Match Type: Last Woman Standing Victory Condition:Making the oponent unable to fight for a count of 10
This wasn't funny. Tilde hasn't been here long and sure, she got booked for some unorthodox matches but while the rules were understandable this time, nobody made the courtesy of telling her who is going to be her opponent. Everyone, she asked only said that they are not allowed to share anything or they didn't know either. It went so far as to not even disclose the gender of her opponent but there was nothing she could do about that.
Nervously she waited backstage for the signal to enter the stage and as soon as she got onto the steps her music would start. She would run to the center of the stage throwing her fist up as she went to stop. As she did gouts of flame would erupt to the sides of the stage as she turned around to flex her back and arms for the audience. Entrance Music
Wrestling Attire
"Following contest is the Last Women Standing match! Coming into the ring from Avignon, France - standing at five feet four and weighing one hundred and seventy-three pounds! Tildeee Voclainnn! After the announcer finished she would jog down the ramp and slide under the ropes before getting to the corner and getting on the middle rope to flex for the audience one last time. Then she would turn and fixate on the stage to see who will be her opponent for this night.
Darkness crept from the unwanted creases and waged war on the light. Only the light of phone cameras and the surfaces reflected it. Soon they all swam in a void. And its victory unleashed a terrible red smoke from the stage, spilling from a hole and rising in a tall plume. It spread along the stage, down the rampway and over the edges. Crackling embers snapped off like a hungry fire, and the choir chant of the Reinhardt’s theme began. Fog continued to rise, and the orchestra built, hammered away as the darkness was contested by subtle red light.
A silhouette manifested in the wake. One woman sat on what appeared to be a tall throne with golden spires. Her head was visible on short passes as the fog fell, dissipating. That cool, calm and fiendish smile. A hellish eye, like a sea of blood inside them. Focused and sharpened, the other cloaked by silky velvet hair. One leg crossed over the other, her arms across the chair’s limbs, one holding onto a golden skull the size of her fist.
She stood, still cloaked, but the sight of her black, gold and red boots were now visible, shoulder-width. A long, high-collar cape draped around her, a chain and skull over her chest. It was faint, but all answers came nigh as wicked laughter emerged from the silhouette, her hands folded up, fingers curled, and she took her first step. Two torches in the corners where the stage and rampway met raged a tall spire of fire, then died out. Attire
Theme
“A-And her opponent… From Cologne, Germany… Standing Six-feet-Three, weighing in at one-hundred and ninety pounds… Karo-lina RAY… Rein-haaaaaardt!”
Karolina looked up, closing her eyes, raising her arms higher and making fists. They clenched until they shook, her breath held, then she let them loose, easing her arms down and breath, settling a fervent stare at her opponent, subtle smile and beginning to walk down the ramp, stepping on the red fog path laid out before her. Some even remained at ringside, and more spilled from her nostrils when she huffed out. The woman took a careful pace up the steel steps. Perhaps allowing people to sink further back into their seats. Or to admire the sheer image of perfection she offered, from muscle tone to a higher-cut leotard, a colour pattern she picked out herself and control over one-self that everyone should strive for.
She walked across the apron, slow and steady. Typical with one younger Reinhardt, it was almost customary for the official to seat the ropes; they hardly entered otherwise. But for Karolina, who shot the gesture down with a mere glance, she had another method. She gripped the top rope with two hands, leaned back far, then whipped herself over, going into a front flip and stomping down inside the ring, postured on one knee. Her cape swallowed her form, and she peered down at first before giving her first intent stare at her opponent this evening. One claw gripped the chain of her cape, undoing it, so it slid off. She then stood up in her full gear as the lights returned to normal, and the fog was finally dissipating entirely.
The referee called on both, and Karolina took two steps forward, looking down at them with a tipped-up chin, “How unfortunate this must be for you. HAHAHA, last as long as you can, Tilde Volcain. There is only shame in quitting.”
