Samiya Pedroza vs. Muriel Spencer - A Is For Assassin

[BlackAkuma]

Match Type: Standard
Victory Condition: Pinfall, Submission, or Knockout

***

‘Schoolgirl Assassin’. Such an ominous nom de guerre.

Muriel repeated that name a few times in her head as she made her way down to the ring, strutting as her

https://youtu.be/6rKI9ZG9zmk?si=u1dL1Be0SNCk1Uwj

played behind her. It wasn’t the easiest thing to stay focused amidst the bellowing din of the crowd, but years of experience had taught her how to tune them out when need be. While she was glad for their cheers and support, she needed to focus for the task ahead. From what she had studied, it would be quite a test.

Samiya Pedroza. American-born, Florida to be specific, with quite a pedigree behind her. Muriel had dug into her future foe, as any wrestler worth her salt would do, and what she found was impressive. While the woman was only now stepping onto the world stage, she had made no small name for herself within her community, one of the biggest fish in the small pond in which she swam. The matches Muriel saw and the testimonies she read painted the picture of a dedicated, talented young woman with a fit body and a keen mind. A promising prospect with boundless potential. It was not hard to see why LAW had taken such a shine to her.

It was also not hard to see why she had been picked for one of Samiya’s first matches. What better test for a newcomer than to see how she would handle herself against a veteran, a known quantity? Some might have saw it as demeaning for someone of her pedigree, but Muriel viewed it as an opportunity for them both. After all, wrestling was a sport of tradition, where knowledge was passed down from generation to generation.

As the old guard, it fell upon her to support her successors to give them the tools they would need to succeed. If Muriel accomplished only that tonight, she would call this a rousing success.

…she was also partly aware that, perhaps, she had just been chosen as Samiya’s opponent because of the woman’s moniker and her own role as a teacher, hoping for some sort of tawdry fetishizing and schoolgirl play. Muriel wanted to think better of management until given a good reason not to. For now, she went with the more charitable possibility.

With that in mind, she carried herself with pride down the ramp, head held high and chest out, moving with a purpose. She made her way up the steps, slipped through the ropes, and promptly skipped over to her corner so she could be her stretching routine. Knee-to-chest, left to right, quadrips, toe-touches, as much as she could do to get limber in short order. She suspected she would need her full faculties for what came next.

Teach me, Ms. Spencer

[Liesmith]

Samiya Pedroza might not know which LAW exec had dreamt this one up but she was betting they’d given themselves a nice, fat bonus for it.

C’mon, boys. Girl calls herself the Schoolgirl Assassin. So you stick her in – wait for it – a schoolgirl costume.

Applause, applause.

Samiya knew she looked good and she had zero problems showing it. She also knew that, when it came to places like LAW, those looks were at least as important as her ability to kick ass in the ring.

Shocking, she knew.

She didn’t even mind playing dress up. But it was going to be on her terms and for her benefit, not because some rich, pervy old sicko in management wanted to get his rocks off.

Thus, when Samiya prowled out onto the stage, she was wearing a schoolgirl costume. Or, perhaps, what had been a schoolgirl costume before its owner had a close, personal encounter with Freddy Krueger.

The short skirt, the knee high socks and black boots; those were largely intact, the only modifications slits to allow Samiya to kick freely. But the jacket was a sleeveless shadow of its former self and, as for the shirt? Sleeveless as well and much of the lower half removed until the Schoolgirl Assassin had been able to tie it into a tight knot below her more than ample bust, leaving her taut midsection bared.

Pulling the hand tape that wrapped her arms up to her biceps tight, the purple haired fighter paused to survey the arena with a dead-eyed sneer before making her way down the ramp with a hip-swiveling strut. Leaping up onto the ring apron with easy grace, she paused, planting her feet wide in a solid stance before suddenly slashing her thumb across her throat in a savage arc – her music cut in the same awful gesture.

A heartbeat later and she was through the ropes, sauntering over to her corner to perform her final stretches, kicking a leg up to rest on the top cable and leaning into it.

She glanced back over her shoulder, those cold dark eyes resting on her blonde foe for a moment. From the moment she’d been told who she was facing, Samiya had decided precisely one thing about this match and she’d rededicated herself to that with every hour she’d spent diving into tape of the taller, more experienced wrestler’s matches.

People were going to remember it, but not for the stupid outfits.

They were going to remember it for her kicking Muriel Spencer’s head in.

[BlackAkuma]

Schoolgirl Assassin, indeed.

Despite the name, Muriel had sussed out that her opponent didn’t have any sort of gimmick to go along with the title, certainly not in the same way that Ms. Welsh still wore pleated skirts and a buttoned top - a silly thing to don at her current age, and doubly so considering the school from which they hailed didn’t have any dress code to start with.

She had expected the woman to come out in regular attire - or, at least, as regular as wrestling attires ever were. Instead, she was wearing something more apropos for her name, albeit with a dark, hellish twist that her metal-loving former student would have approved of. Modifications had been made, like to accommodate her in combat, and she had the attitude to match.

There was an intense, focused flair about this woman, as she made her way down to the ring with a purpose. Management might have convinced her to wear this getup, but that didn’t mean she was taking this as a joke. This was to be a real bout, trappings aside, and Muriel prepared herself for the clash. If the tape were anything of which to go by, she had her work cut out for her.

Before they began, however, she made her way to the center of the ring and extended her hand, hoping to start this off with a cordial air. ”Ms. Pedroza.” She straightened up and tossed her head back, clearing her face of stray hairs. ”A pleasure to meet you. I very much hope you can say the same.”