Cicilia De'Reighnhardt vs Death Bunny!

Rules: Hardcore Match. Weapons are scattered around the outside of the arena, all tactics allowed. Win By Pinfall, submission or knockout.
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Appearance:

Spoiler:

So... It was finally happening. Cicilia had been trying to score bigger and bigger matches, to really test her skill out there despite her limited time in wrestling. Her pride needed attending to, her skills needed challenges... After Alexia, she felt the... compulsion to find bigger and better names to throw down with... And she had found one: Death-Bunny. That was her stage name at least. Hysterical name aside, whenever she had a moment alone, she was constantly looking up her previous matches, watching her fights and reading up on her actions in the ring. Impressive was an understatement... The perfect grind-stone for Cicilia to hone her skill! She had wanted this for a long time, reaching out to the wrestler through various means, trying to get a schedule set up and eventually... she had gotten what she asked for... A wise man once said to be careful about such wishes... But who listened to old guys who speak in unintelligible gibberish anyway!? She had a fight with a BIG NAME! And she was gonna make it count.

Theme:


Cicilia walked out of her end of the stadium as her music blasted over the arena, the boxer letting out a heavy sigh to relieve some of the anticipation building up for this match... She had been waiting for this... Training for it... She had busted MANY-A punching bag in preparation for this match, amping up her strength... Now she was gonna see it all pay off in gold, reputation and skill... The Juggernaut's lips upturned in a confident smirk as she walked down the ramp, actually slapping the out-stretched hands of some of the fans that pleaded for such a gesture! First time she did that... Might as well be nice since she FINALLY got what she wanted. Cicilia took note of some of the weapons lying around the ring, staring at some of the more.... vicious variety... There were your classic chairs, paddles, etc etc, but there was also... bats... That sent a shiver down her spine as the scene of a familiar alleyway flashed across her mind. Slowly, her expression hardened as she slipped into the ring, pulling herself back up to her feet and cracking her knuckles as she watched for her opponent.

You don't get to play around anymore. She thought to herself, her nerves burning with the NEED for this fight! This is the big-league here. Don't screw this up.

"Heh. As if." She remarked under her breath. A fight with a woman who fought the champion was something she'd honor with her full, unrestricted might!

Success can breed many things, most typically an inflated ego that makes it all the more commonplace for that brief ascension in the ranks to be short-lived once your hubris led you to making simple mistakes. This usually wasn't an issue for D.B., who remained level-headed in her successes and never saw any victory without seeing the flaws she needed to work on. But what DID become somewhat of an issue was the steady rise in popularity she had been garnering...in terms of the company making bank off of her surprisingly marketable persona, and the number of fledgling challengers pestering her match request after match request. AFW taking it upon them-self to handle the influx of interest on her behalf, and relaying her responses for her.

Though most of her answers were easy to remember, since it was usually just stone-cold silence and emphasized disinterest. That was until, there was someone who stubbornly refused to take "No..." or "Get lost..." for an answer. The persistence was admirable at least. Written letters...formal inquiries with the company...Eventually D.B. finally begrudgingly relented and started doing her due diligence. She researched her matches on tape, watched them live from within the darkened recesses of the stadium. After a few days of contemplation had passed on by, D.B. had made her decision and responded to one of Cicilia's match requests with a folded up paper taped to the fogged up mirror after one of her showers in the locker room. With a response that was different than the others, but just as curt, direct, and to the point.

"...your funeral."

Death Bunny:

An all-encompassing darkness would engulf the stadium with cell phone camera lights dotted across the blackened arena. Striding out from behind the curtains to the dreary tune and eerie vocals of her grim theme, D.B. grimly lurched onward with a lifeless saunter to her steps down the elongated ramp. She strolled through the accompanying fog with her gloved hands in the pockets of her tattered trenchcoat and her wide-brimmed top hat shielding her face as she kept her head tilted down. The weapon-filled trashcans not garnering the slightest inkling of attention from her, the menacing dread and macabre anticipation from her aura mixing together perfectly as she made her way into ring at her own steady pace. Back to her corner, the removal of her hat brought about the illumination of the ring and sudden stoppage of her theme. Her lifeless iris' centered on the fresh-faced young-blood on the opposite side of the ring...

Relentlessness was what Cicilia did best in most things, especially when it came to matches. Simply ignoring her or telling her to quote "get lost" unquote only encouraged her to find a new vein to extract what she wanted! It took a lot of doing, much more looking than she would've liked but eventually, her persistence paid off in perhaps the coldest possible concession she had ever received.

