Eye Of The Storm

Akino:

Akino's mental health specialist mentioned something about how detrimental it is to take one's festered anger out on undeserving strangers. Sound advice for your average overworked civilian chained to an office table all day and subconsciously developing an itchy trigger finger...except for the fact that Akino's particular profession dictates otherwise. Bitterness was a viable resource when your arm was angled in unnatural ways and you needed to will yourself that one extra inch closer to the ropes. Rage was key to fostering a killer instinct that intensified your strikes and made you unsympathetic towards an adversary's cries for mercy. And Akino just so happened to be brimming with each considering the downward trajectory her win ratio has taken as of most recently. Losses beginning to rack up again, bills needing to be paid, and a reputation garnered as a savage submissionist perpetually on the cusp of besting superior fighters but invariably finds ways to lose.

"OkayOkayIsubmitIsubmit!!!...*cough*..." The hapless rookie giving it up in Akino's Last Breaths guillotine choke maneuver ended up following the lead of the cosplaying maid's two other sparring partners. Well, Akino wouldn't specifically designate them as "sparring partners". More like "whoever is left in the gym who's unaware of her ruthless nature." Both of them still massaging their shoulders and necks at ringside within Tension's backstage training facilities on this humdrum afternoon. Cardio training and weightlifting equipment on all sides along with several other wrestling rings either emptied or in use. The maid snarling through gnashed teeth from how unbelievably pathetic these new recruits were, and therefore how little she was advancing her own grappling game as a result. She rotated until the rookie's back was against the canvas and unlocked her submission...only to apply another one.

"Ya know. Sometimes yer gonna be matched up against someone who won't take I give up for an answer..." Akino bitterly uttered while shifting herself over to the rook's side and angling her arm through the crook of Akino's leg. Their wrist situated underneath her armpit in a shoulder sit position that was applying more strain to the anguished newcomer's arm with every second. "Someone who outclasses and makes you look like a pathetic nobody. Consider this an explicit lesson in how that feels unless you find a way to stop me.." Akino glared over her shoulder before proceeding to angle herself back and stack more weight onto the rookie's arm, whom by now would be languishing in agony and frenetically tapping out. The duo at ringside sickened at the sight of what was unfolding, but were frozen in place and unknowing if they should intervene or if this was some radical training method...

Timeframe: After his dealings with Vivienne Bouclier

Luck. Divine Intervention. There had to be some truth in it for Senji to find himself in these situations. Either that or, random occurrences within the possibilities of how science discovered the Universe's functions did so.

Senji had only arrived recently, his lips curled into a pursed expression. Still, these last few minutes were enough to want to make him spark up the embers of getting angry. Now, he wasn't going to jump in for just anyone grappling. Getting submitted was simply a part of the motions. However, this was clearly something deeper....more severe. As usual, he was without a top this time. This situation happened when he usually was training, and he noticed the commotion during it. It made him step in order to observe and he saw all he needed to see.

Now how should Senji react? Senji'd gathered two choices. He could mind his business or stop Akino from breaking something. The hard tone of her voice washed over his body and ran into his bones, figuratively. He picked the latter. Senji walked over and placed a hand on the turnbuckle. With effort, he pitched himself over it and found himself inside the ring --- landing with a dull "thud".

"That's enough, you're starting to scare me. That's not including the kid here. Let him go."

If Akino refused to see the writing on the wall, then he reiterated his command more directly. The last statement seemed to be released with a clear sign of...tired warning. There was a consistent schedule he stuck to, and it wasn't healthy for him to be doing. However, it did not matter. There were standards to uphold.

"Leave---the kid---alone. You are shaming us."

There was a chance here, clear as the blue sky. Being labeled for assault wasn't in his plans so that's why he didn't get physical just yet. Fortunately for the rookie getting his arm cranked as if it was aiming to touch the back of his head, Senji appeared to have his best interests in mind. Would this backfire on Takijima? That was for later, now it was time to do the right thing. He thumbed the bandaged knuckles on the right hand, glaring at the recovering body parts before returning his attention to Akino. May my flesh not fail on me.

Wherever Akino's embittered mind was, it absolutely was not concentrating on the moment currently unfolding. Not when she was on the cusp of dislocating the shoulder socket of a pitiable trainee flailing about in hysterical panic, but when she herself was rendered no less pathetically enfeebled by one superior competitor after another throughout her wretched time here. Fate apparently deeming her incapable of supplanting anyone from the mountaintop in spite of the voracious ambition she fosters to accomplish just that. Neither clemency nor mercy shown towards her from martial arts prodigy's and lascivious love goddess', so why should these newcomers be granted anything different? Projecting herself into the same position as her victim only strengthened her virulent animosity as she tightened down on the maneuver, as if she yearned to expunge the weakness that resides within her own consciousness. However, the one track mind she was riding upon ceased it's expedition when a warbled voice derailed her train of thought.

