Picture Perfect

Oh? She was being challenged?

Annette had anticipated this moment to come when she officially became an AFW wrestler. However, she expected that challenge to come from within the federation. Not outside of it and certainly not during her supposed-to-be day off. The fact that this man chose to be so confrontational in an environment where they were both guests to this school only added to her frustration. The former model had done her best to avoid the perception of being an ignorant foreigner.

Annette stood with her arms folded and a rare wrinkle on her forehead as she listened to the Canadian’s words. It was obvious that he was trying to entice her, but it was more than that. A bully needed an audience. Two could play that game.

The Norwegian simply nodded her head to one side, scanning the room with her eyes as she did so. A couple of heads had started to turn their way over the commotion. It appeared as though the instructor had stepped out for the moment. Her eyes returned to Pierre more determined than when they had parted. "That’s quite a bigoted perspective for a martial artist. Clearly I am not the only one here speaking out of pride, hm?”

Her cold tone felt unfamiliar and wrong even as it left her throat, but she didn’t seem to care. It felt right. The model stepped forward into his space with hands at her hips as she stared him down. “I can prove all of that and more that right now. Your Jiu-Jitsu against mine. First to three. I'll even start on my back, just for you.”

Yes. She was being challenged.

Perhaps Pierre could have avoided it had Pierre been the bigger man to accept what is being shown in front of him. However, it made sense for the French-Canadian to throw down the gauntlet in his mind. Pierre has been in this country to know this is just a certainty and can’t escape the way of things. Of course, wanting to teach a model a lesson probably was not the plan that he set out at the start of the day, but it has turned out this way. There are countless instances where this has happened, and the French-Canadian wanted to make a point. Both made their point, and Pierre would die on the hill he stands on. Both were frustrated, but the Quebecoise cared not if it meant making a statement for everyone to see.

From the corner of his gaze, he saw that some students were noticing their quarrel. It can’t be helped, knowing that he stood for what he believed in. The commotion has brought a few eyes, and it's a wonder Sebastian hasn’t noticed it all yet. “You can think whatever you wish, darling. I’m just saying it how it is.” Unlike Annette’s, his cold tone felt natural. Somewhat learned in the business world where he has that cerebral mentality. And it’s going to take more than Annette’s words to make him back down. Even if it’s as cold as the homeland, she came from.

Clearly, the European ex-model wasn’t going to back down. Good. Will make whatever comes next more gratifying. “Here and now, huh?” He chuckled. “Sure. I accept.” His smirk turned upside down once his forehead butted with hers. “Judo, just so we’re clear. I don’t follow Gracie’s bullshit.” The harsh shove towards her shoulders would emphasize the last word that left his mouth—more than enough force to send her back, if not on her butt.

Was Pierre a gentleman? No.

Was he cocky and arrogant? Probably.

Did he think he was better than her? She didn’t doubt that in the slightest.

It wasn’t as if he was the first jerk Annette had ever met in her life. A good handful of them came with the territory, the reality of competitive sports and martial arts. It was easy enough to ignore them, to not stoop to that level. But Pierre had to be the first to levy personal attacks. His way of using that profound pride and stature to outright demean was almost inconsolable. And yet she could almost forgive that. She could deal with unkind words and a big ego.

What she couldn’t accept was when he put his hands on her.

Annette yelped as she was pushed by her shoulders, tripping on her back foot and hitting the floor with her back a second later. Nearly every eye in the dojo had turned their way to the commotion to find the site of a frail model being loomed over by her sneering, muscular male aggressor. The Norwegian propped herself up and whipped the loose strands of silver hair clear from her eyes. The serenity behind them had dulled. What was left was hardened and callous; frustration only seconds away from boiling over as her vision narrowed on Pierre. “Son of a-”

“Yes! Passion! I love it!” The voice of her manager resounded throughout the room. Annette’s neck craned to find Sebastian standing to one side in the space between them, his eyes glowing with that questionable look he had gotten all too often in his freelancer days. His arms practically caressed her from a distance as he spoke. “Annette, you’re on fire, my darling! That is the kind of beauty Japan should worship!”