...your funeral

Those words. They made her think of a certain woman and her goon-squad that had very nearly given that phrase it's original meaning. The unbridled chill in those words causing a flash of a certain french-woman's inhuman toothy grin to spark across her mind... The Boxer's rage boiled now that she had gotten what she wanted... Vengeance she couldn't take out on one monster of the cold she would instead give to another.

The music that played with the bunny's entrance was something she couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at, her ears quite offput by what could only be described as vomit-noise. In fact, the only thing that made it even remotely recognizable as music was a semi-consistent beat mixed with a human voice every now and again! She was not impressed with her opponent's music choice. Whatever. The girl came out soon after, the next thing Cicilia cocked a brow at was those ears. She had to wonder how many opponents stared at those ears and thought the same exact word:

Why?

They stuck up and bounced with each step of the cold, icy rabbit as she made her way down the ring, the Juggernaut matching her steely cold tone with one of molten rock. While the rabbit's expression remained cold and unreadable, Cicilia's eyes burned with a desire to see her break under her fists... Break and cry for mercy... Cicilia wouldn't be pinning her this match... Submissions or Knockouts only. Where Death-Bunny's eyes reflected her title, the german's burned with enough life for the both of them. Her desires were flat out and obvious much like how she fought, letting her opponent know just what game she would be playing before it crushed her to bits. The Long-eared opponent, however, was much harder to read. A stare as lifeless as a corpse provides excellent cover for one's motivations.

...Frustrating.

No words needed to be said between them. Not on Cicilia's end. She had said enough already. Words were only needed to get them here, to this fight. Nothing more, nothing less.

*DING!*

The german shifted into her boxing stance slowly, before locking it in, hard and still as a statue as she waited for her chosen opponent to make the first move. Why was the Juggernaut starting passive? To counter her and build her momentum off the foundation of Death-Bunny's surprise!

Everyone had a life story to tell. An indiscriminate chain of events brought about by a swirling combination of purposeful decisions, fated occurrences, and random happenstance. D.B. understood this straightforward principle well enough...she just didn't believe that right before a match with someone whose intention was to pound your face in was the best time, place, and company to divulge that information. A philosophy she regretfully admitted that many did not subscribe to around here. The prototypical pre-match banter and jaw-jacking was just something that never logically sat well with her, and at times she found herself playing along just to keep matters moving along...

*Ding*

...or not. The simple act of sparing D.B. of the mind-numbing repartee aspect of these more commercialized bouts had done more to earn points in her book than Cicilia might have anticipated. The grimacing scowl she brought to the ring perhaps not quite as eerily unsettling as the wicked smirk being directed towards the fledgling brawler as D.B. unfurled her trench-coat. Propping both it and her top hat on the steel ring post behind her before starting a grim march towards the center of the ring with a floppy bounce of her elongated bunny ears with every imposing step. The bunny girl figured that their was no better way to show her appreciation for the lack of squabbling banter than by reciprocating it. Not one syllable being uttered or sound being made save for the crack of her neck as she tilted her head to her right shoulder.

Cicilia's boxing stance was about what D.B. had come to expect given the copious amount of match footage she combed through in preparation for this brutal dance of theirs. And it may come as a surprise to Cicilia that once D.B. came to center stage just in front of Cici, the bunny girl would stop in place and suddenly adopt her own fighting stance. But one of the MMA variety. Hands up and unclenched with one arm extended outward and the other hand positioned closer to her head. Her chin tucked in so as to avoid and defend herself from getting randomly kayoed with one errant haymaker to her jaw. Her left leg bent towards Cici with her toes still touching the canvas and the majority of D.B.'s weight on her other foot. D.B's menacing grin never deviating as she maneuvered forward with shuffling footwork and peppered jabs here and there to Cici's propped up and guarding arms.

Cicilia was never much for the stupid "I'm gonna kick your ass" conversation most wrestlers like to hurl around at the start of a match. Made the fight more interesting for the viewers, sure, but that wasn't her style. Straight down to the business was her game. The fight was all she was here for. No more, no less. The most amount of show she or her opponent would get is her outfit and even THAT was modest compared to some she's fought in the past! Cicilia let out a heavy breath, her frown deepening as Deathbunny replaced that dead look on her face with a edged smirk... God, she hated that look. The boxer blinked as the crazed smiles of Alexia and Margaux flashed through her mind, their twisted, warped grins flashing behind her her eyes as she beat the living tar out of each of them, trying to wipe it all off their lips. She couldn't STAND the unhinged grin those IDIOTS threw at her, how disgusting they revealed themselves to be through their expression. It was amazing how much one could view through the face they chose to put on and with the one the Bunny had chosen, Cicilia's opinion of her dropped slightly.

