PoW Match; Loser is the property of the opponent for the weekend.
Pinfall, submission, or KO finish
"Eres una idiota."
Perhaps jabbing her finger at herself in the mirror and calling herself an idiot in Spanish was not the strongest pep talk Gabriella could have chosen, but her self-annoyance felt a decent enough motivator in this situation. She attributed that tendency to her writing hobby; all good authors must have engaged in some self-loathing.
The purpose for her annoyance? Gabby let it race through her head as she rumbled her way to guerrilla and rushedly adjusted her sleeves and leotard into their most presentable positions. She had...unwisely agreed to a match that should have intimidated the living sin out of her. Yes, yes, Gabby had sworn to herself that she would turn down no chance to get in front of a crowd and would take every opportunity she received. When she had sworn that, though, a "Prisoner of War" match against a guy hadn't come into her mind. She had been thinking more like...wrestling in her underwear or maybe doing some fanservice-y kissing or maybe even diving into a pool of mud. Having a guy as her property, or crazier, being some guy's property, that, mmm, got the butterflies going.
Gabby tried to beat those butterflies down as she heard her music. She should have just...said something to Alicia. Gotten some advice, at least. Considering she had been borderline hiding from her sister for the few weeks since she arrived, even training at times she knew her sister wouldn't be at the gym, leading with "how do I fight a guy who might get to take me home all weekend??" didn't seem like a good conversation starter. Spoiler
What did it matter now? She had to get going. With the biggest huff, she emerged to the perky beat, keeping each step in line with it.
Almost forgetting herself given her concerns, Gabby did remember to stop on the steps, mock-write her name in the air with a finger, and draw a heart with that same finger for the crowd. Her thoughts, once she got to waving in the ring, devolved into "is it better that he be ugly or pretty?"
She was truly at the top of her game tonight.
Last edited by HotWheels on Fri Mar 03, 2023 1:35 pm, edited 1 time in total.
It had been a while since Domino stepped into the LAW ring. He's had some... unconventional matches, to say the least, and he's not a particular fan of them. But it's what LAW specializes, essentially what sets it apart from other federations. And while he's kept himself out of the particularly ecchi setups, this would mark the second PoW match he's had. The first, though won, ended rather abruptly and disastrously - not to mention confusingly. He struggles to get into the mindset of claiming someone as property and doing anything against their will. It just feels... wrong. Tonight, no matter what happens, he means to keep to his principles. Even if she protests being treated like a human.
"God, that was weird," Drake reflects, pausing in his preparation.
"You're up, Domino!," comes a voice from outside the dressing room.
He should consider himself fortunate. Most of these rooms are scarcely more than a locker, often communal. This one came equipped with a couch and futon- oh my god, he just realized why there's a futon present. Amethyst eyes narrow on it suspiciously before he resumes preparation. He's already dressed in everything needed, from the black and white boots and trunks to the black pads. All that's left is tugging the shirt up and over his head, casting it into the provided locker. Domino!
As the girl's music plays, Domino laces his hands together behind his neck and tilts his head back. Incidentally, a thought very similar to hers runs through his mind. Is it better if she's unattractive, or cute? On the one hand, he can't say he's quite used to wrestling girls yet, so if she's unattractive, it might help keep focus. It'll also take away any risk of awkward should-he-shouldn't-he moments when he takes her home. Oh, but wait. What if she's a massive gorilla-woman and wins? Thoughts of an oversized beast thumping a club impatiently on the floor growling, "Me WaNt SnU-sNu!," fill his head. Eyes widen, and he hurriedly puts his focus on the monitor to get a look at her, right in time to watch her write her name in the air and flash a heart.
Aw! She's adorable! And ridiculously pretty. It may complicate things a bit later, but that's Future Domino problems. Present Domino is just happy that, should he happen to lose, there could be much worse things to be stuck looking at all weekend.
