Post by hawkeye on Apr 11, 2023 1:24:50 GMT
Fresh off a triumphant title defense in her home country, record-breaking Intercontinental champion Victoria Hackenschmidt returns to FAWN to defend her title. Who against? A woman who once drew the ire of fans and now has their love and deep respect. Trixie Decker. Her first chance at a FAWN title in ages, in part thanks to overwhelming demand from the FAWNatics stemming Trixie’s independent success, her new marriage with Kanako Akiyama, and their war with Kate Grimm and Taffy Black.
Will Victoria get Jinxed and finally lose the title she brought back to prominence? Will Trixie finally get the gold and validation from the company she’s shed blood, sweat and tears for? Or will The Knight lay low her enemy once again and continue her endless championship reign?
Let’s find out!
As the fans return from their treks to the merch table and bathroom breaks, all the lights in the arena cut out. Ten seconds of complete darkness filled with an excited hollering follow… and then it’s broken by booming orchestra music and a shaft of light dead center on the stage. The audio of Giacomo Puccini’s three-stage opera feels perfectly appropriate, with the sight of The Knight stepping through the curtains. Victoria drinks in the uproarious response the FAWNatics give her; they’re friendlier than they used to be. There’s still the core of negativity, but it’s drowned out by the people earnestly congratulating her accomplishments.
Hackenschmidt takes a calming breath through her nose and sets down the ramp. The German giant stands tall and armourless except for her head. She wears a silver Corinthian helmet that protects the back and sides of her skull but leaves her high-boned cheeks free with a strip of metal stretched down from the center opening to cover her nose. The helm is smooth other than an artful etching that circles the top of the skull resembling a bejewelled crown. The most crucial thing on Victoria’s person is around her waist, the vaunted Intercontinental Championship belt. Under the spotlight, it shines as the brightest beacon to any potential challenger, employed by FAWN or not, to try and pry it from The Valiant One’s grasp.
Head bowed in silent prayer, her hands clutch a cross-hilted broadsword nearly four feet in length, a replica of a family heirloom that hung over the fireplace in her family estate in Hesse. Shaking off negative thoughts with a mighty roar, Victoria flexes her powerful arms and hefts the replica blade up to a cheering audience, then onto her shoulder before beginning her march towards the ring, the spotlights following her every step.
"Standing at 5 feet 11 inches and weighing in at 152 pounds!! From Phoenix, Arizona, by way of Hesse, Germany!! She is The Valiant One!! The Intercontinental Champion, Victoria “The Knight” Hackenschmidt!!!”
VICTORIA HACKENSCHMIDT
The IC champ marches to the ring in her white halter top, revealing miles of lightly toned, pale tummy with matching boy-cut shorts that cling to her tight hindquarters. White boots and knee pads looking newly shined, and an elbow-length fingerless white glove on her right arm; all her gear has thin black lines that weave and intersect to resemble the plate armour she usually wears to the ring.
Before the bell, Victoria tries to keep her mind on the match ahead, but she still reaches her free arm out to Hi-Five FAWNatics, leaning over the guardrail. The Valiant One briefly detours to a set of steel steps where a solid-looking metal box with a small slit cut into the top sat by the ring apron. Hackenschmidt takes the sword off her shoulder and swiftly swings it in a broad circle before smoothly plunging it down into the box, next she takes off her helmet, revealing her windswept blonde hair is longer than a pixie cut but too short of reaching past her earlobes.
As her music dies down, the entrance euphoria dies along with it. A switch flips for a quarter of the Orlando audience, and the air fills with a cacophony of noise, boos and cheers competing for dominance. The feral fans want a champ with a little more skin or a colourful demeanour, but Victoria’s winning them over; her fan mail no longer contains threats made from letters cut out from magazines!
“HHhey Vicky!!!” A particularly loud fan near the timekeeper’s can be heard over the din of the crowd. A ginger woman in horn rimmed glasses cups her hands around her mouth as she screams to the wrestler, her faded Super Friends t-shirt stretched over her large chest. “I know Decker’s pair isn’t as big as Danica’s but you're taking a nap between them tonight!!!”
“Hm.. she’s a noisy one.” Victoria muses, trying not to let the fan’s rancour affect her mindset as the official pats her down.
“WOLF LIKE ME” BY LOCAL H
The music shifts to angry guitar chords, the opening of Local H’s “Wolf Like Me.” FAWNatics crane their necks to see who is coming out to this song. Silhouetted in purple and blue lights, with smoke pouring from the ramp, a slight figure watches them before stepping into the spotlight.
TRIXIE DECKER
It has been a bit since Trixie appeared in FAWN for solo work and the attendees seem much more receptive towards her. Clad in her usual black bikini, boots, and net shirt, the only thing different about her is longer hair, more scars, and a couple of tattoos.
She slowly walks towards the ring, slapping hands with fans, but her eyes never leave the ring. Instead, she locks her eyes on her opponent for the night, offering a weird little smirk as she does. Finally, Trixie pulls herself up onto the ring skirt and slides in through the ropes. She waves to the fans, but continues to watch Victoria closer… to a point the referee becomes a tad nervous and backs her into her corner to pat her down.
Once the zebra is sure Trixie is unarmed, he backs away and signals to the timekeeper.
DINGDING!!
These two women, polar opposites in family history, physicality, and demeanour, stand across from each in the ring and observe. Victoria is stone-faced, trying to measure what version of Trixie she is facing tonight; the champion has watched Trixie’s exploits outside of FAWN with an attentive eye, each promotion seems to get a different side of The Jinx, but they’re all equally violent if the need arises. It is not the Beatrix alter; that much is certain, but the woman in front of her appears very focused, confident… and quiet. Victoria finds that very worrying.
The inscrutable smirk on the challenger’s face grows a touch more like she’s learned something about Victoria, setting the champion on edge. With the tension at its highest, Hackenscmidt strides out from her corner, walking on a direct path to her opponent. Trixie’s a half step behind, but she’s moving with the same pace and swagger she came down the ramp with. The two opponents meet at the center ring within fist-swinging distance. The stare continues until Victoria makes the first move; she offers a handshake.
“Viel Glück. Good luck. I wish it hadn't taken me breaking a record to finally face you.”
Trixie’s persona breaks, and she smiles warmly, “Oh, I bet you love casually bringing that up, don’t ya?” She takes the champion's hand and gives it a firm shake; when they separate, they back up and circle each other in mirroring stances. “I’m honoured for the opportunity. I hope me taking your title won’t sour on you coming over for dinner with the wife and me.”
Now Victoria smirks, “I bet you love casually bringing up Kanako, don’t you?”
Now Trixie’s smirk returns, telling Victoria the time for pleasantries is over. She replies with mirth, “I do,” And she raises her hand for a Test of Strength. Victoria raises an eyebrow, “Interesting choice,” She rarely does this since Victoria normally towers over her opponents, and it would be tacky to press that advantage. Decker must have something planned, but she can't back down; she's the Intercontinental champion after all.
Hackenschmidt slowly interlocks her hand with Trixie's and applies a probing amount of power while looking for traps. The brunette's arm wavers but doesn't immediately collapse; they bring their free arms into the Test, The challenger gives up 8 inches and 35 lbs to the champ, and now the crowd truly sees the physical disparity between the two. Trixie places her feet back and tries to be as immovable as a steel column, but with disturbing ease, Victoria bends her wrists back and slowly moves into the veteran's space.
‘What do they feed this girl?’ Ponders Trixie alarmingly as the soles of her boots skid on the canvas. Victoria’s trying to keep her face neutral, but Trixie can see a little bit of smugness trickling in and thinks aloud, "Welp, time to burst that bubble."
Trixie keeps her arms straight but relaxes her knees, allowing a surprised Hackenschmidt to unexpectedly push The Jinx onto her haunches and then put her shoulders on the mat. The official starts lower for a Count when Trixie pulls her knees to her chest and spreads them out, bracing against their still-locked arms. When Trixie brings her stems to the mat, their arms come as well, turning Hackenschmidt inside out and putting the German giant flat on her back with her long legs in the air! This time the ref gets to Count for real!
ONE!
TWO!!
Victoria bucks into a backroll! Ripping her hands free from Decker’s and saving her title. She ends up on one knee with fists ready to fly to see a grinning Trixie in the same position with her index and thumb a centimetre apart. “This close. That’s all I need, honey.”
Victoria wracked her brains for what she knew about Trixie. Small, can take a beating. A self-described pervert. But not known for aerial or gymnastic moves. The larger woman straightened up and barreled at Trixie with an arm stretched out to Clothesline The Jinx’s head clean off.
It was quite a surprise to Victoria when Trixie threw herself back into a handspring, letting the arm soar over her. She stopped short, confused. That was not something she’d seen the imp do in FAWN before. But before Victoria could react, she felt a sting of pain as a black boot slammed into the outside of her right knee, then again on the inside. Hackenschmidt dropped to the knee as agony burnt up the leg. But that pain was quickly eclipsed by what she felt when a boot slammed into her neck.
Victoria fell forward, clutching the injury and trying not to swear. Meanwhile, Decker bolted towards the cables, hopping and flipping off the top rope. She landed, feet first, onto Victoria’s shoulders. Before the larger fighter could react, Trixie hopped up again and dropped to her ass, landing on Victoria’s neck. She finished the quick attack by driving an elbow into the back of the paladin’s head before rolling backwards and dismounting.
Victoria scrambled to her feet and whirled to face Trixie. The smaller woman was crouched and watching her, like a small predatory wildcat, taking in Victoria’s reactions and state but also just out of reach. The Knight tries to be composed and socially acceptable at all times, but the bit of pink on her cheeks and the way Victoria blinks tell Trixie she's flustered.
"I studied matches of yours to prepare for this," Hackenschmidt says with a raised eyebrow as she cautiously side-steps away from the ropes, "But it appears my research material was outdated."
Trixie does an unnecessary side roll for fun and pops up in a wrestler's stance, moving slightly up and down like a video game character. "I'm not one to sit still, I'm always wrestling and picking things up as I go."
Victoria nods approvingly, "I admire that; since becoming part of the FAWN roster, I've seen lots of bluster, but a lack of follow-through!" Victoria's voice rises as she goes from zero to 60 in the span of a heartbeat dashing at the tricky Trixie with another Clothesline. The big blonde is faster than Trixie expected or likes and has to throw up a boxer’s guard to protect her person; the Clothesline connects with her forearms, but the blow still takes Trixie off her feet. The newlywed’s on her back marveling at the vibration in her bones from the hit, and sees Victoria cock an elbow and drop it; Trixie rolls away in time, letting the German’s joint strike the hard covered-plywood that is the ring’s floor.
“Rrra!”
Victoria instinctively curls inward and clutches her funny bone leaving her open to an Elbow Drop to the back of the neck that hits true; since the champion was so kind as to get down on the canvas for her, Trixie does it again and again. She peppers The Knight with hammer punches and forearm strikes about the neck and upper back, Trixie’s making the most of this opportunity, and she’ll work Hackenschmidt like a heavy bag if she has to!
The Valiant One won’t take this lying down; throughout the rain of tiny fists, Victoria has been powering to her knees and blindly throwing out powerful swings. Only a few lands, but with the champ’s strength, that's enough to slow and stagger the respectable pervert and make her consider switching to hit-and-run tactics. "Guaugh!" Trixie's assault is finally halted by Hackenschmidt putting her palms together and spiking an elbow into the challenger's gut. The fighter from Flint doubles over looking winded, while Victoria wearily steps ahead and gladly stands up straight.
