James Wright vs. Carmen Rodriguez

Normal rules: win via pin, DQ, submission or KO.

"Don't fuck this up." Jessica's words were short. They came in a rough staccato.

"Thanks for your sage advice, sister. What, praytell, other wise words of wisdom do you have for your wayward brother?" James tone was lackadaisical and that pissed Jessica off, not that it was terribly hard to make the Violent Violet angry.

"Don't be a fucking asshole with me." Jessica adjusted the belt that she had on her shoulder. Ever since she had earned it, the Hardcore belt had become a permanent part of her wardrobe.

"Okay, chill the fuck out, dude," James threw his hands up to catch any blows that Jessica might throw his way, "and do you have to carry the fucking belt everywhere?"

Jessica huffed. "If you were fucking good enough, you would be carrying the belt around everywhere too. But you fucking suck. Did you at least watch any film?"

"Of course I did," James lied.

"So you're ready for her high-flying moves?" Jessica's eyes narrowed.

"Of course," James responded.

"But if you had actually watched tape you would know that she is more of a striker." Jessica hissed.

"Well," James stood up, "I better get going." James avoided looking at his younger sister as he walked out of the door. Had he risked a glance, he would find that his sister was entirely unimpressed with James' little stunt. He looked down at the floor as he made his way to the ring. He was fit, he knew that. But he was not entirely sure that he was as prepared for this match as he could be. He probably should have watched some film. Carmen had a legacy that was a mile wide, and he surely could have picked up some of her habits had he been focused. Well, a few beers last Saturday were not going to hurt. And besides, he was good enough that he could probably get away with it.

His music started up and James started down the ramp. The crowd did not cheer too loudly for him, and he responded with very little. His walk was not a nervous one, but he would not overwhelm anyone with how confident he appeared.

James slipped under the bottom rope and backed into his corner. He was starting to regret not trying a little harder.

”I’m not going to fuck this up.”

Carmen’s words were no less terse than Jessica’s had been, said with a similar tone and directed at a similar person. The main difference was that her brother wasn’t physically present. He was on the phone. Oh, and she was the one wrestling tonight, not the other way around, a fact that he felt the need to remind her of, even as she hung around the dressing room and got ready for the match in question.

”I’m not saying you are, all right?” He came back over the phone, speaking over the sound of a car honking in the background. He was driving and talking at the same time, something she wished he wouldn’t do, but since when did he ever listen to her advice? Not that it stopped him from doling it out. ”All I’m saying is that a little backup wouldn’t hurt, is all. You know these two, remember last time, and-”

”I remember last time, Army.” All too well, in fact. The last time the Wrights and Rodriguez’s clashed, it had been a messy affair, with the two alpha females taking an instant disliking to each other. Since then, she hadn’t thought too much about the ‘Violent Violet’ - the woman was off in Friction, doing her thing. But she was a champion now, and apparently someone saw some money in stoking the fires. Carmen didn’t know the exact  thought process from the booking committee, but she could guess it was no mere coincidence that a former hardcore champion - of sorts - was set to wrestle the brother of a recently crowned one. ”It’s just a match.” She tugged on her top, getting it on nice and snug around the chest. ”Jessica didn’t even seem to like her brother all that much, she might not even be around here.”

”And if she is?”

”Then I’ll handle her, too.” She said the with less conviction than she would’ve liked, right as a telling knock came from the locker room door. She didn’t even need to open it to know what it meant: it was time for the match to start. ”Look, I appreciate the ‘big little brother’ act, but it’s no necessary. I can handle myself, Army. Catch you later.”

She could hear him starting to say something, but she clicked out before he could form a syllable. She loved her brother, clumsy oaf that he was, but she didn’t babysitting. She was Carmen Rodriguez. A champion. One of the best. It was about time she reminded people why that was.

A couple of minutes later and she was coming in through the ropes, moving James’ way with a confident stride. She didn’t head to her corner, didn’t wait at the center of the ring. Instead, she just marched up to him with folded arm, getting close enough to meet him eye to eye.

She looked him up, looked him down, then locked on in the middle. Cold. Quiet. Unflinching. ”You’re alone?”

Well, that was weird. Carmen did not go to her corner, which was fine. She then chose not to stand in the middle of the ring, as his sister was fond of doing. Rather, she marched straight up to him. He half expected her to cold cock him before the match had even begun, as he might have done at another time or place. He visibly moved to defend himself, only to find that Carmen just crossed her arms. His apprehension was a little bit embarrassing, actually. James did his best to act cool after that self-imposed humiliation.

He scratched his head. "Uh, as alone as I can get I guess. Now do you want to back up a little bit?" james made a hand motion to wave Carmen back a little bit. The Latina was a striker, and he wanted not to get clocked in the head to start the match off. Plus, he wanted to have some space to launch his aerial assaults.

The purple-haired man nodded at the referee to let her know that he was ready. He tried to back up a little bit, but there was simply no space.

Off in the bowels of the halls of AFW, Jessica pushed a worker out of the way and found a small monitor to watch the proceedings on.

To say that Carmen was suspicious would be an understatement. Honestly, she would’ve been more comfortable if Jessica had come down to ringside - at least then, she’d know where the purple punisher was, instead of having her hiding in the wings somewhere. Which she was. Not a doubt in Carmen’s mind.

That skepticism was clear on Carmen’s face, but she kept her opinions to herself for the moment. No sense in grilling him over something that hadn’t happened yet.

She took a few steps back at the referee’s urging, making her way to the center of the ring, giving him some space. Up came her fists and into her fighting stance she went, ready to go, though she wasn’t quite sure what to expect from him. The impression she got from her studies and their previous encounters painted James as more of a daredevil, lighter on his feet than his sister. A high-flyer? She hadn’t had to deal with one of those in a while.

