Flowers and Fisticuffs

"...*sigh*...Madam Bettencourt, I must implore you to reconsider. I am NOT an officially certified referee and-"

"Splendid~... Why I'd say that makes you more than qualified for the position considering this is NOT an officially certified match."

Gwendolyn reassured her hesitant assistant from a hallway of lockers beside her own, now affixing her wrestling attire by adjusting it's hem around the plump swell of her royal backside. The assistant in question struggling to fit on the referee's trademark striped shirt over her head after removing her suit jacket, wondering how on Earth she found herself in this position after all of this escalated from a typical meeting to discuss Gwen's upcoming schedule of social events and her stock portfolio...to her abruptly thrust into the role of officiating a bitter grudge match where it was apparent that only one person was holding a grudge. Luckily she'd been witness to some of her employer's matches and got the basic gist of her responsibilities...but was internally dreading having to potentially declare her employer the loser of the spar...and suffer the job endangering repercussions of that act. The distressed assistant scooping up her ladies' initialized towel and bottle of water before scurrying along to walk beside Gwen out of the locker room and into the training facility.

New Outfit~...:

"Sincere apologies for the delay, and for the abhorrent conditions of the gymnasium..." Gwendolyn commented with a mirthful smirk while making her dramatic entrance, every exercise machine sparkling clean and in pristine condition, yet still somehow considered subpar in the aristocrat's snobbish sensibilities. A prideful stride being taken towards the ring as her lavish golden curls bounced with each poised step, the heiress adorned in a variation of her classic royal blue and marble white wrestling attire except with padded shin guards instead of regulation wrestling boots. Still fetching to the eye via it's figure-hugging tightness, adding a royal allure to her queenly cadence upon entering the ring through ropes widened by her assistant...than placing down Gwen's towel and water before entering the ring herself. "Whatsay we make this a standard affair in terms of rules and regulations? No need to overly a complicate sparring match between good friends, you understand. What's more...*giggle*...I can see in your fiery eyes and enthusiastic mannerisms that you're more than eager to get this proverbial show on the road." Gwen remarked with a hand propped on her hip.

Gwendolyn's assistant began fishing out the ring bell somewhere underneath the ring itself as the heiress started explaining the guidelines they would be adhering to for the sparring match. An act that Gwendolyn was beginning to fear may be for naught considering the hyperactive giddiness evident in Kimiko's sparkling eyes, akin to a rambunctious child having ingested far too many sugary snacks and being told the proper safety procedures seconds before being unleashed upon an amusement park. Gwendolyn hoping that at least some modicum of what she was saying was breaking through that granite-like head of hers, but if not than it was no major loss. Matters would proceed expectedly whether this delivery person knew what she had signed up for or not.

"...*giggle*...very good. May the best lady of exorbitant wealth and refined elegance win~...Now, if you'll simply take your preordained spot in your corner, than we can-" Gwendolyn flinched in mid-sentence from Kimiko's flattened stomp upon the canvas catching her attention, milliseconds before what would be a balled up fist comes walloping her in her smug facial features...that is, had the quick-witted aristocrat not managed to seamlessly sidestep the strike while hooking her arm below Kimiko's. An elegant pivot with Kimiko's arm in tow would have the delivery person flipping overhead in an armdrag takedown...the slam alerting the assistant at ringside to glance inside to notice the match had seemingly begun proper, ergo she wouldn't need the ring bell after and instead just slipped inside the ring.

Having never spent an exorbitant portion of her time associating herself with children in the slightest, aside from whatever cousins and distant relatives dallied about the halls of her mansion during stuff-shirted family gatherings, Gwendolyn was obviously ill-prepared to converse with the rather gauche delivery woman before her. Although the heiress was dutifully prepared for this woman's flagrant disobeying of the rules of conduct by pitching her arm backward for an attempted sucker punch that Gwendolyn had zero intention of validating it's moniker. A poised, graceful, and naturally flawless counter seeing to that by flipping Kimiko about in a blur of royal blue and golden-ringletted hair...and one Gwendolyn stood up from afterwards with a glowering glare, stiff upper lip, arms folded, and imperious pout on her facials as she literally and figuratively looked down on Kimiko.

The unmitigated gall of this woman to not only shirk the preordained rules of the prototypical grappling spar...which in hindsight is quite the ironic offense to be had from a lady renowned for resorting to the lowest of lows to secure victory in her matches...but also to think so little of Gwendolyn's superior wrestling expertise that Kimiko felt it would actually work against her. Nettled...though she may be, the heiress couldn't help but acknowledge the strength in Kimiko's strike...and how irritatingly close it came to being plowed into the side of the blueblood's sophisticated countenance. Gwendolyn raised a perked eyebrow at this unforeseen development, and was briefly in contemplative thought as to whether this rambunctious rapscallion was even remotely aware of the veiled potential she had...but than Gwendolyn stopped deluding herself. Any assumption of this woman's intelligence beyond a grade-school level was a generosity assuredly overestimated.

