Catherine Celestial vs Katsumi Oshiro - No Disqualification

[Monsy]

No DQ
Win via Pinfall, Submission or Knockout.

[CyanDimitrik]

It's not for a title.

It's not for a title.

It's not for a title.

Not yet.

The mental message has been running on repeat for Katsumi Oshiro. But no matter how many times she ears it in her head, it has done nothing to settle the nerves building in her stomach. Everything had been going fine for her, from the plane ride to Beijing, to the hotel, to the locker room. It happened after she'd changed into her gear, when she got a look at herself in the mirror.

That's when it became real.

That's when it all came rushing to the forefront.

This was the best shot she'd get at proving she belongs in the title scene. Nothing else had moved the needle enough. Not the promos, not the skills, not even her full makeover, going from ugly duckling to black swan. Her fights had convinced someone out there to give her a foot in the door, to see if she can prove herself on LAW's grandest stage, in a whole new country, with more eyes on her than ever before. Fail here, and there may not be a second chance for someone like her; abrasive, socially dense, aggressive. Things that have cost her dearly in her personal life, but always seemed to work out in the ring. Shame the corporate level seemed to disagree, at least in the past.

Here she stands, though. She can say she got here on her own merit. She worked hard. She fought hard. She took risks. She fell off, then came back a beautiful monster with new levels of finesse and ferocity. Maybe it's more corporate-friendly? Maybe she's more palatable to the masses, with her longer hair and punk chic gear?

Part of the problem is she doesn't really know.

All she knows is it's not for the title. Not yet.

This is the right step towards it. This is where she proves she deserves to be in the running.

She can handle that. She can handle that pressure. She wrestles regularly. She practically lives in the ring. Even if the ring looks extra cool tonight, with its jade mat and black aprons, its gold accents. The thought was enough to ground her, and after fitfully teasing her hair to let out excess tension, she straightened her posture and planted a hand to her waist. She smirked at her reflection.

There she is.

There's the Punk Princess.

Katsumi Oshiro, the Punk Princess

Studded cropped leather jacket thrown on over her frame, Katsumi fished out her sunglasses to slot neatly over her eyes. This audience will be getting the full experience tonight, for better or worse. Here's to hoping the Chinese constituents are ready for some socially unacceptable behavior.

The lights dim in the massive National Stadium. The sense of anticipation falls heavy among the ninety-thousand some fans filling the arena. The heavy thrum of an electric guitar begins pulsing throughout the open space, accompanied with emerald and amethyst laserlights flashing and dancing overhead, creating an intricate spiderweb of color.

Katsum's logo appears on every screen as the music builds towards the main theme. And when the industrial metal music hits, her sizzle reel is in full display: Katsumi landing a flying 450 splash on Cathy Jefferson's prone body, hitting a belly-to-belly suplex on Alexia atop the announcer's desk, dropping a tombstone piledriver onto Raquel Masters, landing the Nightmare Fuel gory bomb on Navi Florges, and lastly, pinning Stacy Celestial flush beneath her in dominant fashion.

The Video

As it plays, Katsumi erupts from the obscuring darkness of the backstage and into a pair of waiting spotlights, her arms held widely above her head to usher in what she expects to be scorn and hate. To her surprise, it isn't. Nothing but raucous cheer meets her tonight in this arena, penetrating her soul like an energizing tidal wave. She wants to give her typical confident, catty smirk. But she can't stop the beautifully radiant smile already on her face as she soaks it in.

A series of brilliant white cold sparks erupt from the corners of the stage.

"Tonight's contest is a no-disqualification scheduled for one fall!," begins the announcer.

"Making her way to the ring! At a height of 5'7", and weighing in at 124 lbs.!"

Katsumi begins down the ramp, her arms raised to either side at shoulder height. Her gloved palms are turned outwards to either side of the aisle, both acknowledging and summarily dismissing both sections of the audience desperately reaching out for high-fives and pats. Her stride is cocky, with hips confidently asway.

"From Osaka, Japan! The Punk Princess! KATSUMIIII! OOOOSHIIIROOOO!"

She grabs onto the middle rope and smoothly sweeps herself up onto the apron. In the same motion, her body whirls to face out over the audience she'd just passed. She presents to them her left fist, and the right fist begins cranking to slowly produce a middle finger.

To her surprise, they cheer louder. They knew what they were getting into. They knew who she was before she got here. This is the unabashed punkette they were eager to see in person, and she's loving this. Every second of it.

"Muah," she air-kisses in playful condescension to them.

Turning again to the ring, she vaults herself neatly up and over to land boots upon the mat. Then it's a race up the furthest turnbuckle, standing perched upon the middle ropes to face the entire other section of the stadium. Her index finger hooks the center of her shades, tugging them down just enough to let her vivid green eyes peer from over the rim with a theatrically predatory smile. Suddenly, her arms whip back, presenting herself to the audience.

They respond with a fresh wave of riotous cheer and approval.

