The Prima Donna's Diary - Chapter 15: A Canadian Cold Front (vs Parker Ward)

[Misfit_Alien]

Ami was on a ROLL, she felt unstoppable as she maneuvered around the ailing Canadian. The Prima Donna Darling managed to keep Parker on the back foot, targeting her body and core with as many moves as she could deliver. Every hit was another battle won in this long-winded war for dominance and control, and Ami was finally starting to march her way out of the jaws of defeat. With adrenaline pumping in her veins and a fire burning in her eyes, Ami launched herself forward after sending Parker down to the canvas with a Snapmare, lining up for a follow-up Dropkick to blast the woman in her chest!!!

However, a barely coherent Parker managed to fling herself to the side, narrowly dodging Ami's incoming Dropkick attempt by the skin of her teeth. A shocked Ami felt her eyes widen instinctively as her boots made contact with nothing, turning her would-be majestic flight through the air into a rough crash landing that saw her stumble and skid across the canvas. Ami let out a sharp hiss, wincing as her body ached from the bump. Just as she turned herself over onto her stomach, as an attempt to push herself back up to her feet, Parker was on top of her once again, catching the petite Japanese-American by surprise!!! In one fell swoop, the exhausted Canadian managed to snatch the Prima Donna by her leg, locking Ami into a tight Figure Four Hold that...while desperate and executed on-the-fly...proved to be quite effective in weakening Ami's strongest asset, her legs. Not only would her high-flying capabilities be severely limited with enough pressure and damage, but she'd be slowed to a crawl if she couldn't escape quickly enough.

"H-Hey!!!" Ami exclaimed, writhing and wiggling, trying her damndest to escape Parker's clutches. The pain was already beginning to mount, leaving Ami struggling for clarity as her breath became shaky, her mind too focused on the pain to think of a way out at first. When the Ankle Lock was tightened on top of the Figure Four, Ami was really put between a rock and a hard place, clawing at the canvas as Parker weighed her down, all the while bending and stretching her legs to their limits. While the Prima Donna was certainly flexible, there was only so much that she could take given the Canadian rookie's superior skills in technical wrestling. Ami might rule the skies between the two, but for the majority of this battle...like most wrestling matches...the fight took place on the ground, where Parker reigned supreme. "GHHH-!!!" Ami grunted, toiling away helplessly as she tried to scramble for the ropes, unable to find any sort of leverage to slip or break free, meaning the ropes were truly her only salvation...well, that or tapping out, which WAS NOT an option here, at least, not one that Ami liked. Parker COULD let her go, but Ami scoffed at the idea in her mind...as if the Canadian would waste a chance to recover while damaging her opponent simply because she got bored or something...

For now, all Ami could do was squirm and suffer, enduring as much as possible while trying to wiggle her way over to the nearest ropes.

[Parker]

Parker’s lungs burned, each breath coming shallow and ragged. Sweat stung her eyes as she cinched the hold tighter, her body sore from the rapid-fire onslaught that had been Ami’s offense. She was too springy and swift to let loose, something she had already figured out, but it came back around to her again. Her kicks and acrobatics were overwhelming; she had to take them away.

But they were back in her world now. The mat. The grind.

Her grip on Ami’s leg stayed firm, twisting the joint just enough to make the other woman writhe and slap at the canvas. The Figure Four had turned messy midway through, more instinct than precision, but it didn’t matter. Pain didn’t need to be pretty, it just needed to work, and it was working overtime.

"We keep meeting like this…," Parker rasped under her breath, her voice low but steady despite the tremor in her limbs. She wasn’t mocking so much as hiding behind a bit of bravado, letting her words anchor her through the fatigue.

She felt Ami’s body start to shift, dragging them both inch by inch toward the ropes. Each pull got them closer to release, and she wasn’t about to have that. She could feel the Japanese-American’s strength still in every thrash and twist. As the momentum started to tilt, Parker took a long, shaky breath and flattened herself against the mat, pressing her back and shoulders down. The move wasn’t flashy, it was deliberate. The more surface she covered, the heavier she became, forcing Ami to fight the added friction along with the hold. Every squirm now worked against her, draining energy instead of building it.

"You’re not going to make it to the ropes," she murmured, her tone somewhere between exhausted and defiant. Her knuckles were white where they gripped Ami’s trapped leg, twisting it with small, punishing adjustments to keep her opponent off balance. She didn’t believe her words but was trying to get into the girl’s head, make her doubt her ability, make her hesitate and falter.

