[center][sup]Collab with [@tanderbolt][/sup]

[h1]MATCH 2:[/h1]

[img]http://oi64.tinypic.com/28cioe8.jpg[/img]

[img]http://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjM2LmYwNzAyNC5WbE11LjAA/fighting-spirit-turbo.regular.png[/img]

[img]https://i.imgur.com/41hE7o8.png[/img][/center]


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It was time for another match, one that would see the end of Savaka's run in the tournament. It wasn't going to be a huge spectacle, because they had to save something for the rest of the feud. Still, he wanted to make the fans feel like they saw a match that made sense, one that didn't waste their time and made them hungry for more. A couple of stretchs and some pacing while the backstage crew counted down, then he snuck out on the ramp while the thick clouds from the fog machine hung in the air. As [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DOtoIBrBAYE] his music[/url] hit and the fog cleared, Savaka stood up from his kneeling posture and walked to the ring, carrying the Intercontinental title belt on his shoulder. 

He held the belt out, not raising it high because that would seem like a bragging gesture not appropriate for a detached monk, but doing something to draw attention to it before he place it on the ring apron next to one of the turnbuckles. He climbed under the ring ropes and then clasped his hands together as he stood and waited for his opponent to enter

Speaking of bragging, the lights dimmed, and the [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gmaWy4KmeTA] music[/url] of Savaka's opponent started, building towards a crescendo until the speakers blared the words 'I AM THE ONE AND ONLY!', emphacised by fireworks, as, with his fist raised, emerged Oscar O'Sullivan, and with his head held high, a cocky grin on his face, and swagger in his step, he made his way down to the ring, basking in the boos he recieved as he did so. He slid into the ring, and faced Savaka, still grinning and posturing, as if he did not take Savaka seriously as an opponent.

The bell rang to start the match, and Savaka circled around Oscar, keeping his eyes on him and his face emotionless. He held out his arms and got closer, ready to lock up and start wrestling. Oscar responded by backing away, and laughing at the crowd as he did so as the hissed at his supposed 'cowardice'. Oh yeah, refusing to lock up with such an amazing grappler as Savaka was 'cowardice'. No, it was wrestling smart.

Once Oscar was close to the ropes, he turned, leapt straight onto the second rope, and then propelled himself towards Savaka, turning in midair and hitting him square with a dropkick. No, Oscar wasn't going to fight Savaka at his own game. He was going to fight with his own high-flying style.

Savaka took the hit from the drop kick and tumbled backwards, land on the mat. He rolled to his knees and stood himself up, but kept his stance low to the ground, inching closer to Oscar. One in range, he doves for his leg with an arm outstretched, trying to get a hold of it. Oscar slipped his leg out of Savaka's reach, and with the same leg, delivered a still looking knee to Savaka's midsection, before cicling the monk, occasionally zipping in, hitting him with a quick but inneffectual jab, and zipping out. He was clearly trying to aggrivate rather than hurt.

The strikes stung him, not enough to sell with full bump but he slowed his pace to show their effects. He got hold of one wrist and then reached for Oscar's head, pulling it down and getting him into the classic side headlock takeover.

Oscar struggled in the headlock, trying to escape, but it wasn't going to be that easy this time for him to be slippery in the monk's iron grip. Instead, he got Savaka in his own headlock, though it was so weak and loose that it was completely inneffectual. That's because he wasn't trying to apply a hold. In a fluid motion, Oscar kicked Savaka's legs from under him, tighted the headlock, and delivered a DDT. Wasting no time, he juped up to the nearest second rope, and sprang off into a Second Rope Moonsault, following that up with a cover attempt, though he didn't even get to 2 before Savaka kicked out.

After the moonsault he rolled back and forth to sell the impact, but turned one of those rolls into a smooth transition to standing up. Oscar wound up and threw a punch as soon as he was standing, but Savaka deflected with an open hand then grabbed the wrist. He twisted it into a wristlock, and Oscar rolled forward in attempt to break it. Savaka held it tight even as Oscar bridged himself off the mat to create space, and Oscar's flipping jump back to standing looked spectactular but failed to break the hold. 
 
