Liao 'Bacchus' Jun vs. Vanessa York - Another Shot

Vanessa could’ve laid into Bacchus with a flurry of punches, and that had even been her initial instinct, her boxing training coming back to the surface and vying to take the forefront. While she’d been an experienced wrestler for years, her roots never truly left her, as if her body knew what to do with an opponent in the corner, regardless of what the rest of her body thought on the subject.

But this was a wrestling ring, and the rules were different. She could only keep Bacchus in the corner for five seconds, and that wouldn’t do too much with the guard her opponent had up. Best to crack that shell. Hard.

The Dropsault accomplished that.

She landed it and went vaulting back, landing on her feet and nearly dropping to a crouch. She could’ve gone sprinting in and continued her assault, pressed her advantage...but she didn’t, instead pausing as Bacchus spoke. She was smiling before she even realized it, matching the one on her opponent’s face. This match was a fun brawl so far, she had to admit. The most fun she’d had since she came to the AFW, and it had only just stared.

Vanessa straightened up and rolling her shoulders, before stepping back with her arms wide open. ”It’s not all about you. I’m looking for some fun, too.” She gave her chest a tap and motioned for Bacchus to rise. ”You can do better than that, bitch. Come on.”

Bacchus was in a pretty vulnerable spot just then. It would have been quite easy for Vanessa to charge and push her advantage if she’d wanted to. Instead she gave the Chinese striker room to get up so they could begin their fight anew, even struck a pose that let Bacchus get a nice, good look at her.

She let out a chuckle at her foe’s response, then her hands went to grab the middle rope floating by either side of her head. With a grunt she pulled, slinking herself back up to her feet without taking a step. The quick motion and the alcohol in her system gave her a brief headrush, but she was up and ready to go again. And this time Bacchus did something a bit different - she actually took a real stance.

Her body turned slightly to the side, legs spread about shoulder width while she balanced on the balls of her feet. Her fists remained low but were now clenched, poised to move at a moment’s notice when needed. If Red wanted some fun, Bacchus would be happy to oblige. Slowly at first she began closing the distance, observing Vanessa while she did so. There was a sudden tensing in her legs, a quick but sharp movement designed to give the impression she was about to kick with her right foot. Instead, Bacchus then abruptly flipped the stance to face the opposite side, and the moment her feet touched the mat from that shift her left foot lashed out in an attempt to slam a lightning-quick kick right into Vanessa’s ribs!

While Vanessa was willing to give Bacchus the chance to get back on her feet, there was an expiration date on that offer. It ended the moment she looked like she was up and good for another round, and she brought her fists back up and moved in the second that happened.

Only she wound up stopping about halfway. Her fighting instincts demanded as much, as Bacchus slipped into a real, honest stance. No more of that leisurely, casual swagger. No more swaying. This was loose, tight, disciplined, practiced.

She hadn’t known this woman for long, but even Vanessa could tell - this was the real Bacchus.

Vanessa lowered her profile as she moved in, inching closer, eyes narrowing as she entered Bacchus’ striking range. Her foe had quick kicks, but even with this improved stance, she was reasonably certain she could avoid one and fill the gap with her fist. Her patience was rewarded soon enough, when she saw the left leg started to come out, and took a step to the side, just in time to-

”Fu-” Her curse was cut short by her contracting ribs, as she took a hit in the ribs. Fast, lightning fast, like the crack of a whip but ten times harder. It sent Vanessa staggering into the ropes as she rubbed the spot of impact, reeling hard from the hellish blow.

A loud smack rang out with the connection of Bacchus’ foot with Vanessa’s ribs. Its echo was like nature announcing to all in the arena that the kick had connected, and probably hurt like a bitch. The Chinese striker wasn’t much of a planner when it came to her matches. But that shot had been calculated, and it had hit right on the mark. It was a small taste of what had once qualified her for the Olympics.

Chuckling slightly while she watched Vanessa stagger into the ropes, a few different follow-up options quickly popped up in Bacchus’ mind. She could shuffle in and go for a devastating high kick to the noggin’, or maybe continue to try blasting down those ribs. Both ideas had their pros and cons. A wise fighter would probably advise her to try either, or at least weigh the options out before making up her mind.

