Cicilia De'Reignhardt vs GASTER: Darker, Darker Yet Darker

Cicilia let out a heavy sigh as she walked out into the arena from back-stage, frustrated by this little surprise match. She had only been informed of this match only a few hours before, just enough time to cancel all her plans (sorry Sayumi...) and grab her suit from the cleaners! Damn AFW demanding she fight at the most inconvenient times... Yeah, they were paying her extra for the inconvenience but Christ! She had to look over her contract again. maybe ask Mariah to help her through it. These surprise fights WOULD NOT become a staple! If one couldn't tell already, Cicilia was already in a fowl mood. Her lips were curled down in a disgusted frown, her body language was tense and closed off as exemplified by the crossed arms and furrowed brow. Her sanguine eyes cut across the audience like laser-beams, not at all feeling like indulging their little fetishes by posing for them tonight. She was here not because she wanted too (Because she'd rather be in bed, holding her sweetheart) but because she HAD to. The guy on the phone seemed ALL TOO ready to remind her they had a contract....

Bastard.

Whatever... She'd crush whoever they threw against her tonight and head right back home. She didn't have the patience to toy around with this girl, whoever she was. She would break her face across her knuckles and end it quickly! With a huff, the boxer stomped her way down the ramp, wasting no time crawling into the ring and halting only at the center. She grumbled inaudiable curses and creative insults so acidic, it would melt the skin off your face... If only you could hear the German. She tapped her foot impatiently, staring off on the other side with intent.

"Get out here, idiot..." She hissed under her breath. "I want to go home."

The match was a surprise for the Brit as well. On a particular Monday, where she believed she wasn't booked, she thought she could just hang out at home, and play some video games...

...only to get a message on her phone about having a match for tonight's episode...

...around 3 hours before it was due.

Needless to say, the Brit was jolted up into getting ready for a match tonight by the message.

Thankfully, she didn't have many plans aside from staying at home, so getting to the AFW complex, and preparing for her match wasn't the hardest, nor the most difficult or stressful thing for her.

Only problem was, with her getting information on her opponent. She hoped that the only part that that affected was her promo. While she was actually getting plenty of wins elsewhere, in AFW, she has yet to win any important match, and being completely squashed by other women several times...

"...No! This changes today!", she would think to herself in the locker room, as she finished getting changed, and proudly went to the gorilla position, awaiting for her opponent to finish her entrance...and for her's to begin...

Lights would go out through out the arena, outside of a single purple-ish projector shining into the newly created darkness, as fog would slowly envelop the entrance ramp, and a lonely shadow-y hooded figure would make her way through, before revealing GASTER's smiley mask. The lights would slowly come back as the Shadow Lord would laugh maniacally at it's return.

Slowly, the Shadow Lord would make her way down to the ring to her creepy theme tune, making her way down to the ring in an arrogantly royal manner, taking a look at her opponent...

3 things went through her mind about Cicilia (getting her name at the last minute during her entrance): she was quite big and imposing, the chuuni feeling the weight of her foe's gaze much more than she did with Alaina Sanders a few weeks back...

The third thing? She looked really, really angry.

Rolling into the ring, GASTER would give off one last evil laugh, before her music faded out, and she asked a microphone from the ref.

"Mwahahahaha! Why are you so angry? Could it be that you know you are going to lose to me tonight? Then I will try to make it as quick and as merciful of an execution as possible!", GASTER would say to her foe, before stepping away into her corner, taking off her yellow hoodie to reveal her usual yellow bra, knee pads and boots, and grey leggings, draping it over the corner, as the ref made final checks before the match could begin...

Cicilia was less than impressed by the almost cartoonish persona of her opponent, even less so now that she could see her outfit and how utterly bland and mainstream it was. If there was somethings that stood out about her though was her mask and her accent. The Mask was... different to say the least but not necessarily in a good way. For all that fog and games with the lights, the only notable part of GASTER's appearance seemed to be nothing more than a creepy little (wooden...?) mask with a little face scribbled onto the outside. The eyes were probably the best part about it, seeing as they were drawn to be caved in with red lights glowing from the sockets, the mouth just a little zig-zag thing that looked to mimic some anime expression or something.

