Match Type: Last Woman Standing Win Conditions: Be the last woman standing at the referee’s 10 count Spoiler
Elizabeth would be reading up on her opponent and would be disgusted by the way her dress and her nickname. “The Aristocracker”. What kind of commoner would call herself that? But that didn’t matter. She was ready to show her opponent how a princess handles business. She was then told that she’s cued to enter the arena as her music started playing. Spoiler
Elizabeth made her way down the ramp and was still met with silence from the crowd. The referee in the ring knew her as they went to lift up the ropes for her to get in.
As she entered the ring, she would copy some movements of wrestlers she saw stretching for their matches and do the same thing. She was somewhat prepared for her match so that was a major plus.
Marceline was more than ready for her up coming match, she was positively excited, which was something fir a woman who tried to put up an image of matur mercilessness.
Her opponent would be a favorite of hers, a blue blooded aristocrat, with the match's stipulations being a last woman standing match. Beating her opponent sensless, or batter them until they were too unwilling or injured to get back to their feet was not merely sn option, but imperative.
Hell, if she wanted, she could put her into a submission hold until she broke her opponent, there were tap outs in this match to speak of, either. That if course came with risks, anything she coukd do to her opponent, her opponent could do so as well. Sge coukd be the ine left broken and beaten on the canvass, or anywhere the match took them, for that matter. Spoiler
Spoiler
Marceline would step out when her theme began to play, standing at the too of the ramp, before flexing her arms abd gettin down on one knee. She then pointed to her opponent, already in the ring, before guving her opponent a classic hand drawn across the neck gesture. But this time that meant more than it did for most, she was determined to but thus woman's neck through absolute hell.
After making her way into the ring and taking a good looking at the woman, she smirked. Thus Elizabeth was clearly a proper heavweight and certainly taller tgan most woman, but she was still about half a foot shorter than her. She'd walk right up to her foe, hands on hips, well into the woman's space.
Elizabeth would look down at her and scoff to herself. “Oh please. You aren’t gonna do shit to me. I’ll put you down like any other rebellion my bloodline had to put down. You are no different.” Elizabeth would also use her size to sorta push her back a bit before looking at her outfit. “And by the way, you look ugly with that get up. Did you go dumpster diving for that outfit?” Elizabeth haughtily laughed as she walked towards her corner and waited for the bell to ring.
Marceline felt like attacking the arrogant bloox blood the moment she turned her back, she decided against it. She'd have plenty of opportunity to beat the crap outnof the woman when she was defenseless, given the stipulations of the match and it'd be on a context where her foe could not complain about cheating.
Marceline would back peddle to her corner and wait for the bell to ring. Once it did, she'd approach her opponent. There would be no lock up to test her strength, no, Marceline would keep just enough distance to allow her to target a pair of hard roundhouse kicks to Elizabeth's left thigh, using her right foot. If both connected, only then would Marceline approach closer, again not for the purpose of grappling, but a simple left hook punch to her opponent's torso.
Elizabeth would stagger after taking some pretty good roundhouse kicks to the thigh. She then staggered some more after getting punched in the hip. However, she would still be standing as she went for a grapple and turned into a headlock. She then went and attempted to do a running bulldog to Marceline
"Wrong move, Royal plump." Marceline would mock as her opponent grabbed the top of her hair and attempted to pull her down. Not only was Marceline much stronger than this girl, she'd failed to do even the slighest to take her off guard.No preceeding punch, kick, knee strike or even slap, just a a direct attempt to drag her down. Pathetic.
The frenchwoman would quickly reach up to grab Elizabeth's forearms to remove them from her head, before pulling her head down for a headbutt down onto the her foe's nose bridge, to be followed up with driving a powerful left footed push kick towards her foe's left knee while still holding her arms apart.
Elizabeth’s joints spazzed out as she would have tumbled from that headbutt but with the french woman holding onto her arms, she wouldn’t be able to. She also had her left knee buckle as well as she got kicked from it.
Elizabeth then fell onto one knee as she would hold the bridge of her nose. As she removed it, she saw that she was bleeding. “You fucking asshole! You broke my nose! Now I gotta get it fixed.” Elizabeth would then go for a low blow out of anger. “And you’re paying for my nose surgery!”
Marceline would look down to see that Elizabeth was already bleeding. The french woman could only smile.
"Parfait! I shall shatter like a porceline doll!" She'd say, but just as her foot was about to lift up for another kick, the dirty aristocrat slammed her fist in her womanhood.
"Eeep!" She'd scream, in a higher tone than she'd ao far used, as she instictively brough her hands down toward her crotch and backed away.
"You shall pay for that!" Marceline would yell indignantly.
Elizabeth quickly got up and would hit a keeling Marcelina with a big boot. She then dragged her to the middle of the ring and started stomping on her body.
“Yeah! This is what it’s like being under the princess’s boot.” Elizabeth was being ruthless with her downed opponent. She was angry but not as angry as Marceline would be after this weak beating Elizabeth was giving her.
Marceline was frustrated that she let this pathetic blue blood get the best of her with dirty tactics, to the point she was now stomping on her. In middle if the ring and early in the match, no less. In retaliation, the frenchwoman would manage to grab the englishwoman's foot during one of her stops, then violently roll over to pulll Elizabeth awkwardly to the ground, hoping to harm her ankle.
From that position, Marceline's next move would be to get right back up and head over to Elizabeth's upper body, where Madame Guillotine would bring down a single, powerful stomp on her foe's head!
