Laila Nazari vs. Sara Conner - Collision Course

Match Type: Hardcore
Victory Conditions: Pinfall, Submission, or KO.

***

”About fucking time.”

Sara Conner had been trying to get her first match in Tension for far, far too long, and she was honestly starting to wonder if this all led to some conspiracy against her. Every time she came to management, they refused to give her matches - or, more specifically, the refused to give her the matches she wanted.

There were good fighters in Tension, she knew it, but they wouldn’t let her have matches with any of them. Instead of putting her against real, true challenges, they offered her the weak, limp-wristed pushovers that Tension had became known for in its worst days. While she wasn’t necessarily opposed to picking up easy wins, that wasn’t what she needed at this stage in her career, if things were going to pan out like she wanted them to.

She wanted someone to hire her, to see what she could do as their muscle. That was never going to happen if she was taking down easy prey. Sara needed someone she could shine against, someone who put her on display. Someone to really sink her teeth into.

She needed Laila.

Sara had heard of Laila a while ago, before she even came to the AFW, back when she was looking for new places to ply her trade. It was honestly surprising the two of them hadn’t had the chance to fight before - they both went around similar underground circles, met with similar people, had similar tastes when it came to their matches. Laila had all the makings of a tough, dominating fighter - the height, the strength, the presence, the aggression. All the ingredients she could’ve asked for.

She made her way to the ring with a towel slung over her shoulders and her eyes on the ring as her theme blared, ignoring the crowd as she approached. There wasn’t much to think about, really - some of them booed her, probably catching wind of her history outside the ring, but she could not have conceivably cared less. There was only one person on the planet she had any thoughts about at the moment, and that woman was going to be inside the ring with her in a couple of minutes.

Eager to get this started, Sara slid under the ropes and promptly made her way to the far end of the ring, where she leaned up against the corner and settled in.



Any moment now...

Sara didn't have long to settle in, though, before her opponent entered the arena as well.

Spoiler:

Arch Enemy snarled their way onto the loud speakers as Laila Nazari, the Bird of Prey, srode down the arena ramps towards the ring, ignorant of the mix of cheers and boos she was getting as her eyes focused on the arena. She had been petitioning long and hard for another match, ever since she had demolished Prayuth Sakda in an earlier match. She was hungry for more matches, eager to climb the ladder and take on some of the bigger names in this league-- Alaina Sanders, Death Bunny, Manami Kuroda, even the Violent Violet herself. Now, it looked like she was getting a match at last...against a woman whose fighting style, demeanor and story almost mirrored her own.

Her eyes drifted to the sitting figure of Sara Conner as she thought this. The American woman was sitting in the corner like a boxer awaiting a fight, her head lowered, her posture and her quiet, stern expression suggesting a calm before the storm. She had heard of "the Android" before, a ruthless, unscrupulous woman who often hired herself out to injure other wrestlers, either in the ring or outside of it. Hers was a bloody history, leaving a trail of broken opponents behind her. Laila didn't consider herself to be an honourable person by any stretch of the imagination, but people like the Android, or worse, the people who hired her, always disgusted her. If you can't take out an opponent yourself, she had always thought, then you don't belong in the ring. It was that simple. Still, given that she and Sara Conner had often moved in the same circles, it was a wonder the two hadn't run into each other until now. Maybe tonight destiny was amending that.

She slid under the ropes and stepped into the ring. She stood at her full height as she moved to the center of the ring, staring down at Sara Conner. She wanted the American to get a good look at her-- at her physique, at her stance, but more importantly, at the cold, remorseless look in her eyes. It was the look that was one of Laila's most defining features, the look that said "You are nothing to me." Laila knew that was what Sara was seeing, because that was what Laila was seeing reflected back at her in her foe's unblinking blue eyes.

"You wanted me," Laila said in flawless English. She raised her arms on either side in a challenging gesture. "Here I am."

Sara lifted her eyes as the guitar rift started up, signaling Laila’s approach. While Sara was never that big on aesthetics, she had to give the woman credit for her choice on theme - the music fit her well, hammered like a war drum as she made her way down the ramp, fitting her entire demeanor. Sara had seen her in action on screen plenty of times, had practically memorized her match with Prayuth, but that was a poor substitute for seeing the real things.