There's only a brief respite for the Towering Teuton before Trixie climbs her like a jungle gym and slaps on a Sleeper! Victoria becomes a bull at the rodeo and violently twists and turns, trying to dislodge the Lightweight and pry Trixie's pale arms from her neck. The Jinx stays stuck to her prey and adds a waist-tightening body scissors as a safety measure.
"How about you turn in early, huh?" Trixie suggests as she clenches down harder against Victoria’s carotid. “A title reign this long must be exhausting. I know I’d-!”
The Knight cuts off Decker’s mind games with a rapid acceleration to the farthest corner! Victoria’s a big blonde blur as she races across the Squared Circle; as she nears the turnbuckles, Victoria spins to crush the sock monkey on her back in the-
Trixie breaks the body scissors and swings her stems back to kick against the top buckle! Both Trixie and Victoria look uncomfortable with the feeling of the impact, but even the halted crash loosened the Sleeper enough for Victoria to breathe. She’s about to reach for Decker’s hair when the challenger gets inspired and pulls herself into a seat on Victoria’s shoulders to apply a tenuous Headscissors. Before Victoria can worry about the pressure, Decker throws herself down the German’s front and puts Victoria on the mat with a Victory Roll!
VICTORY ROLL
Trixie doesn’t even get a one count before Victoria shoves her up and off, with Decker landing almost a foot away. Victoria gets to her feet, her frustration getting harder and harder to hide. Decker runs at Hackenschmidt but is intercepted, spun and planted to the mat, full force.
Victoria wastes no time going for a pin, folding Trixie as tightly as she can - almost perfectly in half - and leaning all her weight against her.
One…
Tw–
Alas for the champ, the smaller woman still has too much fight and rocks herself to the side, getting a shoulder up. Victoria feels an urge to roll Trixie onto her back and ground-pound her in the face but pushes back against it. It’s not a knightly thing to do… and she knows for a fact that won’t put Trixie down. She’s seen what Decker’s endured in FAWN, including a four-on-one with weapons and no rules.
Instead, she grabs Trixie by the scruff of the neck and hurls her towards the ropes - only to cut that trip off with a short arm across the throat! Trixie flips a full three-sixty before landing on the mat. The Knight goes to follow with a legdrop across the chest but Decker scampers from the impact zone, letting the larger German take a seat on the canvas. She watches as Trixie pops up and wags a finger, grinning wide. If this look came from someone Victoria hated, it would definitely be awakening something in her. Instead, it’s just a bit embarrassing.
But Trixie can see Victoria is getting more and more flustered, which is usually when Trixie shines most. She circles Victoria, who watches as the slowly rises. Suddenly, she breaks and changes directions, and Victoria’s head yanks in the new direction just as Trixie doubles back, speaking to Victoria.
The German strains to listen, but she can’t hear anything Trixie’s saying. She tries to read her lips but it doesn’t seem to make sense. Instinctively, she leans a little closer despite herself.
There are two reasons she doesn’t understand what Trixie’s saying. First, Trixie is saying nothing - not out loud. She’s mouthing silently. Second, she’s not “mouthing” in English but Roma (not to be confused with Romanian). And what she’s mouthing is a series of old sayings. But it gets enough attention and, more importantly, the desired effect of dividing Victoria’s attention that Trixie delivers a spinning heel kick right into the bridge of her opponent’s nose. Victoria stumbles back, trying not to break into a stream of swears, while Trixie rolls towards her, sending a double-boot kick up into Victoria’s jaw.
Victoria’s head snaps back, and instinct takes over. She throws a stomp down, aiming for Trixie’s gut but missing - instead driving her heel into Trixie’s crotch… a perfect hit. Both women separate, clutching their wounds. The official immediately goes to Victoria.
“No low blows!” he warns, but Trixie raises a hand.
“Ease off her,” Decker complains. “That was obviously not what she was going for, okay?” She looks to Victoria. “Right?”
Victoria nods. “Of course. I would never.”
“We’re all good, no need for the warning,” Trixie assures the official, extending a hand to Victoria. “It’s a fight, not a war. I know you better than to think you’d sink.”
Victoria stared at the hand as fans who preferred her darker side chanted for her to go ballistic on Trixie and tear her to shreds. Trixie’s been playing her like a puppet since the match began… but it would be too duplicitous for The Jinx to betray her at this moment. She takes the hand and gives it a firm squeeze. “Thank you, I-”
Panic floods Victoria’s senses as Decker yanks her arm- pulling her into a hug. Cheek pressed into the much taller woman’s chest, Decker pats Victoria’s back, “Sorry about all the cloak and dagger, but this is my shot, and I might not get another shot, ya know?’
The Knight may not like it, but she does understand. She returns the hug with her free arm. “Ja, I would feel insulted if you did not give me everything you had.”
“Goddamn, you’re bad at being big!!!” the boisterous, busty fan that heckled Victoria during her entrance makes her presence known again. “What’s the point of being a yeti if the little women walk all over you!? Or is that your kink!?”
Victoria grumbles wordlessly, the FAWNatics’ toxicity is no longer a shock, but it is still annoying. The friendly pressure of the hug increases to something far more worrying to Trixie before Hackenschmidt releases, her face her usual standard of dignified composure. “Well then, let’s again, shall we?” Trixie hides any fear she felt during The Knight’s slip with a smile. “Let’s do.” Inwardly she’s cussing out that beer-addled fangirl in the stands. Partially for being rude, mostly for fucking up her carefully crafted strategy. Fluster the giant, don’t anger the giant. Trixie has NO intention of awakening Hackenschmidt’s Blood Knight personality. As they separate and begin to circle each other for an opening, Trixie consciously keeps her gait and vibe steady and cool, but make no mistake The Jinx is hurtin’. Her plan to minimize Victoria’s offense is working, but whatever successful attacks from the German lands like a car carrier loaded with Volkswagens. She may have gotten up quickly after that Short-arm, but that's due to Trixie's experience on the carnival circuit wrestling full matches after a go on the Gravitron.
Sick of falling for Trixie's feints, Victoria decides to make the first move and rockets forward with a Clothesline, determined to finally land one on the slippery Indie Icon. With machine smoothness, Trixie lowers as she runs toward The Knight, dodging- No! Victoria drops lower than Trixie and, with the slightest grip on her sides, thrusts the challenger high into the air. Trixie tries to recover with an improvised Hurricanrana, but the German woman just takes her by the hips and sets fire to her spine with a Pop Up Powerbomb.
POP UP POWERBOMB
The official’s fast to slide in for a count but Victoria knows it’d be futile and rolls Decker backward onto her front, then pulls her to stand by the scruff of the glassy-eyed veteran’s net shirt. Victoria takes a big step back and Irish Whips Decker into a corner; the challenger turns in time, and her back connects with the turnbuckles with ring-shaking force. Trixie's face gnarls as she ricochets out of the corner only for Hackenschmidt’s large arm to whap! above her breasts and knock The Jinx horizontal.
“It was bugging me that I couldn’t land it,” Victoria explains as she shakes out her arm above Trixie’s gasping form.
Victoria grabs Trixie by the arm and yanks her out toward the center of the ring before rocketing her to the ropes. On the rebound, Victoria leaps over Trixie, letting her whip to the opposite cables, while she herself jumps off the ropes in front of her and catches Trixie in a springboard DDT - or as she called it, the Hindenburg.
THE HINDENBURG
Immediately, the German yanks Trixie closer and covers her.
One…
Two…
THR–
To Victoria’s shock, and building frustration, Trixie bucks out. Victoria looked up at the referee, who held up two fingers. She wants to argue, but she knows he was right. And then, from the audience, that fan’s voice booms.
“Can’t even keep her down!” This was followed by hateful chortling. “C’mon! Go crazy! Or are they finally medicating you?”
The frustration turns to rage and, suddenly, Victoria drives a fist down into Trixie’s face, right between her eyes.
“WHOA!” the referee bellows. “No closed fists!”
Victoria barely listens to him as she yanks Trixie up by the throat and hurls her into a corner. Hackenschmidt barrels her shoulder into Trixie’s midsection, folding the smaller woman over. Outside of the ring, she hears that voice again.
“Oh, look who fuckin’ showed up to fight!” the fan cackled.
All the past indignities well up. Every insult, every doubt, and all she can do is focus it on Trixie, punching her over and over in the face until the referee forcibly gets between the two.
“You’re lucky I don’t disqualify you now!” he warns.
“For what?!” Victoria snaps back.
“I counted to five, Hackenschmidt!” he shoots back. “That and I warned you about the punches.”
“I offered you an open hand,” Victoria heard from behind the official, “and you repay me with a closed fist.”
“You can’t get into my head again,” Victoria says, looking past the official. But her smirk vanishes when she sees Trixie’s expression beneath flecks of color. The humor Trixie is known for is completely gone. Before she can say anything, the official begins to forcefully back her up.
“You gonna take that, Sasquatch?!” the fan shrieks. “Or you gonna go down in a sass-squash?” Victoria can hear other fans laughing at her joke, and it burns.
But Victoria attempts to tune it out. “Es tut m–” She stopped herself, remembering to use English. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m your opponent,” Trixie calmly reminded her. “Not that loudmouth. Okay?”
“Yes, I’m sorry” Victoria bows her head, properly contrite and feeling ashamed. She’s been working hard to keep control of herself in matches, but thicker skin means what gets through hurts more. The regretful Knight backs away, giving Trixie the space to collect herself; the challenger licks her lips tasting the familiar touch of copper and takes a calming breath. She sounds much less friendly than when they exchanged pleasantries at the start, “Okay. Glad we got that settled.”
Trixie marches out of the corner with her arms up and ready to tangle; no plays or fake-outs this time, Trixie throws herself into an Elbow and Collar with her larger opponent. Her controlled anger gives Decker the extra oompf to back up Victoria a few paces, but the blonde quickly shores up her stance and halts the noteworthy newlywed’s progression and shoves Trixie into the cables, rebounding the goth into a Headbutt to the gut. Decker lets out a deep groan as Victoria readjusts to thread her skull between Trixie’s pale stems and take them above the knees.
Victoria stands up, draping Decker down her back like a frustrated cape and walks deeper into the Squared Circle; her cargo senses what’s coming and digs two digging Claws into the German’s kidneys as a deterrent. It makes Victoria wince, but it’s not enough to stop what’s coming. Out of deference to her earlier faux pas, she warns Decker, “Grit your teeth for this next part,” and whips the Lightweight off her back onto the mat with a rope-shaking Alabama Slam! The Knight keeps hold of Trixie’s ankles and presses them together before folding them over the challenger’s body and taking a seat on the backs of her thighs. A decisive show of the champion’s power in another retention.
ONE!
TWO!!
Victoria’s bucked into a high straddle by Trixie’s kick out, the frustration at being woman-handled adding power to the goth’s comparably slight frame. Not unexpected but not ideal in Victoria’s mind; she picks Trixie up by the shoulders of her net shirt, purposefully avoiding her hair, and sends her into a neutral corner with an Irish Whip- Trixie halts the whip and contorts the limb with an Arm Wringer and spikes a punch into a clawed kidney.
“GnnhF!” Hackenschmidt shudders and falters a step. Trixie bends the captured arm into a Hammerlock to duck under the German’s free arm and circles back, twisting the limb’s together in a knot designed by a Girl Scout from hell. For the final touch, Decker presses a heel into the pit of Hackenschmidt’s left knee and forces it to the canvas. The FAWNatics give the challenger some applause for this display of a Jacobs or Burlingame-level technique.
