Phoebe Porter vs. Alena Saint (complete)

Standard Match
Victory Condition - One three-count pinfall, submission, or KO.

Phoebe Porter calmly walked down the ramp, ignoring the audience, focusing only on the ring. Despite Elena's protestations, Phoebe signed on to the AFW alongside the mistress. She was an enigma to the audience and to the AFW officials. All they knew was that she could fight, she didn't like to talk, and she came with the star power of boosting the AFW roster with another domme.

Phoebe quickly slid into the ring and stretched her arms up, clasping her hands together, and leaning from side to side slowly... a yoga stretch. After she completed it, she looked back over her shoulder to see who her first opponent was going to be.

Soon after Alena Saint's cheery pop music came upon the loud speakers, and the cheerful fighter came out from the entrance. Grinning, the purple-haired cutie made her way to the ring, waving to the cheering and excited crowd. Despite her painful and humiliating loss in her last match Alena was back and ready for more. She had only just begun her career in AFW and knew she would lose a few matches. She just hoped this match didn't go like her last.

Alena hopped into the ring and started her warmup stretches in its centre, all the while looking at her opponant. "Hi!" she said cheerfully. "My name's Alena. What's yours?"

Phoebe turned to face her opponent finally, eying her with a sort of detached curiosity. She folded her arms, apparently trying hard to figure out what to make of her foe.

"Phoebe." She whispered tersely, not with any menace. She watched the girl stretch and examined the way she carried herself, "I don't think you can beat me." She added without much emotion.

Alena's opponant Phoebe was very pretty, in almost sinister way. At her words, Alena tilted her head in confusion. "I don't know about that," she muttered. "I guess we won't know until I try!" She smiled brightly. "May the best woman win!" She would move back a bit, waiting for the bell to ring.

Phoebe shrugged her shoulders, "If you insist." Phoebe would stand still, her eyes following Alena with a cold disinterest rather than true hostility until the bell rang. When it did, she would immediately bolt forward, aiming to drive her elbow into Alena's gut. If it struck true and Alena doubled over as result, she would immediately try to follow up by smacking her other elbow into Alena's back with the aim of knocking her to the floor.

When Alena heard the bell ring, she thought she would be ready for Phoebe. But before she knew it, the woman was already infront of her, and the elbow drove deep into her unprotected stomach. "OOFF!!" Alena gasped, doubling over from the pain, recieving the second elbow to her back because of it. Alena cried out and hit the mat, too stunned to mount any kind of counter attack. F-Fast, Alena thought worriedly.

Phoebe turned slowly to face her downed foe, somewhat curious as to what sort of prowess this girl had. She couldn't have been ALL sugar and cuteness.

Phoebe did not follow up. Alena didn't seem to cut out for brutality. Pain for pleasure was Elena's schtick. Not Phoebe's... still... there's no sense not having a little fun. That's why the crowd is here, after all.

Leaning down, Phoebe offered her hand to Alena ostensibly to help her up.

Alena was just about to mount a counter offensive when Phoebe offered her a hand up. She blinked in surprise. She wanted to help her? But why? Is it because she felt bad for hitting her.

Alena shook such thoughts away. Smiling she took Phoebe's offered hand, letting her be helped up. "Thanks," she said. "But you don't need to go easy on me."

Phoebe arched an eyebrow, "I'm not." Within a flash, she would jerk hard on Alena's arm, aiming to collide Alena's face with her knee.

Alena had time to blink in confusion at Phoebe's response, before her face was driven hard into her knee. Alena cried out in agony, falling back to the mat clutching her nose, which now began to leak a fine trail of blood.