An Allie Cat vs A Golden Snake! -- Strong Style Showdown (Alix Jacques vs Airi Higa)

[DSX93]

Bullseye!

Alix was on the move as soon as she hit the mat, though her neck slowed her down a little. But she was still able to do what she intended: Track Airi's movements, and be in a position to move when she showed weakness. Airi had done a good job of acting like a knee to the face was just an annoyance -- that's what showed in her face -- but the rest of her told the truth. There weren't a lot of people on this earth who could eat a blow like that and keep on trucking. Alix herself was not among them.

So when her opponent fell onto one knee, she knew it was time to strike. The adrenaline kicked in, deadening the pain to such an extent that her body was able to focus solely on what needed to be done: Putting this woman down. She pushed herself off the mat, onto her feet, and sped towards her objective, taking off into a spinning leap with her foot rocketing towards Airi's jaw. This move was what Reine Roquefeuil, the woman who taught it to her, called the

[Eir]

Airi never saw the damn thing coming. She was still half-shaking it off, still playing tough even though her temple throbbed and her mouth tasted like copper and irony. One knee down, one hand braced on the mat, she kept that bratty smirk on. But her eyes were glassy, blinking slow. Her body was already betraying her long before Alix ever left the ground.

And then, crack.

The heel caught her flush across the jaw. Her head snapped to the side violently, hair whipping with the force of it. Her body went stiff for a beat, like someone hit pause. Then all the air left her at once. She crumpled onto her side, limbs tangled, mouth slack and eyes wide open. Blank.

No twitch. No groan. Just silence, except for the low hum of the crowd rising in disbelief. One second, she was Airi Higa, the brat who believed she belonged at the top. The next, she was a motionless heap at Alix’s feet, knocked out cold by a kick she never had a chance to dodge. Face down in her own arrogance.

[DSX93]

"OHHHH!!!"

The capacity crowd of several thousands all came together for one collective wince as the thunderous blow struck flush, dropping Airi like a ton of bricks. Alix herself had her hands raised to her own mouth after seeing how deathly still the woman was. Eyes open, unblinking, her expression frozen in time, with only the slow rise and fall of her chest telling that she was still among the living. A small comfort to the goth, who knew that there was still a myriad of issues left that she could've caused; her heart was still well into her stomach.

This was exactly why she didn't want to participate in the standard fare, initially. It was one thing to be watching the knockouts and the injuries, something she could accept as part and parcel of the business as a viewer. But it was quite another to be doing that kind of damage. Delivering those hard hits.

But it wasn't really up to her anymore. She was an instructor now. An example needed to be set, so she'd have to suck it up.

The referee's arms came up to form an X symbol, and the medical team on standby immediately entered the ring. A few moments later, Alix's arm was raised and her

"Ladies and gentlemen, your winner: Aliiiiix Jacques!"

Normally a cause for celebration. But not this time. She exited the ring, not wanting to get in the way of the important work at hand. She'd gone to college to learn how to patch up the mind, not the body.

Simply creating space that could be better occupied by someone with the proper training was all she could do out there, but she'd wait nearby backstage, where she knew that somebody would passing through eventually. Whether it was the team bringing Airi through, or Airi coming through on her own, the least she could do there was check in. Either way, she'd wait as long as it took.

Winner by Knockout: Alix Jacques