Silver Ace vs. Abattoir

Standard rules, one fall.

They'd only asked unnecessary questions once when she'd returned.  A barrage of 'where have you been' and 'do you know what the penalties for breach of contract are' and 'are those self-harm scars, do you need to talk to somebody' and other tedious little nothings.  

"I was occupied," she'd answered.  "I got religion."

To AFW management's credit, once it became clear they weren't going to get a response beyond that, they'd given the bureaucratic equivalent of a shrug and set to work booking a match.  Go figure.  They were probably used to crazier things.  And so, once again, Abattoir's music hit the speakers and the lights dimmed in anticipation of another match.  There was a tiny 'returning wrestler' cheer and a distinctly louder scatter of 'oh, it's Abattoir' booing, but more prominent was a puzzled murmur from the crowd gathered at the arena.  She was wearing an entirely new set of entrance attire - a floor-length, sleeveless black jacket with a hood.  A leviathan cross was emblazoned in scarlet between her shoulder blades, and the sleeves were rimmed with sinister-looking runes.  It was appropriate theatrical, and looked almost like some kind of heavy metal cassock.

The mask, as always, remained.  Glossy matte-black, hiding her nose and mouth.  Inscrutable.

Abattoir slid between the ropes and moved to her corner, then let the jacket slide from her shoulders and tossed it over the top rope to the floor.  Under it, she was the same - a little telltale scarring on her arms here, hair up in a bun there, but still, fundamentally, the same.  Her eyes, in particular, held the same empty stare they always had.

She leaned back against the turnbuckle and waited - her opponent would be here soon, and then they could get started.  It didn't matter who they'd sent her, as long as she got a fight.  God, she hadn't had a proper fight in ages.  It felt like starvation.

Soon.

Abbatior's music faded out, the crowd waiting to see who her opponent would be, the lights dimming out in preparation.

Backstage, the other girl paced, making sure her hand tape was properly applied, trying to resist the urge to start hopping back and forth as she heard her new theme start to play, the fans recognizing the bass intro, and letting out a surprisingly loud cheer as they realized what it meant.

After not being seen since Summer Splash...Silver Ace had returned.

As the bass beat was joined by guitar and drums, spotlights shone upon the top of the entrance ramp as Ace walked into view, raising her arm triumphantly as she made her return to the Friction Arena. Clad in a white, long sleeved, knee length, duster jacket, Ace slowly made her way down the ramp, enjoying the positive reception the fans were giving her. Maybe it was the way she had beaten Amethyst at Summer Splash by throwing her off the scaffold, or her design to change her attire and start applying face paint to herself, tonight using the black and white variation of her design, or maybe after all this time she had finally earned their respect, but at last the Tokyo crowd was cheering for her, applauding her name.

Slapping the various hands that reached over the rails, moving in time to the music, the synth horns now blaring and adding a little makeshift orchestra quality into the sound, Silver Ace rolled under the ropes and entered the ring, the former Entropy Champion climbing a turnbuckle and spreading her arms out, as if she wanted to actually embrace her new-found fans, before stepping down.

Slipping out of the duster, tossing it out of the ring, the rest of Ace's outfit was revealed, from the taped arms, the white half shirt with the Double Triangle sign, and the white tights that clung to her legs, with the seemingly tron inspired line running down, black, to match her black and white face paint.

Spoiler:

Finally turning to face her opponent, a newish girl that Ace had never seen before, she offered her a smile and a head nod as she started doing some last second stretches.

"Hey there, call me Ace. You ready for this?"

Well, this was an interesting turn of events. The swell of affection from the crowd was obvious as Abattoir's opponent showed up on the stage - public opinion, as always, would be thoroughly against the nak muay. She settled for smoothing her skirt down and leaning back a little on the ropes as Ace approached the ring, staying unintrusive and letting the other girl have her moment in the spotlight. She wasn't familiar with this one, but the painted-up wrestler seemed athletic and full of energy, and she probably wouldn't be getting this kind of reaction if she wasn't a contender. Good. Good. A lesser fighter would be content to just crush jobbers left and right, but Abattoir was jonesing for a war every time she came out, and the adversity was very welcome indeed.

She watched Ace intently as the other girl warmed up, dark eyes staring intently over the respirator-like mask. As soon as her opponent stepped forward to introduce herself, Abattoir stalked up to meet her in the middle - she was a pretty monstrous person, all things considered, but she generally wasn't rude.

"I'm Abattoir." She returned the nod curtly. "Let's go."

