L.A.W. - League of Anime Wrestling

Hardcore Prisoner of War Match
Win via Pinfall, Submission, or KO
No DQ
Stipulation: The loser will be taken as the winner's prize for the night


Kimmy would get ready in the locker room as she slid into her one piece. After putting it on, the young woman would reach back and hook the material covering her ass with her fingers. Pulling it outwards so it wouldn't be so wedged into her cheeks. The self described bitchweight was scheduled for a match against another guy tonight. She didn't mind, though. It was just another chance to kick a cocky bastard's ass. The problem was the PoW stipulations for it. While she was confident in herself to come out on top, the tomboy wasn't thrilled with the idea of being some punk's prisoner for the night. Smacking her cheeks with both hands, Kimmy would try to slap the negativity out of her and focus on winning. Now all dressed in her red one piece, black boots, and headband, the bitchweight would make her way out of the locker room and head for the ring to finally get things underway.

Kimmy Colton

As the lights dimmed and the Red Nation's theme music played, Kimmy would walk out from the entrance to a chorus of boos from the fans. They didn't like the brunette woman and sure as hell didn't like them as she flipped them all off as she made her way down the ramp. Upon reaching the ring, Kimmy would climb up the side before stepping through the ropes. As the fans continued to boo her the hot tempered woman would get pissed and curse them out. "Fuck off, losers! Bite me!" she'd bark at them before settling in her corner all annoyed. There Kimmy would wait for her opponent to show up so she could kick his ass in front of all these annoying pests.

Domino is not thrilled with this bout - namely in that it's hardcore. This is one of the bigger challenges in leading a dual life comprised of opposites; one industry demands physical perfection, the other industry demands unbridled savagery. Torn between two vocations; one always edges out simply due to the love of the sport, but it doesn't mean he's eager to get into the most injury-happy aspect of it. He doesn't even particularly like the idea of using foreign objects on an opponent. Feels... antithetical to what he's trying to accomplish.

And that is, be recognized as the best.

Moreover, this was another PoW bout. There are definite concerns with the prospect of losing such a match; he knows how he'd treat someone, but he can't know the heart of whoever's opposite him in the ring. He knows they'd be safe. But would he? The first moments of a match usually tell him a lot about the other person's character, but leading up to that? Purely nerve-wracking. The idea of taking a woman home is tempting for all the most obvious reasons, but he's maybe an odd duck in LAW. He needs chemistry. It's not lost on him that management has been throwing him into these a bit more lately, granted...

His opponent hits the arena and, wow. He can't remember the last time he wrestled a girl who'd gotten so much scorn straight out the gate. She must be pretty rotten, right? Probably hideous? Oh lord, is he going to have to take a complete Bowser home? That almost feels more like losing. Woof.

Domino listens to the music and crowd reaction with a drawn expression, amethyst eyes half-lidded. But then it all comes to an end, the music fades, and the audience quiets to a hush of anticipation. His music suddenly kicks on, filling the stadium with high-tension strings at first...

The Music

The vocals begin, and a quartet of spotlights all converge at the entrance stage just as Domino steps out into the open air, fist raised and radiant smile worn. Though wearing his black and white trunks, boots, and pads, his upper-body is covered with a gray t-shirt centered with an artistic stencil of his face in monochrome black and white. Atop, it reads: DOMINO. Beneath, it reads: EFFECT.

The audience's reaction to him is significantly more positive; he's built up a solid rapport with the fans, and each match is a step towards creating a legacy. He could do with more matches, more opportunities to prove himself, but great strides have already been taken. He stalls a moment to point out to either side of the aisle bordering the ramp, acknowledging the screaming fans on both sides, before thrusting his fist into the air again. On cue, twin bursts of stark white pyros fire off at either side of the stage, framing him.

Then he's off!

Striding down the ramp, Domino drifts from one side to the other to slap high-fives, dole out fistbumps, and give the occasional hug to the more expressively eager female fan. It always struck him as odd - the implication of a Prisoner of War match doesn't dull the female fans' enthusiasm at all. Shouldn't they be jealous? Sulky? Or is it more the idea of what could happen that gets them going?

..whatever!

He pushes the thought out of his mind as he continues to the ring apron, diverting to give a spirited trot up the metal steps. Seizing onto the top rope, he leans back to stretch the cable, and vaults himself smoothly up and over! Crossing the ring, he climbs the unattended far turnbuckle to stand upon the middle ropes. Facing out over the other half of the crowd, he reaches back to snag the collar of his shirt and pull it overhead before tossing it out into the screaming collective. Some lucky fan is going home with free merch! Free merch Domino wore! Cameras flash and sparkle through the sea of black surrounding the ring, immortalizing Domino's newly-bared physique - sleekly chiseled upper-body, not a trace of unnecessary bulk from biceps to pecs and abdominals. He pounds a fist over his chest twice before pointing out at the crowd.

Domino!

At last, Domino hops down from his perch with a spin, pacing back to his corner to let the referee-girl paw over him however she needs to. In the meantime, his gaze cuts across to Kimmy, finally getting his first look at her.

