Standard Match: Rose Martinelli vs Spectre — A Lasting Taste

[Monsy]

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ROSE MARTINELLI VS SPECTRE

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Standard Match
All Normal Rules Apply

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Spectre occupied the rafters far above the ring, invisible to everyone. Her full attire already donned. A purple top, chequered purple skirt, a tight latex tummy, black boots, arm sleeves, one latex, the other netted.

Her laptop was on the railing. On it, she had two assessments.
One was a collection of Wrestling Podcasts, YouTube videos reporting Wrestling News, popular tweets and article links. All about herself, of course, even if there were few. The second was about her opponent, which were simple sticky notes to remind her who she was dealing with one last time before any encounter.

Spectre's Sticky Notes

-- Name: Rose Martinelli.
-- Age: Early Twenties.
-- Threat Level: Very low.
-- Ring Style: ( Developmental + new ) Basic puroresu knowledge with hints of striking.
-- Known Winning Moves: Crossface ( vs Chie Akiyama )
-- Biggest Obstacle? Surprises.
-- Notes: Opponent exhibits a rounded style with unclear habits, likely due from lack of appearances. Attitude is non-malicious. Crowds tend to favour her. Very well-endowed with a rose ( flower ) theme. Research within the industry indicates a standard rise to LAW through rudimentary channels. Goals are unknown. Nothing more to note. No further research needed.

Solution: Option One.

“Hmmm…” Underneath the mask, Spectre pushes up a faint smug smile. She stows the laptop in her knapsack and pulls out her second. Already running with a program pulled up, the AV admin account signed-in and primed for her shenanigans. Her workshopped entrance sequence, with its simplified effects and motions, began soon after. The chromed skull mask appears on the Titantron with its purple nuclear eye spinning in its socket. The crowds stir with uncertain surprise. They search and settle on the entrance ramp.

The techno started up. Church bells.

!

Quickly, Spectre taps away at her keyboard and hurriedly brushes her thumb pad to find another program. She squints. Finally, she got it. TAIT Navigator — access to a lot of automation and show running goodies. Her favourite part of this.

After pressing the bottom to begin executing her setup, overhead, a black cable and steel hook lowers at a gradual speed. She stows the laptop, takes a turn and jumps the guardrail. A hand seizes the cable. She catches the hook with her heel. Her back rests against the table. An arm above her head. The other dangles.

The audience were the size of mowed grass glades, growing slowly. Not long into her descent, a spotlight catches her. The crowd points! The blue-eyed Cyberninja lowering towards the ring, with two red crowbars attached to the belt on her hips.

"This is a standard contest scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, from parts unknown. Standing at Five-Foot-One and weighing One-hundred pounds! Speeeeeectre!"

At around six feet, like clockwork, Spectre steps off and free-falls the last portion. She hits the top turnbuckle with connected ankles, a squat to absorb the shock and a hand placed on top of the turnbuckle pad. The crowd responds with a rouse of noise. Spectre gingerly touches her covered ear briefly, and feels a sting. The crowbars are hooked on the top rope, then she hops down to take her corner. Pacing between the adjacent ropes, Spectre waits.

.

[Sigma Morgan]

It had been awhile since Rose had been booked in a match, something that was certainly exciting for her as she began to think she might never get another match having not even won any of her previous ones. Getting read for her match Rose slipped on her updated ring attire, it wasn't that different from her original though it did add a floral pattern that made it stand out a bit more. After slipping it on and adjusting it in all the right places Rose sat down and laced up her boots, Rose really didn't know anything about her opponent outside of the woman's name though by the end of the night Rose would likely know a bit more about her win or lose... preferably win.

Rose then got up and pulled her flower hairpiece from the shelf in her locker, quickly putting it in her hair Rose made sure to adjust it so it wouldn't fall out during the match, when she was done she went out the door and into the hall. Rose smiled and greeted each staff member as she passed them, part of her was happy and excited for her match, the other half was anxious and nervous, unsure what kind of opponent she was facing but she needed to remain focused, she needed to win, she needed to prove herself.

