Guess Who's Coming to Downton

Gwen was surprisingly light.

It was a momentary, fleeting surprise for the Shibuya Striker when she effortlessly lifted the heiress from her precarious position and promptly sent her flying across the room with one arm. The blonde’s uniform offered a full view of her lean figure inched with toned musculature beneath the delicate, aromatic surface. Years of training and effort that Masuyo was able to recognize with a mere passing glance. Part of her, somewhere beneath the surface, had to admire the dedication. But an equal part of her was just eager to see the big-headed blueblood plastered against her ancestral tapestry.

Or something like that.

Either way, the sight was well worth it. Gwen’s cry at the moment before she hit the floor resonated in the Demons like the pitch of a dog whistle. The order to attack.

Masuyo dashed forward toward the downed heiress in the same instant she hit the floor. The Japanese fighter would thrust her knee forward at the end of her rush. This close, it would be easy for her opponent’s unalloyed gaze to see the taut musculature and power of the Demon’s quad hurling with the force of a bullet train right at her face.

Somewhere within the third or fourth rotation of her twirled whirlwind, a suspicion began to arise that the snobbish socialite may have perhaps underestimated the degree of difficulty it would take to reign victorious this day. Masuyo demonstrating newfound feats of sheer strength since last they met within the squared circle. Gwendolyn certainly would have remembered such beastial might brought to bare during their tag-match, and she will assuredly remember it this day alongside the nauseating sensation of weightless inertia before being indented against the plaster of the parchment decorated wall.

"...Im..pertinent..." Spinning though her world remained, Gwendolyn's stalwart efforts to ascend were aided by the cracked wall behind her. The vainglorious aristocrat muttering underneath her breath while palming the barrier behind her until she was vertical again. However, she raised her head in time to witness the demon rampaging straight towards her, but little time for anything else as the knee strike and the flexed muscles behind it were crammed against her breadbasket. Breathless through swelled cheeks and a fresh crack fissured in the wall behind her, and effectively nailed to it until allowed to succumb to quivering legs.

She could explain away the skull-shaped hole in the wall if her parents asked about it. It was almost a daily occurrence for her to get carried away through her katas. It was a small piece of damage compared to what she used to do. No problem here.

That explanation was the immediate concern in Masuyo’s mind that left as soon as it arrived in the forefront of her mind. The second was ensuring that her unwanted guest received her lesson in trying to swindle the Ai family out of a free bowl of ramen. Somewhere in there was a concern for her opponent’s wellbeing; whether that last strike was going to leave a black eye, how much power she should have put into that move. In the back of her mind, she was asking those questions.

But as the aikido prodigy stood up and looked down at her dazed adversary, slumped and defenseless, her instincts said otherwise. She wouldn’t offer anyone the insult of holding back. Even if Gwendolyn didn’t deserve her kindness.

Masuyo grabbed the heiress’ shoulders and sat her up to face the center of the room. The Demon would then kneel behind her and wrap her arm around Gwendolyn’s neck and locked in a rear naked choke.“This is how you work a bloodchoke, by the way.”

Indentations within Masuyo's fabled training hall were of scant little consequence to Gwendolyn as well, unbecoming though it may be if this splayed-out silhouette of herself should linger past this day as an irksome reminder of her miscalculating folly. The affluent highborn needed naught any such environmental assistance in order to comprehend the breadth of her current predicament. Albeit alongside the quite literal dilemma of catching her actual breath after withstanding the aikido prodigy's ruthless knee strike. Gwendolyn unknowingly situated upon her knees scarcely after regaining a steadied breathing rate only for it to be succinctly stifled once again via the flexed bicep of her adversary pawed at with grimaced discontent.

A split-second glance of an emptied dojo preceded the torqued tension constricting her windpipe, accompanied with the abrasive closeness of the Demon latched upon her. The honed caliber and expertise behind Masuyo's application dwarfing Gwendolyn's, hacked breathes masking her vexation from the noodle waitress offering tutelage whilst in the midst of outwrestling her. "..." Gwen offering Masuyo a venomous glare over her shoulder before soldiering them up to their feet. Aimless resistance suddenly unveiling its ultimate purpose as the throttled heiress would scrunch in her legs and thrust them against the battered wall. Careening them both backwards and hopefully into a plummet that allows Gwen an opportunity for freedom.

