Blue Thunder Mask vs. Makoto Takeda - Second Impressions

Match Type: Standard
Victory Conditions: Pinfall, Submission, or KO

***

Everyone knew the routine. Everyone who regularly watched the AFW, anyway.

The Valkyries’ theme music hit and the trio came out on top of the ramp shortly after, arriving to a thunderous wave  of boos and jeers as the pulled up on their motorcycles. Then came the long - some would say too long - drive down the ramp, moving as if they didn’t notice the wave of hate around them. Then they parked their choppers around the ring, took off their helmets, and  took center stage in the middle of the squared circle. Rather routine for them.

Today, though, there were a few interesting wrinkles. First and foremost, the Valkyries weren’t just beating around some no-name guy, they were taking on Blue Thunder Mask, the Blue Thunder Mask...or, at least, the most recent one to take the mantle. In his AFW debut, no less. Kind of a big deal. Many in the audience respected the legacy, and didn’t want the trio tarnishing it.

Also, while it wasn’t unusual for their leader, Makoto, to have something to say, it was a little weird for her to do right at the beginning of a match. She had a microphone in hand, and was pacing about the ring while her two lieutenants took up position at opposite turnbuckles. The moment she opened her mouth to speak, she was met with a fresh wave of boos, but if the crowd thought that was going to make her stop, they were sadly mistaken.

”Oh, now, what the fuck is this?” She smirked and spun about, looking out around the entire audience. ”You all seem a little salty today? What’s wrong? Not enough hentai matches on the program? Didn’t get to see your favorite girl naked? Am I interrupting your little group wank session with a real goddamn fight?”

One might’ve thought it impossible for the crowd to boo harder. One would be wrong.

”Well, I’m sorry about that, kids. But we have to do this today. See, it’s come to my attention that, perhaps, some in the back don’t know who we are. Don’t understand that Tension belongs to the Valkyries. See, that shit? That shit cannot fly. I need you people to know me, to understand the pecking order. Valkyries, up top…” She raised her hand high. As high as she could go. Which wasn’t too high at all, but the point was served. ”Everyone else, down here.” She dropped her hand low. ”Boot level. So simple, even an AFW fanboy can understand it. But, just in case the point needs further hammering, think of this match as a public service announcement. When Blue Thunder Mask is on the floor, crying and sweating and wondering where his teeth went, I want everybody in the back to remember one thing. Just one thing.”

Makoto spun about and pointed straight at the hard camera, gazing towards it with an impish grin. ”This could be you.”

The Theme:

As the lights dimmed to a pale ambient glow, so to did the boos die with it.There were soft murmurs and building electricity in the stands as blue and yellow spotlights danced over the crowd before converging on the entryway. Nobody came out.

"Tokyo!" The spotlights snapped from the entryway, floating through the crowd at random, as if searching. "I am with you!" Finally the spotlights converged in one spot, far in the back. He was sitting circled by fans with his boots kicked up on the chair in front of him dressed to the nines in the iconic ring gear that traveled with his namesake. He wore a T-shirt with a image of his mask overlayed over a crashing storm of blue lighting, his name spelled out along the edges. "It sounds like I'm going to need a good dentist, any recommendations?" His high spirited laughter echoed through the crowds, prompting the fans to laugh and cheer along with him. Arms thrown wide, Blue Thunder Mask shrugged as if to say 'oh well' before smiling wide to show those lovely white teeth he was about to lose. The crowd roared to life as chants broke out throughout the arena.

"THUN---DER THUN---DUER... MAAAAAAAAAAASK!"




Makio couldn't help but be a bit surprised. Filling the boots of another man, dawning his face, it seemed as though he was walking in the footsteps of giants. He was no stranger to a hefty fan reaction, but nothing like this. He couldn't help but wonder is the Valkyries being so desired only served to elevate him higher.


"THUN---DER THUN---DUER... MAAAAAAAAAAASK!"



