Chelsea Loski vs Candy Cane

Chelsea moved in, unable to do much besides hit and run, which meant this next move would need to pay off, running in she wrapped her legs around her foe and turned her body to try and roll her away.

Sadly her gamble didnt pay off like she would have hoped, Candy caught her and redirected her motion to instead simply fall on the back of her head into the mat. "Rrruggh!"

As Candy pushed up off the ropes again, seeing Chelsea crash to the mat – a hit she better not get up from – Candy finally took the time to pause just a second and nurse the blow to the gut she had taken a few seconds before, plus all her other bumps, before she stood straight again. General anger at the world still fueling her, the redhead got her hands on Chelsea this time, as she grabbed the other redhead by the head and barked down at her. ”Stop hittin’ me, ya idiot!”

The bite came a moment later; Candy shifted her grip on Chelsea’s head until she was behind the other girl, her arms securely snapping around her opponent in a simple, but stretched, headlock. If she was going to keep running around and dodging and striking like that, Candy was just going to stop her cold. She ignored the irony of her own hardheadedness as she did so, instead focusing on the lock.

It was offical, she had pissed her off, even more so then she usually was to. Chelsea wasnt sure if such a thing was so ething to be proud of or afraid of, at least at first once the girk grabbed her in her headlock and began pulling tightly it became clear which way she should be leaning towards.

"Ggghh..Aghhk!" Chelsea choked out as she tried to get free but he lacked the stenght to actually force her off her. Desperately she pulled her arm back and began driving her elbow into Candy's belly over and over again to force her to let go before she passed out.

Candy tried to find a nearby camera while she worked the headlock, almost wanting to spit out something about “is this what a soft girl does” to whoever was listening out there in the world but too focused on keeping Chelsea from just wriggling away again to do anything but get up onto her knees and sink in the hold as tightly as possible. …And run her mouth a little. ”You can shove your customs!”

As soon as she said it, an elbow collided almost directly with her rib, then another one with the center of her belly. Candy grimaced and growled and tried to move backwards, getting up and onto her feet while maintaining the hold, but the elbows kept hitting, even if they were weaker with the increased distance. And immediately, the redhead was done with it. ”Making…me…sick!” She cried out, shoving the girl forward and grabbing the now-definitely-bruised-damn-rib to nurse it and glower.

Chelsea was desperate and stubborn, and she imagined it was her stubborness that was really keeping her in this match and the main reason Candy was so frustrated. She wanted someone she could bowl over and be done with and instead found a challenge where she wanted none. Which meant the longer Chelsea hung in there the worse her attitude would get, not a pleasant thought...

Still once she was relesed she had a target, Candy was hurt in some capacity on her belly so that was where she would keep aiming rolling away to get to her feet after being thrown out of the lock and taking A Second to breathe she moved in and circeled around the girl, trying to come in and quickly thorw some jabs before backing up. "Getting a little soft down there I see."

Candy was really really really trying not to just take advantage of the whole fact that this was a no-DQs match. She would look like more of a badass to those jerkass journalists if she ripped Chelsea apart without needing to smack her upside the head with a guitar or choke her or do all those other things people did when they didn’t have to worry about a stuffy ref kicking them out of the match. But Candy’s patience was already as thin as her shirt, and Chelsea was poking holes in it… and in her gut, as Candy’s hand finally dropped from the rib that had taken the worst of the elbows.

”Grrrr…” was her only response to Chelsea’s taunting, and the redhead’s defense against the other redhead’s circling her was mostly glowering and, once Chelsea dodged in to hit her, slapping away at the other girl’s hands. She took a couple of stinging jabs, but out of pure will and irritation – mostly irritation – Candy didn’t stop long enough to nurse them and only gave enough ground to stop more jabs from hitting her. ”Stop. It!”, she demanded, tossing out her own wild right hook at Chelsea’s face, her whole body angled into the swing.

This was honestly probably the most daring thing Chelsea had ever attempted, it was one to pick a fight with an already angered woman, she should know she had been there enough times to tell. It was an entirely different thing to do so and constantly provoke the girl into getting worse, yet as she was literally dancing around danger here and knocking it back it was exactly what she was doing.

Candy had had enough and as she moved in she swung a wild right that she was putting a lot in, Chelsea ducked under the blow, her hands going through her hair as it went by and she could feel the power behind it, thanking everything there was to thank that that didn't hit. Instead she she moved in once again and drove her knee into her belly, nailing that same spot she got before that Candy seemed to be constantly tending too. With that she backed up and bounced off the ropes ready to come in and drive her knee there once again to really hurt the redhead.

Air. Candy's vicious swing cut through dead air. This idiot wasn't a woman; she was a stupid bug.

Candy staggered forward, having thrown herself off-balance. Her foot nearly turned over from a missed step, and the sound that escaped her throat as she regained her feet was more death growl than lead vocalist. Why the hell was this so hard for her? This had been her match back in the Roses; if they couldn't disqualify her, they couldn't stop her from doing whatever bad things she wanted to the other woman. Yeah, she was trying to fight this match cleaner, because she thought it proved something about her toughness. Maybe she shouldn't care so much about that. Yeah, that was the way to do this - she should be as bad a girl as she had always been, to hell with what everyone said. And to hell with this bitch trying to show her up.

This bad intent in mind, Chelsea swung around, glancing her guitar in the corner of the ring just before another blow - another knee - was driven between her ribs. "Gah!" She doubled over, eyes squinting shut and her hands shooting to the side of her abs to the pain that burned her side like fire. Her senses dulled for a brief second as Candy thought about nothing but the pain.

But her eyes shot open at the sound of the rattling of the mat, telling her that Chelsea was charging again.

The pissed-off redhead leaped in place as Chelsea reached her, in a sudden burst of athleticism, and swung her leg out directly into the other redhead's chest. Her boot connected, and Candy herself was thrown down squarely on her back with the force of the kick.

Chelsea had to have her on the ropes by now, just a few good shots and Candy would crumble and she could finish off the pieces from there. It was almost a reif since she figured she lucked out getting that ring to bruise so she had as an opening to capitalize on or this could have been much worse as she drove in for the kill.

Her chances came crashing down as Candy came up like she was never hurt, with more speed then she was even aware of her having as she brought her foot into her chest. "Guuuggh!" She moans as she flops to the floor wheezing and holding her chest. That kick hurt with just the force behind it, her running into it made it much worse and for a second she couldnt breathe.

The kick should have felt satisfying. But Candy's shoulders rattled hard enough against the mat that her teeth chattered. And that wasn't even the worst of her worries. One hand went to her aching rib and one to her head - the arena lights glaring into her eyes made it ache. She hissed at them, too.

Seconds passed before she got up onto her elbows, grimacing. Chelsea reeled on the mat at her feet; Candy half-expected the gnat to be up and running around again. If Chelsea was down, Candy couldn't waste her time grabbing at aching ribs. Growling, she pushed herself to her feet one limb at a time. Chelsea needed to be taken apart for her to stay down, and if Candy remembered anything from the old days, it was how to take another wrestler apart.

She glanced at her guitar. That was what she ought to do...

But stubbornness prevailed. She waa going to beat "Miss Culture" with strength and not a bunch of weapons. Candy stomped over to stand over Chelsea's head. Never one to think too much about her options, Candy again leaned down to take Chelsea by the head. And slammed it back down to the mat.