Alicia Soto vs. Angela Belti - Lost In Hollywood

[BlackAkuma]

***
Match Type
Standard
Victory Conditions
Pinfall, Submission, or KO
***

The LAW crowd was always notoriously hyped, but tonight, they were a little more energized than usual for the upcoming match. Most matches on the regular cards were fairly random affairs, or at least seemed that way at first blush. One-off encounters and debut matches were the norm, and while those were popular, there was always a craving for bouts with a little more meat on them. Something to latch onto, something big to speculate about, something with a little story behind it.

If that was what they wanted, they were certainly getting it tonight. Angela Belti vs. Alicia Soto. The story told itself: After Alicia had handedly beaten the younger, inexperienced Desdemona in their shared debut, the mother was going to get a piece of her, showing the up-and-comer what a veteran of the sport could really do. Youthful vigor up against seasoned focus, the elder stateswoman and the hungry rookie.

There was electricity in the air, and the voltage increased when Angela’s theme music came out over the loudspeakers. The stage lights dimmed and red lasers darted around the ramp, as a thick fog came wafting through the curtains. The unmistakable frame of an Amazon came through the gloom, and as the music picked up, Angela Belti emerged.

♪Well, this old town,
All the light came down
Down…♪

La Donna Perfetta

While Angela was always a proud, focused woman in the ring, there was an extra serious on her face tonight, a fiery intensity that was almost palpable as she made her way down the ramp. The audience had a surface understanding of what this was about, seeing a mother about to avenge her daughter. But while that was at least some of the truth, other angles remained unseen.

They had no way of knowing, for instance, that Dizzy and Alicia had met a week or so ago and had a little ‘training session’. They couldn't know about Dizzy lying to her about it. They certainly weren’t aware of Angela coming into the gym to find her daughter suckling on the Hollywood Siren’s legs, nor could they know about how her daughter and her newfound friend insisted that they had been putting up a serious effort and not just rolling around for a couple hours.

Angela was skeptical of it all, and there was a part of her, a real part, that wanted to just ignore it all. Let Dizzy live her own life, cast her off, accept that she could do whatever she wanted. But there was another part, still, that had to protect her daughter, knowing how wild LAW could be, and wanted to get the full measure of anyone she spent time with. And then there was the part of her that simply did not like the way Alicia Soto looked at her, wanted to deck the disrespectful rookie, and was happy to have any excuse.

Either way, she would be satisfied, though she couldn't say the same for her daughter. She spied Desdemona as she came down around the corner of the ring, seeing her sitting in the front row, leaning on the guard rail. The last week had been more trying than usual between them, with Dizzy not quite getting what a match with Alicia was supposed to solve and pouting about it. She couldn't blame her for the misunderstanding. Despite being raised alongside the business, she had only recently become a part of it, and the unwritten rules were a mystery to her. The moment Alicia defeated her daughter, the two of them had been put on a collision course, and this was just the inevitable outcome. Two women with two different views and two different goals - for wrestlers, there was only one way this could go. Maybe, after today, it would all make more sense to her.

Angela stopped in front of her daughter, meeting her annoyed look with a solemn one, then turned away and made her way up the stairs, sliding through them as the lights came back on. With her fist held high, she marched towards the center of the ring and roared to the crowd, claiming her win before the bell even rang. ”VITTORIA!”

[HotWheels]

To get in the most callous, dismissive mood she could, that feeling like she owned the place, Alicia usually spent her time in guerrilla before a match leaning, waiting, as casual as could be. Tonight, however, she was in constant motion, pacing with arms swinging and legs churning, amped to the edge of composure. In the couple days before this match, she hadn't gotten nervous like she should have for an event so big. No, she had started piecing this together, the pros and the cons of this challenge she had accepted, and as she saw it, there was no way this could go wrong for her whoever ended up having her hand raised at the end of the match. She need only bring a hundred percent of everything in her, to the point of making some mistake and leaving with a mostly broken body. That didn't matter. If she took the one-time terror Angela Belti, whatever her age, to the brink, she would be made with the crowd, with LAW, and with Mama herself. That last one surprisingly made a difference to her.

