AV 19 Valley Doll vs. Death Bunny

One never wants to engage in a striker's duel with the Bunny Reaper unless you've somehow amassed just as much experience in the ring as her, or you intend on being wise enough to sprint in the opposite direction once you see your strike not eliciting much of a reaction outside of blinding rage. Valley not engaging in either strategy after her reflexive face slap did naught but succeed in poking the bunny-eared bear, and she got the appropriate reaction via the white-knuckled fist popping her in the jaw.

Valley's whirling spin and wriggling weakness to her legs indicating that the Californian was was not going to remain upright for long, but nothing indicated the flipping backward kick clocking D.B. square against the back of her head and flush against her human ear with an arena echoing smack. Bunny's head lulled to the side and arms drooped, a quivering wiggle to her own legs before one attempt at stepping back instead ended with her falling flat on her ass. She propped herself to the side against her elbow with her other hand soothing the back of her noggin...all to a rousing ovation from the audience appreciating the striking clinic on display from two of the best in the business.

Ah, the Pele Kick. It was a staple in Valley’s repertoire, one that she used more often than just about any other move, and with good reason - save for one bad occasion in a tag match five years ago, it always worked. Always. Even against a bashing bruiser on Death Bunny’s level, it still had the force to drop her flat on her butt. Valley couldn’t have asked for more.

Wait. No. She could’ve asked to be in a position where she could capitalize best on the opening she’d just made. That would’ve been good, too, but apparently it was asking too much of gravity to go easy on her for a minute.

She landed on her upper back, not the most graceful of touchdowns, but good enough that she could roll away and see Death Bunny fall to her butt. As much as she wanted to take a moment to regain her composure, she knew she couldn’t just sit back. She had to keep this offense going.

Grabbing the middle rope, Valley pulled herself up fast and hard, rising to stand tall. She’d only been up for a moment before she leaped up with her back turned towards Death Bunny, shot her legs out over the top ropes, and let gravity take over from there - the back of her thighs hit the rope and she was sent flipping backwards, coming down onto the prone Death Bunny with an Arabian Press Moonsault.

Blindsiding chair-shots...glass bottles being chucked at the back of your head from half-way across the room...D.B. can say from personal experience that it was always the strikes you didn't see coming that left the most..."impact", on you. Be it from the lack of awareness to mentally brace yourself for the impending wallop to come, of from the lack of time to at least attempt some semblance of a defense. Regardless, she was unable to perform either of these handy reactions to the soccer kick cracking upside her head, and knocking a few screws loose to have this death machine slump right down to her backside.

"...motherfuck...right in the friggin ear..." D.B. let her frustrations be heard with a snarling intensity, shielding her ear and in rotten shape after being robbed of her equilibrium from where Valley just so happened to make kicking contact. Yet no sooner was she beginning to restore some semblance of lucid clarity to her dizzied sensibilities did Valley come flipping in from out of nowhere to have her toned midsection splash down upon Bunny's own. Earning the Californian a quick pop from the audience and a frazzled bunny girl huffing out air through her puffed cheeks before huddling over to her side, gasping for breath.

Surprisingly, of all the women Valley had moonsaulted on - and wow, that was a long list - Death Bunny had to be one of the more pleasant landings she’d ever experienced.  She was oddly soft. Must’ve been the breasts.

Regardless, the impact did its job, hammering her opponent into the mat and keeping her laid out. While the Slamazon seriously doubted the Haunted Hare had taken enough damage to be defeated, there was always the small chance the pin would work. Even if it didn’t, it would make her opponent waste valuable energy. And she was already in position, so…

Valley grabbed Death Bunny’s leg, hooked it, and leaned against her chest, prompting the referee to drop down and start the count.

”1…!”

Goddammit. This was the Number One reason why the Cantankerous Cottontail hated matching up against high-flyers. Because it's when you're already splayed out that they become their most dangerous. So spending too much time resting was ill-vested, meaning constant awareness of your surroundings and listening to that annoying voice in your head nagging you about getting your ass off the floor. All helpful tidbits of advice D.B. was kicking herself for not adhering to. Throbbing earache or not.

As for explaining the cushioned softness of Valley's landing, that may have to with D.B. having frame that was toned, yet supple...heavenly soft to the hugging touch but brimming with raw power underneath, akin to a mighty bear in hibernation...these being her girlfriends words, not her own. How Blossom still managed to fluster and embarrass her this far into their relationship was a mystery even D.B. didn't know.

For now, the Deathly One remained supine while an overeager Cali-girl pressed her luck by laying atop her with her leg hooked high and the referee doing his ring-slapping job. But no sooner did she get "1...!" off than Death would launch her arm into the air with authority, shoving the blonde off of her while tossing onto her front side. Pounding her gloved fist into the canvas and using that as a firm foothold to begin shuffling back up to her hands and knees, and further if allowed.

Kickout at one. Valley wasn’t surprised, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a wee bit disheartened. It wasn’t even one and half, a harsh reminder that she still had a tall, fluffy mountain to climb.

