Envy vs. Vanessa York - A Match of Ice And Fire

Match Type: Standard
Victory Conditions: Victory by pinfall, Submission, or Knockout.



Vanessa York stood in the guerilla position of the Friction arena, while 10,000 plus sweaty, energized Japanese men and women waited just outside, mummering and waiting for the next match. She stood there, dressed in her slacks and her shirt and her tie and tight little gloves, bouncing from foot to foot. Her blood was racing her, her heart was thumping, and she was keenly aware of every little nerve on her body.

Nervousness. It had been a little while since she’d felt it.

When was the last time it was this bad? When she got married, probably. The idea of her being anywhere near a church was crazy enough by itself, but getting dressed and going through all the procedures in front of her whole family, all while wearing that hot-as-fucking-shit gown? That was too much. She thought she’d pass out halfway down the aisle.

Or was it when her daughter was born? Giving birth was...oh, God, that was a hard nine months. And then the actual ordeal itself, the struggle, the panic, and trying hard not to think of any of the childbirth statistics she’d been looking up online. She loved her daughter, dearly, but she couldn’t lie - she was happy that she wouldn’t have to go through that again anytime soon. Hanna would be an only child for a while.

No, no, she was sure of the last time, now. It was when her husband died and she got the phonecall, and the whole world crashed down on her. Not enough money for anything. No immediate plans on how to change it. Just a world of problems and not nearly enough solutions.

But she’d gotten through the first two problems, and she was dealing with the third now. Right now.

Her music started up, and one of the stagehands gave her the signal. It was time.

Vanessa came out bouncing to the tune with her hands raised high in the air, sliding along the top of the ramp while her fiery red hair whipped about. ”Get up! Come on!”

The crowd was a little tepid - always got that way with new faces - but enough of them were getting into the beat, bouncing along with her and feeling the mood. Even with a fresh wrestler, they could respect someone who came out with energy. Vanessa had plenty of that going on. Many of them couldn’t understand the words, but the general vibe came through: this was fight music.

”I’ll murder you and laugh, I’m Barry Sanders slashing through the path
You a magician’s assistant, I’m sawing you in half!

Vanessa made her way down the ramp, showing off her footwork along the way, twirling and whirling with ease, only taking quick pauses to slap hands before she continued on. She came down to the ring in a few seconds, then hopped up the steps, grabbed the ropes and hopped into the ring in a single bound.

Vanessa went into shadow-boxing mode the exact instant her sneakers touched the floor, , getting low and throwing out quick flashes as she maneuvered around the ring. Left jab, left jab, right hook, slide back, move in with an left uppercut, right straight, dip right, right hook, left hook, right hook, left hook, right hook, left hook…

”Woo!” Vanessa broke away, arched her back and screamed straight to the ceiling, feeling suitably pumped by her pre-match routine. More than a few AFW patrons screamed along with her, and she moonwalked her way back to her corner, properly prepared to throw down and dish out some pain. She just hoped they started her off with someone worthwhile. Would suck to get this hyped for a kawaii or some 100 pound weakling...

Noise. Poised to enter, Envy stood backstage, letting the roar of the crowd and the beat of her opponent’s music flow through her. She took a second to savour it – the momentous occasion that would be her entrance into the AFW. Okay, technically they were showcasing two new talents tonight, but really, all that noise in the arena right now was just the canvas that would enable Envy’s masterpiece. The poor fools just didn’t know it yet.

Not that she wasn’t taking this seriously – in fact, she knew all too well that first impressions were of deadly importance. However, this step up in her career had boosted her self-confidence to the point where she was certain that the bigger the stage, the brighter her star would shine.

When her Britpop theme tune played and she stepped out onto the entrance ramp, that logic seemed to pay out. She looked good, and the crowd responded accordingly. Her outfit was eye-catching enough, a blue thong two-piece with matching gloves, white boots, and accessorised with cut-out booty shorts and a smart tie collar and cuffs. Of course, the pale, athletic but curvy body that filled it more than helped to garner attention – along with her loosely tied platinum tresses and sparkling blue eyes. What really stood out, though, was her confidence – her purposeful stride had a playful sway of the hips, and her soft pink lips were curled up in a self-assured smirk. Her attitude accentuated her look, which fed into the crowd’s reaction, which boosted her confidence yet further, in a beautiful loop of positive feedback. All Envy had to do was ride it.

“Envy, envy, eeeenvyyy...”

Her eponymous entrance song blaring, the English wrestler clearly felt fantastic. Hopping up to the apron, she bent forward to duck under the top rope, just so happening to pick the corner by the cameraman, so her slow, hip-wiggling straddle of the middle rope made it right to the titantron. She gave the big screen a brief teasing twerk, before skipping into the ring.

