Blue Thunder Mask vs. Makoto Takeda II - Beat It

While this wasn’t the ideal way for her to win, Makoto was more than willing to take it if she could get away with it, and it was seeming more and more like that was the case. Blue Thunder Mask was putting up a fight, the fucker never knew when to quit, but she had him fairly secure. Not going anywhere, which meant she had all the time in the world to air a few grievances.

”What’d you think was gonna happen, huh?” She whiteknuckled the stick and took in Blue Thunder Mask’s face, as it started to take on the same color as the rest of his outfit. ”The Valkyries are mine, asshole. My team, my people. You really think I’d just sit back and let you take it? Think it’d be that easy.”

Just saying the words out loud seemed to piss her off even more, and she pulled him with all the strength she could summon from her tiny body. It was at this point that she finally noticed how he’d maneuvered around, and she had inkling of what was about to happen. An inkling, however, wouldn’t be enough to stop it.

Her shortness came back to bite her once more, as she was sent flipping through the air with the ease of teddy bear, though she didn’t land on barricade like one. The audience scattered as her spine came down right on the metal, nearly bending her in half on it. She slid off a moment later and came down on the opposite side of Blue Thunder Mask. And, of course, she had to come down right on a bucket of popcorn, because life didn’t suck quite enough at the moment.

She wasn't sure either Makoto had just been venting out loud, or actually telling him all this as if it would make a difference. Sympathy? Understanding? Those things were hard pressed to be found when being choked out with a kendo stick… not that he had ever tried looking for them there prior to now.

The first breath of air he had stolen in the struggle had been the sweetest he recalled taking in some time. If he didn't act though, she was set to bring it back up to his throat, this time he might not be able to pull himself free. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right.

She was stubborn, holding on tight until the end, far too late to stop the momentum of her being thrown up and over him. Detractors and even Blue Thunder Mask cringed at the grusom sound of Makoto’s back striking the barricade. He watched her slip over the side, panting as he stood hunched. He was feeling lightheaded, though he wasn't sure it was just because of the lack of air he was just subjected to. Something was off… what was it?

He shook his head as he stumbled away from the barricade. Making his way towards the chair Makoto had tossed away. Hefting the bent steel chair in his hand, he dragged it along the outside mats on his way back to the divider. Peeking over the edge he spied where Makoto lay, trying to psych himself up.

Bouncing on the balls of his feet he took a lunging step forward, throwing a hand down to vault himself up under the barricade. He swung the chair up under him, extending his legs out to drop himself down at the downed gang leader with a steel chair assisted leg drop. While he wasnt huge into swinging bats and lighttubes around, making use of weapons for his usual moves and setups? He could do that.

Security worked overtime to clear the area where Makoto had landed, knowing full well that the Valkyrie had no qualms with using force against the audience. Kind of a shame, really, since she was curious what Blue Thunder Mask would do if she had a human shield to work with. Another time, perhaps.

Now, though, she decided a little siesta was in order. Her back was a fiery, aching pain, but her current position wasn’t the worst thing. Blue Thunder Mask would need a moment to get after her, a moment she could take to rest and recoup.

Makoto laid on the floor, closed her eyes, and waited. And waited. And waited. She wasn't’ sure how long she’d been on the ground, but it felt like a good, long while, and she couldn’t imagine why he wouldn’t be attacking her or doing something to follow up. It wasn’t like he could do anything big from this position, so…

She got her answer only a few seconds later, as she’d just started to sit up. A shadow came over her, an eclipse, and she looked up to see Blue Thunder Mask vaulting over the barricade and descending on her. With a chair. ”Oh, god-”

The man landed with a sickening crash, nailing Makoto into the floor like a giant hammer. An ear-shattering shriek came from the Valkyrie’s lips as she rolled away, covering her chest, and kicking and screaming and knocking chairs about. She finally came to a stop a few feet away, with her face pressed to the floor and her legs kicking about. [color=Green]”Asshole! Fucking asshole!” She smacked the floor with her fist, over and over. ”Jesus! Grah!”

There was no real doubts about the effectiveness of the leg drop as he came crashing down on top of her. You took no real pride in getting that sort of sound out of her but he would be remiss to deny that part of him was glad it was there. When she rolled out from under him teeter either slightly on top of the chair nearly falling himself. Reaching out, grasping for the barricade, slowly begin to rise again.

