Diana Accera vs. Armando 'Army' Rodriguez - You're Going Down

In Army’s mind, this was all locked up. It was just a matter of throwing the right moves at the right time, then going home to throw back a few drinks while he watched the game. Not a problem.

Diana’s actions didn’t do much to force that idea out of his mind, either. He expected her to do something desperate or smart - maybe backpedal and walk her silly butt right into the corner, maybe do some kind of roll to get out of the way. Something any female wrestler with a lick of sense would’ve done in her situation.

Not Diana Accera. She just came right on.

Flesh met flesh with an audible clap as their two bodies collided, and Army immediately got the better of it, forcing his haughty foe back. And down. While she shot her leg against his chest, and-

”Shit!”

A lone curse was all Army had time for as he was flung up and over, coming down right on his back. Didn’t hurt all that much, but his pride took a nasty hit. In a match like this, that was important.

He rolled back to his feet, spun around, and came back her way at full tilt, this time extending his arm to try and catch with a fierce lariat.

If Diana had even the majority of her wits about her rather than having a head full of razor wire and troubled thoughts, the technical Italian would of tried to throw Army over her hips, judo style. She wasn't fully trained in the art of course, but she knew the basics, apparently much like half the AFW roster. Such a move would of allowed Diana to of course straight on top and seize control, but no. She opted to make Army fly.

Swinging back up somewhat quicker than her stockier foe, all her quick rise accomplished was throw her body smack bang into a rearing lariat. Again, smart Diana would of opted differently, trying to hook under Army for the backwards result.

Instead, she took it. Albeit with arms in the way.

The lariat smashing against her arms with such a force that her forearms were briefly forced to mushroom her chest, Diana was knocked back, to put it lightly. Stumbling halfway across the ring, the Italian would let out a grunt of anger reminisce of an ape, before she opted to fall to her back and roll directly under the ropes behind her, aided by the momentum of the tank-like hit. She was pissed, and being forced across the ring much like the time she butted heads with Tomko herself, it didn't help.

Standing on her feet with hands to her hips on the outside, the Italian fumed. To the crowd, it appeared that the sheer force of Army's lariat had forced the woman near ten metres back. In reality, it was only mostly true. Her frustration and anger came to bear as she was allowed a brief respite, pacing the outside like a woman possessed, before venting it somewhat in a nasty shove kick to the nearby metal stairs, of course with the addition of profanity.

"Fu..FUCK..!"

The lariat. Army was a little annoyed he had to bring this one out so early, but maybe it wasn’t that bad of a thing. Diana was tough, he’d have to throw some heavy artillery at her, but this was a good chance to show what he could really do. He didn’t like to admit, but the Italian had held her own and even defeated some impressive opponents, so beating her decisively would raise his stock a bit.

With that in mind, he put a little extra oomph into his lariat. He got a result, too - not quite what he expected, but he’d take it.

He let out a good laugh as Diana went tumbling out, the force pushing her right out of the ring. He would’ve liked it better if he’d have just knocked her down, given him something to work with, but this had some perks, too. For starters, there was plenty of potential to piss off the already-pissed-off Italian even more.

Instead of following her outside, Army made a big show of dusting off his hands and leisurely strolling across the ring, while the referee started up her count on Diana. He hopped up on the top turnbuckle, stretched his legs out, and laid back on the ropes like it was a hammock, letting out an over-the-top yawn to put the cherry on top. ”Anytime you’re ready, starshorts!” He taunted from across the ring, waving her way and smiling along with it.

Pacing from the outside, given time to cool off, Diana still did nothing of the sort. Her eyes rolled to the steps she just pushed, to the crowd briefly, to finally back to Army himself. She'd let out a huge breath of frustration, as the referee's count already made its way close to halfway point. The state she was in, she'd be frustrated but eventually she'd calm down. A count out loss minutes into a match? She'd be frustrated for life.

Stepping onto the ring apron near the turnbuckle, she'd pace along the side of the ring, hands to rope, eyes not leaving Army. Once dead centre of either turnbuckle, she'd step through, as ever inadvertently erotically, given her toned yet busty figure being clad in an outfit that simply left nothing to imagination.

Once in, her hands would shoot straight up into boxer stance, with right leg back, right hand doing similar. With that, she'd step, not majorly close to Army, instead opting to feel up the area around him, and perhaps more importantly, encourage him to make the first move.

Wow, Diana was taking her time outside of the ring. Army thought she’d be down there for a second or two, but instead she was seriously pushing the referee’s count. He was actually getting some legitimate rest on the turnbuckle. ”Hey!” Army called out her way and threw his hands up. ”You forget about the match? Hello?”

Army would’ve take a count out win just fine, but he would’ve preferred it happen on his own terms, not just because DIana threw a hissy fit. What was more, he could’ve used a solid win on his record. Count-outs meant jack shit.

So, when Diana came into the ring, he eagerly dropped back down to face her. That faltered somewhat when he saw the stance she took up.

”Really?” He had a half-laugh and shook his head, watching as she took up a decent boxing stance. ”You want to swap fists with me? Okay, lady.”

Her funeral. Army just shrugged and got his own guard up, moving into striking range with sure feet and tensed muscles. When he got close, he jumped in and threw a hard right cross, looking to test her guard and see just how solid it was.

Diana was resting too though, but somewhat inadvertently, as she simply left the ring to clear her head rather than draw precious breaths.

