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

The Black Fang would give Miranda credit for setting this all up rather well, putting her in a situation where she was running out of options quickly. There was something to this woman’s planning skills, aside from her rather odd obsession with logic, and she had to have something about her if she could command someone like the big blue girl with such ease.

But the Black Fang wasn’t going to back down, not from women like these. The crowd surgued, rallying behind her as she made her way out and used her hand like a whip, slicing into Miranda’s chest and making a good deal of noise - partly because of the way it sounded on her outfit, but also because of the sheer force she’d gotten behind it. The Black Fang held little back, threw her all into it, and was rewarded with explosive results.

It was a shame that the doctor had her face covered, because seeing the look on her full face would’ve been a treat, she was sure.

She’d just started to move in for another chop when Miranda retaliated, throwing out a wild backhand that cracked the Black Fang flush on the face. She took a step back of her own, took a hot second to readjust her mask, then hopped forward and retaliated in kind, throwing out a backhanded slap of her own, taking care not to hit the apparatus on her face and hurt herself.

The chop struck Miranda’s well, the pain that erupted from her breast shattered burned like a deep fire. The momentum of the blow pushed the scientist back, her heels making it difficult to stay standing. For a moment, she almost seemed to lose her balance, only a spike of adrenaline keeping her steady enough to keep herself on her feet. The adrenaline came from humanities natural fear of falling, and the mixture of both pain and fear momentarily broke Miranda façade.

Angry and frustrated, Miranda whipped a backhanded slap at the one who perpetrated her emotional reaction. It was an aimless, wild attack, similar to one of a caged animal, and to her surprise it actually connected! Her gloved hand made a loud “crack” against the woman’s cheek, causing to her to step back, halting her advance.

For a moment that seemed like an hour, Miranda stood there, one arm on defense, the other extended outwards, finishing its arc. Miranda was trying to focus the frustration and anger that was being accentuated by the adrenaline rush. Logic was always muddled by emotions, and mistakes would be made if she focused on such fickle things as her feelings. She tried to work through them, push them down until they were gone.

But The Black Fang held no such feelings. Her determination helped push her through the pain, she embraced the cheers of the crowd which seem to push her forward. As sudden as the she turned away from the blow, she came back swinging her own back handed slap. She was smart enough to avoid Miranda’s mask, her hand slapping hard against Miranda’s exposed face.

Almost immediately, a red hand print appeared on the scientist’s face, her own hand shooting up to protect her face from further assault. For a moment, she stood her ground, a cold chill emanating from her posture and gaze. She rubbed her face, trying to sooth the slight sting while glaring at the hero.

A back handed slap was extremely disrespectful, and while she normally didn’t care what someone did to her, the adrenaline had riled the scientist up.

Dropping her defense entirely, she pulled back her right arm, fist clenched into a steel ball of bone and muscle. Putting her whole body into the strike, Miranda’s cold eye seem to cut through whatever they fell upon, and they were fixed squarely on The Black Fang as she blasted a violent punch aimed to put the hero in her place.

”Yeah!” The Black Fang called back right after her blow struck. ”How was that?”

The audience recoiled away from the blow and with good reason - the Black Fang landed it flush, right on target, got about all she could’ve asked for out of the impact and more on top. She wanted damage, sure, but she got a considerable noise from it, too, one that seemed to ring out across the stadium. There was even a hand print to remember her by, one that stood out like a red beacon among all the dark colors Miranda wore.

Satisfying. But, judging from the look in Miranda’s face - pure, hateful venom - it wouldn’t go without some repercussions. ”Okay, so, are you gonna hit me back, or-”

Miranda did hit her back. Hard, in fact. It was a solid strike, one that came across the Black Fang’s jaw and had her spinning full circle, her eyes blinking in stunned shocked. She took a moment to recover from it, getting her head cleared as much as one could in two seconds, and then she responded in kind.

The crowd roared behind her as she lashed out with a punch to match, throwing it right back in Miranda’s face with a mirror version of the very blow she’d just executed. If her opponent came back again, she’d do the same again, as many times as she had to - do or die, she wasn’t backing down.

Miranda could feel the impact of her blow all the way up her arm.  She had given up her defense in order to put more power in that strike, and if she had a running start, that punch would likely have been the strongest one she had ever thrown. The results spoke for themselves, The Black Fang seemed to reel backwards from the blow, the curve forcing the raven clad hero to spin from the sheer momentum of the punch.

Miranda didn’t get the chance to enjoy Black Fang’s pain, because she responded with a punch identical to the one Miranda had just thrown. The force of the blow was enough to make Miranda’s whole upper body move with the blow, a pained noise emanating from her mask indicating the punches effectiveness. She took a wobbly step back in order to maintain her balance and short distance from the hero. Her first reeled back again, then fired forward once again, smashing the Hero in the jaw similar to how she did it the first time.

