Blaise Cameron vs. Queen Geedorah - Party Up!

[BlackAkuma]

Match Type: Standard
Victory Stipulations: Pinfall, Submission, or KO.

”Blaise. Blaise. Maze. Taze. Days. Ways. Blaze? Oh, homophone, that’s good.”

Geedorah had twenty minutes until her match. Her first intergender match, as it turned. Ostensibly kind of a big deal, taking on a man she’d never met before in a one on one contest. A real challenge for any woman, let alone one on a losing streak. She should’ve spent that time coming up with a strategy to take him on, or psyching herself up with positive energy, or at least doing basic stretches. What did she do instead?

Rhyme. She was trying to come up with a rap.

Aaliyah found herself waiting with her cousin in the gorilla position, lying on a stack of crates while she - the person who would be wrestling in a few minutes - was busy scribbling notes on a nearby desk, pouring over the papers as if her life depended on it. She knew it was futile to argue about it, that there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to make Yo-Yo get serious about this, but she couldn't help but try anyway. ”You really think this is best use of your time, Yo?” She looked her way with a furrowed brow. ”I get it, the rapping thing is your…thing. But it ain’t gonna win you a single fight. You’re not gonna demoralize this guy or anything.”

”Chill with that noise.” Yo-Yo waved her off as if they’d had this conversation a thousand times before, which probably wasn’t too far from the truth. ”It’s my gimmick, right? My whole style. You got your whole street ninja schtick going on, and me? I got this. Gotta stick to the bit, grow my brand.”

”You ain’t gonna grow your brand if you keep getting your head kicked in.” Aaliyah sat up and shook her head, letting her braids bounce about. ”Which is exactly what’ll happen if you go into this match half-cocked, like you’re about to do.”

Aaliyah knew her words were falling on deaf ears, and that was confirmed a few minutes later, as they were making their way down to the ring in front of a stacked crowd. As her cousin strutted towards the ring, she walked with a microphone in hand, ready to blow as a

accompanied them.

”Yo! Japan! All rise for Queen Geedorah!” She threw her hands up in the air as Aaliyah followed close behind, taking care not to step into her spotlight. She’d never hear the end of it if she did.

”Queen Geedorah on the prowl and I demand respect
This little fool, Blaise, he better watch his neck

I don’t discriminate in the ring, I’m like a fight bisexual
And I’m-a break this fool down like an intellectual!

I don’t discriminate in my hate, I go both way
I’ll drop Blaise in a daze, make him see sideways

I’m the best on the mic, in-ring I’m the goat
I’m gonna shove my foot straight down Blaise’s throat!”

The crowd didn’t seem to be all that impressed - not the least because a good deal of them didn’t speak English, Aaliyah suspected. She just rolled her eyes and made her way around the ring, find a nice spot to sit and watch by the timekeeper’s area. With legs crossed, she sat and waited for Blaise to come out, hoping this would at least be mercifully short.

[CyanDimitrik]

Blaise Cameron, more recently dubbed "The Phoenix", is blissfully unaware of what's to come. He's taken up some new habits of his own pre-match - reviewing what's happened before in his mind, thinking through what went wrong, what went right, where he stepped poorly in one spot, where he should've known something else was going to happen. His return to LAW was one meant to be triumphant and prominent, like his new namesake - he made this career his life's work, and it needed to be reflected in how seriously he took it.

Arms swing back and forward, limbering the muscles along his shoulders and back as he pops his weight and balance from foot to foot. Some things never change; he's always been an energetic dynamo. It doesn't matter what training montage he's gone through, or what new, totally thematic gear he's wearing; the latter a bit of pride for him, admittedly. He liked his old blue-and-black patterned attire. But there's something so appealingly dramatic about the predominantly black gear emblazoned with stylized flames. Tall boots with kneepads, ending just before strong, muscled thighs, the classic style trunks clinging to his hips, leaving his sleekly toned abdominals and defined pectorals bare, and the black bracers over his wrists to finish off the mainstay of the outfit. Though for entrances, a pair of gold-framed aviators rests over his eyes, and a black leather jacket decorated with an excessive amount of pointless, albeit fashionable, crimson straps are just the right addition to make a lasting impression.

