[Standard Match] Charlotte Ravel' vs Ember Days - Lightning is always followed by thunder

[skip-stop]

Match type: standard
Victory conditions: pinfall, submisson, knockout, disqulification

“One more thing,” Victoria said, putting the folder with documents aside, “you need to get a Twitter account.”
"What?" Charlotte asked, continuing to send punches into the punching bag.
“Well, Twitter is a social network, there people are usually…” the manager began with obvious sarcasm.

Charlotte sent one last hard punch into the punching bag, ending her warm-up. Taking a deep breath, she turned and looked at the Englishwoman. She might have a bad sense of humor, but she was great sarcasm skills, so she immediately recognized the mockery in her manager's words. In addition, it didn't seem that Victoria was trying to hide her attempt to make fun of the young woman.

“I know perfectly what Twitter is,” Charlotte said in a slightly cold voice, “I mean, why do I need a Twitter account? I am a fighter, not a media person."
“I could say that I’m your manager and that my job is to get you to the top of the roster, so you’ll do what I say,” Victoria said more sternly, adjusting her glasses, but then her the voice softened again, “but let me explain it differently. How did the audience meet you during your debut?"
"I..." Charlotte wasn't expecting such a question, "pretty warm I suppose."
“Exactly,” Victoria nodded, “not every debutant gets such a warm reaction, and looking at you, I'm sure that the audience’s interest in you will only grow. Perhaps you have not understood this yet, so I will say, the path to the top cannot be made without the love and support of the audience. And I'm sure that when you truly feel their support, you will want to reciprocate. So please get a Twitter account.”

The pink-haired woman wanted to say something, but then glanced at the watch. It's time. She nodded to the Englishwoman and, receiving a nod in return, left the locker room. She walked down the long corridor, lost in thought of Victoria's words. Before now, she didn't have to think about things like popularity. She has spent her last years traveling the world. And when she decided to settle in Japan, she did not yet know that her path would lead to LAW.

Therefore, the young woman was slightly discouraged by the words of her manager. She did receive a warm response from the audience during her debut, but so far she was not sure what would happen next. Her stable and measured life began to turn into something new and the pink-haired woman had a lot to figure out. She stopped in front of the curtains. Be that as it may, now a new match with a new rival was waiting for her. Charlotte took a deep breath. She was ready.

Entrance Music

Attire

Her dynamic music began and the Sand Lizard came out from behind the curtains. She sent three punches into the air in time to the music, and then raised both hands above her head. She had some concerns about the reaction of the audience, somewhere deep down she was worried that she received a warm reaction last time just because it was her debut. But all these worries dissipated at the moment when applause and an approving noise flew towards the Frenchwoman. It made her smile, even though she tried to keep her cool.

The martial arts master started down the ramp, continuing to smile and wave at the audience. Astrid told her that if they became popular, it wouldn't be enough for fans, and that someday they would be walking down the ramp while signing posters and making selfies. It sounded very unnatural for Charlotte, but Astrid knew what she was talking about, because in Europe she was a pretty popular MMA fighter. The pink-haired woman sped up and rolled under the bottom rope.

Charlotte jumped to her feet and headed to the center of the ring. Taking some speed again, Charlotte put her right foot to the left of her left foot, her body began to turn to the left, she pushed off the mat, swinging her right leg. During her debut, the audience really liked her first spinning kick, so now she decided to please them with an equally spectacular tornado kick. To the sound of applause, the Frenchwoman gracefully landed on her left leg right in the center of the ring. She raised her right fist above her head to greet the audience one last time before the match began.

When the music ended, she greeted the referee and headed to her corner. Leaning back, she put her hands on the top ropes. She shouldn't have thought about it now, but she couldn't deny that she was pleased with the attention from the audience. Perhaps Victoria was really right. But the Sand Lizard was going to think about it later. Now the match was waiting for her. Considering that even during the debut, she and her rival gave each other everything they had, now Charlotte was expecting an equally tough confrontation. It remains only to wait for her rival.

