Blood in the Water: Syd w/ Allie Parker vs. Gemma Faraday

The jeers and booing of the audience were just beginning to die down, as Kira Malcolm's theme played her out of the arena. Alone, Gemma Faraday struggled to push herself up off the mat. Torso weakly propped up by unsteady arms, half-conscious, the thoroughly beaten young Brit winced in pain, her back and skull still aching from her latest losing effort. Gemma couldn't help but wonder how many of her fans wouldn't be continuing to support her, after tonight. It wasn't enough that her last opponent, Kira Malcolm had beaten her so dominantly. At no point in her life, win or lose, had Gemma ever actually been knocked out in the ring, before. And she was keenly aware, after that shabby display, that she was running the risk of getting slapped with the dreaded “jobber” label, and where was her career supposed to go from there? The worst of it all, however, was when Kira had gone on to abuse, bully and humiliate her even more, mocking and assaulting her, leaving her feeling shattered, flat on the mat. Gemma looked down at the center of the ring, at the broken remains of her signature goggles, and felt a lump rising in her throat, again.

Gemma had worn those goggles for years, now, since her earliest days in the ring, ever since she'd started wrestling under her admittedly daffy “steampunk pilot” gimmick. The gimmick she'd kept after she left home, partly to remind herself that wrestling was supposed to be fun, to be a little bit goofy. An attitude that Kira clearly didn't share, after spending the entire match berating and bullying the girl. Bullying which had culminated in the brutal woman's shattering Gemma's goggles right in front of her, while the battered Brit could only watch, helplessly. It was a silly thing, but Gemma couldn't help but keenly feel the loss of them, and the loss of the comfort and fun they'd brought her. She cringed, when she thought of her jubilant attitude, following her first AFW win.

Gemma tried to push herself the rest of the way off of the mat, but a quick spasm of pain in her back kept that from happening. The ref girl hovering over her, the fans ominously silent as they waited to see what would happen next, Gemma could only imagine how pathetic she must look, at the moment. Her face was wet with tears and sweat, her platinum-blond locks matted against her forehead, chest red and heaving as she struggled to get her pulse back under control. Gemma's worst insecurities were beginning to boil, on the back burners of her mind. Maybe they really had coddled her, back in her home fed. Maybe she really was just the “cute, funny chippy” that happened to be the trainer's daughter and was booked accordingly. Maybe the “real world” of an actual wrestling fed really was going to chew her up and spit her out …

The pain was beginning to subside, a bit, and Gemma groaned with effort, as she pushed herself the rest of the way off the mat. Getting up on unsteady legs, hoping that those repeated slams to the back of her head hadn't done major damage, Gemma's spirits were lifted a bit, when she heard some supportive clapping from fans glad to see her back on her feet. Or, she thought to herself, perhaps just fans eager to see this loser get her bum out of the ring, finally. Still trying to recover Gemma took a few steps forward, before having to prop herself up on the ring ropes, her full weight pushing against them as she tried to gather herself. At the very least, her night was over, and she could finally crawl home to curl up and die of shame, in the shower. Or sleep. Whichever came first.

"Ok, Syd."

Allie said as she adjusted her scarf to perfectly swaddle her neck. "We did good in Atlantic City but this is the home crowd. THIS is where you'll have to learn to shine like a diamond. So, before we kick things off, let's tease them a little bit. Wet their pallet, ya know?"

Allie winked at Syd and then stepped through to the arena. She carried a microphone in one hand and a bright smile on her face as she strode with long steps towards Gemma. The woman looked tragic. Allie almost felt bad for what Syd was about to do to the girl.

Allie skipped to the apron while Gemma was in the process of getting out of the ring. "Gemma ... was it?" Allie said, using a hard G to pronounce the girl's name. She smiled brightly and looked up at the white haired girl. Allie then held out her hand to help her off the apron. "Here. You took such a beating, maybe you just need a little help?"

Allie had no clue if Gemma would catch onto what was about to happen to her and she didn't really care. "Well, at least you can say that you did your best. I'm sure everyone here was just glad to see the effort!"

Allie nodded and raised her free hand. "Everyone come on!" She encouraged. "Gemma really did her best! Give her a round of applause!" Those that knew nothing of this red headed intruder did do as she commanded. Those that had seen the PPV followed suit after the rumble of clapping consumed the arena and a small bubble of applause washed over the ring.

Allie grinned wider as she stared at Gemma. "Well, I think everyone deserves to feel special." She said to the Brit. "I'll even give you a chance to redeem yourself. See, my name's Allie Parker. I'm new to town and my client has yet to wrestle here!"