The ropes were still a ways off, and Parker could feel herself trembling from fatigue, her breath hitching every few seconds. Still, she stayed locked in, head turned against the mat, jaw set, eyes burning with focus. She didn’t have the position to pull Ami back, not right now. But she could make her earn it.

The crowd’s noise swelled, a rhythm of stomps and cheers rising as Ami clawed for the ropes, each inch harder than the last. Parker didn’t move, didn’t release, she just held, grinding through the pain and sweat with the quiet tenacity of someone who knew her limits and intended to outlast them.

[Misfit_Alien]

Ami's long crawl toward the ropes felt like something out of a movie...such a long and arduous trial that felt like it lasted forever, when in reality, these moments of struggle and agony passed in the blink of an eye. She heard what Parker said, and she agreed with the sentiment...they DID keep meeting like this, and while Ami wasn't a fan of the pain, she couldn't entirely say that she hated this. The struggle and clash of a wrestling match was part of what made it so exhilarating. However-...she'd much rather meet her opponent while they were standing up, face-to-face...At least THEN she'd be able to stare at those cute blue eyes before going blow-for-blow with the perky Canadian woman...at least then Ami wouldn't be crawling around like this. Any position seemed better than this one, comparatively speaking.

With a desperate struggle and a helluva lot of effort, the Prima Donna Darling managed to push past all the pain and Parker's so-called declaration, snagging the ropes with her hand to trigger a rope break, saving herself just in time. Before the referee would command Parker to let her go, Ami would pipe up to say something toward the Canadian, flashing a soft yet pained smirk at her as she turned over. "...s-something...y-you should know a-..bout me, Parker-...I like to-...defy expectations, hah-ha..." Ami said weakly, wincing and whining sharply as she felt a huge, tender soreness coursing through her ankle, the joint having suffered enough damage to leave a good bit of lingering pain...another roadblock for the Prima Donna Darling to climb over. Well, one step at a time-...as they say. Still, what came next was going to suck, as Ami tried to pull herself up with her remaining strength, feeling an intense and searing pain as she partially put her weight on the ankle Parker had worked over.

Well, she said it herself...she liked to defy expectations...so with that in mind, maybe Parker wouldn't be able to see what was coming next-...Ami took a deep breath before taking a step forward on her good foot to keep a steady anchor for herself, pivoting into a quick spin while dropping down low to try and sweep Parker off her feet as she got within range, using her aching foot to try and catch Parker by surprise!!!

After all, what sane wrestler would use the same limb that just got twisted and bent to hell and back? It'd be a measure of luck if Ami managed to pull this off...but it'd be a miracle if she could successfully follow up with her intended Superkick to Parker's head, still using the same foot as she defiantly fought on!!!

Spoiler

[Parker]

Parker’s grip never loosened from the moment she’d locked it in. Tighter than a bank vault, it was the kind of hold that didn’t just secure a limb, it stole time, space, and breath. Ami could crawl for the ropes or she could tap out, but the Canadian’s clasp left no third option.

Much to Parker’s chagrin, it was the former.

It wasn’t that she minded the match continuing, far from it. But the longer a hold dragged on, the more her mind wandered to that fine line between “competitive” and “career-ending.” In the rush of adrenaline, when pride blurred the edges of reason, it was all too easy to forget tomorrow existed. Parker had seen people fight until they couldn’t stand again. That wasn’t the ending she ever wanted for anyone. That wasn’t a position that she wanted to be placed in. She wasn’t here to steal dreams, she was here to fulfil her own.

Still, she wasn’t about to make it easy.

She leaned back, every motion deliberate, every muscle wired tight. She dragged her weight, shifted her hips, and peppered in bits of quiet trash talk meant to sow doubt. Beneath the tension, she could feel Ami trembling the shiver in her leg, the strain vibrating up through Parker’s hold. She could hear the Prima Donna’s breath catching, those gasps pulled between gritted teeth.

It should have felt satisfying. Dominant. But somehow, it didn’t.

Her own heartbeat drummed in her ears, and beneath the grit and the grind there was this strange duality, the competitor wanting to win, and the woman silently rooting for her opponent to reach the ropes. She didn’t want to lose to Ami, but there was a thrill in watching someone dig deep, in seeing how far both of them could push. It was a kind of respect she’d never admit aloud.

Her eyes flicked downward, those sharp blue irises burning like ice under arena lights. They carried the focus of a predator… but the shadow beneath them wasn’t malice. It was empathy, buried beneath layers of discipline.

"C’mon…" she muttered under her breath, the words barely escaping her lips, meant for no one but herself. As Ami clawed forward another inch, Parker’s voice dropped again, softer, almost fond. "...You can do it."

