Post by alyadmirer on Aug 5, 2015 1:25:24 GMT
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the ring announcer declares, “the following contest is scheduled for one fall, with a 30 minute time limit... and it is for the FAWN World championship!”
Predictably, the FAWNatics roar to life with the conclusion of that pronouncement--and with the surplus of bad blood in this match-up, the crowd is absolutely eager to see these two tear into each other once again.
“Introducing first, the challenger..." the announcer resume, spawning another round of deafening cheers. “Hailing from Tempe, Arizona… She stands five feet three inches tall and weighs in this evening at one hundred and twenty-two pounds… Ladies and gentlemen, she is a former FAWN Lightweight and Tag Team champion... She is the Nubile Navajo… NYYYYYSSSSSSSSA BLLLOOOOOOODDDDWWWWIIIIINNNNNNNDDD!”
The murmur of the crowd is interrupted by the first note of Rage Against the Machine. But instead of the elder Bloodwind's ‘Killing in the Name‘, the speakers blare the defiant chords of ‘Testify‘.
“TESTIFY”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=j_zyb-XXWz0
NYSSA BLOODWIND:
An instant later and Nyssa pushes the curtains aside, bursting out onto the aisle, the fans bursting into warm cheers for the talented lightweight. The pedigree is no doubt responsible for part of her reception, but there is little denying that the tyro’s choice of ring gear also wins her a fair few whistles. The raven haired beauty stands clad in a faux deerskin halter, the shoulder straps eventually becoming two thin strings that crisscross her otherwise bare back. She also wears matching bikini bottoms, augmented by for lack of a better term a "half loin cloth" that descends to mid-thigh in the front, and that fails to obscure the view of her exquisite derriere in the back. Ugg boots molded to resemble moccasins complete the ensemble.
Admittedly, the younger member of the Bloodwind tribe’s career had not gotten off to the hottest start in FAWN history. In fact, Nyssa could be said to have been the next in a long line of “lovable losers” that won the hearts of the Orlando faithful while losing matches--a lineage that traces all the way back to the likes of Cynthia Mitchell and the woman she would be meeting tonight. But, much like the Pleasant Valley Princess and the Cynful One before her, the Nubile Navajo had not just gained seasoning, but had indeed become a champion THREE times over, twice on her own and once alongside her big sister--and she’s managed to do so without sacrificing the adoration of the masses, the way Cynthia and Kylie had.
Buoyed by the support of the FAWNatics, a beaming Nyssa makes her way down the aisle, slapping hands along the guardrail, and doing her absolute best not to miss a single palm. Finally reaching the ring steps, Bloodwind takes them nearly two at a time, eager to get in the ring. Stopping just long enough to wipe her boots on the apron, the Nubile Navajo slips through the ropes and makes a beeline for the nearest corner. Nyssa bounds onto the middle rope, pumping a fist in the air, drawing another loud roar of support from the crowd in response.
Hopping down, the Native American stunner begins to stretch--and does her best to keep her emotions in check. After all, it might have been Polly Lockwood who had officially put her on the shelf for five months, but the damage had been initially done by this treacherous little troll. The vicious assault Kylie had perpetrated had helped to ensure that Nyssa lost the Lightweight belt, so it seemed only fitting that tonight, the Nubile Navajo took FAWN’s ULTIMATE championship off of Sanders’ hands.
“She was NOT on the list,” the elfin blonde frets, pacing back and forth. “NOT ON THE LIST!”
Alexis looks on trying to maintain a calm demeanor for her fellow Associate.
“Rachel said she looked into your contract and, since you agreed to a non-PPV defense,” Sugititan says, “you gave up the standard right of first refusal.”
“Why didn’t she tell me this BEFORE Bethany could put some bytch who wants revenge in the worst way in there with me?!”
“This was supposed to be some local Jane Doe, damn it,” Kylie steams, punching the air in front of her.
As Bloodwind’s music fades, the boos begin and they fill the air even more when the sound of The Clash fills the arena, the crowd realizing their despised World Champion is ready to make her way to ringside.
Brian: The frazzled Hawkeye enters stage left and moves to the center, no smile or smirk. The worry in her hazel eyes is palpable, the huge golden accessory lying over her left shoulder not tempering the concern in her features.
The champ grips a mustard-colored Louis Vuitton handbag tightly in her right hand. Behind her is the best kind of Associated backup in the form of VB&A’s powerhouse, the Filipino Sensation and Portia’s protégé, Alexis Suguitan.
Ky hands the thousand-dollar bag to the raven-haired beauty and while Alexis holds, the blonde digs out a microphone, the crowd immediately trying to drown everything out when Kylie draws it to her lips. But just as quickly she pulls it away and together the allies head toward the ring, Suguitan providing the point as Sanders follows. The Clash continuing Kylie’s increasingly familiar complaint with her former Corps.
“So alone I keep the wolves at bay…
And there’s only one thing I can say..ayy…ayy…
You didn’t stand by me…
No not at all…
You didn’t stand by me…
No way”
”TRAIN IN VAIN”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=NYkQK8QsQ2w&index=3&list=LLU6MWpP-rt2kWv-tOm824HA
The jeers echo only double when the Associates reach ringside, the Hawkeye wearing a black one-piece, black leather belt around her midriff, black lace covering her shoulders and upper arms, the Iowan going all in with Vuitton since signing her Associate contract, sporting their designer togs as well. She finishes her wardrobe off with black boots and pads.
KYLIE SANDERS:
ALEXIS SUGUITAN:
For her part, Alexis is in an eye-catching red mini, showing an abundance of copper-skinned leg.
Ky rises up the steps, her hazel eyes glued on the woman whom she had nearly ended in a DQ loss. She instantly demands the official keep a laser-focused Nyssa back before carefully sliding through to the sound of the ring announcer.
“And her opponent, standing five feet four inches tall and weighing in at 112 pounds, from Pleasant Valley, Iowa…YOUR FAWN WORLD CHAMPION…KYLIE SANDERS!”
The crowd only increases its enmity and volume as Kylie scowls, preparing for their jealous worst. They don’t disappoint.
“TROLL…TROLL…TROLL.”
Sanders’ face turns sour. She turns to Alexis and Suguitan shouts at the fans to shut their mouths but the FAWNatics aren’t done until the arena is rocking.
Kylie turns to the main camera, again drawing the microphone to her lips and pushing the gold overhead.
“I’ll wait all day,” Kylie shouts. And it seems for a while she might have to before the crowd calms.
Kylie draws the faceplate down and gives it a big smooch.
“I want you to thank me,” Kylie demands. “What other World Champion has given you a chance to see her defend gold away from the trappings of a Pay-Per-View?”
The FAWNatics are hardly pleased but they couldn’t deny she had a point.
“I demanded this rematch,” Sanders insists. “The record books say I lost to this never-was, but of course only by a disqualification,” she quickly adds. “And tonight I will expunge the memory of her lifeless arm being raised in victory with a celebration of another successful defense…one where I WILL put her in the Orlando General ICU for good.”
Ky turns her face toward Nyssa and offers a pucker of her cupid’s arrow lips. She walks to her corner and hands the title and the microphone to Alexis in turn, just in time for the bell.
It takes EVERY ounce of the Native American's self-restraint to not sprint across this ring and start ripping Kylie's hair from her scalp... but there'd be time for that. The more she acted in anger, the more she risked giving the Pleasant Valley Princess openings to capitalize on her mistakes. So the Nubile Navajo keeps her calm as she moves away from her corner, Kylie reacting in kind, blonde and brunette circling. Sanders and Bloodwind draw closer...
... and as they do, another chorus of "TROLL!" begins to float through the air--softly, but loud enough to stop Kylie in her tracks. Nyssa comes to a halt as well... and then starts waving her right hand toward the ceiling, urging the FAWNatics to turn up their volume.
When she does, the hazel eyes of the World Champion move from the serfs in the audience to the squaw in front of her. Kylie grabs Bloodwind's right wrist and throws it down to stop Nyssa from 'conducting' the chorus. "I hear Juliet's not here, Pocahontas. Keep that shyt up and I'll make your last hospital stay seem like an overnight."
When the chants continue "TROLL...TROLL...TROLL" Kylie breaks eye contact with the properly mouth-shut Nyssa and begins barking at the crowd, turning in each direction, pointing and berating.
"This is why I left each and every one of you in my dust!" Kylie raises a right fist. "World Champion, losers!"
With the elfin blonde's focus back on the crowd, Nyssa AGAIN uses her right hand to egg the crowd on--and preoccupied as she is with the verbal abuse being hurled her way by the masses, it takes Kylie a few seconds to see it. When she does, though, Sanders stomps over to the Nubile Navajo and AGAIN snatches her wrist out of the air. This time, however, Bloodwind's answer is to raise her LEFT hand...
A furious Hawkeye now grabs that wrist--but in the process, she lets go of Nyssa's right, allowing the brunette to start waving that one again! With smoke almost visibly wafting up from her ears, Sanders snatches that wrist once more, not repeating her mistake of letting go of the other hand this time. Nyssa just smiles...
... and lifts her right Ugg, intending to STOMP down on Kylie's foot.
Bloodwind's boot THUMPS down on the toes of the pixieish blonde and Kylie instantly lets Nyssa's arms loose, hopping away on her good foot, the crowd enjoying every second. Sanders reaches for her damaged toes and she bounces in a pirouette, cursing a blue streak all the while. When she spins back to a beaming Bloodwind, the ivory-skinned Hawkeye swings a scythe-like right arm at her foe's clavicle, even if it doesn't have much force behind it, with only one of Kylie's boots planted.
The clothesline not only lacks force, it also lacks speed, making it fairly easy for the Nubile Navajo to duck. Before the blonde Hawkeye can pull her arm back, Nyssa straightens to her full height, reaching her right arm across Kylie's chest, Bloodwind attempts to muscle Sanders off her one remaining foot. If she could get the Pleasant Valley Princess aloft, Nyssa would swing her around before sitting out with an inverted jawbreaker.
INVERTED JAWBREAKER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=GKyfR5hxxfo
Nyssa vaults Kylie high into the air, Sanders' peepers going wide. And quickly the inevitable fall comes, the challenger dropping to the canvas on her backside. With Kylie's chin glued to the raven-haired grappler's right shoulder, the Hawkeye is in for a shock. The champ's noggin bounces away violently, her body popping along. Sanders ends on her side, quieted as she massages her aching jaw. Her boots push against the canvas as she tries to put a little distance between herself and the seated Navajo.
And NOW, the Nubile Navajo allows herself to channel her fury. Rolling to her hands and knees, Nyssa scrambles after the retreating champion, snatching a handful of short, blonde tresses and SHOVING the Hawkeye's face into the canvas. Her grip only grows tighter as she pulls Sanders' noggin up again, only to SMASH her down a second time... and a third.
"OFF THE HAIR, NYSSA!" the official barks, and the Native American complies, raising both hands in innocence as Kylie spills over to her stomach. Bloodwind climbs to her feet--not that she intends to stay there long. Leaning down, the Nubile Navajo starts to gather up her opponent's arms, aiming to bring this evening to an early--but excruciating--close with her Dineh Deathlock.
DINEH DEATHLOCK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=BZXxAwXW9UQ
Bloodwind locks up both chickenwings, sending Kylie into a furious squirm. Kicking out her legs and twisting from side to side, Sanders can't prevent the unexpected effort to steal the title out from under her in barely more than a minute. Nyssa flips and lands in the bridge, threatening to rip Kylie's arms out at the sockets. And it doesn't take a few seconds for Kylie to shriek in agony. But included with the high-pitched screams are several noticeable 'NO's. The tawny-skinned challenger ramps the pressure, tightening her lock, forcing Kylie to painfully early and embarrassing sobs. But despite the FAWNatics turning their chant from "TROLL" to "TAP", Sanders holds on through the torture, as yet unwilling to hand over the prized possession she'd waited well over a decade to grab.
"COME ON, KYLIE," Nyssa snarls through clinched teeth, cranking back on Sanders' arms with all her might, "YOU'RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE, GAWDDAMMIT! GIVE IT THE F*CK UP!!!"
As much agony as the Pleasant Valley Princess is clearly in, the elfin blonde isn't about to surrender her title in such humiliating fashion... and as fresh as the Nubile Navajo might be, she can't maintain this bridge forever. Reluctantly, Bloodwind breaks off the Deathlock, pushing back to her feet before circling to the champ's feet. Grabbing an ankle, Nyssa tugs her foe over to her back, intending to ensnare Kylie in a totally different but no less torturous type of deathlock.
INDIAN DEATHLOCK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=rKqOmTQiyx0
But even with the throbbing in her aching arms distracting her, Kylie understands she's a split second away from feeling it in her legs as well. And four limbs might very well be too much to take. As Nyssa starts to cross the limbs, Kylie frantically kicks her way free of Bloodwind's grip and buttscoots her way toward the corner behind her. As a frustrated Nyssa tracks her, Kylie holds out a hand, window-washing a plea for the challenger to stay away. Sanders bumps up against the buckles of a neutral corner, edging up to a seated position, but still holding a stiff-armed palm out in front of her plaintively, ready to send a boot toward Nyssa's left knee if she gets too close.