Could be a problem, but not one that she was unprepared for. James would be looking for space, and the best way to win was to deny him that.

She came charging in the moment the bell rang, trying to close the gap before he had a chance to escape and make distance. Looking to take him down fast, she launched a hard right straight towards his chest, aiming right for the center with one of her better punches.

Carmen did not seem terribly impressed by his answer. In all fairness, it was a terrible answer. James was not a shark, but he was skilled enough in poker and in wrestling to know that you shouldn't tip your hand from the very beginning. He had very little doubt that his sister was going to be there, just outside of Carmen's peripheral vision, waiting for her chance to uncoil and cause a lot of pain to the Latina. Much to his chagrin. James wanted to win this match on his own, to show the world that he was not a total flunky.

But judging from everything, that task was going to be very hard. Carmen had given him some space at the behest of the referee, and not him. Which he was mostly fine with. As long as he did not start out the match with Carmen baring down on him immediately, he knew that he had a chance to pull it off. The aerial ace peeled himself off of the corner and got into what he called a fighting stance. Feet wide, center of gravity low. He was ready to dive in any direction at any moment, to melt around attacks and counter. For a split second, James was ready.

Then the bell went off.

James had never been a matador, but he could not help but feel like one now. Carmen, a charging bull, came straight at him, and James was taken by surprise. Well, surprise, and a punch to the chest. James stumbled back a little bit, clutching his chest. All of the air had been ripped from him, and James was verbally gagging.

Well, that wasn't a good start. James ducked down quickly and tried to sweep Carmen's leg. He couldn't be hit if she was on her backside, he reckoned.

Carmen was having a bit of a hard time getting a read on this man. She usually thought she was a good judge of character, at least when it came to dealing with people between the ropes, but James...James was different. Just to look at him, he was about as different as he could be from his sister, and Carmen wasn’t just thinking in terms of physical build.

The guy seemed nervous. Off. Not as bad as some of the more peevish Tension men she’d run across, but she couldn’t help but feel like that after what transpired after the bell rang.

She came in, hard and heavy. The goal was to take him by surprise, sure, but she wasn’t expecting to catch him that off-kilter. The blow landed flush and had him staggering back, a solid landing on the chest. So good that she followed it up without even thinking, closing the distance fast.

Maybe too fast. She was committed to the charge, so much so that she couldn’t abort when James ducked down and swung his leg out, hitting her right in the shin. A decent trip. Wouldn’t have worked if she’d not been so gung-ho, but decent.

It was enough to knock her off her feet and send her to the mat, but if James thought there wouldn’t be a price to pay, he was quite wrong. She’d show him how wrong he was by rolling to her side and shooting her leg out, trying to kick him away before he could capitalize.

There were only so many things that could make someone feel better after having all of the wind ripped from them, he reckoned. One of them was getting a bit of vengeance, which was some solace, he had to admit. The other was knowing that he was not about to be hit again. James much preferred column B to column A, but he was very happy to have both. While Carmen had not been sent down to the mat, but she was sent stumbling. If James could breathe, he would breathe easy.

Immediately, however, he had his relative sense of peace ripped from him. Carmen came at him hard and fast with a rolling knee. The aerial ace's eyes went wide, and he did his best to get out of the way as quickly as he possibly could. James jumped out of the way. The knee just barely caught him, causing him to turn. He was lucky to escape the way he had, but he was not sitting pretty with that forming bruise.

But if Carmen was going to be like that, Carmen was going to be like that. The jump to the side purchased him some space, and he leaned back to get himself some more. A strong left leg rose from the canvas, cruising towards Carmen's head like a tomahawk missile.

Carmen was getting the strong urge to smack herself in the face, and it all came back to her decision to rush James like this in the first place. Should’ve taken her time, should’ve worked him down first. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

It wasn’t a total loss, but it wasn’t the dominant start she was hoping for. Just now it occurred to her that she hadn't taken on terribly many of the lighter, quicker fighters in her career - most Tension men were her size or bigger, so she enjoyed an agility advantage. Not here. Here, James danced around her attacks, moved around, and came back her with-

”Damn it!” Carmen cursed as Jame’s foot collided with her skull, knocking her back with an arc of spittle. She stayed down there for a moment, too, her world significantly rocked.

James brought his foot down and smiled a little. He didn't know what his sister was talking about, this wasn't that difficult. Wrestling was always wrestling, and James was fast and strong and tough. There wasn't a situation he couldn't kick and punch his was out of, his record notwithstanding. The flicker of a smile faded as he lurched forward, pressing himself into action again. The match was still young, and there was still opportunity to be seized.

The aerial ace darted forward and down. There was quite a bit of flourish in his spin which slowed him down just a hair, but wrestling was nothing without a touch of flair. He stuck his leg out and went for a low sweep, trying to get his hard-hitting opponent off of her feet.

Jessica was looking up at the monitor and nodding. If he was smart, he could make something out of this. Which meant that he wouldn't, in her esteemed opinion.

‘Aggravating’. That would be about the right word for Carmen’s opinion of the current situation. She didn’t expect James to be a total pushover, no, but she didn’t expect him to be such a massive pain in the ass, either. Not even two minutes into the match proper, and she was already on her back. Felina would be giving her no end of teasing over that during dinner.

It was good hit, but she’d taken worse, and she wasn’t too long to start getting back up. To James credit, though, he seemed to realize the state of things. Already moving. Already coming her. Already setting up the next attack.

She’d just gotten to her feet when James came her way and dropped down, looking to take her down. It would’ve worked, too, if she was still on the floor. She wasn’t.

Instead, she leaped straight up, letting him slide in beneath her, then shot her leg downwards. Straight downwards. Towards his chest.

Double stomp.