Emilia Hawthorne vs Blaise Cameron

Match type: Standard
Winning Conditions: Pinfall, Submission, Knockout

Emilia:

"Miss Emi? Are you nearly ready for your debut?"

A silver haired man in a black suit backed away as a red curtain was brushed aside, revealing a blonde haired girl in a white leotard and knee high boots with white tape around her hands and wrists. The leotard shone under the small glimmer of the dressing room light. The outfit was entirely new; the girl had insisted on several shopping trips before she finally found an outfit that felt suited her. And the poor silver haired man had been dragged to every single store that took her interest. She also smelled strongly of lavender, having showered a little while before.

"Of course I am ready, Henry." She spoke casually with a sweet smile. There was something foreboding about it that made Henry's throat turn dry just looking at it. He gave a rough cough and wordlessly extended his hand out, several pieces of paper and a photo included. Emi took the papers and began to read through them. A glint of interest appeared in her eyes, along with a small smirk.

"Blaise Cameron." Henry began. He had memorised all the notes to the smallest details. "Hails from America, weighs in at 158lbs and stands at 5'10. He is also your age, Miss."

"Mmm~" Emi began to tap the photo, which showed Blaise handstanding and displaying a very flexible body. Her finger ran down the body of the American before she handed the papers back to Henry. "Don't be so quick to get the tea ready, Henry."

Her servant blinked, surprised. "You...believe he will pose you a challenge?" The girl's response was a short sound of amusement.

"Oh, I'm certain he'll be easy enough to crush. But I also believe he'll be able to last a fair while against me." The girl began to strode towards her dressing room door, intending to head to her match. She turned her head to face her servant with a sinister look. "I have to make a grand display for my first match, after all. And he will do nicely~"

Henry gave a short bow. "Enjoy yourself, Miss Emi."

Her body was tense with excitement. She almost felt numb as she strode out towards the ring and down the entrance ramp, Tomorrow Is Mine bursting through the speakers. The skylights above poured down upon the girl as if she were an angel, causing her outfit to shine and gleam in a breathtaking manner. Even her hair seemed to sparkle under the lights. The audience too, was roaring and cheering, giving her a exhilarating sensation that fueled through her body. She felt she could leap to the ring from anywhere in the arena! But instead, she purposefully took her time, walking slowly towards the ring where the referee awaited her.

With a coy expression designed precisely to capture the hearts of the male spectators, Emi lifted her right hand into the air and waved almost lazily to the audience. She grasps hold of the bottom rope as she reaches the ring in a tender way, slowly pulling herself up and between the second and top rope as she entered the ring, striding into the center. As the audience continued to cheer, Emi began to strut slowly around the ring in a circular manner, once again waving in a relaxed manner. But this time, she brought her right hand to her face, and pressed her index and middle finger to her lips.

With a casual wink towards the audience, she blew a kiss to them with her two fingers, her arm extending far out to gesture to as many spectators as she could. One could practically hear the thumping hearts of the men in the arena, desperate to explode out of their chest. With a small hint of mischief in her eyes at the first of her many steps to make a lasting impression for her first match, Emi moved towards her corner, waiting for her opponent. The girl decided to fill the time by slightly adjusting her outfit with small twists of her body, just to give her new fanclub more of a glimpse of her.

Blaise:

In the opposite end end of the arena and behind the curtain, Blaise is dressed and ready to rumble. His attire is considerably less flashy than his feminine foe's, but the minimalist approach tends to be looked on more favorably with the female demographic - a fact not entirely lost on him. But he also just prefers his simple, nonrestrictive style to some elaborate getup any day! Give him his glossy sapphire blue boots and trunks, add on the stylized black trim, and he's G-to-the-G, baby!

True to habit, Blaise hasn't done any kind of research on this "Emi" girl. In fact, her entrance tune is the first impression he's getting on her. But if the Tension management proves predictable, he can at least expect his opponent to be cute - if even in the girl-next-door way. But most importantly, he has to expect her to be tough. He can't afford to go easy on her. She's a competitor, she signed up to get rough, and he's looking for his.. err.. very first win.

Like his opponent for the evening, the young grappler is filled with a tense energy. But whereas her's is reserved and controlled, his is nearly the opposite - explosive and wild. He bobs anxiously on the balls of his feet as he listens to the girl's choice in music. His hands flex and fingers curl, and he tosses in some last-minute, waist-twisting stretches to fill the time. He wants to get moving! He's so ready for this!

His name is announced. The chorus of Carry On My Wayward Son fills the arena. Time to shine.

'Finally!'

The curtains are thrown back, and with a leap, the audience is met with the exuberant presence of Blaise Cameron! The momentum carries into a one-legged spin, ending with a fist thrust into the air. Despite the raw energy and enthusiastic smile, the majority of the audience has yet to be impressed with him. They cheer, but the loudest support comes from those in the audience who feel they can relate to the underdog with an undying spirit; those who see him as 'one of them' due to his naturality. The young wrestler puts on no airs - he genuinely enjoys what he does and values the people he connects with along the way. And that, if nothing else, can plainly be seen as he trots to the ring with a series of high-fives.