Every instinct in the Native American warrior tells her to expect duplicity from the World champion--she'd been on the receiving end of it from Sanders enough times herself. But even on the lookout, Kylie manages to strike before Bloodwind can react. The elfin blonde's boot SLAMS into Nyssa's kneecap, backing the Nubile Navajo up before dropping Bloodwind to that knee. And now, it's the brunette's turn to launch an attack from one leg, swinging a balled fist toward Kylie's midriff.
The balled digits drive into Sanders' midriff, drawing a 'guuurf' from the World Champion. But Sanders responds, reaching forward to capture Nyssa's head in a front facelock. The elfin blonde twists her foe's noggin, but on her backside, there's not much more to do. Unable to rise, Kylie drops to a shoulder and starts to slide out under the bottom rope, dragging Bloodwind with her. Dropping to her boot soles, Kylie still with a bulldog-like grip around Nyssa's noggin, the champ lifts her opposite arm high as she continues to stretch the Nubile Navajo's frame away from the canvas until only her foe's shins and boots remain in contact. Apparently, wanting to match a huge early move of Nyssa's with one of her own, Kylie seems to prepare to DDT Bloodwind's braincase into thinly padded cement below.
Again, Nyssa balls a fist, swinging a punch into Kylie's belly. Of course, even if she could pound her way free of Sanders' grasp, considering the only thing apart from the World champ supporting her at the moment are a pair of feet draped on the edge of the apron, she'd then be facing the unenviable task of keeping her face and chest from enduring a wicked collision with the floor. The question is moot, however, when the Pleasant Valley Princess manages to absorb the blow with a pained grunt--but no easing of the pressure her arm exerts against Nyssa's skull.
"Horseshoes and hand grenades, babe," Sanders hisses... then falls back, some FAWNatics gasping and others shrieking in alarm when Bloodwind's cranium is DRILLED into the floor below. As the Nubile Navajo shudders in a tangled heap, it's impossible for the crowd NOT to think back to the head trauma Nyssa had endured against Polly Lockwood. It's equally impossible for them not to be concerned that worse still might be in Bloodwind's future...
Having paid the challenger back with interest, Kylie drops from her seat next to the sprawled Bloodwind to a spreadeagle, staring serenely into the rafters next to the motionless Nyssa. "Manifest Destiny, bytch." Kylie sits up and gazes upon what she's wrought, shoving Bloodwind to her back to get a better view. Drinking it in, the flaxen-haired titleholder finally recognizes the growing count of the referee. With a grunt, Kylie pushes to her knees where a grinning Alexis helps her up the rest of the way. The two Associates share a hug and Sanders stumbles to the apron. Her night's work is done. With Suguitan helping lift the champ up when she's momentarily unable, Alexis rolls Kylie in at 'NINE'. The Hawkeye immediately shouts at the zebra to count the KO’ed Navajo down and out.
"Do I tell you how to defend that belt, Kylie?" the referee snaps back in response. "No. So don't tell me how to do my job."
Somehow, the Pleasant Valley Princess bites her tongue. She could let this impotent little dweeb have his moment, when her victory is so close at hand. Sanders is ready to jump into the air in celebration when the official shout...
"ONE!"
... wait, what???
The Hawkeye grabs him by the shoulder, spinning the ref to face her. "What the actual hell...?" Kylie demands to know.
"You interrupted my count," he replies simply. "TWICE now. So, if you'll excuse me..." Turning back to the floor, he observes Nyssa still motionless and calls out...
"ONE!
TWO!"
Sanders stews... but remains silent. Bloodwind was still out cold, by all appearances. What difference would a few extra seconds really make?
"THREE!
FOUR!"
".... nyyyyyuuuuuuuunnnnnnhhhhhh..."
Though she still hadn't moved, a soft moan indicates a bit of consciousness returning to the Nubile Navajo.
"FIVE!
SIX!"
Finally some movement from the Native American warrior, Nyssa lifting a hand to clutch at the edge of the ring.
"SEVEN!"
With some difficulty, the Nubile Navajo starts dragging herself up to her knees.
"EIGHT...NINE...TEN" Kylie shouts in about a half-second.
The man turns pointedly. "ONE!"
"Uh huh," Sanders responds. "I figured."
The blonde moves to the ropes and slides through, down the length of the mat from Bloodwind. Kylie places Nyssa within a window made of her thumbs and forefingers then races at the stalled Native American beauty, ready to dropkick the wannabe into the front row, whereupon an uninterrupted count could commence.
Her ears might still be ringing a little bit--a lingering effect of Kylie's DDT to the floor--but Nyssa can still gauge the shift in the tenor of the crowd. That much is conscious thought--where instinct kicks in is judging EXACTLY the moment at which Sanders commits to her attack. At that point, the Nubile Navajo drops back to her hindquarters, her noggin swinging clear of Sanders' path. As Bloodwind rolls a little further away, the elfin blonde's boots meet not Native American skull, but steel ringpost. The beam being a far more resistant target that Nyssa, Kylie's knees really feel the connection--but her chest and belly experience the brunt of her descent to the floor. Picking herself back up, Nyssa Bloodwind claws her fingers into the mat and drags herself under the bottom rope, and an uninterrupted count DOES commence--but in regards to the Pleasant Valley Princess.
Kylie pushes to her knees then leans back on her haunches, looking in at the woman who'd exchanged places with her, still lying on the canvas. The obstinate referee is already at 'FIVE'.
Sanders shouts "SIX...SEVEN...EIGHT" in quick succession...
... and when the mirthless zebra next counts 'NINE' loudly and clearly, the elfin blonde is forced to dive in, breaking the deadline by the scantiest of margins. Sanders pops to her feet and gets in the man's grill. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were holding some type of grudge against me." VB&A's newest member chest-bumps the man then turns to collect Nyssa and remove her pound of flesh from Bloodwind for breaking up her fun.
The reigning World champ uses her handful of hair to peel the Nubile Navajo off the deck... but as Nyssa gets her feet back under her, Bloodwind launches a punch that catches Kylie in the midsection. "Nyyyuuhhhh," Sanders gasps, doubling slightly as she takes a step back--but while the punch had knocked a small amount of wind from her sails, her grasp of Bloodwind's tresses remains tight. The Hawkeye cocks her other arm, intending to crown the Native American lovely with an elbow, but Nyssa lands another, HARDER punch. This time, Sanders’ hand DOES fall away from the Nubile Navajo's locks, Nyssa straightening up--and drawing back her right hand, intending to trade in her punches for an open hand chop to the chest. And probably MORE chops, should the first connect.
The backhand hits home with a deeper thump instead of the usual thwack, Sanders' relatively full covering, courtesy Louis Vuitton, offering some small protection. Still, though the chop doesn't echo, it forces Kylie back and a following Nyssa levels another and another until a set of buckles ends Sanders' retreat and Bloodwind REALLY gets to work. Offering a storm of knife-edges that Kylie can't handle, the blonde drops to her backside from the impacts or to get away from more.
And when Kylie drops out of the range of Nyssa's blistering hand, the Nubile Navajo's Uggs go to work, Bloodwind driving stomp after stomp after stomp into the bosom of the elfin blonde--Sanders with no 'cute', duplicitous options open to her in the corner THIS time. But lest anyone think tonight's referee was biased in favor of the challenger, he starts a five count on the incensed Native American. When he reaches "FOUR!" and Nyssa shows NO signs of relenting, the official wraps an arm around her waist and DRAAAAGS her out to almost the center of the ring.
"I get it," he says, gripping her shoulders with both hands. "You don't like her. You've got good reason not to like her. But while Bethany might have my ass for issuing a DQ, I *WILL* if you force me to."
While the official does his job, Alexis does hers, grabbing a wrist and tugging Kylie out, sliding the Hawkeye under the bottom rope. She catches the wincing blonde in her arms, straightening her fellow Associate. "You're alright," Suguitan assures. "And this will make you more alright."
Alexis slips a familiar pair of golden knux into Kylie's right hand. Sanders blinks her hazel peepers at the glittering assistance and surreptitiously puts them in place, offering a polite "thanks" to the Filipino beauty.
Alexis turns Kylie toward the apron. "Now go finish this and let's go home."
Back inside the ring, neither Nyssa nor the referee have as yet noticed Kylie's departure--the duo remain engaged in their own spirited discussion. "Don't worry," Bloodwind tells him. "I'm walking out of her tonight WORLD champ. Nothin's gonna stop that."
As she brushes past the zebra, the Nubile Navajo finally notices woman who currently held that discussion leaning against the edge of the ring. The ref notices an instant later, and begins a new count--but Bloodwind rolls her eyes. "F*ck that noise," the brunette mutters, almost under her breath, marching over to the rubber coated steel strands. Stepping up onto the bottom cable, Nyssa leans over the top rope, grabbing two handfuls of the elfin blonde's main.
A bug-eyed Kylie can't help but cry out as Bloodwind starts to haul her off her feet--but as she does so, the referee begins to insinuate himself between Nyssa and the ropes, his head bowed underneath the Native American's arms as he tries to create some space for Kylie to return to the ring of her own accord.
Kylie can't contain a grin. Maybe this doofus wasn't such a bad guy after all. Sanders cocks the fortified fist and levels it at Nyssa's jaw. But when Kylie throws, Nyssa has the good sense or good luck to duck under, the punch grazing no more than her raven tresses. Before Sanders can load another gilded fist, Bloodwind throws her arms up and lets the man guide her away. With the official's eyes still turned from her, Kylie keeps the knux in place and slides through the ropes. By now, the entire arena is doing their best to make those in the ring as aware as they are Kylie is trying to make like Fortune's Favorite. Turning so her right side is away from both Bloodwind and the black-and-white, Kylie shouts "It's OK. Let her go. You've been more than fair."
The official continues to see nothing, Kylie's hand deftly placed juuuuust behind her right buttcheek--enough to be out of view, but not so obvious to APPEAR that she was hiding anything. And for her part, the Nubile Navajo is absolutely intent on getting her hands on the champ. Charging across the ring, Nyssa raises her arms to lock up with the elfin blonde...
... and Kylie right fist balls a little tighter before swinging out from behind her. Much to the crowd's relief, Nyssa DUCKS under the sweeping punch, narrowly avoiding having her lights turned out. As Sanders struggles to both regain her balance AND keep her gold plated reinforcements out of the referee's sights, Bloodwind continue to sprint across the ring, heading toward the ropes. And with the Pleasant Valley Princess starting to turn, the Native American warrior hops onto the bottom rope. Propelling herself off the strand, the Nubile Navajo sails back toward her opponent, her right arm rising to deliver a back elbow to Kylie's noggin.
SPRINGBOARD BACK ELBOW:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=1r8Bc3zyOaM
Nyssa deftly rebounds off the middle cable, flying high in the air with elbow poised. A startled Sanders, eyes wide, tries to use the boomeranging Navajo for target practice. She again swings her supercharged digits toward the back of Bloodwind's skull. But the springboard gives Nyssa enough momentum the challenger beats Kylie to the punch. Nailed in the chops by the pointed joint, Sanders is ripped off her feet and lands hard and heavy on the canvas, the blonde cradling the back of her head, noticeably without Portia's precious tool, the knux having been dislodged and lying a few feet away from the decked champion.
Rolling to her stomach, Kylie's eyes blink... and her fingers flex, which tips the Hawkeye off to having lost her secret weapon. Fortunately, neither Nyssa or that ignorant oaf seem to have cottoned on to her having them in the first place, but where... had... they... gone?
Sanders' gaze darts left to right and left again, until she spots them--almost but not quite underneath the bottom rope. The Pleasant Valley Princess starts to crawl that way...
... when Bloodwind's hands grab her ankles. After dragging the champ back closer to the middle of the ring, Nyssa shoves Kylie's left foot back behind her right knee, stepping into the keyhole between Sanders' thighs as she turns her back to the elfin blonde. With the back of her calf pressing against Kylie's shin, holding her legs in place, the Nubile Navajo starts to bridge backward, hoping to slap on the Muta lock.
MUTA LOCK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jee-ODWGvVI
Nyssa drops into the classic arch, placing exquisite pressure on Kylie's crossed stems and, when she slips her locked arms underneath the champ's chin, the maneuver is complete. Bloodwind yanks Kylie's head toward the sky, sending the Hawkeye's spine into a backbreaking curve. The official slides down in front of the yelping Sanders, face to face with Kylie. "Care to give up your title, Miss Sanders?" the ref asks. Ky takes a swipe at the man's cheek despite it allowing Nyssa to bend her further into a pretzel. She comes up short in the possible effort to escape with a DQ loss. Instead, the blonde offers an unconvincing, yipping 'no' as Nyssa continues to work her magic with the Muta.
"How long, Kylie?" Nyssa hisses, her teeth practically grinding as she torques back on the chinlock. "How long you think your spine's gonna hold? How long before you're crying and squealing like the little bytch all your former fans know you are now?" Another pertinent question, but one Bloodwind doesn't ask: how long could the Nubile Navajo keep the Muta lock applied? After all, with each passing second, Nyssa's own back, her own knees and her own abdominals feel the growing strain of the hold. But Bloodwind refuses to listen to them... for now, at least, cranking back insistently on Kylie's jaw.