[Monsy]

Ember sat cross-legged in an ebony foldable chair, gazed down at her hands. One had their fingers outstretched but clammed together, and the other rolled white tape over her knuckles. It was the middle of a locker room with blue carpets, lockers and white-brick walls. Benches lined the edges, same with coatracks and duffle bags, cracker crumbs, the smell of defeated sweat and the occasional punch of perfume. The door was a loud specimen that cried on its hinges. You’d think it first-degree murder when Alan walked through that door. A sharply dressed man with slicked-back grey hair and a bowler hat.

“Whatcha doin, squirt?” A sharply dressed man named Alen Baker leaned on her shoulder from two feet out, propped on the edge of his foot, his weight blunted on Ember’s collar, who continued on with low growls of concentration. “Tryna put this shit on.” Alen looked with a quirky brow, “Why?”

Ember bit a section of the tape pulled, and thrashed her head like some small dog who bit its first snake. There were snarls, long pulls and when it ripped, there were coils of tape, crumbled, loose, overlapping and hyper-stretched up her forearm. “Fucker… Uh, I dunno, to put some chloroform on it and smother the gal unconscious like in that netflix show where a balding fatso knocked out a murderer in a Panamian prison in a deathmatch. That cool?”

“Oh! If you’re looking to line your mitts, you should try-”

“Nah. I’m just doin’ it because Levia is worried about my knuckles getting too many bruises. She’s thinks I’ll get arthritis when I’m older and wouldn’t be able to open any more fuckin’ crunchy peanut butter jars.” Ember rambled while cleaning off the excess tape, balling it in her fist, then sticking it to Alen’s suit. He didn’t mind; rather, he perked up at the ceiling to ask a question…

“Huh. I don’t think that’s how it works…”

“Who cares. I’m ready.” Ember stood, and Alen fell against the chair, which collapsed, his arm pinched between the backplate and seat, his chest thrust upon it and pinned the ensnared limb. He groaned, sat up and looked out, but Ember was already gone. Where? He could only assume. “Good luck, Champ!” He yelled and waved with his free arm.

Levia waited by Gorilla, leaned against the wall by a corner, arms folded, head-down, almost like she daydreamed. Ember walked by her, and Levia asked, “You got it on?” Ember jumped, heart nigh-jerked from its home, and her spine turned to spiders. “Christ.. Why are you so shadow-showy?” Ember asked, “Shadow-showy?” Levia replied.

Ember showed her hands, “Nevermind. Yeah, I got it.”

“Do you have a plan?”
“Mm, yeah, imma call it stupid style!”
“Stupid style? That’s freaking dumb…. Oh. Ah, I see, it’s iron-Where did you go-?”
"Bye!"

Theme

Attire

The sound of Ember’s music solved that riddle.
She bolted faster than she downed her booze, then leaped and slammed her feet on the stage’s lip, where she pumped her fist to the music’s boon, and strode the edge until both boots vestige on the ramp's incline. “Yeaaaaah!” The crowd roused their voices to her summon like she emitted an adrenaline gas that pumped blood at eight-hundred horsepower. She shaded her eyes and looked out to the rows, then bridged her hands from her chest, cracked them, jerked her head left, right, and stomped both feet again. “Let’s do it.”

One foot slid back, then boomed from its station to break into a sprint down the ramp, and explode again at ringside to take the apron! She straightened out, put two hands on the top rope, leaned back and slingshot her way over, her legs pressed together and whipped, and came underneath to catch her fall. A few more steps forward, and she stopped, a hand on her hip, a remastered grin that showed a preview of those pearly whites. She flipped her hair back and gave Charlotte a short wave from her distance across the ring. “Sup?”

[skip-stop]

Charlotte turned her head to the side as another piece of music started. And almost immediately, the right corner of her lips lifted slightly. Perhaps it only seemed to her that she was ready to swear that her rival's entrance was very similar to her own. The audience welcomed the red-haired woman very warmly and it was easy to notice that they enjoyed her confidence. Oh, she really was. The Frenchwoman saw it in every move of her rival.