Of course, he's never entered the ring the same way twice so far. This time, he hops up onto the ring apron and immediately vaults over the top rope. The acrobatic teen lands in a clean roll, the movement ending with him upright on his feet again. He turns to rush up the closest turnbuckle and hops onto the middle ropes, back arched and arms waving to pump up the crowd.

"Come on, people, make some noooiiise!"

The hype ushers in a new wave of cheer and whistles from the audience, which in turn earns a cheerful smile from Blaise. He drops back down from his perch with a bounce and finally moves into his corner to let the referee check him for weapons, powders, or any other nefarious paraphernalia. But really, where is he going to hide anything like that? At any rate, it gives him a chance to look across the ring at his opponent for first impressions.

He blinks.

'Wow.'

She looks way better than what he was prepared for. Bright blue eyes, shimmery blonde hair, the perfect outfit to show off her body and wrestle in... this chick could be a model. Wouldn't even surprise him. She looks fit, too. He reminds himself that she has to be tough, though. Pretty as she is, he can't afford to let that prevent him from taking the win tonight.

Still, he can't help but be nice; maybe even a touch flirty. His right hand lifts to greet her from his corner, accompanied with a boyish smile.

Emi watched with intrigue as her foe made his way to the arena, practically bouncing to the arena like a rabbit. She had read in the files Henry had assembled for her that her foe was well known for his brimming vigour and positive attitude. That was clear to her as he launched over the top rope and rolled smoothly into the ring. He seemed to have a natural way with the crowd too, pumping them up to roar and whistle in anticipation at the match.

As the referee begins checking over the male for weapons, Emi continues to twist her body and fidget in subtle manners, pulling out creases of her outfit to straighten it out. She spotted him gazing over her and caught the almost mesmerized look in his eyes. His boyish smile (was it the result of butterflies in the stomach or that energetic spirit?) was rather adorable, combined with the wave he gave her.

The girl's mind grew pleased at the thought of wiping it off his face. Which was quite handsome, along with a rather nice toned body. Trunks were certainly an eye-pleasing choice for him too. She had already seen him in the photo, but he looked even better in person. She almost shuddered at the thought of giving him a personal makeover. As the ref ceases and moves over to Emi, she raises her arms up into the air, interlocking her fingers and stretching to reveal cute, toned biceps which the ref padded their hand along to check for weapons. They did the same with the body, and the legs. Maintaining the stretching of her arms, Emi shifted her head over slightly to look over at Blaise, giving him a curious look.

And then, she winked directly at him, followed by a small giggle as the ref finished checking her over.

And Blaise is totally unaware of any of these sinister thoughts swirling in the blonde's head. The only thing that registers to him is the way she's playing her body, stretching herself out in the corner, making her feminine muscles pop. And that wink she sends his way only brightens his smile. She's so coquettish! He perks an eyebrow at her and tilts his head slightly to the side, making no effort to hide the fact that he's admiring her. He's not ignorant. He knows she's deliberately putting herself on display. So she should know that her efforts are definitely noticed; noticed and appreciated.

Blaise moves out of his corner with a confident stride, stopping only at the center of the ring. He rolls his shoulders back to give his frame one last, final limbering-up before he cants his head to the girl. Once the referee is out of the way, he points her out in her corner, then overturns the hand to beckon her with the same finger. The smile remains insistent on his face, but has adjusted into a more cocky look. Except his version of cocky has a somehow playful quality.

"C'mere, beautiful. Let's do this."

Emi looked pleased at the obvious fact that Blaise was admiring her. She was doing her best to captivate the male and it was working to a T. If he was this easy to charm and manipulate without the match having even started, then this was going to be a grand debut for the girl indeed.

She waited for Blaise to step into the middle of the ring, where he gestured for her to approach with a finger. Emi found it adorable; the way he was so eager to play with her. The dense idiot was so clearly enraptured, but at least he knew beauty when he saw it. The girl held her gloved hands behind her back and gave a small blush, suddenly looking slightly demure as she accepted his invitation and approached him.

"Beautiful, am I?" She spoke, sounding very flattered. "I don't have a problem with you calling me that throughout our match, but for clarity's sake, my name is Emilia Hawthorne." She gave a small smile. "But you can call me Emi. I've read...plenty of interesting things about you, Blaise Cameron."

[DING!]

The bell rang to signal the start of the match. Wordlessly, Emi held both of her arms up, perfectly poised, wordlessly telling Blaise that she wanted to begin the match with a shoulder and collar grapple lock up. Time to see if those muscles of her playmate were for show or not.

