Isabella Brandt vs Scarlaheart - Tyrant vs Heir: Apex Qualifier Match

[Monsy]

HoH interaction that you can skip.

A wooden clipboard comes whipping down on Maria’s skull. The air clips and fizzles out with a sudden thunk. Maria’s eyes flickered, peered up, and spotted Adelaide as sharply dressed as ever. “Aaaaah. I was having a good dream.” Maria groaned, rubbed her eyes and pushed up. She was sprawled across three foldable chairs lined up against the other. The lack of padding made her spine crunch. Her hair was a frizzy scarlet fan, which Adelaide started to fix with a licked thumb. “Come on; it’s match time. This is your first time wearing this new attire, and you’re still the same sleepy girl.”

Karla emerged from around the corner. She wore a replicate suit to Adelaide, which she squinted at, then rolled her eyes and set a hand on Maria’s shoulder. “I didn’t know you had a dragon tattoo.” She said, leaning to the left to gander. Karolina stopped behind Karla; her size over her youngest was enough to swallow it whole. And behind her, Johanna peeked, whose height ate them all in a shadow. “When did you get that?” Karolina asked, and Johanna added, “There’s a dragon?”

Maria’s face flushed red. A hand went over her belly, and her forearm stretched lengthwise over her thigh. She didn’t know whether to explain, stand at attention for her mother, or be wholly enamoured by Johanna’s size. “C-Could you all please stop looking at my thigh and stomach?? I had it for a long t-time!”

Adelaide laughed, “Alright, Blushing Princess. Time to move.”

She grabbed Maria by the arm, pulled her up, then gave a light pat on the back to make her scamper forward.

Scarlaheart’s theme was a slow-build on tonight. A total rebirth, something that was her own for a change. It was quiet, had a rhythm of choir voice mixed with lyrics, and grew into a metal instrumental melody. She emerged from the back, dressed in a two-piece. Black booty shorts with a cropped jacket, red at the collar with golden trim, a scarf to cover that neck, with a bit of collar emerging at the top. Those sleeves led to her black gloves. One fingerless, the other was complete. A dragon’s tail spiralled up her left thigh, hour-glass hips, and across her flat stomach, and the other limb donned a thigh-high.

attire stuff

theme thing. nightwish go brr

She marched down that ramp, her elbows at her sides, forearms out, palms face up as she looked left and right. It didn’t change how they reacted much; it was still the same brat to them—the same girl who mocked the competitors and the fans with her attitude.

There wasn’t anything theatrical about her appearance, nor an effort to do anything but walk. In Maria’s mind, it was more than they deserved who could keep this slow pace to draw out their pain, like the edge of a knife on an open wound, freshly bit by peroxide. When she came to the steps, she swung a leg up, cupped her ear and listened to the nearest shout. HURRY UP! They cried out, and Maria swung her other leg to take the second step. She cupped her other ear and then repeated it to reach the apron. An arm hooked over the top rope, then the second to face the audience, where she struck that entrance pose once more. Her elbows at her sides, forearms pointed forward, palms up, and that shit-eating grin was its jewel—another knife across that treated wound.

“COME ON! Where’s my noise?!” She laughed, then kicked up, her shoulders flipped over the top, and Maria’s feet scampered to plant a crooked landing, her legs crossed, feet stood on their edges, and her hips dipped low to the canvas, supported only by those hands which clutched the top, which she used to pop up straight and take her corner.

[Devastated]

Tonight was a grand day. A day to remember for a long time to come, a day that would go down in history as a legendary day. Today was the day when Isabella Brandt - The Flame Tyrant made her debut in LAW. She was already a fairly established wrestler in Europe by this point, of course it paled to the wrestling scene in Japan in general, but that was still no small feat...yet she had traveled far and wide to come here at the behest of her friend and rival Trinette Vaillant and her new manager.

She found herself in her locker room where Trinette had visited her right before she had finished putting on her ring gear. Unashamedly as she was over her physique, Isabella had simply continued to put on her attire as Trinette paid her this visit.

"Feeling nervous about your match?" The bluenette asked her, but Isabella simply shrugged her shoulders. " Being nervous is a given isn't it? To be uneasy before a battle is what that keeps a warrior alive." Isabella spoke, as she would finish up lacing her boots. " Though I feel like excited is a better word for what I'm feeling." Isabella spoke with a confident tone.

Trinette would nod her head and then give her friend a pat on the back. " All you've got to do is your best."

The blonde straightened up slowly after Trinette's pat, " You might as well just tell me to win. Which is a given as well." The confident woman spoke as she would stomp her boot down from the bench and onto the floor, moving her foot about a bit to make sure that she had laced her boot up tightly enough that it didn't hinder a single bit of movement. She would not have any part of her gear be the fault of any mix ups or mistakes in the upcoming battle. " I'm off then." Isabella said as she headed off, " Break a leg!" Trinette shouted after Isabella as she left the locker room but got only a small chuckle from Isabella as a response as she headed out of down to the ramp.

