the gap closed far faster than she had anticipated. Her arm was still drawn back; she had not even begun to swing it forward.

Ah...

The bat did not sweep through a broad arc. It shot straight toward Laxia’s chest in a short, direct thrust. The movement was all too familiar. An opponent closing in, an opening exposed, a thrust delivered straight into it. She had just been feeling so superior about her swordsmanship. Now Sheila was turning that same precision against her. with a baseball bat, no less.

I can’t... dodge...!

Recognizing the danger was one thing. Stopping herself was another. The momentum from the ropes was still carrying her forward. She tried to plant a foot and change direction, but the end of the bat was already upon her.

“AAAAH...!”

Its blunt end drove squarely into the center of her chest. Her own momentum only made the impact worse. Laxia’s upper body snapped backward, and the arm she had raised for the lariat swung uselessly through empty air. Her sharp scream broke off as the breath was knocked out of her. Her feet scrambled beneath her. One step back, then another awkward one. Neither was enough to save her balance. Her knees buckled, and she landed hard on her backside.

“Aah...! Nnngh...”

Sitting on the mat, she hurriedly clutched her chest with both hands. The bat was no longer touching her, but a dull pressure lingered where it had struck, as though it were still pressed against her. Trying to inhale brought a fresh stab of pain. Laxia hunched her shoulders and let out a short groan.

[BlackAkuma]

Fuck, that had to suck. Like getting punched in the chest with a steel fist, that’s what Sheila imagined it as. And Laxia had been running right into it, too, so that doubled the impact. Might even be a fracture or a broken rib, if she had to guess. What a shame.

”Heh”.”

The crowd gave a raucous round of cheers as Sheila scored the first hit of the match, knocking Laxia flat on her - admittedly cute - ass and setting the tone for how she expected the match to. She could already tell the American was looking at this match the wrong way, still stuck in that traditional professional wrestling mindset, not fully grasping the situation she was in or how this was going to go. Just because this and their first match were both no-disqualification didn’t mean the environment was the same.

She’d learn. Or get demolished. Either way, it’d be fun for Sheila. ”Nap time’s over, blondie.” She stomped over, reached down, and grabbed a handful of Laxia’s lustrous golden locks, gripping the strands tight. ”Up and at ‘em!”

Sheila hauled her up, forced her to stand, and, the moment she was upright, gripped the baseball bat at both ends and shoved it against her opponent’s chest. Like that, she drove forward toward the corner, trying to pin her there and keep her pressed against it.

[Letta]

Laxia sat on the mat, rubbing her aching chest. So much for that confident charge. Instead of knocking Sheila down, she had landed on her backside before she could even get a proper swing in. The louder the crowd cheered, the hotter her face grew. She hardly needed to check who they were cheering for. Biting her lip, Laxia tried to catch her breath, but Sheila had no intention of giving her even that brief respite.

“Aaaah...! Oww...!”

A sharp tug at her scalp forced her head upward. Laxia hurriedly caught Sheila’s wrist with one hand, but before she could pry those fingers loose, she was being hauled up. She planted one foot, then struggled to get the other beneath her, rising in an awkward, unsteady crouch.

“My... hair...! Let go...!”

Perhaps all that dust had dulled its color a little. That hardly made her orange hair blonde. Right now, though, the insulting nickname was less of a concern than Sheila using her hair as a handle. Laxia glared at her and opened her mouth to say more, but the baseball bat reached her chest first...!

“Whaa...?! Aaah...! Hey...!”

The bat turned her protest into a groan. Her ample breasts were being pressed down by a baseball bat...! Laxia instinctively leaned away, but Sheila followed, pushing forward. One step back, then another. Whenever she tried to plant her feet, the pressure against her chest drove her back before she could brace herself. Then she ran out of room. Her back met the corner. She had barely registered the cold metal against her when Sheila’s weight behind the bat pinned her there...!

“AAAAH...!”

Her luscious breasts were squashed beneath the bat as though they had nowhere left to go. She could neither lean back to escape the pressure nor fold forward to cradle her chest. She tried to twist aside, but the bat followed her movement, keeping her trapped against the corner. Laxia seized it with both hands. She strained to push it even slightly away from her aching breasts, but trying to draw a deep breath sent a sharp pain through her. The spot where she had been struck still ached, and the added pressure left her arms trembling.

