Match Type: Two Out of Three Falls Match Rules: Victory by pinfall, submission, or knockout. Whichever wrestler wins two out of three fall will win the match.
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It was time. Once again, Yuki Kazikura was heading to the ring for another match - and once again, she had no idea what lay in store for her. When the last few matches of her career had seen her take some crushing defeats no matter how hard she tried or how high the stakes were - and with her rivalry with Angelina Tarrant only climbing to new heights as the Marauder saw fit to terrorize her even in her day-to-day life - Yuki had a lot weighing on her mind leading into this one. Her past struggles had told her many things, but there was one thing in particular that stuck in her mind, and one thing in particular that she didn't want, under any circumstances, to believe - that she was past her prime; that she was nothing more than a washed-up has-been. That if she couldn't overcome the challenges in her way, and she couldn't surpass Angelina, she had nowhere to go. She had questioned herself about that many a time, and it seemed that Angelina had been able to latch onto that lingering doubt and hold it over her head - and now, it seemed closer and more threatening than ever before.
But if Yuki had any hope for the future...she needed to keep going. If she gave in and accepted defeat, she would just be letting Angelina win - and Rose Gold, and everyone who had ever questioned her and spurned her. No, she needed to keep going in order to defy them. She needed to show the world that she wouldn't let herself be conquered. That she still had a future. And for Yuki, there was no better way to do that than what she had always been doing - to get in the ring, and give it her all. No matter how worried she was, or how afraid she was...Yuki needed to do that as much. At least, she hoped that would be enough - but those were the thoughts that were running through her head as she hung back in the locker room, her forehead pressed against the wall as she sucked in deep breaths to ease her nerves.
"Coming first to the ring, from Yokohama, Japan!! At 5'4, weighing 118 pounds, YUKI KAAAAAAZIKURAAAA!!"
That was her cue - no turning back now! Spoiler
Music
As Yuki stepped out from behind the curtains, her music hit - and it was capped off by a burst of excitement from the stands, with the fans cheering and chanting calls of encouragement. For a moment, Yuki looked out toward them, and the corners of her lips began to turn upward into a smile - but not for long. Much as she liked the support, she wasn't here to entertain the crowd. Yuki was here for herself - to prove that she had what it took. And when she turned her attention to the ring and marched down the ramp, that was all that was on her mind. There was no room for distractions or showmanship - this was Yuki's fight. And as she hopped over the top rope to settle her feet on the canvas, she was prepared to step up to the plate.
Doubts were detractive and ugly. And compelling at once.
They stand, not as a physical limitation, but one inside your head. It impedes nothing. But by belief, sheer thought, the body becomes weaker. More willing to give up. Cracks are bigger than they are, and the falls hurt, more, and more, growing increasingly inevitable and at the end of this long painful tunnel, there’s one thing inexcusably lost: faith. Vorona was both Queen, Teacher and Sergeant of holding her underling's faith. Especially to the girl in her lap, raring to go. A ginger smile, so eager to please, and a hint of daring underneath those fine, fine purple eyes.
Winter Songbird stroked Vorona’s hair with the back of her index and middle. They said nothing to each other, but conversed in touch. A dominating clasp on Winter’s waist, hands spread, firm but not rough. Up, then down, around the back and her black-nail traced the valley of Winter’s spine. Winter enjoyed playing with the strands of Vorona’s hair, the eccentricities and layered length, the black and white portions, its twists and turns and the long red-white ponytail that she stroked, picked up and wrapped around her forearm until taut.
Vorona glanced, as if saying, ‘You’re awfully bold, tonight.’ And Winter listened, then smirked, replying wordlessly, ‘Yes.’
Fine then, her Sun said, leaning back against the wall so Winter can use the hair-tangle like her leash, stand on her knees on the bench and loom with that same daring intent. She didn’t look Vorona in the eye, but instead closed her own, leaned down and went to--
KNOCK KNOCK.
