As Bengal emerged from backstage, she stopped suddenly, scowling. She was in the L.A.W. arena, but this didn't seem like her typical entrance. Instead of stamping their feet to
her music, or shrieking with surprise at her pyrotechnics, the fans were all focused squarely on her opponent, who was already in the ring. The small, blonde woman had mounted the turnbuckle, and appeared to be having a conversation with the entire crowd at once. She had a loud, piercing voice, and her pink-dyed bangs bobbed up and down as she talked incessantly. She didn't even look at Bengal as the Tiger continued forward, stalking down the entrance ramp toward the ring.
As it turned out, Sierra probably didn't need to worry about her fans cheering for Bengal instead. Only a few members of the rapt audience even noticed the Tiger's approach, and they responded with uniform boos. The Tiger bared her teeth at them and hissed, before climbing onto the apron vaulting into the ring. She stared her opponent down, taking in her sparkling brown eyes, her pouting lips and mischievous smile. She was shorter than Bengal, and more slightly built - an interesting change-up for the Tiger, who had fought larger opponents during her last few matches. Still, her toned muscles and confident posture made it clear that she wasn't someone to be taken lightly. The young woman had finally stopped chatting with the audience, just in time for the ring announcer to begin speaking:
"Ladies and gentlemen!" The amplified voice rang out, shaking the dust off the rafters overhead.
"The following contest is a submission match, with no disqualifications! Introducing first...standing at a height of five feet, seven inches, and weighing in at one hundred and forty pounds...from Kolkata, India...THE BLAZE TIGER! BENGAL!" More boos. Bengal kept her face impassive, trying to conceal how angry she really was. When the referee gestured toward her opponent, however, the stands erupted in cheers, and the Tiger couldn't resist blowing out a puff of air in frustration.
What is this, a goddamn beauty contest? They haven't even seen her fight yet, she griped to herself.
"And her opponent," the announcer continued.
"Standing at a height of five feet, four inches, and weighing one hundred and thirteen pounds...from Marbella, Spain...LA DIABLESA! SIERRA! VELVERA!" The cheers swelled in volume, until it seemed like the roof of the arena might burst off from the sheer noise. It took a while before the excitement finally died down. Bengal took advantage of the lull to finally address her opponent.
"Let's get a few things straight," she spat, eyeing the young woman from her corner as she stretched against the ropes. "I don't care how 'mean' you think I am. And if you ever try to hug me, you'll be pulling back a couple of stumps.
¿Entiendes? " Bengal wasn't completely fluent in Spanish, but she had been tutored in various subjects during her childhood in India. She enjoyed throwing bits of other languages into her taunts, to get inside the heads of her opponent. She wasn't yet sure if that tactic would work here, though.
This little loudmouth doesn't look like she has anything inside her head to begin with.
DING-DING-DING! At the sound of the opening bell, Bengal started forward. She crooked one of her sharp-nailed fingers toward her opponent, beckoning her closer, waiting to see if Sierra would rise to the bait.
And if she does, I've got a little surprise for her...
Bengal, the Blaze Tiger
Sierra "La Diablesa" Velvera