They were close to the ropes, and Oscar saw his next move. He jumped onto the bottom rope with both feet and sprang into the air, hoping to gain height and escape. Savaka turned his back while Oscar was in mid air and pulled the arm tight, making Oscar's leap into the setup for an impressive over-the-shoulder shoulder throw and sending Oscar straight to the mat. Looming over Oscar, he clasped his hand together around the side of Oscar's head and wove a leg over Oscar's as he returned to standing, locking in the classic abdominal stretch. It was once of the oldest holds in the whole business but it looked good and had many usese, such as giving both wrestlers a breather and some time to build tension. The drama of the hold played out as the audience's chants began to build. 

Oscar sqirmed and gritted his teeth in the abdominal stretch until he was sure that the crowd had cooled down, then hooked his hand under Savaka's leg and tried to lift him into a fireman's carry, but Savaka let go before that could happen. Free, and with his back to the monk, Oscar then leapt back and hit Savaka square in the head with a pelé kick, stunning and staggering him.

The high flier then rebouded off the ropes and hit Savaka with a running european uppercut. Without stopping, he rebounded off the opposite ropes and hit Savaka with a second one. Now that he was sure his opponent was dazed, Oscar climbed the turnbuckle, and hit Savaka with a 450° splash, knocking both men to the floor. Oscar was up slightly faster than Savaka, and took advantage of this by flipping forwards, catching Savaka's neck with his legs, and delivering a Frankensteiner to the monk, before grabbing both of his legs and attempting a pin. 1...2...kickout at 2. Oscar got back to his feet and shook his head, disbelieving that this match couldn't be that easy a win. With his back to Savake, he didn't notice his foe recovering.

With both wrestlers standing, Savaka went for a collar and elbow tie-up then got Oscar into a headlock. He tightened, trying to get that across to the audience, then lifted him up for a snap suplex. It didn't have the full height of a pure vertical suplex, but it was quick move, and the perfect set up for the guillotine choke spot. After landing Savaka kept hold and Oscar sold it, mugging for the hard camera pointed at both wrestlers on their backs. 

He worked the hold and moved himself into a sitting position, holding the headlock and putting his weight on Oscar. The referee started to count a pin for a moment but Oscar got a shoulder up, and Savaka caught one of Oscar's arms with his legs. Oscars landed some stiff chops to the back of the head with his free hand, loosening the grip enough to get his other arm out. After pushing Savaka's head with both hand to create space, Oscar got to his knees and pounced on Savaka's back. 

Oscar held on and launched a flurry of activity, getting Savaka in a hammerlock and then augmenting it with a choke around the neck. He held them tight and Savaka couldn't break free, but when he began to shift position and try to bring his leg into it Savaka found an opportunity. He grabbed the leg and slipped the hammerlock, then got enough space to apply a leglock, clinging onto to it as Oscar crawled away. With Oscar's foot tucked under his armpit and his hands clasped in a praying position, he closed his eyes to play up his gimmick. When Oscar made it to the rope to break the hold, he made a show of not noticing, and the referee had to tap him on the shoulder to signal to release the hold.

While the referee was busy trying to get Savaka to reliquish the hold, Oscar looked around, and saw, in his reach, the Intercontinental Title belt, still perched on the same turnbuckle that Savaka had left it. Oscar grabbed the strap, and pulled the belt towards him, hiding it under his body.

Savaka had finally let go of Oscar's ankle, and was now advancing towards Oscar, ready to continue his offense. Unfortunately, he was walking on Oscar's left side, and the ref was on his right, so the ref didn't noticed that when Svaka bent down to pick oscar up, Oscar suddenly reared up and smacked the monk square in the face with the metal play of the title belt, and then conspiculously deposited it from the ring.

The blow knocked Savaka out cold, and the moment he landed on his back, Oscar capitalized and covered the prone technician. !...2...3! Oscar had won, and would be advancing to the semifinals! The crowd booed at this cheating scoundrel, and he just smiled and took it all in. But he wasn't done yet. Oscar slid out of the ring, picked up the IC title and was given a mic from an official.

[color=#cc00cc]"This belt...Some of you in the audience might be a little angry with me after how I treated it. And I understand. i'd feel just as angry about this prestigious title being used in so crude a manner....if this was a year ago! The truth is that Savaka has turned this title into a piece of trash. And Oscar O'Sullivan doesn't want trash! I'm aiming for the championship title that's worthy of me! I want the One! And! Only! A! W! E! World! Heavyweight! Chamipinship!"[/color]

And on that bombshell, Oscar dropped the mic, dropped the IC title and headed back up the ramp to the sound of nothing but boos and hisses, but he stopped at the ramp entrance, and with his back to the audience, raised his fist in the air. Only then, did he leave.