And yet, she still did not fall. The crowd seem to cheer as she stood up to Miranda’s onslaught, dishing out what ever she got from the good doctor.

“Fang! Fang! Fang!”

As if fueled by the cheers of the crowd, Black Fang struck back once again, though this time hitting Miranda’s mask. A loud CRACK could be heard from the apparatus as Miranda’s head shot backwards from the blow.

“YAAErrrRRRgGGHHZZzzzt*”

The distorted scream seemed to short out, and as if to confirm the destruction of the mask, one of the filters that clung to it suddenly fell off, bouncing twice before slowly rolling away and out of the ring.

Miranda backed off. Not because of the destruction of her mask, it was work equipment, nothing more. No, she retreated because the blows were starting to catch up with her. Miranda was a decent fighter, she could take quite a few hits and dish out some nasty ones, but there was a reason she had hired Bridgette as an enforcer type. Miranda could only take so much, and considering she had just taken two massive punches to the head on top of the damage she received during the fight, she was starting to struggle a bit. She had fought emotionally and was paying the price.

The Black Fang was pushing Miranda back, and her goons were noticing it. Kristy and Bridgette exchanged worried glances. If things continued this way, even for a short while longer, it could be bad. It might mean they would have to use their “failsafe” plan Miranda had taught them. In preparation, the two once again separated to opposite sides of the ring, watching to see what might happen next.

Tense the muscles, pictured the target, summon some strength, dedicate yourself to the follow through, and-

BAM!

While the Black Fang wasn’t a boxer by any stretch of the imagination, her mentor had made sure she was at least passable in all forms of wrestling, and that paid off when she was trading blows with Miranda. She was able to land a good enough punch to rock the doctor’s world, with the bonus of doing some real damage to that face mask of hers. Of came the filter, tumbling away, and while she rejoiced at the progress, she couldn’t help but worry a tad. Hopefully the hardware wasn’t too important, and it didn’t look as expensive as it looked. She would hate to mess up what was actually a pretty good look…

No time for worries like that, though. The Black Fang shook them off as Miranda stumbled away, getting the worst out of the exchange and showing. This match had been fairly back and forth from the start, with her opponent showing prowess and power above the norm, but now things felt like they were firmly in the Black Fang’s control, and she aimed to keep it that way.

As she moved forward, she couldn’t help but take a half second to notice how Miranda’s goons were shuffling about in unison, as they were setting something up. Nothing overt, not yet, but keeping her head on a swivel was starting to change into more than a mere nuisance. Miranda was too skilled and altogether crafty for her not to be the focus. Shifting too much would bite her in the butt.

The Black Fang tried to stay mindful of that as she moved forward with her hands out, going for Miranda before she could stumble too far away. She tried to snag the villainess by her wrist and yank back hard, attempting to send her careening towards the far corner with a snapping Irish Whip. Whatever this group had planned, the more she kept Miranda moving, the less likely they’d be able to execute. In theory.

Miranda was trying to flee the heavy blows while clearing the fog brewing inside her head. It wasn’t to hard to think, not yet anyway, but Miranda was well aware how much a split-second decision could decide the out come of any situation. She needed to be able to think clearly, to watch for the most logical course of action and take it. The pain was making it difficult, but slowly the fog was clearing, she just had to endure a bit longer…

The Black Fang decided to capitalize on Miranda’s stupor, rushing in and snagging her wrist with a tight grip. With a sudden and hard tug, she all but threw Miranda into the corner, the metal post digging into the small part of Miranda’s exposed back. There was no sound of pain, just Miranda jerking back from the impact, like someone had thrown a doll against a post. The mask not only distorted her voice but slightly projected it. Now that it was destroyed, her puffs of pain were much quieter.

Miranda had to grip onto the top rope to keep from falling onto her knees. She was taking slow, considerate breathes, trying to calm herself down while eyeing Black Fang. She noticed her colleagues get into their failsafe positions, which may have offended other team leaders, but it was a logical assessment to her. If she were to fail, it was nice to have a backup plan. That didn’t mean Miranda intended to fail.

Letting go of the rope, Miranda steadily approached The Black Fang. She didn’t want to chance that she could be hit with vertigo should she run too fast. She needed to do something that could give her time to recover, while damaging her foe. It would have to be a submission of sorts.

If she was able to approach quick enough, she would feint one attack, only to slip behind her and try to lock in a chokehold. She wouldn’t be at her top speed, which may cause problems in the future.

Keeping pressure on Miranda was the first priority in all of this, as the Black Fang was learning straight away. While she couldn’t be too sure on what was going on underneath this woman’s hood, if she had to guess, it all came down to the logic she seemed so insanely fixated on - she was a thinker, this one. All well and good, but that could only get you so far in a wrestling ring. When it came down to instincts, the advantage would be in her favor, not the doctor’s.

