Laxia von Roswell vs. Sheila Morgan - Lightning in a Bottle

[BlackAkuma]

Match Type: No Disqualification
Victory Conditions: Pinfall, submission, or KO. Falls Count Anywhere.

***

Sheila Morgan stood in the gorilla position for the first time in just over two months, getting her last minute stretches in before her next match. She hadn't even been back in the country for all that long, having just returned from a little sabbatical back in Australia, before they slotted her in a new match up against some chick who’d come in while she was out. Not that she minded it, really. After spending weeks taking it easy and traveling and checking up on old friends, it would be good to get her hands dirty again. Get in the thick of it.

But the craziest things about it all? She’d fucking missed Japan.

About a year ago, she wouldn’t have believed that was even possible. She’d grown up in the bush, in the stick, in the dirt, and Tokyo was about the furthest thing from that you could imagine. It was clean and proper, it was clean streets and uncluttered sidewalks. It was a garbage man that actually showed up when he was supposed to and a trip down the road where you didn't have to worry too much about hitting a wild animal. It wasn’t her, and acclimating had been…difficult.

But she did. Somehow. And now that she was finally back, back in the shininess and cleanliness and the glamour of it all, she had to admit, she’d kind of missed it. Maybe it was a sign she was getting soft, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

She was damn sure she knew how to feel about what was coming next, though.

came blaring out over the speakers and Sheila came storming out of the curtains a moment later, making her return to a round of raucous applause. While she’d never been a fan favorite exactly, she’d gained a good reputation with hardcore wrestling, and creating destruction wherever she went. She wasn’t boring, which was what the fans ultimately cared about, and that wasn’t about to change tonight.

After slapping a few hands, Sheila slid in under the bottom rope, popped up to her feet, dashed across the ring and hopped up on the middle turnbuckle, where she could get a good view of the arena, really appreciate the view. She breathed deep, threw her mane back, and let out a roar cry as the adrenaline flow through her, her body already entering fight mode.

Now, she just needed an opponent, and she wouldn’t have to wait too long for one…

Sheila Morgan, back in action

[Letta]

Laxia von Roswell had never felt more driven. Since joining LAW, she had tasted both victory and defeat, yet neither had dulled her resolve. Every match only made her goal clearer and her ambition stronger. She was still a newcomer, but more voices were beginning to call her name from the stands, and little by little, she could feel her presence in the league growing. As if to answer that ambition, LAW had offered her a far more dangerous stage.

..No Disqualification..
..Falls Count Anywhere..

It was not her first experience with such rules, so Laxia showed neither surprise nor fear when she received the match card. She simply studied it a little longer than usual.

“Sheila Morgan... ‘The Wild One.’”

The first page of the dossier her butler had prepared featured a photograph of her opponent. Sheila’s blonde hair spilled freely around her face in untamed waves, the complete opposite of Laxia’s meticulously braided hair and neatly secured ribbon. Her rugged ring gear presented an equally striking contrast. Styled after furs and animal hides, it looked as though it had been fashioned straight from the wilderness. Her exposed midriff and limbs made the compact strength of her athletic frame impossible to overlook. Although slightly shorter and lighter than Laxia, nothing about Sheila appeared small. Her blue eyes seemed to hold little caution or hesitation, only a restless hunger for the fight ahead.

“...I see.”

Laxia quietly closed the dossier. Nothing in the file suggested that Sheila cared for deceit or underhanded tricks. To her, No Disqualification appeared less like an excuse to cheat in secret and more like an invitation to cast aside every restraint in full view of the crowd. These rules undoubtedly favored her. Laxia had never been one to break the rules, and conventional professional wrestling was where she felt most at home. A No Disqualification match was not her territory. Had LAW recognized her potential and decided to test it? Or had they cast a refined noblewoman before the Colosseum’s lion, expecting her destruction to entertain the crowd? Either way, the answer would be revealed in the ring. If they expected her to play the part of helpless prey, she would simply prove them wrong.

* * *

Standing in the gorilla position, Laxia slowly flexed her stiff fingers. The cheers for Sheila carried through the curtain and thick walls, their vibrations traveling through the floor and into her body.

“I’m ready.”

The arena lights dimmed.

The delicate violin opening swept through the arena as golden pyrotechnics erupted on either side of the stage. Laxia emerged between them with her chin raised and an elegant smile upon her lips.