A confident walk, as if she was ready to brush aside any obstacle that happened to be in her way. Rippling muscles, honed from thousands of brutal hours across the world. Hard, unflinching eyes that never wavered from their target - the two of them locked eyes the moment she appeared, and the only thing that separated their gaze was the occasional blink. It certainly didn’t waver as her future foe stepped between the ropes and promptly made her way to the center of the ring, standing a couple of feet away from a hesitant referee.

As much as this was about business, as much as she didn’t want to bring emotion into the mix, Sara couldn’t resist a tiny smirk. It was nice to know she’d made the right choice.

She didn’t respond to Laila - didn’t even move. She kept her position in the corner, sitting there, breathing slow. The referee looked between them, not sure what to make of it at first, more than a little confused...but after a moment, she gave a shrug and threw her hands up, giving the signal for the bell. ”Okay, then. Wrestle!”

The bell might as well have been a shot from a starter’s pistol. The second it rang, Sara took off at full speed, exploding out of the corner and rapidly close the distance on Laila. The strategy here was an obvious one - she had the speed advantage, but reach and strength were firmly on her opponent’s side. That meant there was one place she needed to be, right from the start and as often as possible: in Laila’s face. Full offense, right from the start.

And she decided to kick it off in a grand way, too, as she launched herself into Laila’s space with a raised leg, leaping towards her with a flying knee aimed at her chest.

Laila watched some reaction, any reaction at all, from Sara. A part of her expected, and dreaded, that Sara would get up and start getting into some needless, long-winded taunting. Laila hated talkers, whether it be the drama queens who loved the sound of their own voices or the naive brats who thought to engage in friendly small talk. She wasn't interested in their friendly attempts at conversation, and even less interested in whatever they thought witty banter was, and usually demonstrated her disapproval with her fists.

Instead, Sara simply flashed her a feral grin, and remained seated. The fact that Sara was still sitting immediately alerted the Egyptian woman that something was off here. Sara was a veteran of the ring here, just as she was, and the way she was just so casually sitting either meant that Sara didn't consider Laila a threat, or that she was up to something. Either one was likely, given what Laila knew about the Android.

And then the ref girl moved to the side, the bell rang, and Sara was suddenly propelling herself at her in an explosion of movement.

Laila hissed a curse under her breath as she saw Sara's raised leg coming, and raised an arm to counter it-- a fraction of a second too slow, as Sara's knee still caught her a glancing blow under her ribs. Wincing at the force of the impact and breathing a little harder, Laila retaliated, using the same arm she had tried to block with to deliver a knife edged chop to her opponent's own chest. This close, Laila's range advantage was gone, which meant right off the back it was going to be close-ranged savagery...and that suited Laila just fine.

Sara could see it in Laila’s eyes right from the start, before the bell rang. She had the look of a killer, a set and determined face. Not the type to hesitate, no holding back, no mercy. If didn’t commit, if she dithered with her moves or had less than 100% faith in her abilities, this was the sort of woman who’d seize onto that weakness and crush her underfoot.

That was why she drove so hard to make it into her opponent’s range, that was why she knew the assault absolutely could not slow down for even a moment. It was all the way or nothing. But would it be enough? So far, the results were promising.

She came into striking range and lashed out, seizing her best opportunity. The blow didn’t land as clean as she wanted it to, but it did land, knicking Laila’s ribs and getting a sharp reaction. Sara wasn’t the least bit disappointed, though, since the driving motivation here had just been to get into her opponent’s range and take away one of her biggest advantages. Mission accomplished.

Of course, that didn’t mean she had the match won or anything. Laila was dangerous at any range, and she proved that when she lashed out and sliced into Sara’s chest with a whipping blow, one that was sure to leave a red mark. Nasty stuff.

She had an immediate answer for it, though. Instead of letting the arm get away, she tried to wrap her arm around the wrist, looking to hold it in place long enough for her to bring her other arm up and drive the elbow into the middle of Laila’s limb, striking right at the bones.

Laila's arm smacked hard into the Android's chest, her forearm biting hard into her foe. Before she could draw it back for another strike, however, Sara grabbed onto it, trapping her by the wrist.Wide eyed, Laila knew what was coming, but again, found herself a fraction of a second too late...just before Sara drove her elbow hard into the middle of her arm, sending sharp pain lancing up the limb as the impact jarred bone and bruised flesh.

Laila clenched her teeth, not wanting to give this bitch the satisfaction of knowing how much that had hurt, and yanked on her trapped arm. If Sara wanted to fight at close range, then fine, Laila would be all to happy to oblige her. Yanking Sara in close, Laila would try to drive a knee up into her abdominals, hoping to knock the wind out of her foe or, at the very least, force her off-balance. The match was barely a few minutes old, and already the two fighters were trading blows at a rapid pace.

