L.A.W. - League of Anime Wrestling

Mic Chick vs. Angelina Tarrant
Match Type: Standard Match
Rules: The winner must pin, submit, or knock out her opponent.

The lights dimmed in the LAW arena and suddenly a wailing guitar solo played for about ten seconds before puff of pyro went off. After a moment, Joan Jett's I Love Rock & Roll starts to play and Mic Chick in her black, red, and gold outfit, smirking out at the crowd who got loud for her before she began clapping to her theme song.

Spoiler

When the song began, Mic Chick wasted no time in singing along with her hot, raspy vocals into a microphone as she walked down the ramp, moving to slap hands with some of the fans who were excited to see her, especially due to her career outside of the ring as a popular singer. Taking a few moments to pose with a crowd of girls who were all filming her entrance, then took another moment to pose for a picture with another fan, kissing her cheek.

When Mic got to the steel steps, she led the crowd in a chorus, waving her arm and commanding them rather effectively to move to the beat, and when the chorus was over, she stepped into the ring and the music cut off. She then held up the microphone, basking in the cheers of the crowd and looking around, amused.

She lowered the microphone to her mouth and then said, "Helloooooooooo LAW! How's everyone doing tonight?" The crowd boomed their approval to Chick, making her bob her head in a few nods. "Alright, alright. Loving this energy so far... and you damn well better have energy now! Because your girl, the beautiful, the daring, the talented, the firecracker in a monsoon, etcetera etcetera etcetera... Mic Chick! That's me and I'm back and I'm ready to have a grand ol' time tonight and I want to really make sure that this is a fun night... for all of you."

Mic held out her hand with a smile as the crowd yelled loudly. "And fortunately for all of you... I'm pretty sure my opponent also loves to have fun. Angelina Tarrant. I can't say I know a ton about her. Honestly, I did a Google search. Then I got bored during the Google search before I found anything substantial. But she's a looker, right!? And if the worst part of this match is that I have to fight a hot little redhead like that... Well that's practically like any Tuesday for me. But it's also a damn good Tuesday! And I want to spread that Tuesday to each and every one of you, and I'll even SWAK it and Seal it With A Kiss."

Once more, the crowd cheered as Mic went to the ropes closest to the entrance and leaned over it, grinning widely. "So Angie... Let's get out here and let's tear it up. Because I'm pretty damn antsy for some good ol' fashioned consensual brawling and show stealing! Now lemme hear you all screeeeeeam!" exclaimed Mic Chick before tossing the microphone over to the nearest referee and backing up towards her corner of the ring as the crowd chanted her name loudly. It was just about showtime for one of LAW's biggest show-women, and she was eager to get it started.

Slow instrumental quaked to life as Angelina’s theme roused a small band of budding noise. A spotlight dashed to catch the skater slip onto stage, to kickflip and pose, scream, shout or dance - but found nothing. She didn’t show herself on stage, and for those lingering seconds, the crowd seemed to die as her music entered its humbled phase. But to those in a particular section within the stadium’s lower bowl, they got to see her up close. They noticed the prickly red devil-horns, that red denim skirt, the black garter belt, cropped black t-shirt, the dog choker, and the black oversized hoodie that clung to her wrists. There she was, standing on her board, sipping a soda and nodding along to her own tune. When a spotlight flicked on her figure, she tossed her drink over-shoulder and pointed to the corners of her ear-to-ear-grin. “Sup-sup.”

Spoiler

Spoiler

Another band of budding noise welcomed the first sighting, then she pushed forward on the short straight-away, nearing a set of stairs. Her tail slammed, and the board popped off the ground. The trucks sizzled against the rail, and she rode it down, leaning forward with her arms out as she zipped closer to the lower bowl’s edge. Once again, she crushed the tail and floated, flicking her front foot off diagonally to kickflip the board as she went over the edge and into the floor-level crowd. Her back-foot caught the bolts, and she evened out, slamming both ends on the pathway between the sections. The shock forced a squat, and her gloved hand came down to give the ground a nice slap as she popped up straight and continued to ride.

The crowd popped for her little trick, and she raised both birds.
Speed carried her on until the barricade, then her back truck slid out, and the wheels scratched like she dragged over heel over gravel, power-sliding until her stomach absorbed the top metal bar of the barricade. She lurched over, sighing as both hands gripped. Her feet almost went over, but she settled back on her board, and looked to the ring for the first time. This was the farthest she’d gotten to popstars, rockstars or any form of celebrity. Music ones that is. Popular ones that rolled off the mind like a well-oiled body. Her tongue clicked, and she jumped, swinging both legs over and vaulting the barricade, now making a mad-dash up the steps. When her foot took the second step; she sprung off, her other foot kissed the apron, and she grabbed the top rope, pulled back and jumped on the rebound, vaulting into the ring. She gave it one more stomp of both feet, then stopped, slowly looking left to right and over-shoulder.

