[FWC] "Major" Millie Walker vs. Blossom Fields

Millie swayed as she stood, facing Blossom. She had been thinking of her next move since she had begun to push herself back up, but unfortunately for her the American had managed to stand just before she had.

The Yankee seized on this time advantage and moved in towards the Brit, forcing Millie onto the defensive as the American grabbed her by the waist, somewhere she desperately didn't want to be seeing as how Blossom had proved to be far stronger in every grapple they'd been in so far.

This proved to be no different. Millie strained, trying to fight back as the American pushed against her, doing everything in her power to hold her position. But even her all just wasn't enough as she soon found her feet slipping backwards as the American just plain overpowered her.

Millie shortly found herself pushed back as far as she could go, her back to the ropes and fighting back out of her mind completely. The Brit would give up trying to stand her ground, and would instead focus on desperately trying to wiggle free of Blossom's grasp.

The hold was on tight and Blossom was in control, able to push Millie back to the ropes and gain a lot of ground. Regardless, she didn’t feel comfortable at all, and likely wouldn’t until the bell rang. After all, the Briton had shown that she was perfectly capable of turning things around. The sooner she ended this, the better.

As she pushed Millie forward, she suddenly switched things up, abruptly easing up on the hold and let herself slide along her foe’s waist, moving in behind her. From there, Blossom put her all into a hard charge forward. The objective? To drive Millie into the nearest turnbuckle, slam her chest-first into the corner no matter how much she resisted.

If Blossom could get just that much done, the fun would start from there.

Millie was getting desperate as she was kept near the ropes. No matter what Blossom had planned, it couldn't be good for her. Trapped in one place like this she felt vulnerable, if she could just get away she could turn this around, she knew she could.

For a second, the Brit thought that she had managed it as she felt Blossom's grip loosen on her, and she tried to surge forwards. In hindsight, this probably just helped the American slip behind her, something that Millie learned the hard way as she felt Blossom push against her from behind, aiming at the nearest turnbuckle.

The Brit's surge of speed made Blossom's job easier, and Millie soon found herself slammed into the corner, yelping as her chest crashed into the turnbuckle. The various aches and pains she picked up throughout the match were starting to get to her, and the most she found herself able to do after that impact was weakly try to throw an elbow back at her opponent.

Blossom had Millie in the corner. She had her trapped. It wasn’t a simple matter getting her here, but she’d pulled it off, and no came the part she’d been practicing for weeks, the finishing move she’d decided to matter. She just hoped it worked as well here as it did in sparring. She wasn’t sure how much energy she’d have left if it couldn’t get the job done.

She wound up taking an elbow in the face for her efforts, but Blossom soldiered through it and kept her grip tight, squeezing hard around Millie’s middle. With a final breath, she pulled backwards and dedicated herself to the move.

”Chaos-”

She fell to the mat, bringing Millie down on top of her.

”-theory-”

She kept rolling, pulling herself over her opponent and yanking her along with her, coming down on her feet.

’-suplex!”

With the final move, Blossom used the combined momentum from the roll to lift her up in one more, powerful German Suplex, dropping Millie on her shoulders with shattering force.

Millie felt a sense of dread descend over her as one of the elbows she threw back made contact with Blossom's face, and the American proceeded to just shrug it off, keeping Millie trapped in her grip. That alone would have been worrying, but the fact that it was followed in such short order by Blossom pulling backwards made it absolutely terrifying.

Oh no.

In a moment the Brit found herself falling backwards, flailing weakly as she was pulled through the air.

No, no.

She rolled, trying and failing to stabilize herself as Blossom continued to drag her along, the American rolling over top of her.

No no no!

"KUH!"

With a thundering shake, Millie crashed into the canvas, a bolt of pain striking through her and knocking her senseless. The Briton fell limp, in too much pain to reasonably fight back, and too worn out to attempt any real struggle. All she found herself able to do was sit upside down, letting out a low, pained groan, and wait for the referee to start the count.

The crowd was surprised that worked, the referee was surprised that worked, Millie was probably surprised that worked, and even Blossom was kind of surprised that worked. Training really did pay off, and in a big way - not only did she put her opponent down, but she did so in spectacular fashion.

