Standard 10 Count Match
Winning Condition: Pinfall, Submission, KO, DQs, Countout
Special Condition: After a successful pinfall or submission, a 10 count will be administered to the defeated wrestler. If they get back up to their feet before the count is up, the match continues.
LAW definitely loved its stipulation…though Hana didn’t mind. This match felt like a mix of boxing and regular wrestling with the 10 count stipulation, and being a fan of all things combat sports, she was curious about this stipulation.
Her foe interested her quite a bit as well. She has been a long term indie wrestler who signed with LAW…and saw limited success in the company. After a multitude of failures both in the company and on the indie circuit, she reinvented herself, coming back as a Samurai! Hana could relate to her rival tonight. Her “demon” like persona wasn’t born from out of nowhere…but as rude or as brutal and as different as it was from her outside of the ring…when it came to wrestling, this was her truest form, her going all out.
As final moments before Hana’s entrance ticked away, she wondered, was Evelyn the same? Spoiler
Spoiler
The Ogre would come out to her entrance theme, raising her barbed wire baseball bat into the air as she walked out to jeers and boos from the crowd. Under her mask, Hana was grinning ear to ear...but believed that the reaction for her could be a bit louder:
"CAN'T FUCKING HEAR YOU, ASSHOLES!!!"
"BOOOOOOO!!!" came jeering from the more Japanese side who understood that they were being insulted
"YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK!", came from the more English speaking tourists.
Under her mask, Hana was quietly chuckling, before she swung her chain around, bringing it down at the barricade that separate her from the crowd:
"That's more like it!!!"
With that, Hana would make her way down to the ring, walking proudly among the sea of negativity surrounding her, before finally entering the ring. The greenette would slowly take her mask, before taking it off, revealing the painted, black, white and green face beneath! Spoiler
Hana's face pulled into a devilish grin, as she stuck her tongue out, trying to fully live up to her demonic persona, as her theme quiet down. Hana would press her back to the ropes, still holding her weapons:
"Ms. Hoshiki", the ref would enquire: "The weapons, please. This is not a hardcore match"
"Fuck off", came the reply, with the ref miffed at how the greenette behaved herself. It was strange, the refgirl thought. Just a few hours ago, before the show, Hana would help her collect a stack of papers she dropped earlier. She also helped her with her bags to the staff locker room...she didn't know how different the woman could be inside the ring before she saw her...
A freaking DEMON? WHY--. Demon monikers in wrestling are meant to signify a sociopath!! I know… First hand… Many times!! … Her head took a spin. She removed herself from the locker-rooms to a less-used staff restroom. Her gear was ready. She wore it to the sink, flicked on the hot-water tap and listened to it. Then, from a stern face, she melted into blues.
Maybe if we pretend to be sick, we can re-roll the odds and get someone less bloodthirsty. Why can’t I just get a cute idol that wants to do her best and flies high, huh?? Or a normal veteran competitor that can teach me a thing or two! I don't need broken nose number fifty-three. And don't get me started on chair shots! I need to feel the imprint of a proper suplex burn its technique into my back gosh dammit.
Steam was building from the basin, rising slowly until she felt her hands burn. She pulled away quickly. “Ow-!” Then after shaking her hand out, she switched to cold, and got her act together. She exited the bathroom, still with her unresolved thoughts, choosing to co-exist with the anxiety and push through. Ahead, a slightly taller woman in a large black overcoat appeared with a stylish hat with a name she couldn’t remember. It was out of place. And the woman was looking directly at her as she passed by. “Ah, Daishouri.”
Daishouri stopped short. It felt like she was bridging two different worlds between her own turmoiled one and the calm wrist watch-wearing, glove-donning and-- was that pocky? Maybe, but that wasn’t relevant. She needed to find the right response. Hello? Hi? I'm busy? “What do you want?” (Fuck me). Was that any way to talk to someone that looks like she has a tommy gun under her coat?? Maisilyn grinned sincerely, almost like she knew her, and they were good friends somehow. “Just a wish of good luck. Not that a true samurai would need it.”
