Scarlet & Crimson Collide! (Hakune vs. Scarlaheart)

[dlamp]

"A-Aaa... Gnh..." Every breath was a painful struggle. Hakune arms wrapped tighter around her stomach, as if to beg the pain to leave her body as she writhed on the mat. The crowd, already furious at Scarlaheart's cruelty, were in a frenzy, but the voices felt distance. The pain shooting throughout Hakune's body made everything sound like a muffled blur. Only when she felt Scarlaheart's rough grip over her hair did she catch glimpses of her spiteful words, seeing her enraged face before a sharp slap snapped her back to full consciousness.

"Aah!" Her head snapped to the side, pain striking her cheek. "Graah!" Then to the other side. "Aah-!" And again.

And again.

And again.

Each one followed by a torrent of jeers from the crowd for Scarlaheart's cruel treatment toward the Samurai. Each one slowly forcing Hakune to stay awake and endure every painful sting until-

"Gh-!" She brought up an arm to block an incoming strike, gritting her teeth and wince at the woman upon the impact. Her slaps dizzied her, blurred her sight a little, but she still looked Scarlaheart in the eyes, glaring with pure-hearted anger. "I'm... not self-righteous..." She huffed out, pushing against Scarlaheart's arm. "I'm-" She reeled her other arm back, swinging her forward for a fast elbow strike to Scarlaheart's jaw. "-A WARRIOR OF JUSTICE!"

[Monsy]

Some bushido.
Slaps and slaps, more slaps, and then slaps. She needn’t even engage technique, but a fancy kick and the samurai became a plush toy that she slapped. No, weaker than a children’s doll. However, that forearm coming to stop Maria’s subsequent punishment was inevitable; instincts that Scarlaheart smirked at and cocked a brow. “That right?” Her arm shivered up as Maria fought this woman’s strength and sought to push her weight onto them and take this to the ground, where size can dominate and finish this woman quickly. But a spear of bone whipped into her chin. For a moment, she floated. Fell on her side, an elbow to catch her from crashing. One leg stacked on the other, her brain numbed, and she winced. Then the swollen pulse faded, replaced by this invigorating ache-like post-workout. A hand swiped her jawline, across her chin, and she spat onto the canvas. “What you are is dramatic.”

Maria pushed and hopped her feet underneath her, then sprang into a full stance. She moved her jaw right, left, then settled it and retook that smirk with a foot sliding back, that front hand now beckoning them forward. “But I’ll play along. Come on, lesser, I want to witness something other than one-lingers!”

[dlamp]

"Haa... haa... haa..." Silence. Save for Hakune's own breathing the whole arena was in stunned silence as Hakune's blow crashed into Scarlaheart and knocked her off. Whether it was the small Samurai's own strength or Scarlaheart's unwillingness to remain on guard, she was somehow able to get the woman away from her. And... she was completely down. It was only for a moment, but Hakune's blow was able to knock Scarlaheart flat on her back. There... was hope. She could do this!

Hakune took one more breath before steeling herself, meeting Scarlaheart's eyes as she rose up. She was barely injured, but that blow showed both of them what would happen if the taller wrestler let her guard drop again. "Kekko, Scarla-san..." Hakune pushed herself to her feet, eyes narrowed at her opponent, the red swelling on her face still showing from the harsh slaps, and she fought back a grimace as she glared. "I'll take you down!" She took her own stance, quickly charging forward and hopping to the air for a dropkick to Scarlaheart's stomach. "Haaaaah!" And she'd put in all the force her small body could muster to show how serious she was about this duel.

[Monsy]

They'd just have to become her chew toy. If not, allow her to play with them until she gets bored. That surprise rebuttal gave reason to fall back on conventional strategy, to scope them out to avoid another surprise. But Hakune's rush was another. A straight head-on charge with almost suicidal courage. It made Maria grit her teeth. This utter fool. How her eyes can roll. And neither could she predict their feet rallying up, which made her look down, and those hands sprang to grip the ankles. The momentum carried through, and Maria doubled over the legs and spat. "UGGH!" The pain constricted her stomach until it felt torn, and she heaved, then sucked in and gripped those ankles even tighter. She slid back and had to retreat one step, then buckled to a knee, coughing.

"You're not taking anything today but my foot in your face!" Maria croaked with a stern gaze, then opened up Hakune's legs and leaped in-between. Her knees tucked beneath her breasts, feet together until the shadow went over Hakune's head, then thrust down for its target, in unison like a machine of perfect violence.