Cicilia stood there in the center, staunch, unmoving as Death-Bunny joined her as well, shuffling in some stance that resembled that of an MMA fighter. So much looser, mobile, weaker in her opinion but it wasn't meant to be the tank that the Juggernaut's was. Whatever. At least she wasn't attacking her behind the scenes or threatening her family. Maybe she would be kind to her and leave her with a few teeth.

Oh, how the anger began to boil. With the start of the Match, Death-Bunny decided to go on the offensive, peppering Cicilia's guard with quick, light jabs as if trying to determine the weaknesses in her defense. Yeah... like any of those got through. The German bobbed and slipped around the occasional punch, the rest of the thrown fists deflected off her guard as if she were punching a steel wall-of-a-woman! This was the start of the fight where she was strongest... Such a pathetic little attack would do NOTHING to her!

Worthless... Her mind burned as Cicilia suddenly opened up with an unforgiving hook to the side of the woman's head, aiming to rip right through her arms and into her skull! She expected a dodge or a block, though... Death Bunny looked agile enough and her name had to come from more than her... unique attire. So wherever she would slip, Cicilia attempted to mirror her movements, hurling a jab at the girl's cheek... a faint intended to open up her guard below! Should she succeed, the Juggernaut's fist would suddenly shoot down, then arching UP at DB's gut, hopefully decompressing her lungs for ALL it was worth.

D.B. may have been misinterpreting the malicious vibe she was getting off of Cicilia after their less than loquacious introduction, but if she didn't know any better, it kinda seemed like Cici was coming into this match with some kind of beef to square with her. There was always the distinct possibility that D.B. could have slighted her in the past and she just straight up couldn't recall one specific beatdown out of the hundreds she's doled out in the past...or maybe the bunny girl reminded her of someone else she had an axe to grind with...or maybe unbridled aggression was just Cicli's default emotion.

Whatever the reason for her opponent's suddenly darkened aura from something so innocuous as a smirk, D.B. took note of it and filed it away with the rest of her presumptions about this person who apparently had the battle hardened endurance to take on the moniker of "Juggernaut". Bunny knew she had absolutely no place judging anyone else who took up exaggeratedly ominous wrestling names. Besides, she'd have to be that tough if she could stand to outlast someone like that sadomasochistic damage sponge known as Alexia.  

So knowing what she did...D.B. took it slow and opted to pepper Cicilia's impregnable guard with infrequent jabs and straights, trying to keep her timing unpredictable so as not to develop a pattern that that the boxer could exploit. Of course, none of these strikes were intended to do any damage or even hit. D.B.'s battle plan for now was all about feeling out Cici's defenses...testing her reflexes...and perhaps most importantly, hopefully not let Cici notice D.B.'s intentional maneuvering with her mindful footwork to pressure her opponent into backpedaling into that corner a few feet behind her.

"Tch..." But D.B. thought too far ahead and nearly took a thunderous hook to the side of her head as a result, the bunny girl flinching from the residual impact felt against her guarded forearm. Her posture wavered slightly but remained cemented to the canvas from what felt like a pint-sized tank shell almost clocking her in the cheek, the surprise from how much brute force Cici managed to hide behind that hook not having much time to settle as the next blow started coming in faster and was aimed right for her face. The feint jab coming in immediately afterward...and one that would have connected perfectly considering that D.B. didn't dodge or block it. The fearless choice of her WANTING to take that jab paying off in dividends since it allowed her guard to remain upright and able to shield herself from from what would have been a gut-busting uppercut that may have given the audience an unpleasant demonstration of what D.B. had for lunch.

Raising her knee upward also helped to block the uppercut, but D.B. was finished with playing defense. A stomping charge forward precipitated the deathly bunny girl digging her shoulder into Cici's stomach while grasping onto the back of her thighs to unbalance her stance for a simple but effective double leg takedown. What would also be effective, is D.B. than attempting some wailing and powerful haymakers for an attempted MMA ground and pound whilst on her knees and her waist between Cici's legs.

