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

There Army sat, leaning against the turnbuckle, taking a quick little siesta in the corner. He had a headache to deal with, that was a load of fun, and his chest felt like it had been caved in. Diana kicked like a damn mule.

But he was okay. He was fine, he’d come back from worse. He just needed a couple of seconds to get back up. That was all.

Well, too bad, because Diana wasn’t going to give it to him.

A corner foot choke would’ve been bad enough from just about anyone, but the fact that Diana opted for the barefoot approach made it worse, in Army’s opinion. It didn’t hurt anymore, but it was a lot more humiliating to have her foot and all the dirt it had picked up along the ring shoved into his throat. Also, the inability to breath was a bit distressing.

Army kicked and squirmed in the corner, thrashing about in a frenzied attempt to get free, or at least catch some air. The crowd, for their part, threw some boos Diana’s way, though a chunk of them just seemed to like her more - there was always a strong section of Tension fans that loved to see women beating up men, no matter the situation.

If Army had the leverage, he could of easily twisted or shoved Diana's leg with all the force that would have come naturally to him, had he even been on his knees let alone standing. But alas, he did not. Which was near entirely why Diana went for such a move, where she was for a moment or two essentially giving her foot to her foe. She certainly wouldn't of gone for it if Army had the posture for a grapple.

Pulling via the ropes, Diana would force her notable figure down hard near solely on her foes throat, making sure to balance herself in case of a sudden forceful push on her free leg. The referee becoming near as hostile as some members of the crowd, Diana would make sure to use every second given to her by the rules to press the wind out of Army.

"1...2...3...Comeon Diana...Let it up!...4!..."

A sudden break would make sure Army didn't gain the DQ win, but not before the irate Italian took the time to scrape what grime had attached itself to her heel on Army's upper chest, much to the chagrin of most of the crowd, the referee, and of course most likely Army himself. As Diana took but a few steps back, she'd latch eyes on her prey, almost examining to see just how much life she just pressed out of him, albeit not without a taunt.

"Get up...you lame fuck..." Her rage, still very much apparent.

Army was starting to seriously hate Diana. Not just dislike, actively hate.

It was bad enough that she rammed her toes in his throat and choked the life out of him. Army was thrashing about on the floor, kicking up a storm, fighting for his very life, and all while this cold, vengeful harpy of a woman stared down at him.

That sucked, but the referee kept it from getting too bad. He only had to put up with it for a few seconds. But then, Diana just had to pour a little salt on it.

”-the fuck?!” Army twisted away as she rubbed her foot against his chest, leaving the dust and dirt where it passed. Not a move, nothing to really hurt him, just a little thing to piss him off. And it worked.

It was an awkward stumble to get back to his feet, mostly because Army insisted on doing it so damn fast while he was still oxygen starved and coughing. But he rose up and immediately went into a charge, rushing Diana and throwing a wild right hook at her chest, using the blow to spreadhead his assault.

Diana couldn't help but feel smug, as she had not only gained momentarily the literal high ground against her downed foe, but the psychological one. Simply put, it was never good for the pride of some big muscle bound AFW veteran to be dropped on his ass by a woman. Not to mention using his chest as a doormat.

Her foe stumbling to his feet, Diana could see it in her foes eyes the level of pure hate and anger building in Army. It was easy to relate; she herself was still on the brim of exploding.

Somewhat expecting a caution-to-the-wind approach from her pissed off foe, Diana was somewhat caught off guard by the pure speed of her foe, somewhat sensing that the monstrous desire to tear the head off the woman who just smeared her foot-dirt on his chest fuelled her foe. And again, that possibly career threatening hook found it's way swinging in.

With the momentum behind Army, simply stepping back would gain Diana nothing. Ducking again? Army wouldn't fall for it twice. Rather, Diana would bring her arms up to her sides momentarily, before actually stepping into the rushing brute, grunting as his much stronger figure collided, instantly looking for that boxer style clinch.

"Am I fucking getting to you...huh?" She'd grunt, in a pissed off tone herself as she struggled to even continue with her staunch posture against the hard figure that was Army.

Yeah, Army was pissed, but if Diana thought that would make him an easy mark, he’d gladly prove her wrong. Maybe he was a little sloppier. Wilder. But he was hitting harder, and he had a sledgehammer of a punch to start with.

One good hit. All he needed.

Of course, he had to score that hit in the first place to drop her, and she was doing a surprisingly good job of staying one step ahead of him. Ripping out another page from the boxing playbook, she came in close and avoided his haymaker altogether, bringing him in for an embrace he would’ve loved if it didn’t involve a bitch he utterly loathed.

”Not even close.” He muttered and pressed their foreheads together, trying hard not to think of the fact that she and Carmen probably embraced like this in a much less competitive way all the time. Instead, he focused on making this whole setup a very big mistake on Diana’s part.