That said? He's come to LAW for a reason. A purpose. If he has to prove his mettle here, then so be it. Attractive or not, this girl is going to be another reason for the world to recognize he's more than a model.
The arena lights darken, and the backboard above the entrance comes alive with sparkles, starlight pinpointing through a velvety black 'sky'. The titantron comes alive with his music, a thumping inspirational beat hand-chosen by the man himself to reflect his journey. Entrace Music
As the lyrics begin, Domino steps out onto the ramp, poised with a determined confidence. A pair of spotlights kick on, focusing on the young man, illuminating his features - from black hair and roguish bangs to the trim body, defined and firm pectorals, sleek abdominals, and toned limbs, not an ounce of weight displaced. As a highlight reel plays overhead, showcasing a number of his more infamous moves, including the Total Eclipse tombstone piledriver, and the Shooting Star body splash, landing square across the belly of an opponent, the refined athletic body of Gabby's opponent tonight is fully on showcase.
Arms lifts to either side, his head tipping back with eyes shut. This is it. Time to remind the world what he can do.
He strides down the ramp, the spotlights tracking him the entire distance. But along the way, he drifts to either side of the aisle to give a high-five, shoulderbump, or receive a quick hug from some over-enthusiastic female fans. Upon reaching the ring apron, he grabs onto the middle rope above and hauls himself up, before simply slipping in between the ropes, smooth and well-acquainted with the space. But in a sudden burst of motion, he races up furthest turnbuckle, standing perched neatly upon the top ropes. He points out over the roaring crowd in a slow sweep, nodding to the sea of darkened faces, before bringing his fist in to thump against his chest a couple times.
At last, Domino drops down from his perch and pivots to let the referee-girl inspect him for weapons. Here's to hoping she doesn't get a little... extra handsy this time. But in the process, his gaze affixes to the girl across from him. Brunette, big brown eyes, a pretty ponytail, toned body, and an incredibly sweet face. If she's a good person on top of all that? He might have his hands full this match. But for now, those piercing amethyst eyes rest on her, studying her, trying to get a feel for her in silence.
Gabby didn't usually fall back on crass words (she normally liked the fancier words of distress in Spanish and English both), but his arrival merited the most succinct expression of her turmoil. After some pageant waving to the crowd and some bouncing between the ropes to show herself off, she stopped cold to see who appeared when her music gave way to another's. Having perhaps held books a little too close to her face over the years, Gabby had to squint through the general arena haze to get a good look at the man who appeared. It was that first good look that brought the word from her lips.
She probably would have said shit if he had been ugly too, to be fair. It was more a shit that acknowledged that the mystery man existed and had not disappeared in a puff of smoke backstage. Her hands knotted together as she was hit fully with the all too real nerves and excitement. It was not as if Gabby felt utterly clueless when it came to potentially steamy situations. She had written a few stories that would make H.L. Swan a little hot and bothered, and still more she had...daydreamed a great deal. To deny to herself that she had some fantasies would be an absolute lie. But her experiences had amounted to some making out behind bleachers and some excitement with people she already knew.
And crap, as he got closer, yeah, he did rank well on an "attractive even among wrestlers" chart that she made in her head. It was an elaborate chart. Gabby quietly squealed into a palm like a girl quietly gossiping about boys at recess.
However, after that momentary outburst, Gabby worked to keep composed rather than just...pace. She mostly ended up chewing a fingernail as she moved aside so he could enter and rush around the ring. Good, great, he looked about as athletic as she was, too. That was not an advantage she could count on too much. Catching herself in said chewing and also in staring, Gabby threw her hand back down to her side and pursed her lips at herself. Ogling and thinking about the results of the next ten minutes were good ways to go ahead and write "loser" on her forehead.
Rather than do that, Gabby decided to occupy herself with preparation, and tore into her usual warmup: a quick version of a gymnast's typical warmup before a floor routine, the lightest dance complete with a few high legs and long stretches. Maybe she could distract him doing that. Yeah, that was the ticket.
