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

Getting punched in the face sucked, but Army  had at least gotten used to it over the years, in and out of the ring. He’d been punching his way out of situations for over a decade, was more than used to the sort of shock that came from a fist rattling his jaw in unsettling ways.

But a kick was something else. As he’d learned from his cousin, Felina, and now Diana, it could mess with your equilibrium, rock your brain worse than even the most hellish punch. That was what he was dealing with now, as he shook his head and tried to get the stars to clear his vision.

Diana’s taunting was not helping things, either.

There she was, egging him on. If she wanted Armando, she’d get Armando.

Not even bothering to respond to her taunt, Army forced his way up and went into a charge, coming at her like a rampaging rhino. He ducked his head down and shot his entire body at her, looking to take her down with a fierce spear.

And just like that, doing her best impression of a red cape, Diana had made the bull charge.

Still somewhat lacking full equilibrium herself; not even close to having the wind in her sails to now jump out of the mans warpath, Diana would grunt, opting to try and use Army's force against him. There was no doubt that the actual collision between Army's shoulder and Diana's toned midsection would hurt; it was simple fact. Sure, she could bring her arms lower, perhaps take some of the sting away, but said simple fact remained. She was going down. Only, not so much in Army's favour ideally as he'd like.

Pushing back on her feet, Diana would opt to take some of the force away from the explosion that was Army's tackle, by simply jumping with said force. Sure, she'd hit the mat much harder given Army would be able to capitalise on the lack of defence, but Diana would take a solid collision from the mat rather than a solid collision from her foe any day of the week.

Not that such lessened her pain, as she now lay flat on her back with a raging bull ontop of her.

Baring her teeth as her Italian figure sweat underneath the mans, she'd bring her arms up to try what best she could for a mount-defence, hooking what arms she could. Not that she'd ever fully lock her foe; it was like a child trying to restrain an adult given the stance of the two, not to mention the size difference. Although, she would try to add to it, by slowly snaking her legs further up Army's body, apparently having some foul painful intentions for the man. If she could lock it in. And her foe didn't turn her face into a mush before then.

It wasn’t the clean hit that Army wanted - he’d imagined himself slamming into her full force and taking her right to the floor. Instead, Diana managed to mitigate some of the impact, leaping against it, reducing the force.

It worked. The result was the same, though. Down they went, crashing into the mat, with Army coming down on top of her. All 200 pounds of him.

”Got you!”

A win was a win, and Army certainly felt like he was coming out on top, here, literally and figuratively. What came next was simple enough - punch, punch, punch.

Army got one of his arms hooked, but the other? That was still open. That was still free, and he used it to devastating effect, slamming Diana in the side of her guard with some high powered, punishing hooks, laying into her with hammer blows.

On paper it was simple for the Italian even in the dangerous spot- first was to use her smaller thinner finesse to hook around the arms of the more brutish Army, thereby pissing him off, thereby allowing more than an opportunity to turn the stance against him. A painful shame then, that Diana couldn't even accomplish the first item on her list.

Hooking Army's left, Diana's eyes would widen for a second before that first shot came in akin to a cruiser missile; hitting her non-existent defence and briefly numbing the woman outright. Had the match been MMA, the single strike itself would of warranted the referee to strongly consider a TKO finish on Army's side. Alas, it was not; and with neither Diana's hand coming out for a submission, nor her shoulders fully flat for the pin, the moment continued so long as the Italian's eyes didn't roll into the back of her head.

Tucking her head and upper body to Army's left, using his own figure as a shield against those potentially career threatening blows, Diana struggled to keep the sense in her eyes as her unused arm tried to cover her face. Her legs had shimmied up noticeably on Army, but with her foe still straddling in a dominant ground and pound, they'd certainly wouldn't be going anywhere to pose a threat to her foe. If Army continued his ruthless ground-and-pound without thought, there could be a chance Diana could use the brief gap between strikes to save herself. But Diana knew Army was no fool; you didn't get to build yourself the reputation Armando Rodriguez had by throwing caution to the wind every time you had the superior footing.

Rather than wait for another opportunity to come for that much needed escape, Diana took but a small breath as a plan formed itself in her head, as two words latched themselves together and created the idea Diana needed in order to escape the brutal ground and pound. Mind games.

Already somewhat seeking safety in Army's side, her head already close to her foes cheek, it was simply a matter of leaning up slightly to whisper in her foes ear.

"It's weird...usually I'm the one...on top of a Rodriguez...doing all the grunting..."

Being on top of your opponent and being on top of the match were too different things. As a boxer, that was the sort of thing he didn’t much thinking about, since the fighting stopped when his opponent went horizontal. But as a wrestler, working on the ground was a new thing for him.

The fact that he was a guy helped out alot, too. Ground and pound was a great strategy when you always had the weight advantage.

Because of that, Army really thought he had Diana down for good. Then she had to go and speak.

Army knew that Diana and Carmen were fucking. Of course he knew. He’d have to be an idiot not to know. But, truth told, he hadn’t given it much thought until just now, when Diana spelled it out clear to him. He didn’t want to, but she just drilled the idea into his skull. The idea of the woman he was wrestling with going at with his sister, kissing her, groping her, licking her, fucking her…

Yeah. It was a little distracting.

”Oh my God, what the fuck?” Army sat straight up, rubbing his eyes and furiously attempting to force the mental images out of his mind. It wasn’t working. Dear Lord, was it not working.