"...*growl*...FIRSTLY...A sparring match typically commences after..." Gwendolyn would interrupt herself to point her index finger at her referee/assistant beside her, who would than hold up her cell phone to Kimiko to play a clanging sound effect pitch perfect to a ring bell.  "...the distinctly noticeable sound of a chiming bell. SECONDLY..."...Perhaps if you prove yourself an adequate enough challenge to an individual of my refined expertise, a position of employment could very well be bestowed upon you this fine day~...and FINALLY~..." " Another interruption taken on the heiress' behalf to regain her regal composure. Huffing out an exasperated sigh, pouting her prudish lips with a pretentiously superior uptick to her nose, fluffing up her immaculate ringlets...all before abandoning the pomp and circumstance through lashing out at Kimiko by spinning about in a Sobat Kick rammed into her adversary's breadbasket.

Lessons learned through pain are the ones oft-not repeated...Sagely words of wisdom hammered into a youthful and positively jejune Gwendolyn from her perfectionist ballet instructors whenever she lamented being unable to stand straight after yet another agonizing session under their tutelage. It was guidance that she found to be most enlightening given how often it rang true, and how it can be applied to much more than just pirouette practice. The heiress intending to instruct this dim-witted delivery woman in a similar manner by plunging her foot into Kimoko's abdomen with elegant force to drive the air out of this women's lungs and wipe all of that brash confidence out of that incessant smirk of hers. But the heiress instead had reason to balk and retract her leg with a raised eyebrow from feeling her strike thwarted by Kimiko's retracted bicep, Gwen's backpedaling soon afterward saving her from that very same arm being swung at her.

"Tch!!!" The feeling of air being sliced right before her nose clued Gwendolyn in to the degree of sheer strength Kimiko was putting into her strikes, and one she'd only scarcely managed to avoid by swaying backwards to have it only hit nothing but air and wafting hair curls. Though the ensuing grapple was not attempted to be avoided as Gwendolyn stomped into it with an entanglement of her arms with Kimiko's. A lock-up that practically had them butting foreheads as the blueblood strained her taught leg muscles to do her best at not giving up an inch, lest she take a mile. "You are...unBEARably naive...but also well-trained, evidently. Intriguing..." Gwen uttered with a competitive smirk and a flinched groan, swiftly tugging her arm forward and latching on a secured side-headlock. Bearing down on Kimi's head against her flared bicep and a certainly heavenly softness mushed against the other side of the deliverywoman's face.

Earnest concern was beginning to be bandied about within Gwendolyn's thought processes for her adversary's well-being...that is to say, for her mental acuity. Whatever I.Q. points Kimiko had managed to scarcely cobble together were seemingly an insufficient numeral when it came to comprehending anything but the most basic of statements. Especially ones that have little to do with fighting or some such manner of boorish physical activity. Hence Gwendolyn's utter incapability to levy a blasted insult against this scrappy irritant when they all seem to flutter fancifully in one ear and out the other, all while she was beaming with that gleefully inane smile of hers. A twinge of irritation causing one of Gwen's hazel to twitch when they were still locking horns with another before she'd opt to end the conversation with what she intended to perform in this lock-up in the first place. If anything it would serve to stifle that blathering mouth of hers and forego the probable migraine Gwen may suffer from should she continue trading words with the delivery-woman instead of trading wrestling maneuvers. Her back-handed compliments remained to be compliments nevertheless what with this brutish woman's capable striking prowess...which she intended to render ineffectual by rounding up Kimiko's head into a commanding side headlock. Robbing the brunette of any semblance of balance and bending her at an awkward angle to make delivering a strike quite the irksome conundrum, in Gwendolyn's refined eyes~...

"Why no, as a matter of fact. This is not mine own customary wrestling stratagem. On most occasions, I see fit to actually put in effort~..." Gwendolyn poshly retorted in yet another vainglorious attempt to belittle the flailing delivery-woman, one that the heiress attempted to simplify so as to perhaps become finally registered by this unfailingly dim-witted adversary. The heiress going into brief crouches before straightening up her lean frame once more for intensified reaffirmations of the cramped headlock, further smushing Kimiko's babbling face against her royal bosom to an embarrassing degree. Kimiko slathering upon her smooth skin like a suckling newborn and offering a different type of lip-service than the Boardroom Princess is accustomed to, bringing a mirthful smirk and a foppish flick to her golden curls until the delivery-woman saw fit to ruin the moment by blubbering flapping lips to produce a...sound naught to be described...and begin to incessantly knead her supple rump. Flares of a miffed temperament being ignited as she settled down from being jolted to a tip-toe by the groping handful, and transitioned to an arm wringer by shifting to her side while grabbing and twisting the brunette's arm sharply. An agonizing position she wouldn't have to suffer through for much longer as Gwen than hopped over that arm until it nestled snugly betwixt the heiress' creamy thighs with her backside settled upon it as well...all before a bare-footed mule kick would strike Kimiko right in the face before releasing her arm to make the experience much less enjoyable.