John Carnaby vs Eliza Harenwood - The Challenge Ahead

She really didn’t want to do this.

It took a lot of effort for her to actually accept the challenge and get ready for combat. It had all felt familiar to when she was just starting. The first match when she was in that old red leather corset. The nerves she had when she was about to pass the AFW curtain for the first time and step in the same ring as his ex-boyfriend. But such nerves would be complemented with enthusiasm, expectation and excitement to do battle.

And yet now, as the Dancing Passion stands in front of the tall mirror, the feeling was mostly negative. Halloween had just come, and management caught wind to a particular Twitter conversation which gave them the idea of setting a match. With no other way to bill what would have been a throwaway match, they decided to go all-in on this. Controversial but that is the game of management. Hence it is no surprise as to Eliza’s costume at the moment. Playing up as the dead bride, it blended the two concepts of showiness and practicality. It wasn’t any different to the corset that she wears, the usual stockings would be forgone with some white fishnets. Ballet shoes that she hasn’t worn in a while would mark the first time Eliza wore any footwear. But it had another meaning to it. They were the ones she used when dancing with Ryan one time. A fact John wouldn’t pick up as he wasn’t there. But she knew Ryan would be watching.

Glamorous as she looked, the lack of a smile was the only thing that was absent. In a way, it perhaps fitted with the costume. A massive contrast to the bold and confident Lady of War she has grown up to. By all accounts, it was terrible timing. The idea of duelling with John Carnaby, a good friend of Ryan, for the first time even was a prospect that she wouldn’t pass upon.

That was if it was back in those days when they were known as UK Elite. Times have changed since then, and they weren’t the same people the Aristocrat respected and held to a high standard. With all that had happened since their dramatic change of character, Eliza had enough. When she did those tweets, it was to put an end to this peacefully. However, words wouldn’t sway Ryan back from such a path, and there would be only one way to do so.

Settle it in the ring.

The Dancing Passion thought she had the resolve, but her soul was conflicted. She wasn’t sure how to go about it, and while she had a gameplan, her mind was in no state to concentrate. Near on the verge of tears, the door would knock, taking her mind away from her internal thoughts: from a stagehand, no less. It must have been time to do battle. Then so be it.

Ms Harenwood would take a deep breath in, closing her eyes before exhaling. She grabbed her phone nearby on the dressing table, scrolling to an app before quickly typing. All the while, another knock would be heard. “In a bloody second!” Rather unbecoming for a lady, but what she wanted to do was important. And would only take a second. Once that was done, Eliza would move to the door to exit, leaving her phone there. She wanted to send a tweet—one before she would meet the artist.

The Tweet:

The orchestra complemented the setting with the lavish dancing hall, considering they didn’t have much time to set everything else up other than the ring. They began playing a tune that wasn’t the usual theme that John would be expecting. But rather something else. Filled with dread and sorrow. The Dancing Passion would come from the curtain, without a rose or a fan in hand. Dancing in a way that was unlike the passionate and soulful tones of flamenco. More a mix of ballet and contemporary, her movements telling a different story as she waltzes down the ramp. It showed the pain, affliction and struggle that was going on in her soul. All told in dance form, well documented than what her face would show. No words were spoken, letting the music and her practised steps convey the message. As an artist, John would know what it all means.

Sum vobis mortuus ei:

She would slide from under the ropes, her body looked like it was writhing in agony, before she would rise in a handstand, returning to standing position in short order. She stood in the middle of the ring, facing the man that she once held high regards. Eliza just stared at him, as if unsure as to what to say to him right now.

“John…” Was all that came from her lips.

For such a spectacle to take place on Halloween of all days, neither person in the ring looked like wanted to be here. There are many underlying issues beneath the surface that the moment Eliza and John meet, it created a bit of awkwardness. Both knew each other in the past, it was hardly the reunion that they had wished for. However, the Dancing Passion had to do this. Someone has to put a stop to this madness the WWB was causing. And it had to be her. Actions conveyed much more than what words can do. Her moves had a message. One that John would at least see. Ryan too. Of course, he would be watching this. Wherever it was here in this hall or on the T.V remains to be seen.

The British Aristocrat’s face was solemn, unsure what to say to John. She at least considered him as a friend. But with all of this happening, everything was blurred. How should she feel towards him? As a combatant sure but as a hated foe? A friend? Well, from what John had spoken, he had given her his viewpoint towards the Darling of Tension. Blunt. Direct. Missing the point.

“…”

No words came out from Eliza’s mouth, but her eyes told a different story. They never left on John, even as her leg came back, drawing a perfect arc on the canvas with the toe. The Darling of Tension stood straight, readying herself for battle. While Eliza would usually be the one to throw the first strike, she dared not to. She knew John’s gameplan, after all.

