Eliza Harenwood vs Marc Troyard - Take it seriously!

Eliza enjoyed the feeling of leading in a fight, asserting herself and displaying the prowess of years of training. Marc had allowed this to happen and perhaps should have reconsidered his decisions, regardless Eliza was very much in the driver seat right now. Still she abided by the rules of engagement, hence why she let Marc go. If anything it often benefitted Eliza, when opponents tried to place her into submissions that targeted the legs Eliza would often seek sanctuary at them to avoid as much damage as she could. Still it felt good to at least stretch the count, during her time in Tension Eliza had learned to be not so formal given its relatively lawless nature.

Marc was clearly losing his grip on where he was, Eliza could hardly blame him. After all Eliza often targeted the head and neck area of her opponents to whittle them down to a much more manageable size, nullifying many who had the advantage of height and strength against the dancing passion. All according to plan, Marc just made it more easier for the British aristocrat. As much as Eliza liked to espouse the values of hard work she would not say no to making things easier for herself like anyone else would.

Eliza chose not to press an offence with Marc at the ropes, it would be all to easy to simply send her over them after all. But still Marc complimented Eliza's skill instead of catching his breath, Eliza lifted an eyebrow. Perhaps she did more damage than she thought to him. Ms Harenwood simply smirked, many a man and woman would comment on the power that Eliza's legs possessed. Many still wanted to have her use them on them. But that was not the time and place for it. Instead the dancing passion would re-enter her stance and prepare for Marc's counter or whatever he was going to try, but with his seemingly delirious state Eliza was curious as to what he may try........

All that Marc knew was that he was near the ropes, everything else is a bit hazy at that point. Tends to happen when you have your head kicked in. That and taking a mighty squeeze from the Dancing Passion. Some would have made the grave mistake of thinking she isn't all that tough or strong. Her dance-trained legs said otherwise. "Gahh....phew...Jesus... He did have to make sure there wasn't going to be another surprise attack from the Darling of Tension, just pulling himself up as he watched Eliza standing there. Probably because of courtesy (maybe not, since she did attack him near the ropes) that she didn't press offense on the Gentleman.

One might thing that she did do more damage than she thought when he still managed to compliment him, even when Eliza did choke him to near tapping out, there wasn't a mad bone that would curse or look at her mad. He of course did take a little breather, as he straightened himself up, though not as much as he would require. Marc did exert a lot of energy there. Eliza didn't reply to her, simply getting back to her stance again and gave a smirk. Nothing at all? Ah damn. Oh well, guess it's back to action again.

"Maybe she liked that compliment. I mean, it's no lie! Better not have made her mad at you, Marc! Now go and show him what a man you are! Yeah, nice encouragement there.

Though what else can he do? At that point, Marc pretty much shown Eliza what he can do already, which is striking at anything in sight, and his semi-reluctance to really hurt the woman was still in effect. Effective as they may be, his skills were only limited. But he would press on and work with what he has. He was a man after all. If you're gonna go down then go down having given all that you have. Maybe Eliza would respect that. Pitiful as it may seem...

Marc Troyard would simply move away from the ropes and come towards Eliza, slower and flat footed than earlier in the match, even his guard was noticeably weaker to those with a keen eye. For his attempt, he would do what he knows and do best, getting close enough to throw a right hook, more wide than usual and aiming at the head area.

Eliza was suspecting Marc would press an offence after recovering from his torture session at the legs of the British aristocrat, he seemed the type to so do with his body. Still Ms Harenwood would not be deterred, in fact Eliza would proceed to continue wearing down Marc for as long as he kept going. Marc had shown that he could throw hard punches, but to Ms Harenwood it wasn't something that was major to her. In fact it would be interesting to outstrike him, to prove that Eliza could apply a different style and cut around Marc rather than cut through.

She entered her stance as Marc moved towards her, Eliza knew that Marc was still reeling and therefore was relying more on instinct than anything else. Eliza stayed calm, she had faced down men as big and imposing as Mr Troyard before and prevailed. As opposed to usually being on the offence here Eliza instead waited, Eliza suspected her opponent was acting on instinct. He was a bit of a fool the dancing passion pondered inwardly, Eliza would have retreated and bought a chance to regroup longer. By choosing to press the assault Marc left himself poised for a counter.

