Post by dsb on Dec 31, 2017 18:27:35 GMT
”Ladies and gentlemen, our next match is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from San Antonio, Texas and coming in at five foot six and one hundred thirty pounds, she is the Girl of Tomorrow… Camille Cosworth!”
The throbbing of an electric cello filled the FAWN Arena, and just as the FAWNatics got to their feet to roar, Camille Cosworth brushed the curtains aside with one sweep of her arm and stepped onto center stage atop the entrance ramp, dressed in a matching blue-and-green set of sports bra, trunks, and a pair of low-cut wrestling shoes.
CAMILLE COSWORTH
Another month meant another pay-per-view appearance for the Girl of Tomorrow as her star continued to rise. Despite the brevity of her career, Camille had already accrued a highlight reel a mile long and a legion of fans that seemed to grow ever larger as Tomorrow-Morrow Land expanded its borders to take in not only the usual dual citizens from Park Place, but also disenfranchised Jacobites, ex-Kylie Corpsmen, and refugees from Domi-Nation. All of them lent their voices to the cacophony of cheers as the music built to a crescendo, and then they abruptly went quiet when the lights and the sound cut out.
It’s only for a second, however, as a pyrotechnic ball of flame erupted from the stage where Cosworth was last seen standing, accompanied by the roar of the crowd and the music returning at twice the volume. Cannons lining the entrance ramp went off in rapid succession, giving the appearance of a massive fireball streaking towards the ring. It all culminated in one final discharge of fireworks from each of the four ring posts, lighting up the squared circle and revealing Camille standing in the center of the canvas, just arm’s length away from the referee as if she had been warped through space and time. Merle quickly glanced over his charge from head to toe, confident that pigs would fly before Cosworth brought illegal weapons to the ring.
Once that cursory check was complete, the Girl of Tomorrow claimed a corner for herself then turned towards the hard camera to flash a wink and blow a kiss to her girlfriend who was spending an extended holiday with the rest of the Cosworth clan in San Antonio. Camille would’ve been there herself had it not been for a longstanding promise to FAWN social media director Mel Sutton that she would be available for an interview before the end of the year. Much to her consternation and regret, however, she had not been home to prevent her mother from sharing her embarrassing childhood photos with Yoona, and Yoona was now posting them publicly on Instagram.
“Puberty was very kind to you,” Merle snickered as he produced his phone and displayed a picture of a gawky eleven year old Camille wearing one of the very first Kylie Sanders t-shirts ever made while she inadvertently showed off her orthodontic braces through a wide, beaming smile. “Also, you were WAY too young to be watching --”
Cosworth rolled her eyes and interrupted with a light-hearted scoff, “Careful, Merle. Offend me now and I’ll make you a Gungan in my FAWN / Star Wars crossover fanfiction.”
“You -- You wouldn’t…” the man muttered as he visibly blanched.
“Mesa Merle! Mesa your humble referee! Yousa follow me commands at all times, okeeday?”
The referee was just about to plead for clemency when he was interrupted by the ring announcer introducing Camille’s opponent for the evening.
“And introducing her opponent, hailing from…” the man in the tux trailed off, dipped his head and cupped a finger to one ear, apparently listening quite intently. After a moment he nodded, straightened up and raised his mic. “My apologies ladies and gentlemen, I’ve just been informed that Cassie Hopkins has been in an altercation backstage and is currently being examined by the FAWN medical staff.” This brought a round of boos from the crowd and a frown from Cosworth, she certainly didn’t want to win by forfeit. The Announcer understood their disappointment and raised a placating hand.
“However, Bethany Christian has secured a replacement on short notice and she’s on the way to the ring now.”
The words were barely out of his mouth when the lights dimmed to almost nothing and the speakers came to life with a low sigh of guitars that gradually built to the opening of A Perfect Circle’s ‘Passive’. The capacity crowd buzzed in disbelief, then roared in astonishment as the curtain parted and one of FAWN’s worst nightmares strolled into view for the first time in more than two years.
PASSIVE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=oMe4kVNKvNk
CELIA BLASSENVILLE:
Almost as shaken as the audience, the Announcer called, “And introducing her opponent, hailing from New Cannan Louisiana, she stands at five feet nine inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and forty five pounds. She is the Crimson Cagliostro, the Puppet Master and the Eighth Deadly Sin. She is TEMPRESS… CELIA BLASSENVILLE!”
Pausing atop the ramp to better appreciate the terrified squeaks of her little white mice, the redheaded Destroyer scanned the arena from one end to the other, but apparently found nothing of interest until she honed in on the Girl of Tomorrow. Dark eyes narrowing slightly, Blassenville reached behind her back, pulled out a small white towel and made a show of wiping off her knuckles. Once they were cleaned to her satisfaction, she tossed it aside and headed down the aisle.
For her first pay-per-view appearance since the involuntary committal of a certain megalomaniacal Dream, the Temptress wore a gleaming black lycca one-piece with long ‘sleeves’ that were comprised of a pair of thin ebon bands that wound around her arms, ending just above the wrists. Her ensemble finished with matching kneepads and gleaming white wrestling boots, while her long copper-colored hair was pulled back into a tight braid that hung almost to the small of her back. Saddened to discover that no one in her immediate vicinity had resolved to take up either bathing or proper grammar, Celia forced herself to stifle a groan when she read a sign pleading:
TAKE ME TO TOMORROW-MORROW LAND, CAMILLE!
“You should pray she doesn’t,” Blassenville noted in passing. “By all accounts the gravity there is a fraction what it is here and the health care is highly suspect.”
The test subjects waving the sign didn’t look like they quite followed all of that, thus earning another disappointed sigh from the redhead as she reached the shadow of the squared circle.
Closing her eyes to better savor the silence that only happened before an experiment, Celia made her way up the steps, wiped her boots on the apron and dipped through the ropes. Quick to claim the center as her own, she turned in a circle that ended with her back to Cosworth. From there she cast a single glance over one shoulder, then headed to her corner to await the referee’s final instructions and inspection.
Across the ring, Camille was not pleased at all about the last minute opponent swap, and she couldn’t quite keep the disappointed frown off her face as she flatly muttered, “This sucks.”
“I concur,” Merle groaned. “You still good to go, Camille?”
“Well, I was gonna suggest we call the whole thing off and go sing Christmas carols, but we’re one short of a barbershop quartet so I guess we just gotta wrestle,” the brunette sighed.
More intrigued than intimidated by the tall redhead in the opposite corner, Cam began clapping as soon as the bell CLANGED, thus ensuing there was plenty of FAWNatic powered percussion as she strode to center ring. If Cosworth came forth with the expression of someone pondering over a new and interesting puzzle, Celia Blassenville wore that of a researcher noting the temperament of their guinea pig before the first injection. Easing out of the corner to slide along the ropes, the Temptress made no move to engage, though she did spin out of reach when Cosworth darted in showing a Single Leg Takedown.
“Ok, I gotta know,” Cam said once she’d drawn back to something resembling safe distance. “What made you slink out of the shadows now? You paying for Lisa’s latest round of thorazine by working a few matches?”
Blassenville came off the ropes, but stopped shy of stepping into the brunette’s reach.
“The Dream’s care is provided by a certain wealthy patron, the kind that refers to the Burlingame’s as ‘new money.’ No dear, Lisa’s much improved since last you saw her, indeed she’s so well off I can leave her in the care of the Sisters for times when I’m needed elsewhere. And having observed you for the last several months, I would say that--”
Celia’s tone was so soothing that Cosworth *almost* got caught when the Machiavellian Destroyer hopped forward and launched a Bicycle Kick straight at her opponent’s chin! Of course ‘almost’ against the Girl of Tomorrow might as well have meant missing by a mile, considering her almost preternatural reflexes. Dipping her head half a heartbeat before Blassenville’s boot would’ve inverted her chin, Cam ran the ropes on Celia’s six and vaulted onto the second strand just as her opponent whirled around. Launching herself backward without so much as a glance, Cosworth hooked an arm under Celia’s bicep and laid out on her side, meaning to sling her across the canvas with a Springboard Armdr--NO!
Blassenville locked her arm in place and dropped into a deep crouch, effectively freezing Cam in
place. Smiling faintly at the surprise on the younger woman’s face, Blassenville got a little lower, then stood up straight and jerked Cosworth back to boot leather.
Camille made the landing look as effortless as she always did, though this was greeted with much more alarm than usual because Celia promptly ‘smecked’ a hand around her throat! Quick to grab hold of the brunette’s waistband, Blassenville clamped down hard and muscled the Thrill Seeker high into the air for a ring-rattling Choke Sla-- relieved cheers from the capacity crowd when Camille laced her fingers into a Double Axehandle and brought it smashing down on Celia’s elbow. The goozle disintegrated, Cam dropped to the mat and drove a stiff Kneelift into the redhead’s midsection. The Temptress doubled over so Cosworth slapped on a Front Facelock and threw a signal to her legions before spinning her grasp into a Three Quarters Facelock and-- Blassenville put both hands to the small of her back and shoved hard enough to send Camille into the ropes for the second time in less than a minute.
The relatively short runway didn’t give Cosworth enough time to go airborne, so instead she returned at a full head of steam and launched herself into a Baseball Slide that went straight
through Blassenville’s planted --
“UUUGGGGHH!”
Ms. Cam’s wild ride came to an unpleasantly abrupt end when Celia reached down and wrapped both hands around the brunette’s throat! No ingenious escape this time, the redhead simply muscled her foe into the air and squeeeeeeeeeeeezed while Camille wriggled and fought for purchase.
Merle didn’t bother with a warning, he just swatted Blassenville on the shoulder, then started to count, “ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!”
Celia let Cosworth drop and took two big steps back, leaving the younger woman doubled over and gasping for breath but otherwise unharmed.
“As I was saying,” Celia was all cool, clinical detachment as she smoothed her hair back, “having observed you for the last several months, I’ve come to the conclusion that you’re one of the more interesting cases in FAWN… now that the Dream has been properly medicated, you understand.”
Locking eyes with the taller woman once her breathing returned to normal, Camille huffed, “Attention from a wannabe super villain? I’m flattered, didn’t think I could check that one off my bucket list so early. So what is it that got your attention? My stylin’ togs? My sweet, sweet theme music? My--”
“Utter lack of survival instinct?” Blassenville finished for her.
Cosworth snorted, clearly unimpressed with the mad doctor’s analysis.
“Fear is for mere mortals, doc. Do you want a second to write that down on your notepad or can we keep wrest--”
“Fear is what keeps people alive, Ms. Cosworth. It keeps us from touching a hot stove or wandering into traffic or daring a piece of gas station sushi. Fear is what allows us to grow and evolve as individuals. It is not to be shunned or scorned, but incorporated into our daily lives. Only by acknowledging fear can we hope to master it. You however --”
“Don’t need life hacks from a chick with her own set of Silent Hill nurses,” Cosworth snapped. “Now do you want to fight or do you have another monologue prepared?”
“Oh, is our resident parkour specialist feeling a bit cranky?” Celia chided. “Are you actually ready to wrestle or shall I step aside so you can bounce off some--”
Cam stormed in with a quick Haymaker, unfortunately Blassenville deflected it with her forearm at the last second. The Temptress followed with a viper-quick strike to the throat, the stiff-fingered jab making Cosworth stumble and gag. Celia caught another goozle before the brunette could turn away and strengthened her hooks by grabbing Camille under her left arm. Calm and cool as ever, the redhead stepped back and torqued her hips, a simple combination that sent Cosworth soaring through the air to THAWHAM down flat on her back!
BIEL TOSS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4JUfFvTqLj0
“You think this recklessness makes you brave. Noteworthy. Perhaps even heroic,” Celia noted as the Girl of Tomorrow rolled to one knee. “But you’re not fearless, Camille Cosworth. You’re oblivious. You have absolutely no idea of what might befall you with even the slightest misstep and I find that helplessly fascinating. Because sooner or later you WILL fall. And when you do, those cheers you whore yourself out for will transform into the most anemic of pity applause. I believe you’ll find it a poor substitute for--”
Cam popped up, raced at the redhead and left her feet in the blink of an eye. Twisting around in midair, she locked her legs around the taller woman’s hips and tucked in to swing her way through --
“CRAP!”
The attempted Victory Roll went awry when Blassenville cinched her arms around Cosworth’s waist and muscled her back to start. Pressed in tight against the high-flyer’s back, Celia traded the Waistlock for a Full Nelson one arm at a time. When it was complete she pressed down on the brunette’s neck and settled into a slight, bouncy crouch that sent shivers of pain through Camille’s legs and back.