And Ember did not take long to wait, she accelerated and literally flew into the ring, first jumped to the edge of the ring, and then used the top rope to soar into the air. It was very impressive and it caused a new wave of noise from the audience. It seems that this woman was able to interact very well with the audience. Ember seemed energetic and confident. Of course, it couldn't be said that Charlotte was looking in the mirror now. However, the Frenchwoman was ready to draw some parallels between them. And if this is at least partially true, then she was sure that this match would be great.

The pink-haired woman's eyes quickly ran over her rival. Charlotte and Ember were almost completely identical in height and weight. Both women were well-built and in excellent physical shape. And despite the fact that it didn't matter to Charlotte in the ring, she couldn't notice that Ember had an outstanding appearance. Her hair, her eyes, her face. There was no point in denying it, this woman was very beautiful. The perfect combination of strength and beauty.

The young woman pushed off from her corner and headed to the center of the ring in order to greet the red-haired woman. However, Ember took the initiative and talked to Charlotte first. Was this a good sign? Definitely. Especially considering that her words didn't sound like something like "get ready for me to kick your skinny ass!". Of course, Charlotte had never had to deal with something like this so far. But her friend, Astrid, told her that it is quite a common phenomenon here. And now the pink-haired woman was glad that she was waiting for a match with a rival who did not belong to those narcissistic bitches.

Charlotte stopped in the center of the ring. She clenched her right fist and pressed it against her straightened left arm. After which, the Sand Lizard bowed to her rival. The code of honor was an integral part of her life. She was sure that a real fighter not only can, but also must respect their rivals.

"My name is Charlotte Ravel'," she said, straightening up to her full height, "I hope we will have a good match. May the best woman win."

And with that, she extended her right hand forward, offering her rival a more classic handshake. She knew that many people perceived the bow as something strange. And Charlotte understood the reasons for this. She had heard enough about how not everyone here was ready to show respect to a rival. But the actions of other fighters did not really bother her. She was striving every day to become the best version of herself. And she saw nothing wrong with showing due respect to the opponent with whom she would have to face in the match.

If Ember had accepted the handshake, Charlotte would have given her a slight smile first, and then taken a few steps back, creating a space between them. The Frenchwoman was going to take a fighting stance. She raised her right fist to the level of her chin, while her left fist remained at the level of the middle of her torso. She put her right foot back a step and turned her left side slightly towards her opponent. The young woman took a deep breath and nodded to the referee, making it clear that she was ready. A few more moments and the bell will ring. She had no doubt that a tough match was waiting for her. But that's exactly what she wanted.

[Monsy]

Sportsmanship was lovely but a slightly rare flower in the field of pro wrestling. She too came accustomed to this in her rise, the rugged out-backs of whatever ring she could jump into, often a cairn for malice and foolhardiness. This was different. A professional scene was clean, something she still had to get used to, the crowds were miles away than what she experienced, and the competition was distinct in every faucet. It was love.

Her head tilted when they took the ring’s heart, bowed, then introduced themselves. The method made her smile, chuckle even, “You’re a little uptight, huh?” Her hand motioned in a circle, then dipped down, that forearm planted across her stomach, a foot slid back, and she bowed. Both hands pushed her hair back when she straightened, “Ember Days.”

She took their handshake offer. “Alright, sure. Lets keep the steel chairs out of this until the after-party.”

The two divided shortly after, and Ember trudged back three paces; her stance remained tall, shoulders slumped, arms draped at her sides. There’s no fancy stance for her avenue, but she was aware of the fault in that opener. The way they conducted themselves and the manner they stood when the bell rung; it told her everything, well, enough to make her move. She decided to drag her feet, then strafe; her left foot forward, an arm extended, and a claw-like grip ready to snatch them. That open hand lured closer, trying to see how they’d play with this offer, then Ember’s second hand came up, and she lunged to try and tie up collar and elbow. Should they come together, Ember tried to play her muscle, momentum and surprise to start pushing them back. One step at a time.