Rose

Rose soon reached the curtain, stretching her arms as she listened to her opponent's music and waited for hers to begin. Hearing Spectre's music die down her own started a few seconds later and Rose immediately skipped out onto the ramp stopping and smiling at the crowd for a few moments.

AND HER OPPONENT STANDING AT 5'7 AND WEIGHING 138LBS! ROSEEEEEEE MARTINELLI!!!!

Rose then continued to skip down the ring waving to the fans in the front row. Getting off the ramp Rose took a lap around the ring before sliding in and getting her first good look at her masked opponent. "Hi" Rose said giving her a nervous smile and a small wave before going to her corner.

[Monsy]

Nothing out of the ordinary.

A simple entrance. Smiles, waves. Things she didn’t waste time on.
They were tools at best. But also noisy, snake-y leeches. What was more important was that they now shared the ring, and the fight could progress. Yes, she heard the notion of Hi -- and she chose very purposely to say nothing back. Instead, she acknowledged with an attitude-filled eye-roll. The referee came to Spectre's corner.

She checked Spectre’s hands and sleeves, then tapped her boots for any metal. The referee also removed the crowbars dangling on the top-rope and slid them beneath the bottom turnbuckle. She continued to pace and watch her opponent meanwhile. A baleful stare framed as already unconscious and viscerally slobbering over herself, with sweat, bruises, blood and torn clothes—awaiting a stretcher. Flutters hit her tummy just thinking about it. It made her breathe deeply with a bit of hot steam under the mask. Pink on her masked cheeks. This was her future, and Martinelli didn't know it yet. Spectre was itching to say it, but didn't want to ruin the surprise.

It was Rose Martinelli’s turn for the referee. Hands. Feet. Standard procedures.

If Rose got herself cleared (presumably) — then they were set and ready to wrestle before thousands of eager wrestling fans, divided between wanting a mauling and a new underdog. Spectre grabbed the adjacent ropes in her corner and leaned off them, foot back, eyes forward.

The bell rang.

DING DING DING.

Following her match plan, she bull-rushed Rose from corner to corner, hunting her as a wolf going head-long for an injured deer. Blitz. One second, two seconds, and she’d be upon her. Spectre dove into a handstand. Her legs swung over vertically and landed, back to her opponent. Then she jumped into a backflip with a perfect arch. Her legs kicked once, twice, thrice. Left-right-left. Charging up for that third kick ( left leg ) to crack Rose Martinelli right on top of her skull. The

NOTE: This, but FASTER.

!

[Sigma Morgan]

Rose smile turned a little awkward as Spectre simply rolled her eyes at her, not saying a word or greeting her in return. Rose decided it was best not to make a big issue out of it, instead she leaned in her corner, watching as the referee checked Spectre's gear for any foreign metal or weapons, noticing the crowbars as the referee put them under the turnbuckle. Thank god it was a standard match so Rose didn't have to worry about it right? Right?

The referee then approached Rose giving her the same treatment they gave her opponent, not like anyone would have to worry about that from Rose, she would never bring a weapon to the ring with her not wanting to risk injuring her opponent under any circumstance. As the referee checked her attire the pink haired woman stared at her opponent feeling a bit nervous with the way the woman was staring at her.

Before Rose could say anything the referee cleared her and was ready to start the match. Rose then heard the bell ring suddenly catching her a bit off guard as she looks she previously received from her opponent broke her concentration. Rose was planning to meet her opponent in the center of the ring like she normally would be she took one step forward and closed her eyes trying to concentrate opening them to see Spectre was already closing in and just a second away from her. There was almost nothing Rose could do as her opponent's kick landed on the top of her head causing her to stagger back in the corner obviously rattled by the woman's opening attack.

[Monsy]

Spectre’s boot heel cracked off Rose’s skull for a good SNAP for impact. It's solid — without the squish you feel when you break a softer part of the face like a jaw, cheek or nose. More unforgiving like a bad ex. But so fucking good.

She landed in a crouch, hand out front and on her toes. She stood up and looked back. A squint judged them as wide open and proper. Now it's time for a party. First, she bladed her stance to point her shoulder at Rose, then shuffled in and thrust her boot high at their head —

. Right at the chin.