She's cute. That's a bonus.

She looks feisty, too.

Maybe this won't be so bad.

He flashes her a quick, boyish half-smile.

Kimmy would roll her eyes as she got a look at her opponent. All his theatrics didn’t do a thing but bore the hell out of the bitchweight. Drake really didn’t look too impressive to the woman. Of course she was pretty damned biased towards men as a whole. So her opinion wasn’t worth all that much. Regardless, while watching as the guy made his way into the ring, Kimmy was thinking about what the best way to beat him would be. Choking? Piledriver? Maybe a roll up? Then she saw him flash her a boyish smile. “Punt in the face…Got it.” Kimmy thought to herself as she got the urge to mess that pretty face of his up. She’d even flip her middle finger at him in response.

So, stepping out of her corner, Kimmy would make her way to the center of the ring to meet the man face to face. “Hope you don’t have any plans to sleep tonight…cause I got a couple of girls who’re gonna tear you apart back home…” the woman would say, threatening to hand him over to her sex crazed teammates. And knowing them, Drake might not survive that experience. Ready to start the match, Kimmy would raise her hands as she stared at her opponent. Waiting for the bell to ring so that she could rush the the dumb stud with a standard lock up to pit her muscles against his.

She has flipped him the bird.

Well.

Isn't that a fancy how-do-you-do.

Domino angles his pointer finger low, then uses the opposite hand to whisk his finger over that one. 'Nix, nix. Shame on you,' goes the gesture. He is absolutely taking the piss out of what has become abundantly clear to him is a bad attitude. It's fine. She's still cute. As long as he manages to come out on top tonight, things will be fine. He can take her.

She has an impressive body, but the physical edge is still on his side, he suspects. So as he approaches to meet her in the middle of the ring, he takes a moment to size her up; shorter than him, very physically toned, has awesome abs, and a pretty face. Probably prettier if she wasn't looking at him as if he were a shaggoth. But we'll work with what we can get.

Her threat is met with a genuine blink. But likely not for the reason she's expecting. "Uh." His right hand lifts, scratching at the side of his neck. She couldn't have meant it the way it came out, right? So far as he can tell, she either lives with a pack of feral hyenas like fucking Harley Quinn, or... "Don't threaten me with a good time."

The bell sounds off! DING!

She takes the initiative on him, rushing to meet for the lockup. Domino immediately receives, tying their arms together, seizing at her elbow and collar, skin slapping to skin. His stance deepens quickly to center his balance, her initiative earning her a few extra critical steps before his heels dug in. Afterwards, Domino meets her pound for pound, arching into the struggle. With his face close to hers, locking amethyst eyes to those browns, he begins pushing to try to position her to walk her back against the turnbuckle.

It seemed like Drake here had a talent for annoying Kimmy as she watched the man wag his finger at her. The woman's irritation growing as he told her not to threaten him with a good time. Clearly threats weren't going to work on a comedian like this guy. That wouldn't stop Kimmy from throwing them at him as well as making them come true. Once the bell rang out loudly, starting the match officially, Kimmy would move forward. Meeting her opponent head on as they locked up in an elbow collar tie up. Grunting as she struggled against him, the bitchweight would grit her teeth and glare at Drake. "Go ahead...kick joking...I'll be the one laughing...while I kick your ass all over this ring..." she'd snarl at Domino. Her muscles straining as she pressed back against the man in front of her.

Her boots digging into the ring as they struggled to overpower one another, Kimmy could feel herself slowly losing ground as she slid backwards. Growling in frustration, the woman knew that if she couldn't outright beat this guy with strength she'd have to use cunning. So, as she was forced closer and closer towards the corner, Kimmy would wait until the last moment before she was pushed against the turnbuckles to stomp down hard on Drake's foot. Looking to drive it down hard on the top of his boot and ankle, the bitchweight hoped to stun her opponent if just for a second from the sudden cheap shot. If she was successful, then the brunette woman would try to grab Drake by his hair and slam his face right into the top turnbuckle with a hard smack!

Face to face with her, Domino has a perfect view of her irritated expression. He isn't mirroring it back on her; just the resolved consternation of a competitor, determined to wear her down and claim the dominant position over her. Nearly chest to chest with the girl, each exhale mingling his breath with hers, amethyst eyes locked with those browns.

Each and every step taken is another swing of momentum in his favor. He's not in a rush. He can be patient. He just needs to walk her back into the corner to open her up and begin wearing her down. Her body is magnificent, but it's just a body - he can weaken it. Take out the core. Leave her defenseless to really finish her off. Just a few more steps, focus maintained.

He was ready to give her the credit of someone willing to fight it out head-to-head. Despite her attitude problem, she's a real competitor. It's respectable. But then, her the sudden weight of her boot comes crashing down over his.

"Agh!"

His balance shifts quickly, favoring the other foot. The forward pressure ceases, the hand at her elbow releases. There's nothing for him to do while she tangles her fingers in his hair and swings him forward against the turnbuckle pads. "Omph!"

