Ed Sealgaire vs Dash Turner: Bash At The Beach

The bikini clad ref girl dropped the limp arm a third time, the crowd watching with baited breath.

It fell...

...and stopped halfway to the mat.

Ed opened his emerald green eyes, letting out a low groan, his arm shaking lightly as he kept it in the air. Somehow, through sheer force of will, or luck, or the spirit of the Sealgair clan and his warrior ancestors running through his veins, or just plain stubborness, he woke up, preventing his arm from falling, the ref girl signaling that the match was still on!

The crowd, for the most part, applauded the determination of the younger fighter, (though a fair amount of women booed him for it) as he began kicking again.

"Not...done...yet..."

He struggled to say, squirming against Dash's body again. His brain, working on whatever reserves he had left, quickly rushed through the variables of the situation. Couldn't crawl, couldn't roll, couldn't reach...and then he got his legs under him, feet touching the mat, and inspiration struck.

Grabbing at the back of Dash's upper thighs at his sides, Ed leaned his body foward as far as he could go, then rocked his body back, while pushing his feet against the mat and pulling at Dash's legs, trying to shift their weight and momentum enough to force Dash' back on the mat.

It wouldn't help him escape the sleeper/scissor hold, and, in fact, it would make it worse, the position making it harder to breath and guaranteeing he'd be unconscious in maybe ten seconds, but if it worked, then Dash would hear the ref girl, still on her knees, slap at the mat and count out-

"ONE!"

- as Ed turned the submission hold against him into a pin attempt with his shoulders on the mat!

It was hard to not be disappointed. Dash had been on the shelf collecting dust for months now. While getting a quick win so he could hit the surf was convenient, it wasn't ideal. The blond beach bum had been wanting more of a fight to shake off his ring rust, but it seemed as though he just had Edward's number. That was a shame, but he wasn't about to let up just for the sake of trying to string along a match. Doing something like that wasn't exactly sportsmanlike… maybe he should have started out slower instead. Something to consider.

His arms never loosened, remaining clamped on with no sign of release. Each time a hand was raised and fell the crowd swelled. He watched from the corner of his eyes, resigned to this being how he won. No flash, no real fanfare on his part, just choking this guy out… the. The hand stopped. Dash quirked a brow, finding it difficult not to smirk a bit. Seemed as though Ed still had some gas in the tank. Awesome!

He felt Edward's hands clamp down on his thighs, curious on how exactly he thought that would help him. There was no way he would be able to force the scissor hold apart, especially not after he had kept him locked in for so long, so what was he doing? He craned his neck to try to look over the man in his grasp, to see what else he was doing, then he was rocked backwards as Ed pushed off the mat, rolling Dash up onto his shoulders.

“One!”

Whoa! Slick. He shifted his own weight, trying to flop the two of them over to the side, doing so would have put a quick end to this and rendered Edward helpless again. The bridge however, proved to be pretty strong with the other man's leverage. If Dash wanted to escape himself, he had to release the hold…

“Two!”

“Well, shit.” He grumbled softly, limbs quickly uncoiling from around Edward to release the man from his grasp. With a hard shove, he separated them further, bucking himself out of the pin attempt as he rolled off to the side. It wasn't as if this was over. If anything Edward was still left in a pretty bad way after being locked in for so long. Dash still had this, in theory.

Almost...cmon...pleaseworkpleasepleasepleas-AIR!



After barely avoiding the dark and unpleasant dreams of unconsciousness, and pinning all his hopes to a last ditch counter that could have very easily blown up in his face, Edward was rewarded by being released from his prison and allowed access to sweet and glorious air.



The second he was pushed off Dash's body, the ponytailed and speedo-clad teen crawled, dragged, and flopped his limp body to the ropes, barely seeing them in his blurry vision, and swung his arm over them, holding on tightly while taking in deep gulps of precious air, chest rising and falling with each lungful. While it wasn't much of a follow up to his pin attempt, it was the best he could do for the moment. Dash was clearly unrelenting, and Ed had no doubt another attack was immiment, perhaps even another sleeper hold, which was certain to put him out, as his surprise pin though would only be a surprise once.



So he kept the rope in his reach as he got his breath back, knowing it would take at least a bit for Dash to pry him away, and buy him more time for his strength to return.



Outside the ring, while several bikini clad babes let out boos, clearly having a bias for the taller hunky blonde, most gave Ed a hand with a small applause, approving of his ability to hold out and actually counter and escape what looked like a sure finish!

