Bright's Out! (Estelle Bright vs Gilbert Stein)

(continuing from here...)

Standard Pro Match
Victory Conditions: Pin, Submission or KO
Normal rules apply.

"So he really doesn't have a win to his name?"

"Based on all the research I've conducted...correct." Joshua gave Estelle a disapproving look as she smirked. "That doesn't mean you should be careless. I haven't been able to gather much about his wrestling style, or his moves. He may well have some tricks up his sleeve."

"Aw come on, Joshua!" The brunette waved off her adoptive brother's concern. "You should have seen him when he bumped into me backstage! He was petrified, practically cowering and begging for his life! What kind of threat can a guy like that possibly pose to the daughter of THE Cassius Bright?!" Her brother opened his mouth, perhaps to argue or protest, but he didn't get the chance. The sound of Estelle's entrance theme was already starting to play, signalling that it was her time to debut. "Wish me luck!"

Spoiler:

Before he could say another word, Estelle was out of the dressing room and making her way towards the arena. Stepping out onto the entrance ramp, she was greeted with the glistening skylights above, almost as blinding as her tag team namesake. The thunderous cheers of the audience members also welcomed her, as she drank in the full sight of the spectacle before her...the AFW Arena...she had finally made it! The girl flashed a peace sign with a grin as she began to make her way down to the squared ring, taking the time to high five the occasional fan before reaching her destination.

Estelle slid under the ropes and pushed herself up and off into a slight bounce, bringing herself back on her full feet. Her eyes fell upon the nearest corner post, which she ascended. Holding both of her arms up, appreciating and welcoming the cheers the audience gave her before she hopped back down. The girl settled herself into that very corner as she allowed the referee to check her over, while waiting on Mr Fancy Pants himself, the cowardly wimp who had dared to imply that her dad's numerous victories had been the result of cheating...

"...YesYesYes, dear sister. I've trained thoroughly, researched extensively, and if I must say, look exceptionally dapper this fine day~...Honestly, you'd spare not a second thought on your beloved sibling if you yourself had become acquainted with this discourteous hillbilly. But I must dilly-dally no longer dear sister. Expect a call back once this matter is settled~..."

Gilbert concluding the dialogue with his sister via a servant removing the phone from his vicinity, and returning to his vainglorious admiration of the rather handsome figure within the mirror. Taking the time to readjust his coat collar and fluff up the frilly clothing on his shirt within his private dressing room. A prestigious luxury he mistakenly assumed no-one else within AFW was afforded...except for the slight fact that numerous other affluent competitors have been permitted the same indulgence. A few facilities even dwarfing Gilbert's in sheer opulence. Regardless, the Foppish Frenchman remained unconcerned with all else aside from his outfit appearing positively pristine for his AFW debut, and ensuring that the ill-mannered daughter of a certain Cassius Bright learn the follies of presuming herself capable of vanquishing the illustrious nobility that is Gilbert Aloysius Stein~...A crimson rose plucked amongst from a nearby vase before Gilbert started making his way down towards the guerilla position. Double checking where it is beforehand so he does not get lost again.

Theme:

Gilbert:

A sense of class, culture, and sophistication trickled out from the speakers as Gilbert's own theme started being played. Much to the baffled perplexity of the night's audience, whatever fun-loving atmosphere created from Estelle's entrance being snuffed out like a torch as the civilized gentleman himself began sauntering out from behind the curtains one dignified step after another. Nose stuck up high as he continued his withering gaze with abject disdain over the fans showering him with boos. An aura of outright pomposity to the refined gentleman taking his time in reaching the ring and approaching his corner. Dutifully taking off his coat, neatly folding so as to prevent unsightly wrinkles...before doing the same with his fluffy poet shirt. Taking all the time he deems necessary and handing off his clothes to a ringside assistant. Performing a few limbering hops before approaching the middle of the ring with an unexpectedly chiseled physique. "Greetings, fair maiden. Take heart in that before the night is finished, you'll not only learn a lesson in civility as the Steins prove their superiority over the nefarious Brights, but be bequeathed a rose from mine own personal garden~..."