HANGING FULL NELSON:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=uA8gKI4nQzQ
“Crap indeed, my adrenaline addicted friend,” Celia cooed in her foe’s ear. “Have you started second guessing your strategy yet? Hopefully not, I’d love to see how idiotically ‘brave’ you can be in pursuit of your drug of choice. Of course, the moment you start to second guess yourself, the very INSTANT you have to think about what you’re doing… that’s when this will get truly interesting.”
With that she bore down on the Nelson and bounced in place, earning a pained wail and a resolute ‘no!’ from Cosworth when the ref asked if she wanted to submit.
Camille twisted her hips back and forth in an effort to dislodge her shins from her captor’s thighs, but it was to no avail as she was hooked too deeply. Denied one avenue of escape, the Girl of Tomorrow tried another by lifting her arms straight up overhead. This time she hit pay dirt as she slipped out from underneath Celia’s Full Nelson, though the price of her freedom was an awkward looking faceplant onto the mat.
“Well done, my dear. Let’s see how -- OOOOF!”
Blassenville tried to advance on the prone Cosworth and immediately caught a stiff Mule Kick to the gut for her trouble. The blow sent the red-headed destroyer reeling backwards into the ropes, and when the doctor came rebounding back, Camille had already regained her feet. Showing off the eyes in the back of her head, Cosworth didn’t even turn to look before she reached over her right shoulder with both hands to grab Blassenville’s head in a Three Quarters Facelock. Whereas most wrestlers would have went for an Ace Crusher, the Girl of Tomorrow seemingly abhorred the mundane, so instead she opted for a Standing Shiranui Backstabber. Launching herself into a backflip with Celia’s neck as her axis of rotation, she curled her legs and planted her bony knees into the redhead’s spine before laying out on her back at the conclusion of her acrobatic maneuver.
STANDING SHIRANUI BACKSTABBER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rdd5nMO4qzE
The impact of the landing was transferred through Cosworth’s thighs and directly into Blassenville’s vertebrae, causing the Temptress to be launched off the brunette’s shins and knees. Miraculously, Celia remained standing as she staggered forwards, one hand pressed to her back and the other around her neck, and that made her the perfect victim for Camille’s follow-up attack.
Having already kipped to her feet before the FAWNatics could rise to theirs for an ovation, Cosworth surged forward and effortlessly leapt to a seat atop Blassenville’s shoulders. For just a moment, the Girl of Tomorrow was in the precarious Electric Chair position, but before Celia could capitalize, those alabaster thighs framing her head clamped shut and Camille launched into another backflip. This time Blassenville was pulled along for the ride, all one hundred and forty five pounds of destroyer-grade muscle ripped off the mat as if she were nothing more than a flyweight. Forcibly freed from the clutches of gravity, Celia flipped head over heels before landing on the crown of her skull, courtesy of an absolutely wicked Poisoned Frankensteiner.
POISONED FRANKENSTEINER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=WtvkROBN_mo
Blassenville remained upside down and vertical for a second like a lawn dart, then she timbered onto her belly. With her thighs still clamped around the good doctor’s head, Camille muscled the two of them onto their backs and she quickly scrambled over to hook a leg for the pin. The referee slid down to the mat next to the pair of wrestlers and counted out…
ONE!
TWO!
...and Celia shoved the brunette away, displaying plenty of strength despite the harsh landing just momentss ago. Indeed, Blassenville got to her feet just a fraction of a second after her opponent, though that fraction of a second was more than enough time for Camille to come barreling at her feet first, nothing more than a blur of green and blue as the Girl of Tomorrow twirled through the air for a Tornado Kick. The Temptress was quick for her size, however, and she shuffled her feet and backpedaled out of range, thus avoiding the sole of Cosworth’s shoe scraping against her face by a hair’s breadth.
The assault wasn’t over yet, as Camille landed lightly on her feet after the missed connection on the Tornado Kick. Showing some fancy striker’s footwork she had learned from Yoona, she nimbly stepped her way through another pirouette to build momentum and came out of the spin with her right leg raised and ready to deliver a Super Kick straight to Celia’s jaw.
As soon as she got eyes on her target, however, the Girl of Tomorrow aborted her kick halfway through. Blassenville was already leaning against the turnbuckles in the corner with a faint smile on her face, secure in her knowledge that Cosworth would not strike an opponent already in the ropes. Still holding her kicking leg aloft and chambered, Camille regarded the redhead with a slightly raised right eyebrow and a soft scoff, then she dusted off the top of her right shoe with one hand before she reset her stance and retreated to the opposite corner.
“Confident. Perhaps even… arrogant...” Celia calmly noted as she rubbed the remaining stiffness out of her lower back. “Then again, why shouldn’t you be? You’ve got it all. Speed, and power, and that je ne sais quoi connection with the fans. When you fly, they fly with you…”
“...but what happens when you fall?” finished a voice from the floor behind Cosworth.
DEBORAH HURT
KRISTIN MANNERS
The Girl of Tomorrow whirled around and spotted Deborah Hurt and Kristin Manners at ringside, the pair of nurses having apparently materialized out of the crowd during the last fracas. Each of them were holding a clipboard and scribbling away on a medical chart, and on closer examination, Camille saw that it was her name on those documents, a fact which put her very much ill at ease.
“Well, that’s just faaaaaaantastic,” Cosworth grumbled to herself before asking Blassenville, “Hey, aren’t these Creepy McCreepersons supposed to be keeping an eye on the Dream in case she chews her way out of her restraints or something?”
“I appreciate the concern, Ms. Cosworth. I assure you, Lisa is resting quite peacefully after her latest round of clozapine and electroconvulsive therapy,” Celia coolly answered. “You have much more pressing matters to worry about.”
On that ominous note, Celia stalked out of her corner in a beeline towards the Girl of Tomorrow. Knowing it’d be unwise to be caught with Blassenville in front of her and the Sisters of Mercy at her back, Camille sprang out of her corner as well. Not wanting to meet the larger wrestler head on and her failed Baseball Slide still fresh in her mind, Cosworth took a third option by leaping into the air and splaying her legs to sail over the charging Temptress.
The pair of wrestlers wound up back to back, but not for long as Blassenville pivoted about with her right arm locked and loaded for a decapitating Lariat. This time Camille ducked under by dropping to a seat on the mat and rolling backwards over her head and shoulders. She came out of her tumble kneeling right behind her opponent, then she slipped an arm between Celia’s thighs and hoisted the redhead onto her shoulder. Despite the weight of the other woman, Cosworth popped to a stand, spun in a tight circle, then shoved Blassenville off her shoulder while sitting out on the mat to slam the Temptress into the deck with a Blue Thunder Bomb.
BLUE THUNDER BOMB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=SuvVNblNPFg
Already in perfect position from her seat on the canvas, Camille leaned forward to press a hand against Celia’s chest for the pin. The FAWNatics counted along for…
ONE!
TWO!
THR--NO!
...before Blassenville bucked free, though not as forcefully as before.
Cosworth quickly scrambled to her feet, and seeing that her opponent was much slower to rise this time, she took position at the redhead’s side, turned her back, and threw herself into a high-arcing Standing Moonsault. The Girl of Tomorrow had pushed it too far, however, as Celia curled her legs to her chest before lashing out with a double boot to Camille’s ribs just at the peak of the flip.
FAIL-SAULT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=K2Rbzrg1ssM
Twenty thousand cheering fans suddenly turned into twenty thousand groaning fans as Cosworth was launched to the side of the ring where she laid in a motionless heap. The Sisters of Mercy quickly hustled over to that side of the ring to observe the waylaid brunette, and they continued to scribble down notes for later.
“...unnnnggghhh… it’s like sparring with Vale…” Camille groaned to herself while she remained down. “God, I hate sparring with Vale…”
Not too far away, the Crimson Cagliostro rolled to one knee and allowed herself a moment to collect her thoughts. After a single nod to her nurses, Blassenville rose to her full height, strode over to Camille and promptly drove a stomp between her shoulders.
“Was the landing perhaps a bit rougher than expected, Camille? Allow me to provide a proper distraction.”
Celia braced her left foot against the back of Cosworth’s neck, grabbed the top rope in both hands and hoisted her right foot off the mat, thus transferring every bit of her weight to the vulnerable Thrill Seeker. Already more than a little nervous about Cam’s condition following that ugly landing, Merle rushed over to the action and swatted Blassenville on the shoulder.
“Hey, get off her, Celia! You could do some serious damage like that!”
Celia treated him to a quizzical eyebrow, then dropped into a deep crouch, adding even more pressure to the scrabbling brunette’s neck.
“Have you ever paid serious attention to the way this particular young woman moves, my good sir? Camille Cosworth is nothing more than a cautionary tale waiting to happen. A modern day Icarus sans the waxwork wings. I see no reason why that tale can’t start --”
Se would’ve said ‘tonight’ if the referee hadn’t interrupted with a brusque count. Disheartened by his lack of foresight, the Temptress ground away until ‘THREE!’, then planted her encroaching foot on the second strand and launched herself into a Springboard Kneedrop that THWHUMPED Cosworth’s abused neck.
Vaguely aware that Manners and Hurt were far too close for comfort, Cam resisted the urge to slide to the floor by wrapping an arm around the bottom rope. It was a solid tactic, one that certainly would’ve worked against a woman that didn’t possess an unhealthy interest in vivisection. Alas that was one of Blassenville’s many outré fascinations and she indulged it by trying disarticulate Cosworth’s elbow with another vile stomp.
Camille yelped, pulled her arm away from the rope and wedged it beneath her torso. This kept it away from Celia, unfortunately it also allowed the not so good doctor to haul her up and stack her against the ropes.
“You are an anomaly, Camille Cosworth,” Blassenville noted mere heartbeats after she’d THWHAPPED her opponent’s décolletage with a trio of bra-bursting Forearm Smashes. “A freak athlete so oblivious to her own talents that she’d willingly inspire others to follow her up the mountain of fame even if they plummet to obscurity and injury only steps later. It’s already begun and you can’t even see it.”
Butt resting heavily against the second strand, Cosworth suddenly straightened up and rocked the redhead with a Forearm of her own.
“Peddle that crap elsewhere, lady,” she huffed. “You’re the only Pied Piper in this riNNNMMMMPPPPPPHHHHH!”
Celia’s right hand lashed out and clamped down atop Cam’s startled mug in a brutally simple Iron Claw!
“That’s where you’re wrong, Ms. Cosworth,” Blassenville smiled as she tried to force her fingertips through Camille’s skull. “I am merely an observer of the human condition. Any voices you hear whispering in your ear, I’m afraid they’re your own mind trying to alert you of potential danger. For instance, I should imagine they’re quite loud at the moment.”
The Sadistic Svengali transitioned to a second Goozle around Cosworth’s throat and pushed forward so hard that the brunette had to hook her arms around the top rope to keep from tumbling out of the ring!
Merle’d been calling for a break from the moment Blassenville stood her prey up, but he didn’t get his wish until he’d reached ‘FOUR!’ on his count. She backed away without complaint, casually smoothing back her hair while Camille sagged against the strands and drew in deep, rasping breaths.
“Dammit Celia, you can’t just throttle a girl when she’s in the ropes!” the zebra barked at his charge. “Next time it happens I won’t even bother giving a warning, I’ll just start counting!”
“Heavens, you’ve developed a great deal more confidence since you last called one of my matches,” Blassenville admitted with an approving smile. “Tell me though, will you be just as stern with Ms. Park when she inevitably storms the ring to save her overmatched paramour?”
The Temptress’s gaze flicked toward the stage and Merle’s followed suit, the referee genuinely concerned by the thought of adding Yoona Park to this volatile mix. Of course, Yoona was nowhere to be seen, but that slight distraction was all the opening Celia needed to charge, hop and THWHACK the sole of her right boot into the point of Cosworth’s chin! The Bicycle Kick did what the Goozle had not, flipping the Girl of Tomorrow over the top rope and into an ugly tumble that saw her collide with the apron before landing on the floor in the shadow of the Sisters of Mercy.
BICYCLE KICK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ySnLmICxhDA
“CLEAR OFF YOU TWO!” Merle bellowed at once. “I mean it, keep away!”
He rounded on Celia, an accusatory index finger pointed square at her face. “And you! Try that nonsense again and I’ll disqualify you on the spot!”
