The Wrong Sort Of Practice Partner

Now that Diana was free, there was the obvious case of gaining revenge. Matthew had pissed her off, perhaps more so than anyone else inside the ring since her tenure in AFW began. Goading when winning was commonplace. Goading when the match itself hadn't shifted in either's way was just infuriating.

Now that she was on her knees, with a mild pain and daze to her skull, Diana had to continue her options. She could stand and box her foe, but it had become apparent Matthew was becoming familiar with her style. She'd land punches, but not before being victim to greater agility. Grappling suffered a similar problem, mainly in closing the distance with her foe.

No, Diana had to be creative with this one. Then she could return to her time-tested arsenal, in an effort to make Matthew finally shut his mouth.

With an idea to her mind, Diana would suddenly lean back, laying flat in the space now created by the stumbling Matthew. With hands holding the mat just above her shoulders, she'd aim to carry on her rolling motion in an effort to bring her legs up and over her head. If all went to plan, even with the woman's very limited flexibility, she'd try to kick both of shins out from underneath her foe!

The Mexican man's taunting may have seemed incessant, particularly to those who had lesser levels of patience, but the truth is, his words were hardly empty. This was evidenced by the fact that he been seemingly been keeping up with the Amazon despite not giving the spar his all up until this point. Accera's observations were spot on. The Luchador had confidence in his nimbleness and maneuverability. The same way Diana always had her striking background and strength as reliable go-to options, Matt had his speed. Truthfully, this was apparent to Pasión from the onset of this match. It only made sense given that he had been more familiar with his opponent than she was with him. It was half the reason he felt like he could get away with all the goading. But all that goading of his seemed to catch up to him when Diana began to make use of more of her arsenal.

The Itallian showed the masked man that her resourcefulness stemmed well beyond simply chucking fists when she skillfully rolled backwards and used her momentum to shoot both feet out and hit both of Matt's shins hard! The force of the kick drove Matthew's leg out from under him. He could only react by catching himself on his hands and knees. Pain shot through his shins, preventing him from recovering right away. He attempted to raise a leg and plan a foot on the ground to get some kind of footing. During his efforts to do so, he'd shrug and asking sarcastically:"Guessing that's a 'yes', where you come from, Señora?" His comment was yet another smart remark, but he was well aware of the dangers he'd face is his legs were allowed to take any kind of lasting damage in this match up. Though Matt struggled to think of any immediate countermeasures, he knew that having most of his moves weakened or unavailable to him due to leg pain would render him little to no threat to an opponent of this caliber.

Still, Matt spoke.

Talkative foes rarely got under Diana's skin, such was the sport of wrestling and boxing. Conversation or taunts in-match or spar were as much as the game as hooks and feints were. But not from this particular man. Not after mentioning her so casually. The attempt at conversation completely going over the top of Diana's head, that was save for the actual attempt itself regardless of the words spoken, Diana quickly rose, most notably with her back to her foe.

Now that Matt had but a small portion of his speed taken away from him, atleast for the moment, Diana could be a little less serious in-terms of pushing whatever advantage she had. Not that she would, that is. Matt wanted that Diana. He would get her.

Or rather, the Italians foot for now. For once Diana was on her sturdy feet, she'd aim for perhaps the nearest move in her arsenal resembling acrobatic, save for her springboard forearm. Jumping and bringing her legs up and over, she'd try to connect solidly wherever on Matthew fate deemed her kick should land, with a solid attempt at a Pele kick!

Matt had only made his remark in passing. He was still trying to will himself back into the spar. he was a seasoned wrestler and high flyer. It wasn't the first time an opponent would target his legs and it certainly wouldn't be the last. But this particular quip would be one of the few he had this match that would be answered, though not verbally. For when The Luchador slowly began to rise up, he'd be met with a shocking dynamic maneuver for a woman of Diana's stature: an impressive Pele Kick!

And Amazon's foot would smack against Matthew's skull. It did take him by surprise that his opponent was capable of such athleticism. It wasn't exactly impossible for a woman of her frame, it just wasn't something that one would expect from her. Having taken the brunt of the kick, the masked man would stumble backwards. He would soon come into contact with the ropes and use them to find his footing. The man would hold his head, visibly showing signs of trying to recuperate.

It probably wasn't coincidence that he was hit with the very same move he had used not too long ago in the spar. His opponent seemed to upping the intensity. Matt smiled despite being in pain. It seemed that he was beginning to finally get what it was he was asking for. Championship caliber competition that he could find enjoyment in testing himself against. For now he would remain near the ropes. They were a great asset to a wrestler with his style. He stayed there in an attempt to make himself look vulnerable and prompt Accera to follow up. "Heh. Nice move. Can Carmen do that?"

Had this been an official match up, Diana would of attempted only marginally more to attempt to resort to a move already unleashed, by her foe of all people. But given this was a spar, one in which Matthew had pissed her off to no end in to boot, she couldn't of cared less. If it was effective, she would of done the same move, over and over, until Matt finally kept those teeth together.

Rising with nostrils still flared, Diana didn't intend to give her foe a moment to breath. She didn't take so much as a second to look at how her foe was positioned; not exactly caring if he was laying, kneeling or standing on his own two feet. Without a glance, she'd sprint towards the furthest ropes the instant she could, returning with due force.

As she did, she'd lay eyes upon her now standing foe, adjusting her attack accordingly. Again with little thought of how her foe could respond, she'd kick off her feet as she closed the distance. Extending her legs upwards, she'd try to cement her opponents position in that corner, with a running front dropkick straight to his chest!