A Little Calm...

League Final

Deadwood - Really Slow Motion

Its the last round. You've made it this far with only a split lip from a hulking great man in the quarterfinal. Now it's just two of you left. And much like the last four rounds, it's a mass of muscle that towers over you.

Bucky
"Begin."

He doesn't waste time before lunging towards you, aiming for a swift tackle. Using your agility against him, you duck between his stanced legs and kick his knees. As he falls onto them, you climb onto his back and attempt to put him in a headlock. Instead, he grabs you by the back of your shirt and throws you over his head. Landing on your shoulders with a loud thud, the monstrous man spins around so that he's straddled over your ribcage. Clasping both hands around your neck, he places increasing pressure over your trachea.

FT
"1..."

You look to your left to see Buck chewing his thumbnail again.

MT
"2..."

Bringing your hands up to meet his, you begin to pry his fingers away from your throat.

FT
"3..."

At this point, you have no other options than to go for a low blow. Quite literally. Before the male trainer can reach the forth count, you snap one hand away from your neck and smash your fist between his legs. He then loosens his grip from your neck and is distracted enough for you to take them away completely. Flipping him over, you sit up and let him fall onto his back. Resting his head on your thigh, you hook your knee under his chin, keeping him in a headlock, and stretching one of his arms up to expose his throat more. His hand scratches at your calf but you refuse to yield.

FT
"1..."

Struggling to maintain your position, in one fast movement you pull his head up to your chest, swapping your legs for your arms and wrap your legs over his torso, hooking your feet over his groin to keep him steady.

MT
"2..."

He continues to struggle but you hold him still, flaring your nostrils from the need of extra effort on your part.

FT
"3..."

Barely trying to break free now, the man on top of you sways from side to side.

MT
"4..."

Squeezing a little tighter for the last count, you look your opponent as much in the eye as you can, his expression changing from one of desperation, to disgust.

FT
"5..."

You begin to loosen your arms before he forces them off. Standing up fast enough to expect a head rush, he looks down at you with a snarl across his face. He exits the mat with hard stomps of his feet. He heads straight for the door and slams it behind him.
Leaning up on your elbows, Bucky comes over and offers you a hand up. Taking it gladly, you share a small smile before shaking hands with other two trainers

FT
"Impressive. We haven't been properly introduced, my name is Soren."

MT
"I'm Talos. Barnes told us to watch out for you."

Y/n
"Well then I'm guessing you know that I have an unfair advantage."

Soren
"Maybe, but he was twice your size."

All three of them then turn to address the room as you rejoin the group.

Talos
"That's all for today. Same time and place tomorrow for weapons assessment. You're dismissed."