Josh Craven vs Black Rose

He knew all about the ring and the pool. Screw the ring and the pool, his attention was elsewhere.

"Ring," he said almost reflexively, though he almost bit his tongue when it hit him how poorly her wrappings might hold up in water. Still, a choice was a choice. "Single fall or tapout, yeah?" he said, tearing his eyes away from her pert behind to turn toward his duffel bag. Quickly he rummaged through it, picking up a small cellphone and punching a number he had on quick-dial to get a judge there on the fly. Astonishingly, it took no more than fifteen seconds for one of the female officials to burst through the door, slightly out of breath but otherwise ready to arbitrate.

She laughs. "Agreed, to pin or submission, strikes and grapples, though we should give the ref a second to catch her breath." She grins, ducking under the ropes and leaning against the padded corner. "Whenever both of you are ready, do tell me though." She crosses her legs, slouching and closing her eyes, going through a few breathing exercises, but mostly just relaxing.

Insufferably cocky, Josh did no such thing. Skipping up to the edge of the ring, he bounced over the top rope and onto the canvas, striking a little pose. Once inside he sized her up with a more professional outlook; trying to discern some kind of hints about her style. She was wiry, but that didn't have to mean much with her gender. It was harder to guess with a girl, he had to admit, and her appearance really didn't telegraph much by way of clues.

Still, if there was one thing every wrestler had in abundance, it was pride. Instead of sinking into any sort of stance Josh stood straight up, holding his arms out to the sides as he flashed her a smile. "I'll tell you what - I'll give you a free shot and we'll call it an even match, even if you're a lass."

"Can't accept that if I'm to prove myself? Can I?" She grins, standing up and coming to the center of the ring. She extends her hand for a handshake. "May the best wrestler win."

Shrugging, Josh gave his arms a few quick stretches before approaching her. He took her hand, and his posture remained loose and easy as he gave it a dainty shake, holding it almost gently. It wasn't really an athlete's kind of handshake, but rather something you'd expect to get from a car salesman closing the sell of a used Fiat.

"Sure, whatever," he said. "Can't say I didn't give you a chance, though."

As she slams his own knuckles into his chin, she spins away from his loose grip, laughing. "Shots never hurt as much if you're expecting them, anyways." She drops down into a mix of a boxing and a wrestling stance, hands up, but feet wide. She approaches with a quick jab to his gut, but doesn't commit herself too much. She can't count on him being off balance for very long.

He didn't see that one coming. It was more surprise than pain that sent him staggering half a step back as he took a handful of his own knuckles to the chin, but he shook off the sting quickly enough. His smile was a little shakier, but nonetheless there as she began to approach him again, his expression touched by a certain measure of wariness.

"Alright, good one," he admitted, rubbing his chin with one hand. Before he could mount anything creative in return a fist of her own was coming in toward his abdomen, and it was reflex rather than planning that saw him through. Taking half a step forward he took it square on his chest; his hands grabbing at her extended arm, attempting to whip her around into the ropes.

Instead of meeding him in a battle of strength that she was likely to lose, she doesn't resist the swing, instead grabbing onto his arm with her other hand. Can't have him dislocating anything. With a similar motion to the one she used on the crunch bar, she curls up, missing the ropes, and uncurling in the air, feet whipping toward the face he left exposed in his all out swing.

(Edit: if it confused him, it probably confused you lot reading it. Soooo(in slightly dodgy fast typing IM spelling)....

Pretty: I have no idea of what she just did.
Rose: oh, uuuuh, she grabbed his arm and curled up as he swung her, and, figuring he can't have much in the way of defense after acceleerating her like that, she launched an all out doublekick into his face. She's likely to hit the ropes on the other side as he lets go though.
Pretty: intelligable?
Pretty: So she was pretty much hanging on his arm kicking out at his face?
Rose: yes
Rose: in a controlled fashon
Pretty: Alright, I'm back with you.)

Third time's the charm, or so they say. Having been hit twice, Josh was just savvy enough to not get tapped another time in quick succession. Her feet grazed against his cheek, and although they left a scratch over his stubble they didn't achieve the dislocating impact she was hoping for.

Instead, the blonde-haired brit managed to hold onto his opponent, turning another half circuit and simply letting go of her like an olympic sledge thrower. It wasn't pretty, but there you go.

She crashes into the ropes, bouncing onto the floor and pushing herself back to her feet on aching arms. "Oooooh, now it's personal." She grits her teeth, approaching in a crouch, quickly feinting with a Tae-kwan-doe style mid kick, and, as her foot makes it's way to the ground, drawing back and launching a heavy punch towards his face.