Sophia Nechiporenko vs. Senji Takijima - Cold Rage

Rules: Standard rules. No illegal holds.
Victory Conditions: Victory can only be achieved by making your opponent submit.




Someone was finally getting the message.

At first, Sophia was worried that her intentions had gone entirely misunderstood by upper management. She'd crushed two opponents beyond recognition and been paid generously for both. As if that were some sort of recompense. They must have assumed she had been like all the rest, seeking cheap thrills and dull applause from an audience of idiots.

Sophia had no intention of mixing herself with the likes of the masochists and lustful creatures that clung to this federation like a disease. Her goal was simple and singular, guided by instincts honed to a razor point in her motherland long ago. She wanted the old times back again. She wanted to break people. She wanted to break men.

Senji Takijima appeared to be just that. There was little to go on from his profile on the AFW Portal. Some meager victories here and there, seemingly the underground type and a man after her own heart. Anything beyond that failed to hold her attention much longer. Until her background checks led her back to a place on Earth all too familiar to the ex-specialist: Russia.

The vague details surrounding Senji's trip alluded to something secretive, personal, and violent. Just enough to pique Sophia's interest. She had to see for herself.

Now here she stood at the entrance, snapping off the last bit of tape from her fingers. Her single eye regarded the light flashing through the entrance. She was silent and distant, focusing on something unseen. Taken by thoughts better left unsaid as her lips curled at the corners.

Theme:

Sophia Nechiporenko:

Sophia stepped out into the wailing and drums of her theme exploding across the arena. The Russian fighter revealed herself for the second time to the audience in a new outfit. It was a personal number from her military service and one she was saving for the right moment. Sambo had been her favorite sport growing up, albeit not by choice. At first, it terrified her, but somewhere along the way, it became natural. Wearing it again brought to Sophia a nostalgia that was curiously human for someone of her 'experiences'. She was eager to relive them as if the troubling smile across her face was not evidenced enough.

She climbed the steel steps and entered the ring. Her heavy steps glided her past the referee to her corner at the opposite end of the ring. There she turned and pressed her back to the turnbuckle, watching the entrance and waiting for her opponent with an almost palpable hunger in her single-eyed gaze.

Golden eyes, not unlike gold coins, opened. Slight bags betrayed the metaphorical light there, one of the only signs of self-punishment on display. A small part of his mind told him this was not healthy. But the problem lurking within his mental plane won out. Regardless, he wanted to leave his past behind. But, it would seem that it did not want to leave him. Dip his hand back into the bottle, so to speak. The muted tune of his theme song answered the beating drums of Sophia's, as if the USA itself was challenging her motherland.

"ARMAGEDDON. COME, COME, AND GET IT.", the recording unknowingly taunted. The two songs were something he was at least allowed to choose himself. Fast and moderately paced guitar work called to his attention nearly as much as the swordsmanship he tried to keep fresh in his muscle memory. Listening to music and katana practice gave him something to fill his time, and allowed him to engage in his Japanese ancestry besides speaking the language. Not that he had anything against his American father. For Takijima's sake, Senji'd went on a path that many would see as destructive. Did his father want this? The young man did not know because he was not here to voice his thoughts.

Senji leaned off the railing, exiting the opposing entrance after Sophia had her moment. Though his was to less fanfare. He only really cared about his fresh start. So, said absence did not disturb him. No…what did unnerve him slightly was the lack of official information on his opponent. 1 match to her name. And he'd not time to watch all of it. Yuto, that was his name. She'd violated the man. Such a display disgusted Senji to no end, despite his lack of restrictions regarding most matches. Something about hentai matches rubbed him the wrong way. If the conditions weren't hardcore and he was assigned to do one, then he could stomach it. Senji did not actively seek these matches out though.

Still, he couldn't help but find her attractive. Of course he found many women to his fancy but Sophia wasn't an abomination. Physically, at least. Mentally, not that he was one to talk, she MIGHT have issues. Senji did not dare try to go for any illegal resources to find more information. That just filled your potential grave faster.

Back to the present.

- Come On -


Regarding his attire, it consisted of a durable, coal black jacket with a creamy white coloring the bottom. His pants were rather fitting to his skin, meant to not get in the way when grappling. Nothing was underneath the short overcoat, as he was looking to give off a "Street Fighter"-stereotype. Something more advanced could come later. He scanned the arena, eyeing the faces he'd probably forget within the weeks before turning his attention to the single eye focused only on him. Hairs stood up on the back of his neck. That….sense…humans get when being analyzed at full utilization. The sole of a shoe stepped up the platform before he knew it, Takijima casting his gaze off to the right. Leering over to the opposite turnbuckle, he tested it with a hand before jumping and swinging his body over the ropes. The landing put him in the corner, that trained alertness refusing to allow him any laid-back mannerisms 'Natasha' exhibited.

