Match Type: Standard
Victory Condition: Secure victory via pinfall, submission, or KO.
Awaiting the start of her next bout, Selene bounced around on the balls of her feet and shadow boxed within the locker rooms. Dressed in her typical ring attire of a bikini with a cookie pattern, she fired jab after jab, each strike thrown with the same amount of speed, power, and precision as the last. During her pre-match ritual, a LAW official informed her that it was finally time. With an eager smile, she capped off her exercise with a superman punch, rolled her shoulders, and headed for the arena. Appearance Reference
Entrance Theme
The first crescendo dropped just as she entered the stage. She held fist raised up high paired and wore a self-assured grin as she basked in the cheers of the audience. Then she fired a flurry of strikes which ended with an uppercut. Keeping her uppercut suspended in the air, she tensed her muscles and flexed her bicep for the crowds.
She was just as hyped as the audience was as she marched down the ramp, unwavering confidence characterising her stride. Via a single leap, she scaled the ring apron before she leapt again to clear the ropes. Now inside the ring, she raised her fist once more and walked around the ring. Her entrance complete, she strode towards a corner and made herself comfortable as she waited for her next opponent to appear.
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A brown fingerless arm sleeve sheathed Evelyn’s left arm. Her second fingerless-gloved hand jockeyed with its lace that sat at the elbow’s crook, and bared teeth cinched and pulled the end tight and married happily between her four lithe digits into pigmented bunny ears, looped, pulled under and yanked into position. She already downed her cropped coat, blue with a red stripe around the collar and down the arm, decadent in white stars. Not much else donned her, apart from what’s necessary to stride the LAW Arena's grey and blue cement halls. An eight-legged draft crawled up her exposed back and legs, stopped only at the crop jacket’s hem that opened just around her bikini-swathed breasts, donned in red and white stripes, and star-spangled on the other; rose and white daisy. Another draft crept along the small spillage of fluff around her thigh highs - one matched her crop jacket’s design, that red centre strip spoke it true, topped off by black trim while the other was a brown sheath that folded over at the top, much like her left arm. Both led towards the same brown boot that skipped in hymn towards Gorilla position.
The cue is given.
No light fixtures, gadgets or smoke, but the raw rhythm and lyric. Evelyn skipped out when the song reached its first verse, hands glued to the brown leather belt that squeezed her hourglass shape and its golden buckle that nestled into her smooth-bore core. The ranks of the audience never seized to make her far-sighted and give her a taste of vertigo in an endless expanse. She couldn’t help skip down the rampway. A sashay rocked each hip, a white-flame ponytail danced abaft while her left hand extended outward to kiss the open palms as she came to ringside and lapped it once, ended when she took that first step onto the rampway.
“Alright…” She took a deep breath in, eyed her adversary and found sweat lick that brown collar around her neck. There was padding inside her chest like rapid trickles upon the stream. “Time to light it up….” She scaled the steps, put her side against the ropes, and weaved a leg betwixt then her body and other leg. That gaze didn’t leave her opponent until she walked towards the corner, scaled the middle turnbuckle and drew finger-guns. An arm cocked by her head and thrust skyward as her other hand came forward to loosen a round, “Bang!” A short noise lifted the crowd, then died down with her music. She spun around with a lap, landed flat on the canvas, and skipped once to take the centre-ring.
“Hey, hey! I’am Miss Fallacy. Here’s to an excellent and fair match, mmk?” A fist came forward to offer but a semblance of sportsmanship. Be it win or lose. Appearance
"Hahah, I like your spunk." Selene chuckled as she approached her opponent and reciprocated the fistbump. "And here's to still being friends after I kick your ass." After all the small talk, she returned to her corner and resumed bouncing on the balls of her feet as she eagerly awaited that most anticipated ringing of the bell.
As soon as the bell did ring, the bronzette exploded forwards, sprinting full speed to close the distance between herself and Evelyn in an instant. Selene took advantage of her inexorable momentum combined with her own devastating striking power to attempt a skull shattering kick. As soon as she was in range, she lifted her right leg up and executed her signature move, the S.T.A. (running big boot). Invariably, the target of the boot was none other than Miss Fallacy's face.
When their fists kissed, there was little stopping the small ‘boom’ effect made with the simple pop of her lips, then wagged her four fingers as she retreated in turn. The threat fell onto deaf ears until it suddenly echoed within her brain. Her bottom lip tucked beneath her upper, then they both wound tight until it ached and her back touched the turnbuckle. Right, all friends kick each their asses at some point, yeah? Except, perhaps it would be better if it’s verbally than getting tossed. Oh well…
Her eyes wavered towards her boots; one arm gripped the other before the bell rang. The stampede of stomps ripped her attention, and she’d find only enough time to collapse towards the canvas, where a hand gripped the ropes and yanked her away. Knees and hands scrambled in a disco-ordinated abomination, and she threw herself into a forward roll just to reclaim her footing, then ran to their flank about a foot away. Her hands came up to beckon them, soon as they turned around, she leaped and offered her rebuttal with two boots thrust towards their chest.
