AV 19 Valley Doll vs. Death Bunny

After swishing bottled water around in her puffy cheeked mouth, the Macabre One spat it out into a supplied bucket she picked up. The taste of iron in her mouth clued her into having some manner of abrasion on her gums, but thankfully a few mouth rinse's seemed to do the job of stymieing the blood flow. Death making a mental note to try to avoid getting kicked in the frigging face so much as she gulped down the rest of the water. All the while aware of the pair of eyes burrowing holes into her back from her Californian adversary, but remaining calm while thinking back on the match and what had gotten her the early lead. Mainly bullied pressure that had Valley relying too much on what worked in the past instead of trying to be unpredictable. Along with a need to showboat, she guessed.

Still...that was close. A hare-second too slow and the score would be inverted. Death scolding herself internally for almost allowing that one to get away from her as she turned around and faced the brightly pink Cali-girl. The ring bell sounding off to get this show on the road for a second time, and prompting D.B. to steadily adopt her own grappler's stance while approaching Valley. Deadened and soulless eyes locked onto Valley's baby blues staring back at her as she strode up to her, being mindful of their distance and Val's actions until they were close enough to lock horns. D.B. doing so with a huff and a stiffened posture before attempting to clamp on a side headlock, one with torqued squeezing against one cheek and nuzzling softness against Valley's other.

Rethink, rework, reassess. Valley had a wall approaching her in the form of Death Bunny, and it had already been thoroughly proven that she couldn’t get over it through conventional methods. She needed to come at this from a different angle. Something more appropriate. Death Bunny was clearly ready for her usual tricks, but she had a deeper reservoir than many would guess - having wrestled for so long, there were precious few moves that she didn’t know how to do in theory, even if she lacked the build to properly execute. It was time to show off her range.

Death Bunny came in for the grapple and locked horns with the bigger woman, looking foolish as she engaged, as if she hadn't learned just how strong this woman was in the last ten or so minutes. She almost paid for the miscalculation, too, as her foe went to snag her head and came inches away from getting it.

Valley was ready, though. As Death Bunny moved for the headlock, Valley broke away and fell to the side, shooting out her legs and wrapping them around her opponent’s calves while she dropped. The moment she hit, she threw her body to the side in a roll, looking to bring the bigger woman to the ground with a slick Drop Toehold. Nothing fancy, but effective.

Veritable steam could be seen coming from Valley's ears given how much it appeared this woman was calculating how best to approach this situation. It was impressive, actually. All of the possibilities used in opening gambits were probably being scratched off her list one at a time in the scant few seconds afforded to her before she'd be thrust back into the bunny-eared lion's den. Quick witted judgement and astute critical thinking right in the middle of a fight was a talent not accrued without years of experience under one's belt, and they were the hallmarks of a calculating in-ring tactician...but whatever option she 'd settle on, at the very least, D.B. could surmise that Valley wasn't going to come barreling at her with a high dropkick like a bat out of Hell again. Not unless she has a short-term memory problem.

The Hellacious Hare stomped forward into the lock-up grapple and shifted her body accordingly while arching her spine, not putting her full-bore strength into ushering Valley back because it was a maneuver that nimble gymnasts like this Cali-girl could counter in their sleep. So transitioning into a side headlock and pouring on the pressure in that manner was going to be the gameplan...were it not for Valley speedily ducking down to the side and briefly out of sight. Bunny scoffing in agitation and lurching forward with a half-step before feeling both of her calves tightened down upon, prompting a balancing act soon afterward upended by Valley twisting to the side and to a timbering face-plant. The Bunny Reaper smacking her nose into the canvas, propping herself up on one forearm as she tilted her head back and shielded her scrunched face with her free hand.

Valley knew it was silly to feel so good after hitting a Drop Toehold, a move that had pinned exactly zero wrestlers in the history of their sport, but she could resist the rush when she pulled it off on the Contentious Cottentail, bringing her to the mat and finally getting her on the backfoot. She knew it wasn’t going to last, but that just meant she had to be fast and precise. Speed was her advantage, but there was more to that than just zipping around the ring.

In good form, Death Bunny was already starting to push her way up after the fall, but the position was Valley’s to do with as she pleased. She could’ve gone for a lot of things. The Boston Crab, lean an old reliable. The STF, a more effective, less flashy move. But this was Avalanche, the big show, so she decided she might as well bring out the fine china for her furry friend.

Crossing Death Bunny’s ankles together, she lifted the legs up and placed her own leg into between them. She nestled her foe’s ankle behind her knee-pit, then fell back and bridged over to wrap her arm around her head, capturing it in a facelock and completing one of the more spectacular, painful submission holds in wrestling: The Inverted Indian Deathlock Facelock.

Or the Muta Lock, to its friends.

Disoriented was quite the understatement to describe D.B.'s current state of mind, especially after having her nose jammed against the ring canvas at what felt like Mach 5. Assuming Valley was desperate enough to willingly engage in a test of strength with her ended up being the Bunny Reaper's plummeting undoing after she'd pincered down on D.B.'s ankles and made her eat dirt, more figuratively than literally. Her nose was killing her, but aside from that and some blurred optics, she was not worse for wear and began soldiering upward. Intent on making up for her aggravating misjudgment before Valley could-

D.B. balked from feeling her ankles crossed and began fidgeting in a scrambled resistance after looking behind her, shimmying left and right with a flailing hand swatting behind her and shoving back on Valley's rear to keep her from bending backward. Even reaching for the ropes that were miles out of her grasp. All from the burgeoning realization of what Valley was going for before it was locked in, and Bunny had her chin cupped by Valley's interlocked fingers and her neck wrenched backward for just, a whole new flavor of pain. Searing needles spiking up all along D.B.'s arched spine as she snarled and grimaced with gritted teeth, pawing at Valley's hands as the crowd marveled at Valley's skilled application of the Muta-Lock.