It wasn’t taunting. If anything, it was quiet encouragement, a confession disguised in a whisper.

Then her body arched again, wrenching the hold tighter, forcing Ami to earn every inch. Each time that hand stretched for salvation, Parker countered with a subtle twist, a pull, a grind of pressure, the kind of chess play that only two people who respected each other enough to hurt could perform.

The crowd had caught on, clapping in rhythm with Ami’s crawl. Every smack of hand to mat echoed like a heartbeat. Parker’s breath came heavy now, a thin line of sweat tracing from her temple to her jaw.

And then it happened, the break.

Ami lunged, fingers wrapping around the bottom rope, the contact shooting up through Parker’s grip like a pulse. The referee dove in instantly, shouting for the release.

Parker didn’t hesitate. She uncoiled immediately, exhaling a long, shaky breath like pressure bleeding from a pipe. Her hands loosened with care, easing Ami’s ankle from her grasp. The precision was surgical, each movement mindful, measured, gentle. She scooted back, sliding on her hips until the tension between them fell away.

She didn’t look at Ami right away. Didn’t trust her expression not to give away the flicker of worry she felt. Parker wasn’t soft, or at least, she didn’t want to look soft, but she couldn’t quite shake that pang in her chest as Ami clutched the ropes.

Finally, she tilted her chin up and forced a smirk. "Damn. Foiled me again," she said, voice dripping in mock annoyance. "Guess I need to try harder."

The grin lingered only long enough for her to roll her shoulder, loosening up the arm she’d been wrenching with.

Ami’s next move came fast, faster than Parker expected. She’d given her space out of courtesy, assuming the other woman would need time to recover. Instead, the brunette pivoted and swung low, the sweep catching Parker’s legs before she could even brace.

The impact was sudden and sharp. Parker dropped to one knee with a startled grunt, palm slapping the mat to steady herself. Her eyes shot up, catching the flicker of motion and then came the kick.

The sound cracked through the arena.

It connected hard… though not where Ami had wanted. Parker snapped backward, the shockwave running straight up her arms where she’d instinctively thrown them up to block. The crowd’s gasp hit right after the sound , one beat delayed, as the brunette flopped to her back, skidding a few inches before coming to rest on her side.

Her arms were still tight across her chest, fingers twitching from the numbness where bone had met boot. Teeth gritted, she hissed through the sting at first, feeling the dull throb radiate all the way to her shoulders. She kicked at the canvas with a boot, letting out an uncharacteristic and somewhat guttural yell trying to help her vent the pain.

[Misfit_Alien]

After ROCKING Parker with a hefty kick to her arms, Ami recoiled in pain for a moment, dropping down to a knee while trying to soothe the pain coursing through her ankle. Her plan worked...albeit not quite how she wanted. While Parker didn't take the full brunt of it all, she was still reeling from the impact. Plus, hitting her arms like that would definitely weaken her, right? At the very least, it should mitigate some of that grappling of hers, lest she push too far and harm herself even further.

Speaking of-...Ami suddenly felt a sharp pain in her foot the moment she put too much weight on it. She cursed under her breath as she was definitely suffering the consequences of her actions. Trying to stand on her damaged foot was more than a struggle, and after kicking with so much force, using it for anything that bombastic was certainly out of the question. Still, her gamble paid off BIG TIME, as the Canadian woman was now slumped across the canvas looking worse for wear, wide open for the Prima Donna Darling to take advantage.

However, as Ami tried to stand back up, she looked at Parker from afar, hesitating for a moment. The way Parker kicked about in pain, the hissing and shocking yell she let out, caused Ami to freeze in place. Did she hit her THAT hard? Was it too much? Did she kick her in a bad spot? She didn't ACTUALLY injure her...did she? N-no...there's not-...Ami couldn't have-... "...oh please be okay-...please, please, please, please-..." She said under her breath, letting out a breath before finally moving toward the tall, slender brunette. She'd pull Parker up to her feet, standing her on those wobbly legs of hers. Quite frankly, it was rather inconvenient to muscle her up like this, all that added weight on her foot as she had to keep both of them steady while she attempted to put Parker down as softly as possible.

"S-sorry Parker...it'll be over in a sec...just relax-..." She said, her words a little nervous, lacking that bubbly and defiant energy she had just moments ago as she was worried for her opponent's wellbeing. She tried shaking those thoughts, but couldn't, so she focused on tucking Parker's head down between her thighs, hooking her arms, and dropping backward to trap the Canadian woman in a modified Headscissors hold, a Manami Clutch that Ami called the 'Doll House'!!! The Prima Donna Darling was hoping that the soft-style submission finisher that she had would get the job done...if only so that the two didn't have to fight anymore...

