Blaise Cameron vs. Aaliyah Jackson - Best 2 of 3 Falls

[BlackAkuma]

Aaliyah had pinned enough people to get a good sense of when they had a chance to kickout of a pin - their bodies had a certain energy to it, the way they breathed, and their eyes were almost always open. She saw none of those telltale signs in Blaise, and while she suspected he would get his energy back in short order, that was going to take a lot longer than three seconds. She had this.

”3…!”

The crowd gave her a solid cheer as she sat up to her knees and pumped her fist, more than satisfied with how things were going so far. She reached over to give him a quick pat on the chest. His admittedly tight, muscular chest. ”Better luck next time, handsome.”

[CyanDimitrik]

Indeed, Blaise was out for this stretch of time. She might've had a good run for the money on pinning him for a solid ten seconds after that hit. But regardless, he perch leaning against his chest would go uninterrupted and undisturbed, save for the rise and fall of his breathing. And once the referee's hand strikes the mat that third time, she waves it in the air.

*DING*

The first point goes to Aaliyah Jackson via pinfall!

The pat of her hand against his chest earns a soft groan from Blaise. First his head turns, his eyes squeezing shut a moment. Then they open, first noting Aaliyah's smiling face. A few blinks to try to clear his head, and... he smirks up at her. "What..? Next time?," he asks, voice raised just high enough to be heard above the crowd. "You mean.. like.. right now?"

Elbows tucking against the mat, he pushes himself to sit up, then tilts enough towards her to nudge his shoulder against her chest. "Good hit, hotstuff."

[BlackAkuma]

”Eh, I know what I said.”

Really, she had just meant the next fall, but she was willing to go beyond that and claim the entire match without much pushing. True, she still needed to get another fall, but she was confident she could make that happen. She’d had Blaise’s number the first time around, she could go for a repeat. Easy.

She cocked her eyebrow at him with a knowing smirk as he bumped his shoulder against her chest. ”Plenty more where that came from. Enough to take you down one more time.” She threw herself back onto her shoulders, kicked her legs up, and rose to her feet in a single fluid motion, deftly coming down on her feet. After a short hop, she was back in the center of the ring, hands on her knees as she bent down and leaned forward.

She curled a finger his way, beckoning him on. ”Prove me wrong.”

[CyanDimitrik]

Blaise watches Aaliyah's expression with interest; the cockiness of it, the confidence. She's a tall drink of something, that's for sure. And it's just not in him to be mean and diminish what she'd accomplished. He'd never held a loss against someone before his rebranding. He wouldn't start now. In fact, as she proceeds to show off a bit more, he gives an exaggeratedly impressed expression, eyebrows raised, mouth open, and even a nod with a clap.

She beckons and says... well. Something that tickles him. The look shifts from impressed to wry. Devilish.

Much less ado when it comes to his rise to his feet, pushing against the mat to even stagger forward a step before catching his balance. And then, a dramatic half-spin to face her, index finger pointed. "God, do I ever plan on it."

The referee-girl waves an arm to signal the match's continue! *DING*

Blaise skips forward a step towards her and the center ring, arms raised as if to lock up with her - only it proves to be a feint. There was no intention to grapple with her. The position he was in, the sidelong skip, it all feeds fluidly into a surprise opening. The left leg chambered in the movement, and when his upper-body suddenly tilts to the side, the superkick will snap in like lightning aimed to catch the girl's face.

No frills. Nothing fancy. But it fires off like a bullet.

[BlackAkuma]

Some guys, at this point, would be getting a little pissed off. This wasn’t the first intergender match Aaliyah had ever been in, and while she’d been blessed with some decent male opponents in her time, no small amount of them had been assholes, too. Typically, that assholery came out once they figured out she was a serious threat and that she wasn’t just going to dance around and let them cop a feel on her chest. They got put down hard after that, in multiple ways.

Thankfully, Blaise wasn’t like that, and while she wouldn’t show it so much right now, Aaliyah appreciated the competitive attitude. She asked him to bring it, and by the look on his face, she could tell he’d oblige.

When the bell rang, she moved in with arms up, eager to engage - or, at least, eager to make him think that was what she wanted. She planned to duck out of the tie-up at the last second and catch him from behind, maybe nail a backstabber, and work him over from there—a good setup.

Too bad that Blaise was quicker on the draw, spinning about at the last second and firing a superkick straight at her. She had no chance at this range, and the blow landed clean on her chin, shooting her head back and making her stumble away.

However, she regained her senses after a couple of steps and planted her foot with a smile. ”Yeah, okay…” Instead of falling back, she moved back towards Blaise, brought her leg up, and returned fire with a Superkick of her own, making sure to add in a hop for that extra bit of force.

Superkick party? She was down.

[CyanDimitrik]

The move connects, the impact could be felt like a satisfying tremor shooting the length of Blaise's leg, and the boot plants down again. He's ready to press the advantage that brutal kick nets him, and-

What the Hell, she's still standing?

He blinks.

Old Blaise would've been left standing there dumbfounded, and in return completely floored by the returned kick. Old Blaise would've taken it right on the chin, and potentially lost the next point right there for being knocked out. But this isn't Old Blaise. This is the Phoenix. If a year's worth of hammering out that complete lack of defense and adaptability would ever be expected to manifest, it'd have to be now. He logically sees what's coming. It doesn't matter if he's not sure how she weathered that direct blow.

She throws the kick.

Fight now. Analyze later.

Blaise's body tilts smoothly aside, shrugging his far shoulder back to let her effectively take a massive step rather than planting her boot in his face. The movement ends with her back directly in front of him. His arms lash tight for her midsection, arms wrapping around her waist. And without hesitation, his back arches and the arms will pull, attempting to whip Aaliyah up and over into a German suplex, aiming to guide her down against the back of her head and shoulders.

