Clash of Beauty and Bravado feat. Rianne Evans and Drake "Domino" Vyril

[Weonna]

Rianne barely has time to react before—

WHAM!

Drake's boot connects with her midsection, knocking the wind from her lungs. Her body doubles over instinctively, her breath catching in her throat, and before she can even recover—

SNAP!

Her jaw crashes into his shoulder as he drives her down with a brutal stunner. The impact jolts through her entire body, and for the first time in this whole exchange, the arrogant smirk is wiped clean off her face. She hits the ground, her head snapping back as she sprawls onto the floor, momentarily stunned.

The crowd erupts—some in shock, some in excitement, others in utter disbelief. The cameras zoom in, capturing every second of it. Gasps, yells, laughter—it’s chaos. And Rianne? Rianne is seeing white-hot fury as she blinks up at the lights, her jaw aching from the impact.

But it only takes a few heartbeats before the haze clears, and the fire in her chest roars back to life.

"You... little... shite..."

Her fingers dig into the floor as she pushes herself up, shaking off the dizziness. The moment she's on her knees, she lunges—grabbing at Drake's pant leg with a snarl, yanking him toward her.

If he thought she was gonna stay down, he was dead wrong.

"You think that makes you a man?!"

Her grip tightens, and with every ounce of power in her body, she explodes upward, launching herself into his midsection, driving him back with fury-fueled strength.

She doesn’t care about the cameras anymore. Doesn’t care about the crowd. This wasn’t just about words anymore—this means war. Her hand flies at his face, aiming to rake across his smug expression, nails digging in just enough to leave a mark. She wants him to feel it. Wants him to know she’s not some easy target.

"You just made the biggest mistake of your miserable life!"

The security team is rushing in now, but Rianne doesn’t stop. She goes for another hard shove, aiming to knock him off balance before she can get her hands on him again. Her heart is pounding, her blood boiling, and there’s not a chance in hell she’s letting him walk away from this unscathed.

[CyanDimitrik]

How did Drake expect this situation to go? Well, it's hard to say. Few things are ever predictable in the world of professional wrestling. He was asked to do a shoot, specifically one centered on the modeling roster of LAW. He knew there were a few others who mirrored his occupational balance in the roster, but he couldn't attest to them having gotten the same belittling treatment he'd endured his entire career. Maybe they found places that weren't so narrow-minded. Maybe they started in LAW. That's their journey. This is his. So an opportunity to unabashedly be what he is and show the synergy between both worlds wasn't one he was going to waste.

Did he expect someone to take shots at him? Maybe a little. It was par for the course. Something he expected having to deal with until he'd gotten bigger shots. Bigger opponents. Until he got gold. Success is the best payback, in itself. Finding fulfillment while knocking down detractors, it's a strong motivator. So every snide remark added another log to the fire. Every smug opponent who looked down on him before the bell, another lump of coal to add.

Did he expect to be attacked? No. Not especially. He's weathered insults before. Sometimes wrestlers get... ahead of themselves. They put hands on him, and a line gets crossed. He has to respond in a way that is both firm and clear; that he is not a pushover. He is not an easy target. People with varying personalities get into wrestling. But for people like Drake, they get into it because they're a fighter. Because there's something about the way they're wired that calls for it. That's eager to respond with force.

So after Rianne hit the ground following the stunner, Drake collected himself with a small scowl. Nothing said. No response to the crowd's reaction. This wasn't for them. This was for him. She crossed that line, she put a hand on him. She's a wrestler, and a wrestler in a federation with mixed matches. He's not treating her any differently. She stepped up, she got what she got. No regrets. He'd made the challenge to her twice. Both times she'd skirted it. So this would have to suffice, for as instant and temporary as it would be. He's ready to walk away and have a cooldown.

But he hears her stirring. He hears her words.

Ah Hell. Of course.

With a slender black eyebrow raised, he turns to her as she's gathering herself to her knees. He feels like he could kick her there - but he won't. She hasn't earned that. She's mouthy, she's a jerk, but she hasn't earned that kind of brutalizing. He's not that person.

"Just st-," he starts to say. But she's suddenly grabbed him by the pants.

Hello, Penthouse Forum.

Wait, no.

She yanks him closer, awkwardly enough hips-first. But before any imaginations can go wild, she's lunging herself into his muscled midsection, and the two barrel back against the wall. Tripods are knocked over, a few crew hurriedly rush aside to clear room. Her hands go for his face, getting her nails to rake against a cheek before his hands snap for her wrists. A growl escapes him, and he twists with her against the wall, attempting to reverse position with her. Amethyst eyes lock to blue eyes, normally pleasant features now twisted into an angry snarl. The two struggle and jockey for a dominant position...

...And the security personnel run in. Three burly men in bright yellow shirts, pushing to interject their bodies between the two wrestlers and force them apart.

"You know what?!," Drake yells at her from across the dividing bodies, the outrage finally winning over. "I'm not waiting for you to grow a spine and accept the challenge! You wanted an audience!? You wanted to make yourself look special!? You're gonna look real impressive lying beaten in the middle of the ring! And everyone's gonna know it's because you ran your idiot mouth at the wrong damn person!"

The security pushes against him more, and Drake steps back, hands raised with a scowl. "Get off. I'm done. She wants to go, it'll be in the ring."

But the security isn't really satisfied with this. They'll begin pushing the two towards differing exits. "Unless she backs out!," Drake adds pointedly towards her. "Then everyone will see what you really are! A poser!"

[Weonna]

Rianne struggles against the security guards pushing her back, her muscles tensed, her breath ragged from the adrenaline. She can still feel the sting of his damn stunner, the throbbing in her jaw, and the sheer indignation of being blindsided like that. Her eyes—blazing, ice-blue with fury—lock onto his as she shouts over the barrier of bodies.

"Oh, you’ve got some nerve, you smug little tosser!"

She tries to push forward again, but two of the security guards plant their hands on her shoulders, forcing her back a step. It doesn’t stop her from running her mouth, though. Not one bit.

"You think you can just—what? Hit me with a cheap shot and act like you’re some hard bastard?! Nah, mate. You wanna act like that, you’re gonna get it back ten times worse! You think I’m scared of you? You think I’m gonna back out?! Please! You’re lucky they’re holding me back, ‘cause I’d be draggin’ your sorry arse across this whole damn venue!"

The veins in her neck are visible as she fights against restraint, the sheer heat of the moment driving her forward. But then Drake speaks again. That one last dig.

"A poser."

Rianne freezes for half a second, lips curling into something between a smirk and a sneer.

Oh, he just made this personal.

"You wanna fight me in the ring, Domino? Fine. You’ve got it."

She lets herself be backed toward the exit, but not before pointing directly at him, her voice cutting through the noise like a blade.

"But when that bell rings? You better pray to whatever you believe in that I don’t end your little fairytale career right there on the mat. ‘Cause once we step between those ropes, sweetheart? You’re just another poor sod I get to embarrass."

With that, she lets the security pull her back, flipping her hair over her shoulder with exaggerated dramatics as she walks backward, still glaring at him the whole time.

This may be the start of a new rivalry for Rianne.