AV 21 Death Bunny vs Adrian Kytes

Newton's laws of motion bounced Adrian away from the carnage she caused and back towards the uncomfortable but safe ringside floor, a set of metal bars now between her and the Bunny that was bent on her destruction and Adrian couldn't be happier. Okay she could, not having to fight Death Bunny would make her a lot happier, as would not getting kicked in the face or dropped on her neck but thems was the breaks, at least now she could get a moment to breathe in the oxygen that she'd IOU'd her body for in the name of a quick response.

She needed an evening out tool if she wanted to go Head-to-head even with a hurt rabbit and she'd found the hard way that kendo sticks weren't going to cut it, right now distance was the best thing she got while she circled away from where the purple haired phenom had landed, making sure she was the other side of the ring before she dived underneath looking for something metalic thast she couldn't just snap over knee. A hammer maybe? No, it was too unbalanced and she'd be done for gimmick infringement. A pipe? She thought as she peeked out over the ring, checking to see if the Bunny had risen from the crowd before diving back down, a pipe could work. With a quick test of a clang against the ring post the former cosplayer was back in action, twitching around to see where that zombie about to get piped had gone.



...there was probably 15 better ways to phrase that.

Ordinarily, marquee main events such as these are where the premier athletes within the business showcase the wrestling expertise that brought them to the apex of the industry. Whether it was the raw strength to bench-press the announcer's table, the daring acrobatics and wanton disregard for one's own personal safety in order to torpedo yourself at your adversary, or deceiving chicanery meant to weasel yourself out of justified comeuppance. The average betting fan anticipating this to be an uphill battle solely for Adrian, except it was appearing that the struggle was real on both sides of the grappling spectrum. Death being put on the defensive after well-implemented counter after another with no one for consoling company except ravenous fanatics in the front row struggling to get their cell phone cameras out of their pocket.

Several seconds passing from the break in the action as the Bullet Club Leader distanced herself from her adversary as much as feasibly possible in her scavenging scramble underneath the ring apron in search of whatever weaponry she could plunder. Cowardice personified but with the boons she sought for as Adrian emerged with pipe in hand and with sadistic intention behind it...except that behind her, would be Death's elongated shadow. The Bunny Brawler swiftly snatching the pipe out of Adrian's hands in a nostalgic reliving of their cage match last Summer where Death snapped Ade's kendo stick over her knee. Twisting the pipe on both ends unscrewing the steel weapon into two smaller pipes succinctly discarded over Bunny's shoulders. A somewhat comedic callback that meant anything except laughs for the auburn-haired faction leader...

"Eeep!" Adrian squeaked as she was swiftly disarmed of her precious pipe of protection, again denying the black-clad fighter an advantage equaliser. The Death Bunny didn't even hand the broken bits back to her this time! This was bullshit and she let her feelings be known "Oh come on!" the former champ whined in frustration, looking as though she was about to turn and run away from the Grim Hopper yet again. This time however cowardice would show a different form as Adrian turned herself to the side and thrust her foot out, targeting the Bunny's leg as she desperately tried to regain some advantage by kicking the leg out of her leg. She may be a coward but she was a tenacious one and intimidation could make her fight back like a cornered rat instead of a deer in headlights.

Rudimentary knowledge of pipework allowed Death to succinctly de-weaponize the opportunistic faction leader who had perhaps squandered her borrowed time searching for the perfect weapon to brain her adversary with. An acute familiarity with Adrian's overindulgence of unprincipled tactics clued the Reaper in to her potential schemes earlier on while she was recouping behind the barricade. The Rabbit Reaper had long since stopped assuming that Adrian would clean up her wrestling game in any quantifiable aspect, but witnessing her attempt a repeat tactic from their last match made the Reaper wonder if Ade was beginning to scratch the bottom of her bag of tricks. An apathetic shrug offered from D.B. to Adrian and her incessant bitching, a sympathetic gesture to her plight that still wouldn't annul Adrian circumventing Death’s encroaching stride with an impeccably well-placed kick. Knocking one of the Reaper’s legs from under her as she took a knee in seething discomfort.

Adrian's barrel was deeper than anyone could imagine and she wasn't going to be scraping the bottom anytime soon as the Grim Hopper found out to her chagrin. Low kicks like that were one of the more legitimate tools in the former cosplayer's bag of tricks as was the follow up attempt, with the Bunny down on one knee her head was low enough for Adrian to loop her arm over it and snare the purple haired phenom's neck tightly before she threw herself backwards. Prat falling on the outside wasn't the most comforting of prospects but her opponent would be getting the worse out of the deal: a good old-fashioned DDT on the thinly padded floor.

