Mic Chick vs. Angelina Tarrant

[Dubski]

The crack rang out across the arena from the forearm shot Mic Chick waylaid onto Angelina's face. While Tarrant went down hard, Mic Chick managed to stop herself from tumbling over herself with one knee and her hand to the ground, grinning. She rubbed her cheek again where she took a backhand before looking back at the downed Angelina and brushed off her forearm with her other hand, watching her stand. "Wakey wakey, buttercup," said Mic in a sing-song tone, winking at Angelina as she got her wits about her.

The rocker didn't follow up, instead smiling at the girl and allowing her the opportunity to try to recover as best she could. Soon, Angelina began to stand, and Mic Chick started standing with her, grabbing hold of Angelina as the two helped each other up. She couldn't help but hide a smile still, having a great time with this currently hard-hitting fight. Her opponent really knew how to rev her up. But then, Angelina suddenly broke their hold and reared back before burying her fist directly into her gut.

"Guh..." sputtered Mic, staggering past Tarrant, walking around her as she held her ailing stomach. An incredible blow that absolutely sucked the air from her stomach. "God... damn girl... We're gonna have to kill each other," she said, flashing a quick smile and turning to face Angelina before turning and throwing her leg directly towards the midsection of Angelina with a stiff kick. Immediately after, Mic would stagger back a step, holding her own stomach again with a clear wince of pain.

[Monsy]

There was no time to sulk over wounds.
Her face became a hive for a small hodgepodge of strikes that left a lingering sting like bad breath. Some bones felt a little tight. Cheeks ached a little when she talked. Not much to keep her down forever, but enough to put some wobble inside her ankles. “Mmm, sure thing Mama Micster.” Said in the most teenage-like attitude.

When they entered their feet, the truce had ended and thus began round two. She shared their smile, whether it was enthusiasm to fight itself or the thrill the opponent gave. It was almost goading. Come at me, they said with their eyes, so Angelina did, and gave her punch all the lightweight might she had. It had awesome-pawsome effect. It was subtle and sweet as Angelina’s eyes soaked it up, flexing her gloved fist into splayed fingers, curling them in, and then stretching them out. “Killed by a rockstah would make one hell of an autopsy report, don’tcha’ think? Count me in, girl. All the way!” Angelina bounced on her feet as she watched them recoup and allowed no expense to her defence, wanting more and more of what they had. To take everything, then to beat it. Conquer it. This time - a stiff boot. Her almost non-existent tummy-fat rippled and she felt her guts tie up in little knots and yank tight. Something wet was inside her throat for but a second, and she groaned hard and deep as it came from her gut. “GUHH!”


Her footing stumbled, shoulders lurched, and hips pulled back. Back and back she went until her shoulder pressed into the ropes. When they bounced her back, Angelina exploded on her feet, running towards Mic Chick. She jumped and spun clockwise, a folded arm cocked shoulder height and armed like warhammer, aimed at bludgeoning their face with what was Angelina’s second signature strike - !Grater! - Spinning back elbow!

[Dubski]

"Death by rock n roll... ain't a bad way to go," said Mic Chick, hands on her tones stomach as she watched Angelina recoil from the hard kick she laid into her stomach. That blow had really gotten to her, and it took a lot of Mic's energy to even fire a shot right back. Gritting her teeth, she took the time to roll her head back, trying to grit through it. If she had the time, she'd take a moment to admire the tenacity of her opponent. But now, she needed to press on. She needed to pull through.

Steeling herself, Mic would then try to blot out the pain from her mind, although the labored breathing was a constant reminder of the pain she was in. And the rocker would then start at Tarrant. But the redhead was already running back at her. Not able to mount any kind of defense for it, Mic Chick was completely leveled with the Grater, her whole body going horizontal in the air from the absolutely punishing impact before she landed flat on the mat. Upon landing, Mic didn't even move for a few moments. The shock of it all stunning her. But then, the pain in her face kicked in. Her boot smashed on the mat repeatedly as she held her face in pain, letting out low groans of pain.

The rock star could barely cope with the sensation as she struggled, head throbbing now in conjunction with everything else. She was a sitting duck for her opponent as she laid on the mat, just struggling to cope, not even able to muster the strength to move or escape. Angelina had gotten Mic Chick with a big strike in their trade, leaving her now at a severe disadvantage.

[Monsy]

Any problem can be solved with stern elbows. The spin and run were just added joy, embellishing the payload with its momentum. Round one went to The Marauder, but she’d have no objections in trading with them again. The pain will be her medal! She landed on her heels and danced on them until her back sunk into the ropes. Both arms curled the top, tongue stuck out between her teeth, and she jumped, using her shoulders as the fulcrum to flip to the apron. It was one fluid motion like water going down its river. Once outside, she flexed her arm and gave that Grater-issuing elbow three slaps. “This jukebox just got anotha’ quarter, baby, lez take this high!” The arm wound up as she grabbed the top, leaned back and used the rebound to jump, pressing the bridge of her sneakers on the top. She relaunched herself, with momentum still on her tail, carrying her that few inches farther. The arm came down and hoped to spike them right in the stomach!

