Tension Elimination Chamber Match

It was an odd sensation to be so light on her feet. Leah almost always wore her boots in the ring, regardless of what costume she was donning they had more or less always had them. Tonight she wore simple shoes to fit her attire, they did little to custom her footfalls from hard metal grating beneath her.

She had left the shatter confines of her chamber behind, leaving Ryo to recover while she stood toe to toe with the man who had been running through the match like a wrecking ball. This felt like a huge moment, larger than even being in the match at all. It was up to her to bring down this monster of a man. She had prepared for this moment, staring into a mirror before the big day, growling at her reflection and prayers going looking especially fierce…

Faced with him now? She was scared. He seemed bigger, stronger, crueller than she had ever thought. Watching him rag doll the competition around the ring, better fighters like Felina and more accomplished veterans like Ryo, made her heart race knowing she was here on her own for now. No amount of mean mugging this guy was going to win her the match though… and if she wanted that title shot she had to go through him.

Leah drew in a deep breath through her nose, standing straighter than before while Dasher's looking bulk cast a shadow down over her. With a sudden snap of movement she threw out a arm in his direction, still to far from him to make contact. She simply pointed, holding that did get out at the mountain of a man before her. Eyes narrowed, jaw clenched she drew her other hand up, a thumb gesture in a long cutthroat moved just below her chin. The corner of her lips curled into a smirk as her pointed finger turned upside down, curling to beckon Dasher to come at her.

“That headshot cost me 1000 yen. You'd better buy me another otherwise you'll be signing it with your tears after I kick your pitooty.” Did she sound cool? Look confident? She hoped so. Internally she is as screaming at herself for not tucking tail and running. She made no sudden moves, trying to hold her ground until the moment was just right. One leg slipped back, parting the slit down the thigh of her dress as she took up a stance more befitting a martial arts match. It was all for show really to go with her costume, all flash with little substance… he didn't know that she wasn't some crazy kung fu artist though, right?

It took incredible courageous and immense strength of will to stare down a monstrous beast of a man who had just finished tearing a warpath through a wrestling ring and left two of Tension's more talented grapplers appearing as if they were just squashed by a bowl-cutted steam-roller. As to whether Leah possessed such lofty levels of courage, sheer willpower...or was perhaps stubbornly ignoring her fight or flight response meant entirely for self-preservation, remained to be seen. But what was clearly evident was that the cherubic blonde had heart, for which the audience rallied behind her for...they just hoped that heart, along with the rest of her, didn't get mowed over just like poor Felicia and Ryo.

Dasher bitterly growled with an upturned twitch to the side of his upper lip as if he a junkyard bulldog eyeing down trespassers who were one wrong move away from being pounced upon. He didn't know what was going on in the head of this doe-eyed creampuff waltzing right up to him, but he never expected these Tension women to be all that intelligent in the first place. How could they possibly be when they willingly put themselves in severe danger of bodily harm by stepping into the ring against the Mighty Inoba?...and not resign themselves to be dutiful housewives like he reasonably campaigned for in his television sports interviews on J-ESPN. The bowl-cutted behemoth nonetheless balked with an upturned eyebrow at Leah pointing her finger, gesturing, and demanding recompense for her mangled headshot. He turned his head to ask the referee in Japanese what a...pitooty...was. The ref just shrugged his shoulders before Dasher gave up trying to understand Leah and turned back toward her.

"...Hmph...Headshot, eh?...Oh...I'll be giving you a new head..shot, alright..." Dasher ominously stated with a darkened inflection that may have gone over the Shaw sister's blonde head, the dashing muscleman narrowing his beady eyes downward at the scrappy faux martial artist adopting some incomprehensible fighting stance that Dasher couldn't recognize in the slightest. A reflexive twitch to his throbbing pectorals as he tensed his muscles and took a slight step backward to obtain more room and a better punting position. "OORIYAH!!!!!" Dasher bellowed to the high heavens with his massive arms outreaching to the sides before stampeding to the adorable fan favorite. Two-hundred and twenty five pounds of of rock-hard muscle rampaging straight towards Leah with every intention of shooting his leg forward and imprinting the bottom of his black boot right into the smirking face of hers.

The lone hero, humanity's last bastion standing between Dasher and world domination. She had to stand tall, string, and hold the line. Could she take him all on her own? She wasn't sure. The adrenaline was telling her yes but her mind was a storm of doubts and fears. Buying time was all she needed to do. Felina and Ryo had been working together. They understand the dangers this behemoth of a man posed and would likely stand by her once they recovered.

“Really?” She blinked as Dasher addressed her, the tone of his voice buzzing there proverbial tower. Her features softened slightly, seemingly believing the man was being genuine with her. “That's very ni-” her bright eyes widened as he reared back, readying himself to attack. She panics internally, not sure what to actually do when facing an opponent in this ridiculous stance used for showmanship and nothing else.