Blassenville showed remarkable remorse, indeed her tone bordered on apologetic as she backed into the center of the ring with the black & white in hot pursuit. Passive observers only until Merle’s back was turned, nurses Manners and Hurt pounced on the fallen flyer and hauled her off the floor with a double handful of hair. Treating themselves to an arm apiece, Kristin and Deborah stretched Camille into a vulnerable ‘T’ and secured her at wrist and bicep before hauling her high into the air. The FAWNatics let out a warning roar in hopes of rousting their heroine or at least getting Merle’s attention, alas the referee was still intent on showing Celia the error of her ways which meant he was sadly oblivious when the Sisters of Mercy THAWHAMMED their prey against the thinly-padded concrete with the tandem Crucifix Bomb they called the Morphine Drip.
MORPHINE DRIP @ 00:36
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ppcyzff5ZJQ
Cosworth bounced to a seat, wrapped both arms around her pounding skull and would’ve slopped out on her side if Manners hadn’t hooked her under the armpits and muscled her upright. Knowing full well that a boneless Cosworth returned to the ring might well raise questions even with a clod like Merle, Nurse Kristin muscled Cam against the apron and held her there just long enough for the Thrill Seeker to hook a supporting arm around the middle rope. Scene properly staged, the Sisters of Mercy collected their clipboards and retreated to a safe distance a full two seconds before Celia extricated herself from Merle’s attention.
“Your resilience is impressive, Ms. Cosworth,” the Temptress said as if she wasn’t fully aware of what’d just transpired. “I’d fully expected you to use a full three quarters of the official’s count, but since you’re ready to continue…”
Blassenville snatched hold of the brunette’s hair, dragged her through the strands and hauled her up only to bend her backward with a hellacious Inverted Facelock.
“I’ve been told you possess a very special quality, Camille.”
Celia grabbed Cosworth’s waistband with her free hand and cranked up on the Facelock, putting that much more torque on her opponent’s neck.
“I suppose one of your proclivities would call it a super power, even if it did last all of ninety seconds. I would see this power with my own eyes, presuming of course, that you endure long enough to bring it to bear.”
With that she dipped her knees and hoisted Camille into the air. But rather than drop straight down, the redhead turned over and laid out on her back to THWHONK Cam’s skull into the canvas with the Sheer-drop Rolling Cutter she called Aversion Therapy. Drilled into next week by the murderous collision, the Girl of Tomorrow flopped onto her back and offered no protest when Celia hooked the far leg and casually drew it up to her chest for the…
AVERSION THERAPY @ 1:48
www.youtube.com/watch?v=XeI2eEI-9TY
ONE…
TWO…
THRE -- NO!
Camille got her shoulder off the mat just in the nick of time to beat the count, and then the brunette flopped back to the mat as if spent after that subtle spasm. Still, the act of defiance convinces Blassenville that her opponent wasn’t ready to call it a night just yet. The Temptress rolled Cosworth into a prone position and quickly transitioned into a Border City Stretch, hooking an S-grip across the brunette’s face while trapping the near arm behind her own back while she laid at Camille’s side.
BORDER CITY STRETCH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=X2p1ss5VhZg
Merle was quick to offer the Girl of Tomorrow a chance to surrender as soon as Celia leaned backwards to put the torque on her neck and shoulder, eliciting a muffled groan from the trapped wrestler. Camille was equally quick to wave off the referee with her free arm, however, and she immediately began scrabbling against the canvas, kicking and clawing to make her way towards the safety of the ropes. Meanwhile, Blassenville made no efforts to impede her opponent’s forward progress, and in fact she seemed quite bemused by the brunette’s continued resistance.
“Do you hear it, Camille?” Celia said casually as if she were not currently trying to wrench Cosworth’s neck. “That nagging voice of doubt in the back of your head telling you to look before you leap?”
The Girl of Tomorrow didn’t respond with anything more than a triumphant yelp as she stretched out those last few inches to wrap her palm around the bottom rope. Predictably, the Temptress continued to work the hold until the referee’s count had reached “FOUR!” and when she finally relented, she gave the brunette a parting rake across the eyes as she released the Crossface. That last cheapshot drew the official’s ire, and Merle immediately stepped between the imposing redhead and her opponent, FAWN’s junior referee delivering a stern warning to Blassenville as authoritatively as he could manage.
Unfortunately, he had once more turned his back to Camille and the nefarious nurses at ringside. Nurse Hurt immediately lived up to her name by reaching under the ropes and THWACKING the clipboard into the back of Cosworth’s skull, and that was enough to send the brunette rolling back to the center of the ring, discombobulated and hoping to avoid another hit to the head.
“Oh my, ready so soon? Are you sure it would not be more prudent to use the entire allotted time for a rope break?” Celia said disingenuously as she brushed past the nattering referee with a single contemptuous wave of her hand and stalked towards her opponent. “You truly ARE a remarkable specimen, Camille Cosworth.”
Of course, the woman in question wasn’t ready, not by a longshot, though she didn’t have much say in the matter when her opponent reached down to wrap a pair of vise-like hands around her throat and hauled her back to her feet. Blassenville released the Goozle before Merle could get on her case again, though if Camille had been expecting a reprieve, there was none coming when Celia slammed a knee into her breadbasket to double her over. The Temptress trapped her opponent’s head between her thighs in a Standing Headscissor, then she wrapped her arms around Cosworth’s waist. She tried to haul the brunette up for a Piledriver, but for now at least, the Girl of Tomorrow had enough left in the tank to stonewall her efforts.
Camille braced her palms against Celia’s knees and wildly bicycled her legs, never letting Blassenville get her more than halfway up, and after a couple of stalled attempts, the doctor grew impatient. She let go of the waist lock and raised her hands high overhead for a Double Axehandle Smash to Cosworth’s exposed spine, though that plan was quickly foiled when Camille powered to a stand and tossed Celia up, over, and back with a parabolic Backbody Drop that ended with a thud from the landing and a roar from the crowd.
Grimacing as the back of her shoulders crashed into the deck, Blassenville nevertheless rolled through the impact and was back up on one knee just a couple of seconds later. A couple of seconds might as well have been an eternity for the Girl of Tomorrow, however, and even as Celia was tumbling on the canvas, so too was Camille. She had dropped to a seat and rolled backwards over her own shoulders to get into range, knowing exactly where the Temptress would be without even needing to look. Cosworth came out of her backroll with her feet planted underneath her hips in a low crouch, then threw herself into another somersault, this one airborne rather than grounded on the mat. It all took a second or two at most, and Blassenville raised her head just in time to catch a Flip Kick to the crown of her skull.
FLIP KICK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ICFnT7QBXDQ
The redheaded destroyer shuddered violently at the moment of impact, then she slopped over sideways onto the canvas, her eyes staring vacantly at the ceiling lights. For her part, Camille didn’t seem to be doing too well either as she laid on one side clutching the shoulder that she had just landed on after having it wrenched about by the Border City Stretch. The Sisters of Mercy weren’t taking any chances though, and they each grabbed a boot to haul their employer out onto the floor before Cosworth could sufficiently recover to either attempt a pin or follow up with more high octane offense.
While this irked the referee greatly, Camille seemed more than a little relieved that her opponent had vacated the ring, thereby giving her more time to recover herself. Still massaging her stiff left shoulder, she rolled onto her stomach and saw Nurses Manners and Hurt performing a neurological exam on the good doctor, Kristin bracing the sagging Temptress upright while Deborah checked for pupil response with a penlight. Apparently not liking what she saw, Nurse Hurt produced a bottle of ammonia and wafted it under the Celia’s nostrils to accelerate her return to full alertness.
“Is that even allowed?” Cosworth grumbled to the referee, to which the man gave only a helpless shrug of his shoulders.
Upon seeing that Merle was not going to intercede beyond a providing a twenty-count, Camille forced herself up and ran for the set of ropes opposite of the nefarious trio. Bouncing off the springy steel cables boosted her speed to truly ludicrous levels, then the Girl of Tomorrow launched herself at her opponent through the middle and top strands.
Whether the smelling salts had an effect or she was playing possum the entire time, however, Blassenville was prepared. She braced one hand against Kristin’s shoulder and leapt up from the floor to counter the Suicide Dive with an elbow to the head just as Cosworth was hurtling out of the ring. The terrible impact drew a loud, despairing groan from the FAWNatics and stopped the brunette dead in her tracks, leaving her hanging face down across the middle rope and dripping blood onto the apron from a gash on her forehead.
Unlike her opponent, the Temptress was far less fettered with such notions as rope breaks or fair play, so she promptly affixed an Iron Claw to Camille’s face once more, this time digging a couple of fingertips into the freshly opened cut. At the same time, Blassenville cupped the back of Cosworth’s head with the opposite hand and pulled down to mash her throat against the rubber-coated steel, and the Girl of Tomorrow flailed and gurgled helplessly until the referee finally threatened disqualification and forced Celia to relent after four long, agonizing seconds. By the time that the official had freed her from the ropes and pulled her back to the center of the ring, Camille’s wound had become considerably deeper and wider, and now it drizzled fresh blood into her right eye and down the right side of her face.
“Oh, Jesus, Cam… That looks bad…” Merle muttered as he tried and failed to staunch the bleeding with a handkerchief. “Maybe you should --”
Celia interrupted by firmly shoving the man to the side as she said, “She’s fine. Aren’t you, Camille?”
Cosworth didn’t get a chance to answer before Blassenville hauled her to her feet by the straps on her top. She didn’t stay vertical for long, however, as the Temptress wrapped one hand around her throat and vaulted her high into the air before bringing her down spine-first across a posted knee with a Chokeslam Backbreaker. The Girl of Tomorrow bounced off the bony joint with a blood-curdling scream, then she violently arched her back as if electrocuted.
CHOKESLAM BACKBREAKER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_EmuK7abD64
“Do you see?” Celia pointedly asked the referee. “Her response to pain stimulus is well within normal limits.”
Not bothering to argue the point further, the Temptress swiveled into a seat on her opponent’s chest and began raining down Haymakers, each and every blow targeting the cut that was getting progressively worse with every punch. Blassenville voluntarily stopped after ten without Merle having to issue a warning, though that was of little comfort to the brunette who was now bleeding so heavily that she could hardly keep her right eye open. Even so, Camille found the fortitude to drag herself to a corner and she wobbled to her feet with the turnbuckles for support, shouting a resolute “NO!” at the official when it looked like he was about to call for a stoppage.
“Just as stubborn as your other half,” Celia coolly observed before she took off in a run and charged at her opponent with the right side of her hip leading the way.
Cosworth gasped loudly when the destroyer-class wrestler barrelled into her gut, but her abdominal muscles proved to be as sturdy as they looked, and she managed to wrap both arms around Blassenville before powering both of them back to the center of the ring to avoid being further mauled in the corner. That was as far as she got before Celia broke out of her grasps and pivoted behind her in a snug Rear Waistlock, perhaps in preparation for a thunderous German Suplex, though the brunette short-circuited the effort by wrapping both of her legs around Blassenville’s left.
The sudden counter left Celia unbalanced for just a fraction of a second, and that was all the opportunity that Camille needed to toss herself into a front roll on the canvas while pulling the redhead along for the ride. The Temptress landed on her stomach with a graceless face-plant in the center of the ring, but that was the least of her concerns as her opponent still had her leg trapped, and a moment later she received a painful reminder of that fact when Cosworth yanked back on her ankle to pour pressure into the Kneebar.
ROLLING KNEEBAR:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=7deNCcuX49Y
“A submission hold…” Blassenville disdainfully hissed through her gritted teeth. “How desperate are youuuUUAARRGH!”
The Girl of Tomorrow didn’t bother with a verbal response. She merely crossed her ankles above the curve of the redhead’s rear end, squeezed her thighs together, and laid on her shoulders while bridging her hips to start bending Celia’s knee in the wrong direction. The Rolling Kneebar was something Camille typically saved for sparring, and even then only when the session was explicitly limited to submission wrestling, but there was truth to Blassenville’s words. Cosworth had been taking the bulk of the punishment all match long, and she was indeed quite desperate to bring an end to the contest any way she could.
“Give it up, doc,” Camille huffed between deep, panting breaths, the progressive blood loss exacerbating her exhaustion and impairing the vision in her right eye. “Yoona and Lenore have rubber bones and I still get them with this…”
To put an exclamation point on that last statement, Cosworth wrenched back again on the trapped limb, causing Celia to roar in pain before burying her face in the crook of her right elbow, then the Temptress raised her quivering left hand to the great pleasure of the crowd. Merle knelt down by the redhead’s side in a flash, vigilantly looking and listening for a tap out or verbal submission from the trapped wrestler.