“Huh… This is usually the part of the dream where security bum-rushes my shit. I’am still unmolested so I guess this is real. Am really about to punch a rockstar in the teeth..”

After she finished murmuring, she slung back near her corner, hooking her arms over the rope, pointing to herself as she crossed a leg over. “Your one order of good ol’ fashioned consensual brawling has arrived! Oh! Sick Joan Jett by the way. It’s like she never became irrelevant.”

Mic Chick nodded her approval at Angelina's entrance, shrugging and applauding along with the crowd, grinning all the way. She bobbed her head to the music, seemingly impressed with her opponent and waited for her to enter the stage. Then, she laughed when Tarrant spoke to her, winking at her. "Baby, you're about to get your hands on me. You might still be dreaming," joked Mic, laughing before stepping to the center of the ring.

"But yeah, Joan Jett is timeless. And maybe if you're lucky, this beatdown I'm about to deliver to you might be too," said the singer playfully, knowing immediately that she could make these type of jokes good-naturedly without her opponent getting upset. She was a skater girl, she seemed chill. Angelina was exactly the type of person she could get on with. "Been a minute since I skated though, but maybe you can teach me a few moves some time!" suggested Mic with a big grin. It had been a while since she went skating. Her busy life took time away from that and she fell out. She couldn't help but feel a little nostalgia watching the redhead making her way in on one.

Her head dipped when they replied at first. It made her smile, “I dunno, girl, it seems like a lotta girls get their hands on you. Tuesday is what I think you called it, right?” Her tongue clicked as she threw the wink back with an added finger-gun for spice. “Pew-bitch.”

When they took centre-ring, Angelina bounced her back off the ropes to push off straight, and take a few steps forward to join her new rival. They were a little taller, bigger too, it seemed. But she didn’t mind. There wasn’t much air for malevolence either. Angelina saw enough back-alley baddies to know just when someone had that itch. It wasn’t them. Rather, she found something a little like herself. “Sure. I can, maybe. A.T can teach you whatever you want, provided you can hang in the ring first. I’m not about sticking around bitches who can sing but can’t dance, you get what am sayin’?”

She punched her open palm, then slid the fist out forward, the other hand cropped on the inside of her elbow. The referee was close by, ready to start.“So here’s to it. I always wanted a fist-bump from a real rockstar.”

Mic Chick laughed, smiling at Angelina, and ran a hand through her hair, nodding a few times and giving her a fist bump without hesitation, just as the bell rang for the start of the match. "Well you just got one, baby. You want to dance, you just pick the song and I'll be there to steal all that spotlight, hot stuff," she answered, winking at her redheaded opponent.

"But I better have a good dance partner too, if you catch my drift," added Mic, sticking out her tongue, showing off a stud piercing briefly before stepping forward and grabbing hold of Tarrant's arm. She would then step under it, but not to apply an arm wring. Instead, Chick stepped out, holding an arm out and then yanked Angelina towards her, getting ready to grab her and dip her down, pressing her body close. "I think you'll do," remarked the blonde before pulling Angelina back up and giving her a pat on the chest before high stepping backwards a few paces, getting ready for the real start of the match.

After their knuckles touched, all five fingers wagged, and her arm pulled back, then fell. She inhaled sharply through the nose after, caught between a laugh and snicker, her chin pulled in to hold it. The wink was just more gasoline to it. She was hungry now, smirking. Her eyes spelled the whole thing; intent, focused but the right amount of playful as one squinted and the other opened wider. “Yeah?”

She nodded, weaving all ten fingers together, bridging her hands out to give them a crack and sticking out her tongue in rebuttal. Although there was no piercing. She didn’t expect them to dart, and her arm broke rank from the finger-bridge, stretched out and she looked. Hesitated. Shit! She thought and then found her feet scampering to catch up as she stumbled forward, whipped around and arched back. Her shoulders stiffened and her nape crawled. A tinge of pink blemished in her cheeks as one eye closed, pre-prepped to spank the canvas, instead, she came eye-to-eye with her rocker-rival. She laughed dryly, choking on what to quip back, “Y-Yeah.”

This ring was now like an open roof on some skyscraper that went beyond the clouds. The audience became nothing, their noise the howling wind. The barricades became the cliff, where nothing lies beyond now. There was only them and this ridiculously fun moment she was having. She can breathe, and damn, well, this was good air. “Pheeew.” She whistled, now standing tall, blinking rapidly to digest the rollercoaster she just felt. It was amazing. “You’re a real lady charmer, Micster. Buuuuuuuut I'm still gonna kick-punch your friggin' face. Like, right now. So get god damn ready!”

