Amy Poford vs. Makoto Takeda - 24/7 at the 7-Eleven

Stone groaned at Amy's 'order' - she didn't much care for being bossed about by Mako, and the two or three inches this girl had on her leader wasn't making much of a difference. "A match? Really? Right now?" Stone shook her head, threw up her arms in frustration, and marched right back out the way she came. Washing her hands of the mess.

Mako, meanwhile, was having a devil of a time getting back to her feet. Aside from the simple pain in her back making it diifficult, she had to contend with the candy packets under her foot, making her slide everytime she tried to step on one. It was rough going, but fortunately her new best friend was there to help her rise. For all of two seconds.

She croaked as Amy spun her around and Irish Whipped her like her body was an actual whip, slamming her chest-first into the shelf and sending another wave of candy onto the floor. Mako clutched her chest and fell hard on her back, crashing hard next to a box of Slim Jims.

And she could've sworn someone in her gang was starting to cheer Amy. She better have been imagining that.

Mako gritted her teeth and started to sit up, trying to make it back to her feet as quick as she could, before Amy could capitalize. That was pretty unlikely, all things considered, but she had to at least try.

Amy finally turned to face Stone, but she was already out the door, throwing up exasperated hands as the bell rang. Amy almost laughed. That was nice- Stone had zero reason to listen to her, so her dutiful exit was completely unexpected. “Regular ball of sunshine, isn't she? But obedient. I see why you keep her around.”

Amy started in on Mako, but she had already pulled herself to a sitting position, despite the fact that both her back and chest must have felt like they’d been crushed by semis. Amy didn’t know if she herself could move so quickly after collisions like those, but she didn’t think it likely.

Amy looked on with respect- not even grudgingly. She was genuinely impressed.

But what’s respect without action? Lip service, that's what, and that wasn't what this was. Respect deserved active recognition in the form of demonstration, and Amy couldn’t think of a better way to honor Mako’s resilience than with a quick knee to her rising face.

Mako didn't really give that much of a fuck if Stone was there or not. It would've been nice, sure, in the interest of making a point about their current situation. And having her leave at Amy's order did not make her look good, even if she would've probably left anyway, regardless of what anyone said to her. It was setting a bad precedent, and Mako needed to turn things around.

She'd just started to get up when a hard blow slammed into her face, as Amy acquainted Mako's nose with the top of her knee. Stars danced across her vision and she felt a light fog coming over, as she nearly dropped flat on her chest. She managed to place her hands down at the last second and drop to both knees, but she came far, far too close to getting laid out. Unacceptable.

"Talk too much." Mako pulled in close and brought her arm up between  Amy's legs, going for a vicious low blow to hopefully swing momentum her way. No rules, no mercy.

There was more coming to Mako, lots more, and Amy was only too ready to get started. But, before she could, Mako came up and shot an arm directly between Amy's legs.

Amy’s eyes widened and her mouth fell all the way open, so far that her tongue would have fallen out if it weren’t attached. She fell to her knees then toppled almost comically over onto her side, hands clasped protectively over her crotch.

Each of a number of conflicting feelings elicited different corporeal responses- Mako was down, and she wouldn’t be for long. Her arm reached out. She was down, and Mako was going to capitalize in the most brutal way possible. Her arm came up in a loose defense about her face. But each somatic action cycle ended with her arms in the same place- back where they had started, hands down between her legs, where a white-hot agony wracked her whole body with strained shudders.

Her mind kept itself busy, churning out thoughts like a factory. Damn it. Weren’t they having a good time? Did Mako have to go and fucking ruin this, too? These thoughts stood in a queue, though, waiting their turn behind a blind, seething, all-consuming rage.

Oh, and pain. Lots and lots of pain.

Ooos and hisses echoed around the room after Mako landed the vicious blow on Amy, and you could almost feel the momentum shifting back into its rightful place. When she'd signed for the AFW, she'd explicitly told management she wanted to do more hardcore matches than anything, but they'd pretty much ignored her every time she was sent out to wrestle. Probably not wanting to take the risk putting someone her size in such a rough match. Not this time. This time, she'd have her own fight done her own way, and Amy would be the unwilling test subject. She couldn't have written a better set up.

"Sorry, bitch. Hurt a little too much for you?" Mako wiped her mouth as she watched Amy drop down with her mouth wide open like a hooked fish. She hoped one of her girls was recording this, because she wanted to make sure it was captured for future posterity and demostrative purposes.

Mako didn't even bother getting back up to her feet, since she could do fine work down on the floor. She rarely went at least one match without getting in a good submission hold, and this match would be no different - now it was her turn to make Amy suffer. Mako scrambled behind her as she rolled to the side, and reached out, trying to catch her in a rear naked choke while her hands were busy massaging her abused privates.

It was Mako’s second blood choke in about as many minutes, but this one looked like it might stick. Mako’s arms came around, and the rear naked choke fell into place while Amy’s hands were busy cradling her sore spot. The blood in Amy’s head immediately began to rot, and it still took her up to half a second after the hold was locked in to finally muster the will to pull her hands away from her aching snatch, coming up instead to paw at Mako’s hold. Any space she could make between her jugular and Mako’s hard little forearm- an inch, even- would buy her precious seconds of consciousness.

