SS 15 Entropy Title Match: Gwendolyn DuPont Bettencourt(C) Vs. Julia Rogers

Despite Julia's clever countering of her offensive strategy early on by grappling her to the mat in the stifling headlock, but Gwendolyn knew better than to abandon an entire game plan simply because the cowgirl succeeded with one lucky takedown. With the stringent stipulations of the lucha libre style match-up barring even the slightest hint of illegal maneuvers, Gwendolyn found herself inwardly struggling to keep her tactics as above board as possible, fighting the basic instincts she had relied on up until this point. So the sight of Julia struggling to breath was an opportune moment to strike she knew she couldn't let slip by.

The echoing thud of Gwen's boot smacking Julia back down to the canvas earned a wincing moan from the audience which cut short their respectful round of applause on impact. The blindsiding kick almost tarnishing the good-will earned from their earlier grappling sensation, Gwendolyn nevertheless took pride in her work and slyly strutted around the languishing cowgirl before stepping over her and seating her rump on Julia's lower back. She took the time to yank the cowgirls hands away from soothing her head pains and secured her arms behind Gwendolyns knees. With her bent legs extended widely to the side and her entwined fingers underneath Julia's chin, the heiress would gleefully rear back on the camel clutch.

"Sooo~...Do tell, who's the rather vulgar young man in the audience I caught you peeping a gander towards earlier? He could almost be mistaken for handsome in the right light~..." Gwendolyn snidely taunted as she leaned back until Julia could feel Gwen's sumptuous chest pressed against the back of Julia's head. After rearing back in the hold for a few seconds the heiress would scooch forward until her entire body weight centered on Julia's upper torso. The cowgirl may have slightly more mobility as a result but the strain on her rib cage and neck would be tortuously exemplified as opposed to a more fundamental camel clutch.

On paper, putting such heavy restrictions against tactics someone like Gwen would typically employ gave Julia a big advantage in tonight’s Entropy Championship bout. But to the cowgirl’s surprise and misfortune, it seemed the heiress had more genuine wrestling talent in her than she’d expected. Perhaps it had been naive of Julia to think that way, and as a result she now found herself dazed and prone on the mat after taking a brutal axe kick to the skull.

A low groan escaped the challenger’s lips as she started to slowly push herself up off the ground while Gwen proceeded to strut around her. However Julia’s progress was quickly halted as the heiress suddenly dropped down and took a seat right on her back, eliciting a grunt from her while dropping her body right back down to the mat. And before Julia could react in any sort of defense, her arms were pulled over Gwendolyn’s legs and the camel clutch was locked in nice and tight. “Aaaaggghhh!!” Julia cried out, her boots kicking against the mat as her back was painfully bent in her insidious foe’s clutches.

She then snarled as she heard Gwen’s comment about Drake, only to then scream out in agony once again while the heiress pulled Julia back even further to the point that she felt the champ’s breasts against the back of her golden head. “He’s way better...than any man you’ll ever have...” Julia finally managed to reply, grunting the words out through the pain surging through her back. But it only worsened from there, as Gwen then inched forward to bear down on the cowgirl’s upper back. Agonized cries flowed from her lips, and she merely shook her head when the ref asked her if she wanted to submit. A part of her knew it might be wise to do so, because it would conserve energy for the later rounds. But submitting to someone like Gwen, especially this early, and in Julia’s match of choice, doing so would’ve been humiliating.

Bringing her knees up under her, the luchadora would then attempt to push off the ground with a foot to move her and gwen toward the ropes. One step after another she’d repeat this process, fighting through the agony every inch of the way. If she could get close enough, Julia would then try to pull an arm off of Gwen’s leg and reach out to grab the nearest rope, hoping to free herself from this torturous hold.

"Hmm~...an enticing prospect, a shame he has such poor standards. However, I'm afraid you have your roles reversed. Whoever he is should be so lucky to even be considered as the recipient of my affections..." Gwen snidely taunted as she maintained her tightened grip underneath the cowgirl's chin. Though not in any conceivable way truthful with her interest in the mystery fan, the temptation to further taunt and sew seeds of doubt in Julia's mind to throw her off her game was simply too inviting to pass up.

Gwendolyns lithe legs would be extended wide to her sides to help center herself, gleefully leaning back and applying more pressure as the cowgirl currently found little recourse other than to writhe and mewl pathetically beneath her. The smug aristocrat even took the time to delicately brush back Julia's frizzy golden locks from her agonized face as if she were prepping Julia for a new hairdo before reapplying the hold under her chin, all so the cameras and her boy toy in the front row could get an unobstructed view of the torment Julia was in as she refused the ref's suggestion to give up.

"Tch!!" The sudden new found mobility of Julia would not go unnoticed, the heiress scoffing at the sudden forward momentum towards the ropes. A slow clap grew from the audience and became louder until she eventually reached her tethered salvation, the harrowing sight earning Julia more supporters than she entered the ring with. The referee would then immediately call for a break of the hold with no count given, only a threat of a disqualification due to the stringent laws of the lucha libre match. Frustrated but hardly deterred, Gwendolyn reluctantly pushed Julia off of her with a disrespectful shove to the mat. Rising up and stepping to Julia's side, Gwendolyn took the time to strut around the cowgirl's beaten frame, a teasing sway to her hips as she nonchalantly readjusted her skin tight outfit.

