Blue Thunder Mask vs. Stone - Duty and Honor

Watching from ringside, Makoto had to admit it was kind of beautiful to watch Stone take flight like this. Despite her size, she was graceful in a way that she and not even Devine could really match. She went careening through the air, soared high and far, and came down on Blue Thunder Mask like a precision airstrike.

It was a perfect move. A killing move. A finishing move. More than enough impact to finish off Blue Thunder Mask if it hit.

Which it didn’t.

Not exactly.

Shit.

”Fuck sakes, come on!” Makoto smacked her fist onto the apron as Stone rolled about, cradling her bruises ribs and dealing with all of the internal damage. It felt like she’d taken a baseball bat to the gut, and it spoke volumes to her childhood that she knew exactly what that was like in the first place. Her muscles were seizing up, cramping, making it impossible to stand even if she want to. For the moment, all she could do was crumble up in a ball, doing her best to recover before Blue Thunder Mask could make the most of his opening.

The impact had been devastating. He had heard the sudden gasp, felt her weight fold out across his knees, his own legs almost buckling under her weight as she came crashing down across him without means in which to protect herself. He had winced out of instinct, the favor returned now for her having caught him out of the sky earlier. The two of them embodied why he rarely took to the ropes even if it would earn him a mighty pop from the fans. It wasn't worth the risk in almost every circumstance. He found himself rolling onto his knees, rising up as he locked eyes with Makoto, tilting his chin up at her.

As he stood himself up he turned himself back around, walking a circle around Stone to reach her legs. It would stand to reason most people after working down her arms would have gone for a quick submission there. He didn't believe she would tap though, not if she had an escape. So he had taken her escape away from here, bit by bit, working her arms down until they no longer carried the power that made up the dominant part of who she was. Reaching down her attempted to pick up her legs, tucking one in at the knee, slipping his arm down between them to clutch tightly onto her thigh. He twisted, throwing his weight into the motion to attempt to lift her up slightly, straining as he attempted to step down over her, rolling her onto her front as he reclined back down onto her with a texas cloverleaf locked in.

Raised slightly off the ground, her legs at his mercy while he cranked her ankles, stretched her back, and denied her relief for her abdomen. Her only means of escape was seemingly the ropes with no good way to leverage powering out with her legs, but with her arms as they were, could she manage it? What started out as a baffling choice of submission had soon caught on with many as chants rang out throughout the arena for him.

Stone could survive this. She could get up. She could recover.

That was what she kept telling herself, repeating it like a mantra in her mind to make it a reality. The crash landing left her aching all over, made her want to do nothing but just lay down and catch her breath, but she wasn’t quite pinnable. If anything, she was as far from that as she could be - wide awake, livid, energized. If Blue Thunder Mask wanted to pin her, he’d have to deal more damage. More opportunities would open up.

If he tried to pin her. There were other options. Less pleasant ones. Ones he seemed to be opting for as she took her legs and worked them around, tied them up into a knot, and started putting on the pressure.

”No! No, you-” Stone’s own words were cut off when a surge of pain ripped through her legs, as the cranking began and her bones whined in protest. She was trained to resist pain, had learned to deal with it, but even she’d never been through anything quite like this. It felt like her legs were coming apart at the seams, ligament by ligament, bone by bone.

She thrashed about, she pulled at her hair, she tried to drag along the mat, but her the failing strength of her arms wasn’t up to the task. All she could do for the moment was to sit, suffer, and hope that Blue Thunder Mask would drop his effective hold for some insane reason.

Blue Thunder Mask settled himself down in a deep low crouch a he supported his backwards lean by pulling back as hard as he could manage with her clutched legs. The hold was a bit more taxing on his own arms when put up against something like the far more common Boston crab, but it allowed him far more control a d kept Stone from having the ability to try to snake her way along the canvas. This was an unlikely move to be the final nail in her coffin, but it had been in his plan all along.