He was unsteady, his body felt like fire… What was wrong? He carefully pressed his fingers to his face, cupping his head with on hand. He wasn't sweating? That was it. He had gone so far, so long with all three matches. He had never gotten a break, he was running on empty with no nothing to drink. No wonder he was feeling so woozy.

As he watched Makoto move off through a sea of empty chairs and littered concessions, he moved himself in the opposite direction much to the chagrin of the security staff as he tried to push past them into the crowd. “Anyone got bottled water?” a few people parted from the crowd almost immediately, running off to go buy one, while a few onlookers offered their own bottles his way. “Thanks, you’re all the real heroes here.” Reaching out he plucked what looked to be an unopened bottle from one of the hopeful fans, getting a few pictures snapped of him. He did his best to give a smile and a thumbs up. Not exactly the best photo opportunity for him.

Blue Thunder Mask cracked the bottle open, up turning it as he raised his head high to chug. It didn't matter it was room temperature or that the cheap bottle sold in the Tension arena had a slightly plastic aftertaste. In this moment, it was the most refreshing drink he’d ever had. Once he was done, he tossed the bottle back to the fan who gave it to him. “Make sure to recycle that.” A few crowded fans actually tried to snatch the bottle from the original owner when it was thrown back, getting an arched brow from him. People were… something else. He slipped back past security, looking to find what Makoto had gotten up to while he had refilled.

Blue Thunder Mask wasn’t following up just yet. Makoto wasn’t sure how to feel on that.

On one hand, she really and truly did need a moment to catch her breath after that leg drop. She couldn’t be sure, but it felt as if he’d managed to break a rib or two with that move. She could feel something shifting around with every breath, something that was clearly not where it was supposed to be in her anatomy, and it seemed to get worse every time she coughed or groaned or made any noise at all with her lungs. A doctor’s visit would be in order when this was done, which pissed her off even more, since she fucking hated going to the doctor over stuff like this.

But, on the other hand, what she saw as she started to rise wasn’t making her all that happy, either. Blue Thunder Mask was off to the side, mugging with her fans, acting as if he had all the time in the world and she wasn’t a threat worth worrying about.

Big mistake. Makoto could get pissed off by a great many things, but if there was one thing that really ticked her off, more than any other, it was being ignored.

No. No, that just would not do.

She rose and picked up the chair she’d been using for support, hefting it up as best she could with her wobbling legs. When Blue Thunder Mask turned her way, she had a little surprise ready for him, as she hurled the unfolded chair his way, going straight for his head.

Blue Thunder Mask had run into server issues with fans throughout the years. Stalkers were chief among them. Having a fan show up at wherever he was currently living. Sometimes they were obvious about it, asking for an autograph, other times they were… questionable.

One of the most unique cases was a woman who showed up at his door “lost” in the middle of a rainstorm in a bikini, who needed a ride home. He still recalls the piercing stare from that girl as he reluctantly drove to her house, nearly an hour away.

Then there was the the creepy mail. Love letters, glitter bombs, perishable food items which arrived far too late without being properly packed in cold storage. So gross... And sticky

There was plenty of good as well. The positive fanmail where he got stories of things his work inspired or general good news from long time penpals following his career. He enjoyed conventions, shaking hands and autographs, handing out free merch… one of the unsung benefits was having so many people warn you when your opponent was coming at you, throwing a chair at the back of your head.

“Look out!”
“Behind you!”
“She’s got a chair!”
“Duck!”
“Valkyries suck!”

Whirling around, he stepped away from the crowd, looking to shield the audience from whatever was coming his way. As it turned out, it was a chair, being hurled at him. Blue Thunder Mask jerked back, narrowly catching the chair just before it hit him. Ducking slightly, he peered through the legs of the chair giving Makoto a raised brow.

He hefted the weight of the chair between his hands, taking one hobbled step them a hopping stride forward. She slammed the chair to the hard ground, using all four legs of the steel folding chair as a vault off point. He kicked off the ground, swinging himself over the back off the chair to shoot out his legs to attempt to drop kick Makoto back into the vacated chairs. Regardless if he hit or not, his own landing would not be kind.

Stupid fucking fanboys!

All Makoto had wanted to do was throw the dumb chair at Blue Thunder Mask’s head. She figured it would either clock him in the back, or he’d turn in time to see and just take it anyway, not wanting the thing to hit one of his precious fans. There was little chance he’d have time for anything else. Safe assumption.

