Bunnies and Death don’t make a good mix: Eshe Abdallah vs. Death Bunny

Managing to hold the actual embodiment of Death was definitely a highlight, even this early into the match. It was honestly startling how quiet they were being despite torquing their leg muscles to the highest degree. DB had certainly earned her respect there but it was also possibly because she didn’t want to show weakness and to a newbie of all things. She could understand that sentiment but she was working in maybe’s, not actual fact. Eshe couldn’t but wonder what it was the revenant could possibly be thinking about. The Egyptian had a basic idea but she’d rather not repeat it. The violet could feel the tension as she released their leg and wrenched the one still in her possession hard. Rolling backwards just a bit down their spine to reposition herself, she senses she was really working over their leg but how long could she keep this up?

A slam on the mat startled her slightly. Her violets peeled behind her to see a fist planted into the canvas. Death Bunny was getting angry, that much she could tell but what was she going to do from there? Her question was answered as she found herself slowly being lifted up off the mat. Her pools went wide as they suddenly turned her over onto her back, her violets now obstructed from the bright lights overhead was in awe. How was she the one down now? This didn’t make much sense, however she didn’t have much time to consider much of anything else as The Grim Hopper scrambled to take position. A soft gasp of air leaves her lips as DB seats herself on her chest, squeezing out more air from her lungs. She could only look up at the dark shroud above her, her arms pinned from the weight on top.

What was she planning? The vibration and the faint sound of counting alerted her, this wasn’t just a new position to work from, this was a pin!

”Two!”

Wha?! Two? Where was one? Eshe didn’t have time to worry about that, she needed to get out of this. She couldn’t let herself be taken down from being flipped over. Pressing her boots into the canvas, she would harshly push up, bucking her hips to prop up her shoulder to break the pin.

Typically the exception and not the norm. But occasionally genuine mat wrestling could actually start being portrayed within a federation that more often than not championed carnal sins of the flesh and bone-crunching savagery over chinlocks and grappling mechanics. It certainly wasn't the standard highlight of Death's matches, but here she was engaging in just that after finally circumventing Eshe's killer Boston Crab submission by making use of the added freedom of movement from her opponent transitioning to a single-legged application from a double-legged one. The train of thought being that a double-legged asserts more control of the maneuver in your favor, while single-legged amps up the torqued strain immensely at the expense of sacrificing your centered balance. Death demonstrating that bit of Wrestling Knowledge 101 by willing herself upward and summoning tremendous strength in literally turning Eshe's submission on its head. A tightened application of the schoolgirl pin situating Eshe's head snugly into the, what some would deem desirable, position of between Death's smooth thighs before the Egyptian sprung out of the pinning predicament at the Two count.

The unseated Rabbit Reaper shifting off of her rookie adversary onto her knees, but with a strained flinch from her worked over leg. Eshe had did somewhat of a number on that limb, a fact that Death would admit quite impressed her so far. Nimble and volatile, with an aggravating knack for improvisation and thinking on one’s feet. Newcomers these days were bringing more and more raw talent into the ring everyday, and the athletic Egyptian over here was a bonafide example of just that. But approving pats on the back could be doled out once the match was concluded, and after D.B.'s arm would be raised over the lifeless Egyptian. Death spending little time in flipping Eshe over on to her front side a few seconds after the interrupted pin count, seamlessly covering her from behind from the back of her head to toe. One arm after the another beginning to squirm underneath Eshe armpits with what was an unintentionally cheesecake vision from behind of Eshe's plump derriere being hugged down on by Death's jean-clad crotch and inner thighs. The Grim One huffing through her soft lips before locking in the Full Nelson she was wriggling her hands before interlocking them behind Eshe's neck, upon which attempting to gradually haul her foe up in the arm dangling submission..

In those short moment, Eshe had to recount how she even ended up in this position in the first place. Pale thighs hugging her face, making her a bit uneasy as she felt it’s crushing force powered behind a two count. Her fierce buck managed to save her from a quick defeat, she didn’t expect this sudden turn but it made her realize the severity of her opponent. She knew from the beginning what she was up against, the Grim Hopper made her presences very clear about her objective but having just been pinned so easily, Eshe was well aware how quick Death Bunny could finish her if she wasn’t on her guard. The Egyptian didn’t have a chance however, she didn’t get the opportunity to even pull herself up before being flipped onto her stomach. Eshe made an attempt to push forward but she felt those strong pale arms squirm underneath her shoulders, locking under her armpits before intertwining in her violet hair. They came down for her, a slight blush, which she never expected to come out, crossed her cheeks as she felt their legs squeeze her body against their core. What kind of joke was this? Were they trying to embarrass her or taunt her? The violet wasn’t exactly sure nor did she have the appropriate thinking space as she was hauled up, her neck and arms strained in a rather brutal Full Nelson.