But playing defense wasn’t going to win her the fight, especially not in this situation. The danger here was worse than the sleeper from before. Sure, the spectre of a DDT had loomed over Amy’s head while they were standing, but at least she’d had the power to influence positioning. Here on the ground, she didn’t have that freedom. Well… she wouldn't for long, at least.

Mako was pressed up against Amy's back, her arms and legs entwined expertly around Amy’s own. But, before she could really settle in and immobilize her, Amy would throw herself sideways in a desperate roll. The aim was to smash Mako's back up against the shelf, make her loosen her grip, and then escape. Or maybe Amy would end up being the one crashing and suffering. She’d sort of forgotten how far they were from it when Mako hit her with that low blow… but 50-50 was pretty good odds at this point.

Mako would give Amy her proper due and admit that she could put up one hell of a crazy fight. She had locked the rear naked choke on at least a dozen girls before, and just about every time, they'd lost consciousness within about twenty seconds. Not this one. She was holding on, keeping her from getting just the right amount of squeeze she needed to make the hold lethal, stopping her from hitting the sweet spot.

It was a tad irritating, but at least this gave them the chance to chat. It'd be a little one-sided, but still. "Just so you know, even after we're done here, it's not gonna be the end." Mako growled in Amy's ear as she wrenched the hold even tighter and tried to cross her ankles, making it as secure as possible. "The next time your boy steps in the ring? Doesn't matter when, doesn't matter who he's fighting, we'll pay him a little visit. And the time after that, and the time-"

She would've loved to rattle off a long list of the things she'd do to Blaise and serenade Amy while she went off to dream world, but the blonde brawler had other ideas. She rolled around and smacked Mako's back hard against the nearest shelf, making the harsh metal dig into her spine once again. Her grip loosened and the opportunity was opened for Amy to escape, one she immediately started to take. "No-" Mako reached out and tried to grab hold of Amy before she could get too far away, scrambling after her with clawing fingers.

The pressure in Amy’s head let up, and Amy's vision returned to normal; she hadn't even realized that it was darkening around the edges. But she wasn’t out of the woods yet. Mako’s arms had loosened enough for Amy to be free of immediate danger, but those legs were still constricting her sides, and Mako was already scrambling to lock the hold back in. Despite the knock she’d taken on her back. Despite the fact that it wasn’t even the first knock she’d taken there. God, she was like the fucking Terminator.

Amy struggled to keep herself unstrangled, keeping her chin to her neck and her body a-writhing. As she fought, her mind raced to find a more permanent escape. Clearly, continued attacks on Mako's back weren't having much of an effect. Elbows wouldn’t work- her preferred method of escape counted on her assailants being bigger than her, and Mako was decidedly not that… and here her idea stream ran dry. Frankly, Amy was just tired of getting choked out- too tired to think of anything clever. So.

Fuck everything; Amy opened her mouth, brought Mako’s forearm up, and bit down hard.

Mako just hoped her scrambling didn't look as desperate as she felt it was, as she tried to pull Amy back in and re-establish the hold. The little bitch was good on her feet. Good enough to take her down? She wanted to think 'no', but even with her cockiness, there was a cautious undertone. What if she got beat down here, in front of her girls? What if she lost the match, had that on her record. Forget bragging rights, her position in the gang would be questioned. The sharks would start to circle, and then...

No, no way was she easing up. She reached out for Amy's throat like her life depended on squeezing her neck. And maybe it did.

For a second, it looked like she had it, like she might to renew the hold and finish this fight fast. And then she felt it. Tiny little pricks in her skin, digging deep, cutting hard. Teeth. Amy was biting her.

"Fucking bitch!" Mako screeched and tried to pull her forearm free while she twisted away, wanting to make sure the teeth hadn't broken skin. "Are you fucking crazy?"

Amy bore down with everything she had, desperation lending a few extra PSI to her bite, but she let go as soon as she started to feel the arm tug away; her teeth had done their job. Amy immediately crawled to the opposite wall and got to her feet, trying not to make it obvious how much she needed the shelf to stay upright. “Fight like a bitch, get put down like a bitch.” Amy was breathing hard- that wasn’t something she could hide. But she tried anyway, glaring at Mako with the eyes of absolute death. “If you don’t like it, cry to a ref.”

Speaking of which… out of the corner of her eye, she saw a tiny white car pull hurriedly into the station. Considering that the pumps were all blocked, chances were that this was the official that she’d been waiting for.

Win or lose, Amy had anticipated that the Valkyries would beat a hasty retreat from the convenience store after Amy and Mako’s fight, and Amy would be stuck trying to argue her way out of a hefty, you-break-it, you-bought-it invoice. Now that the AFW had a representative here, she could break shit with abandon, knowing full well that the company would foot the bill. Heck, they could even take a time-out, nuke a couple of chimichangas, share a bottle of sake, and it’d all be comped by the league. Amy finally felt as if the store and everything in it was theirs to do with as they pleased.

Goddamn, is this what being rich feels like? This is nice.

Amy’s whole body ached courtesy of Mako’s low blow, and the spots were only just now clearing from her vision. But, despite that, Amy put on a small, grim smile, cracked her neck, and put up her fists. “Ref’s here. Let’s get real.”