[dlamp]

"Yaaah!" In the deeper part of Hakune's mind, she didn't think that kick would do much. Even with all her body into it, some part of her imagined Scarlaheart brushing it off. She was even able to grab onto Hakune's ankles at she made contact. And in that small bit of her mind... the Samurai found herself losing hope...

But... that didn't happen. Not completely.

Scarlaheart's body staggered back, her stomach recoiled, and the pained, ugly coughs she let out made it clear to both the crowd and Samurai herself that the the near-suicidal charge did its work. And for a moment, the was an outright explosion of cheers at the surprising feat. "Ugh!" Even as Hakune's body hit the ground and her head to a bad blow from the fall the Samurai had a shocked look on her face. She was still held by the ankles, still caught in Scarlaheart's clutches... but... the mountain moved. Just a little.

But Maria's words slammed Hakune back into the real world.

"M-Matte-!" The color drained from her face, she held up a hand to silently ask for mercy that wouldn't come. Her legs opened against her will, and her face turned red, embarrassment and fear painting her face. The look of a vengeful, hateful being loomed over the Samurai. "Matte! Matte matte!" A dark shadowed hovered over Hakune's face, her eyes going wide as she shook her head. "Ie..." It was a small, pitiful whisper, only heard by Hakune and Scarlaheart before the Samurai's pleading voice switch a pained shriek.

"Iyaaaaaaaa!" And it was Maria's turn to make Hakune's writhe in agony now. Pain burst through the Samurai's skull, her head shaking wildly as she felt tears start to flow down against her will.

It hurt. It was near unbearable. "Itaiiiiiiiiiii!"

[Monsy]

Impaled by two feet. How her guts could turn and dig their own grave. She found it nauseating, then, a burn-like candle wax that made you flinch, but ten times a second. Breathless was lucky; maintaining her feet was fate, and she’d not let it go forgotten, with two feet as her gratitude, piledriving soles planted into Hakune’s head. Maria’s momentum carried her onward, where she let go of their legs, turned around and watched them writhe. Still no life in those eyes. Not even a smirk, rather, just the opposite. “You call yourself a warrior but you’re crying over one kick? Give me a break.”

Her eyes rolled, head in tow, which garnered three cracks. A hand nursed her collar as she dropped to a knee, “I’ll give you something to scream for.” She said, hushed, so it was like a whisper inside a tunnel, beckoning them into this other world of pain. A hand reached out, grabbed their hair and pulled them off the canvas, but not too far; instead, just high enough so she could envelop their throat with a bicep and curl underneath so the forearm can push on their nape. Her knee slid into their lower back, more like drove. And with her second hand, she made it into a hammer, squeezed white-knuckle, hurled up, then swung for their stomach. Again… And again… and again...

[dlamp]

"Aaaaah! Aaaaaagh!" Pain was all that Hakune's mind could focus on. It was as if her skull had outright exploded from within as Scarlaheart's boots collided with her head. And all she could do was crowd out as the crowd was stunned to silence. Hakune herself barely moved aside from her writhing and shakes of her head. It was too much. Too much pain to react to, too much dread growing within her t mount a counterattack, and Scarlaheart rook full advantage. She loomed over Hakune, the Samurai catching only a glimpse of her blank, callous expression through her teary eyes much, flinching at her barbed insult.

Then, she grabbed Hakune by the hair, forced up to her feet with little the Samurai could do to stop it. Just short of fully standing, Scarlaheart locked Hakune around her arm, her body bent and prime for an attack. And then... a moment of dread. "Grah!" Her legs buckled at the blow to her back, her eyes widening as she knew that wasn't the end of things. Then-

"Grouh!" Her legs buckled again, a punch to her stomach. "Gruh!" And another. "Gaaaugh...!" And another. Each brutal hit getting a jeer from the crowd as they watch the brutality.

[Monsy]

It was a hammer upon an anvil. To see how their belly jiggled to these repeated blows, the jeers from the crowd fed her. She looked to the front row, an expression as lifeless as she gave her opponent, and stuck her tongue out. Her arm raised, and she tried to turn them, so Hakune’s stomach faced the person she eyed, and above them, her family. Then pointed at their stomach, and alas, drove one more overhead swing into their stomach. She released them in unison of the impact, letting them fall however they desired. It didn’t matter, for Scarlaheart had all the intentions in the world to put her boot on their side and roll them towards the ropes, stomping at an angle, then grab the top rope to wedge them to the outside floor, where she could stand tall. The only one in the ring.