Eliza clocked the right hand incoming at her, in one fluid motion the dancing passion would dodge low and to the side. So that the blow would go clean over her and in response Eliza would move right and leap into a jumping butterfly kick, aimed right at smacking Marc silly in the side of the head! Paper beats rock and Eliza read Marc like a book.....

With the damage that he had took so far from the match, he had to rely on what he knows when the chips may be down. It might have been brave or foolish to keep trying the same tactic though there have been people winning with a strategy so straightforward. Notably, the boxers that his style is inspired from. 

However, this isn't a boxing match and with a match that can allow a myriad of styles, straightforward can also mean predictable. It is very easy to lose in a battle of rock, paper, scissors with an opponent who fails to be unpredictable. Which is what Eliza took advantage of, Marc refused to regroup and just went on the attack. Which might be a mistake that he will no doubt pay for.

The right hook was not hard to read, the Dancing Passion ducking under his fist as it swung for her, using her size and speed to her advantage before Eliza performed something that he wasn't expecting and probably would compliment...if he'd even has his wits with him.

"Puugh!" His head snapped to the side as Eliza's stocking-clad foot smacked him right in the side of his head, his arm hitting air while her attack hits it's mark! Pun intended. The Perfect Gentleman stumbling at the direction where the kick went, his feet carrying him to his left where his leg buckled underneath him and falling to one knee...more of a lunge of sorts, his pride of being a man and his experience of taking a beating is probably keeping him from falling face first to the mat. "Guuh..." Speaking of faces, the notable red mark (again pun intended) visible on his head. Rock by the kick, he tried to spin and rise up, though the act did made him a bit more dizzier than he'd like, relying on instinct even more. Gonna go down, then do so swinging. 

Though he probably would take it the most literal sense as he went for what seems to be another suicide mission and stumbling pathetically towards the Darling of Tension and even more so, trying the same move...though with the other fist. Like that makes his chances better....

Marc was simply making it easy for Eliza to batter him at this point, an optimum strategy would be to withdraw and gather yourself. Usually at this point in the match Ms Harenwood would be concerned about tiring herself out before her opponents did, however it seemed that Marc was simply running on autopilot at this point. Making it more easy in Eliza's court to bring the pain to Mr Troyard, if the dancing passion did not know any better she would muse that Marc was getting off on this. Many a man often wished to face down Eliza Harenwood, many would probably regret it later after facing her. It mattered little to Eliza, she simply fought to win!

The problem here was Marc was trying to beat Eliza in a strike contest, instead of being smart he was throwing himself practically into his attacks. But Eliza was accustomed to it, she could dodge and deflect the attack with grace and counter with a powerful blow. Indeed it was quite a spectacle to see Ms Harenwood dominate in a direct strikefest, flowing like water and striking like thunder. The crowd loudly vocalised their approval of the British aristocrat's accuracy and movements.

Not learning his lesson Eliza noted, Marc was trying for another strike but this time with his other arm. Eliza was expecting this, Marc pressed the offence everytime that he could. Eliza promptly reoriented herself and prepared to respond to Marc's next move. Eliza knew she needed to keep focusing on the head area, the British woman would tilt herself to the side and jump forwards. Grabbing Marc's head with both hands and seeking to drive her left knee clean into Marc's chin to send him back with a powerful upper!

While Marc was a smart guy, he does have very good academics under his belt, his brain at the moment was rattled and was unable to really do some critical thinking for this match. Which is certainly needed for this tricky dancer if he has any chance of winning. Unluckily for him, the aftereffects were really starting to take its toll on the Perfect Gentleman, his body just relying on instinct than anything else and his fists swing towards Eliza rather aimlessly. He was off his game, despite possibly doing well to match Eliza in the striking game, lacks the grace, poise, finesse and pinpoint accuracy that she has. No doubt his lack of refinement has failed him. And now is about to bite him in the ass.

