Conquering the Mountain

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Match Type: Oil Wrestling, No holds barred.
Victory Conditions: Ten count pinfall.

When Noriko had signed up for AFW it had been with the expressed understanding she was going to be exposed to new and strange things. After all, she was a practitioner of sumo playing at being a wrestler. So far, she had been doing alright enough, making a few waves and presenting herself as a strong contender someday for the upper card… then they put her here. It wasn't just the quiet private room that seemed almost eerily mood lit, but the slicked glistening mats that lay before here just past the small walkway surrounding by the slightly sunken "ring". She was still trying to wrap her head around normal professional wrestling and now she was supposed to do it in an oil pit? Such a strange sport.

Noriko Yamamoto:

She wasn't opposed to giving it a try, broaden her horizons a bit… but the issue was the required attire. She had to bust out one of her bikinis which wasn't exactly built with throwing someone around in mind. With a soft huff, she gave a few guys at the straps, adjusting how she wore the garment for comfort sake. This was going to be a bit harder to fight in than one of her body shots she wore in sumo or the rather casual gym wear she wrestled in. It was fine… she would make due. What she had no intention of doing however, was oiling herself up.

All it had taken was a dip of her touch to recoil from the pit. The strange sensation of thick wetness made a shiver run up her spine. It was something she would have to get over eventually though, so one foot at the other she stepped herself into it and had been standing in it for a few long minutes now. A small wiggle of her toes, a testing sway from either side to check her balance. It was an odd sensation that was sizably different than something like standing in a puddle. She could feel it goopping all over her feet and was unsure if she really cared for how that felt. Her style was built in firm foundations, being planted and drawing power from her body. How was that going to change with the oil involved? She wasn't sure.

With a sigh she stopped trying to figure it all out. A useless pursuit, to be certain, until she knew what to expect and got a feel for what this was all about. For now, she waited patiently with arms folded and eyes closed faced in the direction of the only other door into the room that she hadn't entered from. It was hard to tell since there was no clock here, but the sumo girl was fairly certain their match should start soon… perhaps her opponent was even a little late.

A moment later and Noriko’s opponent came strutting into the room, with a wide smile on her face and a little skip in her step. Bright and bouncing, the Brazilian Beauty was already shimmering in the pale light of the room, the rays dancing about her dark skin. She would seem an odd fit for just about any other sort of ring, with a body that was more fit for the runway than the ramp. But she was a healthy looking woman. Sleek, toned, defined, and most importantly, confident, proudly striding towards the ring without any worry or hesitation.

Devine stepped into the ring and let her toes sink in, not the least bit bothered by the sensation, as at home in the oil as a fish in water. She kept her other foot on the inside for now and looked up, as if noticing Noriko was in the room for the first time. She said nothing and barely moved, save to raise her head as she scanned her opponent in full.

Native girl, and a big one, surprisingly big and beefy by the standards of this island. Devine was the taller woman between them, but Noriko boasted more than enough muscle to make up for whatever height advantage she had. Not the biggest woman she’d ever seen in this league by a fair amount, but solid for her size.

And cute, too.

Also dry. Oddly dry, considering what they were about to do.

”Olá, olá, olá.” She brought her other foot into the ring and began to sturt about the perimeter, crossing one leg in front of the other as she moved, hands on hips. ”Devine.” She tapped her chest, then pointed towards her opponent. ”And you must be Noriko. Nice and thick…” She chewed on her lip, then snickered. She rubbed her palms, then flicked a little oil off on to her opponent, aiming for the leg. ”You don’t want to oil up before we start? Going in dry?”

Noriko wasn't fond of the wait. That moment before the storm where everything was eerie and still. Even as a seasoned performer who traveled on the competitive scene for female sumo, she still faced sla bit of pre bout jitters. Just an upset stomach. Once things got rolling, she was fine, it was just the anticipation that left her queasy. Thankfully she didn't have to weight for long. The soft clack of a sliding door and her pale.silver eyes found themselves locked onto Devine, sizing the other woman up as she priced into the room carefree as could be.