Baggage was always something Cicilia brought with her into battle. Like a tourist of fights, she always brought with her loads and loads of stuff because, as everyone knows, hitting someone with a suit-case full of past misdeeds hit far harder than someone just doing it out of competitive drive. It didn't even have to be something her opponent did to her specifically, though D.B. had earned some modicum of her animosity already. No, it just had to be something to fuel her anger and then that anger would be directed into her punches. It was simply how she fought... A way of coping with past wrongs while also using them to her advantage.

Back to the fight, The German's attempt's to gain an early lead with her heavy hook and uppercuts were met with a respectable defense, Her punches stopped by fast acting forearms which got in the way of their intended targets. Still... A small amount of success was evident, a tiny give in each of DB's guard with each impact, letting Cicilia know she already out-muscled her. Good... That meant she could outlast her if she could keep her in a straight up brawl. Before she could assert her position and set the pace of this fight, however, her opponent suddenly lunged in, planting her shoulder DEEP into the Boxer's gut and scooping up her leg, taking her down to the mat in a surprise take-down! The German grunted in more frustration than pain, aggravated that her plans to control this match were thwarted before they even really began!

DB began her attack from where she sat on top, returning Cicilia's heavy strikes with a few more of her own as she pounded on the boxer's arms, those that shot up to protect her head! She gave her very little opportunities to lash back without getting hit herself, forcing the juggernaut to hide behind her guard until she could think of a plan!

"Damn it..." Cicilia hissed, the canvas below them reverberating as the energy from Death Bunny's punches reverberated through the boxer's arms and into the floor itself! it would do her no good just sitting her and being punched... She had to fight back! Detaching one of her arms from her guard, Cicilia lashed out with an open hand, intending on grabbing DB's neck and jerking her down at her! No doubt this attack would render her vulnerable to a swift strike from the rabbit, smashing right into her jaw! That... was painful... But she didn't have the time or patience to linger on that! With a growl, The boxer would quickly jerk up, slamming her forehead into DB's face before jerking her to the side, intent on rolling on top and giving her a taste of her own medicine! Should her plan go as.... well... planed, the boxer would straddle Death-Bunny, baring down on her with blow after flow to her belly, chest and face, letting her punches choose where they landed!

This was the part of the match where studying tapes beforehand comes in most useful. Experienced wrestlers know that sometimes matches can be won before their ever fought depending on who is the more well-prepared walking into the ring. Rookies nowadays think that bench-pressing and honing your own techniques are all that's needed to achieve success, and while that's certainly a contributing factor...sometimes victory doesn't lie in busting your ass at the gym...but sitting on your ass and combing through copious tapes and doing your homework.

From those tapes, D.B. knew she was going up against a dyed in the wool boxing enthusiast. Which meant in order for her to get close enough to do some lasting damage to Cicilia...it basically meant being willing to take those smaller jabs of hers square to the jaw if it meant not changing up your guard and leaving yourself vulnerable from the real threats. Which was namely that cocked back uppercut that had just as much power behind it as that thunderous hook of hers. A hefty grunt being muttered from the deathly one as her shoulder-driven tackle had the ring shaking from the impact that had laid Cicilia out on the canvas. Right where D.B. wanted her and right when her waylaying haymakers would start being thrown. Her teeth gritting from the aggressive force behind each strike pounding away at Cicilia's guard...

...until one errant fist made clear and concussive contact with Cici's jaw. But there was no time for a follow-up as a clenching grasp of D.B.'s neck brought her down for a jarring headbutt that knocked her loopy enough to be easily overturned with switched positions. The warbled senses that lingered from getting clocked in the face with Cici's noggin suddenly became much more acute after the first two unchecked shots to her head and chest compelled to put her own guard up.

D.B. turtled up with the majority of her guard going into shielding her head. The raining blows quite literally feeling like a torrential rainstorm brought about by the enraged German straddling D.B.'s slim waist and letting her fists fly where they may. A twitching reflex came with each hammering strike upon the seemingly cornered and helpless veteran, whirling applause now resounding in shocked unison from the rookie having the venerated bunny reaper on the ropes...except behind her shielded arms, D.B. remorseless eyes were shut tight. Biding her time for even the slightest interruption of all these incoming strikes...and not hesitating when she felt her opening. She would shoot her hands up for a vice-like grip on Cici's hair. One that was intended to tug the German down close enough for what seemed like a side-headlock, but with D.B. once more spinning them in place and seating herself on Cici's laps, would be adjusted into a butterfly lock. Bunny's hands interlocked under Cici's arms with the German's head firmly tucked under D.B.'s armpit, with one of legs propped on her knee beside Cici. As debilitating a submission for a striker as you could think of.

