SS 19 Blade Uehara vs. Beauty Ichigaya

Beauty was of a mind to see the fruits of her labor, having just dumped BLade hard and finally giving some humiliation back to the woman who was so fond of dishing it out. She was prepared to do just, when she noticed the pair of trollops scurrying off, too idiotically dressed bimbos. Tempting as it was to clobber them for the fun of it, she wouldn’t indulge. One thing at a time.

She shrugged and reached to the side as the women scooted off, getting a grip on the edge. With a contemptuous shove, she hurled it aside, letting all the food scatter about the floor and clearing out some space.

”Well,” She strutted over to her foe, hands on hips. ”I do hope all of this is making things clear to you, Blade. I can’t imagine a better way to teach this lesson.”

Confident in her position, she stood over her opponent and reached down to flip her on her back wanting to make sure she was seen as she loomed large.

”You can’t beat me, Uehara.” She reached down and lashed out with a hard slap to the urchin’s chin. ”You never could.” And a backhand to follow up with that, nailing both cheeks. Not enough to make this woman quit outright, she knew that, but this sort of match was all about eroding the will of an opponent, making them think their situation was hopeless. What better way to further that endeavor than by solidifying dominance.

Blade was, much to her irritated chagrin, acutely aware of the catering facilities after having spent many an unbooked night there flicking paper footballs out of sheer boredom when not indulging herself on the rather scrumptious delectables AFW has on their menu. Although she figured not even their heralded chicken sandwiches and potato wedges were going to cheer her up after being dumped through one of their tables like a sack of potatoes. All the various food stuffs exploding into the air with hungrier bystanders bemoaning the waste of perfectly good meals. Blade remaining buried beneath both sides of the broken table with an outfit slathered in potato salad and meatball sandwiches. It was as gross as it sounded, which was less gross than it actually felt...

Being unearthed from what looked like pig slop and twirled about gave Blade some semblance of horrible clarity whist spread-eagled and flinching from the fluorescent lighting. She recognized that pompous, condescending voice and looming shadow anywhere, but she'd be getting a stiff reminder via the hand and backhand of the vainglorious beaut. The Okinawan suffering the debasing smacks snapping her head either direction as if Ichigaya were disciplining some mangy lowlife, than turning to her side after the backslap to shield her stinging face with a gloved hand. Blade's brow knit tightly, facials scrunching in embarrassment from being made to look and feel like nothing. She meekly turned her head to lock eyes with Beauty, cheeks blushed red with teeth-gnashing grit before abruptly pie-facing Beauty with a disgustingly sloppy yet delicious meatbull sub sandwich~...

To no small surprise, slapping Blade was infinitely satisfying. Quite cathartic. After all the trouble that this woman had given her in this match alone, it was good to have the upperhand and be firmly in control, putting the urchin where she belonged. While she would never think of herself as dominatrix, she couldn’t deny the thrill she received from being on top of a match, having her foe firmly under her thumb with no reservations. ”I must say, Blade.” She started to wind up for another slap, drawing her hand far back to produce some real momentum. ”This new look quite suits-”

What little of a taunt Beauty had left was interrupted when Blade slapped her in the face with, of all things, a meatball sub. A tasty one, too, as far as she could tell from the bits of it that got into her mouth, but she was a little busy having her eyes filled with the gunk to truly appreciate it.

Shrieking, she released Blade and stepped away, frantically wiping the muck out off her face, and more importantly, her hair. She could worry about dealing more damage to her foe in a moment - there wouldn’t be much of a fight if she couldn’t see. ”You disgusting, grubby, scruffy, little-”

Ugh, and this sub had extra olives on it, too. Who put this many olives on a sandwich? Ugh.

You'd think that someone who was so acutely experienced in fighting dirty would have seen Blade's patented Meatball Sandwich Strike coming...but she figured anyone with an ego as gargantuan as Beauty's leads to obvious countermeasures going unnoticed. Not when she's so busy relishing in the carnage she 's wrought, and savoring Blade's despondent misery from above. But the Okinawan Eagle was not so frazzled and beat down that she couldn't ketchup before the night was over. Food puns aside...Blade took advantage of all that arrogant gloating to muster up some strength and pie Beauty in the face with whatever she could get her hands on.