Blaise Cameron

Or so he thought, until he heard his opponent's music start up. Not knowing hardly anything about her other than a very Godzilla-esque name, Blaise was not prepared for what followed.

Oh.

Oh shit.

Did he-.. did he just get served?

The crew at either side of the curtain don't look fazed at all. But Blaise pinches the corner of his shades and slides them down.

"Oh snap."

The lights dim down in the arena, and the audience's thrum follows suit. Until the first and extremely recognizable guitar licks of a song dripping in Americana blast over the speakers. The crowd bursts into a rising crescendo of cheer as Blaise's name appears in flames on the titantron, followed by "THE PHOENIX". As the video plays its vignette of the young man cruising soulfully down a sundrenched road on royal blue motorcycle, the man himself lunges out into the spotlight, fist pumped into the air and awash in audience praise.

Blaise's Intro Music

He tosses a finger high, slowly brings it down to point into the ring at his opponent - whom he can't quite make out clearly through the shades and at this distance - before snapping the hand back in a fist. From there, it's a spirited trot down the ramp, drifting to either side and slapping a train of high-fives and acknowledging points. For the final quarter of the way, he breaks into a full sprint at the ring and dives beneath the bottom rope, sliding onto the mat. Palms plant against the ring, and the momentum carries him into a one-armed handstand.

The other arm tugs his shades down/up slightly to look at Geedorah, point her out, and shoot her a wink.

With a pump of the arm, he rights himself and immediately rushes up the furthest turnbuckle to acknowledge the other half of the arena. Right fist thumps against his chest a few times before slowly scanning the crowd with another point, nodding.

God, it's good to finally be cheered. What a change of pace.

Hopping down from the corner post, he shrugs out of his jacket to drop just outside the ropes. The sunglasses are deftly swept from his face, and smoothly slotted over the referee girl's brow when she approaches to give him the pat-down; which she carries out with a shy smile.

Finally settled, he looks across the ring to his opponent and offers a bright, unabashedly upbeat smile. "Can't say anyone's ever sung about me before!," he calls, perhaps completely missing the point of it. "That's cool! I see you!"

What he doesn't see is Aaliyah beside the timekeeper.

[BlackAkuma]

Right away, Aaliyah found herself liking Blaise. She couldn't say she was a fan of his taste in music - glam metal was not her thing - but she could respect the aesthetic and the general energy he brought to the ring. She hadn't paid much attention to the intergender scene in LAW. Still, from what she’d heard, it consisted of two types: a) weak guys who only came into the federation so they could wrestle hot women and b) assholes who got their kicks beating around wimpy girls in bikinis who could hardly fight. While you could never be too sure of a first impression, the vibe she got from Blaise didn’t fit either camp.

A good thing. A damned good thing. It meant that there was a low likelihood that she would have to step in if things got serious, which was the main reason she’d come out here in the first place. Her cousin wasn’t in any danger. At least, no more so than she was by default.

Geedorah, of course, didn’t appreciate any of that about her opponent. She just paced, hands on hips, while she endured Blaise’s theme music and waited for things to get settled. She only paused when he spoke up, earning a sneer from her and a dismissive flip of her hair.

”Didn’t sing. Rapped. Dumbass.” She snickered and made her way to the center of the ring, sizing him up along the way. If she was bothered by the stark height and size advantage he had on her, she wasn’t showing it. ”And no shit, no one’s ever sung about you. What’s there to sing about with your whitebread ass?”

Geedorah bounced away from him and raised her fists, throwing out a few quick punches, staying light on her feet. ”You got any more stupid shit to say, or are you ready to go? ‘Cause I’m ready.”

[CyanDimitrik]

Well, there goes his smile. It's replaced with a skewing, contemplative look as Blaise weathers Geedorah's barbs, his head tilting slightly to the side. But then, in short order it returns in the form of a wry, even teasing grin. "Aren't you a ray of sunshine."

