Beauty Contest. (OPEN)

One second Minerva was staring a hole through Natasha’s skull, the next she was being dumped right out of the ring. The now-enraged woman quickly picked herself up and turned her glare toward Karisma, then to Brittany, then Natasha, then repeated the cycle before finally settling on Natasha. “This is all your fault! If you think for one moment you won’t pay for this...” Not even bothering to finish her rather obvious point, Minerva glanced once more at Karisma, wanting little more than to charge the ring and tear that skank’s head right off with her bear hands... Perhaps the chance would come one day, but now wasn’t the time. Composing herself as much as she could, Minerva turned on her heel and stormed back up the ramp to make her exit.

The slap wasn't entirely unexpected, in truth she would have been surprised if the woman hadn't done something of the sort, but no one would ever say Natasha was the first to lose her cool. Before she could reply in kind Karisma came up behind Minerva and unceremoniously threw her right out of the ring. Natasha stepped to the ropes to glare down at the woman, a mistake as she quickly discovered for she turned around to find Brittany's foot buried in her stomach. She was soon sent on the same trip Minerva had and fell to the floor in a heap, the Frenchwoman scrambling back to her feet with her eyes flashing with a look of raw anger directed solely at the blonde.

Natasha turned and gave Minerva a dismissive glance, not giving the woman any more than that before she stormed off to the back. The frenchwoman returned her gaze to Brittany and smirked, recomposing herself despite her humiliation in the ring just now. "You think yourself a champion but all I see is a woman running from anyone who could take the belt from her. If you ever get bored being a champion in name only come find me." That said Natasha turned and made her way back up the entrance ramp, moving at a casual pace until she was through the curtains, only then making her way after where Minerva had gone.

Someone had been watching all of the goings on out in the arena with amusement from backstage. The conceit of the whole contest was quite ridiculous, and the string of contenders lining up for a chance to be considered for the match were quite the collection of characters. The fact that the champion shot them all down, one after another, sending each scurrying back from whence she had come was amusing, too. This was why Odessa had never been keen on responding to call-outs such as these. While she had seen them work out for some women, who went on to claim the title from the overconfident champion, it felt presumptuous to run out into the arena and loudly declare oneself worthy of a title belt.

Still, Odessa had nothing better to do right now, and it seemed she was one of only a few who were in that position, as now there was a long couple of minutes that passed without a new contender coming out to challenge this Brittany for the title. She figured that it could be a fun way to spend this night when all of her close friends were, unfortunately, too busy to go out to eat or to see a show. She would be interested in seeing how this Brittany reacted to someone of Odessa’s stature coming out in response to her challenge. If nothing else, Odessa could enjoy poking holes in this woman’s “beauty contest” and its dramatically skewed system of determining a suitable opponent.

Odessa didn’t come out to music or even walk down the ramp. That would be too ostentatious, too...desperate, perhaps. The way all of these girls begged for attention without ever saying as much was unbecoming. They were playing into this champion’s hands. Instead, Odessa, clad in her usual leotard, boots, and detached sleeves, would walk through one of the side entrances, past several rows of audience members whose eyes were still focused on the ring. She tossed her glimmering white hair back over her shoulder and pulled herself up onto the side of the ring apron, leaning over the top rope with her arms crossed underneath her chin. “This all seems awfully unfair, don’t you think? I feel bad for those poor girls,” she would comment.

Brittany was growing impatient as no one else was coming down to challenge her. Without a suitable challenger Brittany would have no choice but to have to find one of the unworthy to face her in the ring. However, that was all until she heard a voice from behind her. "Ah, another challenger appears. And who might you be?" Brittany asked as she looked Odessa up and down.

"Unfair? I was just speaking the truth about those girls. None of them could meet my standards. So i had to send them away." Brittany would say as she would motion for Odessa to join her in the ring. "Now what makes you think you are better than all the rest that have failed tonight?" Brittany said as she had to admit that upon closer inspection Odessa might just have what it takes to meet the beauty department.

Odessa wasn't stepping into the ring or officially identifying herself as a challenger just yet. She was out here to have fun, first and foremost, and so she was not going to fall into the same pattern that all those other women had rolled the dice with. She wanted to keep this champion on her toes, maybe make her a little bit uncomfortable. Odessa was going to make this Brittany chase her as a potential opponent, rather than the other way around. Odessa was not one to go throwing away her pride.

"You should know who I am. I'm out here in this ring often enough. I make it a point to be familiar with all of the more high-profile faces around this arena, including yours," Odessa would say, not bothering to identify herself if Brittany couldn't figure it out on her own. A little something to dig at the woman with—something for her to chase. "And there were quite a few perfectly beautiful women who were in this ring tonight. That pretty little blue-haired Natasha is already a champion, isn't she? And there were quite a few other stunners."

Odessa tossed her long white hair back over her shoulder, letting it fly and shimmer underneath the arena lights. "As for myself, I don't feel that's a question that really needs answering. My in-ring record speaks for itself. And unlike most women in this league—unlike some of your challengers, and unlike you, too, I do believe—I have professional experience being beautiful." The statement was cryptic, but Odessa could back it up if need be. The fashion world of London allowed only the most flawless women into the field, and during her late teen years, that had been her life.

Brittany was taken back by how Odessa was acting. All the other women tonight tried to prove themselves as well as trying to impress Brittany. Odessa however didn't seem to be doing either one of those things. Brittany would would shoot Odessa a glare as she said Brittany wasn't up to Odessa's beauty standards. "So you think you are more beautiful than me? That is a grand statement but do you think you can back it up?" Brittany said as she would not just stand there and take insults from Odessa.

"So, if you think you are so worthy. Why don't you step into the ring and test your luck. Maybe you can rise above where all the others have failed. But i should warn you, If you fail to meet my expectations. You will be leaving this ring in a very different way than you entered." Brittany said as she would not take her eyes off of Odessa.

