First Bell, First Clue? - Laxia(D) vs. Bandita

[Letta]

Seizing the young luchadora by the head, Laxia drove her straight into the mat, bringing another vicious combination to a successful end.

THUD....!

The impact sent a heavy tremor through the canvas, carrying directly into Laxia’s legs and hips as she landed in a seated position. The sensation was positively exhilarating. Turning her head, Laxia looked back at Bandita lying limply across the mat. With the girl sprawled face-down, one cheek pressed against the canvas, a faint smile began to curl across the noblewoman’s lips. The audience erupted for the dazzling yet merciless combination they had just witnessed. This time, the cheers belonged to Laxia. As the crowd’s approval finally poured toward her, the orange-haired heiress felt pride and exhilaration surge through her entire body.

Laxia smoothly pushed herself back to her feet and began circling the fallen luchadora at a leisurely pace. As she moved, she raised both arms high above her head before lowering them again, repeating the gesture as she encouraged the audience to grow even louder. It was as though she meant to steal back the hearts the young luchadora had claimed and turn the crowd firmly to her side.

“My... surely you aren’t planning to stay down already?”

Looking down at Bandita, Laxia curled one finger in a graceful, beckoning gesture, returning the playful taunt the luchadora had directed at her before the match. It was elegant, but unmistakably challenging, inviting Bandita to rise and face her again.

[CyanDimitrik]

Bandita is not unconscious. She might look it for a moment, but she isn't. Fortunately, it doesn't take the girl long to start stirring again, starting with her arms dragging against the mat. Her hands floppily place their palms against the canvas, her elbows jutting upwards. With a push, her chest lifts off the mat before her head lifts - dazed, getting a quick shake to try to refocus her mind.

"Ngh.."

Hearing Laxia taunt her, she pushes up a little more until she's risen onto all fours. "'Dat's.. my line..," she grumbles. Indeed, a variant of that is usually what the Latina says after overwhelming an opponent. Laxia might be more like her than first anticipated. Just considerably more elegant. There's no ill will in her heart towards her - when she steps into the ring, she expects the other person to try to beat her up. How else would they ever successfully pin her down? Besides, it's definitely what she intends to do, if conventional grapples don't work!

Her family doesn't quite get it. But that's alright. Laxia does. She's sure of that. Right?

One hand is spared to press briefly to her forehead. Her foot slides in beneath her, and with a quick thrust of leg muscle, she's upright again.

"You should'a tried to pin me when you had 'de chance, Princesa!," she declares, whirling to face the other girl - wherever she'd gotten to.

[Letta]

The young luchadora continued to move, slowly but steadily gathering herself until she was back on her feet.

“Don’t be so impatient, chiquita,”

Laxia replied with a knowing smile. “Keep dancing to my rhythm, and you’ll find yourself pinned soon enough.” The Spanish word rolled from her tongue with just a touch too much care, betraying that it was hardly a language she spoke fluently. Laxia was hardly fluent in Spanish, but having lived in California, she had naturally picked up a few basic words and expressions. Her fondness for Mexican food had, of course, contributed absolutely nothing to that knowledge. To Bandita, it might have appeared that Laxia had simply stood by and allowed her to recover. But the noblewoman had not been idly wasting time while basking in her success. Laxia followed every unsteady motion. Laxia followed every unsteady motion as Bandita rose, carefully judging the distance between them and waiting for the exact moment the young luchadora turned to face her.

The instant the angle aligned and the opportunity presented itself, she made her move. Laxia burst forward at full speed. It seemed she had no intention of bringing this lethal ballet to an end just yet. Racing across the ring, Laxia planted her final step and launched herself gracefully into the air. She folded one leg beneath herself for balance while extending the other, aiming the sole of her boot with surgical precision at Bandita’s chin just as the luchadora whirled around to face her. Laxia’s signature single-leg dropkick, Novel Verdict...!

Single-Leg Dropkick

[CyanDimitrik]

Oh.

Oh, she called her chiquita.

Sure, the delivery has a funny little accent on it, but it's cute. Maybe she meant it as an insult, but this marks Laxia as the first person who isn't a ring announcer making some effort to speak Spanish to her. And the word itself, no less! It's endearing. Kind of sweet. It even earns the faintest smile from the Latina, despite herself and her situation.

But that smile vanishes into a wide-eyed stare and brief gape as Laxia is instantly upon her. It's rare that Bandita ever encounters someone who moves quickly like her. Is she as fast as her? She couldn't say. But she's fast enough that she's noticeably head and shoulders above most competition she faces, and that alone is enough to take her off-guard in that attack.