"GIVE! IT! UP!!!!"
Sanders howls in agony, her hand hovering over the mat mere seconds after Nyssa makes her demand. But instead of falling flat to slap out her surrender, she curls her nails into the canvas and tries to claw her way to the ropes. It's an impossible gambit for the champion as she can make no physical headway. But the fact she shows an effort other than to capitulate might be enough to convince Nyssa she can't outlast the infamous obstinance of Kylie Sanders, which remains loved or hated.
And sure enough, with a exasperated... well, something of a hybrid sigh and shriek, Bloodwind relinquishes the Muta, dropping to her back--first atop Kylie, but then slumping off the elfin blonde to her side. When the Navajo beauty summons the strength to pick herself off the deck, Kylie remains face down, her left foot continuing to rest in the pit of her right knee even after that stem has gone slack...
... and that proves all the invitation Nyssa needs to circle to the Hawkeye's head. Stooping down, the dark haired challenger pulls Sanders up to her knees--which causes her right thigh and calf to AGAIN become a vice, trapping her left ankle as the Nubile Navajo starts to lock on a standing headscissors...
INDIAN DEATHLOCK PILEDRIVER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=bXcN8fXiktE
Her back spasming as her head is pulled between the tawny thighs of the challenger, Kylie's efforts at escape are muted, even more so when the crossed ankles of the blonde make for the perfect handle. Bloodwind wraps her hands around the boots of the blonde and lifts. Halfway up, she switches half her grip to a swaddling of the Hawkeye's waist and with that she draws Sanders to an overturned vertical. Almost instantly, Nyssa drops to her faux deerskin and PLANTS the crown of Kylie's skull into the deck. Sanders hits with enough force the blonde pops free of the Navajo's legs and into a momentarily vertical stance. But the vacant eyes give Kylie away and with the beating of a nearby mosquito's wings providing the impetus, she timbers to her back and into a spreadeagle.
The Nubile Navajo climbs atop her splattered foe, collecting Kylie's outside leg and scoring the...
ONE...
TWO...
THRNOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!
Sanders gets a shoulder up.
"She really IS an obstinant bytch, isn't she?" Nyssa asks the official, her eyes twinkling as she climbs to her feet. Pulling the Pleasant Valley Princess up by the hair, Bloodwind the younger shoves the champ's head under her left arm. But any thought that the Native American beauty might be going for something as simple as a suplex is vanquished when she takes a half step back with her right foot, preparing to take Kylie's head off with her corkscrew neckbreaker.
CORKSCREW NECKBREAKER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=22k3PgqZ718
The rampaging Navajo tugs the ragdolled blonde roughly into a front facelock, Nyssa having to provide much of the support to keep Kylie vertical, if bent at the waist. Bloodwind rotates to Sanders' right side, exchanging her grip and vaulting in a forward flip. The challenger RIPS Kylie off her moorings and sends the blasted Hawkeye barrel-rolling to the deck. Whether there's a thought process involved after the BANG against the canvas or just happenstance, the boneless blonde continues to roll under the ropes, plopping to the floor at her fellow Associate's feet. Alexis looks not at the puddled Kylie but at Nyssa, doing her best to make sure Bloodwind understands not to follow.
Perhaps surprisingly, Bloodwind seems content to lay back--for now, at least. But then, a little further thought might render that not surprising at all. After all, the ONLY portion of the match the Nubile Navajo had NOT dominated so far was when Kylie was able to deliver that DDT to the floor. Still, the elfin blonde had the option of STAYING out on the floor--a countout would allow her to keep the championship, something that Bloodwind is acutely aware of. And so, Nyssa's pacing picks up a little bit of speed as the referee's count reaches "THREE!"
Suguitan continues to stand watch, not helping Kylie rise through 'FOUR' or 'FIVE', the blonde using the Filipino's long legs to make it to her knees. But the champ settles on her haunches and the junior member of VB&A seems particularly happy to let Sanders take the rest of the night off as long as she'll keep the gold in Associate hands. Alexis gently strokes Kylie's moistened mop. "Take a vay-cay, Ky," Suguitan says, "There's always the Pay-Per-View to hit a home run."
Nyssa's patience, under the best of circumstances, was not inexhaustible--and right now, she couldn't afford for it to be. Bloodwind races to the ropes, but not the ones directly in front of Sanders and Suguitan. Instead, the Nubile Navajo slips out onto the apron behind the Filipino penthouse terror. As she scales the turnbuckles, Kylie offers Alexis a weak nod, her fellow Associate's body serving to obscure the Hawkeye's view of the ascending Native American. Alexis offers her hand, and Kylie accepts--but halfway up, the elfin blonde's eyes grow wide at the sight of Nyssa descending upon them in a somersault plancha.
SOMERSAULT PLANCHA:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ucOell8R6yk
Her hazel peepers on the tumbling Bloodwind, Kylie throws her body under the ropes, diving back in. Alexis is not so lucky. She turns as Kylie scurries and is hit head on by the flipping Navajo cannonball. Bloodwind sends the bigger Suguitan flying. Alexis skids to a splattered, splayed heap several feet down the length of the ring, groaning. Inside, Kylie makes it to hands an knees, hoping the fall has taken as much out of the challenger as Nyssa has taken out of her Associate back-up.
Only the roar of the crowd lets Sanders know that her hope is in vain. Nyssa rolls up to her knees after land, but from there pops right back to her feet, the FAWNatics responding to the pump f her right fist with a resounding cheer. The challenger turns back to the ring, and spots Kylie on all fours--which pretty makes Bloodwind's mind up for her in regards to what to do next. The Nubile Navajo leaps from the floor to the apron, and then once again starts climbing the buckles--this time face the ring, intending to catch a risen Hawkeye with a tomahawk chop.
Bloodwind vaults from her perch as Kylie pushes toward her feet. But Sanders has sight of the confident challenger all the way in. Finding the wherewithal to act with this knowledge, Kylie leaps toward the incoming. With her right arm raised high, the knife-edged hand at the end of the limb, Nyssa has little time for defense from the boots shooting at her chest from as high a dropkick as the weakened Kylie can manage.
Sanders might not have been able to thrust out her boots with as much force as normal after the punishment she's endured, but at this moment, the elfin blonde has an unlikely ally: gravity, which serves to pull her bosom into Kylie's soles. Both women hit the deck, the champion winding up face down while the Nubile Navajo lands on her back, chest heaving as she stares up at the lights. For a couple of seconds, both women remain motionless--but then Bloodwind rolls over, one arm falling over the bottom rope, the challenger beginning to pull herself up along the cables.
Several feet away, Sanders is also moving, pushing up to hands and knees and watching as the Nubile Navajo continues her path to verticality. Inspired by the show, Kylie digs deep for a second or third wind and heaves herself up, reaching her boot soles nearly simultaneously to her foe. As Nyssa strides toward her, Kylie backpedals to the ropes farthest from Nyssa. But when the blonde rebounds, it's clear this time isn't a retreat. The Hawkeye instead races at Bloodwind, Nyssa with fist poised for the oncoming champ. But as she approaches, Kylie slides to her knees, hoping to land a sliding gut punch.
SLIDING GUT PUNCH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=FEHvYvaEfgE
Again, Nyssa's raised arm leaves her torso vulnerable--and this time, it's Kylie's fist that DRIVES in, connecting with her navel and sending a LOUD gust of air past Bloodwind's lips. As Sanders slides past, Bloodwind's legs buckle, the Native American warrior staggering forward with her left arm hugging her impaled tummy. But after just a couple of steps, Nyssa drops to her knees, slumping forward and leaning against the ropes, gasping for air.
Skidding to a stop, Kylie heaves in a huge breath, but quickly pops to her feet, turning to survey. Seeing Bloodwind halfway down is impetus enough for the champ to move to her foe and sink her ruby-tipped nails into the scalp of the Native American beauty. Kylie tugs a yipping Nyssa to stooped feet. "Bytch," is all a huffing Ky can manage, at least verbally. She does raise a right knee that collides with Bloodwind's forehead. Nyssa rocks back from the blow, but it wouldn't be for long if Kylie has her way, planning to drop to the deck on her diminutive backside, Kristy having received all of the booty in the family tree, and send Nyssa's features into the unforgiving deck with a facebuster.
SITOUT FACEBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=sll-3Pm7RqM
It might not be all that match of a descent, given the two women involved, but what it lacks in distance, Kylie ensures that it MORE than makes up for with impact. The elfin blonde gives a SAVAGE yank on Nyssa's locks as she drops to the mat, the Nubile Navajo's features viciously introduced into the unyielding canvas between Sanders' parted stems. Bloodwind flops over to her back, her arms spilling over Kylie's thighs... momentarily. A little shuffle from the champion leaves those wings underneath her gams as she leans forward to scoop up Nyssa's stems.
ONE...
TWO...
THRNOOOO!!!!!!!!
Nyssa kicks out.
Feeling more herself, a kneeling Kylie looks toward the official. "Don't think I've forgotten about you." Sanders scans the outside and sees Alexis struggling to her feet. The Filipino grappler leans over the apron, looking in need of an airsickness bag. But with Bloodwind finally on her way to the reservation, Suguitan wouldn't be needed. Kylie rips Nyssa to unsteady feet via her long raven locks. The champ slips behind the Nubile Navajo, wrapping her arms around the taut waist of the tawny challenger. With her embrace in place, Ky dips slightly for the extra leverage required to send Nyssa Over and Done.
OVER AND DONE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=FmucPi2CmZs
Kylie pops her hips... and Nyssa's eyes widen as she's lifted off her feet. The Navajo warrior's arms windmill as she's elevated, but there's nothing she can do, the Pleasant Valley Princess bridging back with alarming swiftness and DRIVING Bloodwind's head and shoulders into the mat. Sanders' arms remain locked around the challenger's waist, Nyssa's taut rump raised to the heavens, her shapely legs stretched out over her head. A deflated FAWN Arena prepares itself t unleash a torrent of jeers and whistles as the official slaps off an anticlimactic...
ONE...
TWO...
THREENOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!
Nyssa... well, spasms out would probably be the most accurate description, a convulsion rocking her whole body strong enough to break Kylie's grasp, and to allow the Nubile Navajo to spill over onto her hip.
Kylie is sent forcefully to her knees, Sanders wide-eyed by the manner in which Bloodwind survives her former finisher. The platinum blonde runs her fingers through her hair, sweeping the locks in frustration. She casts a glance at Alexis who in turn, turns her dark almond-shaped eyes to the gold knux a few feet away. Unfortunately, the referee is also following the stolen glances. He moves to the glittering weapon and kicks it away, casting an accusing eye toward Sanders. "Not on my watch, Kylie." Sanders slaps the canvas, not bothering to hide her frustration. "I will still end this wannabe on your watch." Kylie drags Nyssa's ragged frame to in front of her corner and delivers a boot to the belly to keep her in place, coughing. Sanders moves to and climbs the corner, looking out on Alexis and the growingly disappointed FAWNatics. She raises an arm high and launches into a 3/4 size approximation of a London moonsault, Kylie flying through a backflip to splash the open tummy of the challenger.
Navajo Nation IMPLORES Nyssa to roll out of the way, or at the very least tuck in her knees... but the best Bloodwind's body can manage is for the soles of her Uggs to press into the mat, raising her knees slightly, but nowhere near enough to defend her midsection. Kylie's belly 'THWAAAP's down across Nyssa's, the challenger's legs sailing up into the air--and into Sanders' grasp, the elfin blonde sure to hook both as she settles across the chest of the Nubile Navajo.
ONE...
TWO...
THREE?
?
Instead of slapping the mat, the ref taps Kylie's shoulder. The Pleasant Valley Princess' gaze then follows his pointing finger, to spy Nyssa's left hand coiled loosely around the bottom rope.
"Ya...ya...you. You put that there," Kylie insists, pointing at the zebra. The Hawkeye looks to Alexis who shakes her head. "UHHHHH" Kylie screams, before sending an echoing slap through the arena when she delivers palm to navel. "FINE." Kylie tugs what's left of Nyssa to limp noodly feet. She dips and slips an arm between Bloodwind's legs and, with more than a little trouble, her body showing signs of strain, Ky pops Nyssa's body across her shoulders in a fireman's carry. Instantly, the fans plead with the challenger for an escape, knowing all too well, the hated troll is going for her recently renamed BadAss Valley Driver and a sure win.
BADASS VALLEY DRIVER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=TlTK5q9vQzg
And much to the displeasure of the FAWNatics, Nyssa offers zero resistance as Kylie shuffles the nearly senseless brunette up and onto her shoulders... but once there, the Nubile Navajo starts slinging elbow after elbow into the side of the Hawkeye's noggin. THAT brings Navajo Nation up to their feet, and the louder they cheer, the faster and harder Bloodwind's elbows seem to fly. Before long, the challenger manages to wriggle her way off Kylie's shoulders, landing on her feet behind the elfin blonde and roughly spinning Sanders around to face her. From there, Nyssa dips down, slipping an arm through the champ's thighs as she prepares to scoop her rival up. And in the back of her mind, Nyssa can only hope she still has enough strength to deliver the shoulderbreaker...
