Violeta 'Eztlicoatl' Ayala vs. Spider Kikuchi - Tangled Web

Spider let out a long, seething hiss as she was cranked in the hold, letting her venom be heard. Eztlicoatl had managed to squeeze her into a very tight and damaging hold, one that managed to disable her arms while also stretching her back, even choking her a bit on top. A straightjacket camel clutch? Impressive. Spider might have even applauded it, if she could use her hands, and if she wasn’t quickly learning to hate this woman with every fiber of her mortal being.

The question was what she would do about it, though, and Spider didn’t have much of an answer to that. With her arms pulled, she couldn’t do much to bring herself to the ropes, wasn’t in a position to yank her way out of the hold…

...but she wouldn’t give up. Not to Eztlicoatl. A broken back would probably be better for her career than submitting to this nuisance. So, for the moment, she gritted her teeth and worked through the pain, enduring it as best she could.

The problem with a size disadvantage was that you usually had a strength disadvantage to go with it, meaning that cranking on a submission might not be quite as effective as the other person's resistance and flexibility. This turned out to be Etzli's major malfunction; no matter how hard she pulled on the camel clutch, she couldn't get Spider to submit, or even seem more than 'somewhat uncomfortable and extremely annoyed'.

Not that making her extremely annoyed wasn't sort of a moral victory in itself!

"Oh, come on!" she growled, her agitation breaking through the rather thick surface of her character for a moment. "Why isn't it..."

After a moment, the Nahuatl realized that simply clinging onto the hold like a pit bull wasn't going to get her anywhere. She had to get more leverage, or change the way she was applying the pressure, or...something. Letting out a frustrated huff, Etzli rolled over onto her back, trying to apply the straitjacket from more of a backpack position. Perhaps making Spider lean back into it would get the angle she needed.

But what Etzlicoatl didn't realize was that, in her impatience, she'd made an amateur mistake by crossing her ankles in front of Spider as she applied the hold instead of sinking both hooks in. They currently rested on the mat between the other girl's legs, untouched for the moment but leaving a very counter-vulnerable spot indeed..

”TAP! TAP! TAP!”

The crowd, miserable little bunch of undesirables as they were, was starting to get into the match. Despite it not being all that long of a match so far, it had already featured more technical wrestling than about 90% of most Friction matches, with much fewer bodily fluids. There was apparently a market for that.

Cute as it was, them chanting for her to quit wasn’t exactly endearing Spider to her new audience. It had the opposite effect they wanted, making her more and more determined to push past it. She just needed an opportunity. Fortunately, Eztlicoatl provided just that.

Despite not being able to breath all that well, her lips curled into a sinister smile as Eztlicoatl crossed her ankles, making a simple mistake thanks to her excitement. One that Spider was all too happy to exploit.

She crossed one leg over the top of the wretch’s foot, then caught it in a figure-four hold and poured the pressure on. If it all worked as she knew it was supposed to, Eztlicoatl was about to have a very good, painful reason to release the straightjacket.

Sweat beaded on Etzicoatl's forehead as she cranked on the straitjacket hold, putting every ounce of strength in her tiny frame into trying to squeeze a submission out of her opponent. She was well-conditioned, but there was a lot going into this move; if it didn't work, she was going to be blown up and then some.

It didn't work.

"Surrender yourself, and accept the blessing of Our Flayed Lord," she heaved through clenched teeth, "so that you may enter a new transcendent AHHH! AHHHHHHH--"

Her shriek of pain put an unexpected and thoroughly undignified end to that sentence as Spider triangled her ankles and wrenched hard on one of them. It was excruciating, given the leverage, and could have honest-to-god broken something if she hadn't abandoned ship. Etzli practically threw Spider's arms away from her, completely giving up on the hold, and scrambled forward with a serious of frantic yelps, leaving both girls on their sides with their legs hopelessly entangled for the moment. With her hands occupied trying to pry her ankle loose (the pain was white-hot; she'd probably sprained it. Son of a bitch), she was wide open and abruptly, significantly disadvantaged.

Experience carried with it many benefits for one such as Spider. The respect it earned from people who followed her career, few of whom seemed to be in this audience. It also gave her a variety of ways to escape dangerous situations, such as that one - though even she couldn’t ignore the fact that she’d gotten quite lucky. She couldn’t give Eztlicoatl an opening like that. Not again.

The sounds of Eztlicoatl’s agony were truly a thing to be heard, and Spider could have sat back and listened to her caterwauling for hours. Unfortunately, she had better things to do, such as breaking her in half and winning the match. And on that note…

Spider had plans for the welp, but first she needed her nice and pliable. She eased up on the leg triangle, but at the same time, she brought her arm up, jerked it back, and threw an elbow into Eztlcoatl’s persistently smug face.

