Cheyenne Black Rock vs. Death Bunny

[Dubski]

Cheyenne Black Rock vs. Death Bunny
Match Type: Standard Match
Rules: The winner must pin, submit, or knock out her opponent.

A loud cackling could be heard in the gorilla position as the next match was being set up. It was none other than Deanna Duncan, looking at her partner Cheyenne Black Rock incredulously. "Seriously, Death Bunny? You're fighting Murder Rabbit? Homicide Cotton-Tail?"

Cheyenne, meanwhile, looked far less amused, nodding once. "Yes, you are aware of this. You have already laughed about it no less than twice before right now."

"Yeah, Chey, because it's still funny. It hasn't stopped being funny," explained Deanna, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'll stop laughing when it stops being funny. And I mean, you haven't even laughed about it once!"

"It is a gimmick," said Black Rock plainly. "These are not uncommon."

Duncan gave Cheyenne a strange look. "Chey, they aren't Death Bunny though. Come on now."

Fortunately for Black Rock, her theme song Protect the Land by System of a Down began playing. The Native American looked over at her partner and flashed a smile. "I need to make my entrance now." Then, she frowned and began to walk up the steps to the stage and started out onto it as a spotlight shined down on her. Deanna Duncan would follow behind her with a big grin on her face, contrasting the stoicism of her partner as she accompanied her to the ring. Black Rock simply walked down down to the stage, nothing special, while Deanna slapped hands with various members of the crowd and slapped Cheyenne on the back, trying to hype her up. Eventually, the Chieftess would make her way to the ring steps, walking up them before stepping up and over the top rope to enter the ring. Deanna, meanwhile, would cozy herself up on the outside of the ring, leaning her arms on the apron, resting her head on them as she waited for this Death Bunny to make her entrance, absolutely thrilled to see what exactly she would be like.

Cheyenne Black Rock

]

Deanna Duncan

[killcarrion]

Wafting mists from a lit cigarette dissipated into the night sky atop the arena's rooftop somewhere a sole figure would find it most accommodating to indulge in quiet contemplation. Typically, she sought isolation amidst the subterranean bowels of whatever latest fighting venue was willing to stake their reputation on hiring an athlete whose alleged criminality was redacted in ink as pitch black as her jacket fluttering in the breeze. She supposed that the compulsory urge to take in a starkly different view ran concurrently alongside the distinct sensation of the changing times once contract negotiations were ultimately settled. The cult following that amassed in her previous workplace were certain to follow where she did roam, evident by the throngs of fans currently on ground level filing into the sold-out arena. Some even sporting various paraphernalia brandishing her likeness and symbols. If anything, this towering viewpoint of the same city buildings, same people, same skyline. It all served as an apropos reminder of how even though the locales may vary, what she does and what...who, she is...remains steadfast. Like a lighthouse against the roaring ocean waves.


Sweeping darkness enshrouded the arena to the reverberating GONG of a tolling bell. Twinkling starlight's from people's cellular phones brightening up the ominous dead of night to the continued chiming and foreboding chanting of D.B.'s theme until the Grim Hopper came shambling out from behind the curtains. Grimly marching onward and down the ramp clothed in her tattered trenchcoat, wide-brimmed hat, skimpy hot pants jeans and white cotton top. Offering not even a parting glance or acknowledgment of the captivated fanbase on either side of her. Instead keeping her bunny-eared head tilted down until she approached ringside, where she'd turn and saunter up the adjacent steel steps and enter the squared circle through the ropes to an almost silenced hush of a reverent audience keeping their adulation to minimum throughout their entirety of D.B.'s somber and subdued marching. Now stoically standing aside her corner turnbuckle, the lights of the arena only brightening up once she'd tipped off her hat and revealed the soulless iris' centered on the stoic challenger across the ring from her.