Spoiler

[Parker]

The kick had tore through Parker’s arms like a lightning. The crowd’s roar faded to a low hum under the pounding in her ears as she hit the mat, clutching her forearms tight to her chest. She’d taken hundreds of bumps. Preparations for throws and slams, even high falls from the ring. How would she have even begun to condition for that? Taking a clean strike from someone like Ami, a real striker. The pain wasn’t blunt or distant. It was white-hot and immediate, running up her forearms to her shoulders in searing, electric bursts that made her whole body twitch.

She’d drilled for everything, rolls, landings, even being slammed through tables, but you couldn’t drill for this. Parker’s fingers curled uselessly, trembling, and each time she tried to move them, another flash of pain darted up her arms like someone wiring live current into her veins. Her chest rose and fell sharply, sweat rolling down her temple as she winced, teeth grit and jaw tight.
When Ami approached, Parker’s instincts flared, she tried to shove her away, push off, anything, but her hands refused to cooperate. The twitching turned into spasms when she pressed her palms forward, and a strangled yelp escaped her lips as the agony returned full-force. It was like trying to lift a red-hot weight; every nerve ending screamed at her to stop. Her knees buckled, and Ami, looking as unsure as she’d ever been, caught her.

The next few seconds were a blur of movement, her head pushed down between the Prima Donna’s thighs, her arms hooked and wrenched back into a cruel knot. Parker’s scream tore out of her lungs before she even hit the mat.

Her body folded backwards as Ami fell, she winced expecting a hard impact on her head, instead she was pulled upside down, maneuvered up into a compact ball of tension, her legs bent awkwardly, her spine curved, her world had inverted and blood rushed to her face, some due to gravity, some due the sensation of feeling her backside suspended up in the air. The pressure around her arms was unbearable; they burned like fire and froze at the same time, and her fingertips began to go numb.

Sweat ran into her eyes as she kicked her boots against the canvas, thrashing violently in the grasp of a hold she didn’t even understand. The audience leaned forward as the referee dropped beside them, shouting over the noise.

“Ward! Ward, do you give up?!”

Her answer came through gritted teeth, voice raw, eyes bright with tears welling up from the pain in her arms.

"NO! I’M-NOT-GIVING-UP!"

Each word was punctuated by a jerking motion, a desperate attempt to buck free, to find any leverage. Her arms screamed, her muscles burned, her breath came in sharp gasps. She could feel her strength slipping, the numbing ache crawling deeper, but she refused to quit. She had no idea what sort of hold she was in and how it worked. Her expertise rendered useless, so desperation had taken root. She had to pull free, kick free, break free. Somewhere there was a place of escape she just needed to find it… could it really end like this, after all that work she put in?

She bit down hard, flexed through the pain, and tried to twist her hips, still kicking, still clawing for freedom through sheer willpower alone.

[Misfit_Alien]

Ami felt the moment her leg collided with Parker's arms...the reverberations of flesh and bone striking each other ran deeper than any amount of protective padding could afford to defend against. Despite her size, Ami packed a lot of punch into her kicks...for that reason alone, it was clear to assume that most of her knockout wins during her amateur kickboxing phase were through swift kicks that her opponents could never quite see coming. Even if they did, defending against them practically led to defeat. As Parker was experiencing, how could you keep your arms up for long after taking so much damage in such a concentrated spot?

Well, the Canadian combatant was looking to answer that question for herself as she struggled on the canvas, clawing and scratching toward freedom, doing everything she could to resist the pulling embrace of unconsciousness. With every second, another wave washed over her, threatening to send her under for good this time...but each time, she'd manage to surface above by a hair's breadth, narrowly evading defeat as she clung onto each fading ember, hoping to spark a raging inferno within herself that would allow her to fight through this, even if for just a moment longer. A moment was all she needed.

Meanwhile, Ami was struggling to keep her steady, as all of Parker's rocking and shaking was throwing her off-balance. Ami assumed that Parker was essentially finished, too injured to continue. So Ami went for a quick submission finisher to try and put her to sleep, or at least force her to tap out. All that blood rushing to her head couldn't be any good for her, so to see her prolong this by refusing to give up with such a wild and furious roar, paired with the fact that she only made it worse with all her thrashing around, left the Prima Donna Darling in a state of pure disbelief. Ami wanted to say something, to tell Parker to let go and relax, to not hurt herself any longer, that this wasn't worth overexerting herself. And yet-...she couldn't. Why? Out of respect? Out of fear? Was she so taken aback that she couldn't even find the words? Ami didn't know...

