The New Real

[CyanDimitrik]

(Continued from: Marissa vs. Katsumi)

...As Katsumi's arm loops her abused stomach, she begins scanning the arena. The roaring audience, recently treated to a spectacle of brutality ending with a hint of sensual pin, continues to fill the stadium with the clamor of their voices. Marissa appears to be right where she left her on the mat. The referee has moved to the model's side to check on her. The announcers wait patiently for the Punk Princess to leave the ring.

'Bingo.'

She makes her way to the edge of the ring and leans over the ropes. "Hey! Gimme the mic!," she shouts over the audience. The announcer stares blankly up at her. "The mic, jackass! Toss it!" Spurred by the aggressive tone, he snags the microphone and awkwardly starts for the ring. "Oh my god, TOSS it, asshat!"

The microphone pops into the air, and Katsumi snatches it cleanly. "Thank you. Ugh."

Turning, Katsumi makes her way over to Marissa. "Aww," she coos into the microphone as she approaches. "You guys~!" She toes her boot at Marissa's waist. "I think I broke it!"

[TheManVan]

Marissa groaned out as the realization that she lost soon appeared in her head. She was crushed, expecting to go on a win streak with coming to LAW. But she wasn't disheartened that much, she knew that it was the nature of the game. She came into the match way to confident for someone of her experience to think anything else other than an easy win.

But then she realized that it wasn't enough for Katsumi to just take the win, grabbing a microphone as she heard the booming voice of her brash opponent talking down on her as she groaned, looking up to see just what the hell she was planning.

[CyanDimitrik]

"Good morning, sunshine~," Katsumi continues to coo in a sugary-sweet voice. "These people just got to see what it looks like for Marissa Winters to get laid out!" She props a fist to her cocked hip and offers the blonde a wicked little smile. "It's a good look on you. Good thing, too. It's all anyone'll ever see when you get in the ring with me."

The audience continues to roar, and Katsumi shoots them a look. "Buuut it sounds like that's not all they want. I hear they like a little something else..."

The Punk Princess drops to her knees beside Marissa. Her free hand reaches down to scoop the back of Marissa's head. Aside to the audience, she asks, "Is this what you want...?," before dropping the microphone. Her freed hand moves to cup Marissa's jaw, her expressive green eyes attempting to lock with Marissa's. Slowly, gradually, the model's pretty face will be pulled in, attempting to draw her close as if to press a kiss to her lips. The level of cheer and encouragement from the audience is near-deafening.

Of course, she'd be stopping just short.

[TheManVan]

And rub her victory into her face was her goal, Marissa's teeth gritting as Katsumi continued to run her mouth off on the microphone. The fans were on her side, that was the only silver lining to know that she had gotten some fans in the arena who were behind her. Or perhaps they were simply boing Katsumi just because she was being obnoxious, but that idea would fly right over Marissa's head as she began to get a little worried when Katsumi ominously hinted at what she was planning next.

She couldn't help but get a little nervous when Katsumi approached her, Marissa getting onto her butt as she tried to back away from her opponent as their eyes locked. The agitation in Marissa's eyes could be seen as Katsumi grabbed her chin, pulling her closer as her face flushed red! Not only did Katsumi beat her, but now she was going to claim her!?

She wanted to struggle, but she found herself locked in the gaze of Katsumi as they drew in even closer as their lips were mere inches apart!

[CyanDimitrik]

The moment is delicious like candy, both for Katsumi and the audience, for very different reasons. The audience is about to be treated to a spectacle they've come to anticipate from certain matches; two women, sweaty, roughed up, about to engage in intimacy. For Katsumi, the provocateur, the agitator, she's in the process of screwing with Marissa so hard. But then, Marissa might be relieved shortly.

Their lips draw close enough that Katsumi's heavy, warm breaths mingle with Marissa's. Mere inches from contact, she suddenly shoves the poor blonde away with a forceful push. There's some enthusiastic booing to follow, and Katsumi retrieves the microphone as she lifts to her full height.

"Screw that! I didn't come here to get laid!"

Marissa will finally get some level of reprieve as Katsumi moves away from her towards the ropes, continuing to address the audience.

"I'm Katsumi Oshiro, the Punk Princess! That name may be new to some of you out there, but you're gonna get to know me fast! I'm not some skanky bitch with an itch to scratch! I'm the upstart that's gonna tear apart whoever LAW throws at me! And whenever that Middleweight Title starts circulating, I'll be the one wearing the gold! And anyone who gets in my way or thinks they can stop me is gonna end up just like poor Marissa Winters!" She pauses to turn and point towards Marissa, "Broken!"

She switches hands with the microphone and begins walking the perimeter of the ring, pointing out at the audience. "I'm here to kick asses and redefine what it means to be top contender! So all you scrubs out there hanging in the wings; I'm calling you out! You want a real challenge? You wanna prove you're something? Come get me!"

The microphone is lowered, the brassy open challenge met with raucous approval. After several seconds, the microphone is raised again.

"No champion worth a damn backs down from a real challenge! So this means you, too, you steroid freaks and two-legged whales! I'm coming for you!"

The audience roars, and Katsumi gives a wry, confident smirk.

"And the lightweights, too! What the Hell, why not, right!? Bring'em all on!"

Katsumi lowers the microphone again for a moment, letting the audience's frenzied cacophony fill the arena uninterrupted. She nods along encouragingly, while subtly musing to herself how she's very nearly a lightweight, herself. She squeaked over the division line by less than 5 lbs.! The audience members who pay attention may notice that. But those who haven't so far - well, no point highlighting it. Weight divisions were never a thing in her old federation. She'd rather not be judged by her weight here, but by her skill. What better way to enforce that than to take all comers?

She raises the microphone again. "You wanna know who Katsumi Oshiro is!?"

She pauses to look out over the audience.

"SHE'S THE NEW REAL!"

The microphone is then tossed in the direction of the announcer's table, uncaring whether or not it actually lands in hands. Fortunately, one of the announcers has the reflexes to catch it! Katsumi, herself, slips between the ropes to drop back down to the ground. Her gaze is deadlocked forward, jaw set, hands raised and palms out to acknowledge the audience at either side as she moves with purpose into the backstage area.

This is it.

No going back.