"..." Akino's diluted eye softening up as she directed her attention over her shoulder at the young man having leapt inside the ring. Several seconds passing before an abrupt release of the submission occurred. Akino arising upward to allow the rookie time to roll outside the ring, where the other trainees would assist in escorting her to the infirmary. Allowing the cycloptic submissionist to properly appraise the heroic gentleman and savior of pathetic rookies the world over. "No...they're the ones who bring shame upon us. A factory rollout of beauty pageant rejects thinking they can do what we do. And we haveta separate the wheat from the chaff. You're not doing them any favors by going soft on them. Trust me..." Akino somberly muttered before readjusting her sports bra to a jiggled bounce, afterward smoothing out the lining of her bottoms. Continuing to softly speak even when her eyesight is averted down to her task at hand. "Best get ready for me, by the way. Because you just volunteered to take her place, and I haven't even worked up a sweat yet, handsome."

Senji Takijima listened to the woman....taking in her viewpoint. Ah. She was one of those. Annnnnddddd...THERE IT WAS. He thanked everyone that influenced him thus far, because if they weren't there, a lesser variation of Senji might've socked her in the mouth. This is what he got for trying to keep some sort of decency? A lecture. A few more hellcats like her and his previous opponents, and he'd be able to take over the entire world.

"Assumption is a fallacy that'll claim you if you keep that up. Where they come from is something I don't need to nor want to know. You think I'll neuter them by not breaking their bones or dislocating their shoulders? They won't have a singular chance to grow if you break them beforehand.---"

He said as a rebuttal. His habitual movement kicked in at that, which made Senji bring a palm to his hair and comb his fingers through his light, amber locks. Then he dropped the arm to its side. Of course. In hindsight he should've guessed the huntress would target him next. Senji fingered his collar, bringing it out to let air inside his short-sleeved shirt. It hugged his muscles and curves, bearing a color similar to his hair. In regards to his lower half, it was a set of long-sleeved spats which led down to his bare ankles and such. Senji pinched the bridge of his nose, looking down and thinking. Akino called him handsome too and was probably not entirely there in the head (?). This would be the second woman with an eye patch he encountered here to meet that strange criteria. The recessive thoughts that lay in his mind wondered what might happen if he ripped the covering off her face.

Naturally, he valued his life since something told him not to stoop to that level so that was a non-profitable option. Senji took a very long breath in...and an equally lengthy breath out. He gauged his current abilities as compared to what he saw of hers. Upon that finishing, his thoughts finalized:

["As long as I don't run out of gas before she does, she won't annihilate me. I've not seen enough of her fighting style to make a better judgment though..."]

Finalizing his hypothetical scenario, he sought to begin their impromptu duel quickly. Akino was an exception. She would break him if he treated her as a fifth-rate fighter, just as she did to those rookies before Senji had enough. He couldn't afford an fractured limb, as that would leave him out of commission for weeks on end. That said, he would not withdraw his hand after getting this far. He brought his body forward, lurching it towards Akino. After that, he went low in order to catch her left leg. This would allow him to perform a short-distanced single leg takedown - if he managed to curl his arms around her thigh then push his shoulder into the front of her hip - and leave him neutrally leering over her, just as he did to Vivienne in their first match.

"You have a name?"

Akino would hesitate to say that Senji has impressive self-preservation instincts considering he's just now unknowingly switched places with a rookie who's currently being carted off on a stretcher to the infirmary. But opting not to target the eyepatch of a visually impaired submission tactician with a hair trigger temper whose grasp on reality could become tenuous at best...at least showcased potential on his behalf. The history behind her eyepatch was unfortunately a rather humdrum tale in her perspective. Whereas the theories and speculation concocted amongst locker-room sewing circles were far more enthralling than a mere birth defect. Sensitive though she is about the subject, Akino tends to become anything but whenever an adversary aims their offense at her eye. Eventually those within her underground fighting arenas refrained from targeting her deficiency after the last fighter who did this so ended up needing an eyepatch himself for the rest of his life.

