Blue Thunder Mask vs. Makoto Takeda II - Beat It

Rolling, rolling, keep rolling. Makoto was close now, just a little further. If she could make it to the mat, she could get under the apron, grab a chair, maybe a fire extinguisher, maybe even a kendo stick if she got really lucky, and then this match would get extremely interesting.

The problem was, though, that Blue Thunder Mask wasn’t nearly as dumb as he looked, and had enough presence of mind to grab her before she could fall off the apron. He snagged her hair, which was a big enough pain in the ass by itself, but he had to go and grab her shirt, too.

”Piss off!” She swung her fist upwards, trying to clock him in the face and get free. Making him let go of the hair was a top priority. The shirt she was willing to part ways with, if need be. She wasn’t wearing a bra underneath, but it wasn’t like she had all that much to show off. Besides, she worked for the AFW, so it was probably only a matter time before that sort of thing happened, anyway.

Blue Thunder Mask twisted his body at the wild punch thrown up his way. Even that hadn't been enough as she caught him right beside his eye. Trying to avoid the blow hadn't helped his efforts to hold her, he felt his grip slipping.

There was a chance he could still hold her, but there was no way, from the way he was hunched over through the ropes like this he could actually drag her back to the ring. He relented, letting her free as he backed off back into the ring. Following her outside would be a mistake. Even if she armed herself, his advantage was she would need to get herself and whatever she grabbed back into the ring to make use of it on him.

He opted to give her a bit of distance nursing the side of his head. Though the more he waited the more anxious he got. Giving her room to breath was a mistake. He could use it too, but she was already on the run. He swore softly under his breath as he took a few steps back.

He surged forward, running towards the ropes with a almost hopping gait thanks to his battered leg. When he got close enough, he threw himself forward, through the ropes to try and tackle Makoto back into the barricade with a suicide dive. He wasnt one to normally do these sorts of moves due their career ending potential, but given this could be his very last match, he had to pull out everything he had.

Makoto breathed a sigh of relief - as much as she was able to in the current circumstance - when Blue Thunder Mask relented and let her go, allowing her to tumble to the outside, seemingly giving up on his attempt to drag her back inside. It would’ve been ideal to drag him out, too, but honestly, she wasn’t going to be picky about that. He either followed her out and let this match leave the ring, or he waited for her to come back inside and gave her time to recover and bring a weapon. No countout. Nothing to worry out. Oh, yeah, the crowd would boo, but fuck them. She could sit out there as long as she needed to.

Makoto fell to her knees and started rooting around under the apron, sliding her hand through the darkness, fumbling for objects. The table? Maybe she could set that up later. No time for it now. The fire extinguisher? That gave her ideas, but nothing she could really take advantage of at the moment, either. But the steel chair she wrapped her fingers around? Oh, that had some immediate, promising implications.

She pulled it out, stood back up on wobbly feet, then turned around just in time to see Blue Thunder Mask flying towards, soaring through the air on a deadly collision course.

A combination of luck and reflex were the only thing that saved her, and even then, they didn’t really ‘save’ her in the most meaningful way. She swung the chair and struck him hard in the head or the upper chest area. Somewhere in that vicinity. She wasn’t able to properly tell, however, because she was too busy getting rammed hard into the barricade, hitting with enough force to move it a couple of inches.

The result left her crumpled up on the floor with the chair, clattering off a few feet away, hissing as the raw pain through her back. Her only hope was that Blue Thunder Mask was the one who’d came off worse from that little exchange.

Blue Thunder Mask had been asked on more than one occasion why he didn't perform more high flying maneuvers. He knew them, had even pra tired many of them for the sake of having them at his fingertips. Had he never used them in his matches? Rarely if ever. Tonight had been the most brazen he had been as it came to from the ring to the outside, it had subsequently also fully justified his dislike of these moves.

In the time it took him to get from one side of the ring to the other, he had already had his regrets. As Makoto blasted him with a steel chair mid flight, his regrets deepened. By the time he plowed into him and tell two combatants went careening into the barricades together, he was lost adrift an ocean of regret.