The pair stopped, shared a sigh and peered at the door. Time to go, the voice called. They shared a moment of in-sync malice for being told anything. But, on the other side was a perfect victim. They knew that and so forgave the first obstruction. Now comes Winter’s new favourite tradition. She pulled Vorona’s eye mask that sat in her ethereal angel-wing crown, then placed it delicately on Vorona’s face. The final touch of a masterpiece. Locking eyes, Vorona finally said, with a sneer full of intent that Winter loved. “Ready to depart?” And Winter said with mild disappointment, “Yessing.”
Vorona cupped her cheek, “It’s just yes, darling. Just yes.”
Winter gave a firm thumbs up and jotted it down, then backed up to let Vorona stand. As usual, Winter took point and put her hand on the handle. “Kick him in the balls.” Vorona whispered into her ear. And when they got to the other side, Winter did just that, once, twice and a knee for good measure. Now, onto the show. Winter's Tune
Winter's Look
Lights! They were quiet. Or rather, a scene of dark winter evening, with snowfall on the Titantron. Wind howled into a whistle, and a candle penetrated the shadows, coming forth to the ramp. Winter Songbird, purple, white and pink. She wore a satin dress with an X-patterned eye-mask, swaying and singing an ethereal sound, carrying through the rows and columns. It lasted thirty seconds, drifting off until she held the candle over her head and was blown out by seemingly nothingness.
Then, a spotlight from above. CLICK.Vorona's Theme in earnest
Vorona stood behind her a head taller. And finally, that wicked violin played. Its lead melody was as elegant and growing as Vorona was approaching, wearing a full white coat with black fur collar and red jewels. “And her opponent, from Vladivostok, Russia, at five-foot-four and weighing in at one-hundred and twenty-two pounds! Voooroooonaaaaa!” After the guttural tone to say to her name, there was boos and silence. From the moment they walked down that ramp under a thin rain of black and white feathers to the steel steps. Vorona stopped, turned around and said, “Not this time. Remember where I said I needed you?” Vorona questioned and Winter nodded solemnly, longing to dance inside the ring still. She swallowed it without fuss and Vorona kissed her on the forehead, leaving a mark of black lipstick. “Then go.”
And so Winter did, taking Vorona’s coat and carefully folding it. She then tucked herself onto all fours and rolled underneath the apron, out of sight. Vorona continued into the ring, weaving between bottom and middle rope, then standing to fix her arm sleeves. A black leotard to boot, black lace-ups, a translucent belly window with an emblem tattoo right over her belly button. She was slim and slick, curvy but also compact, lithe and had her legs full of fishnets, from her thighs, to her bubbly rump and exposed waist that cut around her skin-tight fit. Black nails, black lipstick, a whole lot of eyeliner and red X-pupiled eyes sitting between a masquerade-style eye mask. That’s Yuki’s opponent for the day. And Vorona knew just who she was approaching: a lightweight superstar known LAW-wide for her prodigy skills, slew of dangerous rivals, worthy of not only a kick in her toothless gums, but a painting depicting that look they had: faithlessness. Vorona
Vorona kept her steel and stepped towards the middle of the ring, tall-postured and with a chin slightly tipped up to glance downward, casting her seniority. A hand went across her gut and she slid one foot back and bowed like a prince.. “Might I say I do love when a tragedy falls in my lap. ” She raised her head, then dressed herself in a villainous sneer. “Consider this its continuation, little one.”
Last edited by Monsy on Sat Apr 06, 2024 3:21 pm, edited 4 times in total.
Now that Yuki was in the ring, it was time for her opponent to make an entrance. And right from the start, Yuki could tell that she and her opponent were almost perfectly poised to butt heads. Yuki's entrance had been a simple one - no frills, no flips, no showboating or photo ops; she was just here to make her way to the ring, where she'd let her actions do the talking. Even with plenty of main event bouts under her belt, Yuki still held to the belief that she wasn't above her fans; she was one of them - just a person pursuing her passions in the best way she knew how. But this Vorona cut a tall and imposing presence that dwarfed her height from the moment she arrived. The lights, the music, the fur coat, the fact that she had Winter hanging on her every word - it all cultivated the sense of something larger than life. Something that told Yuki the woman she was up against was confident she was better than her. Yuki was an athlete; Vorona conducted hersel like a goddess. And if she was so convinced she was better, then surely, for her, she was already convinced that Yuki could barely be called a threat. That this would be easy.
