Drop Your Glass: Sheila Morgan, the "Wild One" vs. "Bloodied" Yuna Bennett

[Crossedes]

Barroom Defenestration Match
The match takes place in a barroom.
The first competitor to throw her opponent through a window to the outside of the bar wins.

Yuna had participated in some crazy matches in her life - they called her "Bloodied" for a reason. Yet this match took the cake and represented exactly why she had agreed to become a part of this League. This place thrived on crazy shit, and by God, Yuna would sign up for any and all of it if they gave her the chance. And what could be crazier or a better representation of this sport at its purest than having a match in a bar?

Yuna had arrived early - early. Though she sure as hell wanted all of her facilities intact to keep her nose attached when this other, equally crazy bitch tried to smash her face into a barstool or to enjoy every second of doing the same in return, she had shaken down one of the League's taping people into tracking down something resembling a shitty Fizzy Apple Cocktail. It barely offered enough kick to do more than warm her stomach. As she downed the last few drops of it, she gave the room a scan.

The only thing taking away from the edge and spectacle was the production crew scurrying around like rats, putting the finishing touches on the cameras they had tucked safely in everything's crack-end. A few people, enough to serve as a chorus to highlight the highs and lows of the match, had arrived to watch from behind a barrier to the back rooms. The ref wore a mockery of barmaid's attire - clever enough, she figured. The rest of the room was her playground, a litany of booths and tables and chairs and stools and long stretches of wooden bartop that would do a suitably shitty job of making the landings hurt any less. Of biggest note was the big-ass window dominating most of the area designated for wrestling. Whoever got her ass thrown through that would go home a sliced-up, sore, miserable loser.

Sheila Morgan stood as the only mystery remaining. Yuna had seen a pic or two and knew she was Aussie, as if "Australian" amounted to a shitty gimmick for connecting them. Daredevil by the sound of her, getting her kicks out of beating the shit out of her own body rather than anyone else's. A girl had to get her kicks somehow. Yuna rose to her feet, earning a wide berth from several of the crew members, and leaned over a booth at one of the pencil pushers, an American by the sound of him. "Ey! When we gettin' this goin'?" she asked, as harshly as ever.

He nervously fingered the paperwork in his hands. "Three minutes. We're almost set, ma'am. Sheila is back here-" Before he could say more, Yuna rapped on the wall he indicated. "Hey, girlie!" she called to the woman in question. "You gonna show me that pretty face before I have to bang it off a table!?"

Spoiler

[BlackAkuma]

”In a minute!” Sheila's shrieking voice came through the walls, boisterous enough to match Yuna’s. ”Almost fuckin’ done, bloody yabbo...”

The Wild One had come a little early as well, though for different reasons. When she’d first heard that they were doing this kind of match, she’d be all for it. It was wild, crazy, stupid, with a high chance of blood loss and permanent bodily harm - in other words, it was the quintessential backyard wrestling match, exactly the sort of thing she would’ve put on with her promotion back home. Higher production values than she could’ve ever afford, but aside from that? Bang on.

Oh, when she heard she’d be taking on a fellow Aussie? Oh, fuck, even better. Her first thought was that it was a little cliche, having two Australians battle in a bar fight, but considering how many of them she’d been in before she came to Japan, she wasn’t one to talk. Sheila wasn’t homesick or anything, she was fine in Japan for the most part, but it would be nice to knock heads with someone from her own little island.

But that brought with it some requirements. If she was going to be wrestling one of her countrywoman in a match like this, she was going to do it the way she did it back home, with her own matches, the Outback Wrestling way. And in Outback Wrestling, the fighters always - always - had a drink before the fight. It was customary, a time-honored tradition. Only problem was, the beer in Japan was a little, well…shite. In her opinion.

Luckily, she had friends back home who were more than willing to send a supply of the good stuff her way, and she had brought said good stuff into the kitchen to work some magic.

While she wasn’t a bartender, she’d smashed the back out of a couple in her day and picked up a thing or two when it came to mixing drinks. She was currently making a Death Flip cocktail for two - one-ounce blanco tequila, half an ounce of Chartreuse, half an ounce of Jägermeister, a dash of syrup and one egg to top it off. Perfection. Of course, she didn’t know if Yuna was the type to drink. Despite the cliches, not all Australians liked to down a pint. But, hell, if she didn’t? Sheila had no qualms putting two of these down.

