Theresa Lyons [D] vs Anna Evans - Standard Match

[veritech892]

Vermin.

Theresa was surrounded by vermin.

She should have expected it. L.A.W. had a reputation for having some higher class talent - the kind of people who were actually worthy of the presence of such an esteemed athlete as her - but they were still few and far between. The cream of the crop, as it were, and while they were certain to rise to the top, they all had to start somewhere to rise from.

Still, when Theresa had set her sights on this place; had met a noble competitor before booking her first match, she had dared to dream that perhaps her lineage would be taken into account by the lowly peons that planned out the bookings. Alas, she had given undue credit to those who had not earned it, and was left disappointed as a result. Truly, she had no one to blame but herself.

And yet, the Lady Lyons vowed silently to make sure that her frustration wouldn't be her problem for long...

For the time being, Theresa poured her irritation into making certain that her appearance for this match would be immaculate. If she couldn't match her skills against someone who was worthy, she could at least demonstrate her superiority against someone who wasn't.

So she tended to her attire with a military dress level of precision: tying her red bow around her flowing pony tail so that it was perfectly symmetrical; pulling her long gloves up snugly to ensure that no lines or wrinkles marred their smooth surface; ensuring that her wrestling leotard hugged her superior form perfectly so that all the common rabble could gaze upon her and feel the shame of their inadequacy.

Theresa Lyons

And once she was satisfied with her work up-close, the noblewoman stood and walked to the locker room's mirrors, slowly turning as her sharp, cold blue eyes took herself in, searching for any imperfections as she awaited her cue to take to the ramp and begin her first match...

And her destruction of all those unworthy.

[Weonna]

Anna Evans

The door creaked open and in walked Anna Evans, her purple boots tapping lightly on the floor as she strolled in with a warm smile on her face. Her eyes lit up when they landed on Theresa, standing tall and proud in front of the mirror like royalty.

“Blimey…”

Anna breathed out, genuinely impressed.

“Ain’t you lookin’ sharp as a razor in a dress shop. Proper posh, you are.”

She stepped in further, trying not to come off cheeky for once, despite her naturally playful nature. There was still a bounce in her step, but her tone leaned toward friendly.

“I’m Anna—Anna Evans,”

she offered, extending her hand with a grin.

“Figured I’d come say hello proper, ya know? Nothin’ worse than goin’ toe to toe with someone and not even knowin’ their name first.”

Anna gave a small, respectful nod to the red bow, the gloves, the spotless presentation.

“Gotta say, I ain’t never seen someone look that prim for a wrestlin’ match. You’re like a walkin’ crown jewel, you are. Bet the crowd’s gonna love ya.”


She chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck as she added,

“Hope ya don’t mind me poppin’ in. I know some folks like their quiet before goin’ out. Just thought—since we’re both Brits—might be nice to have a word before we go crackin’ each other in the ribs.”

[veritech892]

Theresa winced.

Her nose wrinkled, her brow furrowed, the sound of a creaking door and the light tapping of boots on the floor were all that Theresa needed to know that her quiet before the match had been intruded upon. Why hadn't she brought her dear maid along? Her trusted confident had quite the knack for keeping the common rabble at bay when she didn't want to deal with them.

And Theresa NEVER wanted to deal with them.

She sat there for a moment, inspecting her glove with a stoic silence, pointedly ignoring Anna after her introduction. The woman's accent told Theresa all she needed to know... A countryman, perhaps, but not an equal.

And then, finally... she turned, looking down at the woman with a sharp gaze, slicing through the air like a knife.

"Charmed."

Her voice made it clear that she was anything but, the single word dripping with disdain to the woman before her. Her gaze snapped to the extended hand and then she rose her own to meet it... her index finger and thumb taking Anna's hand from above, squeezing tightly upon it and forcefully pushing it away in the same manner one would carefully pick up a rotten fruit and hold it over a garbage bin.

"Theresa Elizabeth St Leger Lyons," She said simply without acknowledging anything else the woman had said, her disapproving gaze snapping back up to Anna's face, her lips pursed for a moment before she continued. "Though I'm sure you already knew that... Given that you have invaded my privacy to gaze upon your better."

The more she spoke, the more her voice could only be described with one word: Posh. Dripping with the pretensions of someone whose name carried weight to it, at least in "polite" society. And with a somewhat haughty sigh, Theresa took a moment to adjust her bow one final time.

"At least someone taught you how to recognize one worthy of appreciation. I'd never deign to attend any sporting event looking..." She paused, her gaze rising and falling along Anna's outfit.

"Unpresentable."

[Weonna]

Anna blinked.

For a moment, she just stood there, mouth slightly open in a mix of disbelief and blinkin’ hell irritation. She’d walked in with a smile, a bit of respect, tryin’ to be civil for once, and what did she get in return? A handshake that felt more like gettin’ plucked off a bloody cheese platter.

The silence stretched only a beat before Anna let out a short breath of laughter—dry, amused, and just a bit cheeky.

“Right…”

she muttered under her breath, straightening up and tugging the hem of her top with a quick jerk.