But that just made it all the more important that whatever Yuki did, she couldn't let things be that easy. She was here to show the world she could handle herself, no matter what - if Vorona wanted to cut her down, she just had to prove her wrong! Taking in slow, deep breaths to try and center her nerves, the Japanese girl stood a little straighter, and she clenched a fist at her side, her body going firm. Whatever she did...she couldn't let Vorona get in her head.
But from the way Vorona was acting, it would seem that she had convinced herself she already had. She opened her mouth to finally address her foe, and at the sound of her voice, Yuki raised an eyebrow curiously to her quips. "A...tragedy? What's that supposed to mean?"
Her suspicions seemed like they were already confirmed. Vorona thought nothing of her. But Yuki couldn't lose her cool. Her expression remained fixed and stony; she didn't even break her stare as she stepped up closer to Vorona, puffing out her chest to stand firm against her. She couldn't flinch, and she couldn't back down. If Vorona was so convinced she'd be weak and helpless, it was up to Yuki to deliver the rebuttal. "Awfully presumptuous of you to say that, I'd think..."
It was true.
Her initial opinion of dear Kazikura was a civilian: unartistic and unexpressive. That meagre chest didn’t change anything about that. She felt; knew hers was much bigger. It still, however, reeked of displacement. Vorona existed as walking artistry, on this stage, a squared circle, an exhibit, a theatre... Anywhere... She believed herself the masterpiece, now, confronted by an audience member. A "local" talent.
In short: Yuki didn’t belong beside her.
And that mild whiff of stone on those defiant shallow lips, trying to share the same space with an artist…
Why… Ain’t that just rich and revolting.
So Vorona stood up, stepped in, the arm across her midsection remained as the other elbow rested in the palm, the hand delicately cupping her own cheek. Her manners kept from making her distaste too visible, but her composure softened to someone totally relaxed, confident and one can say slightly smug… “It's far better to believe in myself than to say defeat is possible, dear.” Then Vorona reached out and attempted to hook Yuki’s yellow strap from over her collar. With one index finger, she’d pull on, then tilt her head down, gazing with black and red eyes “And like I’d change that for someone so uninspired.”
The strap was allowed to snap back to Yuki’s collar, then leaned in with her hands remaining where they were “Just where are your cheekbones, little one?” Her eyes left Yuki’s, and travelled down. “Your lips too… Plain as your hair and as boring as your eyes” The criticisms continued… She stared directly at Yuki’s chest, and her tongue clicked. “And with so little form…” Then she began slowly walking around her, looking down, studying... “No curves…” To their backside.
“Sub-par posterior.” She came three-quarters of a full circle, then stopped. “And legs that couldn’t break a twig. Your arms too...” She let out a loud sigh, hand delicately over her own face, feigning disappointment… “Yes, little one. I’m presumptuous. You’re a tragedy, as I said. A simple, plain and an impotent yellow stain that belongs amongst the ordinary.” And finally, she peeked a frown. “I am going to strip all of it off. You’ll count each and every light on the ceiling.”
Last edited by Monsy on Fri Feb 09, 2024 11:17 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Yuki had made it clear from the moment she and Vorona were in the ring together that she wasn't going to back down, and she wasn't going to let herself be intimidated. Which was why, when Vorona regarded her as flippantly and casually as someone who had just stepped up to her on the street, it wore on her nerves as much as it did. Her teeth clenched, and her fists balled tighter at her side. She'd just stepped up to make a case for herself - and Vorona wasn't taking her seriously at all.
When Yuki felt her shoulder strap snap into place against her skin, she winced, her hand shooting up to grab at the stinging sensation. "Hey..!" she grumbled. But by then, the white-haired girl had already begun scanning her up and down, studying her body from every angle. Even at her most helpless, Yuki had scarcely ever felt so exposed to the world. Vorona's gaze was like a thousand catepillars dragging themselves along her pores, making her keenly aware of her own body, how much it held her opponent's attention, and how little she cared for it. Naturally, when the topic turned to her petite physique, it made Yuki feel that all the more - and it made her cheeks flush red as she jerked away from Vorona out of instinct.
