To the Limit: Tiki Lowell vs Karla Ray Reinhardt

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After Tiki had been knocked back by Karla's knee, the redhead ran on her and grabbed the arm that she had blocked with. Karla started trying to twist Tiki's arm behind her back into a hammerlock, but Tiki wasn't going to let her. She would turn her body along with Karla to keep her arm from getting twisted and to stop Karla from getting behind her.

The only problem was that Karla was prepared for that. When Tiki turned to face Karla, she was met with two black boots that sent her flying down to the canvas on her back. "Agh!" Tiki grunted as her head snapped back from the kick. She rubbed her jaw on the floor for just a moment before getting back up, not wanting to let Karla come after her while she was down.

[Monsy]

The dropkick cracked off its target, and Karla landed on her side. She’d roll onto her stomach and push up, brought forward a knee, then her second and leaped to both feet. It seemed that Tiki needed only a moment to recuperate and regain her posture, but for Karla, she needed none. Perhaps this one-second window could help her petal this into momentum, so she took off and blitzed her opponent, stomping across the ring. It took two lunges to close distance, where Karla would leap, extend her arm and try to catch the tall woman across the collar with a lariat. “HAH!”

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Though Tiki was quick in getting up, Karla was even quicker in relentlessly pursuing her attack. When the greenette got to her feet, Karla was already coming at her from the skies, arm outstretched and aimed square at the top of her chest. Tiki once again only had time to get an arm up to block, and the force of the attack was able to knock her back down to the ground.

Karla's offensive was bearing down on Tiki. The redhead had already gotten one good hit off on her, and though Tiki had been caught with anything truly disastrous yet, she had to do something to stop Karla before she did. Once she got knocked down, Tiki would try to kill Karla's momentum by snapping her legs around one of the German's legs and pull her down to the mat. If successful, Tiki would then use the opportunity to get to her feet without having to worry about more pressure from Karla.

[Monsy]

The lariat unscrewed her larger opponent, sending them for seconds of the canvas. Karla stomped both feet, then a foreign limb came around, and her right foot flung up. She landed bottom first, teeth clenched, miffed, but always the opportunist. That limb Tiki used to trip was grabbed, and Karla slumped forward to throw her bicep over the ankle and tuck it into her armpit. Her other leg tried to hook behind their knee, pulling to bring them down. If she succeeded, then the blade of the forearm squeezed on the Achilles tendon, pushing it into the ankle. Her arm coiled up, and her other hand latched onto the wrist, positioned just beneath the breast.

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Tiki managed to trip up Karla and knock her down to the mat. But the greenette's rise back up to her feet was not as smooth as she would have though. Absolutely refusing to let her offensive go, Karla grabbed one of Tiki's legs as she was pulling them back, and began trying to put her into an ankle lock. This woman, thought a frustrated Tiki as she continued to fight back.

With her free leg, Tiki kicked at the arm Karla had grabbed her with as she yanked her trapped leg back towards her to pull it free. Tiki had decided. She was getting back up to her feet whether Karla liked it or not. And if she didn't, the she would just have to deal with it. Because Tiki was not letting Karla keep her on the ground any longer than she already had.

[Monsy]

There was a will to make something out of anything. A trapped heel for a trip. It just wouldn’t ever work. Everything has been checked, even with the kick and pry that left Karla sitting without a grip on anything. She’d seethe through her teeth, look up and snarl. A hammer fist pounded the canvas, her opposite arm and a yell for each swing. She’d curl herself onto her back and start kicking the canvas, “SOOO... ANNOYING!” Her venom spouted as another fist dropped. Then she’d roll her knees up, lifting her waist off, piling onto her shoulders. She’d stab the air with the mounting pressure in her thighs, spring from the canvas onto feet with a kick-up! Velvet strands covered her face, split with two hands, where that death-glare peered up, eyes sharper than a razor, and the corner of her lip twitched. “I'll kill you with my knee!” That sounded her advance; stomping feet like cast iron sat in her soles. Her left knee sprang with a jump, pulled back, then pumped towards their chest, embellished by another fury-drowned, reckless yell.

