24/7 Championship Match - Carmen Rodriguez (C) vs. Soledad 'Sola' Vega - Wake Up Call

”Hai!”

It was a little immature, Carmen could admit it, but she could resist repeating Sola’s little power word as she flung the mouthy brat away, sending her flying thanks to the exploder suplex. She couldn’t resist. Soledad had taken so much joy in pounding her, it was only fair that she get some of the enjoyment back.

Of course, her brief burst of merriment came with a price. After she flung Sola away, Carmen crashed on her back, hurting a spine that had already seen more than its fair share of damage so far. Carmen hissed as the pains flared, reminding her of the harsh hits she’d taken. She could almost feel the same pains. The sensation of Sola’s bare foot crashing into her over and over, getting put through the chair…

Fine. She was angry. Anger was an emotion she could use.

The camera man moved in front of Carmen, trying to get a good shot of Sola on the floor, blocking the door in his haste to find a good angle. Carmen made her way to her feet and gave him a hard shove out of the way as she stomped her way into the room. She couldn’t waste a second. Soledad had earned her full attention, and she intended to make sure she regretted it.

The 24/7 got a little running start, then leaped over Sola’s body and kicked her legs out, falling back first onto the barely-covered chest of her fellow Puerto RIcan with a running senton.

Soledad might have been able to appreciate Carmen sharing some of her pain after that exploder suplex, if she herself hadn't been in so much agony that she couldn't even open her eyes. Instead, she was left arching her back on the cool gym floor, the barest hints of tears pushing out of her eyes.

Sola choked it back, as best she could. She'd been hurt worse, she told herself. She'd get hurt worse again, right? There was a goal, she had a task to finish, here! Sola had been so close to getting her hands on that title belt, almost starting her AFW career with a title win! Sola grit her teeth, thinking about how big a deal it would be, to go from dirt-poor Puerto Rican street fighter to champion in an international promotion.

All after telling daddy's fed to screw off. And now she was going to lie here, and let that go?

"Hhhh," Soledad hissed, slowly trying to let herself down out of her highly-arched bridge. She opened her eyes just a bit, just enough to see the cameraman leering over her in her moment of vulnerability. "Auugh," she groaned, tucking her head hang in for a moment, hoping that the AFW fanboys hadn't been getting too good a peek at the self-proclaimed future 24/7 Champion. Tossing her hair back, Soledad lifted her head ... just in time to see Carmen come charing in.

"NO!" Sola cried out, as Carmen went flying over her. The Puerto Rican's eyes went wide with terror, watching the veteran kick forward and come down toward her hard. "Aaaarrrggghh!" Soledad screamed, as Carmen's toned body came crashing down on her hard and fast. Sola's vulnerable chest was compressed hard, driving the wind out of her. "Uhn," she grunted, coughing and clutching her chest as she rolled over protectively to her front.

The landing certainly sucked for Soledad, but it was hardly pleasant for Carmen, either. As battered as her midsection was, there was hardly any way to avoid the pain from this move. Even if she did hit was she was intending to, her opponent was a small target but not nescessarily a soft one.

She was prepared for it. As prepared for it as she could be, really. She was already cringing before she even hit it.

”Grrr…” Carmen stifled a scream as she landed flush on Soledad’s chest, nailing the move and probably waking up some of her neighbors in the process. Judging from the sound of Soledad’s cries, it was quite effective. It was almost sad to hear the young luchadora’s wails - they sounded so desperate, so pitiful. She couldn’t be sure in the shadowed room, but there might have been tears. If it wasn’t for the fact that Sola had attacked Carmen in her own home, broken her possessions and gleefully laughed the entire time, she might’ve felt bad about it.

As it was, though, hammering her into the floor was not only worth all the pain, but emotionally gratifying. Also, it put her in a good position to capitalize, which she did with gusto.

Carmen reached around, grabbed Soledad’s shoulder and slammed her onto the floor. With both her shoulders touching the floor, she shuffled over and dropped her chest on top of her fellow Puerto Rican’s admittedly more impressive set, going for the pin.

The referee, who’d just shuffled her way into the room, dropped down and started the count up. ”1…!”

Soledad bit her lip, trying to stifle any more sounds of pain or frustration. Her face reddened, as she realized how pathetic she had to sound right now. She was showing off more than her curves to that damn camera man- she'd been showing weakness. Sola could only imagine how different she must look now, from the woman who'd barged into Carmen's own home and nearly wrenched that 24/7 championship out of the legendary fighter's hands.

That slip in persona burned at the young Vega, as she massaged her aching body. Carmen's senton had winded her, left her aching and sore- and now, the veteran was going to capitalize! Carmen slid over her, her toned figure pressing Sola into the floor for a pinfall!

"AAAH!" Soledad cried out, as soon as she realized what was happening. Bracing her feet against the cool floor, she bucked her strong hips, and bridged out of the pinfall as soon as the ref's hand was coming down for the "two." "D-damn ..." she said, panting heavily as she rolled over to rest on her shoulder.

There would be not chance to really rest, Sola knew. Carmen was on the offensive now, there was no way that senton was all she had in her. Mustering up all that humiliation that she was feeling, channeling it into her already-mounting frustration, Sola took a deep breath and lashed out.

"Perra!" she said, shouting the word as she lashed out with her arm, Sola went to deliver a simple slap, hard and fast right across Carmen's face. Not terribly punishing, but hopefully shocking enough to create some distance between the two women while Sola tried to recover.

Carmen wasn’t too surprised when Soledad kicked out of the senton. It was a good move, but not something she’d ever gotten a win with before.

She was surprised when the lithe luchadora kicked out before the referee could even get to two, however. Not because she didn’t get the win, but because it was a clear sign her opponent was still ahead in terms of damage, and that this match would take more, much more, to finish.

