Honor vs Showmanship: Alice Rose vs Shimmerlace Snuggleblossom

[Malkavia]

Verbal Submission Match - The winner will force the loser to surrender by saying a phrase of her choosing

"Tonight, the Court's Mistress rides a moonbeam as she oversees the field of her next battle!"

In a room thick with darkness, a spotlight carved a white pin-point dot on the entrance ramp, which began to grow, like a pool poured onto the vinyl canvas. A brassy gong sounded at the same time as a column of mist toppled from the spotlight, and the drums began to beat.

BUM BUM (clap).
BUM BUM (clap).

Once the fog thinned to mist, Shimmerlace appeared and rose to her feet. She carried a hand drum a bit larger than her head under one arm, which she beat in time with her music while she peered out at tonight's seats and began to shout her song.

The Moon-riding Archfey

"Firebird burning bright, shining queen of on high,
Clap your wings and send a tremor through the inky sky!"
Shimmerlace began to dance and hop down the ramp, hitting the drum on BUM and slapping her thigh on (clap).
"I gasped in wonder, my rival to behold
Then I bit your eye and left you cold!"

BUM BUM (clap).
BUM BUM (clap).

"Cry, cry, cry lovely flaming shite!
Weep me a river to paint with light!
I'll sail to the moon, a comet glowing bright,
then arc round and burn your nest to cap the night. COME ON CUNTS! Firebird BURNING BRIGHT--"

The cunts and cuntesses were a leadable crew this evening -- lucky for Shimmerlace, or this would have been an awkward little spot. All the Seelie Maitre had to do was drop them a beat and cue them to clap, and the STOMP STOMP (clap) thundered over everything. Sing them a verse, cue them in, and suddenly Shimmerlace had a chorus singing stupidly along to her diddy. They weren't singing so much as shouting in something like the shape of a melody. By the time they had gotten through the second rendition, Shimmerlace had hopped to the ring apron, jumped to ringside, and hopped a seat on the top rope.

"'Now behind the curtain begins to stir..."
The Feychild lowered her finger down the dark line of the ramp opposite her seat, to the curtain she believed hid her opponent to be.
"'Queen or pauper, tiger, dragon or worm!
Let's see her run, let's see her crawl!
Let's raise her up, then make her fall.
Fly, fly, fly, until we break the sky,
Grab a star, hang on tight,
or fall with the pieces and get buried in this fairy's light."

On this last line, Shimmerlace pointed straight up--and pink smoke gouted from her sleeve. Sparks erupted, and a tiny firecracker exploded over the ring. The lights dimmed, and a sizzle filled the arena, and pink sparks formed the outline of a grinning rabbit face.

[AliceBun]

Alice

As the pink smoke clears and the sparks fade, Alice Rose steps out onto the stage, her expression reflecting a mix of disappointment and determination. The crowd's reaction is mixed, as they are captivated by Shimmerlace's flamboyant entrance but also intrigued by Alice's stern presence.

Alice walks down the ramp with purpose, her eyes locked on Shimmerlace in the ring. She doesn't pay much attention to the rowdy audience, her focus solely on her opponent. As she steps through the ropes and enters the ring, she brushes off the remnants of the sparks, her frustration simmering beneath the surface.

"Shimmerlace," Alice says with a hint of frustration, her voice carrying a sharper tone, "I can't help but notice that you seem to prioritize every superficial aspect except for what truly matters—wrestling. It's as if you're more concerned about your looks and revealing attire than the actual sport we're here to compete in."

Alice's words cut through the air, her gaze piercing as she locks eyes with Shimmerlace. She takes a moment to stretch her arms, stretching them with a touch of aggression, reflecting her determination to make her point. As the crowd quiets down, Alice continues, her voice filled with a fiery conviction.

"Wrestling isn't just about flashy entrances and gimmicks, Shimmerlace. It's about skill, technique, and the heart of competition. But it seems you've forgotten that in your quest for attention. Your over-the-top persona may captivate the crowd, but it's a distraction from the true essence of this sport."

Alice takes a step closer, her frustration simmering beneath her composed exterior, as she confronts her opponent head-on.

"I'm here to restore honor and respect to female wrestling, to remind people that it's not about selling sex appeal or cheap thrills. It's about showcasing our athleticism, our passion, and our dedication to the craft. And I find it disheartening to see someone like you trivialize it with your shallow antics."

With her statement made, Alice steps back, her eyes still fixed on Shimmerlace, her determination unwavering. She already had a plan, which was the lock up and control her waist from behind to surprise her with her speed. She is ready to prove that her hard work, loyalty, and unwavering commitment to the sport can overcome any superficiality or flashy display. The stage is set for a clash of styles, where traditional values meet flamboyant showmanship, and Alice is determined to make her opponent understand the true essence of wrestling.