She was close. Close, with him, was typically a bad thing.

He struggled in the clinch for a moment, wrestling around with her, waltzing around the ring. It all came to a sudden stop when he brought his head back and jerked it forward, slamming his forehead into the center of her face with a vicious headbutt. Illegal in boxing. Normal in wrestling.

Locking the hold, to Diana's chagrin now that she was close with the bigger man, she simply didn't have a further plan. A figure such as Army's couldn't be grappled easily, not without the moment against him, and at this distance the best Diana could pull off was but a rabbit punch. She didn't even consider trying yet another monkey flip, somewhat believing that Army would read her number and turn the scenario completely against her.

Locking, she'd bare her Italian whites nonetheless, her eyes as serious as ever as she locked with a figure she shouldn't of locked with. Luckily, it didn't last for long.

Unluckily for Diana, was the way in which it ended.

Forehead connecting roughly to forehead, Diana would immediately release her clinch, stumbling halfway across the ring before coming to a stop. Hand to her forehead, the burning sensation suggested the figure before her had drawn blood. Luckily, such wasn't the case. Her other hand out in the wind unsure what to do with itself, she couldn't help but somewhat literally roar at Army, in both pained frustration and outright anger.

It was a small surprise, but hitting Diana with a headbutt hurt Army almost as much as it surely hurt Diana. She had hard head, after all. Figuratively and literally. They both drank a lot of milk, it seemed.

He staggered after she released him and did the same, hurting, but there was a clear smile on his face, wild and dangerous. There was space between them now, and Army could make that work well in his favor.

He did a quick hop then rushed forward, going back on the attack. She probably expected a punch or a lariat to come her way, and that would be a good guess. There’d be more than a few of both happening before he was through.

But not this time.

This time, Army brought her leg up and shot his foot out high as he charged, looking to plant his heel square in the middle of her chest and knock her flat.

The only solace Diana could take in the manoeuvre as of course the fact that the headbutt shall and will always be, a double edged sword of an attack. Army was recoiling slightly from the attack itself, but of course not even close to the level of numbing Diana's forehead had just reached. After all, why else would you headbutt someone if it wasn't going to hurt them more?

Diana didn't have time to lament on what damage her foe received, as Army appeared to want another piece of the Italian. Bringing her arms up and crossed in a standard but hastily applied defence, Diana wouldn't be able to resist being outright stomped to the floor, albeit taking away some of the force from it. She didn't even want to consider the world of pain she'd be in if she took the full blow.

Now flat on her back, her head would arch up as she let loose a mild scream, before settling back. The boot still on her crossed arms, Diana would try as she might to shove her wrists up. But it was a momentarily weakened Italian on her back against a muscle bound AFW veteran with all his weight behind it. Needless to say, she was struggling.

While Army wasn’t known for his legendary flexibility or his masterful kicks, he’d been working on them both, especially since his kickboxing cousin started staying with them. The result was a moveset that was growing all the time. He wouldn’t be throwing out superkicks or moonsaults anytime soon, but he had more surprises up his nonexistant sleeves than when he started wrestling.

Also, booting Diana in the chest was just so damn fun. The sound it made, the look on her face, that weak, squeaky cry she made...just perfect.

He kept the boot planted against her chest and smiled down her way, keeping her pinned under his heel. The audience, fickle as ever, gave him some boos now, but ignoring the crowd was another skill he’d picked up in the AFW. Didn’t bother him. ”For the record?" He smirked and pressed down, riding out her struggles "I’m a great fuck.”

With that cleared up, Army jump straight up, kicked his legs out, and came falling down on Diana’s chest with his extended, crashing down on her with a sharp elbow drop.

Diana was pinned, to say the least. Her legs could kick, sure, her arms? Free as possible. But if Army nudged his foot up even slightly the direction of her shoulders, the Italian would of struggled noticeably to escape the pin, considering her shoulders would be down.

To her luck however, Army was more after impact than a match end, continuing to press down long after the foot connected. The Italian's eyes would widen; her face not changing a inch since she was already exhibiting maximum glare, as her foe threw her a statement regarding his skill in bed.

Before she had chance to muster the breath for what was to be expected to be an atypical pissed-off-Diana response, Army was airborne, thanks in part to pushing Diana's rib-cage back into itself briefly. Wincing, Diana expected worse to follow given a frame that big exhuming force to shove off the ground. And eyes widening after realising just what such worse was, she was determined not to be a part of it.

Rather than try to cover up and counter the moment Army hit, she'd opt for a simpler defence. She simply rolled. Pulling herself in the opposite direction of the majority of her foes body, Diana would turn onto her front before again rolling onto her back, praying she was fast enough to avoid complete impact. If not, she might of just turned her frame into yet another monstrous blow.