Annoying. Even more annoying when she glanced at the clock, reading hot, red digital letters in the darkness. 1:34 AM.

”Of all the stupid-” She’d just began to sit up and go back on the attack, when she was greeted by a slap across the face. Not a punch. Not an elbow. A full contact slap, landing right on the cheek and jerking her head to the side. Stinging pain, the kind that woke Carmen right up.

When her face wheeled back around, the heated look on her face told it all. The way she retaliated shouldn’t have came as a surprise.

She made her way up to one knee, reeled back and brought her hand down for a slap of her own. Not across Soledad’s face, either - no, Carmen targeted the wide-open chest that her opponent seemed so eager to flaunt. "Puta!"

Sola shook her head, still trying to work past the pain. The frustration, however, she was keeping hold of. Carmen had come back to life, it seemed, after what should have been a sure-fire victory. Soledad told herself she shouldn't have expected it to be so easy. What the hell ever had been, for her?

Still, from the sound of Carmen's voice, Sola's kick-out and subsequent slap had frustrated her. A chink in the champion's armor? Grinning, Soledad pushed herself upward. Still aching from the exploder suplex to the cold, hard gym floor, she wasn't going to be able to get right back to her feet. But, if it meant that she could get a couple more shots in at Carmen, then that was motivation enough for the youthful Puerto Rican to at least get her ass off the floor, and back into the brawl.

Turning her head up at the very last second, Sola caught just a flash of motion, before Carmen brought a strike of her own back down on her. The chop sounded loudly off of Soledad's ample chest, the slap of flesh echoing a bit in the gym. "AAAHHHH!" Sola hissed, bringing a clenched fist defensively over her chest.

"Ahh," she gasped, before giving a humourless laugh. This was how the champion wanted to play things, huh? This, Sola thought, might actually be a bit more her speed. Turning her shoulder inward, Sola released the fist, reeled back with her hand, and returned fire. With a quick, wide-open palm, the teen street fighter swung a chop hard, square for Carmen's own chest, looking to answer chop for chop!

That hurt.

Not just Soledad, but Carmen felt the sting, as it left a sensation on her palm like she was grasping a handful of nettles. It wasn’t her usual flair - being honest, punching the little brat would’ve been a far better use of her arm’s energy. But, given the way this all started and was continuing to go, she couldn’t help but feeling the need to give back as she’d been given.

Of course, that did open her up for appropriate retaliation, which came her way not long after.

Carmen had just started rise up even further when Sola’s chop sliced across her bare chest, hitting so hard it nearly knocked the strap off her bra. She had to clench her teeth hard to keep the scream in, and the pain played out on her face all the same. It was too dark to see, but Carmen was certain that it would leave a mark, even on her tanned skin.

Again, then. Carmen straightened her hand out flat, swung her arm out and let the edge of her fingers slice across Sola’s chest, aiming just a little lower than before, but still targeting the flesh.

Starting to rouse herself off of the floor, Soledad began shaking her hands. She trembled, trying to force a surge of strength that would being her off her knees, and back up to a proper vertical base. Before she could make that last surge, however, Carmen came down on her hard with yet another chop, trained hand striking soundly across Sola's soft chest.

"Aaah!" Soledad cried out, grimacing. Her cheeks flushed red with anger, her chest reddened from the impact. Anger proved to be just as important as any other kind of motivation, here, as Soledad surged upward and forward. Instead of simply getting up, however, Sola moved forward.

Hand reeling up once again, the street fighter reeled her hand back, and unloaded with another harsh chop aimed squarely for Carmen's chest. Sola didn't just want to hurt the veteran, here, she wanted to punish her. Soledad went for volume, here, wanting the open-palm strike to echo through the halls of Carmen's spacious, impressive apartment. She wanted to hear flesh on flesh sounding out, at the impact. More than that, however, Soledad wanted to hearr the champion's cry of pain.

Carmen was starting to see why Army liked doing chops so much. Not that effective, but when it came to punishing opponents and inflicting humiliating pain, the only better thing would be hitting them with a whip. Particularly when they had such blatant and buoyant targets to hit.

She kept working her way up, getting to wobbly feet now. She saw the flash coming. She knew what it would be. All the same, she took Soledad’s chop, letting it slice her across the chest. Not wise, but it was a matter of pride, now, and they both had more than enough of it to go around. This snotty little woman drank her milk, for Christ's sakes.

”Bitch…” She growled under her breath as she turned to the side. Hurt. Stinging. Angrier and angrier by the second.

She wasn’t going to back off. Not now, not like this. She summoned her resolved and swung around more, retaliating with another fiery chop to the chest, leaning into it for some added bite.

Soledad's entire upper body, from her shoudlers to her abdomen, was heaving. Her chest was aching like hell, but she was pushing through it on sheer adrenaline. Once again, Carmen's hand slashed across Sola's sensitive chest, lashing her with pain, feeling like nails dragging across her skin and drawing another cry of pain from the youthful street fighter.

"DAMN!" she cried out. Squaring her shoudlers, Sola bit her lip and refused to show any further pain. She and Carmen were fully engaged in a contest of chops, now, neither woman willing to give an inch to her rival. And Sola was going to be damned, if she'd allow herself to be the one to give ground, now.

Reeling back, Sola let loose with another chop. Pivoting at her wide hips, Sola put the full force of her entire body behind the swing. The sound of her open palm striking across Carmen's chest would echo through the gym, as she brought her strike down with force!

"You like that, puta? Huh?" Sola spat the words, voice rising to match the volume of her chop. Projecting her shoulders forward, the latina street fighter was practically presenting her chest in full to Carmen, daring her to keep matcher her, blow-for-blow.