[Malkavia]

What struck Shimmerlace most was the lack of an entrance theme. On paper, such a move seemed likely to land poorly. The lack of a clear marker, a clear claim of identity, should have made her appearance seem anticlimactic. In reality, however, Alice's appearance was like a fire extinguisher, explosive in how effectively she cooled the air. The audience faded, and all eyes settled on the upstart knight. Minimalist. The Feychild plucked the inspiration for another day.

Alice respected the ring. She was the type to wipe her feet at the apron, and although her frame suggested a meager kind of weight, she carried herself with obvious athletic polish. As Alice spoke, Shimmerlace leaned the small of her back against her turnbuckle. Bouncing, she cocked her head to one side. Appraised.

The last line, however, earned a belly laugh. Shimmer pushed off the turnbuckle and smacked her hands together, clap, and grinned. "Well me oh my. My shallow antics, out here demeaning the whole sorry wrestling tradition. Dearie me."

Ding!

Shimmer's face darkened as she widened her stance and began to circle. A long thin scar ran down her face. It was a long, nearly white line that cut a jagged but continuous line from her forehead, over cheek, and across a split in her lips. When she smiled, the whole scar wrinkled, casting dark lines up and down her face.

"So, looking at you. Listening to that. I'm guessing...you're real used to hearing what a sweet little girl you are. How smart and good you are. Bet you've been told at least once..." Without giving up her guard, Shimmerlace gestured at her heart, eyes fluttering as her voice quavered. "That you're a God damn inspiration. Yeah?"

Shimmerlace had to put a pin in that thought, however, because Alice made the first move. She was quick. Shimmerlace was, among other things, a stage magician, whose reflexes had been honed to flit faster than an eyeball could track—and our heroic Champion of Tradition still managed to dart forward and slip behind the Feychild before she could say pigshit. This was going to be a problem.

Unfortunately for Alice, Shimmerlace also carried roughly a young buck's worth of weight on her, not to mention several inches, and when her thin arms slipped around Shimmer's tummy and squeezed tight as a seatbelt, Shimmer simply leaned forward, squatted, felt the center of gravity settle between her feat, and aimed to grab Alice's legs in her hands. Piggyback style. Then she'd jump, lifting Alice, and fall — if all went well, dropping her rival pinkette on her tailbone.

[AliceBun]

As Shimmerlace's laughter fills the air, Alice's expression remains stoic, her eyes focused on her opponent's every move. She listens intently, taking in the Feychild's words and observing the scar that marks her face. Alice remains grounded, her determination unwavering, ready to respond.

Alice steps forward, her voice calm but filled with an underlying determination. "Shimmerlace, I'm well aware that my approach to wrestling may seem different from what you're accustomed to. But I've never sought to be seen as a 'sweet little girl' or to be called an inspiration. I'm here to prove myself in this ring, to honor the traditions and values of this sport."

She adjusts her stance, preparing herself for the upcoming clash. "While you may have honed your reflexes as a stage magician, I've dedicated my life to the physical and mental demands of wrestling. Your tricks and antics may catch the eye, but they won't derail my focus. I'm here to showcase the true essence of this sport, and that means overcoming any obstacle in my path."

With a burst of agility, Alice swiftly grabs her opponent from behind, her athletic prowess on full display. She maintains her composure, her eyes locked on her opponent "You see, Shimmerlace, wrestling isn't just about flashy moves or grand entrances. It's about the competition, the skill, and the heart that we bring to the ring. I may not have the same flair as you, but I possess the determination and the discipline to rise above."

A smirk plays across Shimmerlace's lips as she takes advantage of the opening. Her slender arms wrap tightly around Alice's legs, squeezing like a vice. Despite Alice's grip around her waist, she finds herself unable to break free from Shimmerlace's hold. The weight disadvantage becomes apparent as Shimmerlace leans forward, squatting and gaining control of the situation. The Feychild then swiftly grabs Alice's legs, securing them in her hands, and with a burst of strength, she lifts Alice off the ground.

Alice's body is suspended in mid-air, her balance teetering on the edge. Alice would try to hook one of her legs in front of Shimmerlace in hopes of locking in the first part of her finisher right off the bat. The crowd watches in anticipation, waiting to see how this high-stakes maneuver will unfold. Alice would fail to surprise Shimmerlace with her move. With precision and control, Shimmerlace falls backward, dropping Alice onto her tailbone, crashing her to the mat, and leaving Alice lying in the center of the ring dazed from the impact as her opponent figures out their next move.

[Malkavia]

Thunk. Feyder-dokle dangle heemer, fuck but it felt lovely to put a clamp on that mouth. The Feychild had popped a lot of jaws and had a lot of bumps in turn, but not many glittered quite this much in her gut. Shimmerlace bit her lip and grinned as she kipped to her feet.

