A Hero's harder lesson - K.R.R. vs The Yellow Force

[Zeva]

Standar Match
Victory conditions pin, submission or KO.

Loss after loss surely hurts the little cosplayer's moral, it was obvious by the serious expression of the girl and, instead of running as was habitual when the music played, she walked slowly to the ring, she was sure was taking her time. Amari was reflecting on her possibilities for the match, worried about the things she had heard about Karla Reinhard, if half of that was true she was in problems.

But the audience cheered for the Yellow Force anyway, for them she was more that a win/loss ratio, her attitude and charisma was what they were looking for. Those encouragements didn't make her regain her usual hothead, but at least they motivated her enough to regain her desire to give a good show.

Amari put a smile while running the last stretch towards the ring, entering by sliding on the canvas and, once standing, adopting a combat pose. She remembered the purpose for which she joined Star Force, be stronger day by day, so at some point she could face the sadistic fighters who, according to her, damaged the image and prestige of LAW. Winning or losing here just meant gaining more experience... That sounded good, at least in theory.

Spoiler

[Monsy]

So come and stoic, her opponents prance. Like observing little insects, she beamed from above. Fancy herself a predator that looms and awaited the prey to step within the trap; the ring. Inside, there was nowhere to run, no one to help and certainly, no mercy to be had.

Perhaps for herself, she was an entertainer, marked when the lights culled and spotlights danced; the ominous thumps of her music began its stride. She emerged through the climax and twirled upon the stage. The white fluff of her long coat brushed against her thighs and parted at the front to unveil a bodysuit of black leather that glimmered in the spotlights. Scarlet shades hid her eyes and the lipstick enchanted her smirk as she strode down the rampway like heaven’s gates had parted, and the eyes of angels that wept as her arms outstretched both ways.

She reached the steps and stopped, tipped down her glasses and peered at her opponent. Ire ignited in her eyes, the typical malice and focus as scaled the steps in ebony heels before she threw her leg between the middle and top rope. The referee assisted by sitting on it, which afterward, stood ready to accept her coat as she allowed it to slither off her arms and folded over one, then thrust into their chest. Lastly, the shades were folded and handed off; with one hand gliding through scarlet locks, she spoke with a frown.

“You may introduce yourself if you wish, Hundchen, but don’t expect me to remember it.”

Spoiler

[Zeva]

"My name doesn't matter! You just need to know that my fight is justice! I-I'm the Y-Yellow Force!" Thinking those lines before the matches was one thing, but saying them out loud in front of the crowd and that serious looking rival was another, so her voice cracked by doubts in the last couple of words, she blushed a little.

Anyway Amari managed to adopt her wrestling position, an exaggerated stance that resembled that of a Karateka, she was with an open palm near the pit of her stomach, with the other hand, she formed a fist leaded to her opponent in front of her and her legs spread, perhaps a little more than necessary. Her face showed determination, although if that was part of her act, or a real feeling, was hard to determine.

The initial bell would ring at any moment, the girl in the tight yellow suit kept her stance, with her eyes, she would follow every footstep of her rival and try to defend herself from the attacks that came to her. She expected to start the fight with a spectacular counterattack, although playing like this against an opponent who wasn't tired was risky at best.

[Monsy]

A brow cocked, lips pursed in tandem with rummaging thoughts. Tension so carelessly severed in mere seconds of her arrival. An uncertainty whether this collision was a mere jest or an honest attempt that blundered beyond belief. Justice, such a broad and unexplained motive. That was probably the most amusing. So as she pinched her nose, unsure to laugh from bemusement or scowl in distaste. A smile rose from these ashes, and now her hand lowered and postured against a hip.

"How lovely. A hero... who speaks in stammers and puppyish squeaks. Perhaps I can teach you something about confidence, but I rather beat them into you. So, why don’t we consider this your lesson. A very hard lesson.”

Her fists punched her other open palm like a piston, twisted back and forth until the leather squelched. She hopped foot-to-foot like a boxer’s dance and craned her neck left-to-right. Once the bell inaugurated their festivity, she strode forth in a brisk jog. She wanted the ring’s centre. And once there, she advanced on Amari in slow shuffles; one leg slid back and one arm folded on her back.
Her other outstretched towards her opponent, fingers wound into a fist then splayed, where she wagged each digit like small waves. There wasn't much movement once they came within arm's reach, just as Karla's stance straightened once more, she beckoned them with her finger.

"Come on, show me some confidence! Attack, Hundchen!"

[Zeva]

"Th-The only lesson here is that rudeness and villainy do-doesn't pay!" Amari's voice continued to break, but unlike what Karla seemed to think it was not fear or doubt, but excitement, the girl had been looking for wrestlers who fit the "villain" profile in order to put on a good show and whether Karla wanted it or not, her harsh words and actitude made her classify, at least in Amari's book.