The exotic photographer stepped around, patting the Canadian brute on the shoulder of his gi. “Congratulations, handsome. You’ve created a divine opportunity for the name Annette Weber to blaze a trail across the Far East! She will accept your challenge, wholeheartedly, under one condition.” It was at that moment Jin came running from the otherside of the dojo holding a camera in his hands. He skid to a stop in front of them and handed it off to Sebastian.

“Slow, Jonas.”

"Bite me."

What was this? Why was he speaking for her? Ann barely had time to question it as Sebastian leaned in close to whisper in the judoka's ear.

“Don’t worry, darling. I get the best angles in the business. And I can already see your good side. Mm.” He complimented with a stroke of his fingers across Pierre’s deft jawline.

Ann had no idea what was happening right now. Her mouth had remained parted through their brief exchange with the reflex to say...something. As usual, Sebastian’s mind and mouth were too closely connected, moving too fast for her to catch the gauntlet being thrown down. The Norwegian looked between them briefly before she shut her eyes and let free a resigned sigh.

She reopened them a moment later and met Pierre’s gaze with renewed focus. A determination. Annette propped herself up on her elbows and beckoned him to the mat with a wave of her hand and a coy smile. “Your move, 'handsome.'”

Well, she did say she wanted to start on her back.

Before, the whole commotion was somewhat contained between the two of them. And Pierre probably could have kept it at that. Probably should have, in all honesty. But in the Quebecoise’s mind, this was something that he had to make a point of, to make it known towards the Norwegian. Sure, Pierre was bullheaded, but he had his own passion and pride in the sport that he trained for many years. So someone coming in untested wouldn’t fly in his mind. Tensions were already running high, but the French-Canadian put an emphasis on his pride and snapped.

In truth, the judoka didn’t realize what had happened until he paid more attention to his surroundings. Though that attention was snapped back to reality thanks to the voice of one man. Sebastian, that damn photographer. How long had he been aware of this? Pierre’s head snapped to the direction of the voice and rather than the expected fury, which a bunch of patrons shared that expression, his was completely the opposite. It was unexpected, even the French-Canadian gave a puzzled look. “What are you-” He held his tongue, grunting out of frustration as his hand ran over his buzzcut. Looking around, just seeing everyone as Sebastian went on praising the Norwegian model. At least until he put his hand on his shoulder. The quizzical look hardened even more. Why the heck was he happy?

Soon as he called…Jonas?...that is his name? Nah, the pass said something else. Jin. That’s the one. And there’s something else underneath.

‘AFW’

Fuck.

The pieces were starting to form in his mind. Of course, he could have come to the conclusion that she was a part of AFW. Though he didn’t pay attention to anything else other than his own matches. He rubbed his face with his palm, his mind already in a mess, and the finger stroking around Pierre’s jawline, which he roughly swatted away. “Don’t you dare!” He let out a frustrated sigh. Pierre didn’t take much attention to what that blowhard had to say, but with the few pieces he had, he can put two and two together.

“Tch! You wanna take pictures while I humble this beauty you worship? Fine by me. I’ll let you know the best angle too.” He adjusted the ends of his belt, giving it a tight tug. “Hmph, Quel homme d'honneur. Connard.” Pierre muttered underneath his breath. His attention finally went to Annette who propped herself up, beckoning him to come. So that’s the game she wants to play, huh. “You know the way to my heart.” He said sarcastically as he pushed Sebastian aside, getting close enough to the European beauty. Bringing himself down onto his knees, he brought his hands up. Pretty much like Newaza back in the day. Shuffling on his knees as if he’s heading towards her straight on. Except he would quickly move to the side so that he would purposely position himself away. Something basic, but more to see how this rookie would react to that.

Ann took the moment of preparation she had to adjust her attire alongside Pierre. She mimicked his movements in fixing her gi and re-tying her belt around her waist, keeping everything as snug as possible for the fight headed her way.

Pierre was a rude, arrogant man on the surface, but Annette could tell from a glance that he hadn't reached where he was by chance. He had a hardened exterior familiar to the veterans and masters that lived and died by their respective pedigrees. Truth be told, she hadn’t been given many opportunities to compete against men. Strength wasn't the deciding factor in Judo or Jiu-Jitsu, but it certainly helped.

That wouldn’t mean she would make it easy for him. She didn’t want to win this. She needed to.

