Post by SammieSinclair on May 10, 2015 21:30:39 GMT
Pleased to see this pair of names come up in his notes again, the Announcer told the sold out crowd, “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall with a thirty minute time limit and is the third match in a five match series! Introducing first, hailing from Richmond, England, she stands at five feet seven inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and fifteen pounds. She is the Oncoming Storm, this is… OLIVIA DARE!"
The Spring Breakers let loose an appropriately thunderous cheer as when the sound system replied with the languid, somehow dangerous drumbeat of Hooverphonic’s ‘2Wicky’. That manmade thunder crashed all the louder when the former FAWN World Champion appeared atop the stage to salute the faithful with an index finger raised high overhead.
OLIVIA DARE:
For her third battle with this wannabe Blackbird, the blonde wore a pair of stormy black bikini briefs edged with silver trim and cut high enough to give the throng a tantalizing view of her sculpted hips, thighs and calves. The other half of her ensemble usually included a matching bustier, but tonight it was absent in favor of a simple sports bra, also done in black and edged with silver. Short black wrestling shoes and silver knee and elbow pads rounded out the rest of her outfit.
Having waited for this moment ever since the closing bell in their February match, Olivia made her way down the aisle at a near jog, though she still stopped to inspect a sign that read:
1-1?
TIE HER IN KNOTS, OLIVIA!
“Have no fear dear man,” she told the beaming fan, “for that is my exact intention.” After gracing the sign with a quick signature, Olivia pulled away and made her way from the steps to the center of the apron. Flashing the crowd a glimpse of FAWN’s most radiant grin, Olivia hooked her arms over the top rope, then dipped her knees and tumbled backward to land on her feet with barely a whisper.
Greeted by senior official Nick Castle, Dare offered him knees, elbows and wrists without hesitation. “And where is our Mister Carpenter?” Olivia asked when the ref stepped away. “Did he finally grow weary of this match-up?”
“Hardly, in fact he was pretty bummed when he saw the line-up tonight. But given the way you two have upped the intensity with each outing, brass thought this one should fall on me. So go easy, ok ‘Liv?”
“I will do no such thing.” she said with a smirk.
“I meant on me.”
“As did I. No quarter for you and certainly not for the Raven. Not after what Susan did to Eliza earlier.” With that, she backed into a corner on the far side of the ring and turned her attention to the curtain at the top of the ramp.
The Announcer cut through the pseudo-silence with the second half of his obligation. “And introducing her opponent, representing the Black Court, hailing from Glen Echo Michigan, she stands at five feet seven inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and thirty-one pounds. They call her the Raven… LENORE LEMARCHAND!”
LENORE LEMARCHAND:
Kula Shaker’s ‘Hush’ hit the speakers and dozens of handmade ’Ravens’ went up, a subtle yet undeniable testament to the growing popularity of the Court’s razor-witted second in command. This growing number of supporters cheered aloud when the Fair & Radiant Maiden flitted into view shortly thereafter. “Can you hear that?” she asked the camera when it pulled in alongside. “That’s the sound of me flying away with this thing. Quoth the Raven, forever more.” Dismissing the home audience she hooked her thumbs together and raised a Raven of her own before pulling it apart and heading down the aisle.
In honor of what she believed would be a career defining moment, Lemarchand chose to debut a new outfit. In place of the usual purple boy-cut trunks were sporty bikini bottoms hued in a purplish-black and emblazoned with a faint design that careful inspection revealed to be feathers. Her top was still halter style, though it too now sported the aforementioned color / pattern. Her elbow and kneepads were matte black, the latter still obscured by loose, bell-flared 'leggings' that started just south of mid-thigh and dropped to ankle length. Those leggings were also black and featured a stylized version of Lemarchand’s raven insignia done in stark white. Her look was finished with shiny black boots and purple wrist tape that matched her togs.
Focused intently on the woman waiting in the squared circle, Lenore actually walked beyond the sign before its message registered. Taking a few steps back, she tilted her head to one side and arched an eyebrow. It read:
The ninety and nine are with dreams, content but the hope of the world made new, is the hundredth man who is grimly bent on making those dreams come true.
Kick Her Ass, Lenore.
Favoring him with a smile that was equally predatory and grateful, she nodded once and said, “Believe me, I will.” She left him with a Raven for him and him alone, then whirled around and raced to the steel steps, which she took in a single bound. Clearing the top rope just as quickly, the Fair & Radiant Maiden locked eyes with Olivia yet again and would’ve gone straight to her if Castle hadn’t laid a restraining hand on her shoulder.
“Go to your corner, Lenore.”
A moment’s hesitation before she backed into the buckles. She’d waited two long months for this night. She could wait a few more seconds.
When the bell CLANGED, both ladies left their respective corners with quick, purposeful strides. Though instinct warned her against it, Lenore paused when she reached the center of the ring and extended her hand. Olivia stopped short and looked between the hand and the woman it belonged to, the clever battler clearly torn between anger and her own personal code. After nearly five seconds, she extended her own hand and squeezed Lemarchand’s twice.
The brunette expected little more than a swat at best or a straight jab to the chin at worst, so she was rather surprised when Dare bore down and drew her in nose to nose. Intimate proximity didn’t make it any easier for Olivia to keep her temper in check, yet she managed to hold back long enough to say, “Protect yourself, luv. Whether you knew about Sue’s plan or not, I’m coming for blood tonight.” She started to pull away, then went to DEFCON Four when the Raven did a little tugging of her own.
“I settled for a pin in February, Olivia.” she almost whispered. “I won’t settle tonight.”
Dare accepted this with a curt nod, tossed off the handshake and stepped back, her hands coming to shoulder level in the same motion. Lenore did the same and went one better by circling to her left. She made no move to encroach on the Englishwoman’s space, but the simple act of moving first was clear enough. Last time she’d followed Olivia. Tonight the Storm followed her. Olivia didn’t seem to mind this in the slightest, indeed there was a faint smile on her lips as she made several feints and slaps at Lemarchand’s biceps and thighs, each of them ignored or blocked by the American without a word of complaint.
Answering with a few false lunges of her own, Lenore held off on a real advance until she’d re-familiarized herself with the cadence of her opponent’s steps. When she thought she had it, the brunette rolled her shoulders and pulled back, the fingers on both hands splaying wide in anticipation of the clench. Olivia noted this and braced herself for the inevitable intrusion a heartbeat before Lenore lunged in and PWA-PWAK!
If great minds thought alike Dare and Lemarchand must have been astonishing intellects because they each switched from grappler to striker in the blink of an eye. Two small, hard right hands flicked across the breach and struck its target flush on the chin.
Blinking as she shook off the jab, Olivia actually grinned. “To ‘ell with subterfuge then, what do you say pretty bird?” She patted her right forearm and added, “Want to see if your European Uppercut can hang with an actual European?”
Lenore stretched her arms wide and took two steps back. “Challenge accepted, ‘Liv. Go ahead and swing first. I know I’ll swing lasNGGH!”
The Oncoming Storm roared in, twisted her hips left and THWHACKED Lemarchand under the chin with a board-stiff European Uppercut. The Raven stumbled, turned and forced herself to stop before she reached the ropes. Oh so delighted by the sight of the American’s hunched shoulders and bowed head, Dare chided, “Need a breather already, luv? I’ll give ya five seconds before I come looking for a second helNNNGGGHH!”
Lenore whirled and dove, her left arm scything up to ‘CLACK!’ the Briton’s teeth with an equally emphatic Uppercut. “I’ve already seen you on your knees with tears in your eyes.” the brunette said while Olivia checked her dentistry. “Tonight I’ll see you on your back with blood in your mou--”
Olivia came at her a second time and Lemarchand swiveled her head to one side. It might’ve taken the tiniest bit of sting off that shot, but it still tested her knees and rang her ears. After that there was no more talk, just grunts and whistling exhalations through pursed lips as the pair of bendy-backed phenoms knocked each other back n’ forth with a whole highlight reel’s worth of European Uppercuts. It wasn’t until Olivia cupped Lenore’s head before delivering her payload that the tone changed. Forced to look down into the proverbial barrel of the gun, Lemarchand rocked up on her heels, swung around and crumpled into the ropes, her arms draped over the top to keep from falling.
While there was no official sign of concession for this contest within a contest, Olivia whooped victoriously, then celebrated by stomping over and bracing her left hand between the American’s shoulders. Right hand curled into a fist, Dare pulled back as far as she could, then stepped in close and swung a brutal Forearm Smash into Lenore’s lower back.
THWHAP!
It was a sound like a baseball bat striking wet clay and the FAWNatics groaned, even those that couldn’t stand Emily’s Lady in Waiting. Shouting in anger mixed with a whole lot more pain, Lemarchand fired an elbow over one shoulder and struck Dare a blindside shot to the chest that backed her off long enough for the brunette to turn around. “What the hell was that, Dare?” the Raven snapped. “I knew you were a sore loser, I didn’t know you were a cheap-shot artist too!”
Olivia bristled at the blatant besmirching of her good name. “Perhaps I didn’t allow you your precious five seconds of rest, but where I’m from a girl who turns her back is a girl who’s through fighting. And a girl who’s through fighting has only begun to suff--”
Lenore stabbed a shot through the blonde’s defenses, the slightly calloused heel of her palm mashing against Dare’s chin and bottom lip. Olivia staggered hard, but caught her balance easily enough. Eyes narrowed, she honed in on Lemarchand and would’ve pounced on her if the Courtier hadn’t raised a hand and brushed at her bottom lip. “Got some red on you, sweet girl.”
Olivia touched her tongue to her lip and tasted copper. Silently furious, she inspected the sore spot with two fingers to confirm the bad news. Sure enough, they came away red.
Lenore’s lips curled in a malicious smile when Dare’s eyes met hers. “Don’t hog it all,” she said softly, “I want a taste too.” The Storm lashed out with a whistling backhand and almost screamed aloud when Lemarchand intercepted it with her forearm. Snatching hold of the Englishwoman’s wrist in an white-knuckle grip, Lenore jerked Dare close and snarled, “I’m through knocking at the door, ‘Liv. Tonight I kick that bytch down.” This was followed by a quick Headbutt between Olivia’s eyes and an arm hooked around the back of her head. Pulling the blonde forward and down, Lemarchand angled back for yet another European Uppercut when Olivia pistoned her right heel onto the American’s toes. Lenore blurted out in pain and collapsed backward into the ropes to maintain her verticality.
The Daredevil straightened up the instant she was free of her foe’s clutches and balanced the scales by sweeping Lenore into HER clutches. Gripping the brunette at the nape of her neck, Olivia pulled her in and stepped forward to add that much more momentum to the Forearm Smash she THWHAPPED against Lenore’s cheek. That cringe-inducing sound was still reaching the cheap seats when Dare repeated her head cupping tactic and checked Lemarchand’s chin with a European Uppercut that knocked the brunette halfway over the top rope.
“No you don’t, princess. That’s too easy.” Olivia growled as she grabbed a double handful of her foe’s hair. Bending Lemarchand over double, the Oncoming Storm drew back her right leg, then stepped in and THWHUMPED the point of that knee into Lenore’s mouth. The Raven’s legs gave out and she went to her knees. Still holding Lemarchand’s hair, Olivia wrenched her head back and was delighted to see a small rill of blood trailing down her rival’s chin. “Got some red on you too, pretty bird. Here, let me.”
Dare tugged the penitent battler’s features against her knee and pullllllled Lenore’s face up the length of her thigh. She swung her hips when Lemarchand’s face was almost level with her waist, the miniature butt smash knocking the bloodied battler onto her side in ragged heap. Deliberately turning her back on the American wreckage, Olivia slowly ‘flicked’ the edges of her bottoms back into place before raising both hands with index fingers lifted in a jaunty ‘V’.
“She’s good,” Dare conceded to those within the sound of her voice, “she might even be great… someday. But she’s not great tonight. If I’m not careful she might NEVER be great.”
Behind her, Lenore pushed up on her hip and dabbed at the blood on her chin. A quick inspection told her it was coming from a small cut on the inside of her bottom lip. It was painful but shallow and had already stopped bleeding. The Raven figured it’d stay that way as long as she could keep the Englishwoman from popping her in the mouth.
That thought was fresh in her mind when Olivia wheeled around from the other side of the ring and chirped, “Enough whimpering for now, pretty bird. Stand up and face me or roll under the bottom rope and slink away until Summer Swelter.”
