Blaise Cameron vs. Nathan Weed - For Amy's Sake

A video clip played on the arena's screens earlier this evening. A challenge was made. And now, a few matches later, it was time to see it through.

The stadium lights go down and a hush falls over the crowd. The chorus of Carry On My Wayward Son suddenly kicks on, pumping the retro-rock anthem through the speakers, and the audience erupts into cheers.

A spotlight hits the ramp.

Blaise Cameron steps out into the light, already decked out in his wrestling gear. Sapphire blue boots shod his feet, and a pair of matching trunks cover his hips, both designed with stylistic black trim. This leaves his upper-body bare, from streamlined streams to flat, firmed pectorals, down to smoothly-defined abdominals. Half of his legs are also left bare, thanks to the traditional cut of his trunks, baring his toned thighs down to knees. But this time, Blaise carries a chrome microphone in his right hand.



Despite the circumstances, Blaise is still smiling and carrying himself with his typical energetic pep. The teen lifts his free hand to wave to the audience on one side of the ramp, then again to the opposite. One or two extra-enthusiastic wrestling fans gets pointed out with a warmer smile or wink, but he doesn't delay long. He takes off at a full sprint for the ring! With a leap, he lands on the ring apron and grabs ahold of the top rope to catch himself. He turns to the audience and tosses the microphone high into the air. The spry teen backrolls over the top rope and immediately trots backwards to the center of the ring to catch it again in his right hand.

The display of showmanship gets a fresh round of applause, and Blaise receives it with an appreciative smile and wave of his free hand. The wave then turns into some gentle 'patting' at the air, signalling the end of the music.

The microphone is raised. "How're we doin', Kyotooo!?"

He lowers the microphone again, letting the rolling cheer wash over the stadium in the wake of his shoutout. It's raised again once the cheer has subsided enough.

"As you know, tonight's gonna be a little different! I won't be duking it out with one of this fine federation's beautiful girls. Sorry, gang. But tonight's about making things right. Last week, Nathan Weed did something really foul. Anyone need some reminding?"

Blaise turns to profile and raises his free hand to point to the jumbotron over the ramp. "Roll that clip, guys!"

The Recap:

The audience gives a low, mixed murmuring between apprehensive, "OoOoOo"s, and sensationalized cheers at what may very well look like playboy behavior.

The video feed turns back onto Blaise, his smile gone and his head shaking. He murmurs a critical, "Mm-mm-mm," into the microphone. "Talk about betrayal. People, not a lot of things tick me off, but that is really messed up." He strolls to the edge of the ring and places his free hand over the top rope. His energy starts to ramp up, and the tension can be seen building as his frame grows more rigid, his eyes narrowing. "You screwed up bad, Nathan. You didn't just fail to help the person who put it all on the line for you, you made out with the one pulling the strings on her torture! You went even beyond what she was telling you to do and kept kissing her! You're nuts if you think I'm gonna let that fly! Amy's my friend - my real friend! And I'm not about to see her disrespected and put through that by a putz like you!"

"So get out here! Get in this ring! And COME GET YOUR MEDICINE!"

With a scowl, Blaise passes the microphone off to the referee.

Nathan hadn’t planned on fighting tonight. He wasn’t on the match card, so he was dressed to play ball. His friends at the court weren’t Tension fans, and doing something that had nothing to do with professional wrestling sounded extremely appealing to him tonight.

He hadn’t been planning to be in the ring for a good long while, actually. The public reaction to his behavior in the ring the previous week was not good, to put it mildly. The AFW online recap was abuzz with comments calling him “coward” and “traitor.” Fansites, free of the shackles of corporate censorship, were rife with the much more honest labels of “bitch.” None of these would have been known to him, of course, if some particularly enterprising fans hadn't found his Facebook page and flooded his wall with direct links to the articles. As it often happens with things like this, the odd death threat got shuffled into the mix here and there, and Nathan had to take down his Facebook page; his family didn’t need the heartache.