Her arms went full wingspan and stretched a little behind her. “Mm-yeah…” One folded behind her back, the other, gloved, came forward, open-palm as she lurched a bit, now inching on her boots, closer and closer before one of her legs whipped up and tried to toe-bash their belly with this very frontal flick-motioned kick.

"Oh, I would hope you'd kick-punch my face, because I'm about to mess it up, which is going to be really upsetting to me because I got a cute one," answered Mic Chick as she stuck her studded tongue out, ready to fight now. She couldn't help but be amused at how much Angelina seemed like she liked the little dance maneuver she had done with her, but Mic looked nonplussed about it, like she mentioned, just another Tuesday for her.

Still, she wanted to see how this girl could go in the ring, and she watched her hand go up, preparing for a test of strength of some sort with bemusement. However, as she went to approach that, she suddenly felt a boot crash into her stomach, and she groaned out loud, holding her ailing belly. She shook her head once, wincing from the impact of it that had winded her briefly. "That was... cheap," remarked Chick, wrinkling her nose.

Fortunately, they were early on in this match, and if that's how Angelina wanted to kick things off, Mic had absolutely no problem returning it in kind. Abruptly, Mic spun around and performed a back spin kick directly towards Tarrant's stomach in retaliation, seeing how the girl would like a kick of her own.

A little ploy to kick things off, the inching and subtle lies she plotted down. It wasn’t much cunning as it was instinct. An arm kept in reserve just felt right. Right at the second when she came within range, her plan wasn’t decided until the limb flicked on its own. Her leg came back down, now positioned forward, choosing not to follow up, and instead stick her tongue out as they did before. A hand came up and made a pinching motion on the wet muscle, grinning as it flicked away, as though she plucked something. “Nah, girl, that was pure fuckin’ genius!”

Then their kick answered. It buried deep in her gut, and she folded over the limb. Her breath shotgunned with a yelp, “GUH!” The force sent her reeling on her heels until a shoulder banged against the ropes and an arm wrapped around. She was lurching over, her stomach felt empty, and her lungs were dry. She coughed a few times, then took a free hand to comb back the hair that vined on her face. An eye was closed, and her white teeth shone, clenched, and she hissed against them. The smile restored, and she stood upright, walking with the ropes and giving a few nods. “OK, ok… Girl got legs. You wanna throw some more legs, huh?” She unwrapped her arm and took a few short steps forward, “You wanna throw some fuckin’ legs, yah? I can throw legs, I can throw real fuckin’ good legs, here, catch!”

Once in range, she threw the same leg as before, trying to spear her toes into their thigh with a roundhouse.

Mic Chick's well-placed kick seemed to catch Angelina off guard as it buried into her tight stomach. The rocker would lean over onto her knees turning to survey her handiwork with a grin. "Oh, I got legs for day, but I know you noticed that," suggestively answered Mic with a wink, giving a slap to her own hip as she watched the redhead who seemed to be getting more fired up.

Starting to move and circle Tarrant, eventually she struck out, hitting one of Chick's thighs with a strong kick, the impact echoing into the arena! "Ah!" hissed Mic Chick, spinning and grabbing onto her thigh as she hopped some distance away. Gritting her teeth, she grimaced before looking back at Angelina, kicking her leg out a couple times.

"Keep that up, hot stuff, and I might just have to rip that pretty leg of yours off," teased Mic, before moving forward abruptly and kicking her legs out in a front dropkick straight to Angelina's knees, hoping to take her opponent straight to the ground with the impact.

She’s touched they called out her perving. They seemed to feed it too. What’s not a rockstar without some spice, and what’s a rebel without a nasty bite? The kick’s echo made even herself wince. She whistled, self-satisfied, “Wooo, shit, that hurt?” Both eyebrows bounced when they commented. It was a heart-jumper, that perhaps, maybe, just maybe, they meant it. She wasn’t sure of them to know. She’d just have to keep kicking this hornet’s nest.

Their movement was all too sudden. Angelina’s world shrank, and she looked down just in time to see their feet barge into her kneecaps. Her feet slid, but she came forward. Her legs stuck together like glue, and not even her hands saved her. She landed chin-first into the canvas, and her hands slapped on the flanks. It was dizzying. Like someone rubbed mud in her eyes and spun her around. She put her elbows down and arched her upper half off the mat, but looked as though she was lost, searching around and moaning under her breath. Her legs stayed still, throbbing and muscleless.