Unfortunately, for both the referee and the Girl of Tomorrow, it was merely a ruse from the manipulative doctor. While the pain was still very, very real, her exaggerated distress was simply her latest ploy to draw attention away from the Sisters of Mercy at ringside. Nurse Manners slid into the ring unnoticed by the official, and before the surprised brunette could react, she raised her clipboard high overhead and brought it down edge-first across Camille’s forehead. The blow opened the gash even wider to the point that it spanned nearly the entire width of her brow, and Cosworth promptly abandoned her Kneebar with a shriek as her hands shot protectively to her face.
It took only a fraction of a second for Merle to whirl around, although that was still enough time for Kristin to quickly roll back out of the ring. Having not caught the interloper in the act, the junior referee had a hard time justifying a complete disqualification, and after some hemming and hawing, he settled for ejecting both of Blassenville’s helpers from ringside. Both Kristin Manners and Deborah Hurt complied with surprisingly little objection as the retreated back up the entrance ramp, though it was clear that they had already served their purpose and then some.
“That was unwise to send away my nurses,” Celia admonished the official as she gingerly stood up. “Especially with Ms. Cosworth in imminent need of medical attention.”
Merle glowered at the Temptress, though he quickly turned his attention back to his other charge at the edge of the squared circle. He continued to wipe at Camille’s face with his handkerchief, now a deep shade of red rather than white, although whatever he cleaned up was quickly replaced by fresh blood gushing out of the wound.
“Cam, I’m -- I’m sorry. I can’t stop the bleeding,” he stuttered. “You need stitches, like, right now. I’ve gotta call --”
“NO!” Cosworth roared at the official, once more rebuffing his offer to bring an end to the ordeal at the cost of suffering a loss. “I’ve -- I’ve got this… Just gi -- gimme a ninety count...”
With that said, the Girl of Tomorrow forced herself to stand on wobbly legs as her bemused opponent watched from the middle of the ring. Camille wiped her face one last time with her left forearm to get the blood out of her eyes, then she extended her tremulous right hand towards her opponent, the index and middle fingers posed like a gun barrel.
Cosworth took in a deep breath before affecting a chipper British accent and loudly shouting, “CHEERS LOVE! THE CAVALRY’S HERE!”
No one had any time to process what she meant, but apparently that phrase was on the list of code words for the production team to switch to the ultraviolet lights. Simultaneous with the special effects coming on, Camille exploded across the ring so quickly that she might as well have teleported. Indeed, the only evidence that the Girl of Tomorrow had physically traversed the twelve feet of space was the fact that Celia Blassenville was now upside down in midair where she had been standing just a heartbeat ago, the victim of a lightning fast Lariat that could only be fully appreciated on slow-motion replay.
By the time the Temptress had crashed to the deck a split second later, Camille was already on the middle rope on the opposite side of the ring from where she had started. Cosworth launched herself backwards and turned a somersault with the greatest of ease, splashing down across Blassenville’s unguarded midriff with a gorgeous Lionsault.
LIONSAULT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=UD08KkYy5F8
Celia’s entire body jackknifed into a V for a brief moment before she fell back down to the mat, flat as a plank. No self-respecting destroyer would be finished by just a Lariat and a Lionsault, however, and Camille knew that. Rather than settle into a pin, she immediately bounced back to her feet after the hellacious impact and bounded for the nearest corner, then she leapt from the mat to the top turnbuckle with seemingly the same amount of effort that it took normal people to step from the street to the curb.
Once she was at the penthouse, however, Cosworth did something atypical in that she did nothing. She was normally quick to launch into whatever daredevil maneuver she had planned, never staying on the ropes for more than a beat or two, but now she stood still for one second, then two, then three, then four.
At first, the FAWNatics thought she was striking a dramatic pose. Thousands of phones came out at once to snap a photo of the Girl of Tomorrow, the special lights making her normally invisible body paint glow in a high-tech circuit pattern as if she had just stepped out of the world of TRON, though on this occasion she was less photogenic than usual due to the blood on her face appearing inky black under the ultraviolet rays.
Even the Gladiatrix photographers scrambled around to take some dramatic shots while the fans roared their support, and then the unthinkable happened.
Camille wobbled.
It was a small, nearly imperceptible thing, but for one normally as sure-footed as a mountain goat, that little sway was enough to draw a loud gasp of concern from the collective audience.
Sure enough, the teetering got worse as Cosworth listed dangerously to one side and then the other. The copious blood loss combined with the incredible physical demands of her adrenaline rush made her light-headed and woozy, her body already burning out after hardly fifteen seconds rather than the usual ninety. As a last ditch effort, Camille stepped one leg down to the middle rope, then she reached forward and blindly groped for the top turnbuckle to steady herself and safely dismount.
Unfortunately, her questing hands came up empty, and that was all she wrote.
The Girl of Tomorrow pitched forward, and fell from the top turnbuckle to the outside of the ring like a marionette with its strings cut. Thousands of horrified screams filled the air, though having already blacked out, Camille couldn’t hear a single one. After an eight foot fall that took what felt like a subjective eternity to the mortified fans in attendance, Cosworth’s body hit the barely-padded cement with a sickening wet THWACK, and then all was quiet.
Celia, who’d instinctively rolled in the direction of the ropes when she heard the noise from the crowd, came to a stop on one hip and glanced around in search of the bloodied brunette. Finding nothing, she honed in on the FAWN’tron just as the production crew killed the ‘Awesome’ lighting and cued up the replay of Camille’s plunge from the penthouse to the floor.
“Oh, you poor thing,” Blassenville murmured, her lips curled up in a smile like charring paper. “You started to think about it.”
Elsewhere, Merle had slipped through the ropes and dropped into a worried crouch beside his charge.
“How you doin’, Cam?” he stammered. “Oh jeeze, that’s a stupid question. Ummmmh, can you feel
your fingers? No! Can you feel your toes? Can you wiggle your toes?”
Cosworth frowned, not just because the ref’s voice sounded like it was coming from the end of a long tunnel, but because the question made no sense.
“Yuuuuhhhhhh... yeah Merle. I can feel my toes,” she muttered. “They hurt. So does everything else.”
“Just hold on a little longer, I’ll have the medics out here in a heartbeat.”
He stood, turned to the Timekeeper and would’ve thrown a signal if the Girl of Tomorrow hadn’t sat up like a corpse in a Romero film and grabbed hold of his belt.
“NO!” Cam roared. “I can stand… I can stand!”
She proceeded to do just that, her grip on the referee supplemented with a desperate handful of apron. Seeing the Girl of Tomorrow back on her feet earned a strong round of applause from the capacity crowd, though their mood soured considerably when Celia strode around the corner down at the far end of the narrow aisle.
“Mind-screwing witch,” Cosworth grunted as she took a step toward the ominous redhead.
“Stop it, Camille,” Merle put a hand on her gulping tummy, stopping the brunette for at least a moment. “You look like you’ve been in a car crash. I can’t let this continue.”
“Sage words from our usually dense official,” Blassenville commented as she closed the distance. “I’d take them under advisement, Ms. Cosworth. He is only looking out for your best interests, after--”
Camille dipped around the zebra, raced toward the Temptress and took to the skies, her legs spread in a narrow trap that ‘smecked’ shut around Celia’s noggin. Her ankles locked immediately thereafter and the Season’s Beating’s crowd dared to believe in a second Ninety Seconds of Awesome as the brunette torqued her hips backward and took Blassenville over with a Hurricanra-NOOOOOOO!
Blassenville locked her hands around Cosworth’s upper thighs and jerked up, stopping the ‘Rana dead in its tracks with poor Cam hung upside down, her head only inches from the floor. Celia kept her there just long enough for Cosworth (and by extension the crowd) to understand the peril of her situation, then she muscled the Camille back onto her shoulders, turned toward the ring and damn near broke her burden in
half with a Powerbomb delivered against the ring apron.
APRON POWERBOMB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=SOIzGWU3uTg
The Girl of Tomorrow gaped, her jaw hung open for little more than a wheeze because the scream inside was simply too large to escape her throat. She would’ve crumpled to the floor like a sack of laundry if Blassenville hadn’t held on and muscled her crumpled form under the bottom rope. Celia studied her for a moment, then reached up and grabbed hold of the top rope.
From there she boosted herself onto the apron, only to stop when Merle stepped in and said, “Don’t even bother, Celia. I’m calling the match here and now.”
“You keep saying that, yet I still haven’t heard a bell. Is that perhaps because the powers that be have ordered you to stay your hand? Perhaps, like me, those faceless suits want to plumb the depths of the well of resolve that powers the preternaturally acrobatic Ms. Cosworth? Or perhaps they, like the rest of these people, enjoy a plane crash far more than an air show?”
The referee had no answer for that, so Blassenville shook him off and eased back into the squared circle. Celia had shared this ring with several damage sponges during her FAWN tenure (that backwoods idiot savant Collins came promptly to mind) so she was no stranger to the occasional display of gutsy defiance, yet even the not so good doctor was surprised when Camille rolled onto her belly and powered to all fours. Genuinely intrigued by the question of just how much it would take to stifle the crippled high-flyer’s fighting spirit, the Crimson Cagliostro circled around to Cam’s noggin leaned over to wrap both arms around her waist.
The low moan from Cosworth was utterly absorbed by the much louder groan from those assembled when Blassenville dipped her knees and swung the brunette up onto the point of her shoulder in a Canadian Backbreaker. Camille wailed and shook her head ‘no’ to deny the submission, a gesture that would’ve been far more meaningful had the Temptress wanted her to quit. Instead she carefully shifted her grip from Cam’s chest to her chin, then stepped forward and laid out on her back to THAWHAM the
Girl of Tomorrow down flat on her back with an ingeniously delivered Neckbreaker.
GUTWRENCH NECKBREAKER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=9-8da56rjww
Beside her, Celia rolled to one knee and planted a single hand atop the brunette’s lacerated face. T’was a pin, true, but Merle wasn’t quite in position, so Blassenville administered the count herself. “ONE! TWO! THRE--”
Cam swatted her tormentor’s hand away, breaking the faux pin by the slimmest of margins.
“How fascinating. I do believe that your muscle memory is so strong that nothing short of perfect leverage or total unconsciousness could keep you down for a three count. It’s a theory I’d like to explore in more detail, but I fear our Mr. Merle might actually defy management and stop this match. And since we can’t have our noble heroine defeated in such an ignominious fashion…”
Blassenville shoved Cosworth onto her stomach, grabbed a handful of waistband and muscled her to hands and knees. Back on her feet shortly thereafter, the Temptress reached between Cam’s legs, laid claim to her left wrist and used it to haul the brunette into an exhausted, semiconscious Pumphandle. In no particular rush despite the growing determination she sensed from the referee, Blassenville slipped her left arm under Cosworth’s right bicep and wrenched it back to secure the last of her hooks. With Cam literally dangling in her clutches, Celia allowed the throng a brief moment of contemplation before she powered her victim up and over, Blassenville abandoning the Pumphandle at its apex to hook her left arm across Camille’s chest and drop back full force, thus THWHUNKING her adversary’s bloodied features into the thinly-sheathed plywood.
HEAD GAME II:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=8uPyAxE3Rb8
Cam didn’t bounce in the wake of Celia’s deadly Head Game, indeed she remained stretched out flat until the redhead hooked a Half Nelson and rolled her onto her back. Not entirely convinced of the other woman’s unconsciousness even then, Blassenville planted a knee across the brunette’s chest and bore down with all her weight while simultaneously capturing the far leg in a tight Half Matchbook. Merle didn’t
hesitate for a second, in fact his count was probably a little quicker than regulation as he counted off…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
The bell sounded and the zebra raised Celia’s hand at once, more to get her off poor Camille than out of any urge to celebrate her victory. Nonplussed, the Sinister Svengali offered the jeering masses a smile as the Announcer confirmed, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via pin-fall… CELIA BLASSENVILLE!”
Under less gruesome circumstances the redhead would’ve delivered a final message directly to her opponent, regardless of consciousness. Alas, Cam was in no condition to hear anything, especially not now that the long delayed EMT’s had finally swarmed ringside. Still, there was a message to deliver, so Celia strode over to the nearest camera and grabbed hold to ensure she was the focal point.
“You didn’t seem to have much use for the notion of fear as a survival instinct when first we met, Ms. Cosworth. I wonder if that will change once you wake to find yourself in snuggled in a hospital bed? Will all those new aches and pains bring even a small measure of sense to the Girl of Tomorrow? Or will you remain the same fearlessly reckless idiot you’ve always been? I do hope it’s the former. Because if you’ve fallen once, you can fall again. And if you fall again… fate might not let you get up.”