??
“You like this one!?” Trixie grits, bracing the joints of the champion’s arms against each other, making Victoria shout in pain, “It’s something I picked up teaming with Alosia Berge in India!”
From a personal standpoint, no. This is VERY painful. From a professional standpoint, “Hnk! Yes, it’s quite clever! I will remember to use it in future boutsERGH!”
Trixie’s happy for the compliment, but that’s not what she’s looking for, still miffed about the beating minutes ago, she chokes up on the tangle of arms and grinds her heel on the back of the IC champ’s knee. After Victoria’s done beating her boot against the mat and hissing, she promises, “If I leave your arms attached after this, I’ll teach it to you.”
As apologetic as Hackenschmidt is, she won’t take a threat to her title lying down. Gnashing her teeth, The Towering Teuton goes red in the face, and veins pulse in her forehead as she wills her body against nature’s design and powers Trixie off her limbs, sending the challenger tripping onto a knee. The Jinx curses and promptly pushes off the mat with a side kick- that Victoria catches by the ankle. She pulls Trixie into a Front Facelock and takes one of her patellas, back rolls onto the mat with the Lightweight in tow and straightens on a side with Trixie choking between her sculpted thighs with a Triangle hold!
TRIANGLE HOLD
“Maybe we’ll make it a fair trade, and I’ll teach you this one,” Victoria tries not to sound full of herself as watches Decker’s face immediately flush. The Valiant One braces her palms against the canvas as her steely stems cut off the air to the veteran’s body. As her vision swirls and her pulse turns rapid, Decker’s lower body becomes electrified in blindly searching for the nearest set of ropes. Lady luck gives Trixie a late wedding gift; her black boot presses against the bottom cable, and the ref yells, “Break!”
Victoria immediately starts to back up, but before she can get too far, Trixie grabs her leg and rips it from under her. The German flails backwards, slamming onto her back. Trixie promptly gets up and kicks Victoria in the temple. The champion instantly rolls away, pushing herself up and clutching the point of impact. Victoria palms Trixie in the chest, thrusting her into the corner. Hackenschmidt rushes at Trixie, shoulder lowered to slam into the smaller goth. Trixie pushes herself up with the top cables, letting Victoria ram the ringpost only. When the champ turns around, Trixie cracks a chop across her chest.
Trixie grabs the larger woman by her ears and yanks her from the corner, sending a kick into her gut. As Victoria folds over, Trixie hops onto her back. Hackenschmidt attempts to dump her off, but Trixie drives her to the mat with a reverse wheelbarrow bulldog.
REVERSE WHEELBARROW BULLDOG
Trixie immediately slaps an armbar on Victoria, bracing herself with a knee across the amazon’s throat. Victoria spasms in agony as the official attempts to check for a submission. Unable to hide the pain, Victoria just shakes her head in a negative. Finally, Trixie rises - still holding the arm - and kicks the trapped limb so hard most expect it to bend the wrong way. The goth backs away, letting Victoria slowly rise.
Again, outside from the ring, Victoria heard that familiar drunken cackling soaring towards her. “Bitch, are you Heimlich? Cuz this little girl got you fuckin’ CHOKING!” A few other fans join in a chant of, “Choke! Choke! Choke!”
Victoria feels that rage building again as she gets to her feet and charges at Trixie. However, Decker is in her element. Usually, she does the egging on but she still knows how to use this. Trixie hops backwards onto the top rope, rolling backwards while holding on. Pulling the rope down, Trixie lets Victoria sail over the ropes, out of the ring, and into the barricade. Trixie pulls herself back up onto the skirt and into the ring. Running across the ring, she whips herself off the ropes, races back and leaps throw the middle and top ropes, feet first. As Victora starts to push herself up, a pair of black boots slam into her head, crushing her back into the barricade.
Victoria slides down the metal bars, seeing stars. There’s a ringing in her ears which fades to that familiar, hateful chortling. She looks up and - of course - the busty, drunk heckler is in the front row.
“C’mon, you ain’t even trying!” the woman spits into Victoria’s face. “Lemme help you up.” The woman reaches over the barricade to pull Hackenschmidt up by her hair, but the second she touches Victoria’s blonde locks, Trixie grabs her by the wrists and rips the drunk over the steel fencing.
At first, the woman seems almost proud to be a part of the show, even if most people are decidedly laughing at her. Trixie, however, gets in her face. “You do realize that touching her constitutes assault, right?”
“Awww, you gonna toss me out?” the woman says, looming closer.
“Toss. I like that.” Trixie sends a low blow up between the drunk woman’s legs. As the woman bends over, screaming, Trixie grabs her and heaves her backwards into the steel steps. The drunk doesn’t even get a chance to gather her wits before Trixie has her in the same armbar.
“I am fucking sick of you giving Victoria shit,” Trixie hisses, pulling harder and harder on the woman’s arm. “You can’t do what she does, and then you grab her? Bitch, this is a taste of what she’s been getting and you’re already crying!”
Security finally arrives and Trixie releases the hold. The woman, sobbing hysterically, tries rewriting the events to the security guards, as if it wasn’t all recorded. Trixie watches them leave as Victoria rises. Standing behind Trixie, the Blood Knight inside her points out this would be a perfect opportunity to sneak attack her. But… Trixie stood up for her.
Trixie looks back at Victoria, seemingly reading her thoughts. “Get in the ring so we’re not counted out,” is all she says before rolling under the bottom rope and waiting.
There’s a half second where Hackenschmidt thought this yet another ploy by the tricky veteran, and she would feel an Elbow Drop the moment she slid under the ropes. But the champ moves past her suspicions and enters the ring, accosted, her trust in Decker is again validated.
“I appreciate your assistance with… diese Hündin,” Trixie stifles a laugh at Victoria’s brief slip out of professionalism. “After my last match with Danica, I can’t afford another fan incident.”
“I saw that! It was amazing,” Trixie gives Vic a light punch in the shoulder, “I know something about dealing with shit fans. I’ve had my bad days too.”
Victoria nods in understanding, she would go for a hug, but that would make destroying Trixie and keeping the title much harder. She widens her stance and waves Trixie closer, “Now it’s too awkward to start again. Could you chop me to reset?”
Trixie raises an eyebrow, she knows Victoria means well, but this is a tad insulting, “You’re giving me a free shot?”
“You get a Chop, you could try something else, but I cannot guarantee my response,” The champion spreads her arms wider, “Come now, show me what you-”
Trixie aims her shoulder at Victoria and lights up her chest with a Knife-Edge, the sound of flesh hitting flesh echoes in the air, The Towering Teuton is unmoved and seems unbothered, “You can do better. Try again.” Trixie’s eyes narrow and she gives the big blonde a CRACKing shot; Victoria is frustratingly encouraging, “Much better, now we can move forward.”
And Decker does move forward by unloading on the German’s chest with a barrage of Chops! The Jinx is gonna put The Knight on her ass if it’s the last thing she does; Decker’s arm becomes a blur as she tries to cut down this big German tree.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
CRACK!
OOOOHHHH!!!
Hackenschmidt grows tired of Trixie’s attacks and answers back with a Chop of her own, though it could be better described as a Cleave; She swings a mighty palm and strikes Trixie’s chest with such force the goth twists and spins a full 360 before crashing to the mat, writhing and massaging what must be a handprint bruise that goes to her skeleton. The FAWNatics collectively cringe and moan in sympathy for the Lightweight’s pain. Later tonight, a clip of that moment will be edited and shared over Twitter to show Trixie being reduced to dust; Anciline De Cyr will pin it as a gift to her social medias. Victoria pulls the challenger up by the wrists just to double her over with a kneelift and quickly spins to get side-to-side with the veteran. Victoria works her powerful arms under Decker’s and straightens her up in a neck-kinking Full Nelson Hold.
The challenger tries to be like water and slips out of the hold. Unfortunately, Victoria flexes in conjunction with every twitch of Trixie’s muscles, keeping the smaller wrestler painfully stooped over as the back deeper into the ring. The official nears to ask Trixie if she wants to submit and has to dodge the goth’s whipping arms; Decker’s being shaken back and forth in the Full Nelson like a new toy in a puppy’s jaws. Hackenschmidt stops her brain-rattling movements to free one of Trixie’s arms, allowing The Knight to yank the brunette into a sudden and brutal Backbreaker. Trixie spasms violently over the plank of Victoria’s thigh, and she doesn’t have the time even to finish groaning before she’s pulled up by the hair and knocked off the Knight’s knee with a Clothesline.
Decker hits the deck limp as a retired ragdoll; her leg easily wrangled under an arm as Victoria balls her up in a tight Backpress pin.
ONE!
TWO!!
THRE-
Trixie kicks out! Digging deep, she finds the strength to buck out of the pin and save her dreams of title gold with a millisecond to spare. Victoria and most of the crowd must double-check with the referee to confirm the match’s continuation. She lets out a resigned sigh, “Mein Gott, you are resilient.”
“The benefit of growing up poor trash,” Trixie says as she rolls up to all fours. “Hard to kill.”
“But not impossible!” Victoria bellows as she throws a right toward Trixie’s face, but Decker throws herself backwards in a cartwheel. As the fist decimates the empty space her head was once in, Trixie’s own boot slams up into Victoria’s lower jaw. Victoria stumbles backwards as Trixie rights herself and launches between the German amazon’s legs - grabbing one leg as she slips through and yanking it from under Hackenschmidt.
Victoria drops, face first, into the canvas as Trixie rises and throws herself backwards. She drops an elbow, stabbing it between Victoria’s shoulder blades. Victoria releases a sound that is something between a squeak and a roar. She rolls on her back just as Trixie rolls off of her, landing in a ready position. Victoria thrusts herself up to her feet and lunges at Trixie with a lariat, but Trixie grabs the arm and pushes, spinning Victoria with her own momentum. Suddenly, Victoria feels two arms wrap around her waist and, to her shock, the tinier fighter lifts her off her feet and backwards to the mat in a Suplex.
Victoria’s shoulders slam into the mat as Trixie releases, not even attempting a pin. Instead, as Victoria sits up, a boot’s toe slams between her eyes.
That’s when Trixie goes for the pin.
One…
Two…
T-
Hackenschmidt bullies out of the cover and turns onto her elbows to prevent another. Now Trixie’s temper starts to flare a bit at the champion’s resilience and pounds knee after knee into The Destroyer’s flank, deadset on on battering the blonde onto her back for another pin. Hackenschimdt grunts and bleats under the barrage then falters under the onslaught going shoulders to canvas. Trixie throws herself into a Splash/cover but belly flops on the empty mat, Victoria having rolled to the sanctuary of the ropes a microsecond before.
The Knight scrambles to rise with the assistance of the cables as Trixie gets vertical; she presses into the coated steel strands and lunges at the brunette, sending her stumbling back with a short-range Shoulder check. Trixie almost topples over but gets her balance momentarily before Victoria locks an arm under the Goth and hoists her into a Hip Toss. Her carnival background comes in hand again; Decker rides through the swift change in momentum and flips through the throw, landing nimbly as the Tabaxi she plays in her D&D campaign. She didn't want to play a catperson initially, but Hazeema Mcmurray's cleavage made a flawless argument.