Her accent put off Cicilia somewhat, however, how strange and and warped her words came out she couldn't quite place where exactly she was from, somewhere from Europe if she had to guess. Irish? It was something like that... Bah. Whatever. It didn't matter. Chances are she would never see her again after this match anyway. Cicilia only cocked an eyebrow as the girl laughed in her face and declared her future win. What... a ham.

"You're not all that impressive." Cicilia remarked coldly, casually, her words cutting across the air like a knife. "What are you, a cartoon bad-guy? Don't you know they always lose?" She didn't have time for this... The sooner she was home and in bed the better. With her masked opponent putting up all but her wrestling garbs, Cicilia simply raised her fists in her boxing stance as the ref got between them, checking to see if they were ready for the match. Once he was satisfied, he would signal for the match to begin.

*DING!*

The German went on the attack, as was her nature, charging down GASTER and starting off with punch across her Masked jaw-line before grabbing her by the throat with her other hand and CRASHING her into the ground in a choke-slam! Cicilia was keeping very little back... GASTER would be able to sense the resolve emanating off her fellow European.... How utterly merciless it was.

GASTER listened carefully to what Cicilia had to say. By her voice, the German had no time for the Shadow Lord's little showcase, her voice fairly cold and uninterested:

"I am the exception to that rule!", she would let out, even though recently, she has done nothing but lose on AFW TV...hoping that maybe tonight, even though she had a very intense, and seemingly slightly upset opponent to content with, she could still eke out a win.

Before the bell rung, Clara paid close attention to her foe's stance...being more boxing in nature than a wrestling one. Perhaps she'd have an upper hand due to her hold based style?

"DING!"

"SMACK!"

"UAAAGH----GAAAH!"

Within a blink of an eye, Cicilia was onto her. GASTER wanted to start off the match slow as usual, and as a result, would not expect as the German quickly rushed towards her, and delivered a hard hook onto her jaw!

...and then grabber her by her throat!

The hold wouldn't last for long as Cicilia would lift the Shadow Lord up into the air, and slam her down with authority with a chokeslam!

"GYAAAAAAAH!", GASTER screamed out due to the searing pain in her spine!

Cicilia wasn't going to waste any time with the normal pleasantries the both the audience and her opponent (apparently) had come to expect. She was tired... She had been over-worked for weeks now and she just wanted her winner's check. Her straight-to-the-point mind-set was best seen when she SLAMMED her fist into Gaster's masked face before SLAMMING her to the ground with a brutal and nearly unrestrained choke-slam, crushing the smaller girl against the floor! The cries from GASTER almost seemed completely theatrical as well, going out of her way to strain her lungs and cry to heavens BEYOND the heavens!

Bah. More annoying than deterring if that was her intention at all.

The Juggernaut lifted Gaster back to her feet with a soft grunt before cocking a fist back and SLAMMING it into her cheek again! A barrage of blows from that one fist would follow, intent on crushing the girl in her grasp and end this match before it even began! She could sense the crowd around her mutter in their various oppinions, some praising the carnage the boxer brought, others muttering in concern for the masked failure! Cicilia didn't care... They were just spectators. She was the one getting paid for this.

Spoiler:

"Uuuuuuugh...", the Shadow Lord would groan over the pain in her spine...

...though she wouldn't be allowed to rest for long, as Cicilia would quickly grab her by her neck, lift her up...

And unleash a hard punch at her masked cheek: "AAAAAAH!"

And another one:

"AAAAAAH!"

And a lot more, all while holding the poor girl in one place by her neck as the German unleashed all her frustrations on her, each punch accentuated with a cry of agony from GASTER...