Inwardly, he would admit he was getting off from it somewhat though the prideful gentleman inside would outwardly admit that he was just trying to keep on, not wanting to be shown as a weak individual in the direct strikefest. But the Dancing Passion seems to be proving better than he is, the crowd not hiding that they were behind Eliza.

He kept on, no doubt tiring himself out as he keeps charging in and trying to strike at the aristocrat but Eliza was way prepared for that. Marc's arm swung and once again, missing it's target, leaving him open for Eliza to counter. And a spectacular counter indeed, leaping forwards towards the Perfect Gentleman. Everything went fast for him, one moment his head was grasped by her soft hands and next he would find her knee meeting his chin! "Guugk!" If that didn't rattle his brain to the point it is bouncing around that dense skull of his then nothing would. The chin being a tender spot, his head snapping up so that he saw the lights, blinding as they are, the man stumbling back. And the effects of it had his brain rattled even more, his vision more blurry, a glassy look in his eyes as he falls to one knee, the crowd giving another cheer for the Dancing Passion.

Things were not looking good, taking a lot of hits, an inability to really think straight. He could taste some copper inside his mouth. Was he bleeding? His tongue would search if his tongue was indeed cut while waiting for his vision to realign. Seeming impatient, Marc's hands pressed on the canvas, looking really wobbly as he slowly got up, breathing in hard from his nose. His tongue was bleeding but only a bit, though it is rather annoying to feel. Stumbling around, deciding to abandon strategy and just attack. Only thing he knows what to do. A fighting man till he goes down.

Marc's eyes trying to focus in on Eliza as he stumbles side to side, though coming near to the Darling of Tension, stupidly going for another strikefest, attempting, what he would think, a flurry of punches towards the aristocrat. Though in reality, his strikes lacked any sort of power whatsoever and was just throwing his arms at her instead.

Eliza wondered if she just might have overdone with that strike, all those repeated blows to the head were liable to break something after all. Ms Harenwood reasoned that Marc obviously was a tough man, many had taken blows like that before and were left in a prime position to just be out of it. No matter, Eliza would simply response by continuing to do battle against Marc. From how he was acting right now it was only a matter of time before the dancing passion would be able to administer the finishing blow, Marc just left too many openings for Eilza to gladly exploit.

The British woman waited for Marc to prepare himself as best he could, Eliza preferred to set things up with a standing opponent after all until she was confident a submission hold would reap profit for her. Still Ms Harenwood was confident the end could certainly approach soon if she kept this up. Marc it seemed was sticking to his guns and making no attempt to try and mix things up. Fine by Eliza, to beat her in a striking contest it was going to take more than straight up force to out perform Eliza in that category!

Marc was out of it, operating out of instinct more than anything else. His strikes were amounting to little more than wild arm movements, he was in Eliza's sights now! Eliza would step back in response to the attacks. Let Marc get some ground, make himself more exposed. Eliza would wait for when Marc left his chest open she would proceed to jump up and deliver a dropkick aimed right at Marc's solar plexus to send him hopefully on his back for a bit!

If anything, the only thing that Eliza might have broken would be his brain with how much repeated knocks to his head was starting to affect his noggin. He maybe tough and had so far took a lot of blows from the Dancing Passion but toughness really could only take you so far. His lack of skill outside striking was exposed. Not only that, he himself was exposed to the many options and ways Eliza could come in and attack.

Marc could only do what he could do and that was to throw his hands. Any attempt at a kick would probably have him falling down faster than you could say "idiot". There wasn't anything wrong with sticking to ones guns and committing to the striking contest. That is if you have the skills and not have a head that is already kicked in. Power and brute force isn't enough. Precision, speed, technique and accuracy is also needed, something that Eliza has in spades. And it is something that she is showing with such grace that the audience was getting a treat in watching it!