Handing off her trenchcoat and hat to a ringside official before making her across the ring to meet face to face with Cheyenne and making an odd observation. "...Hrm...Native American, eh? That's bit of a strange gimmick, don't you think?" Death queried with a cocked eyebrow, bounce to her bunny ears, and apparent aloofness to the irony.

[Dubski]

Cheyenne Black Rock waited in her corner with her arms crossed, anticipating her opponent coming to the ring. And then, in a moment, the lights shut off and the Chieftess rolled her eyes up while she heard Deanna snickering in the background. Watching her rather eccentric competitor come to the ring, looking like a gothic bunny, Cheyenne kept an eyebrow raised but remained quiet--which is the least that could be said about her tag partner.

"Cheyenne, are you seeing this? I can't with this," said the platinum-haired girl, fighting back a laughing fit.

"I am seeing it," replied Black Rock plainly, seeing that Death Bunny had now put her focus on her. Cheyenne, however, didn't seem intimidated or phased by her opponent standing across from her. She remarked on the Chieftess' appearance first, prompting the Native American to make a face.

Deanna, meanwhile, let out a sharp laugh, covering her mouth as she looked up at her partner. "Oh come on, this isn't real..."

Groaning under her breath, Cheyenne said, "It is not a gimmick. I am Native American."

"Also that seems kind of racist? Like being Native American is a gimmick...?" remarked Duncan, looking thoughtful.

Cheyenne was ready to reply dismissively to Deanna, almost on instinct, but then she stopped taking a moment to think on it as well. "...Hm. It might be, actually," agreed Black Rock before shaking her head. "You should focus on the match," said Cheyenne, sharply changing the subject.

"And! And you're a fucking rabbit," shouted Deanna, gesturing to Death Bunny. "Like playing it totally straight. What is actually happening?" With a slight roll of her eyes, Cheyenne would simply not remark on that comment from her partner and instead step out of her corner, preparing for her match up.

[killcarrion]

In hindsight Death figured it might not have been her place to criticize the unique eccentricities of another wrestler's in-ring portrayal. Fluffy-eared avatar's of death itself weren't exactly your typical roster card members either, the entire situation evoking the saying about the pot calling the kettle black. Or...would it be Black Rock in this instance? Regardless, throughout her wrestling tenure she's seen her fair share of elaborate methodology's when it came to leaving a lasting impression on an audience. And Cheyenne's honestly didn't even rank in the Top Ten strangest gimmick's now that she thought about it. A small part of her wonders if she spoke out of turn. Certainly wouldn't be the first time her lack of social finesse equated to awkwardness all around, but for now D.B. centered her attention on the challenger before her and not the conversational faux-pas she may have just committed. Apologies always seemed less disingenuous after the match anyway.

"...huh, cool. I hearsay it's important to live your gimmick, so you already seem ahead of the curve over other people. By the way, is there anyway you can make her stop doing that thing with her mouth?" Death leisurely raised her hand to point at whoever was at ringside but kept her dead-eyed gaze on Cheyenne all throughout. "In the span of five seconds she's called me a fucking racist rabbit. You should know that I've ripped out people's larynx for less, but as a sign of goodwill I'm willing to settle with just slugging her right in the throat as a warning. It makes no difference to me. One way or the other she's getting silenced before this match ends...oh, speaking of...good luck." Death backpedaled once the preliminary jargon would come to an end, a foreboding yet serene menace to her voice as the ringing of the bell signaled the beginning of the match. Dukes raised as she approached to attempt to defend from any incoming strikes or accept a lock-up depending on whichever direction Chey wanted to go.

[Dubski]

Cheyenne canted her head as Death Bunny continued to speak, slipping back to a less guarded pose to cross her arms in front of her chest again, simply listening to her. Her brow narrowed as it went on--a hum of irritation coming from the back of her throat as the threats came, with Cheyenne giving a brief glance at Deanna, who didn't look concerned, looking back at her incredulously. Black Rock would then look right back to her opponent, waiting until she was done before giving a single nod.

