Rabbits of a Feather: Eleanor vs Shimmerlace

[Malkavia]

‎
Tarred and Feathered Match: Winner will dunk loser first into a vat of tar, then into a vat of feathers, each of which sit side by side on the western ringside.

Week the third after Fight the Law 2. Tokyo, Arena 1-B—one of the larger facilities at the site, complete with a titantron and facilities for more...gimmicky matches.

Ringside, steam rose from one of two vats, one of which is filled with sticky, melted pine tar. Seated on an electric heater, staff kept it bubbling at forty five degrees Celsius—a hot bath indeed. Its steel twin, likewise five feet in height, carried a much more inviting bed of cotton-like down.

As the match was about to begin, something begins to lower from the ceiling like a man-sized spider from its black-rope spidersilk. As it settled into center ring, the crowd began to make out the features of what turned out to be a man-sized origami rabbit wearing a silky black coat and a large rubber chicken's beak over its snout. From the speakers, a voice called out:

"There once was a Ring Rabbit,
Colours drear like nun's habit.
Fight, cut, or fuck,
she's not had much luck,
But tonight, at least, she'll manage like chicken to cluck."

A beat of silence passed, and then the rabbit began at first to sag, as if the poor creature had developed a wee tummy ache. Then its gut began to smoke, the flame gouted, and shortly thereafter pink smog billowed up and out and over the ring, covering all with a Seelie mist. From its depths rose the Seelie Scion.

"TOP OF THE MORNING. Cunts. And. Cuntesses...of the Eastern Hemisphere."

Grinning as she raised her arms, Shimmerlace scanned the audience. Here and there sit the Coterie gems, pink nerds and geeks and marks there with their rabbit ears and fairy wings. Fewer in number, now, than once they were, but. Fuck 'em twice as hard then. What was not as sparse as predicted were the seats as a whole. For a daytime Young Lioness spot, this lapine faceoff attracted a crowd. Eleanor's sensual scuffle against the Marauder must have made an impression. Shimmerlace's jaw tightened.

As the Seelie mist cleared, the rabbit was gone, but the rubber chicken beak remained, lonely on the mat. Shimmerlace picked it up, gave it a flick, a quick shiver of magician's fingers, and then made it vanish. Having thus prepared her ammunition, she returned to her corner and awaited her opponent.

[Liru]

And so it was the Ring Rabbit's turn to make her entrance...

Eleanor has traveled all the way to the east in order for her to have her match against Shimmerlace. The travel was not what made her feel so much anger inside but rather, her match against the Marauder. The events that had taken place had taken a toll on the French-Canadian fighter. She is coming into the ring with no intention of messing around. This is her second chance -- an event for her to redeem herself. It also happens to be the year of the rabbit. Eleanor essentially took this as a sign that this was going to be her year. This was going to be the year where she quickly rises to the top and cherish all the fame and fortune that come with it on the way.

When Eleanor's theme begins to play in the background, the Ring Rabbit steps out into the spotlight. Bearing a soft but rather "suggestive" smile. She'd slowly walk to the ring, behaving as if she was a ring girl. She'd pay attention to the crowd, waving and making poses so that the fans of L.A.W. are able to see who the Ring Rabbit is. And just to say the least, she has already become a crowd favorite due to her attire and overall presence and attitude. But that can change. After all, Shimmerlace has technically been in L.A.W. longer than Eleanor. But this trending wrestler is starting to get some attention globally. Especially after her steaming hot debut with the Marauder.

Once Eleanor enters the ring, she stares at her opponent. Admiring that long and pink hair of hers. Too bad it might end up getting messed up with tar and feathers. Tonight's match was an interesting one but Eleanor is the type who enjoys experimenting. But it had to result in a win. It had to. A lot of things were moving around in the undercover heel's mind.

"Bonjour~" She greets Shimmerlace in the ring with a wave and a wink.

