LEAGUE: Cherise Campbell vs Nathan Weed (complete)

Cherise could have given up. But she didn't want to. She wasn't doing so well as far as winning matches went. She'd bite back on the pain, even though the hold had lessened a bit. She'd squirm a bit in the hold, still trying to free herself. She couldn't think of how to escape this hold, even though she was...aha! Well she thought she'd figured it out. Bracing herself against the ground, she'd start to try lifting herself up, along with Nathan. She hoped to get off the ground enough that she could slam his back back down against the ground by falling back down.

Nathan felt Cherise squrim and struggle and... what was this? The sensation of wet grass on his back slowly disappeared. This is new, Nathan thought, as he felt himself falling back to earth.

Nathan wasn't hurt, but, in his shock, he slid completely off of Cherise's body, staring up incredulously at the much smaller girl. Did she just...did that just happen?

Then Nathan laughed in dumbfounded surprise. "Wow, Cherise," Nathan cheered respectfully between chuckles. "Wow. That was nothing short of amazing." If Cherise was too spent from lifting Nathan to capitalize on her escape, Nathan would pull up into a crouch and get ready to defend himself.

Cherise was breathing hard after lifting Nathan. Did he eat bricks or something? She wasn't weak at all, and yet lifting him had taken a lot out of her. She'd blush when he laughed, and would slowly sit up, a bit wobbly still. First her legs, and now her entire body. She was exerting herself too much. She'd be spent before he even started to get winded.

"You...could have...kept up... the pressure..." She'd watch him, taking the moment to catch her breath. At least she didn't collapse from feeling so light headed.

Nathan laughed again. "Yeah, I guess I could have, and maybe against a bigger fighter I would have. But it was a huge shock for you to have lifted me. You surprised me off of you." Cherise seemed to be on the verge of collapse. Nathan was tired too, but the feat must have much more out of Cherise than she had anticipated.

Nathan stood up slowly, as to not fall over. "Don't look," he joked as he took off his sweatpants. "It's getting kind of hot." Nathan explained as he threw the sweatpants carelessly away. Underneath, Nathan wore a pair of Mavericks basketball shorts.

Nathan looked to see if Cherise had caught her breath yet. He was giving her a chance to recover, but was trying not to make it obvious. If she wasn't ready, he'd point and suggest, "Hey, why not finish up our fight in the sand pit? It would be a shame to be assigned the grounds as an arena and not make full use of it. Come on, I'll let you carry me there." If she agreed, he'd offer a hand to help her up.

Cherise did notice, but she tried to not make it noticable that she noticed. It was a bit humiliating to be taken so lightly. Right now though, she was too out of breath to make a big deal out of it. She might later though. She'd turn her gaze when he took off his shorts, her face flushing a bit before she'd get to her feet, refusing his help. She was still a bit wobbly, but she could manage. "Sure. I suppose it couldn't hurt for a change in scenery.

Cherise stood up, ignoring Nathan's outstretched hand. "Sure. I suppose it couldn't hurt for a change in scenery."

Cherise brushed by his hand and hobbled carefully toward the sandpit, leaving Nathan to puzzle over her sudden coldness. Almost instantly, Nathan remembered his friend Amy's angry reaction to mercy in any form in a fight. She must have figured out what I was up to, he realized.

Fuck, Nathan groaned inwardly. Why are women so sensitive? It's not like I'm taking them any less seriously; I'm not lying down and offering free shots or anything. It's just a short breather; even boxing matches are separated into rounds, for Christ's sake. Nathan followed Cherise slowly, visibly frustrated at the sudden change of atmosphere.

Nathan confronted Cherise once he reached the pit. "Cherise, I'm sorry but... I said I wouldn't hold back, right? Well, this is me not holding back. I don't think giving it my all should have to include fighting with dirty tactics or kicking my opponent when they're down; that's a good way to take the fun out of fighting, and I don't fight for any other reason. You seemed a little miffed when I didn't jump on you after your powerbomb (which, again, was beautiful by the way), but winning that way would have been way more embarrassing for me than it could have ever been for you. I couldn't get you to submit this whole match, but I end up winning because I weigh a little more than you can comfortably carry?

"I noticed that you don't like to use strikes, even though your arms look like they can put some hurt on a guy's face. I'm the same way; there are better methods to win a match, methods that you don't have to justify to yourself or be ashamed of later. You get it, right? You understand, don't you?" Nathan finished, and it struck him that he could be completely wrong, that he'd imagined Cherise's frosty behavior. Nathan blanched. God, I hope I'm right on this. Cherise was cool, he'd decided, and he hoped that this incident would do nothing to prevent a potential friendship.

Cherise would let Nathan finish his speech, crossing her arms before turning to face him. She'd cock her head to the side, wondering why he felt the need to appologize. "Finished?" She'd smile at him, trying to show him that she wasn't too angry. "So are you telling me that, if a wrestler were to try to perform a move that they really have no business trying, and they're left exhausted or open afterwards, that you shouldn't capitalize? Are you telling me you'd have done the same thing if I were a guy? Well thats a bit unfair actually. You wouldn't know until it actually happened what you'd do. But regardless... I shouldn't have tried to power out of that move. If you want to let up a bit because you want the match to last longer, than fine. But I do expect you to still give it your all." Cherise certainly wasn't winded anymore. She definately felt full of energy to keep the match going.

"I prefer to wrestle with submission holds than anything else. Thats just a preference. It would be fun to sit here and debate this, but we really should finish our match first." She'd smile at Nathan, getting into a ready position to start wrestling again. "I'm not too angry with you anyway. If I had been, I'd have tried to take your hand and pull you down into another painful submission hold."

Nathan listened to Cherise intently. He could have said more, but Cherise said she wasnâ€t angry; thank goodness, too, since it would apparently have been hard on his poor arm if she were.

Nathan smiled, relieved and a little embarrassed. “Um. Right. If youâ€re not mad, then great, we can pretend I never said that. Okay then, letâ€s finish up.” Nathan stood at the ready, prepared to defend himself.

Cherise definately didn't seem as tired as she had been a moment before. Wherever her boost came from, it allowed her to suddenly dart behind Nathan, quickly reaching to grab at his head. She was aiming to pull his head under her arms, almost like she was going for a reverse DDT. But if she managed to get ahold of him, she'd instead kick at the back of his knees to send him down, while going down herself. She was going to put him into a dragon sleeper, and hopd that he too didn't have a sudden second wind like she did.

Nathan had excellent reflexes, but he didn't expect Cherise to be so fine so fast. Cherise moved, and if she was tired before, it didn't show. He waited a second too long to lunge at his charging foe, and Cherise was able to duck under his arms and find her way behind him.

As he started to turn to face Cherise, she grabbed his head and brought him down to the wet and clumpy sand with a couple of solid kicks to the knees. Then she pulled back, and Nathan knew he was in trouble.

"Sure...you're not... mad?" Nathan managed to gurgle, his hands grasping weakly at Cherise's arm and shoulder.