Masuyo was waiting for something more. She was not sure exactly what in particular, but something more befitting of a supposed champion of the world’s premier league. Oh, sorry. Former champion.

Maybe that was just it. There was nothing. After all, she hadn’t seen anything particularly impressive from Gwen aside from some fancy kicks. Nothing to show her as anything more than a pampered flower living in her self-assured world of money and self-indulgent ramen swiping. Masuyo took her as nothing but another thief. Another thief that would enjoy a nice sleep.

That image shattered as surely as the wall at her back the moment after the heiress suddenly sprung back from the ground in a burst of power. The MMA fighter almost didn’t have time to be surprised. The power spoke for itself; a residual force that had no reason to be in a body as small and supple as the one Gwen possessed.

If hitting the wall wasn’t bad enough, the back of the heiress’ head slammed into the ridge of Masuyo's brow. A sudden shock fired straight between her eyes. The weakened plaster stabbed at the back of her shoulders as more pieces of its intricate artwork fell at their feet. She stumbled and brought both of them to the floor in her awkward grasp. The aikido girl was quick to try and reapply the hold, but the momentary reprieve would be more than enough time for Gwen to escape…if she was half the fighter she made herself to be.

Being flippantly dismissive towards whatever alluringly veiled strength Gwendolyn possessed within her supple leggings ended up becoming the egregious error thoroughly capitalized upon by the Affluent Aristocrat. It was certainly an odd occurrence for the heiress' adversary to underestimate her foe to the same arrogant extent Gwendolyn usually does. The key difference perhaps being that Gwen was reluctantly acknowledging her shortcoming before her Ramen Waitress could eventually reach the same conclusion. Precious seconds dared not be frivolously squandered, lest Gwendolyn intended to suffer the abject indignity of being lulled into a strangled slumber. Belligerently awakening beneath the victorious Demon and an assuredly insufferable smirk.

Adrenalized strength and a noblewoman's pride fueling the comeback that resulted in Gwendolyn bearing the burden of Masuyo's full weight before the indentation in the wall grew ever larger. Backpedaling velocity unintentionally ramming the back of her head into her adversary's facials, Gwendolyn breathing more than just a sigh of relief from the sweet freedom garnered with Masu's arms unlatching themselves. "...*pant*..." Stepping forward with a beleaguered gait, the snobbish heiress regained her composure as best she could with her back unwisely shown to aikido prodigy...except in a spinning royal blue flash, Gwen would extend her leg outward in a vicious Sobat Kick aimed straight for Masuyo's breadbasket. Cracks continuing to fracture against the wall behind Masuyo.

Maybe Gwendolyn had more fire in her belly than the Demon was willing to give her credit for. There was nothing wrong with her technique or the pressure she applied. That rear naked choke would have grown men out cold in under five seconds. Masuyo could attest to that fact firsthand.

But the heiress hung on with a fighter’s determination. She fought hard, bit down, and slipped out with only a few breaths to spare. As frustrated as it made Masuyo at that moment, she couldn't not admire those kinds of guts. Even if it was for just a moment.

In the same instant, Mausyo moved to surprise her, a flash kick rushed to meet the Demon of Shibuya just as quickly. Her eyes bulged inside her skull as the kick smacked her sternum dead center, sending her back down to the ground and burying her further into the wall. She coughed out the last air from her lungs, slumping slightly with her hands across her chest. The aikido prodigy leaned her head back to the wall as she glanced at her adversary. A small, sudden smile had appeared on her face before she realized it.

"Ow…” She winced. “You kick like Valley."

Gwendolyn can attest that the nebulous void associated with impending unconsciousness is quite the effective motivator. In her learned opinion absolutely nothing compares, quite frankly. The smug socialite earning her own miraculous freedom thanks in small part to that basic survival instinct alongside her own grappling expertise, natural ingenuity, and a vehement desire not to be awoken by a victorious demon. Rasping breathes and sputtered coughs eventually receded as Gwen regained her composure besides an equally fatigued Masuyo, whom she'd intended on furthering her advantageous position upon. But finding herself incapable of doing do. An earnest smile halting any notions of capitalizing further. Gwendolyn abruptly...rethinking her approach. Instead standing upright, regal confidence regained.

