Post by Alice Harris on Jun 4, 2016 17:35:52 GMT -5
"There is no instance of a nation benefiting from prolonged warfare."
-Sun Tzu
-Sun Tzu
Kneeling there, bruised, covered in sweat and desperately struggling to catch her breath, Alice Harris, the Multi-Federation superstar wretched at the taste of bile burning the back of her throat. Her chest felt extremely heavy with every breath she took. No matter how deep the breaths were or how frequent they were, she felt like she was suffocating. No amount of air could fill her lungs which were feeling the strain of her diaphragm which had taken a serious knee strike from one of the people she was training with in preparation for the upcoming Iron Man Match.
"C'Mon! It's been Twenty six minutes... You have thirty four left and you're losing 3-0... Pick it the fuck up!"
The harsh drill sergeant like instruction and 'motivation' of a coach snapped her to her senses. Pushing herself up from her hands and knees, she raised her head. Her hair was soaked with sweat, clinging to her forehead and there wasn't a single bit of her usual pale complexion on show, it was all bright red, be it from the sheer physical exertion and demands of the match, or the moves she had received. Spitting on the canvas, the saliva, usually a frothy white colour was pure red. She'd either had a lip busted or bit her tongue or the inside of her cheek at some point when she took a blow to the head. Dismissing the bitter taste in her mouth, she pushed up to one knee, steadying herself with one hand firmly planted into the canvas and the other balled into a fist, ready for the next person to come at her.
"Right... Number Four... You got four minutes to pin this bitch or you're being switched out... Got it?"
The training set up was bizarre to anyone who didn't quite understand the psyche of Alice. The former Legacy Champion believed in a "All Or Nothing" approach in her actual competitive matches, but whilst most people would take it slightly easier in training so close to the big match for fear of injury, Alice applied this double-edged sword like philosophy to her training. If she couldn't give it her all and then a bit extra when she was training, how could she give even more than that in the ring where it counted? Mentally reminding herself of this mantra, silently repeating it to herself in her head, she watched as her sparring partner begun his advance.
(Internal Voice of Alice):
"Right Harris... Look at him... He's barely taller than you... What... About five nine? One-Eighty? Kid's basically a wet noodle, but those flashy knee and elbow strikes are where he shines... He knows how to place 'em to loosen the guard up and then when it's easy to break, he's quick and relentless... You gotta take it to this bastard and pin him, reduce the deficit...."
"Right Harris... Look at him... He's barely taller than you... What... About five nine? One-Eighty? Kid's basically a wet noodle, but those flashy knee and elbow strikes are where he shines... He knows how to place 'em to loosen the guard up and then when it's easy to break, he's quick and relentless... You gotta take it to this bastard and pin him, reduce the deficit...."
And that is exactly what she did. Watching her opponent come closer, she fought past the stinging feeling which danced across her abdomen like a swarm of fire ants wreaking havoc on her and bit her bottom lip as she reached her feet. Closing in on him, Alice tried to mix it up. Spotting the left leg leading, she knew a big rising Muay Thai styled rising knee was coming or a big looping right hook, meaning she had two paths to choose with how to turn this round - move away from the strike and try to go in quick or to try and counter the strike directly. Never one to take the easy method, Alice moved closer, theoretically limiting the power behind the strike by meaning it had less distance to cover before it found it's mark. Sure, this logic may not always work, see the Sucker Punch as a fine example, but it was her best bet given how she didn't feel too confident of a spin-out and strike combo at that point in time. Never one to make unnecessary moves, especially those which if they didn't pan out would spell disaster for her, Alice stuck with her gut instincts.
Inner Alice:
"Watch the waist. If it twists, he's throwing the punch...."
"Watch the waist. If it twists, he's throwing the punch...."
And there it was, the slight twist in the waist from her foe drew one of Alice's eyes to his right arm which as she correctly predicted was coming in her direction. Looping in from the outside, the man's fist was seemingly on a collision course with Alice's jaw but the brunette, highly adept at close quarter's fighting was already two steps ahead of him. Flicking her left hand out, palm open and fingers pointed up, her palm knocked into his wrist, derailing the strike.
Inner Alice:
"Now!"
"Now!"
Despite not being super human or some kind of deity who had the power to manipulate time and space or distort reality, Alice seemed to make everything look like slow motion as she executed her plan. To those watching, even though it was insanely quick in execution, every single movement could be spotted clearly. The fingers clamping down on the wrist, the subtle tug on the arm to pull the aggressor off balance, the left leg flicking out in a snap kick to the inner thigh of the right leg, dropping the opponent enough for her to step in, twisting as she moved so her back was firmly pressed up against his front, one of her arms looped around his waist, grabbing his waistline for extra leverage whilst the wrist control hand was now grabbing the upper arm. All this whilst her right leg remained up off the floor before being swung backwards as she pulled and twisted her hips through, effortlessly lifting and dumping the man over onto the canvas with a leg sweep hip toss.
