Laila Nazari vs. Sara Conner - Collision Course

It was a stupid, ridiculous trick that wouldn’t have worked in any combat sport but wrestling, and it saved Sara’s ass. Somehow, that just made her hate what she had to do all the more.

Whatever. Her little gambit worked out in the end, getting her to the ropes and forcing the break. Laila didn’t seem any happier about it than she did, but it was enough for the moment, forcing them to give up on the hold and end their mutual suffering. Sara slid away to the nearest corner and rose to her feet, using the pads as support, crawling up each and every inch until she was on two stable feet.

Semi-stable, anyway. Sara took a wobbly step forward, then another, before she was able to maintain a solid base. She wouldn’t be doing too much in the way of kicks for a minute, but then, neither would Laila. Hopefully.

Bringing up her fists, she moved towards her opponent as the woman rose up as well, looking to meet her head. Speed was still on her side here, and she would need it now more than ever, as she looked to take her opponent head on.

Jabs. She started light, throwing out one towards Laila’s face, then another at her chest. Rapid succession, testing the distance, seeing how good she was at dealing with them.

Laila was breathing a little harder now as she pulled herself up on the ropes. Her legs were stiff and sore from having just been twisted in a pretzel, and she winced as she was forced to put weight on them. Even so, she forced herself to work with the pain, pulling herself to her feet and leaning a little on the top rope, turning to face Sara...just as the American came at her with fists raised.

Instinctively, Laila took a step back, and winced as her hurting legs protested. Sara was attacking relentlessly now, punching and jabbing, forcing Laila to deflect with her arms. She managed to block one jab at her face, but was left open, one of Sara's fists slamming against the side of her chest. She gasped, and was left breathing harder, unable to backpedal effectively as Sara's onslaught came on and on...

Sara knew she shouldn’t be too gung going after Laila. After all, this woman had nearly broken her legs just a minute ago, and the only reason she hadn’t was because of a quirk of the move she’d chosen to use. If she’d gone with something safer...Sara didn’t want to say she would’ve tapped out, but her body might’ve given up for her.

But as she poured on the pressure and drove the taller woman back, there was no denying the rush of the moment. The control. As much as a whirlwind as this match was, it felt like she was finally getting a handle on things. The stiffness was leaving her legs, she was becoming surer with each jab.

Deciding to press her luck, she stepped in and forced the tall woman to grapple, switching out the strikes for a moment. Testing strength with the huntress was unwise, she knew that, but she didn’t plan to be in here for too long. All she wanted to do was twist around, pull Laila’s arm over her shoulder, and throw her flat on the floor with the traditional ‘judo throw’. A simple but effective way to get her opponent on the ground, fast.

Laila hated to admit it, but she was on the defensive. With her leg having been left sore by the earlier figure four, her ability to maneouver had been severely hampered...which wouldn't have been so bad were it not for the fact that Sara was now switching to fisticuffs, unleashing a flurry of punches and kicks with her. Laila had never been the best striker, so she was now struggling to keep up and keep Sara at arm's length.

And then, suddenly, Sara was locking up with her, the motion pressing Laila up against the ropes. Wait, this wasn't right, Sara had to know that Laila was the stronger of the two. What the hell was she--

Her answer came as her world suddenly went upside-down as she was flipped over Sara's shoulder. She could only give a strangled gasp of surprise before she slammed back-first into the mat. The motion caused her to sit up automatically in response, a silent gasp of pain on her lips as she clutched her hurting back.

Alright, she had to admit, the bitch had gotten her good with that one...

Not only had that little stunt paid off, but it worked a lot better than even she was hoping for. She’d just wanted to get Laila on the mat and get on top, maybe do some more grappling. It wasn’t the wisest action, but she liked her chances in this department if she was the one on top. It had potential. It could be the ticket.

But no, Laila hadn’t just landed flat. She sat up after the impact, which presented Sara with her back, and a variety of juicy targets to strike at, all with little risk of a counter. It was hard to pick where to strike at first blush, like a buffet where she could only savor one dish, and she had mere seconds to decide.

She only needed one.

Sara wouldn’t be able to land this move as well as she liked with her legs hurting this much, but she went for it, anyway. She took a hop back, then stepped forward and swung out with a powerful kick aimed at Laila’s upper arm, targeting the joints with her shin. A brutal, crippling kick that she was quite famous for - what she liked to call the Malfunction.

It was only as Laila jacknifed upwards that she realized she was making a mistake. Most of the time, her opponents didn't get lucky enough to nail her with a throw, or when they did, she usually managed to recover quickly enough to roll back up to her feet. Not this time, though: Sara had thrown Laila down hard, hard enough that she had felt the impact lance its way up her spine.

And now she was about to feel a hell of a lot worse.