"...you're no better than me...you arrogant...royal pain in my ass..." Blade seethed out while wearily struggling to right herself back to her feet, her spine killing her from that power-bomb but she willed herself onward knowing this could very well be her last shot at getting herself back into this match where the stakes could not have been higher. She wobbled over towards the blinded narcissist for a double handed clasp onto that oh-so precious golden mane of hers, than not so politely escorting her to the nearest buffet table. Perusing it's tabled contents until she snarked from the perfect dish to "serve" her arrogant adversary...Blade than pitching Beauty's head back before smashing it into a platter of what looked like the most topping slathered plate of nachos, thoroughly rubbing her face in it's greasy goodness before letting her go.

”-insufferable, misbegotten, mangy LETGOOFMYHAIRLETGOOFMYHAIRLETGOOFMYHAIR-”

It wasn’t enough that Blade had to and mess up her makeup with this nasty mess, but then she had to go and target her hair, as well. Unlike the unkempt pile that was sitting on Blade’s head, Beauty took time and effort to live up to her namesake, often spending a solid hour every day to make sure her curls were in their perfect state. It was a gift she gave freely to the world, and now this ruinous little rat was ravaging them with her grubby hands!

Humiliating as that was, it was nowhere near as distressing as what came next, as Beauty was lead off to the side, flailing about, trying in vain to get her strands free. Blade took the opportunity through even more food into her face - nachos this time, if her taste buds were correct - mashing them and rubbing them over her features for good measure. Hardly the most pleasant experience, but there was a bright side to it: She was quite sure of her opponent’s position now.

Tapping into her rage, Beauty swung her arms about in wild, thuggish swipes, hoping one of the clubbing blows would hit her opponent. That was the good thing about the difference in strength between them - it didn’t matter so much how often she hit Blade. One good strike would always do the trick.

Blade had no idea what this insufferable pride queen was screeching. All of those seething, long-winded, multi-syllabic words...Blade was somewhat honored that Beauty went to the trouble of thinking of so many terms to describe her. She might have even knew what a few of them meant had she been able to hear them amidst the pie-faced Nacho Bell Grande being mushed into Beauty's smug facials. Mashing this rich bitch's pompous visage into the oleaginous snack food was beyond cathartic. See? Blade knew some fancy sounding words too. And she was intent on on introducing the Beaut to the rest of the buffet table face-first.

"Tryin to teach me a lesson, ya say?! Well it's a good thing I never paid attention in class, teach!!!" Blade snarled out in the middle of her demeaning meal plastering, of course only tightening her grip on Beauty's golden locks the more she protested. But, regrettably, it wasn't a grip centered on restraining those flailing arms of hers. Beauty perhaps not knowing where she was swinging given the flavored gunk in her eyes, but intentionally or not...one of the Beaut's hammering fists socked Blade right in the crotch and winded her something awful. The Okinawan gasping out loud and collapsing into a fetal position, hands shielding her aching...aching, nethers.

Cast a wide enough net and you will catch fish. Swing your arms around enough and you will hit Blade Uehara.

It took more than a few tries, more than she cared to admit, but Beauty finally struck paydirt after flailing about, landing a solid hit on….well, she couldn’t tell what she hit precisely, but it seemed to hurt Blade quite a lot, so she would take whatever it was. More importantly it gave Beauty a bit of a reprieve, one that she gladly took to get her eyes nice and clear, rubbing them and spitting out the vile tastes brewing between her lips. When she got one eye clear, she was gifted with a lovely sight - Blade on the floor, writhing about in agony. Quite the sight, but Beauty knew hardly looked better after that food fight. She was in dire need of haircare, and while they were at it, there were a few things she wanted to discuss with the hooligan. ”Let’s you and I have a chat, Blade.”