Coach: "C'mon Noodle... You gonna let a tasty little piece like her hand you your ass like that? Break it and fight back!"
Hitting the mat hard, the man tried to roll but Alice, having correctly positioned herself and still holding his arm, Alice was too quick. Slightly lifting him up before dropping backwards, extending her legs out across him, one resting in the natural corner formed by the chin and throat, the other across his sternum, Alice applied the basic but highly effective armbar. Shaking her head before closing her eyes, letting her head fall back and letting out a scream of anger, Alice wrenched the arm, using every ounce of strength she could muster to try and counter act the physically stronger man's resistance but it was futile on his part - he tapped furiously against the canvas.
Coach: "Right, Noodle, get the fuck out of the ring... Number Five... Haul Ass, make that bitch TAP!"
Whilst many who see this footage may see the coach as some kind of sexist pig, he is far from it. The balding man with a goatee and imposing physique is actually an acquaintance of Alice's from another company, a man known for a very short temper and a very strong dislike of people who cannot beat something with raw force.
Inner Alice:
"This guy.... Shit... He's at least six three and judging by the size of him... Those arms and that broad chest, he's gotta be two-twenty plus... Ugh... This is not what I need... It's like a Sergal, exhausted from hunting all day coming face to face with a fucking Bison"
"This guy.... Shit... He's at least six three and judging by the size of him... Those arms and that broad chest, he's gotta be two-twenty plus... Ugh... This is not what I need... It's like a Sergal, exhausted from hunting all day coming face to face with a fucking Bison"
With no time to dust herself off, Alice knew she had to brace herself. For a big man compared to most modern wrestlers and trainees these days who seem to be opting for the leaner, more athletic build putting maneuverability over physique, his first attack was going to be a wild charge, be it a knee, a clothesline or some kind of imposing impact strike utilising his bulk to its fullest.
Inner Alice:
"Take the hit and play possum or on the defensive... Or avoid it and play cat and mouse.... Either way, both will take it outta me in one way or another, be it energy or resilience... And Noah is going to know that... He's going to look at me like I'm a frog on some tenth grader's lab bench in Biology. I'm gonna be there, pinned down and he's going to be standing over me with a smirk as he holds that scalpel, ready to cut me to pieces, taking part by part away from me until i'm just nothing but an empty shell..."
"Take the hit and play possum or on the defensive... Or avoid it and play cat and mouse.... Either way, both will take it outta me in one way or another, be it energy or resilience... And Noah is going to know that... He's going to look at me like I'm a frog on some tenth grader's lab bench in Biology. I'm gonna be there, pinned down and he's going to be standing over me with a smirk as he holds that scalpel, ready to cut me to pieces, taking part by part away from me until i'm just nothing but an empty shell..."
Despite trying to remind herself why she was doing this, the burning pain in her body at what is now the half hour mark of this training session was showing. Moving slower and looking a little more sluggish in her evasive moves, Alice was on the back foot despite dictating the pace. Every time she gracefully evaded his strikes or twisted through his lunges and tie up attempts to keep distance until she could properly gauge his style and technique, Alice was slowing down. What would have been an easy reversal about ten minutes ago now seemed like it was the final moments of a match and it was her 9th inning Hail Mary.
Coach:
"Quit Slacking and hit her... She's slow, she's trying to wear you down... Pre-empt her moves and lunge that way! Use your fucking head!!"
"Quit Slacking and hit her... She's slow, she's trying to wear you down... Pre-empt her moves and lunge that way! Use your fucking head!!"
The opponent who was simply blindly rushing in, taking little care to pay attention to footwork or positioning grunted in response to the sound advice barked in his direction from his coach, but pride is an accidental motherfucker and Alice knows this. Cocky people make mistakes and mistakes against Alice Harris lead to her victories.
Ducking another clothesline but unable to spin out quick enough, Alice is knocked backwards by a quick blind elbow into teep kick combo which sends her into the turnbuckle. With her stomach taking the brunt of the kick and her back meeting the post yet again, she shook her head and spat more blood as the bigger man charged in for the stinger splash. Unfortunately for him, Alice had guessed a charge was coming. If it were a spear like move, she could hoist herself up with the ropes and go up top or over to the apron for safety, whilst the stinger splash meant she could spin out to the side and attack the back, or drop, roll and reverse the situation.