[skip-stop]

"Uptight?" Charlotte repeated, raising her left eyebrow slightly. "I wouldn't say."

But in any case, she was pleased to see that her opponent accepted both gestures from the Frenchwoman. The red-haired woman bowed in response, although it was easy to see that her bow was a little different, perhaps it could be called theatrical to some extent. But it didn't matter much, as it was more than enough for the Sand Lizard. Mutual respect was a rare thing in the ring, but for her, as a noble fighter, it was important. And then their palms joined in a more classic handshake. But even at that moment, Ember threw an interesting phrase that made Charlotte chuckle slightly.

"I wouldn't want things to come to this," she replied to the words about theafter-party with chairs, "there are much more pleasant ways to spend time, aren't there?"

Was it a joke or was she serious? Even Charlotte would hardly be able to answer this question. She had a bad sense of humor, but she also had a very impressive ability in sarcasm. Because of this, it was not always possible to understand how serious she was in some things. And was it even important at that moment? Perhaps not much, because after exchanging greetings, both women took their fighting stances. The referee girl, who received confirmation of the readiness of the fighters, waved her hand. The bell rang loudly.

Ding-Ding-Ding.

Taking another deep breath, Charlotte stepped forward. And on the second step, she was going to accelerate, but then she noticed her opponent's actions. And it definitely wasn't like Ember wanted to make things hot from the very first minute of the match. Instead, her arms were raised high and at the same time stretched forward. And it was very clear exactly what kind of invitation it was.

The Sand Lizard couldn't deny that pure force confrontation wasn't exactly her main specialty. A few quick punches or a sharp kick - that's her bread and butter. But could she really refuse such an offer? No, of course not. Something told the Frenchwoman that her rival deserved the martial arts master to agree. Charlotte smiled faintly and changed her stance, raising both hands higher and taking another step forward.

She grabbed the elbow and the back of the red-haired woman's head. And Ember did the same. At the same moment, the Sand Lizard felt the pressure. And, admittedly, the German-American woman had a very impressive power. Despite the resistance, Charlotte took a step back, and then another one.

"Not bad..." the Frenchwoman thought.

She took a deep breath and put her right foot back, thereby forcing herself to stop. The young woman looked into her rival's eyes, and then strained her arms and legs in response. Pure physical strength wasn't exactly Charlotte's best side, but even though she didn't have as much muscle mass as a bodybuilder, she was quite strong, especially in legs. And that's what she was going to use. With some effort, she was going to answer Ember's challenge and start putting pressure on her rival, trying to overcome her and force her to move back.

[Monsy]

“You’re totally upright, haha… I wasn’t being serious. Let’s just make this good!”

She cast a wink and stepped back a few paces, then bounced in place; her arms shook out, neck rolled side to side, and exhaled a final breath when the bell rang to ready and make her move. The opening tie-up was elementary, but the push was invaluable. Ember prided her strength since forever, with momentum and vigour as its central pillars to push, shove and feel progress through her sweat. It was her kingdom. Here the Queen ruled, inching them back two steps until they stabilized this front. Her hands all but welded themselves to their positions, one hand clawed the rear of their skull, the other, a handful of their collar. A lopsided grin swathed over her face, and she huffed out her nose like a bull. Their eyes met, and Ember, through her many tie-ups, knew the rebuttal was coming… She’d be ready to receive.

A foot pulled back, the heel of her foot postured up, and she’d suck in, hold it and then release when they offered first shove. “Heh…” Ember’s grin bore teeth. That back leg shivered as Ember’s weight relied further on her knee, and she began to slide. Strain tingled like electrical sparks, but she didn’t counter the push. It would be a waste to do anything more than to check their advance, as to recharge, wear them out and wait for an opportunity. One foot drew back, and Ember’s eyes moved to the left, then she snickered, and right, then again, she snickered. The second foot pulled back, this time in the direction of a corner. That foot stomped, and she locked her body; through strain and fire, she’d become the solid-led statue that shouldn’t be moved. Her brows now furrowed, that smile turned devilish.

