Francisca "Devil Cat" Herrera vs Isaiah "The Prophet" Bowen
Submission Match
Victory can only be declared when one wrestler taps out and/or verbally submits to their opponent.
Francisca couldn't wait to get her hands on Isaiah again in the ring after the dupe that had been pulled on her in her loss to the so-called 'Isabella'. She'd been cheated, thinking she'd been facing a true female opponent then, but the truth had been utterly different. She seethed inwardly at the memory of her swift loss, it made all the more frustrating as she had already beaten Isaiah once. This next match would cement the true victor, and she was brimming with confidence. She'd have him begging before his match was done. She settled the mask of her maroon leotard more comfortably over her slim features and waited for the announcer to call her forth. Francisca “Devil Cat” Hererra
Her music Knock Back blasted from the speakers and out she went, thick dark hair tossing as she stepped into the light. She strutted down the ramp, running her hands down over the swell of her breasts as she went, winking and blowing kisses in response to the cheers and cat-calls that poured from the stands. Grinning deviously, she dove under the bottom rope and perched on all fours like a cat, her gaze scanning the rows of seating with twinkling eyes. Eventually she leapt upright, doing one last circuit of the ring before taking up position in the centre of the ring, staring intently at the ramp where Isaiah would emerge. It was time for payback.
Isaiah chuckled to himself as he got ready. The Isaiah Francisca faces today will not be the same as before. This was all kind of silly to Isaiah. The Isaiah of old was dead, and Isabella, in hindsight, was rather stupid, though Isabella did teach him a valuable lesson: He didn't need her to be a good wrestler, or to be brave. The old Isaiah and Isabella were dead, and Francisca wasn't prepared for what was brought up in its place. Her music faded, and his music, a sharp contrast, started, and out came the new Prophet. Spoiler
Spoiler
His music, "Have Faith" by Aviators, couldn't fit the match more, especially from Isaiah's prospective. To Francisca, this was about revenge, for Isaiah, this was about faith. Faith in himself and his own abilities. One verse in his entrance music particularly struck a cord, especially in this match:
Lord, allow me repentance
Let me hear what I've done
Seek the devil's acceptance
Show her mercy and run
So where does this end
With a bullet or silence
Won't let you pretend
That the father can't hear
Can you show me some strength to
Wash away my fear?
However, the chorus answered the verse's question:
You gotta have FAITH
To deliver from evil
You gotta have FAITH
In the shadow of death
You gotta keep pace
Looking over your shoulder
You gotta embrace
Your final breath
You gotta take up
Your sinner's burden
To wear it on trial
Like a crown of thorns
You need to hold tight
Like a man on a mission
You gotta cut off
These devil's horns
As Isaiah made his way into the ring amidst an "ooh ahh" response from the crowd. Isaiah glared at a rightfully perplexed Francisca when the song came to "You gotta cut off these devil's horns" Isaiah reached into his coat and pulled out a Bible and opened it up to the Book of Isaiah and held it aloft for the Devil Cat and all of the LAW fans to see. It was to be her fate. He took off his coat, his hat, and his mask. The greatest test of faith for Isaiah was about to begin. Spoiler
Francisca's eyes widened in confusion at the figure that emerged from the tunnel, a masked, coated individual striding down towards her with music blaring, gathering equally baffled exclamations from the fans. Was this the same person? The bill for the match said Isaiah Bowen, but this spectre bore little resemblance to the wimp she'd defeated not so long ago. He made his way down to the ring and faced her casting a cold glare at the Devil Cat - she dimly noticed the line in the song that seemed to prompt it - something about cutting off horns.
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as the figure raised a bible, holding it out for both her and the fans to see. Any snide remarks fled from her mind as she watched the display, unease tingling up her spine. Eventually he put the book away, shedding his coat, hat and mask, to reveal that yes, this was the same Isaiah Bown, but he had a very different aura about him now.
"You... you can make all the fancy moves you want," she said uncertainly, her normally unflappable calm thrown a little off balance by this unexpected and rather unnerving entrance from the Prophet. "But this is still a wrestling match. C'mon, let's do this, Prophet." She shook out her limbs, facing down the new incarnation of Isaiah, telling herself that nothing had changed. She could beat this guy, no matter what.
Isaiah couldn't help but smile at his opponent's reaction to his entrance, at the same time, knew that what she said was right, that entrance wasn't going to win this match, as the Devil Cat had a few mind tricks of her own, which cost him last time, "For you, this match is about revenge, for me, it's about faith, and you're about to see what happens when faith endures..." Isaiah went into his corner and waited for the match to begin. He knew this was a submission match, so there would be no doubt who the victor was. Isaiah would have it no other way...
Francisca rolled her eyes as Isaiah wittered on about faith, all the religious claptrap beginning to grate on the wily Costa Rican. She glared at the man opposite, settling into her wrestling stance in preparation for the match to being. "This match is about me kicking your cheating ass to the curb, puta!" she spat rudely at her adversary.
Then the bell rang, and the Devil Cat shot out of her corner like an arrow from a bow, looking to slam into Isaiah in a lock up, attempting to use momentum and the element of surprise to shove the male wrestler back against his corner.
"Thanks for proving my point, and you may call me El profeta I'm not an uneducated man." Isaiah quipped as the bell rang. Francisca charged Isaiah, looking for a lockup, Isaiah obliged and was almost to the corner when he found his footing at the last minute. It seemed to Isaiah that their strength was evenly matched for the most part, he looked down and saw the Devil's outfit and body and immediately blushed, he hated that he was still attracted to this succubus incarnate. He knew he couldn't let Francisca use it against him if he wanted to win...
Francisca managed to drive her opponent backwards at first, her sudden charge catching The Prophet slightly off guard, but the man managed to regain his footing just before she could slam him into the turnbuckle. She gritted her teeth as the two wrestlers jockeyed for position, but didn't fail to notice the flush in Isaiah's cheek, or his eyes flickering down to examine her shapely frame.
"Don't get too distracted," she quipped with a mischievous smile before attempting to twist free of the lock up, trying to get a hold of one of Isaiah's arms and wrench it around into a painful armbar, hoping to take advantage of his wandering eyes.
Isaiah grunted as it seemed that their strength was evenly matched. Francisca said something about being distracted, "I'm still a guy, lady, and it's not like you're hiding anything..." Isaiah quipped right back. Apperently, Francisca had realized the same thing, and soon the lockup was broken, but, Francisca, blinded by rage, locked in an armbar submission, not realizing where she was: right in the corner! Isaiah looked at Francisca in a mild amusement, "Damn fool..." he said as he casually lifted his leg into the bottom rope, making the referee break the hold.
Francisca snorted in annoyance as the referee made the call and she spotted Isaiah's foot placed against the bottom rope. A scowl crossed her features, both at her lack of attention to their position in the ring, and how quickly her opponent had bailed out of the hold in such a cowardly fashion.
The referee approached insistently. The Devil Cat nodded, a smirk crossing her lips, before she jerked a knee up into Isaiah's stomach. Almost as soon as the blow connected she released her hold, stepping back with hands raised innocently.
Isaiah slowly got up and looked at Francisca, "I think I need to clear something up. When I talk about faith, I don't mean faith in God. I mean faith in myself, in my own abilities, and without cheap tricks." He continued, "I admit it, the whole Isabella thing was cheap, and you have every right to be upset with me. Hell, I'm upset with myself for stooping that low. I had that match waved. It won't count in the record books. But, this one will. On guard!" He yelled as he tried to strike his opponent down with a lariat.
