Blue Imugi vs. Armando 'Army' Rodriguez - Thunder and Lightning

From a tactical standpoint, rolling Imugi back into the ring wasn’t the smartest thing he could’ve done - maybe not the dumbest thing he’d done all night, but definitely in the top five. He could’ve worked her over a bit more, thrown her into the barricade, then rolled back into the ring at the last second. Bam. Done. Easy. She would either get counted out, or barely make it into the ring, at which point he could pick her up and promptly throw her out of it again.

That would’ve been a win, and if this were just about anybody else, he might’ve gone for it. But after what Imugi had put him through, after all the crap the crowd had given him, there was no way he could let it go so easy. He wanted that pin. He needed that pin.

He was off to a good start on that front at least. Imugi was aching, and the only question that was nagging him as he rolled back in the ring was how he’d take advantage of it. Best to keep it simple for now, he figured.

As Imugi kicked about and wallowed in the pain, he reached down to grab her shoulder, careful to avoid her hair this time. With a good tug, he yanked her back to her feet, got her standing then sent her off to the races with a hard tug on her arm, Irish Whipping her hard into the nearest corner, making sure to throw his weight behind the move to get the most force out of it.

Imugi was going to come back from this. She’d been in worse places than this, with men who weren’t quite as gentlemanly as Mr. Rodriguez. It wouldn’t happen right away. Not quite yet. But it was going to happen. And when it did, she was going to make extra sure that he wasn’t ever going to get the chance to do any of that again.

Not that she didn’t appreciate being helped back into the ring. She may have even been able to start getting over the hair pulling thing, with a bit more time maybe. All in all, though, there were way worse opponents this place could have thrown at her if Patty’s interview was anything to go by. Glad of all the giants they could have surely sent her way, it was at least someone with a bit of respect.

Almost made her feel bad for wanting to stomp his face mush. Almost.

She winced as she picked him up, careful to not pull at her hair this time - smart man - and put her on a pair of slightly wobbly legs. The little Korean was of a mind to go for a preemptive strike. Maybe try and sneak away with a low blow, but Army seemed to be a bit smarter than to let her too close this time around.

He kept her at arm’s length, far enough for him to make a good, powerful tug on her arm an Irish Whip into the turnbuckle. The injured tailbone didn’t do wonders for her balance as she went stumbling face first into the corner. She got her arms up in a guard just before impact, but man was it obvious that Armando wasn’t holding back. She could barely even slow herself down and met the turnbuckle with so much force that it creaked and rattled long after she settled against it. She pushed away, trying to resist slumping against the ropes and turn herself back around in time.

Finally, finally, finally, it felt like Army was making some real progress with this match. After minutes and minutes of struggling to find his footing with Imugi, he was on the pure offense, and he couldn’t lie - it felt good. Better than beating a smaller woman around the ring should’ve felt, but if he needed any reminders of who he was dealing with, he only had to look down at her granite abs or see the definition her arms. He was dealing with a miniature powerhouse, here. Small, but damned dangerous. More and more, he was liking the idea of taking her down, fast and hard.

That was his thinking behind the Irish Whip. Keep her moving. Keep her in pain. Don’t give her a chance to fuck it all up, because she had this amazingly irritating way of doing that at the worst times.

He went running off in the opposite direction the moment he let her go and hit the turnbuckle with his back, almost at the same time that Imugi hit the other one with her chest. When she was stumbling back, he was running, dashing hard across the ring with all the speed he could muster into his bulky frame.

He was coming straight towards Imugi like a freight train, and when she turned around, she would see him ducking down, plowing forward, attempting to hit her with a spear, straight into the stomach, full power.

Time to take her to the mat.

Honestly, the Irish Whip wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be. She caught a couple on television before coming here, and it looked like it could be pretty intense if someone caught the corner the wrong way. But Imugi had a relatively light body despite the musculature. Less impact that way despite the momentum. Less shock to go through. So that was at least a plus.

The bigger problem was that she’d lost the momentum. She’d been kicking his ass pretty reliably up until this point, but it seemed like he’d gotten a feel for her movements now. Didn’t help that Armando was a tough customer by himself either. He wasn’t afraid to give more than one-hundred percent, even if she was half his size. The small stuff wasn’t gonna do it anymore. She needed to break out the big guns.

She hadn’t fully turned around yet when she stepped away from the turnbuckle, just taking a second to get a couple breaths in before making her move. From the corner of her eye, she caught Army making his move. Couldn’t figure what exactly, just that there was movement and it seemed like he was gaining speed. Coming right at her like a freight train across the canvas. She needed to get out of the way, but the only clear way was...up.

Imugi gripped the top ropes and leaped herself up to the middle turnbuckle. A second later, just when Army was close enough, she’d leapfrog once more into the air and hopefully in time to let him pass under her. As she fell, she’d kick her legs out in a coup de grâce right onto his head. Or back. Or shoulder. Wherever that big body ended up.

Hopefully not the neck, though. Didn’t need that on her conscience.

As Army came speeding towards Imugi, he made a mental note to look her name up when this was over, figure out who she really was and how she’d stayed off his radar for so long. She had a unique look, the crowd loved her, and to top it all off, she could fight like hell. People like that were hard to miss, in his experience. She had to have some other matches elsewhere, stuff he could watch. For purely professional reasons, of course.

That was just a flash of a thought, though, as he plowed forward, ducked low, aimed for Imugi’s iron abs, and wound up hitting...nothing. Shit.

Imugi did a ‘something’. It was hard for him to tell because of the way he was running, but as near as he could fathom, she’d leaped over him. That wasn’t necessarily a problem, though. He was ready for that, and got his hands up, ready to grip the ropes and avoid smacking headfirst into the pads.