Music began to blast out of the speakers as the power rock of Freedom Call summoned the Flame Tyrant of Verona. Isabella stepped out onto the ramp and presented herself, wearing that red, black and dark gold attire. Her air curled into two drills at the front. She got a surprising cheer from the crowd, one that she didn't expect...but few of them knew much about her. It seemed mostly to be a cheer based on the dislike of her opponent, a slight smirk formed on Isabella's face as she began to walk down them ramp. Marching down towards the squared circle in a calm and confident manner, holding her head high through the trek to the ring.

Spoiler

Once she reached the ring she would start to ascend the stairs and walked along the apron and gazed out at the crowd. She lowered herself and slipped in under the top rope and got into the ring. Her gaze slowly turning away from the crowd and to the redhead opponent of hers. As her music began to die down, she would give Scarlaheart a once over, her eyes remaining on the dragon tattoo for a few seconds and then she brought her gaze up to the girl's cute face. " I have to thank you for this opportunity. I haven't slain a dragon yet but with you hear I can mark that off of my bucket list." Isabella cockily spoke out as she would step forward towards the center of the ring, placing her right hand on her hip and letting the other arm stretch towards her opponent, curling her finger to gesture for Maria to join her in the center of their battlefield.

[Monsy]

One leg over the other, her back lounged into the pads, and both arms folded. The crowd’s roar to her opponent’s entrance made her scoff and ground the gears inside her head. She looked to the front row, flicking her index finger at them, then to the entering Isabella Brandt. “Really? You’re going to cheer a girl with twirling blonde curls?” Her eyes tumbled inside its socket, and she continued to wait, watching, tilting her head occasionally like a teetering boat, yet remaining in her corner for them to take the ring with the Reinhardt heir. She pushed up a forced lopsided smile. The beckon met with a dead stare, and even a small chuckle, pointing to them again while looking to the front row.

“Alright…” A hand for either top-ropes, pushed and sent Maria forward. Her left leg careened up and took a giant step; her right in tow, dragged past her left. Both arms stretched over-head in a wide V, her chin tipped up, and she yawned with a gaping mouth. Those eyes cascaded, wiped dry by a few rapid blinks, and now she stood before her opponent, so dead a little bit of decay seeped in the iris, and perhaps a gander into the afterlife was inside that sclera. She pursed her lips, hands pocketed in her short-shorts, shoulders slumped back. “Does your bucket list include french-kissing the canvas? Because I’ll make this feel like a third date.” A finger came up and pulled down the scarf to reveal her mouth.

“But that’s in the future. Let me introduce myself. Iam thee Maria Reinhardt." Her forearms pointed out, elbows to her body to present herself. "But you and the rest of these lessers call me Scarlaheart. Ok? Please marvel a little bit. It’s been a full hour since my last boot shining.”

[Devastated]

Isabella beckoned her foe towards her and as she saw her exaggerated movements accompanied by that droopy look on her face. Especially the eyes...seemingly glazed over before a few blinks cleared them up. Already the blonde could tell that this wasn't the type of opponent she was looking for. In fact it was the kind of opponent she couldn't stand. To her very core she hated slackers, people who didn't do everything they could to stay at peak condition.

Shaking her head a bit, she would watch as Maria began to flaunt as if she had something to flaunt. Tilting her head to the side and releasing a sigh. Isabella placed a hand on her hip and then cleared her throat. " Maria. Dear. How about you shut your moth for a minute." Isabella let in an icy tone. Her red eyes turned into a piercing glare that would throw daggers at the young woman.

It seemed as if Isabella's first match was one that would show off what bad attitude she could have. She would raise her arms and drop into a loose wrestling stance. " We shouldn't dally. My mood has already been ruined and I need an outlet."

[Monsy]

Maria's lips went air-tight and straightened into a line, listening to that cold response and the mocking of their stare. Does every wrestler have the same negligence for her status? Their words are always so much more callous than back home. This atmosphere lacked the proper respect for her to breathe. If only this were her home, she'd eject them without a second thought! For now, she huffed and watched them assume their stance; in return, Maria threw her hands up in a shrug, pointing to herself. "Your mood?! What about mine?! I didn't crawl out of bed to be your outlet, I am too important for this! Ref! Call me back when you tame this lesser's, er, m-ooo-whatever…"

Her thumb pointed at them when she turned to chastise, then looked over-shoulder, stuck her tongue with closed eyes as she walked in the other direction. "Bitch." Then, she continued to walk with seemingly no end, grabbing onto the tope-rope and throwing a leg over the middle before letting herself fall. Her hip bumped the apron, and she turned over onto her feet, stumbling into a barricade like a bad drunk. The crowd heralded a jeer as Maria pushed her hair back, then went onto the ramp, rolling her shoulders and stretching her arms overhead as she inched to her exit.

[Devastated]

The blonde had already started to drop down into her wrestling stance, raising her arms up and getting ready to square off with her opponent. She would be somewhat confused as Maria raised her arms up and began to complain. Tilting her head to the side as she would start to straighten up again. Looking on at Scarlaheart as she threw a bit of a tantrum. Then she would watch as she turned her back on her, insulted her and then moved out of the ring.