That being said, Marc really lacked that power and brute force, lacking any sort of form with his 'punches' and just turning into wild movements with his arms than anything else. Against a skillful and graceful woman like Eliza, his defense...if you could call it that...was full of holes that she could exploit. And if the opening was so big that she could use a big move on him then it was really a problem. The Perfect Gentleman's chest was soon the target to another attack, courtesy from Eliza's famous legs, her stocking clad feet driving right into his solar plexus! "Guugh!" Didn't need much to put him down though that would do the trick as he falls to the canvas like a tree! "Unnfh!"

As the action goes on, Marc becomes slower and slower to get up with each spectacular strike delivered by the Darling of Tension herself. He certainly took a bit of time on his back, coughing and sputtering with the blow landed on his chest. For now, Marc would slowly take his time to sit up, clutching his chest. With the condition he is in, it will take a while for him to get back to his feet again.

Well, that is if the British Aristocrat doesn't do anything else....

That would do it! Eliza hoped to herself inwardly, she had just battered Marc eight ways to Sunday and it wasn't even the weekend yet. Marc just hadn't taken a freaking hint this entire time, though he did take all those shots like a champ. Many a man would have already fallen down now and probably out of it by this point in a match.

Marc had limits however, finally now did it feel as though Eliza was beginning to take Mr Troyard to lala land good and proper. Eliza was on her back after that dropkick, but she blasted out both of her legs into Marc's chest to send him to the mat. With all this back and forth Ms Harenwood actually lay there for a brief period, to just catch her breath. "Am I actually getting him down now?" Eliza thought to herself, she casted her gaze down to see that it was indeed now having an effect.

Marc was slow, Eliza smelled proverbial blood. If she could land just one more blow, but it would take energy. And in this exchange Eliza had already expended most of it delivering powerful blow after blow on Marc. Could he really handle the kitchen sink being thrown at him?

Fuck it, time for one last strike to the head. Eliza scrambled up to a crouched position, aiming at Marc and taking his head clean off. She would take a deep breath, then she sprinted into a running start. Eliza would run at her opponent when he was vertically inclined enough and then try to jump up and spin around to drive her heel right into the back/side of the head with a shining wizard style kick, done with a pirouette spin added right to it!!!!!

Marc wasn't the biggest of the bunch, far from it. But he believed that he was tough just like them or perhaps. From the shots that he took from the Dancing Passion, it definitely showed. It was not to say that Eliza's attacks were not strong at all, far from it in fact. Just that he would probably walk into a bar, finding himself getting beat up by a large group and would come out just flashing his charming smile. Sure, he'd have a lot of big bruises and his insides would hurt like absolute hell, but Marc Troyard was a man that he could handle anything and the kitchen sink thrown at him.

At least he thought he could. Everyone has their limits after all and it was starting to show. The man that never knows when to quit. Even when he tries to get back up, the Perfect Gentleman was struggling. The British Aristocrat had been making progress before, though this time, it was becoming more evident that Marc was nearing to his limits. And she decided to bet it all with just one more kick from her lethal legs and feet. The crowd could bet on that. It hadn't failed her before and it perhaps wouldn't fail her again.

Just sitting up, Marc coughed and clutched his chest, that dropkick felt like a shotgun shot right into his chest. Oh how he had realise how strong the legs of the Dancing Passion really were. Though if the dropkick was a shotgun blast then what was coming next would probably be compared to an anti-aircraft cannon.

His eyes widened and before he could really get a sound out, let alone a word, the elegant Darling of Tension leaped and spun gracefully, with how fast she turned to show how much force was put into it, slamming her heel right into his skull with lethal force, striking him clean! "Ghhk!!" Heck, it felt that his head was near to coming off his shoulders! Knocking pretty much most of his senses far, far away from him. The man fell to the side hard afterwards. The Perfect Gentleman couldn't even register the match any longer beyond the many devastating attacks that the Dancing Passion sent upon him. It was pretty much just pure, straight up stubbornness that was keeping Marc awake at this point. But even for him, it was running short.

At best, The Perfect Gentleman was just hanging onto consciousness by the fingertips. And even though his mind wants to keep fighting, like that fighting spirit is telling him to, Marc wasn't gonna sit up from this anytime soon....