Tension Elimination Chamber Match

So much time had been put into her hair going into this match, hard work from her friend being wasted as Dasher curled his thick fingers through it making handholds where he pleased. Lean was peeled off the chamber wall, stumbling like a drunkard being ousted after closing time, practically dragged away by the larger man.

Her hands weakly sought out his wrists, trying to hold on and hoist herself up to release some of the tension caused by her bumbling footsteps of legs that refused to keep up as she was whirled about into a new position.

She bobbed against the ropes as her weight leaned against them, taking a moment to shake her head yet again as things we're finally starting to come back into focus. She seemed vaguely aware her hands were being guided or why until the two wrestlers were squaring down. Dasher's meaty jab snapped her head backwards, bending the ropes with the whiplash before standing her upright again into a hard left that sent her spinning, rolling vertically up against the ropes until she managed to catch herself just barely on the top one, holding tight with both arms draped over top of it.
Leah's head lulled forward as she coughed, wincing as she looked up at Dasher going through his act. She looked worn, but far from surrender. Her arms shook the ropes as she struggled to right herself in defiance towards the beating she was receiving. This was her chance… he was giving her a free punch right to his kisser.

She pushed off the ropes, stumbling to the side before stopping in a jerky motion, legs locked in an inward bend at the knees. She huffed, staring at his presented chin, biting her lip. She swallowed hard, balling her fingers into a tight fist as she drew her arm back, shaking as she readied her next punch hoping it would be enough...

”Get up, Felina.”

Felina had been watching Dasher and Leah got at it for what couldn’t have been longer than a minute, but felt like a solid hour. Harrowing? That was too gentle of a word to describe the scene. Felina hadn’t known the blonde too long, that was true, but she’d grown fairly accustomed to her in the short time they’d been friends, enough to get a good understanding of what sort of person she was.

”Up. Up, come on.”

It wasn’t a hard thing to do, really - Leah was open, honest, caring, gentle. She didn’t hide things about herself. It was like her brother hogged all the mean spirit in the womb, and left absolutely none for his sister, resulting in the nicest person to ever walk the Tension halls.

”Get the fuck up!”

So when that sweet, loveable, innocent, Living-Smilie-Face of a person took on the ogre that was Dasher Inoba, a man that had been ragdolling her around the ring since he stepped his big, bulky butt out of the pod, she was understandably distressed. It was more than enough motivation to force her way back up on wobbly feet, as Dasher started to batter Leah about the ropes, turning her into his personal chew toy. That crap was going to stop.
Dasher wanted a punch? He was going to get a punch.

She took a deep breath and exchanged a glance with Leah, nodding at her friend, passing some unspoken words. With her target in sight, she took a running leap towards Dasher, jumped up and jerked forward as she threw her blow, attempting to hit him in the face with the best Superman Punch she could muster.

Normally...Dasher charges an exorbitant amount of money for students to enlist in his specialized boxing classes. From hooks to jabs to uppercuts, the dashing chauvinist is willing to train his pupils in the pugilistic profession should they be tough enough to endure suffering a few errant haymakers in the training process. So in that regard...Leah should consider herself immensely grateful to be granted a one on one boxing session with The Dash free of charge. Dasher, for one, was taking immense pleasure in pummeling the daylights out of the cherubic blonde now being batted left and right in a sorrowful state. Clearly incapable of defending herself and on the verge of crumbling under her own weak-kneed weight as Dasher was now just heartlessly playing with her. He was now presenting his prodigious chin to her and expecting nothing more than a harmless love tap.

*THWACK*

The yonder rafters overhearing what was a thunderous wallop to the bowl-cutted brute's smirking mug that produced one of the biggest pops of the night. Both in terms of the ecstatic audience cheering wildly for Felina's last-minute intervention, and the actual sound of Dasher being slugged with enough vengeful force to send the muscled grappler into a spinning and a dizzied tailspin that had him careening over the top ropes and back into the actual ring. Dasher briefly going cross-eyed as he comically backward stumbled due to his spiraling double vision be slumping to the floor spine first and spread-eagled...the only coherent thought rattling around his noggin was how he was certainly not expecting Leah to pack that much of a wallop...