In one deft spin, Dash had gone from one knee to standing completely upright again. He was light on his feet, still fresh from the long hold, which didn't seem to be the care for poor Ed clinging to the ropes. He gave the guy a small break, taking a moment to fix his sleeveless top and adjust his swim trunks. Even the simple act of tending to his clothes got a delightful rise from the crowd. He wasn't use to so many cat calls and cheers, it was something he could get use to. The blond beach but took a moment to soak it in, giving the crowd a wink and a bright smile causing a few in the front rows to swoon, assuming it was directed at them specifically.

This was his sort of wrestling league. Fun in the sun, adoring crowds, and no politics attached to his wrestling. He shook out his arms, eyeing his opponent from across the way. He had given Ed enough of a breather, it was time to get back into it. The blond backpedaled, slow at first but by the time he threw his weight into the far ropes he had built up enough momentum to make the turnbuckles squeak as the cables stretched to their limits.

He came rocketing off, arms pumping furiously as he ran full speed towards the Scottish wrestler, beaming brightly as if he was having the time of his life. His long strides closed the space between them easily, only changing up his footing at the last moment when he leap off the mat to throw out both of his legs, trying to dropkick the other man center mass and possible send him through the ropes to the outside.

Several large gasps of precious, life giving, much needed air, for several seconds, before finally calming himelf, his pounding heartbeat starting to settle as he took more normal breaths, noting that he hadn't been accosted yet., for some reason. Seemed Dash decided to give him a literal breather...huh. Damn decent of him. Another big move or reapplied choke hold might have finished him off.

He got up to one knee, turning to face the taller blonde, about to thank him for the break...when Dash instead came charging at him, long legs closing the distance between them within a few steps. The man was fast...but so was Ed.

On his guard this time, and still holding the rope, Ed dropped to his chest and rolled back, under the bottom ropes and off of the ring apron entirely, switching arms to grab the bottom rope, and hooking one leg over the rope as well to stop him as he rolled over the edge of the apron, literally hanging on the side of the ring, above the sand, just out of range for Dash's attemped dropkick, leaving nothing but the mat for Dash to hit.

As soon as the bigger man landed, the teen was back on the apron in a blonde flash, grabbing the top rope and jumping high, using the spring of the top rope to throw his body over the top, trying to land on top of Dash's chest while he was still down, with a body splash!

Taking flight, Dash threw his body forward, catching a glimpse of Ed slipping under the ropes defensively. It was too late to stop himself, whiffing the drop kick to land with a dull this on the mat. It didn't really amount to anything, in truth the impact on him was the same if he hit or missed after all. He shouldn't have given the other guy all that time to recover though, that had likely been his downfall.

He rocked forward, half sitting himself up before leaning his weight back. His intention had been to tumble backwards to get back to his feet, but there was a small problem with that. Precisely 135 pounds of problem in the form of the Scottish wrestler soaring down across his chest to stop his rise in a sudden crash.

“Guh!” The blond's eyes shot wide the moment the splash hit, caught by complete surprise as he had been going through the motions in the moment. It hadn't winded him, luckily, but his shoulders had been out down. The referee dropped down beside them both, slapping the mat.

“One!”

“Nope!” Dash clapped a hand on Edward's shoulder, his other arch hooking down between the other man's legs to cradle him while below. With a twist, he strained to heave the other man off of him to the side, not content to just lift a shoulder. “Don't think so buddy.”

Dang, for a brief moment there, Ed thought his sudden splash might just be enough of a surprise to get a quick pin on the charming Dash, but the beach bunny put a stop to that quickly enough, literally hurling the teen off of him.

Still, it wasn't a complete loss, as he was able to roll back to his bare feet, getting his smaller body upright while Dash was still getting up to his feet.

Sliding around to face the beach bunnys back, Ed used his speed, moving in and trying to do exactly what Dash wanted to do to him, slam both bare feet into his body with a running dropkick, trying to drive him through the nearby ropes and out of the ring!

Dash let out a small whistle after tossing Edward to the side. That would have been embarrassing if he had eaten a loss there after all of that showboating earlier. Maybe it was time he started buckling down another not giving the other guy so much room to recover… probably for the best. Regardless the crowd seemed to be enjoying it. They were loud, getting into the various ups and downs so far, which was saying something given how easy it was to lose people's attention in these open air venues.