After a few seconds, she came bursting out from the back, drinks in hand, only stopping to take a look at her opponent for the night. A rough-looking sort, tall and muscular and wild with that hair. She looked damn sturdy, the kind of woman who could throw a runt like her all over the place - but then, Sheila wasn’t all that big, most women in LAW could. It’d take way more than that to scare her.

Sheila Fucking Morgan

”Huh. Big bitch. Can see your blood’s worth bottling.” She took a sip from her drink and looked her over head to toe, enjoying the view for a moment before she moved around the bar. She held out the mug for Yuna as she neared. ”Yours. Drink up and we’ll get going.”

[Crossedes]

In a minute. "Hell, what, taking that long with your makeup? It'll be smeared halfway across one of these ass dents before anyone gets to see it!" She gestured at the booths as if Sheila could see them. Yuna didn't care that much even if she eagerly anticipated the demolition derby to come, but she considered it a merit to have the last word in any shouting match, especially with another Australian. The voice from the other room didn't leave her wondering whether her opponent to be was a proper Aussie, either. Sounded like someone had dragged her kicking and screaming straight out of Gibby a day ago.

Yuna whirled to wait and pace with hands on her hips, trailing close enough to the small crowd that a few inched back at the sight of her. Just as many eyes bulged to get a better look at her in her scant clothing. All the League's busy bees started clearing out, at least, leaving what anyone watching from one of those many cameras would assume to be a proper barroom rather than one specifically prepped for a match. Yuna didn't care much for the suspension of disbelief, but it served as another sign that she had taken a step up from the nothing promotions.

The door burst open. "Finally," she griped, but that griping turned into a satisfied "Mmmm." at her first glance of Sheila. A looker, this one. A bit small, but she had the body of a fighter. It didn't take Yuna much to guess why they had been paired by the people in charge, either. They could have passed as a tag team, Sheila the blonde wild child and Yuna the raven-haired one. And was that familiar strong smell coming off of her, or was it...

The bloodied one lit up when she saw the Death Flip held out to her. "Fuck yes," she said as she eagerly took it, letting it serve as her closest sentiment to thanks. If she had good graces, Sheila already found herself in them. "The hell did you get this?" Rather than explain how she hadn't found anything worth trying to make her own cocktail, she downed some of the drink. As close to perfect as she could have hoped for stuck on this island instead of her own.

[BlackAkuma]

Sheila stood back and watched Yuna down her drink, unable to keep a sly smile from forming. ”Could’ve poisoned that, you know.” She brought the glass close to her lips and winked. ”I didn't. But I could’ve.”

Just fucking around, plain and simple. Sheila wouldn't have poisoned an opponent, even if she had the brains to do it. Especially an opponent like this. Well-fit, strong, and looking like a wrecking ball, this was precisely the kind of woman she wanted to be put up against. So far, she’d been lucky in her fights, only put up against some of the meanest, wildest women that LAW had to offer - Nerissa, Eleanor, Kuroi, all killers in the ring. She’d been afraid that time in a professional ring would make her soft, but she was happy to learn the opposite was true, and it looked like the streak would be continuing.

She put down a few gulps herself as she made her way around behind the bar, enjoying the fruits of her labor and letting her hand run over the drinks the ring crew put up for decoration. Trash, trash, trash - every time her hand passed over something really bad, she made sure to knock it off the shelf out of spite, letting it crash and spill out on the floor. Most of this place was about to be in shambles, anyway.

”Imported. Mates back home sent me some. You want some more, I can make it happen. It’ll cost, though.” She said that, but honestly, she was of half a mind to just share. She could use a good drinking buddy, and Yuna seemed all right. So far.

Sheila reached the end of the bar and made her way around to the other side, leaving a trail of broken glass in her wake. ”So,” She set her drink down on the bar and started to work her jacket off. ”We both took a trip over the pond, pretty obvious. Which side are you coming from?” She gave her the lookover once again. ”And what’s with the swimmers? You always fight with your tits out, that a thing?”

Not that Sheila minded in the least.

[Crossedes]

Few things could distract Yuna from the promise of the fight, and alcohol - even alcohol buried in silk and sweetness - was at the top of that list. She downed entirely too much in the first gulp, paying no heed to Sheila's warning save from cutting her eyes at the beauty. "Worth it," she gasped when she finally dropped the mug from her lips. "Besides, I've had worse." With how much she beat the daylights out of her stomach with alcohol, caffeine, spices, and other terrors, surviving poison didn't sound like a stretch. It might send her to the ladies' room a few times.

