Match Type: Handicap Smother Elimination Match (2-on-1)
Victory Conditions: Eliminate both members of the opposing team via smother knockout. Once a wrestler is smothered unconscious, they are eliminated and are disallowed from getting involved in the match. The match continues until both Love & Lust have been eliminated or Edith is knocked out.
The familiar funky tune echoed through the arena, and the lights began to dance along with the rhythm. When the music hit its second pause, a single spotlight snapped on, catching a figure standing tall at the top of the ramp — Edith Una, back turned to the crowd.
As the beat returned, she spun gracefully on her heel, one hand adjusting her violet flannel blazer before striking a classy, confident pose. The audience erupted with cheers. Despite her confidence, she wasn't exactly as calm and collected as normal. Earlier on she was told she was in a "smother knockout match" which the girl even HEARING about the concept, the only thing she could think off was a flashback to Jasmine and her cake smothering her in one of her various pranks. Regardless of this unusual stipulations of the match, Edith walked toward the ring with that same calm, deliberate pace she was known for — as she exhaled quietly, her caramel cheeks carrying the faintest warmth. The match type had been... unconventional, to say the least, but she was here to perform, no matter how suggestive the setup, so even with the blush, she put the thoughts to the back of her mind.
She made her way down the ramp with composed strides, and as she reached the ring, Edith paused on the apron, whipping her feet, before slipping into the ring, and hitting her pose.
Finishing her entrance, she began a brief warm-up: as she rolled her shoulders in slow, precise motions, loosening up the tension in her back, twisting her waist to stretch out her core, the fine fabric of her shirt giving a outline of her abs, giving the crowd a glimpse of the sleeper build she had under that fancy attire. She shifted her weight, bringing her legs through a careful series of lunges and bends that spoke to the discipline behind her calm demeanor. The cut of her custom tailored slacks and fancy pants allowed her to be more flexible, shown when she dropped into a full split with remarkable ease, hands on her head as she stretched back and forth.
The crowd murmured at the smoothness of the elegance of the pose for a few moments, she stayed there, breathing deeply, the stage lights glinting along her caramel skin and the crisp lines of her shirt. Then, with the same quiet precision, she pressed her palms to the mat and rose, brushing off her blazer as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Straightening her tie, Edith turned toward the ramp again. Every line of her posture was composed and confident, the image of a professional ready for anything, though the faint flush on her cheeks betrayed how aware she was of how lewd of a match she’d been drawn into.