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The fact that Tiki finally managed to escape both the mat and Karla's attack and get back up to her feet was something that Karla was... less than pleased with, to say the least. Tiki watched stunned as she watched both a grown woman and professional athlete throwing a straight up temper tantrum in the middle of a match before she got up.

"I feel the same way about you," mumbled Tiki beneath her breath in response to Karla's outburst. Then the German charged at Tiki, having changed from composed and arrogant to belligerent and vicious. But anger blinded Karla into a foolish error. She had announced her attack, and then followed up on it in such a straightforward, single minded manner that there was no chance that it would be a bait or fake. So when Karla flew through the air, though her knee was aimed at Tiki's heart, it only hit air as the veteran deftly sidestepped the attack.

Once Karla flew past Tiki, the greenette would try to catch the German out of the air. If she did, Tiki would slam her back with the suplex of Karla's people. If successful, Tiki would push Karla onto her stomach and then quickly sit down on her back. After that, Tiki would try to lock Karla into a camel clutch submission hold.

[Monsy]

She’d overflowed with frustration. All these attempts bore little progress. Always checked, kicked away or countered. What more than to growl. Thrash at the world that wasn’t working her way. Yet she appeared like a child, kicked up like a fighter, then charged like a bull. Her knee ripped through the air, and even more as she coursed by, and her rage turned pallid. Arms surrounded her waist, and she folded over the forearm as the fulcrum, then whipped up and… “GAAH!”

Someone knocked the back of her skull into disarray, her neck tensed, and her upper back felt like it had a short spasm. Her stomach crunkled towards her head, and a heel rested at either side of her head. Her hips suspended in the air, and the momentum sent her arms whipping overhead, her fingers too exhausted to ball, so rested open like a sprawling field… The overhead lights glimmered, then turned dark as she was turned over face-down, her lips smothering the canvas until she was pulled up. Tiki’s sitting deflated her stomach and pushed the air from her lungs in a gasp. “Wait-wait…” She was cut silent by the grab on her chin. And she screamed. Both hands reached to clutch Tiki’s hand and tried to tunnel between her face and the clutch. Karla’s feet thrashed like a terrible storm. Her knees pulled up to the side, then kicked out, and whimpers showered. Those abs were pulled into a flat stomach, and her back scrunched into many pockets of flexed muscle, her spine arched almost into a half-pipe, popping the discs together, grinding them. But it felt like being eaten alive inside her stomach. She didn’t know whether to squirm, hold out, scream, whine or beg. The only truth she found was one she didn’t decide on. That her eyes would cascade.

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As Tiki had expected, Karla's outburst had only gotten her countered big time by the veteran wrestler, who had countless repetitions of experience in punishing opponent's who got too reckless with their offensives. And as anyone would be after getting suplexed out of the air, Karla was then too rattled to stop Tiki from locking her into a camel clutch.

But then something happened that Tiki hadn't expected: tears. Once Tiki had put Karla into her camel clutch, the German back to whimper and cry, tears flowing freely down her face. That easily? Tiki thought in surprise at the effectiveness of her camel clutch. She was strong, but she hadn't expected Karla to react like this.

For all Karla's offensive prowess, could her durability really be this much of a weakness for her? What Tiki knew for certain was that if Karla was crying, then she was on the right path, and likely closer to submission than she had thought. Thus Tiki's choice was clear; keep up the good work. She would continue to wrench Karla back by her chin, looking to see if she could turn those tears and whimpers into screams of submission.

[Monsy]

The dam already broke. Karla tried to squeeze her eyes shut, but her eyeliner seemed to betray anything she might’ve kept in. It seemed like only a second ago; her eyes were only wet. She never meant them to leak. This was one humiliation she couldn’t tolerate. “L-Let… G-Go!” Her voice crept through the cracks of her teeth with her jaw still held shut. And despite Karla’s newfound strength, she was outmatched, her size the detriment of all things. It wouldn’t take much for her body to start shuttering from the stretch for someone so short. But perhaps there was another way… With her hands going up so her forearms could cloak Tiki’s hands entirely from the referee’s view. She hissed, held her breath, then flinched her head down, sacrificing her neck so her mouth could open and so those two rows of teeth could find the flesh of Tiki’s hand and sink her teeth into it. If Karla successfully bit into them, she’d hold it, even clench harder, so they’d have no choice but to let go.