PhDoom vs. Big Barda - Comic Book Women

Huh. Good dodge.

Doom was surprisingly light on her feet, easily able to dodge the incoming trash can. The sort of move that few would have been able to do and even fewer still would be able to do effectively. Barda was hardly an expert, but she got the feeling that there was some legit skill underneath Doom's weird exterior. If they had been similar in size, this fight would probably be going in a less than unpleasant way.

Speaking of which...

Doom rushed toward Barda and took her off guard with a furious flurry, throwing punch after punch and kick and kick. She was driven back into the corner and stayed there, as her massive arms tried to cover up - but there were just too many spots to hit.

Eager to get out, Barda pushed forward and just ran straight into Doom, trying to wade through the blows and push her to the corner, where some real magic could start.

It felt damned good, to Doom, to get to unload on the corner-bound Barda. Kick after kick, blow after blow, Doom relished the chance to feel her limbs impacting against the muscular figure of the cosplayer. Doom listened to the jeers of the crowd, as she exploited her opponent's position, taking in every ounce of their hatred as she completely lost herself in her attempt to overwhelm her foe, right there in the corner.

All of this making it completely unexpected, at least to Doom, when Barda managed to fight back. When Barda rushed forward, pushing against the tide of Doom's limbs, she caught the brawler completely unawares. As Barda's body pressed forward, Doom fell backward. Initially, she simply lost her footing, tumbling end-over-end as Barda reversed the momentum of the match.

Hitting her back, Doom fell on her training once again, trying to roll through across her shoulders, get her feet back beneath her. Despite her best efforts to put her boots firmly against the mat, however, Doom had no leverage to stop Barda, and as much as it would gall the educated brawler to admit it, she was quite likely to end up in whatever part of the ring Barda wanted her to, following Barda's run.

Doom was a good fistfighter, even Barda could tell that. But, at the end of the day, when 200+ pounds of angry Canadian comic book geek wants to get out of a corner, you can either get out of the way or get bowled over. Doom seemed to be going for the latter.

She had to take a few shots in her ribs and face to do it, but Barda managed to bulldoze out of the corner and send Doom tumbling away, driven back as she moved forward like a juggernaut...or the Juggernaut. Doom was quick and surprisingly agile, managing to roll up to her shaky feet, but that wouldn't matter, not this time. Barda was coming, and coming fast

Fast for her, anyway.

Barda brought her boot up and shot it towards Doom's face as she ran wanting to put her back flat on the mat and get some payback for the beating she just took, all in one, swift blow.

Rolling back to her feet, Doom immediately tried to steady her footwork. The larger Barda's bursting from the corner was unexpected, but Doom resolved she could salvage this. All seeming setbacks only served as platforms for the next glorious resurgence of Doom! Shooting the cosplayer a look of pure hatred, Doom tried to steady on her feet, and get back on the offensive, mentally picking and choosing which shots to deliver first, to best break down the larger girl.

Unfortunately, before any of that was going to happen, Doom's field of vision completely filled with Barda's boot. Taking the blow head-on sent Doom falling backwards, yet again. This time, however, the brawler landed flat on her back, staring up at the arena lights. Instinctively, Doom raised her arms protectively over her aching face, and braced her feet against the mat. Barda had come out of the corner swinging, with force Doom hadn't anticipated. Doom filed this information away (“turns out, the large nerd is still actually quite large”) for future reference. For the moment, however, Doom would wait out her opponent's next move. Which was totally a decision based on strategy, and not on the fact that Doom's entire head was throbbing, at the moment. Indeed.

It was funny - Barda couldn't explain how or why, but somehow, someway, she just knew Doom was referring to herself in the first-person inside her head. It just seemed to make sense.

The Big Boot connected with a mighty crack, and brought Doom down with resounding force, laying her out on the canvas. She gave a mental thank-you to Adrian for giving her the idea to use the move in the first place. It was really quite amazing what something like a simple kick could do with her height. She had been skeptical, yes, but the proof was right before her.

Doom raised her arms, probably expecting...actually, Barda had no idea what she was expecting to protect herself with that. Whatever it was for, though, she doubted her hands could stop a 200 plus pound giant from dropping down, butt first, right on her stomach.

Which is exactly what Barda, landing hard and going for the pin.

Gathering herself on the mat, Doom slowly rotated her jaw to try and massage out some of the pain that had just been inflicted on her face. Trying to build herself up, a bit, Doom kept her feet firm on the mat and her guard up. She was anticipating a ground-and-pound style offensive, which was exactly what Doom would have attempted, if their places were reversed. What came next, however, was entirely different.