He hadn’t seen Amy since that match. He hadn’t even had a chance to speak to her, but not for lack of trying. She was ignoring his texts and phone calls; she wasn't even bothering to respond with her usual brush-offs- “Busy.” Or “Can’t.” It was killing him to not be able to talk to her, to explain himself. To make excuses. Nathan shook his head.

So Nathan was in no mood to relive the events of the previous week. But, when Blaise began to play the clip of those events, he found himself unable to turn away. He winced when the subtitles popped; they were in Japanese, but he could recall every word with crystal clarity. And that kiss… things were bad enough in the ring, but they looked even worse from the camera’s point of view.

He briefly considered ignoring the callout. He didn’t owe this man- or anyone- anything. But in the end, he peeled off his jersey and pulled his wrestling attire from his gym bag. There was a wrong that needed righting. He’d taken the best available course of action, and he’d show that to everyone tonight. Whether they’d accept it or not was up to them.

God, he was so tired.

Nathan walked purposefully into the arena. The staff had implored him to wait until they could cue up his music, but he ignored them, striding past as if they weren’t there. One particularly daring intern had managed to slip a microphone into his hand before he'd escaped through the curtains, but Nathan simply dropped it at the top of the ramp. He could talk in the ring.

By the time Love and War started to play, he was already halfway down the ramp. Any female interest that he may have inspired before his match last week was swallowed up in a flurry of boos, but, just like last week, he ignored the crowd. His eyes were focused on the scowling teen in the ring. He knew Blaise- or, at least, had seen his match against Amy. He was nothing. He was making a big mistake.

Nathan slid into the ring under the bottom rope and stood up. He walked straight up to Blaise, coming to a stop just inches away from his face. His voice was low and dangerous. His body language, threatening. But he couldn't control how his eyes looked, and they were fatigued, reflecting the burden he'd been carrying over the past week. “You don’t know anything.”

When Nathan makes his appearance, Blaise steps back from the ropes to begin prowling the ring's perimeter like an anxious jungle cat. There's a smile playing on his face, but it's nothing like the warm, pleasant look typically at home there. He'd half-expected this guy to not bother showing up - maybe even toss out the excuse that a male-on-male match isn't welcome here.

When Nathan enters the ring, Blaise seems to have the same idea as him. The two meet in the center of the ring, neither giving the other an inch. They stand at the same height, with Blaise having a little more weight on him - surprisingly enough - but generally look evenly matched. Ironically, neither really has a single, straight win in Tension so far, at that. This will be an interesting match-up for the spectators tonight, even if no girls are involved in this particular contest.

There's a point to be made, though; the burning glare in Blaise's eye is proof enough. His own body language is rigid, tense, ready to throw down at a moment's notice, and he is. He didn't call Nathan out to make nice with him. He crossed a line, and he has to pay. He has no sympathy for the evident fatigue in his foe - he expects he knows where it's coming from, but all that he's had to put up with since that night has been well-deserved. Tonight, especially.

"I know trash when I see it," he growls back. "I know she cared enough to jump into a fight, outnumbered, just to help you out. You think Makoto's gonna run in here to save you when I start tearin' you apart?"

Nathan's reaction to Blaise's retort was twofold. First, a wince crossed his face at Mako's name. This was exactly where Blaise had it wrong. Mako was crazy, and Nathan had only done what he had to do to safely deliver Amy from peril. But the way Blaise had put it, it sounded like he'd abandoned Amy for Mako. That wasn't it. That wasn't it at all.

Second, his fists balled up so tight his knuckles turned paper white. The temptation to sock Blaise in the mouth was tremendous. Nathan wasn't one for cheap shots. He wasn't one for talking or swearing, either, but Blaise was special. The whole situation was special- an emotional undercurrent ran around and through the ring, and it was clear from the electricity between the two men that this fight was going to be personal.  

