Winner decided by Pinfall, Submission, or KO
By this point, the officials of LAW have had their first taste of what Bandita can bring to the table, and it was as they expected. She was fighting two opponents in the ring that night - Cassidy Ryder and jet-lag. But she put on a stunning performance from the moment her music hit the arena to the final bell, making an impression with the audience and giving it her all. She's young, vivacious, and confident, with an exotic flavor - they responded well. But it's time to see how she'll do with some of LAW's more unique setups. It's time to see if she can roll with a beach match.
And to pair her with someone who's seen their ring many times over. This would be a real test.
When Camille got the notification that she'd be wrestling in an open-air beach venue and, ahem, swimsuits are mandatory, she was still nursing the beating she received from the cowgirl. A series of slow blinks followed reading it. Then re-reading it. Then a few more blinks. "Dios mio."
When Nana Lola asked her when she'd be wrestling next, she told her - a few days. Enough time to finish recovering and get in some training to make up for her downtime. You know, to be in top condition for the next challenge. Naturally, the supportive abuelita confirmed she and the rest of the family would be present to support! And when Camille announced she needed to buy a new swimsuit for the match, there were questions.
"It's fine! It's a normal match! Nothing strange about it!"
"They just want a beautiful location! It's like a special!"
"It's just what the big federations do, Nana! You'll see!"
That had to be it, right? She just needed to find a swimsuit that would hold up to grappling! No doubt her opponent, a girl with a very pretty name, would already have something for it!
When the day came, Camille had an easy time getting on the beach without being noticed; it didn't even take effort. She's used to being overlooked, and a part of her projects that air of simply... not standing out. She arrived with her family, the same as any other beach-goer that day. Nothing special. But she doled out hugs to her family and crept away to change and don the mask. No more blending in for her anymore. The moment that accessory comes on and she steps out, all eyes will be on her. She'll come alive. She just needs to finish fixing the ribbon in her hair...
________________________________________________________________
The day at the beach is warm with a relaxing breeze to gently rustle the broad fronds of palm trees lining the sandy shore. Waves roll and crash in the distance, with bodies littering the water either surfing or swimming. Several fluffy white clouds drift lazily along an azure sky above, with the periodic sound of seagulls calling to break the tranquility.
Today, LAW is hosting a beach event. The ring stands tall in the middle of the sand, proudly boasting company logos and detailing. Where normally padding might surround the outer perimeter, only the soft sand awaits. The barricade is a simple metal affair with rounded edges, heavy enough to not easily fall over with security on standby just in case the rowdier audience members get ideas. The commentator's desk looks as though it's been uprooted from one of the main facilities and planted right on the beach, with a tarp stretched beneath it and the accompanying chairs to keep grits from inexplicably getting all over the equipment and officials.
The referee-girl is already in the ring, ensuring the turnbuckles are secure. White shorts and a striped bikini top are what passes for her uniform today. The audience is not complaining.
The crowd is pressed in tight along the barricades, eager to get as close to the action as possible. The competitors' entrances are separate tents leading down walkways to the barricade, ensuring they don't have to physically cut through the audience. That could have been a PR disaster waiting to happen.
A single screen with connected speakers stands tall behind the commentary, serving as the 'tron and PA. And in this instant, the screen kicks on with a cinder-sparked motif.
Bandita's music begins.
Two words scroll by individually, interspersed with a few choice reels of Bandita's matches in Mexico.
VIVA
BANDITA
And then the girl herself emerges, eschewing her typical flamenco skirt and bolero hat. But in her right hand is a tightly coiled length of leather bullwhip. With one arm raised, she steps forward with elegant poise in the sand and spins with a flare of the hip. Then a reverse whirl, the other arm raised and chin tipped upwards with the brief taste of a dance in beat with her music. Only with the third spin, the whip unfurls in a flash and SNAPs forward with a loud *CRACK*.
The whip seems to join the dance, spiraling around the girl's slender figure in mesmerizing finesse. And each twist and whirl brings the whip issuing new mini-sonic booms with expert precision before her.
*CRACK* *CRACK* *CRACK*
By the time her wrist flicks to smoothly draw the whip back into a coil in one hand, the audience is roaring at the thrilling spectacle.
Bandita struts onwards to the ring, shoulders back, head held high, turning her focus only here and there to sweetly blow kisses to the enthusiastic spectators bordering her side. She doesn't have the time, nor interest, nor even the proclivity to feel self-conscious about her wardrobe tonight. She chose it especially to both look good and fit her style - not to mention offer the most wardrobe safety! But it also shows off the girl's toned, lithe body, the sporty red and black bikini offering full coverage on the lower half while clinging to her narrow hips, the top holding snug against the soft curvature of her breasts.
"Making her way to the ring!," begins the announcer. "Standing at a height of 5'6", and weighing in at 117 lbs.!"
"From Cancún, México!"
"La Bonita Bandoleraaaa~!"
"BAAAANDIIITAAAA!"
The whip is neatly settled upon the commentator's desk with a plucky little two-fingered salute. Then she turns to the ring and springs, landing her bare feet upon the edge. Grabbing the top rope, she smoothly vaults herself up and over - but the moment her feet touch the mat, they're whirling through the air with her body inverting into a single handless cartwheel. The movement ends with her dead center of the ring, where she thrusts her right arm upwards finger pointed to the sky~!
At last, she makes her way to her designated corner and begins swinging her arms forward and back, limbering up the joints and muscles. But nothing could move that eager, excited smile from her face as she watches the opposite entrance for her opponent's reveal.