Though she headed right back to downing the poison, she did cut her eyes to watch Sheila mosey behind the bar. Backside looked as nice as the front. Yuna didn't consider herself the type of hellfighter who made nice with an opponent before a fight, but she couldn't help but see a kindred soul as Sheila got a head start on bashing the worthless bottles of alcohol set up as props. Proved her whole attitude about their throwing too Australians together wrong, annoyingly. She supposed wrestlers from the same island - the same five habitable percent of an island - would have some similarities.

It made sense that the supply would have to come from back home. Yuna didn't do much with "mates," so she wouldn't have had anyone to send her anything anyway. "I got money," she assured, and she didn't spend it on much of anything short of hospital bills. To get something decent to drink from home without having to make the trip there herself, she would all but block off half her income. A proper alcoholic could only drink so much sake before she wanted to spit out her spleen.

She watched Sheila shedding the jacket. Getting better. And getting familiar. Yuna only tolerated so much talk before a fight from anyone who handed her a Death Flip. "Byron Bay. That's what with these." She gestured at her chest, and figuring she could take advantage of her tits being out, she leaned over the bar to present even more of them. "Standard Bay uniform. And what's the difference? Your norks any safer than mine from bein' in a belly shirt?"

She took another sip, fixing Sheila with a stern look all the while. "What about you?"

[BlackAkuma]

Sheila wasn’t what you’d call a conversationalist, but as long as the subject was on something she gave a damn about - a small list, that - she could talk ears off, if given half a chance. She wasn’t much for pre-fight banter herself, but it had honestly been a long time since she’d talked this much with anyone, long enough for her to miss it. Her Japanese was just barely good enough to get by in the day-to-day, and while there were a fair number of English speakers around the LAW arena, most of them had trouble understanding her accent. It was rare for her to have a talk with someone that didn’t require her to repeat herself, if they could understand her at all.

So she figured she might get the most out of Yuna while she was here. No telling when the next opportunity would be.

Since they were staying on the topic of tits, Sheila took the opportunity to check out more of Yuna’s, especially since she was nice enough to put them on full display. Nice, supple, definitely gropeable. A small part of her wished this a hentai match, but being fair, she’d had more than her fair share of those since she came over, she was overdue for a pure brawl. ”Mine are tucked in tight.” She bounced up and down a couple of times and gave her breasts a good shaking. Nothing slipped out, everything in place, both dogs stayed in the yard. ”You’re busting all over with yours. Not that I mind.” She squeezed the empty with a wolfish grin, a little preview of what could happen, and took another swig.

Things were getting antsy, Sheila could sense it. They both knew what they were here to do - LAW hadn't shelled out all this money just to record two Aussie bitches talking. The only question was who’d be kicking things off. Sheila inched her way closer down the bar, step by step, closing in on the zone of attack - the area where she guessed Yuna could strike out at her before she could properly react.

”Me? I’m from the bush. Kiwirrkurra, thereabouts. Not surprised if you haven’t heard of it.” She placed an elbow on the bar and leaned forward as she took another gulp. ”What brought you over? You come for the fucking or the fighting?”

[Crossedes]

Yuna didn't and wouldn't say it aloud, but another reason for having her tits out? Eliciting the exact stares like Sheila's. She might not have cared much for people, but leaving the right ones gawking did wonders for the psyche and made it that much easier to have what she wanted. Outside of a fight, Yuna could be very keen on having her way - a few potential paramours or generic jackasses in bars hard learned that fact the hard way. Sheila struck her as too clever to need to have anything beaten into her head.

Yuna wished she could get her way and have Sheila lose that shirt. Shaking with nothing showing - tease. The taller woman stared a hole through her. "You'd have a lot more fun if you let yours 'bust all over.' Nothing's a better laugh than watching a flamin' galah's stomach climb up her neck at the sight of a bare nipple droppin' out your shirt." She thought back on Aika, though the few guys she had wrestled did it too. It's just his crotch grew three sizes instead.

She pulled ahead of Sheila by downing the last of her drink, only because she couldn't wait too much longer to get this riot rolling. The burn in her stomach felt downright proper after the Death Flip, too. Turning and leaning against the counter with eyes that said "let's get a move on," Yuna watched her approach. "No shit, I know it. Was just thinking you looked like someone kicked your ass out of that sort of place. Never been there. Too hot." That was saying something since Australians knew hot.

