Gemma Faraday "Air Raid Siren" vs Kira Malcolm "Wild Card"

Standard match
1 fall
Victory condition: The winning wrestler shall be the first wrestler that wins

The Wild Card stretched backstage. It was her first Friction match in quite some time, and she was more than eager to get back out there and show this audience what being the Wild Card meant, to show them what a true athlete can do. She had climbed mountains, biked through deserts, endured... no, THRIVED in some of the world's harshest climates. And she was ready to master this environment, she was ready to take this league by storm, and she was ready to crush anyone in her way.

She bounced back and forth on the balls of her feet, clad in her usual ring gear. The sports bra and sweatpants gave her mobility and showed off just the right amount of her physique. She knew she looked good and did not need to flaunt it. But she looked absolutely great in motion.

When the announcer finally called her, she stepped out, looking across the crowd. She would make sure they would never forget her name. They would never forget the Wild Card. She gave the crowd a curt nod and then bolted down the ramp at full sprinting speed. In one step, she took the apron. In the leap after, she cleared the ropes clean, landing in the ring. She could not help but smile. She did not even need to see herself to know she made that look good. With a slight swagger, she moved to her corner, leaning back against the ropes, she awaited her opponent.

Gemma listened to the roar of the crowd from the gorilla position, her faced fixed in determination. She still felt so new to AFW, which had been so completely different from the wrestling league she was practically raised in, but the young Brit was completely focused on making certain that tonight was her night.

When management had given her the call, Gemma had almost said no. Regardless of whether she won or lost, it seemed that her AFW career had been a string of rough, embarrassing moments. She'd even had to spend a week ordering and tailoring replacement ring gear, just to keep her trademark look going. Still, when the high strings of her entrance music hit the arena, she sprang through the entrance ramp, fist raised to the crowd. She could feel the eyes of her fans on her, here and at home, and Gemma was still dedicated to making them proud of her.

Flashing her usual smirk and wink to the audience, she stepped down the entrance ramp without hesitation. After wiping her feet on the ring apron, Gemma took her usual leap onto the turnbuckle, pumping her fist into the air. As she did so, Gemma fixed her eyes on her opponent for the evening, trying to size the girl up, not knowing what she could expect, tonight.

Kira scoffed as she saw Gemma enter the ring, unable to believe how ridiculous this woman looked. She stepped off the ropes and approached the middle of the ring, regarding her foe with a haughty snarl. "Hey, Goggles," she shouted. "Nice get-up, but you're in a wrestling match, not a cosplay convention. Get a life!" The Wild Card could scarcely believe the sort of people they let fight in this league. But if she had to beat down every nutjob and weirdo who walked down that ramp to make a name for herself here, she would do it happily.

Gemma smirked as she bounced down from the turnbuckle onto the mat. Gemma knew she couldn't afford to be too flippant, not after how her last match had turned out. But this girl was trying too hard to get under her skin for Gemma to ignore. “Oh, you don't like?” Gemma asked, quirking her brow, stretching her arms overhead to show off the close cut of her custom gear, as well as the tone of the body wrapped in it. “I admit, it lacks the panache of the 'Primark Special Sports Bra and also I have abs' look, but I think it works. And as it turns out, slumming it isn't actually a combat strategy. Completely unexpected, I know.” With that, she flashed a grin and a wink at Kira, Gemma's brow furrowed, for just a slight moment, as she hoped she'd gotten under her opponent's skin. Bravado aside, Gemma knew that she had a lot to prove, tonight, and she couldn't let some uppity bitch get into her head before the opening bell. Collecting herself, Gemma bent her legs into a fighting stance, raised her fists into a classic pugilist position, fists raised, and blew a single, taunting kiss at her foe.

The Wild Card hated this woman already and it could not have been more apparent in her snarl. "Hey! My gear is top notch, you fruitcake!" She raised an accusatory finger at Gemma. "At least I don't get my ring gear from Hot Topic!" She patted her midriff, "And you're damn right I have abs. You probably haven't seen this before in your little comic books but this is what an athlete looks like!" She could not believe the gall of this dork.

Kira assumed her own fighting stance and she somehow found a way to scowl harder at the Air Raid Siren. She was already visualizing pounding that stupid smile off her stupid face. When the bell rang, the Wild Card was off like a lightning bolt. She charged forward, trying to deliver a knee straight to Gemma's gut.

