Elizabeth 'Riza' Hawkeye vs. Armando 'Army' Rodriguez - First Shot

Army hefted Hawkeye up with ease, lifting her out of the corner like she weighed about the same a newborn baby. There wasn’t much to the movement, really, just one single, continuous, forceful motion. No pause. No time for her to counter. Hardly any time to even register what was going on.

She came up strong. She came down stronger.

The mat ringed quaked once again, reverberating from the impact, and she was left on her back, laying there, wide open. Ripe to be pinned. So why not?

Army raised up, leaned forward, and pressed his forehead against her chest, pressing down on her shoulders to keep them pinned, while he stared right into her eyes. ”Had enough?”

The way this match had turned against her was embarrassing. But they way he laid on top of her, his body almost completely blocking hers from view, staring into her eyes, his chest pressing into her breasts...the stirred thoughts going through her head, and worse, the blush that she couldn't keep from spreading on her cheeks at the close contact...that was humiliating.

"ONE!" The referee yelled, slapping at the mat.

"TWO!" She yelled, slapping the second time, raising for a third.

It came close, very close...but, with a defiant cry of "NO!", Hawkeye bucked and forced one shoulder up, off the mat, breaking the pin attempt!

Well, she’d made a nice try of things, but it was over now. Army was breathing a long sigh of relief as the referee started up the count, glad that they were putting this whole thing behind him. His only hope was that Carmen and/or Felina weren’t watching this, because he just knew they’d give him an earful when he got home over it. Maybe it would be best to just hang out at the gym for the night, stay there and-

...she kicked out. Again.

”Come on!” Army threw his hands with a exasperated howl, letting some of his frustration fly with it, before he stared down at Hawkeye. Glaring. Thinking. Processing. She was really going to keep pushing this, wasn’t she?

Fine. Fine. If he couldn’t get the pin, he’d go for option #2. ”Didn’t want to do this. Really didn’t. But…”

Army reached down once more and grabbed her arms, using it to haul her up. This time, he ducked down and draped her over his shoulders, putting her into the start of a move he suspected she’d remember all too well - the Torture Rack.

It worked once, it would work twice.

Hawkeye panted, taking in gulps of air after kicking out, as Army looked frustrated above her and finally started pulling her up, almost apologetic about whatever he had planned next.

She knew, before even being lifted up, what he was going for. There was only one move he could be going for.The same move that beat her four years ago. The one that hurt, made her scream. The one she occassionally had nightmares about, and that other opponents had tried using against her to mock her on the indy scene.

The Torture Rack.

The realization, rather than panic or dread, made her angry, resparking her fire, the blonde babe squirming and kicking her legs, shifting her body, managing to slip out of Army's grasp, landing behind his back.

Filled with a new determination, Hawkeye grabbed around Army's waist, and pushed her body into his, shoving him forward towards the nearby corner turnbuckle, until his chest smacked into the top turnbuckle pad, using the momentum from him rebounding off of it, arms still around his waist, to help her, with a loud cry, heave his body upwards, off of his feet, Hawkeye falling back, heaving Armys body above her own, letting go of his waist as she dropped him, head and shoulder first onto the mat with a German Suplex!

And here came the boos, right on time.

They seemed to grow louder the more Army twisted and bent Hawkeye’s body, which honestly just made him want to bend her even more. They were giving him crap, but he wasn’t the one who forced her into this situation. She’d called him out, she’d egged him on, she wanted a match, and she’d made it personal. Army wasn't going to let himself feel bad about this.

”Just give it up!” He called out, as if she couldn’t hear him with their heads so close. ”You’re not winning this, you’re not beating me, so give up so we both can-”4

Hawkeye was not giving up. Far from it.

In fact, she seemed to get a burst of fresh energy out of nowhere, wriggling about like a live wire on his shoulders. He was able to hold on for all of two seconds before she tumbled off, landing behind him, out of grasp. ”Come on-”

The next thing Army knew, he was getting shoved forward, hard, sent careering into the turnbuckle. He hit with his chest, which wouldn’t have been so bad by itself - until Hawkeye lifted him - lifted him - square off the mat. Army’s eyes widened and his hands went to the ropes on instinct, desperate to keep what he knew was about to happen from happening, to stop his flight.