Leah was a gentle soul. While she had found herself in a career that often times entailed violence, she never really had malice in her heart. She loved wrestling. Watching it, acting it out, then actually living out a dream of becoming a professional wrestler.

There had been some bumps along the way to here, chief among them had been Levi. The only other person she had faced who made her question the lengths she might go to beat someone in the ring. However great a threat he had claimed to be though, Dasher was seven times the man Levi had been… mostly because she was fairly sure Dasher could eat seven people roughly the size of Levi.

Staring at his grinning mug, tapping his chin at her mockingly… she wanted to hit him so hard, to wipe that look off his face and make him think twice about being such a big… butthead. Her body trembled at the slightest movement to retaliate though, having had no time to recover from several consecutive blows to her cranium.

She and to stand, had to fight. She couldn't let this opportunity pass her by. This match was her rise to the top, at the end was a title match with Tension's champion. There was to much on the line to fall short now. Slowly her arm pulled back, eyes narrowing… her tongue poking out of the corner of her lips as she focused.

She threw a punch will all her might, eyes clamped shut as she left the ropes. She felt… nothing? Stumbling forward her eyes opened to see a whirling Dasher topple past her into the ring, leaning her hunched forward with buckled knees, barely standing. She blinked in confusion, eyes slowly looking down to her fist. “Whoa…”

Rather than turning right away, she took a few careful steps towards a nearby open pod, resting a palm to the structure for support while she about faced. She caught sight of Felina, head cocked to the side as a big dumb grin overtook her face. “Hey! Sorry I came in later than expected… you've been doing real good though.”

God, punching Dasher in the face felt good. Good. Sinfully good.

Oh, it wasn’t without some prices to pay. Though she knew how to use a Superman Punch in theory, she’d never done the move in an actual match, either in kickboxing or in the squared circle. There just weren’t too many opportunities when an opponent left themselves open for it. The only was the move could be more telegraphed would be if Felina sent an email for it advance. So she didn’t get all of her weight into it, and she wound up hurting her wrist a bit, too. Nothing serious, but it would probably feel worse once all the endorphins drained off.

But with Dasher leaving himself open and practically begging for it? So sweet. So worth it. She’d have to talk to somebody after this was over and get that clip up on her entrance.

She took a wobbly step back, gaining her balance as Leah spoke. She was still the fresher one between them, and Ryo had to be getting some steam back now...so...maybe…

”Pintimenow!” She waved her over and dove for Dasher’s fallen body, going to grab one leg and lift it up, pressing down on him. If Leah took the hint and did so with the other leg, they might be able to get a pin on him. Maybe…

It seemed Felina wasn't much better off than her right now, which was understandable. Her friend had been in since the start of all this… which was far more impressive than the crowd was really giving her credit for. Didn't they understand how cool the brunette was? Leah sure did. Slipping away from the pod she had leaned against her unstable steps took her back towards the ring with intention on making a bit more small talk with her buddy.

Her weight leaned against the ropes as Felina shouted something at her. Brain foggy trying to make sense of what it was… had she just Spanished at her or something? What was a pintime? The befuddlement showed on her face as she stared blankly onward with the smile of someone pretending to understand out of embarrassment or obligation.

The gears churned in her mind, crushing built up cobwebs to dust as she witnessed Felina dive onto Dasher and pull up one of his meaty thighs. The blond had a sudden epiphany, one likely known to anyone else in the arena, that her friend wanted them to both pin the hulking hazardous haircut.

Hastily she ducked under the ropes, slipping into the ring. She was delayed as he foot caught the bottommost cable nearly sending he face first to the mat. Her palms touched first, saving her from the fall as she scrambled over to the scene on all fours before sloppily dogpiling onto Dasher with all the grace of a walrus. Her spindly arms reached out to capture the man's other leg, visibly struggling to heft it up in the proper position to make kicking out difficult.