The kick lands with a punishing level of force on her unprotected chin. Bandita's head whips back with a hard squeak of shock and pain. Her arms flail up, as if the beginning manifestation of some measure of defense that didn't have a chance to fully materialize before losing control. The girl is taken off her feet again, knocked back several feet before hitting the mat squarely on her back.

This time, Bandita comes to rest faceup, her body splayed out fully supine. Her lips parted, chest and stomach rising and falling noticeably with each thick breath. Her arms rest outstretched far to either side, legs lying flat and spread upon the mat. For all intents and purposes, the girl's body looks completely open to Laxia in Bandita's daze.

[Letta]

The instant the sole of Laxia’s boot connected with Bandita’s chin, the heavy sensation of impact shot sharply through her leg. Laxia knew at once that the attack had landed perfectly. Precision dropkicks were among Laxia’s greatest weapons, and this one was no exception. Once again, she had struck exactly where she intended, driving the sole of her boot straight into the young luchadora’s exposed chin and sending Bandita crashing violently back onto the canvas.

The sight of the smaller woman being hurled several feet backward through the air only made the force behind the elegant attack appear all the more devastating. Bandita now lay spread-eagled across the mat, not far from the corner. With her body completely splayed beneath the arena lights, the audience erupted, showering Laxia with thunderous cheers for the dazzling series of attacks she had unleashed in rapid succession. Still lying upon the canvas after her dropkick, Laxia allowed the roaring reaction to wash over her entire body.

For several seconds, she simply remained there. Her chest rose and fell slowly as she caught her breath, savoring the sound of the crowd cheering in her favor. Eventually, the noblewoman pushed herself upright and settled onto her knees. With Bandita still appearing motionless before her, Laxia calmly swept the damp strands of orange hair away from her face, as though restoring some measure of elegance to her otherwise disheveled appearance. At the beginning of the match, she had been completely swept along by Bandita’s rhythm.

Now, however, it was Laxia who held the audience firmly in the palm of her hand. A proud smile played upon her lips as Laxia slowly lowered herself onto all fours and began crawling toward the luchadora lying near the corner. Rather than going to the trouble of dragging Bandita back toward the center of the ring when she appeared unable to move after taking Laxia’s attack, it seemed the noblewoman intended to attempt the pin exactly where her opponent had fallen.

There was not the slightest hint of urgency in her movements. Laxia deliberately took her time, allowing the audience to admire the sight of her slowly stalking an opponent who already appeared defeated. Upon reaching Bandita’s side, Laxia lowered herself across the luchadora’s upper body, draping herself over her at a perpendicular angle so that their bodies formed a cross. Pressing her weight firmly across Bandita’s shoulders, Laxia gathered one of the luchadora’s toned thighs into her arms and lifted the leg, securing a pin. The referee threw herself down beside them and raised one hand high.

“ONE……!”

[CyanDimitrik]

Bandita's mind was a blank after that kick. There were only the visceral sensations penetrating the haze she was experiencing - the smoothness of the canvas touching her bare back, the throbbing pain radiating from her chin, the feel of her heart hammering in her breast. Complex thought did not exist in this moment. She was just a girl, who took a profoundly hard kick to the face.

She's unaware of Laxia's slow, indulgent approach. She's unaware that she's milking the moment. She's unaware as she positions herself at her side. But the sensations filter in when Laxia's body comes to rest across hers. The softer cushioning of her breasts meet Laxia's, a not entirely unfamiliar feeling as a wrestler. Being pinned is a common position, even for someone who pulls a win in the end. She can feel the added weight pressing her shoulders back against the mat.

There's a soft rumble in the ring's wooden planks as the referee-girl drops beside the pair. Then the telltale tremor of her hand slapping the mat firmly near Bandita's head to begin the official pin.

"ONE!"

The number clears her mind up instantly, like an automatic, Pavlovian response. Her eyes open, but her body doesn't want to cooperate yet. It's sluggish. Laxia can feel the girl's breathing hastening against her chest, her heart beating faster.

"TWO!"

Finally, Bandita's far shoulder pulls up with an arm jerking into the air and hanging there.

"No pin! Two-count!," the referee announces.

Bandita's shoulder slumps to the mat again, her arm dropping to drape over Laxia's shoulder.

"'Dat.. really hurt..," she mutters. Her head rolls back, neck stretching and eyes squeezing shut. The motion pushes her chest harder into Laxia's, not with enough force to throw her off, but enough to show life blooming in her again. "Ngh.."