Allie looked back at the ring entrance and then to Gemma again. "Why don't I give you a chance to redeem your loss here? You can be the first to fight my fresh faced rookie! If you're talented enough, then it won't be so bad, right?" Allie added a coy giggle on the end.

Gemma had been all set to duck out of the ring and quietly duck out of the arena for the night, when the newcomer appeared on the entrance ramp. At first, she thought the new girl was simply one of the next competitors, eager to get their match underway. Gemma bowed her head, and began to step between the middle and bottom ropes to clear the ring, let someone else have a chance at accomplishing what she'd so utterly failed to, tonight. When the girl addressed Gemma, however, it caught the young Brit completely off-guard.

Instinctively a bit defensive, after everything she'd already suffered through, tonight, Gemma ignored the offer of help. Bouncing off of the ring apron gently, she landed on her feet, next to the newcomer at ringside. Part of her regretted it immediately, feeling a twinge of pain in shoulders, at the impact. “It- It's Gemma, actually, soft 'g,' ...” she said, a bit dumbly, confusion evident in the Brit's voice as she corrected the other girl's pronunciation. Gemma with the soft 'g' had no clue who this girl was, why she was out here, and why she insisted on standing between her and the medic's office that she was a bit desperate to visit. She didn't have a clue where this was going, but something was making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Gemma tried to affect a casual posture, as she let the American say her piece. At first, Gemma couldn't help but feel a bit more at ease, initially, when the girl started praising her efforts. Still, something about this didn't sit right. The Brit couldn't decide if the praise was sarcastic, or if she was simply that self-conscious, right now. “That … that wasn't really my best effort …” she muttered, rubbing at the back of her neck, as the girl went on.

Gemma had to admit, however, this girl knew how to work a crowd. And, regardless of her intent, the wave of applause she'd started felt pretty damned good. What came next, however, was anything but. As the conversation shifted from praise to a challenge, Gemma could feel her heart sinking further and further. Gemma was clearly in no shape to compete, at the moment. Not physically, and certainly not emotionally. It'd be suicide to step in the ring again, right after the beating she took, wouldn't it? And she wasn't sure how to take the "feeling special" comments. More and more, Gemma was settling on this being sarcasm, that apparently the AFW had decided she hadn't endured enough humiliation, tonight. Still, one word the girl used kept ringing in Gemma's ears. “Redempion.” Gemma chewed her lip, nervously, as she mulled it over. She turned her gaze up the ramp, for a moment, then skimmed over the audience. They seemed to want her to take the offer; she wondered how many of them thought she could win, and how many simply wanted to see her get her bum handed to her, again.

Regardless, the little giggle that the newcomer had punctuated her sentence with, had burrowed right under Gemma's skin, and suddenly the idea of a fight seemed awfully tempting. The Brit squared her shoulders, tried to clear her head, and took an aggressive posture, trying to loom over the girl. “Cupcake,” she said, trying to stifle the hint of worry in her voice, “there's no need to worry about my 'talent.' My 'talent' and I are doing just fine, thanks. What I want to know, is why I should give your 'client' the time of day. If she's so eager to get out to the ring and show everyone what she can do, then why does she have some giggly little tart out here, to speak for her? Is she too busy trying to figure out how a she wound up represented by a walking bustline on legs? Or is she simply too nervous to come out here, and challenge me directly?” Gemma hoped that, somehow, going on the offensive a bit might give her a slight measure of control. Hopefully do something to silence the nagging voice in her head that told her she was walking straight into a trap.

"What?"

Allie's orange eyebrow twitched as the beaten Brit began to berate her. "Listen, Gemma." Allie said, using the hard g still. She stepped forward and slapped her hefty chest against Gemma's as she stared down the Brit. Her tone was decidedly less bubbly now.

"Let me put it this way: you can get in the ring and have a match with my client." Allie lowered the mic. "Or we can just skip the formalities and beat you up."

Gemma strongly suspected she felt a shift of momentum happening, like she'd just gained some measure of control. All of the fake niceties, all of the condescension which had gotten the Brit's blood boiling, seemed to be replaced with impotent rage. It seemed as if she managed to rattle the newcomer, which she thought could only bode well. Still, the Brit couldn't help but stumble backwards, a bit, as Allie's chest slapped against her own (Ow!, she thought, I'm rather busty, but what the hell has she got, in there?). Trying to resist being intimidated, however, Gemma simply pressed her own chest forward, flush against the other girl's, staring her down with a confident smirk.

“Oh, no, love,” she said, waving for the ref girl, still standing in the ring, “I've heard quite enough. I don't back down from challenges, and I'm not about to do so for whatever kind of girl lets her business decisions be made by some obnoxious little tartlet like you.” With the ref girl watching, Gemma motioned for her to go inform the time keeper that this match was definitely happening.

