Gemma Faraday "Air Raid Siren" vs Kira Malcolm "Wild Card"

Kira was livid. That this little runt thought she could STEAL the win in HER ring was... there were simply no words for it. She would not allow it. She would beat the everloving stuffing out of this annoying fruity little British prick just on principle now.

Pounding Gemma, hearing her shriek, it definitely soothed the savage Wild Card, pushing the fury aside so Kira could think enough to use her imagination. She stood up, yanking Gemma to her feet by her hair. Turning her around, Kira would move to grab Gemma from behind. "You've been wearing those stupid pilot goggles all match. I think it's time you flew, don't you?" With that growling taunt, the Wild Card would leap back, trying to slam Gemma into the mat with a suplex.

If Kira wasn't already doing such a thorough job of beating her ass already, Gemma could've kicked herself. The young brit's face reddened deeply in humiliation, having let herself get completely owned throughout this entire match. Gemma knew she had to find another opening, but right now the entire world was being drowned out by the pounding of Kira's fists across her body.

Gemma couldn't help but cry out again, as she helplessly followed the sharp yank of her platinum locks upward. Punch-drunk, staggered, Gemma blinked back tears. She couldn't take in what Kira was saying, at the moment, and had no response when the Wild Card disappeared behind her. In one stark moment, however, it dawned on her. "NO!" Gemma cried out, as she felt her opponent's toned arms clench down around her soft midsection, hoisting the poor girl's body helplessly through the air.

Gemma come down hard, on the mat, he head and shoulders colliding solidly with the canvas, the force making her body convulse pathetically. Arms wrapped defensively around her head, yet again, Gemma began pounding the tips of her boots against the canvas, trying to keep herself moving, trying to keep the pain shooting through her head from completely overwhelming her. Gemma tried to get a good rhythm going, something to focus on. All she new right now was that she needed to get her head back in this damned match, or this woman was going to slaughter her ...

With a half-mad cackle, Kira let out, "Oh yes!" before she took Gemma for a ride.

The landing was the best part, and Gemma looked like he had taken every bit of it. The Wild Card stood up. Adrenalin subsiding, she remembered the sharp pain in her torso from her last landing. She glanced up at the ring post, but decided against it. Grabbing a fist full of Gemma's locks, she would try to hoist the Air Raid Siren to her feet, only to toss her over her shoulder back to the mat in a sitting position. The Wild Card would then break into a run, away from Gemma, bouncing off the ropes, she came back, aiming a drop kick if Gemma was still sitting upright or a leaping stomp if Gemma had fallen prone.

Kira's cackling filled Gemma's ears, as the Wild Card worked her over. The suplex had sent debilitating pain through Gemma's entire body, leaving her lying helpless on the mat. In these moments, the back of her head screaming in absolute agony, Gemma could only think of the audience, in the arena and watching from home. She was being dominated here, tonight, clearly unprepared for the level of brutality that Kira was bringing into their match, tonight.

Gemma was roused from her shame, however, by the sharp sting of Kira's fist in her hair, using the steampunk siren's platinum strands to drag her off of the mat. Gemma was still too disoriented to fight back, as Kira flipped her, dropping her unceremoniously onto her bum. The collision impacted hard with her tailbone, drawing a quick squee of pain from the brit's throat. Through watery, half-closed eyes, Gemma watched as Kira ran the ropes, saw her coming back to continue her brutal assault.

In that moment, Gemma tried to shake the cobwebs out of her head. This kind of competition, this sort of unyielding brutality, was exactly the sort of thing she wanted to prove she could handle. Watching Kira come barreling back towards her, Gemma felt like she had something to prove. Using all the effort she could muster, Gemma rolled forward, and pressing her body flat against the mat. She knew the move was risky. Ideally, she'd throw off Kira's pacing by not being where she was expected to be, presenting an easy target. Worst case scenario, her opponent would trip over her, causing even more pain, but finally giving Gemma an equal footing to work from.

Kira was feeling good. She was where she should be: Trashing this irritating little Brit and showing the world that the Wild Card was a force to be reckoned with. That AFW could not just stick her in the ring with some nerd who did not realize Halloween was over.

Gemma even got tossed around pathetically. It was almost embarrassing to be caught in the same ring as her. She was going to have to beat her even harder for wasting her time here. She bounded off the ropes, enjoying the closest thing to a breeze one could get in the ring as she charged Gemma... only Gemma moved. Kira was not expecting that. She tried to right her movement... but it was too late. Her foot slammed into Gemma awkwardly and the Wild Card took a nasty tumble to the mat, slamming on her face, right near the ropes. The impact stunned her briefly. Gemma had a chance to capitalize.