If that worked, Spectre’s foot would pull back, stomp down, pivot the ankle and immediately twist her body clockwise into a

to hammer their belly. A one-two kick combo setup in hopes to hunch them over, where Spectre could grab them by the hair, stuff them between her lithe legs, grab the hem of Rose's leotard, pull up and drop—

.

[Sigma Morgan]

Spectre hit hard... and incredibly fast, overwhelming Rose right from the start and now the pink haired woman was stunned in the corner, her grip on the top ropes being one of the only reason's she was even still standing and Spectre was far from done with her. As Rose finally looked up at the woman she was met with her opponent's boot hitting her chin causing her head to snap back violently as her back pressed as closely to the turnbuckle as possible setting her up perfectly for her opponent's follow up kick, with no space to move Rose's stomach was forced to take the full brunt of her opponent's spinning heel kick causing saliva to spit out of her mouth with force like her opponent's kick as the woman bent over her opponent's foot.

Rose couldn't remember if she had ever taken this harsh of a beating so early in a match before but past history didn't matter much at the moment with Spectre wasting no time grabbing her hair, sticking her head between her thighs and then spking Rose head first onto the mat completely unopposed with a snap DDT!

[Monsy]

Immediately after the snap piledriver, Spectre had options. She can try her hand at a simple pinfall to end her night early. Or, she can make sure the one attempt she does do is with certainty. And having mulled it over, quickly, as she sat and tossed Rose off to the side, she decided to go with the second option. So she rolled back onto her shoulders, pulled up her knees, folded her hands back to press down, then performed a kip-up. Easier than rolling out of bed.

She looked at the corner with determination, then peered over-shoulder at Rose. Her positioning was ideal for what came next, so Spectre stepped between the middle and bottom rope, weaved herself out then stood on the apron. She grabbed the top rope, two hands, leaned back and sling-shotted herself up to springboard off the top rope, over to the adjacent ropes with her legs out. Both legs whipped into a back-flip like motion, coming down knees first onto Rose’s belly and chest—

!

[Sigma Morgan]

Rose was sprawled out on the canvas, a pain in her head and a fog in her mind. Her body was nearly motionless outside of the slight rising and falling of her chest with each breath. Her opponent on the other hand wasted no time getting back, performing a kip up back to her feet, making it look incredibly easy as she did. Rose began to stir but her opponent was quicker to go on the offensive yet again, as Rose opened her eyes her opponent was slingshotting herself up and over the top rope and there was nothing Rose could do but was as the woman came down knee's first on her abdomen driving the air from her lungs causing her to go into a coughing fit as she craddled her midsection and rolled onto her side.

[Monsy]

Once the Remote Execution landed, Spectre went back to her knees. She was on Rose’s back-side. Her hands postured on her thighs while she sat on her calves, toes pointed down. And watched. Spectre judged them, tilted her head slowly from side to side to gauge their pain and how long it took for them to settle down to any noticeable degree. She loved this science. Seeing how humans squirm on the floor, begging for her boot.

After a time, Spectre reached and grabbed Rose's long ponytail, fitting it into her small fist. She stood up, gave them a little kick to the spine and commanded. “On your hands and knees.” Then stomped the back of their head. “On it.”

And if Rose obeyed, Spectre would squat beside their head, find a camera at ringside pointed straight at their faces, then hold Rose’s jaw to make them look at the lens. She ordered again. “Now crawl. For the ropes. Look directly into the camera.”

[Sigma Morgan]

Rose wasn't doing much outside of occasionally squirming and sighing in pain wondering why her opponent wasn't attacking her though before she could get up and figure it out Spectre forced the issue grabbing her by the pony tail, Rose's hands reached back trying to wrestle her hair away and relieve the pressure on her scalp but before she knew if her opponent's boot colliding with her back as the woman kicked her causing a pained cry to escape Rose's mouth as she rolled onto her stomach though didn't move until a stomp connected with her head causing another pained cry to escape her mouth and her head to go a bit fuzzy as she forced herself up onto her hands and knee's only weakly struggling as Spectre grabbed her head and forced her to look into the camera in a humiliating display. Desperate to get some space between herself and the woman Rose crawled for the ropes still slightly dazed before grabbing the second rope and forcing herself up to her knees weakly.