Ember’s front foot retreated behind Ember’s back leg; the grip on their skull was now yanked for all its worth; her second hand switched to clutch their bicep, so in one twist, she’d throw her entire upper-body strength into pulling Charlotte around so she’d face the corner, then Ember would charge at them, full steam ahead to see if she can crush their back into the turnbuckle pads.

[skip-stop]

It took some effort, but the pink-haired woman was able to stabilize her position. Even though such a direct confrontation was not a major part of her style, she could still use her body and her willpower to surpass her opponent. Methodically increasing the pressure, Charlotte launched her own offensive. She felt perfectly well that Ember was not one of those who would retreat so easily, but the Frenchwoman was not looking for easy ways and she was ready to do what was necessary.

And at first it seemed that the martial arts master was making some progress. She managed to get Ember to step back. Although it was pointless to deny it, the red-haired woman was standing very firmly on her feet. Charlotte tried not to pay attention to the giggles that the German-American woman threw every now and then. It didn't matter if it was just a habit or if it was a way to make Charlotte lose concentration. At such moments, it is necessary to remain calm.

She was sure that in a few moments her opponent would gather her strength and they would stop. Considering that it was Ember who suggested this confrontation, the Frenchwoman was sure that the red-haired woman would decide to try to bring this matter to an end. But the Sand Lizard was wrong. Suddenly Ember decided to change tactics and instead of increasing the pressure, she let go of the back of Charlotte's head to grab her arm. Using the pink-haired woman's momentum against her, Ember directed her towards the corner.

"Merde..." thought the Frenchwoman.

In order not to crash into the turnbuckle with her chest, she was forced to turn around. Her back collided hard with the turnbuckle and the young woman painfully exhaled air. She really didn't expect Ember to decide to change tactics so abruptly. Although, of course, she couldn't be blamed, because it was a smart move. In addition, the red-haired woman had no intention of stopping, it was extremely clear due to the fact that she was rapidly approaching the Sand Lizard.

Charlotte grabbed the top ropes. Perhaps in a pure competition of strength, she wasn't the best. But now it was not about strength, but about speed and reaction. Realizing exactly what her opponent was up to, the Frenchwoman pushed off from the mat using her strong legs. She intended to lift her body into the air while bending her knees, and then push off from the ropes. She was determined to avoid her opponent's attack by literally flying over her.

And if she had succeeded, she would not have hesitated. As soon as the Sand Lizard's feet came into contact with the mat, she would turn around to face Ember. But only in order to put the left foot to the right of the right foot, thereby allowing her body to start spinning. The young woman intended to lift her right leg bent at the knee, and then use the acquired speed to straighten this leg and send a spinning side kick to the midsection of the red-haired woman!

[Monsy]

Step for a step, a shove for a push; the ebb and flow of progress and strength. The application always surpassed the base quantity; she took that to heart and gave Charlotte her first lesson in Ember’s not-so-real philosophy. For a spin, they went and crashed against the pads. Ember blitzed, an explosion off her feet to charge and bludgeon their body with her shoulder. Only the corner bore that force. That side bruised a scarlet tint. An eye flinched, and she turned around, Charlotte there to greet her.

“You’re fuckin’ slippery…”

Her back rested on the pads when Charlotte’s leg whipped into Ember’s stomach. What little fat Ember had there rippled. She bent over the limb, mouth emptied of spit that launched at the ground. Her arms hooked the top ropes to dangle, and she sucked in a deep breath. Nausea gripped her like an evil ex. Those muscles tightened like they crushed together, and it felt as it imprinted an exit wound on her lower spine.. An arm came across her belly, and one foot slid forward, her head dipped down, then back up, hair flipped back, and those eyes burned brighter. “I gotta learn that!” That arm across her gut lashed, seeking to whip them across the collar with a chop; her shoulder vested into the strike to maximize the payload.