A true Samurai? Ohmgosh. She felt warmer, her throat squeezing as two immediate responses 'Thank you so much' and 'Ohh, I haven't proven myself yet' tried to escape at once, cancelling out, and stunlocking. She wasn’t quite ready for praise so early into her run. Or, rather, at all. “Are you flirting with me??” Though she wasn’t sure of that whatsoever. Just the first kernel that popped in her mind to say, to avoid deliberating on a careful response, wasting their time in the process. “Not at all.” Maisilyn’s head dipped, giving a comforting smile that felt a little hypnotic. She seemed to pause for a beat, so Daishouri did too, feeling pins and needles on her neck. Then, suddenly, Maisilyn batted her lashes a moment, saying, “But for you? I can change that.” Before reaching into her coat pocket, drawing a business card and handing it over. A black design with a golden text. It had weight. The texture was patterned and ornate. Madison Hotel. Open Bottle. “I’ll be going. Visit me sometime.” Said Maisilyn, tipping her hat and taking a leave.
Daishouri was tongue-tied. The idea didn’t sound bad at all, in-fact, having seen the product of Madison Gambit, the hotel looked stunning! And who knows, maybe a night out with an affable stranger is what she needs. It gave her something to look forward to, tidying over her thoughts of doubt to try and decipher what that 'but for you?' meant. Then there was the 'Good luck'.Ugh! She better not be taking pity on me!
Then she pressed on, pouting and eager to charge ahead with the frustration.
A cartoon version of herself manifested on screen. Blonde, black scarf, expressing a cat face and a peace sign as her avatar animated back and forth in a rocking loop. Underneath, the name: DAISHOURI! And lifting the crowd into a medium-sized cheer. Bigger than usual. Smaller than Turning Point, unfortunately. Maybe that Hotel visit would really be worth something. Like a Warren Buffet dinner.
She slapped her cheeks. FOCUS!
MORE IMPORTANTLY! Let's kick some demon ass!
The Daishouri emerged onto the stage through a poof and crackle of smoke. She rolled through it, landing with one-knee on the rampart, one down. A hand on her scabbard. Another to shade her eyes, surveying the crowd. “Huuup!” Then she popped back to her feet, then through a heel-kick, fast and snappy. Her form was perfect. Practiced so-so-so many times. She loved being able to show it.
So she did a second. She stomped the foot down, then spun around, adding a high heel kick that came around, then reset next to her standing foot. THE Daishouri, can do something right! Then she walked, strode more-so. Hand on-hilt. Her head high to march towards the ring. The very centre that breaks and makes all those who came before her. To get another chance was a weekly blessing.
Don’t wave this time. PROJECT: THEEEEEE Daishouri. Samurai and slayer of all ring-evils by righteous discipline. Orrrr--Something like that. Whatever gave the message: this is better than you of three years ago, would satisfy. And one of the things she missed was respecting the ring.
So she bowed briefly at ringside, then went up the steps, casually waving as she walked the apron, then stepped between the middle and bottom rope, weaving through. The feeling was electric. Even at this point of her run, walking the ropes. The crowd’s vibration still felt real, in any amount. Goosebumps. Sometimes her eyes would swell trying to justify where she deserved this chance, despite wanting it so badly. Every night's a chance to answer it.
As Shakespeare put it, ‘All the world’s a stage’ -- And something she remembered in a video game added its own spin afterward: so act the hell out of it.
She strut for the corner, stepped up to the second turnbuckle and leaned so her knees were against the top rope. Then she started… “Daaaaiii--” She formed a pointing index finger, then suddenly thrust it into the air! “--shouri!!” Sticking up a sideways peace sign by her cheek, grinning, then hopping off the turnbuckle, smacking down to the mat on both soles and ready to go. The crowd rose just a tad. Still not as huge as Gambit. But soon enough!
“Hup.” She readied her stance by giving a narrow profile to them, pointing the shoulder, head-turned and silently undoing her sword belt to set aside, carefully grabbed by the approaching referee. She gave them a strong gaze, one stern and aware of the trouble ahead. SO she hoped. Anything less and she might pass-out from her jacked heart-rate. “So, demon lady.” Why do I need to make things harder for myself?… “I hope you’re ready.”