SHOULDERBREAKER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=o1-2kO6eiig
With FAWN's ultimate prize on the line, Bloodwind finds a way to get it done. She responds to Kylie's scoop with one of her own, though the platinum blonde's resting place is across one shoulder instead of two. Arm wrapped around the squirming Sanders, the reversal by the Nubile Navajo has seemingly every fan in the house on their feet. And Nyssa does not disappoint, violently dropping Kylie's left shoulder across bended knee when she genuflects to the mat. The Hawkeye tumbles off from the impact, howling in agony as she spasms on the canvas, cradling her her throbbing joint tight.
As the Pleasant Valley Princess crumples and moans, Nyssa rockets back up, from one knee to both feet, a somewhat drunken backpedal sending the Native American warrior into the ropes. Bloodwind's arms hook over the top strand, her chest heaving as she makes the most of this little bit or recovery time available to her. The crowd does its part, a chant of "NU-BILE NAV-A-JO!" echoing throughout the FAWN Arena. Nyssa's head bobs along with that chant, the brunette clearly gaining some strength from their love, while Kylie seems to have a difficult time of just picking herself up, The elfin blonde reaches her feet, her left arm hanging somewhat limp, her right hand clutching at her shoulder--and her back to the challenger. As she turns, Nyssa charges toward her, hoping to repay Kylie's earlier DDT with a rather special one of her own...
STANDING TORNADO DDT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=G2_gWhStA3c
Moving with the swiftness of a wolf on the prowl, Bloodwind races to the dazed Sanders, leaping as she reaches for the blonde's noggin. Nyssa's momentum sends her wheeling around the grounded Kylie, the Hawkeye seemingly trying a reversal of some kind. What exactly wouldn't be known as Nyssa rips Ky off the canvas and spikes the skull of the champion into the deck with an F-5 of a Tornado DDT. Kylie bounces then skids to a boneless halt, one leg draped under a bottom rope, falling over the apron. Sensing disaster, Alexis races to Kylie's carcass, the champion looking every bit like she's been knocked cold. Suguitan reaches for an ankle as Nyssa does the same for a wrist, ready to play tug of war with what's left of the champ.
It's a game that, on paper, Alexis seemed totally equipped to win, not only possessing a size and strength advantage on the Nubile Navajo, but also not having endured anywhere near the punishment Nyssa had this evening--one somersault plancha aside. And sure enough, Suguitan slowly starts to pull Kylie further and further under the rope... but Bloodwind refuses to surrender, digging in her heels and rocking back with all her might, until finally the Pleasant Valley Princess begins to wail in anguish, both sets of limbs feeling like they might pop from their sockets at any time. And then... with a cheeky grin, the Nubile Navajo simply lets go. Deprived Nyssa's resistance, the Hawkeye FLIES into her fellow Associate, blonde and brunette sent crashing into the railing.
Bloodwind falls to mat, rolling underneath the bottom rope and dropping to the floor. Sauntering over to the elfin blonde, Nyssa hauls her up, dragging Sanders over to the announce table before swinging Kylie's forehead down HARD into the corner. Kylie whiplashes away from the impact, staggering over to the ring on faltering legs, but she manages to make it to the apron before she collapses. Following her prey, Bloodwind grabs a handful of top and a handful of tush, pushing the Hawkeye under the bottom rope and sending her back into the ring with a shove. Nyssa then climbs onto the apron herself, intending to make her way to the top turnbuckle and launch the tomahawk chop Sanders had denied her moments ago...
A jellied Kylie, dripping from head to toe, in the fight of her life to keep gold in front of a house crowd, incredibly keeps pushing and, in this instance, pushing up. Outside, Alexis leans against the guardrail as Nyssa heads for corner high plateau. Reaching the top, she turns to the staggered Kylie who slowly turns, trying to find her foe. As the platinum blonde troll sweeps drunkenly in the tawny warrior's direction, a diving Alexis reaches for an ankle to trip the Navajo. But Nyssa launches and soars toward the glassy-eyed Kylie, vertical knife-edge drawn. With a fierce glee, she brings the tomahawk home, splitting Kylie between the eyes and sending the Iowan zooming to the deck with a heavy THWUNK, Kylie laid out from Nyssa's familial weapon in a wide starfish.
Bloodwind drops to her knees beside her opposition, then topples forward, allowing herself to drop across Kylie's chest as she hooks a leg. ONE... TWO... THRENOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!! The champ kicks out, just in time. Rising, Nyssa hairhauls Sanders up and drags her toward the nearest corner. Driving a shoulder into Kylie's abdomen, the brunette grunts and groans as she muscles her nemesis up to a seated position on the top turnbuckle. Bloodwind then follows her up, as far as the middle rope, and draws back her right hand.
"WHOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" comes the howl of the FAWNatics when the Nubile Navajo lands a blistering open hand chop to Sanders' bosom, rocking the blonde back on her perch. Nyssa then reaches for Kylie's skull, intending to deliver her Navajo Cutter.
NAVAJO CUTTER @3:05:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=pplzbP2AlEk
But before Nyssa can rip the champion off her seat and remove whatever senses remain, Alexis leaps to the apron and rings her arms around Kylie's waist. It's another tug of war over possession of the elfin blonde with Suguitan determined to keep her fellow Associate anchored lest she lose the World crown. On the other side, Nyssa wants her signature Cutter in the worst way, tasting FAWN's top spot. The official, already providing some leeway in not DQing Kylie. most likely for Bloodwind's sake, starts a count on the Filipino catfighter and at 'FOUR', instead of releasing Sanders, she shoves Kylie forward, hoping to catch the Navajo unprepared and send Kylie and her challenger on an unscheduled 'splashy' trip to the canvas with Nyssa underneath.
Suguitan gambit pays off. The shove from the exotic brunette sends Kylie into the Nubile Navajo, the elfin blonde's impact with Bloodwind knocking her from the middle rope and sending both women crashing to the mat. Only instead of Nyssa slamming Kylie's face into the canvas, the reigning and defending World champ's belly 'THAAAAP's down across the Native American's, knocking the wind out of the brunette.
ONE...
TWO...
NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!
Breathless or not, Nyssa still manages to kick out, sending Kylie flopping to her back as the Nubile Navajo rolls toward the ropes.
While Nyssa rolls, Kylie rocks from side to side, unable to more for long seconds. The women, both looking like they've gone through a war, start toward vertical and reach there simultaneously. With a shriek, Kylie emerges from a wobbly stupor mid-ring to run at her raven-haired foe on the ropes. Dipping a shoulder to spear Nyssa in half, Sanders' ivory legs pump her toward the target of Bloodwind's open belly.
"GYYYYYUUUUUHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!" The hard-charging Pleasant Valley Princess PLOWS her shoulder into Bloodwind's midriff, the challenger lifted off her feet and folded across it as Kylie drives her first into and then THROUGH the ropes. The cables serve to break Sanders' momentum, but shooting through the gap in the middle and top strands, Nyssa has no such luxury. The sweat-drenched Native American beauty falls through the air, hitting the thinly padded floor with a loud 'THOOONK' and dull moan.
As Alexis hovers dangerously around the nearest corner, Kylie sucks in oxygen in great gulps. She slides through the ropes and remains on the apron, knowing Nyssa would be fighting her way up to make it back inside the squared circle. Sanders stands poised, moving down the length of the ring and stationing herself for a running start as Nyssa ascends. Bloodwind's push off the floor is like a starter's gun and Kylie races toward her, head on, leaping as she closes to take her down with a Thesz Press and get to work with a series of blasphemous infringing backhand chops to the chest of the Navajo.
Kylie might not weigh all that much, but with a good head of steam, she's more than capable of riding Nyssa down to the floor... and though Bloodwind's back touches down first, her cranium whiplashes backward, the back of her skull striking the scarcely effective layer of padding HARD... The blow leaves the Native American clearly dazed, so much so that her arms barely twitch through the first few chops sent toward her sternum by Sanders. Even when those wings finally do start to rise, they are slow, barely providing an obstacle to Kylie's affront. But one obstacle IS provided--a verbal one from the official, who orders the Hawkeye to bring things back into the ring.
Sanders turns to the man, delivering a hateful stare. "One for the road," she says, and fashions a vertical knife-edge as she brings her attention back to Bloodwind. Kylie strikes with the tomahawk into Nyssa's forehead, the challenger's dark eyes crossing after impact. "G'night," Kylie huffs, a weary smirk emerging as she climbs off, struggles to the apron, and is barely able to roll herself under the ropes, immediately flopping into a spreadeagle on the canvas, staring blankly into the rafters.
At first, Navajo Nation lets Kylie know--in NO uncertain terms--what they think of the manner in which she's regained control, jeering the Pleasant Valley Princess at full volume. But as the count nears the midway point without so much as a spasm from Nyssa, they soon turn their attention to rallying their beloved. "NU-BILE NAV-A-JO!" the FAWNatics once again begin to chant...
... and, just past the official's "FIVE!", Bloodwind's right arm lifts off the floor. Just a little bit, mind you, her fingers waving upward. As the audience increases their volume, the ref shouts, "SIX!"
... and Nyssa works her way up to her hands and knees.
"SEVEN!"
The Nubile Navajo begins to crawl toward the ring...
Kylie, up to a seated position, chews her lower lip, not believing when Bloodwind uses the apron to rise at 'EIGHT'.
The Hawkeye wraps her arms around her head in worried disbelief, shaking her head, but knowing she can't make a move without the striped prick starting his count over. And indeed the ref keeps the corner of one eye peeled for the blonde in black, ready to lower to 'ONE' with a hint of impropriety. With Nyssa on her feet and swinging a knee up to the apron at ''NINE', Kylie seems forlorn the fight will continue...
... but with a half-tick to spare, Bloodwind spills to the floor. The zebra spins to the timekeeper and calls for the bell even as a frantic crowd screams in unison, many pointing toward the apron, a pair of long copper-skinned stems receding under the ring.
The sound of the bell is Suguitan cue to release Bloodwind's Uggs... and with a speed born of righteous fury, Nyssa dives back under the bottom rope, immediately rising to her knees. Having signaled the official end of the match, the ref is already moving to give Kylie her title back--albeit with some reluctance. But the Nubile Navajo grabs his wrist, spinning the zebra to face her.
"ALEXIS!" Bloodwind wails. "She had my ankles! She KEPT me from getting back in the ring! You SAW me almost back in! PLEEEEAAASSSEEE... you can't let that BYTCH win THIS way!!!"
An indignant Kylie pushes a shoulder of the challenger. "Get this sore loser out of my ring," the blonde demands of the official. Sanders snatches the gold from him and hugs it close, grin growing wider by the second. Raising an arm, she points the way for Nyssa to depart if she doesn't want to not only lose but leave on a stretcher. "And you know I can AND I WILL do it, dontcha."
Oddly enough, the Nubile Navajo moves in the exact opposite direction, springing to her feet and going nose to nose and chest to chest with the infuriating blonde champion. "You wanna put me down? You THINK you CAN put me down? Last time, you needed a CHAIR! This time, it was your skanky penthouse pal! Because..." Bloodwind JABS a finger into Kylie's bosom. "You KNOW! You KNOW that, just YOU, just ME? I would kick your ass up and down every aisle of this building!!!"
Kylie throws her hands up. "Calm down," Ky gulps noticeably. "I'm taking my world championship and I'm going home. You go to the back of the line." Sanders turns quickly to get out of Dodge, but a furious Nyssa grabs a shoulder. "You're not," she growls and spins Kylie to face her, but along with the blonde turning back toward her is the faceplate of FAWN's top prize and the shiny metal is headed directly for the bridge of Bloodwind's nose, the champion having all the disrespect she could take.
"Nyyyyyuuuuuuuuunnnnnnhhhhhhhh..." Gold plating meets bronzed skin, Nyssa's head snapping back harshly from the force of the ten pound strap BLASTING her in the force. And where Bloodwind's head goes, the rest of her body follows, the Native American's exquisite stems flying out from underneath her as she falls to the mat. Navajo Nation ERUPTS into a new chorus of boos and whistles, some of their number beginning to throw their trash toward the ring as Nyssa is left splattered, blinking up at the ceiling, her eyes suddenly thoroughly glazed over.
From the opposite side of her previous disappearance, the missing Alexis slides into the ring, proceeds to the champion, Kylie barking over the blasted Bloodwind, and lifts the elfin blonde high as the announcer tries to raise his amplified voice over the din from the FAWNatics. "Your winner and STILL FAWN World Champion...Kylie Sanders!" The jeers are at jet engine proportions, and even the growing chants of "TROLL" can't lower this high for the once upon a time Pleasant Valley Princess. Suguitan sets Sanders back to earth but only so she can place a boot atop the faux deerskin bottoms of the Nubile Navajo, Kylie claiming her Gladiatrix money shot. "NEXT!" the platinum blonde shouts loudly and succinctly. [/i]
Predictably, the FAWNatics roar to life with the conclusion of that pronouncement--and with the surplus of bad blood in this match-up, the crowd is absolutely eager to see these two tear into each other once again.