Laxia

Her reception was warm, though not quite as thunderous as the one Sheila had received. Laxia proceeded down the ramp, lightly touching the hands offered by the fans before slipping smoothly between the ropes. She climbed onto the second turnbuckle, placed one hand behind her back, and offered the audience a graceful bow. Their response grew louder as she turned and descended into the ring, her boots landing almost soundlessly upon the canvas. Only then did she face the woman waiting in the opposite corner.

The dossier had failed to capture her presence. Beneath her rugged attire, Sheila’s athletic frame seemed coiled with energy, ready to explode into motion without warning. Firm lines of muscle stood out across her shoulders, stomach, and thighs, while her loose blonde hair stirred around her shoulders with every movement. There was nothing ornate or restrained about her appearance. The threat she presented was raw, honest, and impossible to overlook. Their blue eyes met across the ring. The referee completed the customary inspection, though the ritual felt almost comical before a No Disqualification match.

Even with a brutal No Disqualification match only moments away, Laxia made no move to raise her guard. Instead, she stepped out of her corner, approached Sheila, and extended her right hand in a courteous greeting. Her smile remained composed, but an unmistakable competitive spark shone within her sapphire eyes.

“I am Laxia. It is a pleasure to meet you. May the better woman win.”

[BlackAkuma]

Sheila had done her homework on Laxia, too. And by ‘homework’, that meant she had looked the woman up on Wikipedia and got bored halfway through the article.

What she had bothered to read told a story, even if it wasn’t one she cared much about. Some rich bitch from a family that had some controversy surrounding it. Upper crust, nobility, that sort of thing - it was all way above Sheila’s pay grade. She’d gotten enough from those sorts when she first started in LAW, and she didn’t much care about revisiting those days.

She was either some girl with too much money and time on her hands, or she was the real deal. Sheila would be putting that to the test, right about…now.

She leaned up against the turnbuckle and canted her head to the side as the violin started up, a stark contrast to the grungy metal that had just been blaring a moment ago. Sheila folded her arms and looked on as her opponent made her way down to the ring, daintily slapping hands on the way, before she slid in and gave the audience a too-polite bow.

Prim. Proper. Pristine. She definitely gave off a royal vibe, Sheila could feel that. Way too rich for her tastes, with an outfit that looked like it cost ten times more than the ratty and worn-out gift she was wearing. The white and gold was almost too much to look at, like it was hurting her eyes.

But she wasn’t so blinded that she could ignore the woman underneath all that finery. Decent enough looking body, athletic, strong. Taller than Sheila with maybe a little more weight to throw around, but not enough to make the Wild One fret. She certainly looked like she had the tools, but that wouldn’t count for shit if she didn't know how to use them.

”Hm?”

Sheila was knocked out of her thoughts as her opponent came marching across the ring, and she stepped out to meet her with tensed arms, expecting an attack, prepard to launch into it…but instead, all she got was an extended hand. For a second, Sheila froze and looked down at the gesture, as if Laxia had just handed her an alien artefact.

For a few awkwards seconds, Sheila simply stood there, motionless, until she reached out accepted the handshake…but that wasn’t all she did.

”Don’t you worry, goldie.” A wolfish smile came across her face as she pulled Laxia and pressed their foreheads together. ”I’m gonna.”

With that, Sheila winked, pushed off, and stepped back into her corner, where she leaned against the pads and waited for the bell to ring.

[Letta]

As Laxia approached, Sheila stepped forward to meet her with her arms tense and her shoulders set, carrying herself as though an attack might come at any second. The wild intensity radiating from her would have made many hesitate. Laxia did not. She continued forward and offered her hand. Sheila stopped. For a moment, she merely stared at the waiting hand, her expression caught somewhere between confusion and disbelief. Seconds passed without any answer, leaving Laxia’s hand suspended in the narrow space between them.

Laxia understood why. A formal handshake seemed almost absurd before a No Disqualification match, but the gesture was not a sign of innocence. It was a choice. Even here, with every rule about to fall away, she had no intention of abandoning who she was before the fighting had begun. So Laxia waited.

Of course, patience did not mean carelessness. Her extended hand remained steady, but her weight stayed balanced over the balls of her feet, ready to withdraw at the first sign of an attack. At last, Sheila accepted the handshake. Some of the tension left Laxia’s shoulders. There was no sudden blow and no attempt to trap her hand. For one brief moment, it seemed the gesture would end exactly as she had intended.