With that she released her grip on the camera and strode away, leaving the feed to focus on the handful of EMT’s tending to the gory, glassy-eyed wreckage of Camille Cosworth.
The throbbing of an electric cello filled the FAWN Arena, and just as the FAWNatics got to their feet to roar, Camille Cosworth brushed the curtains aside with one sweep of her arm and stepped onto center stage atop the entrance ramp, dressed in a matching blue-and-green set of sports bra, trunks, and a pair of low-cut wrestling shoes.
CAMILLE COSWORTH
Another month meant another pay-per-view appearance for the Girl of Tomorrow as her star continued to rise. Despite the brevity of her career, Camille had already accrued a highlight reel a mile long and a legion of fans that seemed to grow ever larger as Tomorrow-Morrow Land expanded its borders to take in not only the usual dual citizens from Park Place, but also disenfranchised Jacobites, ex-Kylie Corpsmen, and refugees from Domi-Nation. All of them lent their voices to the cacophony of cheers as the music built to a crescendo, and then they abruptly went quiet when the lights and the sound cut out.
It’s only for a second, however, as a pyrotechnic ball of flame erupted from the stage where Cosworth was last seen standing, accompanied by the roar of the crowd and the music returning at twice the volume. Cannons lining the entrance ramp went off in rapid succession, giving the appearance of a massive fireball streaking towards the ring. It all culminated in one final discharge of fireworks from each of the four ring posts, lighting up the squared circle and revealing Camille standing in the center of the canvas, just arm’s length away from the referee as if she had been warped through space and time. Merle quickly glanced over his charge from head to toe, confident that pigs would fly before Cosworth brought illegal weapons to the ring.
Once that cursory check was complete, the Girl of Tomorrow claimed a corner for herself then turned towards the hard camera to flash a wink and blow a kiss to her girlfriend who was spending an extended holiday with the rest of the Cosworth clan in San Antonio. Camille would’ve been there herself had it not been for a longstanding promise to FAWN social media director Mel Sutton that she would be available for an interview before the end of the year. Much to her consternation and regret, however, she had not been home to prevent her mother from sharing her embarrassing childhood photos with Yoona, and Yoona was now posting them publicly on Instagram.
“Puberty was very kind to you,” Merle snickered as he produced his phone and displayed a picture of a gawky eleven year old Camille wearing one of the very first Kylie Sanders t-shirts ever made while she inadvertently showed off her orthodontic braces through a wide, beaming smile. “Also, you were WAY too young to be watching --”
Cosworth rolled her eyes and interrupted with a light-hearted scoff, “Careful, Merle. Offend me now and I’ll make you a Gungan in my FAWN / Star Wars crossover fanfiction.”
“You -- You wouldn’t…” the man muttered as he visibly blanched.
“Mesa Merle! Mesa your humble referee! Yousa follow me commands at all times, okeeday?”
The referee was just about to plead for clemency when he was interrupted by the ring announcer introducing Camille’s opponent for the evening.
“And introducing her opponent, hailing from…” the man in the tux trailed off, dipped his head and cupped a finger to one ear, apparently listening quite intently. After a moment he nodded, straightened up and raised his mic. “My apologies ladies and gentlemen, I’ve just been informed that Cassie Hopkins has been in an altercation backstage and is currently being examined by the FAWN medical staff.” This brought a round of boos from the crowd and a frown from Cosworth, she certainly didn’t want to win by forfeit. The Announcer understood their disappointment and raised a placating hand.
“However, Bethany Christian has secured a replacement on short notice and she’s on the way to the ring now.”
The words were barely out of his mouth when the lights dimmed to almost nothing and the speakers came to life with a low sigh of guitars that gradually built to the opening of A Perfect Circle’s ‘Passive’. The capacity crowd buzzed in disbelief, then roared in astonishment as the curtain parted and one of FAWN’s worst nightmares strolled into view for the first time in more than two years.
PASSIVE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=oMe4kVNKvNk
CELIA BLASSENVILLE:
Almost as shaken as the audience, the Announcer called, “And introducing her opponent, hailing from New Cannan Louisiana, she stands at five feet nine inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and forty five pounds. She is the Crimson Cagliostro, the Puppet Master and the Eighth Deadly Sin. She is TEMPRESS… CELIA BLASSENVILLE!”
Pausing atop the ramp to better appreciate the terrified squeaks of her little white mice, the redheaded Destroyer scanned the arena from one end to the other, but apparently found nothing of interest until she honed in on the Girl of Tomorrow. Dark eyes narrowing slightly, Blassenville reached behind her back, pulled out a small white towel and made a show of wiping off her knuckles. Once they were cleaned to her satisfaction, she tossed it aside and headed down the aisle.
For her first pay-per-view appearance since the involuntary committal of a certain megalomaniacal Dream, the Temptress wore a gleaming black lycca one-piece with long ‘sleeves’ that were comprised of a pair of thin ebon bands that wound around her arms, ending just above the wrists. Her ensemble finished with matching kneepads and gleaming white wrestling boots, while her long copper-colored hair was pulled back into a tight braid that hung almost to the small of her back. Saddened to discover that no one in her immediate vicinity had resolved to take up either bathing or proper grammar, Celia forced herself to stifle a groan when she read a sign pleading:
TAKE ME TO TOMORROW-MORROW LAND, CAMILLE!
“You should pray she doesn’t,” Blassenville noted in passing. “By all accounts the gravity there is a fraction what it is here and the health care is highly suspect.”
The test subjects waving the sign didn’t look like they quite followed all of that, thus earning another disappointed sigh from the redhead as she reached the shadow of the squared circle.
Closing her eyes to better savor the silence that only happened before an experiment, Celia made her way up the steps, wiped her boots on the apron and dipped through the ropes. Quick to claim the center as her own, she turned in a circle that ended with her back to Cosworth. From there she cast a single glance over one shoulder, then headed to her corner to await the referee’s final instructions and inspection.
Across the ring, Camille was not pleased at all about the last minute opponent swap, and she couldn’t quite keep the disappointed frown off her face as she flatly muttered, “This sucks.”
“I concur,” Merle groaned. “You still good to go, Camille?”
“Well, I was gonna suggest we call the whole thing off and go sing Christmas carols, but we’re one short of a barbershop quartet so I guess we just gotta wrestle,” the brunette sighed.
More intrigued than intimidated by the tall redhead in the opposite corner, Cam began clapping as soon as the bell CLANGED, thus ensuing there was plenty of FAWNatic powered percussion as she strode to center ring. If Cosworth came forth with the expression of someone pondering over a new and interesting puzzle, Celia Blassenville wore that of a researcher noting the temperament of their guinea pig before the first injection. Easing out of the corner to slide along the ropes, the Temptress made no move to engage, though she did spin out of reach when Cosworth darted in showing a Single Leg Takedown.
“Ok, I gotta know,” Cam said once she’d drawn back to something resembling safe distance. “What made you slink out of the shadows now? You paying for Lisa’s latest round of thorazine by working a few matches?”
Blassenville came off the ropes, but stopped shy of stepping into the brunette’s reach.
“The Dream’s care is provided by a certain wealthy patron, the kind that refers to the Burlingame’s as ‘new money.’ No dear, Lisa’s much improved since last you saw her, indeed she’s so well off I can leave her in the care of the Sisters for times when I’m needed elsewhere. And having observed you for the last several months, I would say that--”
Celia’s tone was so soothing that Cosworth *almost* got caught when the Machiavellian Destroyer hopped forward and launched a Bicycle Kick straight at her opponent’s chin! Of course ‘almost’ against the Girl of Tomorrow might as well have meant missing by a mile, considering her almost preternatural reflexes. Dipping her head half a heartbeat before Blassenville’s boot would’ve inverted her chin, Cam ran the ropes on Celia’s six and vaulted onto the second strand just as her opponent whirled around. Launching herself backward without so much as a glance, Cosworth hooked an arm under Celia’s bicep and laid out on her side, meaning to sling her across the canvas with a Springboard Armdr--NO!
Blassenville locked her arm in place and dropped into a deep crouch, effectively freezing Cam in
place. Smiling faintly at the surprise on the younger woman’s face, Blassenville got a little lower, then stood up straight and jerked Cosworth back to boot leather.
Camille made the landing look as effortless as she always did, though this was greeted with much more alarm than usual because Celia promptly ‘smecked’ a hand around her throat! Quick to grab hold of the brunette’s waistband, Blassenville clamped down hard and muscled the Thrill Seeker high into the air for a ring-rattling Choke Sla-- relieved cheers from the capacity crowd when Camille laced her fingers into a Double Axehandle and brought it smashing down on Celia’s elbow. The goozle disintegrated, Cam dropped to the mat and drove a stiff Kneelift into the redhead’s midsection. The Temptress doubled over so Cosworth slapped on a Front Facelock and threw a signal to her legions before spinning her grasp into a Three Quarters Facelock and-- Blassenville put both hands to the small of her back and shoved hard enough to send Camille into the ropes for the second time in less than a minute.
The relatively short runway didn’t give Cosworth enough time to go airborne, so instead she returned at a full head of steam and launched herself into a Baseball Slide that went straight
through Blassenville’s planted --
“UUUGGGGHH!”
Ms. Cam’s wild ride came to an unpleasantly abrupt end when Celia reached down and wrapped both hands around the brunette’s throat! No ingenious escape this time, the redhead simply muscled her foe into the air and squeeeeeeeeeeeezed while Camille wriggled and fought for purchase.
Merle didn’t bother with a warning, he just swatted Blassenville on the shoulder, then started to count, “ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!”
Celia let Cosworth drop and took two big steps back, leaving the younger woman doubled over and gasping for breath but otherwise unharmed.
“As I was saying,” Celia was all cool, clinical detachment as she smoothed her hair back, “having observed you for the last several months, I’ve come to the conclusion that you’re one of the more interesting cases in FAWN… now that the Dream has been properly medicated, you understand.”
Locking eyes with the taller woman once her breathing returned to normal, Camille huffed, “Attention from a wannabe super villain? I’m flattered, didn’t think I could check that one off my bucket list so early. So what is it that got your attention? My stylin’ togs? My sweet, sweet theme music? My--”
“Utter lack of survival instinct?” Blassenville finished for her.
Cosworth snorted, clearly unimpressed with the mad doctor’s analysis.
“Fear is for mere mortals, doc. Do you want a second to write that down on your notepad or can we keep wrest--”
“Fear is what keeps people alive, Ms. Cosworth. It keeps us from touching a hot stove or wandering into traffic or daring a piece of gas station sushi. Fear is what allows us to grow and evolve as individuals. It is not to be shunned or scorned, but incorporated into our daily lives. Only by acknowledging fear can we hope to master it. You however --”
“Don’t need life hacks from a chick with her own set of Silent Hill nurses,” Cosworth snapped. “Now do you want to fight or do you have another monologue prepared?”
“Oh, is our resident parkour specialist feeling a bit cranky?” Celia chided. “Are you actually ready to wrestle or shall I step aside so you can bounce off some--”
Cam stormed in with a quick Haymaker, unfortunately Blassenville deflected it with her forearm at the last second. The Temptress followed with a viper-quick strike to the throat, the stiff-fingered jab making Cosworth stumble and gag. Celia caught another goozle before the brunette could turn away and strengthened her hooks by grabbing Camille under her left arm. Calm and cool as ever, the redhead stepped back and torqued her hips, a simple combination that sent Cosworth soaring through the air to THAWHAM down flat on her back!
BIEL TOSS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4JUfFvTqLj0
“You think this recklessness makes you brave. Noteworthy. Perhaps even heroic,” Celia noted as the Girl of Tomorrow rolled to one knee. “But you’re not fearless, Camille Cosworth. You’re oblivious. You have absolutely no idea of what might befall you with even the slightest misstep and I find that helplessly fascinating. Because sooner or later you WILL fall. And when you do, those cheers you whore yourself out for will transform into the most anemic of pity applause. I believe you’ll find it a poor substitute for--”
Cam popped up, raced at the redhead and left her feet in the blink of an eye. Twisting around in midair, she locked her legs around the taller woman’s hips and tucked in to swing her way through --
“CRAP!”
The attempted Victory Roll went awry when Blassenville cinched her arms around Cosworth’s waist and muscled her back to start. Pressed in tight against the high-flyer’s back, Celia traded the Waistlock for a Full Nelson one arm at a time. When it was complete she pressed down on the brunette’s neck and settled into a slight, bouncy crouch that sent shivers of pain through Camille’s legs and back.
