Alicia Soto vs. Angela Belti - Lost In Hollywood

[BlackAkuma]

The lesson here: Use the ring to your advantage.

Angela still remembered her early days, and how easy it was, even with training, to forget that you were in a wrestling match and not a fight. Fight or flight, primal instinct, whatever you want to call it. Certain things dulled with age, but for her at least, ring awareness wasn’t one of them, and this was a case where that paid dividends.

While she hadn't pegged the Hollywood Siren as a submission wrestler, that notion was challenged when she could’ve sworn the woman was using her position to go for an armbar. It was hard to be certain, but the way her legs were moving around, that was certainly the impression she was getting. It was good, then, that she managed to snag the ropes and break things up before they got further out of hand, but that was a real warning, a wakeup that she might have been dealing with a more technical foe than she had originally surmised.

To Alicia’s credit, she didn’t milk any count of the hold like most might’ve been, breaking it up and setting her free once the call was clear. Angela rolled to her feet, stood up quick, and nodded towards her opponent as she rolled her shoulder, grateful for the freedom. ”Oh, my arm will earn its keep today, don’t worry.” She rolled her neck around, then stepped forward. ”I already gave you a taste, but if you want more…”

Arms up, knees lowered, head on a swivel. Angela moved out towards Alicia once again, looking to tie up with her and reset, curious to see what the younger wrestler would go with now that they understood each other a little better.

[HotWheels]

Sometimes, Siren missed the simplicity of a straight up schoolyard brawl. Ropes didn't get involved. Referees didn't get involved. And much as she tried to show herself a rule-breaker in most every way, the Hollywood hottie didn't want to ruin a good thing by looking like a chump who needed to cheat her way to victory. Yeah, outside of the ring, she probably would have wrenched that arm down like she planned and gone on about her business. Tonight, in this kind of match where she had something to prove to everyone involved and watching? Nah, she wasn't going to pull any bullshit.

She did end up giving Angela a faint push, but just enough to get her moving and prove her impatience. And, yeah, to save her back from that weight. The old lady didn't take to long in popping up, though, and once she did, the half-Latin beauty with a tug on the ropes and a roll of her shoulders to work some more kinks from between her shoulder blades. She probably would have rushed right back at Mama once they reached their feet if it wasn't for the woman running her mouth, which the Californian simply could not abide without a retort. "Keep givin' me more reasons to try an' bend it the wrong way. I'm listenin' to all of it."

Siren would get both arms, as it turned out, as Mama came forward to search for another lock-up. They had played this game already, and the heavyweight had already figured out where it led. Time to take her ball and go home. She huffed in bratty displeasure with that in mind, but she did march over to throw her hands up and meet Angela just the way they had earlier, arms crossed between bodies and palms slapping onto solid muscle. But she didn't push. After the lock and a brief bracing of her form to get her footing, the beauty flashed a smirk before the grip on Angela's shoulder and neck tightened. Another high knee was not her plan, though she hoped the veteran would think so.

She threw herself hard to the left, trying to find Angela's disbalance again. The bigger they were, and all that. Once there, Siren threw her foot out, trying to catch Angela on her right ankle and kick that leg out from under her.

[BlackAkuma]

Dizzy looked on from ringside, leaning on the rail without even thinking, getting fully wrapped up in the whole experience. So far, she wasn’t sure she liked what she saw. While Alicia hadn't been outright dominated in the match so far, it definitely hadn't gone the way she wanted, with her mother coming out ahead when everything was said and done. She could hear murmurings from the crowd, people doubting that the Hollywood Siren was up to the task here. The gleam was coming off.

Nope. No, that wouldn’t do. With a huff, Dizzy stood up and raised her fist. ”Come on, get your head in the game!” She called out, her tiny voice getting some impressive distance. ”Siren! Siren!”

It wasn’t much, but a few fans chimed in with her, giving a small upswell of support that didn’t go unnoticed by Angela, bringing a slight smile to her face as she marched forward to engage. Whether Alicia realized it or not, getting her daughter interested in anything was a hard battle to win. Whatever the situation, she had to give the woman flowers for that, if nothing else.

