Pain or Paradise: Tia Langray vs Miss Paradise

[The Riders]

Slowly little by little the little brat is starting to earn Tia respect. She sees the fight Thea is willing to do just to prove her wrong in this match no matter how badly of a chance she has. Even more respect seeing the girl get to her feet even yelling out that she still going to try and fight, that fighting spirit allows Tia to see her opponent in a different light.

Tia let's out a loud grunt from Thea knee slamming into her stomach, the impact and blow forces her forward before falling into her knees clutching her mid section. 'Not bad.."

[Monsy]

Struck like upon a drum, her knee found its home. Shame it came at such a high price. But, as the initiative found its way onto her doorstep, her opponent left nursing a wound upon her knees. No mistakes, alas, no mistakes, and things will go the way of Paradise!

“Hah, yeah! Gotcha there, didn’t I?” She said, voiced with cheer and embellished spirit that seeped into her smile. Without further hesitation, she approached and attempted to envelop their head and apply a frontal face-lock. Wetted lips curled inward as she tried to raise the Breaker onto her feet once more, then to drop them upon their crown with a DDT!

[The Riders]

Tia let's out a low groan that knee stomach made her toned strong abs break, there a feeling in her chest as if she may lose to this little upstart and that makes her smirk and grin at the thought of that happening.

Her head grabbed by her opponent and yanked to her feet by Thea. Not able to block or counter in time as her head is spiked into the canvas with a DDT move, as she falls onto her back clutching her head from the move. 'UUUHGHHH"

[Monsy]

Blessed with momentum, she hastened her pace and delivered the DDT. Once her back kissed the canvas, she threw a leg over and turned, whipped back to her feet, where she peered downward with a peppy grin. Once her glee subdued, she looked towards the ropes and exploded into a sprint. She leaped from the canvas, planted her feet up on the middle rope, her legs coiled like springs as she grabbed the top. Then she cast off and soared, her back arched like a crescent, legs that flew towards the ceiling and over, arms that reached for glory in her descent to moonsault the Breaker and further cement her control.

[The Riders]

Thinking to herself while laying prone on the canvas " This little brat is actually pretty good... still can use work but she is getting better the longer the match goes on... color me impressed." as she sees Thea going to the top up with her back facing her already knowing what she going to do, but she is willing to take a massive risk. Tia is going to let Thea moonsault land cause she is going to snag the girl in a submission hold, as soon as she tries to get to her feet. "OOOPPMMHHH" her limbs shoot up from Thea stomach and slams into her own laying prone on the canvas.

[Monsy]

Question not how the eagle soars! Or… Moonsaults! It bore a hefty weight, with her momentum at stake, the crowd’s awe and the continuance of her morale. She needed something to stick. To hurt, slow down, and silence this woman who ridiculed her like a coach, served only to fuel the vigour that launched into the air.

She felt her stomach tighten and knot when she landed, her next breath shot like a cannon and a tingling numbness fizzled in her gut. Her head dipped for but a moment, sucking in the air; her body tensed, then relaxed as she turned to one side and scooped up a leg with one arm to attempt a pinfall!

[The Riders]

Her opponent had a lot spunk to pull off a move like that. It feels like a truck slammed into her chest knocking the wind out of her body forcing her to curl up clutching her stomach from the impact. Waiting to see if she be able to pull it off after all.

Feeling her leg being scooped up and hooked for a pinfall attempt, Tia moves when Thea is more relaxed and not expecting something like this at all. Jerking her body forward and her hands reach out to grab head and neck area, trying to place the woman in a sleeper hold.

[Monsy]

After that successful moonsault, Thea’s body paid a gritty price but reaped a mental reward. She was confident once more and flashed a grin that could pierce the thousands. Hopeful, yes. She was hopeful. Even though her pin attempt was bound to be broken, there was a sense of joy in it.

Though Tia escaped, the rebuttal came as a shock. An arm around her neck, a pain to fluster her throat into sweet silence, a sense of panic filled her limbs and made them flail without mind. Now she scratch, pound and scrape at Tia’s body, wherever a pound of flesh lied undefended to punish. Just as the whimpers rained true, so would her resistance with gaped eyes and opened mouth, fighting for air.

[The Riders]

Being able to strike when her opponent pulled off a big move. That was always something Tia took pride in winning titles and frame like that, being able to lock in a hold just when her opponent was close to victory only to snatch defeat.

Trying to wrap her leg's around Thea mid section. Wanting to entrap and keep her opponent from behind able to escape the hold. "You put up a good fight but you will lose or I will choke you out your call. she growls out trying to keep the hold locked in tightly, but is starting to struggle due to how hard her opponent is trying to escape.

[Monsy]

A hand scraped Tia's forearm, and a boot thrust the canvas; aches fill her frame in-between. Her lynched neck blemished red like an infection and travelled upward towards her face. Cheeks filled like cannonades of air then misfired into a humble gag. Those eyes gaped and gained valleys of reddened veins that wettened and spilled, formed tears, then trailed down her head’s flank.

She could almost taste the mat with her knee before two legs encircled Thea’s lithe frame, which rendered her clawing mere defiance. There was no escaping now—nothing but hearing the patter of her heart-rate like rain upon a lake. And the swelling headache that numbed her brain like it was going to pop.

Her hands stretched towards the rope and rattled. Black spots dotted over her sight, expanded and consumed it all. When the last vestige of colour faded, Thea’s scrambles fell silent. Her eyes rolled into her head; a trickle of spit hung from her lip’s corner. And when the referee closed in, her hand was lifted, then dropped. Once. Twice. Finally, thrice.

The bell sang.