HANGING FULL NELSON:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=uA8gKI4nQzQ
“Crap indeed, my adrenaline addicted friend,” Celia cooed in her foe’s ear. “Have you started second guessing your strategy yet? Hopefully not, I’d love to see how idiotically ‘brave’ you can be in pursuit of your drug of choice. Of course, the moment you start to second guess yourself, the very INSTANT you have to think about what you’re doing… that’s when this will get truly interesting.”
With that she bore down on the Nelson and bounced in place, earning a pained wail and a resolute ‘no!’ from Cosworth when the ref asked if she wanted to submit.
Camille twisted her hips back and forth in an effort to dislodge her shins from her captor’s thighs, but it was to no avail as she was hooked too deeply. Denied one avenue of escape, the Girl of Tomorrow tried another by lifting her arms straight up overhead. This time she hit pay dirt as she slipped out from underneath Celia’s Full Nelson, though the price of her freedom was an awkward looking faceplant onto the mat.
“Well done, my dear. Let’s see how -- OOOOF!”
Blassenville tried to advance on the prone Cosworth and immediately caught a stiff Mule Kick to the gut for her trouble. The blow sent the red-headed destroyer reeling backwards into the ropes, and when the doctor came rebounding back, Camille had already regained her feet. Showing off the eyes in the back of her head, Cosworth didn’t even turn to look before she reached over her right shoulder with both hands to grab Blassenville’s head in a Three Quarters Facelock. Whereas most wrestlers would have went for an Ace Crusher, the Girl of Tomorrow seemingly abhorred the mundane, so instead she opted for a Standing Shiranui Backstabber. Launching herself into a backflip with Celia’s neck as her axis of rotation, she curled her legs and planted her bony knees into the redhead’s spine before laying out on her back at the conclusion of her acrobatic maneuver.
STANDING SHIRANUI BACKSTABBER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rdd5nMO4qzE
The impact of the landing was transferred through Cosworth’s thighs and directly into Blassenville’s vertebrae, causing the Temptress to be launched off the brunette’s shins and knees. Miraculously, Celia remained standing as she staggered forwards, one hand pressed to her back and the other around her neck, and that made her the perfect victim for Camille’s follow-up attack.
Having already kipped to her feet before the FAWNatics could rise to theirs for an ovation, Cosworth surged forward and effortlessly leapt to a seat atop Blassenville’s shoulders. For just a moment, the Girl of Tomorrow was in the precarious Electric Chair position, but before Celia could capitalize, those alabaster thighs framing her head clamped shut and Camille launched into another backflip. This time Blassenville was pulled along for the ride, all one hundred and forty five pounds of destroyer-grade muscle ripped off the mat as if she were nothing more than a flyweight. Forcibly freed from the clutches of gravity, Celia flipped head over heels before landing on the crown of her skull, courtesy of an absolutely wicked Poisoned Frankensteiner.
POISONED FRANKENSTEINER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=WtvkROBN_mo
Blassenville remained upside down and vertical for a second like a lawn dart, then she timbered onto her belly. With her thighs still clamped around the good doctor’s head, Camille muscled the two of them onto their backs and she quickly scrambled over to hook a leg for the pin. The referee slid down to the mat next to the pair of wrestlers and counted out…
ONE!
TWO!
...and Celia shoved the brunette away, displaying plenty of strength despite the harsh landing just momentss ago. Indeed, Blassenville got to her feet just a fraction of a second after her opponent, though that fraction of a second was more than enough time for Camille to come barreling at her feet first, nothing more than a blur of green and blue as the Girl of Tomorrow twirled through the air for a Tornado Kick. The Temptress was quick for her size, however, and she shuffled her feet and backpedaled out of range, thus avoiding the sole of Cosworth’s shoe scraping against her face by a hair’s breadth.
The assault wasn’t over yet, as Camille landed lightly on her feet after the missed connection on the Tornado Kick. Showing some fancy striker’s footwork she had learned from Yoona, she nimbly stepped her way through another pirouette to build momentum and came out of the spin with her right leg raised and ready to deliver a Super Kick straight to Celia’s jaw.
As soon as she got eyes on her target, however, the Girl of Tomorrow aborted her kick halfway through. Blassenville was already leaning against the turnbuckles in the corner with a faint smile on her face, secure in her knowledge that Cosworth would not strike an opponent already in the ropes. Still holding her kicking leg aloft and chambered, Camille regarded the redhead with a slightly raised right eyebrow and a soft scoff, then she dusted off the top of her right shoe with one hand before she reset her stance and retreated to the opposite corner.
“Confident. Perhaps even… arrogant...” Celia calmly noted as she rubbed the remaining stiffness out of her lower back. “Then again, why shouldn’t you be? You’ve got it all. Speed, and power, and that je ne sais quoi connection with the fans. When you fly, they fly with you…”
“...but what happens when you fall?” finished a voice from the floor behind Cosworth.
DEBORAH HURT
KRISTIN MANNERS
The Girl of Tomorrow whirled around and spotted Deborah Hurt and Kristin Manners at ringside, the pair of nurses having apparently materialized out of the crowd during the last fracas. Each of them were holding a clipboard and scribbling away on a medical chart, and on closer examination, Camille saw that it was her name on those documents, a fact which put her very much ill at ease.
“Well, that’s just faaaaaaantastic,” Cosworth grumbled to herself before asking Blassenville, “Hey, aren’t these Creepy McCreepersons supposed to be keeping an eye on the Dream in case she chews her way out of her restraints or something?”
“I appreciate the concern, Ms. Cosworth. I assure you, Lisa is resting quite peacefully after her latest round of clozapine and electroconvulsive therapy,” Celia coolly answered. “You have much more pressing matters to worry about.”
On that ominous note, Celia stalked out of her corner in a beeline towards the Girl of Tomorrow. Knowing it’d be unwise to be caught with Blassenville in front of her and the Sisters of Mercy at her back, Camille sprang out of her corner as well. Not wanting to meet the larger wrestler head on and her failed Baseball Slide still fresh in her mind, Cosworth took a third option by leaping into the air and splaying her legs to sail over the charging Temptress.
The pair of wrestlers wound up back to back, but not for long as Blassenville pivoted about with her right arm locked and loaded for a decapitating Lariat. This time Camille ducked under by dropping to a seat on the mat and rolling backwards over her head and shoulders. She came out of her tumble kneeling right behind her opponent, then she slipped an arm between Celia’s thighs and hoisted the redhead onto her shoulder. Despite the weight of the other woman, Cosworth popped to a stand, spun in a tight circle, then shoved Blassenville off her shoulder while sitting out on the mat to slam the Temptress into the deck with a Blue Thunder Bomb.
BLUE THUNDER BOMB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=SuvVNblNPFg
Already in perfect position from her seat on the canvas, Camille leaned forward to press a hand against Celia’s chest for the pin. The FAWNatics counted along for…
ONE!
TWO!
THR--NO!
...before Blassenville bucked free, though not as forcefully as before.
Cosworth quickly scrambled to her feet, and seeing that her opponent was much slower to rise this time, she took position at the redhead’s side, turned her back, and threw herself into a high-arcing Standing Moonsault. The Girl of Tomorrow had pushed it too far, however, as Celia curled her legs to her chest before lashing out with a double boot to Camille’s ribs just at the peak of the flip.
FAIL-SAULT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=K2Rbzrg1ssM
Twenty thousand cheering fans suddenly turned into twenty thousand groaning fans as Cosworth was launched to the side of the ring where she laid in a motionless heap. The Sisters of Mercy quickly hustled over to that side of the ring to observe the waylaid brunette, and they continued to scribble down notes for later.
“...unnnnggghhh… it’s like sparring with Vale…” Camille groaned to herself while she remained down. “God, I hate sparring with Vale…”
Not too far away, the Crimson Cagliostro rolled to one knee and allowed herself a moment to collect her thoughts. After a single nod to her nurses, Blassenville rose to her full height, strode over to Camille and promptly drove a stomp between her shoulders.
“Was the landing perhaps a bit rougher than expected, Camille? Allow me to provide a proper distraction.”
Celia braced her left foot against the back of Cosworth’s neck, grabbed the top rope in both hands and hoisted her right foot off the mat, thus transferring every bit of her weight to the vulnerable Thrill Seeker. Already more than a little nervous about Cam’s condition following that ugly landing, Merle rushed over to the action and swatted Blassenville on the shoulder.
“Hey, get off her, Celia! You could do some serious damage like that!”
Celia treated him to a quizzical eyebrow, then dropped into a deep crouch, adding even more pressure to the scrabbling brunette’s neck.
“Have you ever paid serious attention to the way this particular young woman moves, my good sir? Camille Cosworth is nothing more than a cautionary tale waiting to happen. A modern day Icarus sans the waxwork wings. I see no reason why that tale can’t start --”
Se would’ve said ‘tonight’ if the referee hadn’t interrupted with a brusque count. Disheartened by his lack of foresight, the Temptress ground away until ‘THREE!’, then planted her encroaching foot on the second strand and launched herself into a Springboard Kneedrop that THWHUMPED Cosworth’s abused neck.
Vaguely aware that Manners and Hurt were far too close for comfort, Cam resisted the urge to slide to the floor by wrapping an arm around the bottom rope. It was a solid tactic, one that certainly would’ve worked against a woman that didn’t possess an unhealthy interest in vivisection. Alas that was one of Blassenville’s many outré fascinations and she indulged it by trying disarticulate Cosworth’s elbow with another vile stomp.
Camille yelped, pulled her arm away from the rope and wedged it beneath her torso. This kept it away from Celia, unfortunately it also allowed the not so good doctor to haul her up and stack her against the ropes.
“You are an anomaly, Camille Cosworth,” Blassenville noted mere heartbeats after she’d THWHAPPED her opponent’s décolletage with a trio of bra-bursting Forearm Smashes. “A freak athlete so oblivious to her own talents that she’d willingly inspire others to follow her up the mountain of fame even if they plummet to obscurity and injury only steps later. It’s already begun and you can’t even see it.”
Butt resting heavily against the second strand, Cosworth suddenly straightened up and rocked the redhead with a Forearm of her own.
“Peddle that crap elsewhere, lady,” she huffed. “You’re the only Pied Piper in this riNNNMMMMPPPPPPHHHHH!”
Celia’s right hand lashed out and clamped down atop Cam’s startled mug in a brutally simple Iron Claw!
“That’s where you’re wrong, Ms. Cosworth,” Blassenville smiled as she tried to force her fingertips through Camille’s skull. “I am merely an observer of the human condition. Any voices you hear whispering in your ear, I’m afraid they’re your own mind trying to alert you of potential danger. For instance, I should imagine they’re quite loud at the moment.”
The Sadistic Svengali transitioned to a second Goozle around Cosworth’s throat and pushed forward so hard that the brunette had to hook her arms around the top rope to keep from tumbling out of the ring!
Merle’d been calling for a break from the moment Blassenville stood her prey up, but he didn’t get his wish until he’d reached ‘FOUR!’ on his count. She backed away without complaint, casually smoothing back her hair while Camille sagged against the strands and drew in deep, rasping breaths.
“Dammit Celia, you can’t just throttle a girl when she’s in the ropes!” the zebra barked at his charge. “Next time it happens I won’t even bother giving a warning, I’ll just start counting!”
“Heavens, you’ve developed a great deal more confidence since you last called one of my matches,” Blassenville admitted with an approving smile. “Tell me though, will you be just as stern with Ms. Park when she inevitably storms the ring to save her overmatched paramour?”
The Temptress’s gaze flicked toward the stage and Merle’s followed suit, the referee genuinely concerned by the thought of adding Yoona Park to this volatile mix. Of course, Yoona was nowhere to be seen, but that slight distraction was all the opening Celia needed to charge, hop and THWHACK the sole of her right boot into the point of Cosworth’s chin! The Bicycle Kick did what the Goozle had not, flipping the Girl of Tomorrow over the top rope and into an ugly tumble that saw her collide with the apron before landing on the floor in the shadow of the Sisters of Mercy.
BICYCLE KICK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ySnLmICxhDA
“CLEAR OFF YOU TWO!” Merle bellowed at once. “I mean it, keep away!”
He rounded on Celia, an accusatory index finger pointed square at her face. “And you! Try that nonsense again and I’ll disqualify you on the spot!”