His arms had taken the brunt of the force, they have been raised for the drive to crash into Makoto. When she bashed him with the chair, it had impacted along his arms and his head as well leaving a noticeable dent in the seat of the chair. Once he had actually plowed into her, he had lost track of performing the actual move and just became a crude wrecking ball. The two of them hit the barricade, her body giving him a slight measure of cushion, though it wasn’t much.

He rolled to the opposite side she had fallen to, laying on his side, blinking wide eyed. He reached up with a shaky hand, feeling his head. The slight prodding of his fingers caused a sharp pain which had him hissing through a bit lip. Even rolling over seemed too difficult at the moment as he groaned on the floor.

Backstage, Devine and Stone had met up in the gorilla position and found a television to watch the match in front of, deciding it was best to stay far away from this fight until it was done, not wanting to risk being drawn into it and inadvertently turning it into a handicap match. Blue Thunder Mask had more than enough to deal with already.

Devine had been giving Stone a gentle massage, kneading her shoulder to get out a few kinks as the larger woman sat in a chair before her, but the two of them recoiled away when they saw the crash happen. Nasty business, and not just because of the move itself. They were on the outside, now. Makoto’s territory.

Rising after that hellacious hit wasn’t a ball of fun for tiny terror, either, but she did manage to do it, using the chair for support. Even though she stumbled and fell down a knee twice, she was able to keep her smile up when she saw the dent in the chair, when she looked over and saw the fruit of her labors: Blue Thunder Mask. On the floor. Vulnerable.

Makoto had awaited this moment for a long, long time.

She brought the chair up, held it high, then sent it crashing down into the center of Blue Thunder Mask’s back, aiming for the spine.

He could see them. Little nagging bits of distorted vision that each time.his eyes shifted, they moved with it. It was a strange otherworldly feel, but not one he was unfamiliar with it. Taking a hard enough blow to the head had a way of playing tricks with ones mind. Sometimes it didn't even have to be a hard blow.

His has been catastrophic. The forced force on his body soaring and a chair coming opposite him only served to amplifying punishment he knew Makoto was capable of. It left him down, hard. The cheers weren't reaching him. His body wasn't lifting him. He was frozen in a state of pain in which the only way of coping was to remain still and bear it all.

Makoto had easily beaten him to his feet, because he hadn't even begun to rise as she brandished her weapon of choice in the moment. As it came up, he was a helpless target making for an easy shot wherever she pleased.

The steel chair clapped his across the back giving his attacker immediate feedback. “Aurrgh!” His neck tensed, jaw clenched, and back arched in response to the sting gripping his body making his mind scream louder than he ever could in reality.

He could almost image the look on her face. A malicious grin, drinking in every second he was down and writhing on the floor. The fact he wasn't able to stop her from getting satisfaction of of this all was almost as bad as the pain… almost. He struggled onto his knees and forearms, reaching up to claw for the barricade to try to start lifting himself back up.

The sound of the chair crashing down on his back, metal against bone, filling the entire arena. The way his cry of agony came out a moment later and followed the crash’s echo. The look on the audience’s face as they recoiled away, barely able to watch the slaughter unfolding before their eyes. The sensation of the blow’s impact traveling through her arms and spreading out through her entire body.

It was almost exactly how Makoto had dreamed, perfect in every way, a living fantasy. She was going to dismantle this man, leave a broken husk on the floor, and the entire world was going to watch it happen.

She didn’t swing again, not right away. She needed moment to catch her breath, and that became abundantly clear when her legs grew weak and she had to use the chair like a crutch, keeping her up on wobbly knees. It worked. She was able to keep it together. For her perseverance, she was rewarded with the sight of Blue Thunder Mask struggling to stand, attempting to rise on his own failing legs.

Defiance? No, that just wouldn't do. Not at all.

”Hey there, hero.” She sauntered up behind him, as best as she could saunter in her current state. ”Having a bad day? Mondays, right?”

She lifted the chair up and swung it again, targeting the small of his back, making sure to hit dead on.