It's difficult to get a feel for her, Domino's realizing. She seems all business. Which is fine! No complaints! Better than if she were to opt into something more sultry and distracting. Like, you know, stretching and showing off her supple figure.
Sigh.
His gaze reflexively travels along her body as she goes through the motions; from her perky chest to the slim line of her wast, her smooth stomach on display. Long, toned legs, the way her ponytail bounces as she moves. Yep. He would've preferred she be ugly. Kind of. There's still a chance she's a jerk, which could solve everything. But looking at that face and those eyes, that cute little ascot-choker-dealie she's wearing as a part of her attire - he isn't liking the chances of that being the case.
The referee-girl finishes inspecting him, and Domino grabs the top ropes at either side behind him. He leans forward, stretching his arms out, before releasing and rolling his shoulders. When signaled, he approaches the center of the ring, head canted to look down at the shorter girl.
All at once, he decides: screw it. No reason to treat her like a potential enemy. He's never done that with people before, and she's certainly not done anything to earn that now, even with everything on the line. So when the referee waves an arm and the bell sounds off - *DING!* - he offers his hand forward, palm upturned. Not for a shake, but clearly expecting her to place her hand in his all the same. Should she grant him her hand, he'll raise it and tip his head forward, presenting its back with a whisper of a kiss.
"Domino for now. Real name for later," he greets, offering a small, but sincere smile. "Think I lucked out, having you for an opponent in a match like this. Not that I'm gonna lose, but it seems kind'a like a win either way." The playful banter is punctuated with a wink.
Gabby's routine became an enemy all its own, because it was explicitly that: a routine. Once she established her rhythm stretching, she sank into her own thoughts long enough to plot out an entire scenario where she ended up as the most awkward PoW winner or loser in human existence, and now she had a face to put to the person who would witness her bumbling. Gabby chewed her lip, but trying to place herself more in the moment only led her to glance at him again, which did not do her any further favors. The ring following a second later made a pleasant respite. The wrestling part of the wrestling match worked a wonder to get her focused.
She clapped her hands together like a good former gymnast and shook free, literally and figuratively, of the image of him as a potential weekend escapade and just as an opponent. Then he had to go and throw a hand out to her after she turned. Gabby blinked at his hand then at him (and maybe his chest too) before she reached out to shake it, wearing that thin-lipped, awkward smile that people wore when making eye contact with a stranger walking by on the street.
She might have made it through fine had he not gone and done...that.
Every good writer knew about that plain old stereotype with the kiss on the back of the hand, but Gabby didn't get the chance to think it through rationally and that maybe he would pull something like that just to take her guard down.
No, instead, she went full-on giggle that was both giddy and awkward all the same. If anyone had told her she would get a kiss on the hand like they were to joust instead of wrestle, she would have laughed them out of the room. She did laugh now, but that nasal laughter that came when a girl just didn't know how to react to something. She continued to stall with that laugh and get a good look at the area of the mats to her immediate right. She would know that part of the mat very well.
Phew, okay, how did one respond to that with the soon-to-be PoW guy? Gabby's usually eloquent mind came up with some variations of "yeah," "good," and "that's neat." She chose to speak just as she came up with slightly better. "Yes, well, that's true. You're very lucky!" That was slightly smooth, right? Sounded confident to her ears, anyway, though it had been delivered with all the confidence of a teenager before prom night.
"I'm going to-" She used that bridge to pull her hand away lightly, and she gave him a courteous little bow of her head, thinking she needed to do something to not come across as so awkward yet, anyway.
Oh, also, yes. They were under the bell. Gabby, trying her best pleasant smile, lightly fell into a fighting stance to trigger him to do the same. She wouldn't be able to wrap her head around further chivalry, so fighting was in order.
Last edited by HotWheels on Sat Mar 04, 2023 12:02 am, edited 1 time in total.