As he sprang to his feet, fans clamored around him abuzz with excitement he delivered high fives and waved to those to far from him. He took the descent in a healthy jog, at one put just throwing his arms to the side to brush his hands against rows of fans reaching for him. As he reached the bottom he leapt up onto the barricade, putting himself nearly level with the women in the ring, but at a distance. Placing a hand to his chest, he bowed with flourish to thunderous applause. "You're in good spirits tonight I see, ladies. What do you think Tokyo?" He held out the microphone behind him, a chorus of boos rang out as he laughed, waving a hand for them to settle. "Not yet? Fair enough. You can't blame a man for trying."

"THUN---DER THUN---DUER... MAAAAAAAAAAASK!"




The house lights slowly came back up, leaving everything in the arena visible again. Reaching reached down, his fingers curling around the base of his shirt as he drew it up and of, twirling it in the air before throwing it into the crowd for some lucky fan to keep.

With a large bound he transferred himself from barrier to ring apron nearest Devine. He paid the woman a small two finger salute before jogging along the outside of the ring to an empty turnbuckle. With practiced ease he had already ascended and seated himself, a leg dangling inside the ring as he spoke into the microphone. "You know, it's not to late to reconsider this. I'm sure everyone here would understand." He arched his brows, smiling as the fans all around them booed and jeered at the three.

Dawning the mask, Makio was far different than the soft spoken steely eyed man from there first encounter. Here, he was boisterous and full of boundless energy, body in a near constant state of motion. He carried himself with an easy charm, despite his small jabs at the Valkyries, none of them came off as malicious so much as him having a bit of fun. He gave the microphone a small twirl, waiting to see if Makoto had anything else to air before they got this started proper.

There were few times when Makoto was surprised by anything - or, rather, when she appeared to be surprised. That was part of the package deal that came with leading the Valkyries. She didn’t get scared. She didn’t flinch. She kept her shit together through and through, stayed the badass biker bitch she wanted to be instead of the ditzy schoolgirl the world thought she should be.

But that changed the moment she saw Blue Thunder Mask’s entrance. Before she knew what was happening her jaw was hanging down and her eyes were widening. Holy fuck, she had not seen this coming.

It was intricate, grandiose, booming - everything the vast majority of entrances in Tension, hell, the entire AFW were definitely not. The crowd took an instant loving around the guy, fawning about him, as if begging for a chance to just touch the hem of his garment, and that was hardly the only weird thing, here.

Makio’s entire schtick took her off guard, pulling off a Clark Kent/Superman thing, but she managed to regain some composure by the time he finally reached the ring, making his way over in the flashiest way possible.  Devine returned his salute by blowing a kiss his way, and even Stone couldn’t hold back an amused smirk.

For her part, Makoto just cracked her knuckles, keeping on the too-cool-for-school face, not letting all get to her. So, he had a sweet entrance. So what? She was still going to beat his ass from pillar to post.

She brought the  microphone to her mouth, prepared to throw a comeback his way, and...decided not to at the last second. ”Fuck it.” She threw the microphone and waved Devine and Stone off, her associates quickly taking the hint and scurrying off to watch at ringside. She was eager to get this started - couldn’t 100% explain why. The shininess, the glow, the superheroiness of it all. Something about Makio’s - Blue Thunder Mask’s, whatever - whole demeanor made her want to bash his face in. The sooner the bell rang, the sooner she could scratch that itch.

Up came her fists, tight and solid. She started to bounce, getting into her groove, wanting to see how Makio would kick this thing off.

He had seemed like he was waiting for something more. A witty retort, some manner of verbal low blow. He cracked a smile at her complete lack of words, taking it almost as a compliment she had nothing to shoot back at him. Hopping down from the turnbuckle he moved along the edge of the ring interior with a bit of spring in his step. Once he stepped into that ring, his eyes never left Makoto, just like in that parking lot he wasn't about to put anything past her. "A woman of conviction, fair enough. I won't waste any more of your time." He raised the microphone up in one last fist pump to the cheers of the crowd before tossing the mic down to a member of Tension staff at ringside.