*Geez, what a boyscout. This guy's gonna get eaten alive around here...* Akino's deadpanned expression to Senji's rebuttal said exactly what she was thinking after he'd made it abundantly clear that he was intent on sticking to his guns and was content to be bathed in the beacon of light on his moralistic high ground. She lamented how the cute ones are almost invariably the dim-witted ones as well and was convinced that the maker must always tie these traits together during the creation process. No wonder he couldn't stomach seeing that bubble-headed tart getting her arm bent out of shape. Akino beginning to perform arm stretches across her upper body, figuring that today is just her day for educating the absolutely clueless about the bitter realities of life and the perils of misplaced ambition. But just from an initial sizing up, Akino could tell that Senji was at least capable of withstanding and perhaps doling out enough of a thrashing to make this interesting...

"Yeah. I have a name. Show me a good enough time and I might just whisper it into your ear. Not that it matters since I'll have you calling me something completely different before we're though here~..." The twinkle in Akino's sole eye sparkled with a sinister gleam as she rested her hands on her knees while in a semi-squatting position before Senji decided to be the gentleman today and lead them off. The submissionist's hands at the ready and matching Senji's position in case he wanted to play the striking game, although his actual gameplan involved attempting to snatch Akino's left leg while ducked low. Akino snarling and making a split second decision to whip back her leg to foil those intentions with the cosplayer collapsing down herself to perform a waistlock on Senji from on top of him. A swelled softness against his upper back hopefully not distracting him from what would be an attempt at lifting her leg back and slamming her thigh against the crown of his head to get him nice and rattled.

...A boy scout who put someone in the ground and kept it contained to that one only. Granted, he had it coming and he had a high chance of getting done in, one day. Then again, Senji himself had a target of varying size on his back....and so far, it'd been a few years since he stuck to his ideals and dug in where he stood metaphorically then settled the score. In some form, he paid for it and he knew deep down that his past action might catch up with him someday. But that isn't what mattered now. He could give something to others, whether it was emotional or physically. As long as he did that, then...even if Senji was afraid as a base instinct....then he could feel better about it. That was his feelings on the matter so far....he hadn't much time to think about it in favor of avoiding injuries like the one he'd get to his head if he didn't move out of the way.

That also tied into his honor-bound way of fighting. As with any man, he could be broken and prodded...but it would take a great deal to do so. Senji was fairly sure he wasn't overly naive. He wasn't so blind as to not see writing on the wall or a fighter going for low blows. They would be worked around and overcome, just as any fighter would when they encountered an obstacle. Then Akino decided to grace his ears with some nonsense that sounded strangely familiar. Freaky ladies with eye patches....too common for comfort. Elsewhere, at her statement's conclusion, a long, ginger-haired man wearing a lengthy white coat found himself growing just a little irritated at a minor annoyance before going to clear his throat while sitting in his office...awaiting new patients. Back to the fight, considering that!

"We'll see..."

The implications of it caused him to delay a long response in favor of the first move. She caught the tell of a grappler going for the legs! Senji felt her top weighing down his body, indicating a sprawl. He could deal with this. She'd probably go for his back or keep herself running in the reverse direction. The tip of his vision caught the incoming knee, noting that she was faster than him by a noticable margin. That meant he couldn't brace for it with an arm. Instead, Akino would probably feel Senji's head shift to the right as her knee presumably dug into the space between his neck and his left shoulder --- near the collarbone "protected" by muscle and skin. The vehement impact draws a suppressed moan of pain out of him. Based on the distance, Senji wouldn't suffer from too much of a deep cave in however it did cause a great amount of pain.

["Shame she's not the nicest mental---ly!"], Senji mused to himself in hushed exclamation.

Despite Senji's mitigation, the ginger had to compensate for two fronts again. He pushed his left arm to intercept any repeats but kept the right elbow supporting his upper body so that Akino would have a harder time pushing him down. The waist lock was troublesome but he was hoping for her to take his back, since he had the choice between two evils. That would then boil down to pure defense as opposed to the balance Takijima made here.

Thankfully, Akino's skills at debilitating adversary's and torquing their limbs into unnatural positions far surpasses would could be interpreted as a subpar judge of character. A narrowed envisioning of the world around her being ironically appropriate for her considering her ocular disability. Carried over to her surface level interpretation of Senji given his knightly actions when it came to saving the damsel in distress. Having known the look of ruthless sadists who've committed brutal atrocities for some time...Akino would still never have fathomed at the ethereal specters and woeful wraiths roaming within this do-gooder's closet. Perhaps a testament to how well the young man shields his scars, whereas Akino instead showcases her scars for all to witness. Physical and psychological. Right along with the visceral anguish stemming from her own past which has crafted the maid into the woman she is today. The same one casually wondering how many strikes to the face it would take for Senji's nose to become a crimson geyser...

