Fallen Angels: Bomber Kishima vs Diana Accera

Match Type: Standard
Victory Conditions: Pinfall, submission, countout, DQ, KO

Bomber Kishima was always down for a good fight. But it had been a long time since she’d looked forward to one quite as much as this. Diana Accera was a woman desperately in need of a serious beating, and there wasn’t a single person on the roster who’d more happily administer that beating than her. She’d had two chances already - first in their initial encounter after Diana went out of her way to insult her in front of her fans, and the second in a triple threat match no betting man would ever have though Diana had any business winning.

But the Italian had won. And she’d pinned Kishima to do it. And those final words Diana had uttered were still ringing in her head.

“Yukiko would’ve kicked out.”

No. There wasn’t any way in hell she could possibly let that one slide.

Back and forth Kishima rapidly paced behind the curtain. It almost looked as if she was ready to start fighting right there without even going out to the ring. If Diana were right there at the moment, that almost certainly would’ve happened. Fortunately they were wisely being kept apart for just a little while longer. Though as far as Kishima was concerned, this battle couldn’t kick off soon enough.

Fortunately, the sound guy caught onto that vibe. And when he played her music, he skipped ahead past the low and ominous intro, straight to the blast of electric guitar that send a jolt of energy right through the cheering crowd as Bomber Kishima burst right out onto the stage! Not a second was spent posing for the crowd, or acknowledging them in any way. She just marched straight down to the ring, hopped up onto the apron and stepped in through the ropes. Then she turned her attention right back to the entranceway and began to quickly pace back and forth while she waited for Diana to come join her.

Only one half of the participants had entered the ring, and already everyone watching knew the fight they were about to witness was going to be violent and brutal. Bomber Kishima wouldn’t have it any other way…

Hate was a word rarely used in Diana's vocabulary. There'd been women thus far who the Italian had met who sure she disliked, hell, even one she'd attempt to escape the room via window just to avoid. But none of them had earned Diana's hatred.

Except one. Bomber Kishima.

Ever since the meeting between the two women and Suzumi Ishikawa, Diana and Kishima had butted heads, and then some. It was almost as if one woman's personality was designed, then the other was built to despise her. Call it strong competition, or simply powerful persona's coming together, or whatever you will. The two women hated one another.

Waiting backstage with foot to wall, Diana had emerged from her own dressing room unknowingly close to Kishima; narrowly missing the woman by mere seconds as her hated foe entered the arena first. Her scowl more powerful than ever, Diana had a long circle around her of empty space- no individual was going to get between her and Kishima tonight. Not that such a fact was meant as demeaning to Suzumi Ishikawa, but well...

If Diana was given the choice between a mountain of gold or the chance to cave Kishima's face in, she'd of laced up her metaphorical wrestling boots that morning.

Spoiler:

Bursting onto the entrance ramp with fists clenched, music blaring and lights shining, the Italian was clearly in no mood to wait as she set off on a near jogging pace down the ramp. Gaining ringside presence in mere moments, the Italian paced a good few seconds before sliding under the bottom rope, quickly getting onto her feet.

Noticeably, she had yet to fix her eyes on Kishima. Not that she was avoiding her. Rather, she wanted to save the anger and adrenaline that would rush through her once setting her gaze on The Lariat Queen's mug.

Rolling her shoulders up, she'd finally do so-latching her own eyes on her hated foes violet set.

The aura for the crowd, was somewhat scary.

Kishima clenched her fists and glared at Diana throughout the entirety of her entrance. Not for one second did she even consider turning her focus anywhere else. It wasn’t long before both warriors were in the ring together, and without a single strike being thrown already it was perfectly clear to everyone watching that they were about to see one hell of a war.

The Bomber couldn’t help but notice her foe seemed to be avoiding eye contact initially. She wasn’t quite sure why, but whatever the case, ultimately it didn’t matter. Soon their eyes met, and as if a switch went off in her head, and Kishima felt herself getting fired up. But just like her opponent, she remained dead still. For now…

Fans who were feeling the excitement from the moment started to call out for whichever wrestler they were rooting for. A lot cheered for Kishima - which would’ve normally gotten a smile and maybe even a pose of some kind from her, though there was no such reaction from the violet haired bruiser tonight. Others cheered for Diana, either out of some sort of resentment toward the Wrestle Angels veterans, or simply because they liked Diana. But no matter who the fans supported, everyone came here to see a fight tonight.

And dammit they were about to get one.

The exact second the bell rang Kishima roared out at the top of her lungs and charged in at full speed straight at Diana! Once she got to the Italian she’d immediately try to latch onto any part of her she could grab with her left hand, while she’d use her right arm to try to hammer a merciless barrage of powerful forearm strikes right into her rival’s face!

You only had to see one interaction between the two to know that this was going to be anything but a standard match. They didn't need to size each other up. They didn't need to fear being surprised by a move or technique they hadn't seen from their foe. And they sure as hell wouldn't be talking.

The only question on Diana's mind was; how did she go about decking her hated foe as quickly and as painfully as possible.

The fans chants too falling on deaf ears on Diana's side, the bell would ring as the Italian too made her way out of the corner with a confident pace.

Kishima moved faster of course, borderline sprinting at Diana, but the Italian did not mind given she'd kept a slower more controlled pace to brace against assault. And brace was exactly what she did.

Somewhat.

Bringing her left hand up too to Kishima's own locks, trapping some of that thick main within her grasp, Diana gave Kishima exactly what she gave her; a merciless barrage! Her boxing skill greater than her forearm strength, she'd instead throw closed fist over and over into Kishima's mug; a action met completely evenly each and every that thick Kishima forearm collided with Diana's own cheek!

The crowd on their feet, as the match opened with the two women apparently trying to kill one another!