Blue Thunder Mask was making a valiant attempt, thought it wasn't going to win him any awards, or more importantly, matches. He had pulled himself to his knees by aim of throwing an arm over the top of the barricade. He wasn't even sure what he was hoping to accomplish, getting up was the first step in a yet mapped path. He had begun to get to his feet when Makoto rounded on him again.

The chair cracked across his back, sending him back to his knees. He managed to keep hold himself from falling completely, his chin caught on the lip of the barricade. He clenched his teeth trying to keep the yellow of pain in. He stared at members of the crowd who were watching the display.

One wide set of eyes caught his gaze in the middle of those who had backed away from the divider. A young girl, she must have been no older than her early teens. He had noticed her almost immediately because she was wearing one of the shirts he had thrown into the audience earlier in the night. She was watching him with a look of concern and horror with her big youthful eyes. Somehow, the way she looked at him and as his eyes drifted, everyone around her was looking at him now… it somehow hurt far more than any chairshot Makoto could deliver onto him.

It took everything in him to give up on rising. His natural instinct was to get up and fight but she wasn't going to let that happen. Every time he would rise up it just meant she had access to hit him again and again. So he did the unexpected and dropped back to the floor on his side. Turning his head he finally saw his attacker again and her weapon of choice through pained narrowed eyes. He brought a leg in before thrusting it out to try and kick out her shin, he didn't have very many other moves left.

Down he went. Again.

The crowd hated it, of course. Couldn't stand to watch their golden boy get the screws taken to him like this, hated to watch someone like her get the better of him. That was part of what made this so delicious, but it was also what it made it a bit more difficult on her end. It wasn’t enough to just defeat Blue Thunder Mask, she needed to demolish him, rip him apart, crush everything him and idiots like him stood for.

She watched him trying to rise again, and she prepared to give him another shot with the chair, but stopped herself when she saw it all go to nothing. Down he went. Back on the floor. Flat. Right where he belong.

”Pathetic.” She tossed the chair away, getting a little tired of it, anyway. There were so many other goodies to bring out, and when she went to root around for them, she found the one she was looking for: the kendo stick.

With the weapon in hand, Makoto stepped towards Blue Thunder Mask’s body, only to wind up taking an errant kick in the shin when she was close enough. It hurt, made her yell with surprise when she struck it, but that was about it, aside from making her more than pissed off enough to do what she was going to next.

”Little fucking son of a…” She stepped over Blue Thunder Mask’s body, reached down, and brought the kendo stick under his neck. With a harsh pull, she lifted him up and pressed his back against her chest, holding him close and crushing his throat, choking the life out of him and forcing him to look out to his adoring crowd while he choked and sputtered.

Makoto had been a far sturdier target than her anticipated. Regardless of how wobbily she had been moments prior, as he threw his leg out into her shin she had hardly budged. It went without saying that this was a bad thing. Even before he had a chance to try again, she had stepped over him.

His chin was pulled back as she braced it up against her kendo stick. The bamboo slats stressed in protest as they were used to drag Blue Thunder Mask to his feet, they had never been designed to be burdened with so much weight. He reached up, grabbing hold of the solid bar of practice sword that was currently crushing his windpipe. He couldn't use it as much at first, she hadn't pulled him up fully to his feet so he was forced to do that himself.

He gagged and choked as his face started to slowly shift in hue due to lack of oxygen. There was no real dignified way to be choked out like this, especially with how it looked with their height difference. Once he had gotten his footing however, he was capable of putting up a fight again.

Gripping the kendo stick tightly, he began to pull down on it. He had the benefit of not having to really reach out, allowing his arms to remain close to his core. Only having to rely on his shoulders to take on the burden, it made it easier on his end. It was her end that was the problem though. He just needed to get it down a little further. He twisted from side to side as he tried to work the kendo stick out from under his chin, pulling it down so it was pinned instead against his collar where it couldn't really do any harm.

If he had managed to get the kendo stick far enough down, he would finally be able to mount a counter attack. He leaned his upper body back slightly more than threw it all forward, sending his hips back into Makoto to try to knock the wind out of her while taking out her firm grounded stance. In time with this, he pulled down hard on the kendo stick, trying to use it as leverage to flip her over his head and plant her onto the top of the barricade on her back.