Bengal vs. Betsy Lincoln - Red, White, and Blaze

[BlackAkuma]

Match Type: Knockout Match
Victory Conditions: Victory can only be achieved by knocking out your opponent.

***

One more match. Just one more.

Betsy came out from the curtain and made her way down to the ring, as her

blared out of over the loudspeaker. The audience reacted to her, but not overwhelmingly - pretty much the sort of standard fanfare that any hot blonde would get from a crowd filled with horny teenagers.

She did her best to keep up appearances and hold her head up high as she made her way down to the ring, even enough to slap hands with the occasional fan as she descended, but she would be lying if she said her heart was in it. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but hers - in truth, her LAW career had been nothing short of a bust up until now. She’d come in hot with her husband, thinking they would set the world on fire - mixed sex tag teams were a rare thing in the company, even rarer for them to be a husband and wife, so they had that going for them. Japan was supposed to be a new start for them as a couple, someplace where they could grow and build.

Instead, it had been a year of trainwrecks. After Betsy’s first, humiliating loss, she’d suffered one after the other, to the point where management rarely booked her unless they needed someone to fill in for a no-show. That meant less money, less exposure, less everything. It strained their living situation, which was worsened in recent weeks when Troy had to travel back to the States for his aunt’s funeral.

Now, Betsy found herself coming out to another match, contemplating the point of it all as she entered the ring and gave the crowd a quick pump of her fists. She supposed she was glad they’d given her a ‘Knockout’ match, which appealed to her history as a boxer and her skills, but there was only so much excitement she could muster for even that.

It was a bummer, and the longer this continued, the more she thought about just packing it up, calling it quits, and returning home to recharge her batteries. LAW wasn’t for everyone, right? It was okay to know when to tap out.

Betsy kept contemplating as her music began to die out, as she leaned against the corner and stared at the lights. She’d find her focus in a minute, but for now she was fine with just spacing out a little and relieving her stress.

Salute the Flag

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

Bengal's frame of mind going into this match couldn't have been more different from that of her opponent's. The Blaze Tiger was in a decidedly positive mood, fresh off one win and looking to add to her streak. She'd been ecstatic when her agent informed her that the contest was scheduled with a knockout stipulation, allowing her to take advantage of her considerable striking skills. "She won't last a minute against me," she had exclaimed to the other woman, clenching her hands into fists at her side as she spoke. The agent had tried to warn her that her that this "Betsy" was a seasoned striker as well - a former boxer, even - but since when had Bengal ever listened to the doubters? Flush with confidence, she hadn't even bothered to look up footage of her opponent's previous matches.

Now, on the night of the match, her cockiness had yet to diminish. Bengal stood backstage in gorilla position, tapping her booted foot impatiently, waiting for Betsy's entrance to finish so she could reveal herself. As soon as the guitar riffs of "American Woman" faded, the Tiger strode out onto the entrance ramp, accompanied by her own entrance music. Many of the fans began to boo, both for Bengal's choice of theme, and her history of cheating. It was true that the harsh, dissonant tones of Meshuggah's "Combustion" would never be as much of a crowd pleaser as Lenny Kravitz's rock favorite, but that was why the Tiger had chosen it in the first place. She enjoyed setting the audience on edge, and hopefully her opponent along with them. As for the cheating - well, rules were meant to be broken. Bengal stalked down the ramp, stopping occasionally to fix an unlucky member of the audience with her frosty, blue-eyed gaze.

The ring announcer's voice boomed out, cutting over the boos of the fans and the crackle of Bengal's pyrotechnics. "Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is a knockout match! Making her way to the ring...standing at a height of five feet, seven inches, and weighing in at one hundred and forty pounds...from Kolkata, India...THE BLAZE TIGER! BENGAL!"

Spoiler

The Indian woman vaulted into the ring, showcasing her agility in another attempt to demoralize her opponent. The ring announcer continued: "And her opponent...standing at a height of five feet, four inches, and weighting in at one hundred and twenty pounds...from Las Vegas, Nevada...she is the ALL-AMERICAN GIRL! BETSY! LINCOLN!" More scattered applause, though it was far better than the reaction Bengal had received.

As the Tiger took up her position in the corner, she got her first good look at the woman she'd be fighting that night. She was a few inches shorter than Bengal, but well-built, with toned arms, a busty chest, and MMA-style gloves on her large hands. She had pale skin and honey-colored hair that she'd tied back with a bandana. If Bengal hadn't already guessed that she was an American from her entrance theme, her star-spangled outfit would have been a dead giveaway.

