Gaining Momentum - Simone Mackenzie Skyles vs. 'Bouncing' Betty Buchanan

‘Have some fun’. ‘Feel her out’. ‘Play with her a bit’.

Right.

Betty’s idea of fun traditionally involved illegal substances, parties in parts of the city that most people avoided, and situations that ended up with her struggling to find her clothes in the morning. Not dancing with some little tart around the ring, dragging this out longer than it needed to be. She didn’t drop money on this fight for it to be a pain in the ass.

But fine. Okay. Fine. She’d stick to the plan. At least in this round.

To be fair, it seemed to work out well, as her opening volley managed to drive Mackenzie back. Nothing too serious. No real damage done. But that guard wasn’t the best and Betty was confident she could crack it. Just to bring the right tool for the job.

When Simone backed away, she closed in with a lung, a long step that brought them into striking range in a hurry. She threw out a feint with her left hand, looking like she was going for a jab, only to drop right after and come from below with the real punch: an uppercut, aimed at Betty’s stomach.

Still testing, yes. Just more aggressive, now.

Betty seemed like she had a bit of a temper, and Simone made a mental note to watch out for that, and exploit it if she could, as the match wore on. Ultimately, it might be that testing her pink-haired opponent as she was was not an ideal strategy, serving to only anger Betty without putting her down to bed. After the pinkie showed no real reaction to Simone's second combination, the duskier pugilist brought her guard up tight, ready for a counter. And Betty swooped in, bringing her left forward...

...but not only was it not the power punch of a combination, it wasn't even a punch! The feint was something Simone probably should have expected, but she honestly was not expecting such tricky, smart play so early from this opponent. That right uppercut came in low, underneath Simone's guard, and in an instant she had to make a decision. Should she try to lessen the blow?

Or...should she make a trade?

As a southpaw, Simone couldn't help but notice a perfect open lane right into the right side of Betty's face. It was a snap decision, and a painful one, but she made it, and she made it fast. The Chicago native swung her left arm forward, sending a hook hurtling in toward Betty's face, trying to smash her green glove into the side of that cute head with near-full force, as she felt that uppercut drill right into her upper stomach, eliciting a jerky groan of pain from her as she was lifted slightly and nearly drenched her foe with a rain of spittle.

It hurt like hell, sure, but hopefully her punch hurt Betty, too. And who was to say who would get the better end of the trade?

Betty was, in all likelihood, going to hear a mouthful about busting out the drop-feint so early into the match. Lara didn’t like it when she started off to strong, wanted her to keep the better tools for the latter half of the fight if it went that far, and she wasn’t wrong to think that way.

If anything, Simone was the one at fault, here. She shouldn’t have had such a cute face. Made Betty even more determined to make it scrunch up in pain.

For half a second, it looked like she’d succeeded on that front, too. Her uppercut sunk deep into Simone’s stomach, tore into the flesh and sent the spit flying in a glorious burst, one that would surely have her reeling. Betty was already thinking of all the ways she could capitalize, too, how she could press her advantage. Good stuff.

It all came crashing down a half second later, when Simone’s left fist cracked her upside the head with a vicious impact, one that had Betty’s head jerking hard to the side.

Damn. Southpaws.

Whatever window she’d created would have to go to waste now. Betty was far too busy stumbling back from the blow, raising her guard out of pure reflex with the fog cleared from her brain.

Simone was lifted up, had the spit and the air forced from her body as that uppercut drilled into her torso with nearly enough power behind it to send her flying. It was rough, but Simone had known it would hurt. She just needed to make sure that Betty was hurt, too. And she was! Simone almost wished she hadn't settled for a trade, that she had tried to evade that uppercut so she could whack the dazed pinkette all around the ring.

Oh, well. Betty was probably wishing the same thing, as Simone couldn't do anything more than stumble backward, bent over where her opponent's glove had drilled right into her belly, her legs shaking slightly as she raised her gloves up in front of her face and focused on catching her breath, dragging in oxygen in ragged gasps as she peeked over her green leather at Betty, who seemed to be in a similar spot, a wide gulf having opened up between them as both of them had been staggered by that exchange.

Simone's breathing was slowly beginning to normalize, and as it did she would straighten up and begin to move again, slowly making her way forward, circling around to her left, waiting to see what Betty would do following that exchange. "Uuhhff...not bad!"

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Betty wasn’t sure whether or not she got the worst of that exchange. She really hoped that wasn't the case, though, because the idea of Simone suffering more than her brought a warmth to her heart. Either way, it definitely sucked a great deal on her end and left her reeling.

But, the good news? There was an opening to take, now. So maybe it was worth it. When the fog cleared, she could see that Simone was just now getting on track again, coming in slow to close the gap. An opportunity, moving right towards her. How about that.

She could hear Lara bitching about it already, but screw it, there was no way she was letting a chance like this pass her by. Betty gritted her teeth and charged in fast to meet Simone, throwing out a hard right cross on the approach, looking to push her back, and following up with another right cross after that to keep pushing her back. She also threw in two words for a response to Simone.