Still, he was able to ride the urge down, channeling the swell of frustration and anger into a rise in body temperature, some ground teeth, and deep breathing. "Just wait till that bell rings. We'll see who gets torn apart then." Because one thing about their circumstance was familiar- Blaise was a guy, and Nathan didn't need any particular persuasion to let loose on a guy.

Given their proximity, Blaise can tell his words hit a nerve. 'Good. He intends to hit a few more before the night's through. Whatever Nathan's had to put up with since that night couldn't possibly compare to what he did to Amy. This guy's scum, and Amy might not be gunning for him to set things straight, but Blaise isn't about to let it go. Maybe this'll even be a cautionary tale for any other dude who thinks they can have their cake and eat it, too.

Of course, he's going to have to fight extra hard here. This is a fight he can't afford to underperform in. He doesn't have it in him to be downright brutal, but he does have to step up his game. If he gets trounced here, then all of this was for nothing. Amy won't have the justice she deserves, and this guy won't have the beating he deserves.

Blaise gives a small, derisive snort. "Just try not to fold as fast tonight."

*DING*

As soon as the bell sounds, Blaise draws back his right leg to give himself enough range to build up momentum. He launches back in with the right arm, aiming to smash his forearm against Nathan's chest to get things going.

Nathan saw Blaise draw back, but made no move to dodge Blaise's blow. Instead, he took the forearm full on in the chest, and the force was enough to push him back a couple of steps. Blaise was slightly larger than Nathan, yes, but that hit felt as though Blaise was twice as big. Blaise wasn't weak- one only needed to see his athletic body to see that- but there seemed to be an extra pinch of pepper to his punching tonight. That was fine, though. Nathan had fought heavy hitters before. He worked through the fresh stinging in his chest to deliver his rebuttal; he pulled a fist back, so far back he thought he could feel the audience's excited breath on it, before shooting it forward into Blaise's own pectorals.

Nathan made no effort to dodge, and Blaise plowed a forearm against his chest. Nathan responds with a full-on haymaker aimed for his pectorals, who stands steady to take the shot as well. "Hnf..!," grunts the teen, falling back a couple steps in turn. That hurt. But he's got a lot of energy in the tank, and the build-up to this fight has him amped. Teeth grit, and Blaise steps in again - this time aiming to blast a knee into Nathan's midsection.

Though neither of them has shrugged off the other's blow, Nathan wasn't bashed quite the way Blaise had hoped. So perhaps this knee-strike will create the proper opening to kick things off!

Nathan stood at the ready, chest flexed, fully expecting Blaise to come at him with another forearm strike. However, Blaise's arms stayed out for balance, and instead Nathan got a knee punched into his abdominals. It dug in hard, and it dug in deep, and, despite himself, Nathan doubled over. His right arm came up automatically to nurse the area where he'd gotten hit. His left though rose up and found its way to Blaise's shoulder in preparation for his counterattack... which the rest of Nathan's body was not prepared to launch. Nathan grimaced. Without a response, Blaise was free to push forward and increase his momentum, but Nathan couldn't do much but tense up and prepare for the next blow.

The knee lands, and Nathan is left doubled over. A smirk touches Blaise's features, satisfied with the result. Nathan keeping ahold of his shoulder doesn't bother him so much - it's fine where it is for what he has in mind.

The teen leans forward to hook one arm at one of Nathan's thighs, the other over his shoulder in an effort to promptly hoist the other male into the air. With a simple turnover, he aims to bodyslam him down onto his back and lean over him. With his hands propped to his thighs, Blaise taunts, "That feelin' right there? Pain? Get used to it. Lot more of it comin'."

Nathan realized at this point that, during his time at the AFW, he'd not yet fought an opponent with the capability to throw him around like this. He'd had a taste in his last match against Stone, but so far he'd been largely attached to the floor. He wished he knew to be grateful at the time.

Nathan groaned, turning over to his hands and knees as Blaise dropped down taunts from just above him. "Shut up." Nathan wanted to get back on his feet, where he was strongest. And he had some choice words for the confident Blaise, words that would be much more effective from a less supplicating position.