Isa vs Isa - Clash With The Copycat?

Standard match
Victory by pinfall or submission



Ísafold Hjalmarsdottir was not happy. Logically she should have been, as she was about to march into the Friction ring with an opponent that she had specifically requested to face tonight. But to understand why she was not, one had to go back in time for a few days, to another night filled with action on the Friction arena.

But that night, Isa had not been going to watch all of that. That night, she had had other plans. Sure enough, her friend Julie had insisted on coming over to her place to watch all the action with her, but the blonde had left the gingerhead by herself, instead focusing on some other material at her own computer.

Around a week before, Isa had had her own match against a veteran of the AFW ring, Alaina Sanders. Despite of losing that fight, she had managed to impress the Amazon with her performance. Alaina had, to the blonde's astonishment, offered to train with her, to help her develop her skills, and to give some advice on how Isa could become an even tougher force to deal with in the Friction ring.

For Isa, that offer had basically been like a dream come true. She needed to get more strength, she needed the additional muscle. She needed to learn new moves, and she needed to take up any additional advice a veteran such as Alaina could give.

And she needed to study how Alaina fought. She felt obliged to become familiar with Alaina's career, the way she fought, and what were the key success factors in her game. She was determined to watch as many of the Amazon's earlier matches as she possibly could.

And that's what Isa had planned on doing instead of watching the current events with Julie. The Irish girl could have briefed her after the night's matches, if there had been anything worthwhile to know. Before that, Isa had had more important plans...

"Ooh, Isa, come! Come here!"
"..."
"Isa, come on, you have to take a look at this!"
"W-what?!? What now? What is it?"
"You've got a doppelganger!!!"

A Doppelganger? What did that even mean? Rolling her eyes, the blonde had succumbed to Julie's will, making her way by the TV.

"What? What is it now?"
"Look, they've got another Isa! She's having her debut!"
"What?!? Who?"
"The one with the black leotard! Not the biker girl..."
"Really? Her name is Isa?"
"Yeah, she's Isa too! And look, she has great scissors as well!"
"Oh, yeah... I see..."
"Wow, look at that! The biker girl's really in trouble!"
"Yeah..."
"That's fun, she's just like you!"

Frankly, Isa had by now been making all those observations even without the help of her friend. This new, black-haired Isa had indeed very similar fighting style to her own. Her thighs appeared deadly, and she seemed to enjoy controlling her opponent with them...

Isa might not had heard of a doppelganger before, but she had definitely heard of copycats.

"Oh, it would be so fun if you two were fighting against each other!"
"Yeah, right..."

With those words expressed in a distinctly sour tone, Isa had turned around and gone back over to her PC.

But inside, she had been fuming. She had just been getting the hold of how wrestling worked in AFW, and her career was just on the edge of a fundamental turn for better. And now, the management had decided to replace her with a copycat? One that had the same style, and even the same name?

But one that wore a sexy leotard, and was apparently willing to wrestle in oil. Was that what made the difference?

She needed to face this newcomer in a match. But not because it would be fun, but because she needed to put this copycat in her place.

The following day, Isa had marched to the Friction management, demanding them to set up a match against this other Isa. Well, in Isa's case it had been more of a subtle request than a demand, but she had gotten what she wanted anyway.

Besides, based on the smirk on the matchbooker's face, it was almost as if the management had waited for her to come.

So, that's why Isa was now waiting backstage, waiting for her theme to begin. And that's why she was not happy. Tonight, she was bearing the burden of having something to prove.

Ísafold Hjalmarsdottir - The Angel Of Ice:

The special nature, and the high stakes of tonight's match were clearly visible in the blonde's behavior. And frankly, not in a positive way.

As she was marching down the ramp, her usual cheerfulness seemed to be absent. Only when she made her way up into the ring, did the Angel of Ice walk a round in it, forcing a contrived smile while subtly greeting the audience. Her usual entrance rituals were gone, and the blonde just quickly settled into her corner, waiting for her opponent to appear.

The copycat. The one that she needed to clearly evidence herself being superior of.

Isabel Armstrong really had no idea how she’d ended up in this situation.

Alright, that wasn’t exactly true. She’d been called in, told she was having a match, where and when and who it was going to be against.

What had confused her slightly was that her opponent – and she’d get to that in a moment – had asked for this match (or so she’d interpreted what the official told her). Isa, coming from a wrestling family, knew that people usually asked for a match against a specific opponent because there was something personal in it or because they wanted to make a name for themselves.

But she was way too new for that and she’d never met this other woman, this Ísafold Hjalmarsdottir, in her life. Hadn’t even heard of her until then so how could it be personal?