It didn’t work.

He was sent for a resounding crash, one that left him aching and flat on the canvas, his entire world thoroughly rocked.

Hawkeye stayed on the mat for a few moments herself, chest heaving as she panted from the energy exerted from the suplex. Still filled with newfound fire though, she was quick to kip up, bending her legs and hopping back to her feet, much to the crowds enjoyment and applause.

Looking over at the downed Army, and knowing she had escaped that damned Torture Rack again, she let out a loud yell, a battle cry, and threw off her sleeveless jacket, now in just a bikini top on her chest, before moving to the corner, bending her legs, one arm grabbing the ropes, the other stretched, waggling her fingers at Army, willing the big, attractive, bastard to get back up to his feet. "Cmon...get up damnit...get up..." she muttered under her breath.

When Army finally did get up, either to his knees or his feet, either way, and was facing her again, she'd charge at him, swinging her leg out , either high or low, to drive her knee into his rugged face with a Boma-Ye knee strike!

Hawkeye hit him with a German Suplex.

Army was laying on the floor, reeling from the attack, struggling to get his head back on straight. The world was a spinning mass of stars, orbiting around his head, and he struggled to put the pieces back together into something coherent.

He was suffering through all the effects of having his world throughly rocked, and yet he was still having trouble processing that the thing that had just happened actually happened. That was she strong enough to even pull it off, much less do it with such impact.

But it wasn’t the end of the world. He could survive. He just needed a moment to pick himself up, get some sense and-

KNEE.

It was the last thing he saw as he was rising, a split second before the lights went out like a switch. He took it full on, straight to the face, and it sent him reeling like it was a shotgun blast. Army rolled off his shoulder, flopped over, and came to a rest on his back near the edge of the ring. A motionless, lifeless, easily pinnable husk.

For a brief, fleeting second, Hawkeye was worried she was going to miss, that the more experienced Army was going to dodge the move, leaving her open and exposed to another devastating attack by him.

That didn't happen though, the knee struck true, dropping Army in impressive fashion, a large "OHH" of exclamation from the crowd at the sight of the stiff shot. She stumbled, falling to one knee after, the knee she had connected with actually stinging...how hard was Armys head? Questions for later.

She hobbled over to Armys fallen body, grabbing his arm and leg, pulling him away from the ropes, and falling on top of his body, hooking his leg up in the air for a pin attempt!

"1!"

”...fuck, the fuck…”

Army had been unconscious. Not for long, mind you - a flash knockout, something he was familiar with on both ends. The last thing he remembered was seeing a knee, then everything went dark for a second, when the lights came back on her was staring at the ceiling. A moment of his life, just gone.

Where was he again? He was wrestling, he was in a match against Hawkeye, right. She’d surprised him and-

”3…!”

Army’s eyes widened when he heard the count and the crowd erupted right after. He hadn’t even heard the second count, hadn’t even registered that his leg was being lifted, and just like that, it was over. Hawkeye beat him. She beat him.

”Fuck.” He closed his eyes and smacked the back of his head against the canvas a few times. ”Fuckfuckfuckfuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

Holy fuck...she won.

Granted, she had come in with confidence, was certain she could, and would, win...but given how things went last time, and how devastating he could be, it was still a hell of a big deal.

"YES!" She yelled, standing up, the crowd, having become quite invested in her struggle, applauding the former soldier as the referee raised her hand in victory. It felt like a massive weight had fallen off of her shoulders. All the years of training and fighting, all the self doubt and insecurity, all of it paid off in one big moment, defeating the man that had tormented her thoughts all this time.

Of course, when looking down at him, she didn't see him as that. He was a fair competitor, he had a reputation as an honorable man, and...admittedly, he wasn't bad to look at all. Walking over to him, unable to resist the urge to gloat, she gently put her boot on his chest, looking down at him, arms crossed over her chest. "See? Told you I could beat you..."

She said, her attempt at a stern face unable to contain the gleeful smile she soon spread, taking her boot off of his chest and, in an act of professionalism, offered her hand to help him up.