At last, the Punk Princess drops from her perch and plucks the shades from her face. With a flick, the legs are folded and they're tucked into an inner pocket of her jacket. Finally, the jacket itself is shrugged from her shoulders and slid off, exposing her athletically trim body to the open air; from smoothly toned arms and thighs to sleek midsection. The garment is dropped off on the outer apron of the ring.

Then? The Punk Princess waits. She reclines back into her corner, her arms resting along the top ropes to either side as she stares at the entrance. She doesn't know her opponent tonight, other than she's been in the PPV scene before. More than once, she believes. So she expects the other girl is going to be a tough opponent. The stipulation plays to her own strengths, really. But without knowing who Catherine is, it might just as well be to her benefit.

But she'll be okay.

It's not for a title.

Not yet.

[Blade ocs]

Catherine didn't get what she wanted at the last event in L.A.W.; she didn't want a repeat of the last event. At least it's not a torment. She remembered what her past matches in these events were like.


She heard Katusmi music start to play. It was almost her time to go. She got up. She rolled her shoulders and stretched her legs one last time. She needs to not dwell on the past and focus on the now. Well, maybe she shouldn't have jumped the gun and challenged the girl. Well, she needs someone hard to best if she is hard.


Someone comes to tell her that it is her time to go up. It's close. Catherine goes to walk to the entrance. No lights had shone on her yet..





She enters the ring with her hands up high, then levels them flat. She walks down with her right fist in the air. She goes into the ring, and she goes and climbs on the top rope on the top right-hand side and puts her right fist into the air. She gets down and makes herself do a barrel roll, and after that, she gets up and goes to her side of the ring. She pats her pants.



She goes to look at her opponent. "Hello. We don't know each other much. So let's get to know each other by wrestling." She made some small talk.



She doesn't expect much from her response. She probably just wants to win. Can't blame her. All that awaits is her opponent and the bell to go off.

[CyanDimitrik]

In through the nose, out through the mouth.

When learning to fight, that's how you're taught to breathe. It regulates, keeps you from blowing up too quick. But it also works for nerves, keeping tensions in check; centering oneself.

Katsumi can feel the nerves threatening to bunch up in her stomach again in the pause between her entrance and her opponent's. It's that dull silence as the audio switches over and the audience gets their chance to brace for the next superstar to make her appearance. She'd much rather have been the second to come out, to set the contrast with her opponent, to talk - or gesture, rather - a little trash to set the stage, to get into her rival's head. On this enormous platform, this global theater, it's the silence that's eating her.

Getting all up in her own head.

Inhale. Exhale.

The music starts, and Katsumi occupies herself by leaning forward and stretching her arms behind her. A few seconds of that, and she's on to bouncing in place, light as a feather on her boots, wrists shaking to ensure she's nice and loose for the grapple about to happen. Her head tilts far to the left, then right, working out the neck. Everything to keep herself from just fixating on what's coming.

Catherine enters the ring, posing for the audience. Katsumi is, at last, allowing herself to stare hard at her. Around the same age. About the same height. But Catherine is clearly more muscled than Katsumi - built tight, while Katsumi is lithe. Another chick with more glamorous abdominals than hers. The stray thought causes the punkette's lips to twist slightly. Hmph.

But the main point she arrives at, the most relevant point, is that Catherine Celestial looks formidable, and carries herself like this is old hat for her.

Inhale. Exhale.

The predatory smile edges the corners of Katsumi's lips. She's glad for it. Having a weak, frail primadonna in the ring with her would be less convincing for the higher-ups. If she's here to prove she belongs in the main event, in belt contention, she's glad it'll be against someone worth beating. Someone who's been there. Someone who looks strong.

And then the smile vanishes into a curious look as Catherine approaches her. Her muscles tense, fingers splaying at the ready in case this was a pre-bell assault! But.. it isn't. It is perhaps the most folksy, earnest greeting she's ever experienced in her wrestling career. It's enough to earn an owlish blink from the Punk Princess.

Gremlin mode activates.

"You'll get to know me real well when I'm pinning ya to the mat," Katsumi replies with a grin that borders playfully teasing and cocky. She wasn't planning on making any remarks, potentially suggestive or otherwise. They just sort of happen. It can't be helped. Someone like Katsumi is not naturally found in metropolitan apartments or nice houses, but rather beneath bridges often littered with chewed-up goat bones.

The mousy referee-girl looks between the two competitors. "You ready!?," is asked to each. And with confirmation, she raises an arm... and slashes it forward. "Wrestle!"

*DING*

The bell sounds off, and Katsumi steps forward, light and nimble. Her stance widens, her balance a little lower, braced as she measures Catherine up. A couple steps, a quick skip of gold-soled boots over jade mat sees her circling with the other girl. Her arms raise to shoulder height, palms open, inviting the traditional lock-up with her opponent. No tricks forthcoming just yet. As it so happens, she wants to feel out the other girl; to gage her strength, stability, and technical skill. The best way to do that is to go direct.

She dashes in to close the distance, looking to hook one hand at Catherine's collar, the other hand at her elbow to initiate the lockup.