She had wanted to be Bruce Lee, smooth, fluid, lethal. In actuality she was more Jackie Chan, scrambling to drop to all fours to narrowly avoid a boot soaring into the space her head had once occupied. Like a mouse she scurried in the opening left by the raised leg, positioning herself behind the bullheaded bowlcut brawler.

Her brother had given her advice before. For a different opponent, sure, but the same logic applied. Taking out the foundations of a bigger opponent was often times the best solution as all that bulk continued to weight down on them throughout the match and worked to weaken them. She had ignored it then and it may have been one of the contributing factors to her loss in that match. Here was a chance to make it right.

Bracing her palms to the mat she shifted her weight to one knee and tucked the other leg in. With a hard thrust she kicked her foot out sending her heel back to dig into the hopefully softer crook of Dasher's knee, the only thing that helped to keep him upright. While not the most accomplished striker, her hope was place in trying to bring the man off balance.

Dasher was being entirely truthful when he mentioned recompensing Leah for her torn, tattered, and half-digested photograph...it was just going to be Dasher's own personalized interpretation of what a head-shot actually was. One where the autograph was most definitely not going to be his John Handcock etched with a slimline permanent marker...but with the treads of his black boot implanted into the doughy cheek of the cherubic Shaw sister, and leaving his own type of branding mark. Dasher already getting irritated from Leah using words he wasn't familiar with, but now she had the gall to challenge him, The Mighty Inoba, to a one on one scuffle. The size difference, weight difference, muscle difference, the bowl-cut difference...it was all laughable. But rather than laughing Dasher was content with bellowing as he attempted to boot the fan-favorite right in the kisser.

...But much like his "headshot" threat went over Leah's blonde head, so too did his stampeding kick as the agile little minx went scampering under his massive leg just in time to avoid being clocked in the jaw. Dasher balancing himself as best he can after whiffing completely as he stomped down onto the metallic floor with thunderous force after stumbled a step forward. The clanging echoes from his stomp and slight indentation in the floor indicating just how much power he had packed into that kick. His widened beady eyes suddenly flinching shut from Leah's heel plowing into the back of his knee. The dashing chauvinist buckling to his side as he propped himself against the ring ropes beside him, then turning back around to face Leah with a hobbled stance, and glaring fury. Disregarding the shooting pain his leg at his own risk, Dasher charged forward once more. Only now he was attempting a lariat clothesline, and his running speed was significantly gimped.

There was immediate give as Leah buried her foot in the soft inner joint of Dasher's knee. No matter his muscle, some places were just naturally designed chinks in one's armor. She felt know shame about not directly facing down with the bowlcut behemoth, that would have been folly. Play it safe, play it smart.

When she saw his balance shift, having to use the rope for support her facial features lit up. Her beaming smile was one of triumph, maybe not able to floor her massive adversary just yet but had the ropes not been there, maybe! A small victory and one she desperately needed to rekindle the confidence she had spouted off just moments prior.

Rolling back o to the balls of her feet she popped upright giving a dramatic whirl to let her skirts billow. Stamping her feet down firmly she stood tall face to face with Dasher who was already glaring daggers into her. The blond found herself at a small loss in the moment as the two just watched one another. She should have just outright attacked him but…

She stuck out her tongue at him instead. It seemed like a good idea in the moment, until he started lumbering towards her. Her pleased expression quickly changed to a look of worry and then regret as she quickly backpedaled along the exterior of the ring, managing to keep pace with his handicapped charge until her back clanked against the cage.

End of the line.

“Oh shoot…” She whispered, paling slightly as she leaned her weight back into the unyielding structure. He was almost on her know… she could swear his eyes were glowing red and foam was forming at the corners of her mouth… but she had a very active imagination. A large arm came wide, seeking to flatten her out in one large sweep. She surged forward, dipping low to narrowly pass under the lariat yet again, making use of their size difference to her advantage.

She planted her feet, pivoting hard at Dasher's side to come to a quick halt. Tightening her fists, she brought her whitened knuckles forward in a quick barriage of strikes aimed to pepper the larger wrestler’s side. Precise blows, perhaps, but what they had in quantity and accuracy they lacked on power which meant a whole lot when trying to strike past someone like Dasher's coat of muscular armor.