She bridged after the impact, holding the position tight, as the referee slid over to start the count.

”1…!”

Blossom cringed at the sound of the slapping hand, almost reflexively pulling away when she heard it. She’d lost so many times, had so many defeats, the idea that she could’ve pulled this off even with her new training was hard to fathom. The thought of hearing that count and not being the one on the bottom…

Millie was indeed surprised that had worked, for a short time before she hit the mat at least. After that she mostly felt a strong sense of disorientation, and pain. As she felt Blossom's arms tighten around her, holding her in place, the Brit had a sinking feeling that this was the end of the match.

She hung there limply, her limbs feeling heavy as she tried to bring herself to fight back. But she couldn't, the Brit was spent, and the count had already begun. Last time she'd called it close, this time she was barely able to wiggle her legs by the time the ref had started counting.

"2...!"

The sound of the second slap increased Millie's desire to break free, but her ability to escape just couldn't keep up. She weakly kicked, trying to escape just so that she wouldn't go down without a fight. But even with this, the former pilot didn't hold much hope that she'd actually manage to wiggle her way out of this one.

”3..!”

Even when she heard the final count Blossom couldn't believe it. Even when she heard the bell ring, Blossom couldn't believe it. It took a moment for the realization to really sink in, as if her brain wasn't used to processing this strange new feeling. The sensation of winning a match, of being victorious against a real opponent was so utterly foreign to her.

She’d won. She really did it. And now that she'd done it, she had to proceed with fitting poise and grace.

”Yes! Frick yeah!”

Or not.

Blossom popped to her feet and ran about the ring like a woman possessed, as if she'd just won a championship. ”Yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes!”

She skipped about, happy and free for a few moments, before her high dropped down enough for her to remember that there was a woman in the ring who'd given her a great, worthy match, and who deserved all the respect she could give her. Blushing, Blossom walked over to Millie and extended her hand. ”Oh, sorry. Just kind of carried away and...yeah…” She chuckled and rubbed the back of her head. ”Good match. Great match.”

Millie let out a sigh as she heard the last number in the count, slumping back onto the canvas as Blossom leapt up, celebrating her victory. Taking a moment to just rest on the ground, the Briton would breathe, feeling all the aches and pains bloom through her body as she blocked out all the outside noise for a moment, calming herself after a taxing battle.

That was, until Blossom started celebrating their match like she was expecting a belt at the end of it.

From that moment on, Millie's eyes were glued to her opponent. Watching her skip across the ring, cheering and practically dancing about. If she had to hazard a guess, the Briton would suspect that matches like this weren't the norm for the Yankee. It was kind of charming, in a way.

But what proved too much for the former pilot was Blossom's apology and compliment. As she looked up, watching as the American extended a hand and spoke, Millie's cold, blank expression cracked as she let out a "Snrrk," and then broke into a friendly little laugh, taking Blossom's hand as she brought herself back up to her feet.

"Not to worry," she said, smiling warmly at the American and shaking her hand. "You've won, congratulations seem in order. What do you drink? I'll buy." She offered, patting her opponent on the shoulder gently.

Even though she couldn't see her own face, Blossom knew full well she was blushing a bright crimson as she approached Millie, sheepishly shuffling over. Thank God the Briton was being a good sport about things, even as she rubbed in the win.

The handshake was appreciated. The little laugh was appreciated to, even if she didn’t see it coming. Millie had been so serious before - she loosened up a bit near the end of the match, but there was still this raw, business-like demeanor to her that was kind of intimidating. Seeing her like this, though, she seemed downright affable. Even nice.

Definitely a good thing. You could never have too many friends in the AFW.

”Oh, what do I drink, right.” She ran her spare hand through her hair as she gave Millie a tug to help her up. ”Well, the last time I had a drink, I got this thing they called a ‘Sweet Tart’, but I’m not sure how they made it. Tasted good, though.” She shrugged. ”Maybe you can just suggest something and I’ll go with it? I’m down for whatever.”