Aisha vs. Abattoir - Two Days Notice

For a second, as she looked up, the entire arena was burning. Her skin peeled, blistering from the heat, as the masses were engulfed in cleansing flames--

It's not real. None of it's real.

Her head jerked back a moment later, though, and the baton against her throat was all too real. Abattoir thrashed, trying to turn from side to side and get some air while the point of Aisha's knee drove unmercifully into her already-aching back. She reached up, fully intending to jam a thumb in the Dancing Sistah's eye, but the height difference was just enough that all she could really do was claw wildly at her chin and neck (and considering her gloves, it wasn't like she could scratch).

Her head was still spinning from the impact, and it'd already been light considering the steady dribble of blood from her scalp. It'd take some serious effort to get back in the game, and being choked wasn't going to do her any good along those lines.

The audience sounded confused, as if they didn't know whether to cheer or boo what was happening. They saw things in black and white - Aisha was a good guy, Abattoir was a bad guy, and good guys didn't choke bad guys out with nightsticks.

Well, Aisha's world was a wee bit more colorful than that. She liked the fans. Loved them. But she liked winning, too. The only thing she liked more than winning was winning in grand style, after what Abattoir had done, she certainly deserved nothing but the finest end possible.

"Come here." Aisha suddenly, 'mercifully', let go of the choke, but that hardly meant she was going easy on Abattoir. She grabbed the nak muay's hair tight and forced her to stand up, yanking her up with the vicious handhold. She gave her a quick elbow in the side of her face along the way, just to keep her pacified for the time being.

Aisha had probably made the wise choice with regards to her image - it was every woman for herself in that ring. Abattoir would definitely be doing the same thing to her if their positions had been reversed.

The nak muay felt herself being pulled along and was in the middle of resisting when an elbow to the temple dazed her. She got an arm up to block it instinctively, but did so almost a full three or four seconds too late, and took the full impact anyway. For the moment, Abattoir focused on breathing deeply, getting her stamina back. She'd probably need it in just a minute, considering 'evil intentions' was basically the theme of these matches.

Aisha already knew what was going to happen after this match. Firstly, she was going to get checked out by the doctor and maybe get an X-ray. Something was broken back there, and it wasn't going to get any less broken anytime soon. Right after that, she was going to go home, run some water in her big bathtub, mix in some salts, light a few fragrant candles and just soak for a straight hour. After tonight, she both needed and deserved it.

Until then, though, she had to deal with Abattoir, but from the looks of things, that wouldn't take too much more time. They were both running on empty, but Aisha still had some fumes to go on. The nak muay seemed to be sputtering.

When Abattoir was standing up enough for it to work, Aisha took her by the hand and jerked back, sending her into the corner with a Irish Whip, putting as much force and weight into it as she could muster with her failing body.

Oh yeah, everything hurt. The ring felt like it was still shifting under her as they moved to one side, the world spinning in all kinds of unpleasant, nauseating directions. She was starting to steadily get her second wind, at least, and the lactic acid in her muscles had begun dying down to a manageable minimum, so as Aisha whipped her towards the corner, things were kinda sorta starting to look up.

Not in the short term, mind you, because she crashed headlong into the corner, knocking the wind out of her. The nak muay slumped down against the turnbuckles, half-seated and half-kneeling, and glanced around to see if she could even the odds a bit before the inevitable follow-up. Most of the stuff was across the ring...

Aha. Her eyes landed on a blackjack next to her. Primitive, but it'd do.

As Aisha approached, Abattoir stretched a leg out, catching the weapon with a heel and dragging it closer and closer to her hand. It left her defenseless for the moment, but in the long term, perhaps...

Run.

That was first and foremost thought on Aisha's mind the second she let go of Abattoir and slammed her into the turnbuckle. She knew exactly how to proceed from this point, she just needed to wind things up a little, first.

Aisha moved back and pushed the table out of the way as she made some space, taking a moment - a scant moment - to clear the area. She made her way to the center of the ring, and at that point she was satisfied. She was a natural-born sprinter, and this would be more than enough room to reach full speed with.

Aisha gritted her teeth, ducked down, and comitted her everything into a kamikaze run, barreling towards Abattoir with quick, powerful strides. As soon as she was in range, she leapt forward and shot her knee out, with the ill-intention of smashing Abattoir's face and ramming the back of her skull into the turnbuckle.

It occurred to her, at the last second, that she was probably going to hurt herself a little, too, thanks to the mask. If this worked, though, it was the smallest price to pay.

Abattoir's hand closed around the blackjack's handle, and an acid slick of satisfaction settled on her heart, followed promptly by a feeling of impending doom as she saw Aisha charging knee-first at her from across the ring. "--aw, this is gonna suck--"

She turned her head to the side and took most of the hit on the mask, which had...mixed results, to say the least. It absorbed a bit of the damage, sure, and it probably wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world to knee, but all the discomfort in Aisha's leg was mirrored in Abattoir's face, so...y'know. You win some, you lose some.

This was cold comfort, of course. Abattoir grabbed around Aisha's calf, death-gripping it close to her chest and collarbone, and then set to work heaving the blackjack at her thigh and the side of her knee, trying very hard to discourage her from this course of action.

There were few things that could put a smile on Aisha’s face like the look on an opponent’s face as realized that, yeah, her day was about to royally fucked up. Even though her body was an utter wreck, even though every step she took hurt, there was a wide smile on her face as strode towards her target and the end of the match.

It lasted all of two seconds.

”What-” She missed her attack and crashed into the pads, but that wasn’t a big deal. She could just back up and knee Abattoir in the face. The only thing standing in the way of that was the stinging, searing pain in her legs. She didn’t know the nak muay did, and she didn’t much care. It hurt and it had on her back, grasping her leg while she howled and hollered. That was all that really mattered.

”Fucking bitch!” She turned over to her chest and buried her face into the mat, trying to block out the burning sensation in her bones. ”Fucking hate you!”

Having just been kneed in the mouth, Abattoir was grateful to get some space as her opponent stumbled and fell away from her. She tossed the blackjack to one side, grabbed the top rope with both hands, and bounded herself back up to her feet like Nosferatu rising from his coffin. A couple quick steps caught her up to Aisha, who was face down and deeply regretting her decision to let either leg within a five-block radius of the nak muay. Everything hurt, and the world seemed to have stopped existing outside the ring at some point, but concussions and intense physical pain were par for the course. Nothing to get worked up over.

The official declaration of hatred was always satisfying, at least. "Good." She snagged the back of Aisha's belt, hoisting her upright. "It'll make you stronger."

With that, she hit the ropes and spun into the Nail, aiming the elbow strike right for the back of her opponent's neck.

Aisha couldn’t be 100% sure, but she was fairly certain she had what most would call an ‘out of body’ experience.

It was like there was a pain overload, and the only way her mind could cope with it was by putting her at a distance. She saw Abattoir approaching her from behind, pulling her up to a kneeling position. She was sagging backwards, and it looked like she might flopped forward if so much as a gentle breeze rolled in, but it didn’t matter - Abattoir wasn’t going to give her the time to fall. She saw the nak muay coming towards her from behind, and she knew that, whatever was about to happen, it would be the last move of the match.

Then the elbow connected, Aisha was dragged back into her body, and she wound up flat on her back while some woman in the audience screamed bloody murder.

To be fair, while Aisha wasn’t dead, you’d be hard pressed to tell from the cheap seats. She was flat, her head was turned to the side with a blank look in her eyes, and the only movement was an occasional twitch and the sporadic rising and falling of her chest.

She was done. Totally done.