Blue Thunder Mask found his way back towards the center of the ring, taking a brief moment to give Makoto a small bow of respect. As a person, as an opponent, he bore no real ill will towards her, yet. While their first encounter was what some could consider unsavory, it hadn't ended poorly. Here they were, in the ring ready to square off. It had almost been fortunate they had targeted him the way they did,  these hated individuals served as such a powerful catalyst for his debut, he almost felt as though he owed them a debt of gratitude.

Yes well, that can wait. None of that is going to mean much if she rips you apart.

He had been watching Makoto, analyzing her stance, how she distributed her weight, what she was wearing. He had no doubt her leathers afforded her some manner of protection... that is what they were for when riding a motorcycle after all. But with armor, often times mobility and utility were lost. How much of a limitation did that jacket place upon her range of motion in her arms? Would it matter? She was going to have to punch up at him if she was going for his head, but had the feeling unless he gave her ample reason to, she was going to focus her attention lower until it became an easier target. Had this been a fist fight, his height and reach would have provided him a sizable advantage, here, not as much.

The strategy was this. Keep talking. The more he spoke, the more likely it was she was going to try and hit him someplace that would shut him up. The abdomen or the face chief among them. Any time she swung high would be an opportunity. He wouldn't know for certain what her game plan was until after the bell rang, but he gave her enough credit to assume she had her own strategy in mind past just throwing punches at him. The official rattled through the match details and lack of stipulations before calling for the bell.

"Odds are feeling a bit more in my favor now. I hope you're ready." The second the bell rang he was on the move, his arms as he came at Makoto looking as if he aimed to lock up with her. He wouldn't, she didn't seem the type to humor the mainstays of wrestling, but perhaps she would take it at face value. He was prepared for three possibilities as he neared.

A punch was had been the first, specifically from her dominant side aimed at his head. From her stance, both legs positioning and shoulders and brief interactions from the other day with the few times she had gestured with one hand over the other, he was fairly certain he knew which was her go to. He'd try to skirt around a punch, attempting to duck by her to grapple her waist from the side to deliver a quick release belly to back throw on her.

The other striking alternative was a kick to the abdomen. There was no ducking that, so instead he positioned his hands at the ready to catch it should the boot come his way. If she did try to kick him, and he was able to catch it, he'd pull her back before hooking his arm and his weight under the outstretched limb to deliver a dragon screw to send her to the canvas.

The third being she did nothing. Unlikely. Very unlikely. Taken aback by his open early aggression, maybe she was somehow caught off guard like a deer in headlights. In such a case, he'd have no flashy move, he wouldn't have the time for it, and would just seek to shoulder check the woman.

Past these three things, his intuition would have led him astray and put him in a potential dangerous situation if he had miscalculated. Nothing was certain until he knew more about Makoto and her fighting style though, so his opening gambit could end terribly for him.

The referee looked nervous - more nervous than referee’s tended to whenever the Valkyries were involved, even. She kept throwing glances between Blue Thunder Mask, Makoto, and her girls, as if she expected them to pounce at any second and just start beating him around the ring. Which, to be fair, wasn’t that unlikely of occurence. There was a fair chance of that happening.

But Makoto had given Devine and Stone explicit instructions - they weren’t too jump, weren’t to interfere, weren’t to lift a single finger to help her out unless she gave them the signal. Until - no, if - that happened, they were basically just audiences members with the best seats in the house. This was all Makoto’s show.

Her eyes narrowed when he spoke, talking about odds like that was supposed to impress her. ”Fucker, I have had a height and weight disadvantage in every single fight I’ve ever had.” She snorted. ”Fuck your odds.”

The bell rang, and she could already tell that Makio was scanning her over from the first second. His stance was tight and professional, and he slid into form as easy as breathing. Going for a lockup, too. What a surprise.

