L.A.W. - League of Anime Wrestling

Standard match
Victory by KO, pinfall, submission, count-out, or disqualification.

Spoiler

These moments of waiting backstage had started to become a ritual of sorts for Raya. Rare moments of contemplation where silence overwhelmed her as her thoughts flickered between her past and future. She thought back to her previous matches. Her plan to take over Law by storm immediately had not panned out, that ship had long since sailed. All she could do was shift her goals to try and mitigate the damage that being thrust into the storm had caused her.

Sure, she had vastly underestimated the degree of skill and talent that Law possessed while also overestimating her own capabilities, but still, all of those losses that she had racked up so far had been giving her experience and things to learn, and little by little she’d been improving.

For the little wins she had, the losses she’d earned had mostly been very close matches, with the difference being that Raya, when it mattered most, seemed unable to clutch up and would drop the ball when it was time to turn these good performances into wins, and so she felt that her record did not reflect her current ability. Maybe at the start it did, but she’d grown since then, but despite that was still racking up far more losses than wins.

And yet, she knew in the back of her mind that if she kept this up it wouldn’t be long until things opened up and she’d be right back on track to stardom with a couple of good wins. The match tonight against Katsumi Oshiro would provide one such opportunity to kickstart a rise.

When it was time, she headed into the arena, laser-focused on just the ring as she stepped up with a slight rush, aiming to get this show on the road.

Raya had learned by now not to take any match easily and underestimate even the weakest looking of opponents, but even so, against Katsumi she’d have a decent advantage in both size and weight, and although that wouldn’t be enough to swing the match in her favor, it should surely prove a critical advantage during the later stages should the two be evenly matched. It might be the decisive factor as long as Raya managed to stay in the game and push her opponent as much as she could.

She entered the ring and stood there, waiting for her opponent to arrive.

She wouldn't be kept long.

Katsumi had decided to forego her usual pomp and circumstance, with the jacket and sunglasses as entrance attire. She's thinking about Tomorrow. Not the literal tomorrow. The Tomorrow with a capital T. The one that's just peeking over a dark and dismal sky with the golden rays of dawn, promising something bigger. Something better. Something legitimizing.

She's thinking about her upcoming PPV match in China. She's thinking about what it means to've finally garnered the attention of the suits, after wading through so much competition. She's thinking- no, hoping, that this means things are going to change. That she won't get shafted again for being too... what were the words used? Antisocial?

Assclowns. The lot of'em.

She has the chance for real momentum. To validate every sacrifice she's made, to up-ending her life's trajectory and losing everything just to follow a dream. ...To justify.

A motion from a tech-worker snaps Katsumi's focus to the fore again. She begins bobbing nimbly from foot to foot in a shuffle, elbows tucked and swinging. She's on in three... two...

The 'tron comes alive...

Vivid green and purple laserlights dance along the entry ramp as spotlights swirl. The crowd is starting to rile, though the exact tenor is difficult to place. Is it cheering? Is it scorn? Whatever it is, it's fully-invested noise. There are no undecided spectators here tonight, it seems. Nothing short of strong reactions.

When the preamble of the music crescendos and Katsumi's sizzle reel begins to play, the punkette strides out onto the platform and comes to a halt in power stance. Her arms cross tight beneath her bust, her gaze set in confident glare across the arena to her opponent - Raya.

Katsumi Oshiro

She shoots a glance left to half the audience, then a follow-up to the right to the other half. And suddenly, her arms whip high into the air, accompanied with a burst of rich purple cold sparks along the stage's edge - a quartet of colorful geysers, bathing her and the nearby audience in an amethyst glow.

Then begins the march towards the ring, both hands raised at shoulder height with palms turned out to either side, simultaneously acknowledging and ignoring both fans and detractors alike.

"AND HER OPPONENT!," begins the ring announcer. "At a height of 5'7", and weighing in at one hundred and twenty-four pounds!"

"From Osaka, Japan!"

"The Punk Princess herself!"

"KATSUUMIIIII! OOOOSHIIIROOOO!"

The punkette sweeps herself smoothly up and onto the ring apron, pivoted in the same motion to face out at the audience she'd just breezed by. Her left fist is presented, and the right hand slowly cranks beside it - painstakingly presenting her middle finger to them.

"Muah," she air-kisses.

Katsumi's back arches over the top rope, and she elegantly rolls backwards over it and onto the mat. From there, it's a race to the furthest turnbuckle, ascending the ropes in rapid footfalls only to throw her arms wide and present herself to that half of the arena. The stadium rocks with a cacophony of mixed emotions, and Katsumi lets it wash over her, through her, energizing her. Love her, hate her, it all pays to her in dividends.