Lemarchand looked up, her dark eyes hard and cold. Regaining her feet with nary a groan, she ran her tongue over the red, then asked, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you ‘Liv? Get yourself a big win without having to do any real work. I thought it was working for Portia that made someone a spineless coward. Apparently being her bytch has the same effect.”
Dare gave her a smile that didn’t reach the blonde’s eyes. “That might actually offend me if it wasn’t coming from Emily West’s personal valet. I admit, you ride coattails better than most, Lenore.”
Lenore’s jaw clenched and Olivia’s smirk got a little wider. “Emily showed me the way. I made my own path.”
“And it led you to a prolonged, systematic career suicide at my hands.” Olivia countered. “Perhaps you should’ve let Emily do a little more guiding, little girl.”
West’s Lady in Waiting took a threatening step forward. “I didn’t need her guidance to make you squeal like a pig.”
Now it was Dare who stepped forward, her smirk long gone. “Perhaps not. But you will need her considerable genius to extricate your pointy little nose from my arse. I promise ya that much, luvVVVVNNNNNGGGGHHHH!”
Lemarchand came on fast and went low, the limber brunette slamming a shoulder into Olivia’s bare tummy. Driving forward rather than down, the Raven bulled her adversary across the squared circle and would’ve sent them both tumbling through the ropes if the cagey Briton hadn’t looped an arm around her head. Bearing down in an impromptu Front Facelock, Olivia pulled up on Lemarchand’s neck and swung her in a stumbling half circle. Lenore hit the strands broadside and fell through to the apron, the Courtier spared a nasty fall because she managed to hook an arm over the second rope.
“Dangerous place for a pretty bird.” Dare said with mock concern. “All sorts of terrible things might happen.”
One such terrible thing proved to be the Kneelift the former World Champion drove into her opponent’s chest. Grunting raggedly, Lenore maintained her hold on the rope but also balled her other hand into a fist and pounded it into Dare’s side at least half a dozen times. More annoyed than anything else, Olivia answered with a few more Kneelifts, then dropped into a tense crouch to pull the brunette’s throat across the rubber-coated steel.
Lenore started to thrash the instant her windpipe was compressed. She also let loose of the rope to double down on punching the Englishwoman’s ribs, but the angle was such that she was forced to flail and bear it until Nick Castle strode over and ordered, “Get her neck off the ropes, Olivia. Now.”
Dare nodded and stood up, allowing the brunette to breathe again. What she did not do was release the Front Facelock, at least not until she’d pounded a final hard Kneelift into Lemarchand’s sternum. Knowing full well that the official was heartbeats away from telling her to bring it back in the ring, Olivia reached over the ropes, grabbed a double handful of hair and forced the Fair & Radiant Maiden to stand. “Mr. Castle will soon be quite adamant about my returning you to this ring.” Olivia murmured, her forehead almost touching Lemarchand’s. “I will hear and I will comply. But not before teaching you the proper respect for this great battlefield of ours.”
Whatever else this lesson might entail, it started with the Oncoming Storm pulling her rival’s head down so that the top rope was wedged tight against the bottom of her nose and upper lip. Halving the hair-hold so she could reach under the rope to better cup the back of Lenore’s head, Dare laced her fingers tight and dropped to one knee.
It didn’t look like much until Lemarchand started to keen. And why shouldn’t she? Olivia was pulling down with every bit of her hundred and twenty pounds in a simple, sadistic effort to mangle the other woman’s face. Taken aback by what struck him as an uncharacteristically brutal tactic from the technician, Castle didn’t shake off his surprise until the Blackbird started jerking the American’s head back ‘n forth across the rubber-coated steel. “All right ‘Liv, that’s enough!” he barked. “Let’er go before you tear her damned nose off!”
Olivia smiled prettily and kept right on pulling. “Could you speak up, friend? There’s the most horrible wailing in my ear. Seems like two alley cats are having a tryst.”
Not about to play games with a potentially disfiguring tactic, the senior official raised an index finger and started to count, “ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!”
Dare released her grip and stood up, hands held innocently above her head. “I trust you’re satisfied, Mr. Castle?”
Nick gave her a watchful, wary look. “Keep off her face, Olivia. You’re better than that.”
“Correction, I’m better than her.” Crowding the ropes again, the Oncoming Storm snatched Lenore by the nape of the neck and jerked her upright. “Dear lord girl, you look terrible. Take a moment to make yourself respecta--strike that. Make yourself presentable.”
Lenore’s situation didn’t improve when the blonde put a hand against her stinging nose and pushed hard. Eyes watering after the wince-inducing Pie Face, Lenore swung at her tormentor but Dare saw it coming from miles out and swatted it aside. Taking the brunette’s understandable reaction as a sign of aggression, Olivia sprang up and planted her left foot on the middle rope. The right came up n’ around immediately thereafter, that shiny black boot THWHACKING off the side of Lenore’s skull. Lemarchand reeled back in the wake of the Enzugiri but damned if she didn’t maintain that death grip on the top rope and thus keep herself from plummeting to the floor.
Irritated by the Raven’s tenacity, Olivia stood up and tucked some loose hair behind her ears. “Just bloody fall already.” she muttered.
“Just step aside already.” Lenore huffed without even making eye contact.
Dare froze in her tracks. She’d suspected Lemarchand’s goal from the very beginning, but to have it stated so plainly made her see red. “You aren’t woman enough to make me step aside, pretty bird.” the blonde spat. “I am however, more than happy to step ON your delicate little throat.”
Whirling on her heel, Dare charged across the ring, bounced into the strands and raced back the way she’d came. Olivia picked up speed until the moment when she doubled forward and launched herself between middle and top rope for a SpeaNOOOOO!
Lenore twisted aside at the last moment, leaving Dare hung up on her tummy half in and half out of the ring. Positioned on the Englishwoman’s left, Lemarchand snatched hold of her wrist and jerked it out and away, thus exposing Olivia’s torso. Then she reared back, stepped in and THWHAPPED her opponent’s midsection with a Soccer Kick that’d make her mentor proud.
“Get your skinny ass out here,” Lenore growled as soon as she’d secured her foe’s noggin in a Front Facelock. Tugging Dare onto the narrow ledge on the other side of the ropes, the brunette jabbed her left knee into the Storm’s midsection once, twice, three times before angling to one side and simply dropping from the apron to the floor. Yanked along for the ride, Olivia THUNKED into the thinly-sheathed plywood headfirst and froze in a momentary headstand before settling out on her tummy.
APRON DDT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=UpEGzxjvfIc
Feeling much more in control of the situation now that her foe was facedown and mewling, Lenore smoothed back her hair and ‘snapped’ her stylish new bottoms back into place, much to the approval of the front row fans. “Oh, you liked that, did you?” she asked, casting a glance over one shoulder. “Then I bet you’ll love this.” Lemarchand stomped across the narrow aisle, grabbed Olivia by trunks and tresses and slid her down the apron as quick as her legs could carry her. She didn’t break any land-speed records, granted, but Dare certainly didn’t enjoy the ride, nor the sudden stop at the end when her left shoulder BWUNKED against the base of the steel ring-post.
The Englishwoman groaned and started to roll back in the ring but Lenore bore down and yanked her from that precarious perch to THWHUMP to the floor on her face, chest and belly. “So you’re going to step on my throat, are you ‘Liv?” Lenore asked the groaning wrestler. “That could prove difficult to pull off while you’re kissing my feet.”
Dare put her hands to the blue mat and pushed off her tummy. “Sod off, Lenore.” she grunted. “You’re the only one paying tribute toniEEERGGGGHH!”
The Black Courtier reached down for a handful of hair and pulled Olivia up a little farther without letting her get off all fours. Then she put her right knee against the base of opposing neck and dropped down, thus THUMPING Dare’s noggin with a sawed-off Facebuster of sorts.
“Get her back in the ring, Lenore!” Castle demanded when the Fair & Radiant Maiden grabbed her rival by the scruff of the neck. “I’ve been lenient enough stalling the count as it is!”
Lenore looked at him, then dropped Olivia’s noggin with all the regard one might show a piece of rotted fruit. Without getting off her knee, the brunette replied, “If you want me in the ring you’re going to have to count, Nick. Until then I’m going to show this arrogant piece of crap just why I am so goddamned dangerous out here on the floor.”
Knowing that it’d be pointless to do anything other than as she’d suggested, Nick crowded the ropes and started tolling off numbers. Lenore’s pace had been methodical before, almost languid. Now that she was on a clock the Raven wasted no time whatsoever in scraping her opponent off the floor. Soon as Dare was on her feet she hooked one arm over her shoulder and worked the other between her legs. A quick twist of the hips scooped Olivia up over one shoulder and an equally speedy toss sent her back to the mat courtesy a THWHUMPING Body Slam.
Olivia arched high on impact so Lenore spiked a heel into her navel to collapse the impromptu bridge. The ref’s count was barely past ‘FIVE!’ not that that meant Lemarchand took her sweet time in hopping onto the apron. Wheeling around to face the FAWNatics, she hooked her thumbs together and raised ‘the Raven’ high overhead. Hundreds rose to meet her so Lenore said thank you by leaping off the apron with her knees kicked up almost to chest level. Pistoning her feet down when gravity started to take over, Emily’s Lady in Waiting buried both heels in Olivia’s tummy with a Double Stomp that almost folded the lissome blonde in half.
DOUBLE STOMP FROM APRON:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=TFPccBcgctQ
Lemarchand hopped off like it t’weren’t no big thing, then circle around the Briton with hands on her hips to plot her next move. Castle’s count was just past ‘ELEVEN’ and while that was practically an eternity as far as she was concerned, Lenore decided it was time to get the action back in the ring. Nudging Dare onto her stomach purely because she could, Lenore helped herself to another greedy handful of hair and waistband, tugging up on both to get her foe moving and earn a little love from the crowd with the wedgie.
Marching Dare across the narrow space, she stuffed her up under the bottom rope and pushed her into the ring, but not too far, she needed the ropes for what came next. Back in the ring shortly thereafter, Lemarchand turned Olivia around so that she was facing ropes she’d just entered beneath. “I shouldn’t have said what I did earlier,” Lenore admitted as she maneuvered the blonde’s head and shoulders under the bottom strand. “I don’t want you to step aside, ‘Liv. That would be a huge blow to the bendy-back class. But you WILL acknowledge me as an equal, whether it be by choice… or force.”
“You’re not my equal,” Dare grumbled, her voice roughened by the abuse on the floor. “You’re very good. I am the best. There’s a world of difference between the HEY! What are you doing? Get your hands off meNNNGGHH!”
Lenore climbed into a seat on the small of her rival’s back, reached over the bottom rope and seized the Briton’s elbows. Tugging them back and up, she laid them over the rubber-coated steel in what would’ve made for a pretty nasty Camel Clutch if she’d been of the mind. But Lenore had something different in store for the Blackbird. With Olivia’s arms appropriately neutralized and Castle holding his tongue because she hadn’t inflicted any actual punishment yet, the Raven slid south out of her mount and took hold of the other woman’s ankles. Stuffing Dare’s left ankle into the pit of her right knee, Lenore folded the blonde’s right stem up, then reached through the center of the ‘4’ with her left hand to better clasp Olivia’s right ankle in both hands. Knot secured, Lenore stood up (which lifted her prey off the mat in the process) and pushed Dare’s legs forward, thus putting intense pressure on her lower spine with the Inverted Cloverleaf.
INVERTED CLOVERLEAF (sans rope assist)
www.youtube.com/watch?v=mdNfMwko59M
The crowd ‘oooohhhed’ appreciatively and even though they knew the Oncoming Storm would be free sooner than later, it didn’t stop them from chanting ‘PLEASE DON’T TAP!’ at the top of their lungs. Olivia damned sure wasn’t going to tap, but she was equally glad that Lemarchand hadn’t unleashed this on her during a Pure Rules or even worse, a No DQ match. Shaking her head ‘no, no, no!’ as her tummy got higher and higher and her feet got closer and closer to the back of her head, Olivia held in a groan and hoped Castle’s count was on the way.
Grimfaced as she tried to mold Dare into a perfect circle, Lemarchand leaaaaaaaaaaned in and growled, “Go on and scream, ‘Liv. There’s no shame in screaming when you’re being bent by the best.”
The hell of it was, Olivia DID feel like screaming, but she wasn’t about to make that sort of concession to this wannabe usurper. So she clenched her jaw, lowered her head and held it in as Castle started to bark at the Courtier. “That’s enough, Lenore! Let go of her right now!”