Deanna held her arms out and then began speaking. "Lady, you are crazy. And you can't--" She stopped however, seeing the Native American hold up a hand. It was rare that her partner wanted to be the one to speak, and Duncan simply stepped back, gesturing to the space between the two competitors as if to give her the floor.

Black Rock would take another moment before speaking in a more raised tone than before. "Firstly, you do not threaten my friend. Annoying as she may be sometimes, she has a good heart. Secondly, your threats do not scare me, and I have reason to believe they do not scare Deanna either. They are threats of murder, which a professional wrestler in an overwrought costume has surely never enacted," explained Cheyenne stepping forward to close the gap between them. "Further, you are dressed like a rabbit. Not a lie. Your comments about my attire and my people are, at worst, very dubiously close to offensive. So you will need to forgive her for taking umbrage with them when leveled at me, her friend."

Rolling her neck, Cheyenne let out a soft hum before loosening her stance again. "And there is nothing I or anyone else can do to shut her up. People bigger and meaner than you have tried," added the Chieftess with a small smile, settling into a grappling pose. "So concern yourself with me, not her. I am your fight. Not giving me your full focus will not benefit you, truly." With that, Black Rock concluded her tiny monologue, which was more words than she typically liked saying during any competition. Deanna would nod on approvingly, looking impressed at ringside, while politely clapping with a grin on her face.

[killcarrion]

...and now Death can add crazy to the oh-so-flattering list of descriptors the woman at ringside had labeled her with. She had the distinct sensation this was going to become an irksome trend that lasts into the night, and petty though it may seem to keep track of them considering D.B. cared little for the blathering opinions of scatterbrained clownshoes like this person at ringside, it will help serve to justify what she intends to do to Deanna once given the opportunity. Strange though, to once again become disregarded as another undistinguished combatant filed amongst the bottom of this federations roster totem pole. No offense, mind you. The palpable fear she garnered by conquering premier A-carders within her previous wrestling organization was apparently not worth a plugged nickel around here. Death mused earlier on about how this felt like a fresh start, she just didn't imagine it would end up being quite this literal. Regardless, she listened keenly to Black Rock's stoic retort all throughout. The more irksome assertion would be that it looked like no matter what she said the both of them were gonna label her a racist. Millennials these days.

"...Really? My name is literally Death and you can't fathom that there might be a specific reason as to how I earned it? You know you're not the only one here who might take offense from people not believing you're the genuine article..." Death remarked with a deadpanned stoicism with her arms crossed and impatient tapping of the tip of her boot, another battle taking place in the war of words transpiring between two people who typically prefer to to keep the idle chitchat to a bare minimum. A rarefied smirk cast upon her facials as she sought to end this conversational stalemate just like Black Rock desired as well, approaching with an ominous gait to her grappling stance. "Still...it's admirable, valiantly shielding your friend. And I respect you for it...but you wouldn't have thought to do that unless you knew I meant every word of what I said." A sinister inflection towards her parting words before locking horns with the foe who now has her full focus, one hand clasped onto the back of her neck with her slender figure attempting to muscle her backward. Butting heads metaphorically now being interpreted quite literally as their foreheads were on the cusp of meeting themselves.

[Dubski]

Deanna Duncan remained on the outside with her hands on her hips, looking at Death Bunny incredulously as she spoke. Then, she rolled her eyes, rocking her body in an exaggerated manner to accent her very clear feelings on the subject. "Yeah, you call yourself Death. Sure. I can call myself Queen Duncan and I ain't royalty!" exclaimed Deanna. Cheyenne would give her a look for her retort, which made the Diamond hold her hands up and turn away, leaving it to her partner.

Cheyenne would then look back at Death Bunny, not seeming terribly impressed with her response, and in fact tried not to smirk at the assertion she made. Black Rock had locked right back up to her opponent, matching her intensity with her own. Black Rock was rather unflappable, her namesake matching her relative immovability. She was big, strong, and certainly had mastered a stance to keep herself from being shoved around by most anyone. Still, she kept a narrowed gaze on Death Bunny from their very close distance and answered her words. "I thought to do that because I don't care for empty words and absurdity. I'm here to fight," said the Native American simply, letting that brief statement stand.