Jin unclasped the camera from his waistband and readied it in her view. Sebastian stood to the side with the smirk of someone with too much time on his hands. The students settled in a quiet circle all around them, breaking open some water bottles and peppering the atmosphere with snickers.

True to her word, Ann remained on her back as the Canadian challenger approached. Her hands prepared to meet him as he came down onto his knees, expecting a full-frontal confrontation from the outset. The attack never came, however. Instead, Pierre bided his time on the fringe, attempting to round her guard with a steady clockwise shuffle to one side. More careful than she had expected from a guy his size, but she wasn't going to underestimate anything else about him just yet. She would meet him step for step.

Ann shifted on the spot, using her legs to rotate on the spot and match Pierre’s pace. The Norwegian kept him centered in her view, staring him down from across the length of her body while keeping her guard tight.

Say what you will about the man, and a lot has been said already. But Pierre wasn’t an idiot when it came to the ground game.

Such a thing is still an essential aspect of the art of Judo, although most casuals see the randori. The battle never stops, wherever you’re standing or grappling on the ground. It would have been interesting to see how Ann fairs in that respect, but something tells Pierre that she might not be able to stop him flinging the Norwegian down to the earth itself. At least if the offer to start from the ground is anything to go by. It might be nothing, but if Pierre had much sense, that would be a clue to dig further on.

However, the contest wasn’t about scoring takedowns and ippons. Much as it would have yielded some magnificent pictures taken while Ann’s mid-flight. Something to ponder on later.

As of right now, the French-Canadian tested the waters, not going straight into it, all gung ho on offense. Perhaps that is what Ann hoped for, especially as she’s starting on her back—trying to pull guard. How pitiful. Ann did react well enough, meeting the Quebecoise step for step, shuffling just as he shuffled. The crazed canuck figured that the Norwegian wouldn't move or adjust her positioning. Many don’t realize that it’s easy to get trapped if you’re being so aggressive. Pierre might have had the weight, but it pays to use it properly.

His pride as a black belt is on the line, after all.

So, Ann most definitely wants Pierre to come to her. Fine by him. Pierre edges closer, keeping attentive to the European's movements. “Tortue…” Once the French-Canadian got close enough, he suddenly reached out towards one of Ann’s ankles in an attempt to make it rise, letting it lay onto his shoulder, one of his arms reaching to grab from the outside grab on Ann’s neat lapels. All before his feet pistoned on the mats, charging and pressing onto the Norwegian. However, his plan isn’t to end up between Ann’s legs but to use that sudden burst of speed and power to end up onto her side and teach her how to pass a silly guard like that. All in a bid to establish control on Ann’s side by pressing his body onto her chest.

Was it smart to start from the floor? Definitely not.

Annette didn't know anything about Pierre or how he preferred to roll on the mats. Going in blind against someone that you were determined to beat was shortsighted. Her old teacher would be having a field day with her right now.

There was a rare determination in her gaze that Sebastian noticed as he watched the pair from the boundary. Her saccharine smile and natural serenity felt superseded somehow, mired with competitive instinct. It was clear to anyone how badly the Norwegian wanted to win. That she'd even abandon her better judgment for the sake of it.

But Ann didn't want to just win. She wanted to be the one teaching a lesson tonight.

She was going to make this hurt.

She did her best to meet him step for step, watching Pierre's pace with rapid glances up and down the length of his imposing physique. She watched for tells and any sudden changes when the Canadian suddenly lunged and took her leg on his shoulder. Her lower half left the floor, exposing her for a swift pass by her opponent. Ann saw where his eyes were focused.

Ann rolled onto her side, facing him as he came down. Her arm would go to wrap itself around the Canadian's neck as it came near and trap him in a side headlock. If she stopped him from moving, Ann would reach her other hand underneath and lock her grip together. With each second, she'd be able to tighten the headlock and constrict the blood going through that massive head.

In one way, Pierre had to hand it to models. He certainly doesn’t have the experience Annette has, but the way she was ready when the cameras were on her is neat. Kind of like an actor soon as the director shouts, “Lights, Camera, Action.” The Quebecoise supposed he could have that same skill, especially when it comes to being the ladies' man he still thinks he is. Then again, it’s natural to want to impress a lady upon first impressions. Or so Pierre believes.