With a pert little twist, she hops down from her perch and approaches her designated corner. As she crosses the ring, her gaze fixates on her opponent, taking her in. She'd done essentially zero research on her beyond the notion that she's newer to the federation. She looks very fit - abs the likes of which she could be jealous over for ages. Whatever genetics Katsumi earned, it didn't matter how many crunches or curls the girl did, that kind of six-pack is just always out of reach.

But life's little unfairnesses wouldn't matter long. She has suits to continue impressing. She has an audience to electrify through the gift and art of paingiving. And she has a downright Amazonian chick upon which to paint her masterpiece.

By the time she's reached her corner, there's a wickedly confident little smile tugging the corners of her lips. The pat-down from the mousy referee-girl is mostly ignored, those piercing emerald eyes existing only to try to match with Raya's.

"Hey!," she suddenly shouts to her. "What's with the raspberry Tina Turner wig!?"

So begins one of Katsumi's favorite parts of meeting someone new in the ring: teasing the Hell out of them. It can't be helped. She wouldn't be able to resist it if she tried. And first impressions are, after all, very important!

Raya watched as Katsumi made her way across the arena in a show, playing to the crowd. She had gotten used to these types of spectacles, but even so couldn’t help but roll her eyes. She stood there, arms crossed, hoping for her opponent to hurry up so that they could get this ridiculous part over with and get on with the good stuff.

As Katsumi entered the ring, Raya would scan her from head to toe and realized that the other woman was also doing the same.

Unlike her other matches, Raya didn’t feel any tingle of intimidation, she had gotten used to getting in a ring with physiques that looked like they could crush her, and to say the least, now that she had gotten a close up at Katsumi, it was obvious that she didn’t have as much to worry about in that aspect. But even then, she shrugged inwardly, reminding herself that letting her guard down in any way would be a fatal mistake here at law, as she had already had been shown on multiple occasions. Despite Katsumi’s smaller stature in comparison to Raya, she would surely put up a good fight in other ways, all Raya had to do was be ready to take her on.

Raya was about to say something, but her opponent beat her to it and shouted something about her hair, leaving her slightly flustered, as she was usually the one who initiated these pre-match interactions, and so she was now left surprised with this turn of events, being unprepared to defend herself from that comment.

“Sh-shut up, it’s not a wig! And it’s not “raspberry”, it looks cool!” Raya yelped instinctively, not knowing what to say, and immediately regretted the words that came out of her mouth that made her look like a fish out of water. She’d embarrassed herself before the match even started, losing the war of words without even putting up as much as a fight. She continued, trying to make up for her mishap, but the damage was already done to her ego. “I mean, it’s not as if you look any less ridiculous yourself, miss edgy goth, or whatever you are! We’ll see how talkative you are when I smash you into paste!”

She tried to forget the slight humiliation by ignoring the outside noise, readying herself for the match and reminding herself that nothing that happened outside of that would have any effect on the result of the match itself, all she’d have to do is get that victory and the slight blunder on her part would be forgotten by everyone.

When the match would finally begin, she’d go forward, immediately put her hands up and attempt to go for a lock up in a test of strength, although this was just a formality. Raya was certain that Katsumi wouldn’t be foolish enough to try and take her head on physically, and so she’d stand ready for any tricks that the other woman would try to pull off.

Katsumi's heart flutters and her smile widens. This match just got a lot more interesting. A lot more fun. She adores people she can pick at, and the fact that this chick is more muscle-defined than her and... seems taller at a distance, just makes it all the better. It's a weird quirk in the girl, but being able to get under someone's skin is a way of enjoying that person's company. Even in a wrestling ring.

The Punk Princess is a born troll in an egregiously pretty package. It can't be helped.

Seeing Raya approach the center of the ring, Katsumi arches her body languidly and slips forward at a confident stride. "That's why they call me Norelco," she quips smoothly. "So much edge I might cut'cha to the bone."

She wasn't insulted. Even this 'comeback', in as much as it could be considered one, is delivered with a sort of self-aware playful lilt.

The invitation for a test of strength is noted with a little blink. She looks at Raya's arms with theatric exaggeration as they're presented. First the left. Then the right. Then with an impish moue, she raises her arms in a foux-flex. Granted, Katsumi's body is noticeably toned, and the smoothly streamlined muscles along her arms pop in definition. But this is obviously a deliberate display of ego and confidence. It's kind of a sort of mockery.

But perhaps surprisingly, she does ultimately go for those hands. She takes a moment to ensure she's delicately laced her fingers between Raya's, pressed the palms together, and--

Her right foot thrusts forward, aiming to drive into the other woman's unprotected stomach in hopes of stunning her and forfeiting the test of strength. No, she didn't have any real intention of going toe to toe with her in a raw contest of physical force.