Facing her currently, his eyes slightly softened in expression. He waved a hand at her, gifting the greeting he usually did before the punching began.

"Hello.", came a strong voice lacking a heavy accent. There was no denying he still sounded youthful.

Senji dropped the dominant left hand, rolling his shoulders. Now, to await the competition to formally begin…if she didn't want to speak first.

Sophia tasted the air and let the atmosphere settle on her tongue. The emotions therein she could feel in every fiber of her being. The anticipation, the tension, the anxiety, and the vigor of thousands of souls hanging on to this moment. She had become so accustomed to having her presence masked that being the center of attention made the sensations all the more palpable. The energy of the stadium resonated with her own inner chaos, forcing jitters through her powerful body and chills to her fingertips.

Shenji couldn’t have chosen a better time to make himself known.

He stepped out to middling fanfare, but that was perfectly fine. There was only one person he had to pay attention to. Up close, he cut a much more impressive figure. She stepped out of her corner and drew a few steps closer towards the center of the ring, affording herself a better view of her prey. Sturdy and stoic, the red-headed fighter cut an impressive figure. Much more than one would expect from a man of few words.

Hello?

Yes, hello.

His placid greeting may as well have fallen on deaf ears for all the response it had gotten out of Sophia. The Russian woman tilted her head ever slightly at his words. Her eyes drank in his stature and demeanor. Not a lash out of place slipped past her attention. “Privyet.”

The rest of the world fell away from her. Sophia stood deathly silent in the middle of the ring, ignoring even the official’s instructions. A swirling abyss cast forth from her single eye and caught Shenji within its inescapable malevolence. Simple steps guided her towards him, standing only a few steps away as she finished the measure of her prey. Her lips stretched into a fanged, voracious grin. “You will go easy on me, yes?”

Senji wasn't much of a fool. He had some form of sense for when he was being eyed. He was a handsome fellow, at least in his opinion. Far from the ugly duckling, at least. He wasn't the type to use such looks to his advantage though unlike the opponent before him. Yet he didn't know that part. Most of the backstory was classified. Never in his life had he seen so many black bars or empty boxes on a public file. The greeting seemed to travel across the ring and settle on his bones. The foreign language received a tilt of the head, Senji presuming that she either said the equivalent of a swear or hello. He slowly nodded as a neutral response to that debacle. Maybe he should pick up Russian….


Speaking of, this…practitioner sauntered over to him like a predator stalking her prey. As overused as that was, it was an appropriate term. As she stood over him, Senji didn't falter nor shout at the devil. He flinched a smidge, but refused to fall so easily. There was only an inch difference in height. But…something yelled at him to recall that looks can be deceiving. The commanding inquiry caused a hand to run along his own throat, back and forth across his neck. Basic responses were dry. An intermediate one would be better.

I'll treat you like you treat me. That was the basic gist of it.

"-----I'll give you what I'm given. Is that…. optimal?"

It came out as a confident answer. To himself, he believed that to be a good response. The delay was a side effect of having chosen his words carefully. Usually, he didn't slip up. But…those eyes…er, eye. He stared at the abyss, giving Sophia his attention for the moment. The brown-haired man who received the boy's hidden judgment…even his eyes were far less crazed than whatever was firing through the neurons of her brain. Regarding that matter in more detail, he'd taken enough care to cover his tracks. But no crime was perfect. That's what it was. He knew so deep in his heart.

But now the past didn't matter. He took care of what he deemed right, and that was to be the end of. His present stood in front of him, as Sophia likely leered at her newly matched opponent….

"On the off-chance you don't know, my name is Senji. If you want to give it to me, what might yours be?"

Cow after cow, pig after pig. The young were always eager to march to their saintly deaths.

Perhaps Sophia wasn't one to talk. She was the youngest and most eager of them all once. In some ways she still was. Chasing the sounds of fighting and led by the collar to the scent of fresh blood. It was no surprise that she would end up here, then.

When she looked at Shenji, she saw something attractive, yes, but at the same time, eerily familiar.