"Not quite the effortless victory you were imagining, huh?" Gwendolyn cheerily stated after taking the time to soak in the sight of the loud-mouthed cowgirl now hobbled in pain. Soon afterward she would bend low to grasp onto Julia's unkempt golden locks and escort her slowly to her feet.

"Come on!," shouts Drake from the audience. He can appreciate the view he's getting of his girlfriend, stretched out and tense - it can't be helped, she's hot and they're wrestlers. Certain things just do it for him. But in this particular situation, he'd prefer she be the one in control, putting her pompous opponent in her place!

As the blondes begin scooting along the mat, Drake isn't only shouting for Julia, he's slamming his hands against the guardrail before him. "Hang in there! Little more! Little! More!" And once the rope-break is demanded, he bursts into praise, tossing his fists into the air.

Naturally, Gwendolyn is making such a grand showing of her superior position. He glowers up at her and sets a hand against the corner of his mouth to shout, "Boo! You're about to get wrecked, you poser!"

Even while enduring the pain of Gwendolyn’s unforgiving hold, she managed to snarl and roll her eyes at the heiress’ taunting words in regards to Drake. She was going to have plenty of retaliation for the champ’s “affections,” as soon as she could get out of this damn hold! But hearing the building encouragement of the crowd, as well Drake’s cheering over all of them motivated the cowgirl to keep fighting with everything she had to get to the ropes. And after what felt like an eternity, her hand finally found it, forcing the break.

“Ugh!” she grunted as Gwen shoved her down to the mat. The first round was still alive and up for takings, but now there was a gap in momentum that would have to be closed if Julia wanted that strong start. Fortunately for her, the heiress took her sweet time strutting around, giving the luchadora some time to take a few, much needed deep breaths. Still holding onto the rope she then began to try pulling herself up, only to be “assisted” in her effort as Gwen’s hands grabbed onto her hair and began to pull her up. The ref was already about to come over to tell the defending champion to release Julia’s hair at the risk of a disqualification.

But right then, the challenger threw her right knee straight toward Gwendolyn’s stomach. “Hya!” If her strike connected, hopefully with enough force to send the champ stumbling back, it would also have a similar effect on Julia, who would take a tumble right through the middle and bottom rope. To most it might look like fatigue was getting the best of her and causing her to take a clumsy fall, but in reality it was a fully intentional maneuver to quickly get her onto the apron. From there she’d use the ropes to pull herself up as quickly as possible and, hopefully before her foe could ready herself for a defense, would then jump to the top rope and leap off of it, and sail right at Gwen in an attempt to blast her chest with a vicious missile dropkick!

Drake's color commentary would fall on deaf ears this time around, the heiress not allowing his boorish comments to distract her from her elegant thrashing of the cowgirl. On the contrary, knowing Julia's sweetheart was in the audience only compelled her further to make an even more grandiose spectacle of Julia's impending defeat.

Hoisting Julia back up to her feet by her frizzy blonde locks came with what appeared to be a stern reprimanding from the referee before Julia's knee plowed into Gwendolyn's gut with enough bludgeoning force to have Gwen shove Julia away. The winded heiress backpedaled several steps while cradling her battered breadbasket. Gasping and coughing for air, it was more-so the shock of being immediately robbed of the air in your lungs than the actual pain from the strike that kept the heiress stunned and hunched over with her golden curls dangling over her head.

"...*cough*...Tch, wretched cow-" Straightening her back with an angered glare in her eyes once she regulated her breathing, Gwendolyn looked up and gazed upon a tragically familiar sight. Julia perched upon the top ropes looking straight towards her with malicious intent. Frozen wide-eyed in place from the nostalgic imagery, it was one year ago at this exact event that Tatsuki Le Feuvre took that exact same positioning on the top ropes for her own high impact missile dropkick. In the split second Gwendolyn took to instinctively reminisce, Julia had already taken to the air in daring fashion with cameras flashing in response. Too taken aback by the bizarre coincidence to do anything more than raise one arm to defend herself, Gwendolyn only had one brief fleeting thought when Julia catapulted towards her...

*...nngh...not again...*

"OOOPH!!" With the impactful missile dropkick connecting square with her chest in spectacular fashion, the heiress would be knocked clear off her feet and be sent tumbling backward. Gwendolyn was sent rolling with the momentum like a ragdoll until she came to a fortuitous stop next to the bottom rope. Clutching the middle ropes with both hands to help get her back on her feet, Gwen struggled to recover from the heart-stopping aerial assault that had practically left bootprints stamped on her chest.

As she felt her feet slam right into Gwendolyn’s chest and blast the heiress across the ring, Julia gave the mat a hard smack with her hand and hopped back up to her feet as quickly as she could. “LETS GOOOO!!!” she let out with an adrenalized roar, her energy also winning her some more cheers from the crowd. She was feeling the mojo now, and was starting to find some good rhythm. If the cowgirl could just keep this up, there was no doubt in her mind this first round was as good as hers.