[skip-stop]

"Slippery?" Charlotte repeated in her mind.

No one has ever described her like that. She got her alias the Sand Lizard from the masters who trained her in the Chinese monastery. And, of course, she got this alias for a reason. Due to the fact that she mastered many martial arts, as well she had excellent instincts, she was able to adapt to almost any opponent, just like a lizard that changes its habitat. Although, perhaps there was some truth in Ember's words.

But for the red-haired woman, it didn't change much. Charlotte was really fast. And although she had not yet demonstrated all the speed she was capable of, even that was enough to first dodge her opponent's attack, and then catch her off guard with a quick and powerful kick. Taekwondo was the most dangerous weapon of the martial arts master. The problem of the kicks was that most of them weren't fast enough. And because of this, many of them were predictable. But if the kick is used at the right moment, then the power of such an attack simply amazes the imagination.

And the fact that the German-American woman after getting the foot in her stomach literally doubled over, her mouth wide open, was the best proof of this. Charlotte removed her foot from her opponent's stomach and put it back on the mat. She was about to continue the offensive, because she was sure that after such a hard kick, Ember would need a few moments to recover and start breathing normally again.
However, this woman was once again able to surprise the Frenchwoman.

She not only almost instantly straightened up to her full height and threw a phrase in the direction of Charlotte, but also rushed to attack. The Sand Lizard clearly did not expect that her kick would have such a minor effect. And even before she had time to react to Ember's sudden recovery, a hard chop, into which the red-haired woman clearly invested a large amount of strength, crashed into her lower neck.

"Uggghhhh!" the young woman involuntarily screamed.

She took a step back, simultaneously covering her neck with her hands. It was a nasty burning blow that caused extremely unpleasant painful sensations, not to mention that it disrupted her breathing rhythm. A bright red mark was left on the lower part of her neck. Charlotte clenched her jaw and raised her head, looking at Ember with a certain amount of rage. If she was going to play that way, then Charlotte was going to test how well she could handle her own medicine.

Straightening up to her full height, Charlotte took a step towards her opponent, simultaneously moving her right hand to the left. Has anyone guessed yet? Yes, exactly. Right now, the Sand Lizard was about to send a hard knife edge chop into Ember's rib cage, right above her boobies. Charlotte was not a supporter of the principle of an eye for an eye and the like, but now it seemed a matter of principle.

[Monsy]

This was the art of the early match. Two wrestles sized each other up; nothing is given without something taken. Postures and strategies align, disassemble and then change. Pain was like a wall, and Ember’s resolve only got its first dent. It hurt, but it wouldn’t slow her down, so she rose and delivered that chop, if not to counter-offer what they’ve dealt, but try and dish it three times as hard. Try. Ember swung her shoulder so violently that her foot shifted from its post, and she stopped at a squared stance. Her hands landed on either knee, and she hunched, almost inviting that rebuttal that came into her rib. It felt like her chest exploded. The muscle swelled, throbbed and pulsed. She swung back, and her feet unhinged that slipped and fell back into the ropes; her back bounced as both arms hooked the top, and her chin dipped against her collar. A wince welded onto her face, and teeth ground like metal hydraulic presses that screeched together. Then she growled as her fists tightened white-knuckle. A grin started to bloom as she looked up to the Sand Lizard.

“Right! Now this is a fight!” Ember leaned further into the ropes to bounce, rebound, bounce, then spring from its holdings to rush Charlotte head-on, an earnest confrontation, with no fake nor illusion to dispel the one intention. She wanted to tie up again, lock one arm across their collar, another on the back of her head, then push with all the adrenaline in her blood, starting to bolster her muscle. That’s when Ember’s attack reached its second phase, with knee strikes primed with her pulled back left leg, shot forward like a steam-powered piston towards their stomach. It was hoped this duet of tactics would finally win one over, should they tie-up, and Ember could crush them against the adjacent ropes.