L.A.W. - League of Anime Wrestling

CRACK went the mat. SCREAM went Kanon. ”FUCK!” went Shimmerlace.

Such was not the last expletive: Shimmerlace swore up and down, pounded the mat, turned cherry red, all while clutching her neck. A code-breaker had looked fuckin’ cool. When Gunner Ellie pulled it off. But something about that landing—

As she stood up, she felt a damp coolness over her ribs. ”Ach, fuckin’...shite...” She knew when she touched her side her fingers would come back wet and pink, that when she looked at her side, she’d find a rose stain spreading over her costume like blood from a gut full of buckshot. Next time, the concealed packet of Gloaming Sap would go—well, somewhere. Certainly not on her back.

But I still fuckin’ hit her! Shimmerlace forced herself back up, back towards Kanon, shooting off to the splendid violence again. Exorcism! That was the word of the day. Exorcism—not botch. So she told herself, and she’d had half a plan about diving for the ropes and trying for some second-rope jump and crash or other—but of course, by now, she’d given the occult object of her rite half an age to get back on her feet.

Kanon groaned under her breath as she rolled over, kneading at her brow. She hadn't started this match off on the best foot - which was bad, considering that she was all but assured her only option was to emerge victorious. Shimmerlace was only a Young Lioness, and she had the demeanor of an utter fool. But Kanon was quickly learning that she couldn't take her abilities for granted. In fact, she saw a good amount of potential in the pink-haired girl. As she shook some more cobwebs out of her head, Kanon propped herself up on her hands and knees, where she shot a glance toward her master, as though to say that she would be a good candidate to be shown the truth - she was already touched by forces beyond comprehension, and she would no doubt have plenty to offer, with some refinements to her skills. But for now...there were bigger things at hand.

Kanon rose to her feet now, taking a moment to stretch and to wring any soreness out of her neck and shoulders. She brought her hands behind her head, bending her spine into an arc and letting her vertebrae crack and pop into place. Then, she looked back at the downed Shimmerlace. She raised an eyebrow when she saw the pink goop spreading beneath her attire, unsure what sort of tricks she had up her sleeve. But that wouldn't matter now - she had other business to attend to!

Shimmer managed to pick herself up, where she took off running for the ropes. However, Kanon wasn't about to let her get far. As soon as she lifted her leg, Kanon took a few long and purposeful strides across the ring; even if she wasn't moving nearly as quickly as her foe, she hoped to close the distance all the same, with each step falling with a plod. The way she held her back straight and kept her glare fixed in place, moving as though she knew each step brought her closer to her destiny, stood as proof that in Kanon's mind, even if Shimmer got a head start, it wouldn't matter. If she could get into range, the albino would try to grab for Shimmerlace's arm, going to yank her back - and into the path of a clothesline, as she swung a forearm at her head!

"I don't think so."

Fiat voluntas eius…

The church-sermon, Notre Dame cathedral-bell words knocked around in Shimmer’s head like pinballs. What’d that mean exactly? Fiat was kinda adjacent to faire. Elle fera, elle fait, elle avait fait—Will do, doing, done.

We’ll do her turkey sure enough!

The ring was a pinball space. Plans melted moment to moment as the spotlight shines down and your legs pump full of delightful energy. You come into the fight with an arsenal, then that arsenal’s dribbling down your fuckin' thigh, staining your socks, but you charge anyway, and you laugh. Grab what you can, move faster than you think, and follow the new path unwinding at your fingertips—until she grabs your arm.

fwoop—BAM. Shimmer's head cracked against mat with a sound that carried to the boys in the room's every corner. Black blossomed at her vision’s edge, and for a moment she forgot which were her toes and which were her fingers.

”Oi…” Fragment’s of the Feychild’s mind raced to realign, but her body mostly curled up below Kanon.

Fiat voluntas eius…

Whatever tiny part of Shimmer’s now-scattered mind was responsible for Latin, that BAM forced it to realize the futility of its existence. The incantation's meaning was clear from context: Get ready, ye wains outside the Father’s wings, to get fucked.

When Shimmerlace struck the mat, her landing was punctuated by a thud that caused many a fan in the crowd to wince, only able to imagine how much a blow like that had to hurt - to say nothing of the force of Kanon's forearm that had set it up. But her white-haired opponent had no such mercy. She stood over the fallen girl, her eyes staring back into hers with a cold and piercing glare - the sort that could send a shiver down one's spine, even before any blows were thrown. But Kanon wasn't going to stop there. And she was intent on doing far more to Shimmer's spine than making it shudder.