Parsing together this unfortunate series of events into anything resembling logic was already giving the bowl-cutted behemoth another throbbing migraine to compound the one he was already currently coping with. Dasher was expecting no more than an ineffectual, harmless, and practically feathery poke at his prodigious jaw that he would brush off with a bellowing guffaw...instead his ears were ringing from what felt like a block of cement cracking the burly chauvinist across his smug mug with swirling bowlcuts and chibi variations of Leah dancing merrily around the concussed cranium of the stupified brute. Just where Leah had been hiding that monumental strength was a mystery Dasher may never solve, but the most vital takeaway from this was Dasher making it a priority to avoid any more errant haymakers from that deceitfully powerful blonde.

The fallen giant incoherently grumbling and ineffectually bobbing his head up and down off the canvas after having been seemingly kayoed by the cherubic Shaw sister...landing himself smackdab in the middle of the ring in the most picturesque of pinning predicaments. Thousands cheering in unison for "Leah's" slaying of the beast with one mighty right hook, and for the most opportune of moments to eject the burly bulldozer from the match entirely. Dasher's muscled legs being hooked over himself by both lady contestants angling him as far back as they could...a lifeless, unmoving carcass that was seemingly all trussed and ready to be eliminated by two female competitor's in what would be an intensely moment of cathartic retribution for all the women of Tension...

"ONE!...TWO!!...THR-"

...were it not shattered...dashed, if you will...by the split second upheaval of one shoulder twisting to the side to stop the pin count.

Felina didn’t want this to work. Felina needed this to work.

Dasher was a problem, that much was clear, and she didn’t much like their chances, even with Leah in the equation. He’d been stomping him, running through them, and she didn’t much care who won at this point - she couldn’t think that far ahead. Just win this, then the match can go.

That was not happening. Damn it.

Somehow - somehow - Dasher managed to kick out of that, sending Felina rolling to the side, nearly flopping under the ropes. ”Oh, come on!” She grumbled, smacked her fist on the floor, and reached over to grab Dasher by his stupid haircut. Gripping tight, she yanked his head and started to lift him up...or attempt to. Probably wouldn’t be easy.

She had to roll her back up against Dasher's wide frame, both arms looked around one meaty thigh just to hold it up. The jury was still out on if Leah fully understood was was going on given the way her head sleepily bobbed as if still in a daze. It was understandable. She had never really been hit that hard before, not by someone throwing strikes. Even spare with Edgar, he tended to spare her pretty features from the devastation of his fists… though that might have just been brotherly instinct to hide his handiwork from Mom and Dad from back when they were kids and would roughhouse all the time.

Oh man… returning home after this would be really awkward if she managed to pin her brother's hero.

The second Dasher kicked out her death grip on his leg had her snapped to the side, rolling down the length of his leg like a beyblade someone just yanked the rip cord out of. The blond came to a dizzied halt just at his boots trying to get to her hands and knees. The ring was spinning… she gave he had a small shake, rattling the small ornamentation her friend had woven into side braid.

When she looked up she could see Felina already hard at work trying to continue the assault on the musclebound monster. On wobbly legs she started to rise back up, delayed in joining her friend at the moment.

The faint sensation of being tucked up into a pin was all it took for Dasher's battle-hardened wrestling instinct to override all other senses and shatter the fairy-tale ending this match was mere milliseconds away from obtaining. Some in attendance beginning to become believers of Dasher's incessant spiel about him being unstoppable...a booming boast now actually having some merit after Dasher has now thwarted two pin attempts now by two people covering him. Both involving Felina, and both leaving her and the rest of the world heartbroken over what appears to be an insurmountable task given how much mounting damage has been heaped upon the dashing chauvinist.

Not to say Dasher was a spring chicken right now. The burly brute opting to remain flat on his broad back in a whirling daze before the sudden upheaval...breathing exhaustedly with his muscled arms splayed out and clearly intent on remaining there for as long as he could manage. Which wasn't for long as his trademark bowl-cut began being scuffed up by the clenching hands of the impassioned Latina and the cherubic blonde tasked with hauling his slackened muscled mass back to his unstable feet. Dasher groggily complying with lumbering movements and foggy groans until eventually becoming vertical once more and slouched over...

...before he'd shoot both his hands up to knock their arms off of his treasured hair-do. Dasher bellowing ferociously before slamming both of his open hands upon the buxom breasts of the lady grapplers...both of whom now taking their second open handed slap from the brute, when one was enough to have any man crying.