From the moment Diana stepped foot in the match, she was displaying traits uncharacteristic of an amazon who came to AFW looking for a fair fight, nothing more and nothing less. Underhanded tactics. Allowing her emotions to get the better of her. And now, outright brutality in a verbal fashion.

Those watching from the sidelines keen to see if the amazon could escape via skill would be left somewhat disappointed, as words only heard by Army himself made him relent on his ground and pound, sitting up and using those firm abs as somewhat of a seat.

Her grip on Army's left had faded, but not at all gone-if anything, her holding of his wrist and hand almost appeared to be sincere, something beyond ironic given the words just uttered between the two. Diana didn't bother to wait to capitalise on her foes state of mind- before Armando even straightened up on the Italian, she'd shoot into action as if Army had just laid flat on his back asking for the pin.

Using that arm of her foes to yank herself too to a sit-up stance, she'd nuzzle her chin to her foes shoulder whilst trying to wrench that arm up and back, in something of a modestly applied Kimura attempt. Whilst a submission here and now didn't appear too much on the cards, Diana couldn't help but grunt as she worked the hold nonetheless, trying to take that earth shattering striking power away from her foe even if it was his less dominant arm. And of course, whisper more words Army probably wished he didn't hear.

"What...the imagine of me ploughing your sister hit a nerve?" Her dark smile ever growing as signs of pure anger still held their place, the Italian somewhat imaging just how Carmen herself would react if she could hear her now..

Brain bleach.

Army needed a large, industrial sized bottle of heavy duty brain bleach.

He couldn't even imagine why Diana would bother telling him that. To fuck with his head? Yeah, okay, that certainly worked. It was creepy as fuck, and she was already weird to begin with. Just the thought was like a worm in his mind, getting deeper and deeper the more he thought about it. It sure as hell didn’t help that she was dressed in a hot bikini, constantly rubbing up against him with plenty of skin contact. The same skin that Carmen had been touching and…

Army shivered. There would be many cold showers in his future.

It was the sort of thing that could blind a man to anything else going on, even things like an opponent grabbing his arm and forcing it up behind his back. That was exactly the case here - by the time he’d clued in on what she was doing, Diana had already locked in the Kimura, tight and secure, wrenching one of his two best weapons up in a painful angle.

He cried out and bent forward, then cried again when she whispered in his ear. All of the sudden, this was an extremely uncomfortable place to be,and he tried to desperately crawled forward, slide them both towards the ropes.

To her admittance, had roles being reversed and it had Army being screwing one of Diana's family members, Diana would of probably responded with similar. Albeit, with a lot more roaring, swearing, and throwing of fists. Typical Diana stuff.

That been said, like all matches that took to the ground, the jostling between the two had been something even slightly reminiscence of that that would occur between two lovers under the sheets, which was most likely why her words had hit such a nerve with Army. Not that Diana reminding him that she was fucking his sister wouldn't of done the job alone.

Bending that arm up and back, Diana opted to keep her mouth shut for the remainder of the hold, instead the only sounds coming from those Italian lips now of grunts, along with some whispering of a dark laugh. Despite being a arm lock, Diana was familiar enough with the hold to know that it's effectiveness was mostly dictated by the positioning of her legs. If they were wrapped around Army's midsection, she could of likely worked enough leverage to make the big guy himself cry. But alas, her midsection still straddled by her foe, she could but simply act as dead weight to Army as he did something of a military crawl whilst trailing Diana underneath him.

Diana wasn’t talking anymore. Frankly, Army was willing to count that as a win.

Granted, she was still latched onto his arm like a star-spangled pitbull, threatening to rip it clean out of his socket with her death grip, giving him immense, agonizing pain to deal with. And he still had to deal with her hot, bare body rubbing up against his own, in a embrace that was far too much like a lover’s hold for his taste. Oh, and her dark little giggles weren’t helping either, especially since her breath was so close to his ear.

Ew. Really.

The ropes. He focused on getting to the ropes and nothing else, pulling forward until he was close enough to reach the bottom one. Desperate for release, he reached over and grabbed it tight, holding it with an iron grip, even as the referee came by to break the hold up.

In all of her honesty, Diana didn't laugh so close to Army's cheek in such a dark manner to further her own mind games, but was sincerely laughing over the fact she had taken a potentially match ending moment away from her foe by reminding him of Carmen and her own intimate relations. Her eyes on the ceiling lights, Diana would continue to sandbag Army all the way to his attempt at freedom; as ever her cheek and chest inadvertently grinding against Army's own with each jostle he made to the ropes.

Rope Break! Rope Break! Give it up Diana! 1!...

It didn't take much yelling from the referee to force Diana off; the Italian quickly opting to slide out from under Army releasing him with both arms and legs as she looked for space between the two. Her back momentarily to her foe, her right hand would come up to wipe a bead of heavy sweat from her forehead, gained from both the close contact and the sincere threat of a near defeat moments ago.

With space between both fighters, Diana simply resumed her signature stance with fist either side of her head, for what could of only been the umpteen time in the match. Only this time, rather than her face be one of pure rage, there was most certainly an air of smugness in her smile. After all, she finally had a target to work on with the so far impenetrable fortress that was Armando Rodriguez, in the form of that momentarily bent left arm of his.

Not to mention the head games as well, mind.