Oh lord, did she have to react in the most girlishly adorkable way ever? Domino had anticipated a more refined, possibly even aloof response. Something about that ascot and ponytail spoke class to him, poise, elegance. What he got was a giggle and shy look-away. She's a charmer without even trying. Or if it is a ruse and intended to manipulate him into a false sense of affection, then she's absolutely a dangerous siren who knows her craft entirely too well. Because it worked. Domino is confident she's a sweet person, despite the profession she's opted into. Like he's one to talk.
As she stances up, Domino turns his head and lifts a fist to his lips, as if politely clearing his throat. Ahem. It's purely for the theatric entertainment of the audience, of course - the display of the girl ready to take him on, and the noticeably larger man being terribly casual about it. But in an instant, he flashes from that to going on the offensive! Hands lash for her frame, the left grabbing for her at the collar just beneath the neck, while the right... well, it's either seizing onto her elbow, if she's quick enough to meet the lockup, or is going directly for her shoulder to assert immediate control.
Either way, the amount of force applied is kept measured, wanting first to feel her out. He isn't being gentle by any stretch, and if she doesn't rise to the occasion quickly, she may find herself pressured into a backwards arch quite soon. But he's gaging her. Teasing out the girl's strength and technical competence, wanting to see just how much finesse, skill, and fitness the beautiful bombshell before him brings to bear.
That dignified response Domino expected? Gabby had certainly wanted to call on that, too. The reputation she wanted to build would see her garner the sort of respected aura received by all the best storytellers of the world. But, nope. Schoolgirl gobbledygook just had to invade and just had to infest her mind at the first hint of things getting as spicy as she wanted them to get, and worse, at a show of chivalry that probably should have made her roll her eyes more than start giggling. This is why she knew she communicated better through the written word...
Well, whatever. That was where she had to leave it. She did add a quick good luck and another courteous nod when they peeled a bit further away from each other, but that did not seem to exactly provide a second chance at her first impression. Oh well. Maybe none of the cameras had picked up her words, anyway, and he would be the only one to know she was a dork. Not a great start for her stance with the person to spend the whole weekend with her in some capacity, but-
And but it would have to remain. Gabby thought herself ready, but fingering at her thoughts, she started when he zipped back towards her. Watching his hands, she saw the one going for her collar and managed to get her shoulder thrown forward to meet him without being shoved over. She threw out her other hand to try and stop his momentum; that was the right choice, too, since she got a hand first against his chest, then higher when she realized he was going for a lockup. She matched him after that momentary bout of fumbling, but it quickly became evident that he was the stronger. Gabby smartly gave up a couple of steps toward the ropes before setting her feet to resist.
Okay, good. That got her mind off of stranger things. Now to think of how to dodge whatever her threw at her out of this lockup.
In fairness, Domino appreciated the raw sincerity of that moment. It felt more telling than any manufactured air could offer, and a better insight into the person with whom he'd be spending his entire weekend. Welcome to Wrestling Tinder, amirite? But she seems sweet. And the less guile she puts up, the more he's warming up to the notion.
To his delight, she isn't immediately overwhelmed in the lockup! She meets him with equal measure, granted one hand going to his chest rather than where one might normally, but let's be real - he saw where she was looking before. He isn't holding anything against her. His side-gig is being paid to look good. He knows the score. Though with that said, she's putting forth a valiant effort to meet him head-on, even as she falters back those steps. Amethyst eyes lock onto cinnamon browns, fingers digging into her skin a bit as the contest intensifies steadily. But he opts out of trying to outmuscle her, abandoning the original idea of pressing her back into the ropes. Rather, he pushes up against her elbow to pop her arm high and twist with her, not unlike an inside pirouette in a dance.
