Marcella Crowe vs. Armando 'Army' Rodriguez - Design In Malice

[BlackAkuma]

Note to self - executing suplexes out of the ring wasn’t the best idea. It required Army to fall backwards, and unlike the ring, there was no canvas to absorb some of the impact when he did, just a hard, stone floor. Army winced as the impact went through his entire spine and radiated from there, sending a wave of pain through his bone.

Yeah, that would suck in the morning. Not as much as it did for Marcella, though, he’d guess. Not if that sickening splat he’d just heard was any indication.

Grimacing, Army rolled over to his stomach and looked through the quickly dispersing crowd, giving them ample room. At first he thought she might’ve been out, and the referee started a count, but she began to rise soon enough. She was going to get up, for sure.

”Tough bitch, fuck.” Army grumbled under his breath as he pushed his way, leaned back to crack his spine, then soldiered forward. He made his way to the downed woman soon enough, reached down, and grabbed two handful of her thick, black mane, gripping them tight. ”Let me help you up, come on.”

Army yanked hard, pulling her up by her strands. As soon as she was back on her feet, he let go with one hand and began tugging her towards the concession stands. ”Let’s take a walk, you and me.”

[ADarlingDucky]

Over the past few moments, Marcella found that her expectations for Army had been far below what the muscled male was actually able to provide, as time and time again, he managed to thwart her efforts to crush him quick and easy. Much as she would have liked otherwise, the heavyweight goth woman would need to take him seriously, as being smacked with a chair had certainly managed to scramble her thoughts, leaving her angry and booting his chair away, while being all too open to retaliation. And so she currently found herself downed on the floor outside of the ring, having been dropped hard with a german suplex, and as she pushed her way back up to her feet, Army was already doing the same, rising far quicker. Quick enough to snatch two handfuls of Marcella's black locks, before hoisting her the rest of the way up, onto her feet!

"Nnngh! Easy on the hair..." The big goth grunted as she was forced up, but Army's grip had left her doubled over, attempting to reach and pry his hands off of her head before she could move away. When he began to walk, she was forced to follow, unable to get him off without removing a generous chunk of her hair in the process, something she was most certainly not willing to do.

"Uuugh... would you let go?!" Marcella groaned, trying to reach out to grab hold of Army's wrists, getting a grip on them, before attempting to pull him free. She wished to get his hands untangled with her hair as best that she could, though she would be forced to continue along with him as she fought to get free, twisting this way and that as they approached the concessions!

[BlackAkuma]

Before them, LAW’s security team was scrambling, trying to make the crowd was well and clear of the actual match. It was no easy task, either, as Army and Marcella were already on the move, making their way through a sea of screaming body, as the fans tried to get the best angle of what was going on, capturing the match from different angles on their phones, getting the best view of the goth’s backside in those stocking, stuff like that.

Army didn’t pay much of it any mind, instead focusing where to go next with his opponent. His attention came to the concession stand off to the side of the audience area, where the vendors were hurriedly trying to move their valuables as they entered the area. He could use a drink.

”Hey, Marce.” He liked the nickname for her. ”You hungry? You look hungry. Let me get you something, my treat.”

Army moved the struggle woman over to the popcorn vender, who had a fresh batch of the stuff in the…Army didn’t know what you called it. The thing in the popcorn machine where all the popcorn fell into after it was done popping. Once he was close enough, he opened the door with his free hand, pulled Marcella forward, and tried to ram her head into the machine, giving her a faceful of kernels, trying to get her as deep in there as he could.

Payback for the facesit. She’d probably like this better than him sitting on her face, anyway.

[ADarlingDucky]

The short walk over to the concession stand had afforded Marcella just enough time to kick herself for kicking the chair instead of Army, with the male wrestler seemingly the only one going un-kicked for the time being, likely to her detriment. She might have tried again had she not been doubled over thanks to Army's grip on her hair, keeping her doubled over as he pulled her along, having to move with him so that she didn't get her hair pulled out, something that would have only made her that much more annoyed. It left the crowd free to ogle her hefty ass as she was tugged along, but at the moment, that was something she couldn't worry about too much. Instead, she'd find a far more pressing issue when her and Army suddenly stopped moving, and her foe seemed to have something in mind giving the shit-eating tone he took as he asked if she was hungry.

"I'm gonna feed you my boot the second I- Gmmgghck!" Marcella was suddenly cut off by having her head yanked forwards and thrust unceremoniously into a bin full of popcorn, suddenly buried in nothing but heated corn kernals! Marcella immedaitely found herself with a mouthful of the snack as Army held her there, her hands shifting to grab hold of the machine and try to push herself out!

In another world, she might not have minded a quick snack break, but she currently had far too much to handle, and as the cherry on top, she was fairly sure that her face was getting covered in butter. Not exactly the greatest feeling in the world, though it beat the suplex.

"Nngh! Fcckff fff!" That wasn't entirely how she wanted to sound, but her actions would have to do the talking for her, as Marcella swung her arm back as hard as she could, throwing her elbow in Army's direction. Wherever it hit, that didn't really matter to her, as long as she could do enough damage with a solid strike to get him to let go, and allow her to free herself from her buttery prison!

[BlackAkuma]

No joke, Army was hungry.

He never ate before a match, but he’d thought this one would start a bit earlier than it did and he only learned different when it was too late, so he’d pretty much skipped lunch, and he was paying for it now. He wasn’t about to lose the match because of a rumbling stomach, but it was this niggling little thing that he wished he could deal with. But getting snacks during a match wasn’t exactly an option.

Usually. Not today.

As Army dunked Marcella’s face into the popcorn tank, he used his other hand to scoop up some and scarf it quick, using it for a quick pick-me-up. He was scrunching it down fast when she retaliated, whipping around and clocking him in the sid eof his head with an elbow.

It was enough to earn her freedom, as Army cried out and staggered back towards a hot dog cart, creating some space between them. He was too shaky to close the distance with anything, but that didn't mean he was out of options.

He threw a hotdog at her.

Then a bottle of ketchup.

Then a bottle of mustard.