The Queen's Decree.
A supercard event. Special in and of itself, a night for women of the middleweight division to distinguish themselves as a cut above the rest. A place for feuds to end, or resurface. For grudges to be dealt with, for battles of honor and pride to be had. This was one such battle, more of the latter than any of the others...but there was a sense of feud or rivalry between these two women. However, was this just a battle of pride? No. It was a fight for one simple thing, dominance. Who was the better wrestler, and who would belong to the other wrestler moving forward.
This was the perfect type of match for Isabella, much like it was to Heather. A Ladder match, perfect for high-flyers like them! It would be an intense battle simply by the fact that it was a speciality of both of the rivals. Even if that had not been the case, the stipulations of said match would propel them to fight beyond what they were ever capable of. What was at stake? The Contracts. The winner of this match would be awarded the contract of the loser, essentially holding their whole career...their whole future in their hands.
Isabella loved this. She loved the idea of dueling with stakes such as these. It felt as if her life was on the line, and she was about to go out there and give Heather the fight of her life, before she ascended the ladder and claimed her prize. She wondered what she would do with Heather should she win this match. However, she halted as she looked at herself in the mirror. Should?...
"That's not right." Isabella spoke to herself as she looked at her own reflection. She was dressed in her usual leotard attire, the black and red with that golden trim. Her blonde hair, curled into two drills at the front and long at the back. She had let it grow a bit longer over the past few months.
"Should is not the right word. It should be 'When'." Isabella spoke to herself again. She used a form of image training, imagining herself as the victor of this upcoming match, standing tall with contract raised in her hand, looking down at Heather...She imagined the path to victory she would have to take, now all that she had to do was to find a way to make that image real. She wanted to see the look on Heather's face when she defeated her, that was the true prize tonight. The secondary prize was the contract, and what to do with it was something she'd figure out after the match.
Isabella stepped of the locker room, she walked with confident steps to the Gorilla Position, taking her place there as she waited for her music to begin. Crimson Dawn by Freedom Call began to play out of the speakers, summoning the Tyrant onto the field. Isabella Brandt stepped out onto the ramp to the thunderous chorus of cheers and jeers inter-mixed! Though there were more cheers than jeers, the sheer popularity of the knight who ruled with an iron-fist had garnered her a more favourable position with the crowd than before...she was still not the shining beacon of light that her friends Trinette Vaillant and Jeanne Hastings were.
She marched her way down the ramp, her eyes glancing to the ladders positioned at the sides of the ring. As she reached the square circle her eyes trailed up to the contracts already hanging there in that brief-case. A sleek black case with golden metal-work adorning it. There was even a small flair of a crown being printed onto it. Fitting of the theme of this supercard. Isabella smirked as she climbed the apron and then pulled herself up and over the ropes in a smooth jump, stepping into the ring as she would walk around the squared circle, parading around what would be her battlefield as she raised her right arm high into the air as in a victory pose, she strut about for a lap within the ring before she came to a halt in her corner. Isabella lowered her arms and folded them underneath her generous breasts....all that was left was to await her rival - Heather Sunderland.
