Eliza Harenwood vs Mateo Salinas - Viva La Passion

[Deus001]

Match Rules: Standard

Eliza Harenwood was sitting in her private locker room this evening, preparing for yet another match against a man. The dancing passion had earned quite the esteemed name for herself in law for being one who was more than willing to have a guy as her dance partner for her bouts, then again considering her ex was a renowned pro wrestler in his own right it should come as no surprise. Regardless the British aristocrat was stretching, flexing her right leg backwards as far as it could go and holding her foot with both hands. She had just about finished her routine and donned her entrance attire, a short yet regal maroon red satin dress which showed her iconic red stockings. The stage hand knocked on the door and told her it was time.......

The lights in the arena cut out, covering the place in blackness. Then suddenly a white spotlight shined on the entrance ramp, concealed by a black curtain which showed a dancing shadow as Baile De Batalla would blare from the speakers as Eliza emerged to a roaring applause. Her face donning a black masquerade masque and she held a pair of black feathered fans in her hands as she gracefully strode her way down the ramp. Clearly Eliza had become a darling of the audience!

Eliza proceeded to step up the ringside staircase and gestured for the ref to open the ropes for her, sliding in gracefully Eliza would bow to the crowd in the middle of the ring before performing a pose and letting the crowd cheer before she'd stand in her corner with a fan to conceal the lower half of her face as she waited.....

[Parker]

Mateo sat alone in the communal talent locker room, bent over his boots as he gave the laces one last tug. He smoothed his tights, adjusted the tape on his wrists, ran a hand back through his hair, little rituals he’d done a thousand times before. But tonight, they felt heavier. Different.

He’d been here before, under brighter lights, on stages twice this size. But never like this. Never as Mateo. For years he had carried his family’s name behind the golden mask, El Halcón de Oro, soaring through the air in the same tradition his father and grandfather had before him. Tonight, though, there was no mask. No feathers. No mystique. Just Mateo Salinas, bare, exposed, and for the first time in his career, fully himself… aside from the change in his legal name.

He let out a nervous chuckle as he studied his reflection in the mirror. “Esto lo has hecho cientos de veces. Multitudes, luces, presión… no es nada nuevo. Pero esta vez…” He shook his head, slapped his cheeks lightly, and exhaled. “Esta vez, me tienen a mí. Y con eso va a ser suficiente.”

The knock at the door signaled his cue. Mateo rolled his shoulders, breathed deep, and pushed through.

----------------

Do U Like It - Kinky

His music hit and the curtain parted, the roar of the crowd rolling over him like a wave.

stepped out with a humble smile, lifting a hand in greeting. No grand theatrics, pyro, or fancy flips, just a man. He walked the ramp slowly, making sure to meet every hand extended his way, slapping palms, brushing fingertips, nodding gratefully to the fans that reached for him.

Every gesture felt like a promise. A reminder that he belonged here, mask or no mask.

The last few steps were taken in long strides, leaping at the apron to glide smoothly beneath the bottom rope. Planting his palms, he hopped to his feet with an easy grace, giving his opponent the first good look since he spotted her from the stage. His brow quirked, eyeing her up and down. It was certainly a different look, and he wasn’t entirely sure they had come to the ring for the same match.

He kept his thoughts on that matter to himself as he took a few steps to the middle of the ring, trying not to gawk. He gave the woman a small nod of acknowledgment, and if she approached him, he’d offer a hand for a shake as well for a show of mutual respect. “Evening, guerrera. Lets have a clean contest, ¿Sale?”

[Deus001]

Eliza didn't have long to wait for her opponent to arrive, she observed him walking down the ramp. His general attire and walk reminded her of her match against Tomas. The dancing passion sized him up, near 6ft with a lean muscular build. This might prove trickier than most, his frame was different than your typical male wrestler on the British indies where they were as broad as they were tall which usually let Eliza dance circles around them. But rather than dismay her it merely intrigued her. When Mateo entered she was expecting some trash talking but instead he was offering a handshake?

Now that piqued her interest, was this an attempt at deception? Eliza strolled towards him, fan covering her lower face. But then she smiled and suddenly flung her fans up in the air and took Mateo's hand, not to shake it but to dance with him. Eliza would sway with him in a circle before spinning away from him back to her corner and catching her fans. "The pleasure's all mine. One moment." Eliza said elegantly as she placed her fans under her corner and then stood up.