“Introducing first, the challenger..." the announcer resume, spawning another round of deafening cheers. “Hailing from Tempe, Arizona… She stands five feet three inches tall and weighs in this evening at one hundred and twenty-two pounds… Ladies and gentlemen, she is a former FAWN Lightweight and Tag Team champion... She is the Nubile Navajo… NYYYYYSSSSSSSSA BLLLOOOOOOODDDDWWWWIIIIINNNNNNNDDD!”
The murmur of the crowd is interrupted by the first note of Rage Against the Machine. But instead of the elder Bloodwind's ‘Killing in the Name‘, the speakers blare the defiant chords of ‘Testify‘.
“TESTIFY”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=j_zyb-XXWz0
NYSSA BLOODWIND:
An instant later and Nyssa pushes the curtains aside, bursting out onto the aisle, the fans bursting into warm cheers for the talented lightweight. The pedigree is no doubt responsible for part of her reception, but there is little denying that the tyro’s choice of ring gear also wins her a fair few whistles. The raven haired beauty stands clad in a faux deerskin halter, the shoulder straps eventually becoming two thin strings that crisscross her otherwise bare back. She also wears matching bikini bottoms, augmented by for lack of a better term a "half loin cloth" that descends to mid-thigh in the front, and that fails to obscure the view of her exquisite derriere in the back. Ugg boots molded to resemble moccasins complete the ensemble.
Admittedly, the younger member of the Bloodwind tribe’s career had not gotten off to the hottest start in FAWN history. In fact, Nyssa could be said to have been the next in a long line of “lovable losers” that won the hearts of the Orlando faithful while losing matches--a lineage that traces all the way back to the likes of Cynthia Mitchell and the woman she would be meeting tonight. But, much like the Pleasant Valley Princess and the Cynful One before her, the Nubile Navajo had not just gained seasoning, but had indeed become a champion THREE times over, twice on her own and once alongside her big sister--and she’s managed to do so without sacrificing the adoration of the masses, the way Cynthia and Kylie had.
Buoyed by the support of the FAWNatics, a beaming Nyssa makes her way down the aisle, slapping hands along the guardrail, and doing her absolute best not to miss a single palm. Finally reaching the ring steps, Bloodwind takes them nearly two at a time, eager to get in the ring. Stopping just long enough to wipe her boots on the apron, the Nubile Navajo slips through the ropes and makes a beeline for the nearest corner. Nyssa bounds onto the middle rope, pumping a fist in the air, drawing another loud roar of support from the crowd in response.
Hopping down, the Native American stunner begins to stretch--and does her best to keep her emotions in check. After all, it might have been Polly Lockwood who had officially put her on the shelf for five months, but the damage had been initially done by this treacherous little troll. The vicious assault Kylie had perpetrated had helped to ensure that Nyssa lost the Lightweight belt, so it seemed only fitting that tonight, the Nubile Navajo took FAWN’s ULTIMATE championship off of Sanders’ hands.
“She was NOT on the list,” the elfin blonde frets, pacing back and forth. “NOT ON THE LIST!”
Alexis looks on trying to maintain a calm demeanor for her fellow Associate.
“Rachel said she looked into your contract and, since you agreed to a non-PPV defense,” Sugititan says, “you gave up the standard right of first refusal.”
“Why didn’t she tell me this BEFORE Bethany could put some bytch who wants revenge in the worst way in there with me?!”
“This was supposed to be some local Jane Doe, damn it,” Kylie steams, punching the air in front of her.
As Bloodwind’s music fades, the boos begin and they fill the air even more when the sound of The Clash fills the arena, the crowd realizing their despised World Champion is ready to make her way to ringside.
Brian: The frazzled Hawkeye enters stage left and moves to the center, no smile or smirk. The worry in her hazel eyes is palpable, the huge golden accessory lying over her left shoulder not tempering the concern in her features.
The champ grips a mustard-colored Louis Vuitton handbag tightly in her right hand. Behind her is the best kind of Associated backup in the form of VB&A’s powerhouse, the Filipino Sensation and Portia’s protégé, Alexis Suguitan.
Ky hands the thousand-dollar bag to the raven-haired beauty and while Alexis holds, the blonde digs out a microphone, the crowd immediately trying to drown everything out when Kylie draws it to her lips. But just as quickly she pulls it away and together the allies head toward the ring, Suguitan providing the point as Sanders follows. The Clash continuing Kylie’s increasingly familiar complaint with her former Corps.
“So alone I keep the wolves at bay…
And there’s only one thing I can say..ayy…ayy…
You didn’t stand by me…
No not at all…
You didn’t stand by me…
No way”
”TRAIN IN VAIN”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=NYkQK8QsQ2w&index=3&list=LLU6MWpP-rt2kWv-tOm824HA
The jeers echo only double when the Associates reach ringside, the Hawkeye wearing a black one-piece, black leather belt around her midriff, black lace covering her shoulders and upper arms, the Iowan going all in with Vuitton since signing her Associate contract, sporting their designer togs as well. She finishes her wardrobe off with black boots and pads.
KYLIE SANDERS:
ALEXIS SUGUITAN:
For her part, Alexis is in an eye-catching red mini, showing an abundance of copper-skinned leg.
Ky rises up the steps, her hazel eyes glued on the woman whom she had nearly ended in a DQ loss. She instantly demands the official keep a laser-focused Nyssa back before carefully sliding through to the sound of the ring announcer.
“And her opponent, standing five feet four inches tall and weighing in at 112 pounds, from Pleasant Valley, Iowa…YOUR FAWN WORLD CHAMPION…KYLIE SANDERS!”
The crowd only increases its enmity and volume as Kylie scowls, preparing for their jealous worst. They don’t disappoint.
“TROLL…TROLL…TROLL.”
Sanders’ face turns sour. She turns to Alexis and Suguitan shouts at the fans to shut their mouths but the FAWNatics aren’t done until the arena is rocking.
Kylie turns to the main camera, again drawing the microphone to her lips and pushing the gold overhead.
“I’ll wait all day,” Kylie shouts. And it seems for a while she might have to before the crowd calms.
Kylie draws the faceplate down and gives it a big smooch.
“I want you to thank me,” Kylie demands. “What other World Champion has given you a chance to see her defend gold away from the trappings of a Pay-Per-View?”
The FAWNatics are hardly pleased but they couldn’t deny she had a point.
“I demanded this rematch,” Sanders insists. “The record books say I lost to this never-was, but of course only by a disqualification,” she quickly adds. “And tonight I will expunge the memory of her lifeless arm being raised in victory with a celebration of another successful defense…one where I WILL put her in the Orlando General ICU for good.”
Ky turns her face toward Nyssa and offers a pucker of her cupid’s arrow lips. She walks to her corner and hands the title and the microphone to Alexis in turn, just in time for the bell.
It takes EVERY ounce of the Native American's self-restraint to not sprint across this ring and start ripping Kylie's hair from her scalp... but there'd be time for that. The more she acted in anger, the more she risked giving the Pleasant Valley Princess openings to capitalize on her mistakes. So the Nubile Navajo keeps her calm as she moves away from her corner, Kylie reacting in kind, blonde and brunette circling. Sanders and Bloodwind draw closer...
... and as they do, another chorus of "TROLL!" begins to float through the air--softly, but loud enough to stop Kylie in her tracks. Nyssa comes to a halt as well... and then starts waving her right hand toward the ceiling, urging the FAWNatics to turn up their volume.
When she does, the hazel eyes of the World Champion move from the serfs in the audience to the squaw in front of her. Kylie grabs Bloodwind's right wrist and throws it down to stop Nyssa from 'conducting' the chorus. "I hear Juliet's not here, Pocahontas. Keep that shyt up and I'll make your last hospital stay seem like an overnight."
When the chants continue "TROLL...TROLL...TROLL" Kylie breaks eye contact with the properly mouth-shut Nyssa and begins barking at the crowd, turning in each direction, pointing and berating.
"This is why I left each and every one of you in my dust!" Kylie raises a right fist. "World Champion, losers!"
With the elfin blonde's focus back on the crowd, Nyssa AGAIN uses her right hand to egg the crowd on--and preoccupied as she is with the verbal abuse being hurled her way by the masses, it takes Kylie a few seconds to see it. When she does, though, Sanders stomps over to the Nubile Navajo and AGAIN snatches her wrist out of the air. This time, however, Bloodwind's answer is to raise her LEFT hand...
A furious Hawkeye now grabs that wrist--but in the process, she lets go of Nyssa's right, allowing the brunette to start waving that one again! With smoke almost visibly wafting up from her ears, Sanders snatches that wrist once more, not repeating her mistake of letting go of the other hand this time. Nyssa just smiles...
... and lifts her right Ugg, intending to STOMP down on Kylie's foot.
Bloodwind's boot THUMPS down on the toes of the pixieish blonde and Kylie instantly lets Nyssa's arms loose, hopping away on her good foot, the crowd enjoying every second. Sanders reaches for her damaged toes and she bounces in a pirouette, cursing a blue streak all the while. When she spins back to a beaming Bloodwind, the ivory-skinned Hawkeye swings a scythe-like right arm at her foe's clavicle, even if it doesn't have much force behind it, with only one of Kylie's boots planted.
The clothesline not only lacks force, it also lacks speed, making it fairly easy for the Nubile Navajo to duck. Before the blonde Hawkeye can pull her arm back, Nyssa straightens to her full height, reaching her right arm across Kylie's chest, Bloodwind attempts to muscle Sanders off her one remaining foot. If she could get the Pleasant Valley Princess aloft, Nyssa would swing her around before sitting out with an inverted jawbreaker.
INVERTED JAWBREAKER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=GKyfR5hxxfo
Nyssa vaults Kylie high into the air, Sanders' peepers going wide. And quickly the inevitable fall comes, the challenger dropping to the canvas on her backside. With Kylie's chin glued to the raven-haired grappler's right shoulder, the Hawkeye is in for a shock. The champ's noggin bounces away violently, her body popping along. Sanders ends on her side, quieted as she massages her aching jaw. Her boots push against the canvas as she tries to put a little distance between herself and the seated Navajo.
And NOW, the Nubile Navajo allows herself to channel her fury. Rolling to her hands and knees, Nyssa scrambles after the retreating champion, snatching a handful of short, blonde tresses and SHOVING the Hawkeye's face into the canvas. Her grip only grows tighter as she pulls Sanders' noggin up again, only to SMASH her down a second time... and a third.
"OFF THE HAIR, NYSSA!" the official barks, and the Native American complies, raising both hands in innocence as Kylie spills over to her stomach. Bloodwind climbs to her feet--not that she intends to stay there long. Leaning down, the Nubile Navajo starts to gather up her opponent's arms, aiming to bring this evening to an early--but excruciating--close with her Dineh Deathlock.
DINEH DEATHLOCK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=BZXxAwXW9UQ
Bloodwind locks up both chickenwings, sending Kylie into a furious squirm. Kicking out her legs and twisting from side to side, Sanders can't prevent the unexpected effort to steal the title out from under her in barely more than a minute. Nyssa flips and lands in the bridge, threatening to rip Kylie's arms out at the sockets. And it doesn't take a few seconds for Kylie to shriek in agony. But included with the high-pitched screams are several noticeable 'NO's. The tawny-skinned challenger ramps the pressure, tightening her lock, forcing Kylie to painfully early and embarrassing sobs. But despite the FAWNatics turning their chant from "TROLL" to "TAP", Sanders holds on through the torture, as yet unwilling to hand over the prized possession she'd waited well over a decade to grab.
"COME ON, KYLIE," Nyssa snarls through clinched teeth, cranking back on Sanders' arms with all her might, "YOU'RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE, GAWDDAMMIT! GIVE IT THE F*CK UP!!!"
As much agony as the Pleasant Valley Princess is clearly in, the elfin blonde isn't about to surrender her title in such humiliating fashion... and as fresh as the Nubile Navajo might be, she can't maintain this bridge forever. Reluctantly, Bloodwind breaks off the Deathlock, pushing back to her feet before circling to the champ's feet. Grabbing an ankle, Nyssa tugs her foe over to her back, intending to ensnare Kylie in a totally different but no less torturous type of deathlock.
INDIAN DEATHLOCK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=rKqOmTQiyx0
But even with the throbbing in her aching arms distracting her, Kylie understands she's a split second away from feeling it in her legs as well. And four limbs might very well be too much to take. As Nyssa starts to cross the limbs, Kylie frantically kicks her way free of Bloodwind's grip and buttscoots her way toward the corner behind her. As a frustrated Nyssa tracks her, Kylie holds out a hand, window-washing a plea for the challenger to stay away. Sanders bumps up against the buckles of a neutral corner, edging up to a seated position, but still holding a stiff-armed palm out in front of her plaintively, ready to send a boot toward Nyssa's left knee if she gets too close.
