Black & White Catfight - Jaguar Negra vs Gato Blanco

Blanco's arm was set, his legs were tangled, all that was left was to keep this hold locked down and he'd be golden. However, despite the ingenuity of the move, Blanco's experience with submissions in general proved to be a greater asset. When the time was right, Blanco slid his arm free from Jaguar's knee, and the rest went downhill from there. With his torso back under control, Blanco twisted round and thrashed his legs to slip free from Jaguar's grip.

Taken aback at Blanco's unexpected revival, Jaguar quickly grasped his hands together above his head and swung down a double axe-handle aimed for the other luchador's chest. At the mid-point of his swing, Blanco's boots popped back hard into his abs. As Jaguar recoiled from the impact, he tried to push onto his feet, but the reverse momentum was too much too suddenly to recover. Rather than fall flat, Jaguar rolled over his back and onto his knees.

His head whipped back up to see that Blanco was already racing towards him in full sprint, there was barely time to think of alternatives, but if he was gonna have a chance he needed to be on his feet too. Jaguar roared as he dug his feet in and popped to his feet, but it was not quick enough. Blanco boosted his height by vaulting off Jaguar's thigh and smashed his knee right in the center of his mask.

Jaguar's head was thrown back and the momentum carried it sideways, leading to him crashing down onto his chest faced away from Blanco. Boom. The Jaguar was down hard and unmoving, most would assume out cold. Was this the end for the fiesty Mayan? Or would he rise from the "dead" at the last second again?

Fans who were on the edge of their seats before were now standing and jumping in excitement. Popcorn went flying, drinks were spilled and the ambient noise rocketed up several more decibels. All the energy that the luchadores had expended thus far seemed to have been absorbed and amplified in their audience. With so much of the back and forth action, the crowd was in a feeding frenzy -- and they wanted more!

The sound of Blanco's shin striking the Jaguar's face echoed through the arena, and through his ears. As Blanco rode the momentum downward, he could feel some relief washing off of him. The blow actually connecting was a shot of fresh air for him, after the hellacious pummeling the black-masked young man had given both him and Holly, in the match.

And apparently, the crowd was coming to life. The fans had been enjoying both men's work throughout the match, but the energy in the arena was becoming electric. At ringside, even Holly's mostly lifeless body was beginning to stir, at the reverberations of the crowd's mounting applause. Blanco sat upright, fist raised. The veteran's fist was shaking a bit, as he started to feed off the energy of the fans, trying to use their rising voices to to block out the pain.

Elsewhere in the ring, Jaguar looked to be down. However, Blanco could hardly count on the young man would be out. The Jaguar had proven far too tough for that, regardless of how hard the shining wizard might have been. Pushing himself up to his feet, Blanco took a deep breath and immediately threw himself into mounting a renewed offense. He couldn't take too many such openings for granted, not in a contest as intense as this one.

Stepping forward quickly, Blanco scooped up the Jaguar's right ankle as swiftly as he could with his left hand while throwing himself forward with a somersault. Blanco's roll would end with him planting a knee hard into the back of Jaguar's neck, that trapped ankle stretched out behind Blanco's back and tucked under his arm. Blanco kicked the other leg back for balance and leverage, while bracing himself over Jaguar's body with his right arm propping him against the mat. While he twisted the Jaguar's leg back, Blanco's knee would be grinding down against Jaguar's body as the lucha veteran rolled into a modified stretch muffler. Blanco was looking to work over Jaguar's spine and legs, hopefully diminishing some of his considerable power without putting too much strain on his own aching back.

While Jaguar was still dizzy and semi-conscious, Blanco was busy soldiering on and following up the shining wizard. Jaguar's ankle was grabbed and Blanco rolled forward into position across his back. A knee was placed across the back of his neck to add pressure and a focal point for the hold, while his leg was pulled back and tucked under Blanco's arm to lift his lower half-up.

The execution of the stretch muffler brought Jaguar back to life like a defib, he cried out in pain as his neck and back exploded in electrical tingling pain as his spine was bent outta position. He pounded a fist into the mat as he reached behind him, hand frantically grasping at Blanco's knee. Though being faced down and masked was hiding a great deal of facial expression, the tension visible in his trapped leg, exposed chest and abs, his pounding fist--they all showed the muffler's effectiveness at work. Each time Jaguar squirmed to test the limits of the hold, he introduced a new twinge of pain to himself.

