Veronika Váradi vs. Armando 'Army' Rodriguez - Cause and Effect

[BlackAkuma]

Lower, lower, lower. Goddamn, this chick was flexible as hell.

Army wasn’t exactly a human submission machine like Veronika, but he’d done this particular move on enough opponents to know that it could get decent results. He’d gotten a handful of wins. Not much, since it wasn’t really his style, but it did the trick every now and then when he needed - or wanted a submission.

Credit where it was due, Veronika was holding out better than most of the women he’d applied this move on. He wasn’t sure if it was toughness or if they just shared the same stubborn streak, but whatever the case, it was working for her.

”Come on, just give up!” He gave her a few good bounces for emphasis, as the referee checked for a submission. ”You wanna be using a walker when you’re in your forties? ‘Cause this is how-”

Army’s sage words of wisdom abruptly ended when Veronika reached out and gave his eyes a good raking while the referee was distracted, blinding him and forcing him to let go as he tended to the wound. She wasted little time, too, yanking away before he could get his bearings, sending him into the ropes, and hitting with a stiff kick to the gut, one that forced him down to his knee.

”Fuck’s sakes-” With his vision still foggy, all Army could do was blinding swing his arms out, hoping he’d get lucky and smack his target with an errant blow.

[Weonna]

Veronika’s gamble didn’t pay off this time.

Army’s wild, desperate swing caught her flush across the chest, enough to knock the wind out of her and send her crashing hard onto the canvas. She landed flat on her back with a heavy thud, her body arching up as she groaned in pain, clutching at her ribs.

The crowd roared at the rare sight of Veronika being knocked down so abruptly, but she didn’t linger long. Gritting her teeth, she rolled under the ropes and dropped to the mats outside. Each breath stung, the ache radiating through her chest, but she had no intention of giving Army the follow-up he wanted.

Veronika staggered back, her heels clicking against the floor as she put distance between herself and the ring. Her retreat wasn’t cowardice—it was calculated. She moved deliberately toward the stage ramp, leaning against the barricade for support as she steadied her breathing. Every second out here bought her time, and every inch of space forced Army to decide whether to chase her or let her recover.

[BlackAkuma]

Army was almost more surprised than Veronika was by his hit landing paydirt, but he did - a nice, clean hit that sent him back to the canvas. It wasn’t much, but it gave him the moment he needed to regain his senses and see straight again.

It was tempting to just follow her out under the ropes and attack her straightaway, but as she neared the barricade, a better idea occurred to Army, instead of the direct approach.

He rolled out of the ring…on the other side. Looking over her way from the opposite side, he waited until she was up, then began running around the perimeter, picking up speed with every step. Faster and faster and faster, rounding one corner than another until she was straight ahead.

With her in sight, Army barreled towards Veronik at a full clip, dipped down, and attempted to spear ram his shoulder into her chest, looking to spear her into - or maybe through - the barricade.

[Weonna]

Army came charging like a bull, head lowered and shoulder primed to cut her in half. The crowd gasped as he came thundering in, but Veronika’s instincts didn’t fail her—at the last second, she slid to the side, letting his full momentum carry him forward.

With no target to hit, Army’s body smashed through the barricade instead, the impact rattling the structure and drawing a roar from the audience. Veronika, meanwhile, leaned against the ramp, sucking in a deep breath and brushing her hair out of her eyes. Her ribs were still burning, her chest still aching, but seeing him sprawled out after missing the spear gave her the few seconds of relief she needed.

Not about to waste them, she swooped back in. Grabbing a handful of his head, Veronika yanked Army up with surprising strength and pulled him toward the nearest steel post. With the referee barking at them to get it back in the ring, she ignored the warning, stepped aside, and attempted to slam his skull straight into the cold, unyielding metal!

[BlackAkuma]

It was like a car crash.

There Army was, coming at Veronika with full speed, fully prepared to smash her up against the barricade. It looked like she was fully open for it, vulnerable, as dazed as she was ever going to be, so he had no problems throwing his whole body into the effort…and then, then, she moved, right when it was too late for him to abort, but early enough that he could still process what was about to happen, to make sense of it.

It sucked. It sucked a lot.

Army hit with enough force to make the barricade move and knock some of the audience members back. He flopped to the floor, groaning, but Veronika was never the type to let him wallow for long. Sure enough, she came in fast and grabbed his hair, forcing him to stand up and dragging him back to the ring.

Before they got there, though, she took a pitstop, when rammed his face into steel steps. Army shot up and grabbed the edge of the ring for support as he stumbled away, fighting to stand straight from the edges of unconsciousness.

[Weonna]

Veronika didn’t waste a second.

Army was dazed, leaning on the apron, breathing in short, ragged bursts — exactly where she wanted him. She grabbed his waistband and shoulder, rolled him under the bottom rope, and slid in right after him.

But she didn’t rise.
She crawled.

Smooth… slow… deliberate… her body slinking across the canvas like a patient predator. Fingers spread, hips swaying, her eyes locked on him with a predatory gleam as she closed the distance. Every inch forward was a taunt in itself.

When she reached him, Veronika climbed onto his torso and straddled his waist, sitting firmly on top of him. Her hands planted on his chest to pin him down, her hair falling forward like a curtain.