Makoto raised her arms up as the crowd collectively threw warnings his way, urging their hero not to fall for the trick that was assuredly coming. Mako just locked her gaze to his as she moved forward. Inching closer...closer...closer…

When she was at just the right range, she lashed out with a fierce kick towards his shin, looking to hit him there with the tip of her boot.

"You've got a mouth on you."

When the bell had rung he committed himself to a plan, and intended to see it through. Makoto surprisingly mirrored him, but there was no way she would actually tie up with him. The fans seemed to be on a similiar page. It's alright, I know guys, don't worry. As he neared he was surprised by her patients, having expected her to be a bit more aggressive at the start. Perhaps she feeling him out as much as he was trying to feel out her. He didn't blame her, he had height and weight on her. He had seen some freakish feats of strength from some of the women of AFW, so he didn't for an instant discount how strong she might actually be.

He saw it.

The kick. But it was too low. He was too close. He'd rolled the dice and come up with snake eyes.

He wasn't sure if it was her boots, or the force behind the kick, but he felt the effects loud and clear as a shocking sting shot up through his bones to stab at his brain. His leg shifted, sliding back with the blow, not quite leaving the canvas but had gone so far only his the toes of his boots remained planted. Dropping to one knee as a direct result, this was one of the last places he had wanted to be. Right in her face, in a prime state of vulnerability. There was no real betting on outcomes now, to many variables. He needed something to work off, trying to lunge for her now, like this wouldn't give him any solid openings. Stall and sweep. He had to weather what came next and go from there.

Blue Thunder Mask brought an arm up defensively, fingers wide, palm towards Makoto, preparing to try to intercept a punch if she tried to rain down a blow on him. His other arm lifted at his side, but remained there, if she attempted to kick him, on his right side, he had a chance to maybe cut her off at the pass or hook her leg to capture it. This all exposed his left flank, an unfortunate circumstance, but one glaring target was better than his entire body being at her mercy. He wouldn't give her a chance to be picky about what happened next. If she failed to act immediately, he'd pivot of his knee, swinging his leg around to attempt to sweep Makoto off her feet from the side.

”Damn right I do.”

One of these days, someone was going to try to get Makoto in a lockup, she was going to actually except it without a word of protest, and her opponent would so confused that she would get the free hit, anyway. That day was a long way in coming, but she immensely looked forward to it when it finally came. For now, she fell back on the old, familiar mainstay: kicking the shit out of her opponents when they least expected.

The kick worked and worked even better than she’d expected, dropping him down to one knee and putting him in her prime range. Short as she was, she was taller than everybody when they were on their knees.

There wasn’t any real relief. He fell to his knees and she was on him in the next moment, smelling blood in the water and acting accordingly. ”C’mere, bitch!”

She moved in close, her ideal range, and gave Blue Thunder Mask the tie-up he’d initially gone for, just a few seconds too late. She reached over, grabbed him by the shoulders to pull him in, and launched two quick knees into his opened left side, drilling him in the ribs with the hardened shots.

From the sidelines, her two lieutenants looked on, watching as their leader went into Makio. Stone found herself focusing more and more on Makoto - the way she was moving, the look in her eyes, the focus. She was always a pit bull, but tonight she was a rabid pit bull.

Almost immediately she was on him, not giving him a moments rest. It was to be expected really, regardless of how much he wished that hadn't been the case. He had expected her to be tough as nails fighter. For all his training, all those fancy wrestling moves, she had just kicked him... that was fine. This was fine. He'd have his time to  get in on her. he needed to stop overthinking and start reacting.

It wasn't any good trying to plan out the next move for someone you didn't know, whose style was so vastly different. Makoto wasn't a wrestler, was she? Seemed as though she was more of a brawler at this point. The sooner he came to terms with that, the better off he'd be.

