Sophia Nechiporenko vs. Senji Takijima - Cold Rage

How reassuring. Senji was a true gentleman at heart, a compelling contrast from what his dossier suggested. His background painted a troubled, dangerous youth that wasn’t unfamiliar to Sophia. Not in the slightest. She’d come equipped to put down a wild animal, a terror.

There was plenty of evidence to suggest that was still the case. That somewhere underneath was the soul and want of a killer. Someone like her. Even with the way he’d been beaten, even in the face of a relentless offense, his tone was uniquely composed. Confidence. Comfortable. Cordial. Was the violence soothing? Or, it could have been that she just wasn’t enough? Perhaps she was losing her edge? Getting too old?

Ah, this is why she needed this. Fresh blood and sweat on her skin, anxiety in every breath that came between them. There was nothing else to soothe the body and mind.

Despite her fleeting reservations, the Russian had no issue keeping Senji under control. Her surging thighs kept a firm, controlled hold over him. She did not use all of her power straight away, preferring to let her captive exert himself a little longer as they regarded one another. She could see the options race through his mind behind the focus in the Japanese fighter’s eyes.

Sophia tried to anticipate him. When she felt him move, the Russian squeezed her legs tighter around his midsection. His hand pressed against her stomach in an attempt to keep them separated. Her hand reached up and grasped Senji’s left hand guarding close to his chest. Slowly but surely, he aimed to worm his way out. As her thighs surged around his ribcage, she opted to test which would give out first: her legs or his ribs?

Suddenly, a smack of flesh rang out from the arena. If Senji looked down, he would find a pair of knuckles against his abdomen and the leer of a dark-haired soldier not far beyond them. Sophia drew her hand back and threw another punch, beating his torso at the center while her legs crushed him from the outside.

It would do Sophia well to not believe everything she read, that was for sure. However, she might be on to something. Senji did not feel ignorantly proud of his past actions, whether it was beating up others to fund his 'crusade' or reaching the apex of his journey and succeeding. Did he think he was entirely wrong, however? Absolutely not. No matter what, but as iterated, that's not what mattered to him now. He was trying to heal from it, unlike her. A handful was spilled over his profile, while mounds upon mounds consumed hers. Senji had potentially damned himself, whether the supernatural existed or it was all speculation, but he did not let the vices consume him.

That was the way Senji would operate, no matter what the future held. It was, as far as the young man knew, the only way he'd preserve his sense of reason and not dig a further hole in his life. Despite this, a fighter was who he was. He didn't want to lose someone treasured that helped to complete him either.

At least, that's what Takijima had convinced himself of and so far it had worked out pretty well. Sophia was the latest wall...and for one of the few stretches in his short lifetime, Senji was having difficulty. She was not the transgressor, his father, his brother, nor his masters. From a comparative standpoint, she was....worse somehow. He hadn't any intentions of finding out what the CAUSE was.

Suddenly, a strength exploded around his midsection!

["Then again, she's strong enough for it to be effective...!"]

He was cut off from further thoughts by a fist burying itself into his abdomen, letting out another yelp that she could likely tell he tried to stuff down. Habitual behavior, then. This is where his conditioning also paid off, his core was arguably the most durable part of his musculature. Therefore meaning, body shots would not crush his chances. The initial strike's results managed to keep Sophia's advantage. After the second strike, Senji's eyes snapped towards it and endeavored to pull a fast one on Sophia. It was rather simple in concept. The free limb on the hand Sophia used to strike would promptly attempt to slip underneath her forearm and then rise up. Thus meaning, Senji was trying to beat her in speed before Sophia could retract for another hit.

If this was able to happen, Senji drove his arm to where it'd be between her arms and then push out to the right to redirect her outstretched arm towards the canvas and finally clasp said forearm with his right's fingers. A simple pin to the ground. Even with this, Senji needed to something about those legs that were trying to crush the ribcage; his core would only last so long....at least this redirection would give him time to decide....

Sophia wasn’t one to offer shows of emotion to just anyone. When she let herself loose and enjoyed the moment, it was deliberate. Intentional. Letting others see only what she allowed them to see. In her former line of work, failing to disguise one’s intentions only guaranteed death and an empty plot somewhere no one would visit.