Without Jacket:

In no time at all, the crowd made their opinion of Gilbert vocally known as he made his arrival. Estelle regarded him with an unimpressed expression as he sauntered his way down to the ring, carrying himself with what one might suggest was dignity. To her, it was just hot air. He wasn't just full of it; he was letting the substance carry him towards the four squared battleground where their match would take place. Looking like he had stepped out of the 18th century to boot with that ridiculous get up of his. Once he had entered the ring and reached his corner, he saw fit to disrobe his gear in a long, drawn-out manner...Estelle couldn't help but stifle a yawn, rolling her eyes. She just couldn't see this pompous blowhard as any kind of a serious threat!

When he came to the centre of the ring, she joined him there. He was more muscular than those haughty clothes of him had led her to believe, but she wasn't going to let that deter her. Not when he was talking like he was out of Shakespeare and preaching about roses. The brunette raised his arm and flapped her hand up and down, all to mimic Gilbert flapping his obscene mouth. "Are you done squawking like a parrot? Because I didn't come here to listen to dumb talk from the pathetic kid of some sore loser!" The girl smirked as she hopped up and down, psyching herself up for the match as she clapped her hands against her cheeks a couple of times. "But thanks for bringing the rose. When you're lying down, I'll make sure you're holding it upright like a corpse in a coffin! Seems fitting for a deadweight like you!" Estelle couldn't stop herself from grinning as the bell rang, the crowd's 'OOOOOOHHHH' transitioning into excited cheering for the bout about to take place.

The girl would bend her legs, arms at the ready and fingers flexing to beckon Gilbert forward for a lock up. "Let's see if you know how to use those limp noodles you call arms, Gilly!" The shortening of his name was just further proof that she didn't take him at all seriously.

Adherence towards one's past was considered quite the virtue amongst Gilbert's decidedly highbrow circle of snobbish gentleman compatriots. Hearkening back to a time of aristocratic reverence was a time honored tradition within the Stein family lineage. Gilbert's own wrestling Puh-Pah garbed himself in this quintessentially dapper attire throughout his own grappling career, and he intended to continue this unconventional custom himself in spite of the boorish discontent of the rabble inhabiting the arena this day. Not that he ever offered these commonfolk the benefit of the doubt in terms of their uncivilized reactions. An assumption he extended towards his twin-tailed adversary for the night, whose infantile mannerisms were more fitting for a class clown than a seasoned wrestler. Why, had Gilbert the six-inch ruler to utilize and position of headmaster, Estelle's hands would be in for quite the thwacking. However, Gilbert's fanciful feathers clearly rustled from Estelle's slanderous braggadocio that flawlessly won her the audience's adulation and affection.

"D-Deadweight?!! S-Squawk like a?!!" Gilbert blurted with a crestfallen expression until his demeanor matched the outrage in his uptight vocals. "For someone with such a luminous namesake, your intellect is as unfathomably dim as ever!! One lacking in the slightest iota of manners may not even be worthy of my beauteous rose!! Swatting the disrespect out of that uncouth mouth will be but one step taken throughout this lesson in etiquette that I intend to relish, verily. A-AND IF YOU CAN'T SAY MY NAME RIGHT THAN DON'T SAY IT AT ALL!!!" Gilbert huffed out like a petulant child being refused his favorite infantile toy, stamping his foot on the canvas and adopting his own grappling stance to match Estelle's. The Foppish Frenchman's arm's upheld and locking horns with the Bright nemesis of his, one hand clasped onto the back of her neck with his slender yet toned figure attempting to muscle her backward. Butting heads metaphorically now being interpreted quite literally as their foreheads were on the cusp of meeting themselves.