Every instinct in the Native American warrior tells her to expect duplicity from the World champion--she'd been on the receiving end of it from Sanders enough times herself. But even on the lookout, Kylie manages to strike before Bloodwind can react. The elfin blonde's boot SLAMS into Nyssa's kneecap, backing the Nubile Navajo up before dropping Bloodwind to that knee. And now, it's the brunette's turn to launch an attack from one leg, swinging a balled fist toward Kylie's midriff.
The balled digits drive into Sanders' midriff, drawing a 'guuurf' from the World Champion. But Sanders responds, reaching forward to capture Nyssa's head in a front facelock. The elfin blonde twists her foe's noggin, but on her backside, there's not much more to do. Unable to rise, Kylie drops to a shoulder and starts to slide out under the bottom rope, dragging Bloodwind with her. Dropping to her boot soles, Kylie still with a bulldog-like grip around Nyssa's noggin, the champ lifts her opposite arm high as she continues to stretch the Nubile Navajo's frame away from the canvas until only her foe's shins and boots remain in contact. Apparently, wanting to match a huge early move of Nyssa's with one of her own, Kylie seems to prepare to DDT Bloodwind's braincase into thinly padded cement below.
Again, Nyssa balls a fist, swinging a punch into Kylie's belly. Of course, even if she could pound her way free of Sanders' grasp, considering the only thing apart from the World champ supporting her at the moment are a pair of feet draped on the edge of the apron, she'd then be facing the unenviable task of keeping her face and chest from enduring a wicked collision with the floor. The question is moot, however, when the Pleasant Valley Princess manages to absorb the blow with a pained grunt--but no easing of the pressure her arm exerts against Nyssa's skull.
"Horseshoes and hand grenades, babe," Sanders hisses... then falls back, some FAWNatics gasping and others shrieking in alarm when Bloodwind's cranium is DRILLED into the floor below. As the Nubile Navajo shudders in a tangled heap, it's impossible for the crowd NOT to think back to the head trauma Nyssa had endured against Polly Lockwood. It's equally impossible for them not to be concerned that worse still might be in Bloodwind's future...
Having paid the challenger back with interest, Kylie drops from her seat next to the sprawled Bloodwind to a spreadeagle, staring serenely into the rafters next to the motionless Nyssa. "Manifest Destiny, bytch." Kylie sits up and gazes upon what she's wrought, shoving Bloodwind to her back to get a better view. Drinking it in, the flaxen-haired titleholder finally recognizes the growing count of the referee. With a grunt, Kylie pushes to her knees where a grinning Alexis helps her up the rest of the way. The two Associates share a hug and Sanders stumbles to the apron. Her night's work is done. With Suguitan helping lift the champ up when she's momentarily unable, Alexis rolls Kylie in at 'NINE'. The Hawkeye immediately shouts at the zebra to count the KO’ed Navajo down and out.
"Do I tell you how to defend that belt, Kylie?" the referee snaps back in response. "No. So don't tell me how to do my job."
Somehow, the Pleasant Valley Princess bites her tongue. She could let this impotent little dweeb have his moment, when her victory is so close at hand. Sanders is ready to jump into the air in celebration when the official shout...
"ONE!"
... wait, what???
The Hawkeye grabs him by the shoulder, spinning the ref to face her. "What the actual hell...?" Kylie demands to know.
"You interrupted my count," he replies simply. "TWICE now. So, if you'll excuse me..." Turning back to the floor, he observes Nyssa still motionless and calls out...
"ONE!
TWO!"
Sanders stews... but remains silent. Bloodwind was still out cold, by all appearances. What difference would a few extra seconds really make?
"THREE!
FOUR!"
".... nyyyyyuuuuuuuunnnnnnhhhhhh..."
Though she still hadn't moved, a soft moan indicates a bit of consciousness returning to the Nubile Navajo.
"FIVE!
SIX!"
Finally some movement from the Native American warrior, Nyssa lifting a hand to clutch at the edge of the ring.
"SEVEN!"
With some difficulty, the Nubile Navajo starts dragging herself up to her knees.
"EIGHT...NINE...TEN" Kylie shouts in about a half-second.
The man turns pointedly. "ONE!"
"Uh huh," Sanders responds. "I figured."
The blonde moves to the ropes and slides through, down the length of the mat from Bloodwind. Kylie places Nyssa within a window made of her thumbs and forefingers then races at the stalled Native American beauty, ready to dropkick the wannabe into the front row, whereupon an uninterrupted count could commence.
Her ears might still be ringing a little bit--a lingering effect of Kylie's DDT to the floor--but Nyssa can still gauge the shift in the tenor of the crowd. That much is conscious thought--where instinct kicks in is judging EXACTLY the moment at which Sanders commits to her attack. At that point, the Nubile Navajo drops back to her hindquarters, her noggin swinging clear of Sanders' path. As Bloodwind rolls a little further away, the elfin blonde's boots meet not Native American skull, but steel ringpost. The beam being a far more resistant target that Nyssa, Kylie's knees really feel the connection--but her chest and belly experience the brunt of her descent to the floor. Picking herself back up, Nyssa Bloodwind claws her fingers into the mat and drags herself under the bottom rope, and an uninterrupted count DOES commence--but in regards to the Pleasant Valley Princess.
Kylie pushes to her knees then leans back on her haunches, looking in at the woman who'd exchanged places with her, still lying on the canvas. The obstinate referee is already at 'FIVE'.
Sanders shouts "SIX...SEVEN...EIGHT" in quick succession...
... and when the mirthless zebra next counts 'NINE' loudly and clearly, the elfin blonde is forced to dive in, breaking the deadline by the scantiest of margins. Sanders pops to her feet and gets in the man's grill. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were holding some type of grudge against me." VB&A's newest member chest-bumps the man then turns to collect Nyssa and remove her pound of flesh from Bloodwind for breaking up her fun.
The reigning World champ uses her handful of hair to peel the Nubile Navajo off the deck... but as Nyssa gets her feet back under her, Bloodwind launches a punch that catches Kylie in the midsection. "Nyyyuuhhhh," Sanders gasps, doubling slightly as she takes a step back--but while the punch had knocked a small amount of wind from her sails, her grasp of Bloodwind's tresses remains tight. The Hawkeye cocks her other arm, intending to crown the Native American lovely with an elbow, but Nyssa lands another, HARDER punch. This time, Sanders’ hand DOES fall away from the Nubile Navajo's locks, Nyssa straightening up--and drawing back her right hand, intending to trade in her punches for an open hand chop to the chest. And probably MORE chops, should the first connect.
The backhand hits home with a deeper thump instead of the usual thwack, Sanders' relatively full covering, courtesy Louis Vuitton, offering some small protection. Still, though the chop doesn't echo, it forces Kylie back and a following Nyssa levels another and another until a set of buckles ends Sanders' retreat and Bloodwind REALLY gets to work. Offering a storm of knife-edges that Kylie can't handle, the blonde drops to her backside from the impacts or to get away from more.
And when Kylie drops out of the range of Nyssa's blistering hand, the Nubile Navajo's Uggs go to work, Bloodwind driving stomp after stomp after stomp into the bosom of the elfin blonde--Sanders with no 'cute', duplicitous options open to her in the corner THIS time. But lest anyone think tonight's referee was biased in favor of the challenger, he starts a five count on the incensed Native American. When he reaches "FOUR!" and Nyssa shows NO signs of relenting, the official wraps an arm around her waist and DRAAAAGS her out to almost the center of the ring.
"I get it," he says, gripping her shoulders with both hands. "You don't like her. You've got good reason not to like her. But while Bethany might have my ass for issuing a DQ, I *WILL* if you force me to."
While the official does his job, Alexis does hers, grabbing a wrist and tugging Kylie out, sliding the Hawkeye under the bottom rope. She catches the wincing blonde in her arms, straightening her fellow Associate. "You're alright," Suguitan assures. "And this will make you more alright."
Alexis slips a familiar pair of golden knux into Kylie's right hand. Sanders blinks her hazel peepers at the glittering assistance and surreptitiously puts them in place, offering a polite "thanks" to the Filipino beauty.
Alexis turns Kylie toward the apron. "Now go finish this and let's go home."
Back inside the ring, neither Nyssa nor the referee have as yet noticed Kylie's departure--the duo remain engaged in their own spirited discussion. "Don't worry," Bloodwind tells him. "I'm walking out of her tonight WORLD champ. Nothin's gonna stop that."
As she brushes past the zebra, the Nubile Navajo finally notices woman who currently held that discussion leaning against the edge of the ring. The ref notices an instant later, and begins a new count--but Bloodwind rolls her eyes. "F*ck that noise," the brunette mutters, almost under her breath, marching over to the rubber coated steel strands. Stepping up onto the bottom cable, Nyssa leans over the top rope, grabbing two handfuls of the elfin blonde's main.
A bug-eyed Kylie can't help but cry out as Bloodwind starts to haul her off her feet--but as she does so, the referee begins to insinuate himself between Nyssa and the ropes, his head bowed underneath the Native American's arms as he tries to create some space for Kylie to return to the ring of her own accord.
Kylie can't contain a grin. Maybe this doofus wasn't such a bad guy after all. Sanders cocks the fortified fist and levels it at Nyssa's jaw. But when Kylie throws, Nyssa has the good sense or good luck to duck under, the punch grazing no more than her raven tresses. Before Sanders can load another gilded fist, Bloodwind throws her arms up and lets the man guide her away. With the official's eyes still turned from her, Kylie keeps the knux in place and slides through the ropes. By now, the entire arena is doing their best to make those in the ring as aware as they are Kylie is trying to make like Fortune's Favorite. Turning so her right side is away from both Bloodwind and the black-and-white, Kylie shouts "It's OK. Let her go. You've been more than fair."
The official continues to see nothing, Kylie's hand deftly placed juuuuust behind her right buttcheek--enough to be out of view, but not so obvious to APPEAR that she was hiding anything. And for her part, the Nubile Navajo is absolutely intent on getting her hands on the champ. Charging across the ring, Nyssa raises her arms to lock up with the elfin blonde...
... and Kylie right fist balls a little tighter before swinging out from behind her. Much to the crowd's relief, Nyssa DUCKS under the sweeping punch, narrowly avoiding having her lights turned out. As Sanders struggles to both regain her balance AND keep her gold plated reinforcements out of the referee's sights, Bloodwind continue to sprint across the ring, heading toward the ropes. And with the Pleasant Valley Princess starting to turn, the Native American warrior hops onto the bottom rope. Propelling herself off the strand, the Nubile Navajo sails back toward her opponent, her right arm rising to deliver a back elbow to Kylie's noggin.
SPRINGBOARD BACK ELBOW:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=1r8Bc3zyOaM
Nyssa deftly rebounds off the middle cable, flying high in the air with elbow poised. A startled Sanders, eyes wide, tries to use the boomeranging Navajo for target practice. She again swings her supercharged digits toward the back of Bloodwind's skull. But the springboard gives Nyssa enough momentum the challenger beats Kylie to the punch. Nailed in the chops by the pointed joint, Sanders is ripped off her feet and lands hard and heavy on the canvas, the blonde cradling the back of her head, noticeably without Portia's precious tool, the knux having been dislodged and lying a few feet away from the decked champion.
Rolling to her stomach, Kylie's eyes blink... and her fingers flex, which tips the Hawkeye off to having lost her secret weapon. Fortunately, neither Nyssa or that ignorant oaf seem to have cottoned on to her having them in the first place, but where... had... they... gone?
Sanders' gaze darts left to right and left again, until she spots them--almost but not quite underneath the bottom rope. The Pleasant Valley Princess starts to crawl that way...
... when Bloodwind's hands grab her ankles. After dragging the champ back closer to the middle of the ring, Nyssa shoves Kylie's left foot back behind her right knee, stepping into the keyhole between Sanders' thighs as she turns her back to the elfin blonde. With the back of her calf pressing against Kylie's shin, holding her legs in place, the Nubile Navajo starts to bridge backward, hoping to slap on the Muta lock.
MUTA LOCK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jee-ODWGvVI
Nyssa drops into the classic arch, placing exquisite pressure on Kylie's crossed stems and, when she slips her locked arms underneath the champ's chin, the maneuver is complete. Bloodwind yanks Kylie's head toward the sky, sending the Hawkeye's spine into a backbreaking curve. The official slides down in front of the yelping Sanders, face to face with Kylie. "Care to give up your title, Miss Sanders?" the ref asks. Ky takes a swipe at the man's cheek despite it allowing Nyssa to bend her further into a pretzel. She comes up short in the possible effort to escape with a DQ loss. Instead, the blonde offers an unconvincing, yipping 'no' as Nyssa continues to work her magic with the Muta.
"How long, Kylie?" Nyssa hisses, her teeth practically grinding as she torques back on the chinlock. "How long you think your spine's gonna hold? How long before you're crying and squealing like the little bytch all your former fans know you are now?" Another pertinent question, but one Bloodwind doesn't ask: how long could the Nubile Navajo keep the Muta lock applied? After all, with each passing second, Nyssa's own back, her own knees and her own abdominals feel the growing strain of the hold. But Bloodwind refuses to listen to them... for now, at least, cranking back insistently on Kylie's jaw.