Lemarchand nodded her understanding. “Sure. Just as soon as you count, Nick.” So Castle did and Lenore let go as promised, she even cleared off with her hands raised, just to prove how cooperative she could be.
Free of that insidious Cloverleaf, the Blackbird wriggled her arms loose of the rope, then twisted sideways and hooked an arm around it again just to keep her anchored in place. A breather on the floor probably would’ve been wiser, but Dare couldn’t bring herself to cede the ring to the Raven. Alas the choice was taken from her when Lemarchand strode over and shoved a foot into her ribs. Olivia groaned, held on a little tighter, but Lenore grabbed the top rope for extra leverage and stomped away until the blonde was forced under the bottom rope to the floor below.
Leaned up against the strands, Lenore wiped hair away from her face and promised, “You can come back inside when you’re ready to admit who you’re dealing with. Not a second before, ‘Liv.”
Dare landed on her feet, though she did lean heavily against the apron to keep upright in the wake of this most recent pasting. Gripping the bottom rope for a little extra support, she mopped a forearm across her brow before looking to the American. “I’m sorry, I could swear you said I needed your permission to reenter the ring.”
Lenore stayed close to the ropes, but not so close the blonde could lunge under and grab an ankle. “Permission is such an authoritarian word.” she said with a faint smile. “Let’s call it… my blessing.”
The softened language did nothing to soothe Olivia’s chagrin. “There seems to be a fundamental error in our communications, ‘luv.” she raised her hand to the middle rope and planted a knee on the apron. “You see, I am a former Lightweight Champion. I am a former World Champion, not only that, I am the LONGEST reigning World Champion in the history of this erstwhile promotion, so if there’s anyone here who needs to seek permission to enter this ring…” The Daredevil sprang onto the narrow ledge and regarded her opponent with narrowed, glittering eyes. “It’s the insolent little CHAV who thinks she’s good enough to hang with--”
Lemarchand flicked out a hand that turned Olivia’s cheek and reddened it in a single stroke. Swinging her head back around after a moment’s reflection, Olivia murmured, “You’re going to hurt for that, Lenore. I promNNNGGGHH!”
Insolent or not, the Raven meant every bit of her own promise and proved it by leaving her feet in a gorgeous vertical leap. The aforementioned feet were promptly stuffed into Dare’s chin via a Dropkick that sent the former World Champion tumbling to the floor. Olivia returned to the earth in a drunken stagger though it should be noted she never truly went down, not even when she banged into the guardrail and held it like a lifeline.
Momentarily stunned by the breadth and scope of her own fury, the Englishwoman came back to herself when she realized the crowd was offering up either a cheer, a warning or both. Eyes up, she saw Lemarchand hit the ropes on the opposite side en route to a quick bounce back the way she’d came. Instinct shrieked for defense while pride growled for attack. Considering her treatment in the last several minutes, it was an easy decision. Holding her ground until Lenore was almost to the ropes, Olivia stepped forward when the brunette dove between the top and middle ropes and stopped the Suicide Dive dead in its tracks by THWHACKING a European Uppercut into her foe’s chin.
SUICIDE D'OH!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=HWQ8RDgPdVY
Lenore’s head snapped up then slumped down, one forearm braced sluggishly against the apron while the other swaddled her aching skull. In no mood to let the brunette contemplate her maladies in peace, Olivia swatted that protecting arm away and helped herself to a huge handful of hair. “I was going to elbow several new dents in your pretty face.” she cooed after raising Lemarchand to the closest parody of upright that she could muster. “Then I realized, you don’t deserve to suffer my Forearm Smash. Those are for wrestlers. THESE are for you.”
The words were barely out of Dare’s mouth when her free hand whistled up and across to CRAAACK Lenore’s cheek with a Bytch Slap. The Brit’s pace was relatively methodical for the first three shots or so. After that the tempo picked up and she really put her shoulder into it, ‘Liv just cra-cra-cra-cra-cra-cra-CRAAAACKING away at every square inch of the Fair & Radiant Maiden’s once flawless features. Ending it only when her shoulder started to ache, Dare claimed ownership of Lemarchand’s right wrist, then stepped away and twisted it ’round in a remarkably superfluous Arm Wringer. Once that was secured she kicked up her left leg, stuffed that foot against the side of Lenore’s face and laid out on her back to jerk the Yank out of the ring and down into the biggest platter of Sole Food FAWN had ever seen.
Too woozy to do more than brace for (another) impact, Lemarchand flopped to one side after dining on Dare’s boot and hit the thin blue mats hard on her left shoulder and hip. Though she very much wanted to dole out more punishment on the spot, Olivia heard Castle’s count hit ’TEN!’ and knew she needed to head inside. Only for a moment however, she had not yet begun to show this pretender what sort of terrors waited outside the safe confines of the squared circle.
Struggling to her feet, she grabbed the bottom rope in both hands and pulled herself up under the bottom rope. Nick stepped back with a word of commendation that transformed into a muttered curse the instant she slid back to the floor. Lenore hadn’t done much moving when Olivia got back to her, which was just as it should’ve been. Even so, the blonde didn’t want to waste a single second so there was no preening or posing, simply a huge double fistful of hair to get the grounded grappler on her feet. “I know you consider yourself something of a specialist when it comes to No Disqualification matches.” Dare reared back on her toes and THWHUMPED the brunette’s noggin into the ring apron. “What is it that the fans have taken to calling you? Oh yes, Hardcore Lenore. Charming, if I may say so.”
Still holding Lemarchand’s hair, Olivia leaned down on the back of the American’s head, making it that much more painful when she started scrubbing Lenore’s forehead back and forth against the canvas-draped plywood! The Raven wailed and tried to squirm away. When that failed she gouged a few elbows into Olivia’s ribs but she was so weak from gorging on Sole Food that Dare shrugged them off and delivered a few retaliatory Kneelifts. Yanking Lemarchand up only when she was satisfied, the Oncoming Storm inspected that pink, abraded face and smiled broadly. “Oh yes, you could certainly pass for someone who’d last perhaps a week in the WOLF’s den. But do you sound like one?” Seeking answers to that and many other questions, Olivia loped down the side of the ring, stepped out of the way and tossed her burden into a BWUNKING forehead on ringpost collision.
Lemarchand wrapped an arm around it to stay standing but there was no mistaking the drunken sag in her knees. A quick check told Dare the ref was almost halfway through his count again. Rather than refresh it a second time she stepped around to the other side of the post and helped herself to the brunette’s wrists. Then she jerked Lenore into it chest-first, raised her right foot and braced it against the unyielding steel. Leaning back to the limits of balance, Olivia jostled her prey’s wrists and demanded, “Kiss the steel, Lenore! Better yet, worship it! Go on you yammering little girl, you’ve got so much respect for this ring and what we do in it? Then pucker up and show it the adulation it truly deserves you unworthy twat!”
Lenore didn’t kiss the ringpost, in fact she’d twisted her head to the side so that it slid painfully against her jaw and temple. While it might not have been exactly what Dare wanted, this arrangement allowed her shrieks to wash over the first several rows and that was an adequate trade as far as the blonde was concerned. Keeping at it until Nick hit ’SIXTEEN!’ Olivia cast those struggling wrists aside and dove under the bottom rope.
“Bring it back in the ring, ’Liv.” Castle ordered before she could roll away again. “If you’d wanted a Hardcore Match you should have asked for one.”
Posted on one knee, Olivia told him, “That woman desperately needs a lesson in respect, Nick. I’ll return her to the ring as soon as I feel she’s made adequate progress in that regard.” Then she dipped out a second time, leaving the senior official to start the count all over again. “You’re looking a bit the worse for wear, Lenore.” Olivia noted once she’d rejoined the fray. “I do believe your legs could give out at any time. Perhaps you’d benefit from a short rest.”
Snatching the American by the nape of her neck, Dare peeled her away from the post and slung her right arm around Lenore’s shoulders like they were old friends instead of two women who’d spent the better part of six months trying to beat one another into rubble. “Legs still feeling shaky, ’luv?” Olivia cooed into her rival’s ear. “I believe this will help.” The Oncoming Storm must’ve had a very unique idea of what constituted help, because she twined her right leg around Lemarchand’s left, leaned forward until they were both almost doubled over, then snapped up and back to BWANG the Courtier spine-first into the barricade with a Side Russian Leg Sweep.
RUSSIAN LEG SWEEP AGAINST BARRICADE @ 1:02
www.youtube.com/watch?v=SmB3DEnP6Q8
The maneuver wasn’t entirely without consequence for the Englishwoman as the guardrail struck her across the shoulders quite smartly, but the site of Lenore dropping to her knees in semi-paralyzed agony more than made up for it. “Hmmmmmh, sitting down didn’t seem to prove the calmative I thought it might.” Dare told the Raven as she got back to her feet. “If sitting can’t get the job done, perhaps a nap will be better balm.”
In the ring, Nick Castle stepped onto the bottom rope and called, “Get it back in the ring, Olivia! I mean--”
“WHEN SHE HAS LEARNED!” Olivia practically screamed it, her fury causing the ref to stumble awkwardly from his perch. Regaining control of her emotions just like that, Dare swiped a hand through her own hair before plunging it into Lenore’s sweat-damp locks. “This woman demanded the best of me, Mr. Castle. I plan on giving it to her, even if she lives to regret it.”
That settled the issue for a moment (or at least tabled it while Castle resumed his count) so Olivia hauled Lemarchand upright and turned her around to face the audience. After she’d snagged a healthy handful of the brunette’s trunks, Dare turned her attention to the FAWNatics. “For those of you drinking good beer, I’d advise you to finish it now or get out of the way. If you’re downing the cheap swill, feel free to pour it on this one in case she needs reviving.”
The last word was still on her lips when she took a single giant step forward and pitched the Raven into about half a dozen laps. Beer was indeed spilled and most of it on Lenore, but not nearly as much as you might imagine and that was mostly because the fans were fearful of Black Court retaliation. Even so, Olivia enjoyed the sight of her foe bouncing off that small section of startled fandom before crumpling to the cement floor on her hands and knees.
The count was getting high again, so Dare looked over her shoulder and pointed at the official. “We are on our way back in, you have my word. So hold your tongue for ten more seconds, then you may harp on me to your heart’s content.”
Castle knew damned well he should count them both out. He also knew that Christian, DeCyr and Thomas himself would give him all sorts of grief for letting such a pivotal match in a draw. So he nodded and said, “Ten seconds, ’Liv. Starting now.”
Dare didn’t bother to thank him, she simply reached over the barrier, snatched hold of the American’s hair and scraped her off the floor. Preoccupied with the count she kept in her head, Olivia stayed quiet as she dipped said head and wedged it under Lemarchand’s left arm. Then she clamped down on the other woman’s wrists and bridged up, over and down to return Lenore to the field of play with a Double Wrist Clutch Northern Lights Suplex.
DOUBLE WRIST CLUTCH NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=LDLpwfv0T4o
THWAPPED flat against the barely-padded floor, Lemarchand arched her back and slopped to one side, a bit of resistance made possible because Dare didn’t bother to hold the bridge. Being free of a cover didn’t mean much for her long-term well being however, the Fair & Radiant Maiden had barely begun to assess the damage done when Olivia hauled her up by the roots and tossed her into the ring like so much refuse.
Supremely satisfied with the lesson delivered outside the ring, Dare hopped onto the apron and started through the ropes only to pull back for a look at the crowd. “Would it be too much to ask for a ‘She’s hardcore’ chant?” Apparently it was no trouble at all because the Stormchasers broke it out at once. The rest of the crowd joined in quickly and the whole place rang with ‘SHE’S HARDCORE!’ as the former FAWN World Champion returned to the lesson at hand.
With her brawling bona fides well established, Dare shifted back to technician mode the instant she grabbed the top rope in both hands. Leaning back in a tense crouch, she vaulted onto the rubber-coated steel, flew off and kicked both legs out straight. Only the right THWHUMPED across Lenore’s chest but that was more than enough to jolt the Raven like she’d been touched with a live wire. Spinning to one knee in the aftermath, Dare stretched out atop the brunette’s chest and hooked the far leg for…
SPRINGBOARD LEG DROP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=kgMFen5rric
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
Lemarchand shot an arm up with a half second separating her from defeat. Olivia put her hands on her knees and took a deep breath. “That’s my fault. I should’ve known you couldn’t be convinced to stay down. Therefore I’ll have to force it upon you.”
