VIP vs. Leonie Bowen - NHB "I Quit" Match

[Dubski]

Vanessa I. Price had thrown her more concentrated, but still rather reckless forearms towards the redhead's head, her anger more than apparent. And yet, this girl was smiling at her despite any attacks she threw at her. The mad little child. Keeping her hand on her neck to steady her, she could feel Leonie trying to pry it off, and making headway yet. It wasn't a feasible sort of plan, as loose of a plan as it was, but she was feeling more and more fed up with Bowen's crap, even so early on in this match.

And her taunting--the girl's incessant, annoying talking. She wanted to make it cease. And so she laid a few more blows until she could come up with a proper plan--albeit a simple one. There was an easy way for her to make Leonie shut her smug mouth. And an easy way to wipe that arrogant self-aggrandizing smile off her face. Punching wouldn't work. Forearms wouldn't work. She would need something to make a bit more clear of a statement.

"Not. Quite," said Vanessa with two final forearms before quickly getting to her feet and attempting to place her boot on the face of Leonie. Once she had, she would quickly perform a brief spin on top of her face and keep walking past her, effectively trying to give her a wicked face wash, with the hopes to literally wipe that smile off of her opponent's face.

[FreestylePoet]

Some wrestlers believed that their sport wasn't just physical but also mental. That getting into an opponent's head was just as valid a way to win as overpowering them through might. If you asked her, Leonie would probably agree with that sentiment. But that wasn't what was fueling her now. Nah, she was doing this because she liked hearing Vanessa squirm.

She pushed up off the ground, attempting to sit herself up and pursue her opponent as best she could. Vanessa's foot put a stop to that, though, by forcing her head back onto the canvas! "Oof -- YAAGH!" And then spun, dragging the sole of her boot across every inch of the redhead's face! Leonie's cries were muffled but clearly pained; she could feel the sear of rubber across her nosebridge, forehead, and cheekbones! Hers was a wicked pirouette, powered by both friction and Vanessa's weight!

Not soon enough, it was over. "Ugh," she scoffed as she sat up and turned towards VIP. "I-" Her further protests were cut off by a sudden outburst of laughter from around the ring. Leonie glanced up at the Titantron and saw what had them all in a tizzy: Vanessa's boot, it seemed, had burned a telltale shoeprint on her face! It was warped by her circular motion, but clear as day. Her rough fingers confirmed the chafe's presence, and the red mark was swiftly matched in color by the rest of her face.

Leonie made to rise, incensed by the facewash and the audience's reaction. She was gonna lose some major street cred, and that she could not abide. Leonie surged forth, rushing at VIP low and fast, hoping to take her up into her strong arms -- without so much as considering what Vanessa herself might have been planning!

[Dubski]

Vanessa's face wash was a success, catching that ridiculous redhead with her boot to cause her her severe pain and discomfort across the finer features of her face. A simple, but effective move that Price was sure could only improve how Leonie looked. And when she had stepped past a few pacers, she looked at the titantron with great satisfaction. Her face wash was extra successful, giving her one hell of a scrape on her face.

Resting a hand on her chin, the fashionista simply watched the giant screen with a huge smile on her face, letting out a small laugh, especially with the crowd now laughing at her too--a great success with how much that audience seemed to loathe VIP. That's when she saw on the titantron that Leonie was making a charge at her now. A bigger smirk flashed across her face as she watched it before ultimately waiting until the right moment and swinging around to the side of Leonie!

Then, as Leonie's balance was off, VIP would strike. Vanessa grabbed Bowen around the face and threw all of her body weight smashing her down into mat. Then, she placed her legs around Leonie's arm and pulled back hard with a Crossface she called Stick Your Neck Out. However, that wasn't her full intent with the move. After keeping it locked in, she would then start to move her gloved hands back and forth, attempting to rub and scrape the already raw skin on her face to cause even more pain to it, and likely exacerbate how bad it already looked!

[FreestylePoet]

She was gonna get Vanessa for this. Pay back every ounce of disrespect with interest! By the time Leonie was done with her, this city girl would regret stepping into the ring with her. And the first step in getting there was picking Vanessa up and planting her into the mat!

Until it wasn't. Leonie swiped at air, finding no fancy-clad waist to wrap her arms around. Instead, she found her own head wrapped up in Vanessa's hands, and her hard charge swept off its feet. The farmer girl was unceremoniously slammed into the mat, but she had little time to even grunt at that before her arm was trapped and used as leverage! "Hrrgh!" She grit her teeth as her body was bent in two via a particularly brutal yank at her arm and face.

And then came the rubbing! "RRAGH!" Vanessa's gloves scraped across her face, digging into the already-chafed skin! It was like being lashed with a dozen thorny shrubs. Her wounds burned from pink to red, and her free arm thrashed about as she screamed her pain. "THAT HURTS, DAMMIT!" It was all she could do to show her defiance, given her position and current sensory overload. Eventually, that arm settled for balling a fist and slamming it down on the canvas like a child throwing a tantrum. A child whose strength was enough to shake the canvas, but a child nonetheless.

[Dubski]

Vanessa I. Price was nothing if not determined to win, and taking any sort of advantage needed to do so. She held in her Crossface and ruthlessly grinded her gloves against the rough skin of Leonie's face as the girl screamed out in agony. It was blissful to VIP's ears as she kept the hold locked in with a satisfied smile.