The cartoonish antics of the larger, brutish animal being outwitted by the smaller, nimbler, and annoyingly precocious animal continued onward. All to the audience's amusement as Leah splurt a defiant raspberry at the hobbled Dasher lumbering at her, still with enough speed to deliver one helluva haymaker should he somehow get his hands on the wascally Shaw sister. The bowl-cutted bully starting to get quite irritated from always having to chase down his more lightweight opponents...everyone one of them cowering and fleeing from him rather than standing up to face like him, like a man. An honorable tactic he may have even given them credit for~...before twisting them about into a contorted, wrestling pretzel before they were stretchered to the infirmary. But at the very least, they would be stretchered out with his respect. Not like this bubble-headed ninny whom Dasher was currently encroaching upon. The stiff boot to the back of his knee obviously impeded his walk speed as he flinched and grimaced with ever soldiering step forward...

...but luckily, speed would not be saving the slippery weasel this time. Not after she had accidentally cornered herself against the chainlink fence, a menacing grin on the Dash's prodigious mug as he stomped forward to only whiff once again with a lariat that would have knocked out Leah's filings, if the sisterly Shaw had any.

Instead the dashing chauvinist once again wobbled forward in a studder step from missing his target completely, grimacing from the stinging in his knee and from having not connected with the little runt. Though as he pivoted around to see where the cherubic fan favorite had scampered off to, he didn't spot her in the distance...and only noticed her when he felt something jabbing away at the side of his abdomen. Dasher scoping downward with a raised arm and cocked eyebrow to see Leah hammering away at his chiseled musculature, each one landing with a sweaty bounce. The cheering masses hollering ecstatically as the blonde bombshell battered away at him with a flurry of frenzied fists that she may have imagined being machine gun blows wailing away at Dasher...until she would finally finish, and see the cold truth glaring down at her. Dasher than clamping onto her head with both of his massive mitts, before rearing his head back and bellowing loudly as he attempted a brutish meeting of the minds in a concussive headbutt.

Leah's fists flew like bullets from a machine gun, rattattattattattatting up Dasher's side without any real recourse. It felt good, felt right to just pummel this monster of a man, envisioning herself in the role of the heroine topping the tower of goons in any martial arts movie.

His thick clammy skin that she couldn't help but keep imaging being the blubbery hide of a whale or something wasn't exactly thrilling to strike, especially as she felt the sweat transfer onto her knuckles in pitter-patter sprays with each impact… it was pretty gross.

At some point in the movie the villain fell over though… and Dasher wasn't. She had felt the change in his positioning as he twisted, not in pain seemingly but to peer down at her. The furocity of her punches slowly as the two met eyes. His bear squinting eyes veiled in shadow from.the angle glaring a hole through her confused angelic features as it dawned on her this was not working at all.

She paused, cracking a small nervous smile accompanies by a chuckle. “So… urm. You can fall now.” She gave one more punch for good measure, the meaty thwack of her fist echoing in a quiet arena that seemed to release the perils of her position before she had.

“W-wa-wait!” The goliath hunched forward, arms reaching out she started to back away, raising her hands in the universal gesture for “time out”. She didn't know if Dasher knew the meaning… or if it actually was universal, but rather than stopping the action he moved to stop her instead, bringing his massive bowl cut wearing done down into hers.

Edgar, her brother, often remarked that she had a thick skull. Sometimes it was meant as a compliment, other times as an insult. She didn't mind it either way really, it was just how he was. A prickly cactus of a man, but she loved her brother even if he was a jerk sometimes. If she could remember it through the haze she would let him know Dasher's was harder.

Being let go had nearly cost her all the balance she had left, ankles wobbling as she fought to stay upright. Her arms waved to the side and front, feeling at the air in the hopes of grabbing hold of some manner of equilibrium as she teetered on the verge of collapse. A few fumbled steps and a sway to the side she found support against the cold painted chains of the structure wall, petite figure slumping up against it while she shook her head to try and unjumble her thoughts.

Scores of cheering fans rallied behind the cherubic Shaw sister unleashing a torrent of Jojo-esque punches striking at breakneck speed in an action filled scene ripped straight from a schlock, low budget martial arts flick. The vengeful protagonist usually performing this climactic volley of fists on the muscle bound mob-boss to thwart his real estate scheme after snatching up all of the local property. Ending with the vile bruiser being walloped into unconsciousness as the paddy wagon took him away...it was just a terrible shame Dasher had never seen any of those movies, and was completely unaware as to what his role in the story was. Hence why the bowl-cutted antagonist menacingly stood his ground against the down-pouring of punches that were about as effectual as mosquito bites...maybe less so given that at least those leave irritating bite marks could lead into a nasty infection.

Instead, Dasher forced Leah into a ruthless meeting of the minds as he banged their foreheads together...forever answering the question as to who among them had the thickest skull. A distinction Dasher now wore with pride as he released the angelic Shaw to go drunkenly stumbling backwards. People almost swearing they could hear literal bells being rung from their collision, one that Dasher was surprised not to have fell the blonde immediately. "HMPH...Still standing, eh?...Impressive...perhaps you're tougher than half the sorry lot in here." Dasher mock complimented with a sneer and crack of his knuckles, feeling thoroughly satisfied with finally getting his grubby mitts on the agile and speedy little runt. The dashing brawler cracking one neck to the side as he stomped towards the cornered blonde, casting an ominous shadow that matched his foreboding and muscled presence.