"HEY-!" Her eye twitched. She felt like she was back in the locker rooms, having to hide from the stuck-up popular girls who had to remind her of how inadequate her own body was at any moment. Vorona wouldn't leave well enough alone. She didn't even consider her worth taking seriously as an opponent - only as a toy to be played with; as a medium for her artistic experiments. The thought of Vorona humiliating her in front of so many eyes made the bile rise in the pit of Yuki's stomach. But at the same time...if she thought she'd even get that far, Yuki would show her just how sorely mistaken she was.
The moment Vorona was facing her, and the moment she'd come to the end of her monologue, Yuki's eyes fixed on her with a cold, humorless expression - one that, she hoped at least, would show just how little she was going to play along with her schemes. "Knock. It. Off." She took a step closer, crossing the gap between them with one swoop of her leg; her hands went to Vorona's shoulders and shoved. "If you're in the ring with me, you're my opponent. We came here for a match. You're going to take me seriously, or we're just wasting our time."
Why wouldn’t they be? They had something to give that ninety-nine percent couldn’t dream of. They can fight. Rather, fight in the artform as dangerous as professional wrestling. But what Vorona found also, was the very human vulnerability in their emotions. Volatile. That if she prodded correctly, repeatedly and from many sides: they can be reduced to something... less. Then she’d be at the control board, aware, always nudging the confrontation where she wanted to go.
And that’s what she felt here. A comment here, a gesture there… And a promise now. Counting the lights.
Kazikura already seemed on the backfoot, embellishing Vorona’s confidence already. Her opponent was cute in that way. A little jumpy in such a cute simple outfit. A blush that left you wanting more of it. Mix that with the stench of insecurity, and Vorona’s frown can hardly stay grumpy.
But Yuki shoved. Vorona’s tall posture was unbalanced and she stumbled two steps back, then one more quick backstep. She stopped dead on the spot. Then she dusted the spot Yuki’s hands touched. “Wasting time?”
A squint. The referee dropped her arms to her side, slumped shoulders and made a dead face. ‘Here we go again.’
“I do take you seriously.” Then, she stepped in, FIRMLY, then took another step to bring their distance mere centimetres. “For what you are, that is.” Another step. Vorona’s chest pushed into Yuki’s much smaller mounds. Stomach to stomach. Vorona’s leg to the outside, crossing Yuki’s outer thigh. Eye-to-Eye, practically identical in size. “Little. One.”
Cameras flashed for such a pose. Their mutual coldness. Whistles from the front row. And a pink face from the referee, stalling to do their job for just a little more of… this…
Hype? Lets call it hype...
‘KICK HER ASS, KAZIKURA!’ Said one crowd member. ‘YOU GOT THIS, YUKI!’ Said another… 'PUNCH HER IN THE BOOB!' And... another!
Vorona knew what she was doing - Yuki was sure of it. Even before a single punch had been thrown, she had made the first attack of this match merely through the act of comparing herself to her opponent. In that way, she was attacking Yuki where it really hurt. In her confidence. In her belief that she was enough. Yuki had been through many trials and tribulations that had left her questioning just how much she really deserved to be in LAW - and Vorona, in the way she cast scorn on her foe; in the way she looked down on her, was insinuating that Yuki had every reason to feel so uncertain. The grand entrance, the way she held her body, even the mocking comments about her physique - it all set Vorona up as the proud, defiant, confident one, and Yuki couldn't help but look subpar beside her. Yuki didn't know what it was that had tipped Vorona off to this, but she had certainly spotted where her weak spots were. And like a shark smelling blood in the water, she was going after them.
In fact, even when Yuki tried to push Vorona away - just to make her case that she wouldn't let herself be belittled like this - it hardly seemed to rattle the Russian woman at all. Once again she sauntered toward Yuki, cool and collected. Yuki's breaths slowed as Vorona came closer; she could feel the warmth radiating off her skin even before she muscled her way in. When Vorona's breasts flattened into Yuki's own, making her all the more aware of how inadequate hers must have seemed by comparison, and when every word sank deep beneath Yuki's skin - that emphasis on little one making her eye twitch even more - it was a show of dominance. And she knew it.