So, in the spirit of sincerity, she had to admit that she had been starved for a good fight. Not a simple assignment, a body to beat into the ground, a toy to break like her last fray in this ring. She needed an honest fight with an equal. An experienced fighter that knew how to counter her advances and moved intending to put her down. Someone that would not let an opening like the one she had just created slip free.

Senji seemed like he was capable of giving that to her. Even with all her might, he was still struggling. So eager to make an impression. Perhaps, somewhere beneath that cool-headed exterior, there was a yearning not unlike her own. The Russian breathed heavily through the struggle to keep him contained, but that beating in her heart was good. It kept her alive, kept her moving.

She needed more men like Senji in her life. She sincerely hoped there were more men like him in Japan. For now, this one was hers.

She offered little resistance to his next rebuttal as Senji suddenly powered his way over her and pinned her only free arm to the canvas. All that was left for Sophia to use as she laid flat on her back was her legs around his waist. Two more limbs than she needed to break a man.

The Russian's quads bulged and surged with focused power, dedicating her energy and effort to breaking each rib in Senji's torso. A memento. From her to him. That she would be with him always.

That was all true. Senji did not know what feelings he was beginning to spur within the woman beneath him. Regardless, the young man had already buried the hatchet. And now, others were beginning to take notice of the trails to rip it asunder. Despite all that power, it was still too early for him to completely overcome Sophia. He knew this in general. Something he required. Refinement until the pinnacle of his age was reached. Then...he would truly be ready to evolve. All he needed.....was time.

Unfortunately, that was one of many possibilities to come later. Senji had to make do with his current capacities. To work within one's limits to overcome whatever stood in front and not falter. However, the notion of being a equal cut both ways. These legs were dreadful. They exerted a vile pressure on Senji's ribcage. More so than any guard he felt before. She was definitely a squeezer where arms and legs were concerned. White teeth slipped into view as his mouth ran open just slightly. He felt something shift as the skin was kneaded raw by the friction and strength. Then, a sluggish "synnch" came to fruition on his right side. Adrenaline, running at full throttle while his heart beat ever faster to deliver oxygen to the organs and the brain, numbed the pain of a hairline fracture. Still, Senji couldn't ignore this ache here. From a medical standpoint, it would take less than a month's worth to heal. So long as he didn't get struck there too often, the muscle there would serve its purpose as a barrier.

Her thighs hadn't completely broken his rib cage...yet.

He could still fight with this injury though.

A passion within him ignited. The capacity for violence he kept restrained even now. The limiter all humans possessed as with Hiroyuki, Vivienne, Jessie, or Sophia herself to name a few. When one was reduced to instinct, they would fall back on the level of their training or that foundation to survive. That was a level Senji was being steadily pushed to as of now. However, try as she might, Sophia would be hard pressed to get him to revert to the life-or-death mentality in this match. After all, one only needed to fight until the other submitted or was forced to drift off.

Senji, spurred by his depleting amount of energy, got back to his feet to make use of his supply. However, this process was steadily albeit slow. He kept the right foot on the canvas and a knee on the floor so that he could then push off to go towards lifting Sophia off the ground and to face level. Senji kept his right palm grasping her left wrist so he could have a point to lift her with if she was forced to cooperate. Natasha would then find herself being shaken as he shook vertically. A simple move to get her guard off of him and send Sophia onto her back if he was able to dislodge her. To obey the rules as well, Senji tried to keep ahold of her Gi with his entrapped arm on his left side and stop Sophia from slamming into the ground haphazardly.


The woman earned caution, not wrath.

All the while, Senji kept his lips curled in conflict due to pain and the active nature he always held until he no longer had the energy to struggle.

Sophia had conceded to surrendering this hold eventually.

She could tell the weaker prey from the stronger in an instant. The ones that would cling to life and struggle every step of the way, matching her step for step where others would have broken. She’d passed over more bodies than she could count. Every scar on her body was a testament to them and their meager triumphs against her. She had no doubt Senji would make his mark upon her indomitable constitution before the lights faded.

He was making a strong effort regardless. Sophia felt her teeth grit behind her pursed lips. Her steel legs constricted around him tighter and cost him a rib, but the Japanese boy kept coming. A nice sheen of sweat was starting to make itself known along the muscular ridges and contours of the Russian’s shapely quads. However, slowly and surely, the struggle would be too much to bear. Her body was made to kill, not restrain.