The smart thing, the tactical thing, would've been to round about immediately for a followup. Elbow drop or maybe curbstomp the head. Then make for the ropes and pull out the big guns with the wide wings. But the tactical thing and the thing that gives the show meaning and bite are not always the same thread.

Instead, Shimmerlace leaned against the ropes, looked out to the audience, and gestured at the dazed Alice as if to say Can you believe her? She laughed and shook her head. "Yeah I see that. Some real classical training here."

"Look. Alice." She looked at her boots, tapping one of her toes on the mat, as if to loosen dirt on her sole. "People don't fight wars for heart and discipline. They fight for the love and honor of their gods. For the heroism and gold of their kings. At the behest of myths and the tall sagas of glory and blood. Story, cunt! Story is exactly the beatin' heart of this whole fuckin' gladiatorial art and the martial drum what preceded it. And I'm gonna be the one to beat that truth into your condescending little knight's arse."

"I'll stake my wings on it." By now, Alice would be recovering from her bump. Shimmerlace pushed off the ropes and adopted a more mobile, defensive stance, with her legs wide. "You're gonna admit the superiority of tales and wonderment tonight, Alice. And if you don't." She cracked a smile and pointed at her head. "I'll shave this all off. Break the spell on it and let it grow back blonde. Strip the lace and pink and give up my mystic arts for a whole month. Get all contrite and give some. Eh. Personal devotion to your skill and heart. How's that sound, my fine feathered fuck-face?"

[AliceBun]

Alice's gaze remains steadfast, her determination unshaken by Shimmerlace's words. She absorbs her opponent's taunts, a steely resolve building within her. As Shimmerlace finishes her tirade, Alice steps forward, her voice resonating with unwavering confidence.

"Shimmerlace, you speak of stories and wonderment, of gods and glory. But let me remind you that within those tales of triumph, there's always a hero who faces adversity head-on, who overcomes challenges with skill and heart. That hero is the embodiment of wrestling, the epitome of what we strive to be in this ring." said Alice.

“You're a Young Lioness and you should be walking towards this bright future ahead instead of dashing into a darker path. You’re going down the wrong side of history embracing this grandiose appearance and theatrics like you’re some princess in a fantasy world. All you’re doing is impressing thirsty drunk male fans who only like you for your looks!”. She takes a deep breath, her eyes locked on Shimmerlace's, her every word deliberate. "You see, it's not about sacrificing who we are or altering our appearance for the sake of attention. It's about staying true to ourselves, embracing our unique strengths, and pushing beyond our limits. I accept your terms. I can’t wait to make you submit and admit the truth!"

With a sudden burst of energy, Alice lunges forward, her intention clear. She attempts to seize the opportunity while Shimmerlace is caught up in her own words. Whether she successfully locks in the Abdominal Stretch remains uncertain, the outcome hanging in the balance. As Alice makes her move, she utters her response, her voice filled with unyielding determination. "Tonight, Shimmerlace, the only story that will matter is the one written by our actions in this ring. I'll prove to you and to everyone watching that skill, heart, and the embodiment of wrestling's true essence will prevail."

With the crowd on the edge of their seats, the clash between tradition and spectacle continues. Alice's attempt to assert her dominance in the match is a pivotal moment, one that will determine the course of their encounter. The battle between these two contrasting forces intensifies, and the audience eagerly awaits the unfolding drama that will shape the legacy of this contest.

[Malkavia]

Thirsty young men, was it? Aye, but what of all the lusty young women, ey? What, Alice, has become of the sex-crazed silver foxes? And what about all the various and sundry unnamed horny toads betwixt, hmmmm?

Such failure of imagination did not come as a surprise. Alice's speed on the other hand—that caught Shimmerlace off-guard.

"Ack—!" The first painpoint in a match always had some bite, like the smack of cold water when your girl first dives into a pool. Shimmerlace clenched her teeth, staggering as her shoulder went up and pain pinched at her side.

Right, abdominal stretch... Cringing, Shimmerlace held the move in her mind—and moved quick. Alice had her leg locked over the Feychild's, which was the linchpin of the whole hold. If Shimmerlace could just yank her leg free and step over Alice's own leg, she could rotate on around and — poof, magic! — wind up behind Alice, ready to seize her own abdominal stretch!

Exceeeept—just putting Alice in her own hold wasn't really a pop now, was it? No, the crowd would be bored seeing the same old shit. Nah, if Shimmerlace got Alice in that stretch, she figured she'd grab Alice's free leg between her arms and roll on to her back. Then she'd have one leg trapped all snug between her legs, the other leg wrapped up in her arms, and she could crank those legs apart, wrenching Alice's sweet chivalric virgin pussy wide open...A banana split for our her audience's consideration.

Such were the Feychild's wicked schemes. Whether the Rose Knight would allow such degradation remained to be seen...