Then—
CRACK.

A sharp headbutt smashed into his forehead.

Then another.
And another.
And another.

Spoiler

Each hit was stiff. No wild swings. No wasted motion. Just a sadist’s rhythm as she hammered his skull, her breath brushing his cheek between blows, her expression cold and intimate all at once!

[BlackAkuma]

As bad as this was, the situation wasn’t hopeless. Army could pull this fight back in his favor, he knew it. He just needed a few moments. Some time to breathe, to plan, to think. He had the stamina for this.

All well and good, except for one thing: Veronika knew it, too, and she wasn’t about to let that happen.

He tried to pull back, but she was on him before he had the chance, grabbing him by the waist and sending him back into the ring, back into her playground. Army laid on his back, grimacing, blinking, trying to regain some semblance of sense.

That was when he felt it, felt her, slithering up his body. He tried to sit up, but she pushed against his chest and pinned him back down. Though she didn't weigh much at all, it didn’t matter much at the moment. A child could’ve held him down. ”What are you-”

The answer to his unfinished question came when she jerked down and smacked their skulls together, ramming into him with a vicious headbutt. As painful as it was, Army was no stranger to head trauma - that alone wouldn’t have been a big deal. The problem was the surprise of it all, taking an attack he hadn't even fathomed. Veronika was tough, he could admit that, but he never could’ve envisioned a woman nearly half his size coming at him like this.

Then came the next one. ”Wait-” And the next one.

By the fourth one, Army was left glassy-eyed and limp, staring up at her in a stunned stupor as his brain tried to process the assault. Even through his haze, though, he couldn't help but admit he was a little, well…excited. He didn't fashion himself as a masochist, but…

His gaping mouth closed and open again, as he struggled to find the right words. ”That…” He paused at the coppery taste on his lips. ”That all?”

[Weonna]

Veronika froze for half a beat at his slurred little taunt — not shocked, not offended… but delighted.
The corner of her mouth twitched up, as if he had just given her a gift.

She slid off his chest in one smooth motion, rising to her feet with that eerie grace of hers. No gloating this time. She simply curled a finger at him like she was beckoning a lover, not an opponent she had just head-butted half senseless.

Then she grabbed a fistful of his hair. Letting him feel every inch as she peeled him up off the mat.

“Good,”

she murmured — soft enough that the ref couldn’t hear, but Army could.

“Stay awake for this.”

She tucked his head under her arm, her free hand sliding along his back, finding her balance. Normally, with smaller opponents, she’d slip into her signature cradle setup — the Widow’s Drop — but Army was too thick, too heavy, too tall to cradle cleanly.

So she adapted.

She tightened her front facelock.
Took a breath.
Shifted her hips.
And jumped.

Veronika kicked both legs out, trying to pull Army down with her entire bodyweight — an improvised jumping DDT, the closest she could get to her usual kill-shot with a man this size.

Spoiler

Perfect setup… but still a setup.

If Army wanted to counter it, he had the window.
If not?

His skull was about to bounce off the canvas again.

[BlackAkuma]

Since they met, this woman had knocked out Army three times. She’d tricked him, seduced him, and left him drooling in the middle of the ring. They weren’t friends. By all rights, he should’ve hated her guts.

And he kind of did. But, at the same time, as she stood up and looked down at him with that little, evil smile of hers, there was no ignoring the apparent effect it was having. He was turned on. More than a little, too. Which annoyed him, which made it even worse.

Plus, she was a good fighter, which was a green flag for a guy like him. Too many boxes were being ticked.

Blame the head trauma. It certainly wasn’t helping.

The next thing he knew, Army was being pulled up, kept in her grip, as she slapped on a headlock. He didn’t know exactly what she was about to do, but even through his haze, he could recognize that it was likely some variation on the DDT - not something good for a man with an aching head to take. It wouldn’t be enough for her to win, but it would leave him dazed enough that any submission could finish him off. He couldn't let that happen.

Veronika leaped up, jerked downwards, prepared for the plunge, and-

”Nope.”

Army widened his stance, slammed his foot down, and brought her momentum to a crashing halt. But just because he stopped the plunge, it didn't mean they were going for a ride. With his arm wrapped around her waist, he pulled her in dashed forward, and attempted to ram her body against the nearest turnbuckle, hurtling forward hard to slam her up against the pads with his full weight behind the impact.

[Weonna]

Veronika hit was hit hard.

Army’s full weight crushed her between his chest and the turnbuckles, driving the air out of her lungs in a sharp, ugly gasp. Her spine jolted, her head snapped forward, her knees buckled. For a moment she slumped against the pads, arms draped over the ropes, chest rising and falling in shallow, stunned breaths.

The DDT counter hadn’t just stopped her — it cracked her momentum.

Her eyes fluttered, that predatory gleam dimming for the first time in the match. A small shudder rolled through her body as she tried to push off the corner, but her legs weren’t cooperating yet. She managed an inch, maybe two, before gravity pulled her right back into the buckles.

Her head hung forward, hair spilling down, one arm limp against the top rope while the other weakly clutched her ribs. The confidence, the prowling control — briefly gone, replaced by raw vulnerability.

Army had all the time and space to hit whatever he wanted next.