She didn't throw on her skates until Angela's music died down in the arena, and she rushed out, teeming with intensity even before she heard "LA Devotee" hitting the speakers. The already-charged crowd enjoyed its second eruption, and this time around, Siren truly drank them in as she pushed her shades down and eyed them up. This night felt like one for pageantry, especially if she woke up tomorrow with three thousand bruises. It should be a moment as much as a match. She did not linger overly long, however. If she did, she might pop from anticipation.

Spoiler

She caught sight of Dizzy on the skate down the ramp. Siren passed her once with just a glance from behind her shades, but as she took a lap around the ring and made it to her again, she flicked the shades off and at the little Italian with a subtle, mischievous smirk. Feelings of sympathy had crossed her mind a few times for Dizzy's situation. This was her mom and, best Siren could tell, the person she had become most attached to in this new world of wrestling about to beat each other to hell. Nah, that didn't mean the Latina wouldn't beat mama to hell if she got the chance, but she still got it. Just best she not think about it, and once she hit the stairs, she wasn't.

Because there, in the ring, stood her business for the night.

She looked a little bigger in her regular ring attire. Good. Siren stared her down from the ropes before doing her usual sex-bomb act and swinging into the ring, but once inside, her eyes settled with finally on the self-declared... "La senorita perfecta, in the flesh." Mighty bold claim, even to someone who called herself a Siren. And Siren looked at her, no, tried to look through her with the knowing smirk on her face, as if to say you're not so perfect as you claim. She meant to prove that tonight, not because she wanted to shame the woman, but because she sounded like she needed a dose of the kind of new reality only someone like Siren could provide about the state of this modern wrestling world. Ironic, since she was the one pretending to be a Hollywood bitch.

With her message silently elicited, Siren provided one last strut for the benefit of the crowd already eating from their hands, and once she reached Dizzy's corner of the first row, she popped her hips and walked back to mama, ready for the bell.

[BlackAkuma]

Dizzy just leaned on the barricade, watching Alicia roll on by. She did manage a small smile and a wave as her friend came close, always happy to see her, but she slumped back down once she was out of sight.

Weird. This was so weird..

As much as she wanted to enjoy the bouncing beauty as she made her way around the ring, she was more than a little put off by the fact that two of the most important people in her life - hell, the only two important people in her life that she could think of - were about to batter each other into oblivion, and neither of them seemed to see the problem with that. If anything, they were more excited than usual. Dizzy knew her mother well enough to recognize when the typically-stoic La Donna Perfetta was excited, and she couldn't remember even seeing her this energized. Alicia was nothing but sharp movements, playing up the crowd, feeding on their energy, looking like she was ready to take on the world.

And here, on the sidelines, sat little Dizzy, with a front row seat to a fight between her mother and the woman that, at minimum, she wanted to be her best friend.

”Uuuuuuuuuuh.” She slouched back against the seat and groaned, eliciting a few odd stares from the nearby fans. ”I’m just never gonna have a normal life.”

Angela’s attention went to her daughter, noting her distress, but only for a flash of a second as Alicia made her way into the rig. She kept her position in the center of the ring, never wavering, even as the Hollywood Siren made her way around the ring. Credit where it was due, she knew how to work the crowd, and it wasn’t just in the outfit she wore and the way she strutted. True to her name, she carried herself like a star, overflowing with confidence, bursting with boldness. If matches were won with audience approval alone, this would be a squash.

But it wasn’t, and they both knew that well. If Alicia wasn’t up to snuff, it wouldn’t matter if the entire world was in her corner. Angela would grind her to dust.