Jaguar gathered his resolve and pain within himself, he had the mental fortitude to get through this! He took a long deep breath, fighting the urge to pant and groan as he focused on his free leg. He had the flexibility, he had the angle, he just had to summon the strength through the wall of pain.

"GrahhhH!" Jaguar shouted as he kicked his free leg off the wat and swung his heel wildly back. The pain coming from being momentarily suspended was great, but ideally the sacrifice would be worth it if his heel could crack Blanco's skull. If not, gravity was gonna punish his transgression as his torso fell back down and tested the elasticity of his spine.

At this point in the match, Blanco was counting on his endurance and conditioning to see him through. Being able to keep a solid pace was massively important to lucha libre. Not just being able to not just keep moving, but also to lock holds in, but to keep his opponents in them. And this entire match, the wiry Jaguar had proven to be a tough one to keep in one spot.

With the Jaguar's flailing limbs and pained struggles, there was only so long that Gato Blanco was going to be able to keep him locked down. And that certainly wasn't going to be enough time to force the fiercely proud young man to tap. Even as they had gone back and forth viciously, this entire night, the veteran's respect for the black-masked young man was growing exponentially.

Blanco's limbs were beginning to tremble, with the effort of keeping his opponent locked down. And as the Jaguar's leg kicked up, to try and snap against him, Blanco finally released. Letting Jaguar's boot slip from between his back and arm, Blanco rose that arm above his head, tucking his fist around his shoulder. With a sharp twist of his body, Blanco swung the elbow down hard, planting it against the back of the Jaguar's skull, to drive him into the mat.

From the mat, Blanco began to eye the ropes. Both of these men had been through a grueling match, at this point. Both of them had been taken to extremes through this whole contest. Setting his jaw beneath his mask, Blanco realized that this thing had to end, and soon. So, pushing himself up to a knee, Blanco wrapped his hand around the young man's wrist. As he stepped upright, Blanco twisted his body, dragging the Jaguar upright as he trapped him in an arm wringer lock.

Jaguar's counter-kick attempt was met with failure when his other leg was released, and his own force was thwarted by the downward momentum of his lower half. Naturally Jaguar took this as a chance to escape, but with some expert maneuvering, his chest was flattened against the mat when Blanco levered his elbow against his shoulder and the back of his head.

Gritting his teeth, Jaguar took the opportunity to get his feet back under himself appropriately. His head was still pounding from that shining wizard, which made any complicated strategy planning moot. Right now he was relying on adrenaline and controlled aggression; basically, do as much damage any you can for as long as the energy lasted. Blanco's experience in this regard was making this goal quite difficult.

As Blanco stepped up off him, Jaguar kept pace and quickly rose to his knees and then to his feet. The movement was aided when his trapped wrist was rapidly twisted out of comfortable position into an arm wringer. Jaguar's response to the new pain was to bend over, clutching at the focal point in his shoulder as he hissed. This sort of move was not new to him however, and most luchadors had been trained to escape it. Jaguar stood back upright, and then rapidly threw himself forward. He performed a front-flip in the air and landed back on his toes, undoing the twist in his arm so that Blanco now only had a grip on his wrist.

Using that to his advantage, Jaguar turned and grabbed Blanco's arm that was gripping his own, yanking it towards him and spinning around on the back of his heels. He added his own strength into the throw and then whipped Blanco diagonally at the ropes, ideally with enough force to slip free of his grasp. Should he succeed, the angle would prevent Blanco from coming directly back at him, and would give Jaguar a chance to run towards the ropes himself. He'd try to jump through the top and middle ropes, latch on and swing himself back towards the ring with a tiger feint dropkick.

As the two men struggled against one another, Blanco could feel the Jaguar getting the upper hand. The man was fighting through with passion and heart, giving him a surprising speed. Beneath his mask, Blanco's eyes widened a bit, as the Jaguar pushed up along with Blanco's lift. The crowd was similarly impressed as the two men got back to their feet, and Jaguar Negra rolled out of the arm lock and turned the grip around into an Irish whip!

