Lets slug it out! Karla “Ray” Reinhardt (D) vs Sandra Taylor

[xalex]

Sandra wasn´t done with her opponent. The American brawler would roll over to her side and would get to her knees. She grabbed a thigh hold on the arm of her opponent and would force karla back upto her knees as well, making her face the other direction before slowly trying to stand up. When Sandra was standing she was holding her opponent in a rear waist lock. The red haired punk would breathe in and out deeply for a few seconds before she tried to lift Karla up from the ground and hold her in front of her body. Then she suddnely snapped herself backwards trying to go for a bridged german supelx, trying to slam the upper back of Karla down into the mat as hard as she could. She would try to stay on her toes and hold her hip up high to force herself in a bridged position and the shoulders of her opponent into the ground for a attempted pin.

[Monsy]

Splayed out upon the canvas, the lights felt dark. It’s like Karla’s breaths released rock-dust, constantly scratching her mouth. Perhaps she’s winded. Exhausted, maybe? No, it was something else. No matter the inner-workings of the rookie’s mindset - Sandra proved she’s easy pickings. Lugged up by her arm, she slumped, her arm trapped within their clasp, draping as her other knuckles dragged across the canvas. Her tresses dangled like a curtain, swallowing her head, the parted lips that lapped for breath, spaceless eyes that appeared drunk. Then, she’s turned around like a straw doll, malleable to its master. Then both feet kissed the canvas; knees dug together as her pointed heels failed to connect with the mats. She slumped forward, folding over like a burlap sack before the tickle of hair and trek of time reinstated her consciousness. Life flushed her being. Her upper-half straightened, finding her footing as the draw on her hips tugged her skyward. Instinct roared to life as one foot coiled around Sandra’s leg. After ravelling their limb, Karla hitched her breath and growled, exploding into this scream as she threw her jutted elbow for their cheek. Then their hip. Again, their face.

Whatever it took to break the clasp, Karla writhed like a wild beast, clinging to life. Should freedom come, the redhead advanced. She’d return fire. By which, she pivoted on foot, sliding her left back, tucking one arm as she threw her shoulder for a massive overhand left, aimed for their jaw.

[xalex]

Sandra was about to end this match with a perfect pinfall when suddenly some massively painful elbows would hit her body over and over again. She began to scream in pain, her whole body would arch to the side and she would be unable to control herself and would fall over. She would roll over the floor for a little bit and groan in pain before trying to ge back up to her feet.
When she was standing again she would still be holding her side, leaving her whole front open for Karla to nail a nasty left punch right for her jaw. The red haired woman would take it and spin around stumbling away from her foe. Spit would fly away from her as she took this brutal blow. Sandra would need a moment to organize herself again figure out where everything was before she suddenly spun back around. She would throw her own straight jab into the face of karla trying to repay her in the same way.

[Monsy]

Pain is such a fantastic motivator, no? Elbow strikes then a thorough wallop against Sandra’s jaw, and the pain lining her knuckles was like an explosion of ecstasy.

Her body stumbled a step, leaning forward until a hand pushed on her thigh, making her lurch. Here, she panted hard. Their bout proved perilous for both women. Strain stung her limbs, where moving them felt like pumping iron. It was everything she wanted. A fight that left an impact on her frame tested it. To struggle. And the last bit? Endure. Everything her opponent had to give - the Reinhardt shall not falter under it.
And so, she flipped her hair back and grinned, raising her hand and beckoning them.

“COME ON!”

She shouted. And Sandra did just that. The strike made her face careen, followed by a stumble. One knee caved, nearly sending Karla down to the mat’s embrace before a hand broke her fall. Reddish spit left her maw as she kicked with her other foot, spinning back onto both feet. One hand cupped her jaw, garnished with a smirk. Oh, how she felt alive. Despite all the pain, something more profound was swelling. Elation, excitement, this cocktail that drove her onward, inspiring her to run straight for Sandra Taylor. Where, when in range, the German would leap, reel back her fist and answer with a superman punch aimed for their cheek.

[xalex]

Sandra saw the woman getting back up after the red spit was running down her check. Either this woman was super stubborn and stupid… or she was highly motivated. The red haired woman would smirk and just make her knuckles crack as she saw how Karla was getting ready again. The german woman was springing towards Sandra and the American brawler would walk forwards at first. Then Sandra picked up more speed and was running at karla as well… but she didn’t expect the smaller woman to suddenly jump up into the air. Sandra would try to stop, shocked and hopped to stop her foe from doing whatever by simply throwing a jab forwards. But the jab was missing by a good mile and the fist of Karla would smash across the face of Sandra and throw the woman down hard. The world of Sandra went dark for a moment before she woke up on the ground again, facing the floor. The red haired American would spit some blood down onto the floor before she tried to crawl back up to her hands and knees. More bloody spit would run out over the lips of Sandra as the woman tried to stumble back up to her feet, crumbling back down over and over again… When she was finally standing she would walk in a curvy way over to her opponent, getting close and lifting her arm up like she wanted to throw a weak punch… but instead she suddenly grabbed her foes shoulder with the other hand and pulled the two together. Sandra threw her head forwards and delivered a huge headbutt onto the nose of Karla. She would throw herself forwards with as much momentum as she could trying to knock Karla out… After delivering that headbutt Sandra would stumble backwards herself and slowly lifted her head up to smile at her foe with a bloody row of teeth.