Setting to this task with a smile on her face and a song in her heart, Dare got to her feet, circled around to the brunette’s ankles and took possession of the left. “Free bit of advice, pretty bird.” Olivia said when she hauled Lenore’s leg off the mat. “If you’re going to fold a girl in half, make sure she’s not already in the ropes.” She illustrated the useful nature of this tip by draaaaaaaaagging the Raven into the centre of the ring, well away from anything remotely resembling sanctuary.
With the stage appropriately set, Dare stretched her prey’s captured leg out full length, lowered her shoulders and draped it across her shoulders in preparation for “NNNGGGGHHH!” Lenore reared back on her shoulders as best she could and jabbed her right foot into Olivia’s hip. Dare shuddered a bit but didn’t abandon her bid for the Oli-Viaticum, so Lenore kept on kicking, first at her ribs, then a couple between her shoulders and finally one off the side of the Brit’s head.
Finally dissuaded from her current plan, Olivia staggered back and collapsed into the ropes to better rub out the heel-induced aches. “Fighting against the inevitable now, pretty bird.” Dare called to the recovering brunette. “I broke you on the outside. If you make me break you between the ropes there won’t be enough left to put you back together.”
Lenore had pushed to one knee following her escape, now she looked to the other bendy-back and smiled. “Since when does the Oncoming Storm resort to threats?”
Olivia pulled herself out of the strands and stood up straight. “Not a threat, ‘luv. That’s a promise.”
Lemarchand got to her feet as well. “If that were true I’d be on my belly with one foot getting closer and closer to the back of my head. “I think you’re gassing out and you don’t want anyone to kn--”
Dare came on as sudden as her namesake, the lissom battler crossing the canvas in a blur to whip her right leg up in a Yakuza Kick that whistled through the space occupied by Lemarchand’s head a half second prior. Whirling around the instant she caught her balance, Olivia stepped in and twisted her hips, that wiry right arm already coming across for a European Upper--
Lenore blocked it with the ‘X’ of her crossed forearms, then snatched hold of her blonde’s wrist and jerked her into a short Shoulder block. Olivia staggered but didn’t go far, making it easy for the Raven to reel her into another pair of jolting Shoulder blocks. These she followed with a Forearm Smash to the mug and a tart Arm Ringer that had Dare slapping at her shoulder. At least she would’ve slapped at her shoulder if Lemarchand hadn’t planted her right foot against the side of the former champ’s face and laid out on her back.
The ‘OOOOOHHHHHH!’ of the crowd almost overwhelmed the THWHUMP of Olivia landing on her back. Gimmick infringement was one thing. Force feeding Dare some Sole Food of her own? That was something else all together. Slow to rise after her desperation counter, Lenore nevertheless made it to one knee before her adversary, who was still clutching her aching mug with both hands. Working her fingers into Olivia’s battle-damp hair, Lemarchand rose to her full height and tugged on the reins a bit.
“C’mon ‘Liv. We’re not quite done YETTEERRRRGGGHHHH FAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHK!”
Properly enraged by the misappropriation of one of her favourite manoeuvres, the former World Champion threw decorum to the wolves and ‘shumped’ her right hand between the Raven’s thighs. Lenore’s knees buckled almost at once, but she kept her hair-hold in place and made Olivia pay for her affront with some truly savage yanking. “Let go right now, bytch.” the Raven demanded through clenched teeth. “Or I’ll scalp you better than Bloodwind ever coulDDEERRRRHHHHHH BYTCH!”
Dare bore down all the harder, attacking her rival’s undercarriage with a ferocity previously reserved for Dream and VanBuren. “Release my hair and perhaps I’ll consider it,” the blonde rasped, her tone as ragged and unpleasant as the American’s. “Otherwise I’ll grit my teeth and find out how deep this filthy trench actually ruNSSSSSAAAAAAHH LEGGO RIGHT THIS INSTANT YOU BLOODY TROLLOP!”
Quickly realizing that her current grip couldn’t match the Crotch Claw, Lemarchand relinquished Olivia’s tresses only to immediately clamp down on the clearly-limned outlines of her nipples. Twisting for all she was worth, Lenore added a jostling pull to her torment and hissed, “You’re the one who’ll bleed if you don’t get out of my trunks right NOOOOWWWW SHHHHIIIIIT!”
Unable to muster any real attack without releasing her talon, Olivia curled her free hand into a similarly wicked weapon and raaaaaaaaked it across the Courtier’s eyes. This brought a warning from the official which Dare ignored entirely; she was far too busy salting away her prey for the night. Slowly rising with the Crotch Claw still in place, Dare finally let loose when Lenore made it to boot leather as well. Snatching the brunette’s left ankle with no real trouble, Olivia lifted the limb to hip level, then twisted around and dipped under it so the pit of Lemarchand’s knee was snugged against the nape of her neck. Then she stood up and caught Lenore’s noggin in a Front Facelock, thus completing the preparations for her deadly Quatermass Buster.
Bolstered by the roars of her fans, Olivia let loose with a roar of her own as she gathered her reserves and hoisted the Fair & Radiant Maiden off her “AAAARRRGGHHHH AAAAAAAAAHHHH YOU VILE SLUT!”
Dare’s meticulously applied hooks dropped away like magic the instant Lenore reached out with her unencumbered right hand and snatched hold of the Briton’s waistband. A single strong tug pulled the material deep into clefts both fore and aft and understandably rendered all other concerns secondary.
Dropped on one knee in front of the wincing blonde, Lenore plucked Olivia’s left hand away from her stinging groin and forced herself to stand. Rather than go for an Irish Whip she backed off as far as she could without breaking the Wristlock, then charged and dropped into a Baseball Slide that took her between Dare’s parted stems. She popped up on the other side and used the newly forged Pumphandle to spin Olivia around into a Standing Headscissors. In the span between heartbeats she reached down with her other hand, seized the Briton’s right wrist and yanked it back through her gams to double down on the Pumphandle.
Oblivious to the burgeoning roar rumbling in the FAWNatics, Emily’s Lady in Waiting bent her knees and jerked up so hard that Dare somersaulted off her feet and *almost* onto the brunette’s shoulders for what might’ve been a Powerbomb in less clever hands. Jerking on the ‘X’ of Olivia’s wrists as she took a giant step backward, Lenore pushed onto her toes and sat out full force. Dare turned her head to one side as the canvas rushed up to meet her, the only precaution she could manage in the instant before she THWHAMMED into the thinly-sheathed plywood.
NEVERMORE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=6nQ8LdfBoNs
The Nevermore bounced Olivia over and up to a boneless seat that she vacated just as soon as the Raven pushed her onto her back. Though she usually followed the hellacious face plant with her signature Schoolgirl cover and salute, Lenore had grown wary ever since Maggie Connor kicked out of it a year or more back. So to guard against it she pounced on the Storm tummy to tummy and hooked her across the calves in a Double Leg Grapevine. No lazy, casual cover this however. Having also snatched Olivia’s wrists, Lenore slammed them against the canvas, mashed her chest into the Englishwoman’s face and bore down with every bit of strength that remained. She knew Olivia wasn’t unconscious, she could feel the squirming blonde raging against her sternum while Castle counted…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
Olivia wrenched a hand loose and clouted Lenore under the chin, but the brunette barely felt it. She was already up and bellowing with triumph when the Announcer noted, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via pin-fall… LENORE LEMARCHAND! She now leads the series two falls to one.”
“She now leads the series two falls to one,” Lenore repeated in a near whisper. “Goddamned right she does.”
Nick came over to stand beside her. “Hard fought win, Lenore. Think that’s the best work I’ve ever seen from you. Congratulations.” The ref took her by the wrist and raised it to the rafters.
There were plenty of boos from the Stormchasers and Court Haters of course, but they seemed quieter than usual and Lemarchand wondered if she’d earned herself a few more Twitter followers with this performance. That was certainly worth checking out and she would do so before bed, for now though, there was something more pressing at hand. Mopping a forearm across her brow, the Raven turned around and saw Olivia rise thanks to an assist from Castle. The two exchanged a few murmured words before Dare patted him on the shoulder and headed for the ropes with her head down.
“Hey.” Lenore called after her. “We’re not done yet, Olivia.”
The Oncoming Storm stopped, looked around and regarded Lemarchand with a look she didn’t much like. “Far as I’m concerned we’re finished until Summer Swelter.”
“And that’ll be true. Just as soon as we shake hands.” Lenore extended her hand and was more than a little rankled when Olivia swiped at it with one foot.
“I have no intention of shaking your hand after the way you yanked my trunks up inside me to win that damned match. But I will happily loosen some teeth if so much as twitch.”
Anger took control of the Raven’s mouth before sense could provide a filter. “You’re giving me shyt over a two second wedgie when you should’ve been paying rent on that fahking Crotch Claw? Get over yourself, ‘Liv. I beat you fair and square. So shake my hand and we’ll go our separate ways until June.”
“I shook your hand before because I thought that maybe, just maybe you were being honest about not knowing anything about Susan’s plan for Eliza. But any chav who steals moves and pulls tights doesn’t deserve the benefit of a doubt.”
Lenore’s hands clenched into fists. “I told you I didn’t know anything about that. I gave you my word. What more do you want, an honor--”
“Your word is shyt and your honor is non-existent. I want neither, Lenore.” Olivia said it quietly, but it thundered in Lemarchand’s ears regardless.
After a long, slow exhalation, the brunette replied, “I’ve beaten you in two straight falls, Olivia. That might not mean anything to you, but it’s the biggest accomplishment of my career thus far and I mean to have a souvenir of my victory. I wanted your hand… denied that, I’ll settle for your top.”
Olivia’s gaze had drifted from the American, now it shot back as if magnetized. “There are some things you don’t come back from, pretty bird. This is one of them. Don’t ever make that threat against me again, understand?”
Lenore stuck out her hand one more time. “Shake my hand and I won’t. It’s that simple, ‘Liv.”
Dare sighed, thought about it for a moment, then reached for the Courtier’s ha--CRAAACK! She belted Lemarchand across the mouth with a Bytch Slap that reopened the wound on the brunette’s lower lip. “You disgust me, Lenore. It’s as simple as that.”
Olivia went to turn and Lenore pounced on her in a fury, the aggrieved Raven taking her rage out on the blonde’s hair by the double fistful. Feeling far from peaceable herself, Dare returned the favour and immediately thereafter the arena was filled with a cacophony of screams as that pair of world-class grapplers forgot everything they knew about technique in favour of hate-fuelled savagery.
Barely aware of the tears welling at the corners of her eyes, Lemarchand ploughed her opponent into the strands, then let out a serpentine hiss when Olivia torqued her hips to send them barrelling along the edge. She hit the buckles with a low grunt that got considerably louder as soon as Dare chested up on her like she meant to crush the brunette between her abs and the unyielding steel. Wrenching Lemarchand’s head back at an ugly angle, Olivia leaned and bared her teeth in an unconscious imitation of Adelaide Brewster. “You’ve proven an adequate wrestler, pretty bird. I won’t argue that.” the Briton panted. “But standing alongside me is about more than holds and counter-holds. It’s about how you handle yourself against an opponent who means to humble you compleNNNGGHH!”
Lenore repaid an offense from earlier in the battle by THWHUMPING her left knee against the other woman’s crotch. Olivia shuddered, tried to hold on and found herself spun into the buckles Lemarchand so recently occupied. Pressed in nose to nose with the Storm, Lenore wedged a forearm against the hollow of Dare’s throat and grrrrround it back n’ forth.
“I gave you EVERY opportunity to do this clean.” she said through clenched teeth. “I offered my hand and you spat in my face. So, you really wanted to face the woman that broke Cynthia Mitchell, the woman that owns Ivy Armstrong’s denim, the woman that shredded Roxanne McCrimmon’s self confidence? Is that who you wanted to fight, Olivia? Congratulations, bytch. You got her.”
Another shot to the blonde’s groin kept her nice and pliant while Lenore seized her shoulder-straps and peeled the top up and away, much to the delight and consternation of a conflicted crowd.
Choked with hatred as soon as the cool air hit her bare chest, Olivia shoved free of the corner and swiped for her stolen attire but Lenore flitted through the ropes to the floor as nimbly as her namesake. One arm angled snugly across her modest assets, Dare looked down on the Courtier and promised, “Give it back right now, Lenore. Do that and I won’t destroy your career in June.”
Lenore shook her head ‘no’. “Too late for compromise, Olivia. I wanted an exhibition and you gave me a fire fight. So now it’s war. And this…” she held up Dare’s top on one crooked finger. “Is the first casualty. Quoth the Raven, you skinny bytch.”