But this was good, right? After being swatted down several times, she’d finally managed to sting. Now, she just had to make it stick. ”Okay, okay…”

Valley rolled away after she was pushed, landing on her back, but quickly flipped over to her front, just in time to see Death Bunny starting to rise like the fluffy colossus she was. Not a good thing - as much as Valley wanted to just sit back and take a moment to rest, she knew that wasn’t an option. Not with an opponent like this, not with an opponent like this.

Knowing that her time was short and growing shorter, Valley sprung forward with open arms, looking to wrap her arms around Death Bunny’s neck and her legs around the woman’s waist, clamping down with a tight chokehold. She doubted it would be enough to knock her opponent out - though, God, would she love that - but if it could just slow her down, even a little…

...too much to ask?

Several seconds of breathing room wasn't too much to ask for in D.B.'s macabre mentality. Especially after getting soccer kicked right in her friggin ear, culminating in a ringing resonance in that eardrum and a vision blurring aftereffect that made kicking out of that pin attempt far more taxing that it should have been. But Valley was proving herself anything if not irritatingly resourceful and frustratingly clingy all of a sudden. Breathing haggardly even before Valley opted to hitch a piggyback ride, the Hellacious Hare scrunched her gagging face and wobbled from the added Californian weight latched onto her.

"...haah...haah..." Sweat droplets dotted the canvas as her ascension was stunted along with her airflow from the roughly one hundred and thirty pounds of warm weight mushed against her back like a deadlocked backpack. Divided fandoms backed their pre-selected favorites with cheering fervor as the action-packed match finally managed to slow down to a crawl, giving itself time to breathe. Neither breathing or crawling being afforded to the Bunny Reaper at the moment...but from her frazzled doldrums, a steady ascension started taking place until she had arisen to her wobbly feet like a ghoul from it's grave. What seemed like her gloved hands coming up to wrench Valley's arms off of her neck, was actually intended to keep the Cali-girl in place as D.B. went backpedaling into the turnbuckle behind them.

With the benefit of hindsight, Valley could see this wasn’t a good idea. Yes, she’d managed to get a momentary advantage on Death Bunny, with a heavy emphasis on the ‘moment’, but that hardly meant that her opponent was helpless to anything.

But at the moment, it seemed like such a good idea. Death Bunny was tough, sure, but she needed to breath, and if she could just clamp down on her throat, wear her down, she could turn this match around in her favor, maybe get in some good hits, even things up…

There was just one thing she hadn’t taken into account: The corner.

Death Bunny proceed to introduce Valley’s back to it in the roughest way, possible, slamming her into it and sandwiching her body, a rock and hard a place. The Slamazon cried out as the pain shot through her spine, making her arch on the impact, and taking all the fire out of her hold. She didn’t let go of her opponent, still had her arms clasped, but she could muster any energy to squeeze anymore. She was holding onto Death Bunny, draped over her shoulders like she was the world’s sexiest cape.

As the phrasing goes, "Hope springs eternal." But even the most optimistic of planning can be dashed with a smattering of cold, hard truth. And the truth was that Death Bunny was not one to be underestimated, or thought to be so easily wrangled in and subdued by a sleeperhold this early into what was going to be one hellacious gauntlet of a match. A keen sense of in-ring awareness allowed her to map out where they were in terms of their immediate vicinity. One summoning of her hardened endurance training later, and the Valley Girl wound up being an unwilling jockey soon to be compressed between the corner turnbuckle and the Ravenous Reaper.

D.B. breathing a hefty and panting sigh of relief from her plan working out perfectly, one gloved hand still clutching onto Valley's arm as she weighed herself against the Cali-native. But malicious intent followed soon afterward as D.B. unhooked Valley's clasp upon her neck but never relented upon her grip on Val's limb now twisted into an arm wringer. The Grim Hopper lethargically switching positions with Valley until D.B. was seated upon the top turnbuckle...before suddenly standing upright. A slack-jawed audience being witness to D.B. performing a seamless tight-rope walk from one corner towards the middle, balanced perfectly until she reached her destination and leaped off for a booming strike against the back of Valley's shoulder in her "New School" signature maneuver!!

If, in the past, a fortune teller had looked into a crystal ball and told Valley what was about to happen to her, she would’ve been understandably skeptical about the sightseer’s credentials. With good reason - it was hard to believe Death Bunny could do what she did without having seen it first hand.

Languishing in the corner, Valley expected her foe to go for any number of devastating attacks, work her over against the turnbuckle in a number of ways. Punches, kicks, stomps, maybe even a full body splash if she were feeling adventurous. Nope, not exactly.

The crowd - and Valley, too, as much as she could at the moment - gasped as Death Bunny proceed to take her by the arm, hop on the ropes, and walk them like a tightrope, showing amazing balance and agility that Valley would never have expected from her weight class. Weak and dazed, she could do little but be led across the ring, going all the way, until the show came to a sudden - and painful - end.

Death Bunny’s arm came down like a headsman’s axe, crashing on Valley’s should and smashing her into the canvas. She stayed there for a good moment, too, aching and groaning, while the crowd applauded Death Bunny’s show. At least somebody had enjoyed all that. ”Pfft. Show off.” Valley managed a small, pained chuckle as she rolled over to her back.