Trixie snatches the giant’s arm and throws her whole body weight into an Irish Whip that dies upon the attempt. Victoria stiffens at Trixie’s tugging, making her an unmovable mass, then she reverses the Whip with a yank that almost tears Decker’s arm from its socket. The challenger hits the ropes and speeds back, leaping into the air for Lou Thez Press. Victoria’s Destroyer Privilege makes itself evident by The Knight easily changing Trixie’s trajectory with a small push on her ribs, rocketing the petite newlywed upwards and letting her smack onto the ring floor with a Freefall Drop.
FREEFALL DROP
Trixie lets out a deep groan as she turns onto her side massaging her tummy, now sporting a new shade of pink. Victoria gives her challenger a helping hand to her feet and then some; with two hard grips on Trixie’s trapezius, Victoria heaves her from lying on the floor to kicking her feet in the air. Trixie flashes the camera a worried look before she’s bounced against the canvas with a Two-handed Chokeslam!
TWO-HANDED CHOKESLAM
Confused by pain, Trixie’s body cycles through some small, mindless jerks with her eyes closed; a warbled cry leaves her black lips as she feels what must be her soul leaving her body. The official dashes for a count, but Victoria knows it’d be futile with even a spark of life in The Jinx’s body. “Herkommen!” The champ orders, taking the near-insensate Trixie up with a hand on her throat. Placing her other hand on Trixie’s rear, Hackenschmidt jerks her prey high into the air and then makes an Alt-girl shaped crater in the ring with a Sit-Out Chokeslam!
HERO’S JOURNEY
Decker’s head tilts one cheek to the mat, the movement caused by the canvas vibrating from Decker’s crash. Her eyes are rolled up, and her mouth is slightly open, fit for a pin. Victoria starts to lean for a cover but pulls back. This could be another trick; Trixie’s durable enough to endure such offense and rally back. Something more final is needed. Victoria surges to standing and bounds over Trixie’s body to a corner. Quickly stepping through the cables to the apron, she jumps to a perch on the top turnbuckle with a pull on the top strands.
With careful movements and an anticipatory buzz from the crowd, Victoria stands her full five feet eleven inches while balancing on the ropes. The uber-talented champion leaps HIGH into the air, her large body antithetical to her high-flying skills! Victoria arcs her back at her apex, rotating her a full 360° for an awe-inspiring Shooting Star press-
THAWM
That doesn’t land!!!
AIR GERMAN
With embers of life still burning, Trixie rolls out of the way, leaving no cushion for Victoria’s landing. And what a BAD landing it is, the champion rotated one inch too short, which means she flew toward the ground at an angle. If she had hit her mark, the damage would have been negligible; instead, Victoria’s face broke The Knight’s fall from a nasty height.
Trixie studied Victoria, debating a pin or even a grounded version of her finisher. But she knew, in her heart, this wasn’t it. Victoria had more. She had to.
Sure enough… slowly, ponderously Victoria begins to push up to her knees. We’re not done, Trixie thinks to herself. Quicker than Victoria can plan for, Trixie throws herself forward, slamming a shining wizard against the German’s head.
SHINING WIZARD
Victoria plummets backwards. Her fans beg her to sit up. The rest beg Trixie to end this, but Trixie merely couches and waits. Still not there, she thinks.
Again Victoria pushes back upwards. This time the smaller woman launches forward with a double knee facebreaker.
DOUBLE KNEE FACEBREAKER
Victoria hasn’t the strength to defend herself. What little energy she has left involves pushing herself up from the mat after Trixie again lays her out. Under her breath, Victoria prays for her… what, fifth? Sixth wind?
Trixie watches. Normally she’d slap her finisher on someone like this - there’s no way to defend against it… except Victoria’s size and stubbornness. This calls for something… drastic. Trixie climbs the turnbuckles to the top of the post, readying herself.
Victoria swallows as she sits up. The ring itself is spinning. Her body is begging her to stop, but her pride condemns her for even getting into this situation. As she gets to her knees, Trixie launches off the post, coming down in a diving headbutt variation that has both women’s foreheads meet in a loud, devastating clack. Instantly, both women drop to their backs, seemingly lifeless.
The arena goes dead quiet as the official begins his count.
One…
Two…
Three…
Four…
Fi–
Trixie slowly stirs, rolling onto her stomach before pushing up. Her forehead is red from the impact. Slowly, she crawls over to Victoria, grabs her legs, and pulls her into a matchbook pin. The referee drops to count.
One…
Two…
…
There’s a moment of hesitation - more than a few seconds but it feels like forever. Trixie gives the official a long, angry look as the fans start chanting, “THREE! THREE!”
Finally, he brings his hand down again.
THREE!
Trixie rolls off Victoria, grabbing the woman’s hand as she does, as the both stare up at the lights. Over the sound system, the never seen announcer booms.
“Laaaaaaaaaaaadies and gentlemen, your winner and NEW FAWN Intercontinental Champion… TRIXIE DECKER!”
Trixie slowly sits up and sees a ring attendant coming ringside with the belt. The referee, who still looks confused, walks towards the attendant but makes eye contact with Trixie. Decker slowly shakes her head no and mouths, “Not yet.”
Trixie rolls over and looks at her fallen opponent. “Victoria?” she whispers.
Victoria doesn’t look at Trixie, only stares up at the lights, tears welling in her eyes. But she is fighting. Fighting not to cry, fighting not to ruin Trixie’s moment.
“Glückwunsch, Trixie,” Victoria forces out, still not meeting Trixie’s gaze. “You fought hard.”
“So did you,” Trixie replies.
Victoria violently shakes her head in disagreement. “Nein. Not hard enough. I–”
Victoria feels a warm hand on hers. “I will not sit here and let you disparage yourself, Victoria. You fought amazingly well. It could have gone many ways. And it is just one moment in time. A moment you will build on for the next milestone.”
Victoria does not reply to Trixie, her lower lip quivering.
“I’m proud of you,” Trixie whispers. “Everyone here is proud of you.”
With that, Victoria breaks into a hard, long sob, unsure where to put any of her countless emotions but outwards. Trixie pulls her up into a long hug, patting her back and assuring her while the arena watches, deathly silent. Finally, Trixie helps Victoria to her feet and raises her arm before the crowd, as if presenting a victor. The FAWNatics reply by getting to their feet and applauding her while Trixie pulls to the back, giving the moment to Victoria.
The tall blonde stares out to the fans, slowly wiping her tears away, as they cheer her on. She mouths, “Thank you,” before nodding to Trixie and walking to the ropes, where she slides out of the ring and walks up the ramp to return to the locker room.
Finally the referee retrieves the belt and nervously offers it up to Trixie. “I didn’t think you’d win,” he stammers out.
Trixie yanks the prize from his hands. “Is that why you stuttered in your count? Or do I need to buy you some Sesame Street books so you can brush up on what comes after three?”
The man looks embarrassed at this, hanging his head.
“You’re new here, aren’t you? You know Nick’s gonna have your ass for that, right?” Trixie warns. “He doesn’t like his new hires hesitating.”
The referee looks up at Trixie as he takes her arm and raises it. For the first time in a long, long time, the FAWNatics are almost unanimously behind her. Trixie smiles and thanks them, but her smile vanishes after the official’s next words.
“He didn’t hire me,” the young ref admits.
Trixie’s head whips in his direction. “Who did?”
Backstage...
ANCILINE de CYR
Anciline is so busy screaming in rage she doesn’t even hear the door to her office open. But she hears the clunk of a belt on her desk. She looks up to see a petite, fuming goth glaring at her.
“What, and I cannot stress this enough, the fuck is wrong with you?” Trixie demanded.
“Aside from ma Ceinture Intercontinentale being held by common trash?!” Anci shrieks back in reply.
“He told me,” Trixie says, gesturing to the referee hiding in the hall. “You hired him with the specific promise of making him one of our best-paid refs as long as I didn’t win this match!”
“And that is not happening now!” Anciline screams out to the cowering man. “You told me she would not win!”
“I said I couldn’t imagine her winning,” the referee replied, getting another glare from Trixie. Realizing he isn’t safe, the zebra starts to back away. “I never said I’d screw her over!”
“You know why you were–” before Anci can finish, the man is off in a dead run. “Mon Dieu, that man signed a five-year contract. Now I have to find a feeder fed to strand him in.”
Trixie is not interested in labor relations. “Get over this shit, Anci. All of it. Your pissiness over me not having my career ended because you were bored, me beating you in a fair fight–” At that, Anciline winces and fumes, but Trixie continues. “And now, this belt is mine.”
Anciline scowls and spits back, “Trente-cinq jours.”
“En Anglais,” Trixie shoots back, as snide as she can.
“Thirty-five days,” Anciline translates. “That is the shortest reign of anyone to hold that belt. But I bet you can lose it faster.”
“Let me guess,” Trixie said, exhausted from the fight and Anciline’s nonsense. “You’re going to see to it, at the next pay-per-view, I face some unwinnable odds to take the belt from me.”
“Pas du tout,” Anciline replied. “That would take too long. Someone could break your impending losing record. No, no. I want your reign to be le plus embarrassant le plus court… the most embarrassingly short run possible.” The older woman smirked. “You have to defend the belt at the pleasure of FAWN’s executives.”
“Yeah, and Bethany–” Trixie begins but Anciline cuts her off.
“-- is set to take ses vacances,” the VP shoots back. “Her vacation. I believe she is leaving tomorrow. That leaves me in charge for un mois.” Anciline’s lips curl in disgust as she speaks in a mock American accent. “One month.” Her smile returns. “I can schedule your fights any time I please. Oh, don’t you have a major title defense in DCA? Votre ceinture de déesse, no?”
Trixie, to her credit, does not take the bait. “You can’t schedule me in a FAWN match opposite another match in a different company, my Goddess Belt defense or even just a dark match.”
“You would be most surprised at what I can do,” the older woman assures Trixie, her voice full of venom.
“No, you really can’t,” Trixie counters. “I’ve read the FAWN handbook enough times. If I put in that I have an engagement in another company at least sixty days in advance, FAWN is not allowed to book me. Doing so violates my contract and opens the company up to a hefty lawsuit for breach of contract - not to mention blatant retaliation.” Trixie returns the smirk. “And I turned in all my match notices one hundred twenty days in advance.”
Anciline scowls at this. She isn’t used to talent knowing their rights. Frankly, it’s annoying at the best of times. “Fine!” Anciline pops back. “I will look at your… schedule, but any time you aren’t somewhere else, you belong to me!”
Trixie tosses her belt over her shoulder. “Oh, Anci. I always knew you wanted me.” She laughs and turns, leaving before the VP can retort.
As Trixie vanishes from view, Anciline slams the door so hard multiple pictures fall from the wall and their frames break. She lets loose a stream of French swears before sitting at her desk.
“Fine,” she says to herself, unlocking her phone and going to a contact list called, “Les Bons Vieux Jours.”
“Sometimes, if you want to get a job done, one must go, as the say, ‘old school.’” Anci started a group message to everyone in that list that began, simply, “Who would like a chance at a return to FAWN glory and breaking un chienne over your knee?”
She hit send. Almost instantly, her phone lit up with replies. Anci smiled.
The next month was going to be very fun.
OOC:
Gonna break Kayfabe for a moment; I’m Boobytrap, and I run Victoria Hackenschmidt, among a few others. I just wanted to thank FAWN and all the writers and readers for making my first run with a title so memorable! To everyone that’s written with me; Oldandjinx, Shi’an, neo, CIMAR, TheDream and everyone else that helped me brainstorm ideas. My time with the IC belt made me really appreciate everything Thewalkingdude and Hawkeye produce that keeps FAWN going month to month and really helped me grapple with my weaknesses in my writing and my strengths. I know Trixie will have a hell of a run with the belt, it’s been a long time coming, and no one deserves it more than her/Oldandjinx. Victoria might be going on a long vacation after this, but when she comes back, Dayna Erza and whoever’s got the world title better watch their backs!