She modified her entrance dress recently, she unfurled the front to show a zipper. Which came down, down more. To reveal her actual ring attire of a black leotard with red lace trim, her skirt meanwhile also followed suit to reveal her full ballet dancer ensemble. The crowd roared in approval as she entered her stance, legs crossed at the ankles and hands tucked near her navel. "I shall now be ready when you are, best of luck." Eliza said with a calm tone......

[Parker]

Mateo had expected a handshake. What he hadn’t expected was to be swept into a dance. His brows jumped up in surprise when Eliza’s fan fluttered away and her hand took his, not for the customary clasp of respect, but to pull him into her rhythm. For a heartbeat, he was a step behind, caught off guard by the sudden sway. But then his instincts kicked in.

Rather than resist, Mateo rolled his shoulders and leaned into the flow, pivoting with her as they circled. His steps weren’t elegant, not the way hers were, but it was spirited. As she twirled away, he brought his boot heel to the canvas and clapped his hands off to the side as she caught her fan just like if they had been tango partners.

“If you insist.” Mateo stood there with a smirk creeping at the corner of his lips. She had style, no doubt about that, and he was already certain this would be nothing like the matches he’d fought in smoke-filled halls or crowded lucha arenas. If nothing else, this would be an interesting affair.

He gave a small shake of his head, chuckling to himself as he backed to his corner. His sleeveless jacket came off in a single shrug of his shoulders, folded aside neatly. By the time he turned back, Eliza had revealed her ring attire to the roar of the crowd. Mateo’s eyes flicked once to the reaction she drew, then settled squarely back on her, feeling a little less uncomfortable knowing she had appropriate gear to wrestle in. "Ready."

The bell rang.

Mateo’s stance shifted, his posture loosening into something more fluid. He started forward at an easy pace, hands slightly raised in front of him, fingers flexed, not reaching but ready. He bounced lightly on the balls of his feet, testing the canvas, showing nimbleness that belied his size. Every muscle in his frame was coiled, ready to match the tempo of this strange, elegant partner across from him.

“Alright,” he murmured, mostly to himself, his smile still lingering. “Let’s see what kind of dance this is.”

[Deus001]

Eliza was rarely that extravagant towards her opponents pre match, at best she'd do a little spin in the ring and flourish but often simply wished her opponents good luck for the bout. However something about Mateo told her to do it. It wasn't that she was into him, the dancing passion was ironically chaste to the nth degree but rather he seemed the type to indulge a little art as it were. But now Eliza was prepared, her entrance attire removed and the battle was upon her now. She settled into her stance.

The bell rang alright. And on instinct Eliza's body moved. Honed from years of dancing practice made her body fluid like water. The dancing passion swiftly burst into a series of pirouette spins balancing elegantly on her right leg as she spun and built momentum before bursting out the corner with a leap and then into a reverse spin on her left leg and then launching forth to try and nail Mateo with a flying right leg kick. Eliza was famed for her movement being elegant yet confusing and often went with an offensive approach out the gate and it was time to see if Mateo could keep pace!

[Parker]

Mateo surged forward at the bell, his posture sharp and ready, but the moment Eliza began to move he slowed. Her spins weren’t frantic feints… no, they were deliberate, practiced, flowing like something out of a stage performance. For an instant he almost forgot he was supposed to fight her, caught up in the rhythm of her movements.

Then she exploded forward. A leap, a blur of motion, and that right leg whipped through the air with the kind of precision that could drop a man twice his size.
Mateo dropped low in a split-second decision, lunging aside as her heel sliced the space where his head had been. The whoosh of air grazed his ear, tossing his hair, his chest tightening at the thought of how close he’d just come to disaster.

He popped back up a few paces away, bouncing on his toes, the grin tugging at his lips betraying just how alive he felt in that moment.
“Dios… that’s some kick you’ve got. Could’ve taken my head off.” He gave a short, appreciative laugh, tilting his head as if still marveling at her balance.

Circling wide, keeping his guard high but his steps springy, Mateo’s grin grew a touch lopsided. “Guess I’ll have to step a little livelier to keep up with you. ” He offered a playful wink before refocusing, shoulders rising and falling with the steady rhythm of his breath, ready to see what her next step in this strange, elegant performance would be.

