Ravenous

[BlackAkuma]

You know, Betsy had smacked a lot of bitches in the face back home. It was how she got her job in the first place. As satisfying as it was, as often as she had done, giving the Raven the five fingers was perhaps the most satisfying experience of her entire life. At least, when it came to inflicting violence.

Everything about it was perfect. The smacking sound of a hand against a cheek and the stunned silence behind it. The feel of skin and bone told her it connected cleanly. The flash of disgusted disdain and disbelief. All of it came together to create a perfect moment, one that Betsy would forever cherish in the fluttering cockles of her heart.

Then, the moment passed, and she got punched in the gut.

While Betsy didn’t know for 100% certain, she figured that Raven was a wrestler if she was here in the first place, and she could tell that she was reasonably built, what with the way she was showing off her body. She figured the woman was strong but hadn't realized how strong until the punch sank deep into her gullet and folded her over. Her gasp turned into a shriek as her hair was yanked upwards, and Raven went to work on her face with those claws.

It wasn’t a good spot to be in, but Betsy was no stranger to scraping up close like this. If Raven was busy holding her head, she wasn’t protecting her face, so she took advantage and swung her around, wide and fast, trying to hit her with a right hook to the head.

[DSX93]

Sweet ole' Betsy's screams were like music to Raven's ears. This was exactly what she needed. To feel her fist ramming into something. Knuckles against the hard bone of the skull. Or in this case, digging into the softness of the gut. Nails fashioned into talons, tearing at flesh. To take control and destroy: That ring was going to leave a bruise. And that, she couldn't let go. Even a snowball would've had a better chance in Hell.

The goth's black lips parted to form a toothy grin. Her hazel eyes were filled to the brim with malevolent intent. "I'm waiting, Betsy! What do you got show me, huh? What do you want me to see so-" And then she got her answer. With a right hook like that, she couldn't really call Betsy generic anymore. Speeding faster than her eye could keep up with while she was so devoted to making her suffer, and hitting hard enough to make her regret wearing heels today. Damn near blasting all of the sense out of her head.

Raven was barely able to catch herself with the help of a now empty chair; this eruption of violence had the others in the room moving. Some to leave, others to find a safe distance from which to watch the spectacle.

[BlackAkuma]

They never show it in the movies, but punching people in the face without gloves sucks. As it turns out, the human skull is really, really hard, and not at all a pleasant thing to be striking, especially when you put a good deal of force behind it. Betsy, of all people, should’ve known better, having an extensive history of punching people in the head and knowing the pain that came with it. Yet, she did it anyway and immediately paid the price - a blazing pain shot through her hand, fractures formed, the kind of stinging agony that she knew wouldn’t fade for days.

But it knocked Raven on her ass. Worth it. So very much worth it.

Betsy fell to a knee after she was released, still reeling from Raven’s hits, but she knew she couldn't stay down for long, not with someone like this hounding after her. She pushed at her knee and forced her way back up, clearing wild hairs from her face as she rose. Her fists came up on reflex, shifting into her traditional boxing stance - eyes focused and forward, feet properly placed.

Her right hand was still stinging from the first punch, but her left had more than enough pepper left in it. ”Want more?”

Regardless of what she wanted, Betsy would give it to her in the form of an uppercut, heading straight for her stomach. Raven seemed proud of it, eager to show it off, so she wanted to see just how durable that midsection was.

[DSX93]

Raven still wasn't hadn't gotten her head on straight when the bitch came at her, but she pushed herself off that chair and sluggishly forth to meet her anyway. Her body had made itself heavier and her brain required some active concentration for her to walk in those boots. A dual bid to get her to sit down somewhere, preferably a doctor's office, but this wasn't the time.

They decided it was when that left hand sped into her gut like a goddamned bullet. Right into her six pack, trying to make a statement. Hers weren't the hardest abs around, but she was still proud of them. It was another hard hit that knocked just enough air out of her lungs, but she knew that if it weren't for her having already been rocked, she would've been able to push through that shit. But she was, so down she went. Onto one knee.

But Raven had something for her ass. When the time was right, she'd swing an arm up between Betsy's legs and into her most sensitive spot.

But whether it hit its mark or not, security would flood into the room before either woman could follow up.

[BlackAkuma]

It took a moment for Betsy to register the low blow. A delayed reaction. Blame it on the adrenaline. But when it hit, oh fuck, did it hit.

She’d been looking to follow up after landing that last hit, wanting to clobber Raven in big, pouty face before the guards could get in. She reeled back for the punch, prepared to bring it crashing down, and that was right about the time that she felt the pain shooting up through her legs. She let out an awkward squawk as it split her up in the middle, a rough hit to her most sensitive part. Her eyes went she dropped to her knees, and security was all over them both in the next moment to make sure she stayed there.

”You, you fucking, hey watch it!” She growled and thrashed as two of the security guards seized her down and pushed her flat, ripping up her jacket in the process. Nothing she could do about that at the moment, so she directed her focus on the source of her problems, glaring hard towards Raven.

”Not done with you, you hear me?” She wriggled one of her arms free just long enough to throw an errant swipe towards Raven, before it was yanked away again. ”You and me in a match, bitch! Anytime, anyplace!”

[DSX93]

Wait for it...Yeah!

Seeing Betsy crumple over was the shot in the arm that Raven needed. The security goons flooding in was a second. She wasn't finished yet. One more. She needed to get one more hit in. Or at least to slice her face again!

The black-haired brawler shot right onto her feet to get that last lick in whatever form she could take, but was only able to take one step before she felt two arms wrapping around her. One around the waist, another over her chest -- oh, hell no. This motherfucker just grabbed a tit!

She didn't see the look that the man had on his face. How his eyes went wide, communicative of the contact being accidental in nature. That he was quicker than Usain Bolt to move his hand didn't register to her. Only that he touched her in the first place. And for that, he had to pay. She swung an elbow back into his face and nailed him in the nose, triggering a spray of blood as it shattered. The goth immediately turned her attention back to the blonde who was being held back. With him dropped, she went right back to being the top priority.

It was perfect. She was ripe for the -- "Goddammit!" Another two stepped in to catch her too, this time managing to avoid grabbing her anywhere that would set her off even further. Not that it really mattered: She kicked, scratched, and punched all the same, both at them and Betsy. Only the latter's challenge would calm her down, if only slightly. Enough to answer the challenge.

"Humiliation, next week!" What better way to break out of the indies than to completely dismantle this shit stain in front of millions? "You better hope and pray that I don't find your bitch ass again before that, because I swear to God, if I do, I'll split your shit open right there!"

Raven waited for her moment. Kept her hazel eyes watching for the slightest opening to slip through so she could follow through on her promise. But the four burly men standing between them would offer not even so much as an inch. So it was settled: Next week.

End of Thread.