SS 19 Blade Uehara vs. Beauty Ichigaya

Preceded by: SS 19 Rising Star Championship - YUKINA (c) vs. Aisha Love
Followed by: SS 19 Entropy Championship - Manami Kuroda (c) vs. Pyrena Alexandria Nikos

Blade Uehara


Vs.

Beauty Ichigaya



Match Type: "I Quit"
Winning Conditions: Verbal submission
Stipulations: Loser Leaves AFW

Summer Splash. Finally.

Beauty waited in the gorilla position, decked out in a black and gold variation of her usual outfit, hair perfectly clean, skin immaculate, perfection from head to toe. While she was always worthy of her namesake, today she made sure to earn it even more than usual. This would be a momentous day, after all. Historic, in its own way. Today was the day that she and Blade settled things. Today was the day all her plans came to fruition. All the planning, all the plotting, her return and the aftermath, it had all led to this match - one that would determine which of them stayed and Friction and who left.

For Blade, it would be an opportunity to get rid of Beauty forever.

For Beauty..

She licked her lips as the thoughts raced through her head and the weight of the situation came down on her, but she had little time to consider much beyond that. One of the crewmembers, a sheepish looking thing that seemed weary of getting within five feet of Beauty, gave her the thumbs up. It was time.

Beauty’s old theme music was Killer Queen, but for this special occasion, she decided to try something a little different, a little edgier. For this match, she went with Wicked Ways, figuring it best to lean into the audience’s uninformed perception of her. That wasn’t the only way she bought into the stereotype, either.

Along with her inverted outfit, she wore a long, streaming robe, trailing behind her as she made her way down the ramp, looking every bit like the Queen she knew herself to be. Arms wide, her smile wider, she took in the glorious chorus of jeers that came toward her, soaking them all in. After all, they wouldn’t last long - soon enough, all those boos would became screams and cries, as they watched their heroine get dissected, right before their very eyes.

Beautiful.

She made her way into the ring, robe still draped behind her, and took a casual stroll about the ring as she took one last look into the mirror. She had to make sure everything was in place for her date...

*IcandothisIcandothisIcandothis...*

The mantra repeated ad nausem in Blade's mind was on a perpetual, never-ending loop ever since she first woke up this morning. While she brushed her teeth...drove herself to the stadium...while fitness trainers were helping her to stretch...to now, when she was hopping on the balls of her feet in the hallway beside the gorilla position. She was breathing deeply through her pursed lips while she listened to music on her headphones after slipping on a black and white variant of her typical wrestling attire. Fidgeting around backstage with butterflies in her stomach like a rookie who was greener than grass just wasn't like her, yet here she was. She typically never gets pre-match jitters...than again, she never had her career on the line for the second time in a row against the same narcissistic nutcase who ended it the first time...the same one who tore through Wrestle Angels with a nigh undefeated streak against some of the best in the business...the one who boasted about her superiority to no end, before backing up her words by cleanly power-bombing Blade into a rag-dolled slump last time...who Blade feels...utterly inadequate...and powerless...against...

*...nnn...feel like I'm gonna vomit again-NONONONO-IcandothisIcandothisIcandothis...*

Blade furiously shook her head left and right with a blubbering of her lips before the tapping hand of an AFW employee alerted her to her cue and theme music beginning to play. She tossed her Ipod and headphones at him and strode to the gorilla position, striding headlong into assured destruction with absolutely zero concern for her personal well-being...as was her way.

With her name jaggedly projected across the five story tall Titan-tron, the Aerial Artisan made her presence known with a flourishing unveiling from behind the curtains. A booming herald from eager-eyed audience members made it clear who they were putting their hopes on, and who they knew was coming into this fight the odds on underdog. Blade taking a moment to go into a squatting position to balance herself on the tips of her feet at the top of the ramp, and just take it all in, eyes roaming around the jam-packed arena. Blade ruminating on the road that took her to this exact point in her life...all the people rooting for her...her former tag-partner currently on leave from AFW...and the arrogant, conceited blonde bimbo preening herself in the middle of the ring.

Blade's facial expression glowering into a menacing death stare the minute she saw Beauty. Without another second in reverent thought taken, Blade stood back up and made a power-strutting beeline down the ramp. The pyrotechnic guys backstage hastily blasting off the fireworks meant to go shooting off when Blade performed her practiced pose...instead going off behind her in a dynamic shot that looked just as cool, arguably. Her gloved fists clenching tighter as she drew closer to the ring, when she would go into a blitzing sprint before diving under the bottom rope and attempting to tackle Beauty to the canvas and start wailing away at her!!!