"GIVE! IT! UP!!!!"
Sanders howls in agony, her hand hovering over the mat mere seconds after Nyssa makes her demand. But instead of falling flat to slap out her surrender, she curls her nails into the canvas and tries to claw her way to the ropes. It's an impossible gambit for the champion as she can make no physical headway. But the fact she shows an effort other than to capitulate might be enough to convince Nyssa she can't outlast the infamous obstinance of Kylie Sanders, which remains loved or hated.
And sure enough, with a exasperated... well, something of a hybrid sigh and shriek, Bloodwind relinquishes the Muta, dropping to her back--first atop Kylie, but then slumping off the elfin blonde to her side. When the Navajo beauty summons the strength to pick herself off the deck, Kylie remains face down, her left foot continuing to rest in the pit of her right knee even after that stem has gone slack...
... and that proves all the invitation Nyssa needs to circle to the Hawkeye's head. Stooping down, the dark haired challenger pulls Sanders up to her knees--which causes her right thigh and calf to AGAIN become a vice, trapping her left ankle as the Nubile Navajo starts to lock on a standing headscissors...
INDIAN DEATHLOCK PILEDRIVER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=bXcN8fXiktE
Her back spasming as her head is pulled between the tawny thighs of the challenger, Kylie's efforts at escape are muted, even more so when the crossed ankles of the blonde make for the perfect handle. Bloodwind wraps her hands around the boots of the blonde and lifts. Halfway up, she switches half her grip to a swaddling of the Hawkeye's waist and with that she draws Sanders to an overturned vertical. Almost instantly, Nyssa drops to her faux deerskin and PLANTS the crown of Kylie's skull into the deck. Sanders hits with enough force the blonde pops free of the Navajo's legs and into a momentarily vertical stance. But the vacant eyes give Kylie away and with the beating of a nearby mosquito's wings providing the impetus, she timbers to her back and into a spreadeagle.
The Nubile Navajo climbs atop her splattered foe, collecting Kylie's outside leg and scoring the...
ONE...
TWO...
THRNOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!
Sanders gets a shoulder up.
"She really IS an obstinant bytch, isn't she?" Nyssa asks the official, her eyes twinkling as she climbs to her feet. Pulling the Pleasant Valley Princess up by the hair, Bloodwind the younger shoves the champ's head under her left arm. But any thought that the Native American beauty might be going for something as simple as a suplex is vanquished when she takes a half step back with her right foot, preparing to take Kylie's head off with her corkscrew neckbreaker.
CORKSCREW NECKBREAKER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=22k3PgqZ718
The rampaging Navajo tugs the ragdolled blonde roughly into a front facelock, Nyssa having to provide much of the support to keep Kylie vertical, if bent at the waist. Bloodwind rotates to Sanders' right side, exchanging her grip and vaulting in a forward flip. The challenger RIPS Kylie off her moorings and sends the blasted Hawkeye barrel-rolling to the deck. Whether there's a thought process involved after the BANG against the canvas or just happenstance, the boneless blonde continues to roll under the ropes, plopping to the floor at her fellow Associate's feet. Alexis looks not at the puddled Kylie but at Nyssa, doing her best to make sure Bloodwind understands not to follow.
Perhaps surprisingly, Bloodwind seems content to lay back--for now, at least. But then, a little further thought might render that not surprising at all. After all, the ONLY portion of the match the Nubile Navajo had NOT dominated so far was when Kylie was able to deliver that DDT to the floor. Still, the elfin blonde had the option of STAYING out on the floor--a countout would allow her to keep the championship, something that Bloodwind is acutely aware of. And so, Nyssa's pacing picks up a little bit of speed as the referee's count reaches "THREE!"
Suguitan continues to stand watch, not helping Kylie rise through 'FOUR' or 'FIVE', the blonde using the Filipino's long legs to make it to her knees. But the champ settles on her haunches and the junior member of VB&A seems particularly happy to let Sanders take the rest of the night off as long as she'll keep the gold in Associate hands. Alexis gently strokes Kylie's moistened mop. "Take a vay-cay, Ky," Suguitan says, "There's always the Pay-Per-View to hit a home run."
Nyssa's patience, under the best of circumstances, was not inexhaustible--and right now, she couldn't afford for it to be. Bloodwind races to the ropes, but not the ones directly in front of Sanders and Suguitan. Instead, the Nubile Navajo slips out onto the apron behind the Filipino penthouse terror. As she scales the turnbuckles, Kylie offers Alexis a weak nod, her fellow Associate's body serving to obscure the Hawkeye's view of the ascending Native American. Alexis offers her hand, and Kylie accepts--but halfway up, the elfin blonde's eyes grow wide at the sight of Nyssa descending upon them in a somersault plancha.
SOMERSAULT PLANCHA:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ucOell8R6yk
Her hazel peepers on the tumbling Bloodwind, Kylie throws her body under the ropes, diving back in. Alexis is not so lucky. She turns as Kylie scurries and is hit head on by the flipping Navajo cannonball. Bloodwind sends the bigger Suguitan flying. Alexis skids to a splattered, splayed heap several feet down the length of the ring, groaning. Inside, Kylie makes it to hands an knees, hoping the fall has taken as much out of the challenger as Nyssa has taken out of her Associate back-up.
Only the roar of the crowd lets Sanders know that her hope is in vain. Nyssa rolls up to her knees after land, but from there pops right back to her feet, the FAWNatics responding to the pump f her right fist with a resounding cheer. The challenger turns back to the ring, and spots Kylie on all fours--which pretty makes Bloodwind's mind up for her in regards to what to do next. The Nubile Navajo leaps from the floor to the apron, and then once again starts climbing the buckles--this time face the ring, intending to catch a risen Hawkeye with a tomahawk chop.
Bloodwind vaults from her perch as Kylie pushes toward her feet. But Sanders has sight of the confident challenger all the way in. Finding the wherewithal to act with this knowledge, Kylie leaps toward the incoming. With her right arm raised high, the knife-edged hand at the end of the limb, Nyssa has little time for defense from the boots shooting at her chest from as high a dropkick as the weakened Kylie can manage.
Sanders might not have been able to thrust out her boots with as much force as normal after the punishment she's endured, but at this moment, the elfin blonde has an unlikely ally: gravity, which serves to pull her bosom into Kylie's soles. Both women hit the deck, the champion winding up face down while the Nubile Navajo lands on her back, chest heaving as she stares up at the lights. For a couple of seconds, both women remain motionless--but then Bloodwind rolls over, one arm falling over the bottom rope, the challenger beginning to pull herself up along the cables.
Several feet away, Sanders is also moving, pushing up to hands and knees and watching as the Nubile Navajo continues her path to verticality. Inspired by the show, Kylie digs deep for a second or third wind and heaves herself up, reaching her boot soles nearly simultaneously to her foe. As Nyssa strides toward her, Kylie backpedals to the ropes farthest from Nyssa. But when the blonde rebounds, it's clear this time isn't a retreat. The Hawkeye instead races at Bloodwind, Nyssa with fist poised for the oncoming champ. But as she approaches, Kylie slides to her knees, hoping to land a sliding gut punch.
SLIDING GUT PUNCH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=FEHvYvaEfgE
Again, Nyssa's raised arm leaves her torso vulnerable--and this time, it's Kylie's fist that DRIVES in, connecting with her navel and sending a LOUD gust of air past Bloodwind's lips. As Sanders slides past, Bloodwind's legs buckle, the Native American warrior staggering forward with her left arm hugging her impaled tummy. But after just a couple of steps, Nyssa drops to her knees, slumping forward and leaning against the ropes, gasping for air.
Skidding to a stop, Kylie heaves in a huge breath, but quickly pops to her feet, turning to survey. Seeing Bloodwind halfway down is impetus enough for the champ to move to her foe and sink her ruby-tipped nails into the scalp of the Native American beauty. Kylie tugs a yipping Nyssa to stooped feet. "Bytch," is all a huffing Ky can manage, at least verbally. She does raise a right knee that collides with Bloodwind's forehead. Nyssa rocks back from the blow, but it wouldn't be for long if Kylie has her way, planning to drop to the deck on her diminutive backside, Kristy having received all of the booty in the family tree, and send Nyssa's features into the unforgiving deck with a facebuster.
SITOUT FACEBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=sll-3Pm7RqM
It might not be all that match of a descent, given the two women involved, but what it lacks in distance, Kylie ensures that it MORE than makes up for with impact. The elfin blonde gives a SAVAGE yank on Nyssa's locks as she drops to the mat, the Nubile Navajo's features viciously introduced into the unyielding canvas between Sanders' parted stems. Bloodwind flops over to her back, her arms spilling over Kylie's thighs... momentarily. A little shuffle from the champion leaves those wings underneath her gams as she leans forward to scoop up Nyssa's stems.
ONE...
TWO...
THRNOOOO!!!!!!!!
Nyssa kicks out.
Feeling more herself, a kneeling Kylie looks toward the official. "Don't think I've forgotten about you." Sanders scans the outside and sees Alexis struggling to her feet. The Filipino grappler leans over the apron, looking in need of an airsickness bag. But with Bloodwind finally on her way to the reservation, Suguitan wouldn't be needed. Kylie rips Nyssa to unsteady feet via her long raven locks. The champ slips behind the Nubile Navajo, wrapping her arms around the taut waist of the tawny challenger. With her embrace in place, Ky dips slightly for the extra leverage required to send Nyssa Over and Done.
OVER AND DONE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=FmucPi2CmZs
Kylie pops her hips... and Nyssa's eyes widen as she's lifted off her feet. The Navajo warrior's arms windmill as she's elevated, but there's nothing she can do, the Pleasant Valley Princess bridging back with alarming swiftness and DRIVING Bloodwind's head and shoulders into the mat. Sanders' arms remain locked around the challenger's waist, Nyssa's taut rump raised to the heavens, her shapely legs stretched out over her head. A deflated FAWN Arena prepares itself t unleash a torrent of jeers and whistles as the official slaps off an anticlimactic...
ONE...
TWO...
THREENOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!
Nyssa... well, spasms out would probably be the most accurate description, a convulsion rocking her whole body strong enough to break Kylie's grasp, and to allow the Nubile Navajo to spill over onto her hip.
Kylie is sent forcefully to her knees, Sanders wide-eyed by the manner in which Bloodwind survives her former finisher. The platinum blonde runs her fingers through her hair, sweeping the locks in frustration. She casts a glance at Alexis who in turn, turns her dark almond-shaped eyes to the gold knux a few feet away. Unfortunately, the referee is also following the stolen glances. He moves to the glittering weapon and kicks it away, casting an accusing eye toward Sanders. "Not on my watch, Kylie." Sanders slaps the canvas, not bothering to hide her frustration. "I will still end this wannabe on your watch." Kylie drags Nyssa's ragged frame to in front of her corner and delivers a boot to the belly to keep her in place, coughing. Sanders moves to and climbs the corner, looking out on Alexis and the growingly disappointed FAWNatics. She raises an arm high and launches into a 3/4 size approximation of a London moonsault, Kylie flying through a backflip to splash the open tummy of the challenger.
Navajo Nation IMPLORES Nyssa to roll out of the way, or at the very least tuck in her knees... but the best Bloodwind's body can manage is for the soles of her Uggs to press into the mat, raising her knees slightly, but nowhere near enough to defend her midsection. Kylie's belly 'THWAAAP's down across Nyssa's, the challenger's legs sailing up into the air--and into Sanders' grasp, the elfin blonde sure to hook both as she settles across the chest of the Nubile Navajo.
ONE...
TWO...
THREE?
? Instead of slapping the mat, the ref taps Kylie's shoulder. The Pleasant Valley Princess' gaze then follows his pointing finger, to spy Nyssa's left hand coiled loosely around the bottom rope.
"Ya...ya...you. You put that there," Kylie insists, pointing at the zebra. The Hawkeye looks to Alexis who shakes her head. "UHHHHH" Kylie screams, before sending an echoing slap through the arena when she delivers palm to navel. "FINE." Kylie tugs what's left of Nyssa to limp noodly feet. She dips and slips an arm between Bloodwind's legs and, with more than a little trouble, her body showing signs of strain, Ky pops Nyssa's body across her shoulders in a fireman's carry. Instantly, the fans plead with the challenger for an escape, knowing all too well, the hated troll is going for her recently renamed BadAss Valley Driver and a sure win.
BADASS VALLEY DRIVER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=TlTK5q9vQzg
And much to the displeasure of the FAWNatics, Nyssa offers zero resistance as Kylie shuffles the nearly senseless brunette up and onto her shoulders... but once there, the Nubile Navajo starts slinging elbow after elbow into the side of the Hawkeye's noggin. THAT brings Navajo Nation up to their feet, and the louder they cheer, the faster and harder Bloodwind's elbows seem to fly. Before long, the challenger manages to wriggle her way off Kylie's shoulders, landing on her feet behind the elfin blonde and roughly spinning Sanders around to face her. From there, Nyssa dips down, slipping an arm through the champ's thighs as she prepares to scoop her rival up. And in the back of her mind, Nyssa can only hope she still has enough strength to deliver the shoulderbreaker...