As soon as she could see who her oponent was, Tilde would freeze. For a moment not a single thought passed her mind before a short reaction formed in her mind. "Well, shit" immediately followed by her inner dialogue descending to shouting at herself probably as a way to distract herself. It didn't last long as she was jerked back to proper function by refeary calling them to the center. One thing had to be given to her in the moment, she didn't look scared. She had enough ring experience to handle her own image and all emotions stayed on the inside as she looked at Karolina not giving a single word of response before getting back to her corner to wait for the bell.
This time she would not try to open the fight with her own move. When the bell rung she got low into a grappling stance and slowly moved forward and to the side, trying to circle her opponent while paying close attention to her every move. Fighting careful wasn't really her style but it seemed like the best option now.
Not one for words? That was quite alright for Karolina. She took the bell with a small hop, starting with a walk forward and around to match them. A shoulder kept pointed at them, and she rolled both, cracked her neck both ways and sighed deeply. Then she hopped again, changing stance, dipping her knees and raising her hands to meet this grappling posture.
“Heh.” Karolina strafed in quickly, lunging with her arms in hopes to slam one hand on the shoulder and her other against the inside of their elbow for a common elbow and collar tie-up! One that would start with the force of a freight train as Karolina asserted her might into trying to force them back!
Tilde was a competent grappler, competent enough to know that a test of strength like this would likely end badly for her. Instead of trying to push back, as soon as they were tied she would go down and attempt a single-leg takedown. If she were to succeed in that, her next move would be to mount Karolina and start throwing punches at her. This was more of a distraction than anything else as she hoped to shift her position unnoticed so that she would be able to lock in a quick armbar.
Her footing was loose and she remained fluid. No tightness in her posture no matter how prim proper she appeared. Her breath was calm, held only when they clashed as one and Karolina threw her strength into it. But when Tilde went low, Karolina followed with her eyes. She doubled back with her hips and tried staying low, putting two hands on the back of Tilde’s head to push her posture down. The snatched leg tried hooking Tilde’s own behind the knee while Karolina reached to clutch the back of their opposite knee. When the momentum outdid her, she went with it and rolled onto her back, pulling Tilde along in what could be a crafty spadle counter!
Tilde would realize too late what was going on as she soon was turned around, landing on the ground in the spadle. She had an idea what to do however as she used certain loosnes short after landing to push the sole of her foot against Karo's thigh and push to get help leg out and roll in the direction of her other leg. Were she to be successful she would wrap her hands together and bring them down hard on her opponent's chest.
The grip only took moments to affirm, but with Tilde’s instinct, when she clenched, her leg only slid, her foot punching the canvas. “Tch.” Though Karolina remained eyes locked on her opponent’s movement, she was too slow to immediately shadow it. A tight-packaged double-hand fist rained and Karolina caught it with both hands, inches from her chest. The awkwardness of the angle proved some struggle with shivering in her arms like she’d be crushed if this force kept up. But, the delay was enough. She reached for one forearm, slid the grip to the wrist and rolled onto her knees. Now she tried to isolate the limb with a tug, and perhaps fold that arm behind their back, using her weight to lean into them in hopes to render them flat.
With Karolina now on her knees and pulling at Tilde's arm, she found herself struggling to keep control of her arm but ultimately she was no match for the strength of the larger woman as her limb was twisted behind her. Groaning in pain she tried to twist to ease the pressure on her hand but that only served to put her off balance enough for Karo to push her against the mat. Now, pressed against the canvas and with one of her limbs controlled by her oponent Tilde would try to rotate to get her limb somewhat in a better position, at least enough to stand back up.
Once Tilde’s arm was secured behind their back, the power became delectable. Karolina continued to use her weight against them, the struggle continued. Any movement from here allowed Karolina to witness it from a bird’s eye view. She licked her lips, “Keep that up, lesser. Struggle.” Then laughed.
She threw her far leg over Tilde’s back to take a back mount, facing their feet. She released the grip on their arm, instead gambled to grab one of Tilde’s legs, hoping to snatch the ankle. If successful, she would stand, one foot after the other, and step over to the side. Then she hooked the ankle and applied her fingers to the toe-end, torqueing it to crank an ankle lock!
