SD III: The Dasher Challenge

Just keep circling, just keep moving. Carmen kept her distance and tried to use Dasher’s own tactic against him, faking him out a bit in a bid to make him try a rush. The old-school veteran was a fierce opponent, she could see that already, but that hardly meant he was perfect. If anything, she would wager his chauvinism could bite him in the ass. There was only so much playing around he’d suffer from a woman like herself, before he finally decided to…

Yup, there he went.

Dasher came flying forward with his arm extended, trying to nail him with a clothesline, swinging his arm like a thick, meaty bat. His speed served him well, and it might have connected, too, if she hadn’t ducked down at just the right time to let it pass overhead, avoiding what would’ve been a crushing blow.

Instead of slowing down, Carmen kept moving, darting off towards the ropes behind him. She spun about, let her back hit them, then bounced off and came rushing her way at even higher speeds, practically daring him to take another shot at the clothesline.

Now that the prerequisite banter and the traditional act of "feeling out" your opponent was in the rear view, Dasher was now intent on putting an end to this farce in as brutal and decisive a manner as possible. Carmen only impressing Dasher in terms of her bold ignorance and immense overconfidence in accepting his challenge in the first place, leading the dashing puroresu champion on a stampeding crash course towards the latina "striker", so-called.

"Hmm?!"

Only for the perplexed burly grappler to whiff completely and hit nothing but air. Dasher stopping himself completely a few feet ahead before whipping his head around to see Carmen propelling herself off the ring ropes with the foolish intention to come catapulting right back towards him.  

Dasher narrowed his eyes and fiercely clenched his fist from his failed clothesline attempt. A mistake he did not intend to repeat as he would take off sprinting back towards Carmen. The square-jawed grappler intending to meet Carmen back in the middle of the ring for the scheduled appointment between her chest and his rock-hard bicep. A second clothesline attempt coming her way with great speed and even greater intensity.

One of the biggest things that Carmen had to get used to when she switched from four ropes to three was the rhythm of wrestling. A wrestling match was like a dance in a lot of ways. Every opponent had their own sort of groove, and the key was getting into it, figuring out their moves, their patterns, their ticks...and using that against them.

It was something that couldn’t be taught on the fly. She had to get used to it. Had to feel it. In many ways, this match with Dasher was her final exam.

She was banking on him going for the clothesline again as she charged towards him. After all, he’d nearly nailed her with it the last time. Why not try again?

Carmen moved in, waited for the last possible moment, then narrowly ducked under the clothesline again, but this time she didn’t keep going. In fact, she reached up as she passed underneath his shoulder, wrapped one arm around it, then came up behind him as she tried to lock her hands together, hoping to catch him with a half-nelson.

An amateurish waste of energy, and downright cowardly. Those were the words Dasher would have used to describe Carmen refusing to fight her like a man. Instead the latina striker resorted to sprinting around the ring and being incessantly nimble, like a spastic fly that Dasher was aching to squash like the pest that she was.

"TCH!!!"

Another missed clothesline had Dasher scoffing in irritation, but no sooner was he about to turn around than he suddenly felt Carmen latch herself onto his swinging arm. The burly and experienced heavyweight recognized the early setup for the rudimentary half-nelson hold, but was unable to prevent his muscled arm from already dangling in the air. Dasher clenched his teeth from the pressure, but didn't panic, and instead used this to his advantage.

Before his other arm could be fastened behind his back, Dasher would clench onto Carmen's thigh from behind and buck forward. Both motions intending to yank Carmen onto his back in a piggy-back position. Dasher demonstrating that a man of his muscle mass was not so easily corralled, Inoba now attempting to go into a fast paced dash backwards in his effort to emphatically squash the pest on his back between the corner turnbuckles and his broad back.

Carmen was confident in her wrestling abilities, but nowhere near enough to think that her half-nelson hold would be able to get real damage on a man like Dasher. Ignoring the skill, he was a strong opponent, packing solid muscle into his frame. She’d never thought she could outmuscle him, but that was achingly apparent now that her chest was pressed to his back. Carmen was probably one of the strongest women in Tension, but against him , that wouldn’t nearly be enough.

Still, it was a starting point. Something she could wear him down with. She locked it in tight, gripped her fingers, put on the full pressure. She did everything right, worked it like she was supposed to. Technique wasn’t the problem, here.

That hardly meant it would be enough, though. One arm free was one arm too many when it came to Dasher.

In one quick, smooth movement, Carmen found herself lifted up and thrust back, rushed hard towards the turnbuckle before she could even dream of reacting. She had to grit her teeth hard to keep from yelling out after the impact, and even though she managed to keep holding onto Dasher, her hold was significantly weakened for the moment, turning into little more than a soft embrace.

Those who have routinely belted out the passe catchphrase, "Taking the bull by the horns", have perhaps no clue of how undeniably difficult that is. The thrashing power and nigh uncontrollable momentum that actually came with the reckless act could very well leave you with a battered body and immediate regret. Both were conditions that Carmen was now noticeably coping with after attempting the foolish act herself, the Latina striker now squashed between a mountain of muscle and the corner turnbuckle.