Proper self care was, of course, of the utmost importance to Beauty. After all, this was a massive moment for her - her first PPV in Friction, a crowning achievement by itself, but also the first time that many around the world would be witnessing her radiance. Wrestle Angels always had such a limited range, but the AFW could stretch far further, going across social media, networks, to say nothing of the unsavory porn circulation.

But there was also the image to consider, the intimidation. As Blade’s music started, Beauty made no move to look her way, barely noticing her entrance. The goal was to look unconcerned and unmoved by her presence, as if the outcome was already certain. Beauty knew the urchin well - she was a woman who lived and breathed on her self-confidence, or lack thereof. If she could dominate on the mental battlefield, besting her physically would be such a simple matter, and then-

Beauty paused in her preening when she noticed that the crowd was getting loud, an odd spike in their volume for what should’ve been a simple entrance. Curious, she casted a lazy glare to the side, only to see that Blade was close and getting closer, far closer than she had any business being at this point.

”Um.”

And she was moving faster than she should’ve been, too.

”Wait a minute-”

And now she was running, dashing into the ring at full speed.

”Nononon-”

Beauty hurriedly began to take off her robe, unwrapping it as fast as she could, but she would need a good ten seconds at least, and Blade wasn’t giving her two. Helpless, she was hit hard and brought to the floor, toppled as the brat wailed into her with a heinous assault, viciously pounding away on her. ”-0ff! Get off me, you crazy, little-”

And just like that, there goes hours wasted on Blade's contemplating over exactly how was she going to kickoff this shindig. The professional and more angelic side of her envisioning perhaps keeping her emotions in check with a "stick and move" type strategy, where she planned her hits strategically with plenty of bobbing and weaving to stay out of the narcissistic blonde's killer clutches. The less scrupulous devil on her other shoulder ruminating on where she could best hide weapons on her person, such as if a can of mace and brass knuckles would be noticeable bulges in her pocket. In the end, Blade went down the middle road of forgoing weapons, but bringing the fight to Beauty right off the bat with a football linemen type tackle that put the blonde bimbo on her back with Blade bringing the pound to her ground and pound game.

"YouMotherFuckFuckFuck!!!" Every punch being punctuated with F-bombs through her teeth-gritting intensity, one hand clawed onto her golden hair to pin the blonde's head down and put the Beauty Queen's prize winning visage in the perfect spot to be wailed away upon. Blade straddling Beauty's abdomen as thousands erupted in booming approval of the Aerial Artist's well-deserved though still illegal manner of starting the match...which the referee opted to interfere in once it was plainly obvious that Blade wasn't listening to her insistent demands to at least allow the bell to ring with several feet of distance between them first. That same official begrudgingly wrapping her arms around Blade's to haul her off of Beauty and promptly act as a human shield between them...leaving Blade steaming and pacing left and right from the break up that would allow time for Beauty to scurry off and probably reapply her makeup or some bullshit.

”-crazyscruffymangylittle-”

A moment later and Beauty was still withering under Blade’s sudden assault, totally taken off guard by the blazing tactic. She should’ve seen it coming, in hindsight - while the little punkette did have her strengths, patience had never been one of them, and it was all too natural for her to rush the ring. Especially when she knew the advantage she was starting off at.

Thankfully, the referee finally remembered what her job was and moved in to restore order, peeling Blade off before true damage could be done. Beauty scrambled away, her tattered gown dragging behind her, until she managed to reach the corner and pull her way back up.

Keeping a glaring, cautious eye on Blade, Beauty proceeded to slip out of what remained of her garment, before tossing it out of the ring like the trash it now was. Such a shame, too. She’d wanted to pull it off slowly, make a show of it, truly impress Blade and impart the weight of what she’d signed up for. Now, she would have to settle for a beating with the pomp.

Beauty could live with that, though.

Throwing her hair back with a flourish, she stood proud and tall, then began to march across the ring with clenched fists as the bell rang, marking the real start to their match. Her eyes narrowed as she approached, nostrils flaring. ”I hope you enjoyed that little stunt, Blade.”

