POW Match - Evelyn Fallanger vs Blaise Cameron

[Monsy]

Worth the attempt to see how much leeway she possessed.
It appeared they’re adamant about winning, just as she is. Though, this made it worrisome, per words couldn’t manipulate. In another lense, it was endearing; a fire so genuine, a pure spirit like her own. No innate malice either, such as a previous match; she relished that at least.

Still, the question of victory didn’t falter. Evelyn was sure of it. She wanted it so, to which she struck like a viper, punishing his chest then subjugating him with one of her signature moves. The speed of its execution proved Evelyn practiced this, the force, focused and decisive. If anyone needed proof, look no further than Blaise, who struck the mat before her, making her step back and stand above his head.

“Little problem there, Blaisey-boy. I am in control now!”

One hand covered her mouth, giggling with brandished teeth. Once her amusement concluded, she extended that hand towards the left, eyeing the crowd with a pointed finger gun.

“Bang.”

She took off, aiming for the ropes where she’d rebound, doubling momentum as she leaped over his frame. Her hands latched onto the top rope, her feet hopped and shoved into the middle, sending her aerial. Both arms stretched above her head, back arched, her knees brought in as they flipped through the air. A complete backwards flip, with her raised feet, pointed straight down. Though they weren’t locked on the canvas - but Blaise’s back. They’d thrust together, aiming to smash into his spine with almighty force. The momentum launched sent her body keeling back, forcing her to backroll no matter the result and assume a single-knee position just a few feet away.

[CyanDimitrik]

Under normal circumstances, Blaise might have a comeback to that! And in his genuine nature, probably something playful and complimentary; despite the new attitude he's brought back to the ring with his re-debut. Unfortunately, he isn't in much of a talking mood at the moment. His face hurts. His jaw hurts. His head is spinning. And a part of him just knows she's styling on him. What a jerk!

Okay, not a jerk. That's part of the fun, isn't it? The showmanship? Savoring the moments? Plus, she has to look cool doing it. He can just imagine. Her tall, slender body, poised, maybe waving at the audience...

The brief jostling of the ring under him brings him to realize he has no idea what exactly she's doing. It's all a dull roar of static cheer from the audience and mild reverberations on the mat. And a Tremors monster-worm, he ain't. He can estimate where she is, but only after she's had long enough to change it up again, and forget predicting movement in this state. He's doing well just to lift his head and give it a shake to clear the haze.

Incidentally, as soon as he does that a pair of boots are blasting into his back. This earns a sharp, pained yelp from the young man, body arching inwards, eyes widened. The pain explodes outwards through his nervous system on impact, causing him to roll and writhe, automatically scrambling for some somatic form of relief. He winds up on his back, arching inwards, pushing sleek abdominals and toned pectorals towards the skylights for several seconds before collapsing and kicking the heels of his boots against the mat in suffering.

[Monsy]

Right now, she felt revitalized.
After the embarrassment of the pinfall, Evelyn set upon a vengeance! One with showmanship and a subsequent flashy move! One of her newfound favourites, garnering all the aspects she loved to perform and punish.
Though Blaise didn't merit any malice or grudge, she didn’t hold the throttle with her legs. Like anyone else, she gave that thrust all she had. Anything less is an insult.

She rolled back onto a single knee, flipping her hair back and darting her eyes. A toothy grin sat upon her features, unfurling a heavy breath which she held since her leap. Her tongue clicked, seeing Blaise’s strife as she stood. Now, she strode over and stood at his kicking feet. After looking smug, Miss Fallacy scooped one leg after the other into her clutches and postured them against her hips.

To which, she offered a wink. Although, this merely masked her sympathy beyond the showmanship veil.

“Still with me, Blaise? Don’t worry, I have an ice pack waiting in my freezer, and it has your name on it!”

Too cheesy? Mean? Ech… Maybe a little.

Not like it matters! Her engrossment dwindled her self-control, the desire to make an excellent showing swelling with this newfound momentum. Even if this match is won by pinfall, she had another idea in mind; something to see what he's really made of! So, with his legs elevated, she attempted to step over and turn him flat against his tummy. An upcoming Boston crab, vile and wrenching to escape, saught to sap the strength for a more appropriate finish. The climax! But not now. Here, he shall bear her weight on his back, forcing that freshly wounded spine to bend on Miss Fallacy’s whims!

[CyanDimitrik]

Blaise certainly looked like he took the full brunt of the attack. With back on fire and body twinging in pain every time he tries to twist over, he definitely needs a moment to recover. And though Evelyn is arguably giving him a "moment" as she lifts his legs to either side of her hips, it really isn't enough of a moment to gather the back-strength needed to kick her away.

With gritted teeth, he looks up at her. "Nnh.." It's all he can manage to seethe out just yet, even though he's sure he knows what's coming.

Some things have been retained from his less-than-glory days, before he vanished for some badly needed focused training. One thing is the encyclopedic knowledge of professional wrestling maneuvers and holds; this is why he's fairly positive he knows what direction this is going. The other thing is an absurd amount of endurance. It may be somewhat lessened than what it had been, but its power is on full display the moment she turns him over.

He's not immediately trying to tap out, after all.

"AAAAGH!"

This does not mean he's quiet or chill about it.

Blaise scrambles his arms against the mat as her weight settles in, arching him backwards and causing the pain in his back to inflame. His hands periodically find the top of his head, eyes squeezing shut in agony, sleek body arched quite nicely for the cameras and hips pointed upwards at Miss Fallanger, but otherwise seeming helpless to do anything but take it. The can likely feel the tension through the muscle of his legs as she holds on, the youth writhing beneath her. He begins reaching for the ropes, albeit blindly, hoping to hook fingers over something he isn't even sure the distance of.

[Monsy]

What was this feeling? Dominance? Oh, it felt so odd, good too; to hold; punish and make them hel- AH! She shouldn’t think of that. No, no. This is purely what’s necessary. Nothing more, nothing less than what victory meant - the essence of submission. And so, while Blaise agonized on the ground, she slipped back one foot, seeking to stabilize further whilst her fists locked upon her sides, creating the noose that ensured his ankles before wrenching back yet again. This time even her back arched. The pair formed a crescent, her gaze locked upon the lights as the agonizing melody punched the air.

“If you tap out….” She said, pausing as her eyes scrunched with another wrench, “I’ll give your back a massage.”

A little longer, she hoped, then victory is hers. How much longer could he hold? Yet, holding out proved disastrously.

“BREAK.” She heard that shout and went pale. Her heart skipping its next beat as she looked back and gaped. “Eh?! Aw...” 

The hold unravelled, causing a tumble onto her back. She rolled around and found her knees next to him, using the moment to reclaim any lost wind before standing once again. 

“Good job!” She cheered, sticking out another finger gun.

Though her hold was broken, the initiative lied within her court; instead, she didn’t act - but waited for Blaise to find his feet once again.