He had instinctively felt for her arms as he was dragged forward at Makoto's behest, a solid knee to his ribs was firm hand in teaching him his early mistakes. Breaking away wasn't going to be good enough. The second knee rocked him harder, still reeling from the first. He grunted loudly as his back lifted with the blow as he ate it fully. His arms had been moving, too late to guard from her assault, but quick enough to shut her out from anything else, he hoped. He needed to capitalize on where he was now and try to gain some momentum.

Grasping around Makoto, for a brief moment it could have been misconstrued he was attempting to clinch up with her in an attempt to guard himself from further blows, or perhaps he was just groveling when faced with the biker chick's full might.

Blue Thunder Mask squared his shoulders as he kicked off the canvas with the ball of his foot. He drove himself forward into Makoto, powering past her grip on his shoulders. His arms snapped fully around the woman flexing inward as he tried to clasp his hands around behind her, one on her back, another on her thigh. Surging to his feet with large a lumbering stomp, trying to hoist her clear off the ground, as high as he could manage with the throbbing ache in his side. If he had gotten her up, the fall came in a blink of the eye. Pivoting on his heel he'd spin to bring her crashing down in a snap spinebuster, applying as much whiplash as he could manage.

There were advantages to being small. Oh, there were the obvious ones:  being able to fit into small places, being able to wear smaller and cheaper clothes, being able to get discounts in movies that she was really too old to qualify for. The fun, every day uses.

But then there were less obvious uses. People assumed that, because Makoto was small, she was weak, and couldn’t hit hard. For some reason, they never seemed to think that, underneath the leather jacket she was always wearing, there was a lot of muscle packed into a small frame, and a body that was capable of dishing out real, heavy damage if given half a chance.

She wasn’t sure if Makio had been fooled into thinking that, but if so, she seriously hoped those knees erased the illusion. They needed to be honest with each other.

”Turtling up on me?” Makio raised his arms in defense just as Makoto decided to switch things up with a couple of straight shots, throwing quick, piercing jabs into his guard. ”Think you can just OH SHIT!”

She’d thought Blue Thunder Mask was simply going on the defensive, but things turned out to be a bit more complicated than that. Suddenly his arms were around her waist, she was being lifted up, and dumped hard on her back with crushing force. That was the bad thing about being short: people could sling you around like a chidren’s toy.

The blow left her spreadeagled and staring up at the ceiling, her teeth clenched tight as she hissed curses through them.

As he plowed into Makoto, taking her clean off her feet he wasn't thinking about how much she weighed. He didn't care how small she was. He didn't even care what gender she was. Within this ring, between these ropes, from bell to bell what he saw wasn't just a person, but a competitor. Underestimating your opponent was a dangerous business, in any career where your body was on the line. As he pivoted he could feel the sudden gasp from the crowd, the rising tensions. As he threw his weight forward with a sudden shout, whipping Makoto into the canvas the ring shook with the impact, laying the leather clad woman out beneath him as he knelt between her legs. The crowd sprung to life again, roaring at the sudden turnabout!

From here he had options. Many options. But time was of the essence.

There wasn't time for fooling and appealing to the crowd. Makoto wasn't the type to let him get away with something like that. No, he had to press his advantage while he had it. Wearing her down was top priority now, he could worry about fanfare later. It seemed as though the crowds were more than happy to cheer just for putting her down. As he pushed himself up, his scooped Makoto's legs along with him, to tuck them under his arms.

"Here we go!" He threw a boot over and around the fallen biker, giving a sudden powerful wrench of her legs with the twisting of his own body as he tried to flop her onto her stomach. With her legs captured between his flexed arms, he'd lower himself down, reclining into the small of her back as he torqued her legs into a boston crab position. He wasn't taking any chances, he was going to bend her back as far as he could... she'd have done the same to him given the chance.

"You know, the tortoise won in the end, right?" He called back to her, trying to sound in high spirits. He could power through the ache in his side, better to not present the woman with weakness again. He had no doubts she wasn't down and out after two moves.