"Hmph, you noticed~...All while not even utilizing my dominant striking leg either. Although it appears I may have to forego showing any further leniency if you're capable of such stiflingly effective chokes and pummels. Consider this a brief respite before continuing further than. Take heed that no further quarter will be shown, and I thoroughly expect an adept challenger such as yourself to show me the same professional courtesy as well..." Gwendolyn elegantly imparted with a sophisticated smirk, a flowing flourish of her golden ringlets as she wafted her hand through them before taking her leave and approaching the middle of the dojo once again. A poised gait to her steps albeit with a sashayed swivel to her hips with one smooth leg crossing the other, awaiting Masuyo there with hands positioned on her knees.

She messed up and was about to pay for it. Badly.

Masuyo had been in this situation more times than she could count. Underestimating her foes wasn’t something she made a habit of, but it did happen now and again. Valley Doll - her first opponent in AFW - was one of those people, so she had a good idea of what was coming next. She tightened up and braced for another kick… which never came.

Her eyes raised and noticed Gwen strutting away back to the center of their dojo. She’d held back? Masuyo's English wasn't foolproof, but what came out of the woman’s mouth sounded pretty close to a compliment. The confusion came and went, letting a chuckle slip free from her aching ribs as she stood up from the floor.

“Yeah yeah, whatever you say! I don’t mind admitting it! You’ve got some nice moves for a stuck-up princess!” Her lips thinned into a sharp smirk. She tightened her fists and locked eyes with Gwendolyn. As much as it hurt to admit, she was feeling eager to throw herself at this woman again. Their mutual promise sparks a heat inside her heart. “It’s coming back to me now. There’s no way I’m gonna hold back against someone like you. But don’t forget: we’re not in the wrestling ring this time! If you want to take me on, show me what you can really do!”

The Demon made the first move. She let out a warrior’s cry as she threw a high roundhouse toward Gwendolyn’s temple and followed through into a reverse roundhouse with her opposite leg. Whether the heiress managed to avoid it or not, Masuyo would come down onto two feet and channel that momentum into a spinning back kick to Gwen's breadbasket.

Gwendolyn saw little purpose in denying that she indeed felt the practically predatorial inclination of capitalizing upon a beleaguered foe after having successfully caved in Masuyo's abdomen with her Sobat Kick. An heiress' regal wrath circumvented and halted however by what was nothing more than a genuine compliment and an earnest smile behind it. An acknowledgement of her sophisticated grappling expertise was in actuality all she wished for from Masuyo once all the blustering bravado was set aside, and she did indeed begin to feel vindicated once Masuyo began complimenting this particular stuck up princess. However, what ceased Gwendolyn's offensive had scant little to do with pity or the sense of accomplishment from beginning to succeed in her overall task, but moreso sensing...camaraderie, with the downtrodden noodle waitress. The conflagrant flames of pure-hearted competition shared between them bringing about an astonishing revelation to the Spoiled Socialite. Gwendolyn, has reason to believe, that she may indeed actually be having...fun. A sense of enjoyable merriment she sought to prolong rather than end prematurely, swelling within her in spite of the fact that a humbling defeat could have very well have been in the cards this day.

The heiress' own noble etiquette compelling her to bestow Masuyo with due complimentary acknowledgements of her fighting skills after having irksomely partaken of them firsthand. Although Gwendolyn considered this to be sufficient enough evidence to henceforth discard her metaphorical gloves and combat this Demon with every shred of sublime finesse and regal poise she can muster. "...*giggle*...I verily intend to~..." Gwendolyn coyly replied with a limbered stance taken as Masuyo came rampaging straight towards her, a swift duck and nimble backpedal narrowly evading the whirlwind of kicks slicing through the air. Except the spinning back-kick would have no target period at the other end of Masuyo's leg. Gwendolyn exhibiting feathered weightlessness as she balanced her hands on her foe's outstretched leg, a hazel-eyed brilliance making the noodle waitress the center of Gwen's world in a flawless display of balletic grace. Albeit, one split second later the vision of perfection Masuyo was witnessing would become replaced by the royal blue of her trunks upon snugly seating herself atop Masuyo's shoulders once again. Sublime softness enveloping her from all sides until a reared back Frankensteiner would crown her noggin onto the thinly matted flooring.