Gemma winced as she felt Kira's boot trip over her ribs. Still, catching those feet upside the face was going to hurt worse, so she couldn't complain too much. Shoving herself up to her feet, Gemma took a quick breath. Her ribs stung, her head ached, and she wanted more than anything to curl up and recover. Still, looking at her opponent sprawled out on the mat, Gemma knew this was an opportunity that she couldn't pass up. She had the advantage, and who knew how long that would last?

Taking in a deep breath, Gemma pushed down the pain, and sprinted for the ropes closest to the prone Kira. Hopping over her foe, Gemma took hold of the top rope and pushed off the bottom rope with her boot, swinging her body upward. At the apex of her swing, Gemma tucked her feet in and came crashing down towards Kira's back, hoping to drive her knees directly into her opponent's spine. The spirited Brit knew she was running the risk of taking the mat directly to her knees if Kira were to move, but she hoped speed and sheer desperation would be enough to drive her strike home.

Fury drove the Wild Card. Her assault had been stymied by that idiot Gemma and the frustration at that ungraceful fall boiled over into white hot rage. She was the Wild Card! She skied off mountains, skated through abandoned oil pipelines, free ran through some of the most convoluted courses imaginable, and here she tripped over a damn cosplay geek and flopped like a moron? She was going to MURDER Gemma. With a hiss of rage, Kira pounded the mat with a fist to vent some steam as she tried to rise up... Only for white hot pain to shoot through her body. The wind knocked out of her, Kira managed only a pained "Kff!" as her back was slammed into the mat by Gemma's knees. She rolled over, clutching her back and thrashing against the mat in pain and disbelief.

A surge of relief and energy shot through Gemma's body as her knees made contact with Kira's back. This girl certainly meant business, and she was bringing a level of competition to Gemma that she generally wasn't prepared for. Of all the people she'd wrestled, both in the AFW and back home, nobody had seemed quite so hell-bent on totally annihilating Gemma as the wild card. Gemma took a second to catch her breath, watching Kira roll over, pounding the mat in pain. As gratifying as the sight was, however, the young Brit knew that if her foe got the chance to recover, she'd be in for it.

Quickly, Gemma slid over to Kira on her knees. As swiftly as she could, Gemma attempted to take hold of one of Kira's wrists in one hand, and an ankle in the other. If she could, the steampunker would then try to plant her knee into Kira's back, and stretch the girl in a bow and arrow hold. "Not so cocky now, are you, love?" Gemma said, a smirk playing across her face as she tried to take control of her opponent.

Before Kira could react, Gemma was upon her. "Agh!" She yelped and tried to fight back, but could not prevent Gemma from getting a hold of her limbs and bending her back in the painful hold. "Augh! Damndamndaaaamn!" She screamed in pain as she was bent back across her bruised back. Huffing in pain, she called back, "One move and you're already talking shit? FUCK!" She tried to flail back to strike at Gemma but at this angle and with this leverage, they would be lucky to hit and even luckier to do real damage to Gemma. "Agh... And that wasn't dated! Hot Topic is all geek shit now. That's... a recent change! You... ngh... fucking nerd bitch."

If unable to escape the hold through violence or through Gemma releasing her, Kira would eventually regain her mat sense and try to reach for the ropes.

Still struggling to catch her breath, Gemma couldn't resist the urge to take a quick jab at Kira, verbally. "You ... seem pretty ... familiar with ... Your Hot Topics, there ... Nerd!" She gasped the words, the entire time refusing to release her hold on Kira's limbs, Gemma leaned back, keeping her face out of reach of Kira's flailing limbs. Still, the young Brit assumed she wouldn't be able to just hold the position and wait for a submission. Kira was obviously far too tough for that.

Still catching her breath, Gemma tried to gather her strength and reapply her hold. Rocking backward on her spine, Gemma tried to rock Kira upward, allowing gravity to help her apply pressure against Kira's limbs and spine. What she didn't prepare for, however, was for Kira to begin reaching for the ropes. Grunting lightly with the effort, Gemma attempted to rock Kira back on the mat, but wouldn't do anything more than that to try preventing her fierce opponent from reaching the ropes. Some worry playing across Gemma face, all she could do was tighten the hold, and hope to come up with a plan, in the event that Kira broke free.