Blue Thunder Mask vs. Makoto Takeda - Second Impressions

Had been laid out, doubled over in the ring when Makoto had called for him to be paraded up in front of her. He wheezed as Devine and Stone tugged ah his arms, dragging him to his knees. Here they were again. The three of them and him. He had played along once before

He had been laid out, doubled over as he clutched his midsection. he glared up through one eye, the other scrunched shut as he worked through the pain in his head. He drew his breezes in a wheeze as Makoto gave the order to have him paraded out in front of her. He attempted to rise on his own, only to be grabbed between Devine and Stone and dragged out before their leader. As he knelt there before her he grit his teeth, seething.

Three on one. The odds were familiar. He had played the game once, doing what he needed to survive the encounter intact. This was different. he had fought long and hard for this moment and she, no, they were ripping it away from him. Why did he think they could be reasoned with? Was he that naive? His eyes drifted out over the crowd as they shouted and booed. This wasn't what he wanted for them. How could he have let this happen. A shiver went down his spine as Devine cooed her advice into his ear, making hairs stand up on the back of his neck. She wanted him to just lay down and roll over, just like Makoto.

That of all things set him off.

He wasn't sure who he was in that moment. Blue Thunder Mask or Makio, but he didn't make the rational choice this time. Makio tried to battle to his feet, trying to throw an elbow back up at Stone and twisting launch a headbutt Devine's stomach. Part of him knew this was an unwinnable scenario. He understood this was going to go poorly... but he was going to go down fighting, and do as much damage as he could before that happened.

Makoto had this all set out. The crowd - no, the entire world was watching them right now, millions of fans expecting greatness from the new Blue Thunder Mask’s grand debut, and here she was, taking a big dump over it all. She liked that, but it wasn’t quite enough. She wanted to grind this man to a pulp in front of them, kill the dream before it could truly be born, and she was well on her way to doing just that.

That was the moment things got fucked up. Makoto didn’t know whether Makio was playing possum or if she was just fired up more than ever, ind site of the pain. Either way, it was enough to take out two of Makoto’s lieutenants.

Devine was the easy one. Though she wasn’t a weakling, she wasn’t used to taking crazy stuff from someone built like Makio. Down she went, falling on her butt, grabbing her stomach.

Stone was trickier. That elbow went deep into her stomach, a solid hit, but it was the surprise that made her step back more than anything. Either way, his gambit worked, and the two backed off of him, giving him some space to retaliate.

Unfortunately, it also gave Makoto space to charge forward, as she’d done when she saw him getting free. Now she had her boot up, and was looking to planet the bottom of her heel squarely in his face, a Big Boot meant to knock heads off shoulders.

He threw his elbow up into Stone's abdomen first, trying to bury the point as deep as he could manage. She was a big woman. From her kick along he could tell she was more than just an imposing figure, her strength was real, and something to be weary of. he was met by sudden surprised as she released him, staggering back, giving him room for... He jerked his should before whirling around to slam his head into Devine, so hard he momentarily lost his balance and had to brace himself from falling. His eyes snapped to Makoto as he scrambled to his feet, stumbling as he charged for her. It had been his turn to lose himself to answer. That swirling black pit that envelops all the light in someone. He had given himself over to it, letting it carry him at Makoto. He reared back his fist...

And now he was on the canvas.

He hadn't even gotten close enough to swing on her. There was so many things he could have done instead of what he had tried and he ignored them all. Blinded by rage he had run himself right into her boot. His head snapped back as their momentum combined had been enough to not only floor him, but flip him onto the canvas face down with a convincingly loud thud. The collective gasps and cries from the audience were so loud he could even hear them through his stupor. He stared at the mat, face pressed against it in wide eyed shock.

Somewhere off in the distance, the bell was ringing over and over, as if the Valkyries were about to stop just because the match was officially over. It was all too obvious that there reputation hadn’t gone far enough, if people thought shit like that would be effective.

There was no way that Makoto would stop now. Not when she had Makoto down, not when he’d been dumb enough to strike her girls, not when she had to pay him back for bending her in two all through the match. Her itch to hurt Blue Thunder Mask was strong, and she was about to scratch it.

Before she did, though, she dropped down and planted her knee on the back of his skull, keeping him pinned to the floor. Most often, she would’ve done something a bit more passive, but Makio was a special case. She was giving him all the concern she could. ”Just so you know, what’s about to happen to you now? This is what happens to heroes in the AFW.” She pressed harder. ”Get used to it, bitch.”

With a snort, she pushed up and pointed to Stone. ”Bend.” Then to Devine. ”Squeeze.”

Her two lieutenants nodded, both looking more eager for this than they had a few moments ago. Stone took position over his body, then reached down to grab one of his legs. Tucking it tight under her arm, she sat down on his back and started to pull back with single-leg Boston Crab, putting her power into the crushing submission. Devine, on the other hand, went for something more simple - she dropped down beside his head, pulled it between her legs, crossed them, and crushed away at him with a powerful side headscissors, smashing his skull with her toned, dancing thighs.

Bending. Squeezing.

His face twisted into the canvas as he groaned. The pressure of Makoto bearing down on him was second to his already tender facial features being ground into the mat. He opened his mouth to snap back at her. Something inspiring about Heroes rising to face challenges. Or about losing a battle but winning a war. The reality of the situation was just a choked wheeze. He winced as she used him as a stepping stone to rise back up. His fingers firmed on the ring, palms pressing down to try to rise again despite it all.

As his leg was lifted and tucked under Stone's arm he felt himself pulled back flat onto his chest before her weight lowered down on him. It was like being pinned in by a piece of heavy machinery against a brick wall. As he was roughly bent he opened his mouth but managed to hold in a scream, instead just inhaling a loud ragged breath to try to soak the pain running through him. Devine didn't have any more advice for him it seemed. She guided him into her embrace and was able to lock it in without much fight. Shaking, his hands rose up to clamp down on her legs, trying in vain to try to pry them apart. He didn't have anything left though. This was it.