Then Sheila pulled. The distance between them vanished in an instant. Laxia was drawn forward until their foreheads pressed together, bringing Sheila’s blue eyes so close that there was nowhere else to look. They seemed to pierce straight through her composed expression and search for whatever might be hiding beneath it. Sheila spoke from inches away, close enough for Laxia to feel the warmth of her breath. The confidence in her voice sent a cold ripple down Laxia’s spine. Yet Laxia did not look away. Her initial surprise hardened into resolve, sapphire eyes answering Sheila’s stare with quiet defiance. If the Wild One expected to find fear at such a distance, she would have to look harder.

Sheila gave her a wink that felt playful and threatening in equal measure before pushing away. Laxia took a single step back, her boots settling firmly against the canvas. She kept her eyes fixed on Sheila as they returned to their respective corners, her guard firmly in place. The referee looked between them and gave the signal.

DING! DING! DING!

Laxia stepped out of her corner as soon as the bell rang, though she made no attempt to rush her opponent. Her pace was light and measured, her sapphire eyes never leaving Sheila as she approached the center of the ring. As the space between them narrowed, Laxia began to circle. She watched Sheila’s shoulders, her hips, and the placement of her feet, searching for the smallest hint of how the Wild One intended to begin.

Charging in at full speed against an unfamiliar opponent would have been reckless. The dossier had outlined Sheila’s strengths, habits, and favored attacks, but those were only facts written on paper. It could name her weapons. It could not teach Laxia when or how she would use them.

Yet a quiet instinct told Laxia that the woman standing before her could not be understood through photographs and reports alone. If she truly wanted to learn what kind of fighter Sheila Morgan was, she would have to feel the answer for herself.

She slowed near the center of the ring and raised both hands, fingers spread and elbows bent. With a slight tilt of her head, she offered Sheila a silent invitation to meet her in a traditional collar and elbow lockup.

[BlackAkuma]

Well, well, well, look what we have here. Little Miss Badass.

Sheila had been hoping to fish something of a reaction out of Laxia with that introduction. Mind games, get under her skin, maybe make her freak out a little. She’d never been one for that Fair Play sort of thing, anyway, so she might as well use it as an opportunity to fuck with her opponent before the bell even rang. Funny thing was, though, that it seemed to just bounce off of Laxia, no real effect. The woman just hardened up without a word and stared back. Nice Poker face.

She was chuckling all the way back to her corner. Laxia knew how to play tough, at the least, she’d give her that. But she got the feeling that the woman wasn’t cut out for this type of match. She didn’t strike her as the ‘hardcore’ type. Probably had never even seen her own blood outside of a papercut.

That’d be changing soon.

The bell rang soon enough, and Sheila came stalking out of the corner. She could already see those bright eyes on Laxia, looking her up and down, trying to pick her apart. A thinker, this one was, trying to look for weaknesses right out of the gate.

For her part, Sheila didn’t give much away. The two circled the ring, and she did so at a calm, leisurely pace, simply walking around the perimeter like it was just a stroll in the park. She kept watch on Laxia from the corner of her eyes, never losing her and never losing the small, knowing smirk on her face. ”Taking this way too serious, goldie.” She added a little skip on her step, threatening to outpace Laxia for a moment, before she resumed her usual pace.

As if to prove her point, Laxia paused their circling and brought her arms up, beckoning her on for the collar and elbow. Sheila paused and mid-step, licked her lips, and finally dropped down into a proper wrestling stance. Arms up, knees bent, she moved forward bit by bit, closing in on her foe with wiggling fingers. A little closer, a little closer, almost…

The moment she was in range, Sheila juked forward, then jerked back, brought her leg up, and tried to tag her with a stiff kick aimed at the gut, hoping to take her off guard.

[Letta]

Laxia approached with care, reading every shift of Sheila’s shoulders and every step she took. Sheila, however, circled with her at an unhurried pace, as though Laxia’s caution were not even worth acknowledging. It irritated Laxia more than she cared to admit. By refusing to take her seriously, Sheila was turning Laxia’s careful study into a performance, making her disciplined stance appear almost foolish by comparison. Part of Laxia wanted to rush forward and wipe that knowing smirk from her face. Suspicion held her back. Sheila’s casual behavior might be calculated, another trap meant to lure her into making the first mistake.

