Post by Deleted on Jul 31, 2017 1:14:06 GMT -5
[Immediately preceding this RP: socalultraviolent.proboards.com/post/1557]
“Get up, Maddie.” Even with Braxton standing over her, her eyes were glued to Bobby, all the way up until he was in his car and it disappeared from sight.
The muscles in her legs flexed to to move, but it just sent a lance of pain through them. Pushing off with her hands didn't fare much better. After the third attempt, she just sagged back against the concrete column. “I can't.”
“Yes, you can. I've never seen you give up on a damn thing.” In the time he'd known her. He hadn't known her before, for the cello, for gymnastics, or for dancing. “Get up.”
She looked at his outstretched hand, and sucked in a breath before she reached up and grabbed it. He did most of the work of getting her to her feet, and then he hooked an arm under her legs and swept her right off of them. He carried her back to the car, even buckled her seatbelt for her once he had placed her inside. The whole time, though, he didn't look at her.
The silence hung for what seemed like forever when they had left the parking garage and found the street. Half a dozen times she started to speak, then realized she didn't know what to say. It took forever to think of how to explain this. “Braxton, listen. I—”
“Don't.” The cold nature of his response silenced her quickly. She turned her eyes out the window and tried to pretend she cared about the sidewalk, but he spoke up again, “Distract me with something, anything. Tell me about your next match.”
Maddie tried to keep from shrinking into the seat as she replied, “I... don't even know who I'm up against yet.”
“Tanja Devereaux, Damon Xalvador. Triple threat or whatever they call it.”
Right, she knew both of those names. Her mind raced to put together the details. “Tanja's a very skilled technician, and a submission specialist. She's taller than me, though, and that slows her down. She can't grapple what she can't catch. She's also a beanpole; five inches taller than I am and ten pounds lighter, which means she doesn't have the same strength I do. Tonight, or last night now, at World War Logan broke right out of that Indian Deathlock because she couldn't hold on.
“She doesn't have that power behind her strikes, either. Even with weapons at her disposal, she couldn't hit Logan hard enough to keep him down for more than a few seconds. Those extra ten pounds I have mean I can throw more into every shot.” She didn't have anything against Tanja, but the thought of putting a fist in the brunette's face was satisfying anyway.
She shot a glance over at Brax. His expression was unreadable, but he had a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel of the rental. The silence hung for a few moments longer as she looked down at her hands where some bruising and swelling was setting in.
“Damon... He's got more strength than I do, can't deny that when he could drag a man the size of Frost around like he did at World War. But even with that on me, he doesn't have the same force behind his hits, just like Tanja. After a surprise attack with the sledge hammer, and then the shots with the chair, Frost just brushed it right off.
“I'm lighter than he is as well, and that makes me a hell of a lot quicker. He proven before that he can't contend with speed like that. At Asylum XII Elena ran circles around him right up to the end where she ducked that clothesline and got him in the octopus hold.” She'd caught the tail end of the match only because of her interest in the briefcase at the time.
“It's kinda weird really, on paper they're practically the same opponent. I hit harder than both of them. At the last Asylum I had Tiffany flat on her back in a matter of seconds; three good strikes and I had her down. I'm also better in the air than both of them—I don't know if I've even seen either of them look higher than the second turnbuckle.
“I'm faster too. You saw the way I side-stepped Zahra in my first match and let her eat shit with that missile dropkick. Not to mention my conditioning exceeds both of theirs. Tiffany couldn't keep me down to save her life in our match, it wasn't until Zahra interfered that she was able to win.”
The atmosphere of the car seemed... slightly less frigid, but the tension was most certainly there. Maddie sure as hell wasn't going to bring up what had just happened, so it was uncomfortably quiet until Braxton spoke up again. “Just... take a shower when we get back to the hotel, and go to sleep. We'll talk in the morning. I need to clear my head tonight.” She wanted to say a million things. Instead she said nothing.
San Diego, California
Wednesday, Pre-Dawn
Wednesday, Pre-Dawn
“Get up, Maddie.” Even with Braxton standing over her, her eyes were glued to Bobby, all the way up until he was in his car and it disappeared from sight.
The muscles in her legs flexed to to move, but it just sent a lance of pain through them. Pushing off with her hands didn't fare much better. After the third attempt, she just sagged back against the concrete column. “I can't.”
“Yes, you can. I've never seen you give up on a damn thing.” In the time he'd known her. He hadn't known her before, for the cello, for gymnastics, or for dancing. “Get up.”
She looked at his outstretched hand, and sucked in a breath before she reached up and grabbed it. He did most of the work of getting her to her feet, and then he hooked an arm under her legs and swept her right off of them. He carried her back to the car, even buckled her seatbelt for her once he had placed her inside. The whole time, though, he didn't look at her.
The silence hung for what seemed like forever when they had left the parking garage and found the street. Half a dozen times she started to speak, then realized she didn't know what to say. It took forever to think of how to explain this. “Braxton, listen. I—”
“Don't.” The cold nature of his response silenced her quickly. She turned her eyes out the window and tried to pretend she cared about the sidewalk, but he spoke up again, “Distract me with something, anything. Tell me about your next match.”
Maddie tried to keep from shrinking into the seat as she replied, “I... don't even know who I'm up against yet.”
“Tanja Devereaux, Damon Xalvador. Triple threat or whatever they call it.”
Right, she knew both of those names. Her mind raced to put together the details. “Tanja's a very skilled technician, and a submission specialist. She's taller than me, though, and that slows her down. She can't grapple what she can't catch. She's also a beanpole; five inches taller than I am and ten pounds lighter, which means she doesn't have the same strength I do. Tonight, or last night now, at World War Logan broke right out of that Indian Deathlock because she couldn't hold on.
“She doesn't have that power behind her strikes, either. Even with weapons at her disposal, she couldn't hit Logan hard enough to keep him down for more than a few seconds. Those extra ten pounds I have mean I can throw more into every shot.” She didn't have anything against Tanja, but the thought of putting a fist in the brunette's face was satisfying anyway.
She shot a glance over at Brax. His expression was unreadable, but he had a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel of the rental. The silence hung for a few moments longer as she looked down at her hands where some bruising and swelling was setting in.
“Damon... He's got more strength than I do, can't deny that when he could drag a man the size of Frost around like he did at World War. But even with that on me, he doesn't have the same force behind his hits, just like Tanja. After a surprise attack with the sledge hammer, and then the shots with the chair, Frost just brushed it right off.
“I'm lighter than he is as well, and that makes me a hell of a lot quicker. He proven before that he can't contend with speed like that. At Asylum XII Elena ran circles around him right up to the end where she ducked that clothesline and got him in the octopus hold.” She'd caught the tail end of the match only because of her interest in the briefcase at the time.
“It's kinda weird really, on paper they're practically the same opponent. I hit harder than both of them. At the last Asylum I had Tiffany flat on her back in a matter of seconds; three good strikes and I had her down. I'm also better in the air than both of them—I don't know if I've even seen either of them look higher than the second turnbuckle.
“I'm faster too. You saw the way I side-stepped Zahra in my first match and let her eat shit with that missile dropkick. Not to mention my conditioning exceeds both of theirs. Tiffany couldn't keep me down to save her life in our match, it wasn't until Zahra interfered that she was able to win.”
The atmosphere of the car seemed... slightly less frigid, but the tension was most certainly there. Maddie sure as hell wasn't going to bring up what had just happened, so it was uncomfortably quiet until Braxton spoke up again. “Just... take a shower when we get back to the hotel, and go to sleep. We'll talk in the morning. I need to clear my head tonight.” She wanted to say a million things. Instead she said nothing.