Barda's thick frame coming down on Doom's toned midsection caught the brawler completely off her guard, forcing a great deal of air out of Doom's body. Really, Doom told herself, this was AFW, she was wrestling in; she should have been expecting something ass-based. Groaning with pain and frustration, Doom heard the ref count “One!” Reacting on instinct, Doom raised her arms above her head, rolling her head back as she pressed hard against the mat with her hands and feet. It would take a great deal of effort from the prone punk, but Doom gave everything she had, to try and unseat her dominant opponent.

This was the second time Barda had caught an opponent off guard by simply falling down on them. It was turning out to be a devilishly simple but incredibly effective tactic.

She was a little ashamed to admit, but the surprised and pained look on Doom's face was a lovely sight to behold, especially after all the trash she'd thrown Barda's way, both figuratively and literally. Finally, finally, she was shutting up, and Barda was treasuring the silence.

The crowd seemed to share her sentiment as the referee started up the count, getting all the way to "2...!" Before Doom gathered her senses and pushed out of it. She was still in fighting shape - Barda couldn't deny the bitter brawling Marvelite was a tough one. But she could break, just like anyone else. It would only take longer.

Standing up, Barda pulled Doom along with her and ducked down as she rose, trying to put her in a fireman's carry and hoist the loudmouth up on her massive shoulders.

Shaking her head as Barda grabbed hold of Doom's hair, the rough-edged punk was trying hard to keep herself focused. Before Doom was able to fully get her bearings, she was hoisted up onto Barda's shoulders. Recognizing the fireman's carry immediately, Doom began trying to center herself. If she wasn't careful, Doom realized, Barda could very easily turn this into some kind of wrestling match, or something …

Doom could hear the audience cheering, as Barda set up some kind of dominant power move. The sound of their hope and anticipation helped to bring Doom back around, reinvigorated her desire to crush not just Barda's hopes for this match, but those of the masses of pathetic pervs watching from the wings.

Snapping to attention, Doom began to try wriggling herself loose of Barda's grip, her every muscle devoted to trying to buck off of Barda's shoulders. At the same time, the educated brawler tightened her hand closest to Barda's neck into a fist. Repeatedly, mercilessly, Doom would attempt to drive her elbow into Barda's neck, trying to soften the cosplayer up enough to drop free of her hold.

Barda could get a good feel for Doom's frame while she was up on her shoulder - she was a solid woman, well but, wrought with muscle. It made Barda wonder where she had been trained. At first, she had just assumed it was all brute street fighting with little finesses, but she was starting to detect hints of something more refined.

It was an interesting question, to be sure, but meaningless at the moment. For now, she simply needed to focus on breaking Doom in two and ending the match in a definitive way. As it turned out, Doom had different plans.

She started to struggle, bucking around, wild and wired. Barda was able to keep her up, but just barely, and it was getting exponentially more difficult by the second. Getting elbowed in the neck didn't help, either. Barda gagged with each blow, and she could only shrug to block the hits.

She had to let Barda go. But she didn't have to do it gently.

Rearing back, she took a few steps to the side of the run let Doom go... Right ousitdde the ring, over the top rope.

More and more, Doom could feel her body rocking with every forceful shrug of Barda's powerful shoulders. Still, the did not remit, would not relent. With precision and not a small amount of rage, Doom would drive her elbow hard at the larger woman's shoulders, again and again. There was no doubt in Doom's mind that this was a powerfully built woman, and so she drove as much of her hate and power into each shot she could afford.

As Doom felt Barda's center of gravity shift beneath her, however, she knew something was afoot. Instead of falling straight down, or releasing Doom clumsily, Barda was falling back to the edge of the ring.

If Doom was pressed, she would have to admit that the move was a smart one. Instead of simply dropping Doom in the face of her relentless assault, Barda had found a way to try optimizing both the distance she could gain, and the pain she would inflict. Begrudgingly, Doom had to admit to herself that this was admirable strategy.

Doom's toned body seemed to have earned itself a fair amount of leverage from Barda's muscular shoulders, thankfully, and the young brawler tried to capitalize on this. Rolling off of Barda's back the moment that the larger woman tried to release her, Doom tried to shift her weight forward. Doom was still going to take some pain from that fall, but she didn't plan on taking that pain alone. Reaching forward with her arms, Doom tried to wrap her lean, muscular biceps around Barda's neck and drag her head down, hard, against the ring ropes.

Doom was far from certain that such a move would work, but as she came falling down hard towards the outside apron, she gave her all to the attempt. Barda had earned Doom's full ire here, tonight, and with that came Doom's full commitment to inflicting pain.