By the time Cicilia would be done, Clara would be weak in her legs, and all Cicilia would have to do to make the Brit fall was let go off her neck...

Each punch seemed to hammer GASTER's mask into her face, each time receiving a cry from the weak little wrestler. Each blow seemed to pound the life out of her, pretty much the only thing keeping her standing being the claws wrapped around her throat. It was nothing less than pitiful that this girl did nothing to defend herself, nothing less than aggravating her over-the-top screams of pain as Cicilia's fist drilled into her cheek once again. Once it was all over, GASTER effectively hung by the neck the German held her from... only to be dropped into a swift kick that shot high into one of the boxer's signatures, her High Kick!

Should her attack connect, Cicilia's heel would shoot UP high into the girl's chin in an impressive display of uncharacteristic flexibility! Cicilia might've only ever used this move once... now twice in her entire career, not least because she was a boxer. It wasn't really in her style to use her legs for offensive action... It felt... awkward to say the least. Perhaps it was because she never had to before or maybe it was because her personality didn't call for it but today she was going to try something else... She could afford to, after all, given how easily it was to incapacitate her opponent.

Nonetheless, despite it's lack of use in actual battle, this strike was probably her second most powerful and easily her quickest... Her train-wrecker punch still held all the strength of a seasoned boxer such as herself but a kick from someone this strong... it would send even the biggest women reeling and lesser folk flying!

Right as Cicilia would drop the Shadow Lord, in what little of what remained of the Brit's consciousness, she planned on hitting the mat flat with her face, be pinned by her German opponent, and be done with the encounter, and make this her worst loss in AFW yet...

...and it almost did end up as she predicted, with an added bonus of a quick, but vicious High Kick from the Boxer! The attack disconnected her feet off of the ground before she landed onto her front. This time, there was no scream accompanying the pain from the attack for the chuuni...just the pure darkness within her vision as the last of her remaining consciousness was knocked out...

Cicilia watched as her opponent fell flat on her ass, defeated in perhaps the shortest match Cicilia had ever had the... opportunity to participate in. Besides that one midget that only took one blow to the head to knock out, this girl was up and downed in less than a minute... and that was something Cicilia was both proud and ashamed of... Even though she didn't want to be here and she was exhausted and just wanted to go home, she pitied this girl for such a pathetic loss. She didn't even lay a hand on Cicilia and yet she was able to lose... Perhaps the German would start to feel guilty once the burning, numbing fumes of frustration cleared from her mind under a nice hot shower but here...? She really couldn't care enough.

without another word, the boxer just placed her boot on Gaster's chest, nodding to the Ref to begin his 3 count. There was no way she was getting up, no life in that body besides the rise and fall of her chest. This was a dead-end match and she only hoped the audience got more out of it than she did.

1!

2!

3!

"Too. Damn. Easy." Cicilia growled to herself, feeling the swelling of a heavy heart build up too SOON! She stared down at the mask of Gaster, feeling almost as if she should take it off... as a punishment to herself... It probably would've been harder to beat the life out of her if she wasn't wearing such an... interesting mask so seeing it now... It made her want to look at the girl she'd just pulverized. Slowly, Cicilia reached down to grab at Gaster's mask... careful to not be rough for once today.

Despite being pinned with such a simple cover that was a boot on a chest, GASTER simply couldn't kick out. Her mind was blank, but slowly, she was coming to, hearing a faint ringing of the bell, as she looked up in the brightly lit ceiling...

...and berating her for losing once more.

She was back the way she was before she joined AFW. Bigger girls beating the snot out of her to look good. Her heart was heavy at the loss, thinking it couldn't possibly get any worse....

And then Cicilia's arm started coming down on her, in a grabbing motion, as if to take the mask off...

...and, despite having no strength to resist the boxer, GASTER would grab at her arm:

"P-please...don't do this...don't take my mask, anything but this...", she would plead, on the verge of tears...