A quandary that may have been the reasoning for the submissionist's method of offense after narrowly securing a waistlock on the nimble boy scout. Akino balking at how adept Senji was at so fearlessly taking the initiative with an attempted takedown directed at her lovely legs. She recognized the early motions of this downward tackle because typically it's a strategy Akino herself adapts considering that getting opponent's off their feet makes up for her diminutive size disadvantage. Appreciating the fact she caught him in the first hold of the match, the otaku maid weighed him down as best she could, especially her lower half until her svelte thighs were practically guiding his forehead to almost meet the canvas. Akino intending to blind him to the leg strikes he aggravatingly blocked anyway. Akino sucking her teeth from pummeling shoulder muscle instead of the crown of his head, directing another bitter pummel to his guarding arm more out of spite than any actual ongoing strategy.

She huffed out softly against his back muscles but remained sedentary, eventually extending her legs backward in order to further the oppressive positioning burdening him from above. However eventually she would abandon the sprawl and with catlike agility shimmy herself around into a standard mount from behind him. Albeit with an accompanying rear naked choke applied that upped the threat level immensely, Senji's neck securely slotted into the crook of her arm with the hand from her other arm situated on the back of his head. "Ohhhhh, I'm not still scaring, you am I? Mmm, I know we got off on the wrong foot handsome, but the truth is...that guys like you can get me hotter than the Sahara. Ever get a girl's panties wet in the middle of a match?~..." Akino's dulcet words being lovingly whispered into his ear, melodic tones in direct contrast to the perverse meaning behind her obscene question as they shared in mutual body heat from not an inch spared between them.

Luckily for the protagonist of our story, the dull thud of knees against flesh gave him the visual and physical stimulus to see that Akino wasn't going to be giving him a bloody nose. Far quicker than Senji himself on an average day, Senji found her taking his back. A basic outline had been constructed. Unfortunately for him, this was the first time someone whispered perverted sweet nothings into his ear while trying to constrict his neck. As she shifted, Senji found her getting her hooks in. Well, either that or crossing her feet. Maybe even the rare body triangle he'd been seeing lately in segments. The second option was much easier to counter. The breath of his aggressor ticked his ear. As he was intent on not being a freshly pressed mat for Akino to waltz over like a superstar model, the maiden would find him tucking his chin as a defense. This would put his front jaw in the way of the crook of her elbow so she couldn't put him in a DEEP RNC. Not yet, anyway.


Then the actual meat of her enlightening statements presented themselves to him. Steadily, as the seconds ticked on by, that had him warmed up, flustered like a damned schoolgirl. It wasn't as though his walls had crumbled. This WAS the first time a woman had been so forward with him. It is to be said that Akino couldn't really get a response soon since he was busy defending the choke in between his other mental baggage involving a particularly repulsive summer vacation to the expanse of Russia and the occasional existential question. Much like with Sophia, he was conflicted about Akino from first impressions. He didn't really wish to put another hole in their pretty heads either way though. The world of legitimate wrestling was so STRANGE to his mind of 19-and-a-half years. Sure, the low level of matches he'd been subscribed towards in the past and future were fairly cut and dry, but it wasn't hard to see that there were fairly different stipulations that Senji tried his best to stay away from. Granted, under the promotion of temporary managers, Hiroyuki and himself were mostly on a matchup game of chance that could be predicted at best.

Concerning Senji's response, it came out quieter than he intended due to his jaw interjecting in a chokehold attempt.... hopefully. His eyes had widened, once more, to the equivalent of golden dinner plates. Considering how Akino here was probably eyeing him like a tall glass of cold water in the middle of said Sahara, it was not unwarranted. Seemed like life itself was making him catch up to what he'd missed during his younger years.

"W-what!?---No, I don't believe so."

Senji stayed in a kneeled position, deciding it'd not be beneficial to flatten himself out since Akino already had waist or leg control. That said, Senji chose to lean towards the left to put the two on their mutual sides. It'd be better for an eventual turnaround escape if circumstances permitted that. Judging by the pressure she'd be applying regardless, Senji knew they were going to sink hard into his neck's side should he not be able to defend it whilst having a disheartening conversation.

Consider this sparring bout as Akino's due diligence as an acclaimed veteran amongst AFW's ranks testing the mettle of the next generation. Well, a veteran anyway. Struggle and squirm though she might, championship title belts never once adorned Akino's petite waist no matter how many limbs she hyperextended and chump rookies she throttled into submission. Than again, maybe her savage inclination served as more of a deterrent rather than proponent whenever the head honchos started roaming through roster pages looking for worthwhile challengers. Whatever. Regardless, the closest she ever came being a Number One Contendership for a title belt that's now officially deader than disco lights. Reminiscing like this was never a particularly delightful pastime for Akino anyway considering her AFW past was rife with shattered dreams, broken hearts, and psychological seclusion. A swirling cocktail of misfortune that doesn't go down easily but is nevertheless repeatedly served right back to the mentally damaged otaku maiden.