At the moment, Etzli was mostly focused on making sure her ankle didn't get snapped in half - basically a death sentence for a luchadora, given the need for springboard and running moves. Both her hands were tied up as she tried to pry apart Spider's grip, in an attempt to ease off the considerable pressure. It didn't look like it (and the crowd, apart from their polite 'oooh' at the reversal, couldn't seem to figure it out), but she was potentially in serious danger.

Thankfully, as she pulled, the triangle seemed to loosen - but a second later, as she was entirely occupied with saving her leg, an elbow strike crashed into her jaw. Etzli's head snapped back - she was relatively small, had minimal striking ability, and like most normal people, really did not like being hit in the face.

Her head bounced off the mat, leaving the Nahuatl quite dazed for the moment.

While she didn’t enjoy using fists and elbow and knees to solve her problems most of the time - too inelegant, too swift - Spider couldn’t ignore the sheer joy that came from bludgeoning Eztlicoatl in the face. The only reason she didn’t do it more was because she could envision far more effective ways of hurting the imp. Ways she was pondering at this very moment, as she started to rise off of her fazed foe.

The figure-four leglock, the grapevine, the stretch muffler - all ideas that came to Spider’s head, but not quite appealed. For Eztlicoatl, she wanted something simple yet effective - a kneebar would do just fine.

While Eztlicoatl was still reeling, Spider dropped down and went into motion. She wrapped her legs around one of the rodent’s thighs, pulled the knee against her body, encircled the ankle with her arms and pushed out with her hips, forcing the leg to straighten in a way it was never designed to go.

A very satisfying hold, extremely painful. Spider knew from experience how excruciating it could. If Eztlicoatl begged properly, she would let the poor thing free.

Maybe.

Etzli's head was spinning. There was a ringing in her ears, courtesy of a ruthless elbow strike. She shook her head, trying to clear out the cobwebs, but there wasn't much time to recover because Spider was already grabbing a leg. At first, the luchadora thought she was going in for a heel hook or ankle lock on an already-damaged target. As the seconds passed, though, it became evident that an entirely different, even more diabolical plot was in mind.

The kneebar was agonizing, and it was on the same leg that'd just been worked over already. Despite her pride, Etzlicoatl cried out in pain as her opponent wrenched on the hold. It wasn't just excruciating, it was dangerous - she could tear the ligaments in the joint if she didn't get out of this. Etzli tried to flex her leg and push against the hold (it wouldn't do much, but it'd at least alleviate the effects a very tiny bit) and clenched her teeth in obvious agony, then, like a prisoner on the way to the gallows, started dragging herself hand over hand towards the ropes.

It was slow going. She was carrying both Spider and herself, and she'd never been particularly strong to begin with. Still, with all the energy she had left (which, admittedly, wasn't much, since she'd blown a lot of it on the straitjacket hold) and her eyes squeezed shut, she kept pulling herself closer and closer to the bottom rope. Halfway there now....just a little further to go....

Spider wasn't the biggest fan of the kneebar. You likely couldn't tell from the way she maniacally laughed while wrenching the hold, savoring every moment of Eztlicoatl’s struggles. Oh, it was effective, as the squealing goddess would certainly attest. But it lacked the sort of elegant panache that Spider valued with her moves, the style and flair that she demanded. It served a purpose, but she craved more - much more.

She didn’t want to back off, and that was exactly what would happen if Eztlicoatl reached the ropes. So she tried a bit of a different tactic.

Instead of holding on all the way, Spider released the brutal kneebar, giving her foe a moment to rest. This wasn’t an act of a mercy, a concept that she had little use for. No, it was mere strategy - she grabbed hold of Eztlicoatl’s ankle and tried to drag her back towards the center of the ring, looking to re-establish dominance there and pull the impudent pest away from hope.

This was not going in Etzli's favor, not at all. That was okay; she'd been in worse situations before. Yes. This was fine. Definitely fine.

Granted, all of that self-rationalization was just to distract her from the tremendous pain in her leg as she dragged herself (and Spider) towards the ropes. Lactic acid was screaming in her biceps from the effort of pulling all that weight on her small frame, but Etzli was a four-year veteran; she'd learned how to compartmentalize this kind of thing and just focus on what was in front of her. Eyes on the prize. Two-thirds of the way there, she could almost feel the rope under her outstretched hand. Closer....closer....

Abruptly, the pressure on her knee let up, and relief instinctively flooded into Etzli's mind before her wrestling instinct and sense of reason kicked in and replaced it with a sense of dread. If Spider was releasing the hold, that could only mean she was getting ready to transition to something else. Sure enough, before even a single second had passed, she was being dragged back towards the center of the ring. Damn! Not only was her damaged ankle red-hot with pain and in no position to be manhandled like that, if the kneebar got reapplied in the center this thing was over - she wasn't sure she had enough gas left in the tank to get anywhere near the ropes again.

The luchadora took a breath, steadied herself, then flipped over onto her back and lashed out with her free leg, trying to throw a few vicious upkicks towards Spider's jaw.