[Letta]

Laxia remained draped across the young luchadora, pressing her body firmly against Bandita’s while keeping one of her legs raised for the pin. Their breasts pressed tightly together beneath the noblewoman’s weight, allowing Laxia to feel Bandita’s chest rise and fall with each ragged breath. A faint blush touched Laxia’s cheeks as she waited impatiently for the count to continue.

“TWO!”

The corners of her lips immediately lifted. For a fleeting moment, Laxia appeared unable to conceal her delight, already imagining the referee’s hand striking the canvas for the final count. But that smile did not last. Bandita lifted her shoulder at two, abruptly breaking the pin and pouring cold water over Laxia’s premature fantasy of victory. The arm the luchadora had thrown upward soon fell across Laxia’s back, while their chests remained pressed tightly together, leaving the pair in what almost resembled an embrace. Only then did reality settle back over the noblewoman. Of course the match would not end so easily.

As Bandita began stirring beneath her, Laxia released the hooked leg and started to push herself upright. She reached for the luchadora’s wrist and waist, intending to haul her back onto her feet. Bandita’s faint complaint briefly caught her off guard. For the briefest moment, surprise flickered across Laxia’s face. But it quickly vanished beneath her usual composed expression. Pain was an inevitable part of stepping into the ring. She understood that perfectly well. It was merely the fact that the words had come from someone so young and disarmingly sweet that they managed to disturb her resolve, if only for an instant.

“Then perhaps you should have remained down...” Laxia replied quietly. Keeping hold of Bandita’s wrist and waist, Laxia would attempt to guide the dazed luchadora toward the center before abruptly changing direction and sending her toward the nearest corner. If successful, she would press Bandita back against the turnbuckles, leaving her slumped there with her midsection exposed.

“I had hoped not to resort to this,” Laxia warned, retreating toward the center of the ring. “But the rest of our dance may hurt a little more.” Believing she had already inflicted enough damage to keep Bandita from escaping quickly, Laxia left her target against the turnbuckles and steadily backed away. Once she had created enough distance, the orange-haired noblewoman lowered her center of gravity and fixed her gaze upon the luchadora’s exposed abdomen. Then she burst forward. Laxia raced across the ring at tremendous speed before throwing her entire body into the attack, driving her shoulder forward as she attempted to bury it deep into Bandita’s stomach with a brutal corner spear...!

[CyanDimitrik]

Bandita was making no effort to yank her captive leg free from Laxia's hooking arm, still technically bundled beneath her. But with the pin just as technically being broken, it served little purpose other than to let the noblewoman feel the muscletone in the young Latina's limb. She has a dancer's build, lithe and svelte - because that is also what she is. A dancer. And surely a dancer herself, Laxia would've recognized this by now. But in this moment, the teenager is content to rest and try to process the pain radiating in her chin. Had she ever been kicked so hard in the face before? She can't really say.

Ugh, if it bruises as badly as it feels it might, she's going to have a hard time keeping her grandmother from worrying. She's taken beatings in the ring before, but her grandmother is relatively new to dealing with seeing her beaten up. She's still her mija, after all. At least her brother thinks it's cool. Her sister might low-key think she's crazy.

The arm slips off of Laxia's shoulder as she lifts off of her, and instead she favors placing her palm against her face, rubbing tenderly over the jaw. No cracked teeth, Dios mio, that's the last thing she'd need! But feeling along with her tongue, nothing seems out of place or damaged. Just her pride. And that arm is soon taken, along with an arm looping around her waist. She's easily drawn up to her feet, not yet steady and leaning heavily onto the barely-taller woman's side.

They move along near the center of the ring, Bandita's mind starting to race with finding the right opportunity to get back into the match. When, how - opportunities are the key feature of her wrestling style. Finding them, capitalizing on them, making them turn the tide of a match! But for now, Laxia is pulling her along, keeping her off-balance. Which ultimately leads into a pivot and fling!

Bandita's frilly boots stamp a clear path towards the nearest turnbuckle! She pivots at the last second, letting her back ram into the padded rectangle. "Ungh!" Her head whips back briefly, arms thrown over the top ropes to either side. But this is when the mind sharpens. This is the exact place she wants to be, if--

Laxia backs up. She listens to her words, how refined they are. She watches the beautiful so-dubbed princesa prepare herself. Ah, she must look amazing in videos - so regal, so poised. Even after getting kicked in the face, the girl can't help but be a little smitten with the whole thing. But- focus!

Laxia charges in, Bandita sharply inhales. It's exactly what she was hoping for.