“Theresa Elizabeth Saint… Ledge-uh… Lions?”

she repeated, deliberately fumbling the name just enough to make a point.

“Bit of a mouthful, innit? I’ll just call you Terry.”

Her smile returned, broader this time, but there was a definite glint in her eye—equal parts playful and unbothered.

“I came over to be friendly, yeah? Thought maybe we’d have a bit of a chinwag before we knock each other about out there. Didn’t expect to be treated like a bloody footman with dog muck on his boots.”

She shrugged, then glanced down at her wrestling outfit, hands brushing over it casually.

“Unpresentable, though? Now that’s just rude. I happen to like this look. It keeps the fans starin’, and I ain’t tryna look like I just stepped outta the Buckingham palace gift shop, no offense.”

Anna tilted her head, letting a few beats pass as she watched Theresa’s perfectly polished pose, then grinned again.

“Anyway, Terry…”

she leaned in slightly, still playful but pointed.

“You might be fancy with the name and the gloves and all that, but when the bell rings? That ring don’t give a toss about titles. You and me? We’re on the same mat, same rules.”

She backed away with a wink, tipping an invisible cap.

“Best of luck out there, yeah? And try not to scuff your boots when I toss ya.”

[veritech892]

Theresa, for her part, seemed to bask in the silence.

Her cold, blue eyes cut through it, stabbing into Anna as she stared back, her lips pressed together firmly, a hint of disgust present in them as though she'd just had the unpleasant experience of being confronted with a sack of particularly fragrant rubbish. And yet, as the other Briton muttered and laughed, the very edges of the noblewoman's eyes and lips curled up - slightly, ever so slightly, but unmistakably sadistic to any who noticed.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, dear." Theresa quipped, that hint of a smile seemed to spread slightly, cruelly, along her features, leaving something along the lines of an impression of a smirk pulling at her stiff upper lip. Though, each time the commoner said "Terry", her eye did give the faintest twitch of irritation.

"I should have known that the peasantry would struggle with such a refined name." The comment came quick and cold, no hint of hesitation or shame in her voice, as though Theresa were just saying how it was. "You attended the public schools, I assume, yes?" She continued, that cruel impression tinging her features more yet never quite breaking the beautiful appearance of her face.

She took her gaze from Anna for a moment to look back in the mirror, checking her hair, fiddling with it, making sure that the sides of her outfit were pressed flat against her sides, and then...

"Well if you didn't want to be treated that way, why would you ever come looking the part?" She asked, not deigning to grace Anna with her gaze this time. Then came the comment about Buckingham Palace. Theresa let it sit in the air for a moment as she ran her hand through her ponytail before turning to Anna just as the woman was leaving.

"Indeed we shall, my dear Anna Evans," She replied, finally letting a smirk fully cross her lips as she pulled her . "And there you shall see that not only do I dress better than you... I am better than you. Good day."

[Weonna]

Time for the match...

The arena lights dimmed—then erupted into a wash of purple strobes and a pounding bassline.

Anna Evans' theme music blared through the speakers with flair.

Spoiler

The crowd came alive the moment the first synth hit, and out stepped Anna onto the ramp, her swagger unmistakable, her grin wide as ever. She wore her signature purple gear, glimmering under the lights, and atop her nose sat a pair of oversized neon purple party shades, ridiculous and bold—just like her.

She struck a pose at the top of the ramp, soaking in the energy of the crowd. With one hand, she flicked her hair dramatically over her shoulder, and with the other, she pointed straight to the camera.

“Let’s have a bit of fun, yeah?!”

Strutting down the ramp, Anna moved with a dancer’s rhythm and a fighter’s confidence, slapping hands with fans as she passed. She paused at ringside, climbed the apron, and with a cheeky wink to the camera, slid through the ropes with style.

Once in the ring, Anna twirled once with flair before popping the collar of her jacket and sliding the shades down her nose just enough to peer over them, directly into the hard camera.

“This one’s for all the proper lads and lasses out there… and for Terry—wherever she’s hidin’ her silver spoon right now.”

The crowd roared with laughter and applause. Anna casually leaned against the ropes, removing her shades and handing them off to the ringside crew with a wink, ready to welcome her highborn opponent… with a beatdown.

[veritech892]

Hiding? Theresa?

Hardly...

Theresa's Entrance Music

On cue, just as Anna finished her statement, Theresa's theme kicked in over the speakers. The sinister opening chords of the power ballad blared, filling the arena as the lights turned red and circled around the ramp's entrance. Painting her as the villain? How droll... She wondered, for but a moment, if it was meant to make her perhaps feel bad? As if the opinions of those so insignificant could possibly hope to mold her regal mind.

Indeed, she would rather lean into it, be the villain that they so dearly wanted her to be and beat the truth that stood tantamount in her into their minds: this was the way things ought to be, and she was their better.

She smirked as she strode out onto the ramp, a folding, fabric fan clutched tight in one of her hands. As she stepped out, Theresa paused for a moment to gaze down at the crowd before her, from which a chorus of boos and jeers rose to meet her. She scoffed and waved her hand, unfurling her little fan to hold before her face and shield her eyes from the glare of the spotlights above. As she approached, she idly fanned herself, taking her time as she approached, making her way down to the ring and walking up the metal steps before sliding between the ropes.