[Malkavia]

Shimmerlace leaned into the ringpost, legs crossed, and let each arm settle onto the second rope. She looked Eleanor over with her eyes while holding her head steady, settling first at her feet, then working over the netted legs, finally up to her face. The Pixie had to take pains not to bite her tongue or make some other move that would betray her appreciation. A quip seemed to be forming at the tip of her lips; you could almost see the thorny gears churning.

As she scanned her opponent, however, another sight caught her eye—the banner overhanging the ring. Her lip curled when she saw it. Its designers had settled on a simple design, a nearly square rectangle of Navy Blue embossed with silver script. From the stands, it probably looked fine, but those closer would be able to see how cheap and thin the fabric was. The script carved out two letters: YL.

Shimmerlace looked back to her opponent and let out a long breath. Her gaze tightened, and whatever joke she had been forming dyed in her throat.

DING DING DING!

When the bell hit, Shimmerlace launched from her perch. She stormed across the mat with one goal in mind: A big boot to la petite chienne’s face!

[Liru]

As the bell rings to signal the start of the match, Eleanor is greeted by the sight of her opponent rushing forward to try and land a big and heavy boot to her face. With the distance between them, Eleanor had time to react -- respond. "Oh?" A smile curves on her lips and she proceeds to meet Shimmerlace in the middle. But instead of getting hit by the pink-haired fighter, Eleanor dodges to the side and walks back a few steps to create a bit more distance again.

"Fufufu~ Why, aren't you in a hurry? Is there no room for us to have a nice chat during the match?" Eleanor holds confidence in her tone as she speaks to Shimmerlace mid-fight. She has no intentions to strike her yet. Rather, this was something she would always try to do. That being to play with her opponent. Humiliate them. And with this Tarred and Feathered Match, this was a golden opportunity for her to humiliate her opponent.

[Malkavia]

Shimmerlace's boot sailed through nothing and sent her stumbling across the mat. She clenched as she waited for the followup—the crack against her back, or the yank at her heels. But as she whirled around, all she caught was Eleanor’s smirk. Her ears burned. For a flash, her face would crease with disgust before the mask fixed back in place.

She backed away from Eleanor, towards the ring corner. A wave of her fingers brought her glass pipe back into reality, and a spark from a snap set it smoking.

”Aye, sure! I’m down for a chat.” Plup plup plup. Pink steam rose in round chuffs, train-stack puffs in a bouncing black and white cartoon. ”How about, eh, a story?”

Shimmerlace cracked a grin. ”Once upon a time, there was a runt of a rabbit. Her ma told her to go out and see the world!” She waved a hand over her head, shimmering her fingers, to suggest a wide and magical sky. “But! The runt was a small, weak wee fuck and feared the wide world. So rather’n fight, it hid in its hole all day until it died all pathetic and sad. The. End.”

Another flick of the wrist sent the pipe back from whence it came. Its owner crossed her arms and jut out her jaw. Your turn, cunt.

[Liru]

"Oh? A story? Do tell~"

Eleanor expected a more traditional chat. One that just involved a few words being exchanged. Likey insults and jabs to each other's ego. However, Shimmerlace surprises the French-Canadian fighter with a fun little story that was clearly directed to her. Putting a light curve on her lips, depicting a frown.

When her opponent finished, Eleanor returns to her reserved character. Letting out a shrug and a quiet 'Heh', showing that she did not care too much. But then, she would proceed to give a round of applause for the storyteller. Shortly deciding to come up with her own. Taking inspiration from recent events. And like Shimmerlace, she too would apply wide gestures to further emphasise her words in the story.

"Amazing! Tell me, was that a story about yourself? If so, that sounds pretty accurate~ Now let me tell my own story... Once upon a time, there was a beautiful, pink-haired lady who pranced through a forest with her closest companion, a cute critter. But one day, the beautiful lady lost her companion to a mean, horned devil-lady who mocked her. But no matter how many times she tried to save her little friend, she could never be reunited with her closest friend. The end~ Aww... Isn't that sad? Though hmm... That does remind me of someone I know~"

After finishing her story on that statement, she would look towards Shimmerlace with a smug look on her face. Followed by a wink which only adds to the roast.