Letting out a deep sigh. Isabella would shake her head, as she watched Maria stumble her way and into the barricade. She watched as she began to ascend the ramp and with that Isabella had enough of this tomfoolery. She dropped and rolled out of the ring, before swiftly closing the distance between her and Maria. Grabbing those shorts and a handful of hair as she would yank and pull Maria along with her. Turning them around and rushing them towards the ring apron as she would try and toss Maria in under the bottom ropes.

Isabella wouldn't waste any time in making her way up onto the ring apron, before trying to use the ropes to jump off of them and back into the squared circle. Aiming to land leg first over Maria's chest with a springboard leg drop!

[Monsy]

She just didn’t this.
There wasn’t any fun in an opponent that didn’t play into her word games. It wasn’t entirely frustration, but a paired dejection that swam inside her eyes and weighed her body down until she had somewhere to lie down and let life pass her by. Now was just another instance, where she’d leave the opportunity to rekindle her spirit inside the ring for something easier. What was she used to. Not afraid of. So she’d take those steps, but soon found the hem of her shorts yanked, hair snatched and her feet bumbled around to keep upright, then thrown inside the ring where she’d roll and lie chest-up inside the ring’s heart. Her lonely gaze looked up, an arm across and the other sprawled outward. “Not this again…”

The legs came down and crushed her into an A-cup, “GUH!” Spit flung as her mouth gasped to release all the air that rushed her throat at once. Her feet kicked up, hips rolled and lower-back curled, then slammed back down. She was left in a pant, dizzied as her head swivelled back and forth, and her arms more deceased of action than a corpse.

[Devastated]

Isabella jumped off of the ropes and came flying down, crashing legs first across Scarlaheart's chest and knocked the air out of her lungs. Flattening her down against the canvas as the referee new frantically called for the bell! The match was officially underway, even if Maria may not want to face off against her, here and now it was now official. It was on.

The Flame Tyrant would push up to her knees and grab a handful of Scarlaheart's hair. Guiding her up towards her feet as she herself rose to a stand. The blonde would next try and keep Maria docile by trying to smash her knee into that taut belly. Aiming squarely for the head of the dragon tattooed upon her. Trying to double her foe over. The Veronan would next try and pull that head in under her right armpit, swinging Maria's arm up over her neck, and then grabbing at those shorts. Hiking them up a bit as she would try and pop her hips and lift the redhead upside down in the air for a brief second....before falling backwards to slam her down with a standard vertical suplex!

[Monsy]

This was morphing into a mess. The woman weighed like a bag of dense boulders. Her chest was flat, her ribs bore the shock and the pain followed right behind it. Dizziness sunk in as she was left breathless, like she’d been without it for over a minute and was just getting it back. She didn’t move and the grab at her hair became the perfect incentive to close her already heavy eyes and slack with their influence. “Buhhhhh… Do you attack… EVERYONE before the bell?”

She snailed through her words. They were breathy and quiet as she mounted both feet. Her legs tickled from the exertion, and that knee woke her right up. Eyes went wide, mouth ajar with spit flinging out. “PUHH!” She folded over the limb like a jointless puppet. The dragon’s head was sufficiently bludgeoned and the whole tattoo danced as she flexed her tummy in and out from heavier breathing. Now she was putty, trapped underneath her armpit, an arm over their nape, a hand on her hip and all the blood rushing to her head as they went high. Maria’s hair draped and she looked around, closing her eyes again as they came forward and pain spanked her spine. She choked on that yelp, teeth clenched up like a drum as did her eyelids wrinkle and lips knit together. “Nnnghhh.” A hand nursed into her back as she turned on her hide, allowing her cheek to mould into the canvas and her mouth to loosen to take long draws to re-gather strength. Both legs piled on each other and just moved around, kicked little bits to co-exist with the pain.

[Devastated]

Isabella was rather ruthless when it came to reluctant opponents. People who didn't take this whole thing seriously and put in the appropriate amount of work was something that the blonde had no desire to let slide. As someone who worked hard for everything she had achieved and kept working hard day in and day out to stay in perfect shape and keep her mind focused...she had a certain dislike for people who thought they could just skate by.

She may even have a compulsive need to beat and humiliate those kinds of people when they tried to spout their nonsense before her. Which was why she chose to be so aggressive as she was against Maria. Hammering the belly of Scarlaheart before then picking her up and introducing her to the canvas with that suplex!

Pushing up to her knees, the blonde would let out an exasperated sigh. Moving up and trying to push Maria down onto her front and pin her to the canvas. She would try and raise her lower body up into the air, while her hands would grip onto the shoulders of the redhead. Looking to keep her pressed down against the canvas. Isabella then decided to thrust her lower frame forward and aim to hammer her knee into the side side of Maria. Driving her knee into her frame, and then pulling back to repeat the action, over and over for a set of three knee thrusts.