L.A.W. - League of Anime Wrestling

Bea parked her motorcycle, the once rrevving engine now died down to a soft rumble as it stopped. She uncles the clasp under her chin as she slips off her sleek, raven purple helmet, breathing in that nice late rain night air. She shakes her mane, loosening her hair from its confined bundle as the neon lights glisten off her bike and face. If she didn’t know any better, she’d be assuming nothing out of the ordinary. The lines of old cart shops and the hustle and bustle of the main streets while she averts her gaze to an unassuming Pachinko parlor. The Brit swings her leg over the sleeping beauty as she grabs her gym bag from the side saddle, slipping it over her shoulder. She smiles as she begins to walk, her boots splashing from a small puddle from the hours previous rain. The sound of pachinko balls began to clink and clang as they drop, dinging against the metal pegs as they aim for the prize.

Stepping into the parlor, a few elders look her way, seemingly knowing what she’s there for but they say nothing only turning back to their games as a new round of pachinko begins. The biker squeezes by as her blue pools look over the machines, looking for some indication on where she’s supposed to be. ”Looking for something?” The question made her sharply turn as she was met with a burly faced woman, making the Brit step back in surprise. “Oh, uh… yeah, I am.” She replied, a bead of sweat forming in her brow ”Do you know a “Momma Tang”?” She asks a bit nervously. ”Who’s asking? If you’ve got business, tell ‘em to set an appointment like every body else’?” Beatrix couldn’t help but feel a bit of pressure, maybe it was the scent of cigarettes but it was hard to really focus here. “Well no, but.. well yes. I uh, right, I’m looking for…” she looks around before leaning slightly closer to whisper. “I’m here to see the pearls in the back.” She pulls away, worried she might’ve messed up the password before the burly woman nods. ”Just got a batch in. Let’s get you situated with a new “necklace”.” They replied, leading her further down the maze of machines until they came upon an old, rusted looking door.

With a slight push, the door gave as if there was no age at all; leading to a stairwell, going down by at least by Bea’s estimate, maybe two stories. Beatrix nods in thanks as she takes the first step down. ”When you get down there, knock four times, pause, then six times. That lets them know you’re here for a match. Knock em dead sweetheart.” Before the Brit could reply, the door was promptly slammed behind her. She stared for a moment before heading down, with nothing else better to do. Her steps clanged as steel tipped boots met steel steps but Bea didn’t rush. She was here a little early after all, perfect to getting changed and see the venue for all it’s worth. It took only a couple of minutes to walk down the long flight of stairs, stopping dead before a large black steel door. As instructed she first knocks four times, the sound of bone meeting metal ringing through the door as she pauses. Six more knocks ring the metal barrier, the Biker steps back, only for the door to swing wide and the sound of cheers blasted her in the face. The male guard watching the door ushers her in, with a guiding gesture with Bea quickly stepping inside. Neon lights with a string of paper lamps along the ceiling lit up the rather larger than appeared room. She noticed a bar although bit too far away for a quick drink, only for her gaze to meet a small stage near the front, probably for live bands or something like that, the Brit, didn’t put much thought into asking, not to mention full with a rather dense crowd and from what Bea could tell, a match coming to its dramatic close. Two woman of equal size were facing off, one in an orange leotard and the other in a white singlet. With the pair on the top rope, the white singlet wearing wrestler managed to wrap her arms around the orange attired rival in a suplex maneuver before sending her crashing down in a heap. The crowd immediately erupts with ”OHHHH’s” As the pair make impact with the mat. The white singlet folding the orange leotard clad wrestler before the count began: One! Two! Three!

With a slight touch to her arm, she’s snapped away as the crowd erupts over the white singlets victory. She botices the guide bow taking her by the arm, snaking the pair through the crowd as she brings her to the women’s changing room. ”Apologies for being so rough.” they began, the guides voice actually audible over the crowds roars. ”It was easier just to bring you then tell you and ending up lost but this is your changing room. Your locker will be kept safe with personal inside, there is no fighting in the locker room, and no funny business.” The Biker chuckled as she tucks a long strand of her raven hair behind her ear. ”Trouble? I haven’t a Scooby Doo what you mean by that “ She jokes, only to find her guide unamused. ”S-sorry, no funny business.” She stated. With a nod, the guide opens the door to the locker room for Bea to get dressed.
Beatrix slips on her biker crop top jacket, the zipper sliding over her covered bust as she checks herself over. Her bottoms were nice and snug, complimenting her physics as she clicked her black, shiny boots toes against the tile floor fixing any snatches by her heels. “Looks like I’m all set.” Before she takes a step, she breathes in suddenly smacking her cheeks as she zeros in her focus. A switch flips as she disassocaitaes herself from her sweet and kind self, now adorning herself with her heel like personality as she accepts her role as the rough and tough Biker Queen.

attire

Beatrix, now free of the confines of the locker room began to make her way through the crowd towards the ring. The Biker Queen of course paying them no mind as she noticed some space now between the ring and the crowd, heaps of what looked like garbage laid out in every corner, contained in a metal bin. She noticed two by fours, metal pipes, car and motorcycle mufflers, essentially the works. She breathed in, then out as she grabbed the bottom rope, pulling herself up as the venue didn’t keep a set of stairs to climb in. Pulling herself up onto the apron, the thoughts of what this match entailed began to flood her head. She wasn’t so much worried about the violence as it was the allowance of hentai tactics. Bea wasn’t sure what to make of it yet. In reality, the concept didn’t confuse her but putting it into practice? Maybe a bit of a different story. She shook her mind, clearing herself of doubt, no, she’s got this, she can just wing it!

With that thought now momentarily conquered, she turned back to the locker room while she backed up to the ropes, leaning against them for support as the crowd would part for her opponent tonight, who of which she knew nothing about.