[dlamp]

All Hakune felt was pain. Every blow Scarlaheart gave her forced a empty heave and gag of air out from her lungs, her mind spiraling into a throbbing war to just stay awake at each strike. "U-Uuuug..." No words came from her lips, the air deflated from her, only able to groan a pitiful noise of complaint and rejection.

The little bit of the crowd she could, their hatred for the brutal treatment, gave her a cold comfort. At least it wasn't a repeat of her match with the Baroness, a torturous display for a crowd of swayed to degeneracy. But the comfort didn't last. Hakune's body was forced to move. Her vision wasn't completely there, but... she could make out the row of red blurs in front of her.

"Guh!" But the vision blurred further from another blow. It was a reminder to the Samurai of the situation. This wasn't just a match, this was a performance, entertainment for the villainous group before her. "... ... ..." That's right... she couldn't just let herself be brutalized by this array of unrepentant plutocrats. "G-Gh..."

She flopped to the floor, taking one moment to breath before her body was kicked and shoved along the ring, let out pained hisses as her body throbbed and screamed with each movement before dropping outside the ring with zero fanfare.

"... ... ..."

And all was silent.

Several audience members looked over Hakune's bruised and battered body, the referee counting overhead as it was clear the girl wasn't stirring. Gasps echoed throughout, questions of if the young girl was even breathing after the beating she took. And the count continued, the referee looking down and over Hakune's body in a slight fear for the girl's condition. "Nn..." At the sixth count, Hakune's body moved. "Ma..." Her fingers started to move, slowly clenching into a fist at the seventh count. "Ma... da..." At the eighth count, her hands started to push against the ground, Hakune forcing a pained breath as bones and muscle creaked beyond their battered limits. "Mada..." And by the ninth count, her body slammed itself against the edge of the apron, her head finally poking out into the ring. Her eyes were wide open, glaring at the woman that unceremoniously kicked her out.

"MADA OWARANAI!"

And the crowd exploded in cheers as their underdog dragged her body back into the ring.

[Monsy]

So it seems. The unappreciative bark of these kid-minded masses just couldn’t accept what they saw. How her opponent, a loser, could appeal to anyone was something she didn’t understand. She found it humorous, but she couldn’t laugh. Instead, she yawned into her hand and turned the other way. Her leg lifted waist-high, then brought down, and took another, and her arm, cocked, swiped across her chest in jaded military-march-like fashion. After three mocked steps, she resigned her back to a corner. Both hands fell on her thighs, rubbed them, and she looked down at her boots, the sound of the referee’s count her only song.

But then something happened. The crowd seemed to liven.
They’d rouse from one side of the arena where their samurai was dunked. Maria’s head swivelled back and forth, looking out to catch their eyes, glued on one side of the ring, others trying to catch glimpses. She pushed from the corner and took the ring’s heart, leaning forward to see their scalp’s zenith rise. The glimpse of their forehead, their eyes, and that’s when she’d groan. “Don’t do it.” She pointed out to ringside, “Stay. Down!” A foot stomped. But they wouldn’t listen. The samurai rolled in with a war cry of “BUSHIDO!” from followers alike. Her finger stayed frozen as the resonation of voices could only stun Maria, and the four on that podium, to look around and react with a scoff. Just what malarkey did she have that she didn’t? It made so little sense. "Great. Here comes round two."

The power to command hearts to one’s cause, yet all Maria had the energy for was to curl her finger into a fist, purse her lips and nod. Impressive. She could only wonder how long they’d stay loyal, with goddesses like them in their midst. For now, she’d walk forward, dip her shoulder and claim a fistful of their silver hair, then walk back, and try to drag them along. They’d take to the ring’s centre, where she tilted her head straight up, huff, and started pulling them up. She wanted to tuck them beneath her armpit, wrap her arm around their neck, then grab Hakune’s opposite arm and throw it over her nape. That arm fell to their hip, and with bent knees and a thrust, she took them airborne!

However, the suplex’s coup de grace didn’t come. To make them a trophy, it was held, a suspended display that Maria turned with shuffling steps. Everyone got to catch a glimpse. Everyone deserved to see this. To feel what its like to get their cheers spat on; because when it came full-circle, Maria would kick her feet out and drop them onto their back, finishing the delayed suplex.