“One more thing, you,” Gemma said, turning to face her foe as she put her hands on the apron, “you'd better hope your client does put me down, tonight. Because if she doesn't, I'm going to wipe that cocky little look right off of your face.” Not waiting for a response, Gemma pushed herself up to sit on the ringside apron, swung her legs around and rolled beneath the bottom rope. She tried to hide a wince, as she stood up, the effort reigniting that pain in her battered shoulder blades that she was desperate to ignore. That pain, and the dull pounding in her head. And her strained, exhausted muscles. And that little voice in the back of her head, telling her she'd just gotten played, and that this was all a horrible mistake ...

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE FOLLOWING MATCH IS SCHEDULED FOR ONE FALL, TO BE WON BY PINFALL OR SUBMISSION. FIRST, ALREADY IN THE RING, FROM BLACKPOOL, ENGLAND, GEMMA FARADAY, 'THE AIR RAID SIREN!'”

As the ring announcer called the match, Gemma pumped a fist into the air, trying to rally the fans behind her as she got ready to throw herself into the thick of it, yet again. She took a moment to try and give her best look of defiance to the girl at ringside, before turning her attention up the ramp, waiting to see exactly what sort of situation she'd just gotten herself into.

Allie's cheeks flushed when Gemma pushed back and remained defiant. Her plan was working perfectly but she still couldn't tolerate the Brit's words. She had no intention of getting beat up by anyone!

"My name is Allie Parker." The red head said as she started to perk up. The realization of Gemma's idiocy was overcoming the insults she'd been dealt.

She waited for the ring announcer to call Gemma before she held up her hand and pointed it at the Brit. "The only thing you need to know about my girl is that her name's Syd."

Allie turned and looked at the entrance. "Get out here and show this idiot who the REAL tart is, Syd!" She commanded petulantly.

Syd had no intention of giving poor little Gemma Faraday a fair shot. As all eyes were on the stage, Syd was pulling off a black sweatshirt and climbing over the barricade behind the ring. She crept to the apron and quietly climbed through the ropes, picking up speed until she had a clear shot at the other white-haired girl. She charged at her from behind and lowered her shoulder as she dove into the small of Gemma's back in a cringe-inducing spear.

Gemma couldn't help but laugh in disbelief, as Allie continued berating her. Did this little slag ever shut up? "No worries, then, Aaallie," Gemma said, putting an obnoxiously sharp emphasis on the "a" sound, "just calm down, and wait your turn. I'll get around to your drubbing, soon enough ..." The Brit tried to keep an eye on the entrance ramp, even as she continued to trade barbs with the manager at ringside. She was beginning to grow more and more worried about what she'd just gotten herself into, and she reminded herself not to lose focus. Already hurting, every moment she watched the ramp, waiting for this Syd to show up was making her feel more and more vulnerable. Unfortunately, it turned out that for all of her attentiveness, Gemma was never going to see her opponent coming.

"Aaauuugghh!" Gemma screamed, as Syd's spear collided with her back and nearly folded the unsuspecting girl in half. Gemma dropped to the mat, face-first, with all the grace and dignity of a little platinum-blonde sack of potatoes. Trying to keep her wits about her, in spite of the debilitating pain, Gemma rolled away, and tried to prop herself up with on one arm. The other arm was instinctively, with futility, trying to nurse her aching spine. With a mixture of fear and agony playing out across her face, Gemma looked around the ring, bleary eyed, trying desperately to get a look at her assailant. Gemma could feel her heart sink, as the opening bell sounded and sealed her fate.

Allie remained stoic through Gemma's last attempts to get under her skim. Her smile remained but her teeth tightened in the smile. Gemma apparently wanted to taunt her executioner while she was holding the axe high above her.

When she finally heard the crowd gasp at the sight sliding into the ring, she knew she wouldn't have to hear Gemma's ugly accent try and taunt her anymore.

Allie giggled into the mic as she stalked around the ring while Syd began her destruction of Gemma. She made her way to the timekeepers booth and, after a cute forty face, snatched the hammer away and gave the bell a good whack to officially seal Gemma's fate.

"HEY!" Syd barked, as she stalked around her new opponent. Dressed in her short cropped gray top and loose purple tie, long black pants with a purple belt, matching arm warmers and combat boots, at least she was ready for a fight.

"You got a big MOUTH!" She lunged at Gemma and kicked her foot straight out in a running stomp at the girl's face as she turned to face Syd, her long white pony tail trailing behind her.