Blood never tasted sooo delicious! (Yawn and Sasha)

The entire complex looked like your average stump. The walls and even down to the doors looked sterile in her tastes. For an old complex that had a history over 8 years, the AFW building could've ATLEAST did some renovating.

Whoever was in charge, upstairs, MUST be a lazy prick.

A few turns around the corner and out the double doors, later, Yawn finds herself at the summit of the ramp's walkway. A few feet before her was the boxed ring, right in the mouth of a sea of people and flickering camera lights. A smirk curled over her face.

The ambience was loud....and in unision, the crowd sounded more like a deafening, monstrous roar. Wasn't she lucky? The building wasn't much, but this,
dark, light-flickering, lion's den surely made her feel at home. From the way the cheers came, It nearly made her forget that she was actually new to the roster.
Nobody in the crowd seemed to mind, though. They accepted anything that was thrown at them. Sheep....her favorite animal. Easiest to tame.

"Aaaaand in this corner! We have--hey!"

Yawn snatches the mic from the fat, ugly ref before he had the chance to finish his routine, bullshit introduction. With one evil look from the corner of her eye, the ref forgets about complaining and quietly steps down, giving Yawn the space she needed to rob the guy's mic time.

"Every....single....one of you in the crowd right now......."Yawn deliberatly points out to the endless rows of seats with a slender, long finger as she spoke her words with slow, drawled out diction. Her smirk grows wider; it seems that she has caught everyone's attention.

The perfect puppets.

"You see this mat I'm standing on right now? It's white.....perfectly white....like an empty canvas.....its fucking pathetic!"

She raises her voice and the stadium falls silent. Twisted glee arouses on her features. This was getting good...too good.

"What this needs, now, is some color. Let's make art....with the color RED! Any takers!?"

With a short sound of thundering hooves and clashing sabers a small figure came down the other ramp, a boyish kid in her early teens. A blonde teen wellknown as it seemed. Blue, white and red sparks were set flying. A plain pyro show as Sasha made her way to the boxed ring shadowboxing and prancing on her feet. She stopped but one moment and tugged her shorts into place.
The kid with the long scar in her face, and some other's hidden by her cloathing, finaly reached the ring, after giving a high five to some girl in the crowd. She then climbed into the ring and looked at the mean Yawn...and yawned..rather playfully, shouting out:"HEy you! Don't be that rude to peoples who did nothing to you!"
The kid had a thick russian accent.

The fireworks was a cute touch. Pretty standard in a dump like this, but nice overall. The blonde, little girl looked even better though. Maybe it was the scars?
Whatever had built up in Yawn's bosom for the little girl had died real quick when she finally heard the girl speak, though.

"What....did you say?" Yawn's face twisted in confusion mixed in with a little detestment.

No really...WHAT did you just say? Boy, Sasha had a strong accent. She'd bet that as soon as they gets past the language barrier, though, she might end up being even cuter to her...with time. Yawn smiles and hands over the microphone to her little, cute, scarred enemy.

Here....speak up so everyone can hear you....my gracious painting partner

Granted if Shasha took the mic and spoke, Yawn would use the time to drink up the sight of her with own two eyes.

The blonde tomboy looked rather surprised at the mic, looking at it before she looked back up at Yawn.
Sasha hesiated to say something, also because she had to find the right words first.
So she said:"Well I not knew that you are an artist...guess I will help you paint that mat...ahh with ya blood and ....tears!"

She then tossed the mic aside and raised her fist, leading left and looking at Yawn past her knuckles.
The kid waited for a bell or any sign to start the mayhem.

The crowd seemed anxious, the whole arene filled with a strange tension suddenly.

Spunky little one isn't she? Cute. Atleast it seemed like Sasha knew her way around a good time. Yawn looks around the crowd, then shrugs her shoulders.

It's alright, though....five minutes or less, we're going to be crying TOGETHER!

Yawn shoots Sasha a twisted smile and with perfect timing, the bell sounded off. The referee thought about jumpining in the explain the rules and make sure it was a clean fight....buuuuuut, he valued his life, and thought it was better to stay outside. " title="Laughing" />
It was then Yawn noticed Sasha still looking right at her. Her grin only grew wider.

She takes great pride in her body; with lean muscle and sharpened features. She was chizzled yet still soft, not breaking her feminine, lithe frame. Her bust was nothing to brag about though; a modest C-cup, but the less her breasts got in the way of breaking someone to pieces in the ring, the better off she was, anyway.

"I know, dear. Take a looong look at me. Aren't you impressed!?" " title="Twisted Evil" />

Sasha blushed just a little bit, asking her self if she had actually been starring at the older girl. To allow her self to turn that startled for a moment made Sasha angry, she shook it off and then raised her fists up again.
She heard a bell and growled:"We will see"

Then the kid tossed her self at Yawn, charging,jumping up in a low ankle. Sasha leaned back and swung her arms with her, kicking forth both feet forth, knowing she would have a rough landing her self as she went for a hard dropkick that she roughly aimed at the chest of Yawn.

*WHAM!*

Yawn's little, small bosoms shook violently on impact, and was immediatly thrown against the ropes. The kick burned like hell and sure to leave a rash....mmmm, how it hurts so good!
Sasha's a lucky one tonight, isn't she?

After Yawn fell against the ropes, she took her own sweet time getting herself back on her feet...watching her with a tender smile.

".............."
Not a word was uttered. If Sasha refuses to continue her offense, Yawn will rush in for a lockup with cute girl.

Sasha fell to the mat after her attack had went home, the kid's butt hitting the mat with a dull thud. A short pain did sting up her tail bone as she slipped to her feet. She clenched her fists and looked right at Yawn but then she saw that her opponnent was offering her to lock up in a real contest of power and dexterity.
"Fine,fine" Sasha said under her breath and stepped closer.
She raised her hands and then accepted the lock up and pressed her hands against those of Yawn.

A flash glimmered in Yawn's eye. The lockup attempt quickly turned into a swift hook aimed at the small girls jaw. A short, yet soundful show of her growing affection for the little girl. In the form of something....simple.

"Watch closely, love. Here it COMES!"

The punch has yet to make its mark. Will her sign of love make its mark, or was Yawn too shallow and Sasha somehow saw through her facade?
All hope lied on the little, scarred girl's shoulders as Yawn's grin slowly grew wide.

Sasha, rather hoping for a contest of dexterity and prowess in wrestling was caught off guard by the blow. She was just trying to gain an advantage by shitfing a lot of weight to her leading foot but this edge rather turned against the kid.
The Russian's face got closer to Yawn then it was good for the surprising fist hammered right into Sasha's mouth and chin.
Sasha's head snapped back with a small moan and a spray of blood and saliva.
The Russian teen tumbled back, the lock up broken as she felt a bit dazzed by the blow, clutching her chin with her left, blood hitting the mat quite early in the match.