Eager to begin, she stood with arms folded as the Hollywood Siren came her way, only letting them down when she was close. The last time they met, she’d come close to butting heads, but they’d kept their distance, barely respecting their personal space. Now that they were about to clash, however, she threw that to the side and moved in, mashing their foreheads together and daring Alicia to push back. ”Are you ready for me, bambina?” A smirk came across her face, mirroring her opponent’s to perfection. ”You seem a little scared, to my eyes.”

[HotWheels]

Mama definitely had something to say. They had nothing in common that Siren could tell, which their appearances in the ring made all too clear to the adoring audience, but the Hollywood hottie could see that same uncaring presumptuousness in the woman's eyes that anyone who knew Alicia had seen many times. Though the smirk already seemed painted on Siren's face, it deepened when that presumptuousness turned into Angela marching right up to her to say whatever was on her mind. Good for Mama Belti; Siren didn't know if she did the whole smack-talk thing in the ring or just broke people. Of course, she had already said plenty in passing about her opinions of the Siren, but it looked like she wanted it direct in the ring.

Siren felt a jolt of defiant energy creep right up her spine when the bigger woman bumped heads with her, but she didn't retaliate like she might have normally. No shove, no poke, no slap, though her instincts as a girl from a hard neighborhood told her to pull one of those out on the spot. Chumps tried to start shit before the match started just because they felt slighted, and Hollywood Siren didn't plan to look like a chump. No, she just held her ground, the satisfaction on her face never once daring to leave as she stared into Angela's eyes. It was hard to tell mother and daughter were even related sometimes, but those eyes looked familiar. Just...harder. More wearied.

She didn't fail to notice the crowd thoroughly enjoying their proximity, and she may have swung her hip a little farther out, just to acknowledge them. But she couldn't pander to their needs tonight, either. They could stick their support behind her performance. Angela needed to consume her attention, and damn, did she ever in that moment. Throwing all their complications aside, she struck one hell of a figure.

Having held back twice now, Siren decided it was time she ran her mouth properly. "Think your eyes are givin' out on you, anciana," she taunted. "Should have gotten those checked before tonight. Gonna be hard to track me."

The ref, with the wisdom to let the moment settle, stood with arm half-raised if a quick bell was needed.

[BlackAkuma]

Though the bell hadn't rung, the match had already started in important ways. Wrestling was just as much a mental game as a physical one, if not more so, and Angela had won more than a few of her matches before even touching her foes. Opponents who might’ve stood a chance against her, even defeated her, had been worn down with a little pre-match intimidation. Put a little weight on them. Make them feel your size. Cover them in your shadow . Force them to go inside their own heads, to doubt themselves, to second-guess their every movement. It was the sort of thing that could pay dividends, and she was keen to see if it would have any purchase with Alicia.

It didn’t. Or, if it did, the Hollywood Siren did a deft job of hiding it. Focused eyes, unwavering poise, and that constant smirk. Confident, this one. But was it deserved.

”’Anciana’.” She had a little laugh, deep and mirthful, more out of the situation than anything. ”I don’t know what that means, but I don’t like the tone. Let’s see if I can’t put a little more respect in that voice, eh?”

Angela eased the referee’s blood pressure by finally stepping off and making her way back to the center with a large step. She dropped down into a traditional grappling stance - legs bent, arms out, eyes forward - and held her position as the bell rang, its echo sounding throughout the arena.

The moment it hit, Angela was off and running, closing back in one more to try and force a lock up. Despite the charge, though, she didn’t come in with her full strength, only a big chunk, keeping some in reserve. For now, she just wanted to see how strong the Hollywood Siren was under all those curves, and if she had the reflexes to handle a quick start.

[HotWheels]

She could laugh, too. Siren made sure to elicit that the happy sound coming from Mama Belti made for a pleasant surprise to her, even snickering once herself. Despite Angela's intent to make the half-Latin beauty uncomfortable with this exchange, it actually brought her comfort to see that Angela was not going to act like some stoic, feral beast ready to rip her arms off. There was some humanity she found in the woman with that brutal past and the iron grip on her own daughter, and she felt pleased to see it. More ways to start chinking away at that veneer of perfection.