Inner Alice:
"Pull to the right, drop under the rope, catapult back over... Get the back or the glancing blow then break his guard..."
"Pull to the right, drop under the rope, catapult back over... Get the back or the glancing blow then break his guard..."
On paper the strategy was sound. Given the mix of styles Alice used, be it Joshi-styled, Lucha influenced, straight up survival instinct or technical and cunning, she knew she could pull this off, but as her opponent closed in, she could feel her senses paying tricks on her.
Coach:
"Don't commit! The moment she sees the commitment to the charge, you're fucked... She will tear you to pieces..."
"Don't commit! The moment she sees the commitment to the charge, you're fucked... She will tear you to pieces..."
For the men taking her on, this was a lesson too, a very valuable one. Being able to train with a former Legacy Champion, a woman who looked at the rule book and the conventions of wrestling and decided to throw it into a fire and re-write it in the blood, sweat, tears and damaged ego's of her defeated opponents was a golden opportunity to learn and absorb as much knowledge as possible.
Sadly, this man wouldn't learn his lesson well enough. Playing his hand too soon, Alice was able to quickly escape the move by pulling herself to the right, dropping down, rolling under the bottom rope and quickly pulling herself up. As her opponent crashed into the turnbuckle, Alice bent at the knees, vaulted herself over and twisted, hitting him across the jaw with a springboard roundhouse dropkick. Knocking him down cleanly, Alice quickly capitalised and went for the cover.
One
Two...
Three!
She'd pulled it back again to Three-Two, but with around twenty five minutes to go, the strain was showing.
Coach: "RIGHT... TIME!"
Alice looked in disgust at the coach.
Coach: "Look Alice... You're doing well... But thirty minutes in and you're fucked... You need to step off the gas, recharge for a day and build to this... Your actions are good, your instincts are spot on for the majority of the time... But your mind needs to be as sharp as your strikes. You cannot go into this with any doubts. Leave 'em in the Gorilla!"
Alice: "Start it up again... I still have twenty five minutes to win this thing...."
Coach: "And I said no, because you're a wreck right now... You're moving slower than usual, you're struggling to catch your second, third and fourth winds when given moments to recuperate and despite how much punishment you can take... I could easily drop you like a sack of shit and you'd wake up in the ER in a few hours time... Hit the showers, freshen up, re-hydrate, grab some food and just recharge Alice... I've watched Hanson a few times... If you come out looking like shit, he's going to basically annihilate you in the opening salvo of attacks and then toy with you for fifty minutes"
Alice: "Even when battered, bruised and broken, I can still win this thing...."
Coach: "Kid, you have guts... You got that burning desire, that will to win whatever the cost, be it to yourself or your opponent... You're a rare breed, but fuck... Girl, that fighting spirit and character can only carry you so far in this marathon.... Sure, that fucked up elimination match thing was a long distance event, but you had other people to buffer it, you lasted because you were fresh, you were smart and your blows landed true as always... This though is pure one on one combat... It's a battle of power, ability, determination, guts, character, durability, stamina, technique, strength... It tests body and mind... And whilst your body and the determination in your mind is honed to a fine art... Your psyche and mental stamina are vulnerable..."
Alice: "Like hell it is... If I win or lose, I accept it without any fuss. Gracious and Respectful in victory, humble in defeat, the way a true warrior should be"
Coach: "Yeah... But how many warriors have been fighting an exhausting, uphill mental war on the acceptance front... Even now I still see how you're beating yourself up over wondering if everyone will finally respect your talent and forget you got tits and a baby maker? Some people just don't get it, they never will... You're lucky your opponent respects you for who you are and what you have accomplished, and that is impressive since he's a veteran, someone who has survived where others have fell by the wayside..."
Alice: "I'm not concerned about that... Experience is a huge factor, but so is versatility and fluidity... Hanson may be innovative at times, but he is rigid..."
Coach: "True, but he knows what works for him and how to get the match into situations where it will work for him... You're rigid too, but up here..."
The coach taps his temple before folding his arms.
Coach: "Now look, just do as I say... Wind down tonight... And then we can hit it again tomorrow... Rest up, you might actually make it to fourty minutes without wanting to throw up"
Patting Alice on the shoulder, the coach walked past her, leaving her alone in the ring.
Inner Alice:
"Mentally rigid... Heh... I'll show him...."
"Mentally rigid... Heh... I'll show him...."
And thus, whilst her last opponent wouldn't listen, it seems neither would Alice.