Blassenville showed remarkable remorse, indeed her tone bordered on apologetic as she backed into the center of the ring with the black & white in hot pursuit. Passive observers only until Merle’s back was turned, nurses Manners and Hurt pounced on the fallen flyer and hauled her off the floor with a double handful of hair. Treating themselves to an arm apiece, Kristin and Deborah stretched Camille into a vulnerable ‘T’ and secured her at wrist and bicep before hauling her high into the air. The FAWNatics let out a warning roar in hopes of rousting their heroine or at least getting Merle’s attention, alas the referee was still intent on showing Celia the error of her ways which meant he was sadly oblivious when the Sisters of Mercy THAWHAMMED their prey against the thinly-padded concrete with the tandem Crucifix Bomb they called the Morphine Drip.
MORPHINE DRIP @ 00:36
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ppcyzff5ZJQ
Cosworth bounced to a seat, wrapped both arms around her pounding skull and would’ve slopped out on her side if Manners hadn’t hooked her under the armpits and muscled her upright. Knowing full well that a boneless Cosworth returned to the ring might well raise questions even with a clod like Merle, Nurse Kristin muscled Cam against the apron and held her there just long enough for the Thrill Seeker to hook a supporting arm around the middle rope. Scene properly staged, the Sisters of Mercy collected their clipboards and retreated to a safe distance a full two seconds before Celia extricated herself from Merle’s attention.
“Your resilience is impressive, Ms. Cosworth,” the Temptress said as if she wasn’t fully aware of what’d just transpired. “I’d fully expected you to use a full three quarters of the official’s count, but since you’re ready to continue…”
Blassenville snatched hold of the brunette’s hair, dragged her through the strands and hauled her up only to bend her backward with a hellacious Inverted Facelock.
“I’ve been told you possess a very special quality, Camille.”
Celia grabbed Cosworth’s waistband with her free hand and cranked up on the Facelock, putting that much more torque on her opponent’s neck.
“I suppose one of your proclivities would call it a super power, even if it did last all of ninety seconds. I would see this power with my own eyes, presuming of course, that you endure long enough to bring it to bear.”
With that she dipped her knees and hoisted Camille into the air. But rather than drop straight down, the redhead turned over and laid out on her back to THWHONK Cam’s skull into the canvas with the Sheer-drop Rolling Cutter she called Aversion Therapy. Drilled into next week by the murderous collision, the Girl of Tomorrow flopped onto her back and offered no protest when Celia hooked the far leg and casually drew it up to her chest for the…
AVERSION THERAPY @ 1:48
www.youtube.com/watch?v=XeI2eEI-9TY
ONE…
TWO…
THRE -- NO!
Camille got her shoulder off the mat just in the nick of time to beat the count, and then the brunette flopped back to the mat as if spent after that subtle spasm. Still, the act of defiance convinces Blassenville that her opponent wasn’t ready to call it a night just yet. The Temptress rolled Cosworth into a prone position and quickly transitioned into a Border City Stretch, hooking an S-grip across the brunette’s face while trapping the near arm behind her own back while she laid at Camille’s side.
BORDER CITY STRETCH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=X2p1ss5VhZg
Merle was quick to offer the Girl of Tomorrow a chance to surrender as soon as Celia leaned backwards to put the torque on her neck and shoulder, eliciting a muffled groan from the trapped wrestler. Camille was equally quick to wave off the referee with her free arm, however, and she immediately began scrabbling against the canvas, kicking and clawing to make her way towards the safety of the ropes. Meanwhile, Blassenville made no efforts to impede her opponent’s forward progress, and in fact she seemed quite bemused by the brunette’s continued resistance.
“Do you hear it, Camille?” Celia said casually as if she were not currently trying to wrench Cosworth’s neck. “That nagging voice of doubt in the back of your head telling you to look before you leap?”
The Girl of Tomorrow didn’t respond with anything more than a triumphant yelp as she stretched out those last few inches to wrap her palm around the bottom rope. Predictably, the Temptress continued to work the hold until the referee’s count had reached “FOUR!” and when she finally relented, she gave the brunette a parting rake across the eyes as she released the Crossface. That last cheapshot drew the official’s ire, and Merle immediately stepped between the imposing redhead and her opponent, FAWN’s junior referee delivering a stern warning to Blassenville as authoritatively as he could manage.
Unfortunately, he had once more turned his back to Camille and the nefarious nurses at ringside. Nurse Hurt immediately lived up to her name by reaching under the ropes and THWACKING the clipboard into the back of Cosworth’s skull, and that was enough to send the brunette rolling back to the center of the ring, discombobulated and hoping to avoid another hit to the head.
“Oh my, ready so soon? Are you sure it would not be more prudent to use the entire allotted time for a rope break?” Celia said disingenuously as she brushed past the nattering referee with a single contemptuous wave of her hand and stalked towards her opponent. “You truly ARE a remarkable specimen, Camille Cosworth.”
Of course, the woman in question wasn’t ready, not by a longshot, though she didn’t have much say in the matter when her opponent reached down to wrap a pair of vise-like hands around her throat and hauled her back to her feet. Blassenville released the Goozle before Merle could get on her case again, though if Camille had been expecting a reprieve, there was none coming when Celia slammed a knee into her breadbasket to double her over. The Temptress trapped her opponent’s head between her thighs in a Standing Headscissor, then she wrapped her arms around Cosworth’s waist. She tried to haul the brunette up for a Piledriver, but for now at least, the Girl of Tomorrow had enough left in the tank to stonewall her efforts.
Camille braced her palms against Celia’s knees and wildly bicycled her legs, never letting Blassenville get her more than halfway up, and after a couple of stalled attempts, the doctor grew impatient. She let go of the waist lock and raised her hands high overhead for a Double Axehandle Smash to Cosworth’s exposed spine, though that plan was quickly foiled when Camille powered to a stand and tossed Celia up, over, and back with a parabolic Backbody Drop that ended with a thud from the landing and a roar from the crowd.
Grimacing as the back of her shoulders crashed into the deck, Blassenville nevertheless rolled through the impact and was back up on one knee just a couple of seconds later. A couple of seconds might as well have been an eternity for the Girl of Tomorrow, however, and even as Celia was tumbling on the canvas, so too was Camille. She had dropped to a seat and rolled backwards over her own shoulders to get into range, knowing exactly where the Temptress would be without even needing to look. Cosworth came out of her backroll with her feet planted underneath her hips in a low crouch, then threw herself into another somersault, this one airborne rather than grounded on the mat. It all took a second or two at most, and Blassenville raised her head just in time to catch a Flip Kick to the crown of her skull.
FLIP KICK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ICFnT7QBXDQ
The redheaded destroyer shuddered violently at the moment of impact, then she slopped over sideways onto the canvas, her eyes staring vacantly at the ceiling lights. For her part, Camille didn’t seem to be doing too well either as she laid on one side clutching the shoulder that she had just landed on after having it wrenched about by the Border City Stretch. The Sisters of Mercy weren’t taking any chances though, and they each grabbed a boot to haul their employer out onto the floor before Cosworth could sufficiently recover to either attempt a pin or follow up with more high octane offense.
While this irked the referee greatly, Camille seemed more than a little relieved that her opponent had vacated the ring, thereby giving her more time to recover herself. Still massaging her stiff left shoulder, she rolled onto her stomach and saw Nurses Manners and Hurt performing a neurological exam on the good doctor, Kristin bracing the sagging Temptress upright while Deborah checked for pupil response with a penlight. Apparently not liking what she saw, Nurse Hurt produced a bottle of ammonia and wafted it under the Celia’s nostrils to accelerate her return to full alertness.
“Is that even allowed?” Cosworth grumbled to the referee, to which the man gave only a helpless shrug of his shoulders.
Upon seeing that Merle was not going to intercede beyond a providing a twenty-count, Camille forced herself up and ran for the set of ropes opposite of the nefarious trio. Bouncing off the springy steel cables boosted her speed to truly ludicrous levels, then the Girl of Tomorrow launched herself at her opponent through the middle and top strands.
Whether the smelling salts had an effect or she was playing possum the entire time, however, Blassenville was prepared. She braced one hand against Kristin’s shoulder and leapt up from the floor to counter the Suicide Dive with an elbow to the head just as Cosworth was hurtling out of the ring. The terrible impact drew a loud, despairing groan from the FAWNatics and stopped the brunette dead in her tracks, leaving her hanging face down across the middle rope and dripping blood onto the apron from a gash on her forehead.
Unlike her opponent, the Temptress was far less fettered with such notions as rope breaks or fair play, so she promptly affixed an Iron Claw to Camille’s face once more, this time digging a couple of fingertips into the freshly opened cut. At the same time, Blassenville cupped the back of Cosworth’s head with the opposite hand and pulled down to mash her throat against the rubber-coated steel, and the Girl of Tomorrow flailed and gurgled helplessly until the referee finally threatened disqualification and forced Celia to relent after four long, agonizing seconds. By the time that the official had freed her from the ropes and pulled her back to the center of the ring, Camille’s wound had become considerably deeper and wider, and now it drizzled fresh blood into her right eye and down the right side of her face.
“Oh, Jesus, Cam… That looks bad…” Merle muttered as he tried and failed to staunch the bleeding with a handkerchief. “Maybe you should --”
Celia interrupted by firmly shoving the man to the side as she said, “She’s fine. Aren’t you, Camille?”
Cosworth didn’t get a chance to answer before Blassenville hauled her to her feet by the straps on her top. She didn’t stay vertical for long, however, as the Temptress wrapped one hand around her throat and vaulted her high into the air before bringing her down spine-first across a posted knee with a Chokeslam Backbreaker. The Girl of Tomorrow bounced off the bony joint with a blood-curdling scream, then she violently arched her back as if electrocuted.
CHOKESLAM BACKBREAKER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_EmuK7abD64
“Do you see?” Celia pointedly asked the referee. “Her response to pain stimulus is well within normal limits.”
Not bothering to argue the point further, the Temptress swiveled into a seat on her opponent’s chest and began raining down Haymakers, each and every blow targeting the cut that was getting progressively worse with every punch. Blassenville voluntarily stopped after ten without Merle having to issue a warning, though that was of little comfort to the brunette who was now bleeding so heavily that she could hardly keep her right eye open. Even so, Camille found the fortitude to drag herself to a corner and she wobbled to her feet with the turnbuckles for support, shouting a resolute “NO!” at the official when it looked like he was about to call for a stoppage.
“Just as stubborn as your other half,” Celia coolly observed before she took off in a run and charged at her opponent with the right side of her hip leading the way.
Cosworth gasped loudly when the destroyer-class wrestler barrelled into her gut, but her abdominal muscles proved to be as sturdy as they looked, and she managed to wrap both arms around Blassenville before powering both of them back to the center of the ring to avoid being further mauled in the corner. That was as far as she got before Celia broke out of her grasps and pivoted behind her in a snug Rear Waistlock, perhaps in preparation for a thunderous German Suplex, though the brunette short-circuited the effort by wrapping both of her legs around Blassenville’s left.
The sudden counter left Celia unbalanced for just a fraction of a second, and that was all the opportunity that Camille needed to toss herself into a front roll on the canvas while pulling the redhead along for the ride. The Temptress landed on her stomach with a graceless face-plant in the center of the ring, but that was the least of her concerns as her opponent still had her leg trapped, and a moment later she received a painful reminder of that fact when Cosworth yanked back on her ankle to pour pressure into the Kneebar.
ROLLING KNEEBAR:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=7deNCcuX49Y
“A submission hold…” Blassenville disdainfully hissed through her gritted teeth. “How desperate are youuuUUAARRGH!”
The Girl of Tomorrow didn’t bother with a verbal response. She merely crossed her ankles above the curve of the redhead’s rear end, squeezed her thighs together, and laid on her shoulders while bridging her hips to start bending Celia’s knee in the wrong direction. The Rolling Kneebar was something Camille typically saved for sparring, and even then only when the session was explicitly limited to submission wrestling, but there was truth to Blassenville’s words. Cosworth had been taking the bulk of the punishment all match long, and she was indeed quite desperate to bring an end to the contest any way she could.
“Give it up, doc,” Camille huffed between deep, panting breaths, the progressive blood loss exacerbating her exhaustion and impairing the vision in her right eye. “Yoona and Lenore have rubber bones and I still get them with this…”
To put an exclamation point on that last statement, Cosworth wrenched back again on the trapped limb, causing Celia to roar in pain before burying her face in the crook of her right elbow, then the Temptress raised her quivering left hand to the great pleasure of the crowd. Merle knelt down by the redhead’s side in a flash, vigilantly looking and listening for a tap out or verbal submission from the trapped wrestler.