Thank you, everyone!
Will Victoria get Jinxed and finally lose the title she brought back to prominence? Will Trixie finally get the gold and validation from the company she’s shed blood, sweat and tears for? Or will The Knight lay low her enemy once again and continue her endless championship reign?
Let’s find out!
As the fans return from their treks to the merch table and bathroom breaks, all the lights in the arena cut out. Ten seconds of complete darkness filled with an excited hollering follow… and then it’s broken by booming orchestra music and a shaft of light dead center on the stage. The audio of Giacomo Puccini’s three-stage opera feels perfectly appropriate, with the sight of The Knight stepping through the curtains. Victoria drinks in the uproarious response the FAWNatics give her; they’re friendlier than they used to be. There’s still the core of negativity, but it’s drowned out by the people earnestly congratulating her accomplishments.
Hackenschmidt takes a calming breath through her nose and sets down the ramp. The German giant stands tall and armourless except for her head. She wears a silver Corinthian helmet that protects the back and sides of her skull but leaves her high-boned cheeks free with a strip of metal stretched down from the center opening to cover her nose. The helm is smooth other than an artful etching that circles the top of the skull resembling a bejewelled crown. The most crucial thing on Victoria’s person is around her waist, the vaunted Intercontinental Championship belt. Under the spotlight, it shines as the brightest beacon to any potential challenger, employed by FAWN or not, to try and pry it from The Valiant One’s grasp.
Head bowed in silent prayer, her hands clutch a cross-hilted broadsword nearly four feet in length, a replica of a family heirloom that hung over the fireplace in her family estate in Hesse. Shaking off negative thoughts with a mighty roar, Victoria flexes her powerful arms and hefts the replica blade up to a cheering audience, then onto her shoulder before beginning her march towards the ring, the spotlights following her every step.
"Standing at 5 feet 11 inches and weighing in at 152 pounds!! From Phoenix, Arizona, by way of Hesse, Germany!! She is The Valiant One!! The Intercontinental Champion, Victoria “The Knight” Hackenschmidt!!!”
VICTORIA HACKENSCHMIDT
The IC champ marches to the ring in her white halter top, revealing miles of lightly toned, pale tummy with matching boy-cut shorts that cling to her tight hindquarters. White boots and knee pads looking newly shined, and an elbow-length fingerless white glove on her right arm; all her gear has thin black lines that weave and intersect to resemble the plate armour she usually wears to the ring.
Before the bell, Victoria tries to keep her mind on the match ahead, but she still reaches her free arm out to Hi-Five FAWNatics, leaning over the guardrail. The Valiant One briefly detours to a set of steel steps where a solid-looking metal box with a small slit cut into the top sat by the ring apron. Hackenschmidt takes the sword off her shoulder and swiftly swings it in a broad circle before smoothly plunging it down into the box, next she takes off her helmet, revealing her windswept blonde hair is longer than a pixie cut but too short of reaching past her earlobes.
As her music dies down, the entrance euphoria dies along with it. A switch flips for a quarter of the Orlando audience, and the air fills with a cacophony of noise, boos and cheers competing for dominance. The feral fans want a champ with a little more skin or a colourful demeanour, but Victoria’s winning them over; her fan mail no longer contains threats made from letters cut out from magazines!
“HHhey Vicky!!!” A particularly loud fan near the timekeeper’s can be heard over the din of the crowd. A ginger woman in horn rimmed glasses cups her hands around her mouth as she screams to the wrestler, her faded Super Friends t-shirt stretched over her large chest. “I know Decker’s pair isn’t as big as Danica’s but you're taking a nap between them tonight!!!”
“Hm.. she’s a noisy one.” Victoria muses, trying not to let the fan’s rancour affect her mindset as the official pats her down.
“WOLF LIKE ME” BY LOCAL H
The music shifts to angry guitar chords, the opening of Local H’s “Wolf Like Me.” FAWNatics crane their necks to see who is coming out to this song. Silhouetted in purple and blue lights, with smoke pouring from the ramp, a slight figure watches them before stepping into the spotlight.
TRIXIE DECKER
It has been a bit since Trixie appeared in FAWN for solo work and the attendees seem much more receptive towards her. Clad in her usual black bikini, boots, and net shirt, the only thing different about her is longer hair, more scars, and a couple of tattoos.
She slowly walks towards the ring, slapping hands with fans, but her eyes never leave the ring. Instead, she locks her eyes on her opponent for the night, offering a weird little smirk as she does. Finally, Trixie pulls herself up onto the ring skirt and slides in through the ropes. She waves to the fans, but continues to watch Victoria closer… to a point the referee becomes a tad nervous and backs her into her corner to pat her down.
Once the zebra is sure Trixie is unarmed, he backs away and signals to the timekeeper.
DINGDING!!
These two women, polar opposites in family history, physicality, and demeanour, stand across from each in the ring and observe. Victoria is stone-faced, trying to measure what version of Trixie she is facing tonight; the champion has watched Trixie’s exploits outside of FAWN with an attentive eye, each promotion seems to get a different side of The Jinx, but they’re all equally violent if the need arises. It is not the Beatrix alter; that much is certain, but the woman in front of her appears very focused, confident… and quiet. Victoria finds that very worrying.
The inscrutable smirk on the challenger’s face grows a touch more like she’s learned something about Victoria, setting the champion on edge. With the tension at its highest, Hackenscmidt strides out from her corner, walking on a direct path to her opponent. Trixie’s a half step behind, but she’s moving with the same pace and swagger she came down the ramp with. The two opponents meet at the center ring within fist-swinging distance. The stare continues until Victoria makes the first move; she offers a handshake.
“Viel Glück. Good luck. I wish it hadn't taken me breaking a record to finally face you.”
Trixie’s persona breaks, and she smiles warmly, “Oh, I bet you love casually bringing that up, don’t ya?” She takes the champion's hand and gives it a firm shake; when they separate, they back up and circle each other in mirroring stances. “I’m honoured for the opportunity. I hope me taking your title won’t sour on you coming over for dinner with the wife and me.”
Now Victoria smirks, “I bet you love casually bringing up Kanako, don’t you?”
Now Trixie’s smirk returns, telling Victoria the time for pleasantries is over. She replies with mirth, “I do,” And she raises her hand for a Test of Strength. Victoria raises an eyebrow, “Interesting choice,” She rarely does this since Victoria normally towers over her opponents, and it would be tacky to press that advantage. Decker must have something planned, but she can't back down; she's the Intercontinental champion after all.
Hackenschmidt slowly interlocks her hand with Trixie's and applies a probing amount of power while looking for traps. The brunette's arm wavers but doesn't immediately collapse; they bring their free arms into the Test, The challenger gives up 8 inches and 35 lbs to the champ, and now the crowd truly sees the physical disparity between the two. Trixie places her feet back and tries to be as immovable as a steel column, but with disturbing ease, Victoria bends her wrists back and slowly moves into the veteran's space.
‘What do they feed this girl?’ Ponders Trixie alarmingly as the soles of her boots skid on the canvas. Victoria’s trying to keep her face neutral, but Trixie can see a little bit of smugness trickling in and thinks aloud, "Welp, time to burst that bubble."
Trixie keeps her arms straight but relaxes her knees, allowing a surprised Hackenschmidt to unexpectedly push The Jinx onto her haunches and then put her shoulders on the mat. The official starts lower for a Count when Trixie pulls her knees to her chest and spreads them out, bracing against their still-locked arms. When Trixie brings her stems to the mat, their arms come as well, turning Hackenschmidt inside out and putting the German giant flat on her back with her long legs in the air! This time the ref gets to Count for real!
ONE!
TWO!!
Victoria bucks into a backroll! Ripping her hands free from Decker’s and saving her title. She ends up on one knee with fists ready to fly to see a grinning Trixie in the same position with her index and thumb a centimetre apart. “This close. That’s all I need, honey.”
Victoria wracked her brains for what she knew about Trixie. Small, can take a beating. A self-described pervert. But not known for aerial or gymnastic moves. The larger woman straightened up and barreled at Trixie with an arm stretched out to Clothesline The Jinx’s head clean off.
It was quite a surprise to Victoria when Trixie threw herself back into a handspring, letting the arm soar over her. She stopped short, confused. That was not something she’d seen the imp do in FAWN before. But before Victoria could react, she felt a sting of pain as a black boot slammed into the outside of her right knee, then again on the inside. Hackenschmidt dropped to the knee as agony burnt up the leg. But that pain was quickly eclipsed by what she felt when a boot slammed into her neck.
Victoria fell forward, clutching the injury and trying not to swear. Meanwhile, Decker bolted towards the cables, hopping and flipping off the top rope. She landed, feet first, onto Victoria’s shoulders. Before the larger fighter could react, Trixie hopped up again and dropped to her ass, landing on Victoria’s neck. She finished the quick attack by driving an elbow into the back of the paladin’s head before rolling backwards and dismounting.
Victoria scrambled to her feet and whirled to face Trixie. The smaller woman was crouched and watching her, like a small predatory wildcat, taking in Victoria’s reactions and state but also just out of reach. The Knight tries to be composed and socially acceptable at all times, but the bit of pink on her cheeks and the way Victoria blinks tell Trixie she's flustered.
"I studied matches of yours to prepare for this," Hackenschmidt says with a raised eyebrow as she cautiously side-steps away from the ropes, "But it appears my research material was outdated."
Trixie does an unnecessary side roll for fun and pops up in a wrestler's stance, moving slightly up and down like a video game character. "I'm not one to sit still, I'm always wrestling and picking things up as I go."
Victoria nods approvingly, "I admire that; since becoming part of the FAWN roster, I've seen lots of bluster, but a lack of follow-through!" Victoria's voice rises as she goes from zero to 60 in the span of a heartbeat dashing at the tricky Trixie with another Clothesline. The big blonde is faster than Trixie expected or likes and has to throw up a boxer’s guard to protect her person; the Clothesline connects with her forearms, but the blow still takes Trixie off her feet. The newlywed’s on her back marveling at the vibration in her bones from the hit, and sees Victoria cock an elbow and drop it; Trixie rolls away in time, letting the German’s joint strike the hard covered-plywood that is the ring’s floor.
“Rrra!”
Victoria instinctively curls inward and clutches her funny bone leaving her open to an Elbow Drop to the back of the neck that hits true; since the champion was so kind as to get down on the canvas for her, Trixie does it again and again. She peppers The Knight with hammer punches and forearm strikes about the neck and upper back, Trixie’s making the most of this opportunity, and she’ll work Hackenschmidt like a heavy bag if she has to!
The Valiant One won’t take this lying down; throughout the rain of tiny fists, Victoria has been powering to her knees and blindly throwing out powerful swings. Only a few lands, but with the champ’s strength, that's enough to slow and stagger the respectable pervert and make her consider switching to hit-and-run tactics. "Guaugh!" Trixie's assault is finally halted by Hackenschmidt putting her palms together and spiking an elbow into the challenger's gut. The fighter from Flint doubles over looking winded, while Victoria wearily steps ahead and gladly stands up straight.
There's only a brief respite for the Towering Teuton before Trixie climbs her like a jungle gym and slaps on a Sleeper! Victoria becomes a bull at the rodeo and violently twists and turns, trying to dislodge the Lightweight and pry Trixie's pale arms from her neck. The Jinx stays stuck to her prey and adds a waist-tightening body scissors as a safety measure.