“We shall see how long that confidence lasts...”

Laxia’s answer carried more irritation than she intended to reveal. When Sheila suddenly quickened her pace, Laxia’s body tightened at once. She lowered her stance and drew her elbows in, ready to defend against whatever might follow. Yet no attack came. Sheila merely added a playful skip to her step before returning to the same relaxed pace as before. The little trick had already served its purpose. Laxia had reacted, and Sheila had seen how. She was not merely testing Laxia’s patience. It felt as though Sheila were testing the pride and polished composure Laxia wore like armor, searching for a crack that might reveal the vulnerability underneath. That thought unsettled Laxia far more than the open taunt.

At least Sheila appeared willing to accept the invitation to lock up. The Wild One finally lowered herself into a proper wrestling stance. Her knees bent and her hands rose as she crept closer, fingers flexing in anticipation. Laxia held her ground with her own hands raised, every trace of annoyance sealed behind a mask of concentration. A little closer. The tension between them mounted with every step. The instant Sheila came within reach, she shot forward. Laxia reacted at once, leaning in and extending her arms to secure the expected collar and elbow grip.

That was precisely what Sheila had been waiting for.

Instead of meeting Laxia’s hands, Sheila snapped backward and drove her boot into Laxia’s exposed abdomen. The impact forced the air from her lungs.

“GUHH...!”

Laxia folded forward, both hands clutching her stomach as a strained groan escaped her lips. With a single sharp change in rhythm, the Wild One had found the opening Laxia had been so determined not to give her.

[BlackAkuma]

It was pretty telling that Laxia hadn't charged in while Sheila was casually strolling around the ring. She was begging for it. An easy target. If the roles had been switched, the Wild One would’ve come charging at her without a second thought, not wasting a moment. She’d never cared much for the whole ‘feeling out process’ thing. Once the bell rang, you started fighting, not dancing. But then, that was sort of the point, wasn’t it?

Sheila had this woman pegged, right out of the gate. She was a Thinker, and that was the thing about Thinkers: sometimes, they thought too much, and they let the best opportunities slip right out of their hands. She’d seen it happen so many times, and this was just another chapter.

Still, there was a moment when Sheila thought she was pressing her luck with the little opening feint, where she feared Laxia might’ve caught on to what she was trying to do, but nope - she fell for it, and fell hard. Her foot sunk deep into the woman’s stomach and knocked all the air out of her, folding her like a lawn chair. It was easy, almost too easy, and a small, niggling part of Sheila worried that she might’ve been going too hard on Laxia, here. It wasn’t like the woman had done anything personal to her, she could play a little nice.

…nah, fuck it. It was more fun this way.

”Oldest trick in the book!” Sheila laughed and charged forward as Laxia reeled, closing the distance with her in a heartbeat, trying to capitalize before she could hope to recoup. She reached up, grabbed the woman’s short hairs with one hand, and began to unload with the other, throwing a barrage of quick elbows in Laxia’s face to drive her back, back, back, all the way to the turnbuckle if possible.

Goldie apparently hadn't figured out what sort of match this was, yet. Sheila’d teach her.

[Letta]

The kick left Laxia doubled over, but the pain in her stomach was not the only thing burning inside her. She was furious with herself. It had been such an obvious trick. Under normal circumstances, Laxia would have seen through something so simple without a second thought. Yet the woman standing before her was different. Laxia had searched for hidden meaning behind every movement, only to overlook the simple trick right in front of her. She had thought too much, built her own trap, and stepped directly into it. The frustration showed plainly across her face as she clenched her teeth and tried to lift her head. She never had the chance. Sheila seized a fistful of Laxia’s orange hair near the roots and yanked hard, sending a sharp pain across her scalp.

“AAAGH...!”

Before Laxia could gather herself, the first elbow crashed into her face.

“GAAH...!!”

Another followed. Then another. Sheila rained down elbows without mercy, keeping one hand tangled in Laxia’s hair while hammering at her face with the other. Laxia reached up and tried to pry Sheila’s hand loose, but every attempt left her head exposed to another strike. She could protect her face or free her hair. She could not do both. With no other choice, Laxia abandoned her attempt to break Sheila’s grip and raised both arms to protect her head. The next elbow crashed against her forearms, sending a sharp ache through both arms.