Oh geez. Estelle had (mostly) been joking, but the shrill response from her blue-blooded opponent really did bring to mind the image of a parrot that irritated everyone with its incessant chirping. The girl resisted the urge to clamp her palms over her ears to save herself listening to any more of this jerk's tantrum...although her lips couldn't help but twitch at the sight of Gilbert huffing, his cheeks swelling and stomping up and down on the canvas. She wondered if her dad had any recollection of his...and if he'd been just as bratty as his son was being right now. Still, she failed to keep herself from bursting out laughing before she locked up with the Frenchman. "Hahaha! Way too early to get so wound up, Gilly! The bell only just rung, y'know!"

Her own hand clutched at the back of his neck as their foreheads practically pressed together, her other arm on Gilbert's as she asserted her full strength into the grapple. She expected him to fall over like a leaf, but he actually was holding his own decently. Still, Estelle wasn't going to let this be a walk in the park for him! The girl would grit her teeth and aim to push the arrogant jerk back, little by little, until his spine would hopefully be greeted by the cool steel of the metal turnbuckle. And if she managed that, Estelle would break the hold - before bringing her arm back to slap Gilbert's exposed chest with a chop loud enough to echo around the arena! "Hiya!"

Without a shadow of a doubt, polite cordiality and civil discourse were abjectly wasted upon this twin-tailed ragamuffin. Gilbert's first impressions upon meeting this brutish hooligan were apparently all he needed in order to succinctly surmise Estelle's personality, but it severely irked him nevertheless being chastised for his cultured manner of speech and enunciation. Doubts were beginning to arise as to how this barbaric brute bared the name of his families’ sworn rivals, but Gilbert instead started channeling his abject outrage into vanquishing this vile vixen. Specifically, into the assertive lock-up that he initiated and was seemingly met with a stalemate in the center of the ring. Truly a significant moment in wrestling history for those aware of their parental lineage...a shame than that the history books would henceforth detail how Gilbert Stein started being steadily overpowered by his lady adversary.

A spirited fight though he brought to the contested lock-up, it was Estelle's beastial strength that ended up winning her the day and bullying the Foppish Frenchman to the corner turnbuckle behind him. Gilbert gnashing his pearly whites in a stubborn refusal of the inevitable as his stiffened legs continuously lost their rigidity with each and every ushered step backward until the truth became as bitterly tangible as the turnbuckle padding now compressed against his back. "Tch, a trifling setback. Although perhaps I should have expected an ogre's strength considering you possess the etiquette of one-" Gilbert's posh words while adhering to the referee's request and breaking the hold being swiftly interrupted by what sounded like a thunder crack of a knife-edge chop. Compelling Gil to yelp out with a spastic uptick of his legs and hunching over to the side afterward with painted anguish captured by the ringside camera.

WHACK! The sound of Estelle's palm clapping against this privileged punk's pecs was loud enough to echo around the entire arena. And what a beautiful noise her strike made! Blended with the shrill shriek of Gilbert's high pitched tone as his legs squirmed upwards and his chest formed a stinging red mark as a sign of Estelle's hit. She couldn't put into words how satisfying it felt! "Sorry, were you saying something there?" She tapped her right ear as if testing her hearing. "Something about me being an 'ogre'? That's no way to speak to women! Didn't your fancy pants upbringing teach you any manners?"

Estelle lifted her arms, her right arm curling around the frenchman's skull as he hunched over. The girl would squeeze tight as Gilbert's face would press up against the side of her chest, applying a headlock that would have the chump's eyes bulging from their sockets. "Guess I'll have to teach 'em for ya! And what happens when you forget yourself!" Smirking, the girl lifted a finger into the air to pump up the crowd, who roared for her as she suddenly sprinted forward, bringing Gilbert with her! "Here we go!" Estelle would leap upwards, taking her opponent into the air with her briefly, before crashing down on her rear as she aimed to bring him down upon that wounded chest of his for a running bulldog!

