Mitsuru 'Izanami' Satou vs. Armando 'Army' Rodriguez - It Takes Two

Army closed in, swung his arm out long and wide, looked like he might actually connect, and...swing and a miss. "Fuck!"

He'd already started to turn around once more when Mitsuru's followup kick caught him in the leg, tripping him up before he could even get all the way around. Army wound up tumbling down on his side and rolling over to his back from there. He wasn't hurt, but that was really the worst part of it all - he was tiring himself out more than anything. Sweat was pouring down his chest, his hair was a matted mess, he looked like he'd been through about six rounds, and she still looked daisy-fresh. Like she'd just walked out of a shampoo commercial.

Army started to sit up once again, sincerely hoping that Carmen wasn't watching this. Or Felina. Or Amy. Or Ro. Or Clyde. Or, really, just about anyone he'd ever interacted with since coming to Japan.

Army was down, that was good, but he still wasn't out. He was sweating like a marathon runner and breathing like one too, which meant she was getting closer and closer to being able to freely take him out. To that effect, Mitsuru came after the downed Puerto Rican quite quickly.

She slid onto her knees to get behind him in time to be able to wrap her arms around his neck for a chokehold. If she could manage it, she'd also work at getting a bodyscissors in place around his thick torso. She wasn't completely confident that this would end the match, but ideally she'd choke him long enough to make a difference.

"Tired already dear?" she grunted softly as she tightened her grip. Even like this if he got a good grip he could probably throw her off if she wasn't latched on well enough.

Army had just started to get up when her felt Mitsuru’s slender arms wrap around his throat from behind, locking in tight. Her thighs followed a moment later, coiling around his waist like a pair of pythons, and then came the squeezing. He had to give it to her - for someone her size, she had a surprising amount of power in both fronts, upper and lower body, enough to make breathing a real ordeal. He could barely wheeze, much less responding to her taunting words, spoken right in his ear.

He was in a bad spot. Yup. But there was absolutely no way he was getting choked out like a bitch between some chick’s thighs. Army straight up refused that fate.

Grinding his teeth down hard, Army started to surge forward, pulling hard and trying to stand up Mitsuru be damned.. He was strong enough to get back up with her hanging on, the only question was whether she’d stay on for the ride or not.

Mitsuru wasn't squeezing the chokehold for nearly enough time to be satisfied before Army was trudging up to his feet again. She made use of what little time she was given to squeeze with all her might, but once Army had gotten back to his feet, it was pointless. While it might be hard to dislodge her manually, he had any number of options to solve his Mitsuru problem, including just crushing her under his natural weight.

She unlocked her bodyscissors first and planted her boots in the backs of Army's thighs to stabilize herself. She gave him a quick stomp to the back of his right knee before releasing the choke itself and quickly backing away.

"Looking tired there, eh Army?" she asked with a grin as she got back into her karate stance. He was tired, he had been injured repeatedly, now all that was left was to find a way to utterly seal the deal.

Army’s plan - as much as he could plan in his current state of mind - was to run back into the turnbuckle and sandwich Mitsuru into the corner with all of his weight. Gauranteed to do plenty of damage and change the tide back in his favor for once. But, as expected, Mitsuru was Mitsuru, and that meant she stayed one step ahead of him at all times. She was off before he could even start to move away, and all he got for the effort was a hard kick to his leg and another irritating little taunt.

”Shut the fuck up!” Army sloppily slung his body around on his good leg and lunged for Mitsuru, throwing a wild right hook towards her head. It wouldn’t likely hit. He knew it wouldn’t. But fuck, he had to try something with this woman. She was right. He was getting tired, his body was starting to feel the wear and tear, and he knew he was getting close to the danger zone...

The matadora continued to bait the bull-headed human, and for some reason, he continued to take that bait every time. He swung with a wildly powerful but horribly inaccurate fist, under which Mitsuru ducked and threw a smaller but more precise counter punch into his obliques. Once behind him she stayed on the move and threw herself into the ropes.

Once she'd bounced back with increased speed, she jumped into the air and spun like a human drill. It was still your old-fashioned drop kick, but it was flashier, it looked cooler, and if she pulled it off, it definitely won her more than a few new fans.

And now came the laughing. Army expected it, the way things were going, knew how fickle wrestling fans could be, but it was still annoying to hear some of the same people who’d been on his side a few minutes ago having a few chuckle at his expense. Not that he could blame them, too much - after all, he probably did look pretty stupid, swinging out like that and getting tagged in his stomach with ease.

Even though he knew he would be too slow for it to make a difference, he spun around after Mitsuru raced off behind him, just in time to see her come flying at him like a living rocket, aimed right at his chest. The blow struck dead center and sent him staggering away, right into the corner with surprising force from someone so light.

He might’ve been able to stand up afterwards, if his leg hadn’t just withstood some serious punishment. Now, it was too hurt to support him for long, and he flopped down flat on his butt with his back against the turnbuckle pads.

Mitsuru rushed to get to her feet after her dazzling drill dropkick just in case it wasn't effective, but thankfully Army was having trouble of his own. In truth she felt lightheaded and dizzy a bit, which meant that move needed some more practice outside the ring before she officially added it to her repertoire. It was likely only this effective because of the cumulative damage Army had sustained, as the spinning took away some of the force a normal dropkick could apply.

She sauntered over to him and waisted no time in grabbing a fistful of that black head of hair to haul him up to his feet. She prevented him from fully standing up by yanking backward on his hair, forcing him to stay bent over as she lead him a few steps closer to the center of the ring. From there she did her best to get her arms under Army's huge ass biceps and lock her hands on his back for a double-underhook. If she could manage this, she'd be able to finish setting him up for a nasty butterfly DDT, and all that was left was to fall back and let gravity and Army's own body do the rest of the ass-kicking for her.

Army was so out of it that he didn’t even realized Mitsuru was nearby until he felt her fingers through his hair, getting a tight grip. If she’d tried that at the start of the match, he’d have batted away her hand and given her a slap for the trouble. But now he was on his knees, his head was in another city, and he was getting lead around the ring like a sleepy dog.

He managed to keep up with her, just barely, stumbling across the ring as she backed away to the center of the ring. Mitsuru was holding him in weird way, and he didn’t figure out why until she jerked back and brought his head crashing into the mat.

She didn’t weigh all that much, but it didn’t matter when you were talking about head injuries. The pain seemed to travel down his spine, and he laid on his front as he cradled the spot where Mitsuru’s attack landed. He wasn’t just hurting, either. He felt sick. Dizzy. Discombobulated.

Army seemed to just slump into a mountain of man and muscle after being on the receiving end of that nutterfly DDT. Mitsuru ran a hand through her hair as she sat up on her knees with a grin, she'd finally gotten the big boxer to go down and stay down. This was her best opportunity yet to go for a pin, as the chance Army was faking his stupor seemed unlikely.

Mitsuru slid over and rolled him onto his back, spreading his arms out to either side so he was spread eagle. Always thinking of the future, this would make for a nice aerial shot she could put in a montage later. Mitsuru then lifted a leg and swung wide so she could straddle his broad chest. She then leaned back and with a grunt, lifted his legs forward with a grip behind the knees. She was going to pin him in the most emasculating way she thought possible, her straddling his chest while his ass and legs hung in the air.