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

There were probably a lot of moves Army could've done from the supine position he had Diana pinned with. Submission moves, head locks, he could’ve even caved her face in with a stomp if he'd been feeling particularly vicious. He certainly wouldn’t put it past Diana to do the same if the positions were reversed.

But he was a simple guy, so he went for a simple move. And immediately paid for it.

Army came down hard on one of his two best weapons, landing right on the funny bone and sending an electric pain throughout his arm. He howled, a hoarse, harsh sound, and rolled over to his side, cradling his arm while he hissed at the pain. Nothing broken, but the whole thing was quickly going numb. Not a good sign.

”Shit…” He flopped over to his chest and started pushing up, planting his good hand on the floor for support as he rose.

Anyone who'd even viewed a Diana Accera bout or fight, knew that, whether the Italian herself would of admitted it or not, she would of gone for similar style assault on her downed foe had their scenarios been reversed. Sure, Army could exert so much more force and weight than the Italian. But what could be more detrimental to your moral than a woman pressing you to the floor with a single leg?

Now with space between them Diana had some time to breathe. Somehow, through the great levels of stress and anger she was exerting, she managed to apply a smidgen of logic and clever thought. Her foe was essentially a stronger stockier version of herself. Diana simply had to imagine what style of opponent she wouldn't fare well against, if she were of the size that Army was, and with such logic applied, the answer became blatantly obvious. Hit and run.

With hand to the red foot shaped mark on her chest, the Italian would rise, not even turning her head to check her foes ring presence, keeping them solely on the ropes before her. Bursting forward, she'd make up for her injured state and thus inability to exert full strength and speed by recoiling off the ropes before her, allowing the ring itself to do the work for her.

Returning to her foe, much like Army had done but a second ago, Diana would resort to the simple. No flash leap, no amazing flip, certainly no attempt at tackling her foe to the ground.

But a step away, she'd simply extend her right leg-aiming to smash the wind out of her iron foe with a soccer kick straight to Army's ribs.

Get up, Army.

Getting up would be a really good idea.

Any time now.

Army tried one attempt to push his way up, then utterly failed and plopped down. His right arm, his best arm, was hurting something fierce, and dealing the agony took a bit out of him. His arm was still functional, feeling and sensations were about to make its triumph return, but he still needed a minute or two to really recover. Knowing Diana, she would make that minute suck as much as physically possible.

For now, he focused on getting back to his feet. One foot on the canvas, one knees beside it, pushing up with her remaining good, looking to see what Diana was doing while he rose.

Oh, there she was, running at him like a madwoman, with her leg flying through the air. Great.

Her kicked connected, right on target, and Army was sent flying and flopping down on his back, grasping his aching chest. Definitely felt like she’d cracked something with that blow. Maybe a rib or two.

Whatever the case, he was laying on his back while he dealt, taking another short pause before he tried to sit up again...

You should wear boots in your matches Diana, atleast thin ones. They'll help prevent some of the sting.

No. I don't need protection.

I hope you don't regret it.

A conversation with an AFW official upon her signing up to the company sprung to mind but a second after Diana's barefoot connected with the iron figure partially prone on the mat. She might of taken the wind out of Army's sails for the time being, but it only became apparent just after the leg connected just how much of a double edged sword of an assault a barefoot soccer kick was on the veterans frame.

Not that she'd ever show it.

Bringing her foot softly back down once connecting, Diana would try as she might to resist letting loose a pained wince, as her eyes shot to the ceiling trying to contain such. She needed a moment, to adjust to the sting-but even a second given to Army could spell outright disaster for the woman altogether. And the Italian was certainly done talking to the Puerto Rican powerhouse.

Mostly hopping on her non stinging foot, Diana would attempt to gain the position behind Army as he rose to a sit-up posture. The moment he did, Diana would drop, hugging her right around his chin in the aptly named chin lock. She certainly wouldn't be forcing a submission from her foe; but with her weight behind it, even a figure as strong as Army would hopefully struggle to force himself up quickly. Such time would be pivotal to Diana's prime leg returning to form.

This whole thing was turning bad for Army in a hurry. Not to the point where a comeback is impossible, but it would take a while. He’d need to get a moment to recuperate, bare minimum, and Diana...well, she reminded her of Carmen, in the way that she wasn’t the type to spend too much of her fighting time on anything that didn’t involve inflicting pain. Could kind of see how they got along.

He was just starting to sit up when Diana descending on, wrapping a toned, powerful arm around his head with the chinlock. It wasn’t exactly a killer submission move, but it was keeping him weighed, slowing his rise. Probably the whole point.

Still, he was determined to stand again, and she wasn’t about to stop him. Army began working his way up, struggling against the hold as he continued upwards. A little higher, a little higher, a little higher still, more and more...

When match moments like this were put in perspective, how often could you actually recall someone lost to a headlock/chinlock?

The point quickly realised by her powerful foe, it didn't matter to Diana nonetheless; she had Army. And she was getting extra time off because of it. What could of been a quick rise was turned into a slow crawl with an Italian amazon to his back. What could of been a kick off the ground would instead be forcing her grip off. You get the idea.

Her leg far from 100%, the redness from kicking essentially a slab of solid meat still apparent, Diana would be forced to roll on nonetheless, as her foe gained positioning high enough to warrant concern.