Last edited by Monsy on Mon Feb 17, 2025 1:34 am, edited 1 time in total.
Hana stood with a serious expression on her face as the lights in the arena and the titantron shift to Daishouri's entrance, as an upbeat J-pop song played across the venue. The blonde western samurai rolled onto the entrance ramp, getting up to her feet with an impressive kick before proudly making her way down to the ring.
Finally, inside the ring, she did one more pose to hype up the crowd, before her theme quiet down...and she addressed Hana.
The greenette smirked. She could already see how nervous Evelyn was prior to the match, despite the fact that she tried to maintain a brave face. Suddenly, she started to walk towards the bloned:
"Hey...HEY!"
With her bat in hand, something the referee was very much objecting too.
Hana would lift the bat up...and press it with it's flat end at the samurai's chest:
"Are you?" Hana would say with a smirk, as the ref would be quickly onto Hana:
"That's it. Bat. Out. Of. The. Ring."
Hana would give it to the ref, as she would turn around to throw it outside the ring. The ref gave Hana a perfect opportunity to jump at Evelyn...but instead, a sympathetic part of Hana would resurface, as she encourage her rival with 2 simple words:
"Fight well..."
The words were quite enough that no one in audience would hear them, as the Ogre made her way back to her corner.
One last check by the referee...and after Daishouri made it clear that she was ready...the match would officially begin!
She first looked at the weapon while keeping still. A bat pressed on her chest might as well be a sword, a spear, a halberd — the tip of a flying arrow about to pierce. If she were lucky, it would only discolour the fresh a bit. Surely, she’s been through this enough to be comfortable with the risk? “Yy—yes, I am.” Daishouri nodded, sitting on defcon two with a jittery knee that wanted to launch into their chin before Hana had the chance to wind-up that bat. One cue. Just one cue, then she'd go for it. But not before.
In the next moment, her eyes grew from surprise. The bat was discarded — thrown, thankfully. Only for that to take the referee’s eyes off them, leaving an opening. Try me. Daishouri bladed her stance, folded up her arms about half way before getting the dose of reassurance and subsequent withdraw
Huhhhhh—
Fight. Well?
So we’re not going to fight before the bell like cats seeing their reflections?
After a precious moment or two to process, she relaxed her hands, let her posture straighten and feet come together. A tickle of sweat was felt on her temple when she recalibrated her perspective. Perhaps she’s jumping the gun here. Some are more genuine performer than cold psychopath, surely. Not every demon moniker holds the same rules of chaos, either. She can work with that, if only she was sure it was… that.
“...You as well. . Good luck.”
Daishouri tended to her corner where the referee checked her feet, hands and asked if she was ready. She offered a firm nod. Afterwards, the referee walked off, gesturing a pointed finger at the timekeeper and starting the match!
DING DING DING.
The call to action.
Daishouri left her corner in a long arc towards her right, starting to circle after a short stomping jump to get the momentum going. She knew she was shorter, lighter and didn’t have the reach or strength to contend head-on easily — which narrowed her options at the moment. Her eyes went steely, trying to bury the worry under four layers of focus. For both her nerves and internal logic, she settled on taking a step towards the middle, breaking the circling if it transpired, then attacked.
“Hup!” Daishouri sounded with her mouth, swung her leg and tried to hammer Hana’s outer thigh. Then in either failure or success, she planted the foot, turned and pointed her ankle, twisted her shoulders and followed through with a spinning back-kick aimed to bury itself deep in Hana’s lower abdomen!
Hana smirked at her opponent's words. Despite the discouraging career her rival had, this was promising to be a good match. Sure, a different time, she wouldn't have minded to jump the bell for a beat down against her rival...but for now, she was fine to let things play out...
Besides, jumping the bell all the time would get a big predictable if she did it every time.
The ref would take her time checking Hana, looking at her with a look that mixed curiosity and annoyance, with Hana replying with a stuck out tongue and a smile at the ref. Pouting at Hana, but otherwise satisfied, the ref would step to the middle of the ring and call for the bell!
DING DING DING!