A good match up… she seemed similar in size, a fit form with some definition. She imagined they must have been close in weight. AFW impressed. She hadn't figured them the type to be so meticulous about pairing up combatants. It seemed as though they were more familiar with this match type though… unsurprisingly. She had faced a similar issue with Olympia as well with a normal wrestling bout. As someone with much to learn still, it was safe to assume everyone was more experienced than her with anything wrestling related. Was looking up before a match the norm? Devine certainly seemed to think so as she shimmered in the light like a beautiful bronze statuette.

She remained quiet, simply nodding to Devine as a sign of mutual respect at the brief introduction. Intent to do the same, she quirked a brow at her name already leaving the other girls lips. The comment to accompany it though was received with a bit of a skewed look. Was… that a compliment or a round about insult? Her tone was… interesting. Almost reminiscent to her other rival, which was slightly concerning. She tried not to jump to conclusions though. "Yamamoto Noriko." The sumo practitioner dipped forward in a deep bow to her opponent.

A small spatter of oiled droplets peppered her leg like a soft castoff of water. Standing up straight again, she took in a deep breath to focus her thoughts. This other woman had a lackadaisical air about her that really warranted further inspection. Was she confident or foolish? The line was a thin one. Devine's questioned got a small shake of the head. "I believe I am ready. On your mark, let us begin."

Straight to business, as per usual. Her feet pivoted in the oil, sliding from ball to heel, carefully spreading her legs apart, mindful of the oil. Her shoulders dipped forward while she squatted low in a solid unmistakably stance of someone versed in sumo. She planted a fist in the oil to steady herself, grumbling softly at the still weird sensation of the slippery substance on her hands. Noriko didn't blink, eyes locked on the competitor across from her with a silent intencity hot enough to melt through steel. She hoped Devine was ready.

”Oh.” Devine straightened up and bowed to Noriko, taking her lead. Not that she particularly cared about those kinds of formalities, but if her opponent was going to do it, she might as well show the same respect, no harm there. Besides, she so rarely had a chance to get a good bow going, despite living in Japan for, oh, half a decade now. None of the women she hung out with were all that big on it, and she couldn’t recall the last time she’d seen it in a match.

So maybe Noriko was a traditionalist, of sorts. Her body was fine, a fulsome figure, but she didn’t seem all that interested in flaunting it, didn’t seem the least bit excited to be romping in oil with another sexy woman. Strange, that. Either she was shy or she was straight, and given what she knew of the AFW’s hiring practices, the former was far more likely than the latter.

She was rubbing her chin, pondering the possibilities, when Noriko stepped in the middle of the ring and moved into her stance - and it was a stance. Devine took a step back, the shock clear on her face, as her foe moved into...was it a sumo stance? She didn’t know much about the sport, but even she was familiar enough with Japanese culture to recognize that telltale position. The posture, the fist on the floor, that fortified, iron glare. There was no doubt about it, this girl was a sumo. And not pretending to be one, either - she was 100% serious.

Devine shouldn’t laugh. She knew shouldn’t laugh.

But she laughed.

She put her hands up to her lips to stifle it as best as she could, but there was little point, now. She stepped into the ring and waved it off as she took a casual stroll. ”I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just…” She put her hands on her hips and cocked them to the side, shaking her head. ”Baby, baby, baby, you know what kind of match this is, right? What is that all about?” She straightened up. ”Are you an actual sumo wrestler? A real one?”

Did they even have female sumo wrestlers? Didn’t they have to be fat?

Try as she might, it was hard not to feel something at being laughed at. She was used to belittlement both inside and outside of her community though when it came to sumo. Cast down by her own culture, rejected for her gender to never truly step into a dohyō. It always stung, though more so when it came from natives of Japan who were part of the stigma and less from people like Devine who were simply uninformed. Anger was a natural thing, so was self doubt, but letting her emotions get the better of her did nothing to further herself or her practice of sumo. So she breathed, and took a step back from what her pride wished to shout back. This wasn't the time for outrage, it was a teachable moment.