Then Black Rock let Death Bunny's grapple push towards her, letting her shoot forward. Cheyenne maintained control though and attempted to use Bunny's momentum against her, pushing back with all of her muscled strength to try shoving her back hard while her foe's footing wasn't as solid. It was a simple tactic, and one she had deployed countless times in these simple tests of strength, and she was hoping it would be enough for her to make a statement against her opponent.

[killcarrion]

Death was in adamant agreement that there had been enough bantering dialogue for one night and it was time to get this exceptionally violent show on the road. Partially because it seemed like if this conversation kept progressing in its natural direction than baseless hashtags and accusatory cancel culture would start to become associated with her name, and there are just some fights where no one wins. Tuning out the bellowing condescension from the peanut gallery at ringside, Death stepped up to plate and willingly engaged in a titanic grapple with the seemingly immovable Native American. Honed intensity zeroed in on the hazel iris' directed right back at her, shoulders hunched with stability provided by her stiffened leg behind her. Concerted effort directed into the lock-up albeit not with every ounce of strength Death had at her disposal considering this was still the feeling out process.

Although Death took notice of the apparent headway she was making as Chey apparently gave up a few inches in the bullying contest with D.B. encroaching in on her, until it was all revealed to be a ploy meant to unbalance the reaper and make it easier for her adversary to wind up propelling Death backward ass over tea kettle. A startling showcasing of Black Rock's colossal strength in outshining D.B. right out of the gate who'd tumble with the throw until finding her feet on the canvas again, but standing upright at an eerie and glacial pace. "...*sigh*...We'll be at this all day..." Death remarked with blasé indifference, unperturbed while raising one hand and wiggling her fingers before clawing them. Daring Cheyenne to interlock their hands together one at a time at a tentative pace, if accepted Death extending their arms outward to a blooming of their busts together in the grappling contest.

[Dubski]

Cheyenne had managed to shoot Death Bunny back in the test of strength, sending her falling and rolling back. The impressively strong Native American rolled her neck as she stood tall, waiting for Bunny's next action. It came in another challenge of power, which Cheyenne was willing to oblige. She was typically bored with such tests most of the time, but she would allow another one this time. Their wrists would be at contention this time as they began pushing at each other while their arms were held out.

Their chests pressed together as they exerted their strength at one another. The Chieftess grunted softly as she held tight, not giving up any sort of headway to her opponent. The rather immovable Native American would continue to show that off planting her feet and letting Death Bunny throw all of her strength at her to start exhausting herself early on. It was a simple strategy, and it would force her foe to make a move sooner than later.

[killcarrion]

One could be forgiven for questioning Death's sanity on her best days. Sporting floppy bunny ears alongside a morose fixation on the Underworld weren't exactly a sign of sound judgmental faculties. According to Einstein, the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Apparently demonstrated thusly via Death once again challenging the Immovable Cheyenne in a test of strength as if her stationary nickname wasn't already a dead enough giveaway in the futility of this action. Yet Death persisted and remained stalwart and unrelenting, albeit with her concentrated strength having been noticeably tampered down somewhat.

"Black Rock, eh? Safe to say by now that you’re about as strong as one..." Death complimented whilst meeting Cheyenne eye to lifeless eye, swelled chests ballooning beneath them with rigid stances in the titanic locking of horns. Until in a deft upheaval, Death would use plant her boot against Chey's slim abdomen and use the strength she poured into the grapple against her to Monkey Flip the Native American overhead. Splatting Chey on her back with D.B. promptly bounding over herself until settling her backside upon her foe's midsection. "Let's just hope you're not as dumb as one too..." Death coldly uttered with their hands still interlocked and pressed above her head as Death lurched over her, the referee settling down for the surprise pin attempt.

"1!"