Raya would ignore that last remark by Katsumi, she’d admit defeat in the battle of quips, but was now fully focused on the physical battle that would take place within the confines of this ring.

Raya would wait for Katsumi’s reaction, observing what the other woman would plan to do, to which she would approach and lace her fingers between Raya’s, their palms press together, and for a moment Raya almost believed she’d go for it when suddenly Katsumi’s right foot launched straight at Raya’s stomach, to which she was prepared for.

It was a move similar to one Raya remembered pulling off herself against an opponent who offered her a lock up but she wasn’t sure she could beat, so to find herself on the other side of it now was ironic, but would also bode well for her, knowing exactly what to do while having predicted that Katsumi wouldn’t dare take the challenge straight up and instead take Raya’s bait.

Raya would immediately raise her left leg up to intercept the blow, and the moment they’d collide, she’d then tighten her grip on Katsumi’s hands and try to pull her arms forward, and in that case, if she managed to do so, she’d then try to wrap her own arms around Katsumi’s body and lift her up in an attempt to squeeze her into a bearhug.

Her kick is met with a knee. Katsumi has just one second to process this. Her kick. Was caught. With a knee. No one's ever done that before. Aren't they supposed to be, like, all in on trying to humiliate her? On trying to overpower her? Isn't that how this is supposed to work!? And then she does something sneaky and voids the whole effort while gaining the upper-hand! That's how it's supposed to be!

It's not how it worked here.

Her arms are yanked, not having enough time to protest. She's released, but the other woman pulls her body in hard against herself, focusing at the belly. "Angh!" The initial squeeze is enough to elicit the yelp. Her gloved hands quickly find Raya's upper-arms, her back arched.

There really isn't that much difference between them in height. But three inches can feel like quite a bit when it's accompanied with some thirty additional pounds, and she's bodily pressed into her. Her legs squirm, thigh brushing against thigh as she tries to find her footing. Her hips are pressed snugly against Raya's, every shift pressing them together. She's feeling more of Raya's bare, tight abdominals than she intended to this early as her own tight stomach is pulled in, her breaths a little shorter and strained. The soft curvature of her breasts press hard into Raya's, and Katsumi glares into her eyes.

The referee-girl steps in close beside the pair, waiting for a tapout!

Raya smirked as she watched Katsumi glare at her. It was clear her opponent had expected her to go all in on the lock and leave herself wide open, but that hadn’t happened, and now Raya was able to quickly get the advantage.

As her abs pressed into Katsumi’s stomach, she flexed them slightly, trying to assert her dominance through physical superiority. She wrapped her arms tighter around the woman’s waist and tried to squeeze harder, trying to squish the fight out of her.

“What’s wrong, princess?” Raya cackled smugly. “Barely seconds in and you’re already helpless at my mercy!”

Then, instead of continuing to squeeze and try to get a tap, she’d instead move to throw Katsumi down and slam her against the mat on her back, hoping to stun her!

"Aangh!," Katsumi cries out as the pressure tightens around her waist. Her fingers curl, digging in against the other woman's arms. Her eyes squeeze shut and she clamps her jaw tight, trying to focus through the pressure against her middle. Those freaking abs. Bane of her existence. Envious of them at first, now they're being used to crush her. The sense of the rippling muscletone beneath the span of smooth skin is as overwhelming as the general and immediate body contact, every point of the front of their bodies locked together.

"Do you submit!?," demands the referee.

"Nng, no!"

Her left knee lifts,inner thigh drifting against Raya's outer thigh in some vain effort to pull away, but it's no use. However, rather than stay in this bodylock with her slightly larger opponent, she finds herself hoisted and thrown down against the mat, landing with a hard BANG against the canvas. Katsumi bounces once before coming to rest mostly flat, her back arched upwards in recoil from the impact.

Raya would tower over Katsumi’s body, smiling down with her arms crossed as she looked down at her.

“Is that all you got, princess?” She said, “Cause if not, I got plenty more in store for you!”

Of course she knew this wasn’t enough, but she couldn’t resist taunting the fallen woman. This was one of the rare times where the start of a match had gone completely in her favor, and she’d enjoy every moment, taking full advantage of her struggling opponent who had fallen totally into her trap.

But still, letting up completely and gloating for long enough until Katsumi had recovered would also not be the correct course of action, so after taunting her with those words, she’d then reach down to her opponent who was still laid out on the mat and would attempt to grab her then carry her over her shoulders, placing her in a torture rack and beginning to stretch her out. If she succeeded, she’d then start cockily mocking Katsumi again.

“Have you had enough, yet? We’re only just getting started, but I’ll be nice and give you a chance to submit to me and admit who the superior wrestler is!” She would ask the woman trapped on her shoulders if all went well.