Though there is another reason as to why she didn’t take the first step. As if she was trying to hold something back…

Frankly, there was so much to say. Especially to John with everything that is going on. It’s just that Eliza chose not to. It would be a waste of time doing so; nothing would have the Scribe change his mind. Regrettably, Eliza must fight the man who she always thought of as a friend. The Dancing Passion felt as if she must restrain herself, lest she lets her own emotions get the best of her. It had happened when Sin kept pushing her buttons to the point she exploded and consumed the Korean in flames. While one could argue the Korean did deserve that, a tiny part of her felt horrible. As if a beast was waiting to be unleashed, and it just needed the trigger. A newfound power within the Dancing Passion, perhaps?

Maybe she’ll find the answer here in this match. She didn’t fear that John would act unaccordingly and without honour. But this is not the same John Carnaby from UK Elite; this is different. Eliza must approach with caution.

Hence why she hasn’t made the first move. It was perhaps something John expected, a straight kick from the legendary legs of Eliza and catching them. She was as calm. Serene as the still water while John would edge in closer. Getting right into range, even more so that Eliza couldn’t make a swift kick from a reasonable distance. And then that arm came, the Darling of Tension quick to follow up on it.

A hand came out, Eliza snatching at John’s wrist, widening her stance a tad bit. Before John could react, the Dancing Passion twisted his arm to have him pitch forward. And if he’s not willing to comply, Eliza sought to swing that deadly leg in a low arc, aiming the tip of the pointe right to the tender part that is the back of John’s knee.

Something to prove that she’s motivated enough.

Hook, line and sinker.

Eliza wasn’t usually one that would bait out an opponent’s offence. Usually, the Dancing Passion would be the aggressor early on and have people reeling from a well-placed kick famed all over Tension. Even John Carnaby knew that he must avoid getting hit. Otherwise, he would be in whole new worlds of trouble. But while that is the reason for Eliza’s success and stardom, it was a curse. People will become wise to your strategy, and they will take advantage of one’s pitfalls. And the Scribe wasn’t one to be forgiving when it came to mistakes. His grappling is still a threat, and Ms Harenwood can’t afford one of, if not both, her legs being captured.

This is why the Darling of Tension laid the bait and remained patient. Let John come to her instead. And once his guard is down, attack.

While the arm twist is slightly out of character, even though Eliza took Self-defence classes, the kick to the knee wasn’t. Eliza didn’t twist the arm too hard, but enough that he’d feel discomfort. Enough for the joints to creak. Eliza didn't hate John, but she has to do what she must to stop him. He's that blockade that is stopping her to get to Ryan. And regrettably, if she must strike him down, then so be it. The Undead Aristocrat could only hope that fire doesn't consume him too...

The Dancing Passion would not play to his assumptions, pulling the carpet from under him and taking the Scribe down. Bringing him to kneel. Right in front of the Aristocrat. It would have incensed many who held pride within themselves, having been brought to a lowly position.

But John wasn’t going to simply kowtow to Eliza. And she was banking on it. Seeing that hand reaching up towards her, Eliza raised her knee straight up towards his chin, just to stop any sort of ideas he had in mind. On the decent, Eliza sought to stomp John’s hand down to the canvas before another knee came up to the jaw. Seeking to get him loopy enough for Eliza to lift that leg up high, almost coming up to her body before dropping it down like a guillotine and driving him down to the ground.

She didn’t wish to hurt the man, but she must. After all, this was to test her resolve enough to take on her former flame, her ex-boyfriend being Ryan. Of course, in normal circumstances, John would have felt the full force of her devastating strikes. Taking control, giving him no quarter, is the only way she could keep her dominance going. Rocking his head a few times with those knees before that educated leg swung down onto his neck, sending him crashing down to the mat. It was quite like her High Note move, one she used on the King one time. Striking the gut before clonking him behind his head. There were many dangerous manoeuvres that Eliza has never gotten the chance to pull out; perhaps they could come out in this match. Time will tell if she needs them.

“Of course you’re not.” She said matter-of-factly. The Dancing Passion knew this wasn’t going to take him out. John was more substantial than most; Eliza knew that more than anyone. Which means she has to do all that she could to wear him down. As much as the British Aristocrat has gotten much better with her potent kicks, she has still never forgotten her ground game. Submissions used to sap their energy more to further hack away at them with her kicks.

And for a grappling scion like John, something simple wasn’t going to cut it.

Eliza moved over him, bringing one of his legs between hers as she sought to wrap those lethal legs around John. Making sure that he would end up with one arm and leg trapped between the crushing pressure of the Aristocrat’s Vice Grip. Not to say the other leg would remain free, the Undead Ballerina wrapped her arm and pulled it towards her, adding a stretch to the equation.

Making John Carnaby into a human pretzel. Which, funny enough, is what the position is called.