That smile dropped when they hooked up and she felt the smaller woman come in tight, preparing for something. A strike, she guessed, and she was ready for it, already moving her arms to catch and counter, but that turned out to be the play her foe was expecting.

Instead, the rug was pulled out from under her as her opponent shifted weight and shot her leg out, bringing Angela to her knees with a quick trip and a yelp. She didn’t stay there long, pushing her way as soon as she could and trying to spin about to face her foe, but even a short moment like that could be an eternity in a match like this.

[HotWheels]

She heard that.

The Hollywood hottie hoped the small choir that started chanting her name (that she didn't fail to notice came from Dizzy's corner of the ring) didn't do so out of pity, just support. While she was too busy dealing with la dama grande here to shower them in attention by way of raising their heartrate, but Siren did cast the quickest, sharpest glance in that direction in acknowledgement before it was back to business. She could give them something once she got one over on big Mama here. With the way things were going, if that didn't happen soon, she was going to need the pity. Or get fuckin' pissed. That was the more likely of the two.

But her plan to stay evasive in the lockup worked. Mama didn't move her feet quickly enough to match Siren's dodge to the right, and she had enough strength to shift the bigger woman's shoulders as they remained locked up. As soon as her foot collided with a strong ankle, however, she released her grip on the big Italian to let her fall to her knees. Alright, good. Didn't do shit beyond get her down, but it was something that bought her a couple of seconds.

And fuck it. She was going to be stupid and show off with those couple of seconds. Letting Angela play her wise veteran's game and trying to match her was getting her nowhere.

Knowing that Angela would try to course-correct to face up with her again, Siren abandoned the spot where she was standing, taking two strong steps towards the ropes that still sat nearby. Once there, Siren grabbed the top rope in both fists before hopping and letting her feet land on the middle rope. Using the momentum, she launched, and she was sure she could hear a gasp from the closest rows. Knowing where Angela was behind her, she just tilted her head to double check and led with her shoulder, trying to propel herself into Angela's side off the rebound.

It might not even put much of a chink in Lady Perfect's armor. But if she could send the big woman flying, skidding, that would send a message. Change the pace. That was what she needed.

[BlackAkuma]

Angela couldn't lie and say that slip up was a little irritating, wearing on her nerves. A part of her wanted to just write it off to old age and say that her feet just didn't move as swiftly as they used to, and while that was certainly true, she wasn’t going to pretend like that was the only thing going on here. The hard truth was that Alicia had gotten the better of her in that little exchange, and whatever jitters she might’ve had at the onset were slipping off. The wind was changing.

Problematic, but she could and would deal with it. With the opening she’d made, Alicia would almost certainly be coming at her, trying to cut her off before she could fully recover, but Angela would have a lariat waiting for her.

She spun about, arm wide, looking to clobber her foe…and found nothing. Alicia was not where she was supposed to be. It was a small ring and the Hollywood Siren was a big woman, so it didn't take long to find her again, but by that time it was far too late.

Angela got her arm up out of pure reflex, but that was all she could do as her foe came flying towards her like a big, Latina heat-seeking missile, crashing into her chest with a flying shoulder. It wasn’t often that women in their class took flight, and even rarer that they took flight like that, but that just made the move all the more surprising and effective. It hit with enough force to send Angela clear off her feet, flying all the way to the center of the ring, where she landed hard on her back and rolled over to her chest.

This time, she stayed down, only able to groan and roll about. She was far from done, but the wind had been significantly knocked out of her sails for the time being.

[HotWheels]

She got her.

It probably didn't look too pretty, but the flying Californian could already hear a rising of the din as her body collided with a pair of Italian-import airbags. Yeah, big girls weren't supposed to unleash those kinds of moves. That was the stereotype, so whenever it happened, people got a rise. It was a cheap way to get people invested in her, yeah, but she was good at it, too, which the people backstage in LAW didn't seem to get before. Maybe they would take note of this; another party she could leave impressed after this match, win or lose.

And she could feel Angela give way. The flying Siren collapsed to the floor, stopped dead by the impact given the size of the two of them, but Angela got tossed back nonetheless. As the Hollywood hottie threw her head up to see where she would land, she was pleased as hell to find her rolling over several feet away. For only a heartbeat, a look of surprise crossed the Latina's beauty's face at her own success, but she quickly replaced it with the sharp, haughty clarity of a woman who knew she would get the better of her opponent.