The Tiger curled her upper lip, equal parts amused and dismayed by the other woman's over-the-top style. "What am I even looking at?" she laughed, pointing one of her long nails derisively at Betsy's red, white and blue singlet. "You look like you got dressed by a tornado that hit a Wal-Mart." She leaned back against the ropes casually, stretching her coiled legs as she kept speaking. "I hope you fight better than you color-coordinate, Yankee Doodle. Otherwise, this is gonna be over real quick." She raised her arms, assuming a striking stance as she tensed for the opening bell.

[BlackAkuma]

Huh. Whoever her opponent was, she had a decent taste in music. Betsy would hand her that much.

She bobbed her head along as the music heralded her opponent, and she looked on as her opponent made her way down to the ring, getting no small amount of heat along the way. ‘Blaze, the Bengal Tiger’ - Betsy didn’t know too much about Bengal or what tigers the place did or did not have, but the woman was definitely living up to the cat them. Claws, stripes, ears, the whole nine yards. Definitely one of those wrestlers who leaned into the gimmick, though hopefully not too much. Betsy was seriously not in the mood for cat puns or getting licked.

The woman made her way into the ring soon enough, with the announcer giving them both a proper introduction, hyping up the crowd to appropriate levels. She settled in and rolled her neck from side to side, bounced on her heels, getting loose. She was more than ready to go when the announcer finished, but it seemed like Blaze wanted to exchange words, first.

A little trashtalk? Okay, she could play with that. ”And you look like a reject from a furry convention.” She brought her fists up, nice and tight, and slid into an orthodox boxing stance. Bouncing on the balls of her feet, eyes focused and forward, locked. If she was going to do this, she might as well do it right. ”You ready to fight, or do you need to cough up a hairball, first?”

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

Furry jokes - Bengal had heard a million of them throughout her wrestling career. To her, they were as mundane as they were baffling. Was it really that hard to believe that she simply liked tigers? The mental image of her coughing up a hairball was amusing though, she had to admit. The Indian woman laughed again, baring her ivory teeth in a fashion reminiscent of the Cheshire Cat. "Oh, I've been ready, trailer trash. But I promise, you're not ready for me," she purred, swaying lightly back and forth as she studied Betsy's movements. "It doesn't matter, anyway. By the time I'm done with you, that outfit will be red all over!"

DING-DING-DING! The opening bell rang out, just as the Tiger finished her threat. She started toward the middle of the ring, rolling her shoulders as she circled her opponent. Bengal decided to open with a low kick, targeting the American's knee just above her star-studded shin guard. Her agent had told her that Betsy was lightning fast. But no one's fast with an injured knee, Bengal thought grimly, as she drove her foot forward. If she succeeded here, her opponent could be left at a disadvantage for the rest of the match!

[BlackAkuma]

‘Trailer-trash’. Heh. It’d been a while since she’d had that one thrown at her, probably because it wasn’t exactly a popular phrase on this side of the pawn. Just one more thing made her nostalgic for a homecoming, which she didn't need.

There went the bell; no more time for trash talk. Not knowing too much about Blaze - aside from her being a royal bitch - Betsy was formulating opinions as she went along. Judging by the stance she took, she would say that Blaze knew what she was doing. Proper foot placement, kept moving, didn’t stay too long on the center line, all of the basic stuff. She was a trained striker. But was she good?

Only one way to find out.

Betsy moved in fast, only for Blaze to lash out when she got in range, forcing her to skip back. Smart move, trying to target her legs. If she was looking to catch her, though, she’d need to be a lot faster.

”Slow!” Betsy juked left, then right, then dove in and tried to close the distance with a couple of quick jabs aimed at Blaze’s face, trying to push her into a retreat so she could pour the pressure on.

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

Bengal wasn't quite sure what had happened. One moment, Betsy was right in front of her, her spiky blonde hair bobbing up and down as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. Then the Tiger blinked, and her opponent had dodged to the left, faster than her eyes could follow. Bengal's kick whiffed past on empty hair, throwing her off balance. She stumbled, and the American was suddenly on her right, as if their fight was a film that had started skipping frames. The agent's description hadn't done it justice; Betsy's speed bordered on the supernatural. Bengal barely even saw the red-gloved fist that caught her on the chin, snapping her head to the side. Before she could register the first blow, a second jab landed just below her eye, sending her staggering back.