It was uncomfortable, very uncomfortable all things considered. The hold limited her options of escape, and the slight tinge of pain began to work its way out through her system. Her rump grinding against her dangerous foe, struggling vigorously to break free. Panicking for freedom, she suddenly remembered Hoshino’s escape, could it work here too? Eshe wasn’t sure but there was no harm in trying(or so she thought)! With a soft grunt, she grabs hold of the pair of hands interlocked behind her neck. The violet then bends herself forward, pressing her bottom against their center, her left foot makes a break for it, attempting to shift behind their own left leg. If she was quick on the uptake, the Egyptian would fiercely throw herself up, hoping to throw the Grim Hopper away and forcing them to stumble on her foot to trip.

Rabbit analogies aside about Death pouncing upon a weakened foe or jumping into action, the remarkable swiftness with which D.B. closed the distance between herself and Eshe indicated perhaps a slight sliver of mutual respect being fostered amongst workplace employees. Death not remembering off the top of her bunny-eared head the last time she'd been relying so heavily upon her grappling acumen when typically that style is interspersed with brawling fisticuffs and overall steamrolling others with sheer brute force. Not to say those tactics won't become savagely reincorporated later on, but for now she sought to honor Eshe's choice to refrain from having the match degenerate into a straight up slugfest. Although Death assumed that this was merely Eshe having the common sense not to try and out-brawl someone whose regarded as a legend/urban myth of the underworld fighting scene...

Regardless, Eshe was capitalized upon with ensnaring strength and malicious intent behind it. Death affixing her hands behind Ashe's neck which started amplifying the angled discomfort immediately, well before she'd begin uplifting the Egyptian off of the canvas at D.B.'s insistence. Being entrapped within the Full Nelson can become comparable to being locked in the pillory. In that one was prostrated on shameful display before the world at large and rendered seemingly helpless from the dangled lifelessness of their arms, except that now there was genuine concern of you becoming rendered unconscious if you didn't figure out an escape plan right fast and in a hurry. Death could definitely tell that Eshe was scheming just that given all of the struggling and squirming going on that lead to what the Macabre Hare assumed was unintentionally twerking friction between her supple rump and Death's crotch snugly nestled against it.

At least for Eshe's sake she assumed that was the case. Death grimacing behind a crimson hue on her facials but nevertheless curtailed the rookie's sly maneuverings by ruthlessly swiveling her adversary about side by side several times to whittle her down moreso, but in effect exerting herself as well. Death bearing down on Eshe from behind with a lengthened pant breathed down the back of her neck meant to psyche herself before abruptly thrusting the Egyptian skyward until her legs were extended into the air. All before getting served undoubtedly the worst seat in the house in Death's attempt at her Bunny Tail Breaker signature maneuver with Eshe at the very least getting the release from the submission. Just not in the fashion she may have preferred.

The Egyptian wasn’t sure if her attempt at freedom would bear her any success. She didn’t think for a second her squirming could be taken as anything else other then a bid to escape. That was until she attempted to break free with a maneuver she fell for with Hoshino. The violet could only try, her willpower would do the rest. Just as she bent forward, pressing her rump against thier center, The Deathly Hare shook her violently. Her world began to blur as she was slung side to side, her head spinning, whipping with each sudden pull. Her arms and back were beginning to feel the wear and tear but it was her neck that was in the worse pain of it all. Like a dog maliciously swinging a toy, Eshe was limp in their grip. Now disoriented and left befuddled with her current situation she was useless to herself, breaking free right now wasn’t an option.

Her skin stands on end as she feels them pant against the back of her neck. Her breath hitched in her throat as her heart dropped. What was this deadly sigh she was feeling? It was like she was about to face an even greater danger. Her instincts were screaming for her to be released, she needed to break free. She was backed into a corner, Eshe shakes harshly, making another bid for freedom, wait...why couldn’t she feel the mat?

With a blink of an eye, she was shot upward, a gasp of surprise left her lips, was she about to be tossed? What was happening? Her mind swirled with possibilities never considering the alternative of what would actually come. Her body comes down, hard and fast, she can’t stop herself. She clenches her eyes, tightening her teeth as she expects a knee. Bone never came though instead she felt the incredible painful spike as her bottom made contact with the mat. Her tailbone explodes as pain flows up her spine, singing the bell in her brain like a carnival game. Her body slumps forward as she’s released. The Egyptian rolls up, cupping her rump, her face dig into the canvas while her feet drum the mat. She didn’t expect this to hurt so bad but pain was all she could think about. What made it worse was how vulnerable she was now. Death Bunny was proving to be as vicious as Sara, the thought of having even more pain inflicted on her bottom didn’t please or ease her fear. She would attempt to roll, roll towards the ropes and escape to the cool concrete below.