In an instant, legs contract like coils and she springs high, high into the air with a modicum of forward momentum, her slender figure pulling into a clean forward flip with full clearance above the ginger's would-be devastating shoulder ram. She's left with nothing but the turnbuckle itself with which to collide with that forceful lunge.

The mat reverberates lightly with Bandita hitting it into a tucking roll and ending, once more, as her full height. The audience erupts and commentators are shouting the same thing in thrilled unison: "SMOKE BOMB! SMOKE BOOOMB!"

Bandita pauses long enough to cock her hips with a confident smile to the audience, and flash a quick, universal 'OK' sign with her hand. The messaging is clear: don't count her out yet! She's got this!

[Letta]

When Laxia sent Bandita hurtling into the turnbuckles, the young luchadora’s body jolted violently against the corner. Her arms draped over the top ropes on either side, while the impact threw her head back. Watching her opponent appear completely trapped before her, Laxia lowered her stance and steadied herself for the next attack. It was unfortunate for the chiquita, but, well... now that she had chosen to step into the world of professionals, she would eventually have to confront its colder realities. She would have to learn just how unforgiving the ring could be.

With her opponent seemingly motionless and the ideal attack already selected, Laxia exploded forward amid the steadily rising roar of the crowd. Even as she raced across the ring, Bandita still appeared to remain in the corner, at least until the very last instant. Certain of her success, Laxia lowered her head and hurled herself forward with all her strength. She intended to drive a terrifying spear deep into the luchadora’s toned abdomen. But it was not Bandita’s body that met her shoulder. Only a cold, unyielding sensation drove through the padding and deep into her shoulder. Laxia crashed violently into the corner turnbuckles!

“AAAAHH....!!”

Normally, she would have meticulously suppressed even the faintest groan. But the unexpected impact and sharp burst of pain tore a scream from her lips, sending it echoing clearly throughout the arena. Laxia could scarcely believe her own eyes. Bandita had... vanished. Only an instant earlier, the luchadora had been directly in front of her. Yet now, like a thief in the night, she had disappeared without a trace, nowhere to be found within Laxia’s field of vision. The arena’s enormous screen captured every trace of confusion upon the noblewoman’s face. At the same time, sections of the audience began chanting something she could not immediately make out.

“SMOKE BOMB! SMOKE BOMB!”

Wincing through the sharp, numbing pain, Laxia wrapped one hand around her injured shoulder and rubbed it carefully “Nnngh...” Every bit of force she had intended to pour into the spear had instead recoiled directly back upon her. As the crowd’s chant and the image of her own bewildered expression upon the giant screen finally registered, Laxia’s face stiffened ever so slightly. Still unable to completely shake off her confusion, she slowly began turning to look behind her.

[CyanDimitrik]

The first time she'd pulled off that acrobatic escape was exhilarating. The audience had nary seen someone with such... hops. The Mexican arena had practically fallen silent, the oxygen level sucked clean out of the building. From that moment on, it became a staple in Bandita's repertoire - an instant thrill. A Wobuffet tactic, if ever there was one. Turn an enemy's attack against them in its purest form, without so much as touching them.

And it played mind games on opponents sometimes. That was the hidden benefit to the technique, to the preening after the landing. Make the opponent afraid to press an advantage. Make them hesitate. Make them try to predict. Bait them into expecting one thing. This is the art of banditry in wrestling; where finesse meets misdirection.

The teenager arches her back and shoots a look over her shoulder to Laxia, seeing her now starting to face her again. She winks. The cold realities of professional wrestling may yet to have landed with the young Latina - or they had, and she's already warmed them with little more than her effervescent personality. Either way, she doesn't delay past that. It's time to press her own advantage.

Whirling pertly on her heels, the luchadora marches the short distance to Laxia. She first grabs for the woman's bicep with one hand, then seizes ahold upon the nape of her neck. Pulling, she drags Laxia out of the corner by only a foot or so, turning her to the turnbuckle again. And then, without further ado, she rears the woman's head back with the intention of forcefully colliding her brow against the turnbuckle with rattling force. A second impact! A third! Each hit focuses primarily on the collisions, but there is genuine consideration for trying to manually tilt the other girl's face enough to avoid her delicate features. She does not want her nose, lips, or eyes hitting that surface. She wants her deeply dazed, nothing broken! Nothing bleeding!

By that third slam, the referee-girl is marching over to give her a disapproving frown. But following the impact, Bandita has already drawn Laxia's face back from the pads and pushed her against the corner. Turning partly to the referee, her hands lift to present her with open palms! "No cheating! We're allowed to do 'dat!," she argues.

The referee-girl doesn't speak. She just fixes her with a moue.