He recoils from the hit and turns around unsteadily, settling his back against the padding in a daze.

Smirking as her cheap shot worked, Kimmy would use the opening to smash Drake’s face right into the turnbuckle. Even going so far as to grind his face against it before she’d flip them around. Keeping him back against the corner as she looked at him with an overly sadistic smile on her face. “No DQ, right?” the bitchweight would say, the eagerness to make her opponent hurt dripping from her tone as she would suddenly lift up her leg and press her boot against his throat. Digging it right into his jugular as she’d try to choke him out with it. “I guess I can do this as long as I want~” the cruel woman purred as she kept herself balanced with the help of the ropes to stay standing on one foot. After all, no DQ also meant no rope breaks. There ref wouldn’t be doing anything to stop her. At least not until he went and passed out or something.

Deciding to mock the so called Domino, Kimmy would even slap her one butt as she kept him pinned there. Letting him enjoy the sight only because she enjoyed watching him suffer more. Besides, it wasn’t like he could actually enjoy it since she was crushing his windpipe. The crowd obviously booed at this dirty tactic. Causing Kimmy to respond by flipping them off dismissively. Barely sparing them a thought as she kept her eyes on Drakey here.

“Mmm~ You like that, punk? You like my boot choking you out like you’re my widdle bitch?~” the bitchweight would snicker, mocking the man with baby talk as she kept pressing her boot on his throat. Seemingly having no plans to stop as she kept staring at him sadistically.

Unfortunately for Domino, Kimmy's right. And for him, that sucks. He's never really been the sort to bend or break rules willingly in a match to begin with. So this plays almost exclusively to Kimmy's advantage. It's all the more on display as she oh-so-gleefully plants her boot against Domino's throat, pressing in to begin choking.

His early response to it is, perhaps predictably, "Ghhkk-!" It's not eloquent. It's not even intelligible. But it's earnest.

His right arm hooks the top rope, his left hand gripping her at the ankle. The referee really can only just watch as this goes on, thanks to the match's stipulations. But Domino is thankfully made of tougher stuff than this; not to mention smarter. With teeth grit, he suddenly yanks the boot aside to hook her foot over the top rope at his side, clearing his air passages and - most importantly - presenting Kimmy's admittedly incredible body to him.

"You do a lott'a yapping."

Both hands lash forward to grab her around the neck, and he drops down to a seated position. The result? Kimmy's head would be yanked forward on a set collision course with the turnbuckle pad above him, awkwardly stretched with her leg in the air, unless she can stop the movement. How she recoils after the impact, however, is yet to be seen!

Kimmy would smirk down at Drake as he gagged from her boot pressing down on his throat. Nothing could stop her either since rope breaks weren’t exactly in the cards right now. She could keep choking the poor stud out until he turned purple if she wanted. Of course being the one getting choked, Drake didn’t care for that. The man would grab ahold of her ankle and try to force her boot away. Alleviating the pressure on his throat enough for him to breathe again. Of course this put a frown on Kinmy’s face. The bitchweight immediately trying to press down harder to put her boot back on his jugular. But this would backfire on the woman as Drake shoved her foot to the side. Causing her leg to shoot up and get stuck over the top rope. Gritting her teeth in frustration, the brunette was about to curse when the man grabbed her by the throat with both hands.

“A-Ack! Fuck…you!” She’d snarl at Drake when he said she yaps a lot. Her hands grabbing a hold of his wrists to try prying them off. However, Kimmy would suddenly find herself being dragged down by her opponent as he dropped down into a seated position. Causing her to be driven face first into the turnbuckles with a hard smack. The impact sending the brunette to flying backwards and crashing onto her back as she held her aching face. Growling out in pain and frustration, Kimmy would roll onto her side as her hate for this guy grew more and more.

Domino takes a few hard breaths to recollect himself now that the pressure's been alleviated from his neck. There's some anger now boiling just beneath the surface of his otherwise focused demeanor, a demand for payback against the immediate unnecessary attack. He can worry about how legal it was later, given the stipulations. But for now, it felt personal; bizarre, given they'd never met!

The people were clamoring for more violence. The people wanted to see the advantage pressed. They wanted to see Domino exact vengeance on the bitchy chick. He wouldn't deny them.

Knees gathered under himself, Domino reaches for Kimmy. Fingers weave through her medium-length hair, tangling near the roots at her scalp to seize a solid grip. He pulls to 'help' her along to her boots and turns with her, attempting to lead her to the ropes, midway between the corner posts. Pushing down on her head, he attempts to weave her upper-body between the middle and top ropes, positioning himself behind her. Her hair would then be released in favor of grabbing her arms and pulling them back to hook over the top ropes, securing her position. And finally, if all goes well, his hands link together beneath her chin to begin pulling, racking her body between the ropes and presenting her figure to the crowd, arched oh-so-perfectly.

"You're kind'a cute!," he calls over the roar of the audience. "Shame your personality sucks!"