She couldn't let things go on like this, or she'd soon be overwhelmed. Bengal braced herself on her back foot, regaining her balance. As Betsy surged toward her, looking to keep up the pressure, the Tiger twisted her hips and swung her folded arm like a scythe, aiming an elbow strike at the American's jaw! It was a wicked-looking move - but would it be enough to catch her nimble opponent off-guard?

[BlackAkuma]

Left, right, left, right, right, left, left, right, left.

Betsy was falling into her rhythm as she bobbed and weaved, flowing from side to side, making sure she never stayed in the same place for longer than a second. She would throw in the occasional offbeat step, going in a direction that defied the pattern, to make sure the Blaze never had a chance to get comfortable. She wanted the woman second-guessing her every move, never feeling comfortable with her position.

Betsy was here, then there, then here again, her feet scarcely touching the canvas. Feeling bold, she took a step back, then launched herself in just as Blaze was sending out a stiff elbow, one that she raised her arm to absorb.

Strong blow. Even though Betsy took it on the guard, it was still enough to make her stumble on her way in and mess up her footing. She kept going, however, knowing she couldn't afford to mess up when she was this close to Blaze.

Betsy lashed out, throwing another jab…or starting to. She abandoned it halfway, turning it into a feint, only for her to drop down and throw a right hook at her opponent’s gut, trying to drive it home deep.

[BlackAkuma]

Left, right, left, right, right, left, left, right, left.

Betsy was falling into her rhythm as she bobbed and weaved, flowing from side to side, making sure she never stayed in the same place for longer than a second. She would throw in the occasional offbeat step, going in a direction that defied the pattern, to make sure the Blaze never had a chance to get comfortable. She wanted the woman second-guessing her every move, never feeling comfortable with her position.

Betsy was here, then there, then here again, her feet scarcely touching the canvas. Feeling bold, she took a step back, then launched herself in just as Blaze was sending out a stiff elbow, one that she raised her arm to absorb.

Strong blow. Even though Betsy took it on the guard, it was still enough to make her stumble on her way in and mess up her footing. She kept going, however, knowing she couldn't afford to mess up when she was this close to Blaze.

Betsy lashed out, throwing another jab…or starting to. She abandoned it halfway, turning it into a feint, only for her to drop down and throw a right hook at her opponent’s gut, trying to drive it home deep.

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

Bengal's elbow strike glanced off Betsy's guard, sending a shiver through the Tiger's arm. While the blow hadn't hit its intended mark, it did force the All-American to slow her barrage, if only for a moment. Bengal took advantage of the brief respite, adjusting her stance to better guard her face from the jabs. Unfortunately for her, that wasn't Betsy's target. Instead, the star-spangled brawler feinted high, then pumped a vicious right hook into Bengal's stomach. The Indian woman gaped like a dying fish, doubling over as the air was driven from her body.

It wasn't just Betsy's speed, Bengal reflected, as a string of spittle trickled from her slack-jawed mouth. It was also her opponent's snakelike ability to change direction mid-strike that made her so dangerous. Maybe she could equalize things if she got the American girl off her feet and onto the mat. The hook had been devastating, but it had brought Betsy in close, leaving her vulnerable to a follow-up.

Bengal straightened up as quickly as she could, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in her gut. She sidestepped her opponent, catching and trapping Betsy's right arm as she stepped over the shorter woman's leg. Then she shoved the other woman back with all the force she could muster, trying to take the All-American down with an STO! If the throw worked, Betsy would be left on her back, where her striking game hopefully wouldn't be so formidable. Then the Tiger could take all the time she needed to dismantle her.

[BlackAkuma]

Oh, that was a good one. Betsy knew when her punches scored paydirt, and that was a perfect strike, sinking deep into her opponent’s body, grinding her organs up like a fine stew. The way she reacted was a treat, too, as she lurched over and retched from the hit. Not having a good time, she was determined to make it worse.

”More where that came from.”

She stepped in to deliver it, too, only for her foe to move in on her, recovering faster than she expected. The woman came in close, grappled with her, and brought her down to the canvas with a quick STO, immediately putting her on the canvas. Exactly where she didn’t want to be.

”Shit!” Sensing danger, Betsy tried to roll away and get to her feet before Bengal could capitalize, not wanting to find herself beneath the bigger woman.