Despite her playful demeanor, when she’d finished marking out her corner and performing some final stretches, she shot a sideways glance at Vanessa which was anything but girlish. Envy’s cold blue eyes belied a hard truth – someone was going to lose their opening match, and the blessed Brit was damned if it was going to be her.

Vanessa was still bouncing in her corner when the rap music stopped and an opening guitar riff replaced it. About as stark of a contrast as you could get without throwing in classical music, and she had the distinct feeling it wouldn’t be the last major difference of the evening.

That suspicion was proven true the second her opponent came strolling out. The way she came down the ramp was different - whereas Vanessa had gone for something high octane, Envy was playing it slower, moving down to the ring in proud steps. Vanessa had tried to get the crowd jumping, but Envy seemed to just draw energy from them, exuding natural confidence that the audience chewed up and spat back towards her.

Red versus blue.

Vanessa’s skinnier body versus Eve's voluptuous form.

And, of course, Vanessa’d gone for a more conservative look, while Envy was clearly showing off her many fine curves. Twerking, a little rope straddling, playing up the sex appeal. Hell, about the only thing they seemed to have in common was their shared love of wearing ties on their wrestling outfits.

Not that she judged the look or any of it. Just interesting little notes. She was glad they’d found her someone who at least had some style for her debut match.

Vanessa grabbed the ropes and leaned forward, getting in a little last minute stretching as she stared across the ring. She caught Envy’s frigid glance and sent a quick, fiery glint of anticipation back, a brief flash of a wild smile. They hadn’t spoken a word to each other, but they didn’t really need to. The story wrote itself - two women on their first match, trying to come away with a win and set the tone for success. Vanessa got it.

So, with that in mind, she came bolting out of her corner the second the bell rang, closing the distance on Envy with long, confident, swift strides. She tried to reach her foe before she could come out of the corner, but regardless of whether she made it out or not, Vanessa’s opening salvo would be the same - a slick, quick right cross, aimed directly at Envy’s haunting blue eyes!

Envy languidly stretched her limbs and was licking her lips, ready for the verbal salvo that started off so many matches, looking forward to a giving her rangy redheaded foe a thorough teasing.

No such luck. Her eyes widened as Vanessa came out of the corner fast and strong. Envy’s smirk disappeared in an instant, and instinct prompted her to bounce up on her white boots, hastily forced into a fighting stance. The shadow boxing of Vanessa’s opening should have been a clue, but this confirmed it – her fists were going to do the talking.

“Shit!” hissed the blue-clad girl as the big striker came in swinging. Luckily, Envy had been studious enough to get a heads-up on this, starting to circle out the corner and flinching right to –just- avoid the opening punch.

Rattled, she fired a kick up at Vanessa’s hip in return, not really looking to hit home, just creating cover so that she could backpedal away into the middle of the ring and avoid being cornered.

“Forgot you were Glaswegian. That’s how you savages say “hi” up there, isn’t it?” she snarled, belatedly drawing her forearms up into a defensive position to protect her head.

Some people talked before matches, had a little dialogue going on. Vanessa had watched enough AFW to know that was a common thing, and that it was almost customary.

Hence the reason she didn't do it. Element of a surprise and all that. She'd never been one for tradition, anyway.

In her defense, it almost worked, too. She just barely missed her target, and if Envy had been a touch slower, she might've scored the first shot of the match. Instead, she missed and got a little kick in the stomach for her troubles. Not enough to hurt much, but it did make her stumble back and give up space.

Still, she'd scared the shit out of Envy and put her larger opponent on the defense. That was worth something.

Envy’s comment made her smirk. A Brit? Right. Vanessa was getting a definite ‘snotty Englishwoman’ vibe from her opponent, and it served as just one more reason to give her skull a good thumping. It had been way too long since she knocked one of her types out.

”Nah, ya wee dobber.” Vanessa brought her pure Scottish accent out to play and moved into the danger zone, sliding her way back to Envy in a hot second. ”It's how we say ‘good night’!”

Vanessa started high, throwing a quick jab at Envy’s guard, only to duck low a split-second later and fire off the real attack: a right hook, coming around her opponent's arms and going for those tempting little ribs.

Taking up a fighting stance and standing toe-to-toe with Vanessa wasn’t high on Envy’s wishlist, but she’d hoped a few taunts might throw the redhead off guard. Unfortunately, Vanessa gave as good as she got, the rapid-fire retort not slowing her down at all. Yet again, though, it was mainly her foe’s fists doing the talking.

Envy’s nose wrinkled in frustration, but the blue-clad girl had to focus on fending off the high jab to her forearms, rather than trying to tease her opponent any further. Not a natural brawler, the feint caught her badly off-guard.