The ex-soldier felt her back leave the floor. Suddenly, she was raised upright and found herself face to face with her (objectively) dashing adversary. The instinct came to poke him in the eye; her military reflexes taking control. That may have explained the half-smile that crept on her face before she was faithfully slammed back down onto the unforgiving ring floor.

She should have been thrown down, at least. Until he…caught her? It certainly seemed that was Senji’s intention as he gripped her dougi in a manner that, if anything, eased her descent to the mat. The movement was subtle, but Sophia was certain it was no accident.

Well. Wasn’t he kind?

Sophia looked up with a soft, surprised expression. A momentary calm presided across her typically twisted countenance. The Russian chose to repay the red-haired gentleman’s courtesy by reaching up and throwing a backfist across his jaw.

Senji couldn't say this match was going in the direction of 'awful'. At the present, he'd presumably managed to get her legs off and put Sophia onto her back. He might as well keep this fight going until he couldn't manage. This took a turn however, when a fastball from one side struck him in the cheek. A very audible grunt came as he let go of her Gi by reflex. Though, Senji tried to fight through the pain of the impact.


His hands found her left shoulder for his right and went to rest his left hand on the right side of her ribcage, keeping his fingers wrapped around the cloth there. Senji's feet then pushed off the mat as he went to make a short hop over her legs with or without the grips he'd attempted. If it worked, then the action moved his body towards her right side rather than between her legs. A reference could be drawn from side control combined with a Scarf Hold, however he kept his body higher up and didn't have his arms wrapped around her head.

This was to set Senji up as he pushed his right knee into her side and cocked his left fist back. Then, the arm came soaring to strike Sophia in the face while he kept some control by keeping his right hand on her shoulder. The delay between the repeated punches were short, the jabs a practiced motion but not quite matching her earlier blood-drawing elbows. He wasn't trained in those style-wise after all. However, this would at least secure him damage until she tried to transition or they returned to standing. The latter option was where a plan would take place, as it was forming in his mind. Despite that, Senji was literally and metaphorically flexible. He wouldn't be infuriated about either not happening...

Whittling away Senji's endurance was going to require more than snide remarks and blood chokes. Sophia was forced to come to that conclusion rather suddenly and worryingly, realizing her efforts were yielding smaller and ever more minuscule returns. The outcome she was hoping for wasn’t making itself readily apparent. Despite the damage she’d done, her opponent hadn’t slowed his pace in the slightest compared to when they started.

The Japanese fighter dropped his weight upon her from the side. It was a familiar position commonly found in martial arts tournaments and Sambo circles where sergeants bullied their underlings into submission. It was less familiar for her to be on the opposite side of it. Altogether, it was an unwelcome experience.

A hammer fist to her face blew her concentration apart. A thin red trail leaked out from her nostril, running off the side of her cheek. The second cleared the fog from her eye, which she was thankful for, but the third was when her patience ran thin.

Sophia's arm reached up and blocked the next strike with her forearm, hiding behind her guard and seemingly on the defensive. That was until she bridged her midsection and bucked up from the floor, attempting to expose Senji's head for a brief instant. That was all the time she would need to throw up a knee strike into the side of his skull.

The Russian would then be able to slip free and roll out from underneath her grappling adversary. She'd come up on one knee, staring him down. "You are attempting to annoy me, yes?"

Sophia's playing of the chaotic record slowed to a halt, lucky for him. Now he'd found himself on top of Sophia, a position she no doubt depised and hated...perhaps because she wasn't the one responsible for putting a creak to his hips. Strike One. Strike two. Strike three. As fluid came from her nostril, it coated most of his left's knuckles in her blood. However, her strong buck managed to dislodge him upward. Just enough for his arms to loosen at a strike to the left side of his face near the eye on that side.

Her knee had hit him. Senji only figured it out after it happened, amid his now swimming thoughts, and she'd popped her head out to lift herself on a single knee behind himself. Naturally, Senji torqued his spine in the opposite direction while his body followed so back takes would be difficult to perform. His vision steadily became less hazy as he returned to a knee which mirrored her own position. Visceral blood creeped down from underneath his auburn eyebrow, beginning to cloud the vision on his left side. His left palm grazed his right side, flinching at feeling the single rib shift underneath his prodding. The match had been going for what...under seven minutes? Something like that.