She couldn't help noticing the cadence in his response. The voice of someone that was taken aback and unforthcoming. Sophia could recognize the tone with only the faintest hint.  Did she not strike a compassionate figure? Was she scary?

Amusing.

“Da. That will work.” Tempting as it was to cater to the image of a nameless monster, the Russian wouldn’t leave him completely in the dark. There was nothing to be gained when both of them kept to themselves. No, she wanted to know as much about Shenji as possible. There was no greater ambition tonight than ensuring his debut went smoothly. She placed a hand to her chest and bowed her head slightly. “Sophia. I hope that I will enjoy fighting with you.”

With that, the bell rang out for both of them. The match was underway and the referee wisely stepped away from both of the competitors. Sophia only gave the Japanese fighter a couple of steps backward before she promptly raised her fists. Her eye was laser-focused on his face as she slowly began to circle him.

The twitching muscles at the corner of her lips betrayed the enthusiasm beneath her cool countenance. Even so, she did not advance on her opponent, allowing him the opening act. Show me what you’re made of, the glare of her iris beckoned.

As she bowed to Senji, his eyes tracked her as she dipped below his head. Such a mannerism made him do the same for her, minus the hand to his chest.

Scared.

Mmmm….that could be considered too strong of a word. Wary was more of the correct emotion. He liked her, at least on a surface level, but there was SOMETHING….off. Senji was sure it stared him directly in the face. He simply wasn't allowed to see it. Don't turn your back to her, then. That advice ran through his own mind. Then, she began circling him - fists poised to strike.

His own arms snapped to life, moving to cover his face mainly. While she presumably stepped behind him in her predatory position, Senji's shoe twisted around with the entire body following suit. Now he faced her properly, and wasted no time to use this opening. Senji fired off a shocking left packed with a considerable amount of effort. The target? Trying to pierce past her hands and direct his fist into her solar plexus.

First, he needed to perform something to please the crowd before focusing on what he considered his comfort zone.

However, this was only the first feint in a grand sequence. If it were to hit home or be blocked, Senji crouched his body low and rushed at his opponent. Should he get close enough, he endeavored to wrap an arm around her middle and the right limb followed its opposite, moving to interlock with one another. Lifting with his legs and arms, Senji's muscles tensed into a malleable metal's texture, metaphorically, as he tried to lift Sophia into the air and a short distance above his head. Then, he finalized this by moving forward and introducing her back into the canvas in a rather hard fashion. That'd hurt if she didn't counter.

Senji was also semi-affected by the change in position; he raised his head up in order to not be stuck in a disadvantaged position for too long. From Sophia's bottom position, it may have looked like he was leaning over her as many practitioners did after a takedown attempt. Though he hadn't the time to administer a proper Full Mount. Perhaps that will cost something...

Drills, sparring, fighting, killing, and surviving. No matter the grounds upon which Sophia was fated to contend, it was the beginning seconds that were most precious. Feeling every inch of nerves, veins, and muscle prepared for action. That tenuous moment when it finally snapped free.

Shenji’s punch shattered through the cries of the baying audience and the electrifying atmosphere of the stadium. Sophia tightened her guard and allowed him to hit dead center. Even then the power was enough to force her back a step, catching her off balance. Exactly what her opponent was hoping for.

Her lone eye followed him in his brief lunge as he narrowly closed the distance. He was going for her waist. The ex-soldier could practically see the move playing out in front of her. If only she were fast enough to stop him. The mind could see but the body was far from willing. All she could manage was to smile down at him.

A second later, Sophia found herself in a whirlwind. She threw her arm out and slapped at the ground in the same instant her back hit the floor with a resounding thud. The shock met her palm and spread through her arm. All that she would pay from his swift maneuver was a pair of empty lungs and a punch to the spine.

The Russian's legs would coil around and clamp down on his knee with her surging thighs. The Sambo fighter would summon her core and push into his shoulder, moving to swiftly flip the position and bring Shenji onto his back. If she were successful, Sophia would hardly be able to afford the time for a Full Mount either. She would settle for the half-mount position the pair would find themselves in and promptly raise her arm only to slam it back down onto Shenji's handsome mug. Over and over, the Russian's elbow strikes would ruthlessly assault his head.

Control. Temperament.

Those were some of the main lessons he got out of martial arts and his overall bouncing between different schools. They could hurt people. And he chose to use it in a competitive fashion, yes. However, unnecessary death matches were something that felt off to him. So, in time as he developed, Senji found himself developing a honorable code contrary to what the Sambo fighter currently on the defending end might've had in her arsenal. For example, he did not go for low blows nor for strikes like eye pokes. Fighters that couldn't tell the difference drew his irritation. Hence, he refused to do anything to shatter this simple code of his, and that included Sophia here.