Except in this dance, when the girl's back is safely snug against the man's chest, he doesn't spin her back out. Rather, his arms lock down tight against her stomach in a waistlock. All at once, one form encompassing the other, Domino seeks to transition the hold into a more controlled position. Biceps around her ribs, forearms pressing tight along her belly, and hands holding fast to the opposite sides of her waist, Gabby may yet find herself squeezed back into him. Toned physique flush along her back, his hips locked firmly against her rear, his head tilting in close beside her head to avoid errant backwards headbutts. At this proximity and their shared state of undress, there's no doubt she can feel his heart pounding hard against her, potentially among other things, as well as his warm breath breezing across her cheek to her shoulder.
Gabby braced and waited. Being the more patient half of her generation of the Soto family did her much good; Gabby contentedly waited, straining just enough to avoid getting herself shoved into the ropes or tossed straight over them. Her eyes held a studious intensity. Of course, just staying here all night didn't seem like much of a plan against someone who could probably lift sixty to seventy more pounds than her at minimum, but she did not figure he would wait that long, either.
He didn't. Gabby could feel her arm getting thrust up by his grip, and she reacted too late to do much about that act itself. But his motion to shift into a dance-like twirl with her, trying to get behind her? That played into everything the former floor gymnast and ballet dancer knew. She couldn't stop him from getting in position since that would have required straight strength, but she could work her feet as well as nearly anyone. Taking well-considered steps while she felt his arms reaching around her stomach, she slipped herself far enough forward that he had a hard time pulling her back tightly against his stomach.
Bending forward, she let his forearms meet tight abs, but she stuck her butt out into his waist, totally ignoring the way her thrusting rear would look to the crowd, so he couldn't keep reeling her in. All the while, she panted and focused, trying to keep the advantage closer to neutral by pinning her elbows down against his forearms. He pressured her waist, but Gabby could take it for a while with the way she was bent forward, and if he got frisky by trying to reel her in a second time, she had plans to stomp down on his feet and jab her bony elbows into his arms as hard as she could...or maybe throw an elbow back at his chin or a fist at his nose. Good ideas, yeah? Yeah.
Domino was still certainly feeling out his opponent, her level of competence and strength. So far on strength, he wasn't surprised. She looks athletic - the kind of athletic that didn't come at the cost of a girl's physical beauty. Toned, fit, a competitor's physique. And for someone of her stature, to match him in strength she'd likely lose much of her feminine charm in favor of HULK SMASH qualities. From a competitive standpoint, he's glad she hasn't taken it that far - he keeps the advantage. From a 'This match is a PoW' standpoint, he's double glad she hasn't hyper-worked out to look like a monster. Both are selfish perspectives. He's made his peace with that.
This just leaves the matter of competence. Is she a student of the game? Does she understand body mechanics well enough to keep pace in chain wrestling? Where is her level in technique? He spins her out and maneuvers in behind her, intent on tucking in nice and tight to establish full control over her, only to find- she seems to've all but instinctively put in defenses to at least keep him from obtaining full control in the waistlock. Though his arms have encircled her stomach, she's pushing into them while clamping down with the elbows and jutting back with her rear. Granted, her rear isn't... quite... hitting the waist, thanks to their height disparity, and the visual isn't lost on the more lewd folks out in the audience, but from a technical point of view, it's the right call.
Dat rear doe.
Domino makes a quiet 'erk' sound when her backside juts into him, eyes widened briefly and immediately doing his level best not to think about it. He's been lead astray before by LAW and it's damnedable wily females! He isn't ready to consign her to that particular category just yet, mind! Still, the position does emphasize the physicality between them. His arms pull against her midsection, noting the muscles supporting her abdominal region appreciatively. But with her elbows trapping his arms against her, and her rear keeping him from getting a control position over her, there isn't much he can do yet! So he yanks on her stomach in an effort to straighten out her back, potentially even hoisting her from her feet a few inches. "Good reflexes," he murmurs to her.
But before he can get too far there, those bony elbows begin hammering into his forearms, earning winces with each one. The grip loosens slowly, giving her the opportunity to potentially slip free!