Reaching down, she seized Blade by her shorthairs, gripped tight, and marched across the hallway towards the nearest dressing room. Kicking it open, she sent the hussies inside running with what few clothes they had on at the time, then marched inside with her opponent in toe, slamming the door shut behind them and locking it.

The moment they had the room to themselves, she let Beauty go and grabbed a towel off a nearby mirror, furiously rubbing it across her face in a wild effort to clear her stained features.

Blade didn't have the specifics of it, or have any reason to explain how it was even possible given Beauty's vision was engulfed in nacho flavored delicacies. But she just knew that the Beaut must have done that shit on purpose. Call it spiteful clairvoyance, or just plain seething rage, but Blade refused to believe Beauty didn't just so happen to nail her right in her lady parts. She could figure out the logistics of how she did it later on, but right now she was kinda sorta dealing with the hobbling agony betwixt her thighs at the moment. The side of her grimacing face compressed against the cold floor as she coped with the pain until Beauty returned the hair-pulling favor and hauled Blade upward, staggering beside her with scant resistance being levied against her...

...except for the camera crew recording the match and following them along until they too were abruptly cutoff from the action upon Beauty abruptly slamming the door shut in their camera lens. A key card from a lady performer being needed to open it from the outside, which sent the producers panicking to cut to commercial until they could get inside somehow. Blade herself stumbling to the side until she ended up standing next to a couch, wincing with a cocked eyebrow at the baffling course of actions Beauty was taking all of a sudden. "You...You kidding me? You beat the shit outta me...You target my friends...You try to kick me out of wrestling twice...and now you let me go and you're toweling yourself off in the middle of our match in...in...where the hell are we anyway??!!" Blade barked out while glancing all around the dressing room, confused and agitated...but mainly agitated.

Finally.

Beauty Ichigaya had been waiting for this moment for a while now - the chance to get Blade Uehara alone. It seemed that any other time, there were always going to be cameras around. It was the life of a wrestler, to always be on the screen, to have the world sharing so many of your moments. Chances like this, with true privacy, were are a precious rarity, and it wasn’t as if Blade would’ve allowed such a moment any other time. The enmity between them saw that.

But now, they were alone, and Beauty had the chance to show her greatest rival something she hadn’t ever had the chance to show her before. To express herself in ways that had previously been forbidden. To do something she wished she’d had the chance to do long ago.

Instead of answering Blade’s word with a reply, she wiped the last bit of gunk out of her face, spun about, and marched over to her diminutive opponent, a wicked grin on her face. Reaching out, she wrapped her arms around Blade’s head and pulled her in for a kiss.

A long, loving passionate kiss.

*..Tch...Ain't this a bitch...* Blade eloquently internalized as she spied their surroundings and eventually recognized it as one of the dressing rooms for the A-list talent, and basically high-end accommodations for those snobbish wrestlers who thought they were better than everyone else. So of course this was where Beauty had ended up dragging her off to. But at least Blade was able to ascertain the where answer amongst her rapidfire stream of thoughts, now she just wanted the why answer, already. The Okinawan scanning the room for possible weapons that Beauty was potentially going to bash her with before turning her grimacing attention towards the encroaching Beaut, no doubt getting ready for something.

"I dunno what you're game is, but don't think I'm just gonna...wait...waitwhatareyoudoin-" Blade's boiling temperament going from steadfast alertness to immediate confusion with Beauty approaching her with zero malicious intent, her snarling words petering out and reflecting her sudden bewilderment. And then Ichigaya laid one on her and from there she had nothing. No explanation, no answer, no snarky retort. Just Beauty lovingly smooching her loathed? rival whose eyes were stark-eyed and arms flailing behind the Beaut, briefly pounding at her back before they just clamped onto her white jacket. The muffled outrage waning as Blade tasted the refined elegance on her lips, eventually starting to melt into the smooch with a fluttering of her eyes, and humming reciprocation in the open-mouth kiss between mortal enemies.