With that she tucked the stolen togs in against one hip, whirled around and stalked up the aisle, leaving a paralyzed, murder-eyed Olivia Dare to start counting the days until their penultimate encounter began.
The Spring Breakers let loose an appropriately thunderous cheer as when the sound system replied with the languid, somehow dangerous drumbeat of Hooverphonic’s ‘2Wicky’. That manmade thunder crashed all the louder when the former FAWN World Champion appeared atop the stage to salute the faithful with an index finger raised high overhead.
OLIVIA DARE:
For her third battle with this wannabe Blackbird, the blonde wore a pair of stormy black bikini briefs edged with silver trim and cut high enough to give the throng a tantalizing view of her sculpted hips, thighs and calves. The other half of her ensemble usually included a matching bustier, but tonight it was absent in favor of a simple sports bra, also done in black and edged with silver. Short black wrestling shoes and silver knee and elbow pads rounded out the rest of her outfit.
Having waited for this moment ever since the closing bell in their February match, Olivia made her way down the aisle at a near jog, though she still stopped to inspect a sign that read:
1-1?
TIE HER IN KNOTS, OLIVIA!
“Have no fear dear man,” she told the beaming fan, “for that is my exact intention.” After gracing the sign with a quick signature, Olivia pulled away and made her way from the steps to the center of the apron. Flashing the crowd a glimpse of FAWN’s most radiant grin, Olivia hooked her arms over the top rope, then dipped her knees and tumbled backward to land on her feet with barely a whisper.
Greeted by senior official Nick Castle, Dare offered him knees, elbows and wrists without hesitation. “And where is our Mister Carpenter?” Olivia asked when the ref stepped away. “Did he finally grow weary of this match-up?”
“Hardly, in fact he was pretty bummed when he saw the line-up tonight. But given the way you two have upped the intensity with each outing, brass thought this one should fall on me. So go easy, ok ‘Liv?”
“I will do no such thing.” she said with a smirk.
“I meant on me.”
“As did I. No quarter for you and certainly not for the Raven. Not after what Susan did to Eliza earlier.” With that, she backed into a corner on the far side of the ring and turned her attention to the curtain at the top of the ramp.
The Announcer cut through the pseudo-silence with the second half of his obligation. “And introducing her opponent, representing the Black Court, hailing from Glen Echo Michigan, she stands at five feet seven inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and thirty-one pounds. They call her the Raven… LENORE LEMARCHAND!”
LENORE LEMARCHAND:
Kula Shaker’s ‘Hush’ hit the speakers and dozens of handmade ’Ravens’ went up, a subtle yet undeniable testament to the growing popularity of the Court’s razor-witted second in command. This growing number of supporters cheered aloud when the Fair & Radiant Maiden flitted into view shortly thereafter. “Can you hear that?” she asked the camera when it pulled in alongside. “That’s the sound of me flying away with this thing. Quoth the Raven, forever more.” Dismissing the home audience she hooked her thumbs together and raised a Raven of her own before pulling it apart and heading down the aisle.
In honor of what she believed would be a career defining moment, Lemarchand chose to debut a new outfit. In place of the usual purple boy-cut trunks were sporty bikini bottoms hued in a purplish-black and emblazoned with a faint design that careful inspection revealed to be feathers. Her top was still halter style, though it too now sported the aforementioned color / pattern. Her elbow and kneepads were matte black, the latter still obscured by loose, bell-flared 'leggings' that started just south of mid-thigh and dropped to ankle length. Those leggings were also black and featured a stylized version of Lemarchand’s raven insignia done in stark white. Her look was finished with shiny black boots and purple wrist tape that matched her togs.
Focused intently on the woman waiting in the squared circle, Lenore actually walked beyond the sign before its message registered. Taking a few steps back, she tilted her head to one side and arched an eyebrow. It read:
The ninety and nine are with dreams, content but the hope of the world made new, is the hundredth man who is grimly bent on making those dreams come true.
Kick Her Ass, Lenore.
Favoring him with a smile that was equally predatory and grateful, she nodded once and said, “Believe me, I will.” She left him with a Raven for him and him alone, then whirled around and raced to the steel steps, which she took in a single bound. Clearing the top rope just as quickly, the Fair & Radiant Maiden locked eyes with Olivia yet again and would’ve gone straight to her if Castle hadn’t laid a restraining hand on her shoulder.
“Go to your corner, Lenore.”
A moment’s hesitation before she backed into the buckles. She’d waited two long months for this night. She could wait a few more seconds.
When the bell CLANGED, both ladies left their respective corners with quick, purposeful strides. Though instinct warned her against it, Lenore paused when she reached the center of the ring and extended her hand. Olivia stopped short and looked between the hand and the woman it belonged to, the clever battler clearly torn between anger and her own personal code. After nearly five seconds, she extended her own hand and squeezed Lemarchand’s twice.
The brunette expected little more than a swat at best or a straight jab to the chin at worst, so she was rather surprised when Dare bore down and drew her in nose to nose. Intimate proximity didn’t make it any easier for Olivia to keep her temper in check, yet she managed to hold back long enough to say, “Protect yourself, luv. Whether you knew about Sue’s plan or not, I’m coming for blood tonight.” She started to pull away, then went to DEFCON Four when the Raven did a little tugging of her own.
“I settled for a pin in February, Olivia.” she almost whispered. “I won’t settle tonight.”
Dare accepted this with a curt nod, tossed off the handshake and stepped back, her hands coming to shoulder level in the same motion. Lenore did the same and went one better by circling to her left. She made no move to encroach on the Englishwoman’s space, but the simple act of moving first was clear enough. Last time she’d followed Olivia. Tonight the Storm followed her. Olivia didn’t seem to mind this in the slightest, indeed there was a faint smile on her lips as she made several feints and slaps at Lemarchand’s biceps and thighs, each of them ignored or blocked by the American without a word of complaint.
Answering with a few false lunges of her own, Lenore held off on a real advance until she’d re-familiarized herself with the cadence of her opponent’s steps. When she thought she had it, the brunette rolled her shoulders and pulled back, the fingers on both hands splaying wide in anticipation of the clench. Olivia noted this and braced herself for the inevitable intrusion a heartbeat before Lenore lunged in and PWA-PWAK!
If great minds thought alike Dare and Lemarchand must have been astonishing intellects because they each switched from grappler to striker in the blink of an eye. Two small, hard right hands flicked across the breach and struck its target flush on the chin.
Blinking as she shook off the jab, Olivia actually grinned. “To ‘ell with subterfuge then, what do you say pretty bird?” She patted her right forearm and added, “Want to see if your European Uppercut can hang with an actual European?”
Lenore stretched her arms wide and took two steps back. “Challenge accepted, ‘Liv. Go ahead and swing first. I know I’ll swing lasNGGH!”
The Oncoming Storm roared in, twisted her hips left and THWHACKED Lemarchand under the chin with a board-stiff European Uppercut. The Raven stumbled, turned and forced herself to stop before she reached the ropes. Oh so delighted by the sight of the American’s hunched shoulders and bowed head, Dare chided, “Need a breather already, luv? I’ll give ya five seconds before I come looking for a second helNNNGGGHH!”
Lenore whirled and dove, her left arm scything up to ‘CLACK!’ the Briton’s teeth with an equally emphatic Uppercut. “I’ve already seen you on your knees with tears in your eyes.” the brunette said while Olivia checked her dentistry. “Tonight I’ll see you on your back with blood in your mou--”
Olivia came at her a second time and Lemarchand swiveled her head to one side. It might’ve taken the tiniest bit of sting off that shot, but it still tested her knees and rang her ears. After that there was no more talk, just grunts and whistling exhalations through pursed lips as the pair of bendy-backed phenoms knocked each other back n’ forth with a whole highlight reel’s worth of European Uppercuts. It wasn’t until Olivia cupped Lenore’s head before delivering her payload that the tone changed. Forced to look down into the proverbial barrel of the gun, Lemarchand rocked up on her heels, swung around and crumpled into the ropes, her arms draped over the top to keep from falling.
While there was no official sign of concession for this contest within a contest, Olivia whooped victoriously, then celebrated by stomping over and bracing her left hand between the American’s shoulders. Right hand curled into a fist, Dare pulled back as far as she could, then stepped in close and swung a brutal Forearm Smash into Lenore’s lower back.
THWHAP!
It was a sound like a baseball bat striking wet clay and the FAWNatics groaned, even those that couldn’t stand Emily’s Lady in Waiting. Shouting in anger mixed with a whole lot more pain, Lemarchand fired an elbow over one shoulder and struck Dare a blindside shot to the chest that backed her off long enough for the brunette to turn around. “What the hell was that, Dare?” the Raven snapped. “I knew you were a sore loser, I didn’t know you were a cheap-shot artist too!”
Olivia bristled at the blatant besmirching of her good name. “Perhaps I didn’t allow you your precious five seconds of rest, but where I’m from a girl who turns her back is a girl who’s through fighting. And a girl who’s through fighting has only begun to suff--”
Lenore stabbed a shot through the blonde’s defenses, the slightly calloused heel of her palm mashing against Dare’s chin and bottom lip. Olivia staggered hard, but caught her balance easily enough. Eyes narrowed, she honed in on Lemarchand and would’ve pounced on her if the Courtier hadn’t raised a hand and brushed at her bottom lip. “Got some red on you, sweet girl.”
Olivia touched her tongue to her lip and tasted copper. Silently furious, she inspected the sore spot with two fingers to confirm the bad news. Sure enough, they came away red.
Lenore’s lips curled in a malicious smile when Dare’s eyes met hers. “Don’t hog it all,” she said softly, “I want a taste too.” The Storm lashed out with a whistling backhand and almost screamed aloud when Lemarchand intercepted it with her forearm. Snatching hold of the Englishwoman’s wrist in an white-knuckle grip, Lenore jerked Dare close and snarled, “I’m through knocking at the door, ‘Liv. Tonight I kick that bytch down.” This was followed by a quick Headbutt between Olivia’s eyes and an arm hooked around the back of her head. Pulling the blonde forward and down, Lemarchand angled back for yet another European Uppercut when Olivia pistoned her right heel onto the American’s toes. Lenore blurted out in pain and collapsed backward into the ropes to maintain her verticality.
The Daredevil straightened up the instant she was free of her foe’s clutches and balanced the scales by sweeping Lenore into HER clutches. Gripping the brunette at the nape of her neck, Olivia pulled her in and stepped forward to add that much more momentum to the Forearm Smash she THWHAPPED against Lenore’s cheek. That cringe-inducing sound was still reaching the cheap seats when Dare repeated her head cupping tactic and checked Lemarchand’s chin with a European Uppercut that knocked the brunette halfway over the top rope.
“No you don’t, princess. That’s too easy.” Olivia growled as she grabbed a double handful of her foe’s hair. Bending Lemarchand over double, the Oncoming Storm drew back her right leg, then stepped in and THWHUMPED the point of that knee into Lenore’s mouth. The Raven’s legs gave out and she went to her knees. Still holding Lemarchand’s hair, Olivia wrenched her head back and was delighted to see a small rill of blood trailing down her rival’s chin. “Got some red on you too, pretty bird. Here, let me.”
Dare tugged the penitent battler’s features against her knee and pullllllled Lenore’s face up the length of her thigh. She swung her hips when Lemarchand’s face was almost level with her waist, the miniature butt smash knocking the bloodied battler onto her side in ragged heap. Deliberately turning her back on the American wreckage, Olivia slowly ‘flicked’ the edges of her bottoms back into place before raising both hands with index fingers lifted in a jaunty ‘V’.
“She’s good,” Dare conceded to those within the sound of her voice, “she might even be great… someday. But she’s not great tonight. If I’m not careful she might NEVER be great.”
Behind her, Lenore pushed up on her hip and dabbed at the blood on her chin. A quick inspection told her it was coming from a small cut on the inside of her bottom lip. It was painful but shallow and had already stopped bleeding. The Raven figured it’d stay that way as long as she could keep the Englishwoman from popping her in the mouth.
That thought was fresh in her mind when Olivia wheeled around from the other side of the ring and chirped, “Enough whimpering for now, pretty bird. Stand up and face me or roll under the bottom rope and slink away until Summer Swelter.”
Lemarchand looked up, her dark eyes hard and cold. Regaining her feet with nary a groan, she ran her tongue over the red, then asked, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you ‘Liv? Get yourself a big win without having to do any real work. I thought it was working for Portia that made someone a spineless coward. Apparently being her bytch has the same effect.”