Death would have liked to say that her irrational decision to dismantle the lead pipe rather than brain Adrian upside her freaking head stemmed from some valorous sense of fair-play and noble preservation of the sport's integrity. Except the truth of the matter was that Death sought Adrian's ultimate destruction by her own two macabre hands. And besides, any weapon that dangerous was a liability practically ensured to be used against you eventually. Unfortunately the Bullet Club Commando proved herself a wily and conniving threat even when unarmed as Death hobbled over from the strike to her kneecap. Snatched up in an abrasive front-headlock that she bristled into from being back underneath Adrian's control before getting her skull hammered into the unforgiving flooring. "Hrk!!" The whiplash of being jerked downward causing Death to flop over onto her stomach, cradling her dazed head with scores of fans booing Ade's impeccable ability to weasel her way out of grim situations and well justified comeuppance.

Sitting up on the floor and flipping her hair out of her face, Adrian felt no small sense of satisfaction for laying out her outer demon so effectively. If nothing else could be said about Adrian she did learn from her previous mistakes (as long as it didn't involve deflating her massive ego) and wasn't above baiting people who thought they could predict her into making the same unforced error twice. Yeah, Death Bunny was terrifying and damn near indestructible but all running away was going to do was tire out the former champion. Hiding worked for a time but at some point she needed to take the fight to the Purple haired titan and moves like the DDT were perfect ways to do it.

There was one problem however: Adrian needed to hoist the fallen phenom back in the ring if she wanted to flop the bunny in the casket. "Ugh..." she groaned as she looped Death Bunny's arm over her shoulders, trying to get her up to roll her back onto the apron, maybe give her a forearm smack on the chest for good measure before shoving her back in.

Exceedingly limited though they may be, one admirable trait Death could ascertain from Adrian was her seamless ability to switch between fight or flight mode even when presented with the exact same situational threat. Because Death distinctly remembered the little gremlin cartoonishly scrambling for the exit during their cage match the last time she was disarmed and presented with the option of either fighting fair or hightailing it. Not instinctively taking out Death's height advantage and dunking her skull onto the ringside flooring. Small stopgaps aside, few onlookers could argue with Adrian having been in firm control and in the driver's seat of the entire match so far. A tactical wrestling genius perhaps still buried beneath all the bullshit parlor tricks, petulant arrogance and overpriced Bullet Club merchandise it seemed. A splayed-out Death being ushered back to her feet with a striking forearm winding her moreso with a hacked grunt, fatigued yet compliant with being twirled back inside the ring.

With the undead giant of a woman (at least compared to the light-heavyweight Adrian) back in the ring the former cosplayer scrambled her way up to the apron, feet kicking against the apron as the bottom rope decided it would be good to stretch that little bit down while Adrian was trying to pull herself up but eventually physics worked itself out and Adrian was pulling herself up to her feet on the edge of the ring, looking at the big bunny within.

Death Bunny wouldn't stay down for long... okay maybe she would but that would only be because she was resting up! Either way, Adrian needed to stay on offense and in a big way if she wanted to be able to keep DB down long enough to roll her into the casket, and gripping the top rope gave her an idea. "Okay, you got this..." she whispered to herself, testing the tension in the cables before she made her move. Jumping first up to the second rope Adrian sprang up and spun to face the crowd mid air, landing thigh first on the top rope with enough force that she was able to spring off again, falling backwards into the ring as she stretched out for an Arabian Press Moonsault from outside the ring to in, aiming to land body-on-body on the Grim Hopper.

Time taken for resting up aside, Death's knackered state was all just the sum totality of enduring/circumventing the incessant underhanded creativity the Bullet Club Leader was bringing to the table. Trying to crash D.B. through an actual table assuredly being a tactic that would cross Adrian's mind at some point, not that she needed any more oddly convenient weaponry tucked underneath the ring at the current moment. For now she was in thorough control of the proceedings via her own wrestling expertise, veteran proficiency, and a bell-ringing DDT on the outskirts of the ring to the rattled reaper. Death unwillingly aided back inside of the ring by her undersized adversary with only a warbled view of the LED arena lights overhead. Stewing in her own maligned misery wasn't going to be making her any headway in reversing her fortunes anytime soon, but she opted to do so nevertheless until noticing shadows cut out the lighting above before Adrian came splashing down one slender abdomen across another. Death hacking out a puffed breath with a spastic uptick to her limbs beneath the Philly Flyer's audience popping moonsault, shuffling over to pant wearily and bitterly kick her foot against the canvas once given the freedom to.