"What do you say we put that to the test, huh? Show me what you ladies of Tension are made of, and let's see if you can stay on your feet like a man..." Dasher proclaimed with a fist to his rippled manly chest as he stood before the diminutive Shaw sister. His next endurance test being one of his absolutely most feared. Dasher than mashing his massive and sweaty left forearm against the cherubic blonde's soft face to have her puff out her chest, those in attendance already beginning to wince as Dasher raised his other hand. Shushing the crowd with his index finger against this lips before delivering a meteoric open-handed slap to the petite breasts of the blonde fan-favorite.

She was having trouble lifting her head to meet his gaze. Could hear him speaking though knowing the words that escaped his lips their meaning slipped away from her. One eye squinted as her head bobbed slowly, almost as she was trying to hold back impending sleep. Her body was kept up by the chamber wall that fully but as Dasher trudged towards her she was left almost defenseless.

She raised her free hand, fingers waving at the air, feeling for Dasher to attempt to ward him off sloppily. He moved right up to her, palm pressed against his chest, arm being compressed as she failed to stop his encroachment.

She was stood up straight his forearm pressed up against her pulling her upright against the chairs. She let out a low whine feeling the chamber dig into the back of her head, blond locks snagging on small imperfections on the wall. She clawed her fingers into his forearm, kicking a leg out as she was forced to arch her back. The fabric of her dress pulled taut against her breasts leaving a well defined surface in which the brute could target.

“I don't really like tests!” She protested, getting one of her shoes up against Dasher's knee, trying to push off that in tandem with tugging at his arm in hope of gaining a bit of wiggle room. "So I'll pass thank you!” She grunted and squealed softly as silent fell over the crowd. She heard the larger man shushing them but not why.

Thunder clapped as his palm stuck her chest and unyielding force driven by blood, sweat, muscle and a vitriolic hate for women within his ring. The blow was shattering, splitting cracks throughout her whole body as if she had been a pane of glass now networked with spider web like scarring all throughout. It was a hollowing experience, the pain so intense it left her utterly empty inside unable to make a sound beyond gasping for breath as if she had been drowning to this point.

She had managed to stay upright but that was more due to her place against the wall than her ability to withstand the blow. She found it hard to keep her eyes from squinting, tears welling up again as the sting lingered across her chest, likely to have left a large mark underneath the finely woven garment.

One entire arena, man and woman alike, became briefly unified in their wincing sympathy for the lovable blonde having her world shattered in a single booming slap. The audience now having severe reservations for having the petite cutie squaring off with a bowl-cutted bruiser who outweighed her by over a hundred pounds...with a large portion of that being pure, meat-headed muscle. Especially one who seemingly had zero issue towards being as unnecessary brutal to her as he did to anyone else who dared step into the ring with the renowned puroresu champion. Scant sympathy could be seen on his seething face after delivering a chop of such magnitude it brought a jiggle to even Leah's modest breasts...with what was assuredly a hand-sized welt thankfully masked under her martial arts attire.  

Dasher than taking a step back to admire his handiwork and the sorry state it left this audience's "hero"...towering before her with a smarmy smirk while shaking his hand striking hand left and right to help cool it off from the slight residual burning he felt. He would put his students through drills of enduring such open palmed strikes, and rewarding them for their manliness if they could withstand them. So it was no surprise when the ladies of Tension trembled and quaked before a man's might. "Don't like tests, huh? Strange considering how it looks like you're passing splendidly so far...in fact...I'd say it looks like you're tough enough to go one-on-one with the Mighty Inoba~..." Dasher sarcastically uttered, knowing full well that this wobbly-kneed milksop was on the verge of collapse from so much as a strong wind blowing her over.

His two massive mitts clamping onto her blonde locks to escort the battered Shaw sister away from the wall of the cage until they were standing beside the ring ropes once more. The brawling chauvinist than propping Leah up on her unsteady legs as best he could before bringing up both her hands and balling her fists...putting her into a faux boxing stance before adopting one of his own. A pelting jab to the right of her cheek...another stiff punch to the left side of her face...all while engaging in a bit of mocking theatrics as he bobbed and weaved left and right. Vitriolic boos echoing throughout for Dasher's toying with Leah and blatant disrespect shown towards her...until finally he abandoned his boxing stance to bend slightly forward and point straight at his gargantuan chin. His eyes closed and not a hint of worry on his sneering face.

"What's the matter, eh? Come on, I'll give you a free one~...Give me your best shot~..."