Dare gave her a smile that didn’t reach the blonde’s eyes. “That might actually offend me if it wasn’t coming from Emily West’s personal valet. I admit, you ride coattails better than most, Lenore.”
Lenore’s jaw clenched and Olivia’s smirk got a little wider. “Emily showed me the way. I made my own path.”
“And it led you to a prolonged, systematic career suicide at my hands.” Olivia countered. “Perhaps you should’ve let Emily do a little more guiding, little girl.”
West’s Lady in Waiting took a threatening step forward. “I didn’t need her guidance to make you squeal like a pig.”
Now it was Dare who stepped forward, her smirk long gone. “Perhaps not. But you will need her considerable genius to extricate your pointy little nose from my arse. I promise ya that much, luvVVVVNNNNNGGGGHHHH!”
Lemarchand came on fast and went low, the limber brunette slamming a shoulder into Olivia’s bare tummy. Driving forward rather than down, the Raven bulled her adversary across the squared circle and would’ve sent them both tumbling through the ropes if the cagey Briton hadn’t looped an arm around her head. Bearing down in an impromptu Front Facelock, Olivia pulled up on Lemarchand’s neck and swung her in a stumbling half circle. Lenore hit the strands broadside and fell through to the apron, the Courtier spared a nasty fall because she managed to hook an arm over the second rope.
“Dangerous place for a pretty bird.” Dare said with mock concern. “All sorts of terrible things might happen.”
One such terrible thing proved to be the Kneelift the former World Champion drove into her opponent’s chest. Grunting raggedly, Lenore maintained her hold on the rope but also balled her other hand into a fist and pounded it into Dare’s side at least half a dozen times. More annoyed than anything else, Olivia answered with a few more Kneelifts, then dropped into a tense crouch to pull the brunette’s throat across the rubber-coated steel.
Lenore started to thrash the instant her windpipe was compressed. She also let loose of the rope to double down on punching the Englishwoman’s ribs, but the angle was such that she was forced to flail and bear it until Nick Castle strode over and ordered, “Get her neck off the ropes, Olivia. Now.”
Dare nodded and stood up, allowing the brunette to breathe again. What she did not do was release the Front Facelock, at least not until she’d pounded a final hard Kneelift into Lemarchand’s sternum. Knowing full well that the official was heartbeats away from telling her to bring it back in the ring, Olivia reached over the ropes, grabbed a double handful of hair and forced the Fair & Radiant Maiden to stand. “Mr. Castle will soon be quite adamant about my returning you to this ring.” Olivia murmured, her forehead almost touching Lemarchand’s. “I will hear and I will comply. But not before teaching you the proper respect for this great battlefield of ours.”
Whatever else this lesson might entail, it started with the Oncoming Storm pulling her rival’s head down so that the top rope was wedged tight against the bottom of her nose and upper lip. Halving the hair-hold so she could reach under the rope to better cup the back of Lenore’s head, Dare laced her fingers tight and dropped to one knee.
It didn’t look like much until Lemarchand started to keen. And why shouldn’t she? Olivia was pulling down with every bit of her hundred and twenty pounds in a simple, sadistic effort to mangle the other woman’s face. Taken aback by what struck him as an uncharacteristically brutal tactic from the technician, Castle didn’t shake off his surprise until the Blackbird started jerking the American’s head back ‘n forth across the rubber-coated steel. “All right ‘Liv, that’s enough!” he barked. “Let’er go before you tear her damned nose off!”
Olivia smiled prettily and kept right on pulling. “Could you speak up, friend? There’s the most horrible wailing in my ear. Seems like two alley cats are having a tryst.”
Not about to play games with a potentially disfiguring tactic, the senior official raised an index finger and started to count, “ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!”
Dare released her grip and stood up, hands held innocently above her head. “I trust you’re satisfied, Mr. Castle?”
Nick gave her a watchful, wary look. “Keep off her face, Olivia. You’re better than that.”
“Correction, I’m better than her.” Crowding the ropes again, the Oncoming Storm snatched Lenore by the nape of the neck and jerked her upright. “Dear lord girl, you look terrible. Take a moment to make yourself respecta--strike that. Make yourself presentable.”
Lenore’s situation didn’t improve when the blonde put a hand against her stinging nose and pushed hard. Eyes watering after the wince-inducing Pie Face, Lenore swung at her tormentor but Dare saw it coming from miles out and swatted it aside. Taking the brunette’s understandable reaction as a sign of aggression, Olivia sprang up and planted her left foot on the middle rope. The right came up n’ around immediately thereafter, that shiny black boot THWHACKING off the side of Lenore’s skull. Lemarchand reeled back in the wake of the Enzugiri but damned if she didn’t maintain that death grip on the top rope and thus keep herself from plummeting to the floor.
Irritated by the Raven’s tenacity, Olivia stood up and tucked some loose hair behind her ears. “Just bloody fall already.” she muttered.
“Just step aside already.” Lenore huffed without even making eye contact.
Dare froze in her tracks. She’d suspected Lemarchand’s goal from the very beginning, but to have it stated so plainly made her see red. “You aren’t woman enough to make me step aside, pretty bird.” the blonde spat. “I am however, more than happy to step ON your delicate little throat.”
Whirling on her heel, Dare charged across the ring, bounced into the strands and raced back the way she’d came. Olivia picked up speed until the moment when she doubled forward and launched herself between middle and top rope for a SpeaNOOOOO!
Lenore twisted aside at the last moment, leaving Dare hung up on her tummy half in and half out of the ring. Positioned on the Englishwoman’s left, Lemarchand snatched hold of her wrist and jerked it out and away, thus exposing Olivia’s torso. Then she reared back, stepped in and THWHAPPED her opponent’s midsection with a Soccer Kick that’d make her mentor proud.
“Get your skinny ass out here,” Lenore growled as soon as she’d secured her foe’s noggin in a Front Facelock. Tugging Dare onto the narrow ledge on the other side of the ropes, the brunette jabbed her left knee into the Storm’s midsection once, twice, three times before angling to one side and simply dropping from the apron to the floor. Yanked along for the ride, Olivia THUNKED into the thinly-sheathed plywood headfirst and froze in a momentary headstand before settling out on her tummy.
APRON DDT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=UpEGzxjvfIc
Feeling much more in control of the situation now that her foe was facedown and mewling, Lenore smoothed back her hair and ‘snapped’ her stylish new bottoms back into place, much to the approval of the front row fans. “Oh, you liked that, did you?” she asked, casting a glance over one shoulder. “Then I bet you’ll love this.” Lemarchand stomped across the narrow aisle, grabbed Olivia by trunks and tresses and slid her down the apron as quick as her legs could carry her. She didn’t break any land-speed records, granted, but Dare certainly didn’t enjoy the ride, nor the sudden stop at the end when her left shoulder BWUNKED against the base of the steel ring-post.
The Englishwoman groaned and started to roll back in the ring but Lenore bore down and yanked her from that precarious perch to THWHUMP to the floor on her face, chest and belly. “So you’re going to step on my throat, are you ‘Liv?” Lenore asked the groaning wrestler. “That could prove difficult to pull off while you’re kissing my feet.”
Dare put her hands to the blue mat and pushed off her tummy. “Sod off, Lenore.” she grunted. “You’re the only one paying tribute toniEEERGGGGHH!”
The Black Courtier reached down for a handful of hair and pulled Olivia up a little farther without letting her get off all fours. Then she put her right knee against the base of opposing neck and dropped down, thus THUMPING Dare’s noggin with a sawed-off Facebuster of sorts.
“Get her back in the ring, Lenore!” Castle demanded when the Fair & Radiant Maiden grabbed her rival by the scruff of the neck. “I’ve been lenient enough stalling the count as it is!”
Lenore looked at him, then dropped Olivia’s noggin with all the regard one might show a piece of rotted fruit. Without getting off her knee, the brunette replied, “If you want me in the ring you’re going to have to count, Nick. Until then I’m going to show this arrogant piece of crap just why I am so goddamned dangerous out here on the floor.”
Knowing that it’d be pointless to do anything other than as she’d suggested, Nick crowded the ropes and started tolling off numbers. Lenore’s pace had been methodical before, almost languid. Now that she was on a clock the Raven wasted no time whatsoever in scraping her opponent off the floor. Soon as Dare was on her feet she hooked one arm over her shoulder and worked the other between her legs. A quick twist of the hips scooped Olivia up over one shoulder and an equally speedy toss sent her back to the mat courtesy a THWHUMPING Body Slam.
Olivia arched high on impact so Lenore spiked a heel into her navel to collapse the impromptu bridge. The ref’s count was barely past ‘FIVE!’ not that that meant Lemarchand took her sweet time in hopping onto the apron. Wheeling around to face the FAWNatics, she hooked her thumbs together and raised ‘the Raven’ high overhead. Hundreds rose to meet her so Lenore said thank you by leaping off the apron with her knees kicked up almost to chest level. Pistoning her feet down when gravity started to take over, Emily’s Lady in Waiting buried both heels in Olivia’s tummy with a Double Stomp that almost folded the lissome blonde in half.
DOUBLE STOMP FROM APRON:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=TFPccBcgctQ
Lemarchand hopped off like it t’weren’t no big thing, then circle around the Briton with hands on her hips to plot her next move. Castle’s count was just past ‘ELEVEN’ and while that was practically an eternity as far as she was concerned, Lenore decided it was time to get the action back in the ring. Nudging Dare onto her stomach purely because she could, Lenore helped herself to another greedy handful of hair and waistband, tugging up on both to get her foe moving and earn a little love from the crowd with the wedgie.
Marching Dare across the narrow space, she stuffed her up under the bottom rope and pushed her into the ring, but not too far, she needed the ropes for what came next. Back in the ring shortly thereafter, Lemarchand turned Olivia around so that she was facing ropes she’d just entered beneath. “I shouldn’t have said what I did earlier,” Lenore admitted as she maneuvered the blonde’s head and shoulders under the bottom strand. “I don’t want you to step aside, ‘Liv. That would be a huge blow to the bendy-back class. But you WILL acknowledge me as an equal, whether it be by choice… or force.”
“You’re not my equal,” Dare grumbled, her voice roughened by the abuse on the floor. “You’re very good. I am the best. There’s a world of difference between the HEY! What are you doing? Get your hands off meNNNGGHH!”
Lenore climbed into a seat on the small of her rival’s back, reached over the bottom rope and seized the Briton’s elbows. Tugging them back and up, she laid them over the rubber-coated steel in what would’ve made for a pretty nasty Camel Clutch if she’d been of the mind. But Lenore had something different in store for the Blackbird. With Olivia’s arms appropriately neutralized and Castle holding his tongue because she hadn’t inflicted any actual punishment yet, the Raven slid south out of her mount and took hold of the other woman’s ankles. Stuffing Dare’s left ankle into the pit of her right knee, Lenore folded the blonde’s right stem up, then reached through the center of the ‘4’ with her left hand to better clasp Olivia’s right ankle in both hands. Knot secured, Lenore stood up (which lifted her prey off the mat in the process) and pushed Dare’s legs forward, thus putting intense pressure on her lower spine with the Inverted Cloverleaf.
INVERTED CLOVERLEAF (sans rope assist)
www.youtube.com/watch?v=mdNfMwko59M
The crowd ‘oooohhhed’ appreciatively and even though they knew the Oncoming Storm would be free sooner than later, it didn’t stop them from chanting ‘PLEASE DON’T TAP!’ at the top of their lungs. Olivia damned sure wasn’t going to tap, but she was equally glad that Lemarchand hadn’t unleashed this on her during a Pure Rules or even worse, a No DQ match. Shaking her head ‘no, no, no!’ as her tummy got higher and higher and her feet got closer and closer to the back of her head, Olivia held in a groan and hoped Castle’s count was on the way.
Grimfaced as she tried to mold Dare into a perfect circle, Lemarchand leaaaaaaaaaaned in and growled, “Go on and scream, ‘Liv. There’s no shame in screaming when you’re being bent by the best.”
The hell of it was, Olivia DID feel like screaming, but she wasn’t about to make that sort of concession to this wannabe usurper. So she clenched her jaw, lowered her head and held it in as Castle started to bark at the Courtier. “That’s enough, Lenore! Let go of her right now!”
Lemarchand nodded her understanding. “Sure. Just as soon as you count, Nick.” So Castle did and Lenore let go as promised, she even cleared off with her hands raised, just to prove how cooperative she could be.