He can't be too surprised by the attitude. She sounds street. And street, he ain't. He might have qualified as street in the '90s, but by modern standards, he's the boy-next-door more than anything. It doesn't help that Geedorah is actually cute as a button, though. Pretty face, lil' nose, sharp eyes, fit body, sassy energy - he'd be surprised she isn't more popular. Granted, a lot of the girls in LAW are attractive.

He's getting distracted. Blaise gives his head a quick shake and refocuses on the mouthy teen before him. "Are ya sure you're ready?," Blaise asks, posture straightening. With one fist propped to his hip, he gestures towards her, "Seems ya spent so much time figuring out your rap, you forgot you might need a stepping stool tonight!"

He's only semi-proud of that. He's not good at making fun of people, and he knows it. She at least deserved the attempt at retaliation!

The referee adjusts Blaise's sunglasses atop her head, ensuring they won't slip off, and checks everyone's position. With Geedorah already shadow-boxing and Blaise posturing, she waves an arm to signal the bell.

*DING*

[BlackAkuma]

…stepping stool?

Did this motherfucker just call her short?

Okay, so she wasn’t tall by any definition. Hell, she was on the lower side of the lightweight class. She was, by most reasonable definitions, a small person. But hell, it was all relative, right? She was actually about the average height for a woman in Japan, and she’d come across more than a few that she towered over. And he didn’t have to draw attention to that, the fucker. He wasn’t exactly a giant, himself. She’d seen bigger. ”Yeah, keeping talking!” She spat back. ”You’ll be shorter than me when you’re on your fucking knees, bitch!”

More energetic than ever, Yo-Yo bounced from heel to heel, barely touching the ground. Yeah, he was bigger? So what? She had speed. Greasy, fast speed. She already knew how to use it, too, and she’d show him exactly what was up in three, two…

She came dashing forward as soon as the bell rang, skipping across the ring at mach speed and going straight for him, hard as hell. She closed the gap and started swinging away, throwing out an opening barrange of wild punches, swinging at everything she could see, trying to get in some early damage.

[CyanDimitrik]

Oh yeah. She's a keeper. The irritable response from her at least keeps Blaise engaged, though he doesn't have enough on-demand vitriol to keep up. He is, unfortunately, a nice guy; prone to compliments and positivity with taunts of a definitively more playful nature. And he's found himself paired with a lil' spitfire. Which is sure to make the match exciting!

...and rewarding, once they get started.

The bell sounds, and the girl rushes at him like a bottle rocket. It's easy enough to anticipate her directed energy, and even her punching offense, given she'd been shadowboxing just before! But even still, Blaise opts to turtle up by bringing his arms forward together and tucking his chin behind his fists. She punches drive in against his arms primarily, and he jerks a little to try to keep the 'shield' mobile enough to receive her adjusted attacks. But he'll only let it carry on a couple seconds before suddenly lashing out!

The left arm attempts to catch her right arm against his side, and the right arm attempts to catch the left, his hands gripping onto her biceps while his elbows press in against her wrists. And should he seize the shorter opponent and create this opening, his right knee will thrust upwards and forward, aimed to blast hard directly into her unprotected belly.

[BlackAkuma]

Yeah, Yo-Yo had him on the run. Blow after blow after blow flew through the air as she wailed into him, slapping against his guard, forcing him to turtle up just so he could weather her assault. She let out a triumphant as he - to her eyes, at least - began to wither under her onslaught, put in a position where all he could do was hold on for dear life and wait for the end to come.

”What’s wrong, huh? Fight back!” She snickered as another strike dinged off his forearms. Hurt her knuckles a little with that one. ”You’re a man, right? Fight me like one, come-”

And then, out of nowhere, Blaise fought. Oh, shit, did he fight back.