"I have reviewed the rules for the match, yes… I don't recall anything written in them that require me to douse myself in oil nor prohibited me from competing in a manner in which I am comfortable." Pushing up off her fist she rose slowly from her crouch, carefully slipping her feet back in with the same ball to heel movement to raise her back to her full height. There it didn't seem as though they had a required start, so if Devine wished to discuss something, she didn't want to wear herself out by speaking from her ready stance by holding it indefinitely. The sumo gal gave her wrist a few hard flicks, trying to get as much of the oil off of her hand as possible.

"I am as much as a female sumo as one can be, yes. I have completed in Japan's amateur circuit, which is the only one which allows for women. Female sumo is a recognized sport on a world level since roughly the early 2000's. Should you have any interest in learning more, I can recommend you a few sources." This wasn't an uncommon question, even from natives sadly, but she was an ambassador for the cause and felt the need to fast light on ignorance where she found it. It wasn't always fair to cast blame on the uninformed, no one one could be expected to know everything.  She was questioned because she was a woman, questioned because of her figure, and questioned because of her love of the sport who disavowed her. This was a normal day.

"Did you have any other questions before we started Devine?" A product of very typical Japanese hospitality, she gave no real hints of any discouragement even though it always had a way of lingering with exchanges like these.

Despite herself, Devine couldn’t help but feel a little bad about laughing at Noriko. A little. A smidge. She had known Noriko for all of two minutes, but even from the brief time, she could tell the woman was earnest and pure about her sport, didn’t have any malice in her. That being said, she would have no qualms about getting on the floor and leaving her a sweaty, oiled up mess, but that didn’t mean she had to be rude about it. In the end, it was a culture she didn’t 100% understand, so she was in no position to say anything.

”That was a little unkind of me, apologies again. I’m sure you have quite a story to tell.” She clapped her hands together and gave them a tip towards Noriko. ”Maybe you’ll tell it me after I’m through ringing you out. If you’re still conscious, that is.”

Her smile took on a crueler edge now, head tilted forward. Speaking to Noriko wasn’t just a way to pass the time, but gave her a sense of what kind of woman this was, and now the picture was painted. She was cute, innocent despite her built form, and putting her in a match like this was probably someone’s idea of a little joke. They knew she’d be a fish out of water here, and they were expecting hijinks. A cruel joke.

Didn’t mean that Devine wasn’t going to play her part, though. Oh, no.

”No more questions, no. I’m good to go.” She planted her feet wide and leaned forward, approaching Noriko with soft steps. ”Let’s get to know each other a little better.”

Noriko tilted her head slightly, the faintest of smiles curling at the corner of her lips at Devine's apology. While having to explain to people was nothing new, such a quick turn around was. More often than not she was given a barrage of more insensitive questions about her body type and proclaimed she couldn't do sumo because she wasn't obese. It seemed as though either this woman was genuinely sorry or had better sense than many of the starch supporters of male only sumo who doubled down on their condemnation for what she was doing. She was grateful  all the same not to have her mood soured before a bout, it wouldn't do to have her thoughts clouded by hate when tasked with physically crushing her opposition. That tended to be when people got hurt.

"It's alright, you get a pass this time." The tail end of the apology did get a small chuckle from the female sumo though. It had been hard to not roll her eyes at that. While she was most certainly not in her element, she was no pushover. Their first exchange might very well change her tune. "The offer is there regardless of the outcome, should you genuinely want to know more." With a slight smirk, Noriko carefully slipped her feet back through the oil, gingerly lowering her stance again. Her first pressed down into the mat below to keep her stable, eyes locked on Devine.

"You're about to know the floor far better than me." She lay in weight for a moment, just long enough to Devine to foolishly close into what she knew her own range was. Rising in a surge, she planted her feet with a heavy stomp and locked her legs to keep them from slipped out from under her as her body lurched forward to throw a hard shove out at Devine. While pushing people was often dismissed as playground nonsense, the force behind Noriko was that of a automobile slamming into Devine, looking to send her flying should she be unprepared.

Maybe her little moment with Reiko was putting her in a good mood, but she was genuine in her apology to Noriko, not wanting the woman to take too much offense. She seemed rather pleasant, even as the Japanese went, and that was no small statement. She spent so much time hanging out with Mako that it was easy to forget that she was the exception, not the rule, that softspoken, polite woman before her was far more in line with the common conceptions.

