Dasher Challenge : Part 2 - Like Fine Wine

[killcarrion]

Weathering his own encroaching fatigue was becoming just as much of a concern for Dasher as Angela's strength fueled assertions that she remained just as much of a powerhouse today as in their halcyon days. Audience members awe-stricken by the gladiatrix suplexing the heavyweight with flawless alacrity and performing a physical feat few fighters had accomplished throughout any of these name branded challenges of his. The physical toil exacerbated upon Dasher moreso given the thin padding on the outskirts of the ring yet nevertheless persevering through the paralyzing back pain with the stubborn yet determined goal of at least rising back to some semblance of verticality. Except a huffed breath was taken from Angela's cinched in chokehold once the grappler was on one knee, Dasher's arm extended skyward as he scrunched his strained facials and overhearing Angela's teasing apology. "...*pant*...I remember...which means you may remember one of my favorite tricks...Playing Possum." Dasher summoning the last vestiges of strength he possessed and ascended with both of his meaty mitts clamped onto Angela, shoving her forward until upside down with her midsection situated onto Dasher's shoulder. Both of his arms hugging her tight as he attempted a roaring stampede and powerslam through the barricade into the timekeeper's area...

[BlackAkuma]

When people looked at Dasher, they often saw an inflexible and implacable man, made of stone and just about as pleasant to talk to. They saw his gruffness, his rigid ways, and judged him to be a humorless bore, to set in his way to ever change or adapt, married to the rules of wrestling, devoted to traditionalism.

They wouldn’t be wrong. But they wouldn’t be wholly right, either.

The Dasher Inoba that Angela remembered was a student of the old school, but that did not mean he was beyond learning, that he couldn't mix things up when the occasion demanded it. If anything, his rigidity made such creative bursts all the more surprising, like hearing a proud hawk suddenly quack like a duck.

It certainly worked on Angela. She had been hunkering down, preparing for her next move, when Dasher made the decision for her. He clasped her tight, rushed forward, and drove her weary back against the barricade, hitting with enough force to make the divider shift a few inches and send the nearby audience reeling in shock. Angela herself opened her lips for a breathless cry, only to sag forward over her foe’s body as he sucked in air, desperate to refill her lungs so she could actually do anything else.

[killcarrion]

Whenever interviewed by fellow colleagues who once shared a locker-room with Dasher, each individual would inevitably comment about how his stringent obedience towards wrestling tradition was often regarded as immutable and unyielding as the rules of gravity. Undoubtedly factual though this may have been, Dasher begrudgingly acknowledged that sometimes a keen eye for ingenuity can overcome a grappler who's committed to memory scores of wrestling tactics. A deviation into the unexpected seemed appropriate this time around considering that Angela in all likelihood knew every tactic within Dasher's own wrestling playbook. Therefore, Dasher opted to disregard any notion of tactical interplay and stamped the metaphorical pedal to the medal, mustering whatever strength he'd been reserving into a barricade smashing counterstrike that practically brought the barrier to the cusp of collapsing and sent frightened onlookers scrambling backward. "...*pant*...You never can make this easy, can you?...Hgh..." Dasher remarked with an exhausted strain of his vocals as he ascended with Angela still slung over his shoulder, a staggered walk taken back to ringside where he gingerly tucked and rolled his former colleague back inside the ring. Dasher following afterward and compressing his sweat swathed physique atop her in a heated pin attempt with one of her robust legs hooked into the air.

"One!"

[BlackAkuma]

”What can I say?” Angela managed a breathless laugh through the groans. ”I’m a complicated woman.”

Despite her joking, she really was in quite a bit of pain at the moment, feeling as if Dasher had never bisected her on the barricade. That move wouldn’t have been pleasant with anyone, but against him, it felt like taking a stiff chair shot, right on the spine. Her back was already aching from earlier abuses, and that just brought all the pain back with interest.

It turned her to putty for the time being, and she didn’t put up any struggle as Dasher brought her over those mighty, meaty shoulders of his and marched her back to the ring like an unruly child. She rolled in under the bottom rope, then rolled again to make a little extra space, coming down on her back to stare at the ceiling.

Dasher was on her a moment later, cradling her, pulling her in tight, and securing the pinfall. An expertly applied one, too, using his leverage and bulk to good effect. A smaller woman would've been done for.

"2...!"

Fortunately, Angela hadn't been 'small' since she was about ten years old. She kicked out hard, pushing him away with the burst, then made an attempt at rising. Up. Up, up, up. She gritted her teeth and tried to sit up, but it was slow going, even by her usual standards. Still, she had to at least try. Inaction against Dasher Inoba simply was not an option.