But Bacchus saw a third option here. It wasn’t the kind of thing any coach would recommend, but at the moment she felt sure it would be the most fun of the three. Needing nothing more than that, she bolted forward and ran toward Vanessa, throwing her arm forward in an attempt to clothesline her over the top rope and out to the floor at ringside, where Bacchus would spill out right along with her if it worked!

Cover up.

Those were the two words that popped into Vanessa’s head right away, and she could hardly be blamed for it. It was her training for situations like this. She’d never been the most hardy boxer, relying on her speed and distance to deal the damage, so when an opponent managed to navigate her minefield she had to be ready for the onslaught. Up came her arms, good and tight, looking to absorb the next kick that came her way.

A good idea, really. Would’ve been the right play, 99% of the time. But, as Vanessa was learning more and more, Bacchus was a 1% kind of fighter.

Instead of the kick, the woman ran into her with a hard, wild clothesline into the ropes, with more than enough momentum to send them tumbling over the ropes. It was all Vanessa could do to tuck her head in, keeping it from smashing on the ring apron as they fell, but that wasn’t enough to save the rest of her body. Her shoulder hit the edge of the ring and gravity brought her crashing down the rest of the way, coming down hard on her side.

Hissing, she rolled over to her chest and nursed the arm she came down on, trying to soothe the blazing pain. It all sucked, and she just hoped it suck nearly as much for Bacchus as it did for her.

A sudden gasp rang out through the crowd as both women went spilling over the top rope and crashed unceremoniously onto the floor outside the ring! The landing indeed sucked for Bacchus too, who lay flat on her back with her limbs sprawled out right next to where Vanessa was, pain throbbing in seemingly random, isolated spots over her body. Her fall had been too erratic and quick to tell what had hit where, but she was an aching mess. Even still, as one of the cameramen moved in for a closeup on Bacchus, it was quickly revealed the Chinese striker was not only smiling, but laughing. Clearly the fun she was having was troping whatever pain her body was enduring. The only thing putting a damper on that fun was the ref, who started counting then.

“ONE!... TWO!...”

Oh yeah, countouts were a thing. With a groan Bacchus rolled over and grabbed the ring apron, using it to pull herself back up to her feet. She didn’t want to get right back into the ring immediately. Something in her head told her to take advantage of the hazardous ringside environment just a bit to further wear Vanessa down while she could. Maybe throw her into the guard rail, or the steps. Yeah, that sounded good.

“THREE!... FOUR!...”

“Oi, shut it! I hear-” Bacchus started to shout while looking toward the ref. But with her glance turned upward, a new, much more fun idea came into her head. Lips stretching into a wide grin, she grabbed onto the middle rope and leapt onto the apron, almost slipping off on her landing and just barely correcting her balance in time. She gave a thumbs up to the audience to show she was alright, prompting a small round of humorous cheers before she refocused on Vanessa. If she wasn’t already up, she likely would be soon. And once she was, Bacchus would rush along the apron before throwing herself into a flip directly at her rival, using her own body as a projectile weapon as she aimed to crash right into the redhead with a cannonball senton! This would suck a whole lot worse than her last spill to the floor if it went wrong. Clearly, Bacchus didn’t give a shit.

Bacchus clotheslined her over the ropes.

It seemed kind of dumb to only realize that now, but that was the case. Vanessa was on the floor, wallowing, and it only then really clicked on her to evaluate what had just happened. The woman had been doing well with the kicks, she could’ve pressed her advantage in lethal ways, but instead she’d held off and went for that crazy, kamikaze move, dumping them both out hard. It was wild, it was insane, it was silly, it was…

...kind of hot, if she were being honest…

But it wasn’t going to stop her. She just had to push her way up, stand tall, and why was the audience cheering?

Vanessa gained the answer to her question when she looked behind her and saw Bacchus running to her on the apron, closing in fast with those stork legs of hers. She was fast, but not nearly fast enough to avoid the human wrecking ball coming her way. All she could was get her hands up in defense, which kept her from getting rocked in the face.

Even with that, though, there was still momentum to deal with. The hit hand more than enough force to knock Vanessa off her feet and sent her crashing into the steel step, hitting them hard enough to send the top half flipping over. That was where she stayed, too, sitting up against the bottom half, groaning and moaning and shaking her head as the pain ran its course through her system. ”Goddamn it…” She muttered as she rolled off to the side. ”Could you just go back to kicking me? Fuck.”

