Nail vs. Annelle

Normal Match, No Disqualification
Pinfall, or submission accepted by Winner

The arena lights dimmed, and a sweet, intoxicating scent wafted through the arena. The strangely pleasant sounds of Arabian flutes and harpsichords started up, and a set of gossamer purple curtains rose from the stage area, pink incensed smoke wafting over the stage and ramp as the tall, curvaceous Nail Graves stepped out. She leisurely walked to the ring, casting a condescending gaze on the cheering crowd. She climbed onto the ring apron gracefully, and hooked her legs around the top rope, dropping to hang upside-down as her hands roamed her body.
With a quick, serpentine motion, she slid under the ropes, grinding her hips into the mat before pulling a flared handstand and hopping to her feet. Hand on her hips, she looked expectantly at the stage.

A second later, however, the lights went out. As the audience began to murmur amongst themselves, the creepy music of "Bela Lugosi's Dead" by Bauhaus began to play in the background. The audience collectively shivered, as though something horribly evil was seeping into the atmosphere....

The lights went back on, and the audience collectively jumped when they saw Annelle DeSade standing right in front of Nail. The devil-woman (or at least, so a lot of superstitious people suspected) stared at Nail, her brown eyes completely devoid of emotion. To the onlookers, Annelle looked for all the world like a bored aristocrat inspecting what her servants had brought her to eat.

"Hmn," Annelle finally said. "So you are Nail Graves. How...disappointing."

Nail smirked, running her tongue over her elongated canines as her eyebrows quirked.
"And you must be Annelle DeSade. How sad that you need to resort to cosplay to scare people."
Nail stepped back a bit, looking her opponent up and down appraisingly.
"Overall, not a bad try, but the wings are a bit much, kiddo."
Leather gloves tightened around slender, caramel-skinned hands as the older girl smiled icily.
"Shall we dance?"

Not even the slightest hint of emotion registered on Annelle's face as she stared Nail down. Then, finally, she folded her arms. The audience watched, baffled. Was Annelle deliberately leaving herself open to attack?

"Very well," she said, as the bell rang.

Nail slid smoothly into a forward step, bringing her right hand around in a hooking shot at Anelle's ribs. The shot was quick, and there was little wasted motion, but the arm was bent inward slightly, too far to apply the full force of the blow. Apparently, they were both feeling each other out at this stage of the game..

There was a flash of movement, and the crowd collectively gasped as Annelle, in the space of a single second, unfolded her arms and caught Nail's bare fist in the palm of her right hand. The crowd began to murmur in quiet terror to one another. Perhaps the rumours that Annelle DeSade was inhuman were true...

"Too slow," Annelle simply said, before pulling Nail forwards by her hand and throwing a karate chop at Nail's exposed throat. If the hit connected, Annelle would then procees to ram her knee into her opponent's sex.


(OOC: Sorry if that seemed a little blatantly unfair, Lord Burroughs, but there was a reason Annelle wanted Nail to attack first.)

Nail grinned darkly at the turn of events, her head whipping down and to the side as she ducked the chop. Her sudden change of position altered her center of gravity just enough to shove her fist, and the hand that held it, to the side, toward Annelle's left shoulder.
Nail napped her body upward, pressing her head under Annelle's shoulder and reaching around to clasp her right wrist with her left hand before falling forward to the mat and squeezing.
In this position, Annelle's shoulder was driven tightly into her carotid artery, and unless her right arm could somehow overpower both of Nail's encircling limbs, the Anaconda Choke would be locked in tight.

Annelle grunted slightly as Nail squeezed at her. If she was in pain, however, then she was doing an excellent job of hiding that fact. With a disturbing calmness, Annelle reached her free hand over and scratched her nails across Nail's face, doing so with enough force to potentially draw blood.

Nail grimaced and let out a sharp cry. It hurt, true, but in this position, with Nail's head braced under Annelle's arm, there wasn't much force behind the raking fingers. Still...
Nail swung her legs out in a wide arc over the mat, gathering enough momentum to haul herself, and Annelle back to a vertical position.
Snapping her arms, and Anelle's encircled upper body to her own once more, she rolled to the side, releasing the hold to toss the demon-girl into the turnbuckle.

Annelle now seemed to be genuinely in trouble as Nail got back up with her and tossed her across the mat. The demon-girl hit the turnbuckle back-first, and, although she did not cry out in pain, the way she was slumping over slightly suggested that that had still hurt.