Hm. No scream? Sara was surprised by that, even with such a tough opponent. That blow had to hurt something fierce, going down right on the bone, slicing into those tendons. Tough this one, which she knew, but proud, too. Definitely something she could manipulate later on, something to make note of. And she would be revisiting that arm.

In the moment, though, she had her own problem. Like that knee that was currently lodged in her chest. It drove the wind clean out of her, had enough force to raise her feet off the ground, but she didn’t go down. In this moment, she had one of two options - stay the course on the inside or move back out of range and play it safe. The former option appealed, but at this stage, Sara knew the latter would be the wiser choice.

As soon as her feet touched the ground, she took a quick leap back, moving just out of where she guessed Laila’s range would be. After taking a hot second to rub her stomach and shake off that knee, she brought her hands up and started to circle, staying just on the edge for now as she waited for Laila’s retaliation.

Laila felt het knee plough into Sara's abs, the blow grinding against her reinforced muscles, forcing the other girl back and even propelling her a little off the mat with its sheer force. To her own credit, Sara reacted with surprising speed: the moment her booted feet hit the ground, she immediately went into a ready stance, bringing her hands up and starting to circle.

Hmm, interesting. Laila had heard that Sara was supposed to be good, and saw now that it would have been folly just to write her off as some mindless thug. The fact that she was playing cautiously now, though, opened up some options for Laila as well: she could mirror Sara's moves and invite a grapple...or she could seize the initiative and attack.

Slowly rotating the arm that Sara had mauled, Laila mirrored Sara's circle, her eyes never once leaving the American's. That is, until she suddenly exploded into movement, faking another knee before aiming a hard right cross across her opponent's cheek, before trying to slide an arm around Sara's head in a follow-up, grinding the other woman's cheek against her abs as she tried to drive a knee once, twice into her midsection...

In all of this, Sara found herself staring at Laila’s eyes. In part because they were a rather striking pair of orbs - exotic, rich, deep, seemed to shimmer in the arena’s lights. But, also, because she was trying to get a read on what was going on in this woman’s mind. The way she looked and stared, she was reminded of jungle cat. A panther approaching her prey and sizing it up, determining the best angle to attack and waiting for the right moment.

She was going to come, there was no question about that. It was only a matter of when, and how, and if Sara would be ready for it when it happened.

She was. Mostly.

Laila came in fast, throwing out a fake knee that almost did its job, making Sara flinch. She scarcely had time to raise her arms and fend off the blow coming towards her head, still taking a bit of the blow against her ears. But that punch was only the beginning of her troubles.

Laila’s arm wrapped around her head and pulled her in tight, and then the knee came up. Laila brought it up hard and fast, slicing into her abs and cutting deep, but she’d managed to regain some sense when the second one came in. She took the blow, but wrapped her arms around Laila’s knees, keeping her clutched tight. It wasn’t an ideal position, though, not as long as she had the hold around her skull.

Thankfully, this wasn’t the cage or the mat, it was a wrestling ring, and she had a few options to work with. While she wasn’t the strongest woman, she had enough power to lift up, turn about, taking a step forward and jerk down hard, attempting to slam her foe’s upper back into the nearest turnbuckle, a wild attempt to dislodge her.

At first, Laila's move worked almost exactly as expected, the falling into place like clockwork. As expected, Sara fell for her feint, and as expected, Laila was able to catch her in a frontal headlock, grinding it nicely against her abs. As expected, Laila's knee drilled hard into Sara's own abs, no doubt giving the American her own bit of pain for this match. So far, everything was going exactly as it should have in Laila's mind.

Which was exactly what seemed so wrong about all of it.

As Laila brought her second knee up, her suspicions were proven correct as Sara suddenly caught her knee in both hands. Left up on one leg, Laila responded by solidifying her grip around Sara's head. She was about to retaliate, of course, to use her free arm do drive a shoulder down hard between Sara's shoulder blades and "convince" her to let go of her leg...but unfortunately, Sara acted first, surging forwards and driving Laila's back hard into the corner post.

A faint hiss of pain escaped Laila's lips as the impact rippled along her spine. The blow did its job, dislodging Laila's arm from around Sara's head as the Egyptian was suddenly forced to catch her breath...