In a self-destructive gambit akin to throwing red tomatoes at a massive bull in ramming distance of you, sprinting headfirst into a fisticuffs-laden brawl with Beauty wasn't going to look particularly favorable on Blade's psyche-report when determining the mental sanity of the punkish high-flyer. But catching her opponent off-guard by throwing caution, predictability, and at times commons sense to the wind was simply Blade's wrestling forte, and one of the key factors in her becoming one of the few Wrestle Angels veterans renowned for her actual in-ring accomplishments. And not having being known for traits the company deemed more marketable...like how bootyliscious her ass was, or where she was on the thiccness spectrum.

Blade tempered herself somewhat once the referee started banding about words like "disqualification" and "self-control" along with pointing her index finger at the riled up ruffian. The Aerial Artist pacing left and right whilst reminiscing about all the powerbombs she had endured, the loss to that uptight maid in that handcuff match, Beauty roughing up one of her best friends...and this was just the recent gripes she fostered against the pompous powerhouse. The ringing of the bell and absence of the ref between them may as well being the opening bell of a horse race as Blade when dashing forward and with an embittered snarl went into a baseball slide between Beauty's leg, Blade hoping that that she would be too slow to turn around and not see the attempted lungblower coming as Blade clamped her hands behind the Beaut's head and tugged them both down.

Not the best start, no. Beauty was humble enough to admit that. Yes, she should’ve anticipated that Blade would come at her quite hard from the start. After the thrashing she gave Panther, it would only be natural for a hotblood like her to come at her full steam, consequences be damned. An oversight. Only a small one, however, and easily corrected.

All she had to do was get her hands on Blade. Simple.

Or maybe not.

For a second, she thought she had the ruffian, lunging forward to take her as she foolishly rushed forward - or seemed to, at any rate. As it turned out, she did have a plan, one that involved ducking between Beauty’s legs, avoiding her lunge entirely. Irritated, Beauty started to turn around...until she felt fingers gripping at her chin from behind.

[color:cc1a=ff99ff]”What-”

She figured out what was happening all too late, as she was jerked back and knees shot into her back, an impact that went through her entire body. Arms flailing, she wound up crashing down to her hands, taking a moment to catch her breath.

Blade was most certainly a lot of things, but she wasn't quite brash enough to go dashing right within striking/grappling distance of a powerhouse like Beauty without a plan of attack. Her impetuous wrestling style and decidedly long memory over all the ways Ichigaya tormented her life meant that there was no way Blade was going to play this match at any other speed aside from blistering...but that didn't mean she was dumb enough to get into a disadvantageous one on one slugfest with the blonde with freakish strength. So Blade drew from her days playing softball in junior high-school and slid between Beauty's legs before dragging her down into a back-cracking lungblower.

"No...seeing you strut that fancy ass of yours out of this federation is what I'm gonna enjoy most out of all this, you hear me..." Blade spitefully remarked while climbing back to her feet, finally saying her first cogent words since the match's inception before taking off once more towards the side of the ring. Where she than performed a nimble bit of footwork by stepping up the ropes until she was standing on the top rope, before than flinging herself backward for an attempted moonsault across the narcissist's abdomen or lower spine. Either landing pad would be fine in Blade's book...so long as she didn't come up with the lamentable third option of neither one.

Ugh. Blade was being smart. That could be troublesome.

Beauty had been banking on the little firecracker getting so riled up that she abandoned sense and reason, going straight for the kill and tossing sense and reason to the wind. That was clearly not the case, here. No, she was up against a Blade Uehara who was composed, controlled, focused. Thinking. For all the stereotypes that were thrown her way, many of them earned, the punk was nothing if not resourceful.

It would be annoying to deal with, but Beauty would deal with it. It was just a matter of time and technique. She just had to get up and-

...wait, where did Blade go?

She’d lost the little urchin in the chaos of the moment, and it just dawned on her how bad of a thing that was. If she couldn’t see Blade, then it probably meant that she was about to do something very painful, something that would have her coming down from the sky in an air raid. Sure enough, when she looked up, that was precisely what she saw.

Desperate, Beauty tried to throw herself out of harm’s way and roll out of the crash zone, but it was too late. She managed to get to her side as Blade came down, which meant that Blade came down on her ribs, which honestly was worse than getting hit on her back or front. Beauty squawked as bones were hammering into the canvas and went into immediate spasms, clutching her aching bones.