The dove had been excessive, reckless, and arguably even stupid on Bacchus’ part. She was already in better shape than Vanessa. It would’ve been so easy to just get her back in the ring and pile on the pressure. Turning herself into a human projectile not only put that advantage in jeopardy, but there was also the added risk of getting herself or even both of them counted out if things went bad.

But miraculously, the Chinese wildcard found her mark, blasting into her rival and sending her crashing into the steel steps in the process! The crowd was alive, filling the air with excited cheers. Their excitement was shared by Bacchus, who continued to smile and laugh as she laid on the ground, taking it all in. Unfortunately, the ref had to ruin her fun again.

“FIVE!... SIX!...”

“Alright, alright already,” Bacchus said as she rolled over and picked herself up, though she didn’t make it clear whether it was in response to Vanessa or the ref’s count. Moving over to her for, she leaned down and grabbed a wrist while putting her other hand behind the woman’s neck, then tried to drag her back up.

“SEVEN!... EIGHT!...”

If Bacchus was able to get Vanessa back to her feet, she’d bite back the urge to shout at the ref again, and finally roll her opponent back into the ring under the bottom rope to break the count. Bacchus climbed up to the apron...but didn’t immediately come back through the ropes. Instead she moved into the corner and climbed up to the top rope! Her last dive had been reckless, but this was even more dangerous in her buzzed state, as made apparent when her foot slipped! She caught the rope with her hand and steadied herself just in time, but holy shit was it a close call. That was the second time in less than a minute she’d wiped out like that. Slowly, steadily, she eased her foot back into position, but her slip cost her several precious seconds, allowing Vanessa some recovery time Bacchus hadn’t at all intended to so freely give her.

It was a good thing that Bacchus helped Vanessa up and into the ring, because holy hell, did she need it. The last few minutes had done a number on her in record time, and it was all she could do to go along with her opponent as she was dragged along, barely able to keep from falling flat on her butt.

On the plus side, though, it was refreshing to know that Bacchus had about the same thoughts as her when it came to winning via count-out. Really, part of her was kicking the other part for not making this a No DQ match. Something for next time, she supposed.

...though, who said there’d be a next time? Why did that idea pop into her head? And why did she like it so much?

She shook her head, figuring that Bacchus must’ve rocked her harder than she first thought. Pushing up, she started to rise, raising her head, when she caught sight of her opponent making her way up the turnbuckle, scaling it for another aerial assault.

That wasn’t going to happen. Couldn’t happen. And even though Vanessa’s body wasn’t feeling it at the moment, she had to make sure of that.

Growling, she pushed her way up and rush to the corner, climbing up as fast as her feet could go. It was actually an ideal situation - Bacchus’ strength was in her kicks, and those lethal legs were too busy climbing at the moment. Vanessa’s fists, however, were, a different story, which she demonstrated by making her way up to the second rope, grabbing Bacchus by the hair with one hand and throwing a hard right cross into her face with the other.

“Quit while you’re ahead” is the advice so often given to gamblers on a hot streak. Rarely did those who ignored it walk away better off for it. The kind of reckless offense Bacchus had started employing had managed to work twice only because she’d caught Vanessa off guard both times. Those gambles hadn’t been smart in the first place, but they had paid off. Bacchus should’ve stopped there and gone right back to the kicks, but the thought of going high-risk one more time had just been too enticing.

Her hot streak came to an abrupt end when she corrected her balance after the near slip, only to look back up just in time to see the last split second glimpse of Vanessa’s fist before it clocked her right in the face! The blow rocked Bacchus’ head to the side, an explosion of pain filling her head while her vision became a flash of non-existent light followed by a swirling blur of her surroundings.

Bacchus was lucky her hands were still holding onto the ropes. Otherwise, she no doubt would’ve fallen off the ropes, and there were no ways that landing could’ve been nice. Best case scenario, she would’ve flopped into the ring and been a sitting duck for Vanessa to attack how she wished. On the other end, there was a set of steel steps behind her, the same ones Bacchus had knocked her foe into moments earlier. A fall onto those could’ve spelled the worst sort of catastrophe around. She was lucky enough to avoid that, but essentially being stuck and dazed on the top rope in such a vulnerable position was hardly anything to celebrate...