But no. No, the audience had to get involved and warn him of what was coming his way. Mother. Fuckers.

She hissed under her breath and tried to right herself, figuring she would at least have a moment before he brought the fight back to her. He wasn’t going to use the chair, he was far too much of a boy scout for that, so that wasn’t a big worry in her mind.

She didn’t know, couldn’t have known, what was coming her way next, however. That was part of the reason she had such trouble avoiding it - she didn’t realize what he was about to do until he was already in the process of doing it, barreling towards her at full steam, planting that chair on the ground, vaulting off it, and-

”Guh!” Blue Thunder Mask’s dropkick sent careering off her feet, knocking out a row of chairs in the process. She wound up near one of the emergency building exits, and that was what she went for. Makoto scrambled up to her feet, opening it and making her way to the outside, setting off the fire alarm in the process.

He had never competed in track and field back in his student days, though he likely would have done well for himself in just about anything but his pole vault. Rather than going up and over, he drove himself through, drilling Makoto in the chest with a picture perfect t drop kick. The trouble came after, as gravity dragged him to the uncushioned cement and his weight came crashing down. No amount of practice falling really subverted the natural laws of physics leaving him in a world of pain on the ground.

His palms crawled along the ground as he slowly propped himself to sit upright, not wasting much time down a deposit out on the ground. He couldn't afford to linger, not if she came at him again. To his surprise, not only did she not charge back in, but fled. To the surprise and likely annoyance of the Tension staff, it was out the fire exit. As soon as the alarm rang out, it cause a mass uproar with not everyone in the audience able to see what was going on.

Blue Thunder Mask rallied to his feet, using a nearby chair to pull himself up. The hard floor hadn't helped his already battered leg. He moved to chase after Makoto, weaving through scattered chairs as he limped after as fast as he could manage without causing too much strain.

“You wanted me didn't you?!" He shoved a pile of toppled chairs out of his way "Where you running off to!?” the closer he got to the door, the more deafening the loud ringing became. If she was laying in wait for him, there was no way he could hear her coming, so he took at least one precaution. Blue Thunder Mask shouldered the slowly closing door hard, sending it flying open in case his adversary had the bright idea of trying to slip behind it to hide in ambush. He stumbled out in the cool night air, trying to catch his balance as he looked side to side for her

The referee came out with Blue Thunder Mask, followed shortly by a camera crew that was desperately trying to keep up with the traveling match. None of them spied Makoto, however, even though she’d only been out of their sight for a few seconds - one would’ve thought there wouldn’t be too many places for her to hide.

But that was one of the great things about so small - Makoto could fit in places and hide behind things that most people simply could not manage. The second she’d opened the door, she’d scrambled under a nearby van and made her way to the other side, getting clear out of sight and leaving her opponent with a wide area to look for. Some many places to hide. So many ways to attack…

Makoto decided to come at him from above. Quiet as she could managed, she crawled up on to of the van, stood up, and looked over as Blue Thunder Mask tried to find her. Almost. Not yet. Wait for it.

Now.

She ran across the top of the fan, stomping hard as she came dashing. She knew it would make a lot of noise, but there was no way around that with the acoustics in this place. It all came down the element of surprise, mixed with a bit of luck for good flavor.

Passing beneath the blaring emergency exit siren as he stormed outside had left his ears ringing, relying solely on sight to guide his way. The parking lot was well lit for the most part, casting multiple faded shadows in several directions from the converging light sources. While the official had scrambled out after him, followed by a camera crew, security had stepped in to block the surge of fans wanting to spill outside in what would no doubt be a giant lawsuit waiting to happen in the panicked moments.

What had been a scramble to chase turned into a baffling game of hide and seek. He had barreled through the door to find… no one. Makato may as well have been the apprentice of David Copperfield. His brow knit in confusion as he walked out into the paved lot, leaning from side to side, looking back over his shoulder, where had she gotten off to? It wasn't as if she had much of a lead of him.

The racket from the nearby van caught his ears, though placing what they meant wasn't in the cards for him. He turned to eye the van, only looking up when other shadows had loomed to block out the lightpost's glow. It was far too late to comprehend let alone protect himself as her boots came down hard on him, driving his back to slap his bare back hard against the rough pavement. While he had done well to internalize his pain throughout the match, his scream of pain couldn't be contacted as the ground rubbed his skin to a raw red.