The two women slowly closed the way to each other, Daishouri slowly closing the distance to Hana, with the greenette deciding to play defensively for now, interested to see the first attack of her foe's offense...
Suddenly, the blonde would rush forward, swinging her leg at Hana's thigh! The heavyweight grunted, trying to move back...only for Evelyn trying to swiftly turn and twist, trying to drive a back-kick at Hana's stomach!
Stepping just a half-step away, however, helped the greenette not only avoid the strike, but to leave her opponent completely open, as she grabbed her kicking leg! From there Hana tried to pull the blonde towards herself to drive her own foot into Daishouri's chest!
The moment she felt nothing but air, her mental alarm bells screamed.
Her expression taken by brief surprise, then her teeth clenched the next moment, seeing Hana's foot blitz her in return with nowhere to go.
!SMACK!
The foot ran her right through. Her upper-torso snapped towards the round like a racing clock hand as her feet went counter-clockwise into the air. "OOF!!" Then she hit the ground with a ring-singing crash that a small reaction from the crowd, recognizing Dai's hard fall and Hana's brute strength.
Daishouri hissed, crossing her arms over her chest, shaking her head twice to bite back the cobwebs. Her next move was quite simple. She used the fact Hana was now closer to take a second attempt with a kick. She thrust straight for Hana's belly, the sternum, which hoped to stall any follow-up, break the grip on her leg -- then backroll for extra distance if she was so lucky.
Hana grew confident with her successful early strike, and from having her rival's leg in her custody, and as such, would try to pull her rival back up to her feet to attack her once more...only for Hana's aggressiveness to prove to be her undoing, as Evelyn would thrust her free leg upwards as she was pulled up, pushing the greenette away!
"OOUF!" Hana reacted as Daishouri's leg was thrust into her belly, stepping back, and covering her stomach, letting the blonde get more distance away from her!
Growling, Hana would try to aggressively press forward with a balled fist, trying for a swift jab, rushing her attack before the blonde could capitalize on the distance she created between the two!
Hana charged ahead faster than Daishouri expected. The kick only got a step back, disregarding the OOUF that initially made her judge a greater stun. When Daishouri got to her feet, Hana’s fist already flew towards her face for an audible -!SMACK!-
“Ngh!” Her head turned, her neck felt loose, and her head swelled for a flicker. Her footing wobbled, stepped over and then staggered a second step. She bit the inside of her cheek to combat the numbing, make peace with it so she could refocus on the Ogre, albeit slightly clumsily.
Then without hesitation, in an attempt to rebut Hana’s last clever tactic, she stepped towards Hana with an arm folded across her chest then WHIPPED it at Hana’s chest. A head-on CHOP to hopefully swing the initiative back to her court.
With Hana quickly approaching Daishouri to strike at her, the blonde would prove just slightly quicker than the monstrous greenette, ramming her arm across her chest!
The action made Hana wince at first, as she felt the stinging sensation across her chest, and a bit of air forced to escape from her body...before she smirked:
"Oh...you are in for it now..." the greenette would say, winding up her arm...before trying to repay the favor to Daishouri by ramming her hand across her chest with as powerful Knife Edge Chop as she could muster!
A reverberating strike like the crack of the whip! The force tossed her balance and sent her heel knocking into her other foot when she attempted recovery. Her torso leaned back. But she turned herself -- then got her foot underneath by pulling it back, making a lucky step that saved from a fall. She did another step-over, effectively leaning back and stumbling in a tiny circle, with arms hung low and her eyes. "k-keghh..." Then she gagged. Her chest burned like molten cinders. Her breath turned horse and it felt close to a blockage as she coughed, then wheezed, then gasped.
With a pant and a bit of spittle on her lower lip, she looked up, then spouted. "Good." Another pant, her expression becoming stronger, more resolute and concrete in her recovery. Control of herself. "Give me everything."
Then she came back. After the chop settled and the crowd's voice roused for a short note, Daishouri was stepping to the Ogre again, arm across her chest and...
THWACK! Would be the sound of her next chop. Harder than the one before, but with precision to aim for the exact same spot as before.
