Miranda Blair vs. The Black Fang - More Than You Can Chew

Match Type: Standard
Victory Conditions: Pinfall, Submission, or KO


The Black Fang could’ve made a long, exhaustive list of all the people she expected to come out from behind those curtains. She would’ve loved to take on someone from Khaos Reign, maybe Orochi or a giantess like Vitra Savage. Jessica Wright? She would’ve loved to take on Jessica Wright. That craxy Alexia chick, an old-school villain like Frei Kagami, maybe even a surprise visit from one of the Tension bad girls…

She got none of that. Instead, she got...well…

The piano playing wasn’t a good sign. Nor was the fog, and the whole elaborate entrance made a few chills dance along her spine. The Black Fang found herself looking on as three figures emerged, none of whom she recognized, but all of whom seemed to have an unspoken disdain for her.

Which wasn’t a problem, by itself. Meeting new talent could be fun. But the Black Fang was getting a more serious vibe from these three than just about anyone she’d gone up against before. The one in blue was a tank of a woman, with at least several inches over her and ton of muscles on top. The short one in red was less impressive, didn’t look like too much at first glance, but the quick ones could be a pain in the ass, too. And the one in purple…

Something about the look in her eyes was off. Cold and calculating, serene and still. She didn’t walk like a person, but like some kind of machine that was trying to imitate one, and not doing the best job at it. The Black Fang didn’t like the cut of her jib, which of course meant that she was the one who had to come in.

The Black Fang looked like left and right, trailing after Miranda’s associates as the woman introduced herself. She’d never been in this sort of situation before, but it was hardly one that she couldn’t figure her way out of. The was good Wrestling 101. Don’t back down.

”The only lapse in logic was the one you had when you stepped into this ring with me, Miranda.” The Black Fang puffed out her chest. ”Also, that weird thing on your face is odd choice for wrestling apparel. And those high-heels.” She pointed at them with a curious eye. Never quite understood why some women choose to wrestle in those.

As the referee came out and made her way to the ring, the Black Fang thrust her fist high into the air. ”Get ready, Miranda. Your reign of terror is about to come to an abrupt end!”

Miranda watched The Black Fang take the appearance of her and her cohorts in stride. She didn’t show even a slight bit of fear on her face as the trio walked down the ramp, nor did she back down when Bridgette and Kristy began to circle the ring like sharks as Miranda herself entered from the other side. Surly, it must have taken quite a will to keep such a straight face as three unknown enemies arrived, no matter who they might be. Even if this was a one on one combat situation, there was little guarantee that the other two enemies would not interfere, nor accept their allies defeat if it came to that.

Miranda might have applauded such strength of character, if it wasn’t for her previous plans on what she was going to do to the protector of AFW. Her group needed to grow in influence, and Miranda planned on using Black Fang to do so. Normally, she would have delegated such a fight to Bridgette, her muscular brute, but if her group was to be taken seriously, if She was to be taken seriously, then she must prove herself worthy of respect. It was only logical, after all.

Soon, the referee would arrive, crawling through Miranda’s side.  The woman seemed distressed under Miranda’s cold, red gaze, but it was better than trying to pass the two delinquents on either side of the ring. She knew she had her work cut out for her, watching four people wasn’t easy even if she didn’t think that there would be cheating involved. Something told her that the woman in purple and the two outside the ring were not interested in a fair fight.

Miranda ignored the Black Fangs comments on her costume, but decided to speak up after her next comment, which sent the crowd into a frenzy of cheers and adulation for the brave and charming hero. Her mask distorting her voice slightly, adding to the machine comparison.

“No, it has not. It has only just begun, and you will be the first to fall before our regime.” The scarlet eye locked with Black Fang’s, it contained no hate, no pleasure, no light. “Ours will be so much more than a simple reign, dear Black Fang. It would be more accurate to describe it as a hailstorm of terror.”

Wow. And people said that the Black Fang was dedicated to her gimmick.

There was something...off about Miranda. It wasn’t just the costume, which, truth be told, the Black Fang kind of liked, high heels aside. Garish, ghoulish, with a cool color scheme going on. Purple, to match her red and blue cronies. Proper color coordination was something that too few AFW wrestlers looked it. Working with that mask on had to be crazy hot, though. She could respect the dedication, at least.

The Black Fang paced about as the referee came in under the ropes and got into position, staying light on her feet, itching to go. It had been a long time, too long, since she’d shown the AFW what she could do, and her main concern was getting a good match out of this newcomer.

Her main concern was what she’d be using to close this match out, thinking more on that and less on other matters. Like the cold, deep, creepy eyes that her opponent was giving her, and the mechanical way they were following the Black Fang around the ring…

The bell’s ring snapped her back to reality, and the Black Fang went into action right away. Deciding it was best to test this woman out before she committed to anything serious, she raised her hands and began to inch forward, subtly sliding forward with her boots, drawing closer and giving Miranda the unspoken challenge to meet her in a lockup.