There aren't enough Admiral Akbars in the galaxy to warn Blaise of the impending danger. As it is, he's looking at the girl exactly the way she wants him to. She's demure, sexy, playing up her looks, clearly sporty, and given what she's just said to him, receptive to some casual flirting. This is going to be a fun match! And he looks forward to seeing what she's got so much!

"Have ya?," he asks, completely interested in the notion of someone taking the time to study up on him. It's flattering! She made it sound like she's looked into him more than the cursory evaluation a lot of people make on future opponents. He tries the name out, "Emi," and nods. "Cute name!"

The bell sounds off and the energetic teen assumes his stance in a single, sudden motion. Legs are widened, his body hunched forward slightly, and his hands lift to shoulder-height at the ready for her. Seeing her mirror his position, he immediately moves in to accept her challenge! His hands place at her shoulder and collar, the streamlined muscle of his biceps subtly rippling, his toned chest tensing. He comes in strong, plying his full strength against her and expecting nothing less in this contest, his ultimate goal being to ram the girl back into a turnbuckle and press in against her to trap her there.

In a false display of apprehension, Emi recoiled in a meek way as Blaise adopted his grapple stance, grabbing at her arms and shoulders. The intent was to give the impression she was slightly overwhelmed, and she even began to take a few gradual steps back towards the turnbuckle. Not all of it was pretend; Blaise had strength to be sure that she could feel coursing through those rippling muscles. But she was deliberately not applying full resistance. She had him already bewitched; now it was time to take advantage.

As Blaise pushed against her shoulders, she suddenly weakened her right side by dropping her right arm from the grapple. Her intent was that the sudden imbalance would catch her opponent off guard, as she aimed to clutch his right arm (his right at least) with both of her arms and yank him with a smile, throwing him towards the ropes. If she was successful, she'd run to the opposite side of the ring and bounce off the ropes as Blaise rebounded himself towards her, launching herself and her right arm at the boy with a flying lariat to his neck, in the hopes of sending him down to the canvas.

Blaise leans into the grapple, close enough that his warm breath mingles with hers, his chest nearly touching the curve of her breasts. Eye-to-eye with the girl, Blaise gives no sign of backing down. She's walked a step, then another towards the turnbuckle, and she's surprisingly pretty strong for a girl so lithe. He's not even holding back! But to be honest, he likes that. He may not be a brute, but he definitely appreciates a girl who can hold her own.

When her right side gives, Blaise staggers forward. He finds her whipping him into that momentum, and he stagger-stomps his way into the nearby ropes! Pivoting on heel at the last moment, he stretches the ropes against his back and springs forward again! This time, he has more grace and control over his steps, but there's too much momentum to stop himself. To his surprise, the girl is racing to meet him, and in short order, slams her arm across his collar and reverses all that motion into a backwards drop!

Blaise's body hits the mat hard. "Unf!" He lies there a moment, dazed, attempting to collect himself from the impact, and unfortunately leaving himself prone on his back for an opportunistic opponent.

The girl grinned smugly in satisfaction as Blaise flew towards her and her arm connected, enjoying the feeling of her arm slamming into his collar. She dropped to a knee and relished in the pleasant, brutal sound of her opponent falling to the canvas. Emi stared down at Blaise in a favourable (to her, but maybe him as well) position with a smile, admiring the stunned look on him, before she decided to perform a follow up.

Emi shifted towards Blaise's legs, grabbing ahold of his ankles with one gloved hand each, and with a small laugh, crossed his legs with the intent of forming a gap. She proceeded to step her right leg through the gap, lightly touching down upon the mat. "Seems you've got quite the flexible body from what I've seen." The girl said sweetly, but with a hint of danger to her tone. "That makes me happy, knowing I'll be able to wrench your body to my heart's desire~"

Suddenly, Emi sharply twisted her hands to force Blaise onto his stomach, and twisted herself as her arms wrapped around the shin sections of his legs. Kneeling down on her left leg, she began to lean back while her arms were locked around his legs tight, compressing his back in a painful sharpshooter.

Blaise is aware that his legs are being gathered. He knows they're being crossed. Heck, he's versed enough in the scholastic side of professional wrestling to know, even in his dazed state, what she's preparing. But by the time his legs are crossed, his squirming is coming in only too late. She can't be putting him into a submission hold this early! They're only just starting! Before he even thinks about it, protests begin escaping his lips.

"W-wait, don't-"

It's too late. He's twisted from his shoulder onto his chest, his body arched backwards with his lower half tangled in the air. It's true, he's quite flexible. But the pain of a submission hold can only be lessened with flexibility - not ignored, and this particular hold is a vicious one. It puts pressure and strain along his legs, forcing his thighs to flex beneath her, his spine starting to burn while his abs are put on tight display for the audience - and his captor, depending on how far she stretches him. "Aagh!"

The teen braces himself on his forearms and elbows, and he tries to start dragging her across the ring to the ropes.