Progress Report (for CyanDimitrick)

"Yeah, I hear what you're saying." She rolled to the side and fell off apron, landing on her wobbling feet. "Really, I hear people complaining about Tension all the time, but I don't get it. Think just about everybody I've fought against was pretty straight up." She made her way her gym bag and started to rummage through, looking for the extra bottle she brought. Army's extra bottle, really, but he'd left, so screw him.

"Being overlooked's not all bad, though." She took a few gulps, nodding up at him, finishing off with a satisfied sigh. Ice cold. "Look at all the bullshit Clyde gets put through. You want that? Stick your neck out too far, might get chopped off.""

"If sticking your neck out gets you a title, call me King Giraffe," Drake remarks.

His head has turned to peer over his shoulder to Carmen, since she's taken things outside the ring. At first, he'd thought she might have been ditching. But nope. Water bottle. Water bottle is easily excused. Provided the ache in her midsection doesn't cause her to hork it back up. That'd be gross.

"You planning on skimming the surface, yourself? Going unnoticed?"

"Don't really have any aims on the world title, if that's what you mean." She sucked the water bottle the point it shriveled up, then tossed it in the garbage. "Might go after the 24/7, if it's ever not held by a bunch of midgets."

She crawled her way back into the ring and stood up, stretching for a moment before she bent down and started to move towards him, arms out, fingers curled, challenging him to a little tie-up. "That's not what I'm here for, though. Just trying to raise awareness for women's boxing, that's a big thing. Having fun, too. Don't need gold for either of those."

Drake cracks a grin at her when she re-enters the ring and specifies her intentions. "Raising awareness of women's boxing by wrestling, huh?," he asks. He pulls himself up to his full height and suddenly moves in to snap in that lockup with her, bringing his face bare centimeters from hers. Close enough that his warm breath whisks her lips. "Think you might need to face facts, Carmen. You're a wrestler now."

"Fully aware of that, thanks." She mirrored his own smirks as she brought her head down before they could have an extremely awkward moment, then pushed her forehead against his as she powered into him. "But I'm trying to show that we've got what it takes to compete against the guys, physically. Draw more attention to my sport - the better I do here, the more people look into me, the more they start looking into where I came from, the more attention it gets."

She dug her heels in and went shoulder to shoulder. "Besides, AFW is the only place that even allows mixed matches on the regular, that I know of."

As she shifts against him, Drake obliges, pressing forehead to forehead with her, and shoulder to shoulder. "You've been around long enough... that I'm sure people are startin' to notice..," he murmurs back to her, voice telltale of the increase in effort he begins putting forth. But he suddenly attempts to change things up by sidestepping and dipping his body, hoping to maneuver in behind her back and lock his arms around her stomach in a gutwrench bearhug. The pressure is kept below his maximum, though. Now with his lips just behind her ear, he adds, "If they haven't yet, then they've just not been payin' attention."

Drake was getting a little too intimate for her tastes, but Carmen figured he was just trying to get under skin and screw with her a bit. It was working but she wasn't going to let it work too well.

She struggled in the hold, fighting back a cry as he powered down. A submission, but at least this one didn't have her on the floor. She could get out of it, she just needed to be fast and smart about it, and that meant using her best tools. Her lurched forward, brought her arm out, then swinging around and trying to hit him in the side of the head with a sharp elbow."Don't see how. I'm hard to miss."

Drake's not bearing down too hard on her. At most, he figures he's just giving her some wrestling to work with. The more exposure and experience she gets with it, the better off she'll be. And when that elbow comes in, he promptly releases her and staggers to the side. "Ow!" A hand sets to his temple and he gives her a look. "I dunno. Might have to work on your image a little," he teases. A hint of a grin touches his lips again.

He comes towards her again, this time to grab for her shoulders and attempt to sling her back against the closest turnbuckle. But the movements are slowed down for the purposes of demonstrating opening and helping her improve her reaction times.

How exactly did they end up in a little impromptu wrestling session? Not that Carmen had a problem with it, it was just funny how things turned out. One second, they're having a fun little demo and Q&A, the next they're tossing each other around. The AFW was a weird place, sometimes. Hell, most of the time.

"Oh?" She went along with the toss and ran into the turnbuckle, turning around to her back and letting it absorb the impact. "What's wrong with my image? I think I'm pretty unique."

"It's an attitude thing. You're all closed off," Drake purports.

Seeing her bump into the turnbuckle, he takes off towards her at a quick jog. Sure, his body is aching from the splashes earlier, but this is fun. Nice, even. He hasn't gotten to wrestle anyone in a 'relaxed' way in a really long time. Not since the States. His approach concludes with a hop and him grabbing for the top ropes at either side, aiming to crash firm pecs into breasts in a body avalanche. Again, far from full force.