”Fuck! Off!”

Both of them had taken some damage during that exchange, that was for sure. Simone couldn't say for certain who had gotten the worst of it, but, as she took a deep breath and shook out some of the aches from her body, she had to say she felt pretty good. She had liked the punches she hit Betty with, too, which said to her that the pink-haired woman might just have gotten roughed up more than she. As she moved in, circling to her left, she was ready for plenty of pain, but after that exchange she was confident that she could hurt her foe more than Betty could hurt her, and her confidence let her get in close, and fast, invading Betty's personal space with impressive speed!

Betty was not just going to wait for her, though. The pinkette charged in, and started swinging before Simone could think about targeting that pretty face with a punch, probably because Betty's punches were not really thought through. Hard rights, directed right across her body, smashing straight into Simone's guard as the southpaw circled to her left, the blunt force of the blow stopping her from walking any further forward. The next punch even succeeded in backing her up, but only by a single step, as she reluctantly ceded ground to an evidently grumpy foe. "Sheesh, lighten up a little..."

Not liking the fact that she was backed up, Simone would respond with a hard right jab, aimed at the lower half of Betty's face, trying to blunt her momentum, too!

Simone blocked her punch, which made Betty want to hit her even more, which made her punches wilder, which made them easier to block, which made Betty wanted her even more, which made her punches wilder…

Round and round they went.

Somewhere behind her Betty could hear shouts from her corner, no doubt telling her to slow down, hold back, play it safe. Betty ignored it and pressed on, sure that she had Simone right where she wanted her. Just had to work up a rhythm, press on, keep up the pressure.

The jab came in like a flash, slicing into Betty’s vision, crashing hard against her face. It might not have seemed much to the casual viewer, but it had good timing, good impact, good drive. It landed flush on Betty’s face and made her lurch, almost taking a step back before she gripped her fists tight and came at Simone again, with more fury.

This time she came low and to the side, lashing out with a quick hook aimed at Simone’s ribs and following it up with a twin the second after.

Simone's punch landed right where she wanted it, and it seemed to affect Betty even more than the Chicago native had hoped it would. The girl looked stunned, and wobbled back on her feet, about to lose her balance and stagger back, giving Simone an opening to start backing her opponent up, reclaiming her lost territory and more. The darker-skinned boxer would move forward, gloves up, taking aim at Betty's eye level, but not telegraphing anything just yet...

...but Betty didn't take the steps back that Simone expected. She wobbled back, then wobbled forward again, keeping them close, Simone stepping into space which only barely existed—and which was soon filled with her opponent's white leather, as Betty launched one hook into her ribs, tenderizing Simone's belly, and following it up with a second one which bent Simone over slightly, her face contorted in pain as a wheeze escaped through her lips, draining her of oxygen!

"Oounghf!"

Betty needed to knock Simone down in the first round. Didn’t want to, mind you - well, she did, but not just that. It went beyond her desire to just win this match and get her name in circulation.

No, more than that, she needed to start this match and this whole tournament off with dominating fashion, really establish herself as a force to be reckoned with. That wouldn’t happen if she played it safe, that wouldn’t go down if she took her time. She needed openings, and after some persistence and patience, one presented itself.

Her shots landed, nice and clean, and the result was Simone being stunned and bent over, leaving her open - maybe open enough for something big. She saw her chance and went for it, taking a step to the side, winding back, and swinging around with a big hook aimed at her opponent’s temples.

But she wasn’t just going for any spot. Betty was aiming for that tender little area right below the ear, hoping to mess up Simone’s equilibrium and leave her stumbling. With time ticking down and the round coming to close, it wasn’t a sure-shot, but she liked her chances.

Betty's sudden, unexpected rally had managed to catch Simone off-guard, the Chicagoan not expecting a wobbling, staggered opponent to all of a sudden lurch forward like a zombie and start swinging. She was caught by a couple of hooks to her midriff, forcing her to bend over that white leather, air escaping from between her lips as Betty would take a step back and line up for something big. Simone didn't know exactly what it was, and she was still sucking air, still a vulnerable target, not fast enough to beat Betty to the punch.

Her mother had taught her so many things over the years, from riding a bike to doing taxes. She taught Simone plenty about boxing, including intricate, little details, about footwork, fighting against southpaw and orthodox fighters, how to throw a girl off her rhythm, what spots on her torso were the most vulnerable when punched in just that right way.

But one of the first things Simone ever learned from her was the advice she needed right now: Keep your damn gloves up!

Simone brought her guard up, green leather catching Betty's big hook to her temple. Her gloves shoved into her own face, sure, and she stumbled backward, head ringing, still recovering all that air she needed. But it was better than going down. As she neared the ropes, she would try to straighten up and get back into a real stance, gloves up in front of her. She was hurt, but it was better than going down. Better by a long shot.