"Tch...and I thought I had anger issues. You go into every match with the intention to knock someone's teeth out...or am I just that damn special?"

It was a pleasant surprise that D.B. didn't buckle under the Juggernaut's fury like lesser women. It was never truly satisfying to go up against an opponent that couldn't meet your power and not be crushed in it's presence. Her opponent now... She wasn't like that at all. Of course, she didn't blame her for her moment of weakness, after all Cicilia's power was great, but after three strong blows, the rabbit's guard shot back up to defend it's master... Respectable durability to say the least. But then, what did she expect? She had done her research on her and knew just how much of a pounding she could take! Almost as much as Cicilia... Almost... And her whole strategy was being just as tough as she was strong.

...However. While the Juggernaut had strength and durability... DB was a far more rounded fighter than Cicilia was. She wasn't afraid to admit it. The German simply didn't had a knack for nor did she actively practice submissions... A weakness DB did not possess! In fact, it was something that would serve her well in this fight! As the boxer punched away, she failed to notice her opponent taking stock of her situation and once she was given an opportunity, she sprung for it! DB grabbed at Cicilia's hair, forcing her attack to a grinding halt, one of those vengeful fists shooting up reflexively to pry those fingers loose! That wasn't the end of what was coming however as, with all the skill and professionalism DB possessed, swiftly locked the boxer into a hold MEANT to cripple strikers like her: A Butterfly lock!

"GAH!" The German cried in both frustration and pain, ENRAGED that she had been caught in such a trap this early in the damn fight! Cicilia threw herself this way and that, attempting to jerk her arms free from the prison they were encased in, but this was where the Death Bunny truly lived up to her ratings! The Juggernaut hissed as her opponent mocked her vicious approach...

Yeah... Keep talking... I'll take you apart!

"Is that a complaint...?" Cicilia growled through her teeth. "Give me a reason to consider you 'special' and I'll knock you out with one. Damn. PUNCH!" With that last word, Cicilia made one last attempt to power OUT of the submission DB had locked her in, using all that might she had built up throughout her carrier to force herself and her arms FREE... Perhaps at the cost of some stamina. She couldn't afford to lose her arms... They were the most critical part of her style!

"RRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

As much fun as D.B. was assured that Cicilia was having with their little tussle, the bunny reaper realized early on that neither of them were getting anywhere with this schoolyard rumble of theirs. One punched the other, the other guarded until they were capable of reversing the situation so they could get back to letting some fists fly...rinse and repeat. It was the wrestling equivalent of someone asking for directions, and being told to take four right turns. At this point, they were just going in circles with neither of them making any tangible progress aside from an errant strike here or there. Of course, D.B. didn't expect Cicilia to be realizing this anytime soon...not with her acting like a bloodthirsty lunatic on the warpath.

Biding her time beneath a hailstorm of clobbering fists was an exercise in endurance, fortitude, and patience. A veteran of her caliber knew how to withstand a bombardment like this without cracking under pressure, her guarded posture only wavering when the Juggernaut seemingly hesitated in between strikes. An occurrence that D.B. was relieved to notice considering her arms were starting to get a little numb from all of this. But whether it was through hesitation or the onset of exhaustion, D.B. capitalized all the same by rising from the dead and springing back to life by tugging Cicilia down to her level. The seamless transition reversing their situations once more only with D.B. opting to corral the frenzied bull in the arm wrenching Butterfly Lock.

"...This doesn't feel good, does it? To feel utterly helpless...To loss all semblance of control..." D.B. coldly remarked while bearing down on the hold even tighter the more Cicilia struggled and squirmed, gritting her teeth from what was eventually becoming an uncontrollable situation. Powering down in the hold and torquing the submission to bring even more pain to her shoulder blades should by D.B. some more time and settle Cicilia down a little. But if the thick-headed rookie wanted out of the submission that badly, D.B. was happy to oblige. She hauled the frenzied rookie back up to her feet with the submission still applied, and with a heaving groan and bucking motion backwards, would use that grip to flip Cicilia overhead for an attempted Butterfly suplex.