Style Clash! - Skye Maddox vs Moona Hoshinova [Standard*]

[Parker]

Match Type: Standard, One Fall
Victory Conditions: Pinfall, submission, knockout, count out, or disqualification.
Special Stipulation: Hentai moves are permitted.

Blue Stahli - ULTRAnumb

The arena lights dimmed to a cool steely blue, the low thrum of the crowd shifting as anticipation filled the air. A pulse of bass rolled through the speakers, steady, powerful, before Skye’s theme hit in full, its rhythm sharp and driving.

From behind the curtain,

stepped into the light, her silhouette framed against a haze of pale that had been rolling in over the stage. The picture of poise, she stood with head held high, her expression one of quiet confidence and focused drive. As she stepped onto the stade she moved with a slow but ease gait, like each footfall has a purpose so no motion was wasted.

She paused at the top of the ramp, the flicker of strobe lights tracing the outline of her frame before she rolled her shoulders back, and stretched her neck from side to side with a soft grunt. Her eyes scanned the crowd, spying a fair share of signs out and emblazoned just for her and a small crack of a smile tugged at her lips. A small exhale, and she proceeded.

She didn’t shout for attention or do some silly dance for the crowd. She wasn’t about theatrics, she was about the craft. The weight of her presence and performance carried in how she conducted herself making her feel important for even those unaware of her impressive history outside of LAW.

As the beat picked up, Skye began her walk toward the ring, boots echoing against the ramp with a measured rhythm. She tagged the side of the barricade with a light tap of her hand as she passed a cluster of fans, the briefest acknowledgment before her gaze lifted again to the squared circle waiting under the lights.

Reaching ringside, she pulled herself up onto the apron. Her fingers traced the top rope as she wiped her boot off along the apron, then in one smooth motion, and stepped between the ropes. She moved to claim her far distance corner, waiting now for the last piece of tonight's puzzle, her opponent . Her focus sharpened immediately, calm but electric, the kind of energy that said everything without needing a word.

[EgoEnjoyer]

Once Skye had settled in the ring, the lights in the arena shifted to a deep shade of purple as Moona Hoshinova made her appearance, casually strutting onto the ramp with her hands clasped behind her back. Her lips moved in a way that vaguely resembled a smile as she leaned over and winked at the woman waiting in the ring.

She started down the ramp, a slight skip in her step, revealing that she was holding a small pink handbag behind her back. She didn't pay much attention to the crowd either. She didn't usually receive a particularly warm welcome from them, but their tune did tend to change once she got to work.

From the way Moona carried herself, one might think she had no clue just who she was facing. Truth was, she didn't, but the way Skye behaved told her everything she needed to know. The woman was too serious for her own good, but Moona would show her how to loosen up a bit.

Finally Moona reached the ring and slid inside, leaving her handbag in the corner. She propped herself up and looked across the ring at her opponent. The look on her face... there was no fooling her. Might as well get straight to the point.

Before Skye had a chance to utter more than a few words Moona stuck her hand out to stop her. "Let's skip the pleasantries, I'm sure you'd rather get straight to beating each other senseless." A smirk crept across Moona's face as she decided to slip in one goading remark and looked Skye up and down, admiring her. "Oh, and I hope you don't mind the match stipulations, I sure don't~"

Spoiler

[Parker]

When Moona appeared on the stage, Skye drew in a deep breath. This was the big leagues now. Just because her opponent had questionable ring gear didn't mean they couldn't pose a challenge. She had to shove down her own distaste and simply adapt to how things were here. Though… as she made her way down the ramp the fact she had a handbag with her was enough to arch and eyebrow. Skye shook her head slowly, raking fingers through her hair to try and mask the incredulous look on her face.

When Moona entered the ring Skye straightened up a bit, idly checking her wrist tape again. She was content to give the woman a simple nod of acknowledgement. It seemed her opponent took that as a chance to banter… about not wanting to banter. The whole interaction was strange, down to her mentioning the match rules for some reason. It all came down to a pinfall or submission. What else mattered.

“Suit yourself.” Skye said with an impassioned shrug, stepping away from the corner. She set her boots with a light spring in her step, lowering her body, hands up and ready. When the bell rang, she’d move in to meet Moona head on. Rather than adhering to unspoken ring etiquette though her opening move wasn't to go for a tie up, but instead snap a foot out to try and catch her in the stomach with a toe kick, looking to grapple only after she gave herself the obvious edge.

[EgoEnjoyer]

Moona frowned at Skye's reaction. Just as she thought words unfortunately seemed to have little effect on her. The woman's mind must be like a fortress, it's walls deflecting whatever nasty thoughts Moona could conjure up. Either that or she was just too stupid to understand her. Yeah, that was probably it. Oh well, nothing you can do about that. Moona would just have to break her down the old fashioned way.