“Nnngh...! Get this... off...!”

Her boots drummed frantically against the mat, but her upper body remained trapped. All her stamping and squirming did was leave her more breathless. Gritting her teeth, Laxia shoved at the bat again. Her arms would barely straighten. Trapped in the corner, her feet flailing uselessly beneath her...

“Nnnghhh...!!”

[BlackAkuma]

This would be a long, hard day for both of them. Sheila would make sure of that, no question.

She was already determined to pour on the pressure, giving the woman no moment to breathe as she dragged her by her orange strands, hauling her along the mat as she struggled. The woman fought every inch of the way, but nearly having your chest caved in tended to take the fight out of people. For the moment, the Wild One had it in the bag.

They went into the corner, with Sheila pressing the woman against the pads. Laxia was putting up a good fight, but she planted her feet, braced hard, and turned herself into a brick wall, one that wouldn’t be letting Laxia get past her anytime soon.

”Having problems?” She flashed her most devilish smirk and leaned in, applying pressure as she locked eyes with the struggling woman. ”Really hope this ain’t your A-Game princess, ‘cause if it is?” She jolted forward, digging the bat in even harder. ”Then is really gonna fucking suck for you, hear me?”

Fun as it would’ve been to torture this woman all day, she had to get this match moving - she wasn’t going to get a submission doing this, not that she would’ve wanted to. Instead of just holding her in place, Sheila abruptly lifted the bat, brought it behind her opponent’s head, caught her at the neck, and pulled them together.

She stepped back, one step after the other, then leaped up, drew her knees against Laxia’s battered chest, and let gravity take it from there as she tried to hammer the woman’s ribs with a baseball bat-assisted Codebreaker.

[Letta]

Laxia glared at Sheila, fury burning in her eyes. Cornered and barely able to breathe, she still had no intention of letting that arrogant smirk intimidate her. She gritted her teeth and tried to push the bat away. “Just... you wait...! Once I get this thing off me... Aaaaagh...!!” Her threat dissolved into a scream. Sheila leaned forward, driving her weight behind the bat and pressing it harder into Laxia’s breasts.

The corner pads were at her back, the solid bat across her front. With nowhere to retreat, Laxia shook her head and cried out. Her arms strained to push it away, but the pressure scarcely eased. Every attempt to draw breath pressed her chest against the unyielding wood, making the pain flare. Even her furious glare faltered, her eyes eventually squeezing shut against the pain.

When the bat finally lifted, a short groan escaped her. The pressure was gone, but her chest still throbbed. Before she could catch her breath, she felt solid wood against the back of her neck. Then came the pull. Her upper body tipped forward, forcing her to step toward Sheila to keep her balance. “Nngh... how... dare you...!” Being hauled around at Sheila’s whim only fueled her anger. She was trying to plant her feet and resist when Sheila suddenly left the mat.

“Wha...? Aaaaah...!!” Laxia’s eyes widened. Sheila drew both knees up against Laxia’s still-aching chest, and by the time Laxia realized what was coming, it was already too late. Sheila fell backward, pulling on the bat as she went. Caught behind Laxia’s neck, it dragged her upper body sharply forward. There was no time to brace herself or turn away from the impact.

With the bat pulling her down, Laxia’s chest slammed into Sheila’s waiting knees. The Codebreaker hammered her ribs and knocked the breath out of her. Laxia’s upper body recoiled, her arms flailing as she was thrown backward. Unable to recover her balance, she crashed onto the canvas, her back and shoulders hitting first. For a moment, she lay sprawled with her mouth open, unable to make a sound.

“Ghhh...!” A strained groan finally escaped as both hands went to her chest and ribs. Laxia rolled onto her side, clutching where she had been struck. She tried to curl in on herself, but every movement sent another jolt through her chest. The voice that had been snapping at Sheila moments ago had dwindled to broken gasps and groans. With her cheek close to the canvas, Laxia clenched her teeth. She wanted to get up immediately, but even drawing one full breath was a struggle.