Alaina Sanders vs. Beatrice Dreyse - The Things We Do For Love

[BlackAkuma]

Match Type: Standard
Victory Conditions: Pinfall, submission, or KO

***

So…Beatrice might’ve goofed up. Big time.

It was hard to truly encapsulate the series of events that had led to put her in the current position she was in, but to summarize them:

She’d had a match with Nefretiri.

During said match, things got heated.

She met with Nefretiri after the match.

Nefretiri challenged her to win her next match before they continued…whatever this was going to be.

All great stuff, really, but when Beatrice went to management, they were extremely unwilling to put her in another match so soon after her ‘crushing’ defeat by Nefretiri. So she’d had to bug them and harass them and poke and prod them until they finally gave her what she wanted.

And, oh my, did they give it to her.

“Alaina Sanders?”

It wasn’t often that Beatrice heard her cousin yell - Sabine had been known as the quiet one in the family, the calm one, even after she’d become a dominatrix and left their roots in the dust. She was cool and collected most times, rarely letting her stress show, and she was the sort of woman that she herself longed to emulate…most of the time. Not now.

Now, she was panicking, because she’d come to watch Beatrice’s second match, and only now found out, just as she was coming into the gorilla position to give her a pep talk that her cousin - her young, inexperienced cousin - was about to have a match with Alaina Sanders, the former heavyweight champion with the longest win-streak in LAW history. Yes, she was over fifty, but this was like pitting a World War II battleship against a modern tugboat. The youth advantage was only going to get her so far, and in this case, probably not very far at all.

Beatrice didn’t pay her much attention, honestly, far too focused on the

she was wearing. It had been a rush job, something she’d snagged online, and it had cost her no small amount of money. But worth it? Yes, she thought so. Nefret had said she’d wanted her to show more skin, and she was fairly sure this qualified. She’d even cut off the sleeves to make the arms bare.

Of course, none of that would matter if she didn’t win this match like she’d promised to do. And that was a very, very dismal prospect.

“Beatrice, tell me.” Sabine walked to her side, doing her best to get Beatrice’s attention - still treating her like they were young, like she was some little kid that needed protection from the bullies. “Who did you anger enough that they put you in this match? Just let me go and talk to them, I can smooth out the situation, and then-”

Beatrice let out a long, haggard groan and spun about to face her cousin. “Do you really have that little faith in me?”

“As much faith as I would for a fox taking on a lion.” She tilted her head to the side, as if looking at Beatrice from a different angle would help her make sense of the situation. “You can’t seriously be naive enough to think you stand a chance again-”

“She’s over fifty!”

“I do not care if she’s over a hundred, you are still out of your league.”

“Totally not helpful! I don’t need you telling me stuff I already know, you’re not my Mom!”

“And for that, I am eternally grateful.”

Beatrice groaned - an exasperated, frustrated, fiery groan - just in time for her entrance music to begin to play. She let it all go, shook her head, then pointed Sabine’s way with the hardest face she could muster. “Just watch me.”

Beatrice came bursting through the curtain and promptly made her way to the ring, with perhaps a touch more pep in her step than she would’ve otherwise. The last thing she wanted to do was slow down - she didn’t want to think or get lost in her worries, her concerns, her fears. She definitely didn’t want to think about the crowd, many of whom were looking at her like she was on her way to the gallows.

As she made her way into the ring, though, she couldn't help but scan the audience. It was a big mass, and she knew the chances were fleeting, but she hoped she could spot one individual. A woman, taller than most, dark skin, piercing eyes…

Beatrice gulped, took a deep breath, and promptly made her way over to the corner.

[Highfly]

Alaina was wearing her two piece tiger print attire as she walked the halls before the match. She was in a strange spot. She had just lost a few matches and was now going up against a raw new wrestler. She wasn't sure if this was the brass throwing her a bone or if they saw her differently now that she had piled up a few losses and her age was the elephant in the room every time her career became a topic of conversation.