The beach bum popped up, sitting himself upright as he adjusted his sleeveless hooded top. Reaching down he had just begun to rise when he caught the sight of his charging opponent. Stopped short, he took a knee with the intention of bracing for the impact.

Edward crashed into his waiting defense, but high, too high to keep himself planted. He was thrown back, tumbling over himself and right through the ropes! He fingers grasped out through the open air, catching hold of something and clamping down. His body in motion came to an abrupt halt, held suspended over the sandy ringside below as he clung to the middle rope by one hand.

His arm burned from the whiplash but he knew it would fade. Close. He had almost taken quiet the spill there. He shook out his body, scooting his rear up fully onto the apron to situate himself. Once he had grounded himself he tugged at the ropes, dragging himself to his feet on the apron, brushing off his chest of the stray bits of sand that had been transferred from the kick.

Watching Dash dangle over the sand, Edward had to chuckle a little. Both he and Dash had gone for a dropkick, trying to knock the other through the ropes and onto the warm sand...and both had grabbed the ropes to save themselves at the last moment. Great minds thinking alike perhaps. Still, this match had been pretty one sided so far. Ed had been nearly choked out, after all, and hadn't really landed any kind of serious hits.

It was time to change that.

It was at that point, he heard the crowd. They were certainly into the match, and the speedo clad teen got a few wolf whistles directed his way...but he could tell, at various points in the match so far, many of their cheers and whistles seemed more directed at Dash then him...especially the front row of nearly all swimsuit clad women. He could get it, really. Both were new, and the crowd wasn't familiar with them or their moves, so a lot of early impressions were based off looks and how they fought. While Ed's slim and toned body certainly wasn't unattractive, he could see how they would prefer the taller, somewhat more muscular, and more naturally handsome Dash.

Well, perhaps it was time to change their opinions of him too.

With Dash getting up and literally dusting himself off, the scottish fighter quickly moved. Noting that Dash was sideways, his side facing the ring, and him actually facing the stretch of ring apron, Edward moved in a curve, so that he'd be running towards Dash almost head on, with the ropes separating them. To the casual observer, it might have looked like the shorter blonde was going to try and clothesline Dash off the apron...but the boy had something else in mind.

Once he got closer, Edward grabbed the top rope and leaped up, high into the air, momentum carrying him forward as he pulled the rope, adjusting his trajectory so that his body sailed over the top rope, his legs catching onto Dash's shoulders, ankles locking behind his neck. Throwing his upper body back, Ed tried to use his momentum and his legs to throw Dash off of the ring apron with a Hurricanrana, throwing both fighters into the soft and warm sand!

It wasn't often Dash had opponents on the ropes. Mostly because he often times found himself being fed to far better wrestlers than himself back in his old federation. Here in AFW not only was he more so in his element with how laxed things seemed to be, but was also placed against people more on his level it seemed. Competitive, but not too stressful. That's how he liked it.

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Edward, but didn't intend to let the other man know. He waited, obscuring a balled up fist at his side, getting ready to clock the Scottish man square across the jaw. Just as the other blond closed in, Dash leaned himself out away from the ropes in anticipation for his opponent to try and land a strike. His arm reared back, ready to counter it when he saw his for sail over the ropes.

“Shit.”

He winced as legs clamped around his head, feeling the weighted pull of Ed's momentum ripping him from the apron into a state of weightless flying. The sensation didn't last for long as the ground caught up to him. Soft sand was a relative thing, as his weight slammed into the powdery earth kicking up a plume of dust into the crowd. He tumbled from his back to his chest, faceplanting into the beach.

He remained there, motionless for a few moment leaving the crowd on hand to murmur soft concerns to one another. Fingers dug into the loose sand, clawing it closer as be pushed his body up. Somewhere along the way his hood had managed to flop itself back over his head leaving his features obscured beneath. Dash spit onto the ground, removing a bit of sand that has managed to get into his mouth when he landed. While he loved the beach, he drew the line at having it inside his mouth and trunks. No thanks.

Reaching under his hood he ran his palm up and down over his face, quickly working to clean away most of the sand from his features. Impossible to get it all at the moment, just enough to look decent again he supposed. With a shove he sat himself up onto his knees, throwing his head back to flip the hood back of his head. Blond hair unless it with notable grains of sand throughout… somehow managing to look even better than he started.