“Hot Topic?” Gemma scoffed, eyes and smirk widening at Kira's comment. “Love, I'm wearing spats and vintage aviator goggles, and I thought that reference was dated!” Gemma's chest swelled a bit, her nerves beginning to calm; it seemed she'd gotten under this skank's skin already, and hopefully that was going to give her an edge. What the cocky young grappler didn't realize, however, was that her over thinking was about to cost her.

Gemma kept her stance loose, as she heard the opening bell. “And you're just mad at comics because they have too many wo-” Gemma taunt, however, was cut short. Her guard had been high, preparing to lock up with her opponent, which left her midsection completely vulnerable to Kira's attack. “Hgnnn!” Gemma cried out, the air being driven from her body. Gemma's knees buckled, her body bending forward, Kira's knee still planted in her soft belly. Gemma managed to keep on her feet, but until she was able to get some air, she'd be at Kira's mercy.

That was the best noise Gemma had emitted since Kira had met her. And she was as soft as she looked. This was going to be great. Kira's knee had struck with satisfying force and now the Wild Card was ready to show this Brit a thing or two. She broke off into a run, letting Gemma stand or fall on her own devices. Bouncing off the ropes, Kira would return, leaping up and aiming a drop kick to Gemma's back

Gemma stumbled, a bit, feeling Kira's knee pulling away from her gut. She could feel her knees shaking, her body still struggling to remain upright. In that moment, Gemma found herself thinking of everyone watching her, tonight. Every AFW match she'd been in, thus far, had been a parade of humiliation and pain. Even as she struggled to draw air into her lungs, Gemma resolved that tonight's match was going to be different. And her opponent tonight was exactly the kind of tart that the Air Raid Siren needed to prove herself against …

Gemma turned on her heels, trying to keep up with Kira's movements around the ring. Even as she was beginning to get her bearings, however, it was proving hard. Gemma could hear the pounding of boots against the mat, but by the time she had a bead on where the noise was coming from, Kira was already in the air, planting a solid kick against her shoulderblades.

“Eeyaaagh!” Gemma cried out, as the sudden dropkick knocked the poor steampunker to her knees. She tumbled across the mat on her hands and knees, until she reached the ropes. While the bright lights and huge crowds of AFW were new to her, Gemma had grown up in a wrestling ring, and she knew that, according to the rules of the sport, an occasional retreat to the ring ropes was a good way to buy herself a moment, when needed. Still dazed and disoriented, however, Gemma knew that her safety relied on her opponent respecting those rules ...

Kira's heart was pumping. Her whole body was operating to that rhythm. Th-thump, th-thump. She was a finely tuned engine and she was getting started. There would be no stopping her now. She was pissed at this woman and wanting nothing less than to beat those dumb goggles right off her stupid head. She hated her accent. She hated her attitude. And she hated this league for pitting her against nobodies like this runt rather than people worthy of the Wild Card.

The Wild Card was not about to let some ropes be the lifeline for the beating this nerd so richly deserved. With purpose, she stomped up to Gemma and aimed to deliver a boot to her midsection. If that hit, she would proceed to grab her by the arm and aim to yank her back into the middle of the ring to continue her punishment.

Clinging to the ropes, Gemma was just beginning to feel herself get her bearings, again. Trying to get fully back to her feet, however, Gemma was distracted by the jeering crowd at ringside, It was more than a bit humiliating, letting herself get so overwhelmed so quickly, but the girl's bullying offense had caught her completely off-guard. Gemma chewed her lip, for a moment, as she began to wonder if her initial victory in AFW had been some sort of fluke.

Gemma was roused from her worries, however, by the sudden stomp of Kira's boots, bearing down on her. She turned just in time to see Kira's boot swing through the air towards her, but not in time to actually do anything about it. "No, wai- ahhgnn!" she cried out, her midriff collapsing a bit with the blow. Gemma could feel Kira grasping her arm, swinging her back towards the center of the ring, and she could do nothing to resist. The young steampunker went tumbling end over end into the center of the ring, finally landing on her hands and knees.

Gemma tried to brace herself against whatever her foe had coming, next, knowing she was going to have to do put up a fight soon, if she was going to avoid complete humiliation, tonight. Her entire body tensed, Gemma flashed an intense glare at Kira, her lips curled into a defiant snarl. The Air Raid Siren watched her opponent's every movement, hoping that her training would kick in, praying that she'd be ready for whatever this bitch was going to throw at her next.