Surprisingly, Evelyn possessed the presence of mind to react to the incoming big boot as well as the dexterity to duck and dodge roll out of harm's way. Selene couldn't help baring her teeth through an excited grin as she turned to face her opponent, just in time to register the dropkick poised to stike her squarely on the chest.
Reacting quickly, she attempted to side-step before catching Miss Fallacy mid-kick and using her forward trajectory to spin around a full one hundred and eighty degrees to plant her onto the canvas for a brutal spinning back suplex. As always, Selene exerted as much downward force as possible when executing the suplex for maximum damage. Spinning Back Suplex Reference
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Her boots thrust the open air and found nothing but dust. Hands found her frame and suspended as she clenched her teeth. Both cheeks flushed whites; those magenta eyes gaped as her arms flailed to grip something. Squeals poured as the spin took her, stole her sense of direction then returned it when she was dropped. Her shoulder blades were first to punch the canvas, and this stinging infection of pain swarmed down her spine with molten fingers, gnawed on the back of her head, squeezed her neck and turned the canvas beneath her lower back into lava. She arched and folded an arm there, and her eyes stitched shut - mouth wound tight to mutter muffled whimpers. A fist pounded the ground to her left; a knee brought up while the other leg lifted and struck the canvas twice in a heavy manner like they were sandbags...
Selene's counter went off without a hitch, with the crushing force of her spinning back suplex leaving her opponent sprawled out across the mat. Of course, she didn't let up on her offence. She forced Evelyn to sit up by pulling her by the arm. From there, the Japanese tucked her head underneath her foe's right arm and cinched her own right arm across the American's chest while the left arm held onto her back.
Her human package tightly secured, Selene deadlifted Evelyn to her feet before rushing forward a couple steps, jumping, and slamming her right down in the centre of the ring. Much like the previous slam, Selene applied as much downward push as possible when performing this particular throw, one of her signature moves, the 'S.S.S' (Running Side Slam). Side Slam reference (though with some running forward)
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The brain needed about ten to twenty milliseconds to register the world and make a move, but Selene brought it seemed. Her arm became spaghetti within the grasp; her weight like hollow dough as they hauled her up on hollow legs. She hunched against their shoulder, lifeless eyes stared yonder as her other arm dragged and something warm secured her bit by bit. There wasn’t much keeping her upright, at least until it moved, dragged her boot heels across the ground and lifted beyond the canvas where the only thing real became the slam they delivered. Her organs banged the roof of her skin, sent shuffling about as she cried out, arms splayed straight outward in a T; legs corralled as one, boots pitted outward as she heaved in a breath with tears in her eyes. Something stung inside her back. She was being stabbed, again and again. Every second pierced the skin, tissue and minced her nerves into a surrender that rendered her motionless. What more can pain do? Keep you down so it minimized the pain. Though the match was at stake, they left her to drool in her suffering, barely able to lift the shoulder, nor the heart to cry beyond what seemed a puppyish whimper.
"Well now, still think it's great?" Selene casually remarked as she sprung back to her feet after brutally smashing Evelyn onto the canvas. Looming over her incapacitated opponent, the bronzette let out some light laughter before she pulled Miss Fallacy to her feet and irish whipped her to the ropes. If she rebounded off the ropes as planned, she would stumble helplessly into Selene's grasp who would suddenly hoist Evelyn sky-high via a gorilla press pop-up. And just before she started her descent, her neck would be caught within the jumping Japanese's arm, who sought to execute a jumping stunner. When the two made their inevitable landing, Evelyn would have her head rocked by Selene's steel-hard shoulder to complete her finisher, the "S.R.O.J." (pop-up stunner). Pop-up Stunner Reference
“...M…. eh?” The voice echoed within her empty mind space. There was so little to ponder beyond the white noise that rang and the force that pulled her up. The tug upon her arm made her head lurched back and threw her body into a sprint, moved by instinct, but not enough to spare her collarbone from the stiff rope that whipped her head forward and threw silver locks into a dance. Her foot swung around, hips twisted until she faced forward; melted into jello as she clambered on the edges of her feet, zig-zagged as her arms draped by her hips, only to collapse into Selene’s grasp. The canvas grew small; hair spilled down her back. Her arms twitched, fingers curled and shown signs of life when they seized her throat. “W-WAIT!”
She already flew; her hands and legs flailed for a few quick moments until her neck came under a second noose. The hammer of human-iron uppercut her jaw and nuked her brain, where it punched the roof of her skull so hard it could crack. What did she see other than the songbirds who laughed? Perhaps a grey blotch, tasted like sour and bitter blood and spoke in dilapidated roars. Her mouth hung to get a better taste, tongue lulled onto her lower lip. Eyes gaped to get a better look, though both senses fleeted the more she yearned. Her head sat upon a throne of a single wire, span around as she was on her knees, begging to see what’s ahead beyond that grey cancer that grew black, spread like gangrene and smothered her vision whole. That empty look stood its ground, limbs more useless than cattle. She’d collapse forward to kiss the canvas, face-first, dignity last, with little more than her hips that hovered from an arching back and legs that failed to sprawl.