Even if they were giving her an easy opponent and didn't see her slipping she still wanted to avoid losing four matches in a row for the first time since coming to LAW back in 2017. Hell... she didn't lose four in a row before she retired either.

She couldn't let that happen, not tonight and not against a woman she should defeat easily.

Alaina appeared in the arena and stopped at the top of the ramp to flex and point to the fans before she walked down the ramp high fiving fans with a smile on her face. She was confident, focused and ready. She slid into the ring and stood tall flexing again before looking at her opponent with her hands on her hips, an eyebrow raised.

[CyanDimitrik]

The arena is packed tonight. That's to be expected. A former champion is wrestling tonight, after all. And no matter the losses she's accrued, that still carries weight. And her opponent tonight? A spunky up-and-comer who took a total beating from another relatively unknown factor in the LAW arena. But she showed heart, even when things looked hopeless. That must've counted for something. That's why management put this together; must be. To see how she does against a more established heavy hitter. Or to feed the poor girl to a shark, because it'll be dramatic.

This is where the audience's mind is right now. Anticipation is high, excitement is in the air. Bodies are moving, people are on their feet. Not a soul among them isn't interested to see what promises to be brutality about to unfold.

Perhaps none more invested than the

ironically most reserved in the entire audience. The piercing purple eyes Beatrice searched for are there, and watching closely. No Odion to protect her. No Aneksi to tend to her whim. The dark hoodie clinging to her form is doing a good enough job tonight of keeping her identity hidden at a glance without drawing attention to herself.

She hates it. Milling with the masses. Trying to blend in rather than stand out. It's unnatural, uncomfortable, and it radiates a low level of hostility to those around her. But they don't care. They pay her no attention. The spectacle is in the ring, after all.

Beatrice's new outfit is immediately noted, and it earns a small, sincere grin. It does look good on her. Maybe even more personal to her style than the other setup. Sorceress-approved. Though the silly little hat is met with some confused bemusement, she's willing to chalk it up to that being her style.

She's a cop, right? That's what that is, isn't it? Like a sexy cop?

She banishes the confusion from her mind. Hands stuff into the central pouch of her hoodie as the former champion enters - the first time she's laid eyes on her. She's big. Bigger than her. Which means physically speaking, this Alaina Sanders is going to have a tremendous advantage over Beatrice. That thought causes the grin to vanish into a firm frown.

Former champion and a total size mismatch. What was management trying to do to her..?

When both are settled in the ring, Nefret's focus naturally shifts onto the smaller spunky blonde, watching her. Studying her for signs of fear and concern.

[BlackAkuma]

…wow, Alaian was big.

Like, Beatrice knew that Alaina was going to be big. Of course she was going to be big. She was the former heavyweight champion and people called her ‘the Amazon’, so yeah, that went without saying. She’d seen some of her matches, seen her on posters. She’d even seen a cardboard cutout of her near the entrance of the arena.

But there’s a profound difference between knowing and understanding. You know an elephant is big, too, but you don’t really understand just how big one is until you go to the surface and have one stomping around just a few feet away. This was, without a doubt, the biggest woman she’d ever been in the ring with, and she’d been wrestling since before Beatrice was even born.

And she had to find some way to put this woman’s shoulder on the mat for three seconds, make her submit, or knock her out.

”I am gonna die.”

Beatrice gave her face a few quick slaps as Alaina made her way into the ring, psyching herself up and banishing the horde of negative thoughts that were threatening to destroy whatever confidence she had. Whatever ghost of a chance she had here, it wasn’t going to materialize if she didn’t at least believe in herself, she was sure of that.

The woman came into the ring, flexed, and proceeded to look at Beatrice with a, frankly understandable, gaze of confusion. Beatrice’s first instinct was to taunt her and talk crap like she had with Nefret, but…well, that had ended well for her, but it very well shouldn’t have, and she seriously doubted that lightning would strike twice. This was going to be hard enough without her brickhouse of an opponent being mad at her, so…

She walked over extended her hand, and offered up a shake. ”Let’s uh…have a good match.” Her eyes shifted from side to side. ”...ma’am?”