She was already rolling, spinning onto her knees to get her back away from Sara's legs...though as it turned out, her back wasn't Sara's target. A second later, Sara's booted foot hammered into her upper arm. If the blow to her back had been a stabbing lance, then this was a bone-crunching mallet. Her eyes widened, and despite herself, she gave a muffled cry of pain as she blow knocked her sideways, sending her tumbling onto her back.

She clenched her teeth, feeling her eyes water as she clutched her hurting arm, raw agony burning through the limb and rendering her lower arm and fingers numb. Damn it...DAMN IT...

Bullseye. Sara couldn’t have hit it better if they’d been working off a script.

While she didn’t like to think of herself as sadistic, she had to admit, she always got a kick out of landing that move. The way the kick felt, the feedback it gave, was impossible to describe, crushing bone and snapping sinews. It was perfect, and the only thing better than the damage was the reaction it got. Everyone took it differently.

Laila was proud. Muffled her cry. Tried to stifle it. But Sara didn’t miss it, saw the way she fell down and crumpled. She was hurting, and while she doubted the arm was broken, it wouldn’t be doing much anytime soon. She was down a limb, and in a match like this, that was death.

Sara stood straight and walked after Laila, calm and cool now that she was in the strong position. She didn’t want to rush this. ”Having trouble?” She took a step in and lashed out with a soccer kick, going for a field goal on her opponent’s stomach.

The pain hurt worse than Laila cared to admit as she law on her back, teeth gritted as she clutched the stricken limb. Trying to move her fingers caused little explosions of fresh pain to burst along the bones of her arm and wrist. Rotating her hand was difficult, as though the wrist had locked in placed, and her fingers were barely responding. Despite herself, the tiniest flickers of fear entered Laila's mind as she began to wonder just what kind of damage Sara had done to her arm.

Either way, there was no doubt that her arm was going to be difficult to use from this point on-- which, in a match like this, that was the worst possible thing that could have happened.

She saw Sara standing over her now, looking calm, collected and in control, and the fact infuriated Laila even more. Then Sara lashed out with the kick: Laila rolled, trying to shield her vulnerable stomach, and the blow instead smacked against her ribs. A loud grunt of pain escaped her lips, and she was sent rolling gingerly away from the blonde, sucking in air through clenched teeth as she tried to get her knees under her and get back upright.

Not like this....I can't lose like this...

”You’re lucky, you know.” Sara followed after her prey with slow, deliberate steps as she recoiled from the kick, a hand on her hip and a curious glint in her eye. Half of her knew that this wasn’t the wisest move, that she should close in and finish the deal. She wasn’t called the ‘Android’ because she wasted time and was inefficient, and a wounded tiger was still dangerous if you weren’t careful.

But fuck it. After having such a hard time with Laila, she wanted to cherish it. Make her opening salvo in Tension count, go in big. Besides, it wasn’t like this woman had any tools left at her disposal. She was a flopping fish, ready to be boned.

”I’ve broken arms with that move before. Dislocated them. You’ve still got it in one piece, I think. Not that it’ll save you for this fight, but hey - no hospital bills. That’s rare with me.” Reaching down, she grabbed a handful of Laila’s hair and yanked her up, forcing her to stand if she didn’t want to have a clump ripped up. The moment she was upright, Sara planted a foot on the woman's chest and gave her a hard push into the corner, forcing her there and shoving her heel up against the windpipe for a tight choke.

Roll. Move. Get your knees under you. Get up. These were the thoughts going through Laila's head as she struggled to ignore the throbbing pain in her arm. Her teeth were still clenched in a grimace as she managed to get her knees under her, but propping herself up on one arm meant having to let her hurting arm go. Begrudgingly, she had to admit, Sara's tactic of leaving her arm in pain like this was an effective one: not only was she down a limb, but now a lot of what she would normally do was being impacted by the pain of the injury.

Her grimace merely tightened at Sara's taunting words. She ignored them as best she could as she tried to get up. Sara was quickly there to help her, with a fist clutched into her hair. A hiss of pain escaped Laila's lips as she was yanked up into a kneeling position...and then, suddenly, Sara's boot was pressed into her throat, pinning her like a butterfly to the corner post.

Laila gasped and gagged, grabbing uselessly at Sara's boot as the other woman choked her. Her vision began to blur as her air supply was cut off, and for a brief moment, she gave into panic, the animal part of her brain going into a frenzy as shefound herself unable to breathe.

She quashed it immediately.

Gritting her teeth, even as she felt herself beginning to grow weak and sag against the turnbuckle, she grabbed a hold of Sara's arm with one hand...then, slowly, and painfully, reached up and grabbed a hold of it with her other, injured arm.

"This...pain...is...NOTHING," she managed to rasp.

And with that, she would push out of her corner, hopefully forcing Sara back one step hopping on one foot: trying to move before Sara could hit her with an enziguri kick or something similar, Laila would twist her entire body around and drop back, aiming to ram the American's knee hard into the mat. It wasn't going to be enough to shatter her kneecap or break her leg, but Laila knew from experience that it would hurt.