"Well, Liony, there is a very simple way out of this. Just said... That you quit. And all of this can be forgiven, and you can go back to your common life where I've already forgotten about you," said Price simply. She was content with a victory however she could get it. At the very least, if she didn't get her to submit here, Vanessa was sure it would get into Bowen's head even more.

And then, to accent her point, VIP would give a finally hard scrape of her gloves against Leonie's face before yanking back on the Crossface as hard as she could, aiming to bring a new level of pain to her rather brash opponent.

[FreestylePoet]

The burn of gloves against her face continued, and her back was wrenched into an even crueller C. She wouldn't yield though. Especially when Vanessa I. Price was asking her to. The pain was something she could handle. It was like a bump or bruise in the harvest; she couldn't let it keep her down, no matter how much it hurt. She'd just have to grin and bear it.

But then VIP said something that really set her off -- perhaps unexpectedly, to the patrician. "L-Liony-?!?" All that bluster, and all the farmer girl could think about was how ruthlessly her opponent had butchered her name. See, a name was a special thing. The very first thing her parents gave her, in fact, and Leonie wasn't about to let some fat cat step all over it.

"Hrrk... It's..." Leonie grabbed her opponent's wrists then pushed up with ferocity! "LEONIE!" Once more scraping VIP's rough gloves across her face, but hopefully also giving her nothing else to pull on! If she succeeded, the effect would be something like a freshman getting their chair pulled out from under them. By paying the small price of one last rub of the crossface, Leonie would hopefully send VIP tumbling backwards!

[Dubski]

Content to just keep yanking back on Leonie, Vanessa I. Price felt confident that if she wasn't about to get a submission here, it would put Bowen into enough pain that it would stick with her the rest of the match. And she was willing to wait to see if something would change for that.

Then, VIP scowled as she felt Leonie grab at her hands. With a light groan, Vanessa continued to hold on for as much as she could. It seemed like this redheaded whelp finally got her second wind. Slowly, she could feel her grip on the hold slipping until finally Leonie had an outburst verbally, and then physically.

Vanessa went toppling back, rolling on the mat slightly as she gave a quick glare to her opponent. "Do you think I care what your name is?" retorted Price in annoyance. "I'll forget it, and you, when this is over. But you'll be thinking of me for a veeeeery long time!" She pushed herself back up, going right for Bowen, content to simply try walking up to give her a kick straight to the ribs, hoping to make her disdain very clear for Bowen.

[FreestylePoet]

With one push up, Leonie managed to slip VIP off of her. She couldn't celebrate for long, though, as Leonie needed to rise to her feet before continuing the fight. She soon did, and closing the distance was her next move -- though she was swiftly cut off by a quick kick to her ribs!

"Tch..." The expensive boot left a dot of pain on Leonie's side, staggering her. Leonie's face twisted, more a scowl than a grimace. "Damn right I will. I think I'll treasure the memory of wiping that stupid look off your face." If Leonie's opponent was so eager to forget this whole thing and move on with her oh-so-important life? She was going to make Vanessa remember her.

Leonie lunged at Vanessa, raising her arm and wildly throwing it at her face! All she needed to do was connect, then she'd be able to do whatever she wanted in this ring to burn an image of herself into Vanessa's brain. Her wild haymaker had all the strength and frustration in the world behind it, it seemed, but none of the direction that finesse would offer!

[Dubski]

Vanessa I. Price's kick landed hard to Leonie's ribs, the simple move bringing joy to the vicious fashionista. A smug look on her face, she stepped back with a laugh as Leonie replied to her taunting. "I don't think you can talk about how stupid anyone's face looks tonight, because I think you left some of your cheek on the bottom of my boot," said Price with a laugh, quite amused by her own insult.

However, the angry redhead was already coming at her fast. But she wasn't disciplined. She was running entirely by anger, and very unfortunately for her, that sloppiness is precisely where VIP thrived. Leonie came at her with that punch and Vanessa ducked it narrowly, taking advantage of the utter wild force behind it, and she would grab hold of her arm after she ducked it.

And, a moment later, Vanessa would leap up and attempt a Flying Cross Armbreaker she calls the Arm Drill, attempting to take down Leonie by her arm, spin to land with a Cross Armbar applied, looking to absolutely tear at that limb now, very keenly aware of the I Quit stipulation attached, and she knew that if she could land this painful submission, it would take her one step closer for Bowen to potentially quit and put an end to this match.

[FreestylePoet]

Leonie swung... and Leonie missed. Her haymaker swung just wide as Vanessa suddenly disappeared from its path. Then that arm was stopped in its tracks by VIP's silken-clad arms! Her well-to-do foe then leapt up, pulling her down by the arm and landing in an armbar position! "Aargh!" Leonie grunted as the pain started to tear at her rotator cuff, burning and slowly spreading through the rest of her arm.

She nearly compressed her shoulder trying to yank that arm away from its captor. Her free arm and legs writhed helplessly, the clear strength in her frustrated muscles demonstrably useless. Leonie looked around, as if something would magically appear from the empty canvas to bail her out, only to find herself staring right at VIP's smug little face.

And she grinned. Flashed Vanessa a wide, toothy smile that didn't match her position at all. Suddenly, Leonie Bowen found herself filled with a new surge of confidence. Maybe she couldn't escape this anytime soon. But pain was nothing new to Leonie, and she guessed that Vanessa didn't even know the definition of the word. Leonie Bowen would be damned if she'd let some gussied up city slicker tap her out from an armbar!

"Y-You're gonna have t'do better than that, Miss Rich Bitch...!"