Unfortunately, for both the referee and the Girl of Tomorrow, it was merely a ruse from the manipulative doctor. While the pain was still very, very real, her exaggerated distress was simply her latest ploy to draw attention away from the Sisters of Mercy at ringside. Nurse Manners slid into the ring unnoticed by the official, and before the surprised brunette could react, she raised her clipboard high overhead and brought it down edge-first across Camille’s forehead. The blow opened the gash even wider to the point that it spanned nearly the entire width of her brow, and Cosworth promptly abandoned her Kneebar with a shriek as her hands shot protectively to her face.
It took only a fraction of a second for Merle to whirl around, although that was still enough time for Kristin to quickly roll back out of the ring. Having not caught the interloper in the act, the junior referee had a hard time justifying a complete disqualification, and after some hemming and hawing, he settled for ejecting both of Blassenville’s helpers from ringside. Both Kristin Manners and Deborah Hurt complied with surprisingly little objection as the retreated back up the entrance ramp, though it was clear that they had already served their purpose and then some.
“That was unwise to send away my nurses,” Celia admonished the official as she gingerly stood up. “Especially with Ms. Cosworth in imminent need of medical attention.”
Merle glowered at the Temptress, though he quickly turned his attention back to his other charge at the edge of the squared circle. He continued to wipe at Camille’s face with his handkerchief, now a deep shade of red rather than white, although whatever he cleaned up was quickly replaced by fresh blood gushing out of the wound.
“Cam, I’m -- I’m sorry. I can’t stop the bleeding,” he stuttered. “You need stitches, like, right now. I’ve gotta call --”
“NO!” Cosworth roared at the official, once more rebuffing his offer to bring an end to the ordeal at the cost of suffering a loss. “I’ve -- I’ve got this… Just gi -- gimme a ninety count...”
With that said, the Girl of Tomorrow forced herself to stand on wobbly legs as her bemused opponent watched from the middle of the ring. Camille wiped her face one last time with her left forearm to get the blood out of her eyes, then she extended her tremulous right hand towards her opponent, the index and middle fingers posed like a gun barrel.
Cosworth took in a deep breath before affecting a chipper British accent and loudly shouting, “CHEERS LOVE! THE CAVALRY’S HERE!”
No one had any time to process what she meant, but apparently that phrase was on the list of code words for the production team to switch to the ultraviolet lights. Simultaneous with the special effects coming on, Camille exploded across the ring so quickly that she might as well have teleported. Indeed, the only evidence that the Girl of Tomorrow had physically traversed the twelve feet of space was the fact that Celia Blassenville was now upside down in midair where she had been standing just a heartbeat ago, the victim of a lightning fast Lariat that could only be fully appreciated on slow-motion replay.
By the time the Temptress had crashed to the deck a split second later, Camille was already on the middle rope on the opposite side of the ring from where she had started. Cosworth launched herself backwards and turned a somersault with the greatest of ease, splashing down across Blassenville’s unguarded midriff with a gorgeous Lionsault.
LIONSAULT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=UD08KkYy5F8
Celia’s entire body jackknifed into a V for a brief moment before she fell back down to the mat, flat as a plank. No self-respecting destroyer would be finished by just a Lariat and a Lionsault, however, and Camille knew that. Rather than settle into a pin, she immediately bounced back to her feet after the hellacious impact and bounded for the nearest corner, then she leapt from the mat to the top turnbuckle with seemingly the same amount of effort that it took normal people to step from the street to the curb.
Once she was at the penthouse, however, Cosworth did something atypical in that she did nothing. She was normally quick to launch into whatever daredevil maneuver she had planned, never staying on the ropes for more than a beat or two, but now she stood still for one second, then two, then three, then four.
At first, the FAWNatics thought she was striking a dramatic pose. Thousands of phones came out at once to snap a photo of the Girl of Tomorrow, the special lights making her normally invisible body paint glow in a high-tech circuit pattern as if she had just stepped out of the world of TRON, though on this occasion she was less photogenic than usual due to the blood on her face appearing inky black under the ultraviolet rays.
Even the Gladiatrix photographers scrambled around to take some dramatic shots while the fans roared their support, and then the unthinkable happened.
Camille wobbled.
It was a small, nearly imperceptible thing, but for one normally as sure-footed as a mountain goat, that little sway was enough to draw a loud gasp of concern from the collective audience.
Sure enough, the teetering got worse as Cosworth listed dangerously to one side and then the other. The copious blood loss combined with the incredible physical demands of her adrenaline rush made her light-headed and woozy, her body already burning out after hardly fifteen seconds rather than the usual ninety. As a last ditch effort, Camille stepped one leg down to the middle rope, then she reached forward and blindly groped for the top turnbuckle to steady herself and safely dismount.
Unfortunately, her questing hands came up empty, and that was all she wrote.
The Girl of Tomorrow pitched forward, and fell from the top turnbuckle to the outside of the ring like a marionette with its strings cut. Thousands of horrified screams filled the air, though having already blacked out, Camille couldn’t hear a single one. After an eight foot fall that took what felt like a subjective eternity to the mortified fans in attendance, Cosworth’s body hit the barely-padded cement with a sickening wet THWACK, and then all was quiet.
Celia, who’d instinctively rolled in the direction of the ropes when she heard the noise from the crowd, came to a stop on one hip and glanced around in search of the bloodied brunette. Finding nothing, she honed in on the FAWN’tron just as the production crew killed the ‘Awesome’ lighting and cued up the replay of Camille’s plunge from the penthouse to the floor.
“Oh, you poor thing,” Blassenville murmured, her lips curled up in a smile like charring paper. “You started to think about it.”
Elsewhere, Merle had slipped through the ropes and dropped into a worried crouch beside his charge.
“How you doin’, Cam?” he stammered. “Oh jeeze, that’s a stupid question. Ummmmh, can you feel
your fingers? No! Can you feel your toes? Can you wiggle your toes?”
Cosworth frowned, not just because the ref’s voice sounded like it was coming from the end of a long tunnel, but because the question made no sense.
“Yuuuuhhhhhh... yeah Merle. I can feel my toes,” she muttered. “They hurt. So does everything else.”
“Just hold on a little longer, I’ll have the medics out here in a heartbeat.”
He stood, turned to the Timekeeper and would’ve thrown a signal if the Girl of Tomorrow hadn’t sat up like a corpse in a Romero film and grabbed hold of his belt.
“NO!” Cam roared. “I can stand… I can stand!”
She proceeded to do just that, her grip on the referee supplemented with a desperate handful of apron. Seeing the Girl of Tomorrow back on her feet earned a strong round of applause from the capacity crowd, though their mood soured considerably when Celia strode around the corner down at the far end of the narrow aisle.
“Mind-screwing witch,” Cosworth grunted as she took a step toward the ominous redhead.
“Stop it, Camille,” Merle put a hand on her gulping tummy, stopping the brunette for at least a moment. “You look like you’ve been in a car crash. I can’t let this continue.”
“Sage words from our usually dense official,” Blassenville commented as she closed the distance. “I’d take them under advisement, Ms. Cosworth. He is only looking out for your best interests, after--”
Camille dipped around the zebra, raced toward the Temptress and took to the skies, her legs spread in a narrow trap that ‘smecked’ shut around Celia’s noggin. Her ankles locked immediately thereafter and the Season’s Beating’s crowd dared to believe in a second Ninety Seconds of Awesome as the brunette torqued her hips backward and took Blassenville over with a Hurricanra-NOOOOOOO!
Blassenville locked her hands around Cosworth’s upper thighs and jerked up, stopping the ‘Rana dead in its tracks with poor Cam hung upside down, her head only inches from the floor. Celia kept her there just long enough for Cosworth (and by extension the crowd) to understand the peril of her situation, then she muscled the Camille back onto her shoulders, turned toward the ring and damn near broke her burden in
half with a Powerbomb delivered against the ring apron.
APRON POWERBOMB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=SOIzGWU3uTg
The Girl of Tomorrow gaped, her jaw hung open for little more than a wheeze because the scream inside was simply too large to escape her throat. She would’ve crumpled to the floor like a sack of laundry if Blassenville hadn’t held on and muscled her crumpled form under the bottom rope. Celia studied her for a moment, then reached up and grabbed hold of the top rope.
From there she boosted herself onto the apron, only to stop when Merle stepped in and said, “Don’t even bother, Celia. I’m calling the match here and now.”
“You keep saying that, yet I still haven’t heard a bell. Is that perhaps because the powers that be have ordered you to stay your hand? Perhaps, like me, those faceless suits want to plumb the depths of the well of resolve that powers the preternaturally acrobatic Ms. Cosworth? Or perhaps they, like the rest of these people, enjoy a plane crash far more than an air show?”
The referee had no answer for that, so Blassenville shook him off and eased back into the squared circle. Celia had shared this ring with several damage sponges during her FAWN tenure (that backwoods idiot savant Collins came promptly to mind) so she was no stranger to the occasional display of gutsy defiance, yet even the not so good doctor was surprised when Camille rolled onto her belly and powered to all fours. Genuinely intrigued by the question of just how much it would take to stifle the crippled high-flyer’s fighting spirit, the Crimson Cagliostro circled around to Cam’s noggin leaned over to wrap both arms around her waist.
The low moan from Cosworth was utterly absorbed by the much louder groan from those assembled when Blassenville dipped her knees and swung the brunette up onto the point of her shoulder in a Canadian Backbreaker. Camille wailed and shook her head ‘no’ to deny the submission, a gesture that would’ve been far more meaningful had the Temptress wanted her to quit. Instead she carefully shifted her grip from Cam’s chest to her chin, then stepped forward and laid out on her back to THAWHAM the
Girl of Tomorrow down flat on her back with an ingeniously delivered Neckbreaker.
GUTWRENCH NECKBREAKER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=9-8da56rjww
Beside her, Celia rolled to one knee and planted a single hand atop the brunette’s lacerated face. T’was a pin, true, but Merle wasn’t quite in position, so Blassenville administered the count herself. “ONE! TWO! THRE--”
Cam swatted her tormentor’s hand away, breaking the faux pin by the slimmest of margins.
“How fascinating. I do believe that your muscle memory is so strong that nothing short of perfect leverage or total unconsciousness could keep you down for a three count. It’s a theory I’d like to explore in more detail, but I fear our Mr. Merle might actually defy management and stop this match. And since we can’t have our noble heroine defeated in such an ignominious fashion…”
Blassenville shoved Cosworth onto her stomach, grabbed a handful of waistband and muscled her to hands and knees. Back on her feet shortly thereafter, the Temptress reached between Cam’s legs, laid claim to her left wrist and used it to haul the brunette into an exhausted, semiconscious Pumphandle. In no particular rush despite the growing determination she sensed from the referee, Blassenville slipped her left arm under Cosworth’s right bicep and wrenched it back to secure the last of her hooks. With Cam literally dangling in her clutches, Celia allowed the throng a brief moment of contemplation before she powered her victim up and over, Blassenville abandoning the Pumphandle at its apex to hook her left arm across Camille’s chest and drop back full force, thus THWHUNKING her adversary’s bloodied features into the thinly-sheathed plywood.
HEAD GAME II:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=8uPyAxE3Rb8
Cam didn’t bounce in the wake of Celia’s deadly Head Game, indeed she remained stretched out flat until the redhead hooked a Half Nelson and rolled her onto her back. Not entirely convinced of the other woman’s unconsciousness even then, Blassenville planted a knee across the brunette’s chest and bore down with all her weight while simultaneously capturing the far leg in a tight Half Matchbook. Merle didn’t
hesitate for a second, in fact his count was probably a little quicker than regulation as he counted off…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
The bell sounded and the zebra raised Celia’s hand at once, more to get her off poor Camille than out of any urge to celebrate her victory. Nonplussed, the Sinister Svengali offered the jeering masses a smile as the Announcer confirmed, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via pin-fall… CELIA BLASSENVILLE!”
Under less gruesome circumstances the redhead would’ve delivered a final message directly to her opponent, regardless of consciousness. Alas, Cam was in no condition to hear anything, especially not now that the long delayed EMT’s had finally swarmed ringside. Still, there was a message to deliver, so Celia strode over to the nearest camera and grabbed hold to ensure she was the focal point.
“You didn’t seem to have much use for the notion of fear as a survival instinct when first we met, Ms. Cosworth. I wonder if that will change once you wake to find yourself in snuggled in a hospital bed? Will all those new aches and pains bring even a small measure of sense to the Girl of Tomorrow? Or will you remain the same fearlessly reckless idiot you’ve always been? I do hope it’s the former. Because if you’ve fallen once, you can fall again. And if you fall again… fate might not let you get up.”
With that she released her grip on the camera and strode away, leaving the feed to focus on the handful of EMT’s tending to the gory, glassy-eyed wreckage of Camille Cosworth.