Makie Akamatsu vs. Armando 'Army' Rodriguez - Let's You and Him Fight, Part 2

The leg drop would've sucked if he'd hit the damn thing - not exctly the cleanest move ever. But not having Makie in position for it made the move suck even worse. He landed on his ass. Right on his ass.

Army bit back a yell and managed to downgrade it to just an agonized groan, as the pain washed over his bones like a tidal wave. His eyes shut tight and quickly flopped on his back while he tried to cope with the pain. And failed. Miserably.

The crowd gave a collective, sympathetic groan as Army missed his leg elbow drop. Given the sounds the audience was making, Makie guessed it must have hurt, and as she rolled over to her hands and knees, she saw that she was right. Army was sprawled on his back, eyes screwed shut in pain, and by the look of things, he was having trouble moving.

"Sorry," Makie breathed as she pushed herself up to her hands and knees, "that hurt?" Stumbling over to Army, her back throbbing in pain, she grabbed a hold of Army's by the wrist. He seemed to favour this arm when launching his punches, so now, Makie thought, was as good a time as any take care of that.

Pressing her heels against Army's shoulder, Makie would drop down to her but, intertwining her legs around his arm and arching her body back, twisting on Army's wrist as she torqued his arm in an armbar submission.

"'That hurt'?" Even through the groans, he managed to do a decent Makie impression. "Sound like a Japanese Minnie Mouse..."

Things weren't looking too good at the moment, but Army was still optimistic. He just needed a moment. Maybe two. A whole minute would've been good, really. Then he get up and recoup and go right back to taking the fight to Makie, show her what a Rodriguez could really do.

She had other ideas, though. Painful ideas. Ideas that involved grabbed ahold of his arm, and while he didn't know exactly what she was going for, he had a strong feeling that it was going to suck. And it did. Big time.

Army cried out as she locked his arm into the submission, pulling away it, threatening to knock it right out of his shoulder. He tugged, hard, but there was no contest here - it was one arm against two, and even with his strength, that wasn't happening. He figured his best chance was with the ropes, and that's what he worked towards, trying to slid along the floor and read them with his foot.

Makie clenched her teeth as she worked the armbar, wrenching as hard on it as she was able. She was rewarded by the sound of Army crying out-- an understandable reaction to having one's arm feel like it was being ripped out of their socket. And yet despite all of this, Army started to crawl towards the ropes, dragging her along on her butt even as she continued to torque the hold. Makie had to admit, she was impressed.

"Come on," she breathed, leaning her body back abruptly to send a nice jolt down Army's arm, "give up, Rodriguez! Unless you want me to put you in a damn cast, tap out! You're not getting out of this one!" Around them, the crow was ecstatic now, with many of them seeing the match hanging in a balance as Army was locked in the painful hold.

For a small girl, Makie was surprisingly full of hot air, but that didn't nescessarily mean she was all wrong. He was in a bad spot, and getting out of it was surprisingly tough. He was making progress towards the ropes, but not fast enough, and he was starting to think her taunt about the caste wasn't total bullshit. He'd have to sit on the sidelines for a few months, and that was something he couldn't afford. So he needed a solution, and an immediate one. "Sorry," He gave her the middle finger, right in the face. Little rude. Couldn't resist. "I don't tap. Deal with it."

Instead of pulling away from Makie, he switched tact and tried curling towards her pushing against her legs while he pulled his trapped arm in. He didn't need to make her fold all the way up, just close enough for him to reach over and try to give her a punch in the face.

Army's response to Makie's demand for surrender was short, to the point, and, as much as Makie didn't want to admit it, actually pretty awesome. His trapped hand curled into a middle finger mere inches from her face, and she gave him a sour look and wrenched his arm harder in response. "Broken arm it is, then," she said. "It was your call, Rodriguez, but looks like you won't be throwing many punches with this arm for a whi--"

She didn't get to finish as Army suddenly curled under her legs and swung at her with his free hand. The blow took her completely by surprise and sent her head snapping back. "UUUUH!" she gasped, releasing his arm as she clutched her face. Distance and angle had robbed the punch of much of its power, but it was still enough to leave Makie seeing stars. Groaning, she rolled away from Army, the crowd clapping at his escape.

It was more than a little odd to be cheered for punching a girl in the face, even if said girl had made her intentions of breaking his arm quite clear. But screw it. The Tension audience was going along with it all, and didn't seem to have a problem with him putting the hurt on Makie, and he'd gladly oblige.

His arm was still hurting, so he wanted to lay off it for a little while. At the same time, though, he needed to shut her down for a while, as well, and the best way to that would be by taking a page out of her own book - a submission hold. He had just the one, too. Didn't know too many, but there was one Carmen used on him a few times.

He stepped over Makie's body, pulled her head up, then reached around her neck and caught her neck so that his lower arm was behind her skull, he squeezed tight, pulled her back as he fell on his back, and tried to lock her up with a dragon sleeper, looking to take the fight out of her as he powered down.

The punch had taken Makie completely by surprise, and left her flat on her back, clutching her face and kicking at the mat. She was beginning to feel a lingering dizziness from all of those hits to the head, and she began to wonder how much longer she'd be able to keep going in this match. Balling a fist, she willed herself to move, turning and rolling back onto her hands and knees...

...and found her head being wrenched back. Surprise, she opened her eyes, only to get a nice view of Army's armpit as she was suddenly wrapped up in a dragon sleeper. "MMMMPH!" she gasped, pawing at Army's arms as her lean body was bent back in a graceful, yet painful, curve. Her pawing turned to punch as she tried in vain to get free. Feeling herself starting to weaken from the crushing grip around her skull, she clenched her teeth and pressed her legs together, aiming to shoot both of her knees up and back into Army's face in an effort to free herself.

Makie was flexible, Army had to give her that much. He was cranking up the pressure, and he would've thought the pain alone would get her to snap mentally even if she wouldn't physically. Wasn't happening. She just kept on keeping, as the crowd clapped and egged her on.

"Come on, quit anytime you feel like." He gave her a particularly vicious squeeze, ratcheting up the pressure. "Just a few taps and it's over, no shame!"

She was starting to get weak, losing all that crazy little strength in her body, and Army was starting to get confident about his chances of winning. here. More confident than usual. So confident that he didn't notice Makie's knee heading towards his face until it was already crashing into it.

Army's head jolted back and the hold immediately loosed, as his hands suddenly became far more occupied with covering his aching face and rubbing his throbbing skull.

Makie could swear she heard her spine starting to pop and crack under pressure as Army bent her back, testing her flexibility to its limits as he bent her back in an elegant C-shape. No doubt the audience was ogling the nice view of her slender form as Army locked in the hold, but this was the least of her worries. She kicked back, and somehow, her desperate knee strike did its job: the dragon sleeper came loose, and Makie was allowed to flop unceremoniously onto her back, drenched in sweat and breathing hard.

She was dimly aware of the crowd roaring in approval around her, but she barely paid it any heed-- the angry, throbbing pain in her back was a lot louder. She made a mental note to never question Army's ability to use submission holds again as she raised an arm, wincing as the pain in her back flared up. She gritted her teeth and pushed it to the back of her mind, forcing herself to roll over onto her hands and knees. Slowly, inch by inch, she forced herself to stand back up, hearing some members of the crowd clapping in rhythm as she did so. She fed off of that energy as she finally straightened up to her feet.

She looked down at Army, who was busy holding his face after that kick. If he was slowly getting to his feet, then she would hold her breath and bide her time, before screaming and launching a spinning-kick at Army's head as he got back up. Otherwise, she would jump over him, run to the ropes, and rebound at him with a drop kick at her prone opponent.