Once inside, she strode to one of the corners, taking a step up onto the middle ropes of the turnbuckle and lifting one hand before unleashing a commanding shout upon the crowd.

"Kneel for your better, worms!"

Her voice boomed through the crowd, and while there were as many boos and jeers as she expected, she couldn't help but grin at the sparse cheers of those that knew their place... And raise an eyebrow at a not insignificant chorus of... barks?

Theresa turned away from the crowd, approaching Anna instead, sweeping her long, luscious red ponytail behind her head.

"Oh, I'm sorry, my dear Anna Evans." She said, self-satisfaction thick in her voice. "Were you hoping me a coward, perchance?"

[Weonna]

Anna leaned casually in her corner, rolling her neck with a stretch as Theresa made her grand, bloody royal entrance. The barking made her smirk.

“Cor, thinkin’ someone let the dogs out,”

she muttered to herself, clearly amused by the crowd’s reaction to the pompous spectacle.

But as Theresa approached and made her snide little comment, Anna adjusted her elbow pad and pushed herself off the turnbuckles. She sauntered forward, all cocky grin and cheeky attitude, not intimidated one bit by the aristocratic aura radiating off Lady Lyons.

“Coward?”

Anna scoffed, putting one hand on her hip and lifting the other up to gesture toward Theresa’s fan.

“Love, you pranced down that ramp like a Sunday bloomin’ stroll through Kensington Gardens, wavin’ that little doily like you’re airin’ out your ego.”

The crowd laughed, and Anna took another slow step closer, eyes narrowing with playful defiance.

“Y’ain’t scary, Terry. All dressed up like some highborn queen, but let’s be honest—you’re just a posh bird playin’ wrestler, and tonight…?”

Anna tilted her head and gave a wink.

“You’re gonna find out that no matter how much gold you got in the family estate, it won’t mean a bloody thing when your face meets this mat.”

She slapped the top turnbuckle with a smack for emphasis.

The ref moved to signal the bell.

Anna backed up to her corner, bouncing on the balls of her feet, a gleam in her eye.

The match was about to begin.

[veritech892]

Theresa couldn't help but grin as she listened to Anna speak, watched as she performed for an audience that was enthralled by the big words of a commoner that didn't know what she was getting herself into... With every statement, every reaction of the crowd, Theresa's grin only grew wider. This worm didn't know what was coming.

None of them did.

And Theresa was looking quite comfortable despite all the grand talk, standing in her corner one arms tucked neatly behind her back, the other retracting the fan and throwing it aside. An amused smile spread across her lips as she listened to her opponent-to-be speak her part.

"And you're going to discover, my dear , that a proper upbringing won't stop me from getting down and dirty."

Ding, ding, ding!

And there it was, the referee moved to signal the bell, and the bell tolled. It was a summons, for her at least, to the middle of the ring. Arms up, hands ready to grapple, Theresa moved in - coming to the center of the ring and dropping her center of balance as she spread her legs. The redheaded noblewoman grinned over at the low-class lout across from her, bringing her hands up in a very obvious move:

She was giving Anna an invitation - a confident invite for a test of strength. Her grin grew sinister as she moved in closer and closer, eager to break the confidence of her foe and prove how difficult a battle this would be.

"Care to put your money where your mouth is, hmm?"

[Weonna]

Anna’s purple neon shades stayed snug on her face as the bell rang, her hips swaying cheekily from side to side as she stepped away from her corner. The crowd cheered as she moved with confidence, her steps almost a dance, light on her feet and full of energy.

“Ohhh, look at you!”

she chuckled, her accent dripping with sass as she saw Theresa square up and raise her arms.

“All prim ‘n’ proper~"

Still grinning, Anna removed her shades with exaggerated flair, blowing a kiss to the crowd before tucking them into the corner post. She began circling Theresa, as she sized up her opponent—though she didn’t exactly look like she was taking her seriously.

"Alright, you posh twat,”

she said playfully,

“let’s see if all that airs and graces come with a pair o’ arms, yeah?"

She lunged in, locking up with Theresa in a classic collar-and-elbow tie-up. But the second her hands gripped Theresa’s and their bodies pressed chest-to-chest, Anna’s eyes widened. Her playful grin faltered for just a split second as she tried to shift her weight and push forward.

“Bloody hell—!”

she hissed under her breath, gritting her teeth as she strained in the lock-up,

“Didn’t know I was signin’ up for a test o’ strength with a bloody wardrobe!”

The weight difference hit her like a wall. Anna dug her boots into the mat, trying to gain leverage, but Theresa’s superior size were already taking over. Anna’s eyes darted, trying to adjust—but she was being pushed back.

And that’s when it hit her.

“…You ain’t skippin’ no pudding, are ya?”

The crowd laughed as Anna realized her mistake, her boots beginning to skid slightly across the canvas as the test of strength started to tip in Theresa’s favor…