With the momentum and the angle, Jaguar sent Blanco down as he went forward. Tripping with the shove, Blanco went toward the ropes. Fortunately, he did so with enough time and to get his arms up. Arms forward, the luchador got hung up on the ropes, mostly hanging off of his biceps, as opposed to dangling with the rope digging into his chest.

At ringside, Blanco's valet was finally getting roused from her forced nap, and beginning to push herself up onto all fours. Confused, Holly was massively disheveled. Hair a mess, small dress still hiked up in humiliatingly exposing fashion. None of which she took note of, as she glanced back into the ring and saw the Jaguar come rushing toward the ropes, where Blanco was hung up. "Mister!" she called out, stumbling forward.

The Jaguar entered Blanco's field of vision as he swung through the ropes. With a split second to react, Blanco lifted his arms, bracing himself. Instead of the kick landing directly into his face, however, the legs hit the block. Some of the force would carry through, rocking him, but the veteran absorbed as much as he could through the block. Better than a full-on strike to the face, at least ...

Riding off that momentum, Blanco stumbled back, getting to his feet. Even through the mass cheers of the crowd, excited for the fast-paced and deftly-delivered strike of the Jaguar, Blanco would hear Holly's voice cutting through. Shaking his aching head, Blanco pushed on. Giving Jaguar a second to come through the ropes, but not enough time to get entirely off, the white-masked luchador came in with a high kick, aimed at cracking against Jaguar's skull and leaving him propped up against the ropes.

Blanco's impact in the ropes went according to plan. Any elastic rebound was dissipated by the strange angle, and he found himself caught up in the ropes. Jaguar's heart raced as he launched himself into the air, with a split-second of cool air rushing past him as his body swung between ropes, and then he was wheeling around back into the ring. His boots met jarringly with Blanco's guard on the return, causing his opponent to stumble back rather than be knocked down. In addition, it made Jaguar's landing less than graceful, touching down on his knees while his arms still grasped the ropes.

Jaguar's body moved like a wave from feet to head as he hauled himself back to his feet. Blanco was already upon him again, no time to duck out of the way and certainly no time to counter. He hastily threw up his guard, intercepting Blanco's shin midair. However, the force of the kick overcame him before he could steel his arms in place.

THWACK! Blanco's lightning-speed boot audibly cracked into Jaguar's skull from above, met with thunderous approval by the crowd's roar. The feline recoiled from the blow immediately, blinking in rapid succession as he fell back into the ropes for support. In fact, his elbows looped over the top rope seemed to be the only thing keeping him even semi-standing at the moment.

The crowd let out a loud cheer, at the sound of the impact. The entire match had been hard-hitting, control going back and forth fast and furious all night. Blanco simply felt fortunate, however. The young Jaguar had a quickness and a feirceness to him that was impressive. Over the next few years, Blanco could imagine the piles of gold titles the kid would pick up.

But, those next few years weren't going to be starting tonight, Blanco told himself. With the Jaguar stunned, Blanco needed to act fast. Taking a deep breach, Blanco took Jaguar's wrist, twisted him into place for another arm wringer. Instead of wrenching the hold, however, Blanco turned toward the ropes. With a grunt of effort, Blanco jumped up, and landed with practiced balance on the top rope. Even in his current, exhausted state, the luchador's years of experience helped him to stick the landing. The crowd went silent a moment, tension thick in the air.

At ringside, Holly was finally able to get back up to her feet. Hair and clothes in a complete state of disarray, she couldn't pay them any mind. Like the crowd, the Brit was too invested in what was happening on the top rope. Blanco crossed his feet over in a steady walk, his full focus on his balance. His muscles were quivering, a bit, the tension in the top rope supporting him matching the tension in his body as he executed the precarious move. Rather quickly, the white-masked veteran walked- with the Jaguar in tow- toward the corner turnbuckle. His free hand was clenched in a fist, which he pumped a bit as he neared the corner. In the audience, the silence was broken by a few voices cheering, eagerly anticipating whatever might come next.

As Blanco reached out and took one of Jaguar's arms into a wringer, the other still hung by the elbow to keep him afloat. Neither his equilibrium nor his wits were fully returned to him when Blanco ascended to the top rope in a single impressive leap, taking the crowd by storm. The white-masked luchador used the arm-wringer to control Jaguar and lead him towards a corner in awkward, stumbling steps.

Jaguar groaned as his head continued to throb and pang. Having taken a few shots to the head so far, his recovery period was doubtless going to be a long one. Yet the spirit of the Jaguar was still roaring strong, he would not give in! As Blanco approached the corner, Jaguar gritted his teeth as he willed himself to move once more.

He performed the same standing front-flip maneuver to undo the twist of his arm and free himself. He then threw his whole body into the elbow strike at Blanco's gut, to double the veteran over and force him into a seated position atop the turnbuckle. Heaving in breaths through the mouth gap in his mask, Jaguar climbed and stood upon the middle ropes. Raising both hands over his head, he brought them down together upon the space between Blanco's shoulder blades, leaning forward into him as his fatigue showed.

Almost there.....keep moving! Jaguar told himself as he reasserted his balance and stood back up straight. He grabbed the back of Blanco's mask and yanked his head against his side, wrapping his bicep around and securing his hands together for a tight headlock.

Only one thing left now. Jaguar reached down and grabbed Blanco by the pants, using that grip in combination with the headlock to force him to a stand as well. Jaguar took a few seconds to catch his breath, let his strength build back up in numbed limbs. Then he'd start to heave and try to lift Blanco up, enough so that he'd be able to fall back and let gravity drill Blanco into the mat, hopefully once and for all!

Shaking his head, Blanco was doing his best to keep his bearings on the top rope. The energy of the crowd was feeding him, now, but the match was still going on. And he was still feeling every bit of punishment his black-masked opponent had put him through, during the duration of it. Sweat was running down Blanco's muscles in rivulets, and it was hardly just due to the hot arena lights. Still, this felt right. This was where Gato Blanco belonged, on the top rope, voices of the crowd rising to reach him near the arena lights. At ringside, Holly had finally staggered up to the ring apron, still looking a mess, too caught up in the thrill of the fight to even get her hair or dress back under control.

Then, the Jaguar twisted out, fired back. The crowd went electric for it, the back-and-forth of the match pulling them in and keeping their attention in a vice-grip. The Jaguar's twist was quick, his elbow strike even quicker. "Aggghh," Blanco grunted, as the Jaguar doubled him over with the strike. Hopping up the ropes after him, the Jaguar made the ropes bow a bit as both men were perched atop them. The crowd went tense, as both luchadores battled for dominance on the corner post. Perched precariously, it was an incredibly dangerous position for both men. The slightest mis-step or mistake would spell certain doom for either of them.

"NO!" Holly cried out, watching Blanco's white-masked head get trapped between the Jaguar's arm and his body. "Hnngh," Blanco grunted, as he grit his teeth, his head clenched in the strong young man's grip. He didn't struggle much, as the Jaguar straightened him up and took hold of his wrestling tights. The veteran luchador was conserving his strength, pacing himself. He knew he would only get one shot at saving himself. Closing his eyes and focusing on his breathing, the luchador waited for the ideal time to take that chance.

Which still didn't look good for El Gato, as the Jaguar hoisted him up. "Oh, no!" Holly whimpered, feeling almost certain she was about to witness her man's untimely demise. Abs tensing as he breathed, it certainly looked badly for Blanco, but it was in that moment he took his chance to act. Before reaching the full height of the Jaguar's lift, Blanco swung a hard strike, a chop aimed square at the black-masked luchador's ribs, to weaken the headlock. As he did so, Blanco dropped his legs and twisted, swinging himself back toward the ropes!

Landing with the arches of his boots poised on the ropes, Gato Blanco would waste no time bouncing off of them. Thrusting up from his legs, the luchador wrapped both hands around the arm that the Jaguar had just clutched him with, bounced off the ropes, and flipped over him with a dramatic springboard arm drag! The move made the arena erupt, Blanco vividly imagining the air horns that would be ringing through the arena if this match had been taking place back in Mexico! Flipping hard and fast, Blanco's signature arm drag would plant the Jaguar flat across the mat, near the opposite turnbuckle. Riding high off the momentum and the adrenaline of his narrow escape, Blanco rolled out of the arm drag, and sprung up onto the turnbuckle itself. Mounting it quickly, the luchador began to ascend, hoping that he could get up there swiftly enough that he could land the move that could put an end to this contest ...