The Arrival: Abattoir vs. Lucky Uchida

And the inevitable follow-up to the snapmare: the Fucking Unnecessary. The shock of a hit directly to the spine numbed Abattoir's limbs for a second, knocking the wind right out of her, but it was a familiar sensation. Being rolled around and twisted into all kinds of contortions was a bit outside her frame of reference - getting blasted with blunt-force trauma, though? That was like an old friend, and it ignited something cold and unpleasant inside her.

Slamming both hands down on the mat (both as a method of venting and a way to get some feeling back into them), the nak muay pushed herself upright and tried to stagger up to her feet, glaring at Lucky over the mask. The time for violence in moderation, it seemed, had passed.

Lucky's face melted back into a stoic glare as Abattoir slapped the mat. And while she would have loved to have gloated about getting under the masked girl's skin, she knew Macky would have for sure, she had kept Abattoir from recovering enough and she didn't want to lose the momentum she was building.

Lucky reached out for a good handful of Abattoir's hair whens he turned around and tried to help her up just long enough to curl an ankle around Abattoir's leg. Hopefully she could pull the girl back and then drop forward to face plant her into the mat. She couldn't imagine that would feel good with or without the mask.

This was usually the part where things got ugly for whoever Abattoir was fighting. The sabre would flash in the sheath, so to speak, and a flurry of strikes would maim whoever had dared to enrage her. This was more or less the scenario she was envisioning as she stepped forward, drawing back a giant roundhouse...and then Lucky just tripped her effortlessly, sending her sprawling on the mat. It was almost elegant in its simplicity.

The mask was a double-edged sword at times. Unlike the neoprene resistance mask she trained in, the replica respirator Abattoir wore for her matches (such as now) was hard plastic. Besides being intimidating, it'd caused more than one person to regret punching her in the jaw. But face-planting straight onto it, well, that sucked. Even managing to absorb some of the impact with her hands, she still took a nasty shock from the landing.

Lucky huffed as both girls dropped to the canvas. Hopefully Abattoir would be staying there. Lucky wouldn't. She quickly pushed the palm of her hand into Abattoir's back and spun her body so she was facing towards the masked girl's legs. She dropped her plump butt down hard on the small of Abattoir's back and then leaned forward, reaching for the leg she had been trying to work over earlier.

Hopefully she could snatch it up and lean back to put Abattoir in a nasty half crab. It was the kind of submission she liked. She could really wrench the hold and even if Abattoir escaped it, the struggle alone for this kind of submission was tiring in and of itself.

Here they were again. History had repeated itself.

Abattoir hissed as Lucky sank in a second half-crab, biting down on her tongue to retain her focus. The first time her leg had been attacked like this, it'd been rough, but now, with Lucky having worked it over further with the first half-crab and the calf slicer, there was a very real possibility that the damage would build up to something serious. She glanced around to see if it'd be a quick crawl to the ropes, but they were right in the center of the ring...

Well, time to climb uphill. Reaching forward and planting one hand, Abattoir braced her other hand against the side of Lucky's knee and experimentally pushed. She put more and more force into it, trying to unbalance the other girl and make it harder to plant her weight in place - the reason being, of course, that a second later she started clawing her way towards the ropes again.

Inwardly, she resolved to learn some better submission counters.

Lucky leaned back as far as she could when she applied the hold, sitting comfortably on Abattoir's lower back as she held onto the girl's leg and did her best to put the masked girl into a C shape. She threw her body back and used both hands as well as she could, gripping Abattoir's ankle with one hand and just below the knee with the other.

She could feel Abattoir beginning to crawl and test her balance. She didn't mind the shoving and it did work a bit, allowing Abattoir to crawl as she liked. Lucky didn't mind though. She would ride the girl's back like a turtle if she had to to keep the submission on and test out just how flexible the girl was.

She shut her eyes for a moment, clenching her teeth as she pulled with all her strength. "Geeve upuh..." She growled, speaking for the first time all match. She had shown how she could fight physically, but a little verbal encouragement never hurt. Especially when Abattoir was trying to focus on getting to the ropes.

The thing that would eventually kill Abattoir, that would get her stabbed in a barfight or euthanized by some more enlightened body of law enforcement or whatever unhappy end someday awaited her, was that despite her extensive training her impulse control didn't hold up very well under pressure. When she was in control of a fight, all was well, but as things stopped going her way she became increasingly likely to get riled up and do something unnecessary that would put her at risk.

Now was one of those times. As Lucky taunted her, her response was a wordless snarl and a series of elbows to the back of the other girl's calf. She had absolutely no leverage, though, and while they might've been unpleasant the strikes were by no means a serious worry for Lucky, who now had the opportunity to lean back harder and contort the nak muay practically into an upside-down V. Abattoir could feel the toe of her boot nearly touching the back of her head, and although she was determined not to give Lucky the satisfaction, a pained noise nonetheless escaped her.

She resumed clawing hand-over-hand in earnest, finally reaching the ropes and grabbing on with both hands. Considerable time had been wasted (and considerable advantage given up) by getting riled and throwing the elbows.

Lucky felt Abattoir's jostling body as she clutched the ropes. Lucky closed her eyes and listened to the four count from the referee before she finally released Abattoir's leg and stood up. She backed away and crouched low, waiting for Abattoir to stand up. Her eyes still held a cold look. She could smell blood in the water though. All she needed to do was clamp down one more good finisher on the masked girl and she had her, Lucky knew it.

She opened and closed her fists and her muscles tensed in anticipation. She loved the feeling. She felt good. it had been a while since she had really been able to show off her skills. She almost wanted to smile, but her lips remained frozen in their neutral position.

It felt like an eternity before the hold was released. Empires rose and fell in the time it took Abattoir to get her leg back underneath her and pull herself back up to a standing position using the ropes. She took an experimental step, and staggered a bit as her leg buckled. Great. And Lucky wasn't exactly fresh - she seemed to be breathing hard - but after going this long in a fight with Abattoir, most people were in much worse shape. This was...not looking like it'd end favorably.

Well, if nothing else, Abattoir was a firm believer in going out on her shield.

'Stand and bang' probably had a totally different meaning to most of the AFW audience, but the classic definition took center stage almost immediately. Shuffling foward with her fists up, the nak muay feinted to one side and then drove in with a roundhouse elbow towards Lucky's chin. It was kill-or-be-killed time.

Lucky was eager to try and finish Abattoir off as the girl approached. She needed to get her in one more submission. At least she HOPED it only needed to be one more. She was worn down from the hard fight as well and she didn't want the striker to get a lucky shot in on her.

So when Abattoir feinted, Lucky moved in, itching to grab hold of the limb and turn it into a pretzel. Unfortunately, it left her open and Abattoir's elbow slammed into her cheek and staggered her.

"Rrrgh..."

Lucky grunted and flashed an annoyed sneer at being it. Her icy stare broke and she glared at Abattoir, more mad at herself for being duped than anything. Her body tensed and she clutched her fist. She turned on her foot and heaved a hard, closed fist at Abattoir's chest. She wasn't so weary as to foolishly punch Abattoir's face. However, the mask girl still had couple of soft, and ample targets for Lucky to strike back at.

Lucky was hoping a strike would catch Abattoir off guard at least. It wasn't like Lucky was incapable of striking. Her best friend was one, more or less, so she knew HOW. She just didn't like to do it unless she had to.