DING!!!

Moona stepped forward when the bell rang, eager to get her hands on Skye. She was clearly a grappler so Moona predicted a tie-up incoming. Once that happened it wouldn't be hard for her to- "UGH!" Moona guessed wrong, and Skye's foot shot out faster than she could react. Her boot slammed into the purple-haired heel's chest and winded her, causing her to stumble back a couple feet.

"Ngh... you bitch..." Moona clutched her stomach and took a deep breath while staring daggers at her opponent. Once she had caught her breath she would lash out in retaliation, lunging forward and trying to clock Skye with her elbow.

[Parker]

The moment Moona folded even slightly from the boot to the stomach, Skye was already on the move. There was no hesitation, no wasted motion, just that cold, precise efficiency that came from countless hours drilling the same transitions over and over again.

As Moona clutched at her midsection and wheezed, Skye was practically on her. The purple-haired woman’s elbow came flying in wild, desperate, but the redhead weaved beneath it, her body cutting a smooth line through the air as the strike brushed just above her shoulder. Skye was already inside her guard before Moona could recover, stepping deep and tight on her flank.

Her arms shot out like steel cables, attempting to lock around Moona’s torso. The sound that came next was almost mechanical, the low, guttural exhale of effort followed by the sharp clap of impact as Skye’s hands met behind Moona’s other side. The pressure was immediate. It wasn’t a hold; it was a vice. Muscles flexed in taut definition, her stance solid as bedrock. For a second, it might have looked like the redhead intended to squeeze her into submission right there.

She dipped her hips and let out a low grunt of exertion, her boots grinding against the canvas as she lifted ,not delicately, but decisively. She’d try to rip Moona’s feet off th mat in a single, powerful surge, her body hauled up and over like she weighed nothing at all. The audience’s collective gasp followed as Skye arched back, every muscle in her frame taut as a bowstring.

She would try to hurl Moona across the ring with a reverse side suplex, leaving momentum and gravity to decide how bad the damage was. One thing was certain, Skye was far stronger than her compact frame seemed to suggest.

[EgoEnjoyer]

Moona's strike hit nothing but air as the redhead ducked underneath and quickly closed the gap. Before she could try again Skye had already wrapped her arms around Moona, crushing her with a surprising amount of force. Moona groaned and her hands instinctively moved to try and pry herself free from her opponent's iron grip but Skye's strength was seemingly insurmountable.

Panic set in as soon as her feet left the ground. She continued to struggle despite knowing there was nothing more she could do to stop the maneuver at this point. Her flailing body crashed down onto the mat headfirst before flipping over and ending up on her knees, squeaking out a pained grunt as the impact winded her.

She pushed herself up onto her feet but her head was spinning and she could barely stand straight. The purple-haired woman wobbled, then stumbled backwards. She would have fallen over had the ropes not caught her.

Moona rested against the ropes, furious but too stunned to show it. Whoever this woman was she was much stronger than anyone Moona had faced before. She definitely wasn't going to be able win this fairly, not that she had planned to anyways.

[Parker]

Skye wasn’t about flash or flourish. She didn’t need the crowd to understand her — they already did. When her music hit, the audience didn’t expect theatrics or drama; they expected collision. Pure, unfiltered impact. Skye Maddox didn’t build her matches into spectacles, she was the spectacle. Every strike, every slam, every motion was a punctuation mark in her language of violence.

While Moona staggered to her knees, the redhead was already moving, her breathing steady and deliberate. No wasted motion. No waiting. Her gaze tracked her opponent like a hawk sighting the twitch of a mouse. Moona’s hands grasped for the ropes, trying to steady herself, her purple hair spilling in wild strands over her shoulders.

Skye adjusted her stance, testing the distance with the small, instinctive bounce of a fighter ready to pounce. The moment Moona turned, that split-second between awareness and reaction, Skye moved.

A quick hop, a fluid snap backward of her torso, and her leg thrust to the air crisply. Trying to catch Moon just under the chin with the crack of her boot meeting jawline. Skye’s signature superkick the Point of Impact was the kind of strike that came without warning and left no room for recovery. The crowd’s gasp was instant, sharp, alive.

If Moona didn’t tumble clean through the ropes, she’d barely have time to fall. Skye was already on her.

The redhead closed the gap in an instant, arms aiming to lock around Moona’s waist in a practiced, iron grip. With a grunt of effort, she hauled the woman up and over, twisting her hips and driving her backward into the mat with a brutal belly-to-belly suplex. The impact thundered through the ring, echoing the sheer weight of Skye’s precision.

She didn’t let go.

Instead, Skye draped herself over her opponent, her toned frame pressing tight against Moona’s as she hooked the leg and leaned in deep for the pin. The camera caught her face, calm, focused, no showboating, just a professional finishing what she started.