So it’s interesting that the Norwegian could turn on a dime and compose herself. Not to say that it’s completely hidden from what her natural desires are, hidden beneath the mask. While the French-Canadian was looking for openings on Annette’s guard, he glanced at her face ever so briefly. What’s curious was ‘that look’ she had. And he’d seen that look plenty of times in his days competing. Indeed, no mistaking it. Despite the calm serenity, there’s the drive to compete and win. Annette’s got the will made for an athlete.

Good. At least this one won’t be an absolute pushover.

But the power of will can only get you so far. One of the many lessons Pierre wanted to teach her today. The canuck lunged in, swiftly moving to get in on the model. While the temptation to take it easy on a supposed amateur is strong, Pierre opted not to go in just like he would to any opponent. Partly to show off the divide in their skill and give her a taste of the real world. Also, partly because his past sensei would be livid at the notion. He wouldn’t dare.

Annette didn’t collapse and crumbled like a house of cards, much to his surprise. Rather than letting Pierre have his way with her, she put up a defense as she rolled to the side, and her arm reached around Pierre’s head. His grappling background taught him never to let anyone take his head. But as he’d tuck his chin to his collarbone, leaving his arm to wrap around his face, Pierre noticed one particular thing.

Annette didn’t fully capture his legs. Huh.

Which made what came next a lot easier as he continued the forward momentum, getting his legs away from hers and moving towards the side. He’d move one arm around the one wrapped around his head, grabbing hold of the cloth of her sleeve. Should all things go well, Pierre intends to fully trap her in a traditional catch wrestling staple: the Fujiwara armbar.

The Norwegian was moving too fast. She understood that well. Maybe it was the pressure of being underneath him that was forcing her to act, but Annette appeared overly eager to meet him full-on. Some of the onlookers had scarcely even settled into the seats on the floor mats before the two of them were suddenly on top of each other. It was hardly ideal, starting on the back foot like this.

No, that wasn’t it. What she had done was underestimate Pierre. She’d taken him at face value and underplayed his skill without even seeing him in action. Her first impressions guided her into this skirmish and her habits were about to get her killed. So she panicked and stumbled into a mess. Annette understood all of that.

Why? Who knows. The problem was that she didn’t care. Now she would be paying for it.

Ann had the headlock cinched but she’d neglected Pierre’s mobility. It allowed the Canadian judoka to easily navigate around her posture and ease into a position where he could hammer in even more punishment. Annette’s gaze followed him intensely, shuffling her feet underneath to try and keep pace. It hardly mattered. Pierre knew exactly where he had to be. When he grabbed her arm, Ann could already guess where it was going.

"Ah!" Ann cried out, a lightning bolt shooting through her elbow. Her arm flared as it was brought skyward with the faintest resistance against his bullish strength. Another rough jerk and her hand immediately found Pierre's back, tapping rapidly on reflex.

1-0. Just like that.

Just like that.

Many aspiring and young fighters would dream of the fast tapouts and KO's. Watching those highlights and seeing everything fall into place perfectly that leads into the win. It seems like a blur, bit watch it enough times, you could breakdown exactly what lead the victim to their downfall. Everything happens in stages, either a strike hits at the right place at the right time or you're positioned in the most opportune moment for a submission. Pierre wouldn't lie that he didn't dream of having a moment like this immortalised in many highlight videos to come.

This one is different, however. A quizzical look etched in his face, mixed with the strain he was showing as that Armbar was locked in good. The French-Canadian could have easily gloated and rubbed this in Annette's face, as it would have been expected by many others. That was easy. But perhaps that was too easy.

Not to say it wasn't expected, considering the gap of experience between the two. Pierre was the one with the black belt after all and showed why he earned it. And the Québécoise did think of the Norwegian as nothing more than a white belt. Yet there was that tiny, tiny part in him that expected a bit more than...well, that.

Alas, it is what it is.

Pierre did have the courtesy to respect the tap, her arm released from the Canuck's grasp. Pierre rolled to the side, checking his gi, not even so disheveled and opened up. A few adjustments here and there and there's that. He glanced at Jin holding the camera, before shaking his head. "So far, you haven't even earned a single stripe, white belt." Pierre scoffed as he remained on one knee.

Okay, got to throw that one out there.