L.A.W. - League of Anime Wrestling

Camile writhed in Ivy’s hold, squirming against her legs. She was aware that she wasn’t exactly the most durable wrestler and was ill-suited to sustain this type of punishment for long. However, her efforts to escape only landed her in deeper trouble, her flailing arms allowing Ivy to gain control of all four limbs! Dull jolts of pain shot through her legs.

Camile screamed, equal parts frustration and pain. While Ivy’s improvised hold might not have been as effective as its traditional alternatives, it was certainly unpleasant. Camile began to wiggle, rapidly rotating her lower arms to attempt to weaken Ivy’s grip on them, as she attempted to worm her lower half out from the briton’s legs.

Ivy had successfully bolstered her Double Toed Leglock with a Surfboard Stretch lite, successfully denying Camile control of any of her limbs. Ivy's dominance wasn't complete, however. The Frenchwoman could use her body being laid out against the floor in order to push and wriggle her torso around, and the purplette's position sitting on top of Camile's ankles and rear wasn't exactly the most balanced spot.

So while none of Camile's individual movements would be enough to free her; Ivy had the strength to keep hold of her arms, Camile's legs too well locked to worm out, and enough weight on the brunette's back to keep her from wiggling free, to combine those things would write a different story. Pulled and pressured from numerous different directions, as Camile's wiggling rocked Ivy around atop her, eventually the Brit would slip. Ivy lost her hold, and fell off of Camile to the side.

Camile gasped as her efforts finally forced Ivy to relinquish her hold. It was not a technically impressive escape by any means, nor was it an elegant one. In fact, Camile laid sprawled on the floor for a moment, collecting herself, before making a move. Still, it had worked. Much more of that, though, and she'd be in serious trouble.

Camile rolled to her feet, squaring off against Ivy again. "Well played." She panted. She needed to press the attack, lest Ivy gain too much momentum. And so, without thinking too hard about it, Camile launched herself forwards, arm outstretched as she tried to clothesline her opponent.

Ivy tried to gather herself after Camile bucked her off like a bull to a rodeo rider. But as soon as she got up, Ivy was immediately swung on, catching a forearm to her nose. "Augh!" Ivy cried out as she was knocked down again, flat on her back. Tiki was going to give her so much flak later for getting hit by a Clothesline. Ivy's mentor has long decried that move as so ineffective that it should only ever land in a scripted fight, yet here Ivy was, getting dropped by one for real.

Ivy really had to make up for that one if she wanted to save face. For both dignity's sake, and her prospects of winning the match, Ivy absolutely could not let this spiral any further. The Brit would be on her most alert guard as she prepared to stop whatever Camile would try to do to capitalize on landing her Clothesline.