Irony abounded within the Foppish Frenchman's thoughts when Estelle actually started chastising the snobbish intellectual's apparent lack of manners and proper decorum. Ludicrous criticism that Gilbert could scarcely consider justified, especially when the source of such fabrication is all from a twin-tailed ogre woman fostering more muscle fibers than brain cells. Showcasing unmannerly conduct herself by not allowing Gilbert to finish his statement before swatting the air right out of his lungs. Lightning apparently striking the dapper dandy's pectorals in both impact and decibel levels given the frantic flailings of his legs into the air and rather girlish scream yelped out from the blue-haired blue-blood.

"...OwOwOw...I...was taught...mannerly conduct, from the finest professors money can buy-NGMPH!!!" Gilbert defiantly sputtered out when brute muscle powered the Frenchman down into an assertive headlock. Skull-squeezing strength ensuring his unwilling compliance and a swathing smush of his dignified facials against the side of her puffed out abundance, an applauding fervor rallying behind Estelle as her index finger pointed skyward to signal the Frenchman's impending downfall. Gilbert's arms now performing his whirlwinding flails once she started sprinting straight ahead where the Dandyman's face would become plastered into the middle of the ring, instinctively flopping onto his back in a swirly-eyed stupor.

WHAM. Gilbert's head popped into the air on recoil from Estelle's bulldog, letting the fancy frenchman bounce and fall onto his back as the plucky girl kicked her legs up and threw herself back onto her feet. She had taken an early lead against her pompous opponent so far, and she didn't intend to give back control to him for a single second! If Gilbert was so keen to tangle with the daughter of the legendary Cassius Bright, the firecracker would happily prove that she was her father's daughter to him!

"Really now? 'Cuz if I were you, I'd ask for a refund. They don't seem to have taught ya much!" Estelle peered over her shoulder down at the dizzy dandyman, putting a finger to her chin as if she was contemplating some kind of deep philosophy. "See Gilly, there's some lessons that money can't buy. You've gotta experience them firsthand, y'know? My dad understood that. That's why he trained me through my youth. And a lot of what he taught me comes with feeling!" With her back still to Gilbert, Estelle would bend her knees, and suddenly spring herself backwards! The girl rolled through the air as the crowd watched with awe, captivated under the lights.

"And you're definitely gonna feel THIS!" Estelle would aim to slam her body down upon Gilbert's unprotected stomach, forcing the wind out of the male! If successful, she would reach for one of his legs and hook it into the air, lifting it up for the first pin attempt of the night!

Notions of reimbursements and refunds from his personal trainers were indeed swirling about Gilbert's befuddled thought processes, except that it was his wrestling coaches whom he intended to have several distinctly uncouth words with once this one-sided shellacking was concluded. The brutish strength that this hyper-aggressive ragamuffin was flaunting with such vexingly childish ease was certainly nothing like his consorts of fitness specialists trained him for. Gilbert especially not expecting it to be channeled from such a vacuous girl lacking in any social graces, although perhaps this was indeed the vaunted strength from within the Bright family lineage making itself known once again. Whatever the reasoning, Gilbert's plans to achieve victory and righteous vengeance over his family's sworn rivals were becoming unraveled with every second!!

"...Buurrr...ThE namE Is GiLbErT AloysIUS FITZgeRalD SteiN...nOt GiLLy..." Valiantly introspective and aspirational though Estelle's monologue was, the main key-points seemingly went over the Foppish Frenchman's rattled cranium as he only saw fit to again correct her adversary for using that mockingly juvenile nickname of hers. Gilbert straightening out his vision with a flinched grimace and peering up to notice the familiarity of his surroundings just in time to dread the outcome as his back-flipping twin-tailed foe splashing perfectly onto his French breadbasket. One hacked cough and flopping twitch to his limbs later and the regal blueblood would find himself being pinned beneath the spunky Bright daughter. The referee startlingly enough getting all the way to a "2" pin before Gilbert yanked an arm upward and twisted his shoulder off the canvas.