And good, she didn't like the tone. Siren wasn't surprised, but still. As the larger woman departed, leaving Siren in the middle of the ring, the Latina felt like she needed the last word. Had to rely on instinct in some sense, after all. Otherwise, what the hell was the point? "Means 'old lady,' for the record," she called after her. She had a huge doubt that any sort of slight could worm its way into Angela's iron mind, but it entertained the Hollywood hottie and kept her feeling loose, anyway. Maybe she would bring up that Norwegian porn star at some point, see what reaction that elicited.

But she should use her half-second wisely. Stepping back, she quickly worked through a loose, dance-like warmup from her neck down to her toes before she, too, straightened for a fighting stance: her fighting stance, anyway. She and Angela looked complete opposites, the veteran all strict, classic form and the Siren only offering a smooth lean and active arms, almost like a baseball infielder waiting for a pitch, to show that she was ready. The ref took their stances as gospel and rang the bell.

Yep, there she came. Mama Belti hadn't changed her aggressive motive in the ring much since the old days; Siren had watched a few of those tapes this past week. She was ready for the approach, but Angela was still like a freight train. Siren didn't have trouble getting her hands up, but on the impact, she lost a full foot of space on her half of the ring as her wrapped feet skidded. Big as she was, she didn't have any delusions that this would be anything short of the first time she faced anyone stronger than her, and she was happy to at least go ahead and confirm that as fact. But she wouldn't give so easily.

After that initial jolt and loss of ground, she hardened, putting enough into her legs to strengthen and hold her ground despite a momentary teeter. Muscles seemed to emerge from her shoulders to her calves, and she shoved back, hard.

[BlackAkuma]

While Dizzy didn’t want her Mom and Alicia to fight, she would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious about a few things - namely, she wanted to see which of them was stronger.

Her mother definitely had the size advantage, but it wasn’t that big of a gap, right? Only, like, two or three inches. She’d felt Alicia’s power - among other things - when they sparred, and she thought she had a good handle on how powerful the woman was. Enough to compare it with her mother’s, seeing the way they both moved in the ring and the things they were capable of. Dizzy thought that they were in the same ballpark, with maybe Alicia coming out ahead.

But then, her mother held back, afraid that she might snap Dizzy in half. So how much did she really have in the tank?

Just as she was pondering that, the clash to answer the question occurred, with Angela slamming into Alicia with enough force to make skin clap. The younger wrestler was sent back a step, and while she put the advance to a stop, the difference was notable. Not the best way to start things up.

”Having trouble with the old lady?” She couldn't resist.

Angela smiled at the exchange, though it faltered as Alicia began to push back, summoning more of her own strength. It wasn’t unsubstantial, either. While it had been ages since she was a proper bodybuilder, she still had an intimate knowledge of the female form, enough to appreciate the raw power bubbling beneath the surface. There was power here, and not just the typical ‘big girl’ strength, either. Alicia’s claims about frequenting the gym had good evidence.

Took a step back, a single one, before she put her foot down and ground them to a halt. For a second, it looked as if Alicia might gain some real ground, if she only kept it up. ”Acceptable.” Angela gritted her teeth. ”But…”

Full power, then. Angela dug in and surged forward, giving Alicia a taste of her 100%, recruiting every muscle she could find to steamroll her foe backwards. Her body swelled as well, muscles emerging from her skin, veins popping, as she went for a sheer display of dominance and force.