She was holding on, though he knew she would. Too proud, too stubborn. Even if they both wanted the same thing as an end result she hadn't held back, true to her word. She had skill, promise, but it was clear wrestling hadn't been her real focus. If she bucked down and really put in the effort he had no doubt she could be an incredibly strong contender among the Tension roster. It didn't seem as though she had real challenges until now, something to push her to be better. Maybe if he came away from this on top he could help nudge her towards improving herself.

For the time being, wrestling coaching took a back seat to securing his future in the business. The tension in Stone's limbs, her fruitless attempts to claw herself towards the ropes were signs of impending victory or injury. He wasn't sure how committed she was to throwing herself into this match on Makoto's behalf so was slightly concerned she would continue to subject herself to this pointlessly. He leaned back, turning his head to look to the gang leader at ringside.

"Call her off if you like having her in one piece." He almost snarled, a hint of contempt for the shorter woman in his voice that she hadn't stepped up already to let Stone submit on her watch. There was no denying her presence ringside had put the larger woman on the spot, it may even drive her to keep going well past her limits. While there was no love loss between her and Makoto, he had no real I'll will to her underlings after getting to speak to them both one on one.

Stone clawed at the mat, scrapped her nails against the canvas, grit her teeth so hard that she swore she could feel them cracking.

Makoto watched.

She gripped her hair tight, looking like she was ready to pull her strands out by the roots, bit her lip to keep the screams from coming out

Makoto still watched.

She stood there, one arm folded, while she chewed on her finger and mulled what to do. This match was over, that much was clear, but she’d been hoping Stone would wear him down a bit more before it came time for her turn. Makio was still game, it looked like. Still had energy to work with…

His words snapped her out of it, though. She sneered his way, muttered a curse, but she couldn’t ignore him on this one. Stone was her best lieutenant, she needed her intact. God help her if she had to rely on Devine to be her right hand.

”Fuck it.” She spat to the side, then focused forward. ”All right, enough! Stone, tap!”

There was only a momentary pause from Stone, as if she were processing the words, before the pain dragged her back to reality. Without any more prodding, she slapped her hand against the canvas, again and again and again.

Blue Thunder Mask held firm until the bell rang out making the submission valid. At that point he yanked his arms away, like pulling a tight knot into a straight rope, everything was as it should be. Stone's legs dropped to the canvas as he leaned forward to stand from his crouch along her back. He rubbed his forearm roughly as she stepped away from the biker bruiser, peering back down at her. He wanted to offer her a hand, but would that be too suspicious? It didn't take him long to consider it before stepping around her and doing so anyway. In truth, even after the grueling match he had with Makoto, it would have been something he would have offered her as well if she hadn't called in the hit squad on him. Besides, even if the leader assumed something was up, what good would it do her now. For all intents and purposes, he had beaten both hurdles thrown at him.

The crowd's roar was deafening, from both his victory and show of sportsmanship. He'd missed this in his time away. This is what he was fighting for, these people, this feeling, the entire sport of professional wrestling. The Valkyries under Makoto were a shade of what they could be for Tension. A split focus of hard ass women looking to make their mark by branding any many people as they could with a hot iron in hopes of what? Owning the AFW? Please. She might as well be a school yard bully with what he had witnessed. It was time someone took her down a peg or two when she had no easy out. His time was now, and this time there wouldn't be any more interference.

The masked hero glanced over his shoulder to Makoto standing at ringside, his eyes slowly narrowing. "Your move." His voice was lower, gruffer than normal. His opinion of her had steadily lessened the more he saw how she conducted herself while his respect for her lieutenants had only grown. He wanted to see what Stone saw in her... well, besides the obvious thing he had begun to wonder. He was thankful he hadn't had to bring that up, his tiny trump card for his match with Stone. While he could ask her later, if he won, he wasn't sure if he wished to intrude on her personal life to that degree. It made sense though.