Their bodies were flat against each other; their very presence in the same ring was a challenge. Yuki's heart was pounding in her chest, and Vorona could no doubt feel it from how close they were. For a moment, they stared into each others' eyes. They could feel every ripple going through one anothers' bodies as muscles tensed. Both could feel the tension in the air, and both were waiting for the moment it would break. All Yuki knew was one thing - she couldn't back down.
The fans shouted their encouragment to her, but such words were lost on the dark-haired girl. The only thing that mattered to her was Vorona - and proving she wouldn't be bullied into submission by her. But then...had she been, already? Vorona had been out to bother Yuki and make her uneasy - to throw her off her game. And was that not exactly what was happening, right now? In letting herself be this rattled, was Yuki only setting herself up for trouble? It was a thought that bubbled up in the back of her head, but it hung over her like a menacing shadow nonetheless - and one that she just couldn't shake off.
It was that fact, that worry, that made Yuki even more nervous than anything that Vorona could do herself. She wanted to stay in control...but who was in control here, really? Her hands began to clench and unclench at her sides as she tried to vent her energy, and her breaths quickened. She wanted to make a move. But was that a blow against Vorona...or a concession toward her?
At last, as it seemed like the match wasn't about to start any time soon, the referee stepped in between the two girls, moving to push them aside. "Okay, that's enough, back to your corners..."
Vorona was confident she had Yuki stirred. Now, a proud and powerful wrestler off her game, with open cracks that can be pried. As was the substandard mental strength of the common person, unaesthetic, unripe and pliable. It turned Vorona into a smiling witch, looking directly at Yuki’s eyes through the mask.
At the very least, Yuki didn’t back down from their stand-off. It gave Vorona a cue of knowledge and a reminder that she’d need to continue her ways to change this. To make her reel from such a standoff again and never look at her with such conviction again, but keep the unsteady heartbeat. The uncertain breathing . Delicious.
Eventually, it came time to part. Vorona felt victorious in this exchange, but in a way that enticed her to continue her ways. She went to her corner, giving her back, and running a hand through her long ponytail with its silver, black and red highlight. She closed her eyes, sighed with satisfaction, then ran her hand along the rope adjacent to her corner. Her back against it, she looked on.
No doubt Yuki was in her corner too.
The referee did their final checks.
Checking the boots by taps on the knee and a tap on the foot for foreign objects.
To Yuki and to Vorona.
Then, once both wrestlers were ready and the formality passed, the referee called for the bell!
DING DING!
And in that moment, Vorona’s …. Well… Winter’s plan was triggered! Having been hiding herself for a little while, she had been rubbing her hands together underneath the ring, moving and crawling over stuff to get to the other end. Now the angelic songbird had arisen at Yuki’s corner, standing, then grabbing onto Yuki’s ankle with two hands. “Hazzzah!” Winter shouted.
Now she just needed to hold on.
Long enough for Vorona to stride from her corner, stern but fully aware of what Winter was doing, and in fact, having a smugness that showed she knew this was going to happen from the start. And now, it was time to seize her prey, by lunging forward, and attempting to tie Yuki up, collar and elbow, and force her against her own corner!
With both girls retreating to their respective corners, Yuki's eyes lingered on Vorona. Just when she wanted to strike out, to wipe that smug grin off her face, the referee had taken that away from her. She was still quivering with all the pent-up anger Vorona had left inside of her, and she had no way to let it out. All because of interference. Her fingers coiled tighter - if she could just get her hands around her throat and squeeze, then...