In the meantime, the defending champion was grabbing at the middle rope, seeking to use it as a crutch to help her get back to her feet. But beyond that, what Julia saw was even more significant: a chance to put Gwen away and secure the first round victory. The match was still fairly young, but the pompous heiress was likely still dazed from the dropkick. What she had in mind was no doubt risky, but with significant momentum for the match on the line, it was a risk worth taking. Especially for a daredevil like Julia.

First, the setup. Moving close behind Gwendolyn, Julia crouched a bit and rested her hands on her knees, while her eyes stalked the heiress’ every move. But she wouldn’t wait too long, only enough for her foe to make it up to a knee. From there, the cowgirl would quickly move in and wrap one arm around Gwen’s waist while the other moved down to hook under the girl’s leg, before attempting to hoist her up and drop her down onto the mat with a back suplex. Not the type of move Julia incorporated into her offense all too often. But if it worked, Julia would have Gwen at a perfect distance from the nearest corner, with her Stardust Press finishing move in mind for the very, very near future.

In a calculated gambit that paid off in dividends for the cowgirl, Julia had arrested control of the match back in her favor in as spectacular a fashion as any high-flying combatant could manage. The cowgirls bombastic war cry and the inherit eye catching nature of aerial techniques rallied a decent portion of the audience over to Julia's cause, though the majority remained steadfast in their nationalistic support of their curly haired representative with some hearty boos as well. As if the stinging pain in her caved in chest wasn't enough incentive, the spinning dizziness from being sent tumbling back made 'immediate retreat' the most viable option for Gwendolyn at that point.

While she gradually climbed up the ropes with one hand over aching chest, Gwendolyn groaned at the ludicrousness of being subjected to the exact, same, blasted maneuver twice now at Summer Splash. As if the universe were playing some manner of cruel joke on the poor heiress. While Gwendolyn was bemoaning her fate as she clambered up the bottom then middle rope, she paid no mind to the coiled snake tracking her every action from behind. Blissfully unaware until she got to one knee and immediately felt the securing lock around her waist and the firm grasp of her hamstring, the heiress gasped and clung to the middle ropes to save herself, but with only one hand on it the dainty aristocrat was nevertheless easily heaved off the mat.

"UNHAND ME!!!" Although not elevated in the air for too long in Julia's clutches, Gwendolyn had just enough time to dread the impending pain but not enough to mount a significant defense towards it or wriggle free. Reaching her hand out for nothing in particular to grasp on to with a wild, panicked look in her eyes, the briefly airborne heiress would yelp out before being slammed back first against the mat with her golden curls fluttering in the breeze. Arching her back after being planted to the unforgiving canvas, the shock and numbing pain of the rope shaking slam encompassed all of Gwen's thoughts. Eventually slumping over to lay on her front side with one massaging hand on her lumbar, the groaning heiress would settle in what could be defined as "prime real estate" for high flying wrestlers. Five to six feet from a corner ring post…

Julia held no illusions in her pretty blonde head of swaying each and every fan here to change their allegiance. From the moment Gwen had made her grand entrance tonight, it was clear the majority would be in favor of the hometown girl. But the cowgirl was pleased to hear as many people cheering after her missile dropkick as there were, even if it was more out of excitement for seeing a high flying move than specifically for Julia herself.

But even more encouraging than the crowd’s growing approval of her was the position she now had the heiress in. Julia’s suplex had gone off without a hitch, planting the defending champ right on the ground relatively close to the nearest corner. And there generally wasn’t a worse place in the ring to be when facing someone like Julia. And without wasting a single moment of her opening, the luchadora quickly got up and rushed right over to the corner, then began to climb up until she was on the top rope with her back facing Gwendolyn.

With one hand she held onto the ropes for support while momentarily glancing back to make sure her foe was still down. The Entropy Champion had rolled onto her front, but was still right at the perfect distance away, just where Julia wanted her to be. Taking a deep breath, Julia raised herself up to stand straight on the top rope while raising an index finger skyward, letting all in attendance know she was about to take flight one again. And with that, Julia leapt backward off the top rope and executed a corkscrew moonsault through the air, aiming to come crashing down right on top of Gwen with her finishing move, the Stardust Press!

When the heiress is planted flat on her back and Julia starts moving, Drake already knows what's coming. He's an exponent of the high-flying techniques, himself, and even has one for a finisher. It's just one of the things he and the red-clad blonde have in common, and one of the things that made him fall for her. He has only a second or two to reflect on that; one of the things that made him fall for her was her professional wrestling.

He really is wrapped up in the sport, isn't he?

Julia has ascended the ropes, and Drake's eyes have overtaken the greater real-estate of his face. Her finger shoots into the air, and he totally sees what's coming. The way she's turned, the signal to the audience, Gwendolyn's position... it's the perfect storm of anticipation. She's going for the Stardust Press. In fact, it's the move she used to finish him their match together. But it isn't perfect. Gwendolyn should be on her back, giving Julia access to her stomach for maximum damage.

The moment the blonde takes flight, it no longer matters. Drake's literally on the tips of his toes, ready to explode into jubilant cheer the second impact is made.