Demand Match: Adrian Knight vs. Makoto Takeda - Date Night

Damn it, he was up again. Moving a little slower than before, yes, but with them on the same ground once more he'd still be a pain in the ass. She shook her head as he stood there, waiting for her to move in, wisely conserving his energy. If she was going to take advantage of the weaknesses she was making, she'd have to bring the fight to him.

She took a quick step his way, bucking at him to mess with his reflexes, then ran straight at him once more with her thundering boots. This time she didn't have any little tricks or fancy moves or off-the-wall attacks to badger him with - no, she lacked the energy for any of that, wasn't going to waste what little hydration her body had left on something that was likely to blow up in her face. She was coming at him with nothing but straight up, undiluted brute force, and if Adrian couldn't stand up to the bum rush, he'd get knocked over or knocked out.

She lashed out with two quick jabs aimed as his chest, then followed them up with a hard right cross, filling each shot with all the malice she could muster. "Drop!"

He watched her carefully for as long as she planned to wait to attack. All the while he took slow, measured breaths to try and get his breathing under control. Though the extreme humidity of the boiler room didn't help in that task.

As she moved to stand, so did he, still favoring one leg. He wisely kept the injured leg pulled back a short ways to make it harder to take advantage of that weakness. Despite his injuries, he was glad she'd decided to take it back to a striking game. He'd been doing much better standing up than on the ground thus far.

As she charged in, he braced himself for impact. Dropping his guard low, he stopped both forearms down to block. As they hammered in, he winced with each strike. The bruising on his forearms was already becoming visible. As the final punch came in, he took what might be the last shot he'd get at ending this. "Good idea!" He ducked under the punch quickly, kicked off his good leg and rocketed forward, looking to land one of his signatures, Crash & Burn by first spearing her to the ground and then attempting to coil his arms around her neck into an arm triangle choke.

Fucking blocking!

Okay, getting pissed that he blocked her head-on punches was a bit silly, she realized that, but the common sense of his defence didn't make it any less annoying to deal with. But, one way or the other, she was cracking his shell, even if she had to hammer away at that wall until she passed out. Which might be fairly soon, if the growing cramp in her side was any indication. She wanted him in relatively good condition when all this was over and had hoped to keep the hospital out of this, but it was starting to look like this wasn't going to be a case of her getting what she wanted.

Case in point: She definitely didn't want to get pounded into the ground by his spear, but that's exactly what happened. She hit the floor hard as the breath was knocked clean out of her, and his arm was around her throat before she even had the chance to replenish it. Quickly growing desperate, she tried to throw some short hooks into his side while she writhed beneath him and spittle came out of her mouth in short spurts, her eyes screwed shut from the pain.

The strange part was, he'd never been much of a defensive fighter, but she'd brought it out in him. He'd never fought anyone quite as relentless as himself. It was an admirable trait, he had to admit. He'd known he had to stop her barrage before she'd manage to penetrate that defense though, and that moment had been rapidly approaching.

He grinned to himself as his spear connected, sending her crashing to the grated floor once more. Though she was lucky she hadn't hit quite as hard as he had previously. He could still feel where the grate had scraped across his back, the sting of the sweat mingling with light bleeding and broken skin. Once they'd hit, he moved quickly and wrapped her up, securing his signature. As the shots came into his ribs, he winced and grunted with each shot, but bore down on his choke as tight as he was able. "Give it up... or pass out...." He wheezed out, clearly exhausted and having trouble catching his breath, but at least his wasn't being choked off.

Then, the thought came to him to remove himself from between her legs before she could trap him and look to get into the mount position. If he didn't manage to hang onto the choke, he could, at least, quickly switch to ground and pound to finish her off.

She could have tapped out, really. It wouldn't have been her first time, even in the AFW - the other Knight got her to do it, after all. But this was a little different, wasn't? She didn't give a shit what Ryan or the audience thought about her, but Adrian was a different breed than any of them. Her breed, or as close to it as she was going to find in Tension. Losing to him was one thing, she could square with that, especially after such a hard fight. But surrendering was out of the question. He'd have to drag her to hell, kicking and screaming.

Her punches got weaker and weaker until they were barely taps, and her eyes rolled back as the power fled. She was going out, no way around it, but even as she went and the darkness took over, she had a slight smile on her face. Losing sucked, like always, but this time didn't bug her quite as much...

He clenched his teeth and squinted his eyes shut, trying to weather the storm. His arms coiled tighter. He'd hate himself for just taking the shots later, but this was the end. He could feel it even more profoundly than the pain that was coursing through him. The gradual weakening of her strikes was more than proof of that. He tightened his grip once more, his body curling inward with the effort, his cheek pressing up against hers.

And finally... she just stopped. The struggling, the strikes, everything. His arms unwound from around her neck and he collapsed on top of her, letting out an exhausted sigh of relief. She'd gone just in time, as he had absolutely nothing left in the tank as he lay there on top of her. The thought had appeared in his mind that she might be playing possum.. but if that were the case he didn't have enough left to fight back.

It wasn't a trick, not a play, not a gambit - she was legitimately knocked the fuck out. Her eyes closed and she relaxed underneath him, a sweaty, slowly breathing mess, bruised and bleeding in utter bliss. Somewhere in the distance, a bell rang out, signifying the end of the match - Adrian had won his first match in Tension, a clear victory.

Mako's eyes fluttered back open after a moment and she looked around, taking a second to register where she was and what was happening. Memories came flooding back, her senses returned, and she threw her head back with a light chuckle. "Oh, wow. That was good for me, what about you?"

He was very relieved when her limbs didn't wrap around him to finish him off. Mako wasn't the only one that had been a mess. In fact, there was a good chance that Adrian had actually taken more physical damage.

The sound of the bell ringing made him relax further, breathing out a final sigh of relief. His breath brushing against her neck lightly as he was still collapsed on top of her, head laying on her shoulder. Perhaps it'd be a bit awkward when she came to... but he didn't really care at the time. Despite the pain he was in, he was actually quite comfortable where he was.

He hadn't even noticed when she'd come to and he exhaled out a laugh as she spoke up. "Heh, yeah... Been a long time since I've had a brawl like that." He actually managed to smile a bit.

Mako was trying hard not to blush, but she figured that was a losing battle. A hot guy on top of her, sweating profusely, hurting from bruises and breaks that she'd inflicted, his chest rising and falling against her own, so close she could probably make an educated guess on what he'd eaten for lunch...oh, it was a very blushable moment, indeed. No shame, no shame.

"Uh-huh. Yeah." Mako reached up and thwipped him in the forehead. "Will you shut up and kiss me already? Honest-to-God, position like this, I'll be insulted if you don't."

In truth, he'd been so exhausted, he hadn't even thought about why the ground under him hadn't felt like the rough, grated-metal floor. But rather a much softer, but still firm surface with pleasant curves and smooth, sweat-slick skin. He was suddenly much more aware of where he was and finally lifted his head up off her shoulder.

As her fingers thumped into his forehead, he blinked and stared back at her. He probably shouldn't have been so surprised that she had been so bold and forward about it. But, when he really stopped to think about it, she pretty much acted exactly as she fought. An instinctual fighter, just like himself. He grinned a bit. "Such a smartass." He chuckled, before taking her suggestion and leaning in for a kiss. Clearly the way to this man's heart was by trying to kick a hole through his chest to get to it.