[EgoEnjoyer]

Moona's eyes locked on to the savant, a look of absolute fury on her face. But that look changed from fury to surprise, to panic, before finally becoming blank as Skye's boot connected with her chin. Her head jolted up and her brain rattled around in her skull. She lost her grip on the ropes and her legs trembled briefly before giving in as she fell to her knees.

But before she could even hit the ground her opponent had locked her arms around Moona once again, propping up her limp body. Moona's arms hung low and she barely reacted as she was lifted up and over once again. The only reaction came once she hit the mat, when the ring-shaking impact woke her back up. She gasped but barely a sound came out.

This was unreal. Every movement this woman made was flawless and entirely intentional. It was like she had complete control over every single one of her muscles, all of them working together to power the perfect wrestling machine.

Not only was she powerful, she was efficient. Each move chained perfectly from the last without delay and she wasted no time playing to the audience. It was like they didn't even exist to her.

"ONE!"

The referee had started the count. Moona didn't have time to be in awe of her opponent right now.

"TWO!"

Moona thrashed with all her might, pushing Skye off of her and rolling over onto her stomach. She was panting heavily and could barely get onto her hands and knees. Even as she slowly crawled away, battered and vulnerable, she couldn't help but insult the savant. "Y-you freak... f-fuck off!"

[Parker]

Skye rose slowly, her dark silhouette behind Moona as she made to crawl to freedom. The referee’s count hadn’t flustered her in the least, a two count within the opening minute was more than acceptable. When Moona kicked free, the redhead didn’t pace or curse or throw her arms in frustration; she simply exhaled through her nose, a sharp breath as her focus honed back in.

The savant’s boots whispered across the mat as she closed the distance, her shadow swallowing the struggling purple-haired girl. Moona was clawing at the canvas, still dazed, one hand pressed to her jaw and the other dragging her weight forward inch by inch. But Skye was already there, looming above her, legs braced on either side, stance solid as stone.

“Get up.”

Her voice was quiet. Flat. Commanding.

She didn’t wait for Moona to obey. Skye’s hands shot down, seizing at her opponent’s waist and trying to lock tight. Her fingers would dig into the fabric at Moona’s midsection, gripping deep as she cinched her, tight enough that she might have success with nothing but her grip alone. Then Skye lowered her own center of gravity, back muscles rippling as she began to pull.

The strain was visible, but there was nothing sloppy about it, just raw, controlled power. Her boots bit into the mat, her shoulders rolled, and she lifted. Inch by inch, Moona’s body left the ground, the audience collectively holding their breath as the savant deadlifted her foe clean off the canvas.

For a heartbeat, the two were suspended in silence, Skye standing tall, Moona helpless in her grip. Then came the drop.

The ring exploded with impact as Skye arched backward in a perfect bridge, driving Moona’s shoulders into the mat with a brutal, textbook-perfect German suplex. The ropes rattled, the air rushed from Moona’s lungs, and Skye’s back curved like drawn steel as she held the position, arms locked, legs planted, refusing to let the other woman breathe. She held fast like a monument to the craft, going for another early pinfall in the opening of this match.

[EgoEnjoyer]

Moona was filled with a sense of dread as Skye's silhouette loomed over her menacingly. She was in a sorry state and still had yet to land a single blow on her opponent. At this point it seemed her only hope was to hope that Skype eventually got tired of pummeling her.

Then came Skye's demand. She sounded almost bored, like Moona was hardly worth her time and the only reason she wanted her up was so she could suplex her again sooner. Moona snapped her head around to look at the redhead, a mix of desperation and anger on her face. "I said fuck o- h-hey! L-let go!"

The savant hadn't waited for her to listen to orders, snapping her arms around Moona once again like a steel cage. The purple-haired girl felt a shiver run down her spine and turned her head back towards the mat, watching it move further and further away. Her hands clawed at the canvas as if she could dig her nails in and stop her ascent.

But she couldn't. Once Skye got moving it seemed like nothing could stop her. Moona was once again sent soaring through the air, being used as a prop for Skye to show off her skills to the audience. She crashed down hard, landing right on her head. Her hair spilled out around her and her legs were left dangling above her face in an embarrassing position. A single gasp escaped her lips and her body tensed up for a brief moment before slumping down.

The referee closed in once again to count, the audience exploding into cheers at the savant dominating display of strength and talent.

"ONE!"

"TWO!"

"THR-"

The ref's hand stopped inches from the mat. Moona had thrown her elbow behind her at the last second in a last ditch attempt to break the pin and clocked Skye right in the side of the head. Her first hit on her opponent so far. Although it broke the pin, it didn't do much else for Moona who flopped onto her side and began clawing at the mat once more, weakly dragging her battered body over to the ropes to rest on them.