SS 19 Blade Uehara vs. Beauty Ichigaya

"SaSSa...fraSSa...fRaKKin..." Blade was on point with her Yosemite Sam-esque impersonation as usual, even with her scrunched face being squished to the side against the mounting pressure of Beauty's accursed knee. It was a seamless impression that was regrettably only something that came out of her when she was under unbearable torment from whatever opponent she was squaring off against. The match itself coming to a screeching halt thanks to the brash high-flyer being grounded, both figuratively and literally with Blade not even having the capacity to even think straight thanks to the compression of her skull and all the agony that came with it.

*...Gah...ohthankgod...* Blade thanked her lucky stars once the Beaut had eased up on her noggin and allowed the frazzled Aerial Artist to slump back against the middle turnbuckle for just a second of relief-..."Dyah shit"...-or maybe not. Blade letting fly with the colorful language as she was unwillingly hauled back to her feet by her unkempt hair, before being left to fly herself upon Beauty hoisting her up into the air for a nasty spill over the top ropes that took everyone's breath away from the callous nature in which she flung the fan favorite. Who landed flush on the side of her hip with a smacking thud, Blade hollering a agonized wail before rolling towards the barricade while holding her arm, which had taken it's share of the impact as well.

Hurling Blade out of the ring served many purposes, some of which the rabble wouldn’t have been privy to unless they were of a particularly sharp mindset - which she doubted any of them were. It was startegic, getting Blade away from the ropes and the ring that were central to her moveset. On the floor, brute strength would favor Beauty, and there were a myriad of ways she could bolster that advantage below. It also gave her a moment to recover and catch her breath after such an impressive opening volley.

But more than anything, it was just fun. Ragdolling Blade around was always such a treat.

Beauty took a moment to properly primp her hair, making it was appropriately bouncy, before she stepped through the ropes and made her way to the outside as well, daintily hopping off the apron to land near her foe, looking on as she wailed and rolled towards the barricade. ”Oh, my such a nasty spill, Uehara. Are you all right? Here, let’s get a better look at that…”

She reached down to try and scoop Blade up, catching her around the waist and helping her up to her feet - where she waited to catch her with a tight, crushing bearhug. Her own generous bust poured forward to envelop her foe’s meager one, adding some insult to grevious energy, sapping the life out of her foe.

Casting the scruffy-haired tomboy down into the grungy and downtrodden depths from Beauty's lofty perch did...remarkably well in symbolizing just what their tenuous dynamic was all about. Exemplified even moreso as the vainglorious narcissist primped and preened herself like an exalted noble fresh from discarding the peasantry that she regarded with contempt...or maybe this was all just Blade looking too deep into things. Regardless, these poetic interpretations were at least helping her keep her mind off of the throbbing soreness felt throughout the entire right side of her body. Blade having rolled herself against the barricade for a brief respite that, of course, wouldn't last for long once she heard that same haughty voice again.

"...Naw, s'okay really...you don't haveta-ahgoddammit..." Blade muttered out in vain towards convincing Beauty to back up off her, scrapping her boots against the floor as she was effortlessly schlepped up to her feet before being lugged off of those feet into as about as unaffectionate a hug as you could imagine. Blade flinching in anguish from the squeezing pressure of the brutal bearhug, her legs hiked up to the sides of Beauty's waist and agonized face mushed against her broad shoulder. The full bloom of her royal breasts squishing Blade's more modest offering...as if Blade didn't already have enough of an inferiority complex with this chick.

”Oh, no, I insist!”

With Blade within her grasp, Beauty proceeded to pour on the pressure, making to really jam her forearm into the smaller woman’s back, applying the maximum pressure - for a moment. The trick with a good bearhug, in her opinion was to deliver the pain in jolts, releasing and squeezing and releasing and squeezing, alternating with the pressure to keep from getting too tired or letting her get used to the pain.

But what she loved most about the hold was the more intimate nature it allowed. Beating Blade wasn’t merely about physically dominating her, but wearing away on that indomitable spirit. And she had a few ideas on how to get that done.

”I really do have to thank you for this, Blade.” She whispered in her foe’s ear and gave her another stiff squeeze. ”I’ve missed you dearly, I won’t lie. Crushing Panther, nearly breaking her in half, it was quite an experience, and I might do it again someday...but I must say, no one suffers quite as well as you. Giving me all the time in the world to rip you apart was generous, thank you.”

She perked up and began to swing Blade around, jerking her spine this way and that. ”By the by, any requests once I start powerbombing? I’ve so many variations I want to try on you, but if you have any preferences, I’m sure I could slip in one or two.”

Goddamn torturous...that's what it was. Oh, not the bearhug, though that was excruciating in it's own right. Being subjected to Beauty's faux mollycoddling and sadistically affectionate psychobabble was the true source of Blade's torment. The smug narcissist never did miss an opportunity to kick dirt in the eyes of the Aerial Artist whenever she was down...sometimes literally. Sheesh...it was like fighting off some...aristocratic stalker who thought Blade gets turned on herself from being brutalized by her. Blade always knew Beaut was certifiable, but she was really starting to lay it on thick and make this hugging squeeze just as awkwardly uncomfortable as it was painfully unbearable. What the hell was Beauty's deal recently, anyway...

Regardless, Blade hated how freaking embarrassing it was to be entrapped in such a rudimentary but dangerous submission maneuver. Her slackened mass stiffening with every infrequent reaffirmation of the bearhug that squeezed their breasts together, the flustered Okinawan awash in not only her own misery but the irritatingly aromatic scent of Beauty' fragrant perfume. At least until Beauty's overstepped some boundaries with that mouth of hers."...how'z about...the one...where I tug back on your hair and punch you in the freaking throat?" Blade whispered back under her breath before making good on that threat, tugging back on her flowing mane and clocking her square in the neck.