Free of that insidious Cloverleaf, the Blackbird wriggled her arms loose of the rope, then twisted sideways and hooked an arm around it again just to keep her anchored in place. A breather on the floor probably would’ve been wiser, but Dare couldn’t bring herself to cede the ring to the Raven. Alas the choice was taken from her when Lemarchand strode over and shoved a foot into her ribs. Olivia groaned, held on a little tighter, but Lenore grabbed the top rope for extra leverage and stomped away until the blonde was forced under the bottom rope to the floor below.
Leaned up against the strands, Lenore wiped hair away from her face and promised, “You can come back inside when you’re ready to admit who you’re dealing with. Not a second before, ‘Liv.”
Dare landed on her feet, though she did lean heavily against the apron to keep upright in the wake of this most recent pasting. Gripping the bottom rope for a little extra support, she mopped a forearm across her brow before looking to the American. “I’m sorry, I could swear you said I needed your permission to reenter the ring.”
Lenore stayed close to the ropes, but not so close the blonde could lunge under and grab an ankle. “Permission is such an authoritarian word.” she said with a faint smile. “Let’s call it… my blessing.”
The softened language did nothing to soothe Olivia’s chagrin. “There seems to be a fundamental error in our communications, ‘luv.” she raised her hand to the middle rope and planted a knee on the apron. “You see, I am a former Lightweight Champion. I am a former World Champion, not only that, I am the LONGEST reigning World Champion in the history of this erstwhile promotion, so if there’s anyone here who needs to seek permission to enter this ring…” The Daredevil sprang onto the narrow ledge and regarded her opponent with narrowed, glittering eyes. “It’s the insolent little CHAV who thinks she’s good enough to hang with--”
Lemarchand flicked out a hand that turned Olivia’s cheek and reddened it in a single stroke. Swinging her head back around after a moment’s reflection, Olivia murmured, “You’re going to hurt for that, Lenore. I promNNNGGGHH!”
Insolent or not, the Raven meant every bit of her own promise and proved it by leaving her feet in a gorgeous vertical leap. The aforementioned feet were promptly stuffed into Dare’s chin via a Dropkick that sent the former World Champion tumbling to the floor. Olivia returned to the earth in a drunken stagger though it should be noted she never truly went down, not even when she banged into the guardrail and held it like a lifeline.
Momentarily stunned by the breadth and scope of her own fury, the Englishwoman came back to herself when she realized the crowd was offering up either a cheer, a warning or both. Eyes up, she saw Lemarchand hit the ropes on the opposite side en route to a quick bounce back the way she’d came. Instinct shrieked for defense while pride growled for attack. Considering her treatment in the last several minutes, it was an easy decision. Holding her ground until Lenore was almost to the ropes, Olivia stepped forward when the brunette dove between the top and middle ropes and stopped the Suicide Dive dead in its tracks by THWHACKING a European Uppercut into her foe’s chin.
SUICIDE D'OH!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=HWQ8RDgPdVY
Lenore’s head snapped up then slumped down, one forearm braced sluggishly against the apron while the other swaddled her aching skull. In no mood to let the brunette contemplate her maladies in peace, Olivia swatted that protecting arm away and helped herself to a huge handful of hair. “I was going to elbow several new dents in your pretty face.” she cooed after raising Lemarchand to the closest parody of upright that she could muster. “Then I realized, you don’t deserve to suffer my Forearm Smash. Those are for wrestlers. THESE are for you.”
The words were barely out of Dare’s mouth when her free hand whistled up and across to CRAAACK Lenore’s cheek with a Bytch Slap. The Brit’s pace was relatively methodical for the first three shots or so. After that the tempo picked up and she really put her shoulder into it, ‘Liv just cra-cra-cra-cra-cra-cra-CRAAAACKING away at every square inch of the Fair & Radiant Maiden’s once flawless features. Ending it only when her shoulder started to ache, Dare claimed ownership of Lemarchand’s right wrist, then stepped away and twisted it ’round in a remarkably superfluous Arm Wringer. Once that was secured she kicked up her left leg, stuffed that foot against the side of Lenore’s face and laid out on her back to jerk the Yank out of the ring and down into the biggest platter of Sole Food FAWN had ever seen.
Too woozy to do more than brace for (another) impact, Lemarchand flopped to one side after dining on Dare’s boot and hit the thin blue mats hard on her left shoulder and hip. Though she very much wanted to dole out more punishment on the spot, Olivia heard Castle’s count hit ’TEN!’ and knew she needed to head inside. Only for a moment however, she had not yet begun to show this pretender what sort of terrors waited outside the safe confines of the squared circle.
Struggling to her feet, she grabbed the bottom rope in both hands and pulled herself up under the bottom rope. Nick stepped back with a word of commendation that transformed into a muttered curse the instant she slid back to the floor. Lenore hadn’t done much moving when Olivia got back to her, which was just as it should’ve been. Even so, the blonde didn’t want to waste a single second so there was no preening or posing, simply a huge double fistful of hair to get the grounded grappler on her feet. “I know you consider yourself something of a specialist when it comes to No Disqualification matches.” Dare reared back on her toes and THWHUMPED the brunette’s noggin into the ring apron. “What is it that the fans have taken to calling you? Oh yes, Hardcore Lenore. Charming, if I may say so.”
Still holding Lemarchand’s hair, Olivia leaned down on the back of the American’s head, making it that much more painful when she started scrubbing Lenore’s forehead back and forth against the canvas-draped plywood! The Raven wailed and tried to squirm away. When that failed she gouged a few elbows into Olivia’s ribs but she was so weak from gorging on Sole Food that Dare shrugged them off and delivered a few retaliatory Kneelifts. Yanking Lemarchand up only when she was satisfied, the Oncoming Storm inspected that pink, abraded face and smiled broadly. “Oh yes, you could certainly pass for someone who’d last perhaps a week in the WOLF’s den. But do you sound like one?” Seeking answers to that and many other questions, Olivia loped down the side of the ring, stepped out of the way and tossed her burden into a BWUNKING forehead on ringpost collision.
Lemarchand wrapped an arm around it to stay standing but there was no mistaking the drunken sag in her knees. A quick check told Dare the ref was almost halfway through his count again. Rather than refresh it a second time she stepped around to the other side of the post and helped herself to the brunette’s wrists. Then she jerked Lenore into it chest-first, raised her right foot and braced it against the unyielding steel. Leaning back to the limits of balance, Olivia jostled her prey’s wrists and demanded, “Kiss the steel, Lenore! Better yet, worship it! Go on you yammering little girl, you’ve got so much respect for this ring and what we do in it? Then pucker up and show it the adulation it truly deserves you unworthy twat!”
Lenore didn’t kiss the ringpost, in fact she’d twisted her head to the side so that it slid painfully against her jaw and temple. While it might not have been exactly what Dare wanted, this arrangement allowed her shrieks to wash over the first several rows and that was an adequate trade as far as the blonde was concerned. Keeping at it until Nick hit ’SIXTEEN!’ Olivia cast those struggling wrists aside and dove under the bottom rope.
“Bring it back in the ring, ’Liv.” Castle ordered before she could roll away again. “If you’d wanted a Hardcore Match you should have asked for one.”
Posted on one knee, Olivia told him, “That woman desperately needs a lesson in respect, Nick. I’ll return her to the ring as soon as I feel she’s made adequate progress in that regard.” Then she dipped out a second time, leaving the senior official to start the count all over again. “You’re looking a bit the worse for wear, Lenore.” Olivia noted once she’d rejoined the fray. “I do believe your legs could give out at any time. Perhaps you’d benefit from a short rest.”
Snatching the American by the nape of her neck, Dare peeled her away from the post and slung her right arm around Lenore’s shoulders like they were old friends instead of two women who’d spent the better part of six months trying to beat one another into rubble. “Legs still feeling shaky, ’luv?” Olivia cooed into her rival’s ear. “I believe this will help.” The Oncoming Storm must’ve had a very unique idea of what constituted help, because she twined her right leg around Lemarchand’s left, leaned forward until they were both almost doubled over, then snapped up and back to BWANG the Courtier spine-first into the barricade with a Side Russian Leg Sweep.
RUSSIAN LEG SWEEP AGAINST BARRICADE @ 1:02
www.youtube.com/watch?v=SmB3DEnP6Q8
The maneuver wasn’t entirely without consequence for the Englishwoman as the guardrail struck her across the shoulders quite smartly, but the site of Lenore dropping to her knees in semi-paralyzed agony more than made up for it. “Hmmmmmh, sitting down didn’t seem to prove the calmative I thought it might.” Dare told the Raven as she got back to her feet. “If sitting can’t get the job done, perhaps a nap will be better balm.”
In the ring, Nick Castle stepped onto the bottom rope and called, “Get it back in the ring, Olivia! I mean--”
“WHEN SHE HAS LEARNED!” Olivia practically screamed it, her fury causing the ref to stumble awkwardly from his perch. Regaining control of her emotions just like that, Dare swiped a hand through her own hair before plunging it into Lenore’s sweat-damp locks. “This woman demanded the best of me, Mr. Castle. I plan on giving it to her, even if she lives to regret it.”
That settled the issue for a moment (or at least tabled it while Castle resumed his count) so Olivia hauled Lemarchand upright and turned her around to face the audience. After she’d snagged a healthy handful of the brunette’s trunks, Dare turned her attention to the FAWNatics. “For those of you drinking good beer, I’d advise you to finish it now or get out of the way. If you’re downing the cheap swill, feel free to pour it on this one in case she needs reviving.”
The last word was still on her lips when she took a single giant step forward and pitched the Raven into about half a dozen laps. Beer was indeed spilled and most of it on Lenore, but not nearly as much as you might imagine and that was mostly because the fans were fearful of Black Court retaliation. Even so, Olivia enjoyed the sight of her foe bouncing off that small section of startled fandom before crumpling to the cement floor on her hands and knees.
The count was getting high again, so Dare looked over her shoulder and pointed at the official. “We are on our way back in, you have my word. So hold your tongue for ten more seconds, then you may harp on me to your heart’s content.”
Castle knew damned well he should count them both out. He also knew that Christian, DeCyr and Thomas himself would give him all sorts of grief for letting such a pivotal match in a draw. So he nodded and said, “Ten seconds, ’Liv. Starting now.”
Dare didn’t bother to thank him, she simply reached over the barrier, snatched hold of the American’s hair and scraped her off the floor. Preoccupied with the count she kept in her head, Olivia stayed quiet as she dipped said head and wedged it under Lemarchand’s left arm. Then she clamped down on the other woman’s wrists and bridged up, over and down to return Lenore to the field of play with a Double Wrist Clutch Northern Lights Suplex.
DOUBLE WRIST CLUTCH NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=LDLpwfv0T4o
THWAPPED flat against the barely-padded floor, Lemarchand arched her back and slopped to one side, a bit of resistance made possible because Dare didn’t bother to hold the bridge. Being free of a cover didn’t mean much for her long-term well being however, the Fair & Radiant Maiden had barely begun to assess the damage done when Olivia hauled her up by the roots and tossed her into the ring like so much refuse.
Supremely satisfied with the lesson delivered outside the ring, Dare hopped onto the apron and started through the ropes only to pull back for a look at the crowd. “Would it be too much to ask for a ‘She’s hardcore’ chant?” Apparently it was no trouble at all because the Stormchasers broke it out at once. The rest of the crowd joined in quickly and the whole place rang with ‘SHE’S HARDCORE!’ as the former FAWN World Champion returned to the lesson at hand.
With her brawling bona fides well established, Dare shifted back to technician mode the instant she grabbed the top rope in both hands. Leaning back in a tense crouch, she vaulted onto the rubber-coated steel, flew off and kicked both legs out straight. Only the right THWHUMPED across Lenore’s chest but that was more than enough to jolt the Raven like she’d been touched with a live wire. Spinning to one knee in the aftermath, Dare stretched out atop the brunette’s chest and hooked the far leg for…
SPRINGBOARD LEG DROP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=kgMFen5rric
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
Lemarchand shot an arm up with a half second separating her from defeat. Olivia put her hands on her knees and took a deep breath. “That’s my fault. I should’ve known you couldn’t be convinced to stay down. Therefore I’ll have to force it upon you.”
Setting to this task with a smile on her face and a song in her heart, Dare got to her feet, circled around to the brunette’s ankles and took possession of the left. “Free bit of advice, pretty bird.” Olivia said when she hauled Lenore’s leg off the mat. “If you’re going to fold a girl in half, make sure she’s not already in the ropes.” She illustrated the useful nature of this tip by draaaaaaaaagging the Raven into the centre of the ring, well away from anything remotely resembling sanctuary.