Perhaps Senji himself could infer all on his own that the cycloptic sadist currently choking him with maniac glee might have actually had just a somewhat troubled past. Just a little. Akino admiring the young lion's resolve for what it was. A determined fire burning within him that wasn't going to make this an effortless nap or tap, it seemed. She noticed the breadth of his grappling expertise when it came to stoically concentrating on the moment and never forfeiting rationality into panic. Noticing how his nubile musculature was rebelling and fighting back against the suffocating backpack whispering indecent lullabies into his ear...with crimson blushing results, it seems. Akino smirking deviously from perhaps discovering the substantial chink in this young lion's armor, even while the duo toppled to the side after being mainly upright for the duration of the rear naked choke. A hold that remained intact but never truthfully became stifling thanks to Senji's chin nudged down, but now with the grappling pairing all snuggled up like spooning lovers underneath the bedsheets.

"Whoooa, you don't say? Hard to believe for a heartthrob like you. This ain't your first time satisfyin' a girl, is it? Gotta offer you props than, cause my engines fuckin' runnin', boyscout~..." Akino sultry words having significantly more meaning behind them if Senji noticed the grinding dry humps against his lower back, indecent shivers trailing up the maid's spine as she hummed against his ear and breathed in his humid musk. Thoroughly basking in the heat of the moment in sauna styled affection, but abruptly abandoning the position for another. Senji remaining on his side but with his right arm extended upward and clasped onto by Akino. Now straddling him with his head situated against the crook of her leg, facials smushed against the side of her creamy thigh. "Phew...Tell ya what big boy. Admit that I turn you the fuck on, and I'll make sure this spar has a happy ending for both of us~...Don't...And well, maybe you can cozy up to one of those girls I just sent to the infirmary instead." Akino threatened with a snide grin, an armbar ready to be applied if Senji gives the wrong answer.

Well, unlike a fellow fighter lacking depth perception, Akino was far from subtle in regards to what she wanted. A cockamamie idiot she wasn't though. At least, not on the mat. Some of the people were so vulgar though, including Akino here. The metaphor for her attraction was far from lost on him. The writing on the wall was clear that she'd be shifting into 3rd gear too. That ever-present question remained of would he play along, however? Senji considered her question with their positions having been changed. Akino was giving him time too as she could likely feel his upper chest going up and down methodically. His left arm was half-raised into the air, serving as a indication towards his tense disposition. His eyes darted towards the thigh settled by his head for a moment... pressing the hair on that side closer to his head.

If she looked back, she'd be greeted with what she wished for starting to rise to full attention, restrained by his pants and protective wear underneath. His legs had already snapped into a bent position too. If this arousal happened before, Senji just ignored it as to avoid it becoming an issue. The main cause was the vixen grinding against his back like a damned rabbit in heat. However, she wanted a dance and that's what he could give her if he could help it. Going down too easily would probably only upset her. Regarding his words, once more, Senji needed to pick with care. The auburn eyebrows furrowed in mild thought....

"You wouldn't stop this either way."

Senji concluded with a nervous nod up at her - perhaps meaning a cautious attitude towards Akino. His tone sounded airy and confident, not crumbling at a simple touch but conveying a overall lack of experience. Senji could only think that he was right on his read of her. He really tried to be a good person but people, in a martial way, like her really struck his nerves, among other types, if he had the energy to stop the unruly oppression. Senji had a plan if she wanted to go through with the Armbar. His initial action involved a momentum-driven plan. If she went to her left to commit to the Armbar, then he'd do the following in a gambit to counter it!

When she leaned off to the side, Senji shifted off to the right and pulled his legs to hike straight up. Then, to perform a psuedo-nip up off to his right, he drove his legs down as she would've completed the motions for the Armbar. That retainment followed the same principle as say, going along with a tackle to then reverse the positions by continuing the resulting roll. This gave him the push needed to go onto his knees and only leave Akino's upper body on the ground. He could be mean by dropping her onto her neck but he wasn't explicitly aiming to crush her. She didn't deserve that yet. After this, the final action consisted of Senji's blush ridden yet stern face glaring down at Akino while his left hand came reaching past her supple, creamy right leg to get to the arm clasped by her taunt muscles. The intention was to try to pull the entrapped arm back to the correct way or tempt her into doing something else. Armbars were difficult but not impossible to deal with if not locked in fully. That Rear Naked Choke would've been curtains if only she didn't lose out on it.