"How about you turn in early, huh?" Trixie suggests as she clenches down harder against Victoria’s carotid. “A title reign this long must be exhausting. I know I’d-!”
The Knight cuts off Decker’s mind games with a rapid acceleration to the farthest corner! Victoria’s a big blonde blur as she races across the Squared Circle; as she nears the turnbuckles, Victoria spins to crush the sock monkey on her back in the-
Trixie breaks the body scissors and swings her stems back to kick against the top buckle! Both Trixie and Victoria look uncomfortable with the feeling of the impact, but even the halted crash loosened the Sleeper enough for Victoria to breathe. She’s about to reach for Decker’s hair when the challenger gets inspired and pulls herself into a seat on Victoria’s shoulders to apply a tenuous Headscissors. Before Victoria can worry about the pressure, Decker throws herself down the German’s front and puts Victoria on the mat with a Victory Roll!
VICTORY ROLL
Trixie doesn’t even get a one count before Victoria shoves her up and off, with Decker landing almost a foot away. Victoria gets to her feet, her frustration getting harder and harder to hide. Decker runs at Hackenschmidt but is intercepted, spun and planted to the mat, full force.
Victoria wastes no time going for a pin, folding Trixie as tightly as she can - almost perfectly in half - and leaning all her weight against her.
One…
Tw–
Alas for the champ, the smaller woman still has too much fight and rocks herself to the side, getting a shoulder up. Victoria feels an urge to roll Trixie onto her back and ground-pound her in the face but pushes back against it. It’s not a knightly thing to do… and she knows for a fact that won’t put Trixie down. She’s seen what Decker’s endured in FAWN, including a four-on-one with weapons and no rules.
Instead, she grabs Trixie by the scruff of the neck and hurls her towards the ropes - only to cut that trip off with a short arm across the throat! Trixie flips a full three-sixty before landing on the mat. The Knight goes to follow with a legdrop across the chest but Decker scampers from the impact zone, letting the larger German take a seat on the canvas. She watches as Trixie pops up and wags a finger, grinning wide. If this look came from someone Victoria hated, it would definitely be awakening something in her. Instead, it’s just a bit embarrassing.
But Trixie can see Victoria is getting more and more flustered, which is usually when Trixie shines most. She circles Victoria, who watches as the slowly rises. Suddenly, she breaks and changes directions, and Victoria’s head yanks in the new direction just as Trixie doubles back, speaking to Victoria.
The German strains to listen, but she can’t hear anything Trixie’s saying. She tries to read her lips but it doesn’t seem to make sense. Instinctively, she leans a little closer despite herself.
There are two reasons she doesn’t understand what Trixie’s saying. First, Trixie is saying nothing - not out loud. She’s mouthing silently. Second, she’s not “mouthing” in English but Roma (not to be confused with Romanian). And what she’s mouthing is a series of old sayings. But it gets enough attention and, more importantly, the desired effect of dividing Victoria’s attention that Trixie delivers a spinning heel kick right into the bridge of her opponent’s nose. Victoria stumbles back, trying not to break into a stream of swears, while Trixie rolls towards her, sending a double-boot kick up into Victoria’s jaw.
Victoria’s head snaps back, and instinct takes over. She throws a stomp down, aiming for Trixie’s gut but missing - instead driving her heel into Trixie’s crotch… a perfect hit. Both women separate, clutching their wounds. The official immediately goes to Victoria.
“No low blows!” he warns, but Trixie raises a hand.
“Ease off her,” Decker complains. “That was obviously not what she was going for, okay?” She looks to Victoria. “Right?”
Victoria nods. “Of course. I would never.”
“We’re all good, no need for the warning,” Trixie assures the official, extending a hand to Victoria. “It’s a fight, not a war. I know you better than to think you’d sink.”
Victoria stared at the hand as fans who preferred her darker side chanted for her to go ballistic on Trixie and tear her to shreds. Trixie’s been playing her like a puppet since the match began… but it would be too duplicitous for The Jinx to betray her at this moment. She takes the hand and gives it a firm squeeze. “Thank you, I-”
Panic floods Victoria’s senses as Decker yanks her arm- pulling her into a hug. Cheek pressed into the much taller woman’s chest, Decker pats Victoria’s back, “Sorry about all the cloak and dagger, but this is my shot, and I might not get another shot, ya know?’
The Knight may not like it, but she does understand. She returns the hug with her free arm. “Ja, I would feel insulted if you did not give me everything you had.”
“Goddamn, you’re bad at being big!!!” the boisterous, busty fan that heckled Victoria during her entrance makes her presence known again. “What’s the point of being a yeti if the little women walk all over you!? Or is that your kink!?”
Victoria grumbles wordlessly, the FAWNatics’ toxicity is no longer a shock, but it is still annoying. The friendly pressure of the hug increases to something far more worrying to Trixie before Hackenschmidt releases, her face her usual standard of dignified composure. “Well then, let’s again, shall we?” Trixie hides any fear she felt during The Knight’s slip with a smile. “Let’s do.” Inwardly she’s cussing out that beer-addled fangirl in the stands. Partially for being rude, mostly for fucking up her carefully crafted strategy. Fluster the giant, don’t anger the giant. Trixie has NO intention of awakening Hackenschmidt’s Blood Knight personality. As they separate and begin to circle each other for an opening, Trixie consciously keeps her gait and vibe steady and cool, but make no mistake The Jinx is hurtin’. Her plan to minimize Victoria’s offense is working, but whatever successful attacks from the German lands like a car carrier loaded with Volkswagens. She may have gotten up quickly after that Short-arm, but that's due to Trixie's experience on the carnival circuit wrestling full matches after a go on the Gravitron.
Sick of falling for Trixie's feints, Victoria decides to make the first move and rockets forward with a Clothesline, determined to finally land one on the slippery Indie Icon. With machine smoothness, Trixie lowers as she runs toward The Knight, dodging- No! Victoria drops lower than Trixie and, with the slightest grip on her sides, thrusts the challenger high into the air. Trixie tries to recover with an improvised Hurricanrana, but the German woman just takes her by the hips and sets fire to her spine with a Pop Up Powerbomb.
POP UP POWERBOMB
The official’s fast to slide in for a count but Victoria knows it’d be futile and rolls Decker backward onto her front, then pulls her to stand by the scruff of the glassy-eyed veteran’s net shirt. Victoria takes a big step back and Irish Whips Decker into a corner; the challenger turns in time, and her back connects with the turnbuckles with ring-shaking force. Trixie's face gnarls as she ricochets out of the corner only for Hackenschmidt’s large arm to whap! above her breasts and knock The Jinx horizontal.
“It was bugging me that I couldn’t land it,” Victoria explains as she shakes out her arm above Trixie’s gasping form.
Victoria grabs Trixie by the arm and yanks her out toward the center of the ring before rocketing her to the ropes. On the rebound, Victoria leaps over Trixie, letting her whip to the opposite cables, while she herself jumps off the ropes in front of her and catches Trixie in a springboard DDT - or as she called it, the Hindenburg.
THE HINDENBURG
Immediately, the German yanks Trixie closer and covers her.
One…
Two…
THR–
To Victoria’s shock, and building frustration, Trixie bucks out. Victoria looked up at the referee, who held up two fingers. She wants to argue, but she knows he was right. And then, from the audience, that fan’s voice booms.
“Can’t even keep her down!” This was followed by hateful chortling. “C’mon! Go crazy! Or are they finally medicating you?”
The frustration turns to rage and, suddenly, Victoria drives a fist down into Trixie’s face, right between her eyes.
“WHOA!” the referee bellows. “No closed fists!”
Victoria barely listens to him as she yanks Trixie up by the throat and hurls her into a corner. Hackenschmidt barrels her shoulder into Trixie’s midsection, folding the smaller woman over. Outside of the ring, she hears that voice again.
“Oh, look who fuckin’ showed up to fight!” the fan cackled.
All the past indignities well up. Every insult, every doubt, and all she can do is focus it on Trixie, punching her over and over in the face until the referee forcibly gets between the two.
“You’re lucky I don’t disqualify you now!” he warns.
“For what?!” Victoria snaps back.
“I counted to five, Hackenschmidt!” he shoots back. “That and I warned you about the punches.”
“I offered you an open hand,” Victoria heard from behind the official, “and you repay me with a closed fist.”
“You can’t get into my head again,” Victoria says, looking past the official. But her smirk vanishes when she sees Trixie’s expression beneath flecks of color. The humor Trixie is known for is completely gone. Before she can say anything, the official begins to forcefully back her up.
“You gonna take that, Sasquatch?!” the fan shrieks. “Or you gonna go down in a sass-squash?” Victoria can hear other fans laughing at her joke, and it burns.
But Victoria attempts to tune it out. “Es tut m–” She stopped herself, remembering to use English. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m your opponent,” Trixie calmly reminded her. “Not that loudmouth. Okay?”
“Yes, I’m sorry” Victoria bows her head, properly contrite and feeling ashamed. She’s been working hard to keep control of herself in matches, but thicker skin means what gets through hurts more. The regretful Knight backs away, giving Trixie the space to collect herself; the challenger licks her lips tasting the familiar touch of copper and takes a calming breath. She sounds much less friendly than when they exchanged pleasantries at the start, “Okay. Glad we got that settled.”
Trixie marches out of the corner with her arms up and ready to tangle; no plays or fake-outs this time, Trixie throws herself into an Elbow and Collar with her larger opponent. Her controlled anger gives Decker the extra oompf to back up Victoria a few paces, but the blonde quickly shores up her stance and halts the noteworthy newlywed’s progression and shoves Trixie into the cables, rebounding the goth into a Headbutt to the gut. Decker lets out a deep groan as Victoria readjusts to thread her skull between Trixie’s pale stems and take them above the knees.
Victoria stands up, draping Decker down her back like a frustrated cape and walks deeper into the Squared Circle; her cargo senses what’s coming and digs two digging Claws into the German’s kidneys as a deterrent. It makes Victoria wince, but it’s not enough to stop what’s coming. Out of deference to her earlier faux pas, she warns Decker, “Grit your teeth for this next part,” and whips the Lightweight off her back onto the mat with a rope-shaking Alabama Slam! The Knight keeps hold of Trixie’s ankles and presses them together before folding them over the challenger’s body and taking a seat on the backs of her thighs. A decisive show of the champion’s power in another retention.
ONE!
TWO!!
Victoria’s bucked into a high straddle by Trixie’s kick out, the frustration at being woman-handled adding power to the goth’s comparably slight frame. Not unexpected but not ideal in Victoria’s mind; she picks Trixie up by the shoulders of her net shirt, purposefully avoiding her hair, and sends her into a neutral corner with an Irish Whip- Trixie halts the whip and contorts the limb with an Arm Wringer and spikes a punch into a clawed kidney.
“GnnhF!” Hackenschmidt shudders and falters a step. Trixie bends the captured arm into a Hammerlock to duck under the German’s free arm and circles back, twisting the limb’s together in a knot designed by a Girl Scout from hell. For the final touch, Decker presses a heel into the pit of Hackenschmidt’s left knee and forces it to the canvas. The FAWNatics give the challenger some applause for this display of a Jacobs or Burlingame-level technique.
??“You like this one!?” Trixie grits, bracing the joints of the champion’s arms against each other, making Victoria shout in pain, “It’s something I picked up teaming with Alosia Berge in India!”