Soon enough though, given space by her foe, or more simply a lack of charge by Army upon immediate re-entry, Diana's feet were flat on the ring canvas once more. Her left leg extended more so slightly than her right, as her frame assumed a boxing stance practised in a fighting federation eons ago. Even though she was right handed, she preferred to keep said arm back, meaning she wouldn't have as much closeness as she would otherwise for those snappy jabs. But that was the point. She didn't want snappy jabs. She wanted wound up hooks and uppercuts, that would make Army think twice about calling the Italian 'lady.'

Learning from the lariat moments ago of the sheer power of her foe, Diana knew that even a perfectly executed boxing block would gain her no advantage, as she saw that right arm come swinging in at what felt to be air shattering speeds, with of course the power to boot. Rather this time, she'd again throw caution to the wind, but more of a high-risk high-rewards fashion, rather than simply taking a direct shot from a powerhouse.

Tilting her head low, she'd try as she would to rush under that hook as it flew in. From there, she'd extend her right leg, pulling herself fully under the arm, ideally the hook flying clean past her head and back as she ducked under. Her left then following, the amazon would straighten up as quickly as she could if she managed to get clear and unscathed, not only rising but coming off her feet via her left leg pushed-left arm extending, as the Italian went for a superman-esque punch clean to the jaw!

Army was not really sure what was going through Diana’s head, or if there was anything going through it at all.

He had the reach on her. Not so much the speed, but she clearly wasn’t a tap dancer in the ring or anything. The power advantage was all him, though, and his striking power was on a pro level. He’d been in Tension a while, thought it had been firmly established that the Rodriguez clan ruled the roost when it came to fists, but apparently Diana didn’t get that memo.

Not a problem. He’d educate her.

Army swung, hard and fast and true, expecting Diana’s head to be thoroughly rocked by his masterclass blow. Instead, he got nothing but air.

She ducked. A good one, too. Where’d she pull that one from?

He had no real time to ponder, as Diana immediately went on the offense. He looked up in time to see a fist flying towards his face, coming in a strange but effective high angle, landing with impressive force, even more than he’d expected from her with a body like that. Army was forced to stagger away, backpedaling all the way to the turnbuckle. He hit it hard and wound up slumping against the corner, shaking his head to clear out some cobwebs. He’d be fine, just needed a couple of seconds.

Maybe more.

Make no mistake, Diana's manoeuvre was equally parts impressive and pure dumb. If her head had but been an inch higher as Army's fist swung in, she would not of only been struck square in the face with it, but in fact added to it by moving in towards it. Would she have been knocked out? At least.

Still, Diana didn't have time to lament on risky or stupid manoeuvres, as the duck not only managed to save her body from a hard strike, but set her up for the counter. Letting loose a fierce howl as she turned airborne, Diana's strike connected exactly where it needed to, to make the point she so sought after.

Landing on her feet, body turning quickly towards her stumbling foe, her face still held it's vicious glare even though the man before her stumbled loosely, before finding his feet with back to the corner. Her own left palm momentarily but near completely numb from the clean strike, Diana knew another boxing offensive wasn't on the cards if she wanted to keep this particular lion cornered.

Rather, she'd burst forward, hands to her side to aid in the running manoeuvre, as the Italian closed the distance. When she did, she'd suddenly jolt up with both feet, bringing her own upper body straight back. This opposed to a somewhat sideways backwards lean as one would to execute a dropkick, Diana was instead aiming for a mighty and forceful double push kick-esque attack, to use the turnbuckle itself against Army.

The crowd had been a little hesitant to get behind either of the two wrestlers, right from the start. Army had some fans, but his career had taken ups and downs since he started, and he seemed to be on the audience’s bad side just as much as he was on the good. On top of that, it was always hard to be the good guy when you were taking on a smaller woman, which he typically was.

Diana never seemed to give a single care about how the crowd perceived her, and while she’d had some great matches, wasn’t someone they were used to rooting for. Especially in Tension.

When she leaped up and tagged Army in the face, though, the audience immediately swung her way and cheered, going towards her favor. An impressive move, and the Amazon war cry she bellowed just help cement the whole moment.

Army was less than thrilled, however, what with him being on the receiving end.

More than a little groggy, he started to move out of the corner, instinctively knowing it was a bad place to be. The problem was that Diana clearly knew that, too.

He’d only gotten about three feet out before she rushed to meet him and turned herself into a human missile, launching her bare feet straight as his chest. The blow connected flat on her pecs and knocked him off his feet like a shotgun blast, sending him crashing into the turnbuckle.

The ring shook, the crowd cheered, and Army wound up plopping down on his ass, sitting in the corner while he cradled his aching chest.

Even the hardest nosed of heels in wrestling couldn't help but feel some form of rush when the crowd called in their favour, even if it was for a moment. And surely enough, Diana couldn't deny the rush she felt when her relatively flawless combo hit Army perfectly. The momentum was hers, surely, but you can't let someone like Army even cover up or breathe for a second, a fact Diana new.

Pulling herself to her knees firmly, hand rubbing the point in her back that was experiencing slight discomfort from just landing on the canvas, Diana opted to slow things down but by no means take a break.

Standing, she'd follow her foe into the corner, hands clutching the top ropes before she'd extend her right leg. She'd be curious to see if the crowd still roared in her favour, as she executed an atypical heel manoeuvre; the corner foot choke!