The bell rang and her opponent seemed determined to strike first, the changes of pace in the redheaded movements disoriented Amari, who froze and couldn't react other than by closing her eyes and covering her face when she saw Karla practically on the verge of hit her, but the impact that she expected didn't come, instead the only thing that hit her where the provocations of the rude woman.

"Don't belittle my thirst for justice!" The girl in yellow hesitated for a few seconds, but she couldn't not do something, so she would try to hit her opponent on the side with a couple medium kicks and, if nothing prevented her, she would finish the combo with a karate kick towards her opponent's belly, using the other leg.

[Monsy]

“Funny that; in just one day, a Reinhardt will make more than you’ll ever see in your pathetic life.”

Brandished a grin when the two readied themselves for the thirst salvo. Albeit an annoying demeanour, she couldn’t sheath her response. Money and power were her forte; it deserved to be flexed, admired and respected worldwide. This ring provided the foil and proved so humble to offer her new dog a chance to bite its master. The first kick landed clean. Bone and muscle barraged her hardened sides to force her upper half to lurch sideways, squeezed the air from her lungs that burst into a hiss and one eye closed to bear the after-sting.

The second strike came in succession like twin guns. Her arm, timed, hooked the ankle to absorb the blow and ushered another hiss. A swift exhale cleared her focus, straightened as her breath drew once again. Now with the limb pinned against her obliques; she cocked her elbow back and armed her leather-clad fist.

“I’m Karla Ray Reinhardt, I belittle everything.”

The malice embedded in her knuckles now charged; her left fist aimed to pulverize this justice-seeker’s jaw.

[Zeva]

At least one of Amari's kick connected in a clean way, but the heroine didn't have a second to celebrate "Unghhh!" A dry sound rumbled as Karla's fist found the heroine's jaw, the girl fell on her butt after the blow and her head turned in a way that shook her brain, the yellow dressed woman even lost consciousness for an instant.

For Amari there was a small mental gap between the moment she received the blow and the moment she found herself on the ground, the emotions after her opponent's blow moved in overwhelming force and Amari finally understood that there was more at stake than a simple match, her opponent wanted to prove something and she was but a simple hindrance for the redhead, without standing up she tried to back away, clearly scared.

[Monsy]

The solid pound of flesh and bone told a lullaby on her palm. Sweet symphony, pain and this pulse that exploded into adrenaline that surged up her arm and into her grin.

“Retreating so soon? Here I thought heroes were brave.”

She slumped, combed a hand through her velvet hair, and glanced up with a toothy smirk.

“Where’s the justice in THAT?! Hahaha...” Her voice trailed off into laugher, and she advanced as would a predator taunt its prey. A lurch ended this farce of retreat; her high heel plunged onto their ankle. Arousal tickled her heart as she applied weight onto the sharp point, dug into that bone as she leaned forward to lock a gaze only inches apart.

“Come on. Stand up to me! You don’t want to be a loser, do you? Hit me right here. Right here, hundchen.” She said as she turned her head and used a leather-clad index to tap her smooth, unmarked cheek.

[Zeva]

"I thought heroes were brave" Those words hurt her, even more than the blow that brought her down, until now Amari had faced painful situations and unfair fights with courage, taking every opportunity to improve and toughen up, but in this fight, she seemed to have no chance, a brutal beating was coming, she felt it in the air.

For a fighter whose gimmick was to talk about hope, having lost it so early in a fight seemed ironic. The laughter of his rival accentuated that feeling.

"N-no aghhh" The redhead projected an aura that disturbed her and the malice with which she sank her heel into her ankle made the fighter dressed in yellow kick and scream in pain on the ground. But before the provocations the girl gathered what little courage she had left and she tried to deliver a weak slap, followed by a push with the other hand, trying to free her foot.

[Monsy]

What a den of pleasure. Such tangle in this sense of ecstatic; wrought through a hardy heel that pinned the ankle. If only she were a little bigger. Physically stronger, or maybe less moral, this ankle would break. The crunch could play on repeat and bring her mental state to orgasm. Not that it mattered, as she beckoned some of her punishment. To feel what a hero gave. The kind the audience longed to triumph. What this hero thought she could achieve. It snapped with a sting that coursed her cheek. Her head flinched, her lip pricked by a one-sided pink as her hand graced across.

“Hoh. Is that all you can give me? Tch… That really upsets me, you useless DOG!”

A hand caught their push, pulled aside, and her knee drew back, breath clenched, then the pillar of bone shot forward, a strike that sought to club their face’s centre. And only then would their precious limb be freed. If only by a Reinhardt’s mercy. A villain’s own volition.