What he was not ready for, however, was the kick to the back of his head. That nixed any thoughts he had of recovering, as she drilled his face into the turnbuckle and knocked the sense clean out of his, leaving him stunned and starry-eyed.

It was all Army could do to squirm about on the canvas and turned around, sitting in the corner with a dazed look about his face. His brain was taking a quick lunch break, and he could hope it returned in time.

That was a pretty close one. Not that Imugi wasn’t confident she couldn’t get away. That was kind of what she did best in these situations, somehow. She was starting to work with the pain a bit better too. Wasn’t the worst she felt, wasn’t fun either, but her second wind was coming back to her and thankfully it was plenty enough.

Imugi bounced right off his head in the same instant she piledrived it into the turnbuckle. She let out a quick breath of relief. Not that she would describe herself as scared, but narrowly avoiding a head-on collision with a two-hundred-pound tank got her heart racing like very few things could. Army was really taking her to the limit.

Time to return the favor.

She was lucky to have avoided the tackle. Even luckier to have landed the counter. No telling how much she was going to need for the follow-up, but she’d make it work. Imugi had a wealth of options available to her. She decided one quickly enough.

Imugi wasn’t waiting for him to get his head on straight again. She took off straight from the ground and dashed towards the opposite ropes. Bouncing off them, she ran straight back to the corner at full speed. Flipping forward, she shot both her legs out and brought them down hard on Amry’s noggin with a rolling wheel kick.

”Okay,” Army chuckled as he turned around and propped up against the turnbuckle. ”That was pretty cool.”

Army was smiling, a weird thing for him to be doing at the moment. He wasn’t the sort of guy who got off on a woman smacking him around from pillar to post - at least, not only. He was a Rodriguez, and Rodriguezes fought to win. Always.

But he couldn’t but be impressed by the fireball in front of him. The crazy spitfire who was coming back his way, faster and faster, right as his vision was clearing enough to tell which of the three Imugis would be clobbering him…

Ah, the middle one. Should’ve guessed.

Blue Imugi leaped at him, flipped forward, and by the time he could figure out why she was doing such a crazy move, her heel was coming down on top of his head. The blow seemed to travel through his body, sapping all the strength from his legs, and wound up flopping to the floor with a raging headache.

He got up soon after, but only so he could crawl forward on the canvas, nursing his skull while he tried to get back up on two feet.

Okay, this was fun. This was so much fun.

As much as Imugi would have liked to keep up her pissy attitude for the rest of this match, she honestly couldn’t deny just how much she had gotten into this fight since it started. The ring was so much more open than the pit, so much more free and clean. The color wasn’t bad either. If she had known any better, she’d try and buy it herself as soon as she made enough money.

Armando wasn’t half bad either. Definitely a step above any of the guys she’d been thrown into the hole with and almost immediately flattened. If she’d had to rank him against the lot she’d say...

Actually no, that wasn’t fair. For all the times he’d put her up against the wall, he’d earned more than being sold short. He was good. Really good. Already her mind was rushing ahead to think of the next time they could trade a few blows, even if it wasn’t in the ring. Coming to Tension was such a great idea.

Didn’t mean she was going to let this match slip away from her. She had her opponent on all fours, and there was no way she was letting this bull get away from her.

Imugi rolled back onto her front and popped up to two feet. Taking off after Army, she’d jump onto his back, using it as a springboard to send herself into the air. She brought her elbow out as she came speeding down like a meteorite, aiming a diving elbow drop to the back of Army’s head.

The wrestlers weren’t the only ones enjoying this. The crowd was getting more into things now, and not just on Imugi’s side. She still held the lion’s share of the crowd’s goodwill, but there was a small, but dedicated, force egging on the Puerto Rican Bomber, cheering him on, urging him back to his feet, even chanting in poorly pronounced versions of his name.

Army likely couldn’t appreciate it, what with his head being thoroughly rocked. Felina, however, could make out the small Rodriguez contingent, and it was a nice change. As much as she loved to heckle her concern - her favorite hobby, really - she didn’t hate him having support or anything.

Granted, that didn’t mean he was going to win. His prospects there were looking less than sunny.

At first, it looked like Imugi was going to stomp him on the back, a move that would’ve left him flattened and stunned. He was certainly wide open for it. But it seemed like the blue-haired vixen wasn’t the type to do anything simple - instead of just hammering him into the canvas, she used his back like a springboard, leaped high, and…

The elbow came down hard into Army’s back, spiking his face into the mat while the crowd winced away. Felina couldn’t tell if he was knocked clean out by the blow, but prospects didn’t look good. He wasn’t moving much, just staying there, flat and limp.

“Incoming!”

Despite the action that was accompanying that word, that was probably the most cheerful tone Imugi had spoken in throughout this entire match. It was hard to describe why, she just felt good. The energy in here was really picking up, if the crowd was anything to go by.

And things only got better. Even after her elbow smacked against the back of Army’s skull and she fell the ground with a couple tumbles to the side, she could still make out the collective gasp and a couple “oooh”s that popped up all around the arena. Some whistles made their way to the ring as the audience came back to full strength.

A nice coat of sweat was enveloping her, glistening under the stage lights as she went to stand up to one knee. Imugi honestly would have been fine with taking a second to catch her breath, but the crowd clearly had other ideas as to how she should use her momentum.

“IM-U-GI!” “IM-U-GI!” “IM-U-GI!”

Ah, the life of an idol. All work and no play.

Imugi grew a little smirk and stood back up to two feet, shooting a finger out to the crowd as she wiped some sweat from her eyebrows and walked over to the still Latino. Leaning down and, with a grunt and a couple seconds to herself, flipped him over onto his back. Leaning forward, she’d snake her arms under his left leg before rolling her back onto his chest, going for a pin now that he couldn’t kick up a fuss.