"What brought me here was the fighting. Like this one. Better hurry your pretty little ass up with that last sip before I take it," she said, stepping close enough for Sheila to smell her body wash. And see her tits again too if she wanted. "But if fighting turns to fucking, it just becomes a highlight of the fighting."

[BlackAkuma]

Being honest, Sheila was half-tempted to acquiesce to Yuna’s politely delivered request and go topless. With a match like this, it was bound to get ripped off sooner or later, anyway, so there was some sense in saving the trouble. It would also spare her having to sew the bloody thing up later. A necessary skill for any full-time hardcore wrestler, but she hated it all the same.

”Tempting.” She held up a finger. ”But nah. Think I’d much rather you take it off for me. Or try to.” She let that thought sit as Yuna finished up on hers, taking the moment to inch closer. Pretty much in attack range now. Three stools away.

”Not hot enough, you ask me.” Outsiders always said the place was too hot, even by the country’s standard, but she swore, she could never feel it. She always loved being outside and having the sun whipping her back, building up sweat and getting her skin dirty. Her nickname came from a dozen sources. ”But alright, alright, we ain’t here to fuck spiders. Just let me…”

Sheila arched her back, held the mug high and downed the last bit of her hard work, guzzling it all in one go. Good stuff, blazing a trail down her throat. She could feel it drip, drip, dripping into her gullet, settling in and sizzling with her juices. As close you could get to drinking fire. Her nerves lit up, her muscles tensed, her hairs stood at attention. She was ready.

”Yeah. Hits the spot.” She nodded. Sighed. Burped.

Then she reeled back and threw the mug straight at Yuna’s face.

[Crossedes]

"Can do you one better than try," the bloodied one said, staring at Sheila's chest. "It's on my to-do list along with all the other ways I plan to work you over." She couldn't imagine needing to make any special effort. So much as a yank of the woman across the bar or a table with her shirt as the handlebars would do the trick. In fact, Yuna figured the beauty's shirt would serve as a damn good trophy if the material decided to go snap mid-match. Something to keep in mind, and she did believe... the barer the body, the more satisfying the hits and the way it reacted to an exchange of violence.

And by the sound of it, Sheila planned to finish her drink so they could get started, finally. Though she remained leaning on the bar, Yuna's posture shifted as the moment neared. Her back straightened, her legs spread into a wider posture, her palm spread across the top of the counter. She weighed her options for bringing this thing to its head, and the more she weighed, the more her roguish smile deepened. Did she try to bend Sheila over the bar? Tangle her across the barstools until they became a jail cell? Bash her with a napkin holder? Throw her all the way over to the booths and try to sit on that pretty face?

Sheila acted first, and Yuna could only see it coming because it was the exact sort of shit she would pull. She still only defended herself well enough that the mug bounced off her wrist and pinged across her temple before ending its journey in a million pieces underneath one of the booths, and the bump to the head stung enough for Yuna to slap at it with her palm to check for blood. When she didn't find any, she snapped to action herself. Weapons were not so much her bag - the Aussie rushed at Sheila, planning to shoulder-check her against the front of the bar and pin her there.

[BlackAkuma]

Was Sheila throwing the glass at Yuna like that a cheap shot?

Yes. Yes, it was.

Did she give a flying fuck?

No. No, she didn’t.

In a way, she saw it like a test. If the damn thing hit Yuna head-on, it was a good sign that she had shite reflexes and wasn’t in the proper mindset for a hardcore fight. Yeah, there was no bell or referee to signal the start of the match, but that shouldn’t have mattered. The second she came out, the fight was officially on - it was just a matter of who lit the fireworks. They both had to have their guards up.

As it turned out, Yuna passed the test - mostly. It caught her on the wrist and head. Not much, but better than nothing, and good enough to leave a bump. Sheila was eager to make more, too, as she charged forward with her fist drawn. ”Party’s on!”

She was just about to swing when her followup was interrupted by a freight train called Yuna, barreling into her at full steam. The Wild One was knocked off her feet and slammed against the bar with enough force to knock down a couple of the drinks she’d missed earlier, and the wind flew clean out of her. She had two working eyes. She knew the bitch was strong, but feeling all that power brought it into perspective. She hadn't felt this raw strength since she took on Eleanor, and Yuna was way wilder with her power.

Good.

She couldn't push Yuna off, but she could give her incentive to make space. ”Piss!” She threw a stiff punch at her fellow Aussie’s face. ”Off!” And another one, for good measure.