However, now, his view was spinning until he found himself on his own back. Huh, when did that happen? His thoughts were interrupted by an elbow slamming into his face, reaching into the high single digits in terms of hit count. And he did not bleed into the canvas until around the 5th. As she pounded at him, Senji brought up the right arm in order to give a barrier between himself and the elbow trying to break him underneath its wielder. If that were to work, then he brought up the left arm to join the other limb in an effort to protect his vulnerability.

That smile of hers persisted and made him feel rather uneasy, come to think of it. But this feeling would be buried beneath the hardened, more than lithe exterior. A wall that must not be erased. Maybe damaged, but not annihilated. That's what Senji might best be described as. Despite this defense, he hadn't clamped his legs around her own. However, Senji decided to try to use this to his advantage. Concentrating his power into his hips mainly, he bumped to the left in a bid to destabilize her. After that, he sought to send a right hook towards that smug jawline of hers! As expected, the left hand was kept back to work as a defense. A balance between a cannon and the fortress walls, metaphorically.

This wasn’t a hard position to keep. Sophia had made men twice Senji’s size break underneath her before just like this. There was a therapeutic simplicity to it, drilling elbow after elbow into his exposed skull with the same zest as a hammer to a nail.

The Russian couldn’t give it up. It was only when she saw him bleed that her expression finally changed. Her face became more animated, lively. A bit of early first blood. A pleasant surprise that she wanted to extend for as long as possible.

Unfortunately for her, Senji only allowed “as long as possible” to last two seconds. Her next blow was blocked by his forearm. “Don’t hide.”

The Russian attempted to hammer him with a few more elbows, but her blows were landing shallow. Killjoy. Before she could reassess, a burst of strength from underneath dislodged her temporarily, bringing Sophia upright on her knees and in range for a swift shot to the jaw. Sophia’s head snapped to the side and came back with a wicked grin stretched to one side. Only for the Japanese fighter before her.

That’s it.

Sophia lunged back at him. Her left hand grabbed Senji's guarding arm and pinned it down to his chest, leaving only the arm that struck her free. The moment she did that, her right hand would already be raised in a fist and throw an equally powerful shot to his face. The Russian would keep on her assault, showering him with blows from above with the singular intention of beating him into a bloody pulp in the most straightforward way possible.

A pained whimper emerged from his throat, then muffled by knuckles against flesh.

"Mmgghh-"

Senji was too focused on maintaining defense that he barely noticed a change in expression, his gaze fully on the fight. Then, she'd entrapped his arm underneath her palm and made it press against his chest. That left him with only the attacking arm to use. His neck was forced to torque to the left due to the aforementioned strikes, his head slamming into the unforgiving ground. His eyebrows quickly furrowed despite the current expression being one of pain at the blows and his broken defense.

Sophia's fellow wrestler kept his attacking arm raised in order to block what he could on that side. However, it lacked unlike before. The auburn haired boy went to scoot backwards and try to put Sophia further down on his body. If that were to happen as planned, then he sneaked a leg to stretch to the right before flinging his entire body in that direction after raising his hips upward. An attempt to reverse their positions! Sophia would, hopefully for him, find herself repositioned underneath Senji. If the arm was still in her grasp, then he'd attempt to brute force it free from her hands. For the first submission move, Senji endeavored to pass her guard first. This consisted of him raising his entire body up and placing his right knee over her right thigh in order to prevent Sophia from establishing a Closed Guard.

A corresponded sole found the floor and pushed off it to bring Senji forward in a bet to fully mount the Sambo fighter. Settling on her upper chest, Senji went to grab a hold of the back of her head. He swung a leg over her left arm next if that were to succeed, thus resulting in Senji attempting to wrap his leg around the back of her neck. Following this step, Senji brought his left leg up to her neck in order to lock its knee gap with the ankle of his right leg.


With that done, the mounted Triangle Choke would basically be sunk in. Though, there was a problem. Due to having his face repeatedly smashed, Senji hadn't the speed to complete the transition as smoothly as he'd liked. A slower process finally gave Takijima the notice that he hadn't gotten a chance to pull her head to her own arm to complete the chokehold properly. So at best, Senji only had most of the Triangle done. If things didn't go this way, then Senji would either compensate or falter further....