Isa had been left perplexed in the extreme when she’d left that meeting and hadn’t been able to make any more sense of it since, despite chewing on the idea over and over.

She’d even gone back, watched the other woman’s matches. It really felt like they ought to have a lot in common, from their names right down to their fighting styles.

Perhaps she’d just misunderstood what she’d been told? It felt like the sort of match management might make anyway and there wasn’t much point worrying about it now.

At least this wasn’t going to be an oil match. Isa never wanted to wrestle in oil ever again. It was so… ugh.

On the evening of the match, she was stood backstage waiting for her music to hit as she tugged her foot supports firmly into place, running her hands through her hair to shake out the curves. And watching her opponent, the other Isa with her gorgeous white-blonde mane, make her entrance.

Only she did it without a lot of the stuff the blonde usually did in her entrance. And there was something definitely off about the way she was acting. Like she was pissed. Like this was personal after all.

But Isa wasn’t given long to wonder before her own music kicked off, leading the Romani girl to push through the curtains misgivings or not and take up position on the ramp. Bopping her head gently to the beat, she let the first chords wash over her before beginning her dance down to the ring.

Arriving, she grabbed at the bottom ropes and slewed nimbly under them, spinning her legs around in a showy display before the momentum took her back to her feet.

The crowd applauded and Isa took a deep bow, sweeping her arm low and dipping to acknowledge their applause before glancing up with a saucy wink that earnt her a fair few more cheers as she blew kisses to the fans.

Her audience greeted, the raven-haired of the two Isas turned towards the blonde, walking out into the middle and extending her hand with a welcoming smile.

”You must be Isa Hjalmarsdottir,” She did her best to pronounce the unfamiliar name as best she could, ”Pleasure’s all mine. I can’t wait to tangle with you.”

Another wink followed, her lips quirking slightly to add a slightly more suggestive touch to her smile, but Isa’s green eyes never left the Angel’s blue.

There she was. The wait was over. Isa...Isabel? Well, the other Isa, was making her way down to the ring. And honestly, every little thing she did was making the original Isa all the more convinced that this, being here in the ring with her tonight, was the right thing to do.

The newcomer didn't just come down the ring. No, she danced down the ring. Danced to a song that was...hideous to say the least. Nothing that was even close to the gracious tunes of Isa's own song. And still the other girl was bopping her head to it like it was the coolest beat ever... Ridiculous.

It didn't get any better as the newcomer finally made her way into the ring. That...spinning around? What was that all about? Was she a cheerleader of some sorts? And why did she have to wink so much to the crowds? And blowing kisses? And why did they apparently like that so much? What was wrong with cool, calm and collected, friendly and gracious behavior? Is that pointless swaying around really that much better?

Well, whan you're clad in lingerie that might be true. Honestly, Isa couldn't tell whether the girl's outfit was better suited to a bedroom or a wrestling ring. Her body though...well, that was probably suited for both. This other Isa definitely seemed strong, especially from her legs too, the two were about the same size, and she didn't appear at all like someone who would be easily thrown around in the ring. And at this point, it almost felt like a shame... Well, save for the crowds who were extatic. Probably just wanted her to their own bedrooms.

The worst thing though? There seemed to be no genuine reason for Isa to hate the newcomer. She did nothing that would have been directly undermining, demeaning or taunting at Isa. If anything, she showed genuine good spirit and fair game attitude with her words and offer for handshake. And she even made a genuine attempt with her name...

If Isa would have had even one reason to hate her, this would have been so much easier. If she would have had any legitimate reason to prove that she was the good girl here, and the newcomer was just a prick, she could have acted so much more natural.

But now, she just had to bite her lip, and try to act as friendly as she could with the newcomer. Despite all the little irritating things, such as the yet another wink at Isa, and the use of the verb tangle, the blonde had to stay calm. She had to keep her manners. Which was admittedly unprecedentedly difficult right now...

"Good evening. I've understood that you're Isa too. What a coincidence..." the blonde began as she briefly shook the Romani girl's hand, her tone being rather serious and tense. "Well, I've certainly had my share of opponents tangling with me, and usually they've regretted it. But don't worry, I'll tangle with you thoroughly, I promise."

Saying those words was rapidly becoming increasingly uncomfortable for Isa, whose main goal was now just to keep herself calm. Not wanting to engage in any more banter with the newcomer for now, the blonde decided to try just turning around, and marching to her own corner in preparation for the bell. She needed to breathe deeply, collect her thoughts, and form a solid plan on how to take down this copycat.