[Dubski]

Mic Chick laid on the mat, body jerking in pain briefly as she groans in pain. The elbow had just punished her an incredible amount as she could barely do anything but try to deal with the pain she was in while she laid on the mat. Her senses blotted and her energy sapped from that one blow, the rocker was in a world of pain. She hadn't even noticed that Angelina was already in motion again.

And then by the time she knew anything was up, the redhead had launched downward and absolutely blasted her in the stomach with her elbow! Mic gasped in agony and then began to buck and thrash wildly like a fish out of water, absolutely inconsolable as she rolled around, arms clutched on her stomach. She couldn't do anything but focus on the pain she was in, not even aware of where Angelina was now as she struggled, trying to take very difficult gasps of air, eyes clenched tight. It was clear that Chick was in serious pain now, and not able to do much about it.

[Monsy]

Angelina landed on her back and impaled them with her elbow. The bump rebounded her into a sitting position. A little sting bit into her spine and surrounding muscle. She stretched and folded her arm that punished, then rolled onto her hands and knees, eyes like a stalking predator, watching them buck, turn, twist and roll. An eye quirked with a crooked smile. This is what they signed up for, yeah? Some bruised guts never stopped a fight, and Angelina was hungry to test them. Sure, they had fire, but how much did that translate to willpower and drive to win? So, she’d hunt them without respite for herself or her opponent. “Hey, could you…” Angelina followed them on all fours, trying to place a hand on their shoulder. “Come on-... Mic!” She huffed and then threw herself so she’d flop over their stomach like a limp noodle. “Stay still, would ya? Her leg whipped over and hugged their opposite hip, then she sat upright on their waist, placing her hands on their shoulders in hopes to wrestle this little rockstar fish into a pinfall!

[Dubski]

Groaning and gasping in pain, Mic Chick was trying to cope with the agony of it all. The breathing was what she focused on most. If she could breathe better, she could at least stay in this thing. And, in time, Mic was thrown into her back again and covered by Angelina.

ONE!

TWO!

THR--

Throwing her all into shoving Tarrant off of her, Mic Chick sat up with her eyes wide, holding her stomach in pain with both hands. "Gaaaaah... Hrnnnnn..." sputtered the rocker, wincing as she was still having a bit of trouble taking breaths in, but showing no signs of quite right now as her eyes lit up in defiance. While she wasn't about to launch into offense just yet, she wasn't going to go down like that. She had too much left in her to give in just now.

[Monsy]

Angelina tumbled, rolling once before shoving the canvas and coming up onto her knees. She placed her hands on her hips and nodded, bemused and perhaps grateful. “Good shit.” Then she stood, pacing back. Defiance was so inviting. It was like this muscle she just had to see its strength. So, Angelina prepared, squatting with one foot forward, leaning on her back-head as she framed their expression inside her indexes and thumbs.

Putting one foot down, she took her runner’s start, then erupted into a sprint, off to the races. Seconds didn’t quantify this moment. There was only one. One second to prepare their head for sleep as Angelina’s foot whipped like an upper-cutting sledgehammer. The Marauder's trademark call… The Call of the Unconscious!

[Dubski]

Gritting her teeth and gutting through the pain her body was in, Mic Chick was sitting up still and trying to catch her breath. Despite the horrible pain she was in, her adrenaline was still pumping ever stronger after that kick out, but she was struggling hard to pull herself up still. Slamming her hand on the mat, she would finally start to push off the mat, dropping back down once when she wasn't prepared for how much that would hurt her stomach before yelling, "Let's fucking go!"

But then, she stopped, coming to the realization that Angelina was probably waiting for her to get into position since she wasn't currently being assaulted by the relatively aggressive girl. Her eyes darted and she reacted on the fly, throwing her body back as Angelina's punt went whiffing right past her head! Mic felt the wind against her and grit her teeth, grabbing hold of Angelina around her leg and rolled her back in a roll up, but continued to shove Angelina until she was rolling onto her knees.

Scrambling to her feet, Mic Chick would then quickly go for one of her signature moves, Check One Two, firing a superkick directly towards the kneeling redhead's chin, hoping for a critical blow in this fight!

[Monsy]

A little IQ-rearrangement can be healthy! Call her foot the rough-edged brain doctor, whipping with callous abandon into a thigh-stretching motion. Missing her strike put all her eggs in one basket, and to come up short, found her eggs turned to yoke. A snake slithered up her leg and torqued her back. She saw and felt nothing until she rolled on her back, stacked on her shoulders, ankles flying overhead as she scrunched her face. Then her nape almost folded, chin grinding against her collar and her knees pricked the horns. The extra shove made her pop out from the canvas, sitting on her knees as her bottom went onto her ankles, arching back as she looked left and right, the disorientation swelling her with confusion. “The fuck is that ninja shit-?!”

Then crack goes her chin. The sound made the front row wince. Her head snapped skyward, her world span a million miles a second, and she plunged deep underwater. Her limbs became boneless flesh bags, sagging down towards the canvas, and her spine was curling back. Her left shoulder dipped back first, then her other, her cheek pressed into her left shoulder, and she fluttered onto the mat, folding on her legs as her arms sprawled out, twitching feeble fists as she sputtered weak moans, and her head teetered back and forth, looking empty at the surroundings and echoing cheers.