The sharp clang of the bell signified the match had begun, though the match would start off slow as each fighter eyed each other, only one moving slowly to engage.

Miranda really didn’t know what to expect for this fight. She had no real idea who Black Fan was, what kind of fighting style she preferred, not even how fast or strong she was. in light of such a lack of information, Miranda had planned on letting The Black Fang make the first move, then countering it appropriately. She soon found the plan would not come to be, as the raven colored hero raised her arms in a challenge, inviting Miranda to meet her in what would likely be an informative lockup.

Miranda would watch as her opponent moved closer, inch by inch, step by step. Finally, deciding on the most logical way to proceed, Miranda strolled forward to meet the challenge. Her stance held no caution, her pace was leisurely, as if she was walking to work rather than facing an experienced opponent. Just before the two competitors collided, Miranda mimicked Black Fangs arm placement, seemingly accepting the challenge. Miranda’s left hand clasping Black fangs in a strong grip while her right…

Her right hand seemed to hover just out of reach of Black Fang’s grip. In it’s place, Miranda’s sent her knee to smash into the woman’s exposed ribs.

It was foolish to trust an enemy to concede to a fair challenge, especially one who had made their intentions clear as Miranda did. Perhaps her opponent did not realize that Miranda was serious about this whole thing. That would be a misconception Miranda would have to fix.

If she succeeded with her strike, she would twist The Black Fang’s arm into a wrist lock, just enough to be painful but nothing too forceful. Not yet. She needed to make an example out of Black Fang, after all, and doing so early would make it lose impact.

A little closer, a little closer…

The Black Fang’s eyebrow raised up from behind her mask, as her opponent assumed a rather unorthodox wrestling approach, walking with a casual gait that had absolutely no place in a wrestling ring. Was she not taking her seriously? Or did she take any of it seriously? Those stripper heels didn't build confidence, but the Black Fang was hoping she could still provide a real challenge.

Her worries eased, a smidgen, when Miranda locked up with one of her hands. Strong grip. There was some deceptive power in that arm, and she guessed the dark doctor had some serious muscle hidden under her getup. There was only one way to be sure, though, and she was about to find out-

”Guh!”

With surprising speed, Miranda lashed out and sunk her knee into the Black Fang’s stomach, knocking the wind clean out of her and stunning her for a moment, a moment she used to seize her arm with a tight wristlock. The Black Fang cried out as her limbs were stretched, but she forced some calm into her mind. She was far from finished.

”A good attempt...but…” She did a sudden somersault forward, kipped up to her feet, then spun about and tried to reverse the hold on Miranda, hoisting her by her own petard. ”...not good enough!”

She needed more information.

How could Miranda make a logical decision if she didn’t know what she was dealing with? Was this Black Fang more of an aerialist, or perhaps something closer to a striker? The scientist did not worry too much either way, confident her own abilities would see her through this match, so long as she fought with a clear head and a plan of action.

Still, the idea of an unknown element bothered her. The scientist that she was wanted to explore the unknown, even if it was as simple as an opponent fighting style. In a way, this fight was like a field experiment, testing the raven hero and seeing what would result from it.

So, there Miranda stood, holding her opponent in a wristlock and waiting to see how she would react, ignoring the scream that her foe emitted out of pain. The results were far from disappointing. The Black Fang somersaulted forward, unwrapping her arm before spinning around and wrapping Miranda’s arm in her own wrist lock.

“Gck!”

It was a logical move on Black Fang’s part. Her wrist lock seemed to be effective as well, pain running up Miranda’s arm as it lay trapped in her opponents grasp. Miranda’s only response was slight grunts of pain as she would try to adjust herself in a way that could get her closer to the hero, even at the expense of her arm.

As soon as Miranda could get close enough, she would initiate a counter taught in most self defense schools. Using her heels, she would attempt to stomp on The Black Fang’s foot, before following up with an elbow attack, looking to dislodge the wrist lock while she could.

So, what was Miranda’s deal? She didn’t strike the Black Fang as a power wrestler, not like the blue brute that was hanging around at ringside, but she didn’t seem all that agile, either. The Black Fang wasn’t the fastest wrestler on the roster, but she had no trouble getting a reversal on the not-so-good doctor, trapping her with a wristlock of her own.

Always a satisfying turnaround, and one that Miranda didn’t seem to have much of an answer for, as she struggled and pushed her way into the hold. ”What’s wrong?” The Black Fang chuckled and tossed her hair back, ensuring that Miranda would have a good view of the smile on her face. ”Having a little trouble moving about in the heels?”

As it turned out, ‘the heels’ didn’t hamper Miranda nearly as much as she’d hoped they would. They made her stomp all the more dangerous, the spike drove hard into her instep, and she shrieked from the pain. An elbow cracked her head in the face, and she promptly spun about on her heel, breaking the hold and exposing her back to Miranda.