[Deus001]

Many a man in LAW would often be taken aback by the dancing passion's opening displays of acrobatics and grace, she often burst out the gate with her agility and let it speak for themselves. However Mateo? He managed to do the rare thing among all the guys Eliza battled, he was able to dodge Eliza's opening salvo there. Eliza for her part kept her stance afterwards, hopping backwards to get more into the middle of the ring and the British aristocrat would raise an eyebrow and simply say "Hmmm impressive...." nothing more was needed.

Still Eliza wouldn't relent, she pivoted on her right leg and let her left leg raise up backwards behind her head. Before then leaping forward on her left leg and using the extra momentum to close the gap, if a bold leaping blow wouldn't get the bout moving then Eliza would instead deliver a series of alternating right and left strikes with her legs aimed at Mateo's legs and midriff, it was time to see if he could handle Eliza's swift yet low temperature assault.

[Parker]

Mateo kept light on his feet, shoulders loose, his weight shifting as Eliza came forward again. The first strike he saw coming, snapping his leg up to check the blow, shin cracking against shin with a sharp smack. But Eliza was already flowing into the next, her movements a seamless blend of grace and cruelty.

The second kick snapped into the meat of his thigh, the sharp sting blooming instantly as his leg buckled half a step. The third whipped into his ribs with a thud, air rushing from his lungs as he clenched his teeth, body twisting with the force. She was swift wndher kicks had bite.

“Tch, fast.” His words hissed through clenched teeth, his grin crooked even as his side flared with pain.

When the next kick scythed toward his midsection, Mateo pivoted sharply. Instead of absorbing it, his hands shot out like a trap, palms snapping around her shin and ankle with a practiced grip. His body lurched from the impact but his arms locked tight, holding her in place.

With a grunt, he yanked upward, wrenching her leg higher and higher to see if he could cause her poise to waiver.“Got you now.”

Then he dropped. Mateo spun his entire body to the side as he fell, dragging Eliza’s leg through the air in a savage arc. Her body twisted with it, the torque ripping through her knee and hip to trying sending her crashing down onto the canvas with a sharp whiplash from a dragon screw.

Mateo rolled smoothly with the motion, coming up on one knee, chest heaving, the sting of her recent blows still buzzing in his thigh and ribs. He would her leg go only once the full torque had wrung out, leaving her sprawled on the mat if it had worked.

[Deus001]

Eliza's bread and butter in the ring was strikes, from peppering her opponent with blows or seeking to conclude a bout with a well placed blow to decide how the bout would be settled. Rarely did she fight a male who could handle themselves in this department like she could and Eliza was expecting it to be a similar case, she felt the blows connect. The sound of flesh smacking into flesh that made her know she found her mark.

But Mateo managed to grab her leg and she gave a surprised grunt, if he was expecting Eliza to flail about then he'd be mistaken. Eliza had been dancing since she was little and could dance on the head of a pin if need be, in fact she was already priming to retaliate against Mateo, only to then be taken for a trip mere seconds before she loaded up her unheld leg to strike him in the head.

The dragon screw found its mark and Eliza would crash and burn on the mat, Eliza let out a loud hiss as she tumbled and felt the pain shoot into her leg. Still the match had just begun and even at this point Eliza would roll further away from Mateo during it and tried to at least get on her knees to face him.

[Parker]

Mateo pushed himself up off one knee with a grunt, his side and thigh still burning from the sting of Eliza’s kicks. Every movement sent a dull ache radiating through him, a reminder that even the cleanest counter didn’t come free. He rolled his shoulders, forcing the tension out of them, his breath steadying as his eyes tracked her.

Eliza was already on her knees, and even in that position, there was something about the way she moved that unsettled him. Most strikers, he had a read on, their rhythm, their tells. But her? She was different. The way she carried herself, the fluidity in her balance, it was like trying to catch smoke. Or worse, like fighting underwater, every adjustment dragging him into a strange rhythm that wasn’t his.

For a moment, he felt the pull to hang back, to take stock. But that was a trap he couldn’t afford. Her reach, her speed, if he gave her space, and she’d carve him up with those legs until there was nothing left.

So he pressed forward. Cautious, measured, but insistent. Hands up making it seem he was coming to grapple her while she was vulnerable. He had other plans however. As long as she had balance, he was going to watch for those kicks, but he didn't intend to give her a large target. Rather than lunge toward her, he leans back, short hopping forward. His legs snapped out from under him, heels together, aimed low as he closed the unsafe distance between them as a projectile with a low angled drop kick aimed for her chest.