Soft on the inside, but the outside, too? That was the question. The little retort just made Devine’s smirk stretch a little more as she hunched forward and bent her knees. ”You don’t say…”

Devine moved forward, cautious despite the assured look on her face. She wasn’t foolhardy enough to think her boasting about sumo was all a play, but she figured that, if she was ready to move, if she timed it just right, she could get out the way and avoid the oncoming threat.

It was a nice thought. Didn’t mean it would work.

Noriko wasn’t a small woman, but that didn’t mean she lacked for speed, coming out with some impressive forward momentum. Her push - if you could call the cannonball that hit her chest a ‘push’ - had enough force to send the Brazilian flying, knocking her clean off her feet and onto her back, where the oiled canvas did her no favors. She rolled, slipped, and slid her way towards the side of their little battlefield, and toppled so hard that she almost went clean over to the floor, ending up on her back with one leg draped over the side. ”Um… wow.” She pulled her way back into the ring and started wobbly work her way back up. ”That was...huh.”

Movement had been tricky, but not impossible. She could feel the burn in her thighs as her feet wanted to slip out from under her, but her tensed muscles wouldn't allow them to move. That solid form was one of the reasons outside of a ring like this she was so formidable, something Devine had just witnessed first hand as she went tumbling away. This wasn't the first time an opponent has underestimated her form and power, it likely wouldn't be the last. Such a blow would have been a decisive go today in sumo… shame it counted for so little here.

The Japanese native straightened up, smirking down at Devine as she lay hanging outside of the inflated ring. Noriko casually flicked out her hands and wrists, shaking off some of the oil that had transferred in their brief contact. She slowly made her way through the oil, closing the distance between the two of them while the Brazilian crawl led back into the ring. She had no intention on striking at her again while she was down, something that became apparent when her feet settled in short again, lowering back down to her ready stance. The difference now was how close they were to the edge… another big hit like the first would no doubt seen Devine sailing into the car wall.

"Sure you don't have any more questions?" The female sumo inquired with a hint of amusement as he feet ground themselves into the oil again. In her low crouch, ready to run Devine over like a freight train. She waited though. Clearly having the interest of a fair contest of strength in mind, at least when it came to readiness. It wouldn't be until Devine made a move or signaled she was prepared before Noriko would lunge out again for her. Unlike the first time though, she wouldn't hurl the other woman away, instead trying to clamp her arms around her waist and whip her away to the side with a full on toss towards the center of the ring.

Noriko was strong.

In other news, water was wet and the sun was bright.

These were all facts that rated on about the same level for Devine at this point, having had a full taste of this woman’s power. It reminded her a lot of her sparring with Stone, if you could call what they did ‘sparring’. She was nowhere the bigger Valkyrie’s power, so most of their time training together was just for them to get a feel for using moves on each other, testing stuff out. If the big girl went all out, Devine would get steamrolled in short order. Not too far off from what just happened to her. She tended to avoid opponents like this for the same reason a gazelle tended to avoid a lion, whenever possible.

That wasn’t to say that she couldn’t rise to the occasion and figure out a way to succeed, just that she’d have to be a little creative to pull it off. And it certainly wasn’t happening with her back to the edge.

”Questions? Yeah.” She smirked and grumbled on her way back up. ”What was the name of that truck that hit me? Oof.”

She started to make her way up, thinking her foe would move in to cut her off - that’s what she would do, that’s what common wrestling would tell anybody to do, but the sumo seemed to be on a different set of ethics. Instead, she was allowed all the time she need to write herself up, shake off that hit, and move into her wrestling stance again, this time with a more professional lean. She moved forward, took a single step…

That was when Noriko burst forth, moving on her once again with that same shocking speed. Devine was scooped up in her grasp, pressed tight against her body, breast to breast and thigh to thigh with this beauty, the oil slipping between, tasting her hot breath. It made for an exhilarating moment.

A shame it didn’t last, as she was hurled to the side soon after and sent rolling into the oil. She would’ve careered to the edge again if she hadn’t whipped over to her fours right after the impact, planting her feet and palms down like a cat on the attack. This time she didn’t wait to move in again, but threw her body at Noriko from below, trying to slam into her with a hard tackle and take her down.