As uncomfortably malicious it may initially appear, the ferocious thrashing about in the Full Nelson was preformed more out of necessity than from any sadistic motivations. Whatever infernal maneuverings Eshe was attempting were making the submission that much more strenuous to maintain, and Death knew that eventually she'd be making irksome headway in wriggling her way to freedom. Death felt the Egyptians back muscles tense up whenever she'd start willing herself into resisting once more. Upon which triggering D.B. to begin ruthlessly ragdolling Eshe about from one side to another until the rookie started becoming quietly compliant once again, no doubt leaving her adversary with scrambled thoughts to accompany her out of focus vision. Death remaining unforgivingly vigilant in the oppressive predicament she had Eshe ensnared within, a soft breath panted against the nape of Eshe's neck when it seemed like the rookie was subdued enough to end the submission Death's way.

The Rabbit-Eared Revenant summoning that unnatural strength of hers to hoist Eshe upward with legs kicked out for a stalling second before unceremoniously drilling the Egyptian down back onto the canvas hindquarters first. Cushioned though it was, the meteoric impact generated instant sympathy for Eshe given the thunderous smack and measured distance Eshe gained from bouncing off her backside like that. But of course, there were those less empathetic who instead oogled the frazzled rookie palming her derriere. Eshe either unaware or uncaring for the optics of it all as her feet pitter-pattered against the canvas.

*...Hmm, girl's got moxie. Here's hoping that took some of the starch out of that cowlick.* Death pondered before twirling herself around so she'd become propped up on one knee, exhaling her own fatigued pant as she opted to catch her breathe rather than immediately continue the hunt. Thrashing the rookie all about took some of the wind out of her sails too, but as Eshe began to roll out of the ring, so did Death follow. An eerie gait to her slow-paced stalking as she remained fixated on the floundering rookie all throughout. Death taking her time in hopping down from the ring apron with a wafting hand passed through her hair, afterward escorting Eshe back to her feet by tugging on her hair with a secured front headlock to keep her vertical. Hooking Eshe's arm around Death's neck and tugging up on the side of her tights being the foreshadowing motions of D.B. seemingly attempting a stalled vertical suplex, but would instead be Eshe being teetered forward and abdomen first upon the barricade in front of the audience.

Her poor bottom cried in pain as she palms the pain away, her pitter-pattering feet now locked down onto the canvas. Eshe made a call to roll for the safety of the outside ring, she could have a moment to recover. It was odd when she put a bit of thought to it, the irony of a Rabbit chasing the Cat instead of the other way around. This felt like a sense of irony all to real and less funny then anyone would really think. As she rolled off the side of the apron, she caught a glimpse of her attacker following her, intending to continue their hunt. Hitting the padded cold floor, the Egyptian, pushes up on her hands and knees, her tailbone was really feeling the effects of the Revenant Bunny’s Bunny Tail Breaker. It was hard to move without a shot of pain running up her spine but she couldn’t exactly roll over for Death now could she?

Speak of the devil, her violets perked up just as Death Bunny slipped out from the ropes after her. Talk about having a vendetta, the Grim Hopper, wasn’t letting up even more a second as she gave chase. She grimaced as she makes a bid to put some distance between them, only instead of making any headway she was unceremoniously pulled to her feet…by her hair of all things. The burning sensation in her scalp forced her to instantly palm at the grip that tugged her up. Why did everyone go for her hair? Wasn’t their some kind of code against that? Sheesh.

Although she’d rather have gotten up on her own, Eshe wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth on this one. She was on her feet now and she was ready for some payback. DB was quick to pull her in for another round of punishment, looping her arm over their neck, her leotard tugged up as the Grim Hopper would lift her up. In that moment her right tanned leg would snake around their calf, halting the Revenants attempt at what could’ve been a defeat sting blow. If she managed to thwart her opponent, she’d turn the tables on them, changing their positions for her to be the recipient of the pain that was to come. Her fingers claw their shirts, tugging them up as they had her leotard. Eshe prayed her counter would bear fruit of success as she dead lifted the violent Rabbit in a vertical suplex position. Whatever they planned on doing, she wouldn’t delay the inevitable, she’d bring them done forward, loosening her grip to send them falling face first towards the cold padded floor if her plan succeeded.