From a personal standpoint, no. This is VERY painful. From a professional standpoint, “Hnk! Yes, it’s quite clever! I will remember to use it in future boutsERGH!”
Trixie’s happy for the compliment, but that’s not what she’s looking for, still miffed about the beating minutes ago, she chokes up on the tangle of arms and grinds her heel on the back of the IC champ’s knee. After Victoria’s done beating her boot against the mat and hissing, she promises, “If I leave your arms attached after this, I’ll teach it to you.”
As apologetic as Hackenschmidt is, she won’t take a threat to her title lying down. Gnashing her teeth, The Towering Teuton goes red in the face, and veins pulse in her forehead as she wills her body against nature’s design and powers Trixie off her limbs, sending the challenger tripping onto a knee. The Jinx curses and promptly pushes off the mat with a side kick- that Victoria catches by the ankle. She pulls Trixie into a Front Facelock and takes one of her patellas, back rolls onto the mat with the Lightweight in tow and straightens on a side with Trixie choking between her sculpted thighs with a Triangle hold!
TRIANGLE HOLD
“Maybe we’ll make it a fair trade, and I’ll teach you this one,” Victoria tries not to sound full of herself as watches Decker’s face immediately flush. The Valiant One braces her palms against the canvas as her steely stems cut off the air to the veteran’s body. As her vision swirls and her pulse turns rapid, Decker’s lower body becomes electrified in blindly searching for the nearest set of ropes. Lady luck gives Trixie a late wedding gift; her black boot presses against the bottom cable, and the ref yells, “Break!”
Victoria immediately starts to back up, but before she can get too far, Trixie grabs her leg and rips it from under her. The German flails backwards, slamming onto her back. Trixie promptly gets up and kicks Victoria in the temple. The champion instantly rolls away, pushing herself up and clutching the point of impact. Victoria palms Trixie in the chest, thrusting her into the corner. Hackenschmidt rushes at Trixie, shoulder lowered to slam into the smaller goth. Trixie pushes herself up with the top cables, letting Victoria ram the ringpost only. When the champ turns around, Trixie cracks a chop across her chest.
Trixie grabs the larger woman by her ears and yanks her from the corner, sending a kick into her gut. As Victoria folds over, Trixie hops onto her back. Hackenschmidt attempts to dump her off, but Trixie drives her to the mat with a reverse wheelbarrow bulldog.
REVERSE WHEELBARROW BULLDOG
Trixie immediately slaps an armbar on Victoria, bracing herself with a knee across the amazon’s throat. Victoria spasms in agony as the official attempts to check for a submission. Unable to hide the pain, Victoria just shakes her head in a negative. Finally, Trixie rises - still holding the arm - and kicks the trapped limb so hard most expect it to bend the wrong way. The goth backs away, letting Victoria slowly rise.
Again, outside from the ring, Victoria heard that familiar drunken cackling soaring towards her. “Bitch, are you Heimlich? Cuz this little girl got you fuckin’ CHOKING!” A few other fans join in a chant of, “Choke! Choke! Choke!”
Victoria feels that rage building again as she gets to her feet and charges at Trixie. However, Decker is in her element. Usually, she does the egging on but she still knows how to use this. Trixie hops backwards onto the top rope, rolling backwards while holding on. Pulling the rope down, Trixie lets Victoria sail over the ropes, out of the ring, and into the barricade. Trixie pulls herself back up onto the skirt and into the ring. Running across the ring, she whips herself off the ropes, races back and leaps throw the middle and top ropes, feet first. As Victora starts to push herself up, a pair of black boots slam into her head, crushing her back into the barricade.
Victoria slides down the metal bars, seeing stars. There’s a ringing in her ears which fades to that familiar, hateful chortling. She looks up and - of course - the busty, drunk heckler is in the front row.
“C’mon, you ain’t even trying!” the woman spits into Victoria’s face. “Lemme help you up.” The woman reaches over the barricade to pull Hackenschmidt up by her hair, but the second she touches Victoria’s blonde locks, Trixie grabs her by the wrists and rips the drunk over the steel fencing.
At first, the woman seems almost proud to be a part of the show, even if most people are decidedly laughing at her. Trixie, however, gets in her face. “You do realize that touching her constitutes assault, right?”
“Awww, you gonna toss me out?” the woman says, looming closer.
“Toss. I like that.” Trixie sends a low blow up between the drunk woman’s legs. As the woman bends over, screaming, Trixie grabs her and heaves her backwards into the steel steps. The drunk doesn’t even get a chance to gather her wits before Trixie has her in the same armbar.
“I am fucking sick of you giving Victoria shit,” Trixie hisses, pulling harder and harder on the woman’s arm. “You can’t do what she does, and then you grab her? Bitch, this is a taste of what she’s been getting and you’re already crying!”
Security finally arrives and Trixie releases the hold. The woman, sobbing hysterically, tries rewriting the events to the security guards, as if it wasn’t all recorded. Trixie watches them leave as Victoria rises. Standing behind Trixie, the Blood Knight inside her points out this would be a perfect opportunity to sneak attack her. But… Trixie stood up for her.
Trixie looks back at Victoria, seemingly reading her thoughts. “Get in the ring so we’re not counted out,” is all she says before rolling under the bottom rope and waiting.
There’s a half second where Hackenschmidt thought this yet another ploy by the tricky veteran, and she would feel an Elbow Drop the moment she slid under the ropes. But the champ moves past her suspicions and enters the ring, accosted, her trust in Decker is again validated.
“I appreciate your assistance with… diese Hündin,” Trixie stifles a laugh at Victoria’s brief slip out of professionalism. “After my last match with Danica, I can’t afford another fan incident.”
“I saw that! It was amazing,” Trixie gives Vic a light punch in the shoulder, “I know something about dealing with shit fans. I’ve had my bad days too.”
Victoria nods in understanding, she would go for a hug, but that would make destroying Trixie and keeping the title much harder. She widens her stance and waves Trixie closer, “Now it’s too awkward to start again. Could you chop me to reset?”
Trixie raises an eyebrow, she knows Victoria means well, but this is a tad insulting, “You’re giving me a free shot?”
“You get a Chop, you could try something else, but I cannot guarantee my response,” The champion spreads her arms wider, “Come now, show me what you-”
Trixie aims her shoulder at Victoria and lights up her chest with a Knife-Edge, the sound of flesh hitting flesh echoes in the air, The Towering Teuton is unmoved and seems unbothered, “You can do better. Try again.” Trixie’s eyes narrow and she gives the big blonde a CRACKing shot; Victoria is frustratingly encouraging, “Much better, now we can move forward.”
And Decker does move forward by unloading on the German’s chest with a barrage of Chops! The Jinx is gonna put The Knight on her ass if it’s the last thing she does; Decker’s arm becomes a blur as she tries to cut down this big German tree.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
CRACK!
OOOOHHHH!!!
Hackenschmidt grows tired of Trixie’s attacks and answers back with a Chop of her own, though it could be better described as a Cleave; She swings a mighty palm and strikes Trixie’s chest with such force the goth twists and spins a full 360 before crashing to the mat, writhing and massaging what must be a handprint bruise that goes to her skeleton. The FAWNatics collectively cringe and moan in sympathy for the Lightweight’s pain. Later tonight, a clip of that moment will be edited and shared over Twitter to show Trixie being reduced to dust; Anciline De Cyr will pin it as a gift to her social medias. Victoria pulls the challenger up by the wrists just to double her over with a kneelift and quickly spins to get side-to-side with the veteran. Victoria works her powerful arms under Decker’s and straightens her up in a neck-kinking Full Nelson Hold.
The challenger tries to be like water and slips out of the hold. Unfortunately, Victoria flexes in conjunction with every twitch of Trixie’s muscles, keeping the smaller wrestler painfully stooped over as the back deeper into the ring. The official nears to ask Trixie if she wants to submit and has to dodge the goth’s whipping arms; Decker’s being shaken back and forth in the Full Nelson like a new toy in a puppy’s jaws. Hackenschmidt stops her brain-rattling movements to free one of Trixie’s arms, allowing The Knight to yank the brunette into a sudden and brutal Backbreaker. Trixie spasms violently over the plank of Victoria’s thigh, and she doesn’t have the time even to finish groaning before she’s pulled up by the hair and knocked off the Knight’s knee with a Clothesline.
Decker hits the deck limp as a retired ragdoll; her leg easily wrangled under an arm as Victoria balls her up in a tight Backpress pin.
ONE!
TWO!!
THRE-
Trixie kicks out! Digging deep, she finds the strength to buck out of the pin and save her dreams of title gold with a millisecond to spare. Victoria and most of the crowd must double-check with the referee to confirm the match’s continuation. She lets out a resigned sigh, “Mein Gott, you are resilient.”
“The benefit of growing up poor trash,” Trixie says as she rolls up to all fours. “Hard to kill.”
“But not impossible!” Victoria bellows as she throws a right toward Trixie’s face, but Decker throws herself backwards in a cartwheel. As the fist decimates the empty space her head was once in, Trixie’s own boot slams up into Victoria’s lower jaw. Victoria stumbles backwards as Trixie rights herself and launches between the German amazon’s legs - grabbing one leg as she slips through and yanking it from under Hackenschmidt.
Victoria drops, face first, into the canvas as Trixie rises and throws herself backwards. She drops an elbow, stabbing it between Victoria’s shoulder blades. Victoria releases a sound that is something between a squeak and a roar. She rolls on her back just as Trixie rolls off of her, landing in a ready position. Victoria thrusts herself up to her feet and lunges at Trixie with a lariat, but Trixie grabs the arm and pushes, spinning Victoria with her own momentum. Suddenly, Victoria feels two arms wrap around her waist and, to her shock, the tinier fighter lifts her off her feet and backwards to the mat in a Suplex.
Victoria’s shoulders slam into the mat as Trixie releases, not even attempting a pin. Instead, as Victoria sits up, a boot’s toe slams between her eyes.
That’s when Trixie goes for the pin.
One…
Two…
T-
Hackenschmidt bullies out of the cover and turns onto her elbows to prevent another. Now Trixie’s temper starts to flare a bit at the champion’s resilience and pounds knee after knee into The Destroyer’s flank, deadset on on battering the blonde onto her back for another pin. Hackenschimdt grunts and bleats under the barrage then falters under the onslaught going shoulders to canvas. Trixie throws herself into a Splash/cover but belly flops on the empty mat, Victoria having rolled to the sanctuary of the ropes a microsecond before.
The Knight scrambles to rise with the assistance of the cables as Trixie gets vertical; she presses into the coated steel strands and lunges at the brunette, sending her stumbling back with a short-range Shoulder check. Trixie almost topples over but gets her balance momentarily before Victoria locks an arm under the Goth and hoists her into a Hip Toss. Her carnival background comes in hand again; Decker rides through the swift change in momentum and flips through the throw, landing nimbly as the Tabaxi she plays in her D&D campaign. She didn't want to play a catperson initially, but Hazeema Mcmurray's cleavage made a flawless argument.
Trixie snatches the giant’s arm and throws her whole body weight into an Irish Whip that dies upon the attempt. Victoria stiffens at Trixie’s tugging, making her an unmovable mass, then she reverses the Whip with a yank that almost tears Decker’s arm from its socket. The challenger hits the ropes and speeds back, leaping into the air for Lou Thez Press. Victoria’s Destroyer Privilege makes itself evident by The Knight easily changing Trixie’s trajectory with a small push on her ribs, rocketing the petite newlywed upwards and letting her smack onto the ring floor with a Freefall Drop.
