Nathalie Christiaens vs. Theodore 'Theo' Logan - The Devil In Blue

[BlackAkuma]

People oftentimes asked Theo why he and Willy were friends. Depending on his mood at the time and their reason for asking, he could give many answers, with the most common being ‘our Moms made us play together’.

The truth was a wee bit more complicated than that. As hard as it could be to tell sometimes, Willy was a good guy. Gullible, sure, and he thought with his dick way more than he should. But when Theo needed him - really, really, really needed him - he was always on the ball. The guy was like an ox in so many ways: strong as fuck, good for grunt work, but with a tendency to stink up the place.

This, though, was not one of his worst days. A genuine, tangible part of Theo wanted to give his friend a good slap upside the head, but he kept it under control for now: He had bigger problems. Namely, he needed to deal with the Belgian who’d been beating him silly with her ass for the past minute or so.

Nathalie wasn’t giving him any leeway, as she came charging in again before he could get away from the ropes. He thought she’d take him head-on again, but instead, she used the ropes and caught him in the back with a wild variation of the tiger feint kick, one that struck him in the spine and sent him stumbling. Good execution, there. He hadn't the first clue who’d taught Nathalee how to wrestle, but they’d given her a good set of moves.

He could be impressed later; for now, Theo had to deal with it. Going in hard hadn't worked too well for him, but he didn’t like the idea of hanging back and letting her get comfortable, either. Not with those legs, not with those kicks. Dangerous as it was, he needed to bring the fight to her. Needed to be aggressive, but not stupid.

Theo stumbled back a few feet from her strike, then charged her way again, hoping to catch her before she could chase after him. He went low, almost crouching as he closed the distance, only to leap up at the last second and launch towards her head while her leg shot upwards, attempting to take her off guard with a rising knee, aiming the point of the bone for her face.

[Winter]

Nat gathered that he had not seen that one coming.

Her attitude had ensured that half a dozen different coaches had instilled bits and pieces of their movesets and experiences in her before finding her too much trouble and sending her along to the next coach. Her talent ensured that she never lacked someone willing to train her and claim her as “their protegee,” but with by learning from each coach until she rubbed the wrong way, she had absorbed several different fighting styles. All of them combined with her street fighting background - a talent born of necessity given her way of life - to make her unpredictable, adaptable, and capable of catching the Theos of the world off-guard with her varied moves.

At the risk of gloating too much, the raven-haired Belgian leaned on the ropes to present the sweat-slick of her chest, abs, and thighs. Her antics continued to win favor with the previously lukewarm crowd, and she believed that had as much value as a win. Fandom meant prestige and money, and Nat loved the idea of considerably more of both. But she did not overstay her welcome - after a moment’s posing, when she saw that Theo had managed to keep his feet, she propelled forward, ready to drive him to the mat with yet another flash of her superior athleticism. And here she had thought he could keep up with her - what a shame.

Almost as soon as the thought crossed her mind, paired with her next plan - to hammer him in the back of the neck with a descending heel - he cast her declaration of his shame out and into the sands by turning on her. The Sapphire Stunner’s momentum made a change-of-direction almost impossible, but she unwisely attempted to adjust, anyway, and only ended up teetering on the side of one foot before she could spin away like a footballer trying to break free of her defender.

In a sense, she did dodge what he had planned for her, albeit by making it worse - she stretched her lean body out so far that the knee caught her between the chin and the middle of her neck, and she choked on the damage to her throat before the hit spun her to the ground on her stomach, rasping and gasping. Fucking… shit.

[BlackAkuma]

Well-rounded.

Those were the two words that Theo kept coming back to when he thought about Nathalie’s style. Most of the women he’d encountered in LAW were quick on their feet, nimble and agile, dancing around the ring. A small few were powerhouses that could hang with Willy. Some of them had strong legs or were skilled with submissions.

Nathalie was the first one who didn’t seem to have any real leaning one way or another, but was just good all over. Strikes, grappling, even the tricky luchador stuff. She was playing mind games, but he got the impression that it was less out of necessity and more out of entertainment. She was more than good enough to hold her own, straight up.

All the more reason to bring the fight to her, cut her off before she could get her momentum going again. In this he was successful, even more than he’d expected, as he managed to land the knee while she was attempting an attack of her own, catching her in the throat. A nasty, lucky hit, and one he’d gladly take.

It was enough to bring her down, flat on her back, and Theo hurriedly moved in to capitalize, not wanting to waste a single second. He grabbed her leg, tucked it between his thighs, fell on her back and reached around her head to grasp her chin, attempting to pull Nathalie back with an STF, a move that would neutralize one of her legs while putting extreme pressure on her lower back. The perfect way to wear her down.

The ropes were a good distance away - not impossible for her to reach with some effort, but she would have a hell of a time if he could lock it in. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't looking forward to seeing her try.