With her typical laconic greeting out of the way, she stepped back and dropped into her usual muay thai stance. The bell rang, drawing an excited murmur from the crowd, and Abattoir set to work circling, watching Ace's movement, trying to get a feel for how the other girl navigated the ring. She took a step forward now and then - not quite a feint, maybe a feint of a feint, if that was even possible - to gauge her opponent's reaction, and then, just when they'd been circling long enough to make the crowd a little restless, she struck.

It wasn't the kind of attack one might've expected from her (leg kicks and a general feeling-out process). No, after Lucky Uchida had submitted her off a poorly-thrown elbow strike, Abattoir had been working intently on her grappling, trying to get at least somewhat up to par on the 'wrestling' part of pro wrestling. So it was that she surged forward, grabbing a collar and elbow, and then planted one foot back and shoved with her hips, trying to muscle Ace back into a corner. Maybe she could get some leverage early on and figure out what worked and what didn't - Ace was a mystery to her, after all, and it'd take a little experimenting to figure out what she was up against.

It took some time, but Abattoir finally stopped dancing around and started things off, the two nearly equal sized girls locking up, pushing against each other. Due to either just pushing harder than Ace expected, or the 15 pound weight difference between them, Ace found herself being pushed back a few steps, planting her feet on the mat and trying to stop the forward momentum.

Not wanting to stay locked up, Ace broke the tie up, swinging her arm up, trying to smack Abattoir in the chin with her forearm with a European Uppercut!

Momentum was on her side, at least for the moment. Abattoir threw her hips into it and shoved hard, driving Ace backwards bit by bit - but then the other girl managed to drop her weight and get planted, bringing their little skirmish to a halt. Well, without proper leverage, it looked like they were just about evenly matched when it came to strength. This would come down to skill.

The nak muay was in the middle of trying to abruptly reverse directions when Ace's forearm came up right through the middle of the clinch, catching her just under the mask with a hard uppercut. Abattoir staggered backwards, the tie-up thoroughly broken, and staggered a bit. For a moment, she was vulnerable.

Rather than follow up, as she probably should have, Ace kept her arms up, hopping back and forth on her feet, excited to be back in the ring, the facepainted girl waving Abattoir towards her, eager to start again.


"Not bad, you must be strong, now cmon, show me what ya got!"

Abattoir's hands were up in a fraction of a second, primed to absorb any incoming blows on her forearms. But none came, and after a moment, she took a step back and discovered Ace bouncing around in place, eager to keep going on even terms.

Nice.

One of the very few consistently admirable things about Abattoir was her fondness for throwing herself into a good fight. There was no fun in just slaughtering somebody - you never improve that way, after all. If this mysterious painted-up adversary of hers wanted to go full speed, well...she'd be very happy to oblige.

There was the brief flash of a grin on her face - the mask obviously blocked most of it, but it was obvious in her otherwise-dead eyes - and Abattoir rushed forward at Ace in the corner, looking to drill her with a yakuza kick. No more circling, no more tentative locking up. Clearly, some kind of fire had been lit under her.

"Woah!"

Ace yelped, once again getting surprised by her opponents non-standard move choice, getting her arms up in an attempted block, Abattoir's boot smashing into her arms and knocking the painted girl onto her back.

While she prevented the kick from hitting her face, it was still strong enough that she couldn't control her fall, smacking the back of her head on the mat, leaving her groaning and rubbing the back of her head.

"The hell did that come from!?"

She yelled, annoyed that she had been dropped this early.

The satisfying impact of her boot against Ace's arms was like music.  Abattoir had been out of the ring much too long, and now, with glorious combat looming on the horizon, she was like a ravenous wolf.

As her opponent sat up, rubbing the back of her head, the hint of a deranged grin lingered under the nak muay's mask.  "Keep up," she rasped - it was really less of a taunt and more of a command, in the interest of having a good fight.

Actually, maybe it had been more of a warning, because Abattoir hit the ropes a second later and charged towards the sitting Ace with a knee aimed straight at her head - the Bitter Feast.  It took a bit of setup, and it was very obvious what she intended to do - perhaps the move was meant as a test, to see if Ace could dodge out of the way in time.  No sense getting invested in a fight that'd be over quickly after all.

It only took a couple seconds for Ace to sit back up, eyes widening as she saw her opponent rushing straight for her, the silver haired girl barely able to roll to the side in time to avoid the knee that would have smashed into her face.

Rather than get back up, Ace stayed in a crouched position, quickly kicking one leg out and throwing her body around, trying to catch Abattoir's legs with a sweep as she passed by.