[Blade ocs]

"Ohhh, a little nasty. We will see how you are when I break your mind, body, and spirit," she replied to her. She seemed a bit nervous, ours maybe. She was taking deep breaths quite a bit.



The bell rings.



Catherine was going to rush her. However she seems to be. Inviting her. It's an offering to do a test of strength. Is it a lie or is it the truth? Questions? Questions.



She decides to accept her offer. She knows she's trying to gauge how tough she is. She's going to do it as well. However, when she locks up, she will be defensive and not aggressive at first.

[CyanDimitrik]

There it is, the explosive first moment of contact between the grapplers. Hands clasp onto each other's frame with the fervency one might expect from a stage this grand; almost as a form of iaijutsu, Katsumi's immediate intensity in meeting Catherine enough to frighten or intimidate less seasoned wrestlers. The contact is made with purpose - no half-measures tonight, no screwing around. She wants this match. She needs this match.

With her left hand braced at Catherine's collar and her right hand hooking the girl's elbow, she leans heavily into the other girl to test the firmness and security of her grapple. Heels dig in, stance balanced and fortified, Katsumi's back arches and she leans tighter, bringing her face close to the other woman's - enough so that each puffed breath of exertion breezes against Catherine's lips.

Catherine is dug in, though, taking up the defensive. And just as Katsumi expected, she's not going to be outright outmuscling her in a direct head-to-head contest - not easily, anyway. With her body flexed with effort, everything engaged from thighs, to core, to shoulders and biceps, Katsumi tries to push the other girl back towards the ropes. It's a psychological contest as much as a physical one.

"If you're.. hopin' to score.. a highlight reel.. ya picked.. the wrong girl..!"

[Blade ocs]

"Ha, that's a first," she replied.

That was not a good insult to her. Actually, she should give points to creativity. Is there any real point to that, though? Eh, it is what it is, as they say. Now then, Catherine will see if she can do something fancy.

She lets Kasumi push her back. This is so she can try to grab her head with her hands to toss her or at the very least send her tripping or falling to the ropes. She wants to see if she can play tricks on her.

[CyanDimitrik]

Though it could be considered an insult, if rather indirect, Katsumi's remarks are bolstering. Defiant. Mirroring the intense look behind those emerald green eyes, affixed currently to Catherine's. But the response she gets - that it's a first - earns a thin smirk. Not the response she was expecting. But it's fine. It's all part of the game of getting to know her opponent, feeling her out. It's as much a mental game as it is physical.

Every step Katsumi gains on her bolsters the punkette's confidence. Her fingers dig in a little tighter to the other woman's collar, her hand gripping harder onto the elbow. As she continues forward, she leans in, her back arching to ply stronger force. Her face nears Catherine's, each heated puff of breath whisking against the other girl's skin.

A final push, intent on planting Catherine's back against the ropes. That's all she needs. But Catherine counters with a feint! The grapple shifts, Katsumi's head is grabbed, and with a twist, she's delivered back against the ropes! Katsumi's momentum switches with a surprised gasp, and her arms instinctively snap up and over the top ropes to catch herself from either falling or bouncing forward! Her back rests against the curving cables as she gathers her footing again.

[Blade ocs]

Catherine would run up to Katsumi. She would go to give her a running big boot to her stomach. Aiming for the center of her torso to deal damage to her body. She hopes this will make her bend over or something.



In the event that she does fall over or bend over. Catherine would seize this opportunity. She would try and grab her head. Out Katsumi's head between her legs so she can squeeze it. Then she would lift her up and turn her around to face her in a powerbomb away from the ropes.



If she is also able to do that. She would get her elbows to give her a Boston crab submission hold. Catherine knows this isn't going to make her tap, but she's trying to get as much damage early on as possible. That's her goal at the moment.

[CyanDimitrik]

The referee is keeping her distance from the pair, Katsumi is quick to notice. It only makes sense - this is a no DQ match. They're expected to get extra-curricular, to play fast and loose with the typical rules. So what's a little rope play, right?

God, she hates that she immediately thought of it like that.

The punkette is just detangling her arms from the ropes to find her footing when Catherine barrels in again, sending her boot directly into her midsection. "Ungh!" Abdominals clench to take the blow, but it leaves her doubled over; one arm looping her stomach, the other hand gripping the rope behind her for stability.

Her head is seized and yanked forward, pulling her away from the ropes and right between a pair of thighs. Her hands quickly set to the outer-thighs, her mind racing. She's not so likely to power out of this position with her midsection just slammed moments ago, so she needs an opening. All the while, the audience is awestruck at the choice to go for such a powerful setup immediately. The commentators see it as a sign of Catherine not taking Katsumi seriously, wanting to put her out immediately. Every fiber of the Punk Princess bristles at that.

Arms wrap around her waist, and Katsumi is swing into the air, smoothly transitioning to Catherine's shoulders. Katsumi's thighs clench around the other girl's neck, and she immediately swings back of her own volition, tucking with the legs to pull the other girl forward and planting her hands to the mat, all in the effort to sling Catherine over in a sudden hurricanrana counter!