”I was thinking we could do the Throwaway Powerbomb first, see how far I can toss you this time. I’m thinking at least ten feet, if I get a running start. Oh, and I’ve been meaning to try the Reverse Powerbomb on you, though I want to do that one in the ring, first. And the Spin Out Powerbomb, that’s a fun one. Oh, you’re so light, and there’s so many opportunities…”

God, how much she’d missed this. While she had powerbombed plenty of people since and Blade last shared a ring, none were quite as good for it as this little hellion. So easy to lift, tough enough to take a good number, and she made just the best screams on the way down...perfect. Absolutely perfect. In fact, she’d been meaning to hold her powerbomb spree for the latter half of the match, after she’d thoroughly seized the reigns. But the more she talked about it, the more she wanted to have a quick taste…

She’d been so wrapped up in her own world that she paid little mind to what Blade was saying or doing, all the way up until her hair was yanked back, putting her delicate and expensive perm in danger. Before she could do anything about that, her throat was a struck with a hard blow, one that left her choking and coughing and, more importantly, forced her to let Blade go as she massaged her neck.

Desperate times, desperate measures...and all that jazz. But even if Blade wasn't on the verge of being squeezed into slumbering passivity via the haughty powerhouse's unbearable bearhug...clocking this pretentious bitch in the throat would have happened regardless. Not just for being the bane of her wrestling existence for who knows how long, but for making a point of targeting her closest of friends solely to get under the Aerial Artist's skin. The idea of Beauty brutalizing any more of closest compatriots was like pouring gasoline on the flickering flame being snuffed out in that bearhug. Whether it would end up being Risako...Kishima.......Chizuru...wait why was she thinking about her in the middle of all this?

The immediate slack given from the bearhug was the sweetest of freedoms, Blade shclumping down to her feet before propping herself against the barricade. She slung her arms over the top as she wheezed heavily, ecstatic fans patting her on her shoulders and bellowing words of drunken encouragement like they were her corner ring coaches in a boxing match. The rebellious tomboy looking like she had just been put through the wringer, but several solid minutes of being on the receiving end from Beauty will do that to you. Blade summoned the energy to straighten out her noodily legs and take off sprinting towards the Beaut, twirling herself around while going upside-down and snagging Ichigaya's neck between her thighs. One spin...Two spin...Three spins and more being taken in her patented Blade-arana signature move before flinging Beauty headfirst into the steel steps.

Beauty would have loved to zone in on Blade and figure out just what the little urchin was up to, but unfortunately she was a tad preoccupied at the moment, what with the problems she had from barely being able to breathe. While Blade’s tenacity was one of her more attractive features, making her a perfect target for a powerbombing run, it was easy to forget how annoying it could be, too - the trick was going to be figuring out how to hurt her so bad that she couldn’t fight back, but not so bad that things stopped being fun. Quite the conundrum.

But she was getting out of it now, straightening up, clearing her, throat, and…

”Bwah!”

That single syllable was all she had the time to utter before Blade’s legs wrapped around her throat in a tight grip, catching her wholly off guard. The hellion spun around her in a blur, gathering momentum, then spending it all to send Beauty hurtling forward, a rush of momentum she couldn’t hope to combat. She shrieked as she was sent right into the nearest steps, barely able to get her hands up in time to mitigate some of the damage.

Some. Her head still crashed hard into the stairs, and she went toppling over, head over heels, coming own for a hard crash on the floor. That was where she stayed for the moment, too, as she rolled around, clutched her aching forehead, groaned, and cursed life in general.

Unbeknownst to either Uehara or Ichigaya, someone well known to both of them was in the stands at that moment, watching the match intently.

Panther Risako was amazed that no one had recognized her so far-- the addition of a simple pair of glasses, plus the fact that she was wearing a regular blouse and jeans instead of her regular faux-fur ring gear, may have had something to do with it. Although she hadnt exactly announced her presence, though, she had already told Uehara well in advance that she would be watching this match. She just never said from how far away. True, she could have watched this on TV, but that wouldn't have been good enough: she need to be here, at the ringside, watching her tag partner in person.

And so far, Uehara was kicking ass. Risako smiled as she watched Uehara send Ichigaya flying into the steel steps, brutally punishing the woman who had become a foe to both of them. That's it, Kyouko, you can do this Risako thought. You can win this, I know you can.

Beauty can take some solace in the fact that she wasn't the only one suffering from wobbly discombobulation after spinning around like a top for so long. When performed at her own leisure and not after having just been rag-dolled about before having the life squeezed out of her, Blade can walk away from this whirlwind maneuver with a relatively stable balance to her posture. But right now...she was lucky to manage standing upright after sending the narcissistic beaut flying headfirst into a rather nasty face on metal collision. She clawed at the ring apron while massaging the area around her lower lumbar where Ichigaya's arms were tightened like a noose, seething and flustered from the burning remnants of that bearhug and the flowery nothingness whispered into her ear.

"...nnghmf...you got some major freaking intimacy problems, you know that?" Blade grumbled out whilst drunkenly hobbling over towards the languishing Beaut, the scruffy-haired tomboy tugging Beauty upward by her irritatingly majestic hair into a wrangling headlock against her sideboob. One meant to escort the blonde over towards the than vacated announcer's table, where she would lay the narcissist out and waylay her with three damn satisfying punches straight to that snobbish face of hers just to keep her nice and stunned, docile, rattled, and most importantly, unlikely to move from this...exact...spot.