Makie Akamatsu vs Blaise Cameron

Come on, stay down, Makie thought as she felt Blaise stir under her, his sixpack sliding gently under her as the teen stirred. The series of hits she had landed against Blaise's head should have kept him nice and stunned, but for all she knew the idiot might be as hard-headed and stubborn as Toshio. She held her breath and hung on, even as the ref girl's countdown reached two...

...and then, suddenly, he shifted hard, almost throwing her off of him. Rolling up to her knees, Makie took a few seconds to catch her breath, running a hand through her damp hair as the crowd roared all around them. She should have known Blaise wouldn't stay down so easily, she thought to herself. If he wanted to do this the hard way, then that was fine by her.

"Come on, new guy, stay down!" she breathed as she grabbed a handful of Blaise's hair, dragging him of to his feet. As soon as the two were standing, she would lash out with a kick at his gut, hoping to double him over, before rotating her body with a snap kick at his head, hoping to down him again or at least stun him.

Blaise feels her fingers weave into his similarly-damp hair, and he growls back, "Not.. a chance.." She pulls on his hair, and he automatically grabs onto her wrist to try to lessen the stinging of his scalp. Unfortunately, this leaves his body largely open - she lands her kick into his abs, forcing him to double over as she'd hoped.

"Ung!"

His body's been thoroughly abused this match, and it's really taking its toll - everything from his legs to the top of his head at least aches. His mind is focused only on staying in the match, forcing out the compounding fatigue, wear, and tear he's enduring.

Suddenly, she snaps a follow-up kick against the side of his head, issuing a light spray of sweat from the impact. The teen flows with the hit to a knee, followed by dropping flat onto his chest on the mat. "Nng..." His eyes rest shut, his ability to get back up not quite there. With no small amount of dread, he realizes he's out. Struggle as he might to will his body to move, the best he can muster is some light squirming against the mat, shifting his arms and legs a little.

Makie felt a tremor shoot up through her leg as her boot slammed against Blaise's skull. The crowd roared as the powerful teen teetered for a few seconds, before toppling onto his back like a felled tree. If she hadn't been feeling so weary at that moment, she would have wanted to leap to her feet, shoot a fist in the air, and rile her fans up. As it was, all she could do instead at the moment was slowly push herself upright.

As much as it surprised her, Blaise seemed done-- he wasn't moving, and was in the perfect position for a quick and easy pin. Throughout this match, though, Blaise's attitude had rubbed her the wrong way, and he had made this match too tough for her to simply give him an easy sendoff. No, she needed to end this match in style.

Standing up, she raised a hand to the crowd. "Start clapping!" she shouted. As her fans started to do so, she ran to the opposite ropes, clambering up, hoping that Blaise would remain too stunned to see what was going on...

Blaise struggles to roll over onto his back, succeeding - but only by that much. He sprawls out on his back to the tune of Makie riling up the crowd against him. It's an all-too-familiar feeling; him on his back, the crowd bloodthirsty to see him mangled, and him, beaten up and with another loss notched to his belt. But this time... this time, it stings more.

"Damn it..."

He urges his body to move, but it doesn't. He squirms, but slumps down again. He's been in this situation enough times to know his body has given in. He can only watch her, working the crowd up against him, gloating...

All around her, the audience started clapping. Many held off either waiting for Blaise to get back up, or even booing Makie outright-- the teen had impressed enough people that they were eager, for once, to see him win a match, to see him finally break his long losing streak and score a much-deserved win in Tension. It didn't matter either way-- she had only one thing in mind, and that was finishing Blaise off.

Climbing to the top rope, she raised her arms to her fans, preparing herself. Then, in an instant, she sprang backwards, somersaulting through the air and diving down on Blaise, aiming to finish him off with a well-executed sunset flip.

'Oh just do it...'

Bitterness is not native in the land of Blaise Cameron. It feels terrible. A part of him even feels like apologizing for thinking it. But a strong, conflicting part of him is just that: bitter. Fortunately, Makie doesn't make it take too much longer. She's in the air, flipping over, and-

"UNF!"

Blaise's body jackknifes inwards, folding around her briefly before settling flat to the mat under her. His head lulls aside, gaze half-lidded, breathing shakily beneath her and lying supine. The young grappler is beaten. His abs are crushed, on fire. He can't even twist - just thinking about twisting is painful. She doesn't weigh much, but anyone coming from that height with that much momentum is going to leave an impression, and that impression currently manifests in a caved-in sixpack.

The impact was more tremendous than Makie expected. She landed without any difficulty, but given their differences in size, she was still surprised when Blaise's body jacknifed underneath her as though he'd been shot. A part of her wondered if she'd overdone it, but she quickly quashed that part of her. She was in it to win it now, and by the looks of things, she was just about to win it.

For the second time that match, she angled herself across Blaise's fit body, hooking one of his legs as the ref began the countdown. "ONE..."

Blaise lets his eyes lid over. He doesn't want to see the lights overhead. He doesn't want to see Makie atop him. He wants to do the monk thing and have a little out-of-body experience. But alas, he rack'a dissiprin. So the teen is stuck there, breathing beneath her, enduring the cheer of the audience in the wake of his proverbial demise.

The pin is secured, and Blaise doesn't struggle. His leg is hooked, his bare thigh tensed in her grasp. Every inhale he takes presses his toned abdominals heavily into her body, rhythmic and deep. His mouth hangs a little open to accommodate, his arms splayed out to the sides.

When the referee strikes the mat again, the teen gives a hard swallow and squeezes his eyes shut a little tighter.

"TWO..."

Makie's heart raced as the countdown reached two. Blaise remained still and unmoving underneath her, his finely toned abs rising and falling gently underneath her as he breathed lightly. For a brief second, Makie expected him to resist, to get a shoulder up at the last second, to show that he was even more tough and resilient than she had expected.

It was not to be. "THREE!" The bell rang, signalling her win. As her fans applauded, Makie rolled off of the boy and onto her back, taking a few brief seconds to catch her breath. For a rookie, Blaise had still put her through a rough match. Staring up at the ceiling, she raised an arm to acknowledge her cheering fans as she slowly sat up.

Blaise, on the other hand, remains down. Over a year of professional wrestling, and still not a win to show for it. He's a rookie by Tension's standards, perhaps, but given the length of his career, he's anything but. But at least this match is over. He can move on, maybe go out dancing to get rid of the negativity, and continue fighting. The only thing he has to worry about now are the jeers and sneers of the mocking audience on his way out. He's carved out a niche of supporters in the Tension crowd out of pure amicability, but an overwhelming majority still view him as a scrub.

Blaise draws in a slow breath, holds it, and opens his eyes before releasing it again. The first step is just getting out of the ring. That might take a moment, though. His abdominals are still in agony, so engaging those muscles just yet is out of the question.

'Frig.'