Eshe wasn’t stupid to think that could put them away, she was beginning to understand why she was called the Death Bunny. Her sheer determination to label everything with Death made her body shake with the anticipation she’d get up as if nothing happened. She couldn’t let that happen, the Egyptian would need to act fast; show that she wasn’t just prey but also a predator.

Admittedly, Death's sluggish pace may not be all that appreciated by a ravenous audience far too accustomed to breakneck speeds and acrobatic chicanery. But conserving energy and replenishing her stamina was the name of the game for now. Fewer wrestlers than ever these days tended to appreciate the fact that matches were marathons, not races. And you only end up whittling down your own endurance reserves further by not intentionally slowing down the pace every once in a while. Of course, you risk your adversary recovering in the process, but in the broad scheme of things it was far more likely for you to make a mistake going at Mach 10 than if you were at cruising speeds. Hence why Death was approaching the fleeing Eshe with an otherworldly presence and slogging manner akin to a hockey masked and murderous movie villain. Only with no blood drenched cleaver in hand or any feasible possibility to be starring in a major motion picture.

Death had to give Eshe credit for her tenacity and wise decision making though. Swallowing her pride and retreating to the outskirts of the ring was exactly what D.B. would have done in her wrestling shoes, but the Egyptian appeared to having a difficult time of escaping what with her supple rump having just taken quite the walloping. Death was most definitely going to have make a note of employing that particular move more often in the future. A mental note being taken as she gingerly bunny-hopped down from the ring apron, wafting a hand through her hair and breathing through pursed lips. Casting a bunny-eared shadow over Eshe and taking her time in snatching up her fellow purple-haired grappler, afterward firmly affixing the Egyptian's head underneath her the crook of her arm. A telltale position for a suplexing attempt that would not have ended well for Eshe considering that Death was eyeing the barricade the entire time.

Except that the best laid plans can still be usurped no matter how thoroughly you draw out the schematics. Eshe's hooked leg behind Death's had deftly thwarted the Reaper's malicious machinations, all of her emphatic yanking accomplishing diddly aside from furthering the skintight fabric of Eshe's attire against her bashed backside. At least until the tides were indeed turned, upside down as a matter of fact, via Death being the one abruptly hoisted overhead for a stiffened position regrettably short-lived. Death yelping sharply from the dramatic descent culminating with a slapping flop of a landing. The reaper recoiling immediately up to her knees and seated on her ankles while hugging her midsection. Eyes scrunched and cheeks puffed as she expelled air from literally having the wind knocked out of her alongside having her squished boobs get brutally mashed against the thinly padded flooring. A turn of fortunes Death could have kindly done without...

Determining exactly where she'd messed up with that rudimentary maneuver was taking an immediate backseat to several more concerning issues plaguing Death. Namely the utter lack of breathable air in her lungs after having the wind blasted out of her, gasping and hacking up a storm being clear enough evidence of that. And the anguished misery from having her supple bosom smashed against the floor at what felt like Mach 10. Even tenderly hugging them to a swelled bloom hurt like a mother fucker and did nothing aside from cause ringside fans to briefly gawk while they could considering they certainly didn't want to be caught doing so. Lest they catch the tempestuous ire of one indignantly fuming Bunny-Eared Reaper.

Typically when a predator stalks it's prey, the prey is meant to accept it's role in the naturalistic food chain and get torn to shreds for the betterment of the environment. A lesson that Eshe must have been absent for in High School considering the crafty athlete possessed far more rebellious energy than she portrayed, and used it to usurp nature's law in favor of turning the tables on the apex hunter. And what's more, in a maneuver that was arguably just as, if not more devastating than whatever D.B. had concocted. The Dead Woman could have even been impressed by her ingenuity and tenacity if she weren't seething while envisioning methods of politely repaying Eshe's persistence. Dragging her crotch first along the ropes, testing the flexibility of her spine over Death's waiting knee, or powerbombing the athlete into stupefied puddy all being the more popular options at the moment.

Except that for now Death's only real option was to be subjected to Eshe's tugging motions, D.B. unwillingly escorted back inside of the ring by her adversary's willpower. Haggardly attempting to rise back up to her feet when a squeezed embrace from behind alleviated those efforts by straight up elevating her into the sky. The stark wide-eyed bunny girl swinging one arm over Eshe's neck before getting served one of the more savage seats in the house via her plump backside getting jammed down upon the athlete's waiting knee. Death's grimace being scrunched tightly as she wailed out loud while bunny hopping off of Eshe's knee, briefly standing vertical on the tips of her toes before schlumping forward while gingerly massaging her tightly jeaned and quite thicc rump to an alluring wiggle. The side of her scowling, oddly blushed visage mashed against the canvas with one of her feet bitterly kicking against the canvas.