Should that succeed, he'll keep himself bridged with her, arms hugging her belly, him poised on the toes of his boots to ply both their weights against her shoulders for a pinfall.

[BlackAkuma]

Blaise wasn’t the only one wondering how she’d taken that kick. Truth told, Aaliyah was sort of wondering it herself, and the one thing she kept coming back to was just experience, having taken the move so many times on the indy scene. That and being stubborn as all get-out, one of her best qualities. So she was told.

Whatever the case, it was giving her enough field to survive for the time being, and she could return fire of her foe, which she promptly did. Her leg shot out, quick as a whip. She braced herself for the impact and…nothing. The kick shot out into space, sliced through air, and all Aaliyah could do was stumble and try to gather herself.

She knew something was coming, but it was too late to do anything about it, as Blaise’s arms promptly wrapped around her body and hoisted her up with surprising ease. She tried to reverse it into a flip, but he held onto the suplex instead of releasing it - the only place she was going was down, and down hard.

Aaliyah landed on her shoulder, folded over, her legs hanging in the air as the referee slid in for the count.

”1…!”

At first, she didn’t struggle. She couldn't. She was too out of it, too rocked by the impact. She could hear the count, but couldn't muster the strength to do anything other than lay there.

”2…!”

At the second count, she summoned her energy, dug deep, and thrust her legs out all once, breaking out of the pin and flopping over to her chest. She couldn't do much more than that, however - for now, all she could do was rest and try to regain what strength she could before the next attack.

[CyanDimitrik]

Blaise pushed with his toes against the mat, urging his chest tight against her lower back, his cheek pressed against her spine. Arms pull in tighter against her midsection, hugging her securely in the bridged position. She'd been a slippery opponent. He's adapting. The best way to deal with her is to keep her firmly in grasp as much as possible. Sweat-slickened skin makes it a challenge, but that's the nature of wrestling with someone. After a certain point, skin gets slippery.

The first count, and she's still down and out. The second count, he can feel her core tightening and tensing under his arms. He can tell she's about to kick free, and the negative aspect of this pinning position is that balance is everything. If the opponent isn't out, one good thrust will disrupt it. And that's just what happens, causing the pair to spill over to the side, Aaliyah onto her chest.

Blaise rolls over onto all fours, taking a few hard breaths before reaching for her hips. Or more specifically, the waistband of her pants. Pulling, he attempts to draw the girl back onto her knees, himself pressed in behind her. Left arm hooking under her right shoulder, he attempts to cross it in front of her neck to pull her backwards, bracing her spine against an upturned knee, while his bicep slowly added pressure to her throat. It's a classic dragon sleeper submission hold, just as the announcers would call it.

It becomes his signature move, the Sizzle Reel, when the right hands gets involved. It sets first to her ribs while he sets the hold up, to steady her. Then afterwards, it slides inwards, past the obliques to the center of her arched, taut stomach, his fingers and palm running along the etched outline of her abdominals. Then those fingertips bear in hard against the abs, clenching onto the muscles in an added stomach claw. His head is still rattled from her kick before, but he thinks he's put her through stomach-centric pain before in the match. Now he's aiming for agony.

[BlackAkuma]

Step one: Escape. Aaliyah had doen well on that front, so far.

Step two: She hadn't gotten that far in the plan, yet.

Credit where it was due; Blaise was doing a number on her so far, easily making up for whatever lost ground he had from the first fall. After getting slammed and planted like that, Aaliyah was in a bad spot - she was tougher than she looked, but not so much that she could take hits like and just walk them off. She needed a moment to breathe, but it didn’t seem like he was going to give him one anytime soon, if the hand pulling her waistband was any indication.

She tried to resist, but he had too much strength and the initiative was all his. There was nothing she could do to stop him as she was pulled back, her head was seized and she found herself languishing in a dragon sleeper. One the most effective, debilitating moves in wrestling, and it would’ve been more than enough on its lone.

Too bad for her, he had more in mind than just that. Aaliyah gasped as his hand traveled down her body, initially mistaking it for a lecherous touch. When she found out the truth, though, she almost wished her initial assessment was right, as his claws dug deep into skin, applying a brutal claw, one that sunk into her abdominals and left her thrashing in his grip.

Nowhere near the ropes, not easy way to escape that she could see. All she could do for the moment was squirm about, twisting this way and that in a vain attempt to get free.

[CyanDimitrik]

The suspicion was fair. In any other context, it likely would've seemed like simply taking advantage of Aaliyah's taut form, feeling along her tantalizingly bare midsection. Even in LAW, there's a solid chance it might've been that. It's not like many matches and setups didn't have noticeably loaded pretenses, or that a significant portion of the participants were signed on primarily to get their hands on attractive opponents. And in fairness, Blaise does appreciate the fine work Aaliyah's put in to sculpt her physical figure, fingertips running along the edges and grooves of her abdominals before finding the center of her stomach.

But this wasn't about feeling her up. This was about pressing an advantage and working on a weakspot he'd already been drilling. This was about clenching on her defenseless stomach, fingertips bearing hard against her skin to agonize her mid and lower abdominals. And feeling her thrashing in desperation was proof positive that it was working. He hadn't gotten to use this move too much yet, having first invented it against Makie. He can feel every breath she takes, every tremble in her core, and every exhale sees him press in a little harder.

"Come on, baby, come on...!," he shouts over the roar of the crowd.

The referee hovers close, at an angle to keep an eye on her hands and face. "Do you submit!?," she asks.