Jumping in the Deep End

[BlackAkuma]

Keith was honestly so surprised that he even managed to pull that off. He’d seen it done often enough, but watching in movies and executing it in real life against a real person with very real leg that could cut you in half was another thing entirely. The motions seemed simple enough, though, and he was in a good position for it, so he figured he would give it a shot.

And it worked. Kind of.

He did send her up and over, but she held on as he did, ensuring that they were both going for a ride. The move was so sudden that his cameraman - who had been hanging with Keith long enough to get used to all sorts of wild stuff - was nearly taken off guard and almost found himself an unwilling participant in the match.

Keith came down on his back and immediately scrambled, not wanting to lose sight of Tris or her deadly legs for even a second. He whipped about, lunged, and tried to wrap his arms around one of her thighs, hoping that he could pull her in under him and lock down her greatest weapon all at once.

[Liesmith]

Being thrown, Tris had learnt, was always disorientating.

Didn’t matter if she was expecting it or not, there was still that moment of confusion as she went arse-over-teakettle, the world spinning around her before the inevitable spike of pain as her back met the mat.

Mats, she’d also learnt early, might cushion the fall but they’d never make it comfortable.

Fortunately, there wasn’t much of a drop here and Keith’s throw had been way heavier on enthusiasm than technique. Which would have irked Tris all the more if she wasn’t just grateful she’d got off so lightly – she knew how to take a fall safely.

That said – no more Miss Nice Tris.

The redhead had rolled herself to a crouch by the time Keith lunged, and she immediately moved to stuff his takedown – throwing her legs out of range and sprawling over Keith’s back so he’d be caught under her. Almost in the same movement, Tris spun around, aiming to move fluidly from the north-south position to a back mount.

From there, she’d try to sink a half-nelson or a choke. But the more immediate threat would be those curvy thighs slipping around Keith’s waist, her ankles going to lock tight…

[BlackAkuma]

Drip. Drip. Drip.

It was slight, so slight that Keith barely noticed it at first, but it had started to rain. Barely a drizzle, more like a light mist from the sky. He could see his team moving to cover up their equipment, though that wouldn’t be a problem for their camera, so long as their cameraman was smart with the lens.

At any rate, Keith had far, far more pressing concerns at the moment. Like, for instance, keeping his ribs intact.

The tumble hadn't gone according to plan, whatever craziness that plan was. Her legs were gone, and suddenly she was on top of him, then she spun above, mounted him, her arms were coming around his head…

He wasn’t sure what she was going for with the upper body, but it was small potatoes compared to the danger below. He panicked as he saw her ankles starting to lock and tried to get his hips free, hoping against hope that he might be able get them clear, but somehow he knew it was already too late.

Deep breaths. Lots of deep breaths. He was going under.