“UNGH!” Envy groaned as knuckles slammed into her bare, undefended midriff. It fucking hurt, her left arm instinctively dropping to cover her sore ribs, the hit causing her to stagger. Envy’s confident demeanour had soured somewhat as she realised the kind of problems Vanessa could cause. Not only was she being out-boxed, she was being out-insulted... and worst of all, Envy had a horrible feeling that the other girl was rocking the black tie look almost as well as she was.

It was slight, a brief flinch, but Vanessa grimaced when her punch connected with Envy’s midsection. There was muscle there, harder than she’d guessed at first glance. It served as a warning: her opponent was shorter, but clearly had both the strength advantage here. She was in control for now, but that could change. Fast.

She pushed the thought out of her mind for now and let the smirk return. It wouldn't matter if Envy was the strongest bitch in the league, not if she couldn't catch her and put it to good use.

”Nice arms you got there, lady.” Vanessa stepped back and ducked low, bobbing left and right, left, right, left, right. ”Use ‘em sometime, maybe?”

Vanessa bounced back in and rose up as she lashed out with her next strikes, dropping her defenses and going all in. She threw a right hook at Envy’s guard. ”Come on!” She juked to the other side and unleashed a left hook, going for the same target. ”Lemme see that face!”

The crowd was starting to give her a mixed reaction - some clearly wanted less boxing in their wrestling and wanted the sexy Envy to change the tides, but others were liking her fire. For her part, Vanessa was loving it.

Envy’s guard was broken for a second as she nursed her midsection, but she was quick to restore it.  The platinum-haired beauty knew she could not afford to take the full brunt of Vanessa’s powerful punch flurries. Still, that didn’t make it less galling to be stuck on the defensive.

She clenched her fists, scowling as she was buffeted under some painful blows to her raised arms, coupled with Vanessa’s playful taunts. “In... due... time...” she responded gruffly in between hits. Envy was far from a majestic sight right now, hunched up defensively, looking pretty cowed.

However after a few seconds, her strategy became clear. Stubbornly refusing to box Vanessa, Envy seemed to be staggering, but then suddenly barrelled forwards, her hunched pose transitioning to a lowered shoulder, simply charging at the redhead to try and tackle her by the waist. Face down, it was a blind and hopeful attempt by Envy, trying to force a grapple or even floor her opponent.

...Envy was going to hit her back at some point, wasn’t she?

Vanessa’s strategy revolved around her offense, sure, and she could’ve punched around the Brit all day without a problem, but that didn’t mean she wanted to. This was her first match in the AFW, on the big screen, the world stage. She wanted a good outing. One day her daughter would be watching this, after all.

Though, the day when Vanessa allowed her to watch the AFW content would be many days in the coming. When she turned 18, maybe. Maybe.

Fortunately - or unfortunately, depending on how she took it - Envy had some fight stored up, and she cashed it in with a sudden charge. Vanessa had been winding up for another right cross, but the blow whiffed off the white-haired woman’s shoulders at the last second, leaving her wide open to the tackle.

”Shitshit, fucking shite-”Vanessa fought to keep her balance, managed to stand for a couple of seconds as Envy forced her back, but the momentum got the better of her and she wound up toppling over near the corner, landing on her butt with her back against the turnbuckle and her opponent all over her front. Bad place to be.

The reckless charging body spear wasn’t Envy’s usual style, but when the status quo involved getting smacked around by a fiery Glaswegian, she was more than ready to roll the dice.  Her stomach lurched with doubt as she felt a blow against her lowered shoulder, and then the two wrestlers staggered awkwardly, Envy hugging Vanessa’s waist in a less-than-graceful stumble (though her bending over did at least flash some booty), before they both crashed down.

Luck favoured Envy, as she belatedly realised they were coming down alongside the turnbuckle. Her left hand grasped the rope to slow her fall, the rest of her momentum absorbed by Vanessa in a ring-shaking thump. The two women were tangled up together but Envy definitely had the initiative. With a thin smile, the blonde shaped to make the most of it, pulling herself upright with her left hand, whilst simultaneously grasping a fistful of red hair in her right. She surreptitiously used the hold to clang Vanessa’s head back against the turnbuckle, inflicting some subtle damage as she stood upright over the seated girl.

“Shite indeed.” Envy observed dryly. “Not so much of a wrestler, are we?” As she teased Vanessa, Envy grabbed the top rope and eased her right foot under the redhead’s chin, pressing her white boot into her opponent’s throat for a dominating foot choke. Illegal, yes, but more importantly, stylish, so she’d milk it for all it was worth while smiling pleasantly down at her victim.