But if this woman thought she had an opening, the Black Fang would have no qualms with proving her wrong.

While still facing away from Miranda, she decided to take a gamble. She dipped down, planted both of her hands on the floor, then lifted up her lower body and shot her legs out, aiming both heels at her opponent’s chest for a powerful mule kick.

“You got a good pair of lungs on you, Hero! Maybe you could sing us a song, once Miranda is done with you!” Kristy teased by the ringside, playfully wincing as the elbow cracked against the black attired enemy, “That is, if your still conscious!”

The monotone mistress herself continued her streak of silence, not even casting a glance at her red underling’s confident words. Her face did not seem to react to Black Fangs taunts, the eyes that made up the only visible facial features were like glass, the cold, almost inhumane gaze stared simply as her heel stabbed into the hero’s foot. The elbow succeeded in its task to free her from the wrist lock, as well as deliver another blow to her opponent.

The pain in her arm was something of a dull throb, but something that would likely subside within a short amount of time. For now, her opponent’s back was completely and utterly exposed. The logical next step would be to capitalize on Black Fangs opening, to initiate a devastating throw that would further weaken the hero so that Miranda could take her time with her.

So why did she hesitate?

It was a small, nagging feeling at the back of her head. Something telling her that her elbow shouldn’t have been that effective, that it should only have freed her from the hold, and not much more. Surly, Black Fang had taken hits worse than that at kept going. To have such a bold title as the leagues defender and protector, but then being unable to withstand a blow to the head was ludicrous.  

But the next logical step was clear…

With a bit more caution than before, Miranda approached The Black Fang, unsure if her hypothesis was correct or just a miscalculation of emotion.
Black Fang provided the answer when she quickly ducked down, just avoiding Miranda’s strong grasp, leaving it to clutch air as the donkey kick smashed into Miranda chest. Miranda was pushed back hard as a strange, cottony sound came from her breathing mask. Likely it was the air being pushed from her lungs that was making such an alien sound. Somehow, despite her footwear, she stayed upright and regained her balance. It took her a moment, but a slight mutter could be heard, slightly distorted by the gas mask.

“Alright then…”

With more speed than a woman wearing heels had any right to have, Miranda shot back at The Black Fang, closing the distance in the blink of an eye. Miranda intended on smashing into Black Fang, taking her down by slipping her leg behind the heroine and grasping her throat, looking to trip her up and smash her down to the floor.

Miranda’s chattering henchwomen didn’t escape the Black Fang’s notice. In fact, she doubted the redhead’s chattering wasn’t heard by everyone in the vicinity, producing a staggering amount of noise for one so tiny. Not a problem she could talk as long as she wanted and say whatever she liked, so long as she stayed out of the match.

A match that was currently not going that badly for her. The Black Fang’s mule kick had been a hasty move, but this was one of the cases where such a gamble paid off, connecting clean on her Miranda’s chest. The move had some real impact to it, and while Black Fang wasn’t in a position to turn and see the results of her work, she was certain it drop Miranda on her latex-clad butt.

She rolled off her shoulder after the kick, let the moment carry her into a roll, and kipped up to her feet…

...only for Miranda to send her right back to the floor.

It happened fast. Too fast. Impossibly fast. With startling alacrity, Miranda came from behind her and hurled her to the floor, taking her down with a hard choke. The henchwoman’s taunting seemed far more prescient now, as she felt power in that hand, mpre than enough to choke her out. She needed an escape.

Needing some distance, she kicked up her leg and tried to give Miranda hard shove, push her toward the ropes and create some separation. With that space made, she’d get to her feet as quick as she could, hopefully in time to create a decent defense.

“Nice strike, Miranda! I always knew our employer picked the right person for the job!” Kristy once again interjected, this time earning a glance from the scientist. The cold gaze didn’t seem to phase the smaller woman, at least not enough to stop her from talking nervously.

“Of course if you get tired, Bridgette and myself would be happy to-“

“Do be quiet, Kristy. I need-“

“Hey, watch her Miranda!”

At the sound of Bridgette’s shout, Miranda’s head whipped back towards her grounded foe just in time to receive a hard shove that cost her a few feet of ground before she could steady herself. The Black Fang was getting back up rather hastily, apparently her goal was to give herself time to recover from the sudden attack. Perhaps mount a counter attack. It was a logical choice, and if Miranda was in a similar situation, perhaps she would be taking a similar route.

But Miranda was in a far better position than The Black Fang was, and if this woman would be a problem in Miranda’s future plans as she promised she would be, than it would be a severe lack of logic to show her any mercy.

Blasting forth, just as fast as before, Miranda closing the distance once again. Her left arm was pulled back, ready to hammer The Black Fang with a strong Palm strike. If Miranda succeeded, she would attempt to drive her foe closer to the ropes, her lackeys circling just outside like crocodiles getting ready to feed.