The fact he had been unable to do anything to prevent them from having him this way now was the most painful part, though Stone's technique at the application of pain came in at a close second. Had his wits been about him, and not suffering in a cloud of misery he likely would have been impressed. Regardless of the pain, or oxygen deprivation, he quirmed and fought, his free leg digging its boot into the canvas as he tried to push himself.... to where? No rope break would save him now. He didn't want anyone to see him like this... But he would be defiant until the end. No matter how hard they tried or succeeded in breaking him in body, he wouldn't give any of them the satisfaction of breaking his spirit.

Perhaps that counted for something.

Makio tilted his head, as limited as his movement was glaring up at Makoto through lidded, pained eyes. He wanted her to get a good look at this, see what it was she had orchestrated. He wanted this to be seared in her mind. He made himself a promise that this wasn't how things would end between the two of them.

Next time there wouldn't be her lieutenants.

His ears started to ring, a soft hum at first that crept in slowly until it deafened his senses. There was a looming darkness around his vision, blinking didn't seem to help.

Next time... He would make her pay.

Devine just sighed and clamped down on her headscissor, giving Blue Thunder Mask an extra twist for his impudence. ”I did want you between my legs.” She gave him a hard jolt, just out of spite. That headbutt to the gut hurt, damn. ”Just not like this. I did warn you, hot stuff.”

She and Stone worked in tandem, squeezing and breaking Makio down. Stone would power away on his leg stretch away, testing the tendons, and then she would ease up - only for Devine to crank up the pressure, taking away his breath, making his neck crack, suffocating him.

Makoto should have enjoyed this. She stood there, arms folded, scowling, steaming, expecting there to some kind of satisfaction. Makio was hurting. This little punk, this little shit, was on the floor, a shining example of what happened when she didn’t give the Valkyries what they wanted.

And yet, the whole thing was hollow. Empty. Meaningless.

So why was she doing this, then? ”Fuck this.” She ran a hand across her throat, silently ordering Devine and Stone to let go, and they did so after a moment of awkward glances toward each other. Her two lieutenants stood up and backed away as she came in and crouched near his head.

”Japan has, like a hundred different wrestling organizations. Most probably pay better than here.” She gripped him by the hair and lifted his head up, making sure they made eye contact. ”Pick one, hero. Tension belong to me.”

Why was he fighting it? Between Devine and Stone, there was next to nothing to be done. The struggle was ultimately pointless. His vision cloudy, his body screaming at him to just let himself fade away so he couldn't feel this any longer. But he fought hard to stay conscious. His final and only real act of rebellion he had left. His hands had slipped away from Devine's legs, and resistance with Stone's wrenching of his leg had nearly ceased entirely.

Was his career about to be over? He had been warned when signing his contract that things could get rough here but he never expected this. Not a single soul had come from the back to help. Was it because he was new or because these women really were a force to be reckoned with? He found himself, in the moment biased towards the latter.

The damage had been done when he was finally allowed to crumble against the canvas. His first act was to draw in the deepest breath he could, nearly choking himself on it. He pressed his forehead to the mat, hacking uncontrollably as Makoto overshadowed him. As she jerked his head up by the hair he winced, eyes bloodshot as he stared back at her. "After... the warm welcome?" He rasped in a low hardly audible tone. He was finding it hard to summon his voice at the moment. Devine had quite literally taken his breath away. "I'd be remiss to turn back now." He chuckled softly, wheezing all the while.

It was funny, in a way. Makoto knew he wasn’t going to listen to reason. Her girls knew it. The audience knew it. A blind, deaf and dumb man could’ve sussed it out. But she asked, anyway, and lo and behold, he gave her the expected response, as sure as the sun rose.

Makoto wasn’t surprised. Not really. Just annoyed.

With a snort and a roll of her eyes, she pushed his head away and stood straight, turning away from him without another word. She made her way out of the ring with her lieutenants closed behind, hopping down to the floor and getting on the bikes in short order. A blank, steely face on the entire time.

”Let’s ride.”

With that, the Valkyries drove up the ramp, leaving a trail of gas and coughing fans in their wake.

He managed to keep his head from lulling back to the mat as Mokoto gave it a shove. She hadn't been impressed seemingly with his show of tenacity. That was fine. It wasn't for her. It was for himself and the fans. As the bikers left the ring and found their way to their bikes, he pushed himself up to be still on his knees in the ring and watch them go. He remained still and held off on trying to stand. He could feel a creepy dizziness and thought it best to give himself as much time as he could before making the climb to his feet.

Next time he'd have to be prepared. He wasn't about to let this go, and doubted neither were they.

He planted a boot on the mat, bracing his palm to it as he staggered to his feet. He leaned to one side, keeping most of his weight off the leg Stone had worked over. As they drove up the ramp, he let Makoto leave his sights. She wasn't his concern for now. His eyes slipped between the two lieutenants as he rubbed at his neck. He'd need to make sure they weren't around next time. He already had a vague idea of what he wanted to do, but knew the road ahead of him was going to be a minefield to navigate. He wasn't looking forward to it.

He turned on his heel, looking through the crowds as he raised a fist to thunderous applause. His grim expression softened as he heard the chants and soaked in the good vibes. They didn't seem to care he had just been raked over the coals. They were just happy to see him getting back up. He was a bit envious of all of them but at the same time humbled. "Tokyo! I will -always- be with you!" He pumped his arms with the chants as he looked up the empty ramp.

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

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

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

Their battle had ended, but a war was brewing.