FREEFALL DROP
Trixie lets out a deep groan as she turns onto her side massaging her tummy, now sporting a new shade of pink. Victoria gives her challenger a helping hand to her feet and then some; with two hard grips on Trixie’s trapezius, Victoria heaves her from lying on the floor to kicking her feet in the air. Trixie flashes the camera a worried look before she’s bounced against the canvas with a Two-handed Chokeslam!
TWO-HANDED CHOKESLAM
Confused by pain, Trixie’s body cycles through some small, mindless jerks with her eyes closed; a warbled cry leaves her black lips as she feels what must be her soul leaving her body. The official dashes for a count, but Victoria knows it’d be futile with even a spark of life in The Jinx’s body. “Herkommen!” The champ orders, taking the near-insensate Trixie up with a hand on her throat. Placing her other hand on Trixie’s rear, Hackenschmidt jerks her prey high into the air and then makes an Alt-girl shaped crater in the ring with a Sit-Out Chokeslam!
HERO’S JOURNEY
Decker’s head tilts one cheek to the mat, the movement caused by the canvas vibrating from Decker’s crash. Her eyes are rolled up, and her mouth is slightly open, fit for a pin. Victoria starts to lean for a cover but pulls back. This could be another trick; Trixie’s durable enough to endure such offense and rally back. Something more final is needed. Victoria surges to standing and bounds over Trixie’s body to a corner. Quickly stepping through the cables to the apron, she jumps to a perch on the top turnbuckle with a pull on the top strands.
With careful movements and an anticipatory buzz from the crowd, Victoria stands her full five feet eleven inches while balancing on the ropes. The uber-talented champion leaps HIGH into the air, her large body antithetical to her high-flying skills! Victoria arcs her back at her apex, rotating her a full 360° for an awe-inspiring Shooting Star press-
THAWM
That doesn’t land!!!
AIR GERMAN
With embers of life still burning, Trixie rolls out of the way, leaving no cushion for Victoria’s landing. And what a BAD landing it is, the champion rotated one inch too short, which means she flew toward the ground at an angle. If she had hit her mark, the damage would have been negligible; instead, Victoria’s face broke The Knight’s fall from a nasty height.
Trixie studied Victoria, debating a pin or even a grounded version of her finisher. But she knew, in her heart, this wasn’t it. Victoria had more. She had to.
Sure enough… slowly, ponderously Victoria begins to push up to her knees. We’re not done, Trixie thinks to herself. Quicker than Victoria can plan for, Trixie throws herself forward, slamming a shining wizard against the German’s head.
SHINING WIZARD
Victoria plummets backwards. Her fans beg her to sit up. The rest beg Trixie to end this, but Trixie merely couches and waits. Still not there, she thinks.
Again Victoria pushes back upwards. This time the smaller woman launches forward with a double knee facebreaker.
DOUBLE KNEE FACEBREAKER
Victoria hasn’t the strength to defend herself. What little energy she has left involves pushing herself up from the mat after Trixie again lays her out. Under her breath, Victoria prays for her… what, fifth? Sixth wind?
Trixie watches. Normally she’d slap her finisher on someone like this - there’s no way to defend against it… except Victoria’s size and stubbornness. This calls for something… drastic. Trixie climbs the turnbuckles to the top of the post, readying herself.
Victoria swallows as she sits up. The ring itself is spinning. Her body is begging her to stop, but her pride condemns her for even getting into this situation. As she gets to her knees, Trixie launches off the post, coming down in a diving headbutt variation that has both women’s foreheads meet in a loud, devastating clack. Instantly, both women drop to their backs, seemingly lifeless.
The arena goes dead quiet as the official begins his count.
One…
Two…
Three…
Four…
Fi–
Trixie slowly stirs, rolling onto her stomach before pushing up. Her forehead is red from the impact. Slowly, she crawls over to Victoria, grabs her legs, and pulls her into a matchbook pin. The referee drops to count.
One…
Two…
…
There’s a moment of hesitation - more than a few seconds but it feels like forever. Trixie gives the official a long, angry look as the fans start chanting, “THREE! THREE!”
Finally, he brings his hand down again.
THREE!
Trixie rolls off Victoria, grabbing the woman’s hand as she does, as the both stare up at the lights. Over the sound system, the never seen announcer booms.
“Laaaaaaaaaaaadies and gentlemen, your winner and NEW FAWN Intercontinental Champion… TRIXIE DECKER!”
Trixie slowly sits up and sees a ring attendant coming ringside with the belt. The referee, who still looks confused, walks towards the attendant but makes eye contact with Trixie. Decker slowly shakes her head no and mouths, “Not yet.”
Trixie rolls over and looks at her fallen opponent. “Victoria?” she whispers.
Victoria doesn’t look at Trixie, only stares up at the lights, tears welling in her eyes. But she is fighting. Fighting not to cry, fighting not to ruin Trixie’s moment.
“Glückwunsch, Trixie,” Victoria forces out, still not meeting Trixie’s gaze. “You fought hard.”
“So did you,” Trixie replies.
Victoria violently shakes her head in disagreement. “Nein. Not hard enough. I–”
Victoria feels a warm hand on hers. “I will not sit here and let you disparage yourself, Victoria. You fought amazingly well. It could have gone many ways. And it is just one moment in time. A moment you will build on for the next milestone.”
Victoria does not reply to Trixie, her lower lip quivering.
“I’m proud of you,” Trixie whispers. “Everyone here is proud of you.”
With that, Victoria breaks into a hard, long sob, unsure where to put any of her countless emotions but outwards. Trixie pulls her up into a long hug, patting her back and assuring her while the arena watches, deathly silent. Finally, Trixie helps Victoria to her feet and raises her arm before the crowd, as if presenting a victor. The FAWNatics reply by getting to their feet and applauding her while Trixie pulls to the back, giving the moment to Victoria.
The tall blonde stares out to the fans, slowly wiping her tears away, as they cheer her on. She mouths, “Thank you,” before nodding to Trixie and walking to the ropes, where she slides out of the ring and walks up the ramp to return to the locker room.
Finally the referee retrieves the belt and nervously offers it up to Trixie. “I didn’t think you’d win,” he stammers out.
Trixie yanks the prize from his hands. “Is that why you stuttered in your count? Or do I need to buy you some Sesame Street books so you can brush up on what comes after three?”
The man looks embarrassed at this, hanging his head.
“You’re new here, aren’t you? You know Nick’s gonna have your ass for that, right?” Trixie warns. “He doesn’t like his new hires hesitating.”
The referee looks up at Trixie as he takes her arm and raises it. For the first time in a long, long time, the FAWNatics are almost unanimously behind her. Trixie smiles and thanks them, but her smile vanishes after the official’s next words.
“He didn’t hire me,” the young ref admits.
Trixie’s head whips in his direction. “Who did?”
Backstage...
ANCILINE de CYR
Anciline is so busy screaming in rage she doesn’t even hear the door to her office open. But she hears the clunk of a belt on her desk. She looks up to see a petite, fuming goth glaring at her.
“What, and I cannot stress this enough, the fuck is wrong with you?” Trixie demanded.
“Aside from ma Ceinture Intercontinentale being held by common trash?!” Anci shrieks back in reply.
“He told me,” Trixie says, gesturing to the referee hiding in the hall. “You hired him with the specific promise of making him one of our best-paid refs as long as I didn’t win this match!”
“And that is not happening now!” Anciline screams out to the cowering man. “You told me she would not win!”
“I said I couldn’t imagine her winning,” the referee replied, getting another glare from Trixie. Realizing he isn’t safe, the zebra starts to back away. “I never said I’d screw her over!”
“You know why you were–” before Anci can finish, the man is off in a dead run. “Mon Dieu, that man signed a five-year contract. Now I have to find a feeder fed to strand him in.”
Trixie is not interested in labor relations. “Get over this shit, Anci. All of it. Your pissiness over me not having my career ended because you were bored, me beating you in a fair fight–” At that, Anciline winces and fumes, but Trixie continues. “And now, this belt is mine.”
Anciline scowls and spits back, “Trente-cinq jours.”
“En Anglais,” Trixie shoots back, as snide as she can.
“Thirty-five days,” Anciline translates. “That is the shortest reign of anyone to hold that belt. But I bet you can lose it faster.”
“Let me guess,” Trixie said, exhausted from the fight and Anciline’s nonsense. “You’re going to see to it, at the next pay-per-view, I face some unwinnable odds to take the belt from me.”
“Pas du tout,” Anciline replied. “That would take too long. Someone could break your impending losing record. No, no. I want your reign to be le plus embarrassant le plus court… the most embarrassingly short run possible.” The older woman smirked. “You have to defend the belt at the pleasure of FAWN’s executives.”
“Yeah, and Bethany–” Trixie begins but Anciline cuts her off.
“-- is set to take ses vacances,” the VP shoots back. “Her vacation. I believe she is leaving tomorrow. That leaves me in charge for un mois.” Anciline’s lips curl in disgust as she speaks in a mock American accent. “One month.” Her smile returns. “I can schedule your fights any time I please. Oh, don’t you have a major title defense in DCA? Votre ceinture de déesse, no?”
Trixie, to her credit, does not take the bait. “You can’t schedule me in a FAWN match opposite another match in a different company, my Goddess Belt defense or even just a dark match.”
“You would be most surprised at what I can do,” the older woman assures Trixie, her voice full of venom.
“No, you really can’t,” Trixie counters. “I’ve read the FAWN handbook enough times. If I put in that I have an engagement in another company at least sixty days in advance, FAWN is not allowed to book me. Doing so violates my contract and opens the company up to a hefty lawsuit for breach of contract - not to mention blatant retaliation.” Trixie returns the smirk. “And I turned in all my match notices one hundred twenty days in advance.”
Anciline scowls at this. She isn’t used to talent knowing their rights. Frankly, it’s annoying at the best of times. “Fine!” Anciline pops back. “I will look at your… schedule, but any time you aren’t somewhere else, you belong to me!”
Trixie tosses her belt over her shoulder. “Oh, Anci. I always knew you wanted me.” She laughs and turns, leaving before the VP can retort.
As Trixie vanishes from view, Anciline slams the door so hard multiple pictures fall from the wall and their frames break. She lets loose a stream of French swears before sitting at her desk.
“Fine,” she says to herself, unlocking her phone and going to a contact list called, “Les Bons Vieux Jours.”
“Sometimes, if you want to get a job done, one must go, as the say, ‘old school.’” Anci started a group message to everyone in that list that began, simply, “Who would like a chance at a return to FAWN glory and breaking un chienne over your knee?”
She hit send. Almost instantly, her phone lit up with replies. Anci smiled.
The next month was going to be very fun.
OOC:
Gonna break Kayfabe for a moment; I’m Boobytrap, and I run Victoria Hackenschmidt, among a few others. I just wanted to thank FAWN and all the writers and readers for making my first run with a title so memorable! To everyone that’s written with me; Oldandjinx, Shi’an, neo, CIMAR, TheDream and everyone else that helped me brainstorm ideas. My time with the IC belt made me really appreciate everything Thewalkingdude and Hawkeye produce that keeps FAWN going month to month and really helped me grapple with my weaknesses in my writing and my strengths. I know Trixie will have a hell of a run with the belt, it’s been a long time coming, and no one deserves it more than her/Oldandjinx. Victoria might be going on a long vacation after this, but when she comes back, Dayna Erza and whoever’s got the world title better watch their backs!
Thank you, everyone!