The Crimson Legacy vs. Lock and Key - Smiling Faces

Key chewed her lip as she clamped down on Makie’s throat, shivering as the woman struggled in her grip, really enjoying the moment. This was an opportunity she rarely got to indulge in, a little chokeplay. Lock wasn’t into it, flaked out the one time they’d tried, and finding women who’d let her give it a try were a rarity.

There was something about it, the way the body acted when it was deprived of oxygen like this. The panic. The fear. The struggling. The dimming of the eyes. She could’ve had fun like this all day, just squeezing and letting her breathe and repeating the process.

Unfortunately, she didn’t have the time for that now. Rules and all.

She did have longer than most would’ve, though, as Kyo insistence finally prodded the referee into action, making her start the count up after an exasperated sigh. Each count had a longer pause than the last, giving more and more time, until…

”And your done.” Key finally let Makie collapse and raised her arms up high, stretching high. With satisfied calm, she moved over to the corner and slapped hands with Lock, who leisurely slid in through the ropes to take her place.

As Lock made her way into the ring, she perked up at the sound of chanting coming from all around, as the crowd rallied around their little heroine. It wasn’t the first time she’d garnered that kind of response - in fact, it was fairly commonplace back in the UK whenever they were pouring the pressure on a target. This was the first time she could recall it happening this early, though, and with such vigor. The Japanese had real, genuine care for their wrestlers. Touching, in a way.

Jack picked these ones well.

It fell on her to make the most of the moment, though, to keep the ball rolling. Even with their advantage, she couldn’t afford to let a woman like Makie gain her composure.

The referee moved out of the way and Lock came in quick, moving in on her rising opponent with a long stride. When she was close enough, she lashed out, bringing her leg up and down for an axe kicked aimed at the back of Makie’s neck.

The audience was right to be worried. Lock was quite adept at driving her kicks home to vital points and doing good damage with minimal movement. Even more so now that Key had done such an exemplary job wearing down their opponent. She was starting to look like a shell of the exuberant young woman she had been before, being torn apart and ravaged by the double team. This wasn’t some nobody that was being picked apart in front of them - no, the Tension crowd was watching the destruction of one of their longest, strongest talents. It was a cut straight to their hearts.

In other words, it was everything that Jack was hoping for.

It was tempting to go for the pin right away, and in normal circumstances, that would’ve been the play. The match was thoroughly in their favor, after all. On the other hand, there was no reason to rush this. As much as she liked to be clean and professional, they were here to make a statement.

Just a little more. Just a little.

Lock made her way over to the downed fighter, bent over, and grabbed two handfuls of her scruffy hair. Yanking hard, she pulled Makie up, trying to force her to stand, looking to gauge just how much life she had left.

Lock and Key had been bugging Jack to change up their attire, but he’d always been hesitant about it, wanting them to stay with their look, despite how much of a hindrance it could sometimes be. They’d gotten used to it, to the point where it wasn’t that big of a problem, and it rarely came up. Lock herself hadn’t had any troubles for years, now.

Not until Makie’s forearm shot up between her legs.

Lock squawked, an undignified sound that had no business coming from her urbane lips, and fell to her knees with her hands between her legs. Shocked, hurting, all she could do was lay there as the referee looked on, clueless, the strike concealed thanks to the billows of her skirt. The only real reaction came from Key.

”What the fuck?” She spat into the ring and shook the ropes. “What the fuck was that?”

Lock fell to her knees, hissing and groaning as the pain ran through her body. It was more shocking than anything, an electric pain that went through her loins, a surprise out of nowhere, and she almost wished she could kick herself for falling for it in the first place. Kyo wouldn’t have done that, but Makie? She was the smart one.

So. Options. She looked back to see that Makie was well on her way to her brother, making good ground on the journey. She could try to stop her…but it wouldn’t work, most likely, and she didn’t like her chances of taking on Kyo like this. Key was the tankier one between them, best to let her lead the charge against the fresh Akamatsu.

Gritting her teeth, she turned to her corner, crawled over, and slapped hands with her other half, who wasted no time leaping over the top rope into the ring. Growling, she made a mad dash towards Kyo with her arm drawn back, looking to hit him with a solid blow right as he was coming into the fight.