And at the outset, things seemed to be going firmly her way. She launched Miranda off towards the corner and she hit with a decent impact, one that left her open right after. Eager to capitalize, the Black Fang dusted off her heels, skipped forward for an extra boost of momentum, then came charging hard towards her, hair streaming behind her as she flew.

Closer, closer, and closer…

”Huh?” The Black Fang rapidly blinked as her foe closed the distance far quicker than she’d anticipated. Wouldn’t be a problem she couldn't deal with, and she shot out her arm to meet this woman with a clothesline before she could throw whatever she was going for.

A mistake, as it turned out. Miranda ducked, the clothesline whiffed, and the next thing the Black Fang knew, she had arms coiled around her neck, crushing away at her throat.

Panic set in right away. There were a dozen ways this situation could get worse, and she wanted none of them.

The Black Fang’s clothesline was a fair choice to counter Miranda’s charge, but it was far too unpredictable, and gave the enemy more than enough chances to counter as Miranda had.

Miranda gave a quiet “Tsk” to herself. Had the roles been reversed, and an opponent was running at her, she could have finished the match with her Specimen Injection. The image of The Black Fang’s face smashing against her knee flashed in the doctor’s head, but she quickly discarded the thought. It gave her no pleasure. To her, this whole fight was a means to an end.

Quick as a flash, Miranda ducked down under the hero’s forearm, only to spin around and wrap her arms tightly around her opponent’s neck. Without a moments hesitation, she began to choke the woman, cutting off the blood flow to her brain as she squeezed down onto her neck. In order to keep the hero from struggling, Miranda would try to kick the back of The Black Fang’s legs out from under her, so that when Miranda eventually fell backwards, she could drag the hero down to the ground in the chokehold.

There was a flaw in Miranda’s strategy, one she was not unaware of. In kicking The Black Fang’s legs out one at a time, it meant that there was a very short period where the scientist was totally of balance, only standing on one heel. If the Black Fang was a quick thinker, and was strong enough, it was entirely possible for her to shoulder throw Miranda before the chokehold could be completely locked in.

Of course, Miranda weighed the odds, and figured she would take that chance. The Black Fang had spirit, but that meant nothing in the cold hard realm of calculations, theories, and probabilities. She was a fool, whom fancied herself a protector of the ring she loved so much, a ring that Miranda had no interest in, and yet must take from her.

God, Miranda was strong.

Maybe not super strong. Not even the strongest opponent that the Black Fang had faced in recent memory, a title that would undoubtedly go to the seven-foot giant Mikki Wylde. But she was definitely stronger than a woman her size had any right to be, with more than enough force to make the chokehold a serious threat. The Black Fang found herself sputtering and strangling, fighting for every meager breath that she could.

As bad it was, there was the serious threat of it getting even worse, as Miranda kicked at her legs and pulled her back and downwards, the exact opposite directions that she wanted to go. It was a path that would only end up with her getting knocked out. Or worse.

But she couldn’t fight the fall. Gravity was against her. So, the Black Fang did the only thing she really could do in this situation: she rolled with it.

They fell to the floor, but the Black Fang threw her legs up as the tumbled, rolling backwards. When Miranda hit the floor, she kept on moving, continuing with the motion and popping her head free, ending up with her standing just above Miranda’s head.

”Got you!”

The Black Fang took a short hop forward, tucked her legs in, then shot them down towards Miranda’s chest, attempting to drive her heels into the villain with a double stomp.

As Miranda’s arms turned to steel, and gravity pulled the two competitors down to the ground, she marked the match down in her head as a win. The hero would struggle a bit, fight against the hold and waste her energy, and then finally expire to the depths of unconsciousness. There was no logical path of escape from Miranda’s clutches, the protector of AFW was absolutely finished. The only thing Miranda needed to do after they hit the ground was ensnare the hero’s legs with her own. She would be unable to mover from her position, and the fight would over all the quicker for it.

Miranda’s back collided with the floor, her legs already beginning to snake around Black Fangs, ready to put the final nail in the coffin-

-but the legs were not there. Instead, the Black Fang was rolling backwards, using the force of her legs and momentum of the fall to pop her head right out of Miranda’s hold. The scientist would blink once in utter shock. What the Black Fang had just done was… inconceivable. Miranda was sure she had thought of every defense against the hold, but never did she think the Black Fang could do this.

Black Fang’s “Got you!” was met with dumbfounded eyes.

As Miranda began to rise from the floor, The Black Fang took advantage of her newly acquired high ground, jumping up and delivering a sharp stomp to the scientist’s chest. The stomp hurt. Quite a bit so.

Miranda, beaten back down to the floor, simply rolled over to cover her chest from any more attacks. Logic told her to get up and move out of such a precarious situation, but her body was not responding, only interested in staving off pain for even a split second.