[Monsy]

Engaged, blow for blow; the ebb and flow of warfare between two women. Both unleashed a single salvo, bludgeoning each other’s faces. Neither was satisfied. Neither relented, charging ahead like bulls willing to maim themselves to destroy the other. Alas, Karla found glee. Enough to suit her blood-stricken mouth with a grin as both combatants charged once more, prepared to joust their fists. And with one jump, she gained the advantage, fist cocked and thrust forward like a steam-powered piston, their defence missing by miles, making them empty for a clean connection.

Her feet skipped upon the ground, grazing the rope until a balance reclaimed itself. One arm hooked the top, where she allowed her knees to bend inward and meet. Heavy breaths left in droves, the punching fist dangling in front, flexing digits that wound tight now unfurled. The numbness that consumed them felt like a high.

That grin didn’t dissipate.

Moreso Embellished by seeing them lying there. Did they fall asleep? Keh, if only she could see their face. Although, the question answered itself.

How they lumbered up, spat, then fought for their stance. It proved admirable to keep onward after a debilitating strike. Perhaps she liked them, albeit only a little, not enough to spare the mockery of her laugh that filled the ring’s atmosphere.

She beckoned them again with one hand, stalked their movements and unhooked from the ropes, bouncing from foot to foot. Her left slid back, donning a southpaw stance. And now, she stood ready, laying in wait for Sandra, who teetered like a meandering river. Once that arm swung, laid upon her shoulder, their eyes met. Even for a moment, the delay proved all it could tell. And thus, her right arm, bent, raised to press against their throat, absorbing the forward momentum as Karla’s head leaned back, slipping out of range.

Intensity sparked inside those eyes, a flame that seeped into her growl. Her left fist lowered, readied and clenched until sweat lined the creases inside her palm. Then with a yell, Karla swung an uppercut that packed her total strength, now homing for their jaw.

[xalex]

Blood and salvia were sent flying upwards into the air. It looked like a little fountain for a moment as Sandra´s head would snap into her neck and the woman would stumble one big step backwards. She would look up into the ceiling lights with glassy and empty eyes not moving while looking up. Then her whole body just collapsed and Sandra fall back down to the floor. This one uppercut turned out the lights for Sandra for good. She fall down flat onto the mat not moving not making a sound, just laying there with a river of salvia running over her check and onto the mat. Her eyes were open but looking into the far distance.
The whole crowed jumped up and cheered loudly for Karla as she had seemingly knocked Sandra out cold.

[Monsy]

One fist proved the decider. Its path unchallenged; the strength so volatile it laid waste. A single crack as bone meant bone; the orchestra of violence reaching its crescendo, climaxing, then plunging into silence. And thus, Karla’s opponent lies belly-up, the expression making for a delectable treat. Her grin fuelled by the blood, her eyes as well, the crowd’s sudden pop earning her gaze. She won this through pain, blood and sweat. Not by pandering charisma, but prowess; unmatched, at least in her mind. And culling the lights of one, Sandra Taylor proved the stepping stone of that will - one moment she needed to crown with a pinfall.

So, she took to it. 

Her frame collapsed over their midsection, stomach crossing stomach; arms hooking their far leg, pulling it up, where she rolled and smothered their face with a toned leather-cloaked back. 

“ONE!”

“TWO!”

“THREE!”

Like that, the bell sounded, igniting the crowd with hoots, hollers and cheers. She rolled to her knees, releasing the limb and punching the mat, then raising that fist towards her mouth and releasing a slow breath over the knuckles. Joined by the referee who raised her right arm, she swiped it away and crawled on all fours towards her opponent. Velvet hairs draped like a curtain all around, obscuring their faces from the audience. Fixed curls would poke Sandra’s cheek, and Karla’s bloodied smile seemed so very satisfied.

“Kehheh, you were actually fun. Til’ next time, American.”

One hand raised and blew a kiss before she rolled once more, continuing until her feet kissed the outside mats. Once there, she ascended the ramp, nursing an aching jaw while fixing her hair that gone chaotic during the bout. Alas, through battle, Karla “Ray” Reinhardt leaves with her head held high and ego unchecked.