SHOULDERBREAKER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=o1-2kO6eiig
With FAWN's ultimate prize on the line, Bloodwind finds a way to get it done. She responds to Kylie's scoop with one of her own, though the platinum blonde's resting place is across one shoulder instead of two. Arm wrapped around the squirming Sanders, the reversal by the Nubile Navajo has seemingly every fan in the house on their feet. And Nyssa does not disappoint, violently dropping Kylie's left shoulder across bended knee when she genuflects to the mat. The Hawkeye tumbles off from the impact, howling in agony as she spasms on the canvas, cradling her her throbbing joint tight.
As the Pleasant Valley Princess crumples and moans, Nyssa rockets back up, from one knee to both feet, a somewhat drunken backpedal sending the Native American warrior into the ropes. Bloodwind's arms hook over the top strand, her chest heaving as she makes the most of this little bit or recovery time available to her. The crowd does its part, a chant of "NU-BILE NAV-A-JO!" echoing throughout the FAWN Arena. Nyssa's head bobs along with that chant, the brunette clearly gaining some strength from their love, while Kylie seems to have a difficult time of just picking herself up, The elfin blonde reaches her feet, her left arm hanging somewhat limp, her right hand clutching at her shoulder--and her back to the challenger. As she turns, Nyssa charges toward her, hoping to repay Kylie's earlier DDT with a rather special one of her own...
STANDING TORNADO DDT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=G2_gWhStA3c
Moving with the swiftness of a wolf on the prowl, Bloodwind races to the dazed Sanders, leaping as she reaches for the blonde's noggin. Nyssa's momentum sends her wheeling around the grounded Kylie, the Hawkeye seemingly trying a reversal of some kind. What exactly wouldn't be known as Nyssa rips Ky off the canvas and spikes the skull of the champion into the deck with an F-5 of a Tornado DDT. Kylie bounces then skids to a boneless halt, one leg draped under a bottom rope, falling over the apron. Sensing disaster, Alexis races to Kylie's carcass, the champion looking every bit like she's been knocked cold. Suguitan reaches for an ankle as Nyssa does the same for a wrist, ready to play tug of war with what's left of the champ.
It's a game that, on paper, Alexis seemed totally equipped to win, not only possessing a size and strength advantage on the Nubile Navajo, but also not having endured anywhere near the punishment Nyssa had this evening--one somersault plancha aside. And sure enough, Suguitan slowly starts to pull Kylie further and further under the rope... but Bloodwind refuses to surrender, digging in her heels and rocking back with all her might, until finally the Pleasant Valley Princess begins to wail in anguish, both sets of limbs feeling like they might pop from their sockets at any time. And then... with a cheeky grin, the Nubile Navajo simply lets go. Deprived Nyssa's resistance, the Hawkeye FLIES into her fellow Associate, blonde and brunette sent crashing into the railing.
Bloodwind falls to mat, rolling underneath the bottom rope and dropping to the floor. Sauntering over to the elfin blonde, Nyssa hauls her up, dragging Sanders over to the announce table before swinging Kylie's forehead down HARD into the corner. Kylie whiplashes away from the impact, staggering over to the ring on faltering legs, but she manages to make it to the apron before she collapses. Following her prey, Bloodwind grabs a handful of top and a handful of tush, pushing the Hawkeye under the bottom rope and sending her back into the ring with a shove. Nyssa then climbs onto the apron herself, intending to make her way to the top turnbuckle and launch the tomahawk chop Sanders had denied her moments ago...
A jellied Kylie, dripping from head to toe, in the fight of her life to keep gold in front of a house crowd, incredibly keeps pushing and, in this instance, pushing up. Outside, Alexis leans against the guardrail as Nyssa heads for corner high plateau. Reaching the top, she turns to the staggered Kylie who slowly turns, trying to find her foe. As the platinum blonde troll sweeps drunkenly in the tawny warrior's direction, a diving Alexis reaches for an ankle to trip the Navajo. But Nyssa launches and soars toward the glassy-eyed Kylie, vertical knife-edge drawn. With a fierce glee, she brings the tomahawk home, splitting Kylie between the eyes and sending the Iowan zooming to the deck with a heavy THWUNK, Kylie laid out from Nyssa's familial weapon in a wide starfish.
Bloodwind drops to her knees beside her opposition, then topples forward, allowing herself to drop across Kylie's chest as she hooks a leg. ONE... TWO... THRENOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!! The champ kicks out, just in time. Rising, Nyssa hairhauls Sanders up and drags her toward the nearest corner. Driving a shoulder into Kylie's abdomen, the brunette grunts and groans as she muscles her nemesis up to a seated position on the top turnbuckle. Bloodwind then follows her up, as far as the middle rope, and draws back her right hand.
"WHOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" comes the howl of the FAWNatics when the Nubile Navajo lands a blistering open hand chop to Sanders' bosom, rocking the blonde back on her perch. Nyssa then reaches for Kylie's skull, intending to deliver her Navajo Cutter.
NAVAJO CUTTER @3:05:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=pplzbP2AlEk
But before Nyssa can rip the champion off her seat and remove whatever senses remain, Alexis leaps to the apron and rings her arms around Kylie's waist. It's another tug of war over possession of the elfin blonde with Suguitan determined to keep her fellow Associate anchored lest she lose the World crown. On the other side, Nyssa wants her signature Cutter in the worst way, tasting FAWN's top spot. The official, already providing some leeway in not DQing Kylie. most likely for Bloodwind's sake, starts a count on the Filipino catfighter and at 'FOUR', instead of releasing Sanders, she shoves Kylie forward, hoping to catch the Navajo unprepared and send Kylie and her challenger on an unscheduled 'splashy' trip to the canvas with Nyssa underneath.
Suguitan gambit pays off. The shove from the exotic brunette sends Kylie into the Nubile Navajo, the elfin blonde's impact with Bloodwind knocking her from the middle rope and sending both women crashing to the mat. Only instead of Nyssa slamming Kylie's face into the canvas, the reigning and defending World champ's belly 'THAAAAP's down across the Native American's, knocking the wind out of the brunette.
ONE...
TWO...
NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!
Breathless or not, Nyssa still manages to kick out, sending Kylie flopping to her back as the Nubile Navajo rolls toward the ropes.
While Nyssa rolls, Kylie rocks from side to side, unable to more for long seconds. The women, both looking like they've gone through a war, start toward vertical and reach there simultaneously. With a shriek, Kylie emerges from a wobbly stupor mid-ring to run at her raven-haired foe on the ropes. Dipping a shoulder to spear Nyssa in half, Sanders' ivory legs pump her toward the target of Bloodwind's open belly.
"GYYYYYUUUUUHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!" The hard-charging Pleasant Valley Princess PLOWS her shoulder into Bloodwind's midriff, the challenger lifted off her feet and folded across it as Kylie drives her first into and then THROUGH the ropes. The cables serve to break Sanders' momentum, but shooting through the gap in the middle and top strands, Nyssa has no such luxury. The sweat-drenched Native American beauty falls through the air, hitting the thinly padded floor with a loud 'THOOONK' and dull moan.
As Alexis hovers dangerously around the nearest corner, Kylie sucks in oxygen in great gulps. She slides through the ropes and remains on the apron, knowing Nyssa would be fighting her way up to make it back inside the squared circle. Sanders stands poised, moving down the length of the ring and stationing herself for a running start as Nyssa ascends. Bloodwind's push off the floor is like a starter's gun and Kylie races toward her, head on, leaping as she closes to take her down with a Thesz Press and get to work with a series of blasphemous infringing backhand chops to the chest of the Navajo.
Kylie might not weigh all that much, but with a good head of steam, she's more than capable of riding Nyssa down to the floor... and though Bloodwind's back touches down first, her cranium whiplashes backward, the back of her skull striking the scarcely effective layer of padding HARD... The blow leaves the Native American clearly dazed, so much so that her arms barely twitch through the first few chops sent toward her sternum by Sanders. Even when those wings finally do start to rise, they are slow, barely providing an obstacle to Kylie's affront. But one obstacle IS provided--a verbal one from the official, who orders the Hawkeye to bring things back into the ring.
Sanders turns to the man, delivering a hateful stare. "One for the road," she says, and fashions a vertical knife-edge as she brings her attention back to Bloodwind. Kylie strikes with the tomahawk into Nyssa's forehead, the challenger's dark eyes crossing after impact. "G'night," Kylie huffs, a weary smirk emerging as she climbs off, struggles to the apron, and is barely able to roll herself under the ropes, immediately flopping into a spreadeagle on the canvas, staring blankly into the rafters.
At first, Navajo Nation lets Kylie know--in NO uncertain terms--what they think of the manner in which she's regained control, jeering the Pleasant Valley Princess at full volume. But as the count nears the midway point without so much as a spasm from Nyssa, they soon turn their attention to rallying their beloved. "NU-BILE NAV-A-JO!" the FAWNatics once again begin to chant...
... and, just past the official's "FIVE!", Bloodwind's right arm lifts off the floor. Just a little bit, mind you, her fingers waving upward. As the audience increases their volume, the ref shouts, "SIX!"
... and Nyssa works her way up to her hands and knees.
"SEVEN!"
The Nubile Navajo begins to crawl toward the ring...
Kylie, up to a seated position, chews her lower lip, not believing when Bloodwind uses the apron to rise at 'EIGHT'.
The Hawkeye wraps her arms around her head in worried disbelief, shaking her head, but knowing she can't make a move without the striped prick starting his count over. And indeed the ref keeps the corner of one eye peeled for the blonde in black, ready to lower to 'ONE' with a hint of impropriety. With Nyssa on her feet and swinging a knee up to the apron at ''NINE', Kylie seems forlorn the fight will continue...
... but with a half-tick to spare, Bloodwind spills to the floor. The zebra spins to the timekeeper and calls for the bell even as a frantic crowd screams in unison, many pointing toward the apron, a pair of long copper-skinned stems receding under the ring.
The sound of the bell is Suguitan cue to release Bloodwind's Uggs... and with a speed born of righteous fury, Nyssa dives back under the bottom rope, immediately rising to her knees. Having signaled the official end of the match, the ref is already moving to give Kylie her title back--albeit with some reluctance. But the Nubile Navajo grabs his wrist, spinning the zebra to face her.
"ALEXIS!" Bloodwind wails. "She had my ankles! She KEPT me from getting back in the ring! You SAW me almost back in! PLEEEEAAASSSEEE... you can't let that BYTCH win THIS way!!!"
An indignant Kylie pushes a shoulder of the challenger. "Get this sore loser out of my ring," the blonde demands of the official. Sanders snatches the gold from him and hugs it close, grin growing wider by the second. Raising an arm, she points the way for Nyssa to depart if she doesn't want to not only lose but leave on a stretcher. "And you know I can AND I WILL do it, dontcha."
Oddly enough, the Nubile Navajo moves in the exact opposite direction, springing to her feet and going nose to nose and chest to chest with the infuriating blonde champion. "You wanna put me down? You THINK you CAN put me down? Last time, you needed a CHAIR! This time, it was your skanky penthouse pal! Because..." Bloodwind JABS a finger into Kylie's bosom. "You KNOW! You KNOW that, just YOU, just ME? I would kick your ass up and down every aisle of this building!!!"
Kylie throws her hands up. "Calm down," Ky gulps noticeably. "I'm taking my world championship and I'm going home. You go to the back of the line." Sanders turns quickly to get out of Dodge, but a furious Nyssa grabs a shoulder. "You're not," she growls and spins Kylie to face her, but along with the blonde turning back toward her is the faceplate of FAWN's top prize and the shiny metal is headed directly for the bridge of Bloodwind's nose, the champion having all the disrespect she could take.
"Nyyyyyuuuuuuuuunnnnnnhhhhhhhh..." Gold plating meets bronzed skin, Nyssa's head snapping back harshly from the force of the ten pound strap BLASTING her in the force. And where Bloodwind's head goes, the rest of her body follows, the Native American's exquisite stems flying out from underneath her as she falls to the mat. Navajo Nation ERUPTS into a new chorus of boos and whistles, some of their number beginning to throw their trash toward the ring as Nyssa is left splattered, blinking up at the ceiling, her eyes suddenly thoroughly glazed over.
From the opposite side of her previous disappearance, the missing Alexis slides into the ring, proceeds to the champion, Kylie barking over the blasted Bloodwind, and lifts the elfin blonde high as the announcer tries to raise his amplified voice over the din from the FAWNatics. "Your winner and STILL FAWN World Champion...Kylie Sanders!" The jeers are at jet engine proportions, and even the growing chants of "TROLL" can't lower this high for the once upon a time Pleasant Valley Princess. Suguitan sets Sanders back to earth but only so she can place a boot atop the faux deerskin bottoms of the Nubile Navajo, Kylie claiming her Gladiatrix money shot. "NEXT!" the platinum blonde shouts loudly and succinctly. [/i]