The atmosphere couldn’t have been more electric in the arena as Bomber Kishima and Diana Accera pounded each other, one after another, with strikes simply as powerful as the two brawlers could muster! If nothing else happened after this exchange, the two would still both have lots of bruises on their faces by the time this night had ended. But evidently, that didn’t matter in the slightest to either warrior.

They hated each other. They wanted nothing more than to beat the ever living shit out of each other. And if they had to get some bruises or a busted lip in the process to make that happen, it’d be well worth it.

Kishima was strong, and packed explosive impact behind each strike. Hence the reason they called her “Bomber.” But for all her strength, there was one crucial thing she lacked - professional training as a striker. Kishima had never taken lessons as a boxer. Diana had. That meant the Italian’s strikes, even if wildly thrown, had more technique to them than Kishima’s.

And therein lied the deciding factor for this opening onslaught. The Bomber fought through the pain as much as she could, and kept striking with all her might. But finally she gave out, a couple punches from Diana blasted into her face, and went unanswered. Kishima staggered back toward the ropes behind her, holding her arms up to shield her face from any further harm. She could taste blood in her mouth behind her grit teeth, but paid no mind to it. Her eyes remained focused on her opponent, and whatever she chose to do next.

Neither woman evidently cared for the repercussions of their foes assaults to their face. A win with a bloody face and a black eye or two was still a win!

Diana was used to stand-up brawls like this, but not exactly of this nature. She was a boxer by default; she should of been ducking, diving, feigning, flanking. Not this. This was less than amaturish. Yet the Italian simply couldn't find the will to pull herself away.

She wanted to break Kishima.

Technique and expertise was matched completely evenly by pure power and forearms so dense Diana swore Kishima was robotic, anger and passion from one completely negated and cancelled out by the other. With that in mind, Diana somehow got the edge in her assault, landing but two strikes that went unanswered as Kishima fell back.

Of course, she too wanted to fall back to the ropes; a moment to put ice on what felt to be already swelling cheeks would of been a moment greatly appreciated, likely too by Kishima. Instead, she took a step back, literally shaking the thoughts of rest from her mind with a quick head jostle.

The momentum was hers. And she could never forgive herself if she didn't use it.

Pushing forward on her right, Diana would burst into a sprint at the woman. Raising her less numbed left arm as if trying to deliver Kishima's own famed lariat to her, Diana would instead kick off her feet as she approached her foe.

Simply put, she was trying to throw both herself and her foe over the top rope; completely devoid of concern over how the two of them might land!

Kishima inwardly cursed at herself for being the first to cave in that ferocious exchange. She had hoped to come into this fight and prove from bell to bell, without a shadow of a doubt, that she was tougher than Diana. But quickly it had become apparent to her that that was easier said than done. Though on the bright side, at least she was given a few moments that didn’t involve a fist blasting into her skull.

Unfortunately, the moment of peace was short lived.

Kishima looked up from her guard, expecting Diana to be coming at her. She wasn’t exactly wrong, but the Italian took an approach that wasn’t entirely expected. Instead of more deadly punches, Kishima was blasted with a lariat that pushed her over the top rope! Her body flipped over and collapsed right down onto the thinly padded floor at ringside! A groan rolled from Kishima’s lips as she laid there and tried to get her dazed self back together.

There were few times in wrestling where the manoeuvre that Diana had just pulled had gained a result purely in the attackers favour. More often than not, they would even come off the top-rope tussle worse, given they were the ones nigh jumping at their foe thereby the ones to lead the fall. Diana was somewhat lucky in that regard.

No, she didn't land softly. She just shared the pain equally with Kishima.

Rolling off the Lariat queen with her worse off side clutched, Diana would try to rise to her feet as quickly as possible. Clutching the ring apron, she'd pull her top half onto the ring itself, taking a momentary breath before turning to face her hated foe in a staunch upright posture.

Stumbling towards Kishima, she'd grab the purple haired beauties locks, forcing her onto her knees through no shortage of rough pulling. She didn't need Kishima upright fully, just on her legs enough to be dragged.

Or rather thrown...right into the barricade besides her! With Diana aiming to drive her shoulder, and ideally head, straight into it!

If it wasn’t for the dazed state she was in or fact that she had such a strong dislike for Diana, Kishima likely wouldn’t have hated the thought of lying in a heap with the Italian sprawled out on top of her. But circumstances being what they were, she couldn’t have felt much more relieved when Diana rolled off of her.

Despite not having the extra weight bearing down on her, however, her body was still aching considerably. And while Diana picked herself up, Kishima just groaned and lightly stirred on the ground. She wouldn’t be there for long, however, as Diana grabbed onto her violet hair and roughly yanked her up. Kishima grit her teeth and grabbed at her foe’s wrists. But before she could make any attempt to pull those hands away from her, Kishima went crashing shoulder and head first into the barricade.

“Agh!” she cried out, immediately falling back down onto the floor, both hands covering up her aching head while her legs kicked against the ground.

As Diana threw her full momentum into throwing Kishima like a bag of flour, she'd twist once releasing the Lariat queen, to of course ensure she herself didn't run front first into the barricade. Spinning on her heel, she'd walk in a full 360, burning off that momentum before bringing herself back to Kishima. Had it been any other woman, she would of raised an arm there in celebration of her success.

Not with Kishima.

Diana wouldn't give her that rest.

Bending down with arms outstretched, Diana would bring her hands to Kishima's sides, partially wrapping around her waist to force a rise from her. Dead lifting her if need be, if Kishima hadn't responded by the time Diana had forced her onto her feet, she'd drag the Lariat queen towards the ring.

Apparently, with plans to for Kishima's face to meet the ring apron this time.