Silver Ace vs. Abattoir

The fog wasn't clearing. Having spent most of her life being struck in the head in various capacities, Abattoir was pretty used to this kind of sensation; it'd clear up eventually, but for the moment, all she could really do was play defensive. As she felt herself being lifted to her feet, she threw a roundhouse, only for Ace to charge under it and drive her back-first into the side of the ring.

Besides the obvious shock of dull pain, the impact was huge! Ace's strength worked together with Abattoir's dazed state and propelled the nak muay up onto the ring apron. She grabbed onto a rope - situational awareness was starting to come back, that was good - and hung on, keeping herself from rolling back off as she thrashed in pain.

Despite all of this, there was a certain bitter joy in her heart. This was a hell of a fight.

While she wouldn't admit it, ramming the masked girl into the apron felt good. Abattoir reminded her of other girls she had face off against, girls like Jade Hawk and Jocelyn and Iron Maiden, all of whom took a kind of pleasure in what they did, joining wrestling just to beat people up. Fighting Abattoir felt like fighting one of them again, and it felt good dishing some damage out to her.

Ace rolled back under the ropes into the ring, then back under to go out again, resetting the ring out count once again. Standing on the apron, she pulled Abattoir up with her, setting her up for an attempted suplex onto the ring apron!

The pleasant, dull haze around the world began to lift as Abattoir recuperated on the ring apron, and by the time Ace climbed back out and hoisted her up to her feet, she was once again operating with a full deck of cards (so to speak).

With the cobwebs cleared, she snapped into action - getting suplexed on the apron was not a good idea at this point in the match, because despite Abattoir's tendency to keep going full speed until the point where she simply dropped, that point would eventually come, whether she wanted it to or not. The spirit was wiling, but the flesh, unfortunately, could only take so much. As the other girl pulled her upwards, Abattoir grabbed the top rope with her free hand, blocking the rest of the motion. Her hooked arm tightened around Ace's neck in a front facelock, and she reversed the momentum by swinging sharply backwards for a DDT on the apron!

The gasps of the crowd were a very appropriate soundtrack as Abattoir rolled under the bottom rope and back into the ring.

Ace barely had a moment to register the counter before her head was dropped onto the ring apron, the crowd gasping and wincing in unison.

Groaning, Ace lay on the ring apron, stars in her vision, nearly knocked flat out by the DDT.

Logic dictated that this was where she went for a pinfall.  Any normal, rational person would now pull Ace's limp form under the bottom rope, drag her to the center of the ring, and try to pin her for the three.

Being neither normal nor rational, Abattoir had other plans.  It was 'sink or swim' time.

Grasping the middle rope, she planted both boots in the other girl's side and pushed Ace off the ring apron, sending her clattering to the mats on the floor.  And then, rather than follow her down or continue the beating, she simply waited - pacing in the ring like a caged tiger, her eyes perpetually locked on her opponent over the mask.  The ref began the count.  "One!  Two!  Three!"  With every second that passed, Abattoir stormed back and forth with more vigor, whipped up into some kind of frenzy.  "Four!  Five!"  Something urgent flashed in her eyes as she watched the groggy Ace try to make her way back into the ring.

"Six!  Seven!"

"Come on!"  Her rasp was audible even over the pleas of the crowd - there was something rapturously tense in it, as if everything in the world depended right here and right now on Ace climbing back up.  "Get up!  You can do it, come on!"

For over half the count, Ace laid on the floor, seeing stars in her eyes after that brutal DDT.

It was when the count hit six that the fog started to lift and she realized just where she was and that she had to get back into the ring.

Gripping the ring apron, her fans in the crowd cheering her on, she pushed herself back up to her feet and, with one fast motion, rolled back into the ring at the count of nine, just barely beating the count. Head still throbbing, she lay on the mat, needing to get up all over again.

"Eight!"

The crowd swelled with excitement as the end of the count drew near. If Ace couldn't get in, that'd be all she wrote - and now Abattoir was pacing at the center, watching her restlessly to see if she could make it in or not. She was even more excited than the audience, anxious for her opponent to make it back in. Most people would've been content to take the victory, or if they weren't they would've simply thrown her back in, but whatever was going on in Abattoir's head was clearly quite different from the average person.

"Nine!"

There was a surge of relief all around as Ace managed to dizzily roll under the bottom rope. Abattoir grinned like a jackal under her mask, nodding enthusiastically. If she'd been the dramatic type she might've even applauded, but instead she stayed pacing for a moment, hyped up and burning off the excited energy, before moving in to finish Ace off.

Hoisting the other girl to her feet, she stepped back, squared up - "You did well." - then hit the ropes for the Nail, her rebound rolling elbow finisher. As always, the nak muay spun into it so fast her hair practically stood up.

Ace may still have been fuzzy, but she recognized what somebody bouncing off the ropes looked like, and experience taught her that the best thing to do in such a case was simple.

She ducked.

Just in time, Ace ducked, Abattoir's attempted elbow strike hitting nothing but air. Looking to try and take advantage and end this fast, Ace stood up and grabbed her opponents shoulders, turning her back around to face her before trying to grab her head, aiming to try and drop her down facefirst to the mat with an Ace Crusher!

One second she'd been headed for victory, the next she had nothing but air. Abattoir stumbled hard as she whiffed the Nail, disoriented for a moment and needing to get her balance back. It didn't happen, though - Ace spun her around and the next thing she knew, the other girl was leaping up for an Ace Crusher!

Abattoir had a split second at best to react, and rather than come up with a measured strategy, she went with instinct and brute force - with both hands on the other girl's shoulders, she shoved Ace forcibly off and sent her bouncing chest-first off the ropes. As she wavered backwards from the impact, Abattoir dove in behind her and grabbed a half-nelson. This was it: her greatest move. The Storm Cradle Driver. It'd be a win for sure if she could nail it.

Putting her hips into the move, she hoisted Ace up by the arm and waist...

Ace wasn't sure what move this girl was going for, with a half nelson applied and one arm left free, but she felt herself being lifted and acted quickly, catching her leg behind Abattoirs, keeping her from lifting her high enough to drop her, and swinging her free arm back, smashing her elbow into the side of her opponents head to break her grip, forced to drop Ace back to her feet.

Back standing, with her opponent dazed, Ace grabbed her head again and, without delay, dropped down with an Ace Crusher, driving Abattoir's face down hard onto the mat!