She wasted no time. Aches plagued her between the bowling-ball action and Mama Belti's earlier blows, but she willed them to remain minor concerns as she executed a near-kip up (with a little extra help from her hands compared to the usual) to get back to her feet. This woman could see and feel nearly everything coming at her; she had even come a split second from stopping that flying shoulder even though the big beauty had the drop on her. Siren needed to make sure, no matter her awareness, that the hits came hard enough that Angela's being ready for them didn't change the outcome.

Taking off for the far ropes, she hopped Angela's sprawled legs and gaining momentum with steps that rattled the whole ring while the crowd worked up again at seeing the burst of motion set fire to the more technical pace of the match. Dark hair flew wildly. The heavyweight sank deep into the ropes given her size, bounced back, and took off toward Angela again. No hopping this time. This time, she leaped and looked to stomp both feet down into the big Italian's torso.

[BlackAkuma]

Alicia got her. Damn it.

Angela never quite garnered the patience for the floppy stuff when she’d come up, preferring to stay with traditional, tried and true methods, even as the winds of change blew against her. Call it stubbornness, call it vanity, call it caution, but she’d never seen a good reason to jump out of a ring that wasn’t on fire. She thought it gave her solid fundamentals, and it did, but that could be used against her, as her foe just expertly displayed.

Good on her. Angela would give the Hollywood Siren her due flowers. But the match was far from finished, and she was already well on the path to recovery.

She had only begun to sit up when she registered that her opponent was on the move, running around the ring, heavy footsteps coming towards her. That alone was a small shock, not expecting her to be back on the attack so soon, but so be it. What, was she coming with a splash next? A senton? An elbow drop? She could handle those. Maybe even roll through and go for a pin, if she timed the momentum, right. She didn’t have the time or energy to just roll out of the way, but she didn’t need to.

Or so she thought, right up until the moment she saw Alicia jumping up above her, drawing her feet in for a stomp, one back by her leg strength and not inconsiderable weight. She had enough time to realize what was about to happen, but not enough to stop it.

Both heels crashed down in Angela’s chest, and it felt like someone had driven a knife straight into her. She shrieked, blurted out a few garbled Italian curses that she hoped Dizzy couldn't hear, and rolled away even further from the point of impact, a painful journey that nearly took her out of the ring. She only managed to grab the ropes at the last second, keeping her on the ropes while she kicked and writhed on the apron.

[HotWheels]

Siren had never once tried to string together runs, flips, dives; always, those moves she pulled as a surprise, to give an opponent a shock before switching back to good use of her bread-and-butter striking and power arsenal. Thing was, the big Latina was just that: the bigger woman in something like ninety percent of her sparring, demo matches, and official matches thus far. But she wasn't bigger than Mama, and if she was learning anything about the powerhouse Italian, it was that a lot of miles were on those legs. Maybe she was never that fleet of foot to begin with, with all those top-heavy muscles. The Hollywood hottie had herself a target and a strategy forming.

It probably didn't seem like much of a strategy with her in the air for a goomba-stomp (speaking of Italians). But two feet landed squarely on Angela's chest, hard enough that Siren herself was jolted from her feet all the way up to her neck. With a surprised grunt, she toppled over backwards and landed on her ass before allowing herself to flop on her back, legs elevated. Probably made her look stupid, but right now, she didn't care. That hurt quite a bit: just as much as a stomp from the turnbuckle. But if Siren's ankles and knees hurt after the landing, Angela would be in agony.

The aching Latina popped up through a wince to see if she was right. And hell yes, she was. Angela had escaped all the way to the ropes and lay there writhing. Chewing her bottom lip, since somehow that helped with pain, Siren again pushed to her feet and started to march over with her patented Hollywood strut. The referee, however, intercepted her. Siren shot her the dirtiest look, but whatever, bitch was just doing her job. But it did shake up her thinking, and maybe for the better. Angela had options at the ropes. Maybe Siren needed to knock her free.

