L.A.W. - League of Anime Wrestling

The momentum had shifted into Bandita's favor, and the spunky debutante was feeling it. That familiar energy, like lightning wrapped with fire, it coursed through her and made everything feel lighter than air. That was her comfort zone - through the aches, pains, and throbbing in her head from taking the shots earlier, her body felt like it could fly.

The girl rocks back onto her shoulders and smoothly nips up to her full height again in a single smooth, agile motion. Her boots thump to the mat, sending a gentle tremor along beneath Cassidy. And the blonde cowgirl gets her immediate attention - just in case. And just in time to see the arm give out beneath her. That signaled enough to send another rush of adrenaline through her, and she tucks the toe of her boot against her side to nudge her over onto her back.

A moment of meeting blue eyes to bright, lively hazel-greens, and the brilliant smile to match.

Then with a twist, Bandita shoots one arm into the air, the other out to the side. Her feet pop, and the slender Latina twirls with energetic panache, seamlessly flowing into a samba dance around the stunned cowgirl.


"Ándale, mi amiga~!," she calls as she twirls. The audience has entered a rhythmic clap with the sudden performance, boots stomping and skipping to the beat. "You said you weren't holding back! Neither will I!"

The twirl brings her right alongside Cassidy, facing out at the audience, where she suddenly stops and plants her feet together. The camera gets a quick, playful wink and a flash of the OK handsign before her knees bend and the luchadora pops into the air! She arcs in a single, elegant backflip, her toes pointing back, arms reaching above her head, her back arched to pull her midsection taut. The muscletone of her abdominal region is drawn more pronounced, tightened before coming crashing down directly across Cassidy's stomach, tan skin sealing against fair skin, abs colliding with abs in a standing moonsault.

The girl plants her palms to the mat and spread her legs, knees pushing into the canvas to better anchor herself. She raises her head and upper-chest area, putting the full weight of the pinned position against the American's stomach, solely with her own.

Cassidy could only stare up at Bandita as the luchadora danced around her, still trying to shake off the punishment she'd already taken.

Then Bandita launched herself.

THUD!

The standing moonsault crashed directly across Cassidy's stomach, forcing the cowgirl's body to jackknife around the impact before dropping flat again. Her face twisted in pain as the air rushed from her lungs, Bandita's weight keeping her firmly pinned beneath her.

The referee dropped beside them.

ONE!

Cassidy's legs shifted.

TWO!

She suddenly bucked hard and twisted a shoulder off the canvas, breaking the pin!

Cassidy immediately rolled away and struggled onto all threes...both knees planted and one palm against the mat...while her free hand clutched tightly across her aching abs.

Her head hung low as she breathed heavily, clearly hurting now.

But she was still in the fight.

Each slap of the referee's hand against the mat saw a determined, celebratory nod from the luchadora. If the match ended here and now, that would've been fine by her. It would've been a sharp turnaround from getting her metaphorical clock cleaned, and coming out on top with skill! Finesse! Showmanship!

With the first slap to the mat, Bandita arches in a little tighter. The warmth of her midsection presses harder across Cassidy's, abdominal muscles ground firmly into abdominal muscles. With the second count, her smile brightens-- no! She feels Cassidy's waist twisting under her, knowing already that the cowgirl had pulled a shoulder up off the mat to keep in the match!

Bandita is jostled back onto her knees, watching the blonde scramble to all three's. The arm looping her midsection is enough of a telltale read that her moonsault had dug in deep, just as it was meant to, and she leeaans forward onto all fours, herself. Her ribboned ponytail slides over her shoulder, masked face tilting to try to get a look at Cassidy's face. From what she can see, she looks winded. Beaten. Maybe similar to how she looked a bit ago... or, if she's being honest with herself, how she wishes she probably looked. The confusion and hurt in her heart from the unexpected strikes to her face probably made her look more pathetic. Like a girl out of her element.

That's... likely why Cassidy said what she said.

Pushing against the mat, Bandita pops to her full height again with an energetic hop. "Les' keep 'de fight going, then, ah!?," she announces, arms spread invitingly to either side. The audience responds with an encouraging roar.

The Latina closes in with Cassidy, confident she has her too dazed to properly fight back yet. It's the right time to really get technical with her, to show she can do more than zip around the ring! One hand grabs for a fistful of her damp blonde locks near the scalp, the other hand grabbing onto the supporting arm to help draw Cassidy up from her knees and closer to a vertical base.

Bandita had Cassidy exactly where she wanted her...or so it seemed.

As the luchadora pulled her back toward a vertical base, the cowgirl's head remained hanging, her body looking drained from the punishment she'd taken. But the moment Bandita came within striking range, something sparked Cassidy back to life.

Her blue eyes suddenly sharpened.

Cassidy twisted and drove her elbow hard into Bandita's stomach, using the sudden burst of offense to break free!

Once upright, Cassidy immediately went swinging.

WHAM!

A right hand toward Bandita's face.

WHAM!

Another.

WHAM!

A third.

WHAM!

And a fourth, Cassidy advancing with every punch while her left arm remained tucked near her aching stomach.

Then the cowgirl stepped back.

Her right arm began winding around and around, Cassidy putting her entire shoulder into the exaggerated motion as the crowd realized what was coming.

One final rotation—

Cassidy planted her boot and unleashed the wound-up right hand straight toward Bandita's face!

Bandita had no reason to expect the fiery cowgirl to spring back to life, right? Maybe? But she did. And Bandita paid for it with an elbow sinking firmly into her unprotected abs.

"Ungh!" The sound is a little squeaky, somewhere between a gasp and startled noise. The fingers briefly tighten in Cassidy's hair, but the firmness in her arm folds, and the grip on the other arm has dropped completely in favor of covering her own bare midsection. Just as her digits slip from those pale blonde follicles, Cassidy's fist swings in.

She connects solidly to the teenager's cheek, forcing her head to whip aside. "Uah!" That one was a pained cry, and she stumbles back. Before she can mount a defense, another strike hammers into her cheek, forcing her to remain off-balance and fumbling. The third strike elicits a genuine yelp from the girl, clearly still not accustomed to being punched like this. The fourth shot hammers into her delicate face, sending Bandita into a dazed spin on unsteady legs.

Her mind a haze of pain, confusion, and a dash of fear that just refuses to quiet down. The world is spinning, in no small part thanks to the fact that she, herself, is physically in rotation. But the steps bring her around to face Cassidy again, her arms hanging at her sides, her lips parted for each panting breath, chest pushing rhythmically against her bandeau-vest-style top. The eyes behind the mask are dazed, trying to catch up with what's happening logically, but unable to hide the hurt trying to well up again.

She'd hoped they were past the punches! Or at least, she convinced herself they were. Even though Cassidy had just taken a swing at her earlier. The idea of wanting to punch Cassidy in the face is so foreign to her, it's difficult to put into a rationality!

She knows she's winding up, at least on some level. But the punch isn't dodged, ducked, or blocked. She winds up taking it square on that cheek again. The girl's face is turned sharply aside, this time with a soft spray of spittle and sweat. Eyes squeezed shut from the impact, her cheek reddened from abuse, the Latina staggers back blindly until she feels the familiar press of cables against her. The arms are tossed back, half on pure reaction, half on purpose in a desperate play to stay on her feet. But she's slouched, her head hanging low, her knees sagging, looking utterly vulnerable to the brawler.