Another blow followed, then another. Still shaken by the first strike and forced to shelter behind her aching arms, Laxia had no chance to gather her thoughts. Unable to set her feet against the relentless assault, she was driven backward one step at a time, her boots scraping against the canvas. One step. Then another. And another. With Sheila’s hand still tangled in her hair, each elbow stole more ground from Laxia before she could understand where she was being driven.

Then her retreat ended with a sudden jolt. Something cold and unyielding pressed into the small of Laxia’s back, its hard edge biting through the thin fabric of her gear. Her breath caught, and surprise broke through her composure as she realized what it was. “Hngh...!?” The steel turnbuckle. Sheila had driven her all the way into the corner. With her hair still trapped in Sheila’s fist, the cold steel at her back, and a relentless barrage in front of her, Laxia had nowhere left to retreat.

[BlackAkuma]

Blow after blow after blow, Sheila kept driving Laxia back, step after step, laying into her with a wild assault. To the woman’s credit, she could take a hit better than Sheila would’ve guessed - honestly, she half expected her legs to give out before they could even get halfway to the corner, but she hung in there, even if she was too preoccupied to get her hair free.

After a few good shots, she finally seemed to realize the value of a good defense and brought her arms up, for what little good it did her. Sheila was determined to keep up the pressure, and those raised arms just made her more driven, perfectly happy to crack this woman’s shell if that was what she needed to do.

”Get. The. Fuck. Back!” She punctuated each shot with a word as she continued to push forward, until Laxia suddenly found herself with nowhere to go, only unforgiving pads to back up into. It was only then that Sheila took a quick breath, catching her breath from the burst as she let go of her opponent’s hair.

”Trouble keeping up, goldie?” She snickered and lowered her head, as her wild mane spilled along her face. ”Gotta work on that. Just getting started, you and me.”

Sheila reached down and grasped Laxia’s wrist, securing a tight grip with both hands. Never one to stay in one place for too long, she suddenly stepped back, twisted around, pulled the blue blood out of the corner, and twisted around, bring her opponent along for the ride. She pushed her opponent hard on the back and sent her running towards the opposite side of the ring, launching her with an Irish Whip to the far corner.

She had no intention of leaving her alone for too long, either. A second after Sheila released Laxia, she bolt after her, following in the woman’s shadow. As soon as she hit the pads on the opposite side of the ring, the Wild One would be there, ready to leap up and ram her into her chest with a flying knee.

[Letta]

It was only when her back met the firm turnbuckle pads that Laxia finally realized just how badly she had been cornered. Until then, Shelia’s relentless assault had barely given her a chance to collect herself…!

Her face and forearms still tingled from the barrage of blows, and all Laxia had managed to do was raise her arms and desperately weather the incoming strikes. Mounting a counterattack had been out of the question. She had barely even been given the chance to regain her footing.

Step by step, she had been forced backward beneath Shelia’s pressure, offering little resistance as the wild woman drove her across the ring. Being made to retreat as though she were obediently following Shelia’s command was humiliating enough. Also the taunt that followed only poured fuel onto Laxia’s wounded pride…!

At last, Shelia released her hair and paused to catch her breath. “Haaah.... hah...” Still breathing heavily, Laxia raised her head. She pursed her lips and blew upward at the orange strands clinging to her forehead, sending a few loose locks fluttering away from her face. Beneath them, her blue eyes burned with renewed defiance as she glared straight back at Shelia. “As if I would...”

She never got the chance to finish. “...!” As though Shelia had no intention of granting her even that much respite, two rough hands immediately seized Laxia by the wrists. Before she could brace herself, Shelia yanked her forward. “Ah...!” A moment later, Laxia was sent hurtling toward the opposite corner…!

The force of the whip sent her racing across the ring, her feet scrambling to keep beneath her. With the turnbuckles rapidly approaching, Laxia barely managed to twist herself around at the last possible moment.

*THUD!*

“AAGH...!”

Her back crashed hard into the corner. The impact jolted through her frame, making her ample chest heave sharply as a short cry escaped her lips. For a fleeting instant, her eyes squeezed shut. But the moment they opened again...

“What..!?”

Shelia was already airborne right in front of her..! One knee was raised high, hurtling straight toward Laxia’s chest with devastating force. Laxia’s eyes widened. This time, she had no intention of simply taking it. One hand shot out and seized the nearby rope. Laxia immediately pulled against it, wrenching her body sharply out of the corner...!