Locking this hold in wasn’t the easiest thing to do, especially when an opponent was sage enough to know what was coming. The move was effective once locked in, but getting to that point could be difficult to pull off. It tended to work best when your opponent was either too dazed to see it coming or too confused to stop it in time, and since there was no way the former applied to Death Bunny at the moment, she was hoping for the latter.

It paid off.

Death Bunny tried to fight the hold, but it was too late, and Valley was able to clasp it on, nice and tight. Sure, it wasn’t like she could make her opponent tap out, here, but the weaker her opponent’s legs were, the harder it would be for her to stand. Thinking long term was key.

”Your hair smells nice, by the way. Do you use conditioner?” She gave it a few sniffs and wrenched the hold. It would probably be a while before Death Bunny reached the ropes and forced her to break it up. Might as well make conversation. ”Good choice on the outfit, too. Thinking of making it a permanent change, or is this just your big match attire?”

Regrettably, half the strategy when it comes to escaping this horrendously agonizing submission, is dedicated to not allowing yourself to be ensnared by it in the first place. Flailing resistance, clawed thrashing...whatever you could do, you'd best do it. Because it was a maneuver not effortlessly endured, and one that could even have seasoned veterans tapping their heart out without even mulling over escape opportunities. So of course Valley just so happened to be an ardent expert at this maneuver who masterfully slapped it on with polished precision and speed. Of course she would...

"...tssh...WhaT're wE bEst fRienDs nOw?" D.B. bitterly muttered with her soft cheeks puffed slightly from the pair of hands interlocked underneath her chin, eyes sewn shut as her spine went aflame in needled pinpoints of pain with every torquing reassertion of the submission. Having her legs being trussed up like a ribbon meant she'd be getting zero help in the mobility department from there, so she pounded her fists into the canvas and under trembling arms started pushed herself up a few inches. Both to alleviate the pressure on her head, legs, and spine, and to start a lumbering army crawl towards the bottom rope.

”I mean, we could be friends.” Valley responded with a soft hum, as Death Bunny continued to struggle in the hold. She arched her back and pressed her tiptoes up higher, getting a little more torque into the move. ”I like you well enough. That ambush was a bit of a dirty way to get my attention, but I’ve made friends with people who did worse to me. My girlfriend even thought up a tagteam name for us: ‘Death Valley’. Not bad as names go, right?”

Valley perked up as Death Bunny started for the ropes, pulling her way hard towards them. There were no disqualifications in a Last Woman Standing match, but that didn’t mean her getting to the ropes wasn’t a problem - it would mess up the hold, first and foremost. So rather than wait for that to happen, the sensible thing to do was to cut her off.

”Come on, you’ve got this, almost there…” Valley waited until Death Bunny was close to the ropes, then abruptly let go of the hold and rolled off her foe. But that hardly meant she was clear and free - Valley popped to her feet, leaped up, extended her arm and came down on the small of her opponent’s back with an old-fashioned elbow drop, attempt to hammer her hard into the canvas.

"...mMPh...yOu gOttA learN a nEw waY to maKe friendS. bUt yeAH surE let'S teaM UP and aLL gO On A FUCKING douBlE dATe togeTHEr..." Distractions galore, D.B. swore to Christ. Enduring this excruciating submission would have been a whole lot easier without Valley endlessly blathering on with ceaselessly inane girl-talk like they were vapid teenagers tying up the phone line. It was torturous in it's own right, and this was without Valley softly humming right into her earlobe and sniffing her hair like some disturbed fanatic for whom court-ordered restraining orders were created for.

Her taut thighs tightened as much as every other muscle being flared into usage towards her squirming advancement. Valley's condescending encouragement setting her temperament aflame from being pathetically cheered on and made to feel like a hapless rookie in the clutches of a master. Such indignant rage fueling her efforts moreso as she seethed through gnashed teeth before being unhooked into a bunny-eared flop, panting wearily with the side of her face mushed into tho the canvas...and being shown little other reprieve once Valley hammered her elbow right into her lower lumbar. A bellowed groan, kip-up of her legs at the knees, and slight wiggle of her rump being the immediate aftermath, with D.B. massaging her throbbing back with one hand and turning to her side to offer a spitefully blushed glare up at Val coming afterward.

Death Bunny was being facetious, sure, but Valley wouldn’t have complained about a double date, really. She and Ace went out from time to time, but had never been able to find another two wheels to go out with. Seeing a woman like this in a social setting had to be a blast. She could imagine worse people to go cavorting with. And besides…

...wait.

”You have a partner?”

Valley asked this question a moment after she landed the elbow, honestly curious. What sort of woman would even shack up with Death Bunny? SHe’d have to be just as tough as the Harrowing Hare herself. Some kind of biker chick, tough, loud and boisterous. A fighter. All Valley received for an answer was an angry glare, so she saved the topic for another time and rolled off her foe. She was still a little worn out from the earlier beating, so she had to use the turnbuckle for support. But she could stand. That was the important thing. Could Death Bunny say the same?

Time to find out.

Valley leaned forward as she sat on the turnbuckle, hands on knees, watching the referee pass by. The official stood nearby Death Bunny and raised her hand for the official count. ”1!”