Again the beauty beelined toward the ropes behind her, though her steps were a bit slower after that landing. Less momentum, yeah, but she didn't need a ton of that for what she had planned. As she bounced off, Siren rushed again at Angela like a soldier trying to breach the gates of a fortress. She had plans to baseball slide into the woman's side to knock her onto the outside floor, not considering that the ref's interruption might have taken up enough time for Angela to recover.

To her credit, the referee ran for her life to get out of the way.

[BlackAkuma]

When they sparred, Dizzy would often tease Angela about how her chest would make her immune to certain attacks, giving her a natural defense that genetics had denied her. Just a little fun joking about their dimorphism, the sort of thing you would expect from a mother and daughter with two wildly divergent body types.

But now? Oh, did she wish that were true, that her chest gave her some kind of magical protection. Mio Dio, did that hurt.

It wasn’t the first time she’d taken a stomp, but moves like that usually came from the smaller wrestlers, never from someone with the kind of size and heft that Alicia brought to the table. The effect couldn't be understated, a move that rattled her all the way to the core. She even thought her heart had stopped for a second, but a few moments of measured breathing had everything under control. In, out, in, out. Bring it under control. Steady, steady.

She was good.

With that under control, she took a moment to gather stock of the situation. Whether it be through instincts or just dumb luck, she’d rolled over to the ropes, which was about where she needed to be in order to buy some time. But she wouldn’t have long. Alicia had no doubt smelled blood in the water, and she’d be coming in soon. If she could just get up…

Angela reached up, grabbed the rope, only to look over in shock as the nearby referee suddenly jumped out of the way to reveal an incoming Hollywood Siren. She brought her arms down in defense, covering up her chest, but that only dulled so much of the impact - she was still sent flying over the apron, launched with such force that she hit the bottom half of the apron before she slid to the floor for a nasty. Not only knocking the wind out of her, but dealing some real damage to her back.

[HotWheels]

Her steps thundered (and didn't feel great) as Siren carried her weight across the ring again. Bee had always been the runner, the agile athlete between the two of them, but she looked natural enough during the short sprint, the dip, and the slide. Her feet again buried themselves against Angela's sturdy frame, and again that sturdy frame gave way to the impact of a hundred and eighty pounds of flying Latina. The collision shoved Angela entirely off the mats and to the floor below, and it was enough to stop the Hollywood hottie before she did the same, ending up with nothing more than a face full of ropes. After swinging her shoulders beneath the bottom rope, she was left seated on the apron, her legs dangling.

It felt fuckin' excellent. She did glance down at Angela, because for all her desire to prove, she didn't want to see her come up with a cracked bone. Time in the performance center made an unnecessary injury (at least, to someone she didn't outright hate) seem a crime, and she had too much respect for Dizzy to want to leave her mama in a cast for the next few months. Angela looked intact, though, and because she did, it was mighty fine to see her not only down, but all the way down beneath Siren's feet. Probably took a forklift to injure a woman with that body, anyway. Hell, Siren couldn't be sure she wouldn't just pop up like nothing had hurt her.

Much more of that, however, and the Siren wouldn't have anything in the tank; hers were a lot of curves to haul around the ring that many times. With her chest heavy, Siren gave herself, eh, four spare seconds to catch her breath. She didn't waste it, either. Crossing her legs and propping on her hands to pose like a pin-up girl, her eyes poured with hungry intent over the fans directly before her, earning their whistles and cheers, and she only stopped her gazing when she spotted Dizzy a couple dozen feet to her right. She popped both eyebrows at the veteran's daughter before turning back to the rest of the crowd, throwing her hands wide to urge them on, and then hopping down to attend to Mama.

Mama looked pooped. Siren walked up beside her, her plan already in mind. She reached to get a light tug on her hair, not planning to leave her bald, either, and hoped to get her into a seated position. "Sorry, mama. Gotta keep up." Knowing that lifting a woman so heavy as the Italian veteran wouldn't go well until she recharged a couple batteries, Siren just tried to deliver a thigh-centered blow to the side of Angela's neck to send her nearer to the barricade. Couple pokes to keep her down. Then she could try getting crazy again.