The next question was hard of perception to him due to the blow to his head but carried that innate domineering tone. Therefore, it took him a few seconds longer to respond as Senji tried to get his tired body back up to its feet while exclaiming his response in a subdued yell.

"No!---I don't want to annoy you. Not sure if a woman's fury suits you."

Finishing his piece, Senji cupped his hands over his lifted knee and proceeded to push off it. To buy himself more time, Senji chose to wait until Sophia got up before forming his hands into fists once more. On the off chance she got put in the infirmary, he could apologize later. Senji kept a tight stance with both hands at an equal, close distance to his head before the left fist came for her jaw first in a hook motion as soon as she was back up. The speed of this was pulled if she could tell, and if Sophia were to take the bait as to catch his arm or block it, then Senji drove his right fist forward while yanking on the caught arm. Thus, she may have been pulled straight into a hard strike to the left temple followed by the final chaining of a crouched tackle, being attempted regardless of both moves being potentially nullified, - arms going to wrap around her body - targeting her stomach as opposed to those absolutely shredded legs!

[“Ma'am. You got some blood on your fatigues.”] Sophia looked over to her corporal. The stocky man was giving her another once over to confirm the thoughts he had just made public. She hadn’t slept for days. Her limbs were heavy and her bones weighed her down beneath the skin. Everything felt like shit. What anyone in her squad would have given right now to just crawl away into a casket and never have to wake up in this misery again. Even in that situation, he found time to joke. [“It suits you, Serzhant.”]

…

Boot camp wasn’t going very well for her. Russia preferred to start them all in the cold. The only thing that hadn’t frozen was the bog and the mile-long tunnel in the middle of it. Sophia had just managed to squeeze herself free and ran for the first hurdle that greeted her on the other end. She could nearly see the finish line before a stray tree root took out her ankle. She rolled it on the landing “You must love lying in the mud. Slopping up shit like a pig.” He cackled from the back of his cigarette-scarred throat. [“Suits you, rookie.”]

…

"Not sure if a woman's fury suits you.”

Sophia gnashed her teeth behind a shadowy glower. Nothing Senji had said seemed wrong on the surface. Charming, even, in the right company, with the right bottle of wine around a warming hearth. The Russian woman, however, simply leaned forward, clenching her fists. “You know nothing of my fury, boy.”

In an instant, Sophia rushed forward at her opponent. It took a single second for her to reach his face and throw an elbow at his face. It was merely a feint, however, as her opposite hand swung around to the back of his neck and aimed several left hooks at his youthful face at blinding speed.

Senji touched a nerve. Noted to avoid in future encounters. His plan wouldn't be set into motion as Sophia trudged towards him in a similar method to a freight train. He curled his elbow to brace for an volatile impact that didn't come. The offending strikes slammed into his face. One. Two. Three. Bloodied, rattled, and tired, his left hand came up to take the fourth. Her taped fist slammed against his palm, pushing it backwards along with its owner. The successive hits to the skull made him reel, pitching him three paces from the turnbuckle.

Keeping his left leg forward with the right kept back, Senji solidified his counterattack using only 3 jabs that cut through the air to reach Sophia. From bottom to top, the targets were to dig into her stomach, the body of the sternum, and her chin. Though, the accuracy was questionable at best given the short time and clouded vision.

Literally in a corner and his mind unequivocally shaken, he chose to employ one of the Aces in his hands.

Senji's legs switched positions, so that his left was kept backward while the right was moved higher up. He drove his reversed left hand up to her chin steadily, then suddenly driving the knuckles into their target as a series of muscle contractions followed suite. The attack targeted the bottom of her jaw.

"An 'unblockable' technique from nearly point-blank range.---And at point-blank range, the Dragon sinks its teeth in."

When and if it hit, the One-Inch Punch exploded against her face while seeking to potentially incapacitate her. Senji was aware of the unorthodox position he was in to have utilized it. He had a possessed a general idea of the risks, and he formed a fist to use it. A gamble with a high-stakes payoff if events played out to either fighter's favor.