Yo-Yo found her arms suddenly snagged, which would’ve been distressing enough by itself. But the icing on the cake was the knee that came flying towards her breadbasket, sinking deep into her gut and knocking the wind clean out of her, hitting with enough force to lift her off her feet. When she came back down, she crumbled to her knees, gasping and wheezing and letting out a stream of guttural curses. ”Cheap…shot…”

[CyanDimitrik]

When it comes to Geedorah, Blaise is learning that it isn't enough to have toughness and resilience. You also have to have a thick skin. Cuz this chick talks some shiiiit! In a weird way, he's kind of enjoying the brassy attitude; it feels patently American, and he's not been in the States for more than a couple days at a time in years. And everyone knows there's nothing more American than baseball, apple pie, and being cursed out at a sporting event.

The knee sunk into her stomach, unsurprisingly popping her lightweight figure off her feet a bit! She drops to her knees, and Blaise bites back the impulse to remark on it. After all, she'd just said that's where he'd be!

What he does instead, however, is lean down over her and reach for her arms. Both attempt to weave under her elbows and cross against her back, before pulling her more to her feet. The pulling itself would add strain to the arms, 'encouraging' her to comply lest they be tugged out backwards too far. But that isn't the stopping point! Higher and higher she'll go, the strain on the arms intensifying as he attempts to heft the girl upside-down by the double-underhook, briefly presenting her to the audience, likely letting the baggy shirt she wears fall and gather beneath her chin.

But the culmination is a quick and punishing one. He drops forward, attempting to slam the girl's body against the mat on her front in a facebuster!

[BlackAkuma]

”Shitfuckfucukshitfuck-”

The curse stream continued as Yo-Yo seethed on the canvas, generally hating life at the moment. That knee had went deep into her breadbasket, driven all the wind out of her and left her gasping. Bad as that was, it wasn’t nearly as painful as being made that way because of a punk like this. Smart-ass little bitch…

Gritting her teeth, she looked over towards Aaliyah, only to see her cousin sitting back, enjoying a water bottle at ringside. She glared her way and spoke up with a sneer, calling across the ring ”Gonna do something over there?”

Aaliyah paused in mid-sentence and shrugged. ”Like what?”

”A little encouragement would-”

Yo-Yo’s protests were abruptly cut off, as Blaise reached over and seized her arms, hoisting her up and holding her aloft. She kicked her legs about, frantic and shook her head in a wild bid to get free, all while her shirt slid up her body, revealing the lacey bra underneath. ”No, hey, put me down, put me down, put me-”

Blaise did put her down. Face first, right onto the mat. Yo-Yo crashed into the canvas with a sickening splat, bounced up from the impact then, came to lay there with her hair splayed about and her arms wide, a lifeless husk on the floor.

[CyanDimitrik]

BOOM.

The ring shakes with the impact of Blaise and Geedorah's bodies impacting it. And with the rebounding bounce, he releases her arms to let her lie sprawled against the canvas. But that's not to say he isn't observant! His focus turns to the woman ringside, who seems to be the epitome of chill at the moment!

A quick glance is cast down to the girl stunned on the mat, and the one hanging out nearby. "You family?," he calls over to her curiously, his tone light and even conversational. But while the question hangs in the air, he lifts to his feet and moves behind his opponent to take her by the ankles. And from there, simply drag her across the mat away from the ropes. And upon reaching center ring, her legs are released and he drops to his knees beside her. One hand on the girl's hip, the other at her shoulder to roll her over onto her back.

Finally, he gets a good look at her. The baggy shirt with the intensely deep V cut wasn't hiding a whole lot, but with it gathered up against her chin, her body is more fully on display; a sleek figure to go with the cute face. He'd be lying if he said attractive opponents weren't a definite perk to working at LAW, but he has a job to do, and she still has the capacity to surprise him! Leaning forward, he braces his chiseled midsection across hers, abdominals pressed tight across abdominals. His left elbow props against the mat, while his right arm reaches back to hook her thigh, pulling it into the air against his side.

The pinning position is a simple one. The fact that he's doing it deliberately to face the other female outside the ring, clearly in hopes of getting an answer to his question, makes it even casual to a certain degree.