[HotWheels]

Oh. The taunt. This woman did have some spunk in her. Siren, even straining, filed that away. Pulling that out during this match would be a private victory too, if nothing else, so even through the gasps of effort, she shot back. "Said 'old.' You're the one addin' 'weak' to that." She need not add it, however. Siren didn't have the senses that a wrestler of Angela's years might, but she knew enough about enough different types of wrestlers to know that even though she was expending a chunk of her energy, Angela was not. And all that had earned the Hollywood hottie was one step. She was right for her mental assignment of hoss to the veteran.

Around the time that she thought she should stop throwing so much of her own energies into this exchange was when Angela shoved back. And hell knew she shoved back. Siren was instantly on the back foot, and ended up halfway to toppling over backward before she reeled the other foot back to keep up with the other one. But she was going back, and she felt altogether confident that no amount of resistance she offered would stop her from heading all the way back to the ropes. That, she didn't want. Yeah, she was going to put everything into this, but the everything should matter. She was just an empty car on the Angela steam train at this point. The crowd, who had ooped and aahed on the back and forth, got stuck on a long oop at the sight of Siren, hair whipping, reeling back.

Siren didn't care to adhere to any of this old-school honor, though. Just because Angela had locked up and wanted a shoving match meant she had to play ball until she got run through. Angela might have ticked that box beside strength in the comparison, but the Californian thought she could mark that notch beside athleticism. A foot from the ropes, she made her move. Planting one foot, she tried to shift forward with just enough momentum from her lower body to hop and drive a knee into Angela's abs or chest. She would probably still hit the ropes, but maybe Angela would have to think twice before acting further.

[BlackAkuma]

One step. Two. Three.

Angela powered forward, giving Alicia the full scope of what she was capable of and highlighting the gap between them. It wasn’t a substantial boundary - in fact, if they’d been the same height, she might even go so far as to say that this would be going quite differently. But the scales were in her favor, and there was simply no stopping her momentum at this point. Alicia was going to the ropes, whether she liked it or not.

Judging by the reaction, it was definitely the latter. Just as they were closing in on the ropes, just as it looked Angela would have her foe boxed, just as the referee was moving to break them up, the Hollywood Siren lashed out, raised her knee with a sharp strike that landed flush on the bottom of Angela’s ribcage, coming far closer to the solar plexus than she would’ve liked. She was already close to the ground, anyway, and the strike brought her even closer, forcing her to take a knee.

She didn’t stay there long, however. Angela had only touched the mat for a moment before she rose up fast and swift, swinging her arm and shooting her forearm towards her opponent’s chest as she rose, hitting her with a clubbing blow to put her against the ropes.

A European Uppercut from an actual European. She hoped Alicia wasn't so rocked that she missed the little joke.

[HotWheels]

Siren did miss the joke, but not because she simply didn't think of it. More because she didn't get the chance to appreciate it. Shining off of the effectiveness of her counter-strike, the Hollywood hottie smiled a private smile as she reeled herself back, got her feet back from under her, and took the heartbeat's time necessary to think about how hard she should try to punt Angela away from her and at what angle when the bigger woman started falling to her knee. Once her weaker left leg was planted, Siren was already turning to raise the opposite leg. She planned to wheel and drive the foot into the side of Angela's shoulder.

Angela was up first. A tanned knee hit a pale bicep instead of a foot hitting a shoulder, which was enough of a problem in and of itself. Far worse, however, was the rising fist that joined the rising form of the veteran as she started to rise, and right between her breasts, where the blow would hurt the most, she felt like Angela hit her with some smooth rock she had mysteriously found wedged in the canvas. There was not any standing straight against that blow, and the half-Latina beauty flicked back like she had taken a shotgun blast.

She was left with one arm draped over the ropes, hair dangling. After a second to get over the stun, she started doing that natural self check-up one did after taking a blow, first making sure she was breathing without pain and then rubbing at her sternum through her shirt. Once she was sure nothing had collapsed, she only had two thoughts filling her mind: Mama's striking was still pretty good too, and she better get an arm raised to protect her face. She did that, but knew it wouldn't help her with anything else the veteran brought her way.