No. Yuki quickly stopped and shook that thought out of her head. Why was she thinking such things? Doubting the rules, as if she was the sort of ruthless rulebreaker she'd come to despise? Already, she knew, she had let herself get rattled. Vorona had thrown the first blow when it came to her mind games, and in reacting to it, in getting too jumpy, Yuki had let it land. No doubt, Vorona knew that. No, Yuki didn't even have to speculate; the smug, confident look on her face told her everything she needed to know on that front. Before the match had even begun, Vorona had the edge; she had managed to break Yuki's composure, and with it, that crystal-clear focus that had carried the joshi wrestler to victory in many a match before. The tension still hadn't left Yuki's body - her muscles were still firm and tense, and her teeth clenched as her eyes narrowed into a glare; her fingers wrapped tighter around the ropes at her sides. This wasn't going to be easy. And if she let Vorona get in her head, it could only take a turn for the worse.
As the referee checked over both of them, Yuki's breaths slowed. She needed to calm down, she told herself - going up against Vorona in such a state wouldn't do her any favors. It looked like she wasn't carrying any foreign objects, so that at least was a reassurance, though the fact that Winter wasn't checked left a sour taste in Yuki's mouth - she could easily hand her partner a weapon at any time; she wouldn't put it past them.
And in fact, it seemed that Yuki's apprehensions about Winter were warranted. Just as soon as the bell rang, she was prepared to take a step closer, heading toward the center of the ring to engage Vorona face to face...only for Winter to grab onto her ankle! "W-Whoah..!!" With a gasp, Yuki veered forward with her momentum; she threatened to lose her balance and go falling over for a moment, but managed to catch her balance. Still, it wouldn't do her much good when she had still bought Vorona enough time to close in on her - and the next thing she knew, the white-haired girl had grabbed a hold of her, controlling her momentum and shoving her back up against the turnbuckles!
Yuki grit her teeth, her muscles going tense as she struggled against the pressure bearing down on her. She twisted and turned from side to side, her body grinding up against Vorona's harder as she wormed her way closer. She tried to lean in against her with her full weight, trying to push Vorona back from her, but she refused to budge - and the fact that Winter still held fast to her ankle wasn't helping matters! Grumbling under her breath, Yuki tried to shake her ankle to break free of her grasp. Either way, though, she had started the match off on the wrong foot - and that left her nowhere she needed to be!
Vorona was sure to have Little One in the right mindset. Likely unsettled by some emotion, weakened and pliable to a hold of her choosing. That glare that Yuki gave, seemed so full of it, with a mix of focus perhaps to start the match and prove the artist wrong. Vorona wanted to see all that drizzle away by the end, into a puddle of tears of snot, ego-less and tasteless, just like her simple leotard that showed Yuki can never match an aesthetic icon like she was.
The confidence Vorona had when that bell rang was staggering. And well deserved too! Because Yuki immediately tripped, by the will of God himself and nothing else! Plus Yuki's own ineptitude on-top of that in a 50-50 split of pure simpleton tragedy. “What's wrong, little one?” Vorona said, locking up with dear Yuki, the Dynamite Schoolgirl in the flesh, and pressing her clean against the turnbuckles!
A foot braced behind her. Vorona smirked. “Do I scare you?” Her well-endowed chest pushed against Yuki’s flatter pair for the second time. And the shake of Yuki’s ankle made it difficult for Winter to keep assisting. The crowd immediately darted boos. Some even pointed! Like Yuki simps and tattletales! Winter shook her head at them and made an audibly loud shushing noise. The referee moved her head around, searching and then faintly pointing after a confused shrug, then finally coming over to see what was wrong. By then, Winter had released her grip with hands tied behind her back, skipping along the outside of the ring like a happy angel.
Vorona, meanwhile, used the moment of distraction to take a claw of black fingernails and rake them down Yuki’s face, from forehead to chin! She’d grab Yuki’s hair, then yank it so the back of Yuki’s head was folded on-top of the top turnbuckle pad. Then, she’d bring herself up close. A thigh between Yuki's legs. Her tummy window pressed against Yuki’s in similar height. She stood tall over Yuki, glancing down with a scornful and judging gaze, thinking them puny and weak, stretchable and more! The perfect victim to be painted! "I'm going to love this easy victory."
Winter, at ringside, stopped to stand-by with prayer hands, blowing a kiss. Vorona, with sheer confidence in her control, would look to Winter and recuperate the gesture, with one hand still in Yuki’s hair as the referee began its five count.