Brittany was beautiful enough, but it was a perfectly amateur sort of beauty, not the sort of beauty which Odessa had seen on the London fashion scene, and not the sort of beauty that Odessa herself possessed. Odessa knew that the contrast between her dark skin and her pure white hair was dazzling. It was a rare sort of pairing of skin and hair, the result of quite the unlikely genetic circumstances, and it, along with her natural charm and athletic abilities, had made Odessa quite the hit with any crowd she had ever performed in front of.

"Well, I do believe I am backing it up right now," Odessa would say, as she leaned against the ropes and arched her back slightly. This allowed much of the audience to get a wonderful view of her body's curves, the gentle slope of her spine as she leaned in towards the ring, her ample posterior, and her long, toned, chocolate-colored legs. Her outfit—her classic leotard with detached sleeves, along with a pair of tall boots—accentuated her whole form perfectly. She raised a well-manicured white eyebrow at Brittany, letting the girl get a better look at Odessa's green eyes.

"It is a very strange thing to attach such a subjective requirement to these title match proceedings. You could easily dismiss every potential opponent for not meeting your arbitrary—perhaps random—standards of beauty. And, in fact, that is what you did before I arrived, isn't it?" Odessa would say, as she swung one leg through the ropes, straddling them briefly, before she swung the other leg through and stood up to her full height. She was slightly taller than Brittany, a statuesque Brittanic beauty. "Is that how you intend to retain the title? By never having to defend it? Tell me, what flaws do you find in me? I am curious to know if you have any objective facts to back up your subjective standard." Odessa put her hands on her hips and allowed Brittany to look her over.

Karisma had been watching Odessa while she exchanged with Brittany. Once the woman stepped through the ropes and was in the ring, the Indian Jewel slipped to the side of Odessa to make it perfectly clear that the woman was outnumbered. She looked over the Brit and nodded. "Certainly she is beautiful, even by my own stringent standards, she is not wanting. Although she does not reach our level of beauty, I cannot fault someone for not achieving the impossible."

Karisma smirked and inched closer to Odessa. "She also understands there is a way of doing this, she's certainly not like the others." Karisma also admitted. "She is a woman carved from marble like the classic Greek statues of old." She paused and her smirk widened. "It is exactly that reason why she can never touch us. Her greatest strength is her biggest flaw. Because she can never soar to the heavens and shine like a magnificent star. She is far too heavy. She'll always be stuck on the ground. Her beauty is impressive, but it is not blinding. I believe that you should show her the importance of this distinction." Karisma then turned and looked at Brittany and nodded.

Mercy had been watching quietly but decided to speak up before Brittany called on her like she was some student. "She's definitely beautiful." Mercy said, blushing softly. "But, you probably don't want that kind of opinion from me." She paused. "She's been in the hardcore scene and she's had a rivalry with Cecilia Northman. I don't know that she qualifies for a World Title shot." She looked at Brittany. "But, if she doesn't, then maybe you don't either..." She muttered that last part. Odessa and Brittany had similar careers, even though Odessa skipped the first part of Brittany's and never had a title to show for it, where as Brittany was the most decorated wrestler in the league.

Brittany watched and listened as her lover gave her opinion of Odessa. "Hmm, you are right in that she does have beauty. I guess she will have to do." Brittany said as he heard Mercy say what her accomplishments were. "So, it seems like you have the qualifications, well more qualifications than any other person who has stepped in the ring tonight. I guess i could show you just how true beauty wrestles in this league." Brittany said as she would step closer to Odessa.

"You pass, even though just barely. You may challenge me for my title."" Brittany would say as she stood in front of Odessa to see if the girl would accept her challenge.

It was only when Odessa had fully stepped foot inside the ring that the two women who were standing next to Brittany actually bothered to do anything. The first one to move, the cute Indian beauty Karisma, practically slid forward, slinking around Odessa and checking her out, not addressing the British woman directly, but speaking of her in a loud voice to the Friction champion and her other companion, who were both hanging back. This Karisma's speech became more and more contrived, eventually basing her determination that Odessa was not as beautiful as them on a very poorly-worded metaphor that she made up on the spot. Odessa smirked and shook her head ruefully. Her childhood literature tutors would have been mortified.

This Mercy, at least, seemed to be a little more realistic, a little more thoughtful than the obviously brash and outspoken Karisma. She spoke in a much softer voice, so that Odessa could not pick up every single word which she said, but Odessa got the full impression of what the woman had to say about her. Was she not deserving of a world title shot? She knew for a fact that less deserving women had had chances at claiming this title before her. A three-year veteran of AFW with a dozen victories under her belt, as well as a previous title match—albeit one that she had lost—all proved that Odessa was worthy of this title.

But, of course, she wasn't drawn here by the lure of a shiny title belt. She was a woman among all these bickering little girls, both more impressive physically and more mature, and she was here simply to stir things up. It was an in-joke between Odessa and the crowd, one in which these girls, and all the girls who had come out to challenge Brittany prior to this, were unknowingly the sources of much amusement. It was a joke that verged on the anthropological.

Brittany, at last, made up her mind, agreeing that Odessa just "barely" passed her inspection and could challenge her for this title. Of course, Brittany had little option than to approve of Odessa's candidacy. And Odessa was amused to hear her try to play down the fact that Odessa was all that they were looking for and more. As Brittany stepped closer, Odessa looked down at her from her slightly taller height and crossed her arms over her chest. "I suppose I don't have anything better to do. This should be fun," she would say, when Brittany offered her the title match. In truth, Odessa was much more passionate about earning herself a title belt of some nature than she was letting on. But she had a feeling that continuing to downplay the importance of the belt would make Brittany squirm a little.