With the stage appropriately set, Dare stretched her prey’s captured leg out full length, lowered her shoulders and draped it across her shoulders in preparation for “NNNGGGGHHH!” Lenore reared back on her shoulders as best she could and jabbed her right foot into Olivia’s hip. Dare shuddered a bit but didn’t abandon her bid for the Oli-Viaticum, so Lenore kept on kicking, first at her ribs, then a couple between her shoulders and finally one off the side of the Brit’s head.
Finally dissuaded from her current plan, Olivia staggered back and collapsed into the ropes to better rub out the heel-induced aches. “Fighting against the inevitable now, pretty bird.” Dare called to the recovering brunette. “I broke you on the outside. If you make me break you between the ropes there won’t be enough left to put you back together.”
Lenore had pushed to one knee following her escape, now she looked to the other bendy-back and smiled. “Since when does the Oncoming Storm resort to threats?”
Olivia pulled herself out of the strands and stood up straight. “Not a threat, ‘luv. That’s a promise.”
Lemarchand got to her feet as well. “If that were true I’d be on my belly with one foot getting closer and closer to the back of my head. “I think you’re gassing out and you don’t want anyone to kn--”
Dare came on as sudden as her namesake, the lissom battler crossing the canvas in a blur to whip her right leg up in a Yakuza Kick that whistled through the space occupied by Lemarchand’s head a half second prior. Whirling around the instant she caught her balance, Olivia stepped in and twisted her hips, that wiry right arm already coming across for a European Upper--
Lenore blocked it with the ‘X’ of her crossed forearms, then snatched hold of her blonde’s wrist and jerked her into a short Shoulder block. Olivia staggered but didn’t go far, making it easy for the Raven to reel her into another pair of jolting Shoulder blocks. These she followed with a Forearm Smash to the mug and a tart Arm Ringer that had Dare slapping at her shoulder. At least she would’ve slapped at her shoulder if Lemarchand hadn’t planted her right foot against the side of the former champ’s face and laid out on her back.
The ‘OOOOOHHHHHH!’ of the crowd almost overwhelmed the THWHUMP of Olivia landing on her back. Gimmick infringement was one thing. Force feeding Dare some Sole Food of her own? That was something else all together. Slow to rise after her desperation counter, Lenore nevertheless made it to one knee before her adversary, who was still clutching her aching mug with both hands. Working her fingers into Olivia’s battle-damp hair, Lemarchand rose to her full height and tugged on the reins a bit.
“C’mon ‘Liv. We’re not quite done YETTEERRRRGGGHHHH FAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHK!”
Properly enraged by the misappropriation of one of her favourite manoeuvres, the former World Champion threw decorum to the wolves and ‘shumped’ her right hand between the Raven’s thighs. Lenore’s knees buckled almost at once, but she kept her hair-hold in place and made Olivia pay for her affront with some truly savage yanking. “Let go right now, bytch.” the Raven demanded through clenched teeth. “Or I’ll scalp you better than Bloodwind ever coulDDEERRRRHHHHHH BYTCH!”
Dare bore down all the harder, attacking her rival’s undercarriage with a ferocity previously reserved for Dream and VanBuren. “Release my hair and perhaps I’ll consider it,” the blonde rasped, her tone as ragged and unpleasant as the American’s. “Otherwise I’ll grit my teeth and find out how deep this filthy trench actually ruNSSSSSAAAAAAHH LEGGO RIGHT THIS INSTANT YOU BLOODY TROLLOP!”
Quickly realizing that her current grip couldn’t match the Crotch Claw, Lemarchand relinquished Olivia’s tresses only to immediately clamp down on the clearly-limned outlines of her nipples. Twisting for all she was worth, Lenore added a jostling pull to her torment and hissed, “You’re the one who’ll bleed if you don’t get out of my trunks right NOOOOWWWW SHHHHIIIIIT!”
Unable to muster any real attack without releasing her talon, Olivia curled her free hand into a similarly wicked weapon and raaaaaaaaked it across the Courtier’s eyes. This brought a warning from the official which Dare ignored entirely; she was far too busy salting away her prey for the night. Slowly rising with the Crotch Claw still in place, Dare finally let loose when Lenore made it to boot leather as well. Snatching the brunette’s left ankle with no real trouble, Olivia lifted the limb to hip level, then twisted around and dipped under it so the pit of Lemarchand’s knee was snugged against the nape of her neck. Then she stood up and caught Lenore’s noggin in a Front Facelock, thus completing the preparations for her deadly Quatermass Buster.
Bolstered by the roars of her fans, Olivia let loose with a roar of her own as she gathered her reserves and hoisted the Fair & Radiant Maiden off her “AAAARRRGGHHHH AAAAAAAAAHHHH YOU VILE SLUT!”
Dare’s meticulously applied hooks dropped away like magic the instant Lenore reached out with her unencumbered right hand and snatched hold of the Briton’s waistband. A single strong tug pulled the material deep into clefts both fore and aft and understandably rendered all other concerns secondary.
Dropped on one knee in front of the wincing blonde, Lenore plucked Olivia’s left hand away from her stinging groin and forced herself to stand. Rather than go for an Irish Whip she backed off as far as she could without breaking the Wristlock, then charged and dropped into a Baseball Slide that took her between Dare’s parted stems. She popped up on the other side and used the newly forged Pumphandle to spin Olivia around into a Standing Headscissors. In the span between heartbeats she reached down with her other hand, seized the Briton’s right wrist and yanked it back through her gams to double down on the Pumphandle.
Oblivious to the burgeoning roar rumbling in the FAWNatics, Emily’s Lady in Waiting bent her knees and jerked up so hard that Dare somersaulted off her feet and *almost* onto the brunette’s shoulders for what might’ve been a Powerbomb in less clever hands. Jerking on the ‘X’ of Olivia’s wrists as she took a giant step backward, Lenore pushed onto her toes and sat out full force. Dare turned her head to one side as the canvas rushed up to meet her, the only precaution she could manage in the instant before she THWHAMMED into the thinly-sheathed plywood.
NEVERMORE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=6nQ8LdfBoNs
The Nevermore bounced Olivia over and up to a boneless seat that she vacated just as soon as the Raven pushed her onto her back. Though she usually followed the hellacious face plant with her signature Schoolgirl cover and salute, Lenore had grown wary ever since Maggie Connor kicked out of it a year or more back. So to guard against it she pounced on the Storm tummy to tummy and hooked her across the calves in a Double Leg Grapevine. No lazy, casual cover this however. Having also snatched Olivia’s wrists, Lenore slammed them against the canvas, mashed her chest into the Englishwoman’s face and bore down with every bit of strength that remained. She knew Olivia wasn’t unconscious, she could feel the squirming blonde raging against her sternum while Castle counted…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
Olivia wrenched a hand loose and clouted Lenore under the chin, but the brunette barely felt it. She was already up and bellowing with triumph when the Announcer noted, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via pin-fall… LENORE LEMARCHAND! She now leads the series two falls to one.”
“She now leads the series two falls to one,” Lenore repeated in a near whisper. “Goddamned right she does.”
Nick came over to stand beside her. “Hard fought win, Lenore. Think that’s the best work I’ve ever seen from you. Congratulations.” The ref took her by the wrist and raised it to the rafters.
There were plenty of boos from the Stormchasers and Court Haters of course, but they seemed quieter than usual and Lemarchand wondered if she’d earned herself a few more Twitter followers with this performance. That was certainly worth checking out and she would do so before bed, for now though, there was something more pressing at hand. Mopping a forearm across her brow, the Raven turned around and saw Olivia rise thanks to an assist from Castle. The two exchanged a few murmured words before Dare patted him on the shoulder and headed for the ropes with her head down.
“Hey.” Lenore called after her. “We’re not done yet, Olivia.”
The Oncoming Storm stopped, looked around and regarded Lemarchand with a look she didn’t much like. “Far as I’m concerned we’re finished until Summer Swelter.”
“And that’ll be true. Just as soon as we shake hands.” Lenore extended her hand and was more than a little rankled when Olivia swiped at it with one foot.
“I have no intention of shaking your hand after the way you yanked my trunks up inside me to win that damned match. But I will happily loosen some teeth if so much as twitch.”
Anger took control of the Raven’s mouth before sense could provide a filter. “You’re giving me shyt over a two second wedgie when you should’ve been paying rent on that fahking Crotch Claw? Get over yourself, ‘Liv. I beat you fair and square. So shake my hand and we’ll go our separate ways until June.”
“I shook your hand before because I thought that maybe, just maybe you were being honest about not knowing anything about Susan’s plan for Eliza. But any chav who steals moves and pulls tights doesn’t deserve the benefit of a doubt.”
Lenore’s hands clenched into fists. “I told you I didn’t know anything about that. I gave you my word. What more do you want, an honor--”
“Your word is shyt and your honor is non-existent. I want neither, Lenore.” Olivia said it quietly, but it thundered in Lemarchand’s ears regardless.
After a long, slow exhalation, the brunette replied, “I’ve beaten you in two straight falls, Olivia. That might not mean anything to you, but it’s the biggest accomplishment of my career thus far and I mean to have a souvenir of my victory. I wanted your hand… denied that, I’ll settle for your top.”
Olivia’s gaze had drifted from the American, now it shot back as if magnetized. “There are some things you don’t come back from, pretty bird. This is one of them. Don’t ever make that threat against me again, understand?”
Lenore stuck out her hand one more time. “Shake my hand and I won’t. It’s that simple, ‘Liv.”
Dare sighed, thought about it for a moment, then reached for the Courtier’s ha--CRAAACK! She belted Lemarchand across the mouth with a Bytch Slap that reopened the wound on the brunette’s lower lip. “You disgust me, Lenore. It’s as simple as that.”
Olivia went to turn and Lenore pounced on her in a fury, the aggrieved Raven taking her rage out on the blonde’s hair by the double fistful. Feeling far from peaceable herself, Dare returned the favour and immediately thereafter the arena was filled with a cacophony of screams as that pair of world-class grapplers forgot everything they knew about technique in favour of hate-fuelled savagery.
Barely aware of the tears welling at the corners of her eyes, Lemarchand ploughed her opponent into the strands, then let out a serpentine hiss when Olivia torqued her hips to send them barrelling along the edge. She hit the buckles with a low grunt that got considerably louder as soon as Dare chested up on her like she meant to crush the brunette between her abs and the unyielding steel. Wrenching Lemarchand’s head back at an ugly angle, Olivia leaned and bared her teeth in an unconscious imitation of Adelaide Brewster. “You’ve proven an adequate wrestler, pretty bird. I won’t argue that.” the Briton panted. “But standing alongside me is about more than holds and counter-holds. It’s about how you handle yourself against an opponent who means to humble you compleNNNGGHH!”
Lenore repaid an offense from earlier in the battle by THWHUMPING her left knee against the other woman’s crotch. Olivia shuddered, tried to hold on and found herself spun into the buckles Lemarchand so recently occupied. Pressed in nose to nose with the Storm, Lenore wedged a forearm against the hollow of Dare’s throat and grrrrround it back n’ forth.
“I gave you EVERY opportunity to do this clean.” she said through clenched teeth. “I offered my hand and you spat in my face. So, you really wanted to face the woman that broke Cynthia Mitchell, the woman that owns Ivy Armstrong’s denim, the woman that shredded Roxanne McCrimmon’s self confidence? Is that who you wanted to fight, Olivia? Congratulations, bytch. You got her.”
Another shot to the blonde’s groin kept her nice and pliant while Lenore seized her shoulder-straps and peeled the top up and away, much to the delight and consternation of a conflicted crowd.
Choked with hatred as soon as the cool air hit her bare chest, Olivia shoved free of the corner and swiped for her stolen attire but Lenore flitted through the ropes to the floor as nimbly as her namesake. One arm angled snugly across her modest assets, Dare looked down on the Courtier and promised, “Give it back right now, Lenore. Do that and I won’t destroy your career in June.”
Lenore shook her head ‘no’. “Too late for compromise, Olivia. I wanted an exhibition and you gave me a fire fight. So now it’s war. And this…” she held up Dare’s top on one crooked finger. “Is the first casualty. Quoth the Raven, you skinny bytch.”
With that she tucked the stolen togs in against one hip, whirled around and stalked up the aisle, leaving a paralyzed, murder-eyed Olivia Dare to start counting the days until their penultimate encounter began.