Eleanor now waits for a reaction from her opponent. Eager to see what she will say or do. In case she rushes towards her again with another move, such as another boot to the face, Eleanor would prepare to dodge it. But unlike before, she would then follow up with a counter. That being to catch her opponent, let her up, and slam her down to the mat where Eleanor can begin torturing her opponent.

[Malkavia]

Molar ground against molar. Shimmerlace leaned against the ringpost, arms and legs crossed. She bounced, almost invisibly, on her heel as she flexed her knee. She tried to keep her eyes on Eleanor while controlling her breathing. In…and out… Grip tight on her arms. But the story seemed to make her need to pace, to fidget, and she broke, looking down at her gloves. She adjusted their fit, tugged at the white silken hems around her wrist as Eleanor’s story washed over her shoulders and made her face prickle.

After the Ring Rabbit finished, silence filled the auditorium, the Seelie Scion still unable to meet her opponent’s eyes. And then—the Feychild galloped out of her corner. The first burst had her leaping across the ring like a gazelle, arms out at her sides. Then her boots smacked the mat, rapid-clip, pap-pap-pap until she stopped, stiff as tree trunk, sudden as a spring downpour, just out of Eleanor’s reach.

She grins, leans in slow, then pivots out quick. She hops backward, ducks to the side. Reading, baiting, teasing, until (she hoped) Eleanor responded, missed a cue, gave an opening. The Feychild wanted to strike like a snake, but instead of fangs, she had her fingers—claws she’d smeared with Gloaming Sap while pretending to fiddle with her wrists. Her plan was to dart, then rake Eleanor’s eyes with venom that burned like pepper!

[Liru]

Eleanor Garnier steps forward, her eyes locked on Shimmerlace, sizing up her opponent. She could sense the competitive energy radiating off of her, and she knew better than to let her guard down. She watched as Shimmerlace bounced and fidgeted, clearly trying to psych her out.

As Shimmerlace made her move, Eleanor stood her ground, her feet firmly planted on the mat. She could see the Feychild's grin and knew she was trying to bait her into making a mistake. But Eleanor wasn't going to fall for it.

When Shimmerlace darted towards her, Eleanor sidestepped, easily avoiding any attacks. However, she could not see the Gloaming Sap on her opponent's claws. Eleanor was a seasoned wrestler, and she knew how to handle herself in the ring. Unfortunately, she is not prepared for everything. Especially for these types of dirty moves.

"Is that all you've got?" Eleanor taunted, a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. She was ready for anything Shimmerlace could throw at her, and she was going to come out on top.

This was Shimmerlace's cue. Glowing with confidence, Shimmerlace manages to reach her eye. Eleanor immediately feeling this pepper-like feeling burning it.

"Arghhh!" She holds it and starts retreating. Unsure what was going on. "What did you do!?" She shouts. No longer was she going to pretend to be "the good girl." She is mad. Very mad. And there was only one person in the ring she can vent her frustrations onto -- the Feychild, the one who caused the burning sensation in her eye. "Gh... That's it..."

[Malkavia]

Tiny beads of moisture slipped through the thin, white cotton fabric of Shimmerlace’s gloves. They were microdroplet refugees slipping away from the pools of water, salt, and carcineroids mixing in Eleanor’s eyes as the Feychild’s fingers ripped across them. An angry, hard sphere at the back of Shimmr’s mind reflected on how much better it would have felt without the gloves—to really, personally dig her nails into the pulp under this cunt’s eyelids.

When she was done, she flicked her fingers dry, took a deep breath, and then charged at the ring rabbit. The plan was less plan and more just concentrated anger. Shimmerlace heaved hr shoulder back, coiling all there was to coil in her shoulder and pectoral muscles, before unloading with her fist. If dominoes fell where she wanted, she'd back gray-haired and netted leggings into the ring corner and wail. Fist after fist, looking on all the while without so much as a twitch towards a smile, until her breath ran shallow and her arm ached from the swinging.