Misfire [for Terracotta]

[HotWheels]

Having built her entire wrestling persona on coming across as a dismissive, spoiled shit, outright fury might not have fit as a perfect match for the attitude Alicia tried to convey to the outside world. But she knew subtlety didn't come across in pictures, either. The more menacing she looked, the longer someone would stop and stare at the picture, the more likely they would buy the product, yadda yadda. Outside of psychology, which weirdly appealed to her, the only other class she had cared much for in high school was economics. She knew how to sell a product - namely, herself.

And Daiya picked up on it well, too. Shit, this couldn't have been going much better. For all her prideful preening, the woman had some sense in that head of hers. She played her part recoiling from the silent "outburst," and she transitioned right into "yelling" back herself. In fact, she added the dialogue herself. Alicia hid a smirk on the side of her face away from the camera as she leaned away, looking like a woman taken aback by the retort but not willing to back down in the face of the retaliation. It was simple, obvious, to the point, and even Alicia would be excited to see the pictures later.

The eager one's words broke them out of their acting, and Alicia took the chance to fluff out her hair again and adjust her top to make sure the girls weren't escaping. A problem for a woman her size, and she was surprised Daiya hadn't shaken out of hers entirely yet. She only half-listened until she heard "Daiya" and "upper hand" paired together, and she lifted her eyes to listen a little more closely. The self-promoter in her bristled at the idea at first, but the emotion passed as soon as it had come, never breaking through to her features. She wasn't so much of a dumbass to think it mattered who won what in a photoshoot, and any idiot could see she was the more slender woman.

Ultimately, she just nodded a slow nod and squared up with Daiya again. The nod to her was less committal. "'bout the only dance I know." That was a lie - though she didn't know shit about ballroom dancing, which this could pass for - but for the sake of remaining squarely at odds with her own insular tendencies, it was something conversational to say. Her hands lifted to meet Daiya's, and they clasped.

Daiya was pushing, too - seriously pushing. Alicia had to jolt to keep her arms in place at first, but once she settled in, she maintained enough power to keep them even... then to let Daiya push into her, the "strain" more evident on her face than it was in reality... then to start giving a bit. Daiya was... all up on her the whole time, but Alicia let her focus face the other direction, thinking about the muscles rippling in her back, her arms, her rear for the camera. Once they were at what would seem to be a breaking point, her stoic face would twist into one of concern, and she eased down onto a knee, then her ass, before she looked up at Daiya with her own inquisitive expression.

"All the way to the floor, or transition?" It was the trainer in her asking, especially since she didn't know which might look better for the shoot.

[Terracotta]

Daiya had been worried that Alicia may object to her coming out on top in the test of strength but whatever misgivings she may have had, Daiya had not been able to detect them. She was a keen observer but the Latina's poker face was unreadable even to her. The test of strength went beautifully. Daiya could feel Alicia's strength even if she was the designated loser of the exchange. She was able to match her power easily. Easily enough that it left Daiya with no doubt in her mind that luck had nothing to do with Alicia's undefeated streak.

"Fantastic muscle definition! You're looking great, Alicia!" Daiya was starting to feel a little envious. Not of the praise the crew were lavishing upon Siren, but of the opportunity to share the view they were currently enjoying. While her husky figure was pleasing in it's own right, Alicia's astonishing physique was providing a visual feast that she couldn't really match in this case. Looking good, however, was secondary to Daiya. Her priority was looking strong. And Alicia provided her with a golden opportunity to do just that.

Hollywood Siren began to falter, as they had planned and Daiya was going to make the most of it. One of the ways Daiya compensated for her lack of durability in the ring was by not only making sure she looked powerful but by making her opponents look and more importantly, feel weak. It didn't just help her save her reputation after a loss, it had practical psychological applications in matches too. More than a few times she'd met a foe who could probably have defeated her handily but Daiya's confidence shattering theatrics had left them doubting themselves enough for Daiya to steal victory from them. And Daiya fully intended to use those skills she had honed on Alicia.

She met the Latina's look of concern with a domineering sneer. As she began to ease down to her knee, Daiya flexed hard and drew herself to her full height to make the appearance of pushing down hard on Alicia. She didn't increase the force that she was pushing with but she did make herself look even larger than before. When Siren went down on her ass, the Monégasque didn't just stand over her: she towered over her. The pose the photographers caught wasn't merely a bigger wrestler overpowering another, it looked more like something out an old pulp novel: a menacing and powerful barbarian queen completely overwhelming a valiant yet utterly outmatched heroine. The crew were uncharacteristically silent at scene before them. The only sound in the room being the click of their cameras. It was Alicia's query that broke the silence and the spellbound hold Daiya's dominant charisma had over them. Her face softened, the performance complete for the moment.

"To the floor. Once you're down, I'll strike a pose and you can throw me off. Then we'll transition into the your hold. Agreed?" If Alicia gave the go ahead, Daiya would continue. She would straddle her, sandwiching Alicia's torso between her massive thighs but making sure her weight was supported by her knees, not squashing Alicia beneath her or squeezing her and then she would pin her hands to the floor. Her heavy breasts would be inches away from smothering Alicia as she loomed over her. The gravity pulling down on Daiya's bra providing a private window for Alicia to catch a tantalising glimpse of her dark nipples, out of view of the cameras and their operators.

Once the cameramen snapped their pictures, she released Alicia's wrists and leaned back, striking a pose that put her arms behind her head and emphasised her biceps and core. Yet she also flashed a knowing sideward glance toward the camera, almost hidden by her mane of black hair. It was look of acknowledgement, that she knew she was dominating Siren for the audience's viewing pleasure. She certainly looked dominant as the victor of their test of strength. When she was done she braced herself, aiming to make it easy for Siren to throw her off so that Alicia could move on onto her hold.