"Non obstabit..." she whispered under her breath to punctuate her next move, no doubt sparking even more bewilderment in Shimmerlace's mind. Then, however, Kanon would grab at Shimmer's legs, pulling them up from the mat - and bending them into position around her own leg before she rolled her opponent over on her stomach and kneeled down, applying the pressure of a Texas cloverleaf! She glanced back over her shoulder, curious to see how her foe would react.

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=grJfQR-MJRE

Shimmer shook her head like a cat, brushing off half-consciousness and nightmare whiffs of bat-in-the-belfry Latin. ”Mmm…?” Wait a minute. Pink eyes whipped from left to right. ”Aaah…” She could feel it. The demoniac vice. Kanon had a grip on her ankles as tight as iron cuffs.

Tits felt the strain first. The mat mashed them until they were like pancakes—splintering, too much tit and not enough skin. Then a hot iron wedge lodged between vertebrae and made her whole body flinch. ”Nnng…” the Pixie’s eyes widened, sweat beading along her brow. She felt caged—couldn't run, couldn't dodge back, just had to lay here and watch as she got pretzeled. Probably time to start crawling towards the ropes, huh? Except they were a lip-biting body’s length away. Fuck fuck fuck…

Then Kanon stopped twisting. Set and lock. One big frayed rubber band, trembling like a taut guitar string, shooting pain like a live wire launching sparks—that was the chord from your girl's ass to her neck. She gasped. She bucked, though that cut out quick. Struggle just twisted the rubberband. ”Fuck, aaghnnyAAAH…” Fingers splayed out, she tried to crawl. ”Fuck FUCK…” No dice, not from the figure-C, not with this black magic strength wrapping her round Kanon's fel workbench. “Fuck. FUCK. FUUUCKIN’...SHIT MONGERIN GOOSE PLUMED BAT BRAINED BLOOD SUCKIN’...AAAGHnnngfff…”

Now her breaths were coming in short gasps, hot and wet against her face and the mat. Her hands flew and took handfuls of her own hair, face flushed, legs strained like blocked pistons shivering in a locked-up engine. Then her cheeks stretched to a trembling wee grin and her eyes rounded back on Kanon and her swearing looped round into a sentence: “TH-THIS…ALL…your wee da’s…fuckin’ worth… c…c…” Big breath. Keep them peepers on the demon’s, and don't you dare fuckin' blink. Summer wasn’t about to break eye contact with its wee nightmare, now, was it? The grin stretched another inch. ”…cccunt?”

When it came to their demeanor, Kanon and Shimmerlace couldn't be further apart. As her back was bent further and further in the crushing hold, the pink-haired girl was whipped into a frenzy, spewing forth a volley of curses and insults. But Kanon merely watched her from above, her eyes narrowed and her expression flat, as though she had no interest even in the agony she was exerting on her foe. In the grand scheme of things, she knew, Shimmerlace was but an insect. She had seen as much with her less than impressive magic tricks, which were surely nothing compared to the dark powers she commanded. In the lays of fate, she would be little more than a footnote. Any anger she could command was but a child's petulant tantrum. Kanon, admittedly, couldn't help but find her insults inventive - but they weren't getting to her.

That was, until Shimmerlace got a few words out, loud and clear. A threat - a challenge that Kanon could do better. And, as she heard this, the albino took pause. One of her brows raised as she glanced down on her opponent ponderously. For as much as she made a mockery of Shimmer, for as much as she could easily put anything she was capable of to shame...she still found it in her to resist. Kanon bit at her lip, her brow furrowed in frustration. She wouldn't tolerate such an insult as being chewed out by a lesser power than she. Evidently, she was going to have to try harder.

"That...can be arranged," Kanon muttered flatly. Sucking in a breath to steel herself, she pushed her body even further, pulling back harder at Shimmerlace's legs. She leaned back, stretching her spine as far as it could go. She wanted to bring the cloverleaf to its most potent - yet, at the same time, it would bring Shimmerlace just a few precious inches closer to the ropes.

A creak, a pop, a scream—Shimmerlace’s back was putty in the hands of a hostile chiropractor. Between her training and many in-ring face-to-mat sessions to date, the Pixie was well acquainted with the prodigious flexibility of the human spine, but this marked the further reach in her explorations. Stress lines etched her face until it was almost ghoulish. Wild, fey-tinged cursing caught in her throat. Struggling to breathe through the dagger-fissure in her back, she went as quiet as Kanon—almost, anyway. There was the wet, choking gag to bely the tremors within the begunked engine.

And Kanon, opaque fuckin’ mirror overhanging all, kept maddening night-silent through all her torments. Fuckin’ fuck what Shimmer wouldn’t give for her voice. There was black powder at the bottom of this cultist, full howling banshee gaggles ready to come devouring this ring—and the Pixie audience was gonna get the That can be arranged treatment?