What the petite brunette did know, however, was that she was struggling to hold it all together. This submission was simple, yes, but given Parker's larger size and surprising amount of resistance thus far, it was becoming a chore to maintain. Yet Ami persisted, too stubborn to let go just yet, expecting the Canadian to give in at any moment. This was a mistake on her part, as Parker's ceaseless thrashing created tension not just for the Northstar but for the ailing ankle of the Prima Donna Darling, which was nowhere close to recovering just yet. Every little twist and kick from Parker sent another shock of pain into Ami's ankle, expanding a chink in her armor that Parker could expose. Any chain could break under the right amount of pressure. All it took was pinpointing the weakest link and shattering it into pieces...and with one final tug of defiance, Parker managed to collapse Ami's Dollhouse, her legs unhooking at the ankles, her grip slipping, and the full weight of the Canadian grappler coming down on her as she found herself pressed flat to the mat.

Parker would wind up rolling onto her backside, lying atop Ami's figure and face in a heap, and effectively pinning the Japanese-American woman to the canvas. In a shocking display, the referee moved in to count, as the position was completely legal. With both shoulders on the canvas, Ami scrambled, panicking suddenly as everything was falling around her like a house of cards.


"1...!!!"

"2...!!!"

"-"


Ami struggled and squirmed, every second that ticked by causing her heart rate to double as it pounded in her chest, an eerie sensation of doubt and anxiety sending chills up her spine as her blood ran cold. YET BY THE SKIN OF HER TEETH, Ami managed to shift a single shoulder off the mat, nudging Parker's body off to the side after having her sweaty upper back smush her face to the canvas, breathing aloud as she gasped raggedly, trying to process what had just happened, the world spinning around her and her ankle still throbbing with pain as she tried to gather her bearings...Had she lost? Was it over? Was Parker out of commission? She rolled onto her hands and knees, looking around...there was no music, just cheering, frantic yelling that sounded so muffled yet overbearingly loud at the same time, Ami unable to make sense of her surrounding as her vision blurred a bit, her adrenaline spiking as her heart raced on, eyes shifting around nervously as she lost track of where she was for a second...

[Parker]

Parker flopped out belly up with a muted thud, her brain registering the collapse of the Dollhouse a full second after her body did. For a moment she just lay there, chest heaving, vision full of blurry lights and the muffled roar of the crowd. Her torso felt like it had been crunched up into a tiny ball…which had probably been the point, and her arms, God, her arms, still pulsed with a numb, tingling burn that made her elbows twitch uncontrollably.

Ami’s grip had slipped. Parker had dropped. Unaware she had been spread over top of the Prima Donna’s body. From the corner of her eye she caught movement, the referee dropping down beside the pretty lady pileup.

“ONE!”

A panicked yelp caught in her throat as her arm shot up on reflex,only to realize the ref wasn’t counting her down. SHE was on top. Ami was the one pinned.

“…oh- Oh!” She sprawled wider, limbs flinging out like a starfish, trying to smother Ami without even knowing if she was actually pinning her properly. It was pure chaotically exhausted instinct, the grappling equivalent of throwing herself over an overstuffed laundry basket and hoping the lid stayed shut.

“TWO!”

But Ami kicked out. The shove jolted Parker sideways with a grunt, sending her rolling onto her stomach where she lay boneless, arms limp at her sides like they’d been disconnected from their wiring.

“Ow…” she groaned softly, flexing her fingers. They still tingled, but at least the burning agony that had been searing through them before had dulled into something she could almost ignore. Almost. She could already imagine the bruises forming, angry and purple come morning.

Her shoulders rose and fell as she gulped quietly at the air. The crowd noise faded into a strange hush around her, just the heavy breathing of two worn-down fighters collecting themselves like wreckage after a storm.

Slowly, stubbornly, Parker pushed herself onto her knees using almost no arm strength, letting them hang uselessly while she steadied herself with her core instead. Her hair clung to her forehead in sweat-darkened strands as she blinked her vision clear enough to look across at Ami.

The brunette was still gathering herself too,just as battered, just as shaken, both of them locked in this tiny, fragile pocket of stillness in the chaos of the match.

Parker huffed a breath that might’ve been a laugh if she had any air to spare.

Then, voice soft, hoarse, but warm in a way she didn’t realize she’d allowed to slip out, she muttered:

“…you uh… you kick like you’re trying to send a girl back to Canada.”

Her lips tugged into a tired, crooked smile.