No taunt was given in response. No teeth bared because her foe dared rise. Just bad intentions forming in that Italian mind.

Her current position being the straight leaning post for her foe to press against as he rose, his head in somewhat literally, the palm of her hand, Diana opted for a sudden release, letting the big man stand.

Was she being kind? Perhaps going soft?

Not on your life.

The moment her arm finished unhooking from that thick block-like head, Diana would pivot onto her closest foot, performing a small spinning motion onto her closest foot, gaining a small bit of distance from her foe, but most notably, turning to face him. Once then, she'd respond with a move so dastardly, so ruthless and cunning, that Diana was certain her foe would remember it long past the match was done.

She straight up punched him. Right on the nose.

When Army first joined the AFW, he did some wrestling research - nowhere near as much as he should have, but enough to pick up on some subtle quirks. In particular, he’d been wondering why the wrestlers liked using things like chinlocks and headlocks and moves that never seemed to really win matches. It just seemed like they were wasting time, stretching the match out long past its due date. Why bother?

Well, now that he was trapped in one, he could see the point a lot better. It was annoying, for one thing, and it was forcing Army to waste energy he didn’t have to waste, all while Diana traded little in return. She was effectively sapping his energy, and it was a process he wanted to get out of. ASAP.

So it was good that Diana seemed to want the same thing. Good...and surprising. But not quite as surprising as what she followed up with.

He’d just got through spinning about when she gave him a plain punch, right on the center of his face, striking the nose hard. He stepped back, wrinkled his face up in surprised, then glared right back at her.

It was like that? Okay.

He straight up punched her in the face, too. Also, right on the nose.

Had she had her full wits about her? A cheek shot surely, to try and snap the veterans head back and forth. Or at least one to the chest, to try and take some of the fuel of her tank-like opponent. In this state? She wanted to apparently break something. Or make Army cry. Or both.

Not even taking a moment to smile from landing the strike exactly how she would, Diana simply stood, firmly as a tower with her posture relatively moderate. Had she been watching herself in the match, she would of screamed at the T.V set.

For fucks sake Diana, at least push him now that he's wincing. He's gonna hit back even harder.

And surely enough, Diana didn't push.

And surely enough, Army hit back. Even harder.

The larger fist briefly covering up the skin on Diana's face, the Italian woman would struggle to contain the water in her eyes as the strike connected, immediately stepping back and bringing hands up to her face. Nothing was broken, thankfully, and of course there was no blood. But Diana swore she heard a brief click; the sort you'd hear when pushing cartilage too firmly, or stretching a body part that had been docile for hours. Not that it was at all as satisfying as the latter.

Both hands to her face, eyes clenched but not completely shut, it was only in Diana's pain that she figured her foe wouldn't be so stupid as to lose out on a chance for a continued offensive. Rather, if he wanted to get close, she'd try to cost him.

Suddenly rotating her body full back in Army's direction, the Italian would throw complete caution to the wind, as both feet left for Army's head at the same time, upper body going backwards and sideways. If all went to plan, with mostly luck given her somewhat stifled vision, Diana would connect at least to Army's upper body with a shoddy enzui-guri; neither bringing leg up to balance herself on her foe before hand nor aiming precisely for her head. Diana just wanted something to goddamn hit right now.

There was Diana. Standing proud and tall, with that same smug, bitchy look that seemed to be perpetually be etched on her face. A look like that was practically begging to be punched, man or woman. So Army did the natural thing and gave Diana what she was asking for.

No style. No class. Nothing fancy. Just a straight blow to the face.

It had the typical effect, though Diana took it better than many people would’ve. Few non-boxers really knew what it was like to take a punch on the face with real regularity, but she handled it like a champ. About as well as you could handle that sort of thing.

Didn’t mean he wouldn’t take advantage of that, though.

Army pounced and lunged after, closing in fast with his fist drawn and his muscles tense. A right hook. A hell of a right hook. The kind of punch that would put some people flat on their ass for a long time if it hit.

Only, in this case, it did happen. Before Army had the chance, his neck was reintroduced to Diana’s foot. Her kick hit him in the side of his throat and the reaction was immediate - he cried out, fell to his knees, and furiously rubbed the spot where she hit.

There was no doubt that in a straight-up boxing match between the two, the whole ordeal would of been something of a intense back and forth. Speed against power, with both individuals featuring boxing technique that put them above the standard brawler. With that in mind, their wrestling encounter should of followed the same premise; Diana's finesse and quicker pace versus a more stoic, sturdy and threatening strategy from Army. So why the hell was Diana trying to out muscle her foe?

Now flat on her side, it was only now with some of the breath smashed out of her that Diana finally began to calm down, and apply logic and strategy to the situation. Turning onto her back, she'd gaze up at her foe, as her hand held the wound to her face. With some luck, her desperate kick had at least reduced Army to his knees.

At this distance, an attempt at a rise would of simply of being met with a lunge or strike from her nearby foe. Rather, she'd opt to use what little she could of her stance; but first, Army had to be brought to her. In an attempt to do so, Diana would bring her closed fists up to her chin, as if holding somewhat of a downed boxing posture as she covered the lower half of her face. Only, with said stance, she'd extend a middle finger from her right hand!

"Come on then...you fuck..."