Fuckin’ cunt—Fine. Fine! If she needed to suffer taffy-stretching for it…Shimmer’s fingers outstretched. Breath snorted up her nostrils as she heaved out rope-wise with teeth-grindingly extended arms. Tears welled as she felt every pop in her hips and every spasm of the twisted rubber band coming up on the edge of snapping.

When her foe screamed and writhed beneath her, Kanon kept her eyes focused on Shimmerlace with careful attention, never letting her gaze off of her. There were no taunts, no mockery, no words of belittlement or threats to do better. No, Kanon was interested in how her opponent was going to respond to this one. It was a test - she had already seen what she was capable of in the mystic arts, and the albino couldn't say she was particularly impressed. Her wrestling wasn't doing much more for her. But if Shimmerlace was being subjected to the full force of the Texas cloverleaf, bending her body to the very edges of its limits, and she was still holding on in the face of breaking...perhaps there was something salvageable. She could tell there was potential in her - potential, perhaps, that her master would be appeased by. But she would still need to bring that out of her.

Sure enough, Shimmerlace made her way to the edge of the ropes. She could only move little by little, each time putting more strain on her groaning and creaking bones, and fighting back the urge to scream as she did. But at last, she caught the cable, and the referee called for a break. This time, Kanon was happy to oblige. She let her opponent go, allowing her to drop to the mat as she stepped back off of Shimmer. There, she turned to face her, crossing her arms and focusing her crimson eyes on the girl.

"...Not bad," she muttered - still with a flat and disinterested tone, but if Shimmerlace could get out of this one, she might show something of a future after all. It would all depend on if she could carry things forward from here. For now, Kanon would watch her to see if she could get up and bounce back, and how she would proceed.

”Oho…Really now?”

Shimmerlace sucked her guts in, curled her legs back, and kipped to a stand. The move almost sparkled, until all the blood Kanon had squeezed into the Pixie’s head seeped down to her feet. The world shifted on a bit of a tilt, then, she staggered, and she had to grab the ropes to keep her feet.

”Oof—right. What was I… Ah!” Shimmerlace raised a shaky finger to her opponent. Words bought her a few breaths and let the last kinks of that hold shake their way down and out of her spine. ”You can keep your wee opinion quiet as the rest of your demon-cold void, thanks much!”

Pixie could flap her gums all she liked. Kanon waited still as a statue, watching as Shimmer took her big breath, squatted, squared up. If she wanted to pierce to the real depths of murky ink behind those red eyes, she'd need a sharper spear than what she'd thrust thus far.

Let’s give her some sky then.

Shimmerlace charged, arm wrenched back for a punch—but when she got close, she’d jump instead, kick her feet out, and aim to stagger the statue with a cherryblossom breeze of a dropkick.

So far, Shimmerlace hadn't done much to draw Kanon's attention. But there was one thing the albino couldn't deny - the girl had potential. If she was willing to fight back, even when her body was bent to its limits and when it could snap at any moment, then Shimmerlace had it in her to realize greatness. By this point, Kanon just wanted to see how far it would go.

She groaned under her breath when she saw her opponent struggling to stand and tripping over her words. Not exactly the most encouraging comeback, but then again, she had just escaped from a hold that threatened to break her back in half. However, it was what Shimmer would do next that would really count. Taking off, Shimmerlace went running across the mat, her fist drawn back for a punch. Kanon readied herself, sinking into a stance; she prepared to raise her fists to block the incoming blow - only to instead be met with the sight of Shimmerlace hopping off the mat, flying toward her feet-first with a powerful dropkick!

It had all happened so quickly, there was no way for her to prepare. Even the seemingly unflappable Kanon let out an audible gasp when she saw Shimmerlace transition from running one moment to propelling herself through the air in the next, especially when she was no doubt still sore from the cloverleaf hold. Kanon tried to lower her block, but it was too late - Shimmer's feet crashed into her bare midsection with enough force to leave her doubled over forward, the air kicked out of her lungs with a cry of "Oof-!!" as Kanon sunk low.

She stayed on her feet, panting a few times to catch her breath, but nonetheless, Shimmerlace had broken Kanon's composure - she'd forced her to step back a few steps, creating distance between the two. Slowly, the white-haired girl lifted her head enough to look Shimmer in the eye, and in between pants, she nodded her head in a signal of approval. Her reaction time was good; her adaptability and her willingness to think on the fly, even better. And she had to have good endurance if she was able to bounce back from the hold so quickly. Kanon would have to take notes.

However, right now, she was still intent on keeping the match going! She wouldn't let the pressure off her foe, as she took off in a charge; this time, as she closed in on Shimmer, Kanon would stand a little straighter to whip her arm around and swing at her with a lariat in mid-stride!