"Hmph!!" Dasher scoffed and shook Carmen off of him now that she was limply clinging onto him, the burly grappler turning in place to position Carmen properly into the corner. Assigning each arm over the adjacent ropes before backstepping himself. He stretched out his arm and rotated it around while wincing from the lingering discomfort of the arm lock. Carmen's expert application of the hold irritating Dasher to no end along with even being caught in the hold in the first place.

"Tch...incompetent amateur." Dasher muttered out before lashing out with a stiff boot to Carmen's gut, a preliminary strike just intended to keep the Latina stunned and in place. With one of his forearms aggressively pushing up against the bottom of her chin to keep her head tilted up, Dasher would rear back his free arm and extend each of his broad fingers. An attempted open hand slap now being directed straight towards Carmen's chest from a meaty hand that has applied hundreds of thunderous chops through out Dasher's career.

"Oooriyah!!"

Sweaty, hurting, and sandwiched between the turnbuckle and the hard bulk of a large man. This was not a position Carmen wanted to be in.

And yet, there she was. Hurting and aching and hanging onto Dasher’s back. He wasn't the most powerful for she'd ever face - King held that dubious honor - but he was a lot smarter with it than most bruisers in his weight class, expertly using his awareness of the ring. The result let her stunned for a moment, and a moment was all he needed to get her trapped in the corner.

With her chest wide open. Not a good thing.

The boot to the stomach, she could take. It was hardly pleasant by any measure, of course, but she’d been suffering blows to the stomach her entire life. Carmen could cope.

The chop was a different matter. It struck as fast as lightning and hit almost as hard, instantly lighting her chest on fire with its thunderous impact. Carmen tried to bite her tongue but failed, shrieking at the searing pain. She lurched to the side and cradled her chest, taking in deep breaths to recover.

From the corner of her eye, she glared up at Dasher, making her thoughts clear: that one would cost him.

Back in his old wrestling league, a common locker room tradition amongst Dasher and his fellow muscular wrestling colleagues backstage was to see how long one man could take repeated knife edge chops to the chest before flinching. It was a machismo-laden tradition and testament to how tough you were if you could endure the grueling punishment for as long as possible, and Dasher himself saw it as a fitting test of one's inner resolve.

So it came as no surprise to him that Carmen would already be cowering in fear of him from only one of his trademark chops to her cumbersome chest. A disapproving scowl on his gruff face from what he felt was a so far pitiful performance of the Latina striker. Something he had expected from this silly girl playing with the big boys, and Dasher let his dissatisfaction be known as only someone as chauvinistic as him could.

"Hmph...You think just because you cut your hair like a man, and try to look like one, you'll be as tough as one?!?? ORA!!" Dasher gruffly barked out in his native Japanese with persistent slaps to the back of Carmen's bald head. The burly grappler feeding off his contempt while intentionally provoking Carmen with incendiary comments and demoralizing slaps. "Gonna cry?! HUH!!! SO  WHY DON'T YOU GIVE ME YOUR BEST SHOT!!!" Dasher hoarsely bellowed while shaking his fingers on both his hands in front of Carmen in a blatant "Come at me" gesture.

Carmen stood there - well, ‘standing’ might not have been the best word for it. She was leaning forward with a blank, simmering look on her face, as Dasher barked her way with a tone that would’ve made a drill sergeant blush. The slaps on the head didn’t seem to faze her much, as the vile veteran mercilessly mocked her. The crowd began to break into murmurs, not sure how to even take this from a former champion and one of Tension’s most celebrated wrestlers.

Except Army. He’d gotten a ringside seat while all this was going on, and was watching things unfold with a smirk on his face. He knew his sister well enough to know where this was going. ”Three, two…”

”My best shot?” Carmen replied to Dasher in his own language. It would never not sound weird with her accent, but she could speak Japanese fluently, a necessity with her business dealings over the years. ”Fine.”

Dasher asked and Carmen delivered, spinning around in a flash and whipping her arm out in a blur of motion, launching a powerful, swift left hook with his arrogant face as the target.

Perhaps venting his frustrations in a way that was more detrimental to his health than he was about to realize, Dasher continued to brazenly poke, prod, and genuinely provoke the fuming bull before him with reckless abandon. His brash actions mostly motivated by this entire ludicrous scenario of having to sully his hands by grappling with a deluded woman, but another reason being Carmen's stalwart and nigh emotionless demeanor this entire time.

The Latina striker callously refusing to speak up when the better wrestler addresses her, and Dasher interpreting it all as a blatant sign of disrespect on her part. His testosterone fueled rage compelling him to continue to bully and disrespect Carmen until he finally shattered that emotionless facade and expose her as just another weak-willed little girl who could never stand a chance against a wrestler of his calibre...

...well, Dasher did indeed get a reaction out of Carmen. Just not the one he was expecting.

"GOHHH!!" A whizzing blur being the last thing he remembered seeing the burly grappler was clocked against the side of his prodigious jaw!! Dasher himself spinning into a full 180 degress that nearly had him tripping over his twisted legs before he balanced himself by clenching one hand onto the nearby top rope. Rattled and seeing stars immediately, Dasher would take a